CHAPTER FIVE: MISSION FAILURE?

Four Days Later – The Pit (Location Classified)

"We're coming to you live from the White House. The hostilities between the United States and Borovia have dramatically increased within the last twenty-four hours. In a breaking development, six American soldiers have been taken prisoner by one of the Borovian Warlords who claim that they were spies sent by the United States to gather information against their country. Information about the soldiers has yet to be released. Officials from the White House have not yet commented, but the Secretary of Defense is expected to make a statement within the hour about this situation…."

Snake-Eyes watched the television with disgust as the screen focused on an empty podium with several microphones hooked up and ready for its speaker. It seemed that once again, the Global Broadcasting Network informed him of the horrible news well before their very own intelligence did. This is not good. Which ones of us are they? Snake knew they were members of his team – that part wasn't hard to figure out, but the mission was so highly classified that he didn't have a guess as to who had been captured. All members of the unit were used to being either on alert or deployed to all corners of the Earth, typically involved in multiple American and Allied operations. From Operation Enduring Freedom to Operation Iraqi Freedom to operations classified so deep that no one back in the states even knew about them, it was the nature of the job.

And a daily occurrence. All he knew was that whoever the soldiers were, they were in serious trouble.

"Snake, what's wrong?" From across the room and walking towards Snake-Eyes, Scarlett could tell something was bothering him just by his posture alone. His arms were crossed and folded against his chest, but the muscles in his arms – she swore she could actually see the veins in his biceps even through his tight clothing – were flexed just as much as she'd ever seen. There were a few other signs she picked up on, but the raging muscles in his arms stood out the most. To her, at least. Scarlett turned her attention to the television screen, wondering what was making the normally calm and patient warrior so tight and upset.

"Oh, no, this is serious. They're ours, aren't they?" Shana asked with a grave concern, understanding the full levity of the situation.

Snake nodded, without so much as turning his head from the direction of the television.

"Do you have any idea who they are?"

Snake-Eyes shook his head no. Scarlett sorted through her mind all of the teammates that she'd grown close to the last few months, wondering which ones had been deployed – wondering if any of them were part of the captured.

"Something tells me we're going to be busy for a while and might not make it back to your cabin any time soon. But that's a small price to pay to get these guys back…"

Snake-Eyes nodded again, still watching the news report but remaining motionless.

After a couple of seconds, Snake-Eyes turned to Scarlett and motioned with his hands, *I'm guessing your first mission will come sooner than either of us expected. I have no doubts some of us will deploy searching for them. In case you're one of them, are you ready?* Trying to drive home the point, he deliberately exaggerated his hand signals when he motioned "you", pointing to Scarlett.

Scarlett nodded without hesitation. "I know I am. You know I am too." The last part normally would have been playful, but given the situation she said it plainly and without levity.

But she was right. Snake-Eyes already knew that she was genuinely prepared and mentally ready for her first mission… whenever that might come up. She seemed anxious – perhaps overly anxious just like all brand new recruits were – to serve her country and wanted nothing more than to help out her fellow teammates. Not just for the sake of proving herself, but because she genuinely cared. Scarlett had a heart of gold, there was no doubt.

He had to admit that he wasn't as excited as she was; after all, it was one of his very first missions that ended up permanently disfiguring him, so he knew the risks that a beginner would take. No matter how well prepared the rookie might be, they still lacked something that couldn't be replicated in the training simulations: Real life pressure and the risk of death. That kind of experience was the true way to tell how well one could hold up.

He also knew that tensions between the United States and Borovia were higher than ever, which made every single square inch of dirt in Borovia hostile grounds. All he could do was cross his fingers that she wouldn't be selected and sent on this particular mission. Of course, he wouldn't dare tell her that.

Or, at least if she had to be sent on a related mission, he had hoped that it wouldn't take her directly into Borovia. As one of the oldest veterans, he had no doubts that he would be going; but for this red-headed rookie, he honestly had no idea what her role would be to play, if any.

Borovia wasn't like the other countries. It wasn't long ago that it was once a superior European country, right up there with England, France, and Germany, but it was now reduced to chaos and disorder. Once the old government's regime collapsed like the U.S.S.R. some years back, several different factions were able to rise up and wrestle for control, essentially turning this once noble nation into a third-world undeveloped country. Borovia had practically been sent back to the Stone Age.

By the time the United Nations tried to intervene with humanitarian aid and security, it was too late; several different warlords had risen up and controlled the war-torn Borovia. The U.N., in an embarrassing position, pulled out of Borovia shortly after it had arrived. The country had become too dangerous and unstable – especially for outsiders.

Yet even the warlords were difficult to name and pinpoint since they were often overthrown by other violent factions of the country; it was common for a warlord to be in control of a section for only a few days before they themselves were murdered and overthrown. This made it difficult to figure out who was running each faction from day to day. It reminded Snake-Eyes of the chaos and lack of structure back during his time served in Afghanistan, back when he proudly fought in the United States Army.

Slowly, the television broadcast had been drawing more and more of a crowd. The room was soon filled with several others huddling around the broadcast, with everyone aware of what was going on and understanding how dire the situation was.

Low-Light spoke up. "I guess this means we'll be having a briefing soon. Does anyone know which six "Americans" of ours they have? I never heard anything about their mission."

Most of them shrugged, while a few uttered a quiet "no", but several of them had looked around at the others, desperately hoping someone knew the answer to his question.

Blowtorch had just entered the room, passing through and heading to the kitchen, completely oblivious to the current situation. Blowtorch, always hungry – and one who could smell out barbecue a mile away – was led by his nose. He couldn't help but ask, "Oh, man! Do I smell porkchop sandwiches? Roadblock in the kitchen?? Where my man at?"

"Shut up, man," Clutch told him, pointing to the television. "We're watching the news. Stop thinking with your stomach and check it out." Blowtorch stopped to watch what was going on; the direness of the situation and the dark grim reality had finally sunk in.

Clutch is here? And he's ignoring me? Shana became worried, realizing that for the first time ever, Clutch had been in the same room as her and avoided saying something completely and utterly sexist to her. Not worried because she enjoyed the attention – heavens, no, that was far from the case… but worried because the news on the television was serious enough to gather his full undivided attention and pull his eyes away from the female species. This wasn't the Clutch that she knew.

It was only recently when Shana first joined the team and Clutch had dared to – when no one else was around of course – call her… fire-crotch. She felt her cheeks turn red; she still got angry just thinking about it. Of course, that particular incident was the first time and the last time. He didn't walk upright for the next three days after she kneed him in the groin. A smile slowly crept up on her face, remembering how she dropped him down to the floor like a heavy sack of moldy potatoes. For the most part, he learned his lesson well, but even so he returned to his normal ways after about a week… or, at least a slightly toned down version. He'd flirt with her a little, and maybe call her "babe" or "honey", but never, never again called her… well, what he called her when he crossed the line. (And wouldn't you know, Snake-Eyes was never around when Clutch would hit on her…! She could only imagine what Snake would do to him…)

Scarlett was suddenly snapped back to reality as the news reporter on the television had suddenly been cut off…