The Dawn of the GLA

"I'll make the sacrifice!" Ahmed yelled as he emerged out of the tunnel network. Straight in the heart of Europe. A land paralyzed by its own laws, disarming citizens and preventing them from defending themselves.

Ahmed held his hands high as he ran, proudly displaying his string of dynamite wrapping his body. Yet the innocuous passersby watched the mighty turban. The bombs looked so grotesque they didn't interest them. Crime concealed by audacity.

But for Ahmed it was no crime. It was the dawn of a new age. The downfall of the infidels across the globe.

The shopping centre was within range. Ahmed's sure leaps brought him closer to it and nobody stopped him. Filthy dogs were too fooled by their decay they didn't react, possessed by their vain indulgence.

So when Ahmed exploded in the middle of the building, it came as a great shock. The structure collapsed like a house of cards, burying hundreds of hapless victims beneath ash and rubble.

Few survivors finally recollected from their blissful ignorance. They screamed in terror. Fled. Some even called the police. The completely incompetent and corrupt force which was swift only when giving speeding tickets to citizens for exceeding the limit by a notch. No wonder they sit back and relaxed, taking their time before driving out to investigate.

It allowed the GLA cell to move comfortably into their new area. First to raze the unnecessary constructions. Ahmed's childhood friends emerged from the tunnel. Flooded the perimeter. "I'll make the sacrifice!" they shouted as they targeted the decrepit houses dotting the city.

Explosions flashed across the town as the historical core succumbed to terrorist attacks. Without response from the state.

Next to arrive were the workers. "Okay, okay! I will work!" one of them spoke, pushed out of the hole in the road by a rebel. He nearly tripped, tottering as he regained balance. They were poorly dressed, shoeless men exploited to the brink of severe backaches. However, they had a reason to labour. The fear of punishment. So they set to do their jobs immediately, equipped with nothing but heavy hammers. It was pure magic. They banged their oversized tools on the ground and structures simply started rising from it.

The goal was clear. Transform the ruins into a bastion of the GLA. It was a perfect place for them. Shielded by civilian buildings and a river encircling their position.

Stinger sites were built. A command centre as well. Then the barracks to produce more Ahmeds. Within an instant, the sweet symphony of I'll make the sacrifice filled the air as a deluge of suicide bombers began pouring out.

An arms dealer followed. Reinforcements were necessary to keep the location defended. Vehicles drove out of there as if there was an assembly line. Scorpion tanks, quad cannons, technicians and much more.

By that time, the police finished their doughnuts and hauled their rears to the city. No unusual thing so far, they surmised as they were approaching the bridges leading to the heart of the town. The urban realm looked dead since the people had barricaded themselves in their homes, but that didn't make them worry.

A fatal mistake on their part, because the GLA was using a GPS scrambler. An ingenious instrument. A bit of magic probably, because GPS was essentially a set of satellites. In no way could making them blind also turn GLA troops invisible to the naked eye. Yet setting this discrepancy aside, the police forces were in for a big surprise. Armed with wheel clamps and ticket paper, thinking they could harass a few civilians along the path, they pictured just their payroll and bonuses.

A high-pitched beep echoed. A barrel appeared right among three police vehicles driving in tandem. They didn't notice though. The roaring engines drowned out the sound.

Boom. They were no more.

Of course, the law enforcers weren't entirely stupid. They wouldn't send only a single group of lackeys when it came to handing out fines for parking. No. A whole army of them was closing in to the place.

One unit stumbled upon a black sedan sitting in the middle of the road. The policeman rejoiced, his mind filling with commendations for a job well done. Yet the sedan dashed towards him. So he switched on the sirens and the blue flashing light atop the roof. Every obedient citizen would fold at the sight, surrender and pay. Yet the policeman failed to realize the error of his judgement. His victim wasn't a simple and obedient citizen. In truth, it wasn't a victim at all.

The car sped up. Darted directly to the policeman, who understood the horror. He stared at it, brain struck by fright and paralyzed. His hands suddenly felt heavy. The wheel became refractory along with the pedals as his feet clumsily danced on them. Before he could have turned and fled, the sedan crashed straight into him.

In the fleeting moment prior to detonation, the policeman heard a shout, "I will die for our cause!"

A squad of police vehicles on the opposite side of the city didn't encounter any trouble so far. They approached a bridge leading to the depths of the town. Then the ambush began. Scorpion tanks emerged out of nowhere, moving over cars like a steamroller over paper, flattening the police.

The rest of the law enforcement met a similar fate. Shot down by rocket buggies, running into booby traps, destroyed by stinger sites or other GLA units.

Finally, the emergency system of the state recognized the threat. It required immediate action. The great European machine was waking up from its slumber like a titan. An inept bureaucratic titan. It had to obtain a permission from the European Commission. A lengthy debate had to be held in Brussels, but first it had to be assembled. Which would take time.

So the GLA was free to act as it saw fit. Its unrestrained expansion started.

A terrorist paced out of the barracks of the GLA. "They will fear us," he stated ominously. And he was correct. They indeed would. Europe would fall if it didn't react soon. Because there was a SCUD storm being built.