SPLINTER CELL: INTENTIONS

CHAPTER 1: PROLOGUE

March 29, 2008

U.S. Embassy

Tripoli, Libya

Jonathan Brooks of the Third Marine Defense Unit was tired, and was extremely nervous. The crowd of Libyan protestors were crowding even more, and the night was setting in. He prepared his night-vision goggles to see the protestors in the low-light conditions. He and his defense team had been out here since the afternoon, after the U.S. embassy leader Hal Eldridge called for immediate support after anti-American protestors crowded in the front gates of the U.S. embassy here in Tripoli, Libya. There had to be about five hundred of these Libyans, shouting anti-American chants, and burning British, U.S., and Russian flags. The Combat Applications Group, attached to the First Special Forces Operational Detachment, better known as Delta Force, had already blockaded a few streets that led adjacent on both sides to the embassy, and the clear road to the right.

Shots have been fired earlier today, but warning shots, none even aimed toward the protestors. But as the night was coming fast, the protestors got even more rowdy.

"Sergeant Brooks, we have about fifty protestors moving full speed for the embassy." It was Lance Corporal Alan Diaz's voice. He spoke urgently through Brooks' radio.

"Don't fire. Do not fire. Unless these protestors are packing heat, do not..." Brooks heard a barrage of gunfire. It sounds like an AK-47 due to the sharp sounds it emitted. Brooks moved his M16A1's sight to the source of the gunfire.

"Brooks! We're being shot at. Protestors are armed and are engaging, over!"

Brooks knew that if his men did not return fire, they would be shredded meat.

"Return fire! I repeat return fire!" Brooks yelled over his radio.

From a distance, he could see Delta operatives moving from their posts they blockaded away from the crowd. Brooks saw flashes from the embassy rooftops Marine sharpshooters were taking cover on. Brooks, who was in a nook in the southeast corner of the street, didn't see any protestors shooting, but he still heard the sharp clatters of gunfire from both the Kalashnikovs and the M16A1s. After five minutes of gunfire, Brooks could see a Black Hawk helicopter approach the embassy, maintaining a one hundred feet altitude. The door gunner fired 5.56x45mm rounds directly below the crowd. It was the most horrifying Brooks has ever seen. People after people after people were just being slaughtered, blood splattering, bodies collapsing. There was no mercy for the protestors who died a horrible death under the mercy of a young machine gunner.

But Brooks knew that the crowd was hostile, and any one of them could of wielded a weapon. The helicopter than proceeded to hover above the embassy, and three thick ropes dangled down from the chopper like snakes. He then saw his Marines climbing the ropes frantically, as Delta operatives on the roofs fired their assault rifles into the crowd. Brooks then realized that eighty-five percent of the protestors were armed with weapons are were actively firing at the helicopter. Smoke started to bellow from the chopper's hind propellor, the Marines on the ropes had enough strength to climb the rest of the way to the chopper.

"What the hell is going on out there? How many of us are dead?"

First he heard a blast of static then, "Ten of us, Sarge. We're coming back to get the dead, but for now, we have to evac the survivors. We already have reports of armed protestors infiltrating the embassy from the blockaded roads. We need you to remain in your position before we can get you out. Over and out." It was the voice of Lieutenant Jocelyn De La Tore, the female Marine in charge of the rapid-reaction force, which was the men and women in the helicopter.

As the night pressed on, Brooks can only hope he could survive the massive onslaught of the armed and dangerous terrorists, no longer protestors.