76 hours to deadline

Aaron's Charger flew up the driveway and came to a screeching halt in the garage. Almost before the car stopped, Aaron and Isaac jumped out of the car and started pulling bags of stuff out of the trunk of the muscle car. Devon, Davis, and Brian came running in, and Aaron yelled, "Guys! Get these inside, NOW!"

Fumbling with the bags, the young men got all ten bags into the house. Davis threw his bags onto the main conference table, and said loudly, "Alright, what is so freakin' important that you guys vanish for 20 hours without a word of explanation?!"

Aaron opened one of the bags he was carrying and pulled out what looked like a regular bulletproof vest. Yanking the chest plate out, he said quietly, "You know what this is? Do you?"

When Davis didn't say anything, Aaron continued, "Boron carbide body armor. This stuff is the fifth hardest substance ON EARTH! When a bullet hits this plate, it breaks, not it! This shit could stop the shrapnel from a grenade going off in your lap! And that's not all!"

Dumping out the rest of the contents of that bag, he revealed a near-complete suit of similar armor, including a helmet that completely covered the head. Aaron held up one of the shoulder pieces, and said, "In one of your bags, there's a suit of this armor. Don't worry, it will fit. Now, for weapons."

Isaac opened his hard case, and pulled out an AR-15 with a 14.5" barrel. He said, "Alright, from now on, we're using these babies. Sorry, Davis, no more Rambo impersonations."

"Now," he continued as Davis started mockingly crying, "Everyone will be using a suppressor on their rifle because the days of our Wild West shoot-outs are OVER! There are four innocent lives at stake here, and I want ALL of them to get back to their families in one piece! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!?!"

Involuntarily, Davis, Devon, and Brian all shouted back, "Yes, sir!"

Aaron said, "Okay, moving on…..These rifles fire a 6.5mm bullet at exactly 2,510 feet per second. One shot can and will bring down a deer at 900 yards. I've seen it done. Now, take your gear and do whatever you want to customize it- other than ditch it, because that is not an option. Got it?"

Everyone nodded, so Aaron said, "Okay, now there're a couple other things that we're getting. Everyone will be getting a laser designator for calling in air-strikes, just in case we run into something that we can't handle in our usual fashion."

Everyone laughed, and Aaron continued, "Use these things sparingly. We can't afford to use it every time. Now, there are holsters built into the thigh plates and ammo pouches already on the chest plate. Get everything customized, painted, attached whatever you need to do. We leave in 6 hours for the target."

With that, he packed up his gear and walked out. The others followed suit, each walking to their respective areas to get ready.

The first thing Aaron did was get all of his armor up onto a rack and paint it matte black. He did the helmet first, and when he finished painting the boots, he pulled out a stencil of a skull, laid it over the face of the helmet, and put white paint all over it. Lifting the paper off carefully, he was rewarded with a disturbingly perfect battle helmet. For the finishing touch, he hooked up his iPod to the two-way radio headphones, because he liked listening to Drowning Pool and Disturbed while he was blowing people away, and clear bulletproof lenses over the eyeholes to give him an added level of protection.

Once his armor was ready, Isaac got out his new gun and checked it over, admiring it as he did so. Listening to AC/DC as he worked, he attached a reflex sight on top of the receiver, a bipod and forward handgrip under the barrel, and a tactical flashlight on the side. Then, he took his katana off its storage rack, checked the edge one more time, and tied the scabbard onto the back of his armor.

Davis snorted at the sight of his new gun. He installed a heavier barrel to better cope with heat and provide better accuracy, and only added a reflex sight, a bipod, and a forward assault grip as accessories. To compensate for the "lack" of stopping power, he loaded six fully loaded Beta C-Mags into the ammo pouches, determined to win by sheer amount of lead.

Aaron reached for his rifle, with the silencer already attached, and took it apart, familiarizing himself with each part as he did so. Once the rifle was completely disassembled, he went to work. Replacing the stock barrel with an extra-heavy 20 "one, he reassembled the lower part of the gun and moved on to the upper receiver. He placed a custom-made Leupold adjustable magnification scope on top, made sure it was properly aligned with the barrel, and added a flash hood and flash killer for added stealth. Finally, he disassembled his old AR-15, took the stock and trigger assembly off, and added it to the new rifle. Snapping it back together, he loaded it, cocked it, and after adding a carry strap, forward assault grip, flashlight, and laser sight, set it down next to his armor.

He stood up, and looked at himself in the mirror. Six feet tall, 168 pounds, 17 years old. He smiled to himself, looking at all of the scars he had accumulated during their operations. But tonight, he said to himself, it would end.