Off the Coast of Japan, on a desolate stretch of beach somewhere on the western coast of Japan, the ocean churned. A disturbance appeared in the water, which quickly resolved itself into a jet-black rectangular surface, slick with seawater. The waves washed over the rectangle, but it continued to rise out of the ocean, resolving itself into a boxy vehicle swiftly emerging from the ocean.

The box began to move toward shore, a wake appearing behind it. As it entered shallower water, a series of wheels on the bottom of the vehicle lowered down and began to spin against the compacted, rocky sand, pushing the vehicle out of the water and up the beach, to a place where only a few waves reached.

The Advanced SEAL Delivery System II vehicle opened, revealing the dimly lit interior of the craft.

A figure dressed all in black sprang out of the vehicle as a wave receded, sweeping the beach with his AK-47 assault rifle. He was dressed in the latest Chinese articulated body armor, and carried a wide range of devices on his person.

Moments after Sergeant Michael exited the craft, Philip followed. He scanned his surroundings, but no one was there, just as planned.

The eight other SEALs on the mission quickly disembarked, two pairs of them carrying crates of heavy weapons between them. The rest of the elite operators moved to secure the beach as the ASDS II slid back beneath the waves.

The site for this portion of the mission had been chosen well. There were no houses along the shoreline, only a single lonely road, which had been strategically blocked by CIA paramilitary agents felling trees where the road dipped further inland. It had been confirmed by aircraft that no one was walking the beach for miles in either direction, and the rising tide would soon wipe away the footprints of the SEALs.

The operators moved into two single-file lines as they moved up the beach and out of the tide zone, the last man in each column strategically shuffling his feet to scuff up the trail left by the men ahead of him.

Up the beach, behind the sand dunes separating the road from the beach, two vehicles waited. They were black vans, procured by Delta Force agents of Asian extraction who had been infiltrated prior to the mission.

The SEALs advanced up the beach, not braking formation until they reached the waiting vans. The team carrying the crate of heavy weapons loaded one through the tailgate of each vehicle while the other SEALs loaded onto the vehicles via the side doors.

When the last of the five men loading into each vehicle was aboard, the doors slammed shut, and the vehicles slowly began to drive into the darkness, headlights sole spots of light on the lonely beach road.

In all, mere moments had passed since the ASDS II had first breached the surface of the ocean. The vans drove out of sight of the stretch of beach, and once more all was quiet.

Break

"You know." John said. "They really don't make these seats for guys in body armor. They really should."

Gabriel sighed. "That doesn't make any sense. Why in the world would they do that?"

"Just think about it. The reasons should be obvious."

The team of SEALs sat in the back of the van, all cradling various weapons. Philip, Gabriel, and Sergeant Michael all carried AKs. John carried an M60 light machine gun and boxes of ammunition for it. All the weapons used 7.62mm cartridges, and the ammunition they were issued had been prepared such that it could be used by any of the weapons the squad possessed. It was a small thing, but sometimes those were the difference between victory and defeat.

And given the risks if this mission failed, defeat was not an option, to an even greater extent than normal. If the team was caught, it could destroy diplomatic relations between the U.S. and Japan, crippling America's power in the Far East.

Sergeant Michael pulled something out from under his seat. It was a box of wet wipes. He one out of the box and began wiping down the boots of his armor.

"Never took you for the neat freak type, Sergeant." John said.

Michael rolled his eyes. "That's not it. Don't you think it just might be a little odd if beach sand was found in a factory miles inland? Given what they can do today, they might even be able to use it to track down which beach we came ashore on. And then if they look at their records of where the Anchorage has been on patrol, they might just put two and two together and figure us out."

"I see." John said. "Then pass me one of those when you're done."

The Sergeant smiled and passed the box.

Philip took a wipe and began cleaning off his boots, being sure to get between the treads where sand had lodged.

"So, gentlemen, let's review the plan." Michael said. "The computer people will drop some of the security of the facility, and the CIA team will cut the communions to the factory, then we move in. Bravo Section will advance to the front gate and enter, while we enter through the back door. Assuming the maps of the factory we found are correct, we then advance to the storage room near the center of the facility. The drugs should be there, and we have the explosives to recover them if necessary."

"What if the blueprints aren't accurate?" Philip asked.

"Then we advance through the facility and attempt to capture a prisoner to determine where the drugs are located."

"I see." Philip said. "What sort of opposition are we expecting?"

"There should be guards at the facility, but nothing we can't handle. They just had a break-in close to two weeks ago, so expect them to be on a higher alert status than usual. However, they weren't expecting to have to deal with us."

"Exactly." Gabriel said. "They should be poorly armed and unarmored, but they'll know the terrain and have the advantage of numbers. Stay on guard."

Break

"So," Kazumi said. "What do you want to do now, Ryouta?"

"Don't even try, Kazumi." Ryouta said, exasperated.

The girls were laying out futons in the observatory and preparing to go to bed. It had been a late night of stargazing, and everyone was tired. Kuroha was in the process of tucking Kana into her futon, and Kotori was already lying down.

Kana gasped.

"I had a forecast!" Kana's voice synthesizer said.

"What was it?" Kuroha asked, a shocked expression on her face. "Who's going to die?"

"A lot of people are going to die. Violently." Kana said.

"Where?" Kazumi asked.

"At the Dresden Pharmaceuticals facility in Takayama." Kana said. "The one you raided for the drugs a few weeks ago."

"How are they going to die?" Ryouta asked, concern carved into his face. "Is it some kind of Witch experiment?"

"No, they're going to be shot!" Kana said. "I saw soldiers raiding the facility."

"Soldiers? Were they JSDF?"

"I couldn't tell." Kana said. There was no tone in her voice, but if there was, Ryouta imagined that she would sound annoyed. "They were wearing black body armor and nothing else. No insignias."

Ryouta frowned. "When will this happen."

"In fifteen minutes." Kana said.

"There's no way we could get there in time." Ryouta said, still frowning. "And that's assuming that we even wanted to."

"If the facility is being raided, I might be able to do something to help whoever's attacking, or at least see what's going on." Kazumi said, walking over to the observatory computer and sitting down.

"Are we sure we want to do that, though?" Ryouta asked, "What about when we run out of drugs? What if we need to get more from there."

"That'll never work." Kazumi said, booting up the computer. "They've doubled the security since our raid. The facility is guarded by fifty men!"

Then where are we going to get more pills? Ryouta though. "If you do something to disrupt their security, can it be traced back here?"

"Of course not." Kazumi said, reaching forward and picking up two cables. "I took down their security once before, didn't I?"

"I suppose."

Kazumi plugged the cables into a pair of specially designed ports on the back of her harnest and activated her magic. Her skin began to glow slightly, and digital script floated in the air around her.

After a few tense moments, she spoke. "I'm in."

Ryouta was so focused on watching Kazumi work, he didn't notice Kuroha walking up behind him. "Ryouta, what's happening?" She asked, laying her hand on his shoulder..

"Kazumi is trying to do something to help the people raiding the Takayama factory." He said, placing his hand over hers.

Kuroha shook her head. "That's not what I mean. These soldiers raiding the facility, what could they be doing? What is going on? The lab is supposed to be a secret."

"I don't know." Ryouta answered. "Given the nature of the situation, either they're terrorists or Special Forces, most likely. I've read a few books on both. If Kazumi can get us a visual feed, then I might be able to identify them."

Kotori walked over and stood next to Ryouta and Kuroha. "I could switch places with someone near the factory and see what's going on."

"Then how would you get back?" Ryouta said, raising an eyebrow. "Plus, what would we do with the person you switched places with? Besides, you might get caught in the crossfire."

"Oh." Kotori said, sounding crestfallen. "I thought I could help."

"If you want to help, Kotori, get me a drink." Kana said.

"Oh, ok." Kotori rushed out of the room and down the stairs to the bottom floor of the observatory.

"Geez." Kana said. "She's so airheaded sometimes."

Kazumi's eyes widened. "There's a cyberattack on the Dresden factory! A big one! It's originating in..." She narrowed her eyes, "China. That's odd."

"What would the Chinese want with Dresden Pharmaceuticals?" Ryouta muttered, placing his hand on his chin.

"It's not necessarily the Chinese." Kazumi said, not looking away from her computer. "The attack could be directed remotely and simply connected to the internet through a node in China. It could be anyone.

Break

The vans came to a halt, and the SEALs began to disembark.

Philip hopped out of the van behind Sergeant Michael, glad for the chance to stretch his legs. He held his rifle to his shoulder and looked around.

The vans had stopped just off-road in a forested area near the facility. They were surrounded by trees on all sides, and a fence topped by barbed wire was visible at the top of a rise near the road.

The back doors of the vans opened, and the SEALs began claiming heavy weapons from the crate. Philip was passed a pack of demolitions and blasting equipment. He began breaking down the pack and distributing it over the various straps provide on his armor. He was carrying a lot of explosives, and it was heavy, but he was well trained, and hopefully would be able to place some of the explosives soon.

"Alright," Sergeant Michael said, waving his arm forward. "Let's move out."

The SEALs walked forward and climbed the hill. At the top, two men with bolt cutters moved forward and began cutting a hole in the fence. The powerful tools made short work of the widely-spaced chain-link fence, and the operators advanced.

They walked through the the forest in twos, each pair covering the others. They moved quietly but quickly, making minimal noise as they moved through the undergrowth. After a few minutes of walking, they came to a short decline in the ground, beyond which was the factory.

It was a massive, block-like building, topped by a radio array adorned with blinking red lights. The SEALs stopped just short of the tree line, fanning out into a loose formation.

"Prepare to move on my signal." Michael said, as the rest of the squad fell into formation. He held up three fingers, then two, then one. He waved forward.

The SEALs charged forward, the squad splitting into two sections as it advanced. They had chosen their approach vector based on the shortest distances in the open to their objectives, but moving through open space was always risky.

As he ran, Philip passed several cameras, their glassy eyes rendered blind by the technological attack launched on the factory. It was fortunate that the cyber attack had been successful, or else the mission would have to be scrubbed, and all the risk they had taken so far would be for nothing.

The group ran through the disabled security zones of the factory, weapons at the ready. It was unfortunate, but at this point, they could afford no resistance. Anyone who came out with their hands up might be taken prisoner and clubbed unconscious, but any hint of resistance would be met with a hail of gunfire. They couldn't afford any clear witnesses, and any person at the facility could potentially be a magic user. How could they take any chances when anyone here could potentially cut the entire squad to ribbons with a simple act of will?

Not that the facts made the prospect any easier for Philip to stomach.

Though they had chosen the space that offered the shortest distance to the objectives, Alpha Section had further to go than Bravo Section. Philip felt a brief flash of jealousy as the Bravo Section SEALs peeled off from his unit to run to their objective.

His squad continued to their objective, one of the many emergency personnel exits cut into the solid exterior wall of the factory. Alpha Section reached their objective a good fifteen or twenty seconds after Bravo Section.

As the section piled into the alcove surrounding the door, Sergeant Michael took a look at the heavy steel door set into the concrete wall.

"Philip, remove that from my world." He said, gesturing the new member of the team forward.

Based on the intel they had, the doors would still be physically locked when the team arrived, and would probably be too strong to batter down expediently. Therefore, explosive entry was required.

Philip was already moving into position. He carried PVV-5A Plastic Explosives, a Russian plastic explosive that commonly found its way into the hands of the enemies of the West. The chemical markers in the explosive had been fudged to make the explosive hard to source, but there were only so many plants mixing PVV-5A, and when you looked at who owned them... Certain inferences became very easy to draw.

Once at the door, Philip examined the structure. The door was attached to the wall by a pair of sturdy hinges, and a large digital lock covered the knob. The cyber attack would have rendered the lock temporarily useless, but most devices of that type defaulted to locking when they were compromised.

The hinges were likely very resilient, but given that this wasn't a bank vault, were unlikely to possess their own locking mechanisms, so Philip opted to ignore them. He placed a small amount of explosive on the knob, under the digital lock, followed by a copper cone to focus the blast.

He waved the team back as he placed a blasting cap into the explosive mixture, then took a few steps backwards himself. Philip took cover behind the corner separating the alcove from the field outside the factory. The heavy concrete would provide some protection from the blast, and given the small amount of explosives he was using, distance would do the rest.

"Firing," Philip muttered, and pressed the button on the detonator.

For a moment, nothing happened, just long enough to make Philip wonder if he had done something wrong. Then there was a loud cracking sound, and a concussion washed over Philip and the rest of the section, and a wave of dust billowed out from the alcove.

The moment the blast was clear, Sergeant Michael waved John forward into the cloud of dust. The rest of the section followed.

When Philip was inside, he watched as the door slowly swung open from the recoil from the blast wave, a neat hole cut in it where the knob and lock had been.

"Nice work." John said, tilting his head toward Philip. "Bangman?"

"To on the nose." Gabriel responded. "Plus, there are the unfortunate implications."

"Fine." John said.

"Let's get moving." Michael said. "Everyone and their mother heard that explosion."

Philip took the point position moving through the door, and the rest of the section followed.

"Elevator to Hell," Gabriel muttered, "going down."

The section moved into the space beyond the blown door. It appeared to be some form of manufacturing space, confirming the notion that they had opened an emergency exit. The SEALs fanned out as they entered, their guns covering all angles of the spaces.

The door was located in a corner, with a solid concrete wall on one side and a long row of pipes and machines parallel to the wall, forming a long row down which the team could advance.

We won't want to split up any further. Philip though, which means...

"Move to the next row over and advance." Michael ordered, gesturing.

The SEAL team moved past the long row of equipment and into a long open space formed by two such walls. They began to advance down the row, Nathan at point, with Michael and John behind him, and the two remaining SEALs covering either side. It was an optimum formation for a sub-optimal situation, making the best usage of the available cover.

As the section advanced down the row, the sound of a door bursting open echoed through the chamber, followed by short, angry shouts in Japanese.

"Cover the exit." On said, or so Philip believed. His Japanese skills were somewhat sub-par, and he was still working up to full fluency when the order for the raid came down.

"Got it," came the response.

Philip made a beeline for the nearest wall of the corridor and raised his rifle. He wasn't a moment too soon. A man came into sight his features indistinct in the dim light of the factory interior. He was wearing the uniform of a security guard, complete with a emblem on his shoulder, but he carried a distinctly non-standard long gun with a sickle clip.

The man spotted the SEALs, shouted, and began to turn, raising his rifle as he did so.

Philip was faster.

With reflexes born of hundreds of hours of breacher training, he snapped his gun into firing position and let off a short, three round burst.

The first bullet went wide, but the second two were on target and the security guard, who wasn't armored nearly as heavily as the SEALs, went down screaming.

The section continued to advance, taking up cover positions at the edge of the row, the wall of machinery between them and any potential enemies.

Michael waved John forward, and he rounded the corner, M60 at the ready. Philip followed him, rifle at his shoulder.

There were three guards standing beyond the corner, guns at the ready, apparently preparing to advance down the row adjacent to the one the SEALs had used. They began to turn to engage the intruders, but John never gave them the chance. He opened up with his heavy gun, sweeping a stream of projectiles across the group.

"DEMOCRACY, you third world Commie bastards!" He shouted as the last of the guards went down and he raised his gun.

Philip continued around the corner and spotted a fifth security guard, who was just turning around and spotting the bodies of his fallen comrades. Not giving him a chance to raise his gun, Philip drew a quick bead and fired a short burst, dropping the man in a spray of blood.

I just killed a man Philip thought as he reloaded his gun. I just killed someone.

As the new magazine clicked home, Philp shook himself out of his brief reprieve. There would be more than enough time to think about what he had just done on the ride back to the submarine. For now, he had a mission to finish.

As the rest of the squad rounded the corner and took up positions, Gabriel leaned toward John.

"By the way," he muttered, not taking his eyes off his designated sector, "None of that was accurate.

The team of SEALs advanced to the inner door and took up positions around it, rifles at their shoulders. The inner doors weren't supposed to need to be blown open, but there was no telling what the intel people would have screwed up.

Philip approached the door carefully, and placed his gloved hand on the knob. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he turned the knob, then slammed the door open, jumping to the side as he did so to avoid the expected hail of gunfire.

None came.

With John covering him with his heavy gun, Philip advanced into the room beyond the door. It was a long corridor, with disturbingly little cover down its length. He advanced into it cautiously, with Thomas O'Malley, the fifth member of the section advancing behind him.

The section moved down the corridor, their specially designed boots barely making any sound as they walked. At the end of the hallway, they took up positions once more.

"How far is it to the mission objective, Sarge?" John said, leveling his machine gun at the door.

"There should be another manufacturing space on the other side of this door," the Sergeant said, "And then a strongbox room with the drugs in it. That's where we're meeting up with Bravo Section."

John nodded. "And that's where we use the explosives, right?"

"Yeah, we need to save some to use there." Philip said. "The drugs we need could be in a safe or strongbox."

"Let's breach this door." The sergeant said. "Breacher up."

Philip stepped up to the door and eyed it warily. It appeared to open inward, so that would limit his vision as he entered. He took a deep breath and readied himself to storm the room.

He flung the door open and charged in. There was one guard standing in the room, holding his rifle down, facing away from the door.

"What was that?" The guard said. "The intruders are where? Why-"

That was all he said as Philip dropped his rifle into his harness, drew his combat knife, and charged forward. The man started to turn around and open his mouth as Philip's first knife thrust took him in the lower chest.

The guard doubled up in pain and began to collapse as Philip hit him. Philip shoved his armored forearm into the man's mouth as he struck and bore him toward the floor, ensuring that he couldn't cry out.

As they hit the ground, the guard lashed out, knocking Philip's knife away from him. The rifle jammed into his chest, causing Philip to grunt in pain as he struggled with the guard. The man put up a fight, but Philip wrapped his other arm around the man's throat and began to choke him.

The pair of men tussled on the ground, but as they fought, the wound and lack of air steadily weakened the guard, and Philip quickly overcame him.

The guard stopped moving as the rest of the SEALs piled into the room. Philip stood up from the body of his victim, shaking slightly. He was a sight to behold, a faceless, blood-splattered specter all in black.

"Why did you do that?" Michael demanded, as he walked into the room.

"It was quieter than shooting him." Philip responded. "This way they don't know we're here."

"Fine." Michael said. "But don't drip that blood everywhere. The last thing we need to do is be leaving a trail."

The SEALs took up position once more. They were in another large manufacturing space, this one with walls scattered more haphazardly throughout it.

"Fan out as we advance." Michael said. "I don't want to lose everyone to one frag grenade."

The team compiled, spreading out as they advanced. Philip took cover behind an outcropping of pipes, ducking down to shelter himself from potential enemy fire. The rest of the section fell into place in a rough line, using machinery and pipeworks as cover.

They weren't a moment too soon. A second after John, the furthest advanced member of the section, reached cover, a hail of bullets shot over his head and began to ping against the machinery behind him.

A storm of gunfire quickly rose up, suppressive fire cracking by overhead, forcing the section to keep their heads down. In the enclosed space, the cacophony from the gunfire was nearly deafening.

"How the hell did they figure out where we are?" John shouted.

"I don't know." Michael responded, punctuating his statement with a short burst from his assault rifle. "John, try to lay down some counter fire. Philip, try to change positions!"

John nodded and, lifting his gun over his head, an impressive feat, began providing counter-suppressive fire. Almost immediately, the swarm of bullets whizzing by overhead began to slacken as the enemy was forced to seek cover of their own.

That was the moment Philip was waiting for. He darted out from behind his cover and dashed across the short gap separating it from the next section of piping over. He crouched behind it, clutching his rifle.

The moment John ducked down to reload, the barrage of gunfire overhead resumed its previous intensity. Disturbingly, a fraction of it was directed over Philip's new position.

"Damnit." He muttered, slinking to the side "How'd they find me so fast?"

He reached down to his belt and drew a Chinese frag grenade. They were under orders to avoid using them if at all possible, as they would reveal that the intruders to the facility were military. However, right now, Philip didn't feel as if he had much choice. Philip pulled the pin on the grenade and tossed it over his barricade counting as he did so.

The explosion came several seconds later, and the gunfire cut off abruptly as a sudden burst of razor sharp metal ripped through the room, leaving a cloud of smoke in its wake. Philip dropped his rifle into his combat harness and vaulted over his cover, pulling the pin on another grenade as he did so. He tossed the grenade into the darkness, trying to keep his enemies on their feet. A second after the grenade left his hand, a bullet struck his breast plate, sending a sudden shock of pain through his shoulder.

Philip took up a new position, of cover just as the hail of bullets overhead resumed its full intensity, and looked down. The impact had been a glancing hit, and the bullet had struck a heavily armored section of his armor. He was fine.

As lead pinged against something behind him, Philip raised his rifle above the machine sheltering him and retaliated with a long burst of mostly unaimed gunfire. There was a scream, and the fire over his head thinned.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Philip popped up from behind his cover, another grenade at the ready. He spotted a cluster of security guards laying down fire on his comrades. He tossed the grenade at them, the ducked back down as the guards scrambled to get away from his grenade.

There was an explosion, and the gunfire finally began to slow down in earnest. Philip glanced out from the side of his cover as he reloaded and spotted something. A flash of movement on the side of the section, moving toward their rear.

"We're being outflanked!" Philip called, scrambling for a position that granted him cover from the angle of the new attackers. He found a corner where several pipes bent at a ninety degree angle. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.

Philip stuck his gun through a gap in the pipes and opened fire on the group attempting to outflank, aiming to force them to keep their heads down and stay in position. From the glances he could catch of the enemy, he appeared to be succeeding.

Abruptly, there was a whooshing sound, and then a rumble began to echo throughout the chamber. Philip's head snapped around and he spotted a streak of fire shoot across the room toward the distant security guards. A rocket launcher. Evidently, John had gotten bored of the gun battle.

The rocket struck with a massive explosion, many times the magnitude of the explosions from the grenades Philip had thrown. The sound was deafening as the blast wave washed over Philip's position, nearly stunning him with its force.

Philip looked up, catching sight of the devastated bodies of security guards and ruined machines, broken pipe sections, and other destroyed objects. Broken metal littered the site of the rocket strike, and one of the severed pipe sections was gushing water out onto the factory floor.

A long burst of gunfire came from the side where the guards had been attempting to outflank the SEAL section, followed by the explosion of a grenade. Then all was quiet.

"We're clear!" Sergeant Michael called. "Get moving, but stay on your toes!"

Philip stood up from his cover and began to advance down the room, staying close to cover as he did so. He kept expecting guards to burst through the door at the other end of the room, but nothing happened.

The SEALs reached the door, and Philip prepared to breach it. He turned the knob and smashed through the door, and was greeted by a sight unlike any other he had seen.

They appeared to be in the control room for the factory, near where the drugs would be stored. One wall was lined with screens connected to the security cameras, all of which were presently showing nothing but static.

An armed guard stood in the center of the room. Alex shot him down quickly and surveyed the rest of the space.

In the center of the room, a girl sat in a chair. It was a tall, high-back sort of chair, like the sort that would be expected from a Bond villain. She was blindfolded, and had long, flowing white hair. A Japanese woman in a business suit stood next to her, holding a portable radio.

"The intruders are... The intruders are here!" The girl screamed, and began to writhe in her restraints.

The woman looked at Philip and gasped, and reached toward the back of the girl's neck, lighting fast. Honestly, Philip had no idea how to respond, and probably couldn't have stopped her if he had known to try,

The girl's screams changed pitch, becoming much higher, and she began to melt in front of Alex. Her skin seemed to become a glistening surface, like a tan pudding, and then it began to flow off her body, features becoming indistinct as they flowed away, revealing more white goo beneath the surface of her body. Within seconds, nothing was left but a steaming, off-white puddle and a skeleton sitting in the chair in the same position the girl had occupied.

Philip looked on in shock. The woman smiled.

"You can do nothing to me. I have failed my mission." She said, looking at the young SEAL with a strange expression on her face.

For a long instant, Philip did nothing. Then he screamed, and emptied his magazine at the woman. She jerked in place as the bullets tore holes in her black blouse and blood splattered, then fell and Philip's magazine clicked empty.

The rest of the team advanced into the room, weapons at the ready. Philip sighed and looked at Sargent Michael.

"Area clear." He said.