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It was a miserable night. Rain was hammering down onto my combat suit and lightning was flashing across the black sky. I was a Marine, a member of the 404th Fire Team. We were special operations, a strike force; our unit had a proud history; although we still had to live up to our name. The fire team numbered five, three females and two males, were each had our own specialities.

I was distracted from my thoughts by a female voice coming over the comm. "Striker 3 this is Actual, radio check over." Our fire team leader was sub lieutenant Annabelle Rose. "Actual this is 3, reading you 5, 1 your accent is terrible over." I smiled as I replied. "3 this is Actual, I'll give you accent you cuss nut out" It was another couple of minutes before I got board. "4 this is 3 do you receive me over." There was a small delay before my mate responded. "3 this is 4 read you fine, what is your reason for calling over." Corporal Luke Rimper, demolition and heavy weapons expert. "4, just calling to socialise over." "3, if the sub caches you you'll be in trouble. After the last mission one more screw up and shell hang your-" "Radio silence, out" Annabelle was listening. She wasn't happy with me because last mission I crashed a really expensive drone into some important guys mansion. It was completely accidental and we did get good footage of him producing class A drugs in his living room, through the dust.

I am Jack Leion, close quarters and unarmed fighting expert. I am a Fenrrir, I stand at 5'11"; I have typical yellow eyes, muscular build and a courageous features I also had a cut behind my nose across the width of my snout stating from my left lip to the top right. It was from an exploding A.P.C. at a mission in Ilo were my previous squad were sent to take out a terrorist group at an oil refinery. Three marines died that day including my brother.

Then another female voice came across my comm. "3 this is Watcher, I can't seam to find you, please activate your tracker, over" I forgot to activate the small box under my left shoulder pad. "Watcher this is 3, tracker is active out." Leading sniper Taylor Loke was our Watcher, she would advise us on possible unseen threats.

Then the signal was given. "Strike team fire arms live." I flicked the safety off on my Xm12 rifle and checked to see if a round was in the chamber. "Strike team attach zip lines." I pulled a small grenade launcher off of my back and fired the hook with a rope attached towards the building. "Line 3 secure." The other three secured there lines. "Strike team hook up." I attached the hook around my waist to the rope above. "On go, three, two, one, GO!"

I leapt, moving with surprising speed down the zip line. I stuck my feet out strait and smashed through the window. Glass flew into the room and landed around me. The door burst open, a human male came in wearing a heat resistant vest and a G86. He raised the gun, I pulled the trigger. There was a flash of blue from the end of my gun and three plastic casing ejected out of the side. The man fell in a heap. I slowly made my way across the room to the door he came through. The corridor was well lit so I turned of the night vision on my H.U.D. I checked the right then the left as I moved into the corridor. The corridor had windows across the left side that looked over the warehouse floor.

I started moving slowly down the corridor towards the objective on my mini map. Then everything turned to chaos. An alarm started blaring and suddenly rounds were flying past me. I dove behind a box; taking a hit to the thigh which didn't pierce my combat suit. I attempted to shoot over the cover but an L.M.G. had pinned me. The box wouldn't last long under the barrage of ion particles. Then I had an idea.

I smashed the window next to my head and dove through the gap. The gun swung to hit me, the ion particle rounds penetrated the aluminium wall of the corridor leaving behind them a small hole. I was airborne for a couple of seconds before hitting the warehouse floor with a forward roll. I botched the landing up though and had to pick myself up under a hail of gunfire and move to cover.

I dove into a defendable position and started firing out. There were a number of enemies coming towards me. Most were ill trained and were finding it hard to hit me. I fired out at them with deadly accuracy falling six before having to reload. Then I was pinned down by the rat a tat of an L.M.G., my cover slowly being blown apart. "This is striker 3, under heavy small arms fire request assistance over."

Concrete chips and dust were flying over me. The L.M.G. stopped firing which gave me a small window of opportunity. I unhooked a grenade from my belt, pulled out the pin and lobed it at the L.M.G. before getting down into cover. There was a shout and a rush of feat, I popped up from my cover and opened fire. The grenade went of with a flash of blue and white with flying shrapnel and a lethal pressure wave. Then the whole warehouse went up.

There was a huge explosion as a container, which was full of explosives, in the middle of the warehouse floor went up. The sound would be defining to anyone not wearing ear protection. The shockwave blew me off my feat and sent me flying through the air. Projectiles flew past me, shrapnel embedding into my suit a piece cut across my visor. I crashed into the side wall of the warehouse with a crack. The heat then hit me it was enough to change the temperature inside my suit. Then it was over.

My ears were ringing and I was battered and bruised but I was alive. There was a creaking of metal and the cat walk around the warehouse fell down. I walked forward into the centre of the warehouse floor. There was now a deep crater and smouldering metal were a container used to be. I looked to the warehouse door. Amazingly there were survivors all trying to make the way out. I picked a target and fired at his leg. He crumpled in a heap and started screaming. My hearing cleared and there was an unmistakeable sound of a chopper taking off.

Annabelle sprinted past me and out the door changing the magazine in her Xm12. I followed her out side. A jet black router helicopter was warming up, a blue tarpaulin lying nearby. Annabelle started firing at the glass and I followed suit. However the glass was military grade ion particle proof. It would take an explosion to crack it. Not that the rest of the helicopter would survive the explosion. The helicopter lifted off the ground. Then it was up in the air flying away. Our H.V.T. had just got away. Annabelle was not going to be happy.