Chapter 1: The Beginning.

Toby Springfield sniffled and rubbed the bottom of his nose as he leaned back in his rolling chair. He looked at the screen with a tired stare for what must have been the third time that hour. He had asked for this overtime, mainly because he needed the money to pay his rent. There was only one or two other people in the entire building and none on Toby’s floor. He looked to the exit of the cubicle.

It was so tempting but he knew he couldn’t or else one of the other two people, the desk manager, or that blonde ditz; might tell the boss and get him busted. If he had been paying attention to the surrounding environment he would have noticed the sound of a single scream followed by muffled gun fire below but didn’t. What he did notice was the sound of the door kicking in and hurried footsteps.

He would have ducked anyways but it was the sound of Russian voices and the beams of light scanning the darkened walls that really made him duck. He turned off the light in his cubicle and went prone. His hands gripped the shag carpet as he moved down the floor, holding as tight to the walls as he could. Hugging to the wall paid off as men speaking in panicked Russian rushed right by without noticing him.

Their boots thudded as they aimed in to every cubicle they passed, their beams of light missing Toby as he continued crawling to the edge of the cubicles. He reached the edge, a quiet sense of relief starting to ebb at him. He peered around the corner to see the off-kilter door with nobody guarding it. He let out the tiniest sigh of gratefulness and mentally thanked god as he crawled to the door and in to the dimly lit stair well.

He barely stood up and made his way down one flight of stairs without anything interesting in sight but when he reached the top of the second flight he heard more voices. It was more of them and they were coming for the door way. He looked around, no cover and no way to go back. He had nowhere to hide until he remembered a move he had seen on the Splinter Cell game. He planted his feet on the wall and used his hands to edge up.

He moved up in to the shadows of the roof and watched as two Russian men dressed in full uniform walked through the doorway. They talked for what seemed like hours but was; according to the clock on the wall ahead only half a minute. Then both men headed upstairs, still casually chatting. Toby then dropped down, quietly, and made his way to the door.

He went prone despite only seeing two Russians and made his way through the center row where that blonde’s desk was. Toby kept crawling silently until he reached the blonde’s office. The light overhead was on but there seemed to be no life inside. He saw a pocket knife with a fake silver chain on the floor and gently tugged on it. The sight that followed almost made him want to gag.

The blonde was in her office alright, but she wouldn’t tell on anybody for leaving any time soon. A single bullet had found a home in her head, right between what used to be bright jade green eyes. Now they were faded and devoid of any real life. He slowly pulled the chain off her neck, getting himself a new weapon.

He looked at one side of the knife and engraved in the deep blue plastic was ‘Kathleen-Joey’. He wrapped the necklace around his fingers and held the knife blade-down. Now armed he made his way for the door once more; finding a guard standing a few feet away from the door. Toby made his way through the shadow, knife at the ready. He moved in behind the Soviet soldier and he never saw it coming.

Toby clamped a hand over the man’s mouth and drove the knife deep in to his jugular vein. He kneed the guard in the back to give him a downward angle and then Toby finally set the man down. He pulled the knife out of the man’s throat and wiped the blade on the carpet. He then took the man’s weapon, most likely an AK of some kind, black too. He took it and two extra clips which he stuffed in his belt.

Now properly armed he made his way through the door and down two more flights of stairs where he entered the expansive lobby. The floor was lined with beautiful orange and black tiles which formed various patterns. In front of Toby was the desk manager who was being held against the wall with a gun to the back of his head. Besides that there were four other Russians who weren’t aware of Toby yet.

“Hey!” Toby shouted to the five Russians.

He raised his rifle and fired at the first one, the one pointing the gun at the desk manager. His helmet went flying as he fell to the ground. Time seemed to go in slow motion as the desk manager dived down and took the man’s gun, proceeding to dive behind the silver desk right after. Toby aimed again and in a single shot another man fell. The man’s AK went off, bullets thudding in to the tiles and cracking them as he fell.

The third one twirled to his right, a bullet through his eye, his gun firing a circle around him. The fourth one had raised his rifle but the desk manager rose up with his stolen pistol and fired. The man’s gun went flying in what seemed like slow motion as Toby fired again. The round found home in the man’s forehead and time seemed to return to a normal flow as the man thudded to the ground, his legs and arms sprawling.

Amazingly, despite the two men who had fired their guns at death, Toby was unscathed. The desk manager then emerged from behind his cover and made his way over to Toby, a look of relief on his face as he did so. Both held a silent look of thankfulness for each others’ arrival and both remained quiet for several minutes until the desk manager broke the silence “Come on, I know somewhere safe to hide.”

He led him out the front door to the Des Moines streets as gunfire from an overhead chopper raked the civilians dashing across the tarmac. Several civilians arched their back and screamed as they were gunned down. The desk manager led Toby down the sidewalk, both of them sprinting as fast as they possibly could. Toby thought the man would simply lead him inside a building but instead the man led him to an open sewer.

He waved Toby down and Toby gladly clambered down the ladder to the concrete platform that had been waiting below. The desk manager followed soon after and has he stepped on the cement a flashlight came on and a pistol clicked. Toby froze in the light that shined on the two of them as the silence seemed to freeze everything around them. The man holding the light didn’t speak either for the longest time.

“Oh, it’s you Joseph.” The man holding the flashlight said.

The desk manager nodded as the flashlight moved away to a lantern which clicked on to show a rather well constructed raft and a well-built African American man waving them on board. The desk manager led Toby on to the raft and the man picked up a large oar. The man started rowing and the raft made a slow path through the tunnels of the Des Moines sewers.

The raft went for what felt like an eternity until it finally stopped at a large ‘island’ in the center of the sewers. The raft came to one of the cement outcroppings and stopped there. The desk-manager led Toby to a gap in the railing and to a section of the ‘island’ where only a few crates were stored

“Here, take a gun; in exchange you must give the one you have.” The desk-manager said.

Toby remembered how easily he had killed those five Russians with one shot each. With that he looked for the nearest long-ranged weapon and found it: an M40A3 with a gray and black paint scheme. He picked up the rifle and looked through the scope. It just seemed to fit him perfectly. With that he slung it on his back and followed the desk manager who led him to another section of the place which held a table and a map.

Besides that there were two comfy chairs, a cabinet with various supplies, a sink with a medicine cabinet, and a torn up rug. Basically they had made a mini-home in that section of the ‘island’. Beside that there wasn’t much else. The desk manager made his way for the table and map which seemed to be the room’s center-point. The desk manager stepped on the opposite side of the table as Toby and looked at the map.

“This is our home; with complete control of the sewers we can go anywhere.” He said.

“What about the Russians?” Toby asked the desk manager.

“They can’t get in; they have no idea where pockets of us might be.” The manager said.

“I see.” Toby said simply.

“Come here and look at the map.” The manager said in what was almost a bossy tone.

Toby did as the man asked and looked at the map. It was a simple low-grade satellite image of Des Moines with marker outlines around various sections of the city along with labels for each area. The desk manager moved his finger along each area as if planning were to send Toby.

“Here we go; we’ll have you provide sniper cover for a raid on a gas station.” He said.

“I ain’t going in these clothes!” Toby exclaimed in a warning tone.

“Then go to your right, there should be plenty of clothes then go to the raft.” He said.

“Thank you.” Toby said in a relived tone as he walked to the right.

Half an hour later…

Toby ascended the ladders to the surface of the already opened man-hole and came out in a small, poorly lit alley. That worked well with his gray ‘cloak’ and other clothing. It also worked well with the wrappings he had put around his rifle. He essentially looked like a blob as he made his way to the mouth of the alley and peered around the corner for any hostiles.

He didn’t see any but what he did see was four men in various clothes and some with large packs on crouched behind an old, blasted out taxi. To the right of them was two more men and a woman all crouched behind a blown up truck. Toby looked at them all. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that these guys were the freedom fighters who were going to do the raid.

“Hey, over here you guys.” Toby called out at a whisper loud enough for them to hear.

“Hey you, come over her.” The woman behind the truck said with the same tone.

Toby checked the area for any hostiles and then made his way over to the truck with high speed but stayed at a crouch. He reached the truck in almost no time at all and pressed himself against it. The woman was a young girl with blonde hair who looked as old as Toby or maybe younger.

“You’re the sniper the sent, good; find a good place to see over that wall.” She said.

She pointed to a large stone wall and shook his head as he looked to the building right next to him. He made his way to the other side of the truck and saw the door was ajar, perfect. Toby put his rifle on his back and was ready to run until the girl stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Take this.” The young blonde girl said as she handed over a small walkie-talkie.

Toby nodded and clipped it on his belt as he then made his way to the door without incident once more. The building was a three story hardware store with the second one likely being where the family stayed and the third being the attic. That was what Toby assumed but he couldn’t be sure.

Either way he made his way up the first flight of stairs and was proven correct as on his way to the second flight of stairs he saw what looked like a living room. He made his way up the second flight to a rather cold and darkened attic with only one uncovered window. He went prone and crawled to the window in silence. He put his rifle on its stands and barely opened the window enough to shoot through.

“Attention, this is the sniper, I am ready to go.” Toby said in to the walkie-talkie.

“Rodger that sniper, we will move on your shot.” The girl’s voice said.

Toby peered through the scope at the other side of the wall. Several Russians patrolled on the concrete but what Toby deemed as a threat was a Russian sniper who stupidly wore no camouflage and was standing on the roof of the station. He zoomed in and was almost amazed at the detail he saw on the man. The man hadn’t shaved that morning and Toby moved down to his hands.

He almost felt a tear coming to his eyes as he moved back to the man’s head. He fired and watched as the body fell back, the wedding ring glistening as the dead man dropped. Toby pulled back the bolt as the Russians below frantically looked for the sniper. He took aim at another Russian, one mounting a machine gun. Clean shaven, the man’s face was stained with blood as he dropped.

Freedom Fighters busted through a nearby door and more gunfire erupted between the two forces. Toby took pot shots at any Russian who seemed to be a serious threat as to keep their heads down or kill them. The Freedom Fighters went through the front door of the gas station and after several minutes, emerge with a young woman following them.

“Sniper we have the package; pull out.” The voice said.

Toby stood up and ran through the building until he reached the front door. He ran to the group of Freedom Fighters who were now going to the alley Toby had come from. The blonde girl waved the second girl down and then Toby. They saw the raft waiting for them silently and the first group of Freedom Fighters climbed on, Toby included.

Half an hour later…

Toby leaned on the stone wall of the large ‘dome’. There were several ramps set up between the ‘island’ and the ring of concrete at the base of the dome around it. Apperantly the girl they had rescued was Emily Steele, the leader of the group. How she had known to be so prepared was beyond Toby but it was probably because of the ‘Warning against Reds’ show that had been taken off the air.

Toby looked at his rifle. It now lay lazily on his lap and he cursed himself for picking it up. The images of those he had shot were playing through his head like some sort of sick movie. He kept pulling back the bolt and sliding it forward. He was spreading grease through the chamber, something one of the other fighters told him to do. He was brought back to the real world at the sound of the desk manager.

“Here he is ma’am.” The desk-manager said in a kind tone.

“Thank you Joseph.” The Emily girl said to him.

He saw the shadow of the young woman come to rest over his rifle. He looked up at her the light of the lamp. She wore a short black tank top and cargo shorts which looked tan in the candle light of the lamp. She had on a set of large hiking boots and a pair of leather gloves. Across her chest was the visible strap of a rucksack and she had neck-long black/brown hair.

“So you’re the one?” She asked simply.

“Yeah I am.” Toby said in an almost sullen manner.

“Thank you.” She said as she sat down beside him.

“No problem.” Toby said with the same sullen tone.

“You don’t seem so coy.” Emily said almost sarcastically.

“The first man I shot, the detail of the ring…” Toby faded off as he looked to his rifle.

Emily nodded as she sat down beside him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He pulled down the cloak’s hood and sighed as he looked up. It was then that Emily pulled out a green and white packet which Toby almost immediately recognized as a pack of cigarettes. Emily pulled two out and handed one over to Toby. Toby gratefully took the cigarette and it was soon lit by Emily.

He nodded his thanks as he took a long, hard drag on the cigarette and coughed as he blew it out. Seconds seemed to take minutes, minutes take hours, and it continued on as they both sat there quietly next to Toby’s tent. It seemed to take hours before Emily finally stood up and turned to walk away. Before she did she turned around to speak.

“We’re planning a raid on a Soviet motor pool tomorrow.” Emily said casually.

She walked away as Toby climbed in to his tent and he laid down on the sheet and stone cold pillow that was to act as his bed. He turned off the lamp beside the pillow and set his rifle beside him. He lay flat on the sheet and closed his eyes. The faces kept playing through his mind until he fell asleep.

Half a mile outside Des Moines…

A man in a Soviet officer’s uniform and personal jackboots walked across the rather unkempt grass next to the road. Three soldiers who were manning a gate post to the Soviet camp saluted and opened it for him. He walked through and made his way through the camp to the commander’s tent…

Major General Ivanhoe Solovyov sat at his desk, looking over a map of central Iowa. He was busily jotting down notes on various sections and troop movements until one of his assistants came in “Sir, Colonel Pavlik Smirnov is here to see you.” Ivanhoe looked up. He couldn’t believe it. Someone so notable was coming to his camp to aid him? He didn’t believe it until the Colonel walked in to the tent.

“I…did not expect someone so – prestigious.” Ivanhoe said in a slow and shocked tone.

“It is of no small matter that I come.” Pavlik said in a cold and crisp military tone.

“What might that matter be?” Ivanhoe was now curious as to Pavlik’s intentions.

“Your army is not at its best correct?” Pavlik asked as he walked over to the map.

“Their snipers are a thorn in my sides and besides that…” Ivanhoe was interrupted.

“The sewer system problem, I know.” Pavlik said.

Pavlik looked over the map, putting his finger on various points and mentally jotting them down. As both men stood in silence another assistant came in with a tray that held a bottle of vodka and two small glasses. The assistant set the tray down next to the map and walked out.

“What do you suggest?” Ivanhoe asked, breaking the silence.

“There is a new sniper of their’s who helped liberate their leader.” Pavlik explained.

“…and?” Ivanhoe asked as he poured himself a glass of vodka.

“He shows promise so I am to eliminate him.” Pavlik said as he looked up from the map.

“I see; well feel free to use any of my supplies you require Colonel.” Ivanhoe said.

“Thank you, sir.” Pavlik said, ending the conversation.

Pavlik walked out of the tent and was lead out of the camp with the excuse that he wished to have some time to stretch his legs. With that he went down the road alone. He made his way to the edge of Des Moines and dissapeared in to the night as it seemed. Nobody, not even a single Soviet soldier, saw him.

The next morning…

Toby sat on a small crate as Emily paced in front of him on the other side of a barrel which held another version of the map of Des Moines with the markings and the gas station marked off with a check mark. Emily brushed her chin as if she were worried about something. Two other Freedom Fighters were on the other side of the barrel were joking around and flirting with each other.

“Toby, as a sniper you know you’ll take risks.” Emily said expectantly yet worried.

“Yeah, I do.” Toby said in a tone that was meant to hurry her up.

“Well we need you to scout ahead of the main attack group.” Emily said simply.

“Okay, so?” Toby asked, thinking something was up.

“You won’t be alone though, this is your backup team.” Emily said as she looked back.

As if by some telepathic message, the two stopped flirting and stepped forward to show themselves. The man was dressed in a similar outfit to Toby’s but wore an Ushanka hat with the red star on the front scratched off of the material. He had shaggy black hair and the start of a mustache and his eager blue eyes made him seem a lot younger than the teenager he probably was.

The girl was dressed like Toby but instead of gray wore dark brown cloth and had a purple bandana that was partially covered by a gray dew-rag. She had her blonde hair tied in a short pony tail and her skin seemed white as snow. Besides that she looked like an average teenage girl with jade green eyes filled with excitement from what she thought would probably happen.

“I am Matthew Taylors.” The young boy said in a surprisingly happy tone.

“I am Maggie Sandquist.” The young girl said with a small smile.

“They’ll follow you and have to obey your every order.” Emily said.

“Fine, follow me.” Toby said as he stood up and grabbed his M40.

The trio made their way to the raft and they piled on, the usual rower having been replaced with a young Asian man. The man stayed silent as he rowed and Matthew kept flirting with Maggie. Toby pulled out a single cigarette and lit it up to relax as they moved through the water.

Hour and a half later…

The trio moved through the rubble-strewn street in silence, Matthew in the lead. Matthew was leading them to what he thought was a good point to have as a fall-back position. It was a downed America fighter with a miniature ‘trench’ under one of the wings that had good cover and a good view down the street to fire on any approaching enemies. It was in between a twelve story apartment building and a four story shop.

When the three reached it, Toby took control once more “Alright Matt, you stay here and cover us while me and Maggie move to the apartment.” Matt nodded in understanding and the two took off with their hoods up for better camouflage. Matt reached under his cloak and pulled out a small roll. He tore a piece of and slowly started to chew until he swore he saw something.

A flash, like a scope’s, coming from the fifth floor of the apartment. He slowly put the roll away and picked up his rifle. His rifle was a beautiful VSK-94 sniper rifle with a brand new scope he had stolen from a Russian supply truck without ever being spotted when he had. Little did he know that as he peered through the scope to the inside, that another scope rested on him. The scope shattered and his blood sprayed back…

Toby stood by the hole in the wall as Maggie came up from checking the immediate area. Toby motioned Maggie with his head and she took point, both of them heading through the hole and on to the stair case. They made their way up five flights of stairs to the fifth floor. The fifth floor was where the workers slept and the sixth floor was maintenance and where one could walk on to the larger overhead lighting.

Both of them moved through the darkness until they reached a large couch and pillar. Right beside the couch was a large stone pillar and across from those two was a window that showed the street. In front of the window was a dead Russian sniper who had no rifle. Toby once more took the lead and stopped by the pillar when his feet kicked something. He looked down at the item.

It was a pack of cigarettes, fresh and unstained. He picked it up and noticed only one cigarette missing. He looked up from the pack but didn’t look to Maggie “Somebody’s here.” Toby said calmly. With that Maggie ducked below the couch and pressed herself down tight to the floor. Toby hid himself behind the pillar as he checked his rifle to make sure a round was chambered.

He was just about ready to whirl around and pop a shot in to the nearest shadow until a high whaling became audible. He looked up from his rifle in wide-eyed shock at the sight of ten Russian fighter-bombers. They were all dropping one bomb after another with a thundering bang! Both Toby and Maggie froze.

“Oh my god…” Maggie barely edged for an end of the couch.

“Maggie, don’t move.” Toby said as the bombers go closer.

“Jesus…” Maggie edged a bit more.

“Maggie, don’t move!” Toby said commandingly as the planes got closer.

“They’re headed right for us!” Maggie edged again.

“Maggie, don’t move!” Toby now had to shout over the bombs as one hit a nearby store.

“Fck that, I’m going.” Maggie said.

Toby made a move to dive for her but he was too late. As she was halfway to the stairwell, a gunshot rang out. The right side of her dew-rag and bandana were torn up as her blood coated that side of her face and she crumpled over in mid-stride. Toby let his head go limp as the planes passed by, that being their last bombs…

Pavlik smiled as the girl crumpled over. He raised himself in to a crouch on the sixth floor cat-walk and made his way to the stairwell. From there he walked out of the hole in the wall. He turned in the direction of nearest Soviet camp. A smile graced his lips as he slung his rifle on to his back and walked past the shot down plane…

An hour and a half later…

Emil stood across from Toby once more but this time a dead silence hung over them. Toby set his rifle down beside the crate which he sat on as he rubbed his eyes. His head was drooped as Emily took a drag on an already partially gone cigarette. Both were down-trodden. The assault on the motor pool had been a slaughter house and besides that, the Resistance had just lost two good snipers.

“They’re both dead because of me.” Toby said in a cold tone as he shook his head.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Emily said, trying to support him.

“No, it was my mistake in the position planning.” Toby said.

With those three sentences the conversation was now over and Toby made his way to the tent that he had to call home. He made his way to the tent in silence and slowly climbed in. Once more, he set his rifle beside his bed, turned off the lamp and laid down. His eyes stayed wide open as the images of that day flashed in his mind. After what must have been a whole hour, he finally went to sleep.

Don’t worry, I’m not just going for the ‘solo sniper’. I have something planned for the next chapter.