Operation Scarlet Strike Part 1: There is no easy mode.

Chapter 1

"White Rabbit"

Saigon Outskirts, Vietnam, November 1968

The sun beat down on the crowded city of Saigon that day. The Winter season had just settled in, but the temperature wouldn't exactly drop for another month or two. The cold was never an issue in November.

Every street, all the way to the edge of town, was bustling with overflowing crowds of people from all corners of the country. Refugees, soldiers, old French cars and wagons all flooded the street with a great energy and noise. The banter from merchants and arguing farmers carrying out their wares was deafening.

On the outskirts, in a poor and rundown part of the city, there stood an old apartment that nobody seemed to know or care about. The air stunk from the garbage that littered a nearby alleyway.

Roy woke up in an old wicker chair with a thin blanket wrapped around his neck and shoulders, his back was sore from the odd position he slept in. The Chair had left an imprint of its corded frame on his arms as he lifted himself steadily to his feet.

He was a rather scruffy individual for a 24 year old Captain, this tended to get him heat whenever he was in the presence of more decorated officers. He shared his quarters with a younger Lieutenant, who tended to take advantage of the nightlife of the old city beneath the Army's nose. Last night the young LT had brought in a young, blossoming, Vietnamese, pillow princess, which forced Roy to discover his bedroom was now a bouncy castle occupied by laughter and grunts of perversion. Roy didn't bother to express his words with the young lieutenant, but would later regret his decision to sleep in the chair that night.

With a steady hand, he opened his bedroom door. The Lieutenant was sprawled out on the bed, nothing more than thin white sheets layered over himself and his exclusive guest. He snored softly through a moist pair of panties while the woman lay quietly unstirred by his side. Roy cringed as he slowly closed the door.

There was nothing spectacular to look at in the apartment, nothing but blank plaster walls, bamboo furniture and old crusty windows that barely kept the sound of the street quiet enough to relax. In the middle of the room was a coffee table collecting dust, cigarettes, and newspapers from local press. Above an old fan whirled around at the speed of a snail.

He walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a room temperature cup of tea. The cup had a thin layer of dust that floated to the top of the drink. Out of disgust, He threw the continents of the cup into a nearby plant. A boring, old, tropical fern that somehow meant something to his fellow lieutenant.

Pondering for something nutritious that his roommate would not care to miss, Roy opened up the fridge and began searching for something to steady his appetite. Assorted fruits, rations, a basket of local eggs, two six packs of beer and` a few bottles of wine left over from the hopelessly drunken discussions of the NVA and Agent Orange many nights ago.

Roy grabbed a few eggs from the basket and a beer to put himself at ease while he set a skillet upon the stove in the corner. He checked his watch as to see if he was in violation of having alcohol before noon.

"11:58...fuck, go faster I got a run to do." Roy said quietly to the watch on his hand.

It was nothing more than an old gold watch, riddled with carvings and numerals from the times when his grandfather was a boy younger than himself.

"Well, I'll wait two minutes..." Roy said as he turned his attention to the stove.

He cracked the eggs into the hot pan and walked over to the table by the window. The sizzle gave off a white noise over the screaming street outside his window. He put the beer down on the table and not a second later a loud clack came from the wristwatch on his hand. He turned his wrist over. The watch had stopped cold at 11:59 with one second before it hit the 12.

Roy tapped the watch face, the ticking continued but the speed of the second hand was down to a half, Roy took the watch off his wrist and dropped it on the table thinking it was broken, as he got up and walked away, the ticking cogs of his wrist watch began to increase in volume as if they were calling him back. He seemed to notice that the infernal ticking drowned out every other sound around him, including the eggs sizzling in the skillet.

He picked up the small gold watch and the anomaly started to intensify, as the second hand got slower and slower the sound of the watch grew louder and louder. Roy's ears began to ring. Outside the commotion of the busy street was slowing down as if time itself was running out of batteries.

Roy stood in horror, trying to identify if he was hallucinating or not. He opened up the window in an attempt to breathe in some fresh air and looked down into the crowd below. None of the people moved in the slightest. Some of them were in mid stride, and some were even in midair. The air also didn't seem to smell as rotten as it had been. The echo from Roy's window was the only thing he could distinguish as a sound coming back to his longing ears.

Roy opened up his canteen and tried to splash some water on to his face but the water inside of it would not move as if it were frozen solid. He tried dropping it onto the floor but the canteen floated in midair, weightless and still. The Eggs frying away in the pan were frozen in their boiling state...lifeless as a photograph. Roy heard something moving down the road from the open window, what sounded like small footsteps against the concrete and tarmac.

He leaned out to get a better view. Down the street about a sixth of a mile, a figure moved in the distance, it appeared to weave through the crowd, trying not to knock the statues of villagers over, occasionally bumping into an object and trying to set it back to where it was in a casual manner. Roy watched in silence as the being drew closer.

A woman with soft silver hair walked into an opening in the crowd with an elegant stride, tucked in her arm was a large woven basket of groceries. As she came to a clearing, she stood on her toes and leaned over to see if she could plan a route out of the sea of statues...her face twisted in frustration. Roy couldn't break his gaze away from her as thoughts and feelings overtook his mind.

The woman finally came to a gap between two French automobiles just outside his apartment window. Roy held his breath as she elevated herself onto one of the cars to get a better view.

"Excuse me...miss?" Roy whispered trying to be polite.

The woman turned swiftly to face him, her eyes locking with his. In a flash, she threw the brim of her skirt aside and drew an old silver dagger. The basket she was holding was now floating motionless in midair like Roy's canteen.

At this point Roy was trying so hard to convince himself this was only a dream. He felt her soft sapphire eyes piercing into his soul. A sharp cold jolt went up his spine and seemed to knock him out faster than he could blink.

He lost control of his legs and fell forward, slamming his jaw onto the windowsill. The watch clattered to the floor and with it, the canteen that was once weightless in midair smashed into the ground spilling water all over his pants.