A/N: Hey there folks. This is my first story that I'll be uploading to this site, so try not to be too vicious in the reviews. Also, I'm going to get something out in the open right off the bat. The story may not seem like Command and Conquer, but trust me - there'll be references. And besides, this story is the opening act in a three part trilogy that I have planned. The other two will definitely be Command and Conquer based.
So with that said, enjoy the story. I'll upload chapters when I can, so please be patient with me. I am new with this after all. And one more thing: I would appreciate it if you, the readers, could give me some feedback so that i man know how my story is coming along.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Prologue - Chapter One
Christmas Time - "Holy shit!"
It was a quiet winter night on Christmas Eve. Most of the houses were dark, with little lighting to illuminate them save for the street lights. All of the children on the block were sound asleep in their beds, with perhaps one or two children still up wanting to catch a glimpse at a certain round, jolly man in a red suit. The street lights that dotted the street here and there illuminated the falling snow as it slowly drifted earthward. If one could gaze at the moon – it was being covered by the clouds which continually distributed their seemingly endless supply of snow – it would be seen as a full moon.
No wind rustled up the snow that rested on the lawns of the peoples' houses and the street of the quiet cul-de-sac. The children would be happy for this calm weather. The following day they would be happily playing various winter games in the snow. Last year around Christmas, the weather was not something to write home about as the weather was predicted to be calm, just like this year. However, at the last second (right on Christmas Eve) the weather changed to a raging blizzard that made it dangerous to travel, let alone play in.
But this year would be different. Parties will occur, city events will be planned, and parents working out of town will return home to the happy faces of their children and loved ones.
And so, the children of the neighborhood slumbered and dreamed of the day ahead.
______________________________________________________________________________
Not every kid on the block was asleep, resting for the day ahead. On 1612 Lazarus Circle, a 17-year-old adolescent was still up. The teen's small room was softly lit by an electric lamp and the steady tap-tap-tap of a keyboard sounded through the room. He sat at his desk, aglow by the white light emitted from his computer screen. He only briefly stopped typing to check the time. His alarm clock read ten minutes past two in the morning. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, thinking of what next to put in his essay.
As he was thinking, another thought came forward from the back of his mind. He sighed again as he silently cursed himself for bringing up the thought and his history teacher for giving him such a brutal homework assignment.
'Dammit,' he thought, 'Who gives a five-page essay as homework on the Christmas break?' He just sat there in his chair for a couple seconds, staring at his computer screen, before finally groaning aloud, "Oh man. Why does my teacher enjoy giving out hard homework assignments?"
A knock just then sounded on his door and the teen beckoned the new visitor to enter. The door opened to reveal a man in his mid-forties with brown hair and eyes, a straight nose, and large bags under his eyes. He looked tired, really tired. Almost as if he stayed up all night working. But despite his fatigue, he still made an effort to make a weary smile.
"Good morning Leo," the man said. Leo smiled at that.
"Yeah. Morning to you to Dad."
The teen's father sat down at his bed. Leo noticed he was holding a cardboard box.
"Why are you still up at this hour, Champ?" his father asked.
Leo gestured toward his computer screen, at which point his father realized what he was doing, "Homework? I thought that you didn't have any homework over the break."
"I thought I didn't have homework either," Leo replied. "I just remembered it today. Fortunately, I still have a week left to finish the essay. I'm already on page two and I need to do three more pages."
"Good work Leo," his father said. "What is the topic of your essay?"
Leo leaned back in his chair, ran a hand through his hair, and exhaled a heavy and weary sigh for the second time.
"My damn history teacher assigned us this big project on the American Civil War, starting with this essay." Leo swivelled his chair around to look at his father and asked, "Think you can help me out with this?"
His father shook his head. "Sorry Champ, but history was my weak spot in school. I barely even remember what the teacher taught me." He paused for a few seconds, thinking. "Or...it could be that I didn't pay much attention in class."
Leo rolled his eyes. "Well no wonder that you don't remember anything, Dad," Leo scoffed. "You were probably asleep half the time."
Leo stole another glance at the cardboard box. "Hey Dad, just out of curiosity, but what's in the box?"
"Oh, uh...this you mean?" his father said a little hesitantly.
"Yes Dad, the box your holding. And don't even bother hiding it behind your back," Leo said to his father who was making a slightly comical effort to hide the box from his son's view. "Just because the box is behind your back doesn't mean I don't know its there," his son went on, "That may have worked, if only I was a four-year-old kid. Now spill it!"
"Well, aren't you the demanding one, Leo. I might have to give your Christmas present to someone else."
"Go ahead, Dad. I don't mind. After all, I don't need it, since it is just a present."
His father smiled at that, "Damn. That trick never works on you, does it?"
"No, not really."
"But seriously Dad, what's in the box?"
"Ah, it's...it's nothing son."
"Come on dad. Its not like it's my Christmas present."
A nervous smile played across his father's face. "Funny you should mention that Leo," his father said.
"It is, isn't it?" Leo asked. His father nodded his head with a sheepish smile on his face.
"So you were thinking that you could just slip in here while I was asleep and deliver my present, huh Dad?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Leo sighed and shook his head. "You do this every year, you know that?"
"Sorry Leo. Something I picked up from my dad. He always gave out presents early."
Grinning, Leo said: "Yeah, uh, aren't we supposed to learn from our parents mistakes?"
"It's not really a mistake Leo. Oh wait, I forgot. In your book, that does count as a mistake."
"Yeah, because as I recall, according to Christmas tradition, presents are opened on Christmas Day," Leo argued, emphasizing on the Christmas Day part.
"But Leo, it is Christmas Day. Don't believe me? Then check the time," his father said, gesturing towards Leo's alarm clock.
Leo didn't have to check the time, as he just then remembered the time and thus the key point of the argument: technically, it was Christmas Day. Leo sighed. 'Leo you dumbass.'
"The caffeine has worn out," Leo murmured to himself. His father must have heard him as he then said:
"That may be, seeing as this argument is pointless. After all, I'm giving you a Christmas present early, even though it is technically Christmas."
There was a lengthy pause as Leo just stared, dumbfounded, at his father who had just beat him at his own game and pointed out how pointless, and maybe silly, the situation really was. His father just simply smiled back. Leo finally snapped out of his stupor.
"You know what Dad, you're right. This whole argument is stupid. So I'll stop being so ungrateful and I'll just see what you got me," Leo said, the last sentence being said as he reach for the box.
His father however, pulled the box out of his son's reach and chose to further tease Leo. "Oh no. I can't do that. After all, it'd be against Christmas tradition. So I'll just –"
He never finished his last sentence, as Leo snatched the box from his father with the speed of a rattlesnake. His father sighed, and then chuckled.
"Alright. Go Ahead."
"Thank you."
Leo reached for a drawer in his desk, opened it, and rummaged through the drawer for a few seconds. Upon finding what he was looking for – a utility knife – Leo closed the drawer and turned his attention back to his mystery gift. I wonder what Dad got me? Leo thought as he proceeded to cut open the box.
All the while, Leo's father continued to watch Leo open his gift and, much to his enjoyment, see Leo's expression change from wonderment to complete surprise and delight. Leo practically jumped out of his chair and nearly yelled:
"Holy shit!"
"Watch it," Leo's father said, smiling. "You don't want to wake your mother with that kind of language do you?"
"Sorry," Leo replied sheepishly. "But seriously, do you know how long I've had my eye on this thing?"
"That's why I bought it. I knew you were interested in it."
"Now what I'm wondering is how much it cost you," Leo said.
"A pretty penny, that's for sure. I spent something like seven hundred dollars on that thing."
"I was saving up for this, you know."
"Ah dammit, why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't tell me. And besides, that would ruin the surprise." Leo practically finalized the argument right there.
"How 'bout I give you the money I was saving up?" he offered. His father refused.
"Nah, no need. It's tempting to accept, but it's your money and you earned it yourself."
"Alright, if you insist."
Leo finally removed his gift from the box to examine it – which turned out to be a Desert Eagle pistol. There was also a green ammo box and the gun's magazine in the cardboard box. On the side of the ammo box were the words .50 Action Express.
'Big bullets,' Leo thought, although he already knew this. The smallest bullets the Desert Eagle fired were .357 Magnum bullets and those were already big bullets. Leo momentarily set the gun on his desk and turned his attention to the magazine. He found it to be already loaded with rounds, which was probably the reason why the magazine was removed from the gun. He then started to remove the rounds, counting each one as it was removed, until the magazine was completely empty. He counted a total of seven bullets.
He then turned his attention to the gun. The first thing that came to Leo's mind was which variant of Desert Eagle did he have here. Then he saw the rails on the top and underneath the barrel of the pistol and immediately had his answer. Hm. Looks like a Mark 19, Leo thought. His thoughts were then interrupted by his father who spoke up.
"So..." his father said, smiling. "Are you finished with your little analysis?" he said in a joking manner. Leo smiled in kind and said:
"Yes, I think I've learned all I need to know." Then Leo switched gears and became a bit more serious.
"This is, as you already know, a Desert Eagle pistol – gas operated, semi-automatic. What I've learned is that this particular gun is the Mark 19 variant. I know this because of the rails on the gun, which are used to mount a sighting device – such as a scope – and that the Mark 19 is the only variant that supports this feature. Also, if I recall correctly, the Mark 19 allows for quick barrel replacement so that it can use a different sized bullet. Now, I could be wrong, but all variants allow for barrel change. This particular gun fires the .50 Action Express bullet with a seven round magazine. My conclusion: the firearm is customizable and, due to its semi-auto nature, I can fire seven .50 caliber bullets in rapid succession at the enemy. But due to the fact that the Desert Eagle is not exactly designed for combat, it would be targets I would be shooting – not people."
Leo finished his "lecture" and loaded the empty magazine, cocked the gun and performed a feat that utterly surprised and impressed his father: Leo rapidly twirled the gun on his index finger. What was more impressive was that Leo displayed complete mastery of what he was doing. Not a single mistake was made as Leo continued to twirl what was now a circular blur. Leo then completed a final revolution and aimed at a vacant wall. And then he was motionless, aiming down the pistol's sights, as if he could see a target that only he could see. He seemed to stay that way forever, as if his target was in time itself. Then, finally, click.
His father just stared at him, utterly shocked with awe. Then he laughed, breaking the silence.
"What?" Leo asked, confused. His father just laughed for a few more seconds before calming down and explaining.
"That..." He paused to find the right words. Leo had a feeling where this was heading and noticed, with a tad bit of glee and amusement, the expression on his father's face.
"...whole performance you just did. I have never seen you do something like that before." He laughed again, "Wow. How did you learn how to do that?"
Leo smirked and said: "Practice, patience, persistence, and a lot of bruises and sore fingers and toes," the last part being said with a laugh.
"I can imagine," his father replied.
He broke into a second laughing fit as another thought came to his mind. Leo did not have to ask has father to voice his mind again as his father then said: "Only a gun freak like you would do something like that, and know everything there is to know about this thing," his father laughed.
"You know, I kinda find that a bit offensive. I prefer the more accurate term 'weapons aficionado,'" Leo said. His father chuckled.
"Sorry, aficionado."
Leo playfully made a hurt expression and said: "That doesn't sound very sincere."
His father chuckled again. His energy, however, seemed to have been drained from, as he yawned only a few seconds after his chuckling.
"Yeah well, it is, even if I don't look or sound like it," his father replied. He tried to stifle another yawn but failed.
Leo felt a yawn coming on too, in which he did yawn. "Don't yawn Dad. It's contagious."
"Good. It'll get you to bed. I'm planning on taking you to the firing range tomorrow to test out your new toy, but I can't take you if you're not well rested."
Leo practically gave up anymore resistance he still had in going to sleep right then and there. Leo tried to cheer but was stopped by another yawn surprise attack.
"Alright you win. I'll go to bed," Leo said as he started the process of saving his work and shutting down his computer.
"Good. I'll see you in the morning then," Leo's father got up to leave. But before he reached the door, he paused.
"And by the way Leo..." his father said, turning to him. "That little display you showed me there kinda scared me a little bit," he said with a small grin. "Please don't go running off and shooting people with that thing."
"Come on Dad, what do you take me for, a psychopath?"
His father merely chuckled in reply. "Good night Leo." And with that, his father left for his own room, closing Leo's door behind him.
Leo however, did not go to bed just yet. He canceled the computer's shutdown process and double-checked if he had saved his work. Fortunately, he did. So he started the shutdown process again, only this time letting it complete the process. Leo then turned his attention to his new gun. He removed the magazine and placed the gun in the cardboard box. Then he collected the seven bullets he removed from the magazine and reloaded them one by one until the magazine was full again. He then placed the magazine next to the pistol in the cardboard box and set the box on his desk. Then he turned off the lamp, removed the covers of his bed, and plopped himself down, where he quickly and silently drifted off to sleep.
Now on with the show!