My name is Kevin White. I am one of the elite soldiers codenamed: Spectre. We are all highly trained in the ways of stealth, marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, and battle tactics. I was with the Black Ops Unit of the CIA for 8 years before I left. What I mean by this is that I deserted. After 8 years on a soldier's salary, I was not exactly wealthy, but I couldn't complain. Well, couldn't and shouldn't are two very different things. I did complain. Quietly, only to myself, but I did complain. I knew that I wasn't going to be discharged any time soon, so I decided that I would get out of there and make some real money.
I grabbed my trusty sniper rifle, the SVG-100, and my handguns, dual MR6's. I holstered them and buckled the Sniper rifle onto my back before grabbing my duffel, which was filled with various nano chip upgrades, weapon mods, and grenades. For the first time in 8 years, I was nervous. I knew that if I was caught, I would die. I started towards the door out of the barracks. All of a sudden, one of the other Spectres entered.
"Hey, where are ya going?" He asked.
"Just heading out to the simhouse," I responded, my voice shaking ever so slightly.
He rotated his head less than three degrees, but I could practically see the disbelief in his helmet-covered head.
"Alright," He responded hesitatingly. At that instant, I realized the flaw in my lie. Normally one would put a truth into the lie to make it more believable, and I did. I had my weapons, which would imply I am going to somewhere that required weapons, but the simhouse used simulated weapons. I leaped to the right as he whipped out a pistol and fired off one shot. I ducked and rolled as he fired off one more shot where my head had just been and jumped towards him, triggering my twin reaper blades as I outstretched my right arm towards him. The blue energy crackled into existence, plunging into his abdomen. I quickly retracted the blades and grabbed my duffel. His pistol, an RK5, was suppressed, so I hoped no one had heard the noise.
I slowly walked outside into the sunlight. I switched my HUD into combat mode, and my motion sensor went crazy. It said that a friendly was rapidly approaching me. I whipped around quickly as another Spectre lunged towards me, reapers out front. I jumped back, pulling out my dual MR6's and firing 2 shots at him. He dodged them and lunged at me again. This time I dropped my right pistol and triggered my right blade. Quickly parrying his overhead strike, I kneed him in the gut and put my left pistol to his skull and pulled the trigger. He collapsed to the ground in a pool of gore, his cracked helmet revealing his wide-eyed corpse. I crouched down to pick up my pistol and holstered them both. I strapped the duffel to my back, repositioning my SVG for easier access.
I took off at a sprint to the hangar. My HUD flashed and I jerked to the right, an RAR round digging into the ground where I had just left. I quickly activated my cloaking technology, understanding that it would not protect me from thermal scopes. Dodging bullets, I made my way to the hangar, put a bullet in the two guards, and connected my cybernetics to the garage door. I ran a brute force hacking protocol which quickly found the password, opening the giant door. I quickly activated the door on one of the VTOL jets and jumped in. I ran up and slid into the cockpit, flipping the ignition switch, checking the fuel gauge, stabilizer conditions, and looked towards the exit. It would be difficult to pilot it out of the garage without a co-pilot, but I wasn't part of the elites for nothing. I activated the vertical take-off protocol and manually directed the vertical jets slightly towards the hangar opening. I saw a platoon of soldiers run in and begin shooting, so I activated the MG on the jet and blew them away. The engine roared to life and the jets flared, slowly floating into the air and towards the exit. I gave them a moment to warm up, and flipped into fighter mode. The jets turned horizontal and I pushed forward on the throttle, simultaneously yanking back on the control stick. My jet rocketed towards the exit and out into the open sky. I heard the beeping of a warning alarm and activated evasive thrusters as a missile screeched past me. I dove towards the ground before pulling out of the dive, staying close the ground in order to prevent any more lock-on missiles. I set a course for a city I knew well: Chicago.