Prologue
Hans Grunfeld's final request before he was to be taken away, was to say goodbye to his friends. A reasonable request, the guards thought. Grunfeld was to be taken away and killed by lethal injection for crimes against humanity and for trying to bring about another reign of Nazism. For his many crimes, he was sentenced to 344 years in jail, having received multiple life sentences. The current German government knew he was far too dangerous to be kept in a maximum security prison for life, so they locked Grunfeld on Death Row. Grunfeld had been in Death Row for 6 months, and now he was finally being executed, but not before his final request.
Under the careful watch of many civilian-dressed guards with Uzi-sized bulges in their conspicuous trench coats, Grunfeld made his way to the closest pub to have his final drink amongst friends. As Grunfeld entered the Roaring Bull Pub, the guards followed promptly, surveying their surroundings as they did so. Grunfeld sat down at a table with about 12 or so important looking senior officers from the German Army. One of the guards, Jacob Christian commented to his partner, Konrad Yokovich in German.
'That man has got some friends in high places'
'Ya,' replied Yokovich, 'That he has.'
The guards silently observed the rapid low voices of the conversing soldiers, under the pretence of drinking surlily. After a couple of hours, the guards started to feel drowsy and Christian beckoned to Grunfeld wearily.
'Convict!' whispered Christian gruffly, 'It is time to return to your cell, where you will be taken away to be executed. Come along now.'
Grunfeld nodded glumly and followed the guards along the deserted town road, lit by the full moon. As the troop of guards and their prisoner made their way toward the armoured truck, none of them noticed the black silent shapes creeping up behind them. None of them noticed the black silent shapes drawing daggers and silenced Heckler & Koch Mark 23 Socom pistols. Only when the silent assassins were about to strike, did Yokovich turn around at the rustling of a cloak. He yelled at the sight of a dozen black figures with weapons drawn. The other guards whirled around, pulling out their Uzi sub-machine guns-
Ping! Ping! Ping!
The silenced pistols barely made a sound as they fired home into the guards' skulls before they even had time to unleash a withering barrage with their Uzis. Yokovich lay in the gutter, bloody dribbling down his chin. Yokovich had dived just in time to earn him a slower and more painful death. Yokovich had a bullet to his gut. His stomach acids would eventually make its way to his lungs, and then he'd be a goner. He looked up to see his assailers step over the bodies of his fallen comrades and then he felt himself break out in a cold sweat. Grunfeld was not dead. Grunfeld was chatting to his allies like…friends. The soldiers at the bar! Why didn't Yokovich see it sooner? As the soldiers made off with Grunfeld, Yokovich weakly reached for his belt and unclasped his radio with great effort.
'Ya…Control…,' grunted Yokovich weakly, 'We do not have long…the prisoner has escaped…I repeat-'
Yokovich could not finish his sentence, as suddenly, he felt cold metal against the back of his head. Yokovich gulped and continued talking into the radio
'-The prisoner has escap-'
Ping! Yokovich's urgent message was halted by the silenced Mark 23 Socom pistol's bullet entering his brain. The assassin smiled in the dim light and disappeared into shadow into the night.
Ten hours later, Captain Lachlan Chambers received an urgent message concerning global security from the Pentagon.