Chapter 2 – The Soldier
Two tours in Afghanistan, forty-three guns, and about one hundred and twenty-nine thousanf bullets fired could not have prepared me for this. Why can't I move? Where are my senses? I can't smell, see, or feel my body.
My newest mission seemed very... unsettling when it was given to me. To drop into an insurgent filled area to assassinate one of their leaders alone? Something just wasn't right, especially the first time I heard it. My commanding officer's voice seemed a tone or so off, but I thought it was just because he was smoking, which wasn't something he normally did.
But since he was my commanding officer, I did as I was told and was in the insurgent headquarters by o-nine hundred. I was stopped at the door of the Muslim styled palace to be searched for weapons, but my friends at the camp made sure that all of my weaponry was well hidden. Two M1911's served as my side-arms, hidden in my coat, and a package of napalm C4 was what was going to rid the world of these demonic assailants. As I made my way to my target, a bathroom directly below the main conference room, I took a few seconds to think about what I was about to do. Kill hundreds, and save millions. It was a great deal. And my divine punisher was right here with me, strapped onto my back, ready for placement. It was like me, in a way. A soldier, to be dropped into the home of terrorism, who will destroy the eternally damned.
And I will do just that. I placed my holy weapon on a wall in one of the stalls, and left the building in a hurry, dodging questions from peons intrigued with my sudden urgency. I ended up in a small coffee shop six blocks away, ready to watch God's wrath unleashed upon these demons. I pressed the trigger for the C4 ever so gently, treasuring the moment and...
CRASH!
"EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR! THIS IS THE C.I.A!"
I was stunned by the sudden entry of black suit clad men, but not too stunned to squeeze the trigger. Never to stunned to enact a blow from God. One of the three suits pointed at me.
"You! Hands in the air! Into the car, or we shoot!"
I had no choice but to allow myself to by grabbed and transported by the men. My vision went dark as they shoved a wet rag into my face. Chloroform, of course. I remember laughing like a madman as my body went numb and my mind dark.
"How many innocents do you think you've just killed?" a cold female voice asked. "How many lives have you unjustly taken, mister Brooks?" I regained control of my body, only to realize that I was strapped to the seat of the car. My wrists were bound behind my back.
"Do you mind telling me just what the hell is going on?"
"Don't speak like that to your superiors, you worm. To put it simply, my dim witted friend, you are now a terrorist."
"WHAT?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "That can't be! I've spent my entire life, no, my entire soul to eradicating terrorist slime! I AM NOT A TERRORIST," I commanded.
"Tell that to the Afghan innocents you just... eradicated," she spat.
"THEY WERE A THREAT TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA."
"They were merchants, Brooks. And their wives and children." I was struck silent. "Now listen, because I have a proposition for you. Work for me, do well, and I'll make sure this never happened. Nobody will know of your sin. You will return to your country as if you had never left your base this morning."
"I refuse. I will take responsibility for my actions."
"And face a death sentence? Never see your wife or children again?" I thought her deal over once more. My family was the only reason I was in this war anyway. I need them. They need me. "Do we have a deal, mister Brooks?" I nodded lightly, shamed by what I was about to do.
"Good. Welcome to Reliable Excavation and Demolitions."
Author's Note:
Hey guys. I didn't make one of these last time because I really just wanted to see a reaction to my story. Wasn't much. So I just wanted to mention this time that I'd love some reviews, and to explain some minor/major details that some people might miss.
Basically, this story takes place after the original war, and that all of the original characters are gone. Now the Announcer keeps her little game going by making tournaments throughout the TF world, where people take on the bodies of the old characters, are grouped into many teams that will fight across all of the different maps. The losers will be killed off while the winners will have a special privilege. They will get to choose whether or not to fight in another tournament or go home to their families. This is where the story starts. Thanks for reading!