Retribution
By
Collin Hayward

Introduction:

The countryside of Upstate New York was quiet and serene, an odd scene for the coming events. The one lane road was flanked on either side by tall trees. In the darkness, four men waited. One of these men was the Crazed Axeman, the Commander of GHOST and the leader of this operation. The other three men had been hand picked for this unit by the Axeman himself. They had all been highly distinguished STUDs before joining GHOST, now they were the most deadly fighting force STUD could offer. They were GHOST’s Strike Force Echo.

The leader of the trio was thin and of average height. His hair was dark and his skin somewhat pale from so many days spent in the shadows and beneath the mask. He had been in the same training platoon as the Axeman. When the Axeman had gone to STUD’s Recon school, he had gone to STUD’s Stealth, Lethality, Infiltration and Covert Engagement or as it was more commonly known ‘Ninja School’. He was a GHOST Lieutenant, and an expert at hand to hand combat. His codename was the Zombiekillerninja, but everyone called him ZKN for short. He now watched the road from his post, invisible in the darkness.

The second was a bear of a man as well as being the oldest of the crowd. He had played college football and might have gone pro had an outbreak not changed his career path. He was one of the most deadly machine gunners in all of STUD, and a formidable opponent to any man. He was the Madman, and behind the M60E4 machine gun, he was a force of nature.

The last man was the youngest. He had joined STUD two years before, just barely over 17. Now at 19 he was as experienced a veteran as GHOST had ever seen. Despite several personal differences between himself and ZKN, the two had grown to accept each others skills and operate well together. He was a crack shot and a true asset in a firefight. His past was mysterious, as he had been found in a ditch outside an infected area, not knowing… or caring to tell of his past. His once dark brown hair had been shaved away in the standard GHOST high and tight. He was Samuraignoll or Sam for short.

They did not have long to wait. Only moments later, the Deep Six convoy came rumbling down the road. The team waited until they were almost past before they acted. Samuraignoll fired his silenced Vychlops sniper rifle. The specialized subsonic round punched through the front windshield of the rear Humvee like a sword through a sheet of tinfoil. The vehicle, its driver dead, swerved out of control and rolled; effectively blocking the roadway. Taking advantage of their surprise, the Axeman rose from his position and fired his RPG. In a fireball, the lead Humvee exploded. Reloading he launched another rocket propelled grenade into the rear Humvee. Quickly reloading, he fired another into the already burning lead Humvee, nothing was left to chance. Now, with the remaining five Humvees blocked in, ZKN pressed the detonators in his hand. The mines rigged up by the road had worked perfectly. Four Humvees were blown off of the road, leaving only the middle.

The Axeman and ZKN moved forward in the confusion. With a breaching round from his shotgun, the Axeman had blown open the door. No sooner had in opened than ZKN had flicked in a pair of shuriken, killing the driver and passenger instantly. One of the other two men in the back lunged, but was stopped by a point blank blast to the face from the Axeman’s shotgun. The other man, dressed in a now blood stained suit cowered in the corner. The Axeman grabbed him, and with a blow from his shotgun, knocked him unconscious. The Axeman then hefted him over his shoulder and ran, ZKN at his side. The Axeman reached the line they had ambushed the convoy from only to be met by Sam.

Sam, using hand signals, indicated the route of their exit. The three GHOSTs ran as the survivors of the ambush rallied on the roadway, only to be met with a burst of fire from Madman’s machine gun. With a five round burst from his machine gun, he sent them into several more seconds of disarray as he took off into the woods behind his team. Soon he caught up to them. The Deep Sixers were following them now. As they ran, Sam peeled off, crouching in the brush. As the Deep Six men crashed through the brush behind them, Sam pulled the cord. Though he could not see the carnage, he could imagine the damage inflicted by the claymore. He moved on ran on, several yards down the trail, he passed ZKN, likewise crouched in the bush. As he ran, he heard the muted sound of another explosion and a burst from ZKN’s MP5. Soon ZKN was beside him again, reloading. They were nearly there. They nearly ran into the Axeman who stood beside the clearing. He waved them by before crouching in the bushes. As they entered the clearing they heard the reassuring sound of rotor blades and saw the Madman standing there already, the body over his shoulder. From several yards down the trail, they heard another muted explosion and screams. The last claymore always got them. After the first two were set up to spray up at them and drop their pointman, they never expected the last one, rigged up in a tree to spray down on them like a massive shotgun. Now the chopper touched down and the Axeman rushed into the clearing. Less than 10 seconds later the chopper was airborne once again and the mission was a success, leaving only some scattered corpses and a bit of burning wreckage on a back road in Upstate New York.
***

The Axeman and his men walked into the office, between them was a man in a ragged suit with a black canvas bag over his head. The man behind the desk looked up from his computer.

“General Krow,” the Axeman said. “This is the prisoner. We’ve confirmed the identity, it’s him alright.”

“Thank you, everything went according to plan, I trust.”

“Naturally, I’ll leave him with you.” The Axeman said as he tugged off the hood. The hostage blinked under the fluorescent lighting. He was haggard looking, he was pale, his eyes were bleary, and his face was darkened by 5-O’Clock shadow. The Axeman and his team wheeled on their heels and left the office. Once the room was empty save for Krow and his prisoner, the questioning began.

“Ah, Councilman Kane, it’s nice to see you.”

“General Krow, I wish I could say the same.” Kane remarked dryly.

“Now come on, you could be more pleasant than that.” Krow mocked.

“I’m sure your response should our positions reversed would be considerably more profane.”

“The charming conversationalist as always.” Krow grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “But let’s get down to business.”

“And what might that be?”

“Well, let’s start with the basics. What are Deep Six’s plans? As Head Councilman you must have some idea.”

“It’s too late.” Chuckled Kane, shaking his head.

“Too late for what?”

“For all of those poor GHOSTs in Virginia.”

“My God.” Said Krow slowly. “I’ll have to protect you, we still need information you have, but even I won’t be able to stop the Axeman when he finds out whatever you’ve done.”

Ahhh....pretty. I love a well played ambush.

:D Oh hell yea im hardcore!!
Awesomness man keep it up, perfect writing

...What'll happen to our heroes?

Chapter 1: A Day Which Will Live in Infamy


The Axeman and his team sat at the bar, celebrating their victory. The Wooden Spoon was a favorite hangout for GHOSTs, as the food was good, the beer was cold, and the place was quiet. All in all it was a nice place to relax following a stressful op. The Axeman sipped at a bourbon relishing these few moments of peace between the fighting. Then his cell phone rang. He fished the small device out of the many pockets of his weathered brown leather duster. He found it on the third ring and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Axeman,” General Krow said urgently over the phone. “Get to Camp Tainter, now! Deep Six is up to something, and we don’t know what. Get there as soon as you can. I have a detachment of Archangels on their way to help out with whatever’s going on.”

The Axeman didn’t answer, he simply snapped the cell phone shut as he sprang from his seat and headed for the door, flanked by Sam and Madman. ZKN flipped a wad of bills at the bartender. He didn’t even raise his eyebrows, this was common place.

Without a word the GHOSTs jumped into the black Cadillac Escalade. The SUV was the vehicle used by Echo Team, mainly due to its capacity to serve as a mobile armory. Now it sped towards the GHOST base several miles away.
***

Michael Murdoch clutched the wheel of the Hummer tightly as he passed the front gate of the Camp, flashing the ID. It almost looked real. It was real enough to fool the sentry and that was all that was important. He could see his target ahead of him. He didn’t see the GHOST ahead of him until it was almost too late. He eased the Hummer to a stop as the uniformed MP stepped to his side door.

“May I see your ID?”

“Umm, sure.” Said Murdoch said nervously. He had not counted on this.

The MP dropped the ID and stepped back, pulling his Sig P220. Clearly the ID wasn’t close enough. Now the MP was yelling at him to get out of the truck with his head up. Murdoch reacted instinctively and panicking, he pulled his rifle. The first round ricocheted off the door of the SUV. Murdoch fired the standard GHOST rifle, the M4 AZCS, which had been provided for him. It was an M4 carbine with a Masterkey breaching shotgun, an ACOG scope, and a light. In these quarters the shotgun blast was devastating. The MP was knocked backwards, .45 falling from his hands. Now other GHOSTs were running from the command building. Now the mission was falling down around him. He opened the door, hoping that the bulletproof doors were as good as he had been assured. He sighted in on several targets and fired short controlled bursts. Suddenly he felt his chest explode outward. At first, he felt nothing and only looked confusedly down at his chest, the contents of which were now splattered across the inside of the door. Then the pain hit him like a fiery hand grasping for his heart. He crumpled to the ground as behind him the Caveman slapped another magazine into his AK103.


Murdoch gasped for breath. The mission was a failure. It was supposed to be a simple op. Dangerous, but simple. Drive in, park in the underground lot, walk out and detonate the explosives. He was a mercenary, not some Deep Six idealist. He didn’t care whether Deep Six conquered the world or not, so long as he got his paycheck, but now as he looked down at his ruined body, he made a decision. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. As the GHOSTs advanced, he reached into his pocket. The GHOSTs saw nothing as he was lying on his face with his hand beneath him. The hard plastic casing was slick with his blood. They were firing as they advanced. He could feel the rounds burning into him as they came, each one a million angry hornets. He pressed the button and it was over.

The Hummer exploded in a fireball. The front of the command building was shorn away. For a moment, all was silent as debris rained down from the heavens, and then the moaning began. Men screamed as they tried to fashion tourniquets for severed limbs. Others cried as they tried to hold in their own intestines. Deep Six had struck.

ouchies.

The Axeman slammed his foot down on the gas as he saw the plume of smoke. The SUV barreled down the road and squealed to a halt next to the gate. The Axeman rolled down the window to talk to the Benelli-toting MP at the gate.

“What’s going on?” the Axeman asked urgently.

“We don’t know, sir.” The nervous MP replied, he was young, no older than 19. “There was some shooting, then a car blew up, there are a lot of people screwed up pretty bad. You better get in there, sir; see if you can make heads or tails of it.”

The Axeman and his team disembarked the Escalade and walked towards the devastation. The sight which awaited them was worse than anything they had ever seen. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, fires still burned, and the offices of the main building were laid open.

“My God…” murmured Samuraignoll slowly as he surveyed the carnage.

The Axeman was taken off guard by a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around, his hand reaching for his pistol, but he stopped when he realized who was behind him. It was the Celtic Killer, the commander of the camp. He looked exhausted, his hands and chest were bloody and his eyes were red. His body, like everything else was coated with a layer of white dust.

“How bad is it, Kevin?” croaked the Axeman, not sure whether he wanted to know.
“It’s pretty bad, but it could have been worse.” He replied, his voice flat. “19 dead, 56 wounded, 32 severely wounded.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” asked the Axeman.”

“Jim,” replied the Celtic Killer, his voice numb with shock. “It’s George, he’s hurt, bad.”

“Where?” asked the Axeman, more worried since he had been.

“Over there.” He said, pointing to a small building that had been shielded from the blast by the command building.

Echo Team walked towards the hospital. The Axeman pushed open the door where he was struck by the ever present smell of death intensified by the close quarters. The Axeman found the first blood stained orderly standing in the hallway.

“Where’s Brigadier General Caveman?” asked the Axeman.

The orderly tiredly indicated a small side room. The Axeman walked in to the whitewashed room. In the center of the room, lying on a cot was their friend. The Caveman was one of the Axeman’s closest friends. He and the Axeman had both served together in the Fast Reconnaissance Team. Now he was lying under the bloodstained sheet. He was pale from blood loss and muttering lucidly.

“General Axeman?” asked a doctor from behind.

“Yes?” The Axeman said turning. “How’s he doing?”

“Well, I have some good news and some bad news.”

“What is it?”

“Well, he’s going to live.”

“Thank God!” exclaimed the Axeman. “What’s the bad news.”

“Well… I’m afraid… he’s lost the use of both of his legs. He’ll… he’ll never walk again.”

“Jesus.” Hissed the Axeman through his teeth. “Thank you doctor, I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”

The Axeman then turned and kneeled next to his friend. He seized his friend’s pale limp hand. It was cold to the touch. The Axeman looked through tear soaked eyes at his friend’s pale face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for what this has cost you.” The Axeman croaked. “But I vow, I will find who was responsible for this, and I won’t stop while they still draw breath.”

The Axeman pawed at his weathered face and collected himself. He straightened his uniform and walked for the door, once more the stoic warrior. He cracked his neck and walked towards the door. He stepped into the sunlight, flanked by his team. He began to give orders rapid fire in a low voice.

“Madman, hit the armory, get everything we might need into the SUV. ZKN, get over to the technology building and see if they have any leads. Sam, get all GHOSTs not doing something else to gather on the corner.”

“Aye Aye, sir.” They all replied in unison and set off to accomplish their assigned duties.
***

Ten minutes later the Axeman stood tall amidst the turmoil, a crowd of GHOSTs watching him. As he began to speak in his deep voice, they all felt comforted. They felt, for once that day, that everything would be alright. Calmly he began his address to all GHOSTs stationed across the United States.

“My fellow GHOSTs, this morning at 10:37 am the GHOST Command Center at Fort Tainter was attacked by Deep Six forces. 19 of your comrades in arms have been slain in a cowardly act of terrorism. Even now we are tracing those responsible and I swear that I shall not cease until they are all in the ground. With this act, Deep Six has declared war. For every man or woman killed or wounded here today, they shall pay one hundred fold. I vow that I shall see the fall of Deep Six, and I say now, and I hope they hear me, that if Deep Six wants a war, we will give them a War!” The Axeman finished to the raucous cheers of the assembled GHOSTs. Deep Six had struck, but GHOST was going to strike back.

Wow....a full-blown war, and when the world is stable (unlike STUD: Heroes). This is a first.

Awesomeness

Can't wait, for some more.

Those bitches are going down.

Chapter 2: The Sweep


The Axeman and Samuraignoll strode away from the crowd and toward their vehicle. As he walked, Madman joined him. The big muscular man rubbed a large hand over his shaved head. The Madman informed him that weapons had been secured with almost no problems. If there was one thing GHOSTs had no problems laying hands on, it was weapons. Within moments they were joined by ZKN.

“You have anything?” The Axeman asked.

“Oh, you better believe it.”

“What is it?”

“They found the cell phone on the bomber, or what was left of him, and were able to trace the last few calls. They were all made to a supposedly abandoned building in the city. The building is licensed to a Mr. John Winslett.

“Do you have a background on Winslett?”

“Yes, sir, I do. Winslett was born in 1970 in Belfast. Known to be involved with a number of Protestant groups suspected of terrorist activities. Arrested twice in Northern Ireland, once for the possession of an illegal explosive device and another for use of a Molotov cocktail against a pub. Moved to the US after he was acquitted and has since worked several jobs for Deep Six. This guy’s a merc and he’s dangerous.”

“We take him down today.” The Axeman said simply.

“Aye Aye sir.” All of them said, knowing the Axeman was already formulating a plan. Without another word they climbed into the SUV.
***

The SUV pulled into the warehouse across the street from the building the mercenaries occupied. As soon as they were in Madman and the Axeman jumped out and closed the heavy wooden door. Once again, the Axeman began assigning duties.

“Madman, you’re on procurement. Run into town, we need a Remington 1100, some aluminum foil, steel wool, some big washers, and a box of 12 gauge sabot slugs.”

“I’m on it.”

“Sam, you’re on observation. I want to know everyone who comes in or goes out and how many people are inside. I need to know what we’re up against. Get up in the roof with that rifle of yours.” After Sam had left, the Axeman turned to ZKN. “Hack into the city grid, I want everything electronic to cut out on my command.” The plan was underway.

After the Madman had returned, the Axeman sat in the corner laboring with the new Mossberg. With a bit of work the Axeman had made a brutally ugly, yet effective weapon. Sam had wired down from the roof to inform them of the approximate number of hostiles in the adjacent building. The Axeman laid out his plan, distributing weapons as he did. Everyone would have a role to play and the timing would have to be perfect. Now, moments after everything had been put in place, ZKN killed the power and the block blacked out. Their first retaliation was about to begin.

The Axeman spoke into the microphone in his collar as he hid in the shadows, surveying his target. The building was plain, with a sentry in front. Though no weapon could be seen, the Axeman knew the man was armed with at least a pistol, if not something more potent.

“This is Thor 1, ready to move.”

“This is Thor 2,” came ZKN’s voice over the radio. “Grappling hook away, ready to go.”

“This is Thor 3,” said Sam from the roof. “Subsonic rounds loaded, target acquired, ready to take the shot.”

“This is Thor 4,” said the Madman, his voice soft. “Ready to go.”

“This is Thor 1, all teams prepare to go, take the shot 3, I say again, take the shot.”

“Roger that, taking the shot.”

Sam took a deep breath; half exhaled, relaxed, made sure the crosshairs were aligned on the target, and squeezed the target. The Remington 700 bucked against his shoulder as the subsonic round coughed through the silencer. The enemy sniper on the roof crumpled, never knowing what hit him.

“Target down!” Sam hissed into the radio.”

“All teams, go.” Ordered the Axeman.

Oh, oh, oh!

Asskickery!

GIVE ME MORE

He walked nonchalantly forward, one hand inconspicuously hidden beneath his duster. The sentry looked at his suspiciously, his hand straying towards the back of his jeans. The Axeman was faster. He pulled the specially modified Remington 1100 shotgun and pressed it to the sentry’s chest. He fired twice. The report was muffled both by the improvised silencer and the body of the target. The third shot was to the head. The weapon had proven itself highly effective, with more power than a silenced pistol. Nothing left to chance.

The Madman clenched his teeth as he slapped a drum magazine into his AK103. He kicked open the door, rifle at his shoulder. The two Mercs in the room turned towards him surprised, raising their AK47s. Before they could fire the Madman had let loose with an automatic burst, cutting them in half. As he crossed towards the door, he fired an extra round into each of the downed men’s heads.

The zip line was already secured. ZKN braced himself and sprang from the roof. He raised his feet and smashed through the window. The three men who had been running for the sound of the gunfire wheeled, but it was already too late. ZKN had drawn a large hunting knife and he moved faster than they could react. The first man gagged as he reeled to the ground, the blade through the base of his throat. The second man pulled his Beretta M9, but ZKN had already broken his arm before he could pull the trigger. Before the pain of the break could even catch up with him, the blade had jabbed under his ear, killing him instantly. The third man ran, panicking. He fumbled with the door, but the Bowie flew straight. The man slid down the wall, the Bowie through the base of his skull. Pulling a MAC10, ZKN walked down the stairs.

The Axeman had dropped the sawn-off Remington; its silencer ruined, and pulled his Mossberg 590 cruiser. The door was knocked off its hinges by the Axeman’s steel-toed boot. The men inside were now prepared for whatever was to come, or at least they thought they were until the Axeman came through. AK47s rattled in the hall, but they might as well have been firing at air. The Axeman emptied all four of the eight rounds from the shotgun down the hall, turning the hall into a slaughter house. The Axeman stepped over the corpses and past the blood splattered walls.

Winslett swore because his HK69 grenade launcher was useless in the close confines of the building and pulled his Beretta Brigadier. He couldn’t get away; he and his eight remaining mercenaries were trapped in a small room. Now all he could hope was that it wouldn’t be their tomb. He didn’t know how many he was up against. He ran his hand over his bald head as he crouched behind a hardwood table. He wished that he had chosen a more secure location. Had he known that he would be fighting for his life, he would have barricaded him in the loft, but this room had two doors. Three men guarded each door and the other two crouched in the center of the room near him. All at once, the room exploded in a blinding deafening explosion.

The breaching charges had gone off simultaneously. The Mercs were too stunned by the blast to respond. The three men at each door were dead within a heartbeat. The instant the doors had exploded inward, the door from the loft had opened and a spray of silenced submachine gun fire slashed through the room. The Axeman crossed the room towards where Winslett now sprawled atop the overturned table, his spine snapped by a round. Winslett tried to crawl away, in vain. Without a word, the Axeman emptied his Colt Python into the prone body.

PWNED!!!

Knife killing yay! Fitting since I've been working on beating all of dead rising with only hunting knives and hands and feet.

HARDCORE

good work there, hope to see some more.

Chapter 3: The Meeting

The doors burst open as the Axeman marched into the main lobby of the regional STUD Command Center near Langley, Virginia, the heels of his combat boots clicking on the tiled floor. Without a glance, he passed the memorial for the Command Center attack and the Glorious Conquest Raid. His eyes glared straight forward. No STUD dared challenge the GHOST Major General, so brutally intent was the look on his face. The Axeman threw open the door to the cell block and walked towards the door at the end of the hall. The Axeman knocked open the door to the interrogation room. Through the one way mirror, the Axeman could see the prisoner. But there was one thing standing between the Axeman and the door to Councilman Kane. Unfortunately this thing was one of the only things the Axeman both feared and respected.

“Good afternoon, General Krow.” The Axeman grated, his eyes still fixed on the Deep Six councilman.

“Good afternoon, Axeman.” Krow replied. “May I ask the reason of your unannounced midday visit? I assume you aren’t here purely for my conversation.”

“You assume correctly.” The Axeman replied, forsaking any pretence. “General Krow, I’m here to see your prisoner.”

“Why might that be?”

“Because I’m going to kill him.”

“Axeman, I sincerely offer my apologies for what happened this morning, but I can’t let you do that.”

“Why might that be?”

“We still need his information.”

“General, it is only the enormous respect I have for you that prevents me from barging past you and taking him right then and there, but I want you to know, before a week has past, I will see him swing.” The Axeman said, his voice low and even. “That is all I came to say, Good Afternoon.”

After finishing his speech, the Axeman wheeled on his heel and strode from the room. Inside the interrogation room, Councilman Kane stared straight forward, not knowing how close he had come to his own demise.
***

As the Axeman stormed from the Command Center the cell phone he had taken off of Winslett’s body rang in his pocket. Startled, the Axeman reached into his pocket and fished out the small cellular device. Flipping it open, he placed it to his ear and cautiously answered.

“Hello.”

“Would this be the Crazed Axeman, Commander of GHOST?”

“Depends, who’s asking.”

“My name is not relevant information, but I am a Deep Six Councilman.”

“What the hell are you doing calling me?” The Axeman demanded, his temper flaring.

“Easy now,” the other voice said condescendingly. “First and foremost, I must say this; I believed that the attacks this morning were ill advised. I believe that the one thing that would most harm Deep Six would be a full scale war, and that’s exactly what the bombing precipitated. Now, I have information which I think may stop this war before it starts.”

“What might that be?” The Axeman grated, hating the necessity of conversing with the enemy.

“First of all, all six members of the council, including Head Councilman Kane, who I believe is in your custody and myself, are here in Washington. If you can get to me, I will give you their exact locations.”

“And how do you benefit from this?”

“Deep Six has been my life for the past forty years; I don’t want to see it crumble around my ears. I feel that is what will happen should the current council remain in power.”

“So it’s just a side benefit that you will have complete control of Deep Six?”

“Please, please, my dear General.” The voice on the other end of the phone laughed. “I could have any of them killed should I wish, and they could have me killed likewise… It’s like our crude little system of checks and balances.”

“Where are you?”

“I am at the Weber mall, unfortunately, your team will have a hard time getting through my security.”

“Can’t you just call them off for the meeting?”

“If only it were that simple…” with that the other man hung up.

Well well well.....this should prove interesting.

Crude little system of checks and balances. :P

Must bite tongue about c and b.

Good chapter.

This is only the first part of the chapter, the next one will come up as soon as I can crank it out. I'm kinda busy, wrestling just started.

good work, wonder how this is going to turn out.

I'm Waiting captain

Echo team clambered out of the Escalade in the parking garage of the Weber Mall. The Axeman was worried, something didn’t feel right. The call had warned him of heavy security, but he still held a certain sense of foreboding. The Axeman took time on the way in to survey the mall map and formulate a plan.

“ZKN, you take the security offices down in the basement. Sam and Madman, you take the lower level. I’ll take the top floor. If everything hits the fan, the vehicle is the rally point. Remember, there are civvies in here, so don’t open fire if you don’t have to. Remember, the Deep Six men will probably be in civilian clothes, so be sure before you open fire, we don’t want any collateral damage. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, let’s go.”

The GHOSTs wandered into the mall, inconspicuous, yet still intimidating in their long leather dusters. Soon they split up and spread out through the mall, weapons concealed and nerves taut.

As ZKN walked down the stairs into the security offices below, a voice hailed him from a side room. A tall muscular man walked out of the room in a security guard uniform. One hand drifted towards his night stick as he saw ZKN’s icy stare.

“Sir,” he said, clearly nervous despite the six inches of height that he held over the trench coat clad GHOST. “You’re not allowed to be down here.”

ZKN walked towards him, clearly not intent on leaving. The security guard fumbled with his night stick. Before the club could clear his belt, ZKN struck. He was careful not to kill the man, who had, after all done nothing save do his job. His hard knuckles rapped against the base of the man’s jaw, knocking him unconscious immediately. He pulled the stick from the man’s hand and wandered through the rest of the security office without incident. He turned and walked up the stairs and back into the mall.

Sam swore under his breath as he stalked through the women’s department, a sullen look on his face. Madman had won the game of Rock-Paper-Scissors and got to check the large sporting goods store at the other end of the first floor while he got stuck searching the two floor women’s department store. Sam wished he had gone best two out of three. As he slumped past racks of tops, bras, and undergarments, he tried his hardest to ignore the bemused glances of the other shoppers. He hoped that the Deep Six men would show themselves, he wanted to shoot something. He growled and headed for the escalator.

Madman wandered through the aisles of the store. There were racks of fishing poles, camping gear, and baseball bats, but no Deep Six informant. Madman was nervous, an odd feeling for him. It felt as if he was being followed, but he couldn’t see anyone. Every time he felt he was being watched or heard footsteps, he looked into his mirrored watch face. Whenever he looked however, he saw nothing, or worse, an enthusiastic father leading his grinning son throughout the store. Now the other customers were looking nervously at him, as the large bear-of-a-man in a black great coat, lumbered through the store, glancing nervously at his watch and occasionally running a hand over his shaven pate.

The Axeman’s eyes darted across the mall. They flitted into every store and restaurant. Then he noticed the man behind him. The man was evident by his anonymity. The man was so apparently trying to blend in that it was obvious he was just one of the men the Axeman was watching out for. The Axeman intended to make sure that the man was in fact following him. The Axeman found the least likely store for the refined well dressed men to enter. He quickly ducked into a nearby store. The man behind him winced as he prepared to enter the store from which steam, loud music, and an aura of the Goth subculture. With a deep breath he entered, only to be passed by the Axeman on the way out. Wheeling on his heel, he followed the Axeman… only to be seized by the arm.

The Axeman swung the man’s arm like a baseball bat. The man slammed against the rail with a crack. The man was taken off guard, and the wind was completely knocked from his lungs. He tried to wheel away, but the Axeman had his arm in a vice grip. The Axeman threw three violent blows. His elbow slammed into the man’s throat with three hatchet-like blows. His left arm reached inside the man’s overcoat and his hand seized the grip of a Sig handgun. He pushed forward with his forearm, dropping the man over the rail, where he plummeted to the tile floor below.

Behind him, the slide of a pistol slammed shut, chambering a round. The Axeman wheeled and fired, striking the second man, this one clad in a t-shirt and jeans, in the chest. The Axeman regained his breath. The Axeman had not seen the man until he had pulled his weapon. Had the pistol already had a round chambered, the Axeman would have been the one dead on the floor. Now he wheeled and headed for the rally point.

As ZKN reached the top of the stairs, he saw the silenced handgun muzzle only inches from his face. ZKN’s nightstick flashed out from under his black trench coat. The years at Ninja School had payed off, the tonfa stick swung faster than the Phantom could squeeze the trigger. The weapon caught the pistol-wielding man in the armpit, stopping his heart and dropping him to the ground writhing. He saw the reflection of the other man behind him pull a pistol in the glass of a display window. The baton jabbed straight forward, hitting the man square in the center of the chest, killing him. The man fell straight back. As the screaming started, ZKN dashed for the garage.

The escalator moved slowly upwards as Sam glared forward. He could not have imagined that women’s clothing could cover that much surface area. All of a sudden, he saw the black clad man at the top of the escalator pull a pistol, he turned to run, only to see another man at the bottom pull his handgun as well. Thinking quickly, Sam sprang over the divider and onto the other escalator, pulling his pistols in the process. His Smith and Wesson M&P and Glock 21 found their targets, their laser sights both locked on the gunmen’s chests. Both of his handguns barked at the same time, each knocking down their intended target. Hopped onto the divider and slid down, landing next to the body of the downed man, who he finished off with a second shot from the M&P. He sprinted away towards the garage. The ambush had been sprung.

The first silenced pistol shot whizzed past the Madman’s head as he dived for the floor, knocking over a display of hiking boots. The Madman seized the boot and flung it with all his force. The gunman stumbled backwards as the thick soled boot bounced off his head. Another figure appeared from behind the display case of fishing reels aiming a pistol. The Madman disappeared around the corner, followed by the two gunmen. The last thing they ever saw was the shelf of baseball equipment crashing down upon them. The Madman heaved a breath, the shelf had been heavier than he had expected. Quickly he jogged out of the store, disappearing into the chaos the various killings had caused. He looked around and saw Sam’s distinctive red trench coat. He barreled through the crowd after him and joined him.

“Guess what happened!” The Madman yelled.

“Don’t need to, let’s get to the rally point.” Sam replied.

Yay, an update! And a good one at that!

Sam and the Madman pushed their way through the panicking crowd. The PA system was giving everyone the order to evacuate the mal through means other than the parking garage. Sam and Madman peeled away from the crowd and towards the garage. As they opened the large metal door into the garage, they could hear the gunfire from above. There was a furious exchange on the floor above which ended as quickly as it had begun. There were two more staccato shots, marking the end of the engagement. Sam and the Madman rushed upwards towards the rally point. They rounded the corner... only to find themselves staring down the barrels of the Axeman and ZKN's pistols.

"Alright," The Axeman said, holstering the Sig he had taken from the man he had killed. "The mall's being evacuated, so we can presume that anyone in here is Deep Six, eliminate on sight. First though, we need some heavier fire power."

The Axeman opened the trunk of the Escalade to reveal a large arsenal. The Axeman reached in and began handing out shotguns and boxes of ammunition. He gave Sam and the Madman their Benellis and ZKN his Mossberg 590 cruiser. Finally, he unlatched a silver case, revealing his personal weapon; a heavily customized Mossberg 500 shotgun, which he loaded with a sidewinder drum and pumped the slide. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and completely in their element. They were on the hunt.

The first two Deep Six agents waiting outside the door did not stand a chance. Madman leveled his Benelli M1014 and gunned down one while Sam dropped the other with his Nova Tactical. As they walked past the clothing store in which Sam had been ambushed, a pistol shot smashed into the column the Axeman stood next to. The Axeman wheeled and fired, blasting the gunman backwards into a rack of coats, his blood splattering the mink coats like a PETA protest. The Axeman knew that every Deep Six agent in the building would be inbound on their position, and that they would have to find a defensible position. A volley of shotgun blasts blew the two gunmen at the top of the escalator backwards. The GHOSTs ran towards the food court, there was only one way in. The food court was clear, and the GHOSTs crouched down to cover the entryway. The attack was not long in coming. Only a few tense seconds had elapsed before the first gunmen emerged into the empty hallway. These were promptly dealt with by the GHOSTs in the food court. Then the assault began in earnest.

The Deep Six agents in the building had likewise upgraded their armaments by grabbing P90 submachine guns from their hidden cache inside the mall. Full automatic gunfire ripped through the mall, interspersed by the occasional shotgun blast. The small rounds of the submachine guns did not have sufficient power to penetrate the concrete walls behind which the GHOSTs sheltered. The three Deep Six Phantoms who commanded the security of the Councilman straightened their suits and threw more men into the hall. One of them ran his hand through his hair as he calmly surveyed the GHOST position, It had been well selected; the entrance forced the attackers into a bottle neck. He wished he had a grenade launcher or any explosive at all. As it was, he had no choice but to rush as many of his man as possible around the corner. He hoped that his men would eventually overpower the GHOSTs before they were all slain.

The firing pin in Sam’s Nova shotgun clicked on an empty chamber, not bothering to reload, he pulled his M&P handgun. He quickly emptied it into the Deep Six agents rounding the corner before its slide locked to the rear and he pulled his Glock. To his right Madman was carefully choosing his shots with his shotgun.

The Phantoms could see the tide of battle shifting. They clearly did not have enough men to defeat the GHOSTs if they kept blindly charging the position. He gave the order for them to fall back. They would make the GHOSTs come to them. They would use their own trap against them.

The attack ended. The Axeman realized what Deep Six was doing and gave the command for his GHOSTs to load their shotguns. If they were to accomplish their objective, they would be forced to charge around the same corner they had proven to be a kill zone. Their weapons locked and loaded, the Axeman used hand signals to pull his GHOSTs on line. He then reached into his pocket, fished out the flashbang, primed it and threw it around the corner.

The Deep Six agents on the other side of the corner were stunned by the explosion. They were so taken off guard, that they were easy prey for the GHOSTs. The GHOSTs methodically swept through the hall, shotguns blasting. Within moments, the Deep Six agents were no more, vanished beneath the waves of buckshot. The Phantoms knew they were trapped and pulled their pistols. Without a word, they turned to face the Councilman, determined not to let him fall into GHOST hands. Before they could, they were all slain in a volley of gunfire from behind.


The Axeman kept his shotgun raised as the bodies of the three Phantoms hit the ground. In front of a boutique, a man clad all in black sat at a table with his back to them. Throughout the shooting of the Phantoms, he had not so much as twitched. Now, he began applauding. The Axeman lowered the shotgun slightly as the man began to speak.

“Well done, General.” The man said clearly. “You see, I told you I had faith in your men’s abilities.”

“We’ve had to kill 30 men to get here.” The Axeman growled.

“Well yes, that would be all of them…” the man mused. “Still, I’m sure you’re interested in the information I have for you.”

“Very.” The Axeman said dryly.

“Very well, as I have said, all of the councilors, including myself are here in the city.” He set a manila folder down on the table in front of him. “These are their names, ages and other personal information as well as their locations for the next 24 hours, information concerning the organization and disposition of their security details, and a list of the times in the next 24 hours when they will be most vulnerable.”

“There’s one thing that’s been bothering my,” said the Axeman as he raised his shotgun. “If you are going to take control over Deep Six, why shouldn’t we just kill you right now?”

“Well, wouldn’t that be an unpleasant end for our new friendship.” Mocked the Councilor. “General, as you have seen, I am a cautious man. I would not risk an open war with STUD. Should the entire council, myself included, be removed, another more radical power might seize control. My aims are the betterment of Deep Six, not the destruction of STUD.”

“But I take it that your goal shall remain the same.” The Axeman spat back at him.

“If you mean world domination through the use of the undead, then yes. I will assume that your objective will still be to stop us. Therefore, this is my deal, we end the war. We return to normality, you play your game, we play ours.”

“Agreed.” The Axeman said after much consideration. “But the second any of my people are targeted, there will be no measure to how rapid or brutal our retribution shall be.”

When the man turned to hand him the folder, the Axeman saw his face. Even as he shook his hand to seal the deal, he could not grasp the identity of the man he had been dealing with. Of the council, he was the last he would have expected.

OMG the councilman...it's Gandhi isn't it?

:P

Damn, that was supposed to be a surprise.

Oh my god, How come you have a picture of my mum with an AK?

Chapter 4: The Settling

With so much having transpired, it was hard to believe that it had been less than 12 hours ago that the attack on the GHOST Command Center had transpired. The large open lot was empty, save for a few men. These four men had gathered in the darkness for a single reason. The Crazed Axeman turned to address his team.

“As we prepare to do battle, keep this in mind. Now is the time to end this war. Now is the time to crumble Deep Six. Now is the time to take our vengeance. Now is the time for retribution. You all know your duties and I know that you all shall do them well. I know that you spend many nights thinking of your comrades in arms who have been slaughtered and the countless men, women and children who have fallen victim around the world, so tonight we shall those nights repay. Tonight, we act. Tonight, we settle all of our debts, so that tomorrow may be a better day. That is all, dismissed.”
***

12 hours after the Axeman had released Echo Team to wreak havoc upon the hierarchy of Deep Six, he stood on his private island, Councilman Kane bound behind him. The Axeman goaded him along with his sawn-off side by side shotgun. The Axeman told his captive to stop.

“This is as far as we go.” The Axeman said. “Do you know why we’re stopping here?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.” Replied the Deep Six Councilman imperiously.

“This is where I buried the corpses of the zombies you let loose here, along with the two snipers you sent to do me in.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me.” The Councilman sneered.

“I’m going to kill you.” The Axeman’s voice was not swayed by any emotion. It was cold and detached, made in much the same tone one would make an idle comment about the weather.
***

Several hours before the Axeman’s conversation with Kane, Heinz Dietrich, Councilman for all Deep Six affairs in Asia, strode quickly through the crowd. It was a dark night, and a man of his wealth would be a prime target for a mugger. He regretted his decision to take the metro around the city rather than to deal with the hassles of finding a parking spot for his Audi. After his brisk walk, he finally spotted the stairs leading to the subway. As he began to briskly walk down them, he did not notice the large man behind him. He stumbled forward several steps as the first shotgun blast struck him in the back. The other two hit him in rapid succession, leaving only a blood stained mess of what was once his torso. With his job completed, the Madman tucked the Serbu shotgun into his great coat and disappeared into the blackness of the night.
***

The Deep Six Head Councilman laughed. It was a hard, cold, cruel sound much like a dry cough. With his cackling completed, he turned to the Axeman and explained his outburst.

“Ha, do you think me a fool?”

“I think you many things, most of them decidedly negative, but a fool is not one of them.”

“You won’t kill me.”

“I can’t imagine what would give you the false notion that I would do anything else.”

“Because you aren’t as crazed as your name implies and you aren’t willing to risk your career. You know that General Krow would have your head.”

“I can’t imagine why that would be.”

“Information, you buffoon, I know everything that goes on within Deep Six, killing me would simply be… counterproductive.”

“You have no information of merit.” The Axeman said as he broke open his shotgun.
***

Jacob Blain, Councilor of the Americas, ran for his life. His two guards were dead and their killer was unharmed. Even now, he could hear the engine of the man’s car, a ’67 Impala, behind him. He splashed through a puddle as he turned down an alley too narrow for the car to enter. He knew that he could get away if he could round the corner. He didn’t quite make it.

Samuraignoll spun the wheel so the driver’s side window faced down the alley and braked. Calmly he aimed the large .44 revolver the Axeman had lent to him. It had evidently been taken from a Deep Six Phantom who had infiltrated GHOST. Now Sam lined up the front sight on the man’s upper back and squeezed the trigger. The Axeman was right, it did kick like a mule, but it certainly made things unpleasant for its target. This could be attested to by the corpse of the Councilman who now lay in a pool of his own blood in a small back alley in Washington DC.
***

“What precisely do you mean ‘Of no merit’?”

“One of your Councilmen turned on you.”

“They shall be dealt with accordingly.”

“We’ll see, but that’s of no consequence, you’re going to die this morning either way.”

“I’ll bet it was that swine Pauli. That European filth never had the guts for any of this.” The Councilman said, clearly beginning to lose his composure.

“To tell you the truth, that would have been my guess as well, but it’s incorrect.”
***

Pietro Pauli, Deep Six’s Councilor for Europe, was enjoying the morning. He had awoken at five to enjoy the sunrise and had since then gone to the bakery to grab a cannoli for his dessert that evening. Now he opened the door to his Lincoln Town Car and set the cannoli on the seat next to him. He did not see the man in his back seat.

After entering the car, ZKN had found Pauli’s sidearm, a silenced Beretta, in the glove box. That was the weapon he now pressed to the back of the headrest. He double tapped the trigger, the silencer and the headrest muffling the shots, but even the heavily tinted windows could not hide the gore that now splattered onto their inside. With calm deliberation gained from years of skilled ninja’s work, he wiped the pistol, set it on the seat, grabbed the cannoli for later, and left the car.
***

The shotgun snapped shut, two shells of double-ought buck chambered. He forced Kane to his knees. The Councilor was clearly panicking, the mask of cultured indifference fading away.

“But who was it?” Kane asked, clearly frightened and confused. “That’s what I can’t figure out. Was it Dietrich… or Blain?”

“Sorry, no and no.”

“Then was it… no, it couldn’t be…”

“Bingo.”
***

Doctor Jessica Blott, the Councilor for Australia, was the only woman in the top levels of Deep Six’s hierarchy. She had worked hard to get as far as she had, and wasn’t about to let some GHOSTs with a vendetta take it from her. She had called a meeting with the only remaining councilor. The man walked into the room, neatly dressed as always. He was the Councilor for the Military Wing of Deep Six, making him the only Councilman to hold a rank.

“Ah, General Kessler, it’s about time you showed up.” She hissed.

“May I ask why you requested my council?”

“You bloody well know why!” she exclaimed, then composed herself and continued. “Pauli was just found shot in his car this morning, the Police found Dietrich’s body in the subway last night, and they’ve found both of Blain’s body guards dead a few blocks from his hotel, we can only assume they’ve got him too. With Kane in their custody, we’re the only Councilors left.”

“Yes, I know all this. What do you, as the senior Councilor, plan to do about it?”

“I’ve already unleashed our secret weapon.”

“Anything else? That option has failed in the past.

“Well, you’re the bloody head of the bloody Military wing, this is your job. How the hell could this have happened?” she demanded, turning her back angrily and storming across the room.

“Well, I have reason to believe that it was one of the members of our Supreme Council who contacted the GHOSTs and gave them the information necessary to carry out these assassinations.”

“But… that would mean…” as she caught on, she wheeled, her hand reaching for the snub nose .38 in her belt. She was too late. She found herself staring down the four barrels of General Kessler’s COP .357 derringer. The pistol had been specially modified to fire all barrels simultaneously, giving it the effect of a shotgun blast at close quarters. As the nearly headless body of the last opposing councilmember fell to the floor. The General sharply wheeled on his heel and strode out of the room. The reigns of Deep Six waited.
***

The Axeman leveled his shotgun at the back of the kneeling Councilman’s head. He braced himself for the recoil. His finger began to take up the slack on the trigger. This would be the finishing blow. This would end the war.

“The Council will have your head for this.” Kane said, mainly to maintain the illusion of control, though fear was beginning to show through his bravado.

“The Council is dead.” Snarled the Axeman. He pulled the trigger.

Took the canoli for later. lol. That was great.

Quoting Clemenza from the Godfather "Leave the gun... take the cannoli."

Haha.......the Godfather!

That whole chapter was supposed to be reminiscent of the settling of the family business in the Godfather. If made into a movie, it would be done in a montage like that scene was.

I love my italian food.

You better share that damn cannoli, that's some good stuff.