Aboard the UST Campbell

"The support's been cancelled? For fuck's sake, we need that support!" Joel shouted. He was quick to lose his temper, but not so quick to regain it.

"I am sorry, Commander Lincoln. The PAC has invaded multiple neutral countries that border the EU, deliberately attacking the European military. Our forces are holding off the attacks at key cities, including Amman, Ankara, Kiev, Minsk, and Vilnius. Your planned support, three regiments of Valkyrie Brigadiers and the Krieg 2nd Regiment, are holed up in Minsk right now, locked in combat with the PAC's First Army. If they control Minsk, then they can task more forces to other combat zones. With each city that falls, the next one will simply be easier for them to take!" replied Sir Marshal Lanchester, whose face, along with those of US Generals Jacob Langley and Marissa Stewart, and European Generals Emil Nikoli, Francois Guilmette, and Sigmund Hernandez were projected onto the wall in front of Joel.

General Hernandez cut in. "Less than an hour ago, Alena Voroshilov, one of the PAC's Co-Premiers, just announced on live television that the PAC had declared war on Madre Europa. We are officially at war with Asia. As Emil has told you many times, we really do hope for the best of America, and that you overcome your civil war. We want to help you. But we cannot, because if we try to help you, then Asia will destroy us even more quickly!"

Langley replied, "Your combined army, navy, and air force personnel add up to over 300 million! Surely you could send at least 5,000 troops over here!"

Guilmette replied. "Yes, we do have 300 million personnel- versus the PAC's armed forces, which are one billion strong! One billion!"

There was a long silence.

Joel could only think in his head, Damn you Euros. You promise us support and then break that promise the moment your shit hits the fan.

Finally, Emil broke the silence. "General Marissa."

"Yes?"

"You are the leader of the intelligence department of the United States Armed Forces, is that correct?"

"Yes, General Nikoli."

"Here is what I have in mind. We want you to spy on the PAC for us. If your spy can report back to you with troop positions, strengths, and movements, and you relay the information to us, we will have a better chance of driving out the invaders from the soil of Matka Europa. If we can get more progress done that way, then we may be able to free up a unit to send to America."

Joel's frown turned into a look of interest, although not at all cheerful or happy.

"Also, keep in mind that since the PAC is at war, they are going to need more equipment for themselves. Therefore, I predict a decline in PAC support to West America. They may even cease support to West America."

Joel spoke up again. "Well, that seems all well and fair. I wish to confer with my two generals in private for a few moments."

"Not a problem." Commander Guilmette responded.

"I don't mind." Hernandez said.

"Well, thank you." Langley replied.

"Actually," Marshal Lanchester began, "I'd rather that-"

"Yes, Americans. Carry on." Emil interrupted. Sir Marshal Lanchester seemed disgraced, by the look on his face.

Joel tapped a few buttons on his desk, and a new window opened up on his screen, showing the list of people in the video conference. He selected his two generals, Marissa Stewart and Jacob Langley, and with a few clicks of a button, the list disappeared their boxes once again showed on the screen.

"Marissa." Joel began.

"Yes, Commander?"

"I quite like Emil's plan. I'd like to know your two cents on his proposal."

"I have no problem with what he said." Marissa replied.

"And you, Jacob?" Joel continued.

"Hey, if it gets us our support, then I'm all for it."

"Good. Then it's settled." A few more buttons pushed on his keypad, and he was back to the main room, with the European Generals. "General Nikoli." Joel began.

"General Lincoln. I take it you've decided on my proposal?"

"We have. We are in favor of your proposed plan of action."

"I'm glad you see it my way, Commander."

Emil Nikolai's box disappeared, followed by that of Lanchester's, then Hernandez's, and finally Guilmette's.

"Well, Marissa, I hope you've got someone up for the job." Joel said.

"I'll find someone." she replied, a smirk across her face.

Twentynine Palms, West America

The guard inspected the car all around. The vehicle was a GAZ-93, intended for transport and light-attack purposes. In this case, it was used for transport, delivering a batch of PAC-manufactured Malkov R11 PDWs.

"You're clear. Proceed." the guard said. The vehicle slowly drove on through the checkpoint.

Neither the occupants of the vehicle, nor the guard who inspected the vehicle, or anyone in the base, for that matter, knew that a certain Hannah Jones, an expert in infiltration and espionage who worked for the US Intelligence Department, was clinging to the underside of the vehicle.

How much I would give for some camo, she thought. She had heard the stories, the reports of the PAC's IT-33 Camouflage, which could decrease the user's visibility by as much as 90%. She wished she had one of those, instead of having to cling to the underside of a car. Luckily, she was wearing a suit similar to what the European soldiers wore, although made of special materials to make it significantly lighter and quieter, as well as giving her a great deal of extra strength. She was thankful for it. Without it, she would've let go three miles back and either have been left behind, run over, or spotted by the convoy, who would've shot her. Also incorporated into the suit was a scrambler, which was how she was able to bypass the scanners embedded in the concrete.

The car stopped. She felt the door open and heard the soldiers get out of the car.

"Yeah. Let's get this crate to the armory. Captain Smith said he wanted that done before anything else."

"I can't stand him."

"Yeah, well he's the boss."

"Fine."

Hannah heard the two soldiers lift the crate and carry it away. Finally, she lowered herself. Easy now...

She touched the dirt. Quickly looking around, she noticed a third soldier, guarding the GAZ.

She had one of two options. She could try to take out the guard or sneak past him. If she tried to sneak past him, she ran the risk of being caught by the guard. Take him out, then they might find the body.

She decided to take him out. She reached out and tapped his boot.

"Huh?" the guard turned around and looked under the vehicle. Just as planned. She grabbed him by the head, making sure to cover his mouth, and pulled him under the vehicle, before she withdrew her Bulgarian BJ-1 Combat Blade and thrust it into the man's jugular vein and twisted the knife. This killed him almost instantly. Simpleton, she thought. I'm surprised you even got into the military.

Then she got to work to stop the bleeding. She didn't need a trail of blood to give her away instantly. She pulled out a bag and covered the wound with it, sticking it in place with a special epoxy.

Finally, she rolled the body out from under the vehicle before rolling herself out as well. She picked up the body and carried it over her shoulders to a nearby shipping crate. She dumped the body inside a small plastic crate within the larger crate and then snuck back out. By the time they found the body, she would be back in Washington DC. For extra measure, she rigged the inside of the crate with RDX explosive.

First thing's first, she thought. She had been given a map of the base. She looked up and around the base, trying to figure out where she was.

There. She was next to the secondary helipad. She knew now that she had to go north to get to the command

Soon enough, Hannah was a mere fifty feet away from the command center, where her objective, to retrieve a file with a list of shipments due from the PAC within the next three months. She hid behind a tank and watched as a woman soldier of about the same build as her, in a Lieutenant's uniform and wearing the West American Army's signature Red Beret, exited a BTR-2M. "God, that has to be one of the worst experiences of my life!" she exclaimed to a nearby soldier, a southern accent clearly present in her voice.

"Ah, don't worry, Lieutenant Sylvester. Juno's going to take you back home. They operate Gaz's, so you'll have a much smoother ride."

"Thank the Lord! Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to grab the shipment lists."

Hannah's eyes lit up at that moment. Perfect. She can get them for me. But once she does, I need to be quick.

Hannah peered over the tank once more. None of the soldiers were watching the woman.

Silently, she crept along the side of the wall, making her way towards the door. Lieutenant Sylvester entered the code to go inside the command complex, then made her way inside. Hannah quickly went inside as well before the doors shut.

Hannah, once inside, hid behind a crate. Even though Sylvester's back was turned, Hannah didn't want to take any chances.

She peered over at Sylvester. She began to walk towards the woman's bathroom. As she pushed open the door, she stopped. "I can wait." she said, before she continued.

Yes you can, Hannah thought. She took a second to come up with a plan in her head. Aha!

She waited until Sylvester rounded the corner, then she dashed for the bathroom. There were four stalls. She hid in the one farthest from the bathroom door.

On her suit, she engaged a special vision mode that combined X-Rays with IR waves, allowing her to detect other people from behind thin objects. One person came and went. That person was of no interest to Hannah.

Then, Sylvester came, files in hand. Hannah watched through the stalls as she set the files on the counter.

After a few seconds, Sylvester walked out of the stall. Now was Hannah's time to act. She drew from her holster a C-3 Stallion semi-automatic handgun with an integrated suppressor, walked out, and pressed the gun against Sylvester's neck. "You'll do as I say. Not a word will be spoken." Hannah said, her voice as cold as steel. "I'll take those." she continued, snatching the files from the counter. Sylvester raised her arms in compliance.

"Your uniform. I want it." Hannah said. Sylvester began to undress, as did Hannah. Minutes later, Hannah was in the uniform of a West American Military Lieutenant, and Sylvester was in the body-glove that Hannah previously wore under her suit.

"Now, it's time to hide you. Hands behind your back." Hannah said again, motioning with her hand towards the cabinet under the sink.

"Why are you doing this?" Sylvester whispered, fear in her voice.

"Because I know the moment I let you go, you'll give me away to base security. I'll be captured and shot. Also, you deserve this, for being traitorous to the USA."

"I was born here! I never knew the east!" Sylvester exclaimed quietly, as she began to tear up.

"Well, that's just a shame, isn't it?"

"Please, don't! I have a family to take care of!" Sylvester pleaded, practically sobbing.

"No." Hannah said. She finally wrenched Sylvester's arms behind her back and tied them there. Then, she tied her ankles together. Finally, she ripped some of Sylvester's pant leg off and stuffed it in her mouth, then taping her mouth shut. Sylvester tried to scream, but all attempts to draw attention failed. Hannah shoved her into the cabinet and shut the door, taping the handles together.

She had finally dealt with Sylvester and retrieved the files. Finally, she stuffed the rest of her gear, including the suit, into the trash can, armed some Thermite and stuffed it into the can as well, and then covered the top with paper towels. She held on to her Combat Blade and her C-3.

She walked out of the bathroom, and subsequently the building, as if nothing ever happened.

She walked up to a GAZ-93, the same one that she had used to infiltrate the base.

"Ah, Miss Lieutenant Sylvester!" an African-American soldier standing by the vehicle said, his voice quite deep.

"Good evening, Captain, uhh," Hannah had to read the name, "Smith."

"Same to you, Miss Sylvester. Didn't they say you had a southern accent?"

Damn! Hannah thought. She hadn't thought they would know.

"Nope, you must be confused with somebody else." Hannah said, hoping it would convince him.

"No, command said that she had a really thick country accent. The probably messed up."

"Maybe."

"Come on, let's get you home."

"Yes, please!"

Smith hopped into the driver's seat, with one of his soldiers manning the 8.3mm machine gun. Even in peacetime, the WA Army's VIP transports were armed with a machine gun to display power. Hannah put her things by the other soldier's feet in the back and hopped in the passenger seat.

The drive was relatively uneventful. Once they got to the street where the real Sylvester lived, Captain Smith nodded to Hannah, saying, "This is your stop, right?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Well, I do hope to see you again sometime soon. It's been a pleasure to help you."

"Thank you."

Hannah got out and got her things. As she shut the door, she attached a pack of RDX to the side. As she began to walk away, she turned back and, as was tradition for women in the WA Army, tipped her beret and curtsied to the soldiers. Smith returned the gesture of respect with the West American Military salute, bumping his heart with his right arm and then raising it in the air. The other soldier did the same.

After the car drove off, Hannah listened to some of the radio chatter in her earpiece for a second. Suddenly, someone screamed, "I found someone under the women's bathroom sink in the command center! She says she's one of us!" followed by, "We have an intruder!" Hannah pulled out the RDX remote, hitting the center button. She heard a loud explosion, the GAZ-93 exploding, followed by a distant boom. They wouldn't get ahold of any of her gear. She then dialed the earpiece into the USID frequency, saying "This is Spectre, I've retrieved the package. I've lost my suit and and am now in enemy colors. Coordinates are as follows: Thirty-four degrees, twenty-eight minutes north, one-hundred-sixteen degrees and seven minutes west, over."

"Spectre, this is the Center, we have your coordinates. Exfil is on the way, over."