James' eyes twitched. His pulse quickened. This was it. James was included in a gang that was dwarfed by almost all other gangs. The Soviet's massive empire of power was a thing to be feared by most small-timers. But that was all to change. The Deustches were about to attempt to smash their monopoly into tiny pieces. The Soviets had an entire dam and facility under their control. Practically a private army, their obstacles were few. The Soviets had a longstanding alliance with the Distovias, who were smaller, and grew dependent on the Soviets for protection. And the Deustches were damn sick of being in the smaller part of the hustle. They send two of the best combatants they have, to shatter this base. So, here stands James, gun in hand, ready to kill.
The dam stood high in the mountains, rather reclusive and menacing. The walls were tall, and painted a grim grey. James drew in a breath, let it out slowly. Readied his Deustche, and darted out from his cover.
The first guards were caught off-guard, and grabbed their rifles too slowly. A quick burst of automatic fire brought them to the ground. A guard tower stood in the middle of the concrete lot. In it, a sniper notices the nearby firefight. He brings his Soviet to his shoulder, and cannot see his target any longer. Suddenly a bullet whips past his ear, and he turns around. His face was greeted with a barrage of lead. He is thrown backward, and slumps against the rail.
James then sprints toward the tunnel leading to the second guard outpost. The enemy is already dug in, and waiting. Bullets fly by like a breeze, and our man searches for cover. He finds it, behind barrels of Petrol, or Gasoline. James then, hastily, finds another form of protection.
The enemy is firing from inside a pillbox, and James has o run behind it, in order to kill its inhabitants. He sprints from the crates to the barrels, and leaps to the rear of the pillbox. The enemy hasn't caught on yet, and James catches them in the back. He then passes on to the third guard station, where the enemy has been at rest, apparently not hearing the gunfire and screams. There is another sniper post, in which the sniper is shot instantly, and he collapses onto the rail, which then snaps, and he is thrown to the ground with tremendous force.
Our man keeps going to a small building, in which is a Distovia officer, checking over a clipboard. James bursts in, gun pointed. The officer surrenders, dropping his weapon, and raising his arms. A fist slams into his unshaven face, knocking teeth loose.
"Where is the database?"
James was talking about the communication database, which is a hub for the Soviet's telephones, and radios for the entire country. It was actually the second reason for coming here.
"…In the basement. You'll need to attach a comm. To the dish over head then-"
Rat-a-tat-tat.
The Soviet silenced the disloyal underling. James wasted the assassin, and moved out of the shack. Indeed, on the roof was a large satellite dish, and a console on the wall. James attached a bug onto the circuiting of the panel, then set of onto the main part of the Dam.
Three Guard posts stick out, all separated by 400 feet. James enters the nearest one, to mow down the helpless guard inside. Also enclosed was a staircase to the bunker downstairs. In the bunker, lay an enormous amount of Soviet members. All of which were rookies, and killed easily. James proceeded to the Information Hub. There was a lone guard, busy playing Free-cell on one of the seven monitors, when our man rested his barrel on the Soviet's skull. His finger squeezed, and the young man convulsed in recoil, then crumpled onto the keyboard.
James then tapped into the database, and went back upstairs. In doing this, the Deustches were able to listen to all, even the most protected, conversations.
James then attached his bungee cord to a rail, tightened it, and jumped off the side.
Yahoo.