Approved by John Bull 1
Collaborative Fiction:Final Mission

This is a new Collaborative fiction project.Any who wish to contribute may do so.All they must do is contact John Bull 1 via u2u and he will change their status to writer.

Each addition to this story must not exceed 500 words and each writer must post only once a day.

The genre allows for a certain amount of gore but otherwise good taste must be observed.

Remember that this is a public forum and minors have access
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It was very cold. That was the first thing that registered in his mind as the door of the plane opened. The second thiong that registered was shapes of the clouds far below him, storm clouds, dark and seething. From his vantage point he could see the play of lightning from cloud to cloud, could smell the ozone in the cold Siberian air.

He checked himself before he made his jump. His nightsuit, a heat and light dampening jet black suit the clung to his body was in place, no tears that would compromise its integrity. He had his small knapsack, holding only military field rations, a knife, and a pda that held a variety of information on the compound he was about to infiltrate, as well as giving a means of communication to the surveillance plane that would be hovering over the compund. The knapsack was crafted of the same material as his nightsuit. His combined nightvision/thermal goggles were in place, built into his nightsuit and allowing a nightvision view that also registered heat signatures. He had no identification, even if he was allowed to carry ID, he didn't know his own name. Besides that, there was nothing.

He jumped without hesitation, and immediately angled his body toward the compound he was to infiltrate. He knew next to nothing about the compound, only its name, "Womb", and its location, Eastern Siberia. It was Ironic, he thought, ever since Russia became our ally, we've been more suspicious of them than ever. It was a fleeting thought, he had not been trained to think, only to kill. The thought brought his mind back to his mission. To kill the director of the womb, "creator".

He passed the point where if had been wearing a parachute, he would have used it. He angled his body for impact to the ground. He saw the compound rushing up beneath his feet, and then hit the pavement road that led into the compound with an impact that cracked the road into a spiderweb pattern. He slowly stood up to check if his equipment was in good condition after the impact. It was. He switched on his goggles and turned towards the womb to get a better look at it.

Luckily, it was late into the night. The pitch blackness of the skies made his outline even more invisible. He lay flush against the ground on his stomach, the cold of the snow bit through his outfit. Taking on his night vision scopes, he peered through them towards the compound.

He could see several guards, equipped with the newest prototypes of assault rifles, mindlessly patrolling the perimeter. A maximum security fence, fully equipped with electric barbed wiring (which was designed not to short out even with the presence of water), heat sensors that could detect the presence of humans, cameras that covered every inch of the perimeter, and various other gadgets that the government had poured into the compound.

He knew that getting past the fence would prove to be near impossible. A wrong move could turn on every single searchlight to be trained on him, and not to mention several dozen shock troops.

He was well far away from being detected. Slowly and steadily, he dug into the snow and crept on his stomach towards the compound. He made sure to stick against the tracks of jeeps that had passed through the road as not to leave any mark of his presence. The intensity of the stress had already made him sweat, even in the sub-zero temperatures of Siberia.

In his backpack, he carried a few EMP grenades. It wasn’t known what type of technology the fence was equipped with, but he was fairly sure that the fence could knock a large portion of it out. There was a flash suppressant built into the grenade, so no one would know how or where the blast came from.

Reaching into his backpack, he dug one of them out. He flipped open the safety cap, pressed the ARM button. A tiny red LED started blinking. As soon as the grenade sensed a sudden impact, it would detonate.

Making sure that the guards weren’t watching the fence, he quickly tossed the grenade towards it.

A loud ZZAP filled the air. A flurry of sparks flew in all directions, as flames and smoke rose from the blasted area. The guards spun around in confusion and stared at the smoking fence. One of them reached for their radio and sharply began barking orders in Russian. The other troops raised their rifles and trained them towards then fence. They slowly advanced forward.

#075985

The guards rushed to the area that was in flames. Anxiously pointing around with their rifles, they waited for the reinforcments they had called in to help survey the area. The guards, dressed in you average sub-zero army surplus white overalls, where now on high alert and safe passag inside 'womb' would now be far more difficult. Even though the fence was now definately out of action, he would still have to wait in the freezing foxhole he had made until things calmed down slightely. Hopefully the fence would not be active again for a while.

Moments passed. Sitting in his foxhole, he reached underneath his night suit and pulled out a set of shiny dogtags. #075985 was engraved where any usual soldier would see their name. However #075985 wasn't a usual soldier. He put away his dog tags and readied himself for action, this would be interesting..

General Jonathan Price was in charge of this mission. He sat at his terminal in mission control. A dozen other people were busily working away around him, making sure that this one wouldn’t fail.

A satellite image displayed on a large screen that filled the front of the room showed the compound. The image was an hour old, an hour too old. Activity seemed to be normal there. No signs of any disturbance, which was good, because any disturbance would mean that the mission had been failed. #075985 was a good one.

To maintain maximum security, no radio contact between #075985 and mission control was maintained. There was no way to know what #075985 was doing. He could have been dead and no one would know. A tiny GPS transmitter was injected into his bloodstream, so they all knew where he was at the moment. The GPS screen showed no signs of movement, was he dead already?

John was getting impatient; this was no time to play games. He stared at the blinking red dot on the screen, indicating #075985’s position.

He knew that if #075985 didn’t move soon, he would freeze to death. Siberia is one of the most unforgiving environments that anyone could be in. He prayed to God that this time, it’ll work…

He took out and loaded his silenced assault rifle. He studied the area,the Russians were examing where the EMP exploded. He counted the gaurds,only 6 where there. Reinforcments where coming he thought to himself. He quitely raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. One guard went down,clutching the bullet hole as blood pured out. The other 5 did'nt notice their comrade fall. #075985 fired again,hitting anonter in the head. This time the others took notice. The soldier that seemed to be their leader shouted orders in Russian. The four remaining gaurds fired blindly into the snowy night. Using this to his advantage #075985 fired at a third gaurd. The bulltet whized into his throat,spitting up blood he fell dead.
The last two guards ran to their fallen ally. The lead sentry cursed in Russian. He fired close to the foxhole where #075985 lay in silence. #075985 threw a smoke grenade, the smoke billowed into the night. Using this to his advantage #075985 killed the last two. He studied the area,all clear. He sleathly walked acroos the fence. A bullet whizzed by. They know am here,he thought. Being as quite as he could #075985 went prone,and reloaded his gun.

The Womb

#075985 took cover as bullets wizzed by into the night. The area he was now enclosed in was a top secret Russian facility. Effectionately entitled 'The Womb', the instilation held secret Russian technology that even the Russian president would stagger to beleive was being created by his own country. It was Russias dirty little secret and had nothing of the fame that the legendary Area 51 did back in America. #075985 was now leaning his back up against a small concrete wall. He was only at the first stage of his journey and would have to face Thw womb's many subteranean levels before he reached his target.

The snow was beginning burn. #075985 made his move, and as he began to run he saw his goal: the entryway. #075985 had been given identification passes that would open these doors so it was all a matter of blasting his way through.
The bullets began to fly.

He peered out to see what opposition there was. Only four guards stood in his way. He grabbed a frag grenade off of his utility belt. He tore ff the pin and threw it. The gaurds did'nt see it. #075985 dove to the ground as the grendade exploded. Smoke and the smell of burnt flesh and blood filled the air. #075985 stood back up and ran to the door.

He tried kicking the door down,too tough. He grabbed a C-4 charge and planeted it to the door. He dashed back to the wall and detonated the C-4. The explosion caused rock and molten steel to rain down. #075985 ran into the large hole in the installation.

It was dark. Pitch black. #075985 turned his nigth vision goggles on. He crept down the hallway hiding in the shadows as troops darted by. He followed the markers on the walls until he made his way to the armory. There were two gaurds there. #075985 raised his gun and fired. By time the second gaurds noticed his friend was dead, he was laying in a pool of his own blood.

#075985 took a card key from a dead gaurd and opened the door. He was prepared to kill anything that moved.

[Edited on 11-13-2003 by JediMaster]

#075985 held his gun in the air as he slowly walked down the hallway off of the armory. He had to get to a quiet position so he could consult his maps. He looked at the markings on the walls, but wasn't able to read the. #075985 was fluent in russian, but this language looked like pictographs of some kind, impossible for him to decipher.

His attention swung back to the real world as he heard a click. The ceiling in front of him opened up as an armored automated gun emplacement lowered. A quick look behind him told him that the same story. He saw the barrels begin to rotate, readying to fire. He had less then a second to do what he had to do.

#075985 concentrated all his energy, all of his strength, and put it into a field around him. The emplacements began to fire, but the bullets only stopped dead in the air around him. He fired two shots into each emplacement, destroying both of them. And then he collapsed, tasting blood in his mouth as darkness swept over him.

[Edited on 11-13-2003 by Dreamstone]

regeneration

#075985 hit floor along with the blood that spewed from his mouth. The automated guns wirred as they came to a stop. #075985 twitched , rolled over and began spluttering and coughing blood. He looked up at the neon lights that lined the cealing of the metal walkway and the light illumiated his face white and bloody. He closed his eyes and got up. #075985 new his body had completely regenerated yet he felt dead inside, like he had for his whole existence. After checking his ammunition he made a move. He would need to find a place to hide for now. All this noise upstairs must have alerted the boys miles below.
They waited.

The agent that went by the name of numbers ducked behind a large, steel plated shelf. He knew what he to do, and he knew he was running against the clock. If he wasn't out in two hours, the world was doomed. He had to make his way down to the lower corridor, and he had to do it fast. He made his move. He sprinted across the corridor, past the blood and the dead soldiers, and hit the floor again, crawling...slowly..slowly. Downward he went, down the stairs, and into the lower corridors. He heard two men having a conversion.
"I can't stand the heat of this place.." Said one of the men.
"Yeah, I know, but as soon as the nuclear missiles are implanted, we will be on our way" Said the other man, in reply.
The Agent made his move again, with a swift move he knifed one of the men, and silently eliminated the other. He was almost to the Missile Silo...almost...

Post 65
His encredible entrance into the top secret facility fazed most of the buys down below,

"Who is this guy?" one of the base commanders muttered in Russian. They had been alerted of his presense some 25 minutes ago hand where now watching him from the main control room on the CCTV system that ran through the base. All the commanders knew where he was headed: directly for them. The most senior ranking official General Pliskin removed his military hat, " We need reinforcements, this base does not have the manpower for this kind of assault..he must have been transported here by steath aircraft....we would have seen them on the radar." The General scratched his shaved head, "Call for backup from Post 65*"

Back upstairs #075985 continued to creep through the metal corridor. He had hidden the two dead soilders as he feared alerting the base commanders. Hi did not realise he was being watched although he was beggining to realise what was happeneing.

"WOOOP WOOOP WOOOP WOOOP"

The base alarm system had been triggered, a mechanised voice wailed out through the instilation:

"All military and armed personel alerted, Intruder heading to the core."

#075985 began to sweat. He was not worried, he had not been trained to experience fear. Loading up the Ak47 he had got from the dead guard, he began to run.

#075985 ran as quickly as he could. He dodged, ducked, creeped, and sprinted. Reaching the end of the corridor, he approached a fork in the hallway. There were two ways, one leading left, and one on the right that led down a staircase. 'Which one should I pick?', he thought to himself. After taking a minute to make a decision, he went right. Down, down, lower, and lower he crept. Finally, he reached the end of the stairs. He saw a guard in a dark red uniform, with a black beret on. He was carrying an AK-47 and a Desert Eagle. #075985 knew he was almost there. The opposition was getting rougher. Just as he was about to make his move, he got a break of luck. Two more guards joined the other, and he was lucky enough that he heard them coming. If they hadn't say "Hello" to the guard, #075985 would have been lost. The two other guards had on kevlar, helmets, and were carrying AKS-74's.
CRACK! Something had fell over outside the door. The guards went to investigate, and #075985 made another move. He leaped through the gate, and had made it to the missile silo.
Only to see what he had feared. He didn't know how, but he knew he was seeing Post 65. Post 65 wasn't what he expected. It was a man, maybe 6 foot 4, but he had a gatling gun an arm. He was half-human/half-not. #075985 knew he was too late. The missile's had just been transported onto trucks. #075985 had to get those missles, somehow, he had to ambush the trucks....somehow...someway...
He sat, thinking of what his next move was to be. . .

A large forklift slowly and tediously pushed the last missile on the truck. As soon as it was secured on, the drivers jumped into their seats and turned on the engines. The Creator was watching as all of this happened. There wasn’t enough time to make mistakes. Everything must go according to plan.

A burst of static sounded on his radio. "All military and armed personnel alerted, Intruder heading to the core."

The Creator felt as he had just been stabbed in the back. He was in command of the most advanced and secure military facility in the world, and there was an intruder in his base. He felt his face turn hot. If word gets out about this, this could mean the end…

He reached for his radio and thumbed the transmit button. “Authorization given for lockdown.”

Shock troops will soon be flooding the base. Every door will be shut and locked. The automated sentry guns will be activated. Anyone that questions orders will be shot. There was no chance of survival for the intruder.

“Move out, NOW!!” screamed the Creator. The armed drivers jammed on the gas, snow flew as the wheels dug into the ground. The first truck drove away, the other five followed. A convoy of heavily armed escorts followed.

He was left standing with four of his body guards. “Command post” he uttered, as he climbed into the seat of his truck. A body guard started the engine and headed off.

Post 65's guns started blazing. #075985 threw himself through the air as bullets pinged along the wall in a wave of sparks. He hit the ground and rolled into a groove in the wall. Bullets were hitting all around him and he felt pain. #075985 looked down at his leg, a bullet had struck his hip. Without anything more than a grunt, he pulled the long silver bullet from his leg. Post 65 was moving it's big body around for another assault,#075985 couldn't hold him for long, he needed a way out. He peered from the hole he was in and bullets whizzed past his face, he was cornered.

Post 65 was gaining ground, he was gaining it quickly. #075985 needed a plan - and fast. The quick-thinking agent through himself up on a pole and climbed up, just as Post 65 opened fire! Post 65 stopped to reload, and #075985 knew this was his chance. He pulled his combat knife from his boot, threw himself through the air, and landed behind Post 65. Just as #075985 thought he had Post 65 trapped, two guards armed with AK-47's attacked. Out of nowhere it seemed!
"We have you now, #075!" Post 65 yelled. #075985 jumped quickly through the air, landed on top of one guard, stabbed him, and kicked the other guard. Post 65 made his move. CRACK CRACK CRACK. Three bullets flew through the air, one hitting #075985. Yelling in agony, he had been hit in the neck. #075985 collapsed onto the floor. He was still conscience, and he saw Post 65 moving closer. He saw no sign of the other guards moving at all. Post 65 gave a cackling, humiliating laugh, and walked off. #075985 thought to himself, "He thinks I am dead. . .and then he passed out.

#075985 awoke some time later, and knew he had failed the mission. "#075985, come in" "Yes" said the wounded agent. "There is still time, if you move now, you will find Post 65 and the missiles in St. Petersburg." "Russia?" Said the startled agent, "They haven't been transported yet?" "No. They are planning on shipping them out tonight. If you don't make it, the world could be doomed."

#075985 got up, and set off, to stop Post 65, once, and for all.

He realized his necessity for speed. He began to look for the markings that would lead him where he needed to go.

Unknown to most people, the Russian government had established an underground maglev railway system throughout Russia. Used during the Cold War to transport sensitive materials between key locations, it was all but deactivated now. But #075985 knew how to operate the train. Post 65 had taught him the access codes a long time ago...

Shaking his head from the memories that threatened break his stride he kept on moving, until his vision began to waver. He hadn't realized exactly how much blood he had lost until now. His body's accelerated helaing had saved him from death, but it needed raw material to produce th amounts of blood he needed. #075985 needed food before he could go any farther, and looked around for any kind of sustenance

He slowly began to get up but he heard Russian voices laughing in the distance. He slumped back down into the corner and played dead. The soilders approaching walked up to #075985, "Look at all this blood, what a mess!" The first soilder chuckled. "Lets get him out of here," The second soilder said more seriously. "Da," The other replied quickly. The two picked up #075985 and dumped him into the box on wheels that nother soilder had pushed up to the site of #075985 'death'. Now, slupmed inside what only could be described as a mine cart, he began to move.

Within a few minutes #075985 had been taken far through the base in the cart, his health system was still desperately low on energy. Suddenly all was cold. #075985 was lying in snow, he body carelessly dumped in a mound of snow in some location surrounding the base. This was a curse and a blessing, he had made it out of the base alive to chase the missiles, but he was low on energy, lying in freezing snow.

"Come in, Agent #075985, come in, HQ?" The agent muttered.

"Yes, we're here" They responded. "I'm hurt, badly, I need help. The Russians have gotten rid of the missiles, they are on their way to St. Petersburg." #075985 said again. "OK, we'll move onto your position. Give us 5 minutes" HQ spoke back. "Fine, but make it quick" #075985 desperately gasping for air, said as best he could.

The chopper arrived 4 minutes later. He was healed, given arms, a handgun, a new knife, new body armor, and some rations to take along. #075985, had again, escaped death.
He moved quickly. He found an abandoned car, some foreign model, and drove it as fast he could to St. Petersburg. It had taken almost 3 hours, and #075985 knew he was definately short on time. As he arrived, he saw the trucks. They were stopped at the dock, and one missile had already been loaded on.
Jumping on of his car, he leaped behind some barrels and listened into some guards' conversation. "So, where are these headed, again, Karl?" One said. "I heard it was South Africa, if I remember" The other said, inconfident in his words. "Alright, well, I guess we better get on the boat or we might get left behind." The other chuckled back.
They left. Silence fell on the city, as dusk was taking over the Earth. #075985 crept onboard the ship, and made his way to the second level. The ship was big, a huge freighter, a cargo ship definately. He needed a plan. The ship would arrive in Africa in three days, and that is all the time he had. He pondered his next move. . .

The Ship was moving fast through the cold night. After #075985's entrance to the Womb, the Russians military though it would be safer to transport the weapons to a different facility for their deyployment. The weapon that the Russians had developed was unlike anything before it. The new missiles where on their way to South Africa, the only other place from which the Russians could safley contain and deploy this powerfull weapon. #075985 heard a noise and jumped round to look in the direction it came from. A guard was heading towards him, he ahd obviously heard a noise. As the Russian officer approached the boxs that he was hiding behind #075985 dived into the air at incredible speed, grabbing the soildiers neck, breaking it instantly. After dragging the corpse out of he sight #075985 switched closed with the officer and prepared to infiltrate the huge tanker.

Unsure of where to go, #075985 looked around his surroundings for somewhere to hide and evaluate his situation. There was a mess of crates and bundles lying in the corner, it would have to serve as a hiding place for now.

#075985 slid behind the crates and pressed his body flush against the cold metal wall. He went debriefed himself of everything that just happened. What happened at the womb was a disaster. The creator now knew of his presence. Another mistake, the mission would be blown, chaos would reign.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the metal floor. #075985’s body suddenly went stiff. If someone were to pass by the crates, we would be easily spotted. The footsteps became louder. Too late to escape now. The door screeched open, and a man in a large black trench coat stepped through.

The man walked towards the box of crates, his footsteps getting louder and louder by the second. #075985 tried to make his body as small as possible. He pressed his back against the wall slid his body downwards. An imperfection in the metal wall suddenly stabbed him in the buttocks.

He let out a little yelp. The man stopped in his footsteps, he had head the noise. Realizing that he had just made a noise and gave himself away, #075985 reached for his combat knife and flipped it open, ready to plunge it into anyone what came towards him.

The man scanned his eyes across the room, looking for anything that could have made the noise. He wondered forward, gazing around the room with his hands behind his back. As the man stepped forward, #075985 could see him in plain sight. A turn of the head could mean…

The man sharply jerked his head towards the ceiling. He stood there, staring for a while at the ventilation grate. The tension was just too much for #075985. His breathing quickened and began to tremble. He worked hard to try to suppress his anxiety.

“Damn rats”, the man muttered as he opened the door and stepped into the next room.

The seconds after the man had left has seemed to be hours. #075985 was still half-standing half-crouching in the corner, unable to recover from what had just happened. He stared blankly at the floor, still shaken from the nervousness that he had just gone through.

There was no more time to waste. #075985 slid out from behind the crates, and crept towards the door. Combat knife in hand, he reached for the handle. Just as he was about to turn the handle, the door opened, revealing a startled worker. In a reflexive action, #075985 grabbed him by the neck and stabbed the worker in the heart. His body went limp and lost balance. Quickly extracting his knife, #075985 applied pressure on the wound to keep revealing blood droplets from reaching the ground. He dragged the body and shoved it behind the crates.