Huff

My name is Sergeant Volk Mane, squad leader of Unit Thirteen. We exist to serve the interests of high-ranking government officials, tasked with eliminating terrorist targets deep within enemy territory. We are a rogue unit, untraceable and expendable — no country, no name.

Our intel pointed to terrorist activity in the Woodlands, a region deep within the meadow. We received reports of an extremist organization expanding its territory and growing in numbers. The head of the organization, known only as Mother, conducted her business with the help of her three lieutenants, called the Little Piglets. They were her top operatives and potential leaders of smaller cells. Mother decided it was time for them to branch out and control more territory. This information alarmed our government, as Mother and her Piglets had a history of supplying biochemical weapons to various military and civilian operatives. Their files revealed that all members were brilliant scientists, formerly active in prestigious universities and pharmaceutical companies.

Mother was the head of Hock Biolex before its collapse and dismantling. She used her considerable wealth and connections to create a series of shadow bases with a steady supply line to pharmaceutical depots across the country. She extended invitations to the three lieutenants, convincing them to join her and bestowing power and authority upon each.

Our plan was to split into two groups. Following aerial precision strikes, we would enter the buildings and eliminate all remaining personnel. The problem was the last bunker, codenamed Brick House. Surface scans revealed thick walls and blast doors. We would have to infiltrate through the cooling towers to reach its core. Last-minute intelligence suggested the presence of missile silos deep within the facility. If confirmed, we were to sabotage all missiles and destroy the facility. If possible, we would eliminate Mother and her Piglets.

With our teams in position, a volley of rockets struck both the Hay and Twig bunkers. In the resulting chaos, we used precision charges to breach their walls. Once inside, all hostiles were eliminated. I pursued one Little Piglet through the tunnel systems, but he managed to escape and take shelter in the other bunker. Strike Team Two suffered heavy losses and also lost their Piglet target. Both Piglets reached Brick House minutes ahead of us. With two safe houses destroyed, we focused on the last one.

The heat from the blasts still stung my face. Hay and Twig were down, but those Piglets slipped through my fingers. The element of surprise was gone, vanished like smoke in the wind. Now, only Brick House remained, looming ahead like a fortress. And somewhere inside were missiles prepped for launch. That was the priority. Forget Mother and her Piglets; those missiles had to go.

I thought back to the intel. Brick House was heavily fortified but had one weakness: the cooling towers. We could breach there, rappelling into the missile bay. Drones would spearhead the assault, eliminating the bulk of the enemy. We would follow and mop up. Little did we know we were wading into deep water.

I checked my gear, the weight of the explosives reassuring on my back. We dove headfirst into the pit, my second-in-command taking out targets with surgical precision. We had fought through hell and back. Red saved my life in '92 back at Grandma's house. If it wasn't for him, I'd be dead. Then there was Pyro. He survived being thrown into a fire pit. He doesn't talk much. You'd think he'd stay away from fire after that, but they say it's best to confront your fears. Pyro engulfed the tunnels in napalm, suffocating all living things. He always kept his face covered, glaring through milky eyes. Both had been with me since the formation of Team Thirteen. I've lost count of how many Wolves we've lost throughout the years.

Heavy fire pinned us down just outside the control room. We exchanged grenades with the hostiles. I was hit and lost function in my leg. They threw everything at us: smoke, flashbangs, tear gas, but nothing could overcome our gear. Under the cover of darkness, we pushed the attack. Red used his tech to disable all electrical devices within 100 yards. Our natural night vision made short work of the blinded hostiles. Unfortunately, we lost all communication. We were alone in the dark, but we were Alphas; we liked it that way.

The electronics were fried inside the control room. We had no way to disarm the missile because we couldn't remove the core. When the power went out, a safety lock engaged, and without the launch key, it was impossible to remove the detonator. We had to blow up Brick House with a live chemical missile inside.

Blood oozed from my leg. I stuffed it with rags. Red and Pyro stood ready. I gripped the explosives and planted them at the base of the rocket. Just then, a voice echoed through the halls. The PA system was still operational.

"Well... you three have been very naughty pups. Which one of you huffed and puffed and blew down my poor babies' houses? That wasn't very nice. I'm afraid you need to be punished for your insolence. What kind of story would this be without repercussions? If you're planning on destroying the missile, I'd advise you to reconsider. The chemical blast will seep into the river below, poisoning the entire country's water supply. You'll kill everyone and everything. Unless... you play a game with me..."

So here I am, trapped once again, hopeless. Nothing short of a miracle could save us. I see Red smiling. I glance over at Pyro, who winks. It sends shivers down my spine. It makes my hair bristle, my mouth slobber, my throat ruble as we let out bloodcurdling howls that echo through the facility.

Come one then let's get to it. No need for games, we're coming for you. And when we find you we're gonna swallow your piglets whole. We'll hang you upside down and drink our fill. We'll blow the bomb and watch it burn.