Marksman 2: Chapter 1: Forgotten Vows

ITS HERE, AND I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A VERY MERRY NEW YEAR

Marksman 2: Chapter 1: Forgotten Vows.

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Location unknown.
4 hours since attack on North Korean missile systems.
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Soulless' eyes snapped open.

He could see blue skies streaked with some clouds above him. His back was flat on a rough wooden surface. He felt it away slightly under him, as if he was on a ship.

He WAS on a ship.

Soulless tried to push himself up onto his elbows, and then winced, letting himself fall back down. He hurt like hell.

He couldn't tilt his neck forward, so he let his head tilt off to the side again. He saw the side of the small ship. Then, a pair of feet moved in front of his eyes.

Looking up, Soulless found an old Korean man past military age staring down at him. The mans face was brown from a deep tan and weather beaten.

“American?" The man asked in a thick Korean accent.

Soulless strained to nod. His neck hurt too. He reached up with his right hand and felt a sting there, lifting his fingertips in front of his eyes, he found the tips of his fingers wet with blood.

Soulless' hand was covered in black soot, burns, and cuts. Lifting his arm up more, he could see that his entire arm was like that. He tried to inspect his left arm too, but the fiery pain in his shoulder reminded him that Soulless had a bullet wound there.

“I no hurt you." The Korean man said in rough English. “You come from missile place?"

Again, Soulless nodded. He was tired as crap, and the pain from his wounds was messing with his thoughts. “Water." He rasped. His left check hurt when he talked, badly, but he could bear it.

The old Korean man disappeared , and then returned, canteen in hand. Soulless opened his mouth, eliciting more pain from his cheek, and the Korean man poured some of the water down his throat. It was warm and metallic.

But it was the best water Soulless had ever tasted.

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1 year later...
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Somewhere remote near Fairbanks, Alaska.
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Soulless pushed open the rear door to the house and carried the load of wood inside, dumping it in the metal rack next to the wood stove. The wood stove was set up in the garage, but it still managed to heat the entire house.

Removing his coat, boots, and gloves, Soulless exited the garage and went into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee into a mug. Then, flipping off the lights in the kitchen, he left the kitchen and retired to his “office."

It was technically an office, but Soulless had no regular job. The office was entirely soundproofed. There were no windows, and against one corner of the room was a computer with five monitors. On another wall parallel to the computer was a 60 inch plasma TV with an Xbox One hooked up. The TV also had integrated secure video calls, which was useful to Soulless. A mini fridge was set up next to the computer. To finish it all off, a safe inhabited the third and final corner of the room. The door to the study took the fourth. The floors were wooden and a rug dominated the middle.

Soulless pulled back the chair and sat down in front of the computer, clicking on the middle monitor. Setting the coffee mug on the wooden desk, Soulless punched in a news website, and began watching their Internet broadcast of the 11 o'clock news.

“...have encountered heavy North Korean resistance on the northern end of the De-Militarization Zone." the anchor was saying. “This morning, after picking their way through mines, a joint South Korean and U.S task force came under fire from concealed positions. More on that story later." The anchor shuffled his notes, and the image changed. “North Korean officials have accused a mercenary organization of assaulting their missile platforms that were used to mount an attack on the U.S one year ago. This attack failed when North Korean and Independent Arms International PMC forces were pushed out of San Diego, and the missile platforms were destroyed from an internal explosion. These explosions were originally linked to a fuel issue with the missiles themselves. Recently though, after reviewing all of the wreckage recovered from one of the platforms, the North Korean government had released these images."

The screen changed to display an extremely damaged AR-type assault rifle. Another image was slid in next to that, this time of an H&K MP7 submachine gun. Lastly, the third image displayed a mostly undamaged Glock 19 with a suppressor.

“Furthermore, the North Korean government released clips from their security camera system, some of these clips showing incapacitated guards. Today, we have one of our military analysts with us to talk about the probability of the missile launch failure being a hit and run job."

The screen split down the middle and a man who looked to be in his late sixties appeared next to the anchor. “Good evening Mr. Koronell." The anchor said. The analyst nodded. “So what do you think of North Korea's claims, Mr. Koronell?"

“Well for starters, this is all 100 plausible. All the evidence stacks up. What doesn't make sense is why a mercenary corporation would offend North Korea as such." Koronell said. “Which would move the blame to the U.S, when the White House claims they didn't sanction any action against North Korea, as they were too busy fighting them off on their own soil. The main piece of evidence I have against the U.S would be this image."

The screen flipped back to the image of the Glock 19.

“And how so?" The anchor asked.

“We know that South Korean agents would not have access to arms manufactured by a company such as Glock, unless bought in small increments. And at that point, South Korea was not directly involved in the war. And you have to take into account that U.S special forces units have been moving toward Glock handguns so religiously."

The analyst and anchor kept going back and forth, the images shifting through images of the missile platforms.

Then, Soulless' secure phone line rang.

He muted the sound on the monitor looked at the caller ID. It was labeled UNKNOWN.

He picked up the phone. “Who are you and how do you have my number?" He asked quietly, his voice like a tire spinning in gravel.

Since the missile platforms, he had received vocal damage from smoke inhalation and throat injuries. The pro to that was if anyone tried to recognize him with a voice identification program, they wouldn't find him.

“Just someone who needs a job done." Replied a silky male voice. “I heard you're pretty good at what I had in mind."

“What kind of job?"

“The kind that results in a large payout for you."

Soulless sighed. “Who are you?"

“An entrepreneur interested in certain kinds of back room dealings. The not-so-legal kind."

“A gangster I see."

“You could say that."

“What's the job?" Soulless asked.

“One of the Columbian narcos has been running his material through one of my areas. He almost brought the authorities down on my head, so I need him out of the picture."

“Dead or alive?"

“Either works. Dead is easier I would think."

“Dead it is."

The silky voice laughed. “I like you."

Soulless chuckled. “I'd say the same, but we've never met. Plus, strangers who I meet for the first time generally end up on the receiving end of a .338 Lapua round."

“Ah, humor from the dead man at last." The man with the silky voice said. “Now, about your payment. Two hundred grand, half before, half after. Sound good?"

“It's a deal." Soulless confirmed.

“Excellent. Give me an email and account number and I'll wire the first payment, then send you the information. Encrypted of course, but I'm sure you can read it."

“I'll be waiting." Soulless said.

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Seoul, South Korea.
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Rock locked and loaded his M4, checking that his M203 undermounted grenade launcher was in place. Laser sight, holographic acog scope, magazine, stock, everything was set. Double checking that his Glock 19 was secured, he gave Evil a thumbs up.

Omega Team was being carried out to the De-Militarization Zone by South Korean forces. From there on they would stage a series of hit-and-run attacks on the North Korean Army.

Rock looked up at Dark, who was securing his M249 SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon.) Dark had recently been appointed to the machine gunner for the squad. Titanium was the new demolitions expert and battlefield medic.

Three months ago, Platinum had received a life-threatening injury from a piece of shrapnel in his chest. He had since been medically discharged and placed in a private hospital. He would never be returning to service. Titanium and Dark both grieved his loss.

Rock glanced over at Evil, who was readying an M14 EBR. Two years ago, Evil had taken the loss of a friend hard. Everyone had. But Evil had felt the loss of Soulless most. After the destruction of the North Korean missile systems, and Omega's subsequent deployment to the DMZ, Evil had taken it upon himself to fill Soulless' role as the squad sniper and designated marksman, as well as the squad leader.

Rock pushed the thought of Soulless out of his mind. He had to focus on the mission. He tightened his M4A4's sling and readjusted his helmet.

“All right." Evil said, standing up. “We're almost to the drop zone. Stand by for insertion."

The helicopter dipped low, and then hovered over a clearing. Titanium secured a rappel line to the clip next to his head, and then, grabbing hold with his arms and legs, fast-roped down.

Rock was next, grabbing the line and hooking his legs in. Jumping back, he began to slide down.

The rope slid through his gloved hands, and his legs. Then, his boots hit the ground.

Titanium was sweeping with his M4. Rock grabbed his and, dropping to a knee, scanned the small clearing through his acog scope. Everything seemed clear.

Next down was Dark, cycling the bolt on the M249 SAW, and then, lastly, Evil slid down, immediately unclipping his M14 and looking up at the helicopter. The line was cut and the chopper turned to go back from where it had come.

“Welcome to the Second Korean War." Dark said. “Shall we find ourselves some entertainment?

“Boring day anyways." Muttered Rock. “Let's go."

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Alaska
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Soulless shut the door to his small armory. The door in the corner of the room opened to a wide room, the walls lined with weapons. He had assault weapons, handguns, sniper rifles, CQB SMGs and shotguns, essentially everything one would need to fight a war themselves.

Walking by one of the shelves, Soulless grabbed three extra magazines for his CZ-75, and a box of 9mm rounds hand loaded himself. He set them on one of the four tables pushed into one massive one in the middle of the table. Going over to one of the other shelves, he grabbed a Daniel Defense AR-15 and a case for it, setting that on the table too. Two forty round magazines for that, and he left the iron sights as they were. Lastly, he went over to his selection of long-range rifles.

He had accumulated multiple long range rifles for recreational use. He had a Dragonuv SVD that was fun to shoot, as well as accurate, and he had built a .308 R700 rifle with a black plastic stock, light barrel, and an 8x16 scope.

He bypassed all of these.

Over time working for Spectre Division, Soulless had accumulated a couple million dollars. That meant that if he wanted something, he had a pretty good chance of getting it. He went for one of the gun safes next to a weapon rack. He punched in the combination, and then unlatched the door, swinging it open.

Inside sat Soulless' most recent purchase. He had spent six thousand dollars on parts.

Soulless grabbed the Remington MSR and four loaded mags in a small bag. Setting the magazine bag on the table, he grabbed a heavy plastic case for the rifle, and secured the rifle to the inside of the case. Shutting it, he latched it closed, and then moved to grab ammunition for the AR-15. .223 steel core rounds would do the trick on any bad guy. They also added a little extra kick to guys wearing Kevlar.

He grabbed an ammo can and started loading the magazines.

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DMZ, Korean Boarder.
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“Contact at 10 o'clock." Titanium whispered into his microphone.

Rock dropped down behind a rock outcropping. Soon he could hear no movement, then, there were footsteps through the forest.

Rock could hear someone talking in Korean. The footsteps were growing closer. Glancing at the barrel of his M4, Rock quickly checked that his suppressor was in place.

“I count twelve." Evil said over the mic. He was perched up on a ridge line where he could watch his teammates advance.

“Fifteen from my side." Dark said. He was prone on a hillside with his M249 SAW.

“Evil, open fire when they reach 20 yards to us." Rock whispered. “Titanium and I can keep them busy then. Dark can outflank them with the SAW."

“Copy." Evil said. “Everyone ready?"

“Roj."

“Weapons free."

There was a gunshot and a splattering sound, and Rock leaned around the edge of the rock. Koreans dressed in olive green camouflage with helmets and old Kalashnikov assault rifles were scattering.

Rock fired a shot into one, dropping him. He leaned a little bit more and switched to full auto, spraying a pair of the Koreans. They fell soon. There was no sound of gunfire from the suppressor.

There was another gunshot from Evil with his M14, and a Korean screamed in an inhumane manner. Rock, switching back to single fire, squeezed the trigger three times, and slid back behind the rock outcropping.

The North Koreans began to return fire. Rock heard a bullet ricochet off the stone boulder he had his back to. Another gunshot, another scream. Rock leaned again, and, spotting a Korean laying in a growing pool of blood, sprayed him down quickly, putting him out of his misery.

There was an explosion from a grenade thrown by Titanium, and then a stream of fire from Dark's SAW. After a few moments, the gunfire abruptly stopped.

“All clear." Dark said.

Rock slowly got up. He kept his M4A4 up on his shoulder, sweeping the forest around him. The Koreans knew this ground better than Omega did, so Rock made sure to always be aware of everything around him.

He passed the position that the Koreans had used as cover. He was disgusted and nauseous the second he saw the carnage.

Then he heard the whimper.

A Korean was laying against a tree, blood leaking out of his chest. The Korean held an old Russian handgun, his knuckles white. The second he spotted Rock, the handgun came up, but Rock kicked it out of his hand and pointed the M4 at him.

He looked the Korean in the eyes. They were brown, and filled with pain and fear.

Rock lowered the M4, and drew his Glock 19. “I'm sorry, but you aren't recovering from that. It's the only way."

The Korean nodded. He readjusted himself. “Please. Do it."

Rock pointed the handgun and pulled the trigger.

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Columbia. 24 hours later.
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Soulless set the bipod on the fallen tree trunk and twisted the band around the scope, zooming the image.

A white moving truck was being loaded with packages of cocaine. Men in tank tops with AK-47s were overseeing the operation.

“Where are you." Soulless muttered, moving the rifle.

The truck was parked in front of a steel building. Soulless checked the top floor, and he then spotted a man in an expensive leather jacket with a Desert Eagle on his hip.

“There you are." He murmured, setting the crosshairs.

It was a 400 yard shot, but there was no wind. He elevated the crosshairs slightly, so that the second-to-top notch was set on the man's chest. He was standing, talking into a phone furiously.

Soulless slowly squeezed the trigger.

The rifle recoiled and the round arced over the valley across to the other side. The window shattered and the round punched the man right through the back and out the front. Soulless didn't have to confirm the kill. A .338 Lapua round to center mass caused so much internal bleeding and trauma, if you didn't die on the first shot, you would die a few seconds after, wondering what the hell had hit you.

Soulless closed the bipod and flipped the scope caps closed. Slinging the rifle, he picked up his Daniel Defense AR-15 again, and walked back up the valley slope where he had come from.

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DMZ, Korea.
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Omega had kept moving through the forest. They had stopped a few times to dispatch patrols of the enemy, but the team would have to make themselves scarce before the Koreans decided to send something bigger than patrols.

“Holy crap." Titanium said over the mic. “Rock, come over here."

“Where are you?" Rock asked.

“Other side of the hill from you."

Rock looked up the slope and began to jog to the top. He reached the top and slid down the other side to Titanium.

“Oh my." Rock said.

A friendly South Korean tank lay in ruin. Holes punched through the top and sides were blackened and intimidating. Poking his head inside the tank, Rock found none of the crew remaining. There was a large bloodstain dried on the floor.

“Evil, this is Rock. Me and Titanium found a disabled friendly tank. It's completely wrecked." Rock said into his mic.

“Copy, on my way with Dark." Evil said into the microphone.

A few minutes later the team was standing at the tank. Evil climbed in and began searching. “Nothing. Stripped clean."

“What could have caused this?" Dark asked.

“Another tank, tank destroyer positions, lucky artillery strike, seems like a mix of everything from the location of the holes." Titanium said, running his hand over one of then holes on the tank. “Whatever it is, I don't want to be here to find out what did it."

“Agreed." Rock said. “Let's move."

That was when the first mortar hit.

“Cover!" Yelled Evil. The mortar struck around fifteen yards away. The team began to dash back up the slope from where they had come. Another mortar landed closer this time, throwing dirt onto Rock. He didn't have time to brush it off before another even closer mortar strike blew him off his feet.

Rock lay winded for a moment, the world having faded away for him. Then, everything returned in an instant, air flooding his lungs again. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed his rifle and tore the dirt up beneath him as he dashed up the hill for his life.

Another two mortar strikes later, the team had made it to the crest of the hill and slid down the other side. They then lay there, backs on the ground, panting. Rock found he was bleeding from a gash on his arm, and he was a little shaken up, but otherwise he was fine.

Evil looked over at Rock. He then flinched as another mortar sailed over the hill, and kept falling down the slope, missing by forty yards. “Damn. That one could have had us."

Rock laughed weakly. The team lay there for a while more. The mortars eventually stopped.

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Soulless' house, remote Fairbanks, Alaska.
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Soulless was in his study. The morning news broadcast was running, but he wasn't paying attention. He was focused on his current Battlefield 1 match running on his Xbox One. His soldier was laying prone in a crater with a sniper rifle, picking off enemies.

He was bored. The job that had been offered to him had taken some tension out of his system, and allowed him to get out in the world instead of hiding from everything around him.

Since Soulless had joined Spectre Division and been pronounced dead, he had been fine. He missed his family, but ever since he made it out of Korea, he had discovered that his parents had died in a plane accident, and his sister had moved to Europe with a boyfriend. Digging deeper, he had discovered that most of his friends had either moved towns or gone out of state. Or died.

An enemy moved across the screen in his sniper scope on Battlefield, and Soulless adjusted the sticks on the controller, pressing the trigger button. The game's sniper rifle fired, and the bullet flew, taking the enemy in the head. The kill data flew across the bottom of the screen.

He stayed like that watching the game for a while longer. Then, the phone rang. The secure line again, without a caller ID.

Soulless set the Xbox controller aside and picked it up. “Soulless here."

“I must say, I never expected something as simple as a long range sniper shot from you." The man with the silky voice said. “Simple, but effective. I don't think that particular cartel will be crossing me - or you, for that matter- ever again."

“People usually don't cross me anyways." Soulless said. “I have quite a few ways to kill a man without expending a lot of energy, but those are no fun."

“Ah, the grimness but necessity of killing." The man said. “Where would the world be without death?"

“I don't know. I'm not a philosopher." Soulless replied. “I go where I'm paid to go these days, which isn't a lot of places."

“I like how you completed the job I gave you. I really did. And I think I have a few more side jobs lying around." The man said sparingly.

Soulless leaned forward. “I'm your man."

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Unknown location.
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The man put the phone down and slid it to the side on the table. The room was covered in gray paneled walls and the center of the room was dominated by an oak table.

The six other people down the length of the rectangular table placed their own phone lines down. They had been listening in on the call with the contractor.

“He's a professional obviously." One of the men seated around the table said. “Seems all right. And judging from the satellite feed you showed us, he's an excellent marksman."

“Yes, but this next assignment will challenge him much differently." A woman said. She had a gleam in her eyes that didn't match the expensive suit she wore. “We will have to see how he fares."

“And if he succeeds?" The man with he silk voice said.

“Then we can go off of what we know and either test him again, or hire him." The woman said. She was obviously the leader. Her hair was gray and flowed like water, but she was young. In her twenties. She also carried the wisdom of a nun with her that didn't match her suit or looks.

“It's settled then." A new person seated around the table said. “We will have to wait."

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End of Chapter 1.
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Thanks guys! I'm hoping that since I started posting these in the War section instead of the Literature section that these attract a lot more attention. Part 2 soon.

Tags:

@MR_EVIL_OVERLORD
@TheTitaniumTitan
@DarkTitan_
@RockTomb

 

I use War players as characters here, so it's relevant to the War section somewhat. Plus take a war (with a lowercase W) story, and MC-War is based off of Call of Duty, which is based of warfare, which also correlates. Plus, you get more views and reads in the War section cause no one checks out the literature section xD they aren't really required to add to the discussion of the server. The LEGO gun builds by @CAShep aren't moved from the War section, so why should my writing? They both involve War somewhat.

 

I was using the Lego builds as an example, I wasn't accusing you of saying they should be under off topic.