X-COM: Disposable Heroes

by A.D. Aldous Dragon

In this blend of both the old XCOM: UFO Defence and the new XCOM: Enemy Unknown, a tale of soldiers and their commander sent tumbling through the ugly mess known as desperate politics is told. As XCOM answers every whim of the Council and are left alone with hard choices, the Unit faces death at every turn. For after all, they are nothing more than disposable heroes.

2. Chapter 2

"Wha-"

"Move it, Marine!" Jethro yelled at the surprised Colton, as he swiftly got himself onto his feet, muscle memory making his movements practically short and quick. Followed behind by the alert and apt Miles, whose reaction speed nearly equaled his, Jethro rushed to the weapon storage rack, where his trusty FN40GL-H is lying on its vertical support, and proceeded to take the gun, as well as a Heckler and Koch Mark 23 that he had requested for his sidearm. As he quickly checked through the handgun's pieces and made sure it was fully ready for use, Jethro nearly found himself pausing in slight shock at the laser-aim module attached beneath the gun's barrel. It made the gun slightly heavier than he hoped it would be but at least, with a check of the magazine, it was loaded with penetration rounds. Just as he requested. Slipping the Mk 23 into the provided holster, which strapped around his right thigh, Jethro continued on with the quick checks of the safeties of his rifle, taking comfort in this old friend of his while he loaded a new grenade round into its grenade tube.

Keeping it down to the floor as he held the rifle with one hand, Jethro carried on with other pieces of gear. Two M67 frag grenades were placed into the left and right pockets of his black combat pants. Not only that, much to his pleasant surprise, he was greeted with night vision goggles (NVGs), the designs of which he realized were based on the old ENVG, but unlike the old bulky beige-colored single-lens predecessor, these new goggles were attached to the earpiece-communication system and had three straps to wrap around the head, while allowing its tri-lens black main module to sit comfortably on the user's forehead, readying it to be slipped on in an instance.

Putting these on, Jethro felt slightly satisfied in the possibility maybe this XCOM Unit might actually be backed by serious individuals who see the need to provide everything possible to ensure the effectiveness and safety of their troops, instead of waiting on a popular backlash before becoming willing to even think for the lives of their own soldiers. However, part of him still reflexively felt that that idea was just oo good to be true and hence, he found his eyes looking strangely at the XCOM patch on his vest's chest.

Sitting back down onto his seat, the middle-aged SEAL strapped the NVG over his greying hair, while curiosity pushed him to take a look at what everyone else had taken along with them. Colton was easy to predict. His selection of weaponry was no different. It stayed true to his Marine background. An M5 carbine with a RAS, along with a vertical forward grip and an ACOG sight. It was a common variation found in the army. Not that being common is bad, since its frequent use does point to its reliability. A single M67 grenade, along with a flash-bang. Nice touch with the flash-bang; it should be useful during the night operation. What did surprise Jethro however was the two M9A1 pistols strapped at Colton's side. He obviously must be a fan of guns akimbo, Jethro cringed in exasperation in the back of his head. Too many times, he had seen over-excited young soldiers use two pistols at the same time as if they could somehow juggle the recoil and aim effectively. "Are you sure you want to use dual pistols?"

"If it gets the job done in close combat, yep," Colton smoothed his hands over the pistols as if they were his precious babies. "Meet Betsie and Sasha. Don't worry; these babies have been with me for seven months. I've pretty much saved my own life like a thousand times with these things."

"Saved your life from what?"

"Mosquitoes and horseflies. Nothing better to fight them back with pistol butts."

Hindsey slapped himself in the face. Guessed as much.

Taking a look of Kai Ling, Jethro realized that despite her frosty demeanor and lack of any obvious hints to her personality in her body language, a single known fact about her was enough to easily see why she picked her equipment. As a patriotic member of China's PLA, the woman had brought along the Chinese standard assault rifle the QBZ-96-2, an accurate and controllable rifle that used steel-core armor-penetration bullets. Her sidearm was nothing spectacular, being only a standard self-defence QSZ-92. Unlike both Americans, Kai Ling lacked any sort of grenades and Jethro, seeing this, realized that the female held her gun with a conditioned and sharp grace. She really did have great trust in her shooting skills.

If only he could wish that he could have that much confidence in his own.

Finally, Miles.

...

...

...

Looking over the still silent operative two more times, Jethro found himself still unable to believe it. If his knowledge of equipment and guns was still accurate, each part of Miles' equipment belonged to a different country, with nothing nationally common among his chosen armaments. Thanks to this, Jethro could not get a single bearing on where Miles came from and what military unit he had belonged to. Not only that, with his professional and almost natural stance, it was clear from the get-go that the big man had great proficiency with each and every one of his equipment, making it even harder to guess just where his background originated from.

Holding it on his lap as if it was just an extension of himself, Miles was quickly and cleanly checking through his Israeli-Colombian Galil ACE 53, an assault machine gun that was at least a meter long. Furthermore, his sidearm was not a simple pistol, but a Croation SMG, the Agram 2000, being only at most two palms big, sitting comfortably on the side of his thick right thigh. Miles also had one L109 British anti-personnel grenade, along with a bright-red pistol-like instrument on his left thigh. Seeing this, Jethro did not know which country that piece of equipment had been manufactured in but he remembered that back at the weapon rack, he had seen the same thing lying under the label 'Medikit'. Whatever it is, it sure was not any kind of first aid kit he had seen before.

All of them had the NVG strapped onto their heads at least, along with the same class of body armor provided to them by the XCOM Unit. However, they seemed to have been given personalized body armor, if a simple change in color was anything you can call 'personalized'. Jethro's own tactical vest, along with his attire beneath it, was that of a light gray, decorated with tiger stripes that were similar to the blackish-blue of the deep sea trenches. Colton had his at a dull brown, while Kai Ling, staying true to her nation's flag, was fundamentally red, but at a much darker shade so that it would still camouflage efficiently in the dark. Miles' suit was completely professional and practical, with its color being entirely as black as night.

As they all sat down onto their own hard plane seats, the pilot's loud soldier-like voice echoed from the front, obviously speaking to Central Command. His voice had a tone of discipline and clarity but parts of it was muffled away by the roaring sound of the Sky Ranger's powerful engines. "Central, this-Voodoo Three-One. Appro-ing-thirteen minutes." After a few seconds of silence, Big Sky's voice appeared again, responding back to Central Command's reply hidden in his own communicator. "Understood, Central."

"CO IS COMING ON SCREEN!" The Sky Ranger's inner announcer blared out with Big Sky's voice. "AT ATTENTION!"

"Screen?" Colton mumbled in confusion as he looked around for a sign. Kai Ling and Jethro could empathize with him, as they followed his actions. There was no discernible visual screen anywhere inside the Sky Ranger. Everything around them was just standard transport equipment, safety netting and emergency items. Miles just sat perfectly straight-up and at ready.

ZIIIIIEEENN...

"Uh...is that...?" Colton's jaw dropped at the sight of a metal pole dropping down from the aircraft's ceiling, removing itself out from a gap that was shaped just for it. While one end of the pole remaining attached to the ceiling, the free end angled downwards towards the squad, its point melded to the central cylindrical-like machinery, that ended with smoothed out corner attachments, forming an upside-down T. As it stopped moving, Jethro realized that his finger was reflexively pressing onto his rifle's trigger, muscle memory having tensed up at the sudden sight of a blue translucent holographic screen materializing just below the activating machinery.

On it was a middle-aged man, who was dressed in a green sweater over a white collared-shirt, along with a dark brown neck tie also slipping under the shirt. Over where his heart should be was the same XCOM patch stamped onto the sweater. His shaven hair indicated the background of a military man (as if that was a surprise) but the obvious ear-piece and microphone attached to his right ear indicated his status as a communications officer. Right now, he was standing in what seemed like a command center, but it was clear from the jumbled equipment and the stacking of boxes far behind him showed that it was still largely in process of being prepared.

Colton recognized him, as did everyone else. All of them had seen this man before back at the emergency base they had been kept in. But only Colton knew his last name. Along with the rest of it, which he shouted out in barely hidden delight. "Larson "Canyon" Bradford! This day is just getting better and better!"

"That's Central Officer Bradford for you. I see that you haven't outlasted your energetic demeanor. Some of the men are still pretty displeased that you went swinging when they tried to take you in."

"Take me in? They tried to tackle me down like tigers on a deer!"

"Your feedback is noted, Colton. We will utilize more...appropriate methodology next time then."

Colton gave a smug shrug, "Whatever floats your big-ass boat, Canyon."

"But back to serious matters. I'm sure, during the trip, that all of you have familiarized yourselves with one another and may be surprised by the involvement of different nationalities. Make no mistake, that was a necessary step for this Unit if we are to do what we are about to begin."

"You are now part of the XCOM Unit, a special operations organization that retaliates against forces that we have yet to fully confirm-"

"Wait a minute!" Jethro felt his alarm nerve ringing at the sound of 'yet to fully confirm". It fully reminded him about a few certain conflicts back in the old 20th century. He could not help it. It just came out of it so forcefully. "Did you just say that we have yet to fully confirm an actual enemy? Are you SERIOUSLY telling us that we are getting ourselves a wild goose chase, looking for something that does not exist?" When he was done, Jethro gave a big exhalation of self-aimed frustration.

For somewhere in his gut, he knew that he was incorrect with his accusation, a 'knew' that was confirmed when Bradford spoke up again, this time with more assertiveness pressured in his tone.

"I said 'fully confirm', ex-SEAL. Though we were unable to get any sightings of whatever we are really dealing with, I'm pretty sure that these images point to something that does exist." Turning to give a gesture whoever was offscreen, Bradford's image flickered, before changing into another feed. Now a total of ten tactical pictures were displayed and the moment Jethro laid his eyes on them, he fully regretted his outburst.

Three of the photoes at corner were images of molten wrecks, their original shapes being barely recognizable from the damage, steam pouring profusely out of their super-heated bodies. One of them was a military jeep; the chain gun on its back had liquefied into nothing more than a burning stump. The other two were helicopters, their red-hot hulls pierced through and through, along with propeller wings halfway turning into metal lava.

Two other pictures depicted unusual container-like objects plunged onto the ground, but Jethro did not recognize the sleek, silverish design. Nor did he comprehend the green thin tendrils that seemed to extend out from the container in an almost sentient manner. Some sort of biological weapon? He could not tell. But the one thing he could tell was that whatever it was, it was not there to participate in charity.

Three other images were located at different angles and locations. One of them was within one of the helicopters, when it was still operating. But what engulfed most of the screen was a bright, almost blinding green flash, as if green light had suddenly been concentrated into a single liquid ball and lobbed at the helicopter. The second image was tilted perpendicular to the ground, surrounded by burning fuel and familiar helicopter scrap, probably because the soldier with the helmet camera was lying on the ground, propelled off by the subsequent crash. Even if he did survive the landing, he is probably dead now. For another one of those harlequin green flashes of light was heading right towards the camera. The last image of this unusual flash was taken from a different angle, still deep within the carnage and destruction of the helicopters. This time, however, the photo-taker was not being attacked by a flash of light but looking at its side as it impacted a soldier. Whatever it was, it was at least the size of an arm and left a fading trail behind like a comet. When it hit into the unfortunate soldier, it seemed to have exploded into a green fluid-like blast. "My god...," Colton gasped under his held breath. The devastation was just so complete.

"Indeed," Miles casually commented, ignoring the evaporating flesh and blood that spattered about in the next image as its photo taker died in a washing sea of green. He felt no emotional effect from the passing of the soldier. Only interest at the sight of large glowing ovals of ember that peered out from just behind the splash of light, as so emphasized by the red circle drawn over the anomaly. That was most definitely the enemy.

"What does that mean?" Kai Ling was next to murmur out her words as she looked at the last image. Unlike the others, it was not a tactical photo taken by the soldiers on the ground, but was a satellite image taken over the site of activity. From a look, things were obviously bad. Within the small section of the initially peaceful-looking town, a very contrasting scenario was displayed. Oil fires were burning over smoking cars and ground was blackened by both helicopter crashes and what was possibly exploding vehicles. She could understand helicopter crashes but though she may be a soldier, she knew from experience that cars don't just explode like in television. Yes, they burn but not explode.

Whatever set them off had to have enough heat to cause the fuel to burst out of its chassis in a violent expansion.

High heat. Bright flashes of light. Melting metal. Fluid-like properties. It could all only mean one thing for what they had seen.

Jethro: "Plasma."

Kai Ling: "Plasma."

Miles: "Plasma."

Colton: "Obvious Star Trek rip-off."

Everyone else stared daggers at him. "What? Can't a fan have an opinion on his sci-fi childhood?" Colton was promptly ignored with silence as the feed flickered, replaced once again by Bradford's face.

"Indeed, that is the same conclusion analyzers have come to upon sight of the intelligence that we have gathered from the site. We identify the projectiles as some form of plasma accumulated into a feasible bullet."

"Weren't the US government trying to create something like that in 2013?" Jethro asked, his spec ops knowledge coming to mind.

"Negative, what you referred to was the Lightning Project, a complete failure. All of the data and anything even possibly usable was confirmed to have been destroyed. Whatever we are dealing with is an entirely different piece of technology, far beyond whatever we have seen before. Initial speculation before this discovery had been on special operations units or well-funded terrorists cells but upon sight of the plasma, we have slashed out that possibility."

"So what are we facing exactly?" Miles asked.

"Unknown. That was why we cannot fully confirm the threat, but it is indeed a threat. All we have of our would-be opposition is this image," Bradford extended out his arm to the left and popping up just over it was the same amber ovals in the image of the splash of plasma, the particular corner they occupy now expanded and sharpened to a better quality. Even then, all everyone could see was the dull and almost abyss-like glare that seemed to come from those 'eyes', shining through from the darkness that this enemy struck from. "You will be going in hot, squad. The local police force has already cordoned off a 300 meter area around the site. Nothing has been so far reported to have entered or exited the fringes."

Another nagging question popped up in Jethro's head. "What is the 'official' story that the government is going with?" He had seen many such stories before, utilized to make countries look like the good guys when they were in fact perpetrators or to hide something in plain sight from the public eye. Searching for nuclear weapons, fighting against terrorism, training exercises, 'helpful' aid, concerned charity and that entire vomit-inducing BS. It just sickens him.

"They have yet to come up with a viable cover-up, Petty Officer. Though I fully expect that the bureaucracy will go with local terrorism as their story. Panic is much easier to keep under control when it is caused by something that the people understand." The voice who answered him was not the Central Officer. Much to his surprise, Jethro witnessed Bradford turning to look off-screen as the officer simultaneously gave a prompt salute. The voice that had answered came from whomever was now approaching the screen with solid footsteps.

"Commander, I'm glad you could join us." Bradford greeted as he was joined by Ernest King. Okay, maybe not the actual World War II Fleet Admiral but whoever this Commander was, he really looked like the Ernest Joseph King of old. First of all, he was obviously aged, Jethro could tag at least sixty years onto the man, due to his deep wrinkles that ran over his oval-shaped face, neck and his exposed knuckles. His eyes were of an timeless dull-looking gray but the light that was in it gave it a bit more life than it was meant to, making it look more like the gray of a stormy cloud. With a large protrusive nose as well as a tight-lipped mouth, initial looks at him could garner a few sniggers and looks of incredulity at his rank as Commander. But the way he stood in his dignified military-style manner, as well as the familiarity he displayed with the black officer uniform, more than made up for it.

His movement was calm yet cautious, rigid yet flexible, revealing to the already analyzing Jethro that this elderly man had many years of both field and commanding experience under his belt. It made him nervous, seeing this. It just reminded him so much of back then.

"The pleasure is mine, Central Officer. At ease," The officer gave a smile as he cued Bradford with a gesture to go back to his station. Turning towards the awaiting squad, the commander spoke out with a gallant and firm voice. This was a man who took no nonsense and expected his command to be respected. Much to Jethro's nerves, his experience told him that that was not always the best personality for a commanding position. "Commander James Galloway. That is how you will address me, squad. I'll be the one in charge of this operation. Though many other commanders would like to uplift their troops' morale with brave ego-boosting speeches, I personally believe it is best that I better stick to the concrete truth, no matter how hard it is."

"True," Miles emotionlessly agreed with his rough, roguish voice. Jethro understood it too. With the images they saw, the danger of this mission is something on the extreme of the spectrum. It was impossible to not expect what Galloway was going to say.

"Some of you may and probably will die in this operation. That body armor of yours have been provided with the best ceramic and anti-heat components that we could fit but even then a single hit from the plasma could melt it all off, as well as the person inside it. The only way you could survive a direct hit would be if you are fast enough to take off your vest before your skeleton burns to a crisp." The commander paused, scratching his shaven chin in silent thought. When he continued, the tone of his voice had changed from dread to something akin to wary hope, "But do not forget that all of you, along with the others back here, are handpicked from millions of soldiers across the world. Your skills are considered to be the best of the best. Your reputations place each of you above so many others. And your minds are as sharp as soldiers of your caliber should be. We can admit that those may not be enough to keep you alive. But that does not mean success is impossible." Seemingly done with his speech, Commander Galloway gave a sigh as he stood back in attention, the energy placed into his speech having previously pushed him to move into a more emotive stance. "I just pretty much gave you an ego-boosting speech, didn't I?"

For a few seconds, everyone was silent, for they were partially confused over how to comprehend the mixture of doubts and hopes within that speech. How much hope did Galloway have in them, they could not truly understand. In this awkward silence, the squad members looked at one another, Jethro to Kai Ling, Kai Ling to Colton, Colton to Jethro. Miles, well, he just stayed how he was, ever self-segregated and self-exiled from the group. Even then, all of them could only formulate one response.

"Understood, Commander," the squad (minus Miles) responded with firm belief. The man in question just stayed silent, his feet tapping against the ground.

"If only you really did, squad," On his side, Galloway felt his heart sank. In actuality he was not fully done with his speech, only stopping it in hesitation and then covering up his abrupt stop with a dodging sentence.

The last sentence he had truly wanted to say, but chose not to, was: "But it does mean that success is slim, for you are dealing with something you have never seen on this planet." Looking at the now readied squad on the screen, he wondered at the unfairness of the fact that he knew more than they do, so much more about the full extent of this crisis, yet be left without the necessary time to tell them what they absolutely needed to know. Telling them now that they are facing aliens would have placed too many questions in their head and made them mentally unfit for combat, even undermining his ability to command them.

But at the same time, when they realize what they are truly facing, the same thing will happen as well. Either way does not bode well for the squad. He might as well try to prepare them as best as they could with the briefing time he was given. Any other problems that will arise from this, he will have to deal with it during the actual commanding. So, he continued.

"Alright, we are going into the area with a blatant landing, so expect hostiles to be ready for us. No element of surprise, no jump on the enemy. We will likely go into conflict on the spot and hence the Sky Ranger will leave once you are dropped off to prevent debilitating damage. This will also be a night operation, so make use of your NVGs but remove them upon actual enemy fire; the plasma's light will blind you. Stick together as a squad, stay on your toes and watch out for one another. I will be commanding you through your earpieces. Listen to my orders and all of us may be able to get out of this intact."

Looking towards the awaiting Jethro, Galloway stared at the middle-aged Navy SEAL with a hard eye. He had seen his record. Extreme competence in field work, having headed many successful operations as the Unit States' watchhound but had displayed multiple signs of insubordination and disagreement with orders, as well as a rash and emotion-directed mindset during combat. Along with one incident that should have gotten him court-marshaled. Given the high stakes in this mission, this could prove either productive or destructive. Still, out of the entire squad, he was the most experienced. "Hindsey," He called out.

"Yes sir?" Jethro hurriedly sat up, jolted out of his own slightly indulgent analysis of his commander.

"You are squad leader. I'm putting you in charge of member positioning and role assessment. Keep the team at their toes, Squad Leader, and follow my orders to the letter."

"Understood, sir," Jethro half-heartedly said. Truthfully, he partially expected it. Don't get him wrong, he was not being smug. He just understood the reasoning. However, even then, somehow being appointed squad leader just did not help to ease his nerves about his commander, especially with regards to the last sentence.

"Are you sure you really understand, squad leader?" Jethro felt his heart jump in shock at Galloway's shaking head, as the commander glared at him with threatening eyes. "If I order you to terminate a member that has become a threat to the safety of the team, will you do so without a moment's hesitation? If I ask you to follow my directions to flank in the middle of enemy fire, are you confident enough to still your nerve and do as I say? Can you do all that without me even needing to order you? Most importantly, do you trust my word over your gut?"

Jethro felt himself struggle to answer back, as Galloway's questions drove at him like throwing knives thrown by a magician, only this time they failed in the intended trick and pierced his heart. His head was going into a rush and the old memories that he had kept quiet in his mind was now flooding about, allowing old demons to surf into his conscience. The people yelling and screaming behind the fence. Begging for help. A grenade primed. Dropped to the rods. Hands trying to press on the pliers, trying to break the fence's hinges. Gunfire from a friendly gun, mixed with the tears of an idealist. An order that crawled deep into his mind, telling him to take the shot. Only for him to ignore it.

"That's-"

"LANDING ZONE IS NOW IN SIGHT! WE WILL BE LANDING AT LZ IN THIRTY SECONDS!"

As everyone else begin to snap onto their feet, Jethro slowly stared with his mouth agape as the commander returned it at him with those grey eyes. Touched with both concern and hostility, they seemed to drill into his soul with their laser glare, even as the commander begin to disappear from view with the slow disintegration of the hologram. Even then, his voice still could be heard, speaking in its ominous tone, haunting him as he too got up, his rifle handing limp at his side along with his left arm. "Still your nerves, SEAL. Despite what you might say in words..." The hologram completely disappeared, snuffing out Galloway's voice.

Yet, Jethro could still hear it, as the earpiece he wore activated.

"...the only true conclusion I can make will be from your actions."

And so, as the brief feeling of slowing descent took over, Jethro nearly stumbled as his hold on the rail above his seat loosened at the sensation. Quickly tightening his grip as he re-steadied himself, he tried to keep his ragged breathing under control, letting out condensing clouds of breath as the ramp that was the back of the Sky Ranger began to open, allowing in the blowing cool air of Andover. The roar of the engines began to lessen as Big Sky decreased their power from the cockpit, cutting the power off entirely as the craft rocked against the ground, completing a bumpy but otherwise stable landing.

A landing into a place of unparalleled danger and hostility.

And with the falling of the ramp, the flames of hell revealed themselves.

Jethro was stunned for the few seconds as he slowly stepped outside, the cold night wind smacking him in his face. Yet, despite the cool temperature, his eyes were burning and sweat was dribbling down from the forehead. "What in the world..."

He had seen the images. He had seen the satellite coverage. But those just did not hold a candle's worth to the hell that was raging around them. As Miles, ever unsurprised, slowly strode down the ramp with his Galil ACE at the ready, everyone else stood at the mouth of the plane, staring wide-eyed at the cataclysmic-like scene that surrounded them in burning flames. It was dark, as expected from the night and shrouds of shadow made visibility hard at a distance. The flames, though, more than broke through it. Where they stood was a long main road, but what was on it took their attention. Car wrecks engulfed in flaming oil, infernos burning and devouring over barely recognizable bodies, blackened craters that surrounded the crash sites of the two downed helicopters, as well as dribbling pools of melted metal, some even engulfing and smothering burning bodies. Moreover, the nearest building, a McDonald's store, was already smoking from the back, with the carnage clear yet invisible from the squad. Another building just next to it was intact, but the windows were already turned to their molten state, some frozen by the wind, others still in the process of dribbling over the edge and incinerating the vegetation beneath them.

Even worse were the five green flashes of light that screeched in the air as they approached.

"EVERYONE, GET DOWN!" Jethro screamed at the top his lungs, as he pushed both Kai Ling and Colton down and off the ramp, just as the plasma bolts sailed over their bent-over heads, and exploding into the liquid blasts seen in one of the images, engulfing the very same spot that they had been standing at.

From his view in the command center, Galloway acted quickly when he saw the bolts of plasma blackening the upper side of the ramp. "BIG SKY! GET THE RANGER OUT OF THERE!" He commanded through his voice com. Thankfully, the Sky Ranger, as its ramp lifted back up, had its high-grade armor barely scratched by the hot temperatures of the green plasma, being barely phased by ten more shots that peppered it as it lifted off into the sky, disappearing out of sight into the darkness of the nights, its VTOL engines becoming part of the stars. Seeing that their transport prototype was safe, Galloway felt half-relief by the success of the first field-flight of the SR-0 prototype, but as more plasma came in on the large screen that he watched, his attention quickly turned towards his operatives pinned by the aliens, watching their situation through their personal cameras in the NVGs.

As for the squad, however, none of them were able to discern, in the confusion, where their attackers were coming from. Dodging two more plasma shots, Jethro had planted himself behind a smoldering car wreck, kneeling behind the charred hood, as another plasma blast sailed over his head. It all happened so fast. Whoever these people were, they were obviously well-prepared for them and their plasma guns were firing at a ridiculous rate of fire. Thankfully the bolts seem to lack the velocity of real ballistic bullets and thus were still dodgable, but to a very dangerous degree.

"We are getting owned here! What do we do NOW?!" Colton yelled as he quickly got beside Jethro, kneeling behind the car's doors. Another two green shots flew over the car ceiling, causing the panting man to bend his head down at the sound of plasma cutting the air. "It won't be long before we get riddled with those things!"

"Stay calm," Galloway's voice, urgent yet controlled, echoed in everyone's earpiece. After analyzing what he had seen through the various perspectives of his soldiers, the commander had a plan. Time to take command. "Hindsey, I need your rifle's grenade launcher. Provide one-shot covering fire while Kai Ling moves up to the car just ahead of your position for a better shot. Flush them out of their hiding spot."

Kai Ling, sitting behind another car right of Jethro's own cover, took a quick glance at the commander's indicated location. Indeed, there was another car wreck five meters in front of hers. It was sliced in half, but it was still good cover. That was what she noted, before she ducked to dodge another plasma bolt. Despite all the fire, it was difficult to note where the enemy was in this combination of darkness, fire and green light. All they could pinpoint was that the enemy was further up. And could see them clearly through the darkness. "I can get there fast enough." Kai Leng reported to both the ducking Jethro and the listening Galloway.

"What else, Commander?" Jethro asked over the com.

After a few quick second thoughts and a few more screeching plasma bolts over his operatives' heads, Galloway scratched his chin as he gave out another set of orders, "Colton, use the car's windows to help give yourself more cover and give covering fire for Jethro to pinpoint his grenade shot. Miles, I need you to note the enemy's next location and use one of your grenades. That way we can make sure they don't have time to escape. How good is your throwing arm?!"

"Thirty metres."

"Good, that should be enough. NOW GO!"

It all happened so quickly, so methodically. The moment the commander gave the order, everyone immediately allowed adrenaline to fill their brains. Colton was first to move, opening the car's door he had been kneeling against and dropping prone onto the hot seats, his armor blocking off the heat. His rifle's muzzle placed onto the window, Colton shouted "OOH RAH!" at the top of his battle lungs as he unleashed a burst-hail of pot shots at any source he could discern to be even spewing plasma. The opposition tried to target him, but they were obviously in a desperate hurry, for they spent too much trying to shoot through the window's gap to impossibly hit Colton, rather than logically melt the door away with their plasma. Yet, in the darkness, Colton could not find a mark on his targets but that was alright. He was only needed to divert fire away.

It was enough. Priming his FN40GL's grenade launcher, Jethro took the chance granted by the free window of opportunity as he rose up from behind the vehicle, muscle and brain reflexes driving as he lined up for his shot. Now that they were concentrated away from him, it was easy to see where the enemy was now. Sure enough, the charging flashes of green could now be clearly seen to have originated from a pair of cars that were twenty meters ahead of their own cover, smashed against one another in the middle of the road from what could have a panic-induced attempt by the drivers to get out of the zone. It was still too dark to discern the crouching silhouettes that were behind them but Jethro did not care. He had a shot and with hormones numbing his concerns, he angled his launcher just right, as his vision tunneled for an aim, and let off its shot, the round sailing off, hidden by the darkness of the night.

"Look out!" Jethro was briefly stunned as he was thrown onto the ground by the now disengaging Colton, just as another bolt of plasma jetted through where his head should have been. The enemy had spotted him and took a shot at him but thanks to the quick notice and reflexes of Colton, he was saved.

But thanks should be given later. On to the next phase. As he removed himself from Colton, Jethro quickly turned to Kai Ling, giving a quick affirmative nod. At the same time, Miles was already readying his grenade. Even better, as Kai Ling shot out of her cover, the grenade round must have impacted the ground, for a brief shockwave was felt by everyone as the enemy's cover exploded into a blast of fire and fragments. His heart skipped a beat at the seemingly smoothness of the operation. But it also almost froze at a certain sound. The cacophonous noise of the explosion nearly drowned it out but there was unusual sound of talking. Not English, not Chinese, nothing even remotely familiar. It was just gibberish, like a multitude of birds chirping in disorganized unison, and it sounded also so...alien.

What the hell was that?!

Jethro had no time to try to even answer his own questions as he watched out of his cover as Kai Ling was just done slipping behind her new nearer cover. Then when the woman stood out to aim for a shot, something unusual happened.

She froze like a statue.

Not ice-frozen, but voluntarily frozen. She stood there with a dumb look in her eyes, her face now paling. It was as if she had seen a ghost, or something she simply could not believe.

Whatever it was, Jethro felt his heart sink. The woman was obviously scared of something she saw when she was closer. Chinese soldiers were known for their resilience and stubbornness. To see her just suddenly freeze at the sight of something, indicated that what she saw had to be something monstrous. And that fear was going to get her killed if she just stood there like a target dummy. "MILES, GIVE THEM METAL TO EAT! COLTON, WATCH OUT FOR ANY FLANKING!" Jethro ordered his teammates as he rushed up, his grip on his rifle loosened so that he could run at full speed, his arms stretching out in order to push Ling down.

From his point of view, Galloway felt his jaw drop in horror at the sudden loss of will from Kai Ling, as he felt dread run through the arms that he now slammed against the command table. From the camera on Kai Ling's NVG, he could see what she saw and he was already prepared for the sight. What made him horrified though was the undeniable fact that Kai Ling's state right now was because of his decision back then. Right now though, it was too late for him to regret it. The only thing he could hope was that the squad could retain their edge against the aliens.

Miles did not need any hesitation. Just as Jethro cleared his view, the burly man gritted his teeth as he contracted his muscles as hard as possible, his eyes drilling incessantly at the scurrying vague silhouettes that now moved off the middle of the road from their obliterated cover and towards the left pavement: a surprisingly intact truck that had swerved into the McDonald's building. For the enemy, that was a poor choice of cover. Noting the weakness of it, Miles felt a blood-lusted smile on his face light up as he threw the grenade with an underhand, marking it just right to bounce off the ground between them.

And roll under the truck's container.

Right where the enemy's unusually webbed feet was visible. They screamed in the garbled incomprehensible voices, exclaiming their shock and horror, but it was too late.

One of the silhouettes, sitting at the corner of the white container truck, had enough time before the grenade to poke out for a shot. And so when it spotted Jethro charging for Ling who was frozen in shock, it took its chance before its last moments, aiming and letting out a shot of holy fire at the 'alien' soldier. It could have let out two more, but Colton would have none of it. The moment he spotted the thing letting out its first shot, he quickly took initiative and lined up his M5. Biting his tongue in split-second concentration, Colton allowed his eyes to briefly look down the sights and his trigger finger danced around the trigger for the slightest of moments. Then it pulled.

Much to his satisfaction and relief, the subsequent burst of bullets, ringing at the sound of gunpowder ignition, nailed their target and though part of him felt like screaming at the realization that the enemy's bulbous head was at least as big as its body and its height was as high as his waist, his delight had overridden it.

As it too was overridden by his subsequent horror at the possibility of the loose plasma bolt threatening to hit both Jethro and Ling.

That was when Ling acted. Apparently having recovered herself from the shock at the sight of their enemy, the soldier's eyes widened at first at the flash of approaching plasma. Then quick thinking and quick muscle went into action. Stretching out her arms in a throw, Ling allowed herself to get into Jethro's pulling down arms as she threw her QBZ rifle right at the plasma bolt.

Both of them knowing how dangerously close the possible explosion could be, both Jethro and Ling quickly fell down behind the car wreckage. And as weapon and projectile collided, the grenade thrown by Miles released its ordinance.

BOOOOOMM! As a sphere of energy shot up from behind the truck's container, the sound of metal piercing right through metal could be heard, as the grenade's fragments shot their way through the container. The death screams of the still unknown and now questionable entities could be heard in the split-seconds that followed as their hidden bodies were clearly being ripped to shreds by the explosive fragments of the grenade. At the same time, a flash of green and the sound of a bullet shot combined together in the small eruption that engulfed the QBZ rifle, swallowed by the exploding bolt of plasma. The melting pieces of rifle metal flew over the two soldiers lying just a meter away from the blast, the car blocking out most of the hot pieces, with the little rest just glancing off Jethro's ceramic armor, being too small to give even a poke.

As both explosions faded away into dispersed energy, Miles and Colton stayed up with their rifles trained, Colton taking cautionary steps towards his lying comrades. "They seem okay," Galloway noted in his comlink. When he saw the quick reflexes that the team had displayed, he felt his heart rise in relief. No one, much to his surprise, had been injured. He felt thankful that the X-COM Project did not try to recruit people off the streets. "Check on them, Deacon. Miles, stay on alert and check the enemy."

Miles gave an affirmative, walking steadily out of his broken cover. "Understood."

"Alright, sir." Colton acknowledged. "You okay, old man?" Colton asked as he patted Jethro's shoulder, his head still looking at the road in front of them for sights of any enemies. Miles now took his chance to advance, slowly patrolling his way forward, moving past Colton as he neared the truck, the hold on his rifle clenched in readiness for retaliation.

"Call me 'old man' again and I will flip you to infinity and beyond," Jethro gasped under his hyperventilating breath as he pried himself off Ling's unharmed body, the woman below promptly picking herself up as she brushed off any dust and debris on her attire.

"Sounds like a challenge," Colton gave a forced guffaw as he friendlily grabbed Jethro's hand, pulling the middle-aged man back up to his unsteady footing.

"I can't believe I am admitting this," Ling spoke as she looked lamentingly at the splash of metal that had been her gun, "but you saved my life. Thank you for that."

"It's okay," Jethro replied, his body shaking off the debris that had fallen on his armor. He reflexively pulled out another grenade round and slotted it into his gun as he spoke. "Your gun throw was quick-thinking and saved us both from becoming bone pools. But you should really thank Colton for his shots. He also saved my head from an earlier shot of plasma."

"Aw man, you are making me blush," Colton gave out a confident smirk, rubbing his head bashfully in light of the praise.

"Perhaps," Kai Ling sighed under her breath as she subconsciously shivered, her mind now beginning to look back at why she froze up. She glanced at where Miles was, knowing what the professional was going to see as he rounded around the container's corner.

A movement that was noticed by Jethro. Not only that he had an extremely nagging question in his head, as well as many things that was just plain wrong with this mission. "Kai Ling, I'm sorry, but what was it that made you froze up just now?"

The moment the question came out, Kai Ling's face turned pale as her pupils begin to dilate in what was obviously guilty fear. Her grip on her now drawn Chinese pistol was also shivering uncontrollably, not at a vigorous fashion but unnerving enough. Her voice, when it finally managed to leave her tightening lips, was almost broken and full of tremor. "I...I...It was...What I saw..."

"Was this." Everyone gasped at the emotionless, unbending quake of Miles' voice, the soldier standing at the corner of the container, gazing at what should be the enemy's remains. Seeing how the man was unaffected by the sight though, Jethro felt part of him wonder why Kai Ling was shocked at the appearance of their enemy, yet another part of him whispered that he already knew the answer. So did Colton, an observation made by Jethro when he looked at his African American brother-in-arms, eyes widening at the sight of Colton shivering too, his jaw locked in an anxious grind of mandibles. He had seen something too and now he was halfway in realizing what it was. Not wanting to feel in the dark, Jethro patted Colton in the back as he gestured both him and Ling to come with him, nearing where Miles was waiting, the lone wolf stoic as ever.

When Jethro laid his eyes on what Miles saw, he felt like screaming and shooting himself in the head. For what he saw was nothing that he had expected at all. Instead of human bodies riddled with grenade fragments, what lay on the ground were the mangled bodies of five skinny, grey humanoid creatures, with big bulb-like heads, along with black empty eyes that covered at least half of the alien's mouthless, noseless and hairless head. Their body was small, yet with fat pot bellies, connected to almost bone-like ligaments that ended with flat feet, as well as five webbed long spindly fingers for each hand. Notable, however, is the lack of any signs of weaponry that could have shot out those plasma bolts.

If they could be compared to anything, they were a direct match with the grey aliens that you usually see in those alien invasion movies.

...

...

No...no...no...no, this is a joke. This must all be some big joke.

Surely the XCOM Unit was not seriously tasked to stop an alien invasion of Earth?!

Cognitive dissonance working its magic, Jethro fell onto his backside as he tried to crawl back away from the alien corpses. Colton was partly trying to control his voicebox and partly trying in vain to keep his footing as he leaned against the container for support, only to fall into it with a shocked yelp as the sheet metal fell apart from the abuse. Ling just stood there in her same shivering state, her pistol aimed toward the head of one of the creatures, as if afraid that one of them would just rise up to rain plasma onto them.

Unimpressed the jitteriness in his colleagues, Miles could only shake his head in dismay. Unbothered by the sight of the aliens, Miles walked forward to the dead creature that Ling was aiming at and lifted his foot over its huge head. Without a word, he unenthusiastically slammed down his armored boots. A brief fountain of yellow blood and fluid poured out from the crushed brain of the now surely dead creature, forming a pool of disgusting liquid innards as the body twitched in response with the abuse.

Entirely caught off guard by his actions, Ling gave a brief scream as she fell back, joining the other two men on the ground, confused and disorientated.

Miles could only roll his eyes in an impatient huff as he finally activated his earpiece. "Commander, I think the team is in a state of denial. Mind if you can explain to them what is really going on. I will scout out the road. Make sure that no Sectoids are getting the jump on us."

"I see, Miles. I expected as much." On his side, James Galloway could only sigh as he realized that his fears had come to reality. It was truly expected from the sight of something of such tremendous magnitude. Even now, whenever he laid eyes on early pictures of the aliens, he could still feel his heart race in a maelstrom of panic, fear and anger. Even the Council sometimes twitched on sight of the aliens. Only Miles was the one who remained indifferent to their alien origin. However, if they were to be an effective fighting force, XCOM would need to be able to get used to their absurd opponents.

"You have laid eyes on our opposition."

"What are these...things, Galloway?" Jethro stammered with his fearful vocals, his jittering body trying to defy against his brain's vain attempts to calm his now blaring nerves. "Surely they are not..."

"Aliens, Hindsey. Your eyes are not tricking you. These are not dwarf terrorists wearing fancy disguises. These are true aliens, in both flesh and blood. And they threaten Earth."

The way he spoke, the way he said it without so much as a sliver of surprise. He must have known. Galloway must have known it all along before. Jethro concluded that much in his shivering state of mind as he pursued his question on the com. "...Why did you fail to tell us about this, Galloway?!" Jethro felt his exasperation rise, the blood pumping at the horror in front of him making his head ache even worse, as he yelled into his comlink, formality and protocol abandoned. Questions just came to Jethro one after the other now and his mouth became an instrument of spouting them out. "What is XCOM really meant to do?!"

"A late Council briefing made me unable to personally meet you all at base to brief you on the true scope of the situation and using briefing time back on the Ranger to inform you about the aliens would have made you lose your nerve too early in combat. I had to make sure that you destroy the hostiles first before you break down and hence I saw it fit to withhold this information, leaving you all to discover it for yourself. As for XCOM's purpose, our full name is the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit. We a secret military project tasked with the total defense of Earth's atmosphere and landscape from the intrusion of external life forms. In layman's terms, we protect our planet from aliens."

And so the truth is out. Galloway felt unusual relief at that. He no longer needed to keep it hidden inside the back of his head. At least until the next batch of recruits comes in. "Know this, Jethro, that what you are facing now is only the tip of the iceberg of early information that we have obtained on the alien invaders. These grey-like aliens are known to Miles, and thus to us, as Sectoids."

"Miles?" Jethro gasped in aghast and surprise as he quickly swerved around to stare wide-eyed at the back of the man in question, who was now ten meters down the road, alert and checking the cars for any possible hostiles. "You mean, he knew all about this. Who is that man, Galloway?"

Galloway's reply was quick, hard and pushed Jethro's question away. "That is extremely classified information, the sharing of which is only granted to Miles himself to access who to trust. Until then, you cannot ask even me about him."

"Don't spout BS at me, Commander! Screw all that. I want answers and I want them now."

"I have to agree with Jethro, Commander," Ling slowly stood back up to her feet, her arms still shivering, but the rest of her body showing that she was coming to terms with the situation. Even though she did not completely agree with the commander. "If you expect our help, we should be granted this information in the first place, even if they would be hard to swallow. They should be left to our own judgment to access."

On the com link, the commander only gave a dismissing sigh, his voice turning up its aggression level and forcefully letting out his words. "And how will that exactly help you in combat? Would you have even believed me in the first place, without first setting your eyes on the enemy, when the time looking for their appearance could be time better spent on aiming and shooting?

"Do not judge us on providing freedom of choice to our soldiers. We can allow free reign in movement to you during battle, but that does not mean that I am required to let out information that could undermine the combat effectiveness and lives of the entire squad. Did you not realize what happened to all three of you when you figured out the truth? When you set your eyes on the enemy, did you not freeze up, Operative Kai Ling? Didn't the loss of your nerve allowed the enemy to retaliate and endanger both you and Jethro's lives? What sort of proof can you offer me that you would not do the same if you had knew beforehand?"

"He's absolutely right."

"Colton?" Both Jethro and Ling gasped exclaimed in shock at the young man who had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. His eyes hidden under the shadow of his unkempt hair, Colton gave a brief glance at the nearby bodies of the Sectoids and a shiver ran across his body at his still lingering disgust. However, that was all, much to Jethro's surprise, as Colton picked himself back up, his rifle held firmly in his arms, as he reloaded it. "The Commander made a good call, in my opinion. We fell into a wreck when we found out about this. At least, however, we managed to clean up the opposition before we did that. If all of us were screaming at the top of our lungs "ALIENS!" and left Miles alone to deal with all of them, I don't think we will be standing here right now."

Jethro tried to protest. "But-"

Then Colton gave him a comforting pat of the shoulder. "I think we should trust the commander for once, old man."

As their eyes locked with one another in a deep sight-based conversation, Jethro felt himself slightly in awe at the young man's ability to recover so quickly, even more at his stabilizing and heartful trust in the orders of a superior commander. It reminded him of himself, back in the years, when orders were something that were black and white, and that officers were deserving of respect. Now, no matter how much he wanted to try, that sort of mindset was just long thrown into the abyss of loss.

However, maybe, just maybe, he would not necessarily trust in a commander. But trust in a fellow field comrade. Aliens or not, that was a fair way to think.

"I guess we can give it a try," Jethro finally admitted with an apprehensive sigh and a reluctant nod, his hand reaching out to receive the second pull-up by a smiling Colton. "Once we are back at the base, I'm going to look forward to showing you some judo for forgetting my warning."

"Looking forward to it," Colton gave a guffaw of challenge, as a single step forward caused a simple pull-up of Jethro to turn into a firm and solid handgrip of comradeship. Eye to eye, hand in hand, just like as their eyes had conversed and argued, so did the hands now coexisted, finding relief in the touch of their counterpart. "We'll get out of here alive. Besides, we kicked their asses once."

"Just because you managed to bump into Sectoids who were unprepared and dodge a few ionized space pebbles, does not mean that we are some hotshot heroes."

Being back from his patrol faster than everyone had expected, Miles crashed through the conversation, his face only granting Jethro and Colton a fleeting scowl. Jethro felt like returning it with his own warning, especially given his new knowledge that Miles was far more than he seemed. However, he held back, for as much as he desired greatly to question him on the spot, the SEAL decided that his almost non-existent relationship with Miles did not need any further deterioration.

Furthermore, his disgust and almost unshakable impulse to release his stomach's contents at the pungent smell of grenade-cooked Sectoid corpse, not helped by the fact that their dirty yellow blood was simply comparable to vomit and other unspeakables, made Jethro guiltily wish that Miles had confirmed that they had clear the hostiles in this area and that they could just go home. But the moment Jethro saw Mile's finger lying tightly on his rifle's trigger, as well as the way his glazed eyes watched their dark night-covered surroundings, he knew that it was not to be.

Barely aware of his actions from both the numbing aftereffects of shock and adrenaline, Jethro absent-mindedly gave a small disappointed sigh. The mist of condensing clouds formed by it was not overlooked by Miles, whose eyes then immediately trained right at Jethro, looking both menacing and entertained. "Well, at least, I see our SQUAD LEADER can infer from body language." Sarcasm was indeed unbecoming of him but Miles did not hold back. He saw no reason to restrain himself, when it was so clear from the get-go that this middle-aged man was never putting his all into the mission in the first place. He did not question Galloway's decision to appoint this man as the squad's leader.

from walking up to Jethro, putting his mouth inches beside his ear, and softly but assertively speaking to him with that cold, pouncing-prone voice of his.

"Look here, SEAL. You might have 16 years as Uncle Sam's watchdog but I don't care how old you are or any pathetic self-pitying sob story you got hidden behind that circle beard of yours. Galloway picked you as the leader of the squad and that pretty much means your enthusiasm, or lack of thereof, is as infectious as STDs in New York. So unless you want us caught off guard by electrons, suck it up and act like your appointment."

The way he said it, with that background aggression and chiding scorn, just outright infuriated Jethro and in a moment of blinding anger, Jethro's arms shot up at Miles with their hands open and tensed, threatening to grab him and throw him down to the ground. To show him who has the authority. But Miles did not move and as he stared on at Jethro, deliberately ignoring of the incoming attack, he even gave a small smile, breaking his expressionless streak. Jethro noticed it. It did not take long for him to realize what it meant.

Miles wanted him to do it. He was goading him to beat him down. He meant to stir up anger within Jethro, so that his unenthusiastic atmosphere would be dispelled by the resultant outburst of energy, preventing it from adversely affecting the squad.

Jethro's hands halted just short of grabbing Miles' shoulders for a full-body throw. He understood Miles' logic and can even appreciate the attempt by the mysterious man to make him work like the Navy SEAL he was trained to be. He can even admit, in his heart, that Miles was right about the importance of a squad leader's image. But in the end, Jethro was a human and like any human, he was an inherently selfish being. He could care less about his own image and truth to be told, throwing down Miles would, as he intended, prevent Jethro from dragging down the team. Instead, part of him reminded him about his position as squad leader and that a physical confrontation could just isolate Miles even more from the squad, whether or not he desired it.

But the most important reason was that Jethro, as selfish as any man, did not want this perplexing man to have his way.

And so, determined to deny Miles of possible satisfaction, Jethro retracted his assault, his hands returning back to his side. Though Miles still kept that almost indiscernible smile on his face, a flicker in his eyes hinted at surprise at his actions. In fact, for a short while Jethro had been simultaneously wondering whether his inference had been wrong, that Miles was just simply smiling at the thrilling sight of an impending physical challenge. But when Miles spoke out with a questioning tone, "What are you doing?" his words pretty much confirmed that his intentions were indeed as Jethro had concluded.

"My job," Jethro snapped back, the years of experience of operations reminding him of the appropriate tone to take it, adopting a no-nonsense and direct smack-in-the-face attribute to his voice. "Care to report your scouting results?" Immediately after, he turned to Colton, who nodded at him expectantly. "Deacon, take point after this. Kai Ling, you lack a proper firearm, so keep at the rear. Make sure none of the aliens get the jump on us from behind."

"Understood," Ling replied along with an affirmative reload of her pistol. To show off her readiness, she even gave one of the Sectoid corpses a firm sharp kick, as if punishing it for freaking her out in the first place.

"Now...," Jethro returned to Miles, whose entertained smile had now completely reverted back to his standard poker face, along with what Jethro hoped was a glimmer of disappointment in those eyes. "...would you be so nice as to show us how is it that you know that we are not done?"

"Only because you asked nicely," Miles begrudgingly grunted back, his head shaking in possibly disbelief as he turned to walk through the road, "Follow me."

So, with Miles temporarily in the lead, the squad cautiously treaded over destroyed vehicles, puddles of leaking fuel and stains of blood, the members each vigilantly watching the buildings that lined the sides. From their initial charge down the Sky Ranger in the beginning, the atmosphere in the squad has now changed significantly, the members now knowing what to expect. But such is the mystery of knowledge, for even though they were more informed than before, the squad's knowledge of their enemy had made them no less careful than before. If anything, the fact that the realization of an alien opponent has opened further paths to more questions, allowing these to bug and haunt the three 'rookies' as they moved.

However, all that came to an abrupt halt, when they witnessed what Miles had intended to show them. Slammed into the middle of the road, having apparently fallen right on top of a truck, was the same tendril-bearing container that had been seen before in the tactical photo. Surrounded by splinters of what little remained of the obliterated truck, the sleek, now-known-to-be alien container stood there with an eerie silence, even as its tendrils sluggishly twisted and turned in the air, reaching out at apparently nothing, as the squad remained out of reach. Even more surprising though, is the body that lay right on the side of the container.

It was human. There was no doubt about that. You can even see that it was a male, but the only way one can do that is by inferring from the body's overall shape. Because no one could see his face, his clothes, not even his skin. The entire man was wrapped up in the same mucus-like material that was made up the container's tendril. It was as if a huge spider with green silk had paralyzed him and then proceeded to mummify him with an entire spinning of silk, covering him from head to toe, with not a single feature left to be seen.

Upon sight of the imprisoned civilian, Jethro felt his instincts take the reins and just as he was about recommend that they should free the civilian, Colton suddenly begun to walk up, apparently taking the initiative as his hand dropped his rifle and pulled out his combat knife. Miles' eyes widened in utter horror.

Colton had unknowingly jumped the gun.

Just as Miles tried to desperately shout at him and reached out to pull him back, Colton's foot stepped right on top on one of the container's tendrils. It happened so fast that Colton did not know what happened.

Within a matter of seconds, the tendril was grabbing him by the shin and pulling him towards the container, with himself desperately trying to cut the tendril apart with his knife, only for the blade to shockingly break on contact. It was only then that Colton realized that despite the tendril's thin and flimsy appearance, an extremely hard and transparent carapace was supporting and protecting it from harm.

"GET BACK FROM THAT THING!" Galloway's voice bellowed in Jethro's ear just as the middle-aged man was about to run up to help out Colton. Jolting back from his mistake, Jethro froze just as a second tendril shot straight at him. He must have stopped just as out of his range, as the tendril barely brushed his brow as it struggled to get him. As it then leveled down to just below his nostril, Jethro nearly felt himself fainting at the smell of dried blood, mixed with what could only be described as rotten detergent and ground eggs. At the same time, his vision tunneled at the sight of Colton being pulled further in towards the now growling container, the young man now trying to grab onto something for him to pull against the tendril, but in vain. He so desperately wanted to help him but much to his guilt, his own fear has locked up his body, as if somehow even moving even a centimeter would somehow motivate the tendril to extend and grab him.

That was until shots could be heard behind him and Galloway's voice, once again several decibels loud, shouted, "OPEN FIRE ON THE CORE!" In the seconds that had seemed like an eternity to Jethro, Kai Ling had unleashed several pistol rounds right at the container itself, while Miles, shaking his head at the once again tiresome rashness of his colleagues, grabbed Jethro on the shoulder and pulled him away from the tentacle, before allowing his rifle to fire away at its disgusting form.

Unfortunately for the container's creature, while its strong carapace provided some form of protection from small-arms fire, it was certainly not capable of handling rifle rounds, much less at point blank range.

Thus, as speeding metal penetrated its container exterior and ripped apart its personal interior shell, bright green blood spurted out from the smoking holes. And the creature, having not even a semblance of a mouth or vocal cords, could not fulfill its desire to scream, as all it could give was the churning of its interiors, in the form of a fading death-whisper.

As the low, inaudible sound reached the cells that made up its tendrils, a certain mechanism built into them by those who were its masters, activated.

"Colton!" Jethro, seeing that the tendril had ceased its pull on him, quickly got up from the ground as he rushed past Miles and Kai Ling in order to help the man up.

Colton himself just stared on at the container with a blank look, his fast breath harsh on his throat as he tried to recollect himself. As the nauseating effects of adrenaline became to kick in throughout his head, Colton felt his head spin violently as he wrapped his arm around Jethro's shoulder for support. "I-I seriously thought I was a goner..."

Ssssssss...

"ARGH!"

The container alien was not aware of its lethal fail-safe mechanism. Neither did it bear any ill will towards the people it had captured and preserved so many times. However, that was not going to stop the mechanism from utilizing the alien's tendril still gripping onto Colton's shin, as it forced the alien's dying organs to stab micro-spines into the man's leg, and like a swarm of riled up wasps, released its poison into his nerves.

Finally, as the human screamed in excruciating pain, his hands wringing his right leg as if he could push it down, the mechanism caused all of the alien's cells to spontaneously combust and while Jethro stared agape in confusion at Colton's unexpected suffering, the tendril that held onto his shin, as well as the entire creature within the container turned into ash, retaining their former shape for only a few seconds, before being blown away into the night sky, leaving their unfortunate and careless victim to fall onto the ground, tortured by the poison now eating through his spasmodic and uncontrollable leg.

Screams.

Alien screams.

This lowly one remembered the aliens when they fled away from their holy fire. This lowly one recalled the big aliens, bulky aliens, who fired back at them with toy guns. He remembered them screaming as they were killed off, one by one by one. And he must not forget the alien's loud craft, with those unnecessarily spinning blades on its top, falling to the ground, falling to the might of their belief. Oh yes, he most remembered it, as it was his shot that stripped that one of its height in the heavens, while his brethren imitated him with the other.

This lowly one wondered whether it should check out that alien scream. It seemed to have come from that ridiculously cuboid structures, no, from the other side of it. Back at the main road, where he recalled five of his brethren should have been watching.

A small section of this one thought it was strange that they would allow an alien to still live and it urged him, much to his chagrin, to check it out. But the most of him thought otherwise. He was no coward. Oh no, he just understood the appropriateness of times, when it was best to shoot, to get to cover and to just run. Even more convincing to himself, was that his brethren all believed in the power of their Holy Masters, the ones who gave them form in the first place. Surely, with the blessings of their Masters watching over them, they would be alright.

And that was what this one thought as it turned back to walk with its other brother, their hands clasped onto another prepared alien as they lulled themselves back into the routine of piling up the alien samples together, while their ears remain open for the sound of holy fire, that would silence the still screaming alien on the other side of the building.

I hoped that you like this action-filled long second chapter and if you are wondering about a few things in this chapter, then PM me your questions and I will answer them as quickly as possible. Just so that certain obvious questions would be answered, then here are a few quick answers to said questions.

With regard for the use of nation-specific assault weapons, I did this because the X-COM project had only been activated recently and thus logically, they had yet to fully standardize equipment, alng with the understanding that no matter how much training you might have in using other weapons, to ensure maximum combat efficiency would be to allow the 'picked-off' soldier to use his most familiar weapons, especially with a first-contact mission such as this.

NVGs? Grenade launcher? Since when did X-COM Enemy Unknown have additional equipment like that? None of them, really. These pieces of equipment are really what I would expect from a government-funded anti-invasion unit backed by every single major nation. The concept of having more pieces of equipment is however based on the old game UFO: Enemy Unknown, where those of you who have played it should recognize the body-based placement of equipment that is similar to the equipment screen of that old game.

Ernest Joseph King? The character Galloway is indeed based on this real-life World War II Navy Admiral, at least in look. Thus if you are interested in Galloway's appearance, you can look up this man's name on Google Images.