Prologue
As Phantom Commander Tanner Winchester strolled out of his office, he was surprised to be greeted by a bunch of his subordinates, who popped confetti in his face.
“Happy Birthday, Commander!” they yelled in unison.
“Thanks for the surprise party,” he said, his eyes unfocused and staring into the distance.
“Of course it’s not over yet! Come over here to our canteen,” one of them said happily. “We’ve got something waiting for you.”
Winchester shook his head. “I have some other pressing matters.”
“Like what?”
“You will be involved in these matters.”
“Ooh!” the young men yelled. Since their recruitment, none of them had really been involved in anything.
“We’ll talk about it later; I’m holding a conference about it soon. Tell your friends.”
The new soldiers walked away, slightly disappointed yet very curious.
Some hours later, Winchester walked upon the grand stage of the main hall in the Phantom base. His usual cheery air was replaced by a serious, careful one. Apparently, he was pondering over something, probably an important decision, which he had to make.
“I have a lot of things to show you all today,” he said. “Let me get this over and done with.” He turned on the projector, and appeared on the screen a horrifying (at least to the new recruits) image of a smouldering, crumbling building.
“This is our Phantom base at Houston. The Ghosts launched a surprise attack on it two days ago. We lost several important men and a lot of resources. I was deliberating, just now, over our course of action. I decided on full-on revenge.”
A loud “Oooooooh!” erupted from the soldiers again. Winchester was sick of the enthusiasm of the new soldiers by now.
“You’re going to be at the front lines,” he concluded. He could see that the soldiers were looking at one another in a combination of the most extreme delight and excitement and paralysing bewilderment. He sighed and shook his head. These soldiers don’t know what to expect, he thought. Being on the front lines equals near certain death. They don’t understand that I sent them out as machine gun fodder. Good luck, soldiers.
“So,” he said. “So… So!” he shouted, drawing back the soldier’s attention. The chatter died down. “We’re going to go to Moscow and get hold of the Ghosts’ headquarters.”
Commander Winchester droned on and on about the details of the attack. The soldiers listened very attentively despite the monotonous tone of his voice.
Chapter 1
A large Antonov cargo plane cruised at thirty thousand feet above the sea. Commander Winchester, two sergeants, a hundred of his soldiers and five Humvees were in it. Winchester was busy discussing his plans with the rest.
The plan, as all of the commander’s plans were, was an elaborate one, even though the essence of it was simple. Winchester loved to use the element of surprise, followed by shock and, as a result, paralysation of the enemies and then wiping everyone out. It was the resources and the way of carrying his plan out that made it elaborate. Parachutes were attached on the roofs of the Humvees, and at a specific position, the Humvees would be driven out, and they would land right at the entrance of the Ghosts’ base, where the massacre would begin.
Winchester’s soldiers were rigorously trained, they knew tons of tactics and skills and they were equipped with the best weapons. He was confident that the Ghosts would stand no chance against them.
Commander Winchester and the plane’s pilot communicated with the Phantom headquarters via radio. The plane’s position was being monitored continuously. “It’s three kilometres from it now,” headquarters radioed to the plane.
“Roger,” replied Winchester. “We’re about to deploy.”
He ordered the soldiers and sergeants into the Humvees and then got the pilot to open the hatch.
“Ready!” he screamed into his walkie-talkie. “Remember – we must coordinate this, or else we’ll crash into each other! On the count of three!”
Three seconds later, the five Humvees careened out of the plane and dropped from the sky.
“We’re a thousand metres from the ground!” yelled Winchester half a minute later. “Open ‘em up now!”
The parachutes popped out from the top of the vehicles and billowed out, slowing their descent. As the clouds thinned out, the outline of a monstrous grey building appeared.
“Ready…” said the commander, as the vehicles came within a hundred and fifty metres of the building. “Grab your machine guns… soon enough… get set… FIRE!”
A barrage of huge speeding bullets pierced the façade of the Ghosts’ headquarters, smashing glass and setting off alarms. The soldiers cut the parachutes off their Humvees, which dropped to the ground before speeding forward in a roar of tyres and engines.
The soldiers wound down the bulletproof windows of the vehicles, stuck their M60s and MG36s out and sprayed bullets on the two sentries keeping guard at the gate, who dropped dead in freakish poses. The Humvees sped on, mowing down the men who were running out of the building to see what was going on.
The Humvees arrived at the reinforced concrete walls of the building, but there was a little door that was left open as the Ghosts were rushing out. The Phantoms grabbed their guns, got out of their vehicles and went through the door. To their dismay, there was another big wall facing them. Suddenly, there was a cry of rage and a lone Ghost soldier rushed towards the Phantoms, wielding an AK74 assault rifle. Commander Winchester rushed forward, grabbed his little Glock 17 and whacked the soldier in the head. The soldier went limp on the ground, and Winchester picked up the AK74, admired it and passed it to one of his own men.
That small attack was, as the Phantoms were soon to find out, proceeded by another attack on a much larger magnitude. A set of doors opened at the end of the corridors, and hundreds of mad Ghosts rushed out, firing wildly at the Phantoms.
Commander Winchester was stunned momentarily. He dived behind another soldier just as a slug from one of the Ghosts’ shotguns narrowly missed him and went straight into the other soldier. “Oh shit. COUNTER-ATTACK!” he bellowed, grabbing his dead subordinate’s M16 and shooting blindly at the Ghosts. Diving behind more soldiers and running to the back of the line, he grabbed a grenade from his belt, lighted it and flung it as far as he could. The grenade landed squarely in the middle of the Ghost squad, fragmenting and sending limbs, heads and blood flying and spattering all over.
He watched in agony as his soldiers dropped dead around him. He had to do something about the declining situation. He rushed out of the complex, jumped into one of the Humvees and sped to the other side of the building.
There was, as he had expected and hoped for, a door that was large enough to fit the Humvee. He drove through, and found himself behind the Ghosts. Stomping on the accelerator, Winchester whammed his enemies down. They tried to shoot him, but the Humvee was bulletproof and the bullets just bounced off its impenetrable steel chassis.
There were only a few Ghosts left and the Phantoms overcame them easily. After that, they were busy picking up magazine after magazine from the Ghost’s weapons.
Stocked with ammunition, the Phantoms ran out of the Ghosts’ headquarters, jumped into their Humvees and escaped.
“We’ll be going back soon,” Commander Winchester told his soldiers. “We haven’t eliminated all the Ghosts yet. If we stayed, we would all get killed. We’ll stay around here for a couple of days before launching a second attack.”
He continued, “Be glad that you survived. We are ready for the next fight!”
Chapter 2
Commander Winchester was resting in his makeshift cubicle set up in an old, deserted building some distance away from the Ghosts' headquarters. He was contemplating his next move, although he was slightly disturbed by the annoying pictures of manga and anime characters sketched out on the walls. There were also big, colourful blobby letters plastered around the place, forming random words like 'LITO'.
Winchester sighed and closed his eyes to block out the eyesores. Finally, he decided to postpone the second attack and make a move himself.
He walked out to the main hall, where light shined in from the skylight high above. "I need someone's help," he ordered. "Anyone cared to get some Ghost uniforms from our victims yesterday?"
There was silence for an instant before one hand was raised. "I did, sir. I thought it might come in handy."
"It sure will come in handy!" said the commander. "Give it to me. I'll need it."
After obtaining the Ghosts' uniforms, putting on a wig, using makeup to add and remove a few wrinkles here and there and grabbing the AK74 he had stolen the previous day, Winchester was sure he could pass easily as a Ghost.
He set out in his Humvee, and when he neared the Ghosts' headquarters, he abandoned his vehicle and pretended to limp towards the base. It was not long before he was spotted. Of course, everyone believed that he really was a stray Ghost who had been fortunate enough to escape from the tyrannical hands of the Phantoms. When he made a few insults towards the Phantoms and their "unreliable M4, M16 sort of crap", the Ghosts even applauded for him.
He was provided with good food and a bed of a standard that his own makeshift base could never have accommodated.
After all the luxuries, Winchester knew that he had to execute his plan. At lunch the next day, after a hard and emotionally painful morning repairing the base, he struck up a conversation with one of the Ghost soldiers.
"So," he said with a deliberate Russian accent, "After all this, you know, we can't just admit defeat."
"Yeah," said his enemy soldier sitting right next to him. "It's revenge after revenge. That's how it is. We've figured out that the Phantoms are camping out five kilometres away from here, and we're going to make all their coats redder than the tailor ever could."
Commander Winchester had to bite his tongue and hug himself in order to stop himself from spluttering in shock and having a fit. The Phantoms had taken possession of the base so secretly! How on earth...
"Y..... yes..... okay.... Wow! Nice job there! How did you manage it?"
"You know, we've got some sneaky scouts armed with MP7s running around the place. I mean, after this attack, we realised that we need scouts to prevent further loss of life. And they found that a base that was supposed to be deserted had a light coming from a window... the Phantoms were such idiots!"
"Anything... else?"
"Needless to say, one and a half tons of plastic explosives have been buried in the ground outside the base, connected to sensors at every exit."
"Sorry - sudden stomach cramp," said Winchester, "You know, a day without food or water out there... I'm starving..." And with that, he dashed out of the base. His plan was not even halfway done, but he had to go back immediately.
Leaping into his Humvee and speeding back to the Phantom base, the commander quickly communicated with the two sergeants. "Block all the exits!" he yelled. As he pulled up to the base, three of his soldiers were upon the roof, looking down at him. They threw down some equipment. Winchester met everyone else at the main door of the base, but was careful not to step in. One of the soldiers had knowledge of bomb defusal. He gave instructions to Winchester and some of his other fellow soldiers. They dug carefully and meticulously, making sure that the bomb wouldn't go off too early. A drill was placed in the ground with a camera, and slowly the area was searched. However, the search revealed nothing. They dug further. Still nothing.
"What the hell!" shouted Winchester angrily. That Ghost must've seen through my disguise, and maybe my accent! He provided me with false information!"
"Oh well." The soldiers sighed in relief. One of the soldiers walked forward to retrieve the drill and other things that had been passed to Winchester.
All of a sudden, there was a deafening, piercing blast and Winchester was thrown backward, temporarily blinded. He could hear screams of panic. Utterly shocked and in pain, he sat up. Just a metre from where he had been standing was a gaping crater, encrusted with blood. Smoke rose high up from the crater. The entrance of the base had been completely blown off. A few stray limbs remained where his soldiers had been some seconds before.
All of a sudden, pain came to Winchester. Raw, excruciating pain, like a hatchet being stuck into his leg. He looked, and to his horror and disgust, there was melted rubber where his right boot had used to be and a huge red gash in place of his foot.
Too weak to do anything else, Winchester collapsed upon the ground, unconscious.
---
"Commander? Commander? Come on, sir, wake up!"
Commander Winchester slowly came to his senses, fluttering his eyes open. He figured that he was in the canteen of his base, laid out on two tables put together.
A huge cast was put over his right leg below the ankle, and when he tried to move it, it did not respond.
"Let me just go back," he said weakly. "No. We all have to go back. We were outsmarted by those idiots. We cannot continue yet."
"I agree, commander," said one of the sergeants, who was standing over him. "They may launch an attack on us soon."
"We escape now. Go by the main entrance, not any others. The Ghosts put bombs under all the doors, and the only safe exit is the one that has already been blown."
"Yes. I shall give orders on your behalf."
---
Back at the Phantom headquarters, Commander Winchester was too weak to do much. He stayed in the library all day planning the Phantoms' next moves.
Phantom forces all around the world had been mobilised and were ready to charge at the Ghosts. Winchester was well aware that his decisions could end many innocent lives. Even his life could be in danger, so he took the utmost care to plan things out perfectly.
He knew that blindly raging into the Ghosts' bases, like the Phantoms had done many times before, was not the most efficient option. The Ghosts could easily defeat them with a bit of ingeniuity. The Phantoms needed to have that ingeniuity too. Instead of going on a rampage, the Phantoms would destroy the roots of the Ghosts' - their economy and weapon production facilities.
Winchester recalled with a grimace the wreckage that had become of Factory Seven, the production line for the Phantoms' invaluable F16 fighter planes. Although the Phantoms had been unable to pinpoint the exact person responsible for the attack, they knew that the improvised explosive devices kept there had been the cause. Winchester had a suspicion, though - even though it was impossible to confirm, he had a niggling feeling that it was the infamous Segen Bashar Sheep, one of the highest-ranked persons of the Ghost Force. That idiot had foiled numerous Phantom plans, and since the Phantoms' deeds were always of the highest secrecy, he had no idea how Sheep had managed to get hold of and defeat them. Whatever it was, the next attack was to be primarily directed at Sheep. He had to be killed!
Chapter 3
"Hello? Are you receiving?"
"Loud and clear."
"Good. There'll be something going on soon. On the 1st of August, our scout units will be heading across the Great Basin Desert, northern Nevada - to launch Honour One. Meet at the agreed coordinates."
"Noted."
---
"Those fucking idiots!" chortled Segen Bashar Sheep at the Ghost headquarters. "They didn't even speak in code! I suppose they were too confident that no one could eavesdrop on their radio conversations. I've been listening to all their details for about a week, and am positive that they're heading out to the desert - guess what for? They're going to launch their latest nuclear missile. This isn't their first nuclear mission, and this won't be the first time we've stopped them. Thanks, Phantoms. Listen up, Ghosts! We're heading out to America in a week to intercept Phantom scouts, the 5th Strategic Weapons Command, I think. I'll give orders for preparations soon. Get ready your rifles, soldiers! I think our collection of VSS Vintorez snipers would work beautifully. удачи!"
---
A chorus of low rumbles disturbed the peace in the great Nevada desert. Suddenly, sand started flying everywhere as three Humvees and a Ford F150 Raptor sped through the vast dune-dotted plain.
"Team. Prepare to meet the launch squad," Commander Winchester's voice boomed through the walkie-talkies of the vehicles. He was slightly annoyed that he had to postpone all his plans for some nuclear testing, but he knew that the missiles would be useful.
Upon the horizon loomed up a huge rocket, surrounded by several small huts and tents, which were the residences of the team who would launch the Honour One, the Phantoms' fourth nuclear missile. Winchester hoped fervently that the Ghosts wouldn't interfere on this mission, like they had on two other occasions. "All right; listen up, guys. Remember why we're here. We're here to check out our latest nuclear weapon that could be used against the Ghosts. It's going to be tested here, and will land around thirty miles from here, right over there on the horizon. We'll stay to see the mushroom cloud, and then we zoom off to prevent getting radiated from the fallout."
Once Winchester's team arrived at the launch site, final preparations for launch began. Tests and checks were conducted; calculations were carried out and finally, the rocket that would power the missile was readied.
In the meantime, Segen Bashar Sheep and his comrades were laid down on a sand dune two kilometres away, watching the Phantoms' every move with their 10x magnification customised scopes on their VSS Vintorez sniper rifles.
"They're about to launch the missile," warned Sheep. "Get ready to surprise them before they can do it. Remember - if they launch Honour One before we can attack, escape immediately. We might be pretty near to the place where it will land, and we don't wanna get radiation poisoning from this thing, or even worse, get burnt to ashes."
Segen Bashar Reaper, one of Sheep's close friends and comrades and the one in charge of communications for that mission, was listening intently to the Phantoms' radio chatter.
"Ten minutes to launch. Conduct last minute safety checks," said a random Phantom.
Reaper gasped. "Ten minutes to launch. ATTACK NOW!"
"FIRE!" bellowed Sheep.
Commander Winchester and his team were walking around, having a good look at things and admiring the majestic missile before them when in a flash, two of the men working beside them fell to the ground, blood flowing profusely from their chests.
Winchester was momentarily confused, before he started raging while running for cover.
"THOSE GHOSTS WRECKED OUR PLANS AGAIN! THIS IS THE THIRD FUCKING TIME!" screamed Winchester. Shots whizzed by him as he ducked behind a truck that was parked near a building. Someone had already taken cover behind the truck, and he happened to be one of Winchester's soldiers. "We have our Remington 700 here," said the soldier, brandishing his rifle, "and we're going to salvage this mission!"
"Yes! Quickly! Do it!" urged Winchester.
The soldier scoped in and looked around. "Oh my god, where the hell are they? Oh, there they are, wow, they had a pretty good hiding p-"
Winchester's face was suddenly bloodied, as a result of the soldier's head being blasted apart.
"Ha!" said Sheep, two kilometres away. "We got that idiot aiming so slowly over there. He thought we couldn't spot him behind the truck."
Winchester grabbed the Remington 700, still clean and unfired. He rechambered a round and cautiously and quickly aimed around, spotting the Ghosts' hideout. He ducked down just as a shot went straight above his head, boring a hole in the wall behind him.
He positioned his gun, ran into the open, scoped in quickly and fired randomly, obviously not hitting anything. Then he jumped back behind the truck.
This was the first nuclear test Winchester had attended, and it certainly was to be his last. He would spend all his time working out strategies against the Ghosts.
He wasn't a very good marksman; he always was either wielding a machine gun or an assault rifle. However, he remembered the days in his training where he was required to learn how to calculate bullet drop for sniper rifles.
Calling back the memories, he peeked out of the truck again, aimed at the Ghosts, pushed the barrel upwards a bit to compensate for bullet drop and pulled the trigger with all his might. He saw blood in his crosshair as one of the Ghosts fell.
"Shit!" Segen Bashar Sheep glanced around frantically. "One man down. We have to shoot more intensively! Hurry up!"
Spurred on, Winchester grabbed a round from the box of ammunition lying on the ground dropped by his dead soldier, loaded it into the Remington 700's barrel and fired at the Ghosts again. Looking into his scope, Winchester saw that he had immobilised, but not killed, one of the Ghosts. Suddenly, the Ghost fell to the ground, the life sucked out of him. He looked, and there was another soldier some distance to his left, shooting out of one of the tents.
Winchester knew that the Ghosts were at a huge advantage. They all had powerful snipers, whereas most of the Phantoms were unarmed and only a few were equipped with weapons, most of them assault rifles or pistols that were totally unsuitable for sniping.
Then he had an idea. He knew that the Humvees that the Phantoms had arrived in were armoured and bulletproof, although he wasn't too sure if they were sniper-proof. Anyway, he spotted one some distance away and tried to work out a plan to get to it.
He aimed at the Ghosts again, and to his luck, they weren't looking in his direction. A bang reverberated around the area as a bullet from his Remington 700 blasted at the Ghosts and pierced a small hole in a Ghost's forehead, killing him immediately. The bullet's velocity was so high that it continued speeding, out of the Ghost's body, and straight into the chest of another Ghost that was unlucky enough to be squatting behind him. It was a collateral!
The Ghosts were weakened by now, and Winchester made a run for the bulletproof Humvee. He yanked open the door, jumped in and was about to speed off when he realised that the key was missing.
He was stunned for a moment, before quickly recalling his knowledge of hotwiring vehicles, and after running to grab some makeshift tools from the back of the Humvee, cut a hole in the floor, put wires together and in a flash, the engine was running. Winchester stomped on the accelerator and sped towards the Ghosts.
Several rounds cracked his windscreen but did not break it as the Humvee raced straight for the Ghosts' hideouts. In a fit of panic, the Ghosts jumped aside, but all but one were still mowed down by the six-tonne Humvee.
Looking in his rear view mirror, Winchester instantly recognised the Ghost who was lucky enough to have dodged his Humvee.
"Shit!"
It was Segen Bashar Sheep.
Chapter 4
Knowing that the Phantoms had, somehow, overpowered the Ghosts, Segen Bashar Sheep jumped into his vehicle and escaped.
Commander Winchester was furious that the Ghosts had intercepted them yet again, but had absolutely no clue as to how they did it. He hoped that the missile launch could continue. However, when the casualties were counted, reaching a total of fifty-two, the Phantoms had no choice other than to abandon their plans.
"We'll come back to the site eventually," the project manager, Major John Potter, a friend of Winchester's, reassured him. Major Potter had not had as much experience on the battlefield as Winchester - however, even though it was Winchester making and carrying out plans for his soldiers to follow, it was Potter that actually oversaw most of it. He was able to estimate the consequences for every plan, for example, the number of men lost, due to his past jobs. He usually advised Winchester while the plans were being constructed.
But this time, Winchester was intent on having the missile launched. He had just seen the deaths of many of his comrades, and if everything was just abandoned, they would have given their lives for nothing.
"No," said Potter firmly. "We have lost some of the launch crew. Most of the people now are inexperienced workers who have joined the Phantom force, and they've only just been given training; we can't say for sure if they know what they're doing."
"Why can't you fucking trust them?" screamed Winchester. "We're not going to let everything go to waste! And if you do launch this thing, make sure you aim it directly at the Ghosts' base."
This last sentence struck something in Major Potter. Like Winchester, he had been yearning to eliminate the Ghosts for several years. Their missile was so well calibrated and everything made to the finest quality, why was a test even needed? Wouldn't a test waste precious funds? Why not treat this as a real mission?
"Let's do it."
---
"Motor A, start, check."
"Motor B, start, check."
"Motor C..."
---
"Time to launch: Twenty seconds! Everyone prepare yourselves and move away from the launch site! To those who are staying near, here is a last reminder to put on your earplugs and dust masks! Ten! Nine! Eight..."
"Three, two, one..."
Commander Winchester and the (surviving) members of his team were already some distance away from the missile when, in a flash, sand obscured his view and a deafening blast reverberated through the air. Winchester hoped that everything would be well, because he was the one who wanted the launch.
When the dust cleared, the missile was a little dot in the sky, heading east for the Ghosts' base.
The next morning, as he and his soldiers were eating their breakfast, someone with a look of shock and horror rushed into the mess hall. It was one of the Phantom messengers. The messenger called for urgent attention and everyone turned to face him.
"Yesterday, as you all know, despite the huge setback caused by the Ghosts, the Honour One, our latest nuclear missile, was launched. At first, everything went well. Instead of its original plan to land in the desert, the missile's path was amended, and it went east towards the Ghosts' headquarters. The situation was okay up till then.
"However...
"One of our inexperienced new recruits was not very familiar with our computers and the coordinates input system, and so she set the missile not on a course to the Ghost's headquarters on the northwest of Russia, but straight towards our French branch."
There were gasps, and then a horrified silence.
"Our missile, which you all know is the most powerful one we've made to date, totally decimated the building and everything within a twenty-kilometre radius of it.
"For the past few decades, the war between the Phantoms and the Ghosts has been unknown to the normal public. Now, it's all over."
The messenger walked off, leaving a total mess in the mess hall.