Up the Stakes
"Two hostile units in target structure. Proceed with extreme caution, the elimination of the vigilante superhero group known as The Teen Titans is our first priority, all other threats secondary, understood?"
"Roger that."
"Yes sir."
Another MC-130 Combat Talon, another HALO jump.
There is however, one key difference between the previous jump and this one.
The previous jump was filled with ex-military mercenaries, twenty-five of them.
This one is filled with only five of the most well-trained, lethally-equipped military soldiers in the world.
Five Navy SEAL members. That's all it took to reduce an enemy's fortress of two-hundred strong to rubble. They were being sent to infiltrate and terminate kids, for Christ's sake!
How hard could it be?
The soldier who had given the previous order was a tall, African American man in his early thirties named Brendon Fischer. Kevlar covered every square inch of his body, leaving no piece of skin exposed. It was coloured black to blend with the shadow, and his face mask that assisted respiration also doubled as light amplification goggles.
Under his right armpit a black M4A1 Carbine hung loosely by a nylon shoulder strap and beside it a HK P9S Handgun holstered safely in a leather pocket. His teammates were similarly armed, albeit with a few slight modifications to each weapon they wielded, in an attempt to 'personalize' them.
"Ok frogmen! Let's go!" He barked sharply, before leaping into the biting cold air. Four other figures tumbled from the bowels of the plane, and within seconds all sight of them from the cockpit was lost.
They sped through the air at an unmatched velocity. There arms were compressed to their sides and their legs were pressed together in an effort to minimize drag.
It was working very well.
They fell in silence. No radio activity bounced between them. Only the wind that screamed in their ears was heard, but before long they obtained a visual of the tower, and released their chutes.
Their speed was halted abruptly as their chutes caught the air above them and yanked them to an unpleasant halt. They drifted down and landed softly on the roof of the building, un-strapping their chutes before they had even come to a complete stop.
One last soldier emerged from behind a protruding air vent, wielding a knife in his right hand that was caked in dried blood.
"Two targets eliminated. They were guarding the rear entrance, but were silenced."
Fischer nodded. He then held up a gloved hand and indicated for the rest of his team to follow.
They slunk into the open doorway, and disappeared.
The Black Panther was never shocked.
It was a new feeling to him, and a very unpleasant one. He had already felt it twice tonight, and he was starting to get annoyed at how little he really knew about the whole situation here.
On the Eastern Wall, another row of TV Screens filled his vision. These were of the exterior premises however, more precisely, the roof.
He had just witnessed the infiltration of the Tower by another group, and by the looks of it, an infinitely deadlier one.
The stakes had just been raised to a whole new level.
The SEAL members crept out from the concealing black and surveyed their surroundings, just like they were trained to do, even though they had pored over the floor plans of this Tower hundreds of times during practice.
No surprises. Everything must proceed according to plan.
Fischer raised a hand in a gesture for his team to halt.
They obeyed.
He crept forward a few metres alone, and peered around a corner, his gun raised to eye level as he examined his world through the aiming reticule.
No surprises.
He gestured for his team to follow. They obeyed.
He slunk around the corner, cautious to not create any unwanted sound. His team followed his lead, and before long they had reached the end of the corridor.
Seeing no immediate threat, he deemed that this area was safe to utilize their microphones.
"Team one, proceed down the corridor, but do not open fire if hostiles are spotted, only return, understood?"
Two SEAL members barely nodded, before raising their weapons and skulking down the corridor that lead to the Titan's Living room.
"Team two, proceed back to our infiltration method and head West. Once again, do not open fire, only return."
Another two departed the team, leaving only himself and the sixth.
"Divide and Conquer, huh chief?"
Fischer nodded. "Exactly. Now follow me."
Fischer and the sixth punched a button that was labeled with an arrow pointing downwards, and in a few moments a cheerful 'ping' was heard, notifying the two that their ride had just arrived.
Crow's earpiece crackled to life once more.
"Satchel charges placed sir."
"Good work boys, now do something about the power, will you? Is Greaves with you?"
"Yes Sir he is, and no problem."
True to their word, the lights flickered for a few moments, before shutting down for precisely three seconds, then slowly coming to life.
"Shit! They must have auxiliary power. Searching for a backup generator… wait. Sir, did you send anyone else down with us?"
Crow's face went cold.
"Negative. Why?"
"Because the elevator just arrived." Crow could hear the soldier he was speaking to give some orders to his partners, and they all ceased talking as they hid behind various machinery.
The tension was so great, Crow felt as if he was about to scream just to release some anger, but lucky for him he withheld himself.
"False alarm." The voice said with an audible tome of relief. "There was no-one in-."
Static enveloped Crow's hearing.
"Blaze? Walker? What happened? Do you read? Greaves? What the Fuck?"
There was no answer, and there never will be.
He knew he had just lost three men down there, but he still couldn't bring himself to admit it. The lights were still on. The three men had failed their mission.
Wait. The lights just cut off. The Tower was plunged into a restless darkness.
It seems that Lady Luck was on his side for once.
In order to fully comprehend what had happened downstairs in the basement, one must take into account various contributing factors.
First, the speed at which the Elevator doors opened.
Second, the silencers attached to the SEAL members' guns.
Third, the portable frequency-jamming device that every self-respecting Special-Ops team carried.
Last, the speed at which the elevator descended.
Now, with all these factors noted, one can piece together the puzzle.
As the elevator descended towards the basement, Seal six removed the Frequency Jammer from his backpack and fiddled with it for a few moments, whilst Fischer fired one round into the lock of the Elevator's access hatch, unlocking it and swinging it wide open. SEAL six locked onto the broadcasting radio-waves and prepared to push the final button.
The elevator landed lightly on the floor and the doors widened, inching ever-so-slowly towards their pockets. This allowed the two SEALs to make their 'escape'. They leapt through the hatch just as SEAL six pressed the button, and the group lost contact with their leader.
This momentary loss in concentration was all they needed, and as one they fell through the hatch and fired in unison at the three stunned mercenaries. The one who had been attempting to contact Crow was the first to die. His body convulsed violently as a bullet entered his skull, blowing half his head off and causing him to jerk backwards, just as another bullet embedded itself in his chest, then stomach, then chest again.
He was dead before he hit the ground.
The second had been hiding behind a large piece of outdated machinery. Junk the Titans still kept in their basement. One lucky shot smashed into his nose and his face collapsed inwards due to the force of the impact.
He took a few seconds to die.
The third had managed to bring his weapon up, only to have his body shredded into pieces by the combined force of Fischer and SEAL six firing upon him.
He was dead as well before he hit the ground.
The SEAL members are efficient, deadly, and ruthless. They spent a few restless moments searching for the Generator, disabling it once they found it. The Tower was now dark once more, and it won't be light again for a long time...