Alpha Force didn't need telling twice, they started hustling through the trees towards the cabin.

"We should be helping Steve." Amber panted, as they pushed on as fast as they could.

"He knows what he is doing Amber," Hex replied between breaths. "We'd just get in his way."

Amber was apprehensive about leaving Alex's dad to stop five gunmen, but she held her silence.

"Look!" Paulo pointed to the clearing ahead, where a small log cabin sat. To their immediate front was the door and the other side concealed a row of windows that exposed the kitchen. Smoke escaped the chimney in a narrow stream.

The team untied their modified snowshoes and placed them under the top cover of their packs before continuing.

A stout pine door held the entrance to the cabin.

Amber paused for a moment at the door, almost afraid to open it. Then she remembered the gunmen and pushed the door open. Her friends piled in through the door, stumbling across the threshold together in their haste to get inside.

They immediately saw the figure crouched by the fire, feeding another log into the hearth. Above the fire hung a billycan of water, coming to the boil. The interior of the cabin was plain, but homely, with the skins and pelts from various animals decorating the floors and walls.

The crouched figure stood in a hurry and spun on the spot at the sudden intrusion.

"Alex?" Paulo asked in amazement of the man who stood before them.

It was like their friend but only in subtle ways.

This man's hair was long, down to his shoulders and sunbleached into roughly the colour of sand. Most of his face was obscured in a fine dark blonde beard, a couple of inches long. It was more of a light brown really, with the occasional interspersing patch of gold to remind them of what its original colour was.

His eyes however were the giveaway; such shallow, frosty blue that they appeared grey. They mirrored the ice in the windowsills exactly. Eyes that he shared with his father. Eyes that barely concealed a deep sadness and regret, which was diluted with surprise at the old friends standing before him.

"Guys?" He hoarsely whispered in disbelief, his voice sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time.

A slow smile grew on Alex's face until it seemed to shine through his cloudy beard. His four best friends in the world echoed his happy expression.

And that was when the building was engulfed with automatic gunfire.


A freshly reunited Alpha Force dived to the ground, desperately forming to the floor to avoid the deadly barrage. Hundreds of rounds sprayed the small cabin, entering through the window side and reducing the panes of glass into so much sharp debris. A cloud of sawdust clouded the cabin, as it was peppered with holes and the large bullets shredded the wooden structure.

The noise was truly deafening, as multiple firers hammered rounds down onto the house. Alpha Force was pinned down, unable to leave the floor in fear of receiving a bullet in the head.

Braced against the low cupboards of the kitchen, the first four members were rained upon by chips of wood and broken glass from the penetrating bullets. The kitchen counter above their head, split under the weight of fire that made it through the walls and small pieces skipped off through the air from the impacts.

"What is going on?" Alex yelled at his friends over the racket from his position by the fireplace.

With a quick glance towards him, Hex saw that there was a back door right beside Alex. Maybe we can escape out that way, he considered over the chaos.

"Dunno, people trying to kill us, the usual." Amber cried, with an added unsaid tone of 'Duh' to her voice.

Alex pondered on this for a second with his shaggy head cradled in his arms.

"Why? What have we done now?" He hollered at his friends in the run-on kitchen.

The roar of gunfire drowned out all other noise now and he had to make do with a shrug from Paulo.

All of a sudden the back door exploded inwards on its hinges, a soldier in white camo burst in through the entrance, his rifle raised. He hesitated for a moment where he stood, closest to Alex at the far end of the cabin. The extra array of targets in front of him giving him a second's pause, as he scanned for his intended objective. Swinging his rifle down and to the left, he finally saw the blonde haired man he was sent for.

His finger tightened around the trigger, but Alex was already attacking. Too far to physically get at the killer in white; he instead threw the nearest thing he could find. With an abrupt splash, he flung the pot full of boiling water in the soldiers face.

The professional recoiled backwards from the scalding assault, his whole face and neck ablaze with pain even through his pale balaclava. A scream of unbelievable agony escaped his blistered lips, as the exposed skin was scarred a dark red and already began to distort from the heat. He tore frantically at his ski mask trying to remove the painful article of clothing that was now horrendously, sticking to his scorched skin.

All thought of shooting was forgotten in his world of terrible burning.

His terrifyingly maimed face was wretchedly revealed, as his bare nails scraped fabric from flesh and tore the mask off. It was like something out of a horror movie, red and raw, with large fluid-filled bubbles forming out of the damaged flesh. All his features had begun to swell from the heat and the repulsive sight was compounded by his twisted expression of pain.

A split second after the first soldier entered, a similar soldier burst in through the other door. Unlike his disabled counterpart, this soldier's clothes were already covered in blood, a scarlet patch soaked one whole shoulder and arm as well as his weapon. Also unlike his ailing partner, he didn't hesitate at all.

Taking in the scene with cold calculating eyes, his raised weapon drew a bead and he unleashed a short burst of automatic fire.


Alpha Force cowered at the gunfire in such close proximity and almost missed the lifeless body drop. Three rounds collected the ailing burnt soldier in the chest, destroying his balance and most of his ribcage, in a disgusting explosion of flesh. The force of fire threw him back into the open doorway, for his blood to pool in the melting snow like the worlds most gruesome slushy.

Alex turned his attention back to the shooter and saw him lower his rifle, take a knee and pull back his mask.

To his amazement he found the aged face of his father inhabiting the mantle of the snowbound killer.

The blood on his arm didn't appear to be his own and provided the others with a clue to the whereabouts of at least one of the intruders. The commandeered rifle was also a strong indicator that he had met up with one of the invading party.

"Dad!" Alex cried in recognition and joy.

"It's good to see you again son." Steve rejoiced with the first genuine smile he had given in a long time.

It flashed in place for a second, before he turned serious again.

"Paulo, Li put your balaclavas on and get back to that ATV, secure that for our escape." Steve ordered, ushering them out the back door, out of line of the machine gun.

He turned to Hex, "How's your throwing arm?" He asked over the renewed suppressing fire.

The hacker looked at his weak right, "maybe Amber is better for that." He shamefully admitted.

The gun finally eased firing, thinking the assault was finished.

"Here then," Steve said, drawing a small object from his webbing and throwing it to Amber. "Just like the movies, pull the pin and throw it hard at the bad guys."

Amber looked down at the round grenade in her gloved hand; it fit perfectly in the palm. She felt physically ill looking at the heavy, death-dealing device.

"This is uh.." She started.

"Smoke grenade." Steve assured her, dropping his mask down once more.

Amber looked at the device again, unsure, nervous.

"When I stand up and distract him, you throw it right at the machine gun okay? It will be somewhere on that tree line." The trooper indicated to her.

Amber nodded apprehensively, not wanting to let down the soldier.

His fingers mimed 1,2,3, before standing up and pointing into the house.

"Clear," He informed the machine gun, which sunk on its stock as the operator visibly relaxed.

At that moment Amber pulled the pin on her grenade and hurled it at the gun emplacement.


The A & B gunners' eyes went wide as an unwelcome guest suddenly inhabited their overwatch. To Amber's surprise, their gun post exploded with a loud bang and a puff of snow, as thousands of deadly metal shards erupted from the fragmentation grenade.

She whirled angrily on the SAS trooper.

"That wasn't smoke!" She accused in outrage, her revelation somewhat unnecessary given the pulpy state she had reduced the machine gun team to. Her mind reeled at the two gruesome deaths she had just caused.

Steve turned on her with icy eyes that showed no remorse.

"Would you still have thrown it if you'd known that?" He callously suggested.

Amber couldn't respond, she was still devastated by the deceit. Or was it because of the question that she didn't have an answer to.

Would I? She asked herself, did I even believe it was a smoke grenade in the first place or did I just use his assurances to allow me to throw it without guilt?

Hex noticed a small circle of light shining in the snow, as he moved forward to rescue his girlfriend from herself.

His powerful mind did turns trying to figure it out and in the meantime he acted on instinct. He tackled Amber to the ground just as a heavy crack rang out, splitting the air.

"Sniper!" He yelled in realisation, kicking himself for forgetting about the fifth invader.

Steve ducked behind the counter, knowing he had blown his cover with his treachery against the machine gun.

"Alex, do you still have the M-21?" He yelled to his son taking refuge in the doorway.

Alex nodded and rapidly leopard crawled from the room.

"Where is he Hex?" Amber queried in her huddle under his arm.

Hex moved slowly to a large bullet hole in the wall and double-checked where he had seen the scope flash.

"Hasn't moved. Fifty metres half-right of the gun and another fifty or so back." He decided, giving his target indication.

Alex crawled back in with a long odd shaped bag slung over his back.


Coming to a stop by his friends behind the counter, he undid the zip and removed a long black and brown rifle.

It was simple in its design, a basic M-14 assault rifle that had been converted to a marksman weapon by adding an adjustable ranging scope onto the top and filling it with match grade ammunition. What was an already effective infantry weapon from Vietnam was changed into a highly reliable sniper rifle with just the small additions. While outdated and outstripped by many modern marksman rifles, it was still a very respectable piece of equipment in the right hands and it had a reputation for being extremely hardwearing.

The thousands of rotting Vietcong in a far away jungle were testimony.

Accordingly, Steve had coveted one of the proven weapons for hunting larger Canadian game and the most dangerous animal of all, if it came to that. The twenty round, 7.62mm magazine contained twenty armour-piercing rounds, as a consideration for the second kind of prey.

Alex's familiar hands held the weapon with reverence, as he slotted in the short magazine into place. Quickly and competently he cocked the weapon and confirmed the round sliding into the chamber.

Amber could tell this rifle was part of Miller history and a weapon that Alex was very much used to, whether that was a recent development she did not know.

Alex double-checked the safety and was about to chuck it to his father, when he caught the man's shaking head.

"No. You have to take the shot." Steve insisted, a mixture of emotion held back in his eyes.

Alex blanched at the idea, "No way, you are one of the best shots in the regiment. I can't do this."

"Yes you can." Steve assured him, stretching in cover to lug a hand on his shoulder.

Seems an awful inopportune time for a dad to give his son a first go at something, Amber thought cynically, still huffy with Steve over the grenade trick.

Alex finally seemed to accept the role thrust upon him and started looking for a good position.

"Good boy," Steve encouraged him, "Find a decent place where you can see him, use Hex as a spotter."

Alex looked until he found a good vantage point, about two feet up the wall where several bullets had impacted. They had created a hole just large enough for his barrel and sights; the opening was no larger then a hand held vertical.

Awkwardly he braced at a knee with the rifle.

"Try sitting," His dad recommended quietly, "With your legs bent and feet against the wall. Brace your arms off the wall or the inside of your knees."

His son heeded the advice and changed into a much more comfortable and stable shooting platform.

Hex talked softly in his ear, describing the location until Alex had it scoped. He still couldn't see the sniper though.

"I'm looking in the right place, but I can't see him." He admitted in defeat, his one open eye glaring down the scope.

Maybe Hex should do this instead, he thought despondently.

"Now we just need to make him move for you, keep watching son." Steve instructed, before poking his own rifle over the counter and squeezing off an extended rip of fire in the snipers general direction.

Through his telescopic sight Alex saw movement, the snow seemed to round into the outline of a body and the stick of a poised rifle.

"Got him? Good, I'm going to give him a target, as soon as he fires, you nail him okay? The soldier explained to his student.

"Roger that." Alex breathspoke, taking in a lungful of air and lowering his aim picture slightly. He removed the safety.

A few metres away Steve had dragged over the first dead assault member and was holding him up by his shoulders. Seemingly immune to the grossly disfigured face he kept aloft, the trooper slowly raised the corpse so that his head was slightly in view.

Peeking with a deadman.

Alex breathed out slowly, his crosshair now falling on the enemy sniper.

This is it.