ACDP Base Camp

October 17, 2011

11:34 P.M.

Steven arrived at the base camp to find a scene of chaos. All around the camp the bodies of the camp guards and support personnel lay prostrate, their faces frozen in a look of surprise and terror.

As the grizzly scene swept over the dark figure, he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. Steven gently placed his wounded comrade on the ground and instinctively reached behind his back where his M4 hung by the 3-point sling. Once his weapon was firmly in his hands, Steven began to slowly make his way into the eerily silent camp.

At first glance Steven could find no signs of struggle. There were no shell casings on the ground and even the barrels of the recently deceased’s weapons were cool to the touch. On closer inspection, the Special Forces veteran was able to see that each of the eleven militiamen were killed the same way, a single shot to the head.

“Snipers…” Steven whispered as a sense of foreboding washed over him.

Not wanting to linger anymore than he had too, Steven returned to where Dan lay and kneeled down next to him.

“You still with me bro?” Steven asked as he pushed his weapon behind his back once more.

Dan let out a soft groan in response as Steven hefted the wounded man in a firemen’s carry. Once Steven was sure of his grip he began to jog through the camp, praying that those who had carried out the attack were the ones wiped out by their combat group…however, that seemed doubtful.

Finally after what seemed like half an hour Steven reached the location where Dan had parked his Jeep. Steven quickly hefted Dan into the front passenger seat and shut the door, then ran around the hood of the vehicle and opened the driver side door.

Just as seated himself behind the wheel he heard what sounded like muffled voices. Not waiting to confirm his suspicions, Steven slammed the door shut and retrieved the keys from under the sun visor. The voices went silent in the next few moments as Steven pushed the silver key into the ignition and started the vehicle. The engine roared to life as Steven activated the headlights, revealing the two armed Los Zetas members in front of him.

Steven swore and ducked his head just in time to avoid the spray of submachine gun fire that tore through the window shield. In an instant Steven had put the vehicle into drive and slammed his foot on the gas, barreling into the two assailants. With the sound of the two bodies being thrown off of the hood of the vehicle, Steven lifted his head in time to steer onto the winding dirt road that would lead him down the mountain and back to the highway.

Suddenly gunfire erupted from the darkness behind the retreating vehicle, Steven struggled desperately to keep control of the jeep as rounds shredded the back tires and forced the vehicle into a skid. Steven barley had time to yell as the vehicle slammed sideways into a large evergreen tree.

Dan awoke after being thrown hard against the side of the vehicle by the collision. Not entirely sure where he was, the disgruntled militiaman struggled to get his bearings. It wasn’t until Steven kicked open the driver side door and exited the vehicle did Dan realize where he was.

“Wha…what the fuck did you do to my jeep!” Dan exclaimed woozily as he tried to pull himself up, but found he was still very weak.

“Shut up and stay down!” Steven barked, several bursts of automatic weapon fire punctuated his statement.

“Oh shit I should have stayed dead” Dan joked as he pushed himself further down in his seat.

As Dan watched, Steven shouldered his M4 and inserted a fresh magazine into the receiver, at the same time side stepping to draw the returning fire away from the front of the vehicle and away from Dan. After a few moments of fire Steven ducked down behind the vehicle again.

“Damnit I’m out…I know you’ve got a gun in here somewhere bro where is it!” Steven urged as he threw his M4 inside the Jeep and pulled his .45 from its holster.

“Under….under the seat” Dan grumbled as he pointed lazily to the backseat.

“That’s a good redneck” Steven joked as he tossed a pair of rain-jackets off the backseat and grabbed hold of the tabs that allowed him to pull the seat up.

“I’m supposed to be on vacation” Dan complained as bullets continued to impact in and around the vehicle.

Steven yanked hard on the tabs connecting to the back seat, pulling it up and revealing a Remington 870 12 Gauge where the tire jack should have been.

“I’m supposed to be on vacation” He heard Dan groan as more bullets ripped through the already defaced Jeep.

Steven shook his head as he pulled the riot gun from the vehicle and crouched behind the left rear tire where he waited for the firing to stop. Eventually the firing did just that, ceased. After a few tense moments of silence Steven could make out the unmistakable sound of footsteps closing in on their position. Steven pressed the safety on the weapon to the “fire” position and waited for the steps to grow even closer.

Once Steven was sure the tangos were within ten feet he pumped a 12 gauge slug into the chamber and swung around the corner of the jeep.

Time seemed to slow as the world renowned sound of the pump shotgun reverberated through the momentarily silent air as Steven stepped around the corner. The two Zetas began to raise their sub-machineguns as the tall, dark SWAT officer rounded the vehicle and placed the ghost ring sights of the shotgun on the nearest Zetas’ chest.

The shotgun barked and sent the mercenary flying backwards as the slug slammed into his chest at 2000 feet per second. His partner faired no better as Steven turned the shotgun his way and sent a second slug slamming through the mans cranium, taking his head “clean” off.

A 9mm round suddenly slammed into his shoulder as two more Zetas’ came charging out of the darkness near the edge of the road. Steven grabbed hold of the forearm of the shotgun with one hand and forced it up into the air then brought it back down hard, chambering a new slug in the chamber. Steven took cover back behind the jeep as he took hold of the shotgun with his right hand made ready to fire. Once his grip was sure, Steven rounded the corner once more and fired.

The shot went astray, missing the Zetas’ chest by mere inches and taking off his left arm instead.

The soldier turned criminal screamed in pain as he fell to the floor, his weapon still clutched tight in his severed arm a few inches away.

Steven tried to chamber another shell but failed as a handful of 9mm rounds tore into his Molly combat vest and smacked into the trauma plate that he had inserted there.

While his life was saved for the moment, the surprise caused Steven to lose his grip on the shotgun which dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

The last Zetas’ approached Steven, his Heckler and Koch MP5 shouldered and pointed at the ACDP members’ chest. The man stared at Steven through his black balaclava then shook his head.

Suddenly a bright light illuminated the pair as a Border Patrol helicopter turned on its’ spotlight.

“This is the United States Border Patrol, drop your weapons and place your hands behind your heads” Came a voice over the choppers loud speaker.

Steven took advantage of the momentary shock of the chopper. He rushed forward and knocked the weapon from the Zetas’ hands then followed through with a right hook to the mans face.

The Zetas stumbled backward and began to reach for his sidearm, before he could, several 9mm rounds ripped through his chest and sent him slumping forward.

Steven looked to his left to see the passenger side door open reveling Dan and a Glock 19 he had retrieved from the glove compartment.

Dan placed his Glock back inside the glove compartment and stumbled out of the vehicle as several Border Patrol SUV’s came charging up the dirt road, flashing lights and sirens blaring in the night.

“That’s twice” Dan gasped as he fell onto Steven, placing his body weight on his long time friend.

“All quiet now” Steven said as he gently lowered his injured comrade to the ground.

There, illuminated by the bright lights of incompetence, Dan closed his eyes and waited for the paramedics to whisk him away to somewhere more peaceful.

Sierra Vista Regional Health Center

October 18, 2011

8:15 AM

Dan awoke groggily, struggling to come to terms with his surroundings. Last he remembered he had been on his back staring up at a beautiful starlit sky…covered in crimson and chordite.

Dan struggled to sit up, however the movement was hindered by the pain emanating from his ribs and shoulder. The fact that both his arms were handcuffed to the hospital bed didn’t avail his situation.

“Nurse…fuck…someone” Dan rasped through a horrible cotton mouth.

After a few moments of silence footsteps began to echo down the oddly silent corridor. A short time later a young, blonde haired nurse strolled into the room.

“Sup girl” Dan coughed as the strikingly pretty nurse took his blood pressure and checked his bandages.

“You’re lucky to be alive, Mr. Brock” She replied coolly as she randomly scribbled on her clipboard.

“Yeah…so when do you go on break?” Dan said with a wink and the best smile he could manage.

“Oh how does the next ten decades sound” Came the voice of a third speaker from outside the room.

Dan struggled to turn and catch a glimpse of the unwanted intrusion, but was thwarted once again by his position and the handcuffs.

“That doesn’t sound good at all…I dunno if Viagra would even do me much good then” Dan remarked haphazardly.

The nurse turned and exited the room as a sinister looking man with a Mr. Clean head-do strolled smugly into the room.

“Oh you’re here to clean the floor?” Dan asked with a serious face.

“Okay smartass, let’s see how funny you are when you’re doing time for murder” The stocky man replied as he seated himself in a chair adjacent to Dan’s bed.

Dan raised an eyebrow and looked back to the door, hoping the nurse would return. He sighed when he realized no help would come and returned his gaze to the anonymous individual.

“I guess you have the wrong room sir, this is self defense. Murders down the hall” Dan quipped as he laid his head back and closed his eyes.

“Think again pal, you and that Orlando Jones looking friend of yours are the only survivors of an ambush of Mexican government officials.” The man coolly stated, seemingly reciting the story from memory.

“What?! It’s the other way around pal” Dan spat as he struggled against his restraints. “And that was racist!” He added, addressing the Orlando Jones comment.

“It’s okay, I realize you’re confused. Let me explain what happened last night. You, along with renegade members of the ACDP, were involved in the smuggling of illicit arms and substances into the United States. Last night you were attempting to receive a major shipment when you were ambushed by a joint task force of Border Patrol agents and members of the Mexican Governments elite anti-drug unit.” The man cooed while removing his sunglasses to reveal his cold green eyes.

“You were tipped off by an unknowing member of your organization” The man continued before Dan could offer his rebuttal. “And assaulted the task force, killing a number of Border Patrol agents and members of the Judicial Police Force. After losing most of your members to the task force, you and your friend retreated to the base camp, where you systematically assassinated each of the civilians to cover up your escape.”

The man took a deep breath as he prepared for the finale.

“Members of the Border Patrols’ Tactical team, BORTAC, intercepted you as you were fleeing the scene. However even with the overwhelming law enforcement presence, you and your partner were able to dispatch several agents before being apprehended.” He finished as he ran a gloved hand over his shiny forehead.

“Well I hope you didn’t pay your writer, because that’s a whole lot of bullshit.” Dan returned as he stared into the mans eyes.

“It’s the truth Mr. Brock…Dan Brock…Joshua Daniel Brock” The man droned as he put on a smug smile.

“Who are you?” Dan asked nervously, once again wondering about the absence of personnel in a normally bustling hospital.

“Just remember Josh, even though you may care about the truth, the public does not. Just in case you feel a need to insight unjust panic among the populace, I will also remind you that there are people…innocent people…who might have to pay the price” The man whispered sinisterly as he held up two pictures taken from Dan’s wallet. One showed a smiling picture of Dan and his family on a fishing trip, while the other, older picture showed Dan, Steven, and Kayla together at the local shooting range.

“I’ll kill you for this” Dan howled as he strained hopelessly against his restraints.

“I’m sure you’ll try” The man intoned, suddenly much closer to Dan than the he preferred.

“Hey…what are you doing…get ba…” Dan’s protests were cut short as the mysterious antagonist plunged the tip of a syringe into his left arm.

Immediately Dans’ mouth went slack as he fell back unceremoniously into his bed.

4 hours later…

Dan awoke not the sound of a blaring alarm clock, or the voice of a seductive nurse, but the sounds of gunfire.

Acting on instinct the former Marine rolled to his side to where his weapon would undoubtedly be near by…however the handcuffs once again reminded Dan of where he was.

“Nurse! Someone! What the fucks going on!” He yelled to the empty room.

No reply came from the eerily quiet corridor…it was only now that Dan noticed the absence of lights in his room and the adjoining hallway.

“GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Dan roared as he desperately struggled against his bonds, the sounds of gunfire and screams growing ever closer outside.

As the echoes of his screams died down, Dan made out the distinct sound of a pump action shotgun down the hall.

“Fuck…” He muttered, desperately looking around for any means of escape.

There was a muffled shot and the sound of a metal door being relieved of it’s hinges down the hallway, someone was coming for him.

Dan lay still now…his eyes wide as he prepared himself for whatever was to come through that door, however nothing prepared him for what he saw next.

“STEVEN!” Dan exclaimed as his long time friend stormed into the room, clad in BDU pants, a black Sierra Vista Police Department sweatshirt and wielding a Police issue shotgun.

“We gotta get you out of here bro” Steven said hurriedly as he pulled what looked to be a piece of a pair of glasses from the pocket of his pants and began picking the locks on Dan’s handcuffs.

“Steven what the hell is going on, where the fuck is everyone?” Dan whispered frantically, somehow fearing the silence would close in around him.

“Shut the fuck up and let me finish this bro” was all the reply Dan got as Steven frantically struggled to free Dan from his cuffs. Finally as the last set snapped open Steven yanked Dan up out of the bed and motioned for him to move against the wall.

Dan waited, his back pressed against the wall of the room as Steven peeked out around the corner of the door, his finger brushing the front of his shotguns’ trigger.

“Let’s go” He whispered as he began to walk quickly but silently down the hallway.

Dan quickly followed, he pulled his hospital gown tight around him as a chill began to run up his spine. Still unsure of what exactly was happening Dan began to grow more and more uneasy as he watched his friend stalk tactically through the hospital.

All around him lay discarded stretchers, empty rooms, and other discarded medical items. It was as if the entire hospital had run all at once. Somehow Dan felt he had gotten the short end of the stick.

At last Steven rounded the final corner into the lobby. Dan stood shocked, his gaze fixed on the open hospital doors. The outside world was no longer the bustling business of a small town that Dan remembered. Instead, smoke churned into the sky from various fires burning further down the road. Several police cruisers lay down the street, utterly destroyed as sherbert flames belched from underneath their hoods. In the distance Dan could make out sporadic gunfire, occasionally punctuated by the screams of unknown victims.

“What the fuck…” Dan wandered, his hand absentmindedly drifting behind his back to where his Glock was usually holstered.

Dan cursed himself as his hand grasped only air. It wasn’t long until Steven tapped him on the shoulder, motioning him to follow quietly. The pair slipped out of the parking lot and made their way through a series of backyards until they came to a deserted side street.

Finally after what seemed like hours of silence, Steven pushed his back up against a nearby tree and took a few deep, spiteful breaths.

“What the fuck is going on!” Dan demanded, his previous patience now fully diminished.

Steven looked into Dan’s eyes for a moment, a defeated expression slowly consuming his visage.

“They hit us…they hit us hard.” Steven finally answered, his fingers tightening around his shotgun.

“Who?” Dan immediately asked.

“Everyone.” Steven half whispered.

There was silence as Dan stood dumbstruck, unable to digest the information that was being presented to him.

“What we ran into was the first elements of the invasion, one of several hunter-killer teams sent out to ambush our first defenders.” Steven explained grimly as he scanned the area cautiously.

“What about the National Guard? The Border Patrol? The police?” Dan frantically inquired.

“From what I’ve gathered this wasn’t just an assault on the border. All over the country our military bases are under siege by elements of the MS-13 gangs along with thousands of criminal aliens, there’s no help coming for now, at least.”

Dan pressed his back up against a nearby wall and slowly slid to the ground, running his hands through his hair.

“We’ve always known the Chinese were smuggling in weapons…just could never figure what for” Dan whispered.

Steven nodded, taking a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the momentary silence that permeated the neighborhood.

It was almost too much to bear, realizing that for the first time a foreign army was occupying the United States. It was even more difficult to understand that while the enemies of America put years of precious planning into this event, it couldn’t have been done without the help of serious negligence, or worse, on the part of the American government.

“I can hear the screams, I can hear their boots coming for us brother” Steven whispered, his eyes lost to the chaos within his own mind.

“Let them come…” Dan breathed, regaining some of his normal composure.

Steven only nodded, tilting his head back and staring upwards toward the grey heavens.

“I’m with you to the end, brother” Steven uttered solemnly.

“To the end” Dan agreed.

“What a cluster fuck” Steven mumbled as he stood from his rest and prepared to move.

Dan turned his head to the side, taking in the crescendo of gunfire that once again rang through the air with a grim smile.

“Welcome to the fallout.”