Second Mil-dot Down

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Deep underground in the once top secret base of Cheyenne Mountain. A military base built into a mountain near Colorado Springs, It was assured to withstand anything from a napalm strike to a nuclear blast. Now with its giant steel doors closed, encapsulating the President of the United States, and head members of its cabinet the tension was thick.

Accompanying them was a group of the most feared and combat proven US military unit ever created. Task Force Ares, a handpicked group of elite soldiers from all reaches of the world. It contains only the most highly accurate, effective, and combat proven men from US Special Forces, Green Berets, British SAS, Navy SEALS, Marine Force Recon, Spetsnaz, and Delta Force. Their leader, General Matthew Collins, is one of the most cold hearted, fearless, relentless, and brutal men in the American Military. He led troops into Somalia, the USSR, North Korea, Iran, Iraq, and Pakistan. Officially he has racked up over 112 confirmed combat kills, off the record the number is much higher, but he tended to keep this to himself to make his political record look just the way the media wanted it to. General Collins listened intently as he sat in the comfortable leather seat during a meeting about the past few weeks in America.   


          Three weeks ago Gunnery Sergeant Evan Hunt awoke in his cozy house at the Marine Corp’s Camp Lejeune.  The alarm clock going off precisely at 0530 hundred hours felt more like a bomb going off to Hunt. “Shut the hell up!” he yelled as his hand slapped the snooze button of the clock. 5 more minutes in paradise, he thought as he laid in his king sized bed with his fiancée Amanda Kingsley.  As he drifted back to sleep the alarm blared again. 0535, gotta get up now. He kissed Amanda as he got up and into the shower. After his shower and shave Hunt began donning his Marine Corps issued BDU, battle dress uniform, the standard issue camouflage for the marines looked almost casual on the experienced and weathered face of Evan Hunt. Amanda did not sleep last night, and Evan knew this. He was to be deployed today, and she spent all night starring at her love. Hunt grabbed his duffle, and went to the door as he kissed her goodbye, and exchanged I love yous possibly for the last time of his life.

Evan was no ordinary grunt. He was a Force Recon Sniper. The best of the best, and as he drove his car farther from home a transformation occurred. Hunt became the emotionless sniper he spent years of his life training to be.

“Good morning sir!” Said the guard at the car entrance of the Pentagon as he checked Evans identification and gave him a salute. “And to you” responded Hunt with a salute. The guard waved him on and he continued to his parking spot.

Evan continued inside, up to the second floor of the Pentagon and entered the glossed glass door labeled R287-TFA. Inside was General Collins who gathered Hunt as well as his spotter Jack Crest. Hunt met Jack during Marine Corps basic training. Both Crest and Evan had top marks for both physical, and marksmanship. So naturally they became friends and ended up going to Fort Benning, Georgia for their exclusive Scout Sniper training. Where Crest became his spotter. Both men were barely over 5’11” and had slim, but muscular bodies. Perfect for the hell sniper training puts them through.

After graduating scout sniper school with the highest scores in their platoon Evan and Jack proceeded to begin Force Recon training, which unbelievably to the men made Fort Benning’s training a walk in the park. The men were drowned, tortured, gassed, and PT’d until they puked. Were given 5 hours of rest then went through it all over again for 6 months. They underwent strenuous rifle training, as well as extreme pistol marksmanship.

“Welcome to the briefing men, glad you lazy maggots could get your fat asses outta the rack early enough to be here!” Exclaimed General Collins.

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