Codename: Ghost

Hot Topic (1)

1100 HOURS, FEBRUARY 03, 2033CE

PASHTUN, SALAFI DESERT

It was mild weather today for this region – stinging winds, swirling sand devils four-meters-tall and a pitiless desert sun scorching all beneath it. Endless golden sand dunes curved across the heat-shimmering distance. I was crawling along their forking baseline. The harsh environment didn't really concern me. My sharp mind continued dwelling upon this mission's increasingly unpredictable endgame...

Random gunfire broke out ahead of me.

I froze, mid-crawl.

Hot metal ripped overhead. Screams sounded, followed by angry shouts and an answering hail of gunfire. Dual reinforcements converged from the distance on all sides. Chaos. Death. My quiet infiltration route through the sand dunes was now the deadly eye of a bloodstorm.

"Getting your bad luck out of the way early?" mission ops' silky male voice whispered through my earbud.

Hidden by my All1 facemask: a brief smile.

Young as I was, my classified CV was already filled with successfully completed Covert Ops including infiltration, extraction and assassination. So like always, I had done my geopolitical homework before deciding to take on this current mission. Pashtun was known as a desert nation of endless conflict, even for our world. Its' harsh central government was authoritarian but its' scattered oasis tribes were stubbornly independent. This typically caused regular armed clashes which culled successive generations. Government forces were most recently led by the implacable mercenary force called Lockstep Army (rank 6), the tribes championed by a broad underground collection of fanatical rebels. A dangerous environment by any stretch of the imagination, the only silver lining for me was that neither side had any particular reason to want ME dead...

Yet. Because this mission's purpose was to hit both sides HARD and finally bring the perpetual carnage here to a grinding halt.

Disappointment briefly burned me.

Both sides had engaged too early today, so unfortunately I would need to postpone my penultimate infiltration mission into Lockstep's Pashtun HQ, Qaleat Al'Easifa (translation: storm fortress). Jinder, the rebel elders and today's sacrificial lambs would be pissed off about this, and it would take at least another two weeks to prepare for a second attempt here, but-

Resolve immediately CLENCHED. My mind moved on to the next objective...

Bang! BANG, BANG! BOOM!

A rebel rocket attack? Useful for me.

Timing my quick spin to the explosion's fiery sand plume, I then began stealthily crawling away from ground zero. The Lockstep Army was an overwhelming juggernaut in its totality, but slow to assemble. While various mechanized units rumbled out from nearby Qaleat Al'Easifa to begin crossing the dunes, outfield squads hunkered down upon strategic dunetops to weather the first fierce, but undisciplined, charge of the suddenly ululating rebel forces. Combined with the Salafi desert's low afternoon visibility, the unfolding battle was an increasingly swirling mess for the senses. With all of this occurring around me, I glanced down at the dim display circle upon the back of my gloved hand to view an aerial feed showing combatant positions all updated live via advanced satellite telemetry: every direction led into further danger, only one directly towards my distant hidden camp. This made my exit-route clear.

Straight into the advancing army's teeth.

I hunkered lower, crawling on my stomach along the sandy culvert. Left arm pull, right arm pull, left arm pull, slowly dragging myself forward at an oblique angle. Screaming rebels sprinted across surrounding dunetops. Black smoke drifted, shrouding a blazing sun. Sand devils spun, further obscuring sight. All of this aided concealment, although my fullbody All1 sneaking suit was the ultimate lynchpin for my survival.