"Get ready, red team. They're coming." Adam 387, a Spartan, stood on the rooftop of what had once been an apartment complex. It was now a gutted husk. Most of the buildings in Kennedy City were husks, mere shadows of what they had been before. It had been peaceful, before the United Space Soviet Socialist Republic came into the picture. When it did, Adam and two of his teammates, Steven and Emily, had taken out the leader on New Reach. Now it was time to kill his followers. The group that they had reached and revealed the truth to had joined them, so they were not alone. "Here they come," Adam said as he peered through his binoculars.
"Yes, I said move group three forwards, and bring group five around to flank them! What part of that simple plan did you not understand?" General Cossades's veins were throbbing out of his head. How did he get stuck with these idiots?
"I understand perfectly sir, but group three is under heavy attack. The two supporting scorpions have been destroyed, and my men are under heavy fire," came the voice of the captain over the radio. "I am requesting permission to alter the plan a little under enemy fire."
"Permission denied," the general barked, "You'll stick to it. I'm sending in a Spartan team as we speak. You'll be all right."
"Yes sir," came the reply. Gunfire could be heard over the radio, and a blood-curdling screech of pain. The General knew that the captain had just bought it. He turned around to see one of the Spartans standing alone behind him, a sniper rifle on his shoulder.
"Ah, I see you're ready, Captain. What was your name again?"
The Spartan's reply was brief. "Jareth, sir."
"Yes, well, you'd better get going. I want you on ridge three, sniping off every officer that you see. Is that clear?"
"Good. Now move out."
Emily stared down the scope of her sniper rifle, searching for the right target. She found it, a lieutenant, and squeezed the trigger when her integral targeting reticule went red. Blood spewed from the wound, and he fell to the asphalt with a "CRACK." Men scattered. They weren't expecting this, Emily thought, Not expecting that we'd get the high ground. A voice crackled over her radio. "Emily, give me a situation report."
It was Adam. He sounded cool, calm. The way he almost always did in battle.
"Adam, this is Emily. Nailed a captain and a lieutenant. How's things going from the CO's perspective?"
"Pretty good," the other Spartan replied, "we've lost about eight men so far, though. Steve?"
Another voice came through Emily's comlink as she found another target and squeezed the trigger. "Yo, whatcha need, boss?"
"Steve, you got that RL ready with you?"
"I follow. You're singing my song, buddy."
Emily smiled. Good old Steve. Always came through in a pinch. Once more she found a target, fired, and heard another death cry.
Steve smiled as he heaved the rocket launcher onto his back. He took aim at a large group of soldiers, and fired ahead of them. They ran straight into it, and were incinerated. Bullets pinged around him from assault rifle fire, and he lowered the launcher. He took out his shotgun, and ran down the stairway to the bottom floor. He needed to be in his element. His shotgun was like another part of his body when he was in combat, and he controlled it perfectly. It was time to go out and show those Communists who they were dealing with.
Adam continued to survey the battle through his binoculars. Steven was going out of his post, but Adam didn't care. Steve always took care of himself. Always. Adam rose to head for the stairwell, when a sniper shot rang out. The bullet barely missed his head. Adam dove behind a concrete barrier, and another shot rang from the assassin's rifle, only this time the bullet hit his foot. He could feel the bullet penetrate his shield, and he felt hot lead go in one side and out of the other. "Another **** reason," He growled, "Why I prefer front line combat instead of commanding." He hit his comlink button. Nothing happened. "They're jamming me. They know who to come after. I'm trapped!"
To Be Continued