A/N: I do not own Highschool of the DEAD

DEAD Silence

Act I: Mercenaries of the DEAD.

Three years before Z-Day.

Somewhere in Afghanistan.

A trio of UH-60 Blackhawks begin landing at a small base at the break of dawn, its' crewmen taking care even in the safety of friendly territory. A lone figure in fatigues steps out of a tent, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. As the rotors of the helicopters slowly come to a stop, the passengers within begin to exit and gather while the rest of the FOB stirs to life.

The figure walks up to the gathering of men and women, some of whom are armed and greets them, "Welcome to FOB Hope. Where's the Team Leader?"

"Here!" shouts someone from the back of the group. A man in his mid-thirties steps forward. The two stare at each other for a while before they break out into grins and begin hugging one another. "It's good to see you after all this time Julius."

"Good to see you again Fred. I trust Argentina was good?" asked Julius.

"It was ok. Lost Otis and Dana but we nailed the group the CIA and Interpol were after."

"Ah. Sorry to hear that. At least they died doing what they enjoyed and a time of their choice."

"Yeah. Just…it's always…you know?"

"I understand. C'mon, let's get you and team inside. It's going to be a long six months for you out here."

ooooo

Two years before Z-Day.

Seraph International Main Headquarters, London.

Fredrick Sole stands at five-foot-ten, weighs around seventy kilos and is in his mid-thirties. He has been shot a total of ten times on four separate occasions and still is alive to tell the tale. He has been cross-trained with some of the best Special Forces in the world.

As a teen, he attained the third highest belt in the three martial arts of his choice, was the high school football hero, obtained good grades and had exceptional social skills. He spent his summers like every other teen as well as learning new languages and cultures and helping out the local charities.

He joined the Armed Forces just to prove his parents wrong. He was a Lieutenant before signing off with the Army and later joined a PMC. In both, he was respected. He is confident. He is still in his prime. He is still fit as a fiddle.

Yet, he sits in the metal foldable chair feeling nervous and ever so impatient. Across him, five individuals in business suits sit in practical chairs behind a long wooden table in silence. The sound of paper being shuffled to and fro between the five drives Fred a little nuts but not enough to make him say anything.

Finally, the silence is broken. "Mr Sole. My colleagues and I are here today to pass the Board's decision. May I remind you, we have delayed this for six months just to wait for you to recover fully from the injuries you received. Keep this in mind; you are deemed an extremely valuable asset to us. However, the incident in which has brought us to this little meeting cannot be overlooked. So, we are going to give you two choices.

You first choice is to pay for the damages and loss of valuable assets which, may I inform you, are exceptionally high. You second choice is to accept the assignment I have here in my hand. Either way, you are not going to get off easily."

Fred sits in silence as the suit speaks. He processes everything the suit has said. And he comes to a conclusion. Things don't add up.

"Why is the Board offering me another job after I basically fuck up the last one? I can understand paying but not the job."

"It's simple Mr Sole. Someone up top likes you and this is an assignment all of the other Team Leaders have turned down. My advice? Looking at your record, the assignment is the lesser of two evils. Even if you found a way to pay, the board will find a way to get to you. So, take the assignment."

Fred contemplates what the suit says. "Where's the OA of the assignment?"

"I assume you're going to take it then?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really. Claire, do mention Mr Sole accepted the assignment. Thank you love."

"Again, where's the OA?"

"China, Mr Sole. China," the suit replies with a smirk.

ooooo

Z-Day.

Serpah International private docks, Shanghai.

A convoy of black SUVs and military trucks pull up into the empty loading bay of the private docks. A trio of warships can be seen just over the sunset horizon. The docks are soon a bustle of activity as the desire for safety aboard the warships drives them.

Fred jumps out one of the trucks and motions for his entire team to assemble around him. He looks at the tired and grimy faces of his team. His second-in-command, Katy Miller looks at him and tilts her head to motion she wants to speak to him in a minute or two.

"Take a knee ladies and gents. I'm going to make this quick. Priority is to get the non-combatant VIPs and staff off these docks and onto the Strike. The Dagger, Blitz and Blast are twelve klicks out and will stop once they're a klick out. RIBs and Seahawks will be deployed and used to ferry everyone out of this hell hole. Depending on the number of trips it's gonna take, we're to hold out till then.

Now, I know the situation we are in is unbelievable but it's happening. Our assignment is to keep these people safe and we are not failing it. Shield Five formation, weapons free. Report anything on the comms and I mean anything immediately then only start shooting. Let's get this done team. Are we going to fail?"

"Fuck no!" replied the entire team and dispersed. Everyone except Katy.

"Problem Katy?"

"Well Fred. We had to abandon our Regional HQ, lost almost all our Primaries and half of the Secondaries. We're low on ammo, running on last night's dinner fumes and pretty shell-shocked about the situation we're in. Nope. Not a single fucking problem Fred."

"Look. I know this isn't a normal cluster fuck but we're in it now. Yes, we're pretty much what you said we are but so as long as the orders stand, we get whatever that is left of our Primaries and Secondaries outta here. And then let's get the hell out of dodge eh?" Fred, grinning like an idiot, sticks out little finger for a pinky promise.

"Right boss," answers a smiling Katy, linking her little finger and sealing the deal. "I'm going to hold you to this."

His earpiece crackles to life with one of his team members saying, "Contact left! Opening fire!"

The sounds of gunfire could be heard to the left of Fred. He knew his team were professionals in every way but he said it anyways, "Everyone stay frosty! It's gonna be a long night!"

A/N: I just couldn't help myself! Seeing so many FF, I decided to give it a try. It's been an idea bouncing around my head for a while. Please leave a review.