Disclaimer: I do not own the Undertaker or any of the characters in this story. They are all the property of WWE, Vince McMahon, and themselves.
2:00 AM, unknown area
The snow had reached near-blinding levels, making it difficult for a normal man to traverse the terrain; however, it did not seem to hinder Mark Calaway. The man codenamed The Undertaker had operated in worse, and this was nothing to him. He moved through the snowstorm with ease, his sight unimpaired despite the blizzard. The Undertaker moved through snowdrift, stopping every so often to make sure he was not being followed, or to get to higher ground in the trees or the hills that separated him from his objective. He had not sighted the building yet, but he knew he was close. The mission briefing had not specified exactly where the building was located, but he taken a good survey of the area during on the helicopter on the way, and he had a good idea of where he was going and how long it would take him to get there. The Undertaker had yet to kind with an efficient plan, due largely in part to the sketchy info and incomplete briefing he and his team had received, but the Undertaker felt confident that once he reached the building, he would be able to figure out what to do. After all, the Undertaker was efficient at coming up with plans on the spot, that was why he was the most valuable member of the WWE team. Well, that, and the dark powers he had at his possession; powers that allowed him to get into any building, powers that allowed him to defeat any enemy, powers that rendered him immortal, unable to be killed by anyone or anything. The Undertaker thought about all the injuries and deaths that had happened to him over the years, and yet he was, alive and breathing, so to speak. A noise alerted the Undertaker mid-thought, and he quickly go to cover. He was just in time to evade the notice of the patrol guard that walked past his position, oblivious to the WWE agent in his vicinity. The guard walked past, and the Undertaker waited for the sound of his footsteps to disappear before coming out of his hiding place and continuing on. The Undertaker could have killed the guard as he walked past, but that may have raised an alarm, had the guard taken notice of him, or another guard happened to come by. Besides, the Undertaker didn't have the time. He had a building to reach, and a hostage to liberate; and he had almost reached his objective. He could tell.
Captain Kurt Angle sat in the truck, sipping coffee, tapping his fingers on the nearby computer impatiently. After a while, he broke the tense silence in the truck. "How long had it been?" he asked, for perhaps the tenth time. Rolling her eyes for the tenth time, Trish Stratus replied "Would you please be patient? In case you haven't noticed, asking that question every five minutes is not going to make this go faster. The Undertaker's methodical, you know that. He's careful, and he's probably going to need some time." "We don't time! Weren't you paying attention to the briefing? There's a renegade group of terrorists who have a very important doctor held hostage, and Lord knows for what purpose! They may not need him anymore! He could be dead right now for all we know!" Captain Angle shouted, his frustration clear to the entire team. "Then giving 'Taker the time he needs shouldn't be a problem for you" Trish said, matter-of-factly. But Angle was not listening anymore. He had reached for the comm-link, and was about to demand an update from his operative when Trish stopped him. "Don't!" she yelled. "You could be giving away his position! He could be in a delicate…", but she was unable to finish, as Angle swatted her hand away and barked into the comm.
"Undertaker, report in! Now!" the voice over the Undertaker's comm.-link blared in his ear. "Dammit" the Undertaker swore. He could have sworn he had told his "captain" that he needed radio silence, but no; Angle just couldn't wait, could he? Now his irritating impatience had tipped off the guards, who looked up at the Undertaker, perched on the roof of the building where his objective was being held hostage, surveying the scene and trying to come up with a strategy. Now, he had to go to plan B, and the Undertaker hated plan B. But he had no choice, as the guards alerted the rest of their patrol, and opened fire on the Undertaker.