FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

---

"Echo-three Command, Echo-three Command. This is Charlie-one-three-zero-Echo. E-T-A to drop zone; fifteen minutes, over..."

It was a late summer's night. High above the clouds, a large, unmarked transport plane buzzed loudly; it's four propeller engines whirring and stirring up small tufts of the cotton-like vapour that collided with the blades.

"Roger that Charlie-one-three-zero-Echo. This is Echo-three. Report back when the package is away. Out..."

"Roger that Echo-three. Charlie-one-three-zero-Echo out..."

After the pilot reported in to command, he carefully eased on the throttle of the plane slightly, and then flicked a few switches as red and green lights flashed off of his shaded visor from the control panel in front of him.

The co-pilot was reading a few dials and making slight adjustments himself on the panel in front of him too.

"Hmm...wet one tonight..." the co-pilot hailed to the pilot.

"Yeah...considering its summer. But that's the tropics for you..." the pilot answered, checking the pressure and humidity readings for himself.

The large, metallic, muddy-green door screeched open as someone unlocked it behind them. It quickly swung open soon afterwards.

"Damn door...needs a lot of oil, this one...Anyways, how long until we touch down? The guys are getting pumped from all this excitement and having to wait..."

A large black wolf had entered the cockpit, looking a little disgruntled from the need to force the door open, but part of it could have been due to his rowdy cohorts causing a little ruckus not too long ago before he'd entered.

"Sorry Sergeant...another hour until we get to the outpost. The troops are pissing you off again, huh?" the pilot chuckled, looking back to the co-pilot who chuckled along with him.

There was a small jolt through the plane which caused the annoyed wolf to stumble a little, grumbling low again as he lifted himself up. He'd barely caught onto the frame of the door as he almost hit the floor.

"You could say that...they manage one or two small ops missions and they think they're God-damn Rambo!" he growled.

"I've got a good mind to kick their asses out of the fucking plane with no parachute..."

"Hehe...well, hang in there. You can kick their asses when we reach the outpost."

The pilot and co-pilot chuckled once more as the wolf turned around, resuming their run while the annoyed Sergeant began to shut the door.

"You're god-damn right I will!" he barked dangerously, wrenching the door shut as well as the locking mechanism.

The large wolf's muscled frame rippled as he did so, letting out a large, frustrated sigh and stepped down from the doorway, through a slightly cramped archway of metal.

Passing through the section which housed the toilet cabin and slightly further along, the tiny kitchen, he got closer and closer to the distant laughing and chuckling of a group of men in the cargo hold.

As he emerged, one or two caught a glimpse of the Sergeant before continuing with their small story exchanging session. The Sergeant took a seat on a tough bench-like feature that was flush against the wall of the small bay he'd emerged from.

He was sat next to a much smaller fur, all-clad in black from head to toe. The Sergeant did not know him or have him under his command, but he sure as hell got along with him with the way he was; silent and focused.

"Hehe! So...there I was. In my brand new car, smokin' hot vixen by my side as we were cruisin'-" a large wolf, just like the Sergeant, was giving his team a little reminiscing session of his personal life before being interrupted by one of them.

"You sure it weren't a guy? The only vixen I've seen you have any luck with turned out to be a guy. And from what I heard, he sure had a good time from you...!"

They all laughed loudly, even the wolf that had been interrupted before humouring his pals.

"Hey...I didn't find out until he was back at my place. I just thought, 'well, I've paid him now' and give him the time he was looking for. I suppose I got what I was looking for out of him..." he chuckled, the retort gaining a large round of laughing and applause.

The silent figure was resting his eyes; his arms folded while he drummed away at an arm with his fingers. He gave a little flinch and twitched his ears slightly at the excessively loud conversation. He clearly wasn't enjoying his time in their company equally as much as the Sergeant.

He began to gently tap a booted hind-paw on the cold, hard floor, timing it with the light drumming of his fingers as he opened his eyes when the disturbance had subsided.

The black balaclava he was wearing fitted rather loosely over his head, his gaze transfixed on the floor as his mind raced. His upper half was fitted with a black jacket, no marks or symbols of any kind to indicate his rank or authority. Just multiple pockets fitted over the arms and the front.

His lower half was attired with the same style of clothing; nothing special. Just a black set of trousers with a utility belt and a few extra pockets dotted over the legs. His finger continued to drum along to his own little rhythm he had going, his paws fitted with fingerless black gloves which matched the rest of his mysterious attire.

Clearly, he did not want to be seen or heard from. Either that or he was just in the mood for dressing up.

For a short while, the group in front of him continued their crude story telling, laughing obnoxiously loud and even bringing in the Sergeant into their conversation. He would just ignore them just like the silent guy would.

They never bothered with him; they tried talking to him earlier but he just gave them the same treatment as he was now; merciless and unforgiving silence.

As they continued further on, the silent figure stopped the drumming and tapping of his foot. Just a few seconds afterwards, he unfolded his arms and gave the side of his head a quick scratch.

The Sergeant turned his head to him as if he was sure he heard a whisper come from his general direction. He shrugged it off, turning his gaze back to the group of furs in front of him.

The black figure suddenly stood up and began walking to the back of the plane, disappearing behind a large, netted crate that was bolted down securely to the rungs on the floor. Many boxes of various shapes and sizes were stored in the large holding area.

Shrugging off the silent fur's disappearance, the Sergeant gave a small yawn and slouched in the uncomfortable position he was sitting in. He could feel for the guy. There's only so much bullshit anyone can listen to from these idiots.

With a soft grunt, he got up off his seat once more and flexed his back, a small click sounding as he popped something back into place. He hated long haul flights.

As he went to take a step, a loud siren sounded and the air suddenly whipped around them, the plane giving a violent jerk. It could only mean one thing; the loading bay had just been opened.

Every one of the furs realised that the door had been opened and they all jolted upright in surprise, quickly weaving their way to the back of the plane. By the time they managed to reach the back of the plane, the door had been completely lowered and the black figure was standing at the very edge, looking down at the moonlit clouds below.

He had secured a parachute as well as a large sack attached that matched the rest of his outfit.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the Sergeant yelled, gripping onto the side of the plane with a paw. The icy wind continued to whip around them and made them stumble as they edged towards the black-clad fur.

His tail that was covered in the same material swept from side to side as he stood at the edge of the platform before turning around and giving them a cold stare that was probably even icier than the wind.

The wolf that had been story-telling earlier had produced an assault rifle; an M4 Carbine which he was awkwardly brandishing at the mysterious figure as he was jostled by the wind slightly.

"Hey! Get back in here asshole!" he shouted, barely audible as the wind whistled and whipped at their clothes, the bagginess causing a small cracking sound to be produced.

The fur put up his paws to around shoulder height, though from what they could make out from his covered muzzle, was a small smile.

He leant backward, boots hinged on the edge of the platform before falling freely from the plane. He gave them a small wave of his fingers as his paws were held up as he pivoted before he cleared the plane and was soon accelerating through the clouds.

He only got a quick glimpse of the plane before he was swallowed up by the clouds, quickly reaching into a pocket to put on some goggles. When they were snapped over his eyes, he tightened up his body, accelerating himself even further before he popped out finally from underneath.

The wind tore at his attire, the bagginess easing his decent a little as it whistled around his ears. It was raining too; though his speed outmatched every droplet that he passed on the way down.

The ground was getting closer and closer as he dived further and further, soon becoming uncomfortably close as details of trees could now be seen through his slightly steamed goggles.

He could barely hear himself think through the wind whistling in his ears, counting carefully. When he reached his mark, he levelled out for only a second or two before pulling the rip cord.

Another few short seconds passed and he was tugged back roughly, body yanked to a standing position as he could just make out the canopy of the sea of trees below him.

Floating down, it didn't take long before he reached the canopy. He had cut that one very finely. He kept his hind-paws out so he could see where he was going to land high in the trees; the harness he was held in did not make it very easy to navigate him but he was used to this.

Skilfully, he stepped quickly on the brittle branches at the top of the trees that glided past him, still descending until he caught a glimpse of a sturdy branch ahead. A quick yank of his harness as well as professional timing and he'd freed himself of the parachute, catching hold of the branch he had targeted.

He watched the parachute continue on not very far along before it was ensnared in some of the spindly branches of the leafy canopy.

With a silent sigh, he dropped down below to more branches, weaving his way through the sturdy tree he had landed in. It was a very tall tree, mainly housing thick, sturdy branches that made it all the more quickly for his path to ground.

The last branch he dangled himself from before landing with a soft thud on the moist undergrowth beneath. It gave a slight squelch as he took a step or two away from the tree, surveying his surroundings extremely carefully.

The trees acted as a very useful cover against the pouring rain. Here and there were miniature paths of water falling from the leafy tops; he made sure the area was clear before he did anything else.

He knelt down on one knee, concealing his muzzle by dipping it into his chest as he placed a paw to his ear, finally about to break his mysterious silence for the first time of the night.

"Echo-three Command, come in. This is Delta-Oscar. Package delivered. Awaiting instructions..."

*******

It was the dead of night. Summer had not long set in, making it comfortably cool. The dead of night at this time, was a remarkably bright night. The street lamps were aided slightly as the sky was a deep shade of blue, only the crescent moon and a few bright stars visible in the pristine street.

One or two late night furs were wandering on the scene of a large apartment block, not even stirring at the sight of the jet black car pulling up, it's lights glaring and lighting up the scene a lot more effectively than the street lights themselves.

It was a short while before there was any sign of life in the car as the rear door clicked and swung open. A tall and well dressed horse got out of the car, carefully adjusting the collar on his suit. His other paw was carrying a jet black briefcase that was just like the car in colour, except for its leathery texture.

Shutting the car door gently, he stepped with purpose to the front doors of the apartment block, taking short glances left and right as he rang the buzzer to one of the rooms.

After a short wait, the intercom buzzed and a boy answered,

"Hello?" his tone sounding inquisitive.

"Hello there, is your father home? It's Paul. I have a business proposition for him..." the horse answered as he pressed the button to talk over the intercom. The light that was shining through the windows of the door lit up the horse's face, his fur just a slightly faded black.

"Yeah, sure. Come on in..." The boy uttered a little reluctantly. There was another short buzz and the horse walked through the door, taking another few short glances from side to side.

He took the flight of stairs that were set in front of him, making his way to the first floor. Striding slowly through the corridor to a white, slightly worn door, he gave it a short knock.

"It's open..." the boy called out, being slightly muffled through the door. Turning the cold metallic handle, he once again, glanced once or twice at his flanks before entering.

He was met by the sight of a casually dressed, young 'roo. He was laid back with his feet propped up on a small coffee table, a finger and a thumb of his right paw gently caressing his forehead with the tips as he rested his eyes.

"You sounded a little disappointed there..." the horse stated, he closed the door behind him and strutted his way over to a chair on the opposite side of the table. The apartment block was immaculate. It would be hard to think that anyone was living there. It looked like more of a holiday apartment. The owner obviously spared no expense.

The large three-seat sofa was luxuriously comfy from what the horse could tell as he sat. A large, flat screen TV was attached to the smooth, white wall to the horse's right, the curtains drawn behind him in front of a large window.

By the side was the archway to the kitchen which was currently lit by the light of the room they currently occupied. A white, wooden door sat opposite which probably led to the bedroom.

"Well...I'm waiting on a pizza..." the boy yawned, continuing his gentle ministrations to his forehead. He looked a little uncomfortable.

"Headaches again, huh?" the horse asked, looking a little annoyed. He did not want the kangaroo's ailment to get in the way of his business.

"Yeah...you've known me for almost three years and you still don't know about this?" he said, his tone becoming a little annoyed.

The horse looked a little disgruntled but didn't let it bother him. He had more pressing matters than an annoyed kid.

"Anyway...here..." the horse huffed, snapping open the briefcase in his lap and taking out a large, light-brown file. He held it by the bottom and gave it a wave to maybe catch the kangaroo's attention as he massaged his forehead before slapping it onto the table.

The file slid it's way up the table, bouncing off of the roo's foot a little. He opened his eyes, keeping the same pose before slowly sitting up, giving a small sigh.

"We wouldn't usually give you something like this but, it's come to our attention that there may be a leak..." the horse stated, sighing heavily as he leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

The kangaroo leant over and swivelled the file the right way up and flicked it open. He sped his way through the file, the horse finding it a little hard to believe that he could take any of it in with the speed he turned the pages, no matter how many times he's seen it been done.

"You got any leads or suspicions?" the kangaroo asked, observing a map with planned routes and targets.

"Well, we have a few under surveillance at the moment that could be possible threats, but so far, they haven't stepped a foot out of line." The horse sighed again, clearly exhausted from his efforts. The 'roo was in the middle of reading another page of notes before he gave a small, humorous grunt.

"No weapons huh?" he inquired, taking his gaze off of the file for the first time.

"Well...other than the package of C4. No...we can't have anything traceable that would imply it was us. All your equipment will be unmarked. If you need weapons, you'll need to acquire them on site. That shouldn't be too hard for someone of...your calibre, would it?" the horse mockingly joked, yet still keeping the professional tone that experience had given him.

"Hmm, if you say so..." the 'roo replied, not really taking notice. He didn't take much longer until he had finished reading the whole file while the black stallion awaited any further questions. He didn't oblige him with any.

"Well, as the file said, the target is located in north-west Venezuela, along the Catatumbo River. It's on the outskirts of a village called Las Loras. A small oil refinery. That's just a cover for a currently growing PMC which has been operating and aiding terrorists it seems." The stallion had leant back in his chair, reminiscing over the briefing information.

"How'd you manage get the Intel like this?" the roo asked, leaning back himself and slowly taking up his previous position.

"Well, it seems that luck would have it, they now have a leak too. He reported it to us about two months ago. He's a mercenary that's high up in the ranks of the PMC in question. He doesn't like the fact that he's dealing with terrorists. He's going to be your contact on the mission, aiding entry into the underground complex of the target."

"You know I need to work al-"

"I know...but we need to make sure this mission goes smoothly. The last few missions assigned to some of the special-ops teams ended up in disaster. A few had lost their lives because of this leak. He or even she; has access to a lot of information. Even your file..." the stallion cut in.

"Hmm...it'll make it more interesting I suppose." The 'roo gave a short, mocking laugh.

"Well...if you say so. Unfortunately, we can't drop you near the target. In fact, we had to set the drop zone in Columbia. We couldn't get the permission to enter Venezuelan airspace so we had to settle for that. You're just going to have to cross the border. It's hostile territory along the border and they'll probably have a checkpoint along the river."

"Then, I'm guessing I'm going to have to sneak my way past?"

"Yes. Its best if you keep to the river being as it'll make the journey a lot shorter to the target. As you could see from the satellite images, the river runs right by the refinery." The stallion motioned his paw to the file as he stated the little fact.

"We need you to verify the leak, alive or dead. Preferably alive if you can so we can see the extent of the damage they've caused. Operations would value interrogating this leak for everything they're worth. Your second primary objective is to neutralise the PMC activity. Damn mercenaries have caused enough destruction as it is..."

They both sat there silently; the last sentence making the two of them reminisce over the past few events that cost many lives due to the collaboration of the terrorists and mercenaries. It had been over the news but just the announcements of the dead. Many of them had families...

The young 'roo decided to finally oblige the stallion with a question.

"When will the operation start?" He seemed rather impatient as he asked the question. He obviously was not looking forward to it.

"Two days from now-I know...I know...you've only just been assigned your month's leave but...this mission calls for precision. You'll have to leave with me immediately for your full briefing."

The horse began to shift in his seat to get up when the 'roo put his paw up demandingly. The horse stopped in his tracks, watching as the 'roo looked up once more from his irritated pose.

"Not until my pizza arrives. I've been looking forward to this. You guys have some of the worst food I've tasted so I'm gonna savour this...Oh...what d'ya know..." he yawned, clearly ignoring the offended stares of his superior as the intercom buzzed a few times. Superiors or not, nothing came between this kangaroo and his pizza.

*******

"Affirmative, Delta-Oscar. Make your way on foot to the target. Watch out for patrols along the way as well as the checkpoint along the river. It's vital that you make sure that you aren't detected. You have four hours before sunrise. Cut communications once the operation is initiated."

The stern voice crackled in the figure's ear, his eyes slowly scanning the area before he removed the rest of the harness from the parachute he'd abandoned just a minute earlier.

"Echo-three has the range but I find it such a waste of resources to use a radar plane during a silent mission...but anyways, DARPA has improved the GPS PDA. They actually waterproofed the damn thing this time..." the figure whispered slightly angrily. Obviously it was frustration from a previous mission.

The figure had pulled a considerably large yet slender device from a sleeve on his backpack and clipped it in place to his left, inner forearm. Switching it on, it flashed into life, his fingers dancing over the touch-screen as he calibrated it within seconds.

"Yes. They may leave a feature or two out at first for scenarios but it's solved soon. They never expected it to be used in that particular environment."

"Yeah well...I didn't really expect myself to be in that 'environment' either," he replied sarcastically, still reminiscing over the memory of the particularly wet mission.

"That's enough, Delta. You have permission to initiate the operation. We need absolute radio silence as they'll probably be monitoring all radio frequencies. Only break silence if there are further complications. This is the final broadcast. Echo-three Command out."

"Roger Echo-three. Delta out..." the figure gave a small sigh before stretching out his arms to shrug away the tiredness from his dull and irritable experience on the transport plane he'd just endured.

With a few quick taps of his finger tips, he used the PDA to check his position, gain his bearings and then tapped the screen once more to power it down. Turning on the spot slightly, he gave a quick glance around before launching himself forward.

He pushed off with power, but with such elegance that his footsteps were just mere light patters against the moist ground as he weaved his way through the lush, dense forest.

Here and there, large growths would block his route; though he leapt and cleared them with ease, maybe catching onto an over-hanging branch or two to swing over them. It just seemed fun and games to him as the forest became his playground.

His pace gained him ground quickly, and it was not long before he had reached the bank of the river he was supposed to follow along. The moonlight glittered in the reflection of the river as it tumbled downstream. The rain had stopped rather suddenly.

Above the sounds of the considerably calm crashing of water, a small chugging could be heard from an engine. With a quick tap of his PDA, the figure checked his position once more, tapping it again to switch it off as a boat drifted its way into view.

As it chugged along, a large search light flitted back and forth, lighting up sections of the river with a powerful glare. He smiled slyly under his balaclava, breaking into a sprint along the bank.

His dark profile blended in easily with the darkness of the surroundings, the moonlight blocked by the trees that towered above him and the river.

At the last second, he launched himself into the air towards the boat, the shear power clearing the large gap along the water. He landed entirely on his feet, causing a large crash to echo out as he landed on the roof of the boat.

The occupants became extremely startled, shouting and shuffling around beneath as he effortlessly leapt from the roof, clearing the smaller gap and landing elegantly back on the opposite side of the river bank with a small chuckle. They did only tell him to make sure he wasn't spotted by the enemy...

He strutted into the nearby gathering of trees as the commotion on the boat unfolded, the person operating the spotlight swivelling rapidly as he tried to search for any source of the disturbance while a few others were checking over the boat.

He laughed to himself some more before he broke of into a jog, accelerating back into a sprint.

It wasn't long before he'd come across a checkpoint along the river. The patrol boat he'd come across had obviously radioed in about the disturbance; they seemed to be suspiciously searching around the general area of the checkpoint.

He'd effortlessly made his way through though; timing it just right so that none of them would spot him as he blatantly mocked their efforts and ran right through the checkpoint, leaping over the gate and continuing onwards with his speedy pace.

He was soon back into darkness as he gained more and more ground away from the checkpoint, stopping only every so often to check how far his target was located. As he ran, his objectives raced through his mind while the moonlight glanced over him through the breaks in the canopy above.

*******

After what felt like an hour; the rain had fluctuated, subsiding finally as the clouds had cleared up completely. Soaked right through, the dark figure was jolting through the forest tirelessly. His cautious approach had subsided up to now; catching sight of no militia for quite a while; just the rushing sound of the river to accompany him as he ran alongside it.

Then, all of a sudden, he immediately stopped; his momentum causing him to glide along the muddy floor for a good distance. He'd caught sight of the oil refinery across the river.

Finally, he was at the location.

Stepping lightly, he took cover behind a large set of bushes accompanied by a tree, quickly beginning to remove the large pack from his back and began to remove its contents. After he found a set of binoculars, he immediately stopped what he was doing and began surveying the considerably small refinery.

He needed a better vantage point. The large, concrete walls surrounding the refinery were obstructing everything but the view of the two watch towers towering high above everything. But with the numerous guards on watch, the view told him a lot already.

"Certainly a lot of militia activity for a small refinery supplying gas to the local villages..." he muttered to himself. With a quick heave, he launched himself up into the tree, catching the first branch and began a speed-climb almost to the very top.

Once up there, he got a clear view over the inside and gave a quiet whistle, being rather impressed by the sight.

"Oh...you've certainly been very...busy...bees...", he uttered to himself, catching sight of a large canvas-covered block which would probably have been some sort of vehicle parked next to a large platform elevator area; a crane over-hanging above them both . Plenty of militia, more likely to be mercenaries, were occupying the space alongside the sparsely built structures inside the compound.

"Aw...man...now that would be good entertainment...! Where'd you sneaky bastards grab a hold of that...?" he smirked to himself, catching sight of the Challenger 2 Tank parked up at the side of what was probably the main entrance to the refinery.

Checking his PDA once more, he sifted through the information on the refinery, noting the obvious improvements the current occupiers had given it such as the concrete walls, tank and platform elevator bay. But his main concern was the entrance to the underground levels.

With a quick flick, he turned off the PDA once more and descended the tree with haste. Taking cover behind the bush once more after reaching ground, he removed a crammed back-pack containing the C4 he'd been issued. After removing the packs, he immediately began assembling the charges; he'd had enough experience to quickly charge them with precision.

Then, he removed a large vest from inside the larger bag he'd been carrying, strapping up the armour, black in colour, over his current attire. If things were going to get messy, he was going to need that.

And last, but not least, he finally removed a very long, slender object from the bag; the way he handled it almost made it seem as if it could break from the slightest of breezes.

He held it steadily, gripping one end gently and pulled, unsheathing a glinting blade. The entire thing had been wrapped with black, electrical tape to ensure it was carefully concealed; the only part not covered was the blade itself. This was his lucky charm; it had never steered him wrong. Some have necklaces; some have pictures. His was the blade.

He stared at his distorted reflection in the blade for a while, reflecting over the object before he sheathed it the sword once more, then brought it up over his head to neatly slot it into a specially designed strap on the back of his vest.

With a soft sigh, he began packing up prepared C4 into the small back-pack, zipping it up tight and threw it over his shoulder, weaving the other arm through the other strap so it was secure on his back.

"Show time..."

*******

The crossing over the river was not the easiest he'd experienced. With no boat in the water to use as a platform and the considerable increase in the slope of the river bank to an almost vertical drop, it was more like climbing down and up a mountain.

He had to take it slowly rather than dive in the water and risk exposing himself with the noise from his splash. The torrential strength of the river had not died down, even though the rain had, but lucky for him, he could manage the ten meter swim across with considerable ease.

After reaching the top of the other side of the river bank, he had finally reached his destination. His cautious demeanour had returned; his movements fluid and silent once more as he stalked through the undergrowth.

"Come on...where are you...?" he grumbled to himself. His gazed shifted along the path ahead, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Hmm...maybe up here..." he continued, stalking silently alongside the concrete perimeter of the refinery. Getting closer to the corner towards the main entrance, he quickly took cover into another large bush; a bright light burned his gaze all of a sudden from an oncoming vehicle that was making its way along the dusty road.

"Took long enough..." he though to himself. It began to slow down to a halt, making itself clearer to be a large delivery truck; just what he needed. It had clearly been through hell with the busted look of the cab and the rickety patchwork on the crooked wooden rail on the back.

Two armed guards came striding up either side of the truck in front of the checkpoint, eyeing up everything from the rugged look to the tired-looking driver who almost looked as rough as the truck.

Without hesitation, the driver had produced a clipboard for one of the guards to read. The guard snatched it out of the driver's paw, trying on the aggressive intimidation that most rookies seemed to enjoy flaunting. There was not any success in this case. The driver could not care less.

The other guard had been searching and inspecting the truck all over; even the flimsily stacked cargo in the back. Eagerly anticipating the moment, the black figure had propped himself up almost just on his finger-tips and toe-tips.

When the guard was satisfied, he gave the thumbs up to his cohort at the front and dropped down off of the back of the truck. The guard questioning the driver tapped on the door of the truck heavily; hailing the driver to go through before turning around to head back to his post as well.

As soon as the guard's head was turned away; like a shot, the figure launched himself at high speed from his crouched position in the bushes. The heavy, rattling engine of the truck covered his heavily pounding footsteps as he dashed for the back of the truck.

He appeared in the driver's wing mirror just for a split second; a whisp of black in the moonlit path behind.

The driver's gaze was attracted for only a second; he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him; feeling exhaustion was taking its toll. He put the truck into gear and the truck rattled on through; it was a considerably bumpy, short journey in the back of the truck. The cargo rattled loudly around the stow-away.

A short drive later, the truck came to a halt and the engine cut out not long after, followed by a heavy click, a shuffle of footsteps and the door of the driver's cab slamming shut. Voices soon followed.

The black figure took note, his ears perking before he slowly checked out of the side of the rickety rail. Carefully, he stood up so he could scan the area properly, all the while, the voices still awfully close. Looking over the cab, the figure spotted them just at the front. Only two; including the driver.

They soon began making their way around the back of the truck; a perfect opportunity to get moving. Leaping over the cab as they passed his position, he landed silently on the dusty floor, quickly taking cover behind some wooden crates not too far from the truck's position.

Starting to check his PDA one more time, his gaze darted up from the screen every other second, ensuring that no one had him in their sights. His motto was, if he could not see anyone, they could not see him; as over confident as it may have been.

"OK...the contact should be over there..." he muttered silently to himself. Powering it down, he carefully took stance, checking his flanks and behind himself.

The coast was clear.

Like black lightning, he jolted forward, kicking up dust as he speed towards the extremely large, canvas covered object which wasn't far from his starting position.

One of the spot lights had begun swinging its way towards him. He had to get out of sight. He dropped backwards, his momentum causing him to slide quickly beneath the canvas-covered object.

The material lit up and cast a desert camouflage pattern over the figure's still form, lighting up the underneath of what came to be apparent as a very large vehicle.

"Hmm...what d'you wanna hide from us...?" he uttered rhetorically to himself. Was it some sort of prototype? If so, who's the company supplying them and the researchers? He'd get his answers soon, he assured himself.

Shifting around onto his front, he began crawling beneath the expansive underneath of the huge truck-like vehicle he was under, keeping low so he did not catch the bag of C4 on the under carriage of it.

Reaching the back of the vehicle, he gently lifted the canvas up slowly, feeling a bit pushed for time; he shot out from underneath it and to the corner just right of the main gate.

He had taken cover behind more elongated crates which had weapon cases strapped to them underneath more camouflage canvas. On the other side; a guard stood rather edgily as it seemed, his gaze shifting in all directions with his tail twitching behind him.

He was attired just as the rest of the guards, olive drab uniforms, tactical vests, AK-47s. Except, this one wore a neckerchief wrapped around his left shoulder. His finger twitched at the trigger. He was going to have to take care not to startle the guy.

"Hrm...on second thought..." he thought to himself; sneaking around the side of the crates before catching the guards' itchy trigger finger paw and removing it from the gun, grabbing him by the muzzle and planted him backwards against the crates behind him.

"Ssssh...!" he whispered carefully, the guard shuddering in sudden fright from the instant disabling.

"I heard you were getting cold feet, but I weren't expecting a frightened lamb..." the black figure murmured, slowly letting up on the guard's muzzle so he could speak.

"I heard you were small, but I weren't expecting pint-sized..." the guard stuttered, still a little shaken up. Code-phrases could be cold sometimes.

"Well...formalities out of the way...ah crap!" he grunted, launching himself over the top of the crates with the guard in tow as the area was lit up like a Christmas tree by the spot light gliding over the enclosure.

"That was close..."

"Yeah..." the guard sighed shakily, breathing out the last few shudders.

"Right...we're gonna need to move fast...has the target arrived?"

"Who? Oh sorry...yeah...he's currently in the engineering level. Down below in the sub-levels of the facility. He only makes short trips to his quarters when awake. It's on the third level; last office when you take a right at the T-junction in the corridor."

"OK. What's the vehicle under cover next to the platform?"

"I don't know...I haven't been here long enough. I'm high up but, there's plenty more sub-ordinates of his he trusts more to deal with their transactions and operations. It's been there for the three months and I've only been stationed here for one."

"Hrm...fine. I'm sure there'll be something in his office. You have a gun? Anything will do. I don't want to be three levels down in a fire fight without a damn gun..."

"Oh...yeah..."

The guard fumbled at his side-arm; un-holstering and handing over a Glock 35 pistol. Immediately, the black figure began disassembling the gun, checking the barrel and firing pin as he went along.

"Don't want it jamming on me. Anyways, what's the guard detail like? What equipment do they have? How many? And on each level..." he asked very short-winded. The guard, a jackal, had finally found his own composure and was removing clips of ammo for the pistol he'd just given, watching his own flanks.

"There's twenty-five on the surface level, excluding me. Teams of three in the two watch towers. Three at the gate and the rest are split into groups of two to patrol the surface. Twenty in the make-shift barracks on the first level. The armoury is there. Watch out for the canteen; there's usually always soldiers in and out of that place..."

The jackal had produced hand-drawn layouts of each level, indicating the areas as he was detailing them.

"The second floor are the engineers and maintenance teams, though still be careful. There are two teams of two guards patrolling these corridors. The engineers operate here and the storage area that the platform over there leads to is located here. That's inaccessible to most except a few of the officers and the commander himself. I have no idea what they store there or what the engineers are working on in there."

Glancing back and forth from the make-shift maps and the gun as he checked it, he'd reassembled the gun, checking the slide-lock glided along the cold metal and cocked the empty gun, aiming and pulling the trigger with a satisfying click.

"How am I supposed to access these floors?" he interrupted, picking up a clip and glancing at the top bullet, pausing for a second, ear giving a slight twitch before sliding it into the gun though didn't cock it.

"I'll get to that...hold on. The third floor has the four officers and commanders quarters. Their quarters and offices are here and here. Here's the T-junction I was talking about and here's the commander's quarters. They'll be about the facility; most probably on the engineering level supervising the work. Any information you're looking for will be in the commander's quarters..."

"What types? Any documentation? Computer files?"

"Both. Though computer files will probably hold any information you would be looking for. To access the first level, you can use that hatch there. It's a stairway. You'll have to access the last two levels by making your way to the other side of level one and using the second stairwell to access the final two levels, over here."

With the last few details, the figure had unpacked four charges of C4 and laid them down for the jackal before strapping his backpack back up.

"OK, got it. Here, take the last of these charges. I'm gonna need you to plant these as a distraction, just in case shit hits the fan. One on the back of the tank; its armour is weaker there. Two underneath the vehicle over there under the canvas and one on in the building the tank is facing. If you can, stand point at the top of the stairs leading to second level access without drawing attention..." the figure ordered, getting up to crouch on one knee.

"OK. You sure can remember all that? And what about back-up? What's the plan once we're done with the place?"

"Nevermind that right now. I'll update you once we get out of here. Start planting those charges ASAP."

The jackal gave a slight nod, picking up the charges and packed them into large compartments on his vest and trousers before taking up his duty once more and patrolling his way over to the tank.

Giving a sigh, the figure immediately threw the Glock away, kicking the clips away and shook his head.

"Dammit...gonna need to be fast..."

As quickly as he could, he glanced quickly in the vicinity and where the spot lights were at before he jolted forward out of cover, wrenched open the hatch and made his way to basement access.

*******

He'd stalked silently down the metal, perforated steps; the poorly lit stairwell made for great cover. The stairwell was strewn with metal piping and circuitry over the walls. It almost seemed abandoned at first glance. There was a slight vibration coming from the level below, suggesting heavy activity along with the muffled sound of voices echoing; from the corridor off-shooting from the bottom of the stairwell.

Sticking close to the edge of the doorway, he peeked out to check the corridor. It was clear. He needed to get down to the third level as quickly as he could.

He bolted along the metallic corridor, lined with more pipes and circuitry. Every open doorway was treated with a quick peek around the corner before he bolted along. The soldiers were too busy sleeping. The humidity was draining.

There was a sudden flash of adrenaline as he heard one of the two teams patrolling around the corner. With quick thinking, they had gone by without noticing him. He'd hidden up in the headway with just a few inches to spare above their heads as they walked below him.

He was just a corner's turn away when the armoury caught his attention. He was going to need something for protection...

*******

He had managed to acquire another Glock 35 along with an M4A1 and a couple of grenades and clips for each. He took only what he though he might need.

And as for the stairwell just around the corner; it was totally unguarded; making it easier for him to get down to level three.

He was met with the same environmental decorations down at the officers' quarters. Carefully making his way with the M4A1, scanning along. All the officers were up in the engineering block along with the commander with the way things looked. Their quarters' were empty.

Taking that final right leading up to the commander's quarters; the door was sealed by a valve shaped handle like a pressure door on a submarine. It was locked. It presented no resistance for him though.

Discretion was something he could not afford at this point. With an effortless tug, he tore the vertical metal rods out from the holes they were slotted into and kicked the door clean off it's hinges, aiming his rifle immediately afterwards.

The lights were off. Carefully stalking into the room, he searched around on the inside wall and flicked the light on before scanning around. He'd deemed it clear. An archway to the right suggested that it was the commander's living quarters. He scanned from the archway only quickly to ensure there was no one present.

With the all clear, he swung the rifle onto his back and walked over to the cabinets next to the computer. The room was considerably empty; just the desk along with the computer and one or two cabinets of documentation. The room was just as dimly lit as the rest of the facility, pipes weaving their way all around.

He didn't expect much from them but, he opened up the dingy, steel cabinet drawers, one by one. All the while; he checked back and forth from the entrance of the quarters.

There was no time for subtleties. He just whipped out the piles of paper, scanning through general mounds. It was just mainly invoices of supplies. Once finished with, he'd just throw them to one side in the corner.

There was nothing in the first cabinet. The second one had been crushed by the door on impact. Dislodging the door, he threw it aside and effortlessly peeled open the drawers on the second like a banana.

Even less subtle with the second, he tore the drawer out and tipped them over the floor, his gaze sweeping over the papers as he swept the documents aside. He wished he hadn't checked them now.

Moving onto the computer, he held it steady before ripping off the cover. Turning it on its side; he looked around for the hardrive before detaching the connections and tore it out, air-mailing the rest of the computer unforgivingly through into the commander's living quarters.

As quick as he could, he took out a protective case from his back-pack and sealed the hardrive tight inside it. Packing it back into his bag, he suited up and began making his way out of the office.

Checking his watch, he sped off towards the stairwell entrance; time for the cover of darkness was running out. He needed to get out soon if he was going to have the night advantage anymore.

Leaping up the first flight of stairs; he was only stopped in his tracks by the racket echoing through the level-two entrance. Unable to shrug off the need to investigate, he deviated down the corridor.

Passing by a few doors, he was getting closer to the excessive noise.

The next door he passed screeched open. There was no time to hide!

In the blink of an eye, he'd swung around, aiming his rifle down the corridor. Just a second later, the barrel of another rifle protruded out.

Hurtling forward, by the time the soldier had stepped out; the figure gripped their paw at the trigger, removing it from the trigger. Following up with gripping the barrel, he swung it up and hit the soldier's muzzle, a sickening crack followed by the soldier stumbling back into the room.

There was another soldier in the room. Keeping a hold on the concussed soldier, he directed his stumbling into the direction of the other, using him as a shield. After sandwiching them both against the wall, the figure threw the limp soldier to the floor and gripped the other's gun as the soldier pointed it towards him.

Before a shot was even fired, he'd twisted the gun, snapping the soldier's wrist, the gun tangled up along with it; then cleanly landing a leaping elbow to his muzzle and knocking him violently to the floor before whipping his M4A1 back at the ready.

He aimed back and forth at the two of them; they were clearly dispatched, eyes glazed over. He huffed out loud, stepping back, tugging the door along with him as he stepped out. Reaching inside at the valve handle, he tore it off, the metal screeching loudly as he did.

"Here's a present for you..." he almost jeered at the unconscious soldiers on the floor, throwing the handle in between them. Shutting the door behind him, he turned the handle on the outside; another shriek of distorting metal and he sent the handle reeling out into the stairway.

He was getting impatient now.

He quickly made his way to the source of the excessive noise; an open doorway. He readied himself for a clearance. Swinging around into the room, he swept left and right. He was high up on a platform with stairs to his right leading down into the very large room.

Looking down at the occupants below, he would have dropped the M4A1 if it was not strapped to his shoulder. Four extremely long missiles we lined up in parallel; a fifth was currently surrounded by numerous furs at the back of the room. They were clearly engineers as they tinkered with the internals.

The sheer size and look of the internals gave him the immediate facts to conclude that these were ICBMs.

"Ah man...this is turning into a major shit-storm..."

He had no choice; he was going to have to break radio silence. Glancing down the stairs as he was about to contact command, he spotted a soldier making his way to the stairs. He acted instinctively.

In an instant, he bolted down the stairs and leaped at the soldier, landing a kick directly into his stomach. He cleared six feet before he hit the floor and skidded into the wall, extremely winded.

A muffled yell of distress made him swing around. An engineer had spotted him. It was too late though; he'd pulled the trigger and silenced them before they could run. That was more for what there could be said for the shot of the rifle. It echoed throughout the room.

Things were falling apart quickly. He had to stop the engineers right away. He sped off around the side of the extensive missile in front of him, making it to the back of the room to the confused and startled engineers.

Mercilessly, in cold blood, he opened fire on them. Blood sprayed the floor, the walls, and the missile. They never saw it coming. All but one, he slaughtered like lambs, leaving only one with an excruciated injury to the knee; he was going to need this one. He yelled out in agony and fear.

He pressed his finger to his ear.

"Echo-three command, echo-three command. This is Delta-Oscar. Situation has escalated to red alert! Repeat, red alert! Unknown ICBMs are currently being developed at this facility. Activation status: Unknown, over..."

"Roger Delta-Oscar. Is there any personnel that can give light on the situation, over?"

"Affirmative, command. Engineering personnel acquired. I request permission for immediate interrogation and diffusion of situation. I'm sure the cavalry will be arriving on my tail soon, over..."

"Request granted, Delta-Oscar. Keep the ICBMs intact. Don't want to have a nuclear disaster on our hands. If at all possible, also keep to the same objectives. We need that leak, dead or alive. Command out..."

"Affirmative, command. Delta-Oscar out..."

After signing off, the room suddenly became ablaze with red alert lights, followed by a bellowing siren that shrieked throughout the room, making him wince a little from the knife-like stabbing pitch.

He needed to stall for as much time as possible. He ran for the bottom of the stairs, catching sight of the contact zooming in.

"What the hell did you do?!" he yelled out, barely audible from the shrieking siren and the voice now directing all available troops to the second level.

"No time to talk...get out of my way!"

He shoved the contact forcefully out of the way and shot up the stairs. Just like he did to the previous door, he tore the handle off, shut the door and secured it before doing the same to the handle on the inside of the room.

"Get down there now! Take position behind the end of one of those missiles!" he yelled, pointing at the general area of the unfinished ICBM.

Half way down the stairs, he cleared the rail and landed on the floor as the contact began making his way to the other end of the manufacturing lab.

"Holy...shit...what did you-"

"Shut up, get in position! Watch that entrance and keep it in your sights!"

The figure's orders were cold and calculating just like his next move.

"OK...don't give me bullshit because I know what these are! I'll make it less painful for you if you answer my questions...!" the figure yelled at the engineer. The engineer cowered on the floor, awash in pain and agony from the bullet to the shin and covered in a pain-induced cold sweat.

"O-OK! OK...!P-please don't hurt m-me...!" he fumbled in terror, gasping for breath.

"Now! What ICBMs are these?! What yield?! And the delivery system used?!"

By the time he'd asked the questions, the alarm had subsided and clear attempts to gain access to the room were currently in motion by the soldiers. The engineer just nursed his wound, a cold sweat running off his brow.

"HEY!" the figure yelled impatiently. The engineer looked at him with mixed emotions of anger and fear.

"Oh...I'm sorry...I forgot to say...please..." he calmly said with a sarcastic look of his eyes, stepping on the engineer's wounded leg as he said please.

"AAAH!!! OK! OK! They're RT-2PM Topols! Five-hundred and fifty kilo-tonnes! AAAH!!! Please...STOP!!! AH!!!" he almost shrieked out in agony. But his torturer did not let up.

"AND?! Come on!!!" he demanded, twisting his boot on the engineer's leg heavily.

"AH!!! And...!!! A-and it uses a MAZ-7917 as transportation and launch pad! AAAH!!! PLEASE!!!"

This time; begging for mercy worked. The figure took his foot off and cursed out loud.

"Wait!!! Wait!!! There's more...they have no-" the engineer began but was cut off when a gun clicked behind the figure.

"Now...! I think that's enough information...don't you? Uh uh! Don't turn around! Drop your weapon! Nice and slow..."

The informant...backstabbing bastard.

"Heh...should have seen this coming..." the figure chuckled unsurprised. He did as he was told, holding out his right arm, using his left to remove the strap of his weapon and slide it onto the ground, kicking it away.

"Ha! Just as we should expect gutless cowards spilling their guts to assholes like you at the slightest bit of danger...and the pistol...drop it!"

The informant had gotten close enough to press the end of his gun barrel to the back of his head.

"Heh...well...that's the thing. There always will be guys like that..." he stated calmly, removing the Glock from its holster on his vest and dangled it with his thumb and index finger high in the air by its handle.

"Oh and...I've been onto you since you gave me clips with the blanks. Thought I'd send you on a wild goose chase just to keep me from killing you a little longer..." he laughed.

"Yeah...well too bad..." he gritted through his teeth, prodding the barrel into the back of his head to jostle it forward a little.

"Indeed..."

He left the hand gun drop.

In quick succession, his tail swung upwards and knocked the barrel away from his head; then performed a roundhouse kick with the back of his heel to knock the double-crossing informant flying backwards. He caught the gun once more before it even travelled half way to the floor.

He aimed and pulled the trigger five times. There we now two furs in agony.

"It's too bad I had to wait this long to do this..." the figure exclaimed, walking up to the dropped informant, bleeding out of both knees and arms where the bullets had struck. The fifth was used to completely sever his trigger finger.

He pointed the gun at the double-crosser's head.

"...Sweet dreams..." he jeered cold-heartedly and pulled the trigger. The engineer was stunned; partly because of the partial blood-loss too if anything.

"Now...you were saying..." he turned around, his eyes showing a dangerous spark. Glaring at the engineer, he dropped the clip and slid in a new one, cocking back the slide with threatening jerk. And once again, the engineer poured out to him.

"T-they aren't a-a-armed with warheads yet...W-we don't have the materials for that. They didn't want to risk it. There's another facility where they'll be transported to be armed. Right now, they just have the explosives and the solid fuel..."

This was something he could work with...thankfully.

"The MAZ up on the surface is already loaded with one. They plan on transporting the rest via the flatbed to the facility to arm them. It's roughly a mile north of-"

"Thank you..." the figure sighed, removing his back-pack as he interrupted the engineer.

"Wait...that's it? What about-?", the engineer started but was once again interrupted; this time with a bullet between the eyes.

He began removing more charges from his back-pack. If they were still armed with explosives and fuel, the missiles were going to make one hell of a bang anyways. Setting the timers for an hour, he planted one on every ICBM, near the engine exhausts so they were disguised well. He was going to need time to shoot his way out.

The whole incident kept him side-tracked from the progression of the soldiers out of the room. A deafening explosion caused the door to crumple and fly off its hinges at the top of the stairs.

"Ah shit...here comes the cavalry..." he groaned, taking up his pistol and aiming at the entrance, hurrying his way over to the M4A1 lying on the ground. Luckily he had planted the last charge on the fourth missile.

Soldiers streamed in not long after. He emptied the Glock almost instantaneously, managing to get to the M4A1 in time to continue the stream of gunfire and drop a fair few enemies in the process.

When the gun ran dry, he ran for cover behind the unfinished fifth missile, sliding the bag underneath and laid out some clips of ammo. He reloaded quickly.

He heard the heavy hammering of footsteps echoing around the hall. They'd cut the power to the equipment around him because there was no excessive noise or vibration for a while.

He exhaled silently, then popped up and unloaded another full clip at the stairwell. He was thinning out the numbers well. Gunfire started flying overhead but it was soon halted by an officer.

"STOP!!! You'll blow the fucking missiles!"

"Seems like they aren't too smart!" the figure yelled out, jeering the officer.

"It seems you aren't either, getting cornered...maybe if you come quietly, we can make things easier for you..." Now that he seemed calmer, the figure swore he recognised the officer's voice.

He took a quick peek under the missile. Then hoisted the Glock over the top and felled five more soldiers. The shuffling and shouting clearly signalled that they had become more distraught.

"Don't be so sure...!" he yelled once more and tactically took to ground and emptied the clip underneath his cover; many yells of pain, agony and panic filled the room as the figure's marksmanship cleared a path after clipping a few more soldiers' legs.

He reloaded quickly and popped a flash-bang over top, covering his ears and closing his eyes for a brief moment. The muffled bang signalled his relocation, swinging the bag over his shoulder and taking his freshly loaded rifle in arms.

But all of a sudden, as he cleared cover, he thought he may have been hit at first. He collapsed to the floor, his legs seizing on him.

No! Not now...! He needed to get clear!

He quickly declined into a curled up mess, a seizure of uncontrollable pain racked his body. The pain soon became too unbearable to contain and his paws gripped his head; his brain feeling four sizes too big for his skull. If it weren't for his balaclava, his fingers would have buried themselves into the flesh.

The pain was so unbearable, he could not even register the bullet from an enemy AK burry itself deep into the back of his right shoulder, knocking him over onto his back.

The attack was quickly taking its toll on him; memories flashing before him all at once as his pain-wrought body began to lose feeling and control.

His consciousness slipped; darkness consumed him.

---

I'd just like to thank the few who rated my stories and took time to read the stuff so far. ^^ I just had this whole thing floating around in my day dream for years and thought I'd try expressing it in words rather than having it as a nice distraction while I stack shelves in work, hehe. Anyways, the next chapter is on the way! I'll get there at somepoint! Thanks guys!