Fantasticoe 2000 Contents
The Omega Project
His spot he had called home for three and a half days looked very uncomfortable, but very safe none the less. He knew that with his training and where he was positioned the only thing he would have to worry about was someone stepping on him. Being positioned on a remote African river-bend he knew even that was a very slim chance.
He looked like a
small hill about 2 or 3
high at times. His ghille suit that he was wearing took him hundreds of
hours to make. It started as a piece of camouflage netting, and he tied
strands of cloth, yarn and hair to it until it looked almost furry.
he dirtied it to match the pictures of the remote African wilderness
Army intelligence had given him. He had pockets on the inside for all
his food and ammunition. This cover made it capable for him to stay in
one spot for days. Although the person had to be up to the job, and he
was up for every one he had been assigned. His mental edge was the
factor in his exceptional skill.
"I know that with my rifle I am capable of taking a mans life. I also know that I could take that mans life as he was running 800 meters away in almost forty mile per hour winds," thought Trask to himself "I can kill an entire enemy camp before they even know I am out there."
In his mind he was the best, but he would never say it out loud. He thought of these facts everyday that he thought he might see some action. This kept him pumped up and alert, but most importantly it kept him from going insane from the hours of quiet.
Just then his earpiece rang with excitement, "Nest to Mother Bird Nest to Mother Bird come in Mother Bird "
Trask slowly flipped the switch on his radio and prepared to talk. "Nest go!" he replied in the most hushed whisper.
"Mother Bird ship on its way...2 clicks (2000 meters) away be ready," informed the voice on the radio.
"Objectives!? " again replied Trask shortly.
"Objectives as follows...kill anyone you see on the boat or that may interfere with mission main objective destroy weapon Omega thought to be carried on the boat ," stated the voice, "Repeat eliminate weapon Omega."
Trask knew the weapon that was mentioned. It was large and very powerful Ion Laser that was said to be in development by an ultra-secretive terrorist group. This laser could destroy any target in the air on in space, it was known as the Omega Project. If this target wasn't neutralized the group was feared to launch satellites that would allow them to angle the weapons beam back to any point on earth. Ultimately they could hold the world hostage and begin their rule. Just as it was named the ending letter of the Greek alphabet it would mean the end of the world if he were to fail.
"Roger that , " Replied Trask and then he was interrupted.
"Secondary target ," said the voice.
"Secondary target!?" he hissed back, "I was briefed only one target."
The radio continued as if it didn't hear him, "Secondary Target Xander Drax..if Drax is present he is moved to objective one repeat he is then objective one!"
It was almost ten minutes before Trask answered the radio calling out to him. He was in a daydream that took him back to his days as a drill sergeant. He knew exactly who Xander was and that he could be capable of quite a lot. He was a prized pupil gone A.W.O.L. after fifteen years in the U.S. Military and several commendations. He made his escape on a mission he shared with Sgt. Trask. It was very similar to other missions they had cooperated on in the past with one major difference. When they started firing Trask was immediately shot. The bullet tore away part of his vertebrae and lodged inside his spinal cord. He was instantly paralyzed and. All he remembered was Xander standing over him and bending over to look him in the eyes. Without a word he dropped the bullet casing on Sgt. Trask's chest and laughed as he walked away. It wasn't until this day that Trask knew of his whereabouts. By shooting Trask he could fake his death and start his own plans without anyone suspecting him. Little did he know that Trask did not die. For months Trask lay in a hospital bed as they waited for the culture of his spine to grow. To Trask this felt years gone by. He lay in the bed unable to move from the waist down, with the sheets under soaked in blood.
Finally, the culture had grown to the appropriate size and the doctors attached it to the hole in his back. After surgery it would take him several more months to get well. During the time his nightmare were unimaginable. He thought of the cold empty eyes belonging to Drax. The eyes that showed no sign of ill intent until it was too late and Trask was laying in the middle of no where bleeding to death. He other flashes of the helicopter ride home. He did know how he did it but he must have activated his homing device. Luckily his area was triangulated and he was reached in time.
"Nest this was not my mission..mission to eliminate enemy weapon, " argued Trask, but there was no reply from Nest. He understood what this meant. He was given orders and they were just that, orders he was told what to do and must now do it.
He had heard with the turn of the century Xander had set up an elaborate group of terrorists. So elaborate not a nation on earth had caught a member. They were thought to be responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing and the Egypt Air bombing. In these cases they either framed someone or were never held accountable. Xander had links to the IRA in Ireland, the FARC in Columbia, groups in the Balkans and several religious extremist groups in the Middle East. His plan was to use terrorism to gain power and momentum. As his strength grew he had planned to capture a small country and then another small country and then a bigger country until he was truly a global force.
It was all fitting together now. With a weapon like the Omega project, capable of this type of destruction, Drax could, very quickly, move towards his goal of domination. Trask knew that he must put his past behind him and focus on his objectives. If he failed it could mean the loss of millions of lives. No airplane would be safe and the recently started UN space colony would be in a dire situation.
"Nest this was not my mission mission to eliminate enemy weapon," argued Trask, but there was no reply from Nest. He understood what this meant. He was given orders and they were just that orders, he was told what to do and must now do it.
He had heard with the turn of the century Xander had set up a very elaborate group of terrorists. So elaborate not a nation on earth had caught a member. They were thought to be responsible for the Oklahoma City bombing and the Egyptian Air bombing. In these cases they either framed someone or were never held accountable. He had links to the IRA in Ireland, the FARC in Columbia, groups in the Balkans and several religious extremist groups in the Middle East. His plan was to use terrorism to gain power and momentum. As his strength grew he had planned to capture a small country and then another small country and then a bigger country until he was truly a global force.
It was all
fitting together now. With a
like the Omega project, capable of this type of destruction, Drax
very quickly, move towards his goal of domination. Trask knew that he
put his past behind him and focus on his objectives. If he failed it
mean the loss of millions of lives. No airplane would be safe and the
started UN space colony would be in a dire situation.
It wasn't long before the sound of diesel engines broke the afternoon silence. Up to now the only sounds Trask heard where that of the running river and the whistling wind. He looked off to his left and squinted as he searched for the source of this man made noise. Just clearing the bend was the boat he had been waiting so diligently for. Laying in the prone position he extended his gun barrel at a snails pace toward the distant boat. He had done nothing to give up his position yet, and he wasn't about to become jumpy and careless. Carefully bringing his gun's scope to his eye he peered at the ship. It was just coming around a ninety-degree corner in the river. It seemed almost an unnatural course for a river, but it was perfect for him. He was slightly elevated and had a clear view of the ship. There was no wind and the sun was on its way down. The conditions were becoming quite favorable for his line of work.
The boat was coming much closer now and he was getting a good look at the whole thing. It was a typical freighter that could be seen traveling most of the rivers in these parts. It was about the size of a colonial sailboat. It had lots of below-deck space that would more than adequately accommodate the laser. Two guards were at the front of the boat and two in the back, from what he could see. The ship was chugging straight towards him now, with billowing black smoke coming from the smokestacks. He could hear the old, worn out engines very clearly now. By the time the ship had reached the distance by which he chose to engage it was nightfall. This didn't bother Trask whatsoever. He knew that this, most certainly, would make things easier for him. He carefully and slowly switched the scope on his rifle, putting on his heat sensitive site would allow him to see through the boat's hull and learn what opposition was below deck. As he looked at the boat this way, everything looked green except for the people, they were a glowing red due to their body heat. Again scanning the boat, he found several people below deck, but this was what he had expected. He quietly slid a clip into his gun and began to prepare him self.
The two in the back would be the first to go and then those in the control room, and finally the two men up front. For Trask this was common procedure. By shooting from the back to the front, no one knows anyone is down, and the targets stay where you want them. To Trask this was as simple as a little boy shooting pop cans with his BB gun. He carefully popped a couple of Diazepam pills to slow his heart and any wobble any wobble his body might produce that would effect his aiming. Setting his aim on the first unlucky soul he readied himself for the quick second shot. Although no one on the upper deck of this boat would know he killed these two, the second man he will shoot would see his partner fall and become alarmed.
Trask adjusted his site until he had the first man's head in his cross hairs. The man was lighting a cigarette. "Smoking will kill ya'." Trask said, as he squeezed off the first round. No sooner had the bullet shattered the man's skull and left bits of his brain all over his shocked comrade, then the other man met the same fate. Now there were two bodies, neither with a head, covered in each other's blood and brain matter. The two in the control room were next and met similar fates to the previous guards. The only difference was that one of the men's heads was obscured so Trask shot at his neck. This left his head, somewhat, loosely attached to his body while letting the blood run quickly out of him. The final two men, and those closest to him, were quickly brought down as well. His expert timing and years of training made this whole process take less than twenty seconds.
Slowly Trask made his way down to the water's edge and slipped into the river without so much as a ripple. He floated his way across the channel and over to the boat, and using some netting hanging over the side he climbed aboard. With little study he was able to know that there was only one way up on deck, and he made sure to cover that well. While watching for any of the rest of the crew he took off his ghille suit and retrieved his secondary weapon from inside it. It was an Ingrham machine pistol with a suppresser that would allow him to fire under the deck of the boat with out even an echo.
Dressed fully in black now, he crept over to the hatch in the deck he would use to go below. The ladder seemed to extend into the darkness and he knew this was a very dangerous situation. He could hear voices below, but none of them were coming top side. He had to go in guns a blazing and hope for the best he could not extend the length of this mission any further.
Trask went back to his suit and retrieved his night vision goggles. To wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness would take too much time. Once he had them secured to his head he went back over to the ladder and gazed down inside the hull. The floor of the boat seemed to be covered in a dense fog up to about knee level. "Bingo," Trask said to himself. The fog looked like it was created from the evaporating liquid nitrogen that would be used to cool the laser so it wouldn't burn itself upon firing. He knew he was getting close now. At that exact moment a soldier came into view, and Trask ducked quickly out of sight. Slowly, without breathing, he inched his head back up so he could see the soldier. He was talking to someone else below deck by radio.
"Yes sir, Commander Drax," the soldier said with great seriousness and a twinge of fear in his voice. "I will go topside and see what the problem is yes sir cut the engines affirmative."
Trask's heart sank for just a split second as he knew the situation this would create. The soldier would come above and find his comrades dead, soaking in their own blood. Immediately the soldier would radio everyone on the boat and they would be looking for him. Instantly, he knew what must be done. Not knowing how many others might be below him he holstered his weapon. He was far enough away that it was not accurate to shoot at him, with his side arm and too close for his rifle. To shoot and ricochet would be disastrous. Everyone would be alerted of his presence. He holstered his gun and opened his left hand. At the base of his glove was a small loop. He pulled at this loop and a small wire followed it, with the end attached to the palm of his glove. As the soldier stood there with the radio at his ear, Trask slid down the ladder with his feet on its outside never using a rung. His stealth abilities were perfect. The soldier didn't hear a thing. As soon as he hit the bottom he worked in one fluid motion like he had done this all too many times before. He crossed his wrists and made a loop with the wire and put it around the man's neck. His radio hit the floor as he started to struggle. Quickly, while choking the man, Trask turned back to back with the man and leaned forward throwing the soldier over his head. He had struggled too much and was making a commotion, so in this one clean motion Trask separated his head from his body. With the wire having a firm grip on the soldier's neck, his body was far to heavy to stay connected to his throat. "No more problems from him," Trask thought.
Drawing his sidearm again, Trask ventured further into the bowels of the boat. As he crept, he watched the fog at his feet grow thicker and knew he was on the right track. He also heard voices ahead of him and grew very cautious. He spotted two guards talking to each other and sought refuge behind a large wooden crate. Both had rifles on their backs, and seemed as though they knew nothing about what Trask had been doing. The two guards started to walk away from him, but one stopped and opened a circuit breaker on the wall. With his back to Trask he didn't realize he was like a resting salmon with an eagle preying on him. Trask smiled and slowly drew his boot knife. It was a stunning killing instrument with one razor sharp edge, and the other side of the knife was horrifically jagged. This ensured that anyone having it plunged into them wouldn't pull it out or they would take a substantial part of their organs with it. He slipped up behind the guard without a sound or even a breeze. He shoved the knife into the man's back with little resistance. He had shoved the knife perfectly between the man's ribs at an upward angle into his lung just like he had been taught many years ago as a private. This method of killing opened the subject's lung so blood would enter it and he would bleed to death. More importantly, a man can't yell when either one of his lungs are filled with blood. Trask had executed this move perfectly. The man slumped to the floor and he dragged him back to the box he had previously been hiding.
The guards companion was farther down the hallway, but easily within shooting range. Trask aimed his weapon at the man, only using one hand to hold his pistol on a shot this easy, and let fly three shots. The first entering the man's head and the following two into his back. It was an excellent display of marksmanship, but there was one hitch. The sound of the man's body hitting the floor echoed throughout the ship and was surely not going to be overlooked by others. This meant trouble.
I would like to thank my mother and father for letting me watch a lot of television to get the thoughts for this story in my head. I would also like to thank my roommate for telling me the numerous ways he could kill me, so I could use them in this story. Thanks to all the people in my class for their well thought out ideas.
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