Alrighty, I need a disclaimer for this piece of shit, because the legal system sucks ass. Well, I don't own Command & Conquer, which is a registered trademark of Westwood entertainment. Any resemblance of any characters herein to any other characters, real or fictional, is completely coincidental. Unless it's not, but if you try to sue me, I'll beat you up. That said, it's story time, children.
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As the arctic dawn shed its light upon the sparkling white snows of Western Siberia, it also landed upon three men emerging from a squat GDI barracks building. They were the Black Aces, the best pilots the GDI had to offer. Together, they racked up more confirmed NOD kills than any other aerial unit in the Initiative. They were some of the brightest minds around, and now they were leaving. The leader of the unit carried a silver briefcase which contained a map showing the location of every single GDI operations base, missile battery, submarine pen, and everything else. It was information was priced very highly within the Brotherhood of NOD, and would guarantee the three men positions of authority. As the first rays of sun crept over the mountains, the three Nightwing interceptors powered up, and took flight, away from their base, and their comrades.
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Through the telescopic sight of his rifle, James "Shadow" Moses tracked the movement of a NOD commando through the snow covered forest near a GDI encampment. The commando was trying his damndest to sneak by the sentries and fins something of value for his superiors, but so far, he was without luck. Moses smiled grimly, and squeezed the trigger of his rifle. The .308 shell destroyed the commandoes head, exploding it into a red mist that settled on the snow like paint. Moses moved his view a few yards to the left, and acquired his next target: the second of three commandoes. This one was lying prone in the snow, using a directional microphone to pick up a conversation within the camp. His life came to an abrupt halt when a silenced rifle slug entered his neck and tore his spinal cord in twain, as well as his jugular vein. The third and final opponent had taken up a perch in a tree, and was covering his comrade with his own rifle. From the look on his face, he saw what had just happened, and was looking for the source of the trouble. His rifle barrel made a wide arc, and, for a brief second, his scope lined up with that of Moses, and the NOD soldier saw his death in those ice-cold blue eyes.
His task finished, Moses quickly rose from his position and shouldered his rifle. Soon enough, the corpses would be discovered, and he didn't want to be there when it happened.
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Admiral Lewis Clark was becoming very frustrated with his mission. He had been sitting in his huge flagship for days now, commanding the sea-to-land bombardment of a NOD fortress on an island in the Mediterranean. So far all he and his large fleet of destroyers, battleships, and other assorted naval vehicles had managed to do was waste a whole lot of very expensive ammo and several landing vehicles. A giant shore battery was housed in the mountain on the island, and was able to pick off any vessel within range of its cannons. A countless number of jets have tried to bomb it in, but were either always shot down, or couldn't quite make it and were forced to return empty-handed, so to speak. All in all, it was a pisser of a situation.
"Fuck." The Admiral said. "Fucking shit." With that, he spat over the side and stormed back into the command cabin of the flagship.
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Snow was piling up on the transparent roof of General Julius Jeneson's office, located in a long tube connecting the two communications towers of a NOD firebase in Alaska. Reports littered his desk, covering every available surface. Requests for backup troops, ammunition demands, casualty lists, even food stocks. And all of them needed to be read and re-read so it could meet his approval. Not for the first, or last, time, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a bottle of Vodka and a shot glass. Smiling grimly, he poured a shot.
"To victory." He mumbled, and drained the shot, then refilled and drained the glass once more. A sudden thump on his roof caused the General to look up just in time to experience a small explosion and shower of glass as a man dressed in a black stealthsuit dropped through the hole into the office. Jeneson had almost enough time to press the alarm button before his life was ended by a single shot from the other mans sub-machinegun.
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The large hanger was freezing, despite the large amount of people within it. They were packed in, wall-to-wall, listening to a man speaking on a raised dais, flanked by two black banners bearing red wolves.
"My brothers and sisters," he was saying, "our moment is almost at hand. Within the week, our plants in the leaderships of both the Global Defense Initiative and the Brotherhood of NOD. As we ride to victory, the entire world will realize what power comes to the neglected, and what terrible repercussions may occur. Three years ago, the Red Wolf Faction was only an idea in the heads of a few soldiers. Now, it has grown exponentially, and soon we will be able to rival our foes with numbers, and far surpass them in prowess. We have the arms, we have the means, and we have all the time in the world to achieve our goals. This is our moment, and the world is our treasure chest. Let us open this chest together, my family." The man finished his speech to a roaring applause from his audience. Soon enough, they all climbed back into their assorted vehicles, and headed back to their posts to await the moment when they would inherit the Earth.
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AN: Yeah, I know this was short. Now, I need something from you. You need to vote on whether you'd like to see the next chapter about Shadow Moses, the mysterious sniper; the three black aces, who just fled their cause; the strange but deadly assassin who was able to infiltrate one of the most secure facilities in the entire brotherhood. Or maybe you'd prefer to hear about Admiral Clark and his fleet? Or this oddly frightening Red Wolf Faction? Remember, I won't post the next chapter till i get five votes, so vote now. NOW, damnit!
_^_^_^_^_
As the arctic dawn shed its light upon the sparkling white snows of Western Siberia, it also landed upon three men emerging from a squat GDI barracks building. They were the Black Aces, the best pilots the GDI had to offer. Together, they racked up more confirmed NOD kills than any other aerial unit in the Initiative. They were some of the brightest minds around, and now they were leaving. The leader of the unit carried a silver briefcase which contained a map showing the location of every single GDI operations base, missile battery, submarine pen, and everything else. It was information was priced very highly within the Brotherhood of NOD, and would guarantee the three men positions of authority. As the first rays of sun crept over the mountains, the three Nightwing interceptors powered up, and took flight, away from their base, and their comrades.
_^_^_^_^_^_
Through the telescopic sight of his rifle, James "Shadow" Moses tracked the movement of a NOD commando through the snow covered forest near a GDI encampment. The commando was trying his damndest to sneak by the sentries and fins something of value for his superiors, but so far, he was without luck. Moses smiled grimly, and squeezed the trigger of his rifle. The .308 shell destroyed the commandoes head, exploding it into a red mist that settled on the snow like paint. Moses moved his view a few yards to the left, and acquired his next target: the second of three commandoes. This one was lying prone in the snow, using a directional microphone to pick up a conversation within the camp. His life came to an abrupt halt when a silenced rifle slug entered his neck and tore his spinal cord in twain, as well as his jugular vein. The third and final opponent had taken up a perch in a tree, and was covering his comrade with his own rifle. From the look on his face, he saw what had just happened, and was looking for the source of the trouble. His rifle barrel made a wide arc, and, for a brief second, his scope lined up with that of Moses, and the NOD soldier saw his death in those ice-cold blue eyes.
His task finished, Moses quickly rose from his position and shouldered his rifle. Soon enough, the corpses would be discovered, and he didn't want to be there when it happened.
_^_^_^_^_
Admiral Lewis Clark was becoming very frustrated with his mission. He had been sitting in his huge flagship for days now, commanding the sea-to-land bombardment of a NOD fortress on an island in the Mediterranean. So far all he and his large fleet of destroyers, battleships, and other assorted naval vehicles had managed to do was waste a whole lot of very expensive ammo and several landing vehicles. A giant shore battery was housed in the mountain on the island, and was able to pick off any vessel within range of its cannons. A countless number of jets have tried to bomb it in, but were either always shot down, or couldn't quite make it and were forced to return empty-handed, so to speak. All in all, it was a pisser of a situation.
"Fuck." The Admiral said. "Fucking shit." With that, he spat over the side and stormed back into the command cabin of the flagship.
_^_^_^_^_^_
Snow was piling up on the transparent roof of General Julius Jeneson's office, located in a long tube connecting the two communications towers of a NOD firebase in Alaska. Reports littered his desk, covering every available surface. Requests for backup troops, ammunition demands, casualty lists, even food stocks. And all of them needed to be read and re-read so it could meet his approval. Not for the first, or last, time, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and withdrew a bottle of Vodka and a shot glass. Smiling grimly, he poured a shot.
"To victory." He mumbled, and drained the shot, then refilled and drained the glass once more. A sudden thump on his roof caused the General to look up just in time to experience a small explosion and shower of glass as a man dressed in a black stealthsuit dropped through the hole into the office. Jeneson had almost enough time to press the alarm button before his life was ended by a single shot from the other mans sub-machinegun.
_^_^_^_^_^_^_
The large hanger was freezing, despite the large amount of people within it. They were packed in, wall-to-wall, listening to a man speaking on a raised dais, flanked by two black banners bearing red wolves.
"My brothers and sisters," he was saying, "our moment is almost at hand. Within the week, our plants in the leaderships of both the Global Defense Initiative and the Brotherhood of NOD. As we ride to victory, the entire world will realize what power comes to the neglected, and what terrible repercussions may occur. Three years ago, the Red Wolf Faction was only an idea in the heads of a few soldiers. Now, it has grown exponentially, and soon we will be able to rival our foes with numbers, and far surpass them in prowess. We have the arms, we have the means, and we have all the time in the world to achieve our goals. This is our moment, and the world is our treasure chest. Let us open this chest together, my family." The man finished his speech to a roaring applause from his audience. Soon enough, they all climbed back into their assorted vehicles, and headed back to their posts to await the moment when they would inherit the Earth.
%%%%%%%%%
AN: Yeah, I know this was short. Now, I need something from you. You need to vote on whether you'd like to see the next chapter about Shadow Moses, the mysterious sniper; the three black aces, who just fled their cause; the strange but deadly assassin who was able to infiltrate one of the most secure facilities in the entire brotherhood. Or maybe you'd prefer to hear about Admiral Clark and his fleet? Or this oddly frightening Red Wolf Faction? Remember, I won't post the next chapter till i get five votes, so vote now. NOW, damnit!