Chapter 1 Edit
Omar Brown set off the C4 charges that he planted on the solid steel door that separated him from the small, circular weapons room.
As the door went flying off it's hinges, Omar, and the four other members of his squad rushed through the door.
"Put your hands in the air!" Omar shouted. "Get down on the ground!"
"Sir, the nuclear torpedo casings are protected by combination locks!"
"Jenkins! Hack the combination, now!" responded Omar.
Suddenly, one of the guards started shouting, "You'll never find the codes! Nothing will stand in our way, we will rise again, we w-"
"Got it. It was 0000 sir."
"Wow, how cliche, how do you feel now? Huh?"
"You son of a b-" the terrorist retorted, as a bullet passed through his head.
"Commander, behind you!" shouted Jenkins.
Five loud cracks split the air, as the soldiers collapsed to the ground.
The leader of the terrorists strode slowly into the room.
"Game over." He said, as he set off the nuclear torpedoes.
"Get up, the simulation is over! Return to your positions!"
The guards got up and went back to their position in the room. The soldiers stood up and saluted toward the man, who was actually their Commander, in charge of their training.
"Omar, stay in this room. Everyone else, go to the canteen and take five off.
Omar's squadmates hastily left the room, not waiting to hear the "oncoming storm."
Once they and the guards left the room, words came spilling like a torrent out of Omar's Commanding Officer's mouth.
"Always watch your back son! If you don't watch your back, you'll always fail the test!"
"Yes sir." Replied Omar slowly.
"Look son, I'm not mad at you, just very, very disappointed."
"Come with me to my office, I have to show you something."
As they started heading toward his office Omar started wondering, was he going to be kicked off the spec ops training program? The best he could hope for was a severe reprimand from the base commander, but he steeled his resolve, and prepared himself for the worst.
As they entered the room Omar saw a official-looking man in a white suit sitting in front of a wall of TV's.
"Sir!" Said the commander as he saluted to the man in the suit.
The man started speaking. "Hello Omar. Take a seat. We need your help."
"What help?" Replied Omar.
"All our agents are dead or have been captured. We need you assassinate the British Prime Minister."