The Next Global Conflict

"The attack is in motion. The Americans are going to have no idea whats happening. Ranting about "democracy" and "resistance", don't they know the Russian juggernaut is unstoppable?"

- General Yuri Kradjevski

Day 1
Date: Day 1, 2016

Location: 30 miles south of Pittsburgh

The Harrier hovered over the forests of southern Pennsylvania. It was camoflauged, covered in dark black, to hide in the dark sky. This was a stealth mission, so no mistakes were allowed. "Delta 6, you are clear to move north over," said Major Johnson, the co-pilot of the Harrier.

"Roger that," replied Delta 6, aka Cpt. Smith, the leader of the mission. "Squad, move forward," he told his small squad. The squad walked carefully through the forest, carefully checking for any enemies. "Harrier, do you see anything?"

"Up ahead is the crash site. I don't see any Russians there yet, but there going to show up soon. Better hurry though." "Alright, squad on me!" The squad moved on a slight jog to the crash site. General Marshall told them that the plane possibly carried WMDs, and was heading to the warzone at Pittsburgh. Smith's job was to recover it.

The squad reached the plane. It had crashed over a river. Parts of it were burning, but the entry way looked pretty fine to Smith. The squad entered, Smith in the leader. "Squad, check those corners and move carefully." Smith wanted no mistakes, especially with a fire hazard. Smith turned on his flashlight. The indside was messy, with crates and barrels knocked over, documents scattered, weapons flung here and there. They came to the cargo hold. "Jackpot," Smith exclaimed. There were three rockets, lined up side by side. They seemed to let off and omninous sense to Smith. "Gomez, take some photos of the missiles. Hunter, record any information you can find on the rockets." Gomez and Hunter scurried to their positions.

"Delta 6, I'm picking up sings of en-" Johson began to speak, but his sentence ended in static. "Harrier, what's wrong?" Smith radioed Johnson. "My screen's jammed. Can't see anything. We're blind. Before the jam, we picked up-.oh, FUCK!" Smith didn't need to ask what. Two rockets headed in the Harrier's direction. Flares were deployed, but only caugfht one. The other exploded on the Harrier's underside. A bright explosion filled the sky, and bits of the Harrier fell into the forest below. "Poor Johnson," Smith though. All of a sudden, bullets came in the direction of the plane. "Squad, contact!" Smith yellled.

The two sides began to fire at each other. It became obvious that despite the superior markmanship of Smith's squad, the Russians were going to overpower them. "Hold em off, I'm gonna defuse these bombs," Smith commanded. Smith ran over to the rockets and began to defuse them. He defused to and then looked over to his squad. All of them were dead, and Russians were entering the plane. Smith had no other choice. He set a timer on the last rocket, and opened a trapdoor that led to the river. He jumped in and locked it just as the Russians entered the cargo hold. He put his hands to his ears.

A spectacular explosion rocked the entire plane. Bits flew in all directions, and all the ammunition exploded as well, created another explosion. The Russians surrounding the plane were all dead. Smith, only by a small a chance, was alive. He began to swim around sunken parts of the plane. After swimming away from the wreckage, well the wreckage of the wreckage, he spoke into his radio.

"Marshall this is Delta 6. Mission somewhat successful.Gonna need a ride outta here though."

==Day 2&nbsp ==