Chapter One:

The cold rush of fear, swept across his spine from neck to pelvic bone, all the while each hair stood on end at the shivering sensation. As gentle summer breeze blew through the thick, green leafed bush, the foliage momentarily betrayed the shadowed figure that hid amongst them. As the sweat dripped down from his hair onto the green camouflage painted face, the blood shot eyes seemed like those of a hunting lion, fixed on its pray as it studied it before leaping in for the Kill. They scanned their chosen victim as if they could already taste the coming meal.

Dressed in full combat armor, the figure lay motionless. His body rested against the moist dark soil, with his back to the brightly shinning sun. Across the figures back a small black combat backpack was tightly attached; under this laid the armor plates to protect his back. Made of composite materials, designed with multiple plates each over lapping the next, all bound by a tight Kevlar vest. The curved end of a sniper rifle was held firmly against his right shoulder. His head rested next to the plastic rifle bud. As his right hand wrapped in dark leather glove with long segments of armor extending out from the wrist all the way to his elbow, tightly gripped the rifles handle, with an index finger firmly curved around the trigger. His left arm also clad in black armor extended out and held onto a secondary handle on the rifle for stability and support.

Closing his left eye, he placed the right up against the sniper rifles scope. Through the scope he clearly saw a figure of a man looking out a large balcony. White marble columns supported each end of the second roof balcony, with another set supporting a wooden roof above. Terra cotta colored tiles lined the entire length of the mansion. Beautiful ornate decorated windows lined up all across the two floor compound.
His target in sight he could feel his right index finger itching to squeeze the trigger. Then as soon as the figure appeared it quickly retreated back to its sanctuary. “Heh.”It was almost a whisper, only the creeping scorpion that now moved across his left arm would have been able to hear it.
He studied the creature for a while. Looking at its joints its stinger, and the many stiff hairs that perturbed from its black body; the sight of this brought a large smile to his face, and he gently blew air onto the insect. Its body twitched and curled itself as if to strike at the perpetrator of the shifting winds. Soon its body uncurled itself and as if nothing had happen walked of his left arm and onto the cool dirt below. He watched it as it scurried away, into the thick grass.

With his right thumb he clicks a small dial about an inch behind the trigger. Immediately the display of the scope switched to infrared. The image then zoomed out to incorporate an entire view of the compound. He clearly saw 18 people scattered about various places inside the two storied 24 room mansion, as well as some 12 sentries all patrolling the outer area of the compound. Some mingled in what seemed like a living room of sorts, perhaps a library or study, he could not tell which, others walked about the house, on with their daily task, completely unaware of their role in this hunt.

Again the image zoomed into the house more, the laser range finder displayed the current distance to the target on the bottom right corner; reading 2.3km. As he continued on this voyeuristic examination he came upon what seemed like two unusually high heat signatures. At first they seemed to mold into one but would often part long enough for him to be able to make out two distinct human heads.
Chapped lips parted as the lone hunter slowly smiled. He could feel his heart rate begin to climb, his own blood rising. “Ok I will start with you two.” he smile spread from cheek to cheek, as he zoomed to maximum magnification he could now clearly see it was the head of a male and a female. He placed the sights on the males head and waited. As he studied its movements, up, then down, up again, down, up, he could see the timing for his strokes.

Her screams of pure ecstasy was the one thing that he enjoyed the most. Not the moist and passionate heat the shared, but her face and the sounds that uttered from those red lips. She graved onto his torso as they continued in their frenzied lust. He would reach down and kiss her then quickly move his head up to enjoy the full sight of her. As she looked straight into his eyes, she could not think, there was no here no now, only an infinite sea of pure ecstasy that laid out before her. Endless and boundless, she was consumed by it, engulfed into this world of no pain only the highest amount of bodily pleasure.

Again he reached down and kissed her, their pace ever quickening, she knew she was close, so close; she could almost taste the sweet rewards of their hour long endeavor. Then as he again lifted his head, the cranium exploded sending bone, blood, flesh, and gray matter in a 360 degree sphere. The entire room, a pleasant white, was now decorated with tiny fragments of a once living human cranium.
Eyes wide, and pupils fully dilated, everything including time seemed to have stopped. A second later, her head added to the new interior decorations of the second floor guest room. From outside the door a large popping sound as the wall was perforated and the consequent cerebral detonation went unnoticed.

Quickly moving the target sight he picked out his next pray. This time what was clearly an armed sentry on patrol just outside the property. The male guard carried n assault rifle, all though in infrared spectrum it was impossible to tell what model it was, it still mattered little. The sight followed it’s pray as it silently joined on its journey.

As he walked he stopped, and looked at the rays of light as they filtered down through the foliage of the massive oak. Here in its shade he could feel the gentle breezed that swept down from the snowy capped mountains to the west.
The armor piercing round impacted against the three and continued on its course as if the old harden timber was a gentle sheet of cloth.

Unfortunately the human cranium is not as strong as that of a 50 year old oak, for as soon as it was struck by the round it exploded in a flash. Pieces of the lower jaw still remained as the now lifeless body tumbled to the freshly cut lawn.
So this intricate dance of Lion and pray continued, as the mighty beast stalked and killed its intended victims, all seemed to be powerless before his ferocious savagery. The moment the sentries began spotting the headless corpses, they were thrown into frenzy; each ran for cover trying to hide from their unseen assailant. Shouting and screaming at one another they soon began using their radios to call in for more assistance from the main barracks. Unfortunately its location was almost 6km away from the gleaming column filled Estate.

He was now in pure joy and ecstasy, like a machine methodical, relentless he squeezed the trigger, and another human cerebrum became one with the atmosphere. In the spam of one minute, the long barreled rifle ejected the empty ammo clip. Landing a few yards away to his left it smoldered with smoke as the hot metal made contact with the bright green grass. Quickly letting go of the support handled he reached for the ammo clip attached to his belt, and again, with effortless precision reloaded the rifle and prepared it to continue firing.

The sight again lined up with another victim, this seemed to be that of a slender woman as she ran across the second floor hallway. He noticed she was scared, for her body showed a lot of heat especially in the chest and legs. “I need a witness . . . thank god girl, you have just survived.” A second later her right leg cleanly and almost surgically separated from her body at the knees. The round was so fast so precise, that as the girl ran she tumbled, not from the pain, but from the fact that she no longer had a right leg to support her body. He watched for a few seconds as the figure clutched at its now missing appendage.

Again the sight moved about scanning the scene, room for room, hallway for hallway, and sure enough it found its main meal. In what was clearly the main office of the entire complex, where about 10 to 13 men all around some sitting others pacing about, frantically, some seemed armed and where crouched under windows, in a hopeless attempt to find cover from the unseen savagery.

A pink rosy tongue emerged from the chapped lips and wetted them with saliva. Then the same smile began to spread. “this is almost too easy” as he spoke he methodically squeezed the trigger causing all of those sheltered in their sanctuary of the main office to run around in panic; within 12 seconds an eerie peace was placed upon the now silent walls. From his scope he could see that some heat had spread to cover the walls and floor, even the rich wooden roof.

With each shot fired the muzzled flash and noise echoed loudly spreading from his thick bush hiding place and out across and down the steep slope, with its thick waving grass. However at 2.3km away and with the help of a strong cross wind, provided by the sharp slopes of the adjacent cliffs, the thundering smash of the rifle, as it fired, came only as if a distant clap.

The screams and shouts of his fellow coworkers only added to his disorientation and confusion. All around heads seemed to be vaporized as if by some divine act of judgment. The years and horrors of wars would quickly dispel this thought as Ernesto saw the signs of a high power sniper rifles, using armor piercing bullets. What racked his brain was the fact that each and every shot had been a head shot, with as little as half a second in between killings. Whoever this was, was no guerrilla or mercenary; the realization of this made him shiver even more, for he also saw the fact that it was more than likely a lone person, instead of a coordinated team. “This is not good” Ernesto spoke his Spanish rushed and mumbled.
Making his way through the chaos of running comrades as some began shooting at the jungle that surrounded them, only to have their heads explode seconds later, while other running for cover would find, their skulls, become thin as air. After running across the central courtyard, located in the estate he made his way to the back hoping to reach the underground basement, which served as an ammunitions storage and weapons cache.

“Now where you running off to, little one” he spoke as he laughed with joy at his handy work. The target sight lined up with the edge of the entrance, in anticipation of Ernesto’s destination.

As he neared the open entrance to the basement, something told him to dive into it. Not knowing why, he simply dived as if a baseball player diving to catch an opposing teams home run. As his body entered the basement, the wall and open doors exploded in a shower of wood, marble and cement. He tumbled down 12 steps of stairs, finally coming to a rest on the bottom cement floor. As soon as his body entered, its heat signature disappeared. All though the thermal optics in the scope where the latest, in combat technology, they had their limits, more specifically, if hiding behind thick stone or metal walls it was almost impossible to pick the heat signature of the human body.

“Hah…lucky.” The eyes once again hunted for another victim. As if a lion where loosened on a stable of sheep’s with no hope of escape. So to he continued his massacre, each, shot fired reverberated loudly the thunder sweet music to his ears.

Ernesto shook the blinding pain from his now bleeding head, he had to move quickly, else he would not survive another day. Struggle ling to his feet his hands found comfort and support from the cool stone walls. Making his way to the weapons locker at the end of the long yet well lit cellar, he passed between rows upon rows of semi and full automatic rifles. Once at the lockers door he entered his id on the doors small digital screen. With a hiss the large metal door opened slowly, inside crates upon crates, lined up all corners.

Graving the closest one to him, on his right he darted back for the stairs. As soon as he reached the stairs he dropped the crate with a thud, and began flipping the lashes open. The top cover of the crate flew and crashed against the side of the stairs as his left hand effortlessly tossed it. With his right he pulled out what he hoped would be his salvation. Green paint shined in the basements fluorescent lights. The 4 foot long cylindrical shoulder fired missile launcher weighted in at almost 30 pounds; this made it relatively light, for most hand held missile launchers. Across the long tube the model number was written in old red letters. The “SR-sfm 4” was renowned for its light weight yet deadly accuracy and high explosive warhead.

“Te voy a matar desgrasiado” he mumbled as he ran up the stairs already flipping on the missile launcher, and setting it to manual scan. Once he reemerged onto the courtyard headless bodies littered the floor all, the once white granite floor now was stained with crimson blood. He ran past the grotesque scene, as he entered the mansion and moved through the middle hallway, hoping the walls would cover his heat pattern enough not to be spotter. As soon as he reached the front lobby he could see more guards all running for cover only to be departed from their craniums.
That’s when Ernesto noticed the corpses of two fallen comrades one toppled on the other. Their dark label suits where now stained with their blood. He immediately vaulted for them and threw himself right behind them, so they might give him cover, not from the bullets but from the infrared scope, as he still new that both bodies were still relatively warm.

As he scanned the surrounding country side he knew the shots had to be coming from the west, as all bullet impacts where pointing more or less east. Slowly and methodically he scanned the hills and mountains the threes, everything, and then a small flash caught his eye. He could also here the slightest of claps ever so often, but the screams and random shooting of his bewildered comrades made it almost impossible to pinpoint or even recognize. Then, again, the flash, split seconds later a window shattered and he knew someone else had just been reunited with god.

It came from top of a far away trees and tall brushes. He placed the missile launchers on top of the corpses and used them as a base for support. Looking through the missiles scope he aimed at the direction of the flash, instantly an infrared heat source was detected. The almost white hot barrel of the rifle. Pressing the fire trigger once activated the lock on functions; it would take a moment for the infrared sensor to record the position and direction as well as distance of the intended target. In 2 seconds he acquired a green box that marked the target.

With every kill the Lion like thirst became ever bigger. He continued to fire, round after round, thunder after thunder, his rifle ammo display read only 3 rounds remained in the magazine, when a flash of light caught his eye, pulling him from his beastly lust, for raw savagery. He zoomed in on the object of his curiosity when he saw a large puff of white smoke emerge from what seemed two corpses of dead security guards. Eyes gone wide he instantly recognized the shape of a shoulder fired missile.

Out of pure instinct he graved with his left hand his assault rifle next to him and leaped out of the tall brushes and began rolling down the grassy steep mountain. In 5 seconds the missile slammed against the ground he once used as his sniping point. A large explosion through his body further out causing him to widely tumble down the slope. In his violent roll the left hand lost its grip on the rifle and it quickly took its own course down the slope. His body impacted against all the ground hard as he rolled tuffs of grass and dirt went flying every time he crashed against the ground.
At the base of the mountain was the beginning of a thick forest, made up of old thick trunked trees. His back was the first thing to come into contact with the base of the trunk. All though the body armor absorved the worst of the impact his internal organs still felt the full brunt of the impact. Eyes went dark and his body laid there motionless. Far above a Column of thick smoke marked the spot from where his journey had begun.
Laughing Ernesto picked himself up and began to survey the scene. All around headless bodies littered the once luxurious estate. Large wholes perforated the side of the mansion all across its western wall. He never dreamed this would have happened way out in this remote area of the jungle. He walked into the main lobby and searched for the nearest landline phone. At the now empty receptionist desk he found one still connected and with power. Picking it up his right and dialed the barracks direct line. All he received was an error message, saying the current line was temporarily unavailable. Slamming the phone down once again his left hand graved it and with his right dialed, this time to the nearest town. After Several rings the operator answered to his relief.

“Code 7” was all Ernesto said then dropped the phone. Code 7 meant that a full scale attack was under way and for the local and governmental as well as military authorities to be alerted, and to respond immediately.

The once beautiful 10 foot by 9 foot painting o the surrounding country, was torn with an almost 2 feet diameter hole. Glass and debris from the roof as well as the walls all covered the once shiny black marble floor. Several bodies where sprawled about, all bearing the same grotesque similarity, of a missing head. The final bullet impacts decorated all around the main lobby, walls where torn through with large holes, Ernesto even made not of one bullet which actually went from one side of the building and out the other, a successions of wholes left the trace of its trajectory. He could clearly see the threes on the far side of the building through the holes.

Every so often he would shout out a name or call to someone, only to be greeted by the humming breeze and the rustling of leaves as it flowed through open windows or shattered walls. It was as if he was the lone survivor.

With thumping footsteps across the tiled marble stairs, he turned into the first north facing hallway to be shocked at the sight before him. There on the floor laid the body of the Dons daughter. Rushing to her side he quickly gaped at her injury. With his right hand to her neck he quickly check for a pulse, and sure enough there was one faint but she was still alive. Looking around he found the security office two doors down the hallway and ran for it, several seconds later he emerged with several bandages and syringes. He quickly wrapped the bleeding end of what was once her right knee. After applying the medicated bandages he sprayed anesthetic and disinfectant foam all around the bandages, he then provided to wrap them in a second layer of emergency aid cloth.

Pulling the cap out with his teeth He cradled the girl on his lap with his left arm as he injected her with several drugs to prevent her from going into cardiac arrest from the massive loss of blood. As soon as the syringe was empty he pulled it out of her left shoulder and threw it to the floor.
Gently he lifted her and carried her with both arms. As he walked past all the bodies, some where the maids, others regular employees, security guards, and even guest, he could not help but wonder who would act with such mercilessness, such ruthless attack. No warning, nothing but pure savagery. The once ivory colored halls where now stained with sprays of dark blood. All around tiny bits of bone flesh and brain matter decorated the surroundings. Expensive paintings now silently hung on the walls some covered in blood others shredded beyond recognition.
Placing her in the backseat white Sub, he made sure the Dons unconscious daughter would be safely secured with the seatbelts. Then quickly seating himself in the driver’s seat, he started the engine and rolled out of the garage, quickly making a half circle until the subs back faced the open garage doors instantly it spear away leaving a large white dust cloud in its tracks.

As Von Schuler the now newly appointed Admiral for the third orbital fleet sat in his Montana estate, a call flashed across his computer. Seconds later the image of a man with a camo painted face showed up. “I got the goods, no witnesses except two, one was good, almost made me into barbeque. Anyway if all goes well I shall arrive at the pick up in 1 month, If I am not there by then assume I failed”

“Good to hear” The older man with gray hair and silver mustache and beard, seemed to pause for a moment.

“Marcus don’t make me wait!” he added as he leaned back into his office chair.

“Yes sir, Hail the Glory of the Trinity Alliance” Saying this Marcus image disappeared.

This continued for four long bloody years. Von Schuler had assembled a list of all private warlords, drug lords or terrorist leaders which were receiving information, weapons or monetary assistance from the EAP. He would then send Marcus in either alone or with a small commando unit and assassinate the assigned targets. All these wealthy individuals, either he would interrogate/torture them until they told him where the money was or he would use their personal computers to find all the transaction information he needed. Then he would simply retransfer all funds to secure networks where it would be reinvested until it would seem that the aging Admiral was making a large profit from corporate investments.

Over the next 4 years Marcus with the help of Von Schuler would establish a special division of commandos know as the 181st Independent Special Forces. After their creation the 181st became notorious amongst all guerrilla fighters. Marcus would become the established leader of the 181st and for 4 years their legend held true.

However for the past year their captain, leader and founder had been listed as MIA. No one knew his whereabouts, or his fate. EAP officials denied that it was Marcus who they captured in Japan a year before. The TA on the other hand did not seem too committed in sending out a search and rescue mission.