The explosions, the friendly fire, death in general has always excited Russ Webb. That's why he signed up for the Marines. The Vietnam war was his chance to kill some damned Vietcong. But his first kill wasn't as he predicted. It was an ordinary day for Platoon 11. They were on their daily scouting mission, and all was well... but not for long. Russ was somewhere in the middle of the Platoon; there was about a seven foot distance from each soldier. Russ was just about to pick up his pace to catch up with a friend, Piewman, when it happened. Russ felt a sharp pinch in the back of his neck. Before he knew it, he was charging his best friend, his knife out. Russ slammed into Piewman, and they both fell to the ground. Russ, out of his mind, stabbed his friend seven times before he was hit in the back of the head with a rifle's stock. Russ didn't pass out. He layed still, listening to his comrades, "Damn! What the fuck! Piewman, stay with me!" But it was too late, Piewman was dead. Russ's first kill. Seconds later, four hooded, heavily armed men came out of the bushes, thier LMG's blazing. Russ couldn't move as his Platoon was slaughtered. As the four tangos approached Russ's stiff body, one said, "Wow, those berzerk darts work really well." Russ then realized he was shot by a toxin-that's what the sudden pinch in his neck was. Anouther answered, "Of course, the native Vietcong made it theirselves." Russ noticed one of the men pull a pistol out and pointed it at Russ's head and said in a british tonem "Let's kill the bloody American." But before he pulled the trigger, three more men came out of the shaddows. They wore hooded gillie suits and carried small pistols and machettes. "STOP!" One of the newcomers roared. Russ's captives jumped in surprise, and turned to face the camoflagued men. One of Russ's captors cursed, "Shit! Assassins! Let's take em out boys!" And the fight between Templars and Assassins began right in front of Russ's blury eyes.