Ghost Recon: The Fall of an Era
Prologue
"Ray! Get up! We need to move!"
Pushing himself off the ground he shook his head before looking around realizing that he was surrounded by the flaming remnants of what was once his transport truck. His close friend and ally helped him to his feet, "John what happened?" Before he could get a response a loud snap caught his attention, almost tripping over his own feet he cried "Sniper!" The two men sprinted to a nearby bolder. Scanning their surrounding he spoke between breaths, "Where did the shot come from?"
"I don't know; just keep your head down." John grabbed the radio upon his belt, "This is Alpha Actual; our convoy has been ambushed and is taking sniper fire. Heavy casualties." The radio returned nothing but static. "Piece of junk!" Throwing the radio to the side he gripped his M9 pistol. "Well that was my plan, any ideas?"
Wiping sweat from his brow he shook his head, "That sniper will take us out if we try to make a break for it." Hearing the sound of gravel shifting to his left he snapped his attention to the source of the noise only to be greeted by the stock of an AK-47.
Ray was rudely awaken by a bucket of cold water being splashed into his face. He cringed upon opening his eyes as a duo of flood lights met his gaze. He attempted to shield his eyes from the light but to his surprise his arms were tied behind him to the metal chair he sat in. "Where am I?"
Another fist soared through the air and connected with his left cheek. "You will speak when told to. Where was your convoy headed?"
Spitting blood he chuckled as he spoke "Kiss my ass."
"Wrong answer!" Another fist connected with the right side of his jaw. "Where were you heading?"
Spitting once more, "Over the hill to pay your mom a visit."
A sharp pain shot through Ray's left bicep as the blade of combat knife cut into it. "You would be smart to start telling me what I want to hear."
The flood light cut off and revealed to him that he was not the only prisoner in the room. To his dismal he spotted John tied to metal pipes along the wall and his mouth covered by a thick cloth. "John!"
A male bent over and picked up a metal fuel canister. "Either you start telling me what or this will be the last time you see your friend." The male unscrewed the lid and covered John with the contents.
"What does it matter to you?"
"Funny thing about oil, everyone wants it and here I am wasting it." Tossing the canister across the room he removed a small box of matches from his pocket.
"We were delivering the cargo to a refugee camp south of Baghdad."
Pulling a match from the box and striking it the male smiled evilly, "Thank you for your cooperation." Turning to exit the room he tossed the lit match igniting the oil, the flames engulfing John quickly. As he exited the room the male spoke one more time, "I'll let you go free since you were polite enough to disclose this information." After nodding to a man behind Ray he shut the door.
The image of John struggling against his restraints as he screamed in pain burned into Ray's brain. Behind him he heard two consecutive clicks followed by a loud bang that rang throughout the room. He drooped in his chair as his own blood spilled through the fresh hole in his forehead.
