Archer is my name. My old life? It no longer exists. It was stolen by the RAF and then the Task Force. It had happened… so fast.

America had been assisting the UK with a bit of a problem. The OpFor? Russia and her new-found ally, Germany. The first problem had occurred when a Russian plane was spotted over restricted United Kingdom airspace. We brought her down somewhere near an air force base named Blerten, and the pilot looked nervous.

When asked, he simply said that this was a routine training run for a new prototype of fighter jet, and he was supposed to fly a few more miles south before returning to base. Upon closer inspection, however, this jet was a stealth fighter that had made a malfunction. The Sukhoi T-230 had some kind of special coating that made it invisible to radar and used mirrors to refract light.

One of the mirrors had broken and crashed the entire system. We had seen it. Precisely three hours after the base had made her land, it was assaulted. Russian commandos had come in on motorcycles and helicopters. I was on that base.

Year: Unknown

Month: March

Day: 12

Location: Blerten AFB

SitRep: Helicopter blades are heard over the air force base. Not wanting to cause unnecessary trouble, the staff simply wave the helicopters down and attempt to communicate. However, a continuous stream of white noise comes from the radio. Special Operative Ray Giles, call sign Archer, is on base. He is a sniper and explosives specialist. After taking a position on the roof, he turns on his headset and waits for an order…

I settled into a prone position and surveyed the area. I was atop the roof of a comms building, flat and rectangular. The edges of the roof are raised about three inches up, as if it was lined by bricks. It was a perfect position for a M14 EBR with a 3-9x50 Millimeter dot scope. Mine. I could clearly see the four helicopters moving in and could see the ten motorcycles moving down the road. Not an army, but a significant force, with fifteen soldiers per chopper and two per motorcycle. That's eighty in all… a Russian team using guerilla tactics.

I clicked the small headset attached to my ear, allowing me to receive any radio signals beamed my way. I sighed, looking at the helicopters and motorcycles approaching. It had all started with a stealth jet… trying to get some intel on us? I don't know, and I don't think I ever will.

"Oh, shit," I mumbled, glaring through my scope at the soldiers armed with what looked like Kedr PP-91 submachine guns with red dot sights attached beginning to rappel out of the choppers. I also saw the soldiers on the bikes pull Klin PP-9 submachine guns off of their backs and aim, one hand on the wheel and one on the weapon.

Tapping my headset once more, I asked, "Sir, what the hell is happening down there? Permission to open fire?"

I heard the General on base mutter, "Uh, that is an affirmative. Russian black ops teams are moving on our location, provide sniper support and disable mobile units, over."

"Yes, sir, should I work on helicopter pilots or motorcycles?"

"Engage the pilots first, Archer, and haul ass to do it. Try to take them out before the soldiers can finish dropping. Multiple casualties can be attained. Over and out."

I clicked off my headset and took a deep breath, steadying myself. Pressing my cheek to the stock of my rifle, I aimed through the cockpit of the nearest chopper, which had come to a stop in order to drop troops. I prayed that the bullet would be able to penetrate the glass, and realized that my silencer wasn't on. That gives me a better chance, at least. Along with the FMJ.

My finger squeezed the trigger as I slowly released my breath. The bullet took exactly nine-tenths of a second to travel to the windshield… and through the windshield to the pilot's head. He fell to the left and didn't release his grip on the stick, bringing the entire chopper spiraling to the lower-left. Two soldiers had made it out, and fifteen had been killed, including the pilot and co-pilot.

"Chyort! Sniper!" I heard from the ground. Grasping my weapon by the barrel, I rolled away from the edge, to where only the choppers could see me. I reached around to my back and removed a China Lake from a holster.

"Come on, Amy," I whispered. Yes, I named my cold war era weapon Amy. Aiming it carefully at the helicopter on the edge of the group, I saw that I had lost some time. This chopper had five men on the ground with the other ten on the ropes. "Shite," I mumbled, firing the grenade at the center of the helicopter. Direct hit! It went straight down and rained debris upon the Russians. Body count: thirty-two killed, by me alone. More by the others. An explosion rocked a nearby hangar… the one we were keeping the prototype in!

"Sir, the Russians have destroyed the prototype! The bikes are pulling out and the two helicopters have picked up the troops. They're preparing for dustoff. What do you advise?" As I spoke, I crawled back to the edge and frowned at the troops running into the now grounded choppers.

"Archer, forget the Russians. We killed just over half of them… thanks to you, mostly. Our ground troops were pretty useless, and we lost ten men. Still, they weren't sent to kill, but instead to destroy the Sukhoi. They achieved that goal, and there's no way to change that. I need you to come down to the command bunker. We have one General Shepherd waiting to talk to you. Over and out."

Hm. I'd heard whispers of the General. He was making some kind of task force or something… hm. Don't get too excited, Giles, I told myself. If he asks you to join the TaskForce, say yes… you know you want to.

I climbed down the ladder and looked at the retreating helicopters. We may have lost this one, but we had definitely done our fair share of winning.

Author's annotation (Because I can't just say note XD) So, what did you think? Not much is known about Archer, considering he only appears in one level and may or may not be KIA. Anyway, please review. Oh, and snipers are BOMB. Just wanted to point that out.