Loi Kolay Village, Kunar Providence

Korengal Valley, Afghanistan

2016

Xander Whitt adjusted the focus on his sniper scope and scanned the road leading to the small Afghani village 150 yards away. He settled the crosshairs on a billowing sand cloud in the distance. A caravan of Jeeps emerged from the cloud and sped toward the village.

"There they are..." Xander noted, eye to scope.

The local residents retreated back into their huts in fear, as the Jeeps skidded to a stop. Seven armed men got out of them, one of which Xander kept between his crosshairs.

Perched across the valley, Xander extracted a snapshot of the mission file from his photographic memory. He had received the picture of Samir Vashad and recognized the man's jet black, greasy hair that spiraled down into winding curls to his shoulders and the goatee that framed his square chin.

His memory then reproduced the text of the mission file.

US intelligence has decoded a stream of online terrorist network communications. The thread revealed a transfer of funds between Samir Vashad and an anonymous buyer – code name: Agent Zero. The true identity of Agent Zero remains unknown. Further analysis of online chatter confirms Agent Zero is planning an attack on US Soil in the Washington, DC area.

Mission: setup reconnaissance on the meet and intercept whatever is at the center of the exchange.

Xander listened through his earpiece as Vashad approached an unidentified elderly man and exchanged greetings. Assalamu 'alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh. Vashad was a man of faith who greeted the fellow Muslim with the peace, mercy and blessings of Allah. But Xander was focused on the elderly man.

That can't be Agent Zero. He must be a courier.

Xander was able to decipher through his scope that the meeting was quickly shifting to a professional tone.

"My employer informs me that Agent Zero has been receiving quite the attention, regarding this next target," Vashad said in Arabic.

Employer? Vashad is just a middle-man?

"You mean this one?" The elderly man held up an object wrapped in a cloth. He threw it over to him. Vashad unwrapped what looked like a wad of cloth but Xander could not see what lay inside the rag.

"What is this? This isn't what my employer asked for?" Vashad asked, bewildered.

"Yes it is. It is the target..." the elderly man said "And if I could please have what your employer has for us?" At that, Vashad handed a bag over to the elderly man, he dug through the bag and brought out to Xander's view a pile of Afghan bills and US dollars.

"That will be enough for your transit and operations stateside. My employer also assures you safe passage – off any watch lists. I hear your employer is hiring some help... you know we have armies dedicated to killing Americans here." Xander focused closely on their lips, watching them match the words coming from his earpiece. He also kept his eye on their throats, watching their Adam's apple ascend and descend as they formed the harsh, hacking words of the Arabic tongue.

"I'm unaware of Agent Zero's affairs. I am just the messenger," the elderly man explained.

"Praise be to Allah." Vashad smiled, bestowed a quick parting blessing and stashed the target in his coat.

Commence interception of target.

Xander immediately found the most distant man, sweeping the perimeter of the village. The cross hairs settled on his forehead and Xander fired. The silenced sniper bullet soared through the dry desert air. Its flight descended from the ridge and drove into the target. The man fell limp behind the Jeep. Two men had heard the noise, unsure of what it was, they investigated. As soon as they turned the corner to see their comrade's lifeless body two more pops put them down next to their friend. Everyone began scattering. An SUV pulled up and threw the elderly man inside, speeding off through the desert. Xander steadied his rifle on the SUV, but a cloud of sand billowed up from under the spinning tires blinding him. His scope turned from the vehicle and roved the village for another target.

From his vantage point he found a long-bearded man running to help. Xander tracked him through the scope and shot a round. The bullet caught the man in mid-stride through his knee. His knee bent sideways like the leg of a chair and the man collapsed under his own weight. The man's screams echoed through the valley to Xander's position, until he silenced them with another round into the man's chest.

Four down. Three to go.

Two of the remaining targets took cover behind a Jeep, but in different positions. They were shooting in every which direction. His probing eyes could not settle on a good line of sight. But a thought occurred that made Xander laugh to himself.

They have no idea where I am. Easy picking. What they don't know is that cars and trucks tend to make good grenades.

Xander aimed for the gas tank of the Jeep and fired three rounds with pinpoint accuracy. The Jeep shot up in an explosion and a fireball formed, enveloping the scene. At this, Xander dropped the rifle and sprinted at an incredible speed down the slope into the valley. He jumped down ledges and ridges rolling end over end to cushion each leap's landing. During his pursuit, he saw Vashad retreat into the complex. Each hut was connected so he could be in any one. Xander ran the 150 yards in under thirty seconds. When he reached the structure, he scaled its facade and ascended to the top of the complex in one fluid motion. He positioned his silencer Glock 9mm down the roof access hatch.

No sound. No movement.

Xander dropped down into the complex – rags and rusted pans hung about. Each unit was a depressed and impoverished shack where the families of poor farmers would live. Xander passed through what he guessed was a kitchen and met a family of six huddled in the corner. The kids quivered, terrified at the sight of the soldier. Xander brought a finger to his lips. He asked with a waving finger, Where is he? The mother, arms around all five children, understood and pointed down.

Xander in one quick swoop produced his candy bars and offered them to the trembling children huddled up to their mother. The children cracked a collective smile and Xander continued onward through the huts. He studied the infrastructure of the complex, noting where walls and supports would be located below. A stairwell led down to the second floor. Xander inspected the stairs with close focus and was careful to skip over the steps he thought would creak. He halted when the room before him came into view.

He saw the long greasy curls of Vashad's black hair shifting up and down from panicked breaths. Xander was right, Vashad was positioned behind a wall across from the entryway – he assumed Xander would be coming through the front door. Xander successfully flanked him and knew that now was the time to take him down.

He consulted his grenades strapped to his right leg, but decided upon the combat knife on his left ankle. He brandished the blade and started to sketch out a plan in his head.

I need Vashad's attention westward out of the complex. If I could hit Vashad's hand that's holding the gun I could disarm him and take him out manually afterward.

Xander took the roll of duct tape out of his bag. It was his best projectile at the moment. He aimed through the empty window frame and threw the roll. It soared through the air and landed out onto the street in front of the complex. Vashad heard the flitter of pebbles and turned westward, which diverted his attention to the ground floor outside the complex. In an instant, Xander popped from his cover and flung his knife through the air, end over end. It was thrown hard and fast slashing the tendons of the hand he had aimed for. Vashad's hand immediately spasmed in pain, causing him to drop the firearm. Now that he was disarmed, Xander charged shoulder first. He collided with him with such force – they crashed through the wall. Interlocked, they fell a story, landing with a thud on the dirt outside the complex. Dry mud and sticks flew like debris from an explosion.

Xander mounted Vashad whose chest heaved in an attempt to find a breath. Xander snatched the knife that was lying on the ground next to where they landed. He raised it and drove it down into Vashad's open palm, pinning him to the earth. Vashad screamed in agony.

"Who are you working for? What is the target?" Xander yelled his interrogation.

"I don't know..."

"I'm going to ask you again, who are you working for?! Who is helping Agent Zero get stateside?" Xander rummaged through Vashad's pockets and found what the exchange was for. It was something heavy wrapped in a wad of cloth. He shoved it into his combat pack.

"I don't know... it's been dark communication the entire time. I fly back and forth to the states and make drops." There was desperation in his voice.

He's telling the truth, damnit...

"You must have been given a name! Who do you work for?!"

"No, I don't! I swear, I don't know!" Xander twisted the knife that pinned his hand to the earth. Vashad screamed as his bones stirred within his palm. Xander leaned down to his ear and spoke a stinging whisper, as he grimaced in his anguish.

"Listen to me, Vashad. You messed with the wrong country, I promise you that. I am going to take you back to base and find out everything you know, however I have to." The adrenaline had murdered Xander's patience for pleasantries, but Xander had already seen honesty in his eyes. He didn't know anything. He was merely a pawn.

Xander swung his bag off his back and shuffled through it for his satellite phone. After dialing a number, he ascended off of Vashad and walked out into the open launching a canister, thirty yards from his position.

Crimson smoke started billowing out, forming a cloud around him.

"This is Rattlesnake, this is Rattlesnake, requesting extraction. Red smoke is out," Xander spoke into the satellite phone.

"Copy that Rattlesnake, extraction is en route," the voice responded in his ear. Xander hung up the satellite phone.

After a brief moment the phone rang.

As the red smoke encased him he was left to a whirlwind of his own thoughts.

Caller ID: 'Unknown'.

Xander was now alone in his solitude, encircled by the crimson smoke. The cries of Vashad's agony sounded in the distance. He questioned whether he should pick up the ringing phone for a second and with caution finally did.

"This is Rattlesnake..."

"You should have taken it easier on Vashad, he doesn't know anything." The voice on the other end was distorted, but somehow conveyed a calm, intellectual tone. Xander listened intently, sensing something ominous on the other end.

"Who is this?"

"I believe I'm the person you're looking for..." the voice almost hissed through the satellite phone. Xander's mouth dropped as the realization settled.

"Agent Zero..."

Xander circumnavigated the valley but could not see any possible spot for Agent Zero to be positioned.

"Nope, I'm not there... Sorry, I couldn't make the trip." At this, Xander's eyes turned skyward toward the distant satellite that Agent Zero must have been monitoring.

"There's the face I know so well..." the voice noted.

"You know me?" Xander asked, trying to glean any information he could, knowing the conversation would be short.

"Of course, I do...I know you very well. You were always the best recruit – Xander Whitt." Xander shuddered at the words, as his world turned. His name stung upon hearing it, only a select few people knew his true name.

"I don't know any terrorists, I've killed every one of them I've met," Xander snapped in anger.

"The difference between a terrorist and a patriot is merely a matter of perspective." Xander did not respond to the malevolent voice, rather his mind fastidiously processed every small detail of the conversation. Agent Zero continued.

"Who the hell is this?!"

"All in time, Xander, but to find that out, you are going to have to follow the trail," the voice hissed. A fear swept over Xander as he reached for the target intercepted. Agent Zero was a step ahead of him.

Agent Zero knew I was getting close and planned all of this, knowing I would intercept this...This package was meant for me all along.

"That's right Xander. You and your brilliant mind have probably realized by now that this package was intended for you. I knew you were coming for me, so I figured that I'd make this interesting."

Xander slowly brought the heavy item wrapped in cloth out of his bag and started unwrapping it. In the cloud of red smoke, Xander looked down at his hands – it was a stone brick with an engraving on it that read:

لا شيء يبدو كما هو

Translation: Nothing is as it seems...

Xander recognized the last line of the Project's Credo, something he had recited hundreds of times during training.

"The Project took everything from you and me. This is my reckoning for the wrongs our country has done to us. What Project Sparta has done. I assure you Xander, they were right.... Nothing is as it seems." Xander's mind spun along with the swirling red smoke. "In the end you will be faced with a choice, Xander. Did Project Sparta turn you into mindless soldier – a deadly machine, an emotion? Or did you maintain your humanity through it, objective and independent? There's the choice, Xander, will you act on emotion or reason? I know that conflict is in you.... And I really want to know the answer," Agent Zero said, again composed, as Xander grew more fierce.

"You listen here you piece of shit! I'm going to find you and I'm going to kill you! I'm going to stop your attack and slit your throat!" Xander yelled into the satellite phone, as he stuffed the brick back into his pack. He started pacing back toward Vashad through the red cloud of smoke to check on his only other lead to Agent Zero.

"There's that emotion I was talking about... Now I've left you enough breadcrumbs to follow. This is your game Xander. Play it well, people's lives depend on it. And Xander?"

There was a short pause, as Xander broke through the cloud of smoke and arrived at Vashad.

"I'd be careful, looks like Vashad got one of your grenades. Happy hunting..." The phone clicked dead.

Xander's eye met Vashad with a pin in his mouth and his grenade in his outstretched hand.

"Allahu Akbar!" Vashad shouted at the top of his lungs. The grenade detonated, sending a rippling shockwave through the village. Xander was thrown off his feet and twenty yards back into the red cloud. The lights faded as the red smoke swallowed his motionless body.

And then, darkness.

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