Ghosts: CATU Book 01 Ch. 02

"Nice try, but your little mind trick won't work," he says with a hint of amusement. "And my little gun is going to blow your fucking head right off."

Standing fully upright, the beast dared Spencer; this was just another human, only a little stronger in the mind. Why Delgrious had an interest in the human was beyond it. Orders were orders though.

Without saying another word Spencer fired, shooting the creature in the leg. He wanted it to know what he was dealing with before he killed it.

Blowing a hole the size of a baseball into its leg really set the creature off. Spencer knew the single shot wouldn't kill it, but it should have at least put it down. At least if it was a lesser beast.

Creatures from the realm of Hades consisted of two types lesser and greater. This applied to both creatures and demons. Lesser demons were easier to kill, greater demons, not so easy.

Furious, the beast roared with such ferocity the entire garage began to shake. Not caring about orders, it was determined to extinguish Spencer's life as well as Sam's. The roar was so deafening, Spencer had to drop his gun to cover his ears.

As soon as the beast saw this, he charged at Spencer. Letting arrogance get the best of him once, Spencer wasn't about to that happen again. At the last moment he side stepped the beast and kicked out into its mid section. This sent the beast into a wall, sending cracks in every direction. In addition to being able to see the evil of our world was unnatural strength in the presence of that evil.

The beast bellowed with even more ferocity than before. Pillars shattered and the ceiling began to fall.

Damn you human, no one has ever gotten the best of me. I'll be damned if you'll be the first! The demon yelled angrily.

Diving, he grabbed his gun and come out of a roll into a crouch. "Yes, you will be damned."

Firing, he emptied all the rounds into the beast. The over abundance of holy water shifted through it body creating a massive light before exploding into nothing. The shock from the explosion shook the already unstable environment.

Needing to act quick, Spencer holstered his gun. He ran over to Sam, she was still unconscious.

Well this is going to be hard to explain.

Lifting her up he ran to a small section of wall that had not fallen yet. Hearing sirens coming in their direction he felt both relief and uncertainty. How would he explain this to Sam let alone anyone else?

He hated lying, but a lie was better than the crazy house.

——

The sniper rested his gun over the edge of the building. He wasn't given an exact time his quarry would arrive, but he was a patient man. Had to be in his profession, and one didn't become highly recommended without patience. He was just glad it was a mild day. Compared to some of the jobs he had, this was going to be a walk in the park.

Noi was adamant he took this job. Normally he wouldn't, too boring. The money, however, was better than some of the jobs he'd taken. Funny thing was, the money he was paid had come from the guy he was about to kill. Kind of ironic, it was like the guy hired someone to kill him.

The sniper laughed at his own joke, he hadn't had a good one of those in awhile. After years of being in this profession, it took a toll on your soul. Sure he sometimes wished his life stayed on the straight and narrow, but what can you do about it.

Being in special ops for the military had always been his dream, especially as a kid. Watching the movies where the Green Berets or snipers took out the bad guys, saving all the innocent people. It had inspired him to want to do that, to help innocent people. He had his chance, many times over. It wasn't until the Brazilian Conflict, officially named and kept a secret from the public, that things turned sour for him. His mission had been simple; get in rescue high profile, details never released to him, get out. Simple. It started that way, simple. Then it took a very sharp turn southward.

—

The Brazilian heat rolled through the jungle in waves. Sweat poured down the sniper's face, dripping off the tip of his nose and chin. He'd been in the jungle only a few hours, but already it felt like days.

His special training was the only thing that got him through the heat, past the bugs, and on with his mission.

Lieutenant Vincent Mathsen, better known as Crosshairs to his superior officers, was one of the best highly trained soldiers available. There was never a mission he wasn't able to successfully complete and this one in particular was like any other. At least in his eyes.

The Brazilian Conflict had been raging for the better part of a year now and no one other then the people directly involved or high levels of government knew it was taking place. Of course, if anyone knew there were American forces in the country, it would turn into a political nightmare.

The ramifications of the conflict would be devastating for the President and America's government. This is what led to Crosshairs being here in the first place.

Nathan Valeen, head of the CIA operation here in Brazil, disappeared just two days before.

Like Mathsen, Valeen was technically not here. Normally the government would not acknowledge his existence and he'd be left to face his fate on his own.

However, because of what he knew, it was too great a risk to leave him in the hands of the enemy.

The CIA learned of his capture and was able to trace his captor's movement until they disappeared into the jungle. They had one chance of finding and rescuing Valeen and it would be to bring in someone with exceptional skills.

Crosshairs had instantly picked up trail shortly after arriving. The soldiers he was tracking either were sloppy or didn't care if someone might come looking for them. Crosshairs counted on the former, these were just guerrillas with poor military training.

After several hours of tracking the guerrillas, Crosshairs came upon a small village hidden under intense plant growth. The jungle was the best place for the guerillas to hide because of the growth. Satellite imaging was never able to provide much other than tree coverage.

The village appeared to just be that, a village. There weren't any signs of guerrilla activity, at least not right away. Being a sniper taught him to be patient and observe.

After a half hour, the first soldier appeared from one of the huts. The man carried an AK-47, which he knew was standard for guerrillas of any faction. The guns could be bought on the black market for cheap and the supply seemed to be never ending.

Seeing the soldier confirmed his suspicions and he moved to recon the rest of the village and area. As the afternoon began to wear down and the heat dissipated into a milder and more bearable heat, more soldiers began to filter out of the huts. With them came women dressed in torn clothing, many of them almost naked.

The women walked around almost in a mindless daze. Crosshairs instantly knew how they were being treated and he felt disgusted. His emotions began to intensify upon seeing the soldiers when they begin to torture the men and children of the village.

The men and children were made to dance and perform ridiculous activities while the soldiers either shot at them or beat them with the butts of the rifles. Those that refused or didn't perform the activity were shot, the soldiers showing no emotion.

Crosshairs had a mission to do, but doubt began to knaw at him. He had to stick with the mission and he had yet to confirm the high profile, so he continued with his recon.

The recon eventually lead him to a pit on the opposite side of the village he had initially entered on. In it lay the bodies of countless victims, those he guessed were like the men and children that were killed in cold blood.

The pit smelled horrendously, containing men, women, and children of all ages. Crosshairs did everything in his power to keep from vomiting at both the site and smell.

It was time for action and as soon as the profile could be confirmed, he'd go into action.

What made Crosshairs a great soldier was the ability to not let carnage or the death of the men he killed to bother him. Yet when it came to seeing how the people of the village, especially the women and children, were treated, it bore into his soul like nothing had ever before.

He had trained his body long ago to sleep on command and for only brief amounts of time to ensure he had the rest and energy he'd need. But throughout the night with the images of torture and carnage flowing through his head, slept never came.

Sometime in the middle of the night, the high profile made his appearance. The guerrillas dragged the man out from one of the huts out into the center of the village. The man appeared to been beaten several times.

The guerrillas began asking questions, to which the man appeared to understand but refused to answer back. Because of his refusal, the soldiers beat him with either their hands and feet or the butts of their riffles.

The event took place only a short while, until the man could no longer hold his own body up. When it was over, the soldiers dragged the limp man back into the hut they brought him out of.

Crosshairs decided he'd make his move shortly before morning.

——

The village had two towers that were currently occupied by a soldier in each one. The purpose it seemed was to ensure none of the villagers escaped during the night. They were the first to taken out.

In rapid succession, Crosshairs put a bullet into both their heads. Without a sound both men dropped. He made his way down into the village toward the hut the profile was in. He didn't face any opposition on the way there and found the hut empty except for Valeen tied to the opposite end of the hut's wall.

The man seemed to have recovered from the beating he had just a few hours earlier and seemed alert.

"You're here to rescue me?" he asked in a raspy voice.

Crosshairs moved in on the man and cut him down before answering the question.

"Yes, but I'm also here to get these people out. I need you to gather them up and get them ready to move out."

"What about the soldiers?"

"I'll take care of them, you just do as I told you," Crosshairs said, this time a little more stern.

Crosshairs went from hut to hut quietly dispatching each soldier. In no time the village was cleared of guerrillas and the people were ready to begin moving out.

He met Valeen in the center of the village just as it began to rain.

"The people are ready to move but—"

"Let's go, we don't have much time," Crosshairs said, grabbing Valeen's arm and pushing him forward.

Valeen was lifted into the air at that moment and thrown back. He landed in the ground just as the sound of the shot reached Crosshairs ears. Valeen was instantly dead, a hole the size of a baseball was centered over where his heart once was.

The people began running in every direction. Screams filled the air as machine gun fire rang out.

Crosshairs tried yelling above the roar of the people, trying to give directions. His attempts were useless as the people were no longer concerned about him as they were trying to not be killed.

A bullet tore through his left leg, catching him by surprise. He dropped to the ground. Before he could recover, he looked up to see he was surrounded with several rifles pointed at him.

——

Crosshairs spent the next three years in the captivity of the guerrillas. He survived eating the bugs he found and his will to survive. Each day brought the same thing as well as something new.

Eventually after six months of captivity the daily beatings decreased to a weekly beating then monthly.

After three years he began to give up hope of ever leaving until on a chance happening Delta Force appeared.

They were there on a mission and they were as surprised as he was to see them. Delta Force extracted him upon their leaving and within a matter of hours he was back in America.

His troubles weren't over, however, but only the beginning.

Because of his actions of deviating from his mission, that caused not only the death of the high priority, but the risk of exposing the conflict to the public.

He was dishonorably discharged from the military.

"Have the jurors reach a verdict?" General Fairholm asked.

"We have your honor," replied juror number three. "We find the defendant, Lieutenant Vincent Mathsen, guilty."

"Because of your exceptional service record and dedication, I will reduce your sentence. You will serve no less than five years in prison. At the end of your sentence you will be granted a dishonorable discharge."

Crosshairs spent five long years trying to figure out why he was there. After all his service and dedication he gave to his country, he was thrown away.

Five years he spent. His hatred growing toward America's government and he would get revenge using the skills that same government gave him.

—

He served his time, but throughout those years his anger built up against the government. With his skills he entered the assassination field, always happy to kill a government official. It was jobs like this that bored him, but he did have expenses to take care of after all.

——

Patting Rudolph on the back, Hanson boomed with excitement. The group of soldiers stood before them. Cheers and shouts were in the air, the spirits of the men was what was needed the most right now.

"We have the Americans where we want them, soon the rest of the world will follow," he says to Rudolph.

Rudolph didn't seem as excited about the outcome, however.

"What's wrong Rudy?" Hanson questions.

"Why didn't we let them know what it was we demanded?"

"We would have if it wasn't for Kloser," he continues with spite in his voice. "He insisted we withhold that information. This way it's up to the American government to either explain to its people or not. In a way show them good faith in not totally embarrassing them."

Still not convinced, Rudolph was about to question Hanson again when Fredrich interrupted. "Sir, something strange has happened at the FBI building, it's all over the news."

"Quick then, turn it on," Hanson demands.

"—in a tragic turn of events, the FBI parking structure has seemed to have been attacked. Sources are saying it may be another terrorist attack possibly linked to today's message from the group known as Ghost. It's still unknown since the group or any other group has yet to take credit for it. We have footage of what appears to be a man and a woman leaving the structure just before to complete collapsed. Whether they are responsible or simply bystanders are not confirmed at this time. FBI spokesperson has refused to give—"

"Shut it off," orders Hanson.

Fredrich did so and then stood by waiting silently waiting for the rant that was sure to come. Instead Hanson turned to him and said, "Good work Fredrich. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Even Rudolph was astonished by Hanson. He was nice once in a while, but never like this in front of the soldiers.

To Fredrich he says, "I want you to find out who is responsible for this, if no one lays claim within twenty-four hours, then we shall. We'll declare it as a warning that we do mean business, to quell any doubt the people or government may have about us."

The men praised him, shouting his name. He felt invincible at this moment, his dreams were falling in place, and soon he'd have all he wanted.

He wasn't always like this, but this is what a world of fools could turn someone into. Growing up in Germany wasn't how he liked it to have been. His father belonged to a protest group. They were a non violent group, just trying to get the government to change their ways. The group was more an irritation the government than a threat. After several years of protest, nothing ever changed. There were those in the group that felt they needed to create the change by taking a more aggressive action.

Only a quarter of the group felt otherwise, his father included. His father stayed with the group, and those that thought the same, continued their non violent protests. The others, however, caused mayhem and destruction. The government set up a task force to root out everyone in the group. Slowing over the matter of a few months, members started turning up missing or dead. Even his father who believed in a peaceful solution and his mother who had nothing at all to do with it were killed. Murdered in their own home by German soldiers. He was found hiding under his parent's bed, he was forced to watch them murdered, and then he was put into an orphanage.

Here he grew up along with his best friend Rudolph Verner. Rudolph's parent's we're killed similarly. They both had resentment toward the government. A few years after being forced to leave the orphanage they created Ghost. With the corruption of governments around the world and America leading the way, they decided to put matters into their own hands. Finding help was anything but hard.

"Put the girl back in her cell and get her fed and cleaned. If the Americans don't start following our demands in a few days, we'll need to put on another public showing. Let the men celebrate, they deserve it after all we've gone through, I'll be in my office."

Walking back to his office he thought to himself. Everything is falling into place, once I get rid of Kloser, everything will be perfect.

He couldn't help but smile, he wished his father was here to see him.