***Hey guys, I'm starting a short story based on one of my Division characters. Feel free to comment and leave some constructive criticism. I'll be posting more chapters as the days go on, expect 5 chapters out of this. Thank you for reading!***
Prologue:
New York City,
4 Days after the Darkzone fell,
1837,
V looked around the empty room, although not quite a cell, it was devoid of any comforts or luxuries. He was clearly being held as a prisoner, something he found entirely hilarious. His skin olive colored skin concealed by a set of tattered blue jeans, with numerous blood stains and a bandage on his right thigh. His grey and white checkered shirt now was a mix of brown and red, as dirt and blood was splattered in random patterns, although none of it seemed to be coming from a sustained wound.
It was a cold afternoon, although not entirely cold, he missed the permanent summer from the Caribbean where he used to call home many years past. As the light started to dim from the small window, his thoughts began to wander as to how he ultimately ended being held by his own people and if he would ever make it out of this room.
Chapter 1: Talon 5
New York City,
One day after the Dark Zone fell.
2232,
"Archangel, this is Talon 5, how copy?"
-"Loud and clear, go for Archangel"
"Got vehicles coming from the east, looks like 2…3 sets of headlights. We expecting friends tonight?" His voice had a slight Hispanic accent although not easily recognizable.
-"Nothing on the radio, display is still sketchy. Probably a patrol returning from the wall." There was an air of arrogance in Archangel's voice, as if dismissing them as nothing more than a nuisance.
"I don't like it… we should've heard something." Whispered the voice into his radio, crouching lower next to the broken doors of an electronics shop. Looking outside across the road lightly powdered in snow where a half dozen vehicles were frozen in place. The winds were beginning to pick up, slowly blurring the view of the incoming vehicles.
-"These guys aren't the most organized bunch since they got their asses kicked from the Dark Zone." The same arrogant tone in his voice carried clearly through the radio over the increasing winds.
"You mean we got our asses kicked in the dark zone." Said the agent, he felt his hand start to squeeze the pistol grip of his rifle slowly, anger starting to boil.
-"Shut it V… We've all heard enough of that. Shit happens, people die and decisions were made… it's the world we live in. Just keep an eye on these guys and it'll be fine. Archangel out."
"…Copy." Was all that V could reply, his words grunted between his clenched teeth. He felt his body temperature rise as the anger in him kept rising.
The Dark Zone, as they called it now, had been a massacre. A testament to the incompetence of their superiors. The supply points for the National Guard and food distribution centers had all been overrun by rioters, sick and desperate citizens of New York City. From their over watch point, they had witnessed the mob penetrate the defensive perimeter, and instead of responding to their cries, they were ordered to retreat or be sealed in with the rest of looters.
V had made his opinion of the order loud and clear, but they all still headed for the wall checkpoint. With gunshots and explosions at their back, he wondered what kind of horrors awaited those unlucky enough to survive the onslaught. It made him sick, the thought of leaving his brothers behind. He didn't know them, that's just the way the all operated, but knowing they were part of The Division, was enough to warrant an attempt at rescue. A Marine at heart, he would've never abandoned them.
"Hey V… If they were bad guys, they wouldn't be coming straight for us with their headlights on would they? Probably going home from the bar." Said V's partner, Hopper. A young African-American who served in the Army as a Ranger before separating and joining The Division. As far as V could tell, Hopper never truly took anything seriously, always laughing or smiling at their predicament over the past couple of days. He was crouched to V's right, looking out the window at their current objective.
Ever since exiting the Dark Zone, the team had been under heavy fire and were in dire need of resupply. Spotting the JTF check point was a godsend, they had been navigating the back alleys trying to avoid enemy contact as they approached, now only across the street from their target before V had spotted the incoming vehicles.
"I still don't like this…" Said V as he looked thru his ACOG, vehicles slowly coming into view…