In the late hours of the night the city of Peshawar was lit by streetlights, billboards, and burning flames. Before Pakistan had the chance to announce their "partnership" with the United States, widespread protests broke out around the country to shed the Islamic nation from any pro-western propaganda.
In between these protests did criminals gain their chance to wreak havoc upon the cities and towns. Many stores were looted, and territories were quietly established by local triggermen, terrorists, and gangs. Even by the time where JSOC sent in special operation units to extract high valued individuals, parts of Peshawar had been turned into "dead zones" as labeled by USSOCOM.
It was in one of the may dead zones did the three vehicles enter. Randall and his team were cooperating with Sergeant Malkovich's fireteam as they prepared to oversee the mission to kill or capture target Brutus.
"C'mon! We need to be in position in two hours." Captain Thompson said in a hushed voice as the ten-man squadron moved to several high-rise apartments that were still intact.
Though under the cover of darkness, the bright light of the moon illuminated the streets. Not even a well prepared, well-armored soldier would even dare to travers in such an environment, less he wanted to be shot. To even speak in the ghost-town like district they were in was a significant risk to breaching operational security.
Being second in the line moving down the sidewalk just behind Private First Class Simon, Sergeant Randall kept quiet as he held his M-5 in the low-ready. His eyes repeatedly flashed to the alleyways they passed by; with each one empty and seemingly abandoned, a fear-driven feeling swept over his body as they closed in on the fourteen-story apartment building less than four blocks away.
Stepping over pieces of rubble, his boots crunched against the dirtied streets. In a similar manner, the other ten walked along the sidewalks attempting to make a minimal amount of noise. Only the rare misstep from a piece of debris that was hidden in the darkness made the men react in a hostile manner.
Their fields of view were limited by the googles they had on; their white phosphorous vision made it impossible to discern the colors of the night.
Approaching the entrance of the apartment building the men fanned out, but still remained close together.
"Clear the main foyer." Captain Thompson ordered as he fell behind Corporal Ramirez in the formation.
With PFC Green to his right and PFC Simon on his left, Randall spearheaded the entry and led the three through the main entrance of the apartment building. Their goggles highlighted the dark room, but with their handy infrared flashlights mounted to their rifles, no corner was unchecked as the ten poured inside.
"Emergency staircase left of the elevators." Corporal Richard announced this as the men began to close on the left side of the building.
"Check the alarm, then we're going up." Thompson responded as he silently gestured for Patterson and Malkovich to cover him.
Removing the panel on the alarm just above the door, Richard checked on the wires while the rest waited anxiously.
"It's clear. Someone already cut it." Richard said in a sharp voice as he readied himself to open the door.
"That's worrisome." Malkovich said coolly.
"Shut it. Stack and ascend." Patterson quipped while falling behind Randall.
With Private Jackson at the front, the ten-man squadron began to slowly ascend the fourteen-story building only stopping on each floor to clear each apartment.
Each room cleared, each floor reached, the stress and constant pressure made Randall both weak an exhausted by the time they reached the designated spot they were assigned. Weapons raised and sights dialed in, Randall led the final push into the room that had been selected by reconnaissance for their current mission.
Such a room Randall and the others found themselves in was a luxury apartment that was formerly under construction. Tools were strung about the site, and the room was barren due to the project being abandoned during the initial hours of the mass protests that spread the city of Peshawar.
With the search complete, Randall stood alone in the center of the room. He gazed out the large window frames that were supposed to hold glass panes to protect the residents from the elements. Around him the Rangers got to work setting up observation devices: binoculars, cameras, and recon drone beacons.
"You should set up then get some sleep Randall. Team two is currently on watch right now."
Turning around to the person that had addressed him, Randall saw Sergeant Malkovich walking up to him while providing a small wave.
"Uh-yeah, sounds good." Randall said as he turned off his goggles and gently took them off.
A subdued thunder came from the other side of the city and a bright orange-yellow fire ball grew and faded.
"Someone should tell the air force to fuck off during ops." Malkovich said frustrated while rubbing his stubble.
"Well, we still need them." Randall countered gaining a chuckle from his fellow Sergeant.
"You may be right, but-you know what I mean."
As Malkovich walked off, Randall found a small wall near the windows. He hid around the corner and secured his assault pack. His mind drifted of once more for the night as his vision blacked out hiding the city lights, and bright fireballs.