11-28-2019, 03:33 AM
Duncan, Redeemer's Land, Zamastan
8:23 PM
Four Z.I.S. agents, dressed in tactical gear, perched at the top of a small, wooded hill overlooking a three-story military family apartment complex in the suburb of Duncan. Only the moon illuminated the agents, but even then it was near impossible to see them in their black garb. Armed with assault rifles and silencers attached, they had been laying in the bushes for roughly fifteen minutes. Waiting for any sight of their target, they had been sent out directly from Director Faulkman.
A fifth agent was positioned in the parking lot of the complex, waiting inside a rusted and inconspicuous sedan. A sixth was positioned outside the target's room, taking measurements and samples and reading with sophisticated equipment, checking for booby traps. The agents would not be able to enter the apartment room until the suspect was in custody, as according to search-and-seizure rules in Zamastan. A seventh and eighth agent were waiting across the hall inside the building, disguised as a couple living in that portion of the apartment. The family had been moved out early in the morning right after the target had left, and they were working in full cooperation with the agents - they had been told their neighbor was a suspected terrorist. Meanwhile, the target was being tailed from a distance for the entire day, waiting for the time for her to return to the apartment complex.
"Fanta A, this is Rebok." One of the agents, a burly man perched with the strike team on the hill spoke silently into the collective group intercom. He was assigned group command for the mission to arrest the suspect. "Update on target position."
A voice quietly responded, "we're about two minutes out. Target is still on route back to the intercept point. Still trailing, about fifty meters behind. There is a truck in between us but we have tracker status."
"Got it, stand by." Rebok changed focus to the agents inside the building. "Anything to note?"
"Sir, the viscam is grainy in here," the agent, a man named Marc, taking measurements responded. "I can't confirm any booby traps or wires running the floor, but I can't conclude that there aren't any. We may have to wait until the suspect is back, copy?"
"Can't confirm," Rebok stated back, "let me think quickly." Rebok set his coms system and his rifle down, and pulled up a low-light image of the apartment's construction plan and layout. The entrance to the apartment, where the agent was situated outside of, entered into a large living room. If the layout was correct, a kitchen island would be in between the windows which faced the strike team outside and faced parallel to a bedroom and a bathroom. The apartment was shaped like a stubbed "L", but despite the open space, it had plenty of obstacles for hiding weapons or explosives - the main concern of the team.
"Rebok," the quiet voice squeaked over the intercom, "target is thirty seconds from the parking lot. Are we engaging in the parking lot or in the building?"
"Building, if she enters, there are no traps. Just wait till she enters."
"Yessir, target is turning."
Rebok picked up his rifle and retook his position with his fellow agents. "Heads up. She's here."
[/hr]
Corporal Whitney Seet pulled into her apartment parking lot. The yellowish lights of the lot's three lampposts illuminated the parking spaces and resident vehicles in an ugly cigaretted glow. She positioned her car into her usual space, the exact center of the lot, and sat back in her seat. Her head had been pounding for the last several days. She was having a series of panic attacks as she figured her mission was finally in its final stages. Since her activation, she had been waiting for the completion of the Z3 program. Now that it was complete, she just needed to download a final schematic. In the morning, she would be back at the military base. Back to work, a normal soldier working on a not-so-normal program, but with the trust of all of her superiors. Tomorrow would be the day she finally finished her mission and would leak the information and diagnostics of not only the most advanced fighter jet in the world, but the in-depth details of Zamastan's aircraft carriers, next generation tanks, ballistic missiles, nuclear energy programs, and the personal databases of every individual involved in the Z3 Program. The pressure was getting to her, and she longed for mission's completion in the morning.
As she pulled the handle to her car, she stepped out into the warm night air, wincing in mild disgust at the mosquitoes twirling around in the air. She walked to the apartment, turning her head to scan the parking lot as she had done every night since her activation. A car pulled into the lot and parked as she opened the door to the building, and a couple in the car looked like they were laughing together. Whitney smiled. These people had no clue she was different.
[/hr]
Rebok spoke into the intercom aggresively. "Marc, target is walking up the stairs! Get out of the hallway!"
"I'm working on it, Rebok. Garrett, open your door, let me in." Marc stood and tucked his equipment away, just as Garrett, one of the agents in the room across the hall, opened the door. Marc entered and joined the two agents inside, shutting the door right as the suspect reached the step landing.
[/hr]
Whitney heard a door close on her floor. Impulsively, she paused at the top of the step, and looked down the hall. It was probably just the couple across the hall, but wouldn't she have seen them coming into the building, she thought...
[/hr]
Agents Garrett, Marc, and a woman agent who went by the codename Blue, all in tactical gear, pressed themselves to the apartment door, waiting for the sound of the suspect's door to open. The agents were holding their breath.
[/hr]
Whitney stepped quietly to her door, peering cautiously at the floor at neighbors door. She saw shadows intersecting the soft light coming from the crack between the door and the floor.
[/hr]
Garrett whispered below an octave to Blue, "move up, step one. Take point." Blue re-positioned herself, pistol trained at the doorknob.
[/hr]
The shadows on the floor moved. Whitney's brain snapped. She cursed under her breath. She quickly grabbed the door handle and pushed in.
[/hr]
"Go."
Blue pushed the door open into the hallway, raising her pistol in a quick strike towards the suspect.
[/hr]
Whitney's hand was already on her firearm which she grabbed from the top of the coat-rack. Spinning and extending her arm outwards into the hallway, she squeezed down on the trigger. Four shots rang out into the hallway, striking the wall and the door, Whitney watching as the tactical geared men in the opposite room ducked back and swung their rifles and pistols into the air towards her. As they recovered and began to fire back, she sprinted into her apartment, jumping over a thin wire stretching the walls, and ducked behind the kitchen island.
[/hr]
"GO! GO! ENGAGE!" Rebok shouted, as he heard the gunshots muffle themselves from the apartment. The team on the hill opened fire down into the kitchen windows.
[/hr]
The glass behind Whitney exploded inwards, bullets striking across the living room. She tucked herself behind the space of the island in between the window and the wall. She reached inside the cupboard, revealing a semi-auto handgun, and holding her breath.
[/hr]
Agent Marc took two steps into the apartment as the gunfire ceased, gun raised. Peering around the corner, he saw no sight of the target.
"Cover me," he said back to Garrett and Blue, and continued forward.
He stepped down, foot pressing the thin, nearly invisible wire to the floor.
[/hr]
A massive explosion ruptured into the hallway of the apartment complex, and Whitney found her chance. She ducked down and ran across the open space of her living room and into her bedroom. Slamming her heavy door shut, she propped up her mattress against the entrance and jammed a chair under the knob. Focusing her attention to the laptop at her desk, she opened up a tab and inserted a USB drive into the side socket.
"This should do for now, damn it," she whispered to herself. The mission would have to end a day early.
All of the Z3 Program details that she had gotten thus far, over the past year and a half, was about to leak onto the open internet.
[/hr]
"What happened?" Rebok shouted over the intercom. "No visual, everything is smoke. Are you ok?"
Blue, bloodied and head pounding, opened her eyes. She had been thrown back by the blast. She put her hand to her head, and she could feel her intercom button under the warm running fluid that was sticking to her face.
"Two agents down," she said, looking around in the smokey space. The walls of the hallway had been ripped apart, and there was no sign of Garrett or Marc.
"Sending agents in, coming," Rebok responded.
Three agents - two from the strike team on the hill and the one positioned from the parking lot, appeared seconds later on the floor landing, stepping carefully as they closed in on the now chaotically damaged apartment. One tended to Blue as the other two turned the corner in the apartment to see the bedroom door.
"She's in there. Engaging."
[/hr]
"100% complete", the computer screen read. Whitney grunted, and she looked back to the door. Thuds were muffled thanks to the mattress, but she knew some agents were trying to break into the door. It would only be a few moments until they broke through. Whitney walked to the door and stuck her pistol to the wall, firing through the plaster.
[/hr]
"Get back!" The agents ducked down as the plaster of the wall tore apart with each gun shot.
Rebok entered the apartment, head lowered and taking cover behind the kitchen island. "We need her alive, be careful!"
[/hr]
"We need her alive, be careful!" Whitney heard the agents through the wall. That wouldn't be possible. Whitney moved herself over to the desk once again, opening a drawer and reaching in, grasping a wire and pulling up hard. The wire broke a pin of a grenade stack hidden behind the desk, and only a second later...
[/hr]
The wall blew open, blasting the agents back, and causing a partial collapse of the floor. Rebok covered his face, absorbing much of the debris with his arm. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and revealed his face, looking around as he and the other two agents recovered from the floor, looking around and down into the shallow hole caused by the collapsed apartment.
The agents were able to recover the remains of Corporal Whitney Seet and the remains of her computer. Unlike the computer, they would be unable to get information out of Seet.
8:23 PM
Four Z.I.S. agents, dressed in tactical gear, perched at the top of a small, wooded hill overlooking a three-story military family apartment complex in the suburb of Duncan. Only the moon illuminated the agents, but even then it was near impossible to see them in their black garb. Armed with assault rifles and silencers attached, they had been laying in the bushes for roughly fifteen minutes. Waiting for any sight of their target, they had been sent out directly from Director Faulkman.
A fifth agent was positioned in the parking lot of the complex, waiting inside a rusted and inconspicuous sedan. A sixth was positioned outside the target's room, taking measurements and samples and reading with sophisticated equipment, checking for booby traps. The agents would not be able to enter the apartment room until the suspect was in custody, as according to search-and-seizure rules in Zamastan. A seventh and eighth agent were waiting across the hall inside the building, disguised as a couple living in that portion of the apartment. The family had been moved out early in the morning right after the target had left, and they were working in full cooperation with the agents - they had been told their neighbor was a suspected terrorist. Meanwhile, the target was being tailed from a distance for the entire day, waiting for the time for her to return to the apartment complex.
"Fanta A, this is Rebok." One of the agents, a burly man perched with the strike team on the hill spoke silently into the collective group intercom. He was assigned group command for the mission to arrest the suspect. "Update on target position."
A voice quietly responded, "we're about two minutes out. Target is still on route back to the intercept point. Still trailing, about fifty meters behind. There is a truck in between us but we have tracker status."
"Got it, stand by." Rebok changed focus to the agents inside the building. "Anything to note?"
"Sir, the viscam is grainy in here," the agent, a man named Marc, taking measurements responded. "I can't confirm any booby traps or wires running the floor, but I can't conclude that there aren't any. We may have to wait until the suspect is back, copy?"
"Can't confirm," Rebok stated back, "let me think quickly." Rebok set his coms system and his rifle down, and pulled up a low-light image of the apartment's construction plan and layout. The entrance to the apartment, where the agent was situated outside of, entered into a large living room. If the layout was correct, a kitchen island would be in between the windows which faced the strike team outside and faced parallel to a bedroom and a bathroom. The apartment was shaped like a stubbed "L", but despite the open space, it had plenty of obstacles for hiding weapons or explosives - the main concern of the team.
"Rebok," the quiet voice squeaked over the intercom, "target is thirty seconds from the parking lot. Are we engaging in the parking lot or in the building?"
"Building, if she enters, there are no traps. Just wait till she enters."
"Yessir, target is turning."
Rebok picked up his rifle and retook his position with his fellow agents. "Heads up. She's here."
[/hr]
Corporal Whitney Seet pulled into her apartment parking lot. The yellowish lights of the lot's three lampposts illuminated the parking spaces and resident vehicles in an ugly cigaretted glow. She positioned her car into her usual space, the exact center of the lot, and sat back in her seat. Her head had been pounding for the last several days. She was having a series of panic attacks as she figured her mission was finally in its final stages. Since her activation, she had been waiting for the completion of the Z3 program. Now that it was complete, she just needed to download a final schematic. In the morning, she would be back at the military base. Back to work, a normal soldier working on a not-so-normal program, but with the trust of all of her superiors. Tomorrow would be the day she finally finished her mission and would leak the information and diagnostics of not only the most advanced fighter jet in the world, but the in-depth details of Zamastan's aircraft carriers, next generation tanks, ballistic missiles, nuclear energy programs, and the personal databases of every individual involved in the Z3 Program. The pressure was getting to her, and she longed for mission's completion in the morning.
As she pulled the handle to her car, she stepped out into the warm night air, wincing in mild disgust at the mosquitoes twirling around in the air. She walked to the apartment, turning her head to scan the parking lot as she had done every night since her activation. A car pulled into the lot and parked as she opened the door to the building, and a couple in the car looked like they were laughing together. Whitney smiled. These people had no clue she was different.
[/hr]
Rebok spoke into the intercom aggresively. "Marc, target is walking up the stairs! Get out of the hallway!"
"I'm working on it, Rebok. Garrett, open your door, let me in." Marc stood and tucked his equipment away, just as Garrett, one of the agents in the room across the hall, opened the door. Marc entered and joined the two agents inside, shutting the door right as the suspect reached the step landing.
[/hr]
Whitney heard a door close on her floor. Impulsively, she paused at the top of the step, and looked down the hall. It was probably just the couple across the hall, but wouldn't she have seen them coming into the building, she thought...
[/hr]
Agents Garrett, Marc, and a woman agent who went by the codename Blue, all in tactical gear, pressed themselves to the apartment door, waiting for the sound of the suspect's door to open. The agents were holding their breath.
[/hr]
Whitney stepped quietly to her door, peering cautiously at the floor at neighbors door. She saw shadows intersecting the soft light coming from the crack between the door and the floor.
[/hr]
Garrett whispered below an octave to Blue, "move up, step one. Take point." Blue re-positioned herself, pistol trained at the doorknob.
[/hr]
The shadows on the floor moved. Whitney's brain snapped. She cursed under her breath. She quickly grabbed the door handle and pushed in.
[/hr]
"Go."
Blue pushed the door open into the hallway, raising her pistol in a quick strike towards the suspect.
[/hr]
Whitney's hand was already on her firearm which she grabbed from the top of the coat-rack. Spinning and extending her arm outwards into the hallway, she squeezed down on the trigger. Four shots rang out into the hallway, striking the wall and the door, Whitney watching as the tactical geared men in the opposite room ducked back and swung their rifles and pistols into the air towards her. As they recovered and began to fire back, she sprinted into her apartment, jumping over a thin wire stretching the walls, and ducked behind the kitchen island.
[/hr]
"GO! GO! ENGAGE!" Rebok shouted, as he heard the gunshots muffle themselves from the apartment. The team on the hill opened fire down into the kitchen windows.
[/hr]
The glass behind Whitney exploded inwards, bullets striking across the living room. She tucked herself behind the space of the island in between the window and the wall. She reached inside the cupboard, revealing a semi-auto handgun, and holding her breath.
[/hr]
Agent Marc took two steps into the apartment as the gunfire ceased, gun raised. Peering around the corner, he saw no sight of the target.
"Cover me," he said back to Garrett and Blue, and continued forward.
He stepped down, foot pressing the thin, nearly invisible wire to the floor.
[/hr]
A massive explosion ruptured into the hallway of the apartment complex, and Whitney found her chance. She ducked down and ran across the open space of her living room and into her bedroom. Slamming her heavy door shut, she propped up her mattress against the entrance and jammed a chair under the knob. Focusing her attention to the laptop at her desk, she opened up a tab and inserted a USB drive into the side socket.
"This should do for now, damn it," she whispered to herself. The mission would have to end a day early.
All of the Z3 Program details that she had gotten thus far, over the past year and a half, was about to leak onto the open internet.
[/hr]
"What happened?" Rebok shouted over the intercom. "No visual, everything is smoke. Are you ok?"
Blue, bloodied and head pounding, opened her eyes. She had been thrown back by the blast. She put her hand to her head, and she could feel her intercom button under the warm running fluid that was sticking to her face.
"Two agents down," she said, looking around in the smokey space. The walls of the hallway had been ripped apart, and there was no sign of Garrett or Marc.
"Sending agents in, coming," Rebok responded.
Three agents - two from the strike team on the hill and the one positioned from the parking lot, appeared seconds later on the floor landing, stepping carefully as they closed in on the now chaotically damaged apartment. One tended to Blue as the other two turned the corner in the apartment to see the bedroom door.
"She's in there. Engaging."
[/hr]
"100% complete", the computer screen read. Whitney grunted, and she looked back to the door. Thuds were muffled thanks to the mattress, but she knew some agents were trying to break into the door. It would only be a few moments until they broke through. Whitney walked to the door and stuck her pistol to the wall, firing through the plaster.
[/hr]
"Get back!" The agents ducked down as the plaster of the wall tore apart with each gun shot.
Rebok entered the apartment, head lowered and taking cover behind the kitchen island. "We need her alive, be careful!"
[/hr]
"We need her alive, be careful!" Whitney heard the agents through the wall. That wouldn't be possible. Whitney moved herself over to the desk once again, opening a drawer and reaching in, grasping a wire and pulling up hard. The wire broke a pin of a grenade stack hidden behind the desk, and only a second later...
[/hr]
The wall blew open, blasting the agents back, and causing a partial collapse of the floor. Rebok covered his face, absorbing much of the debris with his arm. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and revealed his face, looking around as he and the other two agents recovered from the floor, looking around and down into the shallow hole caused by the collapsed apartment.
The agents were able to recover the remains of Corporal Whitney Seet and the remains of her computer. Unlike the computer, they would be unable to get information out of Seet.