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Wasn't there a thread somewhere that said you had left for something or other?

I don't know.

Well, either way, I enjoyed this. Even if it was, in Xendane's opinion(he's too lazy to log on and read it himself so he's looking over my shoulder), "Too purple".

I'm doing a bit of both. But that Sniper story won't be put up here.

If people want to find it, they'll have to check Xendane's deviantART page. http://jhaley959.deviantart.com/

NOTICE:

OMG BOMB WHY?! can only come on every one or two days. You'll have to talk to him when the week is out if you want to say hi.

I have no choice but to laugh at you now, Salem.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please, don't 1337 speak in front of me... I'm already sick, 1337 speak's gonna' make it wor- oh, son of a b*tch...

HEAVY SIGH.

Fine. If you've been a part of Team Ocefir for more than two years, OR if you've known at least one of the members from some time ago, you can join.

There, Parora, are you happy now?

That's... certainly an interesting username you've got there...

How about, Laughing like a maniac when I kill Xigbar, but then crying after immediately dying against Saix?

Uh, I'm not sure if this is already dead or not, but... well, if you want to know about Jason... ask him yourself. Look for username Xendane, I'm sure you'll get some answers. Or he'll just say, "What the hell? Go away, stop asking questions."

yeah, I know. I'm sounding like Morgan, aren't I?

By the way, before I put up the next SIERRA chapter, somebody asked me for a list of all the main characters in the story, and their backgrounds.

Here it is(Well, I could only really fit two on there. I'll put up some others with each new chapter):

Morgan Remington
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 0" exactly
Appearance: Looks like me, only with a shorter hairdo.
Position: Secondary medic/sniper, but alternates to Commando from time to time
Background: Born in St. Luna, Morgan Remington joined the marines at the(somewhat young)age of seventeen and applied for the GHOST Elites, considered the Specialists among soldiers and spies. They say the test to become an Elite is enough to make anybody who can't handle the pressure snap. It's composed of seventy questions, each one ten times harder than the last, and only the most intelligent of people can pass it. Only one instance had occured where anybody had gotten an A + on the test. That would be Morgan's achievement. The physical test is also ten times more stressful than that of normal marines.

Once you complete both the physical and mental challenges, you are implanted with a small microscopic chip energized with some form of crystal called Tiberia. This enables the GHOST Elites' specialty: Invisibility. For Morgan, however, that isn't entirely true. His chip was placed wrong and he slowly mutated to the point where only one part of his body could turn invisible at a time. He was re-placed and became a Marine. What he didn't expect from the Marines hit him square in the face when he met Matroya, who he describes as "The first son of the Devil himself sent to Earth to enforce torment and suffering upon the weak". Matroya is one of the only people who immediately noticed Morgan's unnerving ability to accurately describe any event in the form of a random guess, even if it was top secret and confidential from all society except for a spare few people, and he was the only person to immediately link it to his mutation while he was still a GHOST.

Jason Matroya
Age: 29
Gender: Male
Height: almost 7' 0"
Appearance: Red hair reaches waist, and piercing blue eyes. The red hair and blue eyes are deads give-aways that he comes from the Matroya family, regarded to be one of the most dangerous lines still alive, other than the Brinks, the Swaydes, and the Haleys.
Position: Regiment Leader, and he makes sure you damn well know it
Background: Born in St. Luna, Jason Matroya, from birth, was trained by his father, former DELTA Major James Matroya, in the ways of combat, while his mother gave him all the information he'd ever need on guns. When he was about sixteen, he was sent to a training facility regarded as the most deadly facility a man could ever be trained at, Quatero - X, where if you died, nobody cared, if you cried, nobody cared, if you were weak, you were shot, and if you gave up before training was over, you were whipped and then spit on. People said that one of the training exercises in that facility was for endurance: Nailing you to a wall and then beating you repeatedly with a nine-tail whip until you cried for mercy. It was no surprise when Matroya came out as the resident bad-ass he is today. Stories say his first days in the Original Roughnecks were filled with nothing but bloodshed, and he laughed through every moment of it all. He was only 18 by the time he became a Captain.

Some time later, he was offered by his higher ups to become a Sierra, which, if you ever played Halo, is like a Spartan. Originally, Matroya turned down the offer. But after his daughter, Diana, was born and his wife died of cancer and he was nearly killed in Alciudad, Jason reconsidered and thought that maybe it would be best for him to take the offer instead. He wasn't the only Roughneck who got upgrades; his two closest companions in the Original Roughnecks, Julius "The Terminator" Bartz and Captain Jarred "Eagle Eye" Harrison, also had themselves altered in a way that made them more efficient in combat. "As if we weren't already" commented Bartz. His alteration was that his right arm was surgically replaced, by choice, with a bionic arm that could transform into any weapon he wanted it to. At the time, his favorite weapon was the Minigun. So that's what he normally changes his arm into. As for Harrison, his hand was altered into an unbreakable metal glove that had claws embedded in the knuckles that he used for close up combat and silently removing enemies during recon missions.

Matroya is the only known person to date who has the same qualities as a GHOST Elite but refuses to become one. His reason: "One, I like being loud, rambunctious and painful to watch. Two, I'm smart, but I ain't that smart."

It was good, but I might suggest with each new paragraph that you skip a line or two so that people don't get caught up and confused because it looks like one huge, rambling sentence.

Other than that, I have no complaints.

Glad to hear it. This must have taken you forever to write though.

I forget; am I writing chapter two, or is it Bryce?

Okay, here's how it goes.

GHOST Elites are given a special microscopic implant that is triggered when the small electrical currents in the nerves from the brain come in contact with it. Being that this is a dangerous operation to undergo, and many times people don't survive it, the GHOST Elites are treated as an upper class. You already know this.

Well, on the rare occassion where a doctor misplaces the implant, or when the person in question has a stronger and more active nervous system than normal, the time it takes to adapt to the abilities brought on by the implant is shortened, but it's shortened to the point where any false movement could be dangerous to the human body's form. If the implant is triggered too many times or with too strong a shock, one of two things could happen:

1. The strong shock could destroy the implant, which in turn could detonate and destroy the human body because of it's compact and highly explosive materials leaking out at speeds too great for the body to handle, therefore turning a GHOST Elite into GHOST Elite Toothpaste.

2. Triggering the implant's powers too many times while prematurely developed could cause its materials to leak out into the bloodstream, not only mutating the GHOST Elite in question, but also making him slightly paralyzed, or comatose. The symptoms could last anywhere from three weeks to a year, though some cases have stretched longer than that. By the way, this is where the "Infected" class come from, though the real name for them is Premature GHOSTs.

Because of these two factors, a Prematurely Developed GHOST Elite is forbidden to use his or her powers excessively, or for that matter, at all, and therefore must apply for a different military status(like Marine or Army soldier).

That's what happens, Salem.

Chapter 8: It's All In The Head

Much discipline was had when the team returned. But it wasn't by Matroya, who was out doing his own little recon with the other high ranking members of Red Team, which was the Alpha team of the group. It was instead issued by Colonel Grey Samuelson of Charlie Team, or Gold Team. In the Roughnecks, there were three teams, and you were placed accordingly based upon how long you'd been a Roughneck, how hard you'd fought to survive, and how many wars you'd participated in, as was made known by the name of said war tattooed on every member of the Roughneck's arm.

Red team was the most experienced, the most dangerous when encountered, and the most hardened of the three. To be eligible for Red team, you had to have been a Roughneck for at least six years, you had to have participated in at least twenty wars and lived through them all.

Green team was the second most hardened and dangerous. To be eligible, you had to be a Roughneck for at least four years, participated in at least ten wars, and lived through them all.

Gold team was the wild card. On one side, it was the least dangerous and least experienced team, but on the other side, it was the most revered team. To be eligible for Gold team, you either had to be an Elite soldier of any class, which included Special Elites, GHOST Elites, Tank Brigade Elites, and Aerial Elites, or you had to be a Roughneck for at least a year, participated in one or two battles, and lived through them. Morgan was currently a member of this team, and his squad leader was less than impressed with his performance. Green team's members got no better a result, and Jason's squad was out on a mission, so he was waiting in rigid silence for his squad leader to lay the hurt on.

"I don't know what you did or why, Remington, but if you were a part of my squad and you f*cked up a mission as badly as you did today, I'd have had your stripes in an instant." Samuelson made no effort to raise his voice. It wasn't necessary. Over eighteen years of war had made him threatening enough, even if nobody had pissed him off during the day. Considering Samuelson had entered the war at age seventeen and was now thirty years old, it was easy to believe when he said he'd nearly seen it all: The death of a brother, the blood of an ally spewing across the walls, the erratic jerking of a soldier as he was gunned down where he stood. And every person who looked at him saw that experience in his eyes. He wore the same look as another man, Dr. Shero Yakuto, who had inadvertently called Hell into existence and had to fight his way out of it.

Morgan felt his spine grow weak with each word Samuelson said.

"It doesn't matter if you saved any hostages or not, the point is, had the situation not turned out as it had when we reviewed the footage from your eyepiece, you would all have been killed. And Jason already explained our policy in the Roughnecks: If you die, one way or another, it was your fault. Next time you get sent on a mission, I might as well go with you to make sure you don't screw it all up again. For now..." Samuelson sat down. His legs were tired from having stood for the last five hours.

"...Let's just put the past behind us. Besides, I've got something to ask you." Morgan had a feeling he knew exactly what the question was going to be. Undoubtedly, Samuelson had heard from... reliable sources... that Morgan had somehow solved the puzzle behind his disappearance. And undoubtedly, Samuelson wanted answers.

"How is it that you knew so much about me? There's no possible way that you could have hacked the codes guarding the information about me. You couldn't have snuck in, you would've been shot down while you were still moving towards the building. My closest friends made a solemn vow to never tell anybody the truth behind me. Anybody who knew the story would end it with a lie; that I was part of the Air Force. How is it that you found out about me?" Samuelson wasn't mad, surprised, happy, or discouraged. His face retained its blank, insomniac appearance.

"I-it was a guessing game, sir..." Morgan replied, having a generally hard time meeting Samuelson's eyes. Which was certainly a first for him. He'd never met anybody who had that kind of effect on people.

"A guessing game that you just so happened to know the exact answer to? And again, with the Sierra program. It was top secret, and nobody, not even the military, not even the highest ranking government official, was allowed to see it. To even know about it, you either had to be an experiment from the program itself, or you had to be one of the three heads of the program. You met neither of those requirements."

"I-"

"And then there was the incident where you accurately described the inner workings of the Artificial Intelligence in Matroya's head. He never tells anybody that, not even when questioned by his higher ups."

"Uh-"

"I think there's more to you than we know. We may need to check that head of yours when we return to base." With that, Samuelson got up and walked away, leaving Morgan dumbfounded. What could possibly be in his head that would make Colonel Grey Samuelson, War Hero of St. Binah, this worried?

~~~~~

Matroya made no attempt to speak to any of the members involved with the safe return of the hostages. Instead, he took Ace aside with the other Red Team Roughnecks, including Jason and Leif, and asked him a series of questions regarding his reason for being anywhere in the area. Apparently, he and the rest of his squad were there on an emergency joint-recovery mission of class- A priority with Lt. Col. Scott Heatherow's squad. An important person to the military had been taken hostage and the people who were holding him threatened to have him assassinated unless their demands were met. While the rest of his and Heatherow's squad got in and out with the man in safe hands, Ace got caught and was used as the replacement. Now that he was in the Roughneck's hands, he figured they'd come looking for another person of general importance to use. Bartz had laughed at this and said, "If they're so desperate for a hostage, why not take me and Matroya? We'll make short work of them."

"Exactly who was it that was so important to the military?" Harrison asked, ignoring Bartz's sly remark.

"John Yu, the General's best hacker. He's the one who was responsible for that drug bust you guys took care of a while back." Ace replied.

"So then, how did Leif end up in the mix?" Haley asked.

"He was sent on a recovery mission to save us," Ace said.

"Oh yeah, I remember that," Bryce said, listening in from the side. "He'd said he got called out on a mission just before he left."

"Why did they take John Yu? Why not somebody like Nolan?" Matroya asked.

"Because, they wanted it to be ordered by the General himself that their demands be met. If anything different was set in motion, they threatened to kill John, and after that, who knows what might have happened?"

"So then why didn't they send in Swayde? Why did it have to be you? We could've spared an entire recovery mission if they had sent him in," Matroya said, rubbing his forehead, trying desperately to make sense of it all.

"Swayde said he didn't want to be halfway through the mission, then have something go wrong and have John get killed."

"Hm. There may be more to this than we think," Matroya said to himself.

~~~~~

Matroya decided that they'd send in a second strike and see what they could dig up. In the mean time, Ace was welcome to stay with them until help arrived to take him back to his base.

"Funny," Ace said to Matroya. "I always thought you Marines were stuck up. Guess I should tell the Army the rivalry's off?"

"Oh, now, don't you go getting any ideas," Matroya replied. "Hey, Remington!" he called. Morgan looked up from his book.

"Ever played Chess?" Matroya asked, gesturing to a chess board in front of him. Morgan shrugged and walked over.

It took a while for the game to finally end. Morgan found that Jason was extremely adept at Chess, and any situation Morgan put him in was eventually maneuvered out of. Morgan lost once out of twelve times, and he had a feeling he knew what Matroya was up to. No doubt Samuelson had tipped him off about his worries, and Matroya, with no help from his A.I., Omega, as the people who made him called him, had decided to test Morgan's mental abilities. Obviously, Morgan wasn't bad at Chess, and especially not against somebody who had two minds and was struggling to pull off just one move. But as he got up to leave, Matroya tapped the chess board again to grab his attention.

"Alright, Remington, spill it. What's in your head that makes you like a human A.I.?" Matroya asked, suddenly serious.

"Wha-?"

"Obviously, you couldn't do this on your own. You adapted far too easily to the situation at hand during that drug bust, and my men were struggling not to lose their lives. You located and saved three hostages in under five minutes. When I was a spy, it took me all night just to find what I needed, and that was under some of the most dangerous circumstances you could put a person into. You knew about Grey Samuelson, but nobody else knows about him other than he died. You were able to relate the Sierra project in a heartbeat. And you beat me at a game of Chess eleven out of twelve possible times. So I'm going to need some answers here." Matroya had a look in his eye that made his family all too well known by their enemies. It was a look of persistence that would have pissed off anybody who wanted a Matroya to get off their backs. Morgan, however, was scared that Matroya wasn't giving up so easily.

Then again, it was his policy not to shoot anybody unless they had entered a five foot radius.

"Sir, to be honest, I don't even know. I applied for the GHOST Elites, but after the operation, they said that I had successfully been able to adapt to the GHOST Elites' standards, but I had done so far earlier than I should have, and they said that because of that, I was unstable and could break down at any time," Morgan replied, shaking his head.

"So you mean to tell me that you're a prematurely developed GHOST?" Matroya asked in disbelief. All the Roughnecks suddenly turned and stared at Morgan with eyes wider than he felt was humanly possible.

"...To put it bluntly... yes." Morgan said. He proved it when his arm suddenly showed disappeared. "They said that even though I correctly adapted, because I did so at such an early time, my powers would come to me slower than normal, and they said that I should refrain from using them if I want to keep myself in as stable a condition as possible."

"If I may interject," Omega said, suddenly appearing in the air. Jason rolled his eyes.

"What, Omega?" Matroya asked in annoyance.

"How is it possible that one such as yourself could adapt so quickly to the effects of an operation that, in itself, takes months to recover from completely?" Omega asked, flickering as he did so.

"Don't know. That's something I can't answer," Morgan replied.

"Then we shall have to look into this when we return to headquarters after our mission here in the Vakara Islands is completed," the program said before dematerializing back into Jason's head.

"I hate it when he starts talking," Matroya muttered. "Alright, listen. Let's get ready to head out. We have a mission to complete, Roughnecks, and I want it done by tomorrow morning."

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. In the original Sierra series, it was explained that a prematurely developed GHOST was not only rare, but dangerous and extremely unstable, so unstable, in fact, that if an Elite screwed up once, it could mean the end of him. And if it didn't kill him, it would definitely mutate him in some way, thus ending his career, since the GHOST Elites can't afford any failures in their operations.

2. Omega is one of at least twenty remaining A.I.s from the Sierra project. His memories were from the mind of a fallen Sierra, and said memories were merged with the technical brilliance of the bio-technicians, therefore creating Omega, a half-human A.I.

3. In actuality, Grey Samuelson had been in war for over thirty years, but that was a well-concealed fact that not even Morgan knows. Samuelson also concealed the fact that he was also a prematurely developed GHOST Elite, and that his mutation caused him to have a considerably longer lifespan.

4. Jason Matroya's original A.I. was a female A.I. called Morwenna, but after some freak accident occurred during one of his missions, Morwenna's data was somehow transferred into Jason's laptop. He says, "It was kinda' like half my brain got torn out and turned into silly putty, and some weird doctor used the silly putty to make a super-advanced computer game."

Enjoy

Thanks for helping me finish the chapter, Jase.

Chapter 7: Rescue

Morgan had personally requested to go with Jason, Dusti, Bryce and Parora to bust out the three hostages. They were all friends with the hostages, and they felt therefore it was correct to try and save their friends. Matroya had seen nothing to argue about, so he had agreed to let the five rescue the hostages. Though, if he had a choice, he would've sent in the professional Roughnecks, himself, Bartz and Harrison, to do the job.

The small rescue team made their way through the night to the base and quietly slipped in through the bushes in back. Jason peeked out from behind the wall and, with his silenced P-228, took out the guard directly in front of him. Since it was so dark, it wasn't like anybody would've seen him.

Morgan darted forward and grabbed the guard, then dragged him back behind the building. A second later, he popped back out wearing the guard's outfit, then strode up to the building and requested access. The guards looked at him blankly, then shrugged and stepped away from the doors so he could get in. The fools they had sent to guard the fort...

Jason, Dusti, Bryce and Parora all climbed in through the window. Five guards would cause suspicion, all walking in the front door. Especially since Dusti wasn't exactly the smallest person in the world. And the guards here weren't big. They were pretty shrimpy.

When questioned by Morgan as to why he had to go incognito, Jason replied, "Because you're the rookie, and the rookies always get the crap jobs."

Joy...

~~~~~

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the building, Leif was the only hostage not asleep, and he had remembered that in his back pocket was a lock pick in case he needed it. He pulled it out and carefully undid the locks on his shackles, making sure he was quiet about it, since there were two guards right in front of him. As soon as the metal bracelets that constricted his hands came undone, Leif slowly got to his feet, grabbed the two guards' heads, and slammed them together as hard as he could. They were out instantly. He turned around and jolted Scott and Ace awake. When they saw he had gotten out, excited smiles crossed their faces.

Leif undid their cuffs, then the three grabbed the weapons off the guards and ran to the doors.

~~~~~

"Morgan, are you sure we're going the right way?" Bryce asked for the fifth time during mission.

"Yes, I am entirely sure, this module has an automated map in it, and it says we're going the right way!" Morgan replied.

"Well, sorry for asking," Dusti said, mockingly.

"All of you just cram it, Morgan still a rookie, remember?" Jason said accusingly to the three following him. Bryce and Dusti shifted uncomfortably, but Parora, who had been strangely quiet, kept looking straight ahead. Morgan didn't have to ask why; Parora always turned ridiculously serious in situations like these.

~~~~~

Leif, Ace and Scott silently made their way through the hallways, making sure they said the right things so the guards wouldn't be suspicious. Leif had a feeling that Jason was somewhere nearby; he didn't know how he knew, nor why, but he had a feeling that somebody familiar was nearby, and therefore, he wanted to hurry and get out of there as fast as possible-

"There! Those are the f*ckers that escaped!"

-Damn.

~~~~~

Jason heard the faint sounds of gunfire and felt his heartbeat jump from normal to emergency backup. He darted ahead of Morgan and pulled out his other trusted friend: A knife with an eagle's head as the pommel of the hilt. Jason held it in a reverse grip... really, he had no choice. The knife was made so that you could only hold it in a reverse grip, and if you weren't particularly good with that kind of grip, then you had no business holding the knife.

"Jason, wait!" Dusti cried, unintentionally giving the others away as well. Morgan had never seen so many guards charge into a room at a time.

"Son of a b*tch!" Bryce shouted as he pulled out his FAL and began firing, dropping one guard after another. Parora turned around and took out what Morgan made out to be an AUG with an attached grenade launcher. Dusti ran to catch up with Jason, but Morgan stayed behind to help Bryce and Parora. Jason and Dusti were very much capable on their own, and Morgan knew this from experience.

He dropped to his knee beside Bryce and pulled out his M16(he refused to carry enemy weapons when possible)and opened fire on their knees. Knees, because Recon missions were typically not meant to kill anybody. But, this one had turned and gone to hell.

"Jesus-f*cking-Christ! If you guys were part of the spy business, I would have had you all Protocol Sixed before you could say your mother's name! Listen, the mission's gone to hell, now the objectives are to just get the hostages, and yourselves, out alive and back to base. Understand? Don't f*ck this one up too!" Matroya called in over the radio. Everything that was happening, he saw from the team's Trident night vision goggles. Morgan felt like the biggest ******bag as he continued his defensive barrage. There wasn't adequate cover in the hallways, so they were forced to chuck grenades when they could.

~~~~~

Meanwhile on the other side of the equation, Jason and Dusti were having troubles of their own. They had located Leif and the others, but when they got in the room, a massive hailstorm of bullets flew at them. Jason, who was quite adept at using his knife, put its strong blade to good use by deflecting bullets when he could as he made his way over to Leif. One person jumped out in front of him-

Bam. Knife through the carotid artery.

Jason ditched his knife and pulled out the two Uzis that were strapped to his legs. He didn't like automatic pistols, but he didn't care about what weapon he was using at the moment. As their clips were quickly emptied into the bodies of the guards, Jason rolled out of the way of a grenade and picked up, of all things, a rocket launcher near some boxes, stuffed a rocket into its barrel, leveled it on his shoulder at some guards behind boxes, and fired, turning the guards into a new form of meat: Rocket-broiled.

"Jason! Behind you!" Dusti screamed, his voice rebounding off the walls.

Jason turned a second too late and was met with a gun to his face, and as the man pulled the trigger...

...What?

Jason felt that he should be seeing white right about now, had it not been for Leif's sudden appearance. Leif had hit the guard's head with the butt of his gun so hard that it was now lodged in the man's disfigured cranium. Leif shoved them both aside, and, breathing heavily, helped Jason to his feet. Dusti came out from behind cover. "Are they all gone?" he asked.

"Not hardly. There's going to be a whole sh*tload of them coming for us now," Ace replied, glancing nervously behind him at the door they had entered from.

"Then grab some guns, kiddo," Scott said as he tore the lid off of a box holding grenades, and then another box that held the mother load of AK-74s. Ace, meanwhile, had found himself a nice little toy: The flamethrower.

"Leif, I found this for you," Jason said. Leif turned around and was met with a Dragunov flying at him. He deftly caught it.

"Eh, not exactly a Covert, but it'll do..." he muttered.

"Well, if you guys are done talking, I'd advise that you all get back to base now," Matroya piped in over the radio. The radios worn by Matroya's Roughnecks were not the conventional ones. They were instead embedded in the ears and throats of the people who wore them, and to communicate, all one had to do was gently press their Adam's apple and speak. Ace, who was still part of the Army and hadn't transferred like Scott and Bryce, didn't have one of these, and he was left wondering why everybody in the room was tapping their inner ears.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Scott said, taking charge as squad leader(technically, he was a squad leader by default because of his rank, Lieutenant Colonel)and ran out of the rooms, the others in tow.

~~~~~

Morgan caught sight of the others and yelled to Parora and Bryce, "We have to get out of here!" Nobody really needed to be told. The three jumped to their feet and, making religious use of smoke grenades, ran from the building with the others.

Seven Marines and an Army soldier could just barely be made out as they disappeared in the trees once more. The guards who hadn't fallen to the assault were now angrily storming from the building, wondering where the sorry b*stards who tore up their base and took their prisoners were.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. I love using the AW Covert sniper rifle. It's a rifle with a built in silencer that renders it nearly soundless. Perfect for any sniper who knows what he's doing. Not the strongest, sure, but that doesn't really matter.

2. Jason and I would literally die for each other, if you're wondering how close we really are.

3. Ace and the flamethrower are like Jason and the eagle-head knife or me and the sniper rifle: We go hand in hand.

4. I was actually surprised that Jason didn't make use of Haley-Do(or, in Russian, as it originated there: мертвый жизнь бой, Deadly Life Combat, the art of killing without killing) in this chapter. Or did he? I dunno...

5. Jason's knife was made by an expert craftsman who's name I can't remember. The guy acts French, but he's really Finnish.

6. Bryce Emmet, Ace Myron, Scott Heatherow, Sam Heatherow, and Houston Harley are all vehicle mechanics. They work in their own shop. They mainly work on creating their own bikes and cars, but every so often I send my bike in for repairs(or a paint job).

7. Seven Marines- Me, Jason, Bryce, Parora, Dusti, Scott, Morgan. One Army Soldier- Ace, of course.

No, it's taking a while because I have other things to do at the moment.

~~~~~

EDIT: I wish I could say I was surprised that I was off so long, but I'm not going to, since I know exactly why I was off for so long.

Listen, I'll have Chapter 7 up soon. I'm working on it.

Exactly.

By the way, I AM in this story, this is my first entry.

Chapter 6: Jump

Morgan had thought the next mission would be fun, but he hadn't expected to go jumping from an airplane. That was just badass. How many times did a rookie commando like him get to jump from planes? Only in his free time, that's how many.

He, Hunter, Wolf, May, Julie and Sarge were all sitting together on the plane. Jason had said to form teams of two, one person to shoot, the other to navigate. Julie had slyly remarked that she and Morgan would make an excellent jump team. But, Morgan caught on and teamed up with Hunter instead, much to Julie's annoyance.

"I have my reasons," he had said when Hunter asked what all that was about.

Now, the bay doors of the plane were opening, and Matroya stood up in front of the Roughnecks. He had to scream to be heard. "Listen up! We're about to jump! Everybody do a gear check!"

One by one, marines slapped each other on the shoulders and screamed "Okay!" in their ears. When the last person had done this, Matroya told them to strap themselves up. Morgan would be the guy shooting in his two-man team, as Hunter's gun wasn't very good at long range. Morgan this time wielded an M16 carbine. A better weapon for this job, and its three-bullet burst would make short work of anybody who just would not stay dead. It also helped him conserve ammo.

Julius Bartz had hooked up with Matroya. Julius was a full foot taller than Matroya, but the fact that Jason wasn't a very tall shield didn't bother anybody. Jason gave the go signal, and one by one, two man teams jumped from the plane. After a certain distance, the navigators pulled the parachute strings.

"Uh, Hunter, why aren't you pulling your string?" Morgan shouted.

"I am pulling it! The damn thing's jammed!"

"For the love of Christ!" Morgan shouted, pulling out his pistol and shooting the parachute pouch, releasing the rectangular piece of fabric into the air. Hunter grabbed the hand grips and navigated over to the rest of the group. So far, nobody but Morgan had had any reason to shoot, so all was quiet, except for incoming orders from Matroya.

"Once we touch down, Taylor, Train and Remington are going to set up our big guns to give us cover while we slip inside the base. I'll give the go sign when it's clear to move forward." He cut the radio from that point, until they all touched down and unhooked themselves.

Morgan ran over to Taylor and Seboro's position with an M60 turret. Seboro loaded it, while Taylor set it up. Morgan pulled out his M16, loaded all the clips, and then placed one of the said clips into the gun. He flipped open the mini scope and took aim. Seboro had taken out an L85A1 rifle and was now doing the same.

"Taylor! Open up!"

Taylor slammed home every round that he fired. Every person that fell was peppered with tracers as Taylor emptied ammo box after ammo box.

Morgan and Seboro had a pattern worked out. Seboro would disarm them, and Morgan would finish them off. It seemed to be working out well.

Before long, Captain Haley called in on the radio: "Guys, move up! The area's clear!"

Morgan jumped up and ran out into the open, followed by Taylor with a UMP and Seboro with his L85A1. Captain Haley waited for them to catch up, then ran into a nearby building where the rest of the Roughnecks were. The team's communications expert, Corporal Jet Leroy, was busy confirming to the people behind this mission that area 1 was clear and that there were seven more needed to be cleared out, from what the scouts had reported. He also added, "It looks a lot like the weapon dealers from our last mission, but I think they've got drugs this time. The scouts aren't exactly sure yet. We'll let you know when we find it, sir."

Drug cartels and weapon dealings? Morgan felt a grin pass over his face. This was going to be fun.

Jason looked up as he heard the radio squelch. "Do they have any orders?" he asked.

"They say to keep a steady watch on area 2 and see if there's anything related to a drug cartel of any sort. Should we set up scouting teams?" Leroy asked.

"Yeah. Morgan, you, Wolf and Seboro will be Alpha team. Taylor, Jericho and Haley, you guys will be Beta team. Samuelson, Harrison and Tanner will be Charlie team. We'll stay here and hold the fort until you guys get back. Move!"

Morgan and his team split off to the right as they reached the brush. They ducked down under some low hanging leaves and crept along until they reached a fallen tree close to where they were going to be scouting. Wolf pulled out a pair of binoculars with 4x zoom, night vision, heat vision, and Electromagnetic Pulse(EMP) sensors, while Morgan flipped up a small antenna on his earpiece. This would relay whatever Wolf saw over to Morgan's earpiece, where it would be tactically laid out from that position. Train would guide Wolf's vision to any important places.

"Wolf, that big building in the center. Heat vision."

"Looks like... maybe sixteen or seventeen tangos and three hostages. And it looks like... yep, command was right. They're all our guys. Hey, is that Captain Markus?" Wolf said, looking hard into the binoculars.

"Aw man, Haley's not going to like this..." Morgan muttered as the three green diamonds identified themselves: Sergeant Ace Myron, Lieutenant Colonel Scott Heatherow, and Captain Leif Markus. Upon further investigation, as Morgan got a readout of how well they were equipped, he figured they must have been on a recon mission. In recon missions, the main objective is to do everything and not get caught, whether that requires you to silently assassinate anybody who might cause an alarm, or throwing a smoke bomb, or even taking out security cameras. Recon soldiers were armed with smoke bombs, demo kits, electronic kits, heartbeat sensors, night vision, and probably the most obvious, dark clothing. They usually worked well at night, where it was optimal because normally, guards would be tired or unable to see very well without some sort of constriction.

But... the thing about this particular recon team was... they weren't a real recon team.

Leif was a Sniper who was well aware of his abilities and once had a bounty on his head because of them, but that was cleared by the government long ago. Scott Heatherow was an Assault unit who could remain calm in most any dangerous situation, and worked exceptionally well if his younger brother, Sam Heatherow, was there with him. And Ace, Ace wasn't even a Marine. He was part of the Army, and was a Mechanical Sergeant. He was responsible for taking care of the vehicles, computers, guns, what have you, because the people who were trained to take care of those objects were either too lazy, badly injured, or dead. Ever since St. Binah had joined forces with the World Defensive Initiative(W.D.I.)'s Colonial Militia in Kasaro, the Army had seen a lot of action.

And its involvement here must have been a joint drug bust gone wrong.

"Alpha team reporting three hostages, two of them are Marines, one Army. Identified as Sergeant Ace Myron, Lieutenant Colonel Scott Heatherow, and Captain Leif Markus. Situation looks stable for now. Returning to base, over." Train waited. Finally, "Report received, Private. Awaiting your arrival, over."

"Come on, let's go back. We've mapped everything out," Train said, motioning them to follow. Morgan knew when he got back to their little hideaway, Jason was going to smack him so hard...

Wham!

...Or maybe punch him square in the face.

Before Jason could hurt anybody else, Admiral Bartz had slammed him to the floor with his hands behind his back and his head unable to be moved.

"Okay, Haley, you really need to calm down. We all get it, your friends are all trapped, and you're just as pissed as we are. But you don't need to take it out on the rookies, or any of us either, okay?" Bartz said, keeping Jason firmly pinned despite the fact that Jason was putting up a meaningless struggle.

Finally, after a few more seconds, Captain Haley had calmed down enough for Bartz to let him up. Haley walked over to Morgan and helped him to his feet. "Sorry, it just bugs me, that's all," he said, an oops-I-f*cked-up smile on his face.

"Nah, man, I get it." Morgan walked over to his medical kit and pulled out an ice pack to put on his already bruising face. Captain Haley didn't hit particularly hard, but he hit fast, and that made up for any pain lost by hitting lightly.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. This chapter actually took me a while to write. I had to think to myself, What situations could I possibly make myself a hostage in, if it were real? Joint drug busts weren't really my forte, and neither were recon missions, since in a joint mission, one side's following their own protocol while you're following yours and it gets confusing, and in recon missions, if you're not a shadow, you're dead, or the mission fails. It seemed perfect for me.

2. Yes, Jason(Xendane) actually does get that pissed when I'm being hurt or held hostage or in any danger in any way, shape, or form. He's the last person you want to be near when he's heard I'm in trouble.

3. Yes, Morgan has felt a Haley punch. Suffice to say, He's never let Jason hit him again, for fear of what Jason might hit next time...

4. Bartz is unbelievably strong. He carries a minigun as a main weapon when in combat, he can bench press a jeep, and he can hold down a raging Marine on his own just by sitting on the guy. This is why he was so easily able to hold Jason(Xendane) down in this chapter.

5. The World Defensive Initiative is like the Global Defensive Initiative, but I didn't want to get sued for copyright, so I changed the title a bit. See, the G.D.I. is copyright of Command and Conquer. And the last thing I need is some company with tons of their games being sold(Ubisoft)coming and suing me for accidentally f*cking up and using one of their ideas without permission.

(By the way, Jase, I forget. Is Scott Heatherow Marines or Navy?)