World War 3: The Hit on The Innocent

World War 3: The Hit on The Innocent is my first story that is a sequel of an existing story (that is saved on my computer). There will be Call of Duty stuff, but there will be other stuff too...and the Call of Duty guys\guys from other media will be playing other characters either purely fictional, celebrities playing as other fictional people, or fictionalized versions of real people.

The basics
I'll be doing some Call of Duty-ish stuff, but I'll change stuff around (like ODIN Space Station will instead be ASGARD Space Station) and re-create certain events in the Call of Duty universe, but with twists. Overall, this is supposed to be a fanfic of multiple Call of Duty games under a non-Call of Duty title. Like I said before, this is my first attempt at a story, so please don't say anything insulting or offensive to my rookie writing skills.

Stuff




Cast of characters

 * Chris Saunders as Stitch
 * Cheyenne Jackson as Donald Coonz
 * Abigail Breslin as Olivia Coonz\Lindsey Benson
 * Josh Hutcherson as Sam Coonz
 * Elle Fanning as Ella Coonz
 * John Price as himself
 * John "Soap" MacTavish as himself
 * Chang Wei as Chang Jing
 * Diego Almagro as himself
 * Khaled Al-Assad as himself
 * Vladimir Makarov as himself
 * Viktor Reznov as himself
 * David Mason as Mason Davidson
 * Mike Harper as Harper Michaels
 * Gaz as Doug Harris
 * Lydia Young as herself (under alias Eleanor Stein)
 * Madison Young as herself (under alias Bella Atkin)
 * Victor Ramos as Guillermo "Guy" Villafranca
 * Gabriel Rorke as himself
 * Alex Mason as himself
 * Logan Lerman as Logan Walker
 * Mark Ruffalo as David "Hesh" Walker
 * Alex "Ajax" Johnson as William Hoving
 * Audrey Hoving as herself
 * Jennifer Hawkins as Sadye Weible
 * Solomon as himself
 * Dimitri Makaykovsky as Dima Raskov
 * Nikolai as Yuri Gavrilov
 * Raul Menendez as Gabriel Santos
 * Premier Chen as Hai Bao
 * Alexandra Daddarioas herself
 * Olivia Thrilby as Jessica Reel
 * Kevin Spacey as Will Robie
 * Javier Salazar as Guillermo's cousin
 * DeFalco as MI6 director
 * Richard Armitage as MI5 director
 * Tommy Cheng as himself
 * Teresita Killmade as herself
 * Olivia Wilde  as Lexy Mae Kuper
 * Jeremy Renner as Aaron Cross\Kenneth Kistrom
 * Mark Walhberg as Jason Bourne
 * Edward Norton as General Shepherd
 * Omar Berdouni as Mohammed Atta
 * Garrison as Korey Hogan
 * Frank Woods  as himself
 * Amir Kaffarov as himself
 * Kyle Chandler as Sandman
 * Michael Kelly as Dylan Windes
 * Matthew "Trex" Trexler as Henry Blackburn
 * Hannah Blackmur as herself
 * Sergei Kozin as Sergei Kamov
 * Anna Teague as herself.
 * Ben Hoving as himself
 * Luke Knudsvig as himself
 * Kiefer Sutherland as Jack Bauer
 * Sam Kuper as himself
 * Matthew Merchant as himself
 * Nikita Dragovich as himself
 * Alexandra Maria Lara as Samantha Kayser
 * Tereza Sbrova as Gaylina Raskova (Lev's long-lost sister)
 * Kenneth Branagh as Howard Stivey
 * Richard Armitage as Preston Alderidge
 * Logan T. Walker as himself
 * Brian Bloom as Kiril Kirilenko
 * Ilia Volok as Vladimir Kamarivsky
 * Mark Ivanir as Solomon
 * Faruk Al-Bashir as himself
 * ISI Leader as himself
 * Matthew West as Peter Newman
 * Brittany Nicole Waddell as Rachel Newman
 * Morgan Lily as Kyra Sheridan
 * David Montes as himself
 * Rachel Weisz as Moriah Vandermark
 * Jake Gyllenhaal as Jack Reacher
 * Stephanie Leonidas as Dyan Rotem
 * Ludi Boeken as Ze'ev Rotem
 * Cobie Smulders as Olivia Benson
 * Kelli Giddish as Amanda Rollins
 * Nick Stahl as Elliot Stabler
 * Broc Davis as T-1000
 * Lewis Alsamari as Farid
 * Khalid Abdalla as Khalid Sheikh Mohammed
 * Ray Stevenson as Frank Castle\The Punisher
 * Yuri as Yuri Gavrilov
 * Nikolai as Lev Raskov
 * Orla Brady as Katie Dartmouth
 * MeKenna Weida as herself.
 * Tom Cruise as Elias T. Walker
 * Logan Lerman as Logan Walker
 * Zachary Levi as Chuck Bartowski
 * Yvonne Strahovski as Sarah Walker (Logan's long-lost sister)
 * Pablo Schreiber as William Lewis
 * Kamar de los Reyes as Raul Menendez
 * Nour El-Refai as Sabina Andersson

Factions

Allied

 * Team Misfit\Slayerz\ATLAS Corporation
 * Shadow Force
 * Cordis Die
 * Iron Hand (led by Elanya Niermeyer)
 * United States Army
 * United States Marine Corps
 * US Air Force
 * MI5
 * MI6
 * Israel Defense Forces
 * Special Air Service
 * Central Intelligence Agency
 * Russian Ground Forces
 * People's Liberation Army
 * GRU
 * Mercs

Enemy

 * Iron Hand (led by Ben Hoving; during the Communist Federation portion of the storyline)
 * Muhammad's Army
 * African Militia
 * People's Liberation Army (Chang Jing's Communists)
 * Nazi Federation (Federation of Nazism)
 * Inter-Services Intelligence
 * Nazi commandos
 * Nazi prison guards (Riot Control Troops)
 * Nazi Special Forces
 * Nazi Space Marines
 * Nazi Dog-Tanks

Random stuff




Soundtrack
Main article: World War 3: The Hit on The Innocent Official Soundtrack

The soundtrack for World War 3: The Hit on The Innocent, comprises of themes from other video games and\or movies, which either fit the mood of the scene or the personalities of the major characters.

Prologue: The Coming Night
Lake Zurich, Switzerland

May 21, 2027

Michael Tobben



The crowd was gathered in what I thought was a huge mob on the shores of Lake Zurich, Switzerland. It was the safest place to hold a huge rally, and far enough from the encroaching Iron Hand soldiers to be noticed. As I stood on a floating stage, I tapped the microphone and said into it, "The more things change, the more they tend to stay the same.  Boundaries shift, new players step in; but power always finds a place to rest his head.  We fought and bled alongside the Iron Hand and we should've known beforehand that they'd hate us for that.

"History is written by the victor, and here we all are, thinking that we'd won.  But you bring down the first bad guy and they find someonbe even worse to replace him.  Locations, the rationale, and the objectives...they all change.  Yesterday's enemies become today's recruits.

"Train them to fight alongside you and pray they don't eventually decide to hate you for it too."

A bunch of "Amen"s came from the crowd and many of them even raised their fists. So I took a deep breath and said, "Today, the war for our freedom against Luke Knudsvig's treachery begins!  LONG LIVE FREEDOM!!!"

Everyone knew what I meant, and I knew that we were going to have a long fight ahead of us.

 Rise to Power 

 Chapter 1: The babysitters, the monsters, and the sympathetic

San Diego, California

May 21, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Teresita Killmade

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">My name is Teresita Reyes Gama Vasquez Killmade. I am fifteen years old (but I turn sixteen in a few months) and I've been going to Beverly Hills High School since the Freshman year. I'm Hispanic (yeah, no racist jokes, please), but I was adopted at age 5. If you want to know why I got so riled up and annoyed this morning, it was because my mother wanted me to babysit a five-year old Asian-American guy named Thomas Cheng, though everyone in the family called him Tommy. And it also seemed that the other guys in my neighborhood were pretty jealous of me because I got the job and they didn't.

<p style="text-align:left;">For example, take Olivia Coonz's brother, Sam. You know, the guy with the brown hair and the hazel eyes who always slicks his hair down with hair gel. When he first found out that I got a babysitting job, he went crazy. He told me things like, "Man, I wish I had a job"; "You make me jealous, TK"; and "When will I get a job like that?" To tell you the truth, I'd had it with that guy. If my mother was going to keep on insisting that I take the job (possibly because she thought I'd be good at it), then that meant I'd have to take the job anyway, whether I wanted it or not. But babysitting was the least of my worries.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 21, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">My name is Olivia Stanely Coonz. I've been rotting in this hellhole of a prison cell in the Mexican jungle for years. The Anarchists grabbed me two years ago, in 2025, during a reconaissance mission in the Gulf of California, and stuck me into this prison in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico (officially Anarchist territory) to rot for life, possibly because of my connections to people involved in the rescuing of Adrianne McNamara, the daughter of the US President, years prior. What happened was this: I was sent into the Gulf of California as an informant for the British intelligence agency MI5, which recruited me in the year 2022, two years after my mission in Switzerland. My first mission was to go into the Gulf of California and investigate a guy name Tariq Khan, who was apparently a friend of Luke Knudsvig. But someone on the inside betrayed me, and gave me away to the Mexican drug cartels loyal to Knudsvig. I suspected that Tariq alerted this "traitor" and tried to chase him down in order to prevent him from alerting more potential traitors, but then I was captured and sent to this prison, where I remained to this day.

<p style="text-align:left;">During my stay in prison, I was brutalized by Anarchist and cartel gunmen, most of whom had fun waterboarding me, beating me, and torturing me. But I didn't break; I never told the guards anything, no many how many times they burned me with red-hot iron sticks and threatened to cook me alive in a giant oven. But that wasn't the worst that I had to endure. The most extreme and worst form of torture happened today. And it all started when a bunch of evil-looking scientists walked into my cell, grabbed me and dragged me into a large operating theater with a bunch of scientists. I also saw a flat operating table with surgical instruments on a tray nearby.

<p style="text-align:left;">I began to scream. "No!  No, no, no!  Please!" Almost immediately, I began to hear people screaming around me as I was onto the table strapped down. I started sobbing. "What do you want?!  PLEASE!  Please don't hurt me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I heard and felt someone grabbing my hair. I looked up and saw a young woman-a German by the looks of it-about my age with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a lab coat and some kind of half-mask respirator, which looked kind of creepy. Her nametag identified her as Samantha Kayser. Right beside her was a guy. He had the same hairdo and hair color, only he had hazel eyes. This guy was apparently called Ayden Diepenbrock. Even he had a lab coat and a half-mask respirator.

<p style="text-align:left;">The minute I saw the two people, I was scared almost to death. A Russian guy suddenly appeared right next to the two Germans, a person in his fifties with a 6'5" frame, dark hair, and dark eyes.  I suddenly recognized him as Nikita Dragovich, the guy from Call of Duty: Black Ops.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Feeling okay?" he asked, smiling down at me. I started struggling against the bonds holding me to the table and screaming. In response, he slapped me across the cheek.

<p style="text-align:left;">I spat in his face. "Go rot in the underworld!" I blasted at him. "You planned this, didn't you!  You gave me up!  You exposed me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Dragovich laughed. "I did not expose you.  Tariq and I both exposed you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"No..." I gasped in realization as I suddenly came to the conclusion that he was right. "No, no, no, no!  No!  No, this can't be happening!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Dragovich kept on laughing and then gestured to one of his men, who looked down at me. "Don't make me hurt you!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"P-please!" I begged. "I'll do anything!  Just please don't kill me!  At least...at least let my parents know I'm alive!  Please!  They're worried sick about me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Your parents don't know you're here," said another voice. I turned to Dragovich's right and suddenly saw Alexandra Daddario, sneering at me. "No one knows you're here, in fact.  Not even your friends.  You'll rot in here.  Forever!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I sobbed. "No!  Please, guys, have mercy on me!  I'm just a girl!  You don't-you don't wanna do this to me!  It's not-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Not a good idea?" Dragovich joked. "I don't think so." Then he slapped me again and pulled out a roll of inky-black duct tape. "Not a good idea," he said, and then he ripped off a thick six-inch slab and plastered it over my mouth, ignoring my frantic cries. I started to sob and scream through the muzzle as Dragovich held me down, while nodding to his men.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Dr. Dipenbrock, I believe you have something to tell me." Dragovich smiled at the male German. "Tell me about this girl.  Has the operation suceeded?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Dr. Dipenbrock was silent for a few moments and then shook his head. "The subject has been sucessfully implanted with the knowledge to fight with her mind."

<p style="text-align:left;">"So, what is the problem?" demanded Dragovich. I whimpered through the tape as the German doctors looked at each other.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Uh, her responses to our orders have been-sporadic.  Unpredictable, to say the least," said Dr. Kayser. "She shows a remarkable resilience.  Something the other subjects do not have."

<p style="text-align:left;">I screamed through the tape at all these accusations the doctor was making against me. I wanted to yell and scream everything I had in my mind to say to these people, but the tape over my mouth muffled my cries. I started to sob; if Dragovich was true about what he said about my parents not knowing I was here in this hellhole, then I was indeed in trouble.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Why does she have this?" Dragovich looked hurt, angry, by what Dr. Kayser had said. "I need answers, Doctor Kayser!  Why does she have this?!?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"She is unusual...atypical." Dr. Kayser's voice took on a somewhat surprised tone. "Few prisoners-both male and female-possess such will...Our other test subjects have been far more sucessful."

<p style="text-align:left;">Dragovich looked at me, putting a hand over the tape covering my mouth and smothering it with his fingers. "Then we should try something that will lower her resistance, shall we not?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I sobbed through the tape, dreading what he meant. And then, Dragovich gestured to one of his men, who produced a syringe, loaded with a disgusting-looking red liquid. It looked like blood, but then again I couldn't tell what it was exactly.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Give her the other drug," said Dragovich. "The one that will lower the resistance of adamant prisoners.  If this one does not work, she is no use of me.  She can rot.  Inject the virus inside of her and take her back to her cell if her resistance intensifies."

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I screamed through the tape, though my words came out muffled. "No, no, no, no!" When the needle entered my skin and the plunger came down, I screamed bloody murder, thrashing violently against the table like a maddened animal demanding to be let loose. Dragovich and Daddario just looked at me, smiling. They looked like they wanted me to suffer like this, like they wanted me to enjoy this torture.

<p style="text-align:left;">When the red liquid disappeared from the syringe and entered my body, I began to scream even louder, struggle even harder. Daddario and Dragovich looked at each other, smiling. I looked at them and then, I stopped screaming and struggling.

<p style="text-align:left;">Dr. Kayser looked down at me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said apologetically. "I could not have had it any other way.  Please...accept my apology." I looked into the woman's eyes, suddenly getting the feeling that this doctor was a little more humane than the other guy, that she secretly hated her job and wanted to save me in any way that I could.

<p style="text-align:left;">Dragovich looked at Daddario and said, "Let us leave her...for now.  Doctors, if you excuse us..."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Not at all," said Dr. Diepenbrock. "In fact, I need a break too.  Samantha..."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I will stay with her," Dr. Kayser said, stroking my hair. "She is pretty, is she not?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"She will be even prettier when she becomes my personal slave!" laughed Dragovich as he headed out the door with Dr. Diepenbrock and Alex Daddario. I whimpered through the tape again, shaking my head desperately and begging with my eyes. I watched the other three captors leave the room before turning my attention to the sympathetic Dr. Kayser.

<p style="text-align:left;">Help me! My eyes begged. ''I need you! ''Dr. Kayser looked at me with a sad smile and then stroked my hair again. "He is a monster, isn't he?" She asked. I nodded, closing my eyes in horror as I replayed the torture in my head.

<p style="text-align:left;">She grabbed the edge of the tape and whispered, "Don't scream or I will put it back on to keep you from alerting the guards, okay?" I slowly nodded and Dr. Kayser slowly peeled it off. I let out a gasp, and then a sob jumped from my throat.

<p style="text-align:left;">"The pain...Oh my God..." I whimpered. "Doc...help me!  It hurts so bad!  My body...!  What did-what did they do to me?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They wanted to brainwash you," Dr. Kayser said soothingly, trying to avoid making me scream in terror again. "They wanted to turn you against your own country, make you an enemy of your people.  They wanted you to become one of them, become a traitor and give the United States a reason to kill you."

<p style="text-align:left;">I sobbed again. "Can you help me?  I mean, you said yourself that Dragovich was a monster."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I cannot do much right now," said Dr. Kayser. "I'm sorry, Miss Coonz."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Please...call me Olivia." I said quietly, managing a weak smile before crying again. "Can you help me?  Please...I want to go home.  I want to see my family again.  Please help me."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm sorry, but I can't." The doctor looked at me apologetically, as if she dreaded what she was going to tell me. And then, she abruptly changed the topic. "You miss your family, do you?  So do I.  I have been thinking about betraying Knudsvig, but I will be compromised that way, so I cannot.  Not now, anyway."

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded sadly. "Did Dragovich force you into the workforce?  Are you a doctor in real life?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No," said Kayser. And then she returned back to the topic I was getting her to listen to earlier. "Do you want me to help you?  Do you really want me to help you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded. "Please...if you can do anything, anything at all, I'll appreciate it.  Will you tell my family I'm okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I could get into a lot of trouble for this," said Kayser. Then she muttered something in German before switching back to English. "I don't know about this..."

<p style="text-align:left;">"At least please try," I begged. "If you can, at least please try to get me out of here.  I'll do anything to get out of here...please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">In response, Samantha pulled out another syringe, this one loaded with a powerful anesthesic. "I will see what I can do, but no promises."

<p style="text-align:left;">I smiled again as the needle entered my arm. Then Samantha stroked my hair again and smiled back at me. "In the meantime, do whatever you can to survive this ordeal.  I will help you in anyway I possibly can, but if I am caught, you are on your own, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I began tearing up again. "Thanks...thank you so much, doc."

<p style="text-align:left;">Then the drug entered my body and I fell asleep.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 21, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Lexy Kuper

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I was definitely not going to spend my time in the military being tortured for information by these jerks wanting to know what my mission was in Switzerland. Heck, I wasn't even involved  but apparently these guys thought I was, somehow. The guy who kept on dunking me in a tub of cold water-a Russian by the looks of it-said, "Where are the others?" I just stared at him blankly, but then my blank expression turned into that of anger.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm not giving you anything," I hissed between clenched teeth.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Well, that's too bad, then," said the unmistakable voice of Luke Knudsvig, who suddenly threw me to the ground.

<p style="text-align:left;">WHAM! His fist slammed right into my face and I was out cold.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 2: The Pill

<p style="text-align:center;">San Diego, California

<p style="text-align:center;">May 21, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Teresita Killmade

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Thomas Cheng, AKA Tommy, was a short, shrimpy little guy. At age 5, he seemed vulnerable, just like a child would be. His brown eyes, black hair, and olive skin told me that clearly this kid was an Asian. Tommy's mother, Sherri, was-just like my mother was-happy that I was going to babysit this guy for a few days while the Chengs went on vacation.

<p style="text-align:left;">The Chengs' residence in Beverly Hills looked a lot like my own; both had white walls and red brick roofs. But they had an even bigger swimming pool and an even bigger basement, which made me jealous. Apparently, the guy's room was medium sized and had a crib. The walls were all yellow(ish) and the paint looked all flaky and old. Attached to the crib was a note telling me of Tommy's schedule.

<p style="text-align:left;">He'd wake up at 7:00 AM and for breakfast, he'd want cereal with milk (the note didn't really specify what kind of cereal, but I was told he liked Cookie Crisps). From 8:00 A.M. until the afternoon, he'd have his freetime. Then he would have lunch and then he'd play around until the evening (unless he was so tired he needed a nap), and his bedtime was 9:30 P.M. My mother was talking with Mrs. Cheng and during this time, I took a good look at Tommy. He was apparently playing with some LEGO blocks and building what I thought was a helicopter.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, hi," I said awkwardly. "I'm Teresita.  Wow!  That's a nice helicopter!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Tommy looked up at me. "Thank you."

<p style="text-align:left;">The minute he said that, I wanted to hug him; the guy made me like my job because of the fact he was cute! I don't know why I even hated the job in the first place. As I hugged him, Tommy suddenly said, "Your house is far away?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at him awkardly again. "Um, yeah.  I live, like, six or seven minutes away from you, so it is pretty far."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh." Tommy smiled at me. Then he pointed at my mother, who looked more German than Hispanic (yeah, I was adopted by Germans). He took a moment to look at my mother's blonde hair, her weathered skin and her blue eyes. "Is that your mom?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes," I said quietly. "That's my Mom."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh." Tommy then lightly punched me in the elbow. "Are you going to visit?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, I'm actually going to babysit you, you know look after you, for a couple of weeks while your parents go on vacation, okay?" I smiled at him and Tommy, being the cute five year old he was, smiled back.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay," Tommy said, then lightly punched me in the elbow again. "Let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Go where?" I asked, watching Tommy running outside. I followed him. "Go where?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Go have fun!" Tommy squealed as he belly-flopped on the grass and stared up at the sky.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, okay," I said, turning to Mrs. Cheng, who was saying bye with my Mom and getting into her Toyota Sienna, which was apparently converted into the family's vacation vehicle. "I'm coming."

<p style="text-align:left;">Mrs. Cheng suddenly looked through the windshield at me. "Hey, Teresita!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I called out.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Make sure Tommy doesn't make a jerk out of himself while we're gone, okay?" Mrs. Cheng smiled at me. "He can be quite a crazy bud!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, okay," I said. "Bye!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Once the car was gone, Mom walked up to me. "Are you sure you have this under control?  I mean, he could-"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Mom, I'm fine,"  I said and then joined Tommy outside. "Tommy, I'm coming!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I ran outside, only to see Tommy running into the backyard. Following him there, I saw a large shed. And Tommy was pointing at it. He started screaming, "Look!" I joined him and stared at the shed, feeling a sudden weird temptation to go in there and see what was inside. I looked at Tommy, who was jumping up and down with delight. "I want to go in there!" he screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at him blankly. "What?" Then I looked at the building and shrugged. "Okay, fine.  Let's go in there."

<p style="text-align:left;">I followed Tommy inside the shed and found a whole lot of things, from garden tools to random garbage just lying around.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then Tommy saw something really attractive: an orange capsule.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, what's that?" he asked, pointing at the capsule and then running over to it and picking it up. "is this edible?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Tommy was pointing at a bunch of weird looking pills inside the capsule. He was apparently trying to make sure if it was edible. I wasn't so sure. "I wouldn't eat that if I were you."

<p style="text-align:left;">But Tommy was already picking up a glass of water. "I wonder if this is edible.  Can I eat it?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, I wouldn't eat that-" I began to say, only to see Tommy open up that thing and pop one of the pills into his mouth. "Tommy, NO!" I screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">But he'd already grabbed a water bottle and swallowed the whole thing down. "Tommy, you'll get sick!" I screamed. "We need to-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">My jaw hung open as Tommy suddenly began to feel dizzy. He started walking around in circles and then, after a little yawn, collapsed onto a dirty old mattress. "Oh, no!" I screamed, picking the little guy up. "Tommy!" I rushed him back to the house, then snatched my phone and was about to call 9-11, when Tommy suddenly awoke, sputtering and gasping, as if he was having a severe asthma attack. However, he calmed down later and looked at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hi, Teresita," he said, his voice unusually normal again. "Are you, um, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I froze; this guy suddenly began talking like an adult! And it was all because of that freaking pill! I dropped the phone. "How are you able to-?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What, that thing?" Tommy asked, jumping up in the air. "Oh, that's just some weird thing some jerk dropped!  Um, are you feeling okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're talking like an adult..." I stuttered.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then Tommy said, "What's an equation?"

<p style="text-align:left;">What the fudge? I thought. That pill gives five-year old kids the ability to think and act like adults?

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's an equation?" Tommy asked again.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Uh, an equation is...err, a set of mathematical symbols that represent a relationship," I stammered. "Uh, Tommy...how did that pill-?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, I don't know," said Tommy. And then he yawned again. "I'm getting tired.  Is it nap time yet?"

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 3: The craziest things are made possible by the weirdest people

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 21, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Coonz?" I heard a voice whispering near me. "Coonz...they say this is your name.  You know something about Knudsvig.  They know that you know something....about Knudsvig...about Daddario.  They know of your mission to rescue the President's daughter in Switzerland, which you undertook seven years ago." I groaned; the past few hours were spent enduring beatings, tasings, and pokes from red-hot iron sticks. My whole side was hurting and I felt like my insides were on fire.

<p style="text-align:left;">Literally on fire.

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAARGH!!  W-who are you?" I gasped painfully. "What's your name?...My side!  AAAGH!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I felt a hand on my throbbing shoulder and I winced in pain. "GAAH!-It hurts so much!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, it's okay," another voice said. "Olivia?  Olivia, can you hear me?  Are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Back off," said a third voice. "She's hurt.  Let me-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAGH!" I screamed and sobbed at the same time, feeling someone touching my throbbing leg. "My leg!  Whoever's doing that, please stop!  It hurts so much!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Another hand was on my back, and a voice said soothingly, "You're going to be all right, my friend."

<p style="text-align:left;">I opened my eyes, flinching in pain, and looked up at the person talking to me.

<p style="text-align:left;">The first person I saw was...VIKTOR REZNOV!

<p style="text-align:left;">No way, I thought. ''Either this guy walked through that time bridge, or he came back from the dead, or both! I thought he was dead!''

<p style="text-align:left;">"How long's she been in here?" asked none other than Frank Woods (who apparently also walked through the time bridge from Call of Duty: Black Ops and Black Ops II).

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked to the right of Frank and came face to face with another character, this one from a book written by the guy David Baldacci. To be honest, however, this guy looked more like the actor Jeremy Renner or something, because of his facial design, his hairdo, his voice.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Fudge," said Will. "She's too injured to help us out with our little revolt.  She'll hinder our escape!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Escape?" I asked through clenched teeth.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I thought you comrades remembered the plan," said the second voice. I turned and saw that it was none other than Tatiana Chirkova, AKA Emma Wideman. I recognized her because of the blue eyes and the blonde hairdo. "We grab any prisoners in the cell, including newcomers like her, and get out as a team."

<p style="text-align:left;">Woods swore. "That's a lousy plan. We're talking about the Anarchist army here. They come at you with brute force, which means strength in numbers and heavy armor. Are your men ready for that?  More importantly, is she ready for that?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ready for what?" I gasped through the pain. "Are you planning to break out."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, until the whore showed up.  That's you," hissed Woods, thrusting a finger at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey!" I gasp-barked. "Watch your language, you idiot!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Oh, stink, I thought. I crossed the line. Woods' face twisted into a fiery rage and he started yelling. "What did you call me?!" Suddenly, he threw a table and started advancing toward me like a raging bull. It made me shoot up out of the bed, ignoring the pain in my shoulder.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Woods!" screamed Will, but Woods threw him aside.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Did you call me an idiot?!  Huh?  Did you call me an idiot?!" Frank started throwing chairs and tables all over the place until he got to me. And then, he punched me right in the freakin' face!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Dirty whore!  Get up!  I said, get up!" The guy was on top of me, clobbering my face and body despite my already burning wounds. "Get up!" Woods hauled me to my feet, and that was when I gave him a piece of my mind.

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAAARGH!!!!" I screamed bloody murder, grabbed Woods and-with my awesomeness-lifted him five feet off the floor and slammed him into the back wall while holding his neck. "I could crush you, you hear me?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Stop it-!" Woods started choking, and the rest of the prison inmates in my cell looked at me with mixed expressions of surprise and disbelief.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I could CRUSH YOU!" I cried, and then threw him really hard to the floor across the room. The man's body slid across the floor and then stopped inches from the back wall, leaving the other prisoners flabbergasted and staring at each other-and eventually at me-with weird looks.

<p style="text-align:left;">There was about two minutes of silence before Will suddenly spoke up, "How in the blazes were you able to pull that off, kid?  You're only a teen, yet you threw him, like, five feet across the floor!  You could've killed him!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"The cocksucker almost broke my ribs!" Woods groaned on the floor.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Now we definitely need her!" said Reznov. "If she could do that to Woods, she could do that to anybody!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What about Luke?" said another voice-a Scottish one. I turned and saw none other than John "Soap" MacTavish emerging from the darkness. He'd apparently been watching the whole scene from behind the sidelines.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Soap, stay out of this, kid!" spat Woods, getting up while groaning in pain. "You got no part in this plan!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Actually, I do," Soap said, smiling. "And I think we have a way of getting our already-burnt rear ends out of here.  But we'll need her help."

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at Soap, gasping for breath (throwing a guy who is ten times heavier than you takes a lot of force, just so you know). "You need my help?  But you heard what the other guy said.  I could've killed him!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Exactly," said Soap. "With power like that, you could brutalize anyone.  Even that merchant banker Luke Knudsvig."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You sure?" I said, clutching my stomach in pain.

<p style="text-align:left;">Soap smiled. "Guarantee it, mate.  That evil merchant banker's days are numbered!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">San Diego, California

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Teresita Killmade

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">When I awoke the next morning, I heard a car horn beeping and Tommy Cheng laughing outside. I got up out of bed and after walking outside, I saw the little guy himself standing up with a pair of car keys in his hand. He'd apparently learned how to honk the horn on the car with his parents' keys!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, would you turn it down!" I heard someone-presumably a neighbor-screaming outside. "I'm trying to sleep!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Almost immediately, Tommy shut the horn off. I looked at Tommy. "How'd you do that?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, I tried the button with the horn on it and it worked," Tommy said, shrugging. "You don't want me pressing that button?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"You shouldn't do that!" I said exasperatedly. "C'mon.  Let's get you some breakfast."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay!" Tommy cried, putting the keys down on a table. "Let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">After pouring Tommy his Cookie Crisps with milk, I popped a waffle into the toaster and as I waited, I turned on the TV. I felt like it was the only way I could kill time while waiting for the waffles to get done. The first channel I came to was GNN (Global News Network), and the headlines on the news startled me.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I was soon staring at footage of what appeared to be people rioting in the streets of various cities in the Middle East and Northern Asia, carrying signs and chanting in foreign languages. The headlines read: WIDESPREAD RIOTS ACROSS THE MIDDLE EAST AND ASIA! The footage also showed people being gassed by cops and mass arrests occuring in various different countries in Southeast Asia, North Africa, and the Mediterrannean region of Europe.

<p style="text-align:left;">"...Now the mysterious Anarchist Coalition has crowdsourced numerous simultaneous protests and sparked violent riots in both the Middle East and Southern Asia..." The reporter droned on and on.

<p style="text-align:left;">What the fudge? I thought. Luke Knudsvig is rallying followers to rebel against their governments?

<p style="text-align:left;">"Never before seen in public, who really is the leader of the Anarchist Coalition?" the reporter kept on going. "He's just recently revelaed himself as Luke Knudsvig."

<p style="text-align:left;">''Luke Knudsvig? How'd he rally up that many followers in such a short itme period?''

<p style="text-align:left;">I heard the toaster ringing and shut off the TV to eat my breakfast. As I put syrup on my waffles, I began to think about Luke Knudsvig and how he was able to rally up two thirds of the world to his leadership. However he did it, he must've had help. Maybe he had a lot of ads that people just couldn't ignore?

<p style="text-align:left;">I had to admit that this was going to be one question that would stump me for a while.

<p style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 4: Plan of Retaliation
<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, my gosh!" I gasped after seeing a beat-up Lexy Mae Kuper being thrown into my cell one day later. Last night was torture because I had to listen to Lexy's tormented screams all night as the guards interrogated her endlessly. I overslept later in the night and woke up at 11:00 A.M. (and was beaten up by the guards for showing up late for work as a result). Now seeing her beat-up and bloody like this made me sick. Lexy had apparently been beaten so much that she'd broken a tooth, her nose was smashed, and her lower lip was swollen. Her eye was all black and blue and her dark blue jumpsuit was bloodied and riddled with holes. Her brown hair, normally tied back nicely, was all messy and matted with blood.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Lexy, what'd they do to you?" I cried.

<p style="text-align:left;">Lexy couldn't respond. She just groaned and moaned painfully as Viktor Reznov and Will Robie looked at her pitifully.

<p style="text-align:left;">"She looks even worse than you," remarked Viktor, looking at me and then at Lexy. "Are you all right, American?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAUGH!  My name is Lexy...!" My beat-up, tormented friend gasped in pain and then tried to get up, only to fall down screaming in pain. "Guys, a little help?!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Here," said Will, helping Lexy up and sitting her on the bunkbed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"T-thanks," she gasped painfully. "Ow!  My arm!  My side!  Everything...!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Lexy...you look like hammered crap," said Woods. "What'd they do to you, kid?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They beat me up, okay?" Lexy said between painful grimaces. "They beat me up for information." Then she looked at me. "Oh, my gosh!  Olivia, they did the same thing to you too?!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah," I admitted, hugging Lexy's fragile, wounded body. "But the good news is that someone has a plan to escape."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who does?" Lexy asked, almost on the verge of tears.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I do," Soap said, walking up to the two of us. "I'm John MacTavish, but please call me Soap.  And, err, I'm sorry for what happened to both of you girls."

<p style="text-align:left;">"T-thanks," Lexy said, holding Soap's hand with her own, scratched palm. "Um...I'm Lexy."

<p style="text-align:left;">Woods walked up to Lexy, his face showing disapproval at first, but then curiosity. "She's your friend?  How long have you two known each other?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Seven years," I said. "We've been friends for seven years."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I've known John Price longer than that," said Soap, looking at both of us. "You know John Price, right?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, yeah," said Lexy.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, Will Robie spoke up. "Okay, one of you guys tell me how this plan's gonna work again?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"We'll fake a brawl," said Viktor. "Miss Kuper, you might want to listen in on this if you want to join."

<p style="text-align:left;">Lexy nodded ethusiastically. "I'll do anything to get out of here.  Tell me what to do, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"First, take this," said Soap, plopping a little pill into her hand and putting a glass of water on a table. "It's a painkiller.  Lasts a whole day.  Even in your injured state, you can still fight."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Thanks." Lexy took the pill, popped it into her mouth and gulped down the glass of water ethusiastically. "I haven't had anything to drink in a long time.  My lip feels so dry..."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay, you guys fake a brawl," I said. "Any other ideas, guys?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I will fight you," said Viktor. "Well, the original plan was for Woods and I to argue and fight, but seeing that you have the potential to brutalize anyone, like Mr. Robie mentioned, I've changed it so that you are the one fighting me.  This is to attract the attention of the guards."

<p style="text-align:left;">"And?" Lexy asked ethusiastically.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You, Miss Coonz, will kill the guard that tries to attack me." Viktor continued. "And then I will showcase Step One."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step One?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">Viktor then directed my attention to a section of the wall, where someone had written on it.

<p style="text-align:left;">It looked like Russian graffiti, mixed with spraypaint or something.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I will translate," Viktor said, pointing to the wall. He then said while staring at the first Russian phrase on the wall, "Step One: Secure the keys.  When we secure the keys, we will unlock the other cells and allow our brothers and sisters to escape and fight the guards too."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I like the sound of that." Lexy began licking her lips, as if savoring the idea. She apparently wanted some hardcore payback for the abuse she and I both received during our years here.

<p style="text-align:left;">"That reminds me," said Soap. "Lexy, Olivia, do you have any other friends imprisoned in this facility, or is it just you two girls?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, there's another guy," said Lexy. "Sam Kuper.  He's my brother.  And he's only thirteen.  He and I were captured together."

<p style="text-align:left;">"And there's a girl," I said. "Madison Young, Cordis Die leader.  She, um, was captured trying to rescue me a few years ago.  Now she wants revenge because her own inmates kept telling her I was being abused frequently.  She doesn't know of the plan though."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You can tell her later," said Soap. "Anyway, Reznov, you were saying?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step Two," said Viktor, pointing at another Russian phrase. "Ascend from Darkness.  We go out and kill everyone in the prison to avenge our own dead, our own abused, our own tortured friends."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, yeah!" Lexy was beaming. "I love this plan!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step Three is Rain Fire," Reznov said, pointing at the third Russian phrase on the wall. "By that, we mean to burn the guards in their posts."

<p style="text-align:left;">"They have guard towers?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Soap nodded. "They have the towers posted all over the prison.  We must destroy them by burning them up, so that the prison will be blind in terms of overwatch."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay," I said. "What's Step Four?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Unleash the horde," Reznov said proudly. "We unleash the wrath of the entire prison upon the guards and destroy everything in our path.  Step Five is skewer the winged beast.  That means that we destroy any helicopters the guards use to take us down."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's Step Six?" asked Lexy, fighting the urge to run out and beat up every guard in the prison already. "What's Step Six?  I have to know Step Six!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step Six is to wield a 'fist of iron'," Soap said. "From what I've heard, I think it means we're supposed to fight with iron fists or something.  I may be wrong, though."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Actually," said Reznov. "You are right, my friend.  Wielding a fist of iron means to fight with an iron fist.  Well, that can also mean hijacking an armored vehicle and using it to fight the guards that way.  That's how the rest of the prisoners interpreted it when I first discussed this plan with them, but you can do whatever you can, as long as it involves iron."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You want us to fight the guards with materials made of iron?" asked Lexy. "Isn't that a little redundant.  I think it's the same as 'unleash the horde.'"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Well, the two steps can be combined," said Reznov. "As long as there are plenty of iron weapons lying around, you can use the two steps together."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's Step Seven?" I asked. "And is there a Step Eight?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, there is no Step Eight!" Reznov laughed. "There's only Step Seven: RAISE HELL!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Raise Hell!" Lexy cried. "Yeah!  I love it!  When are we doing this?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Tomorrow," said Soap. "Tomorrow morning, when the guards make us work to death like they always do in the morning."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But why can't we do it today?" asked Lexy, a bit disappointed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"It is too dangerous to do it now," said Reznov, patting Lexy on her good shoulder. "It is too dangerous.  The guards will surely overpower us.  The afternoons are when the security is heaviest."

<p style="text-align:left;">"And, um, what time is it now?" asked Lexy.

<p style="text-align:left;">"It is 12:44 P.M." Soap said. "Noon already.  You girls apparently overslept."

<p style="text-align:left;">"When's the next work shift?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"12:00 is when the prisoners one floor above us are rallied up so the guards can work them to death," said Reznov. "At 1:00 P.M. the prisoners below us start their brutal working shift.  At 2:00 P.M. it is our turn."

<p style="text-align:left;">"They divide the work by time?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes," said Reznov. "And the good thing about that was that it gave us plently of time to discuss our escape conspiracy."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Do we do it first thing when we get up?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, we're doing it as we're getting up for work," said Soap. "Our shift starts first thing in the morning, as you girls already know.  The next shift starts at noon and the last shift-and the most brutal shift-is during hte evening."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Lexy took a deep breath. "If anyone else comes in before that day, are we allowed to invite them into our little escape group."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Of course, comrade!" Viktor laughed. "The more, the better!  We need as many people-both veteran prisoners and fresh newcomers-as possible to build this army.  Half of the prison is already riled up because of it.  I managed to keep everyone's spirits up today because of the plan."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I took a deep breath. "I hope to God this works." I looked around at Reznov, Soap, Woods, Robie, and Wideman\Chirkova. She was apparently smiling because she liked my ethusiasm about the plan to escape. I was willing to do anything to get out of here in one piece and I could tell Emma wanted the same exact thing.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wait," spoke up Lexy. "Who is going to lead this whole army?  You?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I will lead the Russian prisoners," said Reznov. "Sergei Kamov, who has been in this prison longer than all of us, will help me."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who's Sergei?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I am!" cried a booming voice. I turned and saw an enormous guy in his thirties with big muscles and a formidable 6'6" frame with a shaven face. He walked up to me, and then looked at Lexy with the look of ferocity, which sacred us girls.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't hurt us!" Lexy begged. "Please!  Don't hurt us!  We're with you!  Okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"You do not need to fear him," said Reznov. "He is normally a kind-hearted person, even friendly.  Especially to Americans like you.  He only brutalizes those whom he deems deserve punishment.  Like the guards here in Mexico!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I gave a sigh of relief. "Thanks, um, Sergei."

<p style="text-align:left;">"My real name is Sergei Abramovitch Kamov, but you can call me Sergei." The guy's tone took on a friendlier tone this time as he spoke to us both. "I am, according to most people, the Russian Monster of Moscow.  I have beaten many enemies of various nationalities, but I never brutalize civilians.  Or children, like you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, we're teenagers," said Lexy. "College students, acutally.  We're both eighteen."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hmm.  I am twenty-seven," Sergei said.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Reznov told us you were serving here longer than any of us.  Is this true?" I gave him a skeptical look.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Da, this is true." Sergei smiled. "I know the brutality of the guards.  I even almost lost a close friend of mine at their hands."

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly got sympathetic. "I'm sorry.  Were you and this guy close?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Sergei nodded. "And you, Miss Lexy Kuper, may know this boy.  In fact, he tells me you are his sister."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Sam Kuper?" she asked, suddenly concerned. "You know what those guys did to him?  You saw him suffer at their hands?  Is he okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Sergei nodded. "They treated him like dirt.  Like an animal.  One of them tried to beat him to death with sticks and fists, but I was quick to defend him."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You looked after him for me?" Lexy began to tear up again. "You protected him for me?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Da," said Sergei. "I treated him like he was my own son."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Whoa!" I cut him off. "Sorry for interrupting, but you have kids?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes.  My oldest son, Dima, was sent here at the same time as me.  We were both brutalized by the same Anarchist Coalition and, well, he is now dead."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Dead?" I asked. "They killed him?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes, for trying to instigate a riot," said Sergei. "Luckily, my youngest daughter, Katya, survived the ordeal.  She sucessfully escaped a day before you two Americans came here.  When did you get here?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, we first arrived on January 2, 2025," I said. "We were, um, sixteen years old.  High school kids, actually."

<p style="text-align:left;">"My family and I," Sergei continued. "We came two days before you.  When was your brother captured, Lexy?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They got him a day after us," said Lexy. "January 3, 2025.  When I first heard of incidents of prisoner abuse, I began to fear for Sam's life.  Then one of my inmates told me he was dead...!"

<p style="text-align:left;">She started to cry and Sergei hugged her. "Well, rest assured, American.  Sam is alive, and he wants to see you.  Well, he wanted to see you right after he heard from me about your arrival here on that day, January 2.  But I would not let him, for fear that he would be the next one to instigate a riot and go down like my son."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Thanks," Lexy said quietly as Sergei embraced her. "Thanks for protecting him, Sergei.  You're a good friend."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay, so you meet Sam, and you start to treat him like he was a family member of your own.  What then?" I asked, itching for more information about Sergei. I began to think that this guy could potentially be my sidekick, aside from Lexy that was.

<p style="text-align:left;">"When was the last time you defended him?" asked Lexy. "Did he survive another abusive guard?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Da," said Sergei. "Last week, one of the guards tried to kill Sam after he refused to work on the grounds of being tired, when he was really being outright defiant after the guards denied him permission to see you, Lexy.  The guards were about to beat him when I killed two of them.  As a result, I was put in solitary confinement for the rest of the week.  They just released me last night."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, any idea why Sam Kuper was itching to see me so much?" Lexy asked, now sitting on the bed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"He was probably freaking out because of your situation," Sergei answered. "But don't worry.  He is in good hands with the others.  I, um, left him with my other friends back in my own cell."

<p style="text-align:left;">"How'd you get here?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">Sergei didn't answer, so I just kept my mouth shut.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 5: We (accidentally) started World War III <p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">San Diego, California

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Teresita Killmade

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Tommy Cheng wanted to go to the San Diego Museum of Man or something, and apparently so did I. Being couped up in that house kind of bored me to death. Besides, I wanted something to read and look at instead of just sitting around and watching TV. The San Diego Museum of Man was located at 1350 El Prado, Balboa Park in San Diego, and getting there was easy, since the Chengs lived five minutes away from that place. In addition, I always wanted to visit the Museum of Man.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Once inside, Tommy and I started having a blast; we walked through the Footsteps of Time, which apparently displayed the replicas of skulls and reconstructions of early hominids, which apparently promoted human evolution (I thought the idea of humans evolving from monkeys is completely bogus). And then, we looked at Kumeyaay (ancient Native American tribe that apparently lived in Southern California) stuff, you know things about the Native American Kumeyaay tribe. Tommy apparently learned a bit about the ancestors of today's Californians.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">But Tommy was a little freaked out by the stuff about Ancient Egypt. Yeah, the stuff about mummies, funerary massks, and mummification kind of scared him. I think it was because of that movie starring Brendan Fraser where a mummy was resurrected. Either that, or he just heard scary stories about mummies or something.

<p style="text-align:left;">Anyway, we explored the San Diego Museum of Man and from there we went to the San Diego Aricraft Carrier Museum, which was apparently on the USS Midway itself. I had no idea how they converted a whole aircraft carrier into a museum, but I was amazed at the fact that they did it.

<p style="text-align:left;">The main exhibition area of the Midway was pretty cool. Tommy and I got to see airplanes and fighters from World War II and other conflicts in US history. I got to watch Tommy pretend to fly various airplanes from different eras in US history, from World War II to the Vietnam War.

<p style="text-align:left;">Soon after that, we went to eat lunch at Quiznos, right next door to my place.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, the weirdest thing happened: Tommy, being the curious five-year old kid genius, suddenly found something that caught his attention as he was scoping around for something to do after sitting at a table, eating his sandwich (he apparently ordered it himself with money from his own piggbank).

<p style="text-align:left;">But then I found out that it was something entirely different: it was a laptop! And Tommy apparently wanted to play with it.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, I don't think playing that laptop's a good idea," I said. "We should leave it." But then I looked at the screen and saw that Tommy was staring at the screen showing the whole world with green and red dots all over it. And the top left hand corner of that screen said, Property of L.K.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who is L.K., anyway?" Tommy asked, munching on his sandwich and savoring the juicy meat and tomatoes. "And why did he leave his video game here?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I don't know," I said, totally clueless as to what this laptop was doing here in Quiznos anyway.

<p style="text-align:left;">Tommy grabbed the little mouse and moved the cursor to one of the green circles, which was apparently sitting on top of the city of Mecca, Saudi Arabia (AKA the Holy City of Islam). Tommy looked at me and shouted, "Look at me!" Then he pressed the button.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Uh-oh," I gasped. "I think you just blew it up."

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, a bright red box filled the screen and then there came the words TARGET LOCKED! LASERS AWAY!

<p style="text-align:left;">"I destroyed Mecca with lasers?" Tommy gasped. "AWESOME!!  I LOVE THIS GAME!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The next dot he pressed was resting over the city of Hamburg, Germany. Once again, the words TARGET LOCKED! LASERS AWAY, appeared on the screen. Tommy started laughing. "Yes!  Goodbye, Hamburg!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BEEP! The next button he pressed was over the city of Luxembourg, Luxembourg. Another TARGET LOCKED! LASERS AWAY, message appeared on the screen. I was looking over Tommy's shoulder, sipping my Coca-Cola and watching him press random buttons selecting European and Middle Eastern cities and pressing FIRE, all while laughing like some gamer who knew what he was doing. It didn't feel real, the interface, the buttons, and all that.

<p style="text-align:left;">The next place Tommy toasted was Tehran, Iran's capital city. And after that Tommy blew up the city of Kandahar, Afghanistan. Later, he toasted some random place in the middle of the Sahara Desert in Egypt. However, pretty soon Tommy began blowing up random places instead of specific cities, ranging from a coal mine in a French forest, a part of the Empty Quarter in Saudi Arabia, and a random spot in the Gobi Desert, Mongolia.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, he saw the message LASERS HAVE OVERHEATED! CANNOT FIRE! I looked at him and then at the random numbers at the bottom of the screen, which got Tommy really excited.

<p style="text-align:left;">"YES!  I GOT A HIGH SCORE!" Tommy began laughing while pointing at the numbers. However, I realized that the numbers weren't part of a scorekeeping box. Rather, they were part of a DEATH TOLL! The numbers amounted up to 35 million estimated casualties. Tommy was apparently happy that he killed thirty-five million people in what he thought was a video game.

<p style="text-align:left;">In truth, I had no idea what this laptop was. But I had a feeling that I was about to find out soon.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 6: Extreme forms of aggression <p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Mexico City, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Gaylina Raskova

My name is Gaylina Ivanovsky Raskova. I am twenty-six years old and I'm an MI6 operative. Now, most people-especially the American Yanks-would joke about me and say that I'm too "smart" for the average spy. But let me tell you: that is wrong! I am Russian, true, but I ended up working for MI6 when I moved to London. Apparently my family was grieving my brother, Lev, who was reported MIA, or missing in action, although my aunt and uncle believed that he was dead. However, I knew what'd happened to him: he was on that mission two years ago, in 2025, with Olivia Coonz. Unfortunately, he was compromised and later captured by Mexican drug cartels and sent to the same prison camp that his American friends were now rotting in. But the surprising thing was that Olivia had no idea that Lev was in the same exact fudging prison as she was! Neither did Mason Davidson, Lev's other friend. I was dying to rescue him, because I felt like he was the only thing I had in the world-aside from Dima, of course.

MI6 was apparently planning a rescue op for months. I was told today that they'd reached a decision. I was going in! Last week, I was sent into Mexico, but intelligence was slow and that meant I had to wait a whole week to rescue my brother. Now, I was really excited because intelligence finally came through. And to make things better, the intelligence was verified correct!

My colleague, fifty-eight year old Howard Stivey, was looking upon me today with a smile. He was apparently happy about something and I had no idea what it was. I had a feeling he was going to tell me about a mission to rescue my brother, but I chose not to ask him.

Not yet anyway.

My handler, forty-six year old Preston Alderidge, entered the room after Howard. The man looked fierce, with a dark-colored hairdo and hazel eyes, as well as a pretty intimidating 6'4" frame.  He looked like he could easily strangle me to death, given his muscular appearance.

"Is this about my brother, Mr. Alderidge?" I asked meekly. "I mean, it has been days, no?  And Lev-he is still in captivity.  Shouldn't we rescue him?"

"Yes, I believe so, but first let's think about something." Preston unfolded a map and laid it out on the table before us all. The map apparently showed the prison, and it had arrows moving toward various different sides of the place. Preston pointed at one part of the prison, the part where there was a guard tower to the right, which he circled with a blue Sharpie. "This guard tower's active all night, but the guards take shifts.  The one on the left, which you see here..." He circled the one to the left. "This one is unguarded."

Then he started pointing at different spots inside the prison facility, located on the second floor, and circling them. "These cells hold the members of Olivia Coonz's assault team." He said. "But the prison has a security system that people claim to be foolproof.  Our tech guys claim to have discovered a weakness in the system, but we are not sure if it will actually give us an advantage."

"What's the weakness?" asked Howard.

"The prison's automated security systems can be shut down with a virus.  I've had the Israel Defense Forces work together with our men to create a nasty bug.  But we don't want to create too much attention or we'll get Lev and his friends killed." As he was saying this, Preston looked concerned and so did I.

"I don't want anything that will get Lev killed," I said sharply. "I want him out and I want him out alive, sir."

"I know, which means we're going to have to go to plan B," said Preston. Then he used his Sharpie to draw a line from a hilltop to the left of the prison and drew an arrow pointing to the front entrance. "You, Mr. Stivey, will infiltrate the prison from this area and create a diversion for Miss Raskova.  She will then move in and take out all the guards in her way and get Lev out.  It's pretty easy and it looked appealing to the other guys in the SAS, who'll watch your backs out there in the field."

"And when are we doing this?" I asked. "At what time?"

"7:00 A.M. tomorrow," said Preston. "Seven o'clock sharp.  So I recommend going to bed early tonight, okay?"

"Um, yes sir." I smiled awkwardly. "Personally, I'd rather go to bed early than watch Lev die in prison."

Howard pat me on the back. "Don't worry, mate.  Your brother is a strong person.  I'm sure he can survive another night in that jail."

But as I walked into my quarters, I started to cry. I began to fear for Lev's safety, for the safety of his friends. I began to think that maybe my aunt and uncle were right, that Lev was already dead. But as much as I wanted to think about the possibility, I broke it off. I wanted to be strong.

For Lev, assuming he was alive.

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

Well, this was embarrasing. My buddies and I had been sedated and moved to a different room. No, this wasn't a room. This was a large chamber of some kind. The past ten hours were just pure horror. The guards came in, dragged a bunch of us from the cell-including Lexy, Viktor, Will, Sergei, and Dima, as well as Lexy's brother Sam Kuper-and dumped us into a large room. I had a gut feeling that this was another attempt to get information out of us. Another attempt to beat the information out of us.

I heard a couple of people yelling in Spanish and chains rattling, as well as Lexy whimpering as she was brought to the center of the room where the chains were. I saw handcuffs dangling from the ceiling, and a couple of chairs in the center of the room. Then the two of us girls screamed in pain as the Mexican gunmen and Anarchist guards shackled our wrists to the ceiling and slammed Dima, Sam, Will, Sergei, and Viktor into the chairs, their wrists tied behind them.

I yelped as I heard an abrupt scream from Lev, followed by a Mexican guy-a Latino in his thirties with dark hair and brown eyes-slapping Lev while screaming angrily, "What was your mission in Switzerland?!?"

"L-Lev Ivanovich...Raskov...!  Lieutenant...!" Lev rasped, only to scream when the Mexican slammed a taser into his ribcage. "AAARGH!"

I began tearing up. "Stop it!  Please...!  Don't kill him!"

The Mexican just looked up at us girls, now joined by a Chinese guy dude in his twenties with dark hair and brown eyes. "Won't you make me....Captain?" The man spat.

The Asian turned to Sam Kuper, holding a taser of his own. Lexy, sobbing her eyes out, cried, "Leave him alone, you sick dirtbag!"

"Make me, Captain!" The Asian screamed before grabbing a baton and swinging it right into Sam's face. I heard Lexy bawling and Sam screaming as the Chinese guy began to beat Sam with the baton, much to the outrage of Viktor, Dima, Will, and Sergei!

"No!  No, leave him alone!" Sergei was struggling violently against the chains, but despite his muscular strength the chains held him tightly. "I'll kill you, you hear?!?"

"Curse you!" Viktor swore. "Go burn in Hell, and suck on the Facist leader Mussolini's face while you're at it!"

"I'm gonna rip your face off!" Lexy spat. "I'm gonna rip your rotten arms off and beat the crud out of you with 'em!  Do you hear me?!?  I'm gonna beat you with your own fists!  Do you like that?!?  I'm gonna kill both you and that insane Asian dude with your own arms unless you leave Sam alone!"

But the Asian guy kept on beating Sam Kuper with the baton, much to our outrage, and I began to scream at him too. "I'll kill you, you hear me?!  I'll kill you, you son of a toad!  I'm gonna kill you!  Monkey-fighter!"

"Lexy...!" Sam rasped before being hit with the Asian's baton once again, this time on top of the head. The guy looked like he was going to kill Sam with the baton next, but was stopped when another Chinese guy screamed at him in Mandarin, before looking at me.

The guy looked like Mao Zedong, only younger. He appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He was wearing a two-piece suit, something you'd wear at work or something, complete with dress slacks and dress shoes. His nametag on his suit read CHANG JING.

"Chang...Jing...!" I rasped, my throat dry. I apparently hadn't drunken anything in a long time, with the only time I remember consuming water being last night.

"Olivia Bernard Coonz," Chang mused, repeating my name quietly. "You are the one who is causing all this trouble, no?  You and your American and Russian friends?"

"Leave her alone, psycho!" Will roared at him, only to be zapped by the other Chinese dude, the guy with the taser. Chang looked at him and barked in Chinese, causing the crony to back down, pocketing the taser.

"Senor Jing, why?" asked the Mexican. "Why, if I may ask, are you preventing us from getting the information we need?"

Chang looked at the Mexican coldly and said, "I know everything." Then he punched me hard across the face. Smiling, he turned to his Asian crony and waved him off.

"Why, if I may ask?" The Mexican shot Chang a confused glance. "Do you really know their mission?"

"Of course...not only was I aware of the Swiss Alps operation...I engineered it!" Chang barked. Then he started laughing. "I am so smart, am I not?  I even knew Olivia Coonz and her dastardly assault team would show up!  I planned every move!  I even knew that Alejandro Rojas, the Red Hand leader, was going to die with his friend!  How could I not send my crony Alexandra Daddario to finish the job?"

I looked at him with a mix of anger, surprise, and total disblief. This guy ordered the kidnapping of the US President's daughter seven years ago. And he was the guy who sent Alexandra Daddario after me after Jack Reacher killed Alejandro Rojas and Pedro Santos.

"You did all that!" gasped Lev. "You planned the whole fudging operation to kidnap the US President's daughter?  You used Rojas?!?  You planned everything?!?"

"It's complicated." Chang laughed, his tone somewhat quieter. "But yes, I did plan everything you dealt with seven years ago.  It started with that attempted tradeoff Bhutan was trying to make with China."

"You did that...?" Lexy gasped. "Oh, my gosh!  It was you?  Why was it you?  I thought it was Kaylyn!"

"You thought it was Miss Bigley, but it was actually me," said Chang. "I talked the Bhutanese into making that deal with the People's Republic of China to sell half of the nation's rare earth minerals.  And I arranged for Solomon's Chechens to abduct Svetlana Price and her friend Brooke Connor, as well as you, Miss Coonz." He shot a glance at me.

"You told Solomon to capture me seven years ago, after I'd rescued Brooke Connor?" My jaw hung open. "But..what about the President's daughter?  My cousin?  That French girl Diana?  Yuri Gavrilov's girlfriend?  Why'd you do all of that?"

"To get to you," said Chang with a smile. "I did all of that to get to you, Olivia, after you escaped Solomon's grasp."

"And you did all those things to kill me," I said. "You engineered everything that I went through seven years ago, just so you could kill me?  But I'm awesome!  I can't die!"

Chang looked at me coldly, his smile gone. "I know your strengths and weaknesses, Miss Coonz.  I know everything you tried to do because someone fed me the information.  Someone else who knows you."

"Knudsvig?" I asked.

"Alexandra Daddario," Chang corrected.

I felt like I was going to throw up. He turned to his Mexican associate. "Tase them again, and send them back to their rooms!"

The Mexican nodded and started jamming the taser into my ribs. I began to scream again. "AAAAH!!!!"

"NO!  NO, PLEASE!  STOP!" Lexy begged, crying hysterically. "Liv!  Liv, stay with me!  Stay with me, Liv!"

I suddenly blacked out.

<p style="text-align:center;">Mexico City, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Gaylina Raskova

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I started to cry again as I sat at my desk in my quarters at the British Special Air Service base in Yucatan, watching the horrifying scene on the computer before me. Staring right at my face was video footage of my brother and his American friends being tortured by that Chinese Anarchist nut Chang Jing. Howard Stivey couldn't talk either; he just stood mesmerized at the screen, with Preston Alderidge shaking his head disapprovingly at the footage. He then looked at me and pat me on the shoulder, as if trying to comfort me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Like I said earlier," Preston said. "Lev will survive.  Chang Jing is one nut-case of a man.  Never even cares about innocent lives in danger."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I just want to save him!" I sobbed brokenly. "I-I want to tear Jing's face open!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Calm down," said Preston. "Chang is just one man.  We will get your brother out, and bring Chang to justice.  Just be patient and you will see."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But what if they kill him?" Howard asked. "Won't it be too late by then?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, no, no." Preston shook his head again, and then looked at the ceiling. "Chang does not just capture random operatives in the field and kill them immediately.  He waits until they prove their worthiness.  If they are kept long enough and still prove unworthy of further sparing, he kills them.  If they're kept long enough and they become useful, Chang spares them for a later time." I looked at Preston and then at the screen, my jaw dropping at the parts where Lev was tortured.

<p style="text-align:left;">"He is not going to make it, is he?" I asked, almost timidly. "I mean, will Chang eventually kill him?  Will Chang kill my brother before we get to him?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"He shouldn't make that decision that quickly," said Preston. "He doesn't.  It just isn't him."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I kept watching until the video of Lev's torture ended and then closed the laptop. I looked at Preston, who was now sitting across from me with Howard. Both of them looked at me with apologetic expressions, as if they truely felt bad for what I was going through. I wiped the tears away and then looked down at the floor, while Howard reached over and patted my shoulder gently. When I looked up at him, he was offering an apologetic smile. "I'm sure your brother will be all right, mate."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, are you really sure?  How do you know that Chang won't kill Lev so quickly?  Do you have any background information?  How did this man even become an Anarchist?"

<p style="text-align:left;">In response, Preston gave me a dossier, which included a mugshot of Chang. The profile stated that his name was Chang Jing and he was thirty-four years old. His height was 6'" and his hair was black.  He was described as Asian with the nationality of Chinese.  His mini-biography below stated that he was born on 1993 in Nanjing China and in 2011, he joined the People's Liberation Army.  He remained there until 2020, where after a recent promotion to Lieutenant General in the year 2022, he was captured on the front lines during a mission to kill Alexandra Daddario, one of Luke Knudsvig's lieutenants in the Anarchist Confederation.

<p style="text-align:left;">Luke later brainwashed him, effectively turning him into a weapon against his own countrymen. Luke was the one who turned Chang Jing into a brutal military commander, a merciless tyrant of a man. Luke was the one who instilled inside Chang a brutal personality. He taught Chang how to torture POWs and conduct the most brutal interrogations. He even made Chang kill civilians, which he did unhestitantly during missions with the Anarchist military.

<p style="text-align:left;">Luke had basically turned Chang Jing into a madman.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Cooonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I couldn't see anything-a dirty bag had been slammed over my head. But I felt myself being thrown violently through the air. And then, I hit my head off of some kind of wall and crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain. However, I felt that something was wrong with the surface upon which I'd landed. It felt lumpy.

<p style="text-align:left;">It was...moving!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I sucked in a deep breath and then let out a muffled cry as I scrambled up, only to whack my head on some metallic object-a pipe, perhaps? Pain spiked up my head and back, slicing through my side and spreading across my back. In less than ten seconds, my back felt like it was on fire.

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!" I screamed. "The pain...!  Make it stop!  Please!" I struggled to calm myself. I apparently landed on something that wasn't a blanket. It wasn't a pillow or some dirty mattress that someone left in the room. It wasn't just the wall.

<p style="text-align:left;">Because walls didn't scream like the object I landed on. And then, I had a startling realization: I'd landed on a person. It wasn't Lev Raskov, because it sounded too high pitched, and it wasn't Lexy because the voice sounded younger than this voice.

<p style="text-align:left;">It sounded like a child!

<p style="text-align:left;">"A-a-are you all right?" A terrified, quiet-but unmistakably feminine-whimper suddenly arose from the dark void. "A-a-are you okay?  W-what happened?  Are you hurt?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I wished I could rub my head, but I couldn't with my wrists tied behind me with nylon cables. "I'm fine.  Are you okay?" There was another whimper as I sucked in a deep breath. I felt so weak, so thirsty, that I could barely move. I was denied food and drink for the past several agonizing hours during that interrogation and my lips felt so dry, I thought that I was going to die of thirst at any minute. I could barely move, not only because of the pain but because of the intense hunger. My stomach growled and I wished that the guards had at least given me a decent meal before torturing me like that earlier.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm okay," the other girl whispered. She sounded so young, so little, so terrified just like I was. She didn't sound a year over eleven or twelve. I could only guess her age, and I suddenly had a startling thought: Chang Jing was more than a monster. He was a sadist, not even caring if the people he tortured were young children!

<p style="text-align:left;">Distress and panic suddenly filled my voice. This guy Chang Jing apparently made a living out of torturing young people-even kids! Judging from the sound of this other girl that had just started talking to me, I felt like my theory was right. Chang was a real sadist, pleasuring himself in inflicting pain and suffering on anyone-even young children.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's your name?" asked the other girl.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia," I said quietly, my rapid breaths hot against the bag. I found it hard to slow my breathing, to conserve oxygen and prevent suffocation. "What's your name?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra," The other prisoner sniffled. "My name is Kyra."

<p style="text-align:left;">I was quiet as I tried to assess the situation and process my thoughts while staying calm all at the same time. This child sounded so terrified, so weak with fear that it made me want to break down into hysterics. I wasn't the only one in this prison anymore, save for Lev, Lexy, Sam, Sergei, Will, and Viktor. I didn't know how many others had been imprisoned in this place, let alone how many friends of mine were being kept here.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are there others?" I asked, struggling to keep from breaking into a full-scale panic attack, though it was really hard, considering that I couldn't stop crying. "Do you know anyone else?  Did you see others?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"T-there are two others," Kyra sobbed brokenly. "I land-I landed on one of them when I was-when I was thrown in here.  Both of them were unconscious at first, but one of them started moving, started crying for you.  He claimed to know you."

<p style="text-align:left;">''Was she talking about Lev? ''I thought.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Is he a Russian?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, he's American," said Kyra, still crying. "He calls himself...Davidson!  His first name's Mason."

<p style="text-align:left;">I gasped. "Mason Davidson?" I knew that Mason had been taken to this prison cell! I remembered seeing the Mexican cartel guys beating the crud out of him years ago!

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I heard a groan and felt someone else moving. Almost immediately, I felt like I was going to have a freaking heart attack: it was Lev!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Slava Bogu," I heard my friend groaning while I felt him moving. "Olivia....you are-you are alive!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Lev?" I gasped. "Is that you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, it's me." Lev sounded unusually calm, which was pretty weird given our situation. "Kyra, you good?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Y-yes," I heard Kyra whimpering shakily. "Lev, how do you...?  How do you and this 'Olivia' know each other?  Because I've known her for, what, only two and a half seconds?"

<p style="text-align:left;">But Lev ignored her question, answering her first one instead. "We're...we've known each other for seven years."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Really?" Kyra whimpered. And then, I felt fingers clawing at the bag over my head.

<p style="text-align:left;">Ten seconds later, it was gone and I was flooded with light! We were apparently in a dark cell and a dying lightbulb hung over my head. I turned and saw Kyra in her full form.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">She really did look no older than twelve or eleven, with blonde hair and a baby(ish) face and light green eyes. Kyra seemed really surprised to see me, an eighteen-year old girl-looking at her. Something told me she never saw any other girls above the age of twelve before, assuming that there were other girls and boys around the age of twelve that Chang was keeping in this prison.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're in college?" Kyra's eyes went wide as she stared at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, no.  I'm actually a high-school graduate," I said, then tried to move my bound wrists. "And my wrists hurt.  Can anyone, um, cut me loose?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Lev pulled out a small knife. "Don't move."

<p style="text-align:left;">SNAP! I heard something snapping loose and pretty soon I could move my wrists. I quickly brought them to my face and rubbed them before looking around the prison again, getting up. Kyra looked at me curiously, while Lev just looked on in silence.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What are you doing?" Kyra whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible. "Do you have a plan to get us out of here?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I thought for a moment as I scanned the room. "No.  Well, I mean kind of.  I'm actually looking for any, like, openings.  You know, places where we can sneak out.  That is, assuming that Viktor Reznov ditched the plan to get us out of here."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who's Viktor Reznov?" asked Kyra, walking towards me. "Is he a friend of yours?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, yes," I admitted. "We befriended each other during our time in the prison...well, during the time he was in prison."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Where is he?" Kyra asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I heard a window break and pretty soon, the whole room was filling up with gas!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAH!" Kyra screamed, grabbing me tightly. "Olivia, what is that?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Gas," Lev hissed. "Get down and hold your breath if you can!"

<p style="text-align:left;">But I'd already passed out.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 7: Tortured...again

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I heard myself breathing rapidly as my eyes floated open and closed. While I drifted in and out of consciousness, I heard Lev getting beat-up (just like I'd heard when we were first captured) and Kyra crying her eyes out, screaming for me. I wanted to scream out too, but I was too scared.

<p style="text-align:left;">Hours later, I heard the unmistakable voice of Chang Jing saying, "Good, you're awake." I later heard him laughing and when I opened my eyes, I was staring right at him!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Nice to have the team back together, huh?" Chang laughed. I looked toward Lev, but then screamed when I saw that Viktor Reznov and Mason Davidson were with him too! We were all tied up, strapped to chairs and facing each other!

<p style="text-align:left;">And Kyra: she was right in front of me, tied up between Viktor and Lev! Turning to my left and right side, I saw Lexy Kuper tied up right beside me, sobbing quietly while exchanging horrified glances with Lev and Viktor.

<p style="text-align:left;">"We're just missing our other friend," said Chang. "Where's the other person?  Hm?  Where are your parents?" He was now looking at Lev.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You know I'm not telling you a darn thing," Lev hissed.

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! In ten seconds, Chang had a Sig Sauer out and suddenly shot me right in the stomach! Kyra screamed bloody murder and I began gasping in pain, trying hard not to cry in front of my buddies.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Easy, American, I haven't even started with you yet," Chang said slowly, but sinisterly.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Liv...look at me!  Look at me, comrade!" Viktor squealed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes...look at her," Chang taunted. "Show her how much pain she's causing you all.  Funny thing about your Russian friends...they let their men to save their own butts."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are you serious?" Lev exploded with anger. "Chang, you're a sadist!  You're crazy!  You're fudging crazy!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Well, that's 'cause I'm better than you!"

<p style="text-align:left;">WHAM! Chang's fist smashed into Viktor's face! "I've always been better, been smarter than you!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! Chang's fist hit Viktor's face again. "But you...you call yourself loyal?" BANG! Chang hit Viktor a third time.

<p style="text-align:left;">By this time, I was struggling so much, I could feel the ropes break.

<p style="text-align:left;">Eventually they did and I charged, throwing myself on Chang's back in an attempt to strangle him! "I'll kill you, you hear me?  I'll kill you, you son of a toad!  I'm gonna find that sucker Tariq, I'm gonna tear his arms off and I'm gonna beat the crud out of you with 'em!"

<p style="text-align:left;">WHAM! Chang's fist swung into my face again and I fell to the ground. I heard him laughing at me again. "You got fire in you...and I like it!  Risking your life to protect your friend.  You, mister Reznov, could learn something from her!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Chang, stop it!" I begged. "Reznov...he didn't do anything!  He didn't deserve this!  None of us deserve this!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Did you know?" Chang taunted. Then he reloaded his gun and emptied the entire magazine into Viktor's stomach!

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" Mason and Lev both screamed. Lexy, Kyra, and I started crying out eyes out while Chang threw Viktor's shot-up body to the floor and I started cursing at him.

<p style="text-align:left;">"To heck with you!" I cried. "Burn in Hell, sucker!  I'm gonna tear your head off!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Viktor was gasping in pain, and he was looking at me with hard, angry eyes. I could tell he wanted vengeance, but it was obvious that no one was going to fulfill his wish to kill Chang.

<p style="text-align:left;">No one, that was, except the rest of us.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia...remember...!" Viktor gasped. "E-every journey begins with a...a single s-step...As long as you live, the heart of this army can never be broken.  Things will change my f-friend...as heroes, you will return to America's embrace...Remember me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, the gun was pressed to Viktor's head. "You will all suffer with me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! The gun went off and I felt myself scream again.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Ten minutes later, when I came to, I was in a large chamber with a crowd of prisoners and guards. The prisoners were looking at us in completel horror and the guards were laughing. To make matters worse, one of Chang's guys had his gun pointed to Kyra's head! But this time...I was ready!

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 8: Heart of steel
<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Kyra Sheridan

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I felt like crying; here I was, being pinned to the ground with a guy pointing a gun at my head, with a bunch of prison guards laughing and the prisoners watching in absolute horror. In front of me, I saw Olivia, surrounded by the big guy with the muscles-whom Olivia called "Sergei", and getting beaten up, while the guards were cursing and swearing at us all.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Come on!  Work, bar stewards!" I heard one guard screaming.

<p style="text-align:left;">I saw Sergei as he kept on hitting Olivia and I began screaming-begging, actually-for him to stop. "You hit like a child!" I heard Sergei scream.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Or do you only understand through force?  DOGS!!!" I heard the guard spitting on the ground and the gun was soon lifted from my head. Sergei turned to the guard holding me to the ground, and then began to approach him.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, there, ty idiot!" Olivia spat. "Eban'ko!  You jerk!" I froze; I had no idea Olivia could speak Russian.

<p style="text-align:left;">The guy with the gun turned to her. "You always, d'yavol zechenschina!  You devil woman!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, both guards were upon my friend, restraining her and beating her with clubs and fists! I began to cry again, as I felt helpless. I was only twelve, although I believed in self defense. I didn't care that my friend was being assaulted-I was too scared to do anything, let alone defend myself. I felt like I was going to scream my eyes out at the sight of Olivia getting brutalized when...

<p style="text-align:left;">SNAP! I heardf a snapping nosie and when I looked up, one of the guards had slumped to the ground in a heap. He was dead; Olivia had apparently broken his neck or something. The second guard jumped back in surprise, but at the last minute, I charged.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Get off her!" I screamed, throwing myself at the guy. Grabbing the club from the other man, I swung it at the assailant like a baseball back! "NOOO!"

<p style="text-align:left;">CRACK! I heard something break and pretty soon, the guard was at my feet in a bloody mess, his head having apparently been cracked open. I recoiled; I had killed someone for the first time! And even though I'd saved my friend, it still felt wrong.

<p style="text-align:left;">I'd still taken another person's life!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, man...!" I almost gagged at the sight of the dead guy's broken head as I turned to Olivia and held her hand out. "Hey, pal.  Olivia, I...."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra." I had a feeling Olivia was smiling at me for what I'd done, which prompted me to give her a weird look.

<p style="text-align:left;">"But-but I just killed him!" I almost started to cry. "I killed a person!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "But he was going to snap my neck.  Don't feel guilty because of what you did.  That guy was evil.  He was working for Chang." Olivia then looked at the dead men and took a pistol from the dead man's belt.

<p style="text-align:left;">She then handed it to me. When she spoke again, I suddenly cringed. It sounded nothing like Olivia's girlish voice. Rather, it sounded less feminine and more...demonic and sinister. As Olivia spoke, she took a pistol-which I recognized as an MP-443 Grach-from the dead man's belt and gave it to me. "This is war now, Kyra.  And remember what Reznov said.  He said every journey began with a single step." Then she turned to the rest of the crowd. "This is Step 1!" She bent down and secured another MP-443 Grach from the second guard.

<p style="text-align:left;">"SECURE THE KEYS!" The rest of the crowd erupted into a cacaphony of foreign voices as Olivia gestured to me, and then sprinted down the hallway. I followed her, with Sergei right next to me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step 2?" Olivia asked the crowd as she suddenly began shooting the other guards.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ascend from darkness!" The crowd chanted!

<p style="text-align:left;">"What is the third step?" Olivia asked, this time in Russian. "Chto yavlyayetsya 3-y shag?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Rain fire!" I joined the crowd in their response.

<p style="text-align:left;">"4?" Liv asked in English.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Unleash the horde!" I chanted along with the crowd.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Five?" Olivia sounded ecstatic as she continued shooting the guards.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Skewer the winged beast!" The crowd chanted.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Six?" Olivia was now looking at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">Trying my best not to break down crying like a little girl, I screamed, "Wield a fist of iron!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"And the final step?" As Olivia said this, she kicked down a door and shot one guard dead.

<p style="text-align:left;">"FREEDOM!!" I screamed, now happy again. This felt weird; earlier I felt sad about killing a guard. Now I felt happy to be going home!

<p style="text-align:left;">What was going on with me?

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I kept on following Olivia, keeping track of how many soldiers she was shooting to death. Eventually, Sergei ran ahead of me, tackling three guards at once. Holding the first two up in the air, he snapped the first man's neck and then violently hurled the other two into a wall, breaking every bone in their bodies.

<p style="text-align:left;">I cringed; there was so much death, so much violence, that I felt like I was going to throw up. But Olivia, however, didn't seem to care. Neither did Sergei. It apparently became clear that these two were becoming sadists like Chang. They wanted so much to inflict pain and suffering onto others.

<p style="text-align:left;">And it was all because Chang did it to them first.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, Sergei grabbed a pair of double doors and with his bare hands, he ripped them open. I was soon met with a very-much surprised Lexy Mae Kuper! And to her left, was her brother Sam Kuper! Sam apparently looked close to nothing like Lexy-not even close, despite the fact that they were siblings. Lexy had brown hair and blue eyes, kind of like Sam, but Sam had freckles and apparently, Lexy didn't.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Sergei!" Sam exclaimed upon seeing Sergei. "Nice to see you were finally able to break us out!" And then, he turned to me. "And who's that?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, hi.  I'm Kyra," I said timidly. "Nice to meet you, um, Sam and Lexy.  I know the big guy-Sergei-looks intimidating.  But trust me: he isn't."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, I know," said Sam, grabbing a pair of pistols from one of the dead men. "Sergei protected me."

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at Sergei, but he just ignored me. Instead, he just followed Olivia and the other prisoners into an elevator.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, Kyra!  You comin' or what?" Olivia looked impatient and was hurrying me along. So I shrugged and joined her inside the elevator with the rest of the prisoners.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, Olivia, you sure you can trust this girl?" asked a Russian prisoner. "She is only a child!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, she's twelve," said another man, who I'd recognized as Lev Raskov. "Give her some time, comrade."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Stow it, Lev," Olivia said. Then she turned to the other man. "I can trust this girl with my life.  I don't care 'bout age.  Kyra and I...we aren't so different. We are all soldiers without an army, kids without families.  Betrayed.  Forgotten.  Abandoned.  In this prison, we are a family."

<p style="text-align:left;">When the elevator door opened, Sergei and Lev both grabbed axes and began slaughtering the guards by the dozens. Olivia turned to me. "You have that Grach handy?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I-I don't want to kill people...just to kill," I said. "It's just not in me."

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia took my hand in hers. "I felt the same way when I was first introduced to the rules of war too, Kyra.  But you have to be strong.  Sometimes you have to fight back against the enemy-kill the enemy, even-to achieve your goal of going home.  We're all going to be free, Kyra.  We'll just have to fight our way to freedom, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded. "But it still seems wrong!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Now it doesn't." Olivia said firmly, and then pointed to a heavy steel door. "Okay, guys, we're going to have to force this gate open."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia, there are machineguns outside, waiting to cut us down!" I heard a voice screaming from the crowd. Searching the crowd, I suddenly found another man-an American, though he wasn't Mason Davidson-pointing at a small TV hanging from the ceiling. The screen showed a bunch of people manning heavy machineguns.

<p style="text-align:left;">I walked over to her. "Olivia, this is suicide!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Lev pat my shoulder, and so did Sergei. "Victory cannot be achieved without sacrifice, Kyra.  We Russians know this better than anyone." Sergei smiled at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then he forced down the door with his fists, only to be met with machinegun fire from the guys on the balconies.

<p style="text-align:left;">"GET DOWN!" A Russian prisoner screamed, pulling a British guy and a German woman to the floor. "GET DOWN, OR ELSE YOU WILL DIE!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra!" I felt Sergei's hand latch onto mine and soon I was being dragged over to a large coal cart, along with members of the enormous mob taking cover from the huge machineguns from the balcony.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Get down, sweetie!" Olivia screamed as we all pushed the cart. "You show your head to those guns, you're dead in an instant!  Stay down!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"The tower's gonna rip us to shreds, mates!" A British guy was screaming bloody murder. "What're we going to do?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Have faith, guys!" Olivia screamed. "Keep pushing the cart!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Left flank!" Olivia screamed. I turned and saw guards shooting at us, so I just shot back. But my gut was telling me this stil lfelt wrong.

<p style="text-align:left;">That was, until the guards began shooting back at us! I suddenly remembered Olivia's words from earlier and then began shooting the guards quickly, downing most of them. Reloading my gun, I turned to Olivia. "You sure I'm doing the right thing?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Of course, honey!" Olivia smiled. "C'mon!  There's more of 'em on the right!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned and saw more guards taking potshots at us with high-powered rifles from the next balcony. I aimed my Grach and slowly dropped them.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step 3?" asked Olivia, looking at me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Rain fire!" I answered, now more confidently. "Rain fire, Olivia!  Wait!  How do we rain fire?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"This way!" Sergei squealed, and then smashed open a pair of doors leading to a building. As I followed, I noticed a bunch of prisoners gathering on the rooftop of the building, loading up a slingshot and then firing a burning glass bottle at the tower, blowing it to smithereens!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, wow," I gasped. Then I turned and was met with another girl-this one with brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked a little shorter than Olivia, about 5'2".

<p style="text-align:left;">"Bella, meet Kyra!" I heard Olivia bark as she gestured to me. "Kyra, this is Bella!  Well, she was adopted by another family after being orphaned, and they gave her the name Madison Elizabeth Young.  But her real name is Bella Stewart Atkin!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, hi," I said awkwardly. "Yeah.  I'm Kyra.  Nice to meet you, Bella."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Nice to meet you too, Kyra." Bella smiled at me. As she spoke, I noticed that her voice had some kind of accent; she always pronounced the letter t whenever she spoke.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay," I said. "Step four...unleash the horde."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'll rally the men!" Olivia screamed. "Bella, help Kyra with the slingshot."

<p style="text-align:left;">"That's a definite can-do," said Bella. Then she pointed up the stairs while Olivia ran through a door. "Kyra, this way!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Uh, okay," I said, following Bella to the roof.

<p style="text-align:left;">One of the prisoners-a Bulgarian man-said, "The slingshot is ready!  Kyra, let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">As I manned the slingshot, I could hear Olivia on a loudspeaker, shouting, "Brave comrades of this Mexican prison, the time has come to rise against our opressors!  Today, we will show them the true hearts of soldiers!  Guards of this Mexican hellhouse, a ring of steel surrounds your wretched prison!  We will crush all who dare to resist the will of the United American Federation and her allies!  Abandon your posts!  Abandon your homes!  Abandon all hope!  URA!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BOOM! The first tower went down.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Nice!" I was surprised to see that Olivia was staring right at me through the window of the building directly ahead of me. "Keep firing on the other ones, Kyra!  You are doing a good job!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BOOM! I launched the slingshot again and another tower went up in flames!

<p style="text-align:left;">"One more left!" Bella screamed. "Kyra, burn it to the ground!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BOOM! The third tower was down and I began laughing. "This is fun!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I thought you hated war," said Bella.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I do, but I guess I have no other choice," I said, finally heeding Olivia's command.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I joined Olivia at the foot of the stairs. "This way!  Arm yourselves!  Reinforcements'll arrive soon to defend the main armory!  We'll confront the guy who put us here!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Chang?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yep," said Olivia. "Move, Kyra!  To the main armory!"

<p style="text-align:left;">At the last minute, however, my friend smashed open a cabinet and handed me some kind of wierd portable machinegun, called a machinepistol by the adults. "What is it?" I asked her.

<p style="text-align:left;">"It's called an MP7A1," Bella said. "You know how to work it?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I think so," I said. "Thanks, Olivia."

<p style="text-align:left;">"No problem," Olivia said with a smile while breaking another weapon's cabinet and getting an assault rifle she called the XM8A1 assault rifle.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't be afraid," said Bella to the other prisoners. "Kyra, the main hall!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Got it!" I screamed, entering the indicated door to a large room in the next building up ahead. Heading up the stairs to another hallway, I screamed. "Guys, they're trying to lock down the main armory!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't let them!" Bella and Olivia both screamed-apparently in unison. "KYRA, GO!!!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Sprinting for the door, I slid underneath it-when Sergei suddenly grabbed the door. "Sergei!" I yelled. "Thank God!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Just go," Sergei cried. "I'll be okay.  GO!!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I heard someone scream and ten seconds later, I heard the door slamming shut. A hand touched me and I momentarily recoiled, thinking that a guard had caught me.

<p style="text-align:left;">But it was only Sergei and Lexy! "Upstairs," Sergei barked. "Let's go!  For Reznov!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I took up the cry as I raced up to the door and, with Lexy's help, forced it open. "For Reznov!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"The roof!" I heard an American prisoner scream. "I can hear them on the roof!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They too will be lambs to the slaughter!" I momentarily jumped at the sight of Olivia Coonz, who was now right next to me. I don't know how she managed to get back downstairs in such a short time period, but I chose not to ask her at this moment.

<p style="text-align:left;">After reaching a stairwell, I looked up and I felt like my heart was sinking; the vault was sealed shut by the guards!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Stink!" Lexy barked, pointing up at the door. "Now what?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"It matters little," Sergei said. "Kyra, step six!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wield a fist of iron," I said, but then drew a blank again. "Wait, what does that mean again?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Follow me!" Olivia pointed to a door to my right. "They're trying to breach!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Do not let them in here!" Sergei barked. "Kyra and Sam, go with Lexy and Olivia to the garage.  I'll fend off the attacking guards."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But Sergei-!" Sam argued.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Listen!" Sergei roared, but then his tone softened again. "Sam, you have been the son I never had.  But I have to do this...so that you and your friends can escape.  Remember my sister?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I could hear Sam sobbing as he nodded. I began to cry too; losing Sergei would be like losing a best friend. I felt that he was so strong, so bold, that he was almost like my dad.

<p style="text-align:left;">The dad I never had!

<p style="text-align:left;">"If I don't make it," Sergei said. "Tell my sister that at least you, my friend, made it out.  Tell her that I love her, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, I'll do that," Sam said, trying to hold the tears back. And then, in a split second, he was all business again as he turned to me. "Kyra, let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wait," I argued as I followed Sam. "What about him?  We can't leave Sergei!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'll be fine," Sergei argued, grabbing an axe from off the nearest wall. "Go!  Move!  All of you!  I do not want you to die here in vain like animals!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"He's right!" Sam grabbed my hand and began pulling me toward Olivia and Lexy. "Let's go, Kyra!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I took one last glance at Sergei as he faced the back door, preparing for what was coming for him, and then whispered, "I'll never forget you," before running after Sam.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 9: Escaping the prison

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Kyra Sheridan

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"More reinforcements are on their way, mates!" I heard a British POW screaming as Olivia and Lexy led us through the door. "What are we going to do?!?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Keep moving!" Olivia screamed as she and Lexy worked together with the army of rebels to force the door open. "Kyra, the blowtorch!" Lexy directed my attention to a large blowtorch on the floor. I recognized the device because I'd seen my dad use it before.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You want me to use that?" I squealed.

<p style="text-align:left;">Lexy nodded and I reluctantly picked it up. Lexy pointed at Olivia. "Give it to her!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded back and handed Olivia the blowtorch, and then looked back at Lexy as she opened up another weapons locker and grabbed an assault rifle called a CZ 805 BREN.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm jealous," I said. "Bella gave me an MP7 and you get the big guns!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, I know," said Lexy. "Sometimes I get jealous of Olivia 'cause she handles the bigger guns."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Keep me covered," Olivia screamed. "Bella, grab a weapon and help Kyra and Lexy watch my back!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Bella nodded and broke open another cabinet, grabbing an AK-12 assault rifle. "I got your back, Liv!"

<p style="text-align:left;">We then led the other prisoners across the walkway to a large security office, where I could see Olivia trying to open the vault with the blowtorch. "Concentrate your fire on the guards," Lexy screamed, directing my attention to armed guards on the catwalks above. "Keep them off of Liv's back!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Nodding, I raised my MP7A1 and opened fire. As I did, I felt like vomiting; I was still killing another human being, and it felt wrong. Even though I was in a war setting, my instincts inside me were screaming at me, trying to get me to stop firing at the baddies that were trying to blow my head off.

<p style="text-align:left;">But I just couldn't stop. What Olivia had said was apparently burned into my memory.

<p style="text-align:left;">"They've broken through!" A Russian prisoner cried. "Pull back, comrades!  We have to pull back NOW!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia, hurry!" I cried. "Oh, my gosh!  They're coming!  Hurry!  Hurry!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, this takes time," Liv said. "If I rush, it won't open."

<p style="text-align:left;">"If you don't they'll catch us," One pretty blonde-haired female prisoner begged. "Please hurry!  I think I can hear them!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Almost there," I heard Liv barking. "Stand your ground!  Kyra, Bella, and Lexy, keep 'em off me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Ignoring my gut's cries to stop the slaughter, I continued shooting the guards on the catwalks. As I did, I began to feel that we weren't going to make it out; we were destined to die here in this prison.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra!" I heard a voice scream amongst the crowd and then I felt someone touch me. I turned and saw that it was Mason, armed with an assault rifle he called the SC-2005 (the latest iteration of another gun called the FAL, according to Lev and Olivia).

<p style="text-align:left;">"Mason!" I almost screamed upon seeing him. "I forgot!  Where were you?!?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Helping Sergei," Mason said. "Olivia, you got that vautl open!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They're going to catch us!" The blonde woman from earlier screamed. "Hurry it up, Olivia!  Please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Wow, I thought. ''Olivia seems to be familiar with everyone in the prison. Either that, or everyone else in the prison's known her for too long to forget who she is''.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Almost there," Olivia repeated. Suddenly, I heard her scream, "Yes!" I looked forward and saw that she'd managed to open the door. And just in time too; I heard what I thought was a whole army of prison guards forcing their way through the back door.

<p style="text-align:left;">And I thought about Sergei again!

<p style="text-align:left;">"MOVE!" Mason grabbed me and pulled me forward, slamming me into the blonde lady's back! We both fell forward, with myself atop the blondie's body!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Sorry," I said. "The other guy pushed me.  Are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah," I heard the other woman gasping as I got off her and helped her to her feet. "C'mon.  Let's go!  Follow the others!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia, wait!" I began panting as I continued running-or sprinting, actually-toward my buddies. My legs weren't used to this much exercise, and apparently I could feel it in the other woman too. She looked to be in her twenties, yet she looked as if she never exercised at all.

<p style="text-align:left;">Charging through the vault, I suddenly saw a large cannon lying on the ground. "I got it!" I heard Mason scream and pretty soon, he was grabbing that minigun and lifting it off the ground like he was Arnold Schwarzenegger or something.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wow," I commented. "You have big muscles, Mason!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, thanks!" Mason said. "So, guys, you want me to wreak havoc?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Step seveon, comrades?!" I heard Olivia chanting.

<p style="text-align:left;">"RAISE HELL!" The crowd screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"For honor!  For revenge!  FOR OUR FALLEN BROTHERS!!!" Liv and Lexy both chanted, seemingly in unison. Then Olivia screamed, "Mason, use that minigun and wreak havoc on the enemy!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I got it!" Mason replied and I gasped as Mason unleashed a bullet barrage upon the guards. Getting out of the vault, we continued down the main road, which seemed to be the main entrance of the prison.

<p style="text-align:left;">As I looked around, this seemed to be the case; I saw more guard towers and a barbed-wire fence lining the huge steel door.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Unleash fury!" Olivia screamed, firing her gun into the crowd. "Kill all of 'em who stand in our way!  Kill them all!  Show no mercy!  Burn this place to the ground, my friends!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I heard someone speaking in Chinese before a smoke cloud exploded right in front of me. I heard people coughing and Mason collapsed. The blonde woman whom Mason pushed me into fell on top of me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Tear gas!" Olivia cried. "They are using tear gas!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I got her!" I heard the blonde woman screaming, before I felt her dragging me away from the gas, and into a clear area, where I saw more prisoners running on foot.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">More and more of the prisoners began helping the blonde woman. I saw her turn to another prisoner and speak in another language-which I guessed was German or Polish or some other kind of European language-and pretty soon they began to help me too.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Move!" I heard Olivia screaming. "Get on the motorcycles!  Let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"M-motorcycles?" I muttered. "They have motorcycles?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra, get on that motorcycle!" I heard the European woman screaming. "Let's get the blazes out of here!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"W-what?" I asked, dazed. "What motorcycle?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I felt another man grab me and slam me into the seat of one of the motorcycles. I turned and saw that it was Sergei!

<p style="text-align:left;">"You made it!" I gasped.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You it," said Sergei. "Sam, over here."

<p style="text-align:left;">Sam Kuper came running, and pretty soon, he got put on a motorcycle with Lexy. The European woman got a seat right behind me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You want me to drive?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes," Olivia said, taking a spot in front of the European. Suddenly, I heard more guards yelling and Olivia started to panic. "Go, Kyra!  NOW!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at the handlebars and pushed the right one down. Almost immediately, the engine roared to life. I suddenly was speeding down the road, with the entire prison guard army on my tail.

<p style="text-align:left;">"More bad guys to the rear," I heard Olivia screaming. "Kyra, just outrun them!  Don't slow down!  Keep moving, or you're dead!  Go!  Go!  GO!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Come on!  Come on!" The European screamed. Then she screamed something that made me realize that she was indeed German. "Kommen!  Hurry up, Kyra!  Sich beeilen!  Bitte!  They will catch us!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're German?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Just go!" Olivia cried. "Move!  The key to step eight-freedom-is just ahead!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly saw a truck laden with guns up ahead, and gasped. "You want me to believe that this truck is the key to Step Eight?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Jump on the truck!" I heard Lexy scream. "Jump on the truck!  Get on the machinegun!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I cried. But then I jumped anyway, with the German woman following me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"OOF!" I screamed, and then I heard someone else screaming, as well as bones breaking.

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned and saw that Olivia Coonz-with a little help from Sergei's axe-had snapped the guard's neck while Lexy was pointing at the machinegun.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra, use the machinegun!" I heard her scream. Nodding, I got on the machinegun, and noticed that there was one little piece of metal located on the machinegun, and figured that to fire it I'd have to push the metal object down.

<p style="text-align:left;">"FIRE!" Lexy began pointing at the oncoming army of guards pursuing us with trucks. "FIRE, KYRA, FIRE!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra, what are we doing here?!" The German demanded. "You heard her!  Fire!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly pushed the metallic object down with all the strength I had remaining.

<p style="text-align:left;">BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! The weapon roared to life, and I began riddling the trucks with bullets, laughing with glee while watching some of them swerving and others crashing into each other.

<p style="text-align:left;">Wait, I thought. This isn't right!

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I heard a train's whistle blowing. I turned and saw that there was indeed a train up ahead, and Sergei-who was now inside the truck-was driving up alongside it.

<p style="text-align:left;">"THERE!!" Sergei cried. "Everyone's going to be okay!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded and turned to the German. "You ready to go home?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes!" I could hear her crying tears of joy. "Finally, we are going home!  Gott sei Dank!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"JUMP!" I heard Olivia screaming.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then-just when things wouldn't get anything worse-the truck exploded! I felt myself fall forward, and then-just like that-I blacked out.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 10: The Hunters and the Hunted

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I joined Shadow Force as soon as I'd learned of Olivia's capture in the Yucatan Peninsula. Liz Johnson offered me the job, and I took it. Now call me crazy for joining an elite force of female soldiers at the age of twelve, but Mom was the one who came up with the idea. If you have issues, blame her. Anyway, duringthe months where Shadow Force had planned a mission to rescue my sister I had been training. And when I said training, I meant training! I learned to shoot guns, I was taught how to toughen up when it came to running ling distances, and I learned cool fight moves like piledrivers and stuff like that. I also got to learn how to ride a jet ski and a speedboat, as well as shoot a machinegun!

<p style="text-align:left;">Also, I really got close to the other Shadow Force members, as well as their allies. One of them was Task Force Viper operative Gabi Wagner. Gabi was kind of like me, with blonde hair and blue eyes. But she was both older and taller than me. I was only five-foot-one, compared to Gabi who was five-foot-four. I was twelve and Gabi was fifteen. I had a fairly athletic-looking body and Gabi was slightly more msucular than I was.

<p style="text-align:left;">But we were both tough.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Gabi's friend Baily Ploch, however, was a completely different story. Bailey and Gabi had apparently been friends since fourth grade. Bailey and I, however, had a lot of differences. Even though I was just beginning to get to know Bailey, I was already discovering that even though she was fifteen, she was already tougher than I was. Bailey could kill any bad guy and not even flinch. I would always flinch and even scream at the sight of death. I was prone to breaking down into hysterics upon seeing someone-a close friend to be exact-die in front of me. Bailey was the same way, only she didn't go into full-blown panic mode whenever situations like that happened.

<p style="text-align:left;">Audrey Hoving was different too; she was raised a peacemaker in a Christian family. She'd always talk to me about religion and how God sent His son, whom the Christians called Jesus Christ, to die for His children. Yeah, I've heard that before, but who knew that a part-Dutch blonde girl with hazel eyes and freckles knew so much about religion? I had to admit, that I was not only combat-ready, but I also had my first dose of religious stuff. Audrey was about 5'5.5", a bit the same as eighteen year old Jamie Nicole Gebauer.

<p style="text-align:left;">Jamie Nicole was kind of like Audrey, only she had curly hair, brown eyes, and she looked to be my sister's age or something. She was Native American, coming from the Cherokee tribe. I was told that she and Audrey were friends since childhood, but I was also told that they'd been friends a lot shorter than that. Jamie and Audrey were alike in that they were always the "take-charge" kind of women. They apparently knew what dangers lurked in any mission's location and made sure that the team was ready.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Sadye Weible, aged eighteen with a height of 5'7" and dark brown hair and blue-green eyes, was Liz Johnson's secondary commander.  She supervised my drills, and apparently she and I got pretty close too.  Sadye apparently was a fighter pilot, which made me jealous 'cause I didn't get my pilot's license yet.  However, I did prepare for the operation to rescue my sister!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Now, in May of 2027, I was ready for action-thanks to the help of Liz Johnson, Bailey Ploch, Jamie Nicole Gebauer, Audrey Hoving, Gabi Wagner, and my own brother, who led Task Force Viper. Hours ago we'd suceeded in grabbing that Anarchist jerk Chang Jing from his hideout in Mexico City; Chang was apparently plotting something against my sister for something she did seven years ago, and we'd brought him aboard Shadow Force's Antonov An-225 airplane, where we tied him up good.

<p style="text-align:left;">But interrogating Chang Jing and attempting to get information about this plot was a totally different story altogether. The guy just wouldn't talk. We were obviously at the last straw with this Asian dude.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"That's enough!" Liz Johnson, my reddish-brown haired, blue-eyed, eighteen year old commanding officer, had apparently been punching Chang like crazy for the past several hours. "What'd they do to you, Chang?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"The same thing China did," hissed Chang. "They set me free."

<p style="text-align:left;">POW! My fist slammed into Chang's face. "Answer me, Chang!  Where's my sister?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Chang didn't say anything  Instead he smirked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay, you know what?" My brother, Sam Coonz, hissed. "I've had it with this jerk-hole!  Grab his chair!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Bailey and I looked at each other, and then back at Sam. "Um, what?" I asked."Grab his chair!" Sam roared angrily. "Bring that jerk over here!" I froze; it wasn't like Sam to yell in his anger. I guessed it was because he had anger spasms like Olivia did. It was all because of our cousin, Sophie Isabelle Steiner, who was killed by Anarchist forces while assisting Olivia in the mission that got her captured. I was told that Olivia was forced to watch that idiot of an Anarchist leader Alexandra Daddario kill Sophie Isabelle in front of her, and then she and her buddies were beaten and sent to a concentration camp in the midst of the Yucatan Peninsula.

<p style="text-align:left;">And I was told that Chang had a connection to that, which was why we captured him to begin with.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Sam suddenly pressed a button on the side of the plane and watched as we pushed his chair toward the cargo door, which was opening! Chang started to laugh. "You think you will break me that easily by threatening to drop me off this plane?" Now I understood Sam Coonz's intentions by telling Bailey and I to grab Chang's chair; he wanted to throw Chang off the plane if he didn't talk! Almost immediately, I was seized with anger and hatred towards the guy. I wanted to kill him for ordering my sister's abudction. That and the killing of my cousin.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're gonna tell me all about where you've taken my sister!" Sam and I both screamed, practically in unison.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What, and you will drop me if I do not say anything?" Chang said mockingly. "Bring it on!  C'mon!  Here I am!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Answer me, Chang!" Sam screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You really think you can break me with threats to throw me off this aircraft?" Chang demanded.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Sam, give him to me!" With the anger and frustration rising inside me, I grabbed Chang and punched him hard in the face, his head a mere inches from the edge of the open cargo door of the aircraft. I then shoved him really hard on the floor. "It's over, Lieutenant General!" I hissed. "We beat you!"

<p style="text-align:left;">But Chang just laughed it off as he smiled at me. "You haven't beaten me, American...you just made my job a heck of a lot easier for me." Suddenly, a huge Anarchist cargo jet, escorted by two or three jets, emerged from the clouds in full view of our airplane! The fighters did not have Chinese markings, indicating that they were not from the Chinese Air Force or anything like that. Rather, they were Anarchist planes, as evidenced by the markings on their fuselages.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Their appearance was so sudden, I almost screamed bloody murder. "Back!" Sam and Liz both screamed. "Get back!  BACK!" And then, we lurched forward and our plane jerked backwards as huge hooks and cables started shooting out of the Chinese cargo plane. And then, I had the most startling realization; we, as the hunters, suddenly became the hunted!

<p style="text-align:left;">Chang looked down at me and smiled, "Hey, if you make it out of this, American, come find me.  There's always room for one more!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Two Anarchist gunmen suddenly dropped down from the Chinese cargo jet, suspended by cables, and then grabbed Chang. I watched as the gunmen jumped back up and the hooks reeled them back into the Chinese cargo jet, taking Chang with them.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I suddenly felt myself falling through the air! I was in the air, surrounded by pieces of broken aircraft falling all around me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAH!" I screamed. "Help me!" I felt like I was going to die.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I remembered my parachute; I yanked at it and the parachute opened.

<p style="text-align:left;">WHAM! My face slammed into a piece of our Antonov's wing and I blacked out. Seconds later, I slammed through the tops of trees and the next thing I knew, I was hanging from the trees in the midst of a jungle!

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!" I screamed, looking around. I turned to the left and to the right and saw birds flying around, as well as monkeys calling and animals screeching.

<p style="text-align:left;">I was alone; I couldn't see Liz, Audrey, Bailey, or anyone else.

<p style="text-align:left;">I was alone for real.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then I remembered my knife. Bringing it out, I sliced through the ropes attaching me to my parachute.

<p style="text-align:left;">And I fell into a thorn bush!

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">

<h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 11: Hunted by mercenaries <p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I started drifting in and out of consciousness and the first thing I could feel as my own chest rising and falling and I could hear nothing but what I knew were birds singing. I tried to move my arm...

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ouch!" I suddenly screamed. I felt a searing pain in my stomach and suddenly gritted my teeth. My ribs felt like they'd been smashed with a red hot iron hammer five times in a row. I felt something warm oozing down my lower lip and the side of my head. I put my hand to the left side of my face.

<p style="text-align:left;">Blood.

<p style="text-align:left;">I'd been cut by glass and was bleeding. "AAH!  Aw, stink!  Sergei?" I searched the vehicle. Then after ten seconds, I found him-strapped into the driver's seat iwth his head slumped forward. I painfully reached over and tried to feel a pulse.

<p style="text-align:left;">He had none.

<p style="text-align:left;">Sergei Kamov-one of my only friends, and one of Sam and Lexy's only friends-was dead.

<p style="text-align:left;">The others had apparently run off-Mason, Lev, and most of the prisoner survivors. That left only me, Kyra, and the other German woman whom I heard talking with Kyra.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I remembered Kyra Sheridan.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Kyra Sheridan

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I awoke to find myself lying on my back. The truck had apparently flipped over on its left side during the explosion and I ended up inside the cab. Lev, Mason, and the other prisoners were gone and apparently, I was the only one left.

<p style="text-align:left;">Except for the German woman.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra?" A weak voice rasped. "Are you all right?  Can you hear me?  Konnen sie mich horen?"

<p style="text-align:left;">A hand touched me and I turned to see the German blondie, only now I got to see more of her face. She had green eyes, as pretty as a jade. She looked older than Olivia-maybe twenty or even thirty. She had apparently been thrown through the cab too, and her face was cut by glasss just like I was.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, it's you!" I gasped painfuilly. "Can you move?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Y-yes," she rasped. "Are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah," I rasped. "You?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Alles okay," she said weakly. "Hold on, okay?  Ich komme.  I'm coming." I tried to find Sergei, only to hear what I recognized as Olivia crying.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra...?" I groaned. "Kyra?  Oh, God...please be okay.  Kyra?" I started crawling toward the smashed passenger side door, which was hanging open. I suddenly screamed again. There was another blast of pain in my left arm and when I looked at it, I saw that it had been bruised and bleeding too.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra?" I called out in the crashed vehicle.

<p style="text-align:left;">Nothing.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then a weak groan. A really weak groan. Later, I heard the German woman from earlier speaking, "It's you.  Sie sind es.  Kyra, where...?  Where's your friend?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I don't know," I heard Kyra whimpering. "I can't see her, um..."

<p style="text-align:left;">"My name is Emilie," I heard the German speaking. "Emilie Hofmann."

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!" I screamed again, flinching at the pain in my leg. "E-Emilie...? Um, I-OW!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Is your friend okay?" I heard Emilie speaking again. "Hey, what's your name?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAUGH!  I'm Olivia," I rasped between painful gasps. "Olivia...Stanely...Coonz!  Kyra, are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!  I hurt all over," Kyra groaned.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Liv...Olivia?" Another whimper came from the back of the truck. And then, I heard a cry of pain. "AAH!  My leg!  Olivia, where are you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra, hold on!" I was frantic. "I'm coming!  Keep talking to me, sweetie!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Is that you?" Kyra's painful sobs erupted from the back of the truck, and I could hear Emilie talking to her softly in both German and English. "Are you there?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeahl, it's me," I said, dragging my beaten, bloody body out of the truck. "Are you okay?  Can you move everything, honey?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I-I don't know-I don't know." Kyra's response was suddenly interrupted by a cry of pain. "I think one of my fingers-or maybe my whole hand-broke!  But I don't know which one...!" Moments later, Kyra screamed again. "AAH!  Emilie...!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, stink!" I was now desperate to get to Kyra and see if she was okay. I was now out of the vehicle and in a clearing. I could hear voices in the distance, voices yelling in Spanish.

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly ducked. "Kyra?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes?" Kyra sobbed from the back. "Emilie, stay with me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm here," I heard another soothing voice musing in German. "I won't leave you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm coming." I made my way to the back of the vehicle and sure enough, there was Kyra with her friend Emilie.

<p style="text-align:left;">Emilie had blonde hair and green eyes, much like mine except she didn't have freckles. She also looked older than me, maybe twenty or thirty. She and Kyra were both banged up, but Kyra looked worse. The left side of Kyra's face was bleeding and her left wrist looked like it'd been dislocated. Emilie had glass injuries on her face, and a bloody bruise on her arm.

<p style="text-align:left;">"She is okay, right?" I asked her.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Y-yes," she replied, her voice posessing a moderate accent. "She is okay, Olivia."

<p style="text-align:left;">"W-where did everyone go?" I asked. "Did everyone run off?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I guess," Emilie said. "But I am not sure."

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at Kyra. "You're a mess.  Honestly speaking, you're even more banged up than me."

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!" Kyra screamed in response. I nodded towards Emilie and the two of us crawled in and delicately took Kyra in our arms before pulling her out from the truck.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who are those people?" Kyra whimpered as the voices got louder, closer. "Are those...?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Come on," I said softly. "Come on, sweetie, let's go."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">With one arm warpped around my waist, Kyra nervously followed me into the jungle, with Emilie watching her back. I kept my fingers wrapped around the Bowie knife I'd kept sheathed on my waist. The Spanish voices kept getting louder and I began to hear footsteps.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I froze; a Latino guy decked out in a black ops commando BDU appeared, a suppressed MTAR (Micro-Tavor) in his hands. He was scanning the forest, watching for any movements.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, stink," I whisper shouted. "Bad guy up ahead.  Kyra, Emilie, stay low!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Is he a member of the military?" Kyra asked. "Maybe he can help us!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">However, a few seconds later the gunman opened fire on a hidden person trying to crawl away from him. I froze; he was no member of the Mexican Armed Forces. He wa an Anarchist!

<p style="text-align:left;">No, wait. Anarchists didn't have insignias depicting red and black flags with twelve stars arranged in a circle.

<p style="text-align:left;">These weren't Feds, 'cause Feds were on our side. This guy apparently had his own insginia-one that depicted a wierd looking flag with red bars on the top and bottom. A circle of twelve stars was located in the middle of the insignia logo, against a jet-black background.

<p style="text-align:left;">The backpack the man was wearing had the words FEDERACION DE LA ANNA HOFF written on it.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No way," I muttered. "Anna Maria Hoff leads her own Federation?"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The soldier turned around and suddnely screamed in Spanish while pointing at us! He was yelling for his buddies, apparently because the minute he started talking, a whole bunch of his men-all wearing the same black ops commando BDUs with Kevlar helmets-appeared. However, some of them were wearing ballistic face shields, making them look more like riot control policemen than soldiers!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra started to cry. "We're gonna die, guys!  We're gonna die!  They'll kill us all!" The man with the MTAR gestured to one of his men, who was wielding a suppressed AAC Honey Badger rifle. He nodded and walked forward, pressing the barrel of the weapon against my head as the man with the MTAR pressed the barrel of his own weapon to Kyra's head. Everyone else trained their guns on Emilie.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia!" Kyra almost screamed, even though she was crying. "Please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The guy holding Kyra hostage suddenly barked a command in SPanish that I recognized in English: "Kill them!  Kill both of them!"

<p style="text-align:left;">WHAM! I swung around and drove my leg into my captor's groin. I pulled out my knife and, while grabbing the soldier's rifle, I slashed it across the man's neck!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Kyra, Emilie, get down!" I raised my captured rifle and opened fire on the man holding Kyra hostage. The other guys raised their weapons, but I shot them dead as Kyra rushed to me, hugging me tightly with blood and gore from the dead soldier on her face. She was obviously tramautized at the sight of so much violence, so much blood.

<p style="text-align:left;">So much death.

<p style="text-align:left;">Emilie put a protective arm around Kyra. "Ssh!  Ssh!  It's okay," I heard her whispering. "It's okay sweetheart.  you're okay."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You s-shot him!" Kyra blew at me. "Y-you shot-you shot him!" She started crying so hard she could barely speak. I brushed some of her hair back and wiped the blood from her face, though little could be done about the blood on her clothes.

<p style="text-align:left;">"It's okay," I said. But I was mentally kicking myself for shooting the man and sending his blood on Kyra.

<p style="text-align:left;">What were you thinking, girl? I hissed at myself. Now Kyra's goping to get nightmares! However, she seemed to understand what I had to do, considering what I said to her back at the prison.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm sorry," I said. "He was going to shoot you and I had to do that thing earlier just so he wouldn't kill you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"B-blood!  Y-you got blood on me!" Kyra gasped and sobbed at the same time.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Sorry," I said. Then I reloaded my rifle. "But I'm a soldier.  It's what I do."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia is right," Emilie said. "Soldiers have to do that in order to protect both their comrades and themselves.  It will be hard to get used to, but trust me: you can get past it."

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop flowing. She sat against a tree and looked around at all the dead men around us, the men I'd killed to save our own skins!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who are these people?" she cracked. "I mean, why do they want to kill us?  What did we ever do to them?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm not sure," Emilie said. "But c'mon.  We have to go.  They'll come back and get to us.  From the fact that they just threatened us and one of them told his comrades to kill us, I can tell that they are enemy soldiers."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm scared," Kyra said as she wrapped her arms around Emilie while following me. As she followed me, her sobs gradually quieted, only to get louder as she began to tremble violently.

<p style="text-align:left;">As if to calm herself, she let go of Emilie, ran to me, and buried her face in my waist. She began whispering to herself, "It's okay, Kyra.  You're going home.  Yolu're gonna be okay." I looked down at her, pitying her immediately. For a moment, she made me think of my own sister Ella, who would do the exact same freaking thing.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">And then I started to get this awful feeling that Ella was in the same situation that I was ; injured, tired and lost. All while being hunted down by mercenaries from Anna Hoff's own Federation.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

"Ouch!" I landed butt-first in a thorn bush and screamed, the spiny plants digging into my skin and leaving bloody scratches on my arms, face and legs. I looked around; I was in a heavily forested areas with birds singing, which did little to keep me company.

I was alone; Bailey, Sam, Liz, or anyone from Task Force Viper or Shadow Force-they were gone. I was truly by myself and frankly, it scared me.

"Guys?" I called out into the forest. "Sam?  Liz?  Bailey, you there?"

"Everyone report in," said Sam's voice. I breathed a sigh of relief; my brother was still alive.

"I'm okay.  Sadye's with me." Liz said. "You good, Gabi?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," said Gabi on the radio. "But we lost Audrey!  I think she got captured after getting snagged!  I heard some enemies beating the crud out of Audrey while she was trying to report her coordinates so we could rescue her!  She's activated her emergency transponder!"

"Where's Bailey?" I asked into the radio. "Guys, where's Bailey?"

"I saw her getting snagged on some trees when we landed," said Sadye. "Ella and Bailey, if you can hear us try to find the crash site.  We are just up the hill, okay?"

"I got it," I said breathlessly and pulled out my standard issue Sig Sauer P226 pistol with silencer and tactical knife, with a sensor in the form of a wrist pad attached to my left wrist to alert me of incoming enemies.

As I advanced down the path, I suddenly heard people talking amongst each other in Spanish. Looking up ahead, I saw a guy wearing a black battle dress uniform with a ballistic face shield attached to his Kevlar helmet. He was holdinga suppressed assault rifle.

"Ella?" cracked Bailey's voice on my radio set. "Ella, can you hear me?  Are you okay?"

"I-I guess," I said shakily. "There's a guy right in front of me and I can't tell if..."

"Stink," Bailey interrupted! "I see him too.  You see the insignia on his uniform?"

I nodded as I looked closely at the guy's shoulder patch. I was staring at a flag with red borders and a black background. There were twelve stars arranged in a circle in the center of the flag. To be honest the flag reminded me of the flag of the European Union, which was recently renamed the European Confederation.

"Stink," I heard Liz gasp on the radio. "They're members of Anna Hoff's dictatorship.  They're members of the Communist Federation of South America!"

I drew a blank. "Anna Hoff has a Federation?  She's a dictator?"

"No time to explain now," saidf Liz. "All I can tell 'ya is that they're evil.  All units, you are cleared to engage if they see you."

"I'm right next to the guy," said Bailey. "Hold on..."

Suddenly, Bailey Ploch burst out from the bushes to the right of the guy, grabbing him and stabbing him in the side of his neck while dragging him into the roots of a strangler fig tree. I ran forward, watching his legs disappear into the shady tree and there, I saw Bailey Ploch.

Bailey's brown-red hair was flowing to her shoulders, wet. She apparently had landed in a pond or something, because her clothes were wet too. Her waterproof boots were streaked with water. However, I was just glad she didn't cut herself on the thorn bushes like I had.

"Good to see you," said Bailey, grabbing a suppressed AK-12 assault rifle and an AAC Honey Badger off the guy's corpse, throwing the Honey Badger over to me. "You look like a mess.  Hopefully those thorns didn't cut you open."

I laughed. "Very funny, Bailey.  C'mon." I grabbed several magazines off the guy's body and then helped my friend up and looked ahead. "You know about Anna's Federation?"

"Yeah," said Bailey. "I overheard Liz talking about it one time.  Now follow me."

However, as I followed Bailey I began to think of my sister Olivia. If she'd gotten out of that prison, only to have to deal with these guys, I was seriously worried about her. I became determined to reach that prison-assuming that she was still there-and get her out. If she already got out, I was determined to get to her before these other Feds belonging to Anna Hoff got to her first.

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Blood and terror followed us everywhere we went. Kyra was clinging to me as if I were her only source of comfort, and I could tell that the other German woman-Emilie-was just as paranoid as she was. I was not severely panicked, but I still felt creeped out. Every tree's shadow seemed to hide an enemy soldier. Every puddle on the forest floor, I imagined as blood. Every time I looked at the other two girls, all I could envision in my head was a dead body.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Where are we, exactly?" Emilie asked after a few minutes of quiet. This was the first time anyone had spoken since we started out from the crashed truck minutes earlier. I didn't say anything either as we made our way through the seemingly endless jungle. I began to realize that the weight of our situation was bearing down on us so fast, some of us were beginning to act crazy with fear.

<p style="text-align:left;">"We're in a jungle in the middle of nowhere," I muttered, my hand gripped on the assault rifle in my hand. "We're miles from home in a jungle in the middle of nowhere."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, do any of you feel just as scared as me?" Kyra whispered. "This place freaks me out!  It makes me think of some horror movie I've seen a long time ago."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, save it," I said. "What happened back there with the truck probably attracted the attention of every one of those South American gunmen.  I think the Anarchists must be helping them.  We need to move."

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, Kyra asked me the randomest question ever: "Are you sixteen?  You look seventeen or eighteen.  Maybe you're nineteen!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm eighteen," I said, quietly so that no one could hear us. "Emilie, how old are you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Same as you," Emilie said, smiling. "I'm eighteen."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm twelve," Kyra whispered. "I'm the youngest of us all...and I'm so scared!  I'm so young!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Emilie's jaw suddenly dropped. "What the fudge?  What's wrong with these people?  I thought that those devils were demented enough when they kidnapped us teenagers?  But a twelve-year old girl?  She is just a child!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, keep it down," I hissed quietly. Apparently, I was mentally screaming at the Anarchist Coalition jerks, who apparently thought it'd be fun to just grab a twelve-year old girl from the street and stick her in a prison to rot!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Liv-Olivia?" Kyra whimpered against me. I looked down at her, my face displaying both shock and anger at her situation. "D-do you think there are other twelve-year-olds out there?  O-or am I the only one?  I-I feel better w-when I find out-when I find out there are others nearby-others that are near my age range."

<p style="text-align:left;">I thought for a moment. "I don't know, sweetie.  I don't care about age.  I just care that you are a child and need to get home." And then, a thought hit me, and I asked, "How'd these Anarchists manage to get you all the way to Mexico?  Were you walking alone at the border or something?  How'd they get you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra looked up at me with terrified eyes. "My mom and I took a vacation to Tuscon, Arizona, a few weeks ago.  They got me three weeks earlier.  I was kidnapped alongside my friend, a girl from Mexico named Eva Vasquez.  She is only nine, three years younger than me."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What happened to her?" I asked. "Did they kill her?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra shook her head. "She managed to escape last week, but promised that she would come back for me if she ever got help.  I never heard from her again."

<p style="text-align:left;">Emilie gave her a sad look. "I'm sorry.  If she got lost out here...I don't know if we can ever find her again."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Y-y-you think she's dead?" Kyra uttered a muffled cry. "If they killed her, I don't think they would have...left her body out."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yes, Anarchists don't leave their victims' bodies out to rot in the sun," Emilie said. "They feed them to the piranhas."

<p style="text-align:left;">At this, Kyra almost screamed, but she uttered a quiet cry of surprise and terror instead. "W-what are p-p-piranhas?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ugly, vicious river-dwelling fish," I said. "I was told they feed in swarms and shred their victims to pieces."

<p style="text-align:left;">"No...!" Kyra started crying. "Not Eva!  She's too young to die!  She's only nine!"

<p style="text-align:left;">At that same exact moment, we came across a pathway that led up to a large village up ahead, a few miles up the pathway that went uphill. There was an antenna sticking out of the roof of one of the buildings, indicating that it was a radio tower of some kind.

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra gasped. "Is that a-a radio tower?  And is that a town or small village or something?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah," I whisper-shouted, beaming with excitement. "We can call for help!" But then I remembered Lev, Lexy, Sam, and the other prisoners-assuming that they'd escaped the truck wreck alive. "But we can't forget the others," I said later.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Maybe the others reached the village and already called for help." Emilie suggested. "Maybe we should, uh, go find out?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm scared," Kyra whisper-shouted. "For Eva!  She probably made it out, but was killed by enemies in the village!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Assuming the village is guarded by Anarchists," I said, approaching the village.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I heard voices shouting in Spanish. Kyra gasped, and almost immediately Emilie and I both pulled her to the ground before scurrying behind a large rock, seconds before I heard rustling coming from the bushes up ahead. Then a large foot emerged and seconds later, we were peering through the grass at a large patrol of those same soldiers that threatened us earlier. There seemed to be two-no, three-of them and they all carried guns.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Búsquenlos, están aquí por algún lado!" I heard one of them barking. " Avisen cuando el área este despejada!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Si, senor!" Another one of the soldiers barked and in seconds the soldiers burst out in different directions, disappearing into the jungle to the left of the village.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who are these people?" Kyra asked, her voice strained with fear. "Do they want us?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No time," I said. "Quickly, guys, head for the village!  But stay in the grass."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The other girls nodded and I crept toward the village, hiding in the grassy area to avoid detection. When I reached the wall, I suddenly stopped cold and backed up against it, ducking down low. Up ahead, I saw another South American soldier, barking to two other soldiers in Spanish.

<p style="text-align:left;">"''Los vimos cerca del río. Uno de ellos estaba herido. Empiecen la búsqueda en el puesto uno y desplácense hacia el oeste. Si no los encontramos antes de que caiga la noche, no los vemos de nuevo. Cuando los encuentren avisen por radio!" ''The guy who appeared to the senior commander of this regiment of soldiers sounded frustrated and angry. He was apparently looking for a group of people, and we didn't know who they were.

<p style="text-align:left;">But Kyra was panicking. "Are they talking about Eva?  Is she hurt?  Is she even here?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I don't know," I hissed sharply. "Quiet down before they see us!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The three guys then disappeared deeper into the forest and I started to get a really nasty feeling that the others-Lexy, Lev, Sam, and the other prisoners that survived the prison break-had gone into the village to get help, but were either executed or captured by these South American soldiers. They looked like PMCs, to be honest.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I saw more soldiers. Only these people wore orange urban camouflage BDUs, Kevlar vests, balaclavas, and sunglasses equipped with radios. Still other people wore goggles and weird-looking camouflage uniforms that made them turn invisible whenever they pressed a series of buttons attached to their wristpads. The guys with the cloaking devices also wore hoods and a black balaclava.

<p style="text-align:left;">They looked like mercenaries, just from the looks of their uniforms. Either that, or they were professionally trained soldiers working for Anna Hoff, whom I had no idea was a dictator. I began to wonder if these people were looking for us because of the racket we made when the South American dudes with the black camo outfits tried to capture us, only to be massacred by me.

<p style="text-align:left;">Interestingly enough, the men also had orange urban camouflage applied to their weapons.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I heard the group of soldiers conversing in Spanish before splitting into five-man teams and scattering in different directions, their weapons drawn. Kyra started to cry; apparently she was paranoid about the possibility that her friend Eva was either captured or killed by these soldiers. Just as Kyra was going to scream bloody murder at the sight of the men with the guns, I grabbed her and clamped a hand over her mouth. But she wouldn't stop crying.

<p style="text-align:left;">A polícia deve ter contratado matadores gringos para seu trabalho sujo! " I heard one of the men faintly bark while laughing.  Then he screamed, "Sai da frente,vou atirar uma granada! "  Seconds later, I heard a grenade exploding and people screaming.

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra started whimpering against my hand, and I slowly began edging my way forward, my back hugging the wall of the building behind me as I scanned the village for signs of activity.

<p style="text-align:left;">But I found none.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I felt the cold metallic sensation of a gun barrel being pressed against my head.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't move," An Arab-accented voice said. "Or else I will kill you."

<p style="text-align:left;">Kyra whimpered, and when my eyes darted to the right I gasped at the sight of Emilie and Kyra being held at gunpoint by the PMCs.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, a rifle butt slammed into my head and I was out cold.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Look," Bailey suddenly gasped as we looked down a small hill. "They have a village down there!  I think we can go in there and see if we ask the locals where the prison is!" I looked at her skeptically; judging by the fact that the village looked awfully quiet, I had a bad feeling about this plan. Either Olivia had been moved from the prison to this village, or she escaped from the prison, only to be recaptured by bad guys hiding in the village! I began to shake with fear, but Bailey put a protective arm around my shoulder.

<p style="text-align:left;">"They'll answer for Olivia," She said, trying to calm me down. "If they really did move her here, we'll find her, Ella.  I promise."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I just hope she's okay," I said, fighting back the tears. "I just want her to be safe in my arms again."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Yucatan, Mexico

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Gaylina Raskova

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"All right!" Preston Alderidge barked as we flew over a large jungle area in a cargo jet owned by the British military. "Strap up and stow your stuff!  We're looking at a village down there!  Somewhere in that village is the private residence of an associate of Chang Jing!" While the plane rolled from left to right, Preston showed us all a picture of a middle-aged man with dark hair and dark eyes.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who is he?" I asked. "And does he know about my brother's capture?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Preston barked,  "His name is Manuel Ramirez.  Yes, but intel also reports that he also has ties to a large private military company based near here!  They're apparently his buddies and pays them to kill or capture certain people!  If this man really does have a connection with Chang's operation to abduct your brother and his friends, we'll be getting the information one way or another!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I vote for a full-frontal attack," Howard said. "And if Olivia Coonz, Lev's friend, is also being held captive in the same village, then we have an even bigger problem!  The mansion's pretty hard to find down there!  The area's heavily forested!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, we're going to do this the stealthy way," Preston said. "You'll parachute down into the jungle and infiltrate the village!  You find this son of a dirtbag Manuel and bring him back alive for interrogation!  Intel also reports that there are civilians inside the village!  So check your targets before engaging!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Copy," I said.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then the cargo plane's door opened and we all strapped on our wingsuits (those things I saw in Call of Duty: Black Ops II).

<p style="text-align:left;">"Go, now!" I heard Preston screaming. We nodded and jumped out of the plane!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">And we were free-falling through the sky, feeling the air rushing against our faces like crazy! I felt like my whole face was going to fall off my head because the wind was blowing so hard, it stung! Eventually, however, we made landfall on the jungle area behind the village.

<p style="text-align:left;">"The weapons case," said Howard. "We need to get the weapons case so we can get inside the village with sufficient firepower."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Da," I said. "I will follow you, Howard.  Lead the way."

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! Suddenly, our entry was interrupted by gunshots. Looking up ahead, I saw men with urban camouflage uniforms firing assault rifles at us! I grabbed the PP-2000 and unloaded it at the incoming soldiers, just as Howard raised his M8A1 assault rifle and fired on the other soldiers.

<p style="text-align:left;">"They're clear," said Howard. Then he pointed at a large glistening object up ahead. "That's the weapons case.  Move it, Raskova!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Moving," I said quietly as I sprinted for the weapons box. I opened it and found a gold mine of weapons: there was a Russian AK-12 rifle inside and two AEK-971 carbines, along with an M416 rifle with an ACOG scope and grenade launcher, which Howard promptly grabbed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Nice of boss to send us these," I murmured as I grabbed the AK-12 and gave Howard one of the AEK-971 carbines, strapping the other one to my back.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">We then made our way toward the village, confident that our entry was unnoticed by other soldiers within the same village. "Those guys are Manuel's soldiers," Preston soon crackled on our radio systems. "They're professionally trained mercenaries paid to kill certain people.  You'd better get in there fast or else Manuel's going to order his men to seal off the village."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Moving out now," Howard said as we broke for the village.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">But then, new problems arrived. The village suddenly erupted with activity, soldiers running out and yelling orders in Spanish at each other. Howard and I ducked as we watched the commotion unfold. "¡Enemigo neutralizado!" I heard one man scream. "Enemy neutralized!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What are these jerks doing?" Howard hissed.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I heard civilians screaming and when I looked behind Howard's shoulder, I saw the mercenaries Preston mentioned forcing people out of their homes, shooting those who didn't comply and\or tried to rebel. Howard pulled me back.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Howard, what the fudge are you doing?" I hissed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"They're cleansing the village," said Howard. "Someone apparently tipped them off about a prison break near here.  They think the people of the village are hiding the runaways."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Runaways?" I asked. "Prison break?  Are you saying that-?"

<p style="text-align:left;">But Howard already knew what was going on. "Gaylina, I think your brother escaped the prison.  These guys are looking for him."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But how do they even know Lev is my brother?" I demanded. "How do they even know anyone from that prison?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Howard shrugged. "I guess something happened back there.  Maybe Lev assaulted one of their men during his escape from prison, and they want to kill him before he kills any more of the mercenaries."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Do you think Olivia Coonz and her friends escaped too?" I began to think of the exact same theory as Howard's. "I mean, if Lev made it out surely Olivia made it out too."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But we don't know for sure," said Howard. "That's why we need to find and interrogate Manuel.  If he knows about the prison break, he probably knows about Chang's plan too."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You mean Chang is friends with this man?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"He may as well be his lieutenant," said Howard, his eyes glued to the scene.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">When the last of the civilians had been forced away, we sprinted across the empty street and took cover in an abandoned apartment building just across the street. I looked at Howard and suddenly began to feel that maybe he was right about Lev: he and his friends somehow managed to escape the prison and had possibly killed several of Manuel's men.

<p style="text-align:left;">Maybe Lev even massacred whole units of Manuel's mercenaries while he and his comrades escaped the prison. That seemed to explain why Manuel's mercenaries seemed to be after my brother.

<p style="text-align:left;">And with that thought, I had another, more startling one: If I was caught, then these jerks would think that I'd aided him too!

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, the radio crackled with the voice of Alderidge shouting, "What the fudge?!?  They....!  They got her!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I tensed. "Lev?  Olivia?  Did they-?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Stink!" Preston was frantic. "Abort mission!  I say again, the target has been captured by the enemy!  Pull out!  Abort mission!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I almost screamed; we were this close to rescuing my brother and his friends.

<p style="text-align:left;">And they got captured.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Guys, where the heck are you?" Alderidge demanded.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, the radio feed erupted with gunfire and people shouting.

<p style="text-align:left;">First, I heard a fully-grown female American screaming, "HELP!  Stink!  Right side!  Ella, get out!  Get out!  This is Shadow Four-One!  We're taking fire!  Taking fire!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Another American voice-a young girl-screamed, "OLIVIA!  CRAP!  NO!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Then nothing.

<p style="text-align:left;">Howard and I looked at each other; we were compromised!

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 12: End of the line, sucker! <p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">One day later...

<p style="text-align:center;">Washington DC, VA

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Donald Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Sarah Schwartze was our newest recruit. I mean, I knew that she was the cousin of one of our own (who later turned on us because the enemy brainwashed her), but she could still kick someone's rear end. Sarah, even though she looked pretty innocent with her attractive physical appearance, her brown hair and her brown eyes, could kill pretty much anyone. This was probably because she came from a military family. Her own father served in the Marines for quite some time and I was told that her father taught her close quarters combat, the art of handling firearms, and stuff like that.

<p style="text-align:left;">I sent her and Henry Blackburn on a mission to infiltrate a factory north of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and investigate the possibility of a connection between Chang Jing's escape from Task Force Viper captivity, and my daughter's prison break\recapture, in which I was notified of yesterday.

<p style="text-align:left;">And believe me, I was dying to see any results of this reconaissance mission.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 22, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Sarah Schwartze

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">At age twenty-eight, Henry Blackburn could handle pretty much anything. He was tough, though on the outside he didn't look to be that way. Matthew was my commanding officer, and despite his somewhat casual appearance of a shaved face, dark brown hair and brown eyes, he was pretty fearsome. In the past, I'd seen him break people's arms and even break his enemies' legs too.

<p style="text-align:left;">PFT! Blackburn's suppressed RSASS blew open the head of the nearest South American PMC. Looking up ahead, I saw what looked like a large train yard, with a huge building up ahead. Jumping down, I looked at Henry and smiled.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Intel's inside the building," he whispered. "We just gotta find it.  Viking, you there?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Affirmative," replied the voice of none other than David "Hesh" Walker. "Logan, c'mon.  It's go time!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Later, as we jumped down from a small hill, the Walkers emerged. David Walker (whom I preferred to call "Hesh"), had brown hair and Pine green eyes. Logan Walker had brown eyes and blonde hair, and he kind of made me jealous (I wanted blonde hair, just so you know).

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay, guys," said Blackburn. "Let's make things happen."

<p style="text-align:left;">Then he pulled out a suppressed AAC Honey Badger rifle with a red dot sight and a foregrip, then motioned me to do the same.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's the plan, guys?" I asked, exchanging glances at my men (and at the same time feeling kind of uncomfortable because of the fact that I was the only girl in the assault team).

<p style="text-align:left;">"We're going to break into the building and annihilate those PMCs that HQ reported," said Henry. "Then we're going to find Chang and beat out the information he has concerning Olivia Coonz's prison break."

<p style="text-align:left;">As we walked toward the biilding, I said, "How do 'ya know if Chang even knows about this prison break?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I just know," said Henry. Then he heard voices. "Stink!  Get down!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Emerging from the room was a patrol-one that consisted of two or three PMCs. All of them were wearing urban red-orange uniforms and balaclavas, as well as Kevlar helmets.

<p style="text-align:left;">"On me," whispered Henry.

<p style="text-align:left;">POP! The Honey Badger went off and one man dropped dead. The other two grabbed their AK-12 assault rifles, but David and Logan both shot them dead.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Clear," they both said in unison. "Move."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Misfit 1-3, this is Olympian 2-2," said none other than fellow team member Kiril Kirilenko. "I am seeing a lot of PMCs inside the building.  I advise that you comrades proceed with caution."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Roger," said Blackburn. "Guys, you heard him.  Stay sharp and check your corners."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Got it," I said. I laughed quietly at Kiril; he was always a take-charge guy.

<p style="text-align:left;">Kiril was a member of the Russian GRU, AKA Glavnoye Razevdyvatel'noye Upravlenlye, or Main Intelligence Directorate. To give you a little background, the GRU is suborbindate to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Ministry of Defense. Formed just b efore WWI, it remained through the turbulent time period of the Red Revolution and, surprisingly, still exists in Russia today.

<p style="text-align:left;">Kiril, like I said before, was always a take-charge guy. He always knew which decisions were best for the team. After walking through the Iron Hand's "media time bridge" between the real world and the fictional world, Kiril's boss convinced GRU to ally with the American Federation and later that year, GRU joined the alliance with other intelligence agencies allied with the American Federation's own intelligence agencies and worked together to stop this growing threat of an Anarchist\possible Communist takeover of the West. Though Anarchist threats declined, they were replaced by Communism, after Anna Maria Hoff, a former Mexican drug lord, decided to form a Communist Federation in South America. When Team Misfit apparently asked GRU to help deal with Anna Hoff's plan to create her Communist Federation, they were more than happy to oblidge.

<p style="text-align:left;">And now, Kiril was working with us.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I could see Kiril to the right, leading his own team of GRU agents in a stealthy infiltration of the PMC outpost. I could recognize his 6'1" frame, his short, black hair, and his green eyes.  From his looks, I could tell that Kiril was very durable and physically fit.  He had an athletic build, and ever since I met him for the first time during my enlistment in Team Misfit, I could see him lifting weights at the gymnasium back at Home Base in the American Federation captial of Washington DC.

<p style="text-align:left;">As we set foot inside the huge building, I heard something moving. Looking to my right, beside the door to the building from which we entered, I saw two more PMCs, talking to each other while walking down a hallway.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hmm," said Henry. "Looks like these guys are under pressure."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are they?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, it happened; a loudspeaker started talking in Spanish and Arabic, and then in Spanish again and English.

<p style="text-align:left;">I froze; how many people are involved in this PMC army anyway? And how many countries are allied with this group?

<p style="text-align:left;">The radio crackled, "All teams, this is Fortress.  Please report in." barked the voice of Korey Hogan, the leader of the group. Apparently Korey was overseeing the whole thing.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, we're here," said Henry. "Start talking."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Olivia Coonz was recaptured, but we have credible intelligence as to where she is being held," said Fortress. "And she's not alone.  A previous Shadow Force\Task Force Viper rescue team was sent in yesterday to get her out of there, but some of their guys got captured too."

<p style="text-align:left;">I gasped. "They were compromised?  Where is Olivia being held? Are her buddies with her?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They're inside the building," said Korey. "But you'll have to dig hard to find out where Olivia's being held.  Captain Coonz is our top priority, you know."

<p style="text-align:left;">"It's just a matter of where inside the building," I said, shaking my head. Then I turned to Henry. "You ready to secure the package?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Henry turned to Logan and David, and then Kiril spoke. "This is Kiril, I'm seeing multiple goons up ahead.  You might want to see this.  I'm upstairs."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Copy," said Henry, and then all of us took off for the nearest doorway up ahead, which led to a staircase to the second floor, where Kiril was.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 23, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

I could hear voices talking in Spanish and Russian, as well as Arabic. I couldn't see, because a bag had been slammed on top of my head. My head hurt; yesterday, someone knocked me out with the butt of a rifle and I'd been out the rest of that day. I woke up today with a splitting headache, and my wrists began to feel sore.

It was then that I realized that I'd been tied up.

I tried to speak, but a gag had been jammed into my mouth and secured with a strip of cloth tied around my head.

Suddenly, my mind was racing as I remembered Kyra Sheridan once again. Where was she? Did the mercenaries who captured us kill her? And where was Emilie?

"Remove the hood, please," said an accented Arab voice. I heard one soldier replying in Farsi, the language of Iran, and the hood was immediately removed.

I was apparently seated in a chair with my wrists tied behind me and I was in a dimly lit room. I looked at my captors, who were all wearing the same uniform-urban camouflaged BDUs with Kevlar helmets and vests, and some wore hoods and balaclavas while the rest of them wore goggles.

"Ah, she is awake," said a Middle Eastern man. Looking ahead, I saw a large man in his forties, an Arab based on his skin tone. He looked to be five-foot-eight, one inch shorter than my height of five-foot-seven, and he was wearing a beret, a pair of sunglasses, a scarf, a Kevlar vest, and a pair of boots.

"What shall we do with her, commander?" asked one of the fellow Arabs in the room with me. "I mean, she is American, no?"

"Indeed, she is an American," the guy with the beret laughed. "Yet, we need her alive.  Remember that she contains vital information about the American Federation's military...and we need it.  We'll figure something out later, but for now we must keep her alive."

I cringed; this guy planned to kill me or leave me to die in the wilderness after getting important information out of me. I whimpered through the gag in my mouth, shaking my head desperately while pleading with my wide, terrified eyes as the man approached.

"My name is Khaled Al-Assad," he said. "And I am here to torture you...unless you cooperate with us and give us what we need."

"Leave it, boss," said another soldier-a Russian judging by his appearance. "She is not worth it."

"Yes, she is," argued Khaled, pointing at me. "This young woman here is the prime target.  Her father, after all, is in the military too.  He commands this so-called team of 'Misfits.'"

I almost screamed as the man's fingers pressed against my face; he knew about my dad! He knew about Team Misfit's existence! He knew about me!

He knew everything about me!

"Leave me," Khaled said to his men. Then he pointed at one of the Arab guys, who was wearing a shemagh (face scarf), and a Kevlar vest. "I will deal with this American worm myself."

He then spat in my face, and I cringed at the sensation of his saliva hititng my cheek.

POW! The man with the scarf slugged me across the face and I screamed through the gag. This man was going to have fun torturing me for information! He was a sadist!

"Hey, go easy on her, will you now?" A Farsi voice barked. Then I was faced with another man, this one taller than Khaled and I combined. He looked thirty-some years old and he had dark hair, dark skin (though it looked tanned), and hazel eyes.

He had his name pinned on the hem of his jacket: Faruk Al-Bashir, the man who was warped into the real world from the video game Battlefield 3.

What did this guy want with me?

"Khaled, Tariq, please leave," said Faruk. "Let me deal with the woman.  Gentlemen, if you please..."

"Why don't you let me handle the talking?" Khaled roared. "My men caught her, not yours!"

"But," Faruk said gently. "We are all a part in this.  Do you want the entire American Federation upon us because of our bickering and our inability to accomplish important things?"

Khaled, grumbling, shook his head and took leave, along with his other guy-Tariq. Now it was just the two of us, and as Faruk looked at me, I had a feeling he felt pity for what Khaled did to me, even though he seemed to be a member of Khaled's little circle of terrorists.

''What do you want from me? ''My eyes went wide and I started shaking my head again as Faruk reached out to touch my injured cheek, which felt like it'd been burned. The other guy, AKA Tariq, had apparently punched me really hard.

"Relax," Faruk said softly. "I will not hurt you.  I promise.  Do you understand?"

I slowly nodded, but then I whimpered again as Faruk touched my hair, brushing some of it away from my face.

"I know you are afraid of him," said Faruk. "A lot of Americans are.  Your sister included.  Your sister's name is Ella, is it not?"

I let out a muffled, "Yes," and nodded; this guy knew Ella? Did everyone in this army of PMCs know my family members and friends?

"Are you a Marine?" asked Faruk. "Because many of our previous prisoners were Marines.  You are different."

I shook my head, indicating that I wasn't a member of the Marines (though I was in the old time line seven years ago).

"You are rather young for a soldier," said Faruk. Then he turned to one man, who was wearing a dark green Kevlar vest over a green shirt with black pants. He also had a balaclava on his face.

He spoke to this guy in Farsi and the man walked forward, his rifle at the ready while Faruk got in close and personal, so close in fact that I could smell his breath. It reeked of cigarettes.

"Listen to me very carefully, okay?" He said this with an odd hint of kindness, which was very surprising in contrast to Khaled's brutal, violent tone of voice. "I am not the reason you are here.  It is Khaled.  This is his doing, not mine."

Then he pointed at the stuff gag in my mouth. "He did that to you too, for fear that when he talked about you, you'd protest.  He does that often.  Do you understand that?"

I nodded again. Then I tried to say something through the gag, but it came out muffled.

Faruk ignored me. "I am only here because I wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help you.  I am not one of them.  I am not a villain.  Do you understand that?"

"What?" I uttered a muffled cry through the gag. This guy wasn't on Khaled's terms. He just agreed to help Khaled capture me just so he could talk to me later. How odd this was!

"I'm going to take the gag off, but please don't scream," Faruk cautioned. "If you do, Khaled will return and he will brutalize you for life."

My eyes went wide and I shook my head; I absolutely dreaded the thought of being brutalized by Khaled Al-Assad. I couldn't even bear to think about it, and when Faruk mentioned it it just made me want to cry.

I nodded, and Faruk smiled at me. Then he pulled the strip of cloth down and yanked the rag out of my mouth. I coughed and sputtered, then took a moment to take some deep breaths.

"I'm thirsty," I rasped; suddenly my throat felt dry and my lips felt cracked. "Can you give m-me something to drink?"

"Of course," Faruk said with a smile and then gave me a water bottle. As I gulped down the liquid, I began to think about what it was Faruk was saying to me earlier.

''He was not on Khaled's terms? Then why did he agree to this?''

"Listen to me, okay?" Faruk said after I'd consumed enough water to hydrate my body. "Are you listening?"

"Is my sister okay?" I asked. "What about Emilie?  Kyra?  The twelve-year old I was with when Khaled's guys-?"

"The twelve year old girl is fine," said Faruk. "As for Emilie...the German woman you were with..."

"She's dead?" My voice cracked.

Faruk shook her head. "They let her go."

"What?" My eyes widened.

"Khaled felt she was no use to him, so he let her go." Faruk explained, his composure calm and peaceful unlike mine. "As for the twelve-year old and your sister, Khaled had them both imprisoned in a cage outside this room."

"Like animals?" I began to sob; this guy Khaled was a sadist and he was a brutal psychopath. Who would kidnap people like this and keep them in cages like dogs and cats?

"Yes," Faruk said sadly. "He also wanted to do the same to you.  But I objected.  Unfortunately, he won and so I have to return you to the 'kennel', as he puts it, when I'm done with you."

I began to sob as I took in this information; I was captured by a Middle Eastern psychopath teaming up with Central and South American PMCs, and he wanted us all caged like animals.

"You'll get me out, right?" I asked. "I mean, if you're not with Khaled, you'll get me out of here, right?"

Faruk nodded. "There is not much I can do, though."

I suddenly remembered Samantha Kayser and what she said back in Mexico! Even this guy couldn't do much to help me, even though from his physical appearance and clothing he looked strong enough to govern a whole country!

"I'm sorry, Olivia," Faruk apologized, and then he turned to look outside, as if sensing something was off.

Then the bag was replaced over my head and I was left in a void of darkness again.

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 23, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Sarah Schwartze

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Something feel off to you?" asked Henry as we kept on going through the building to meet Kiril. Apparently the guy was really ethusiastic about something, but I didn't exactly know what it was, or if it had anything to do with the mission even. I looked around, but then again I saw nothing that made Henry Blackburn think that something was off. Nothing really seemed off to me anyways. I had the feeling that Henry was joking.

<p style="text-align:left;">Until we were blasted by tear gas.

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAH!  MY EYES!!" Henry screamed as I crumpled to the floor. "SARAH!!!"

<p style="text-align:left;">A voice rang out, "End of the line, sucker!"

<p style="text-align:left;">But I was already unconscious.

<p style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 13: The Underworld
<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 23, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Blackness. That was where I found myself from when I awoke from what I thought was the longest sleep I'd ever endured. I was in a black void, where I could barely see anything. Well, I couldn't see anything farther than ten tfeet. But I could see what looked everything in the world like a huge gate. No, it was a large wall with bars and a gate. Beyond those gates, I could see a faint, red tint with what I could perceive as fire.

<p style="text-align:left;">I gasped; I'd been imprisoned in a subterrannean prison cell in Hell! Either that, or I was in the Underworld.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I instantly started crying; where was Olivia? Was she here too? Was I the only person here in this cell? Or were there inside with me? Were there people imprisoned in this same place of blackness? I tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through my arm. I screamed, then grabbed hold of the bars inside my cell, crying in pain from all that movement.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hello?!" I called out. "Can anyone hear me?!?  Please!  Girl in trouble!  Please help me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Nothing.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then: "H-hello?  Ella?  Are you all right?  Are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I cringed, then turned around to see who was talking to me, hoping-praying, actually-that it was my sister, alive and well.

<p style="text-align:left;">But it wasn't my sister who'd been speaking. Rather it was someone else. Someone who looked nothing like Olivia, but somehow knew who I was.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella, it's me!" The other girl cracked. "It's your sister!  It's Olivia!  Do you remember me?" She sounded frantic.

<p style="text-align:left;">When this other girl looked up at me, I let out a gasp of realization; it was Olivia! But she was a mess; she looked so beat-up, broken, and bloody that she was barely recognizable. I could only recognize the voice, the now-messy blonde hair, the blue-green eyes. Her battle dress uniform was gone, and she was left wearing a tattered, bloody shirt with her pants. She was a mess too; she had broken a tooth, her lower lip was bleeding, and blood from an injury on her lip was caked all over the lower side of her face and cheek.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh, gosh!" I gasped, painfully dragging myself toward my sister.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella-!" Olivia gasped weakly and then put a hand on my shoulder.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are you all right?" I asked through clenched teeth.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I feel like complete crap!" Olivia moaned. "My body...my leg...my arm!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What about your arm?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, my sister clamped a hand over my mouth and said, "Do you hear that?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I tried to listen but after a while, I heard it too.

<p style="text-align:left;">Screams.

<p style="text-align:left;">Terrifying, agonizing, and human screams!

<p style="text-align:left;">"We're in Hell!" I gasped. "Either that, or we're in the other world.  The Underworld!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Guys..." A male voice groaned. I turned and saw a guy in his thirties or forties with a bald head and brown eyes. He stood at about 6'2" and he had a deep, authoritative voice.

<p style="text-align:left;">I knew who it was: Gabriel Rorke, Call of Duty: Ghosts' main villain. Something told me the South American Federation's brainwashing techniques from the game wore off when he entered the real world, but I didn't really know and chose not to ask. The guy's intimidating demeanor made me back against a corner when the man laid his eyes on me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"D-don't hurt me," I whimpered as Rorke began to approach me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm not going to," Gabriel replied, trying to avoid scaring the life out of me. "Are you okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I guess," I managed to utter clearly despite the fear in my voice. "You?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, I don't know," said Gabriel.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Oh...gosh!" A Russian voice groaned. I turned and saw a short-haired Russian man wearing some Russian spy outfit. The name on his badge said Kiril Kirilenko and his shoulder patch read GRU.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Guys, do you have any idea why we're here?" I asked the guy-Kiril-before holding my hand out. "And I'm Ella, by the way."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Nice to meet you, um, Ella," Kiril said, and then he introduced himself too. "I'm Kiril.  And I've noticed you read my badge."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Uh, I did." I admitted.

<p style="text-align:left;">Another female voice said, "Ella?" I turned and saw that it was Sarah Schwartze-Emily Coroama's cousin and the new Misfit member I overheard Dad talking about two weeks earlier! Sarah looked pretty surprised to see me and I had no idea how the heck did she end up in this place.

<p style="text-align:left;">Sarah looked around. "Where in the blazes are we?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"We're in Hell," said Rorke. "Literally, guys, we're in the Underworld, AKA Hell."

<p style="text-align:left;">I tensed. "I thought you didn't go to Hell until after you died!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Rorke shook his head and then froze abruptly.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I whimpered, and then I turned around in the direction of the screams of the people being tortured.

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly screamed myself; a massive creature-a massive inhuman monster, to be exact-started walking toward the cell. The creature was bipedal, 'cause he walked on two legs. But he looked like a pale-brown ogre with muscles that were bigger than Arnold Schwarzenegger's! He had two eyes that looked reptilian in appearance and hairy skin that made him look like Bigfoot or the Yeti or something.

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned and saw three or four more people-both male and female-gasping and whimpering. One of them started yelling, "No, no, no!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The creature looked at us and his huge hand-which looked scaly and reptilian in appearance-shot forward, unlocking the gate to our cell in one smooth run.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I heard one of the captives in the cell crying. "No, not me!  Not me!  Please don't take me!" I turned and saw that the speaker was one of the inmates-a female blonde that looked about my age-who was backing herself against the wall and cowering like a freaked-out animal while the ogre approached us, his eyes burning with a thirst for abuse.

<p style="text-align:left;">But the creature wasn't even looking at this person. Rather, he was looking at my sister, and then at Rorke, and then at me, and finally at Kiril and Sarah.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, his hand shot out and he grabbed Olivia!

<p style="text-align:left;">"NO!" I began screaming and yelling as the ogre-like beast picked her up-literally, picked her up. "No, let her go!  Let go of her!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia started screaming bloody murder and struggling, but she felt like an ant-weak, and feeble against the creature's almost superhuman strength. I grabbed onto the creature's leg as he began carrying my poor sister out of the cell, listening to Liv's pleas as if he delighted in them. I felt like taking a knife and stabbing it into the guy's foot, just because he was sick and demented.

<p style="text-align:left;">Gabriel suddenly sprang into action, grabbing a knife from his boot and running at the creature.

<p style="text-align:left;">POW! The ogre's leg kicked backwards and Gabriel went flying ten or twenty meters across the floor of the cell, his knife skidding away from him.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Help me!" Olivia's piercing scream rang through the cell and then through the rest of the Underworld as the creature carried her farther and farther away from me.

<p style="text-align:left;">I sprang at the gates as they slammed shut, yelling at the ogre-like beast. "Please!  Please come back!  I need you!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella, I love you!" Olivia screamed, and I felt like I was hearing what would surely be her last words. "Tell Mom and Dad I love them, okay?!?  Please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, she was gone, having been carried far enough by the fiend for her cries to go unanswered.

<p style="text-align:left;">And far enough to make any escape attempt-assuming she could even succeed in breaking free from the creature's grasp-impossible.

<p style="text-align:left;">I started crying; the giant demonic fiend had taken my sister away, and she was surely going to be tortured to death.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 14: The Punisher's Domain

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 23, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I couldn't stop crying; an enormous ogre-like creature had kidnapped by sister in front of me and Rorke and I were powerless to stop him. Rorke had tried, but received a vicious backlash from the monster's leg. I felt too weak, too feeble to take on the monster. Even if I'd tried, I would probably either end up dead on the floor, or broken and smashed like a ragdoll.

<p style="text-align:left;">After a five-minute silence, which we spent listening to the tormented screams of possibly others torture by the same monsters, one of the random captives inside our cell spoke.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What are you waiting for?" A female einmate asked. "What are we going to do about her?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned; it was the woman from earlier-the blonde girl who'd been whimpering, "No, no, no," as the beast entered the cell-who was talking.

<p style="text-align:left;">"She's scared," said another female prisoner-a British girl judging by her voice. I began to unleash a torrent of broken sobs as I slumped back against the huge gate of the cell.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Darn those mosnters," muttered a male captive. "They took that other girl's best friend-or whoever she is-away.  Next thing he'll probably do is kill her."

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly burst into tears. "No!  Please don't say that!  I can't-I can't bear to think about it!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The blondie snapped at the guy-who looked Hispanic due to his skin tone and his dark hair. "Hey, stop!  She's scared!  Her best friend or whatever was just taken! Show some respect for once!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I gave the man an angry glare. The guy threw his hands up. "sorry," He muttered as he looked outside and listened to the agonizing screams and moans.

<p style="text-align:left;">I then felt a hand on my shoulder as I heard a voice whispering, "I know you're scared, honey.  We all are.  What's your name?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned to face the speaker; it was the blondie who defended me from the male prisoner who verbally assaulted me.

<p style="text-align:left;">"My name's Ella," I said between broken sobs. "Ella Gardner Coonz.  You?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm Ashley," The inmate smiled at me. "Ashley Compton.  I'm sorry you and that other girl ended up here."

<p style="text-align:left;">I smiled sadly. "You don't need to be."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But I am," said Ashley. "Please, Ella."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hey, that other girl who was screaming for you...who is she?" asked the ex-bully.

<p style="text-align:left;">"She's my sister," I whimpered. "Her name is Olivia.  I'm Ella."

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm David Montes.  You know, from Battlefield 3." He gave me a weird smile.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I haven't played that," I said, smiling despite my tears.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly we heard more agonizing screams outside our cell. But unlike the others, these cries were more desperate, more frantic,

<p style="text-align:left;">And this time, I recognized their source.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!  Let me go!" Olivia was sobbing and crying uncontrollably. "Please!  Let go of me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I screamed; there was Olivia Coonz, being restrained by two horrifying creeatures with ugly, sharp fins. These monsters, unlike the ogre-like fiend, were more human sized. Their heads were shaped like monitor lizards and they had spiky tails.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I began crying again as the fiends threw my screaming sister onto a table and strapped her down to it.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Please!" I heard Olivia begging.

<p style="text-align:left;">HISS! One of those huge-ogre like fiends stabbed a long iron stick-which was red hot-into my sister's leg, and again in her stomach.

<p style="text-align:left;">"NOOO!" Olivia began sobbing and struggling as the reptilians joined in stabbing my sister with the long poker stick. It was sickening, watching the fiends torturing my sister with heated sticks and listening to my sister's tortured screams. I closed my eyes, but I was forced to open them again whenever I heard the creatures stabbing my sibling!

<p style="text-align:left;">Afterwards, the ogre unstrapped my sister from the table, picked up her thrashing and burnt body back up, and carried her back to the cell.

<p style="text-align:left;">PLOP! I saw my sister fall from the ogre's grasp with a dull flopping noise; Olivia looked dead.

<p style="text-align:left;">But the pained sobs told me that she was alive. The ogre gave us all a mean, angry sscowl, and left the cell. I heard Liv cry, "Please...[lease!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What are those things?!" I screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, another ogre appeared, carrying another screaming female prisoner in his huge hand, as if he were King Kong or something.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, I realized who this other person was.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Lexy!" I yelled.

<p style="text-align:left;">But Lexy just moaned. "Where am I?"

<p style="text-align:left;">David Montes flinched. "Another one?"

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 15: Supersoldier

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 23, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Hannah Blackmur

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">My name is Hannah Christine Blackmur. I'm sixteen years old (almost seventeen) and, well, I'm the survivor of a brutal massacre! My eyes flew open and I found myself in a derelict dock house in the middle of nowhere-with my face staring at a huge hole in the freaking ceiling of the place! I started to feel pain; the only thing I remembered from last night was being shelled by a bunch of those private military company guys wearing the orange urban uniforms.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wake up," A voice barked. "Wake up, soldier, now!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAUGH!" I literally screamed to wake myself up. I couldn't move my legs, or my arms, because of the pain and I felt something shoot into my left hand.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't try to talk," The voice said. I soon found myself looking at a large man in his forties with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He was holding something-some kind of suit.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're gonna make it, kid," The guy said. "Just hold on, kid."

<p style="text-align:left;">"OW!  My name's not kid," I said through my grimace. "It's-OW!-It's Hannah!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"There's no time," The man said. "It's up to you now, soldier.  I can't do this anymore.  It's all on you, Hannah."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What is?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I suddenly felt something hit me.

<p style="text-align:left;">Something soft, squishy, and slightly wet hit my side!

<p style="text-align:left;">It felt cold at first, but then it got warm as a dark blue substance engulfed my arms and my legs. It covered my whole chest and I almost screamed at the sensation. But then, it felt good.

<p style="text-align:left;">It felt really good, like I was in Heaven or something. And then, my vision snapped into some kind of high-definition crystalline focus from a high-definition TV or something. I looked down and my jaw dropped; some kind of liquified suit was being attached to my body!

<p style="text-align:left;">In ten seconds, I could get up-effortlessly-and move. I brought my arm up, and gasped when I saw that it was utilitarian gray! And then, the man handed me a helmet, just as my right arm was being covered by this alien slime-like suit.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Put it on," The man said. "Put it on and watch what happens."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I gave him a weird look, but then shrugged and donned the helmet.

<p style="text-align:left;">SNAP! I heard something snapping into place and later, a heads-up display appeared, with an energy bar (not those that you eat, silly!) appearing to my right hand side. Green dots filled the screen, and later I saw a faint hexagonal mesh-like pattern appear on the suit.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Feels good, huh?" The man said. "I bet it does.  I've been wearing this thing for months now, and was just dying to hand it to someone.  I'm glad it's you.  Kind of weird, though, 'cause you're the first girl to wear this thing."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I asked, but then I realized that my voice had changed; instead of being deep and girly, it sounded deep and electronic!

<p style="text-align:left;">I sounded like a robot! Well, sort of. I sounded like a cyborg! "The suit is alive," The man said. "It likes you.  It won't move on until I'm gone.  It's...viral, if you might say."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Viral?" I asked in that robot-voice again.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Keep that in mind and you just might pull this thing off," The man said.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Pull what off?" My alien voice rattled through the suit's system. "And why the fudge am I still talking?  Am I supposed to be mute and deaf?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, that suit's got a microphone," The guy explained. "The suit is bonding with your body so that it can use its secret powers to heal you, like a makeshift hospital.  But don't take it off while the healing process is in progress."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Why not?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Because you'll die," The man said with a frown.

<p style="text-align:left;">I gasped; this suit would kill me if I took it off while it was busy turning itself into a makeshift hospital?

<p style="text-align:left;">"D-do I get cool stuff at least?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">The guy laughed. "Yeah!  The suit can turn invisible.  Just press that button right there."

<p style="text-align:left;">He was pointing at a wrist pad of some kind attached to my right wrist. I pressed it, and instantly my arm ''disappeared. ''Well, it didn't really disappear. It just turned into liquid glass and became somewhat transparent.

<p style="text-align:left;">A display read, CHROMATOPHORE INITIALIZATION SEQUENCE: 90% COMPLETE! When it hit 100%, my arm re-materialized into the blue-gray suit again.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Like I said, get used to this suit and you just might be able to pull it off," The man said. I pressed the button once again and my suit rematerialized into view.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Pull what off?" I asked again.

<p style="text-align:left;">In response, the man said, "Olivia...Olivia Stanely Coonz.  I need you to rescue her.  She is being imprisoned in the underworld, ruled by The Punisher.  Also known as Frank Castle.  You know him as the vigilante who punishes people in the name of justice."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" I asked. "I don't know who 'Olivia' is!"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I remembered: Olivia Stanely Coonz, the one person who had blue-green eyes, freckles, and blonde hair. She led Team Misfit, and now she was being imprisoned in The Underworld?

<p style="text-align:left;">"You're my last shot here," The man said. "Coonz's last chance.  Last chance for all of us.  You need to get her out of there so that this war can be won.  You can finish this thing, Hannah.  You have to!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"You want me to save Olivia?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I gave you the suit...I gave you my life, Hannah.  Promise me...find Olivia.  It's all I can do now.  I'm sorry, Hannah!  I'm so sorry I have to do this!" The man looked like he was going to break down and cry. "They used to call me...Prophet...remember me."

<p style="text-align:left;">Just as he was about to put a gun to his head and shoot himself, he stopped. Then he said, "Oh, and by the way,  that suit contains a built-in iPod for you to play whatever music you like.  It's a hundred gigabytes and I've already pre-loaded some songs for 'ya in case you wanna sing in your robot voice."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What!  Awesome!" Suddenly, I began to love this suit! I wanted to wear it forever! I wanted to...

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! In ten seconds, the man who'd given me the suit-this nice little toy that I never wanted to let go of even if my own life depended on it-shot himself in the head.

<p style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 16: Operation Black Wolf
<p style="text-align:center;">One day later...

<p style="text-align:center;">Langely, Virginia

<p style="text-align:center;">May 24, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Jack Bauer

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Learning that my friend was currently being held captive in the jungles of Mexico was enough to make me scream. However, I managed to compose myself at the last minute. And just in time too; Korey Hogan apparently authorized Operation Black Wolf, a mission to rescue Olivia Coonz from the Underworld, which she found herself in. I was also told that Frank Castle, AKA the Punisher, was in the area. I wanted to be ready for this guy, and apparently I also wanted to know if it was possible to actually destroy him entirely. The guys at CTU were apparently doubtful whether this man truly was destroyable, but I wasn't going to let that stop me.

<p style="text-align:left;">I was going to get my friend out, whether this guy could be destroyed or not.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">One day later...

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Sam Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I got out of the jungle in one piece, but after finding out about my sister's captivity by Frank Castle, I was pretty stinking devastated. Well, that was until Dad suggested the most outlandish plan of all-get Tommy Cheng, the five-year old genius-into the Underworld and have him help my team rescue Olivia. The other whacky part was that his sidekick-Teresita Killmade-was going to back him up, which made me freak out.

<p style="text-align:left;">Teresita apparently, well, insisted and I had no choice but to go along with it.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio De Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Tommy Cheng

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The older-looking guy with the brown hair was apparently related to the eighteen-year old I was trying to rescue from this weird underground place everyone called "The Underworld." I had no idea what the Underworld was, but I had a feeling that it was actually Hell in disguise, or something like that. The "insertion"-what Sam Coonz (that's the name of the guy) called getting into the Underworld-involved jumping into a huge hole in the ground that his boss confirmed to be the entrance of the Underworld.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, when I landed inside this "Underworld", I was blasted with fire!

<p style="text-align:left;">And I was met with a huge gate!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Sam Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Getting into the Underworld was a little scary for the poor five-year old. Tommy had to put on a backpack and jump off of a cliff that was part of the hole that led to the Underworld. And when we actually struck the Underworld itself, it was pretty nasty. First of all, the fumes were thick, and the area reeked of a nasty odor that smelled all in the world like rotting meat. I could see fire and could hear people being tortured-literally tortured-in this place by what I could perceive to be giant humans.

<p style="text-align:left;">But as I looked closer, I found that they were actually huge and ugly ogres and reptilians!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Man," I muttered as I hefted my Remington R5 assault rifle. "Is this the Ten Courts of Hell or something?" IN case you don't know, I read about the Ten Courts of Hell in school. It's basically a version of Purgatory from Roman Catholicism, where you're sent to a specific "Court" (or level, I think) of Hell to be punished for evil things you did in life, according to Chinese mythology.

<p style="text-align:left;">But unlike the Ten Courts of Hell, the Underworld offered more tortures, some far worse than others. For example, you could be stabbed to death by ogres, or burned alive by reptilians wielding red-hot iron sticks. And these tortured occurred when you were still alive.

<p style="text-align:left;">Not when you were dead.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Tommy, stay with me," I said. Then I turned to Jack Bauer, who'd landed second after Tommy and myself. "Jack, make sure Tommy doesn't get freaked out by-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAAAH!!!" I was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream as a guy-a British guy in his thirties-was suddenly (and graphically) sawed in half by two ogres wielding chainsaws! Tommy jumped and suddenly began crying as he hugged Jack's leg tightly. He was obviously tramautized.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Wha-what are those things?!" Tommy croaked. Teresita just held him tightly.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm just as freaked out as you," Teresita said rather quickly. "But we-we have to do this, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Oddly, I was more freaked out than anybody on my whole squad.

<p style="text-align:left;">Never in my life had I seen such brutality.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Okay, forget the morbid stuff," I said, trying to sound like the tough guy Dad wanted me to be. "We're here for a job.  Let's get it done."

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I heard someone screaming, "Help me!  Someone please help me!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I cringed; it was Ella!

<p style="text-align:left;">"Come on!" I squealed. "This way!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I directed the team towards the enormous gate, but Bauer just stared at it. "How the heck are we going to get past that darn wall?" I asked. I looked around and saw that everybody-Jack Bauer, Tommy Cheng, Teresita Killmade, Howard Stivey, and Gaylina Raskova-were just as clueless as me. Moreoever, they were pretty creeped out by the tormented screams of the prisoners.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly-by some miracle-Bauer got over his fear and said, "Stand back." Then he took out a shotgun and blasted the gate by shooting the lock. He then kicked the gate open, only to be blasted by fire. We all ducked, the flames missing us by half a mile.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Good gracious!" I screamed. "Jack, this is genius!  Let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">We all ran into the Underworld, thinking that our mission would be easy-only to find out the hard way that it wasn't. Our entry, it seemed, alerted the demonic entities of the Underworld. Almost immediately, the ogres began targeting us, running at us with swords, spears, and pitchforks.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Stink," I cried. "Take them all out!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly awoke to find myself in a rather terrifying situation; my wrists were chained with rusty handcuffs and my body was wrapped in a kind of sheet. I couldn't see fire, but I could see darkness. I was in a cell again, but not one that was filled with fire. The walls looked super-thick, and any attempt to call out to anybody on the other side was apparently muffled by the thick walls. I was alone-or felt alone, actually. I wanted to cry out, to call out to anyone in the cell with me. But I was too scared. My own fear kept me from trying to see if others were with me in this part of the Underworld.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I heard a muffled voice-a man-screaming, "Stink!  Take them all out!" Almost immediately afterwards, muffled gunshots rang out from behind the thick walls of the prison in which I found myself in. My hopes suddenly soared; somebody was either attempting to escape from this place, or an outside team had broken into the place and was actively fighting the army of ugly creatures that had subjected my sister and I-as well as my other friends-to horrifying forms of torture. I wanted to cry out and get the guy's attention, but suddenly thought against it at the last second, remembering that the walls were too thick for anyone's voices to pass through.

<p style="text-align:left;">Another muffled voice started shouting, "Engage!  Engage!  Engage!  Watch the left flank!  Sam, attack their right flank!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I jolted; Sam?

<p style="text-align:left;">Sam Coonz-my overprotective brother-was here too? Was he the guy who shouted for some other dude to "take them all out?" I began crying tears of joy, but eventually they turned to tears of despair and hopelessness. Even if Sam had succeeded in getting inside the Underworld, I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to reach me. I was to be trapped here, with no way for my brother to save me.

<p style="text-align:left;">A hushed voice asked, "Who is that?  Do you know whose voice that is?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked around again, my eyes dotting left and right to see through the darkness of the cell. "Hello?" I called out. "Who's out there?  Who's talking to me?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I felt a hand grabbing the manacle on my left wrist and I gasped in fear, but the voice said, "Ella, it's me.  It's Ashley!  I'm right next to you."

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked around again, but I could see nothing but dim lights in the cell.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I'm to your right," Ashley whispered. I looked to the right and soon enough, there she was. Though I could only see a faint silohuette of her hair, I could definitely feel her hand (which actually felt kind of smooth, much to my surprise). The only things I could see clearly were her hands-which looked all scratched and burned-and her face. Her face looked worse than her hands did, with a burn on her lower lip and scratch marks on her left cheek, possibly from the reptilians.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who are those people?" Ashley whispered fearfully. "Are they people trying to save us, or kill us?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I think they're trying to save us," I whisper-sobbed. "But-but they don't know where-where we are!  They can't reach us!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I began sobbing, and Ashley put a protective arm around me, hugging me as if I were her own child (even though she was a teenager and I was a tween). "It's okay," Ashely whispered, trying to contain her own fear and anxiety. "They'll get to us eventually.  They can't stay out there for long.  They'll get to us.  You'll see."

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, they won't," I sobbed brokenly. "The walls-they're too thick for anyone to get past!  They can't breach the wall."

<p style="text-align:left;">"They could, um, use explosives to blow the walls," Ashley suggested, trying to brighten me up again.

<p style="text-align:left;">"How-how do you know about ex-explosives?" I asked shakily.

<p style="text-align:left;">"I watch war movies," said Ashley. "I know how explosives work."

<p style="text-align:left;">"But if they-they can't get to us, we'll die!" I cried. "We're gonna die, Ashley!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, we're not going to die," Ash said, somehow able to keep her own fear from stopping her from thinking smart. "We're not going to die, okay?"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, we heard the gate opening. PLOP! Olivia's burned, beaten, and bloodied body once again dropped in front of us all. The scary thing was that she looked worse than last time. She had apparently broken a tooth, her lower lip was swollen a bit, and she had more ugly scratch marks on her face.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella!" The minute Liv saw me, she wrapped her arms around me in a tight bear hug.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Can't...breathe!" I gasped. Liv immediately let go and put an overprotective arm around me, just like Ash had done.

<p style="text-align:left;">"We heard gunshots," Ashley explained. "But-but Ella was freaking out because she knew that one of the guys shooting-he was her brother.  And she was overreacting."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Overreacting?" Liv asked, looking at me. "Why, Ella?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I heard Sam!" I whisper-sobbed. "Sam's here!  He wants to save us, but I don't think the walls are strong enough for him to break through.  We're gonna die, 'cause he can't-he can't get to us!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia gave me a weird look. "Sam is outside?  You heard him?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I heard his voice myself," I sobbed.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, as if on cue, Sam Coonz's voice barked, "Spread out!  Ella and Olivia have got to be around here somewhere!"

<p style="text-align:left;">That was the moment that Liv and I both gasped. Sam Coonz was looking for us, but then Liv had the same bad feeling that I had: Sam would not be able to breach the thick walls that led to our new prison cell.

<p style="text-align:left;">That was, until Liv said, "Sam can't, but I bet we can!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at her weirdly again. "W-why?  T-the walls-they are too thick!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I looked at the walls, they're not that thick," said Liv. "I think we can break through them if we can, you know, overpower the gaurds and knock the doors down ourselves."

<p style="text-align:left;">I panicked. "No!  That's terrible!  I want to get out of here alive, not in pieces!  If we try and attack the guards, they'll kill us with their-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Liv brushed a part of my hair away from my face and said, "Ella, listen to me.  You have to trust me, okay?  I'm awesome.  I can take down an army of ogres and reptilians 'cause they can't harm me.  I'm too awesome to die.  And besides, I won't let anyone lay a finger on you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"You don't really mean you're going to-?" Ashley began to ask.

<p style="text-align:left;">But Liv already answered her. "Yeah, Ashley.  We're going to help Sam break down that wall by busting out o here."

<p style="text-align:left;">"When did you decide this?" I asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">Liv was silent for a moment before answering. "I decided this after I was tortured by those ogre things again.  Actually, it was Gabriel Rorke's idea.  He thought the walls weren't that thick, so we thought we should blast our way out of here ourselves."

<p style="text-align:left;">"B-but how will we get weapons and enough people to overpower the guards?" I asked. "I mean, assuming the plan will work."

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia smiled. "I have my ways, Ella.  You'd be surprised at how big an army I've made."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Sam Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"I heard something," said Jack. "It came from that direction!" He was pointing to a huge wall from which I could hear muffled voices talking. And from the looks of it, the voices were all girls or young women or something like that. I suddenly brightened up; Olivia and Ella were definitely on the other side. But when Jack looked at the wall, he shook his head. I looked at him as if something was wrong.

<p style="text-align:left;">"The wall's too thick," said Jack. "We're never going to be able to break through that freakin' thing."

<p style="text-align:left;">I felt the wall and knocked on it. To my surprise, the wall echoed in a rather dull thudding sound. Jack was right; the wall really was too thick. "It's reinforced concrete," I said. "We can't get through this."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Any bright ideas?" asked Teresita.

<p style="text-align:left;">Suddenly, the wall behind me exploded and I turned. And then I screamed upon seeing a man-sized ogre-one that was as tall as the Sasquatch-with horns and vampire like teeth-coming out from the hole in the wall. He was holding a pitchfork in his hand and growling. I froze-which turned out to be a really bad move. The giant ogre charged, and I blindly fired my assault rifle at the creature's face.

<p style="text-align:left;">POW! The beast's fist flew forward and I went flying right through the wall.

<p style="text-align:left;">"NOOOO!!!" I heard someone-a girl-scream bloody murder.

<p style="text-align:left;">It took me a few seconds to realize that that girl was actually Ella!

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">North of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

<p style="text-align:center;">May 25, 2027

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"NOOOOOO!!!" I screamed upon seeing a huge ogre punch my poor bro right through the stinking wall. Sam was groaning, and the giant ogre that smashed him through the wall started laughing, his pitchfork pointed skywards. Sam started to get up slowly, only for the ogre to grab him and throw him across the room, his body slamming into the opposite wall. I heard Sam scream abruptly and was about to scream myself when...

<p style="text-align:left;">FWOOSH! Someone fired a rocket-propelled grenade at the giant creature and it stumbled, roaring in agony. I turned around and saw Olivia standing there, the RPG in her scratched, burned hands. "NIce save," I said. "But Sam-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Don't worry about him," Olivia said. "He's fine."

<p style="text-align:left;">"AAAUGH!  I'm actually not fine!" Sam stumbled to his feet and I could see that the left side of his face was bruised badly. He must've hit the wall pretty hard. Sam looked at the ogre, and then back at Liv and I. "So...any idea how you wound up in the Underworld after escaping a Mexican prison?"

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia and I looked at each other and said, "No idea, Sam."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 17: Resettling
<p style="text-align:center;">After history reset itself back by twenty-seven years <p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">We arrived in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles on September 9, 2000, and we resettled into civilian life. However, things were getting really interesting overseas. Some time before our arrival, Vladimir Makarov, the Russian terrorist from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare series, plotted a coup against South America (I don't know why he did that). Rallying up an army of followers over the course of the past few months, he sucessfully launched a coup de'tat against the Cubans, and then took over Russia with a second coup de'tat against the Japanese which he reorganized into the Communist Federation. At about the same time, HYDRA, the evil organization from the Marvel Comics universe, was warped into the real world with the Time Bridge. Seeking new allies, Makarov readily welcomed Johann Schmidt, AKA the Red Skull, and HYDRA became part of the Communist Federation.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">In the USA, Tommy Cheng (the five-year old genius that I found out about, who accompanied Sam on his mission to save me from the Underworld) defeated George W. Bush in the 2000 Presidential Election. I don't know how he mananged to become President at the age of five, but something told me his smarts allowed him to pull it off. Anyway, Tommy became President, and he made radical changes to the US government's foreign policy. For example, he declared that the United States give her ally Israel 500 rubber duckies each year as presents. He also made radical changes to the US Constitution, saying that the US government was allowed the ability to "burn" her enemies. Sometime after these events,  the biggest change of all occurred: Tommy's charismatic charm led pretty much all of the West to follow him, after Tommy declared that he would "lead Earth to a golden age, where we would be unstoppable", or something like that. In a stunning display of generosity, China and Russia gave the nations of Crimea and Taiwan to Tommy's government. Crimeans were outraged by this move, but Tommy-in his own stunning display of generosity-promised to treat the Crimeans well. Later, the governments of Canada, Mexico and Israel became allies with Tommy, all because of his good karma, and pretty soon Tommy united all of North America and South America into the "Imperial Federation of the Americas".

<p style="text-align:left;">Arabs became outraged at Tommy Cheng's new foreign policy to give Israel 5,000 rubber duckies each year. I don't know why, but I theorize that it was either because Arabs thought rubber duckies were stupid, or merely because of the fact that the recepient was their worst enemy Israel.

<p style="text-align:left;">Personally, I thought Tommy was just trying to be nice, but the Arabs thought he was an idiot for making it a law to give Israel 5,000 rubber duckies.

<p style="text-align:left;">As for me, I fell in love with and began dating Logan Walker, son of retired US Army captain Elias T. Walker. Apparently Logan's dad and my own dad became best buddies and both parents approved of our relationship. We kind of hit it off right away and started dating almost each weekend. Logan thought about proposing to me, but I was told that Logan wasn't ready to make such a move yet.

<p style="text-align:left;">When he told me he was thinking about telling me about proposing, I said to him, "In your dreams, Logan." Later that same year, Stitch, the little blue alien from Lilo and Stitch also made it into the real world via time warp. His appearance was shocking, but due to the fact that he was cute, everybody in the Slayerz task force grew to love him eventually, despite the fact that he liked to destroy things.

<p style="text-align:left;">When we arrived in Beverly Hills, I had to deal with the fact that things were changing. I became a high school senior and we were almost finished with the first semester. Finals were around the corner. And, well, I didn't like it that much. Not because I didn't want to graduate or anything, but because I didn't like cramming everything I'd learned during the semester into one year. Things were going good at first; Cordis Die offered to accept Team Misfit into its military organization. Dad readily complied, and, in a stunning act of union, we all banded together-Shadow Force, Team Misfit, and Cordis Die-and created the Slayerz, a task force dedicated to "slaying" anyone that would try to destroy America.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">However, Ella was nervous because back in the old time line, there was an alleged supersoldier called the Red Wolf, whom Ella claimed was out to kill her. This soldier used to be a female German agent working for the KSK, or Kommando Spezialkrafte, I'd been told, and apparently she escaped captivity from Islamic terrorists in the old time line and escaped to the new time period, via time travel. However, she was captured by Communist Federation dictators and brainwashed into becoming a Communist agent for Makarov's goons. Ella told me that the Red Wolf had enhanced superhuman strength, and that she wore a black suit of armor whenever she went out to assassinate people for the Communists. She also told me that the Red Wolf used a cybernetic arm to enhance her muscle power. She also detailed about an incident where a gang of "creepy thugs" led by a girl wearing an armored suit, goggles, and a mask assaulted her, and gave her a series of injuries on her face and her left arm.

<p style="text-align:left;">She wouldn't tell me anything more after that, except for the fact that the Red Wolf was out to kill her, and that only she knew this assassin's real name, though she wouldn't tell me (only she knew). But I was determined to find out more about this "Red Wolf" that was targeting my sister. The question I wanted to answer was, Why would a Communist assassin want to kill my sister?

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">After school, Olivia approached me. After I'd told her everything I knew about the Red Wolf-the German agent trying to kill me-she apparently couldn't get enough. I sat down on a bench and looked away, trying to avoid my sister's gaze. However, once she sat down I looked at her anyway.

<p style="text-align:left;">'You don't believe me, do you?" I asked her quietly.  "Do you think I'm crazy? Everyone else thinks I am."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella, to be honest I'm not sure," Olivia replied rather awkwardly. "In fact, I need more information about this person's abilities in order to figure out a solution.  All you said was that she had superhuman strength and a cybernetic arm, as well as an armored suit.  How often does she wear it?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Quite often," I said. "Especially when she's trying to kill me."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Interesting," Liv said. "So...anything else you can tell me about the Red Wolf?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"She wears a mask and a pair of goggles to hide her face from me, as if she doesn't want me to see her face when she tries to kill me," I said. "And she has enhanced durability.  I was told that she can survive a fall from Mount Everest, even at a height that would kill a normal person."

<p style="text-align:left;">Liv looked surprised. "Oh?  You serious?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah," I said. "This German girl has leg muscles that can absorb the impact of any high fall and allow her to go straight into a run all over again.  She also has enhanced reaction time."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Reaction time?" Liv asked. "Like...superhuman reflexes?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded. "Yeah.  She can sense when someone's going to hit her, moments before somebody actually gets a chance to hit her."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What else does she have?" Liv asked.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Enhanced hearing," I replied. "He can disregard all other sounds in his environment and focus on just one sound."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Interesting," Olivia said. "So she's a former KSK agent-turned Communist mercenary?  Is that it?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded. "You have to believe me, sis.  She's going to kill me.  You have to do something."

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia thought for a moment. "I'll see what I can do."

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I got home after school to relinquish the feeling of victory over Finals. The house didn't change much; I still had my room, my XBox, my flat-screen plasma TV. And then, I saw a photograph and a picture of a guy posing with some girl. The guy had glasses and looked really tall, possibly 6'5" or something.  The girl looked about my height-5'6"-and had brown hair and brown-blue eyes. SHe also had big muscles too-kind of. He had brown hair too, and his eyes were hazel.

<p style="text-align:left;">The girl's name, according to the attached profile, was Brittney Winchester. The guy was identified as her brother Matthew. I took a deep breath; this girl Brittney must've had a pretty cool life living with a bro with muscles bigger than hers. The attached profile also mentioned that Matthew was 230 pounds of pure muscle. I groaned; if I got beat-up by a guy like him, I'd be dead in two minutes. I mean, I was awesome and all, but a guy at the height of 6'5 and two hundred-and-thirty pounds of pure muscle was kind of scary.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then I said to myself, "Fine.  I'll be scarier."

<p style="text-align:left;">

Chapter 18: Rise of the Red Wolf
<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000

<p style="text-align:center;">Ella Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Switching back to life as a civilian was kind of hard, considering that we'd been faced with traumatic experiences involving people dying in front of us and explosions and having to kill people, etc. Buit it was good, and besides I needed a break from all those explosions. Olivia, however, was havinga hard time. SHe was living the rest of her life looking troubled and rather pained. However, she got over it and by some miracle she was also able to keep her grades up. I, meanwhile, got to hang out with Casey Davidson, Mason Davidson's sister. Just so you know, Casey is fourteen, one year older than me. We liked the same things, the same movies, the same TV shows. But our appearances were very different. Casey was five-foot-four and I was five-foot. I had green eyes and blonde hair, while Casey had dark brown-almost black-hair and gray eyes.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Our favorite hobby was to hang out behind Beverly Hills High School while Liv's classes were going on inside. That was always fiun, but I had the growing suspicion that MeKenna Weida, the one called the Red Wolf, would suddenly appear and try to kill me again. But usually, I tried to hide such fears to avoid scaring my friend. But today, Casey noticed my anxiety because of the pale look she kept noticing on my face, despite numerous attempts to get rid of it to be cool.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Is something wrong?" Casey flashed me a look of concern as I suddenly looked nervous and sort of paranoid. "You look paranoid, Ella.  What's wrong?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"I-I, uh-!" I was trying to get the words out, but I started stammering instead.

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" Casey asked., sitting next to me.

<p style="text-align:left;">I, however, just stared at the ground and my body started shaking.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are you okay?" Casey asked. "Are you sick or something?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No," I said. "I-I just keep getting this weird feeling that something bad's gonna happen."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What do you mean?" Casey asked. "What could possibly go wrong?"

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I lost it. "I'm sorry, Casey.  It-it's just hard to-to admit without scaring you."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What's so hard to admit without scaring me?" Casey asked. "You can tell me, Elle. I'm your friend."

<p style="text-align:left;">ANd then, I said in a rather hushed tone," I think  somebody's trying to kill me."

<p style="text-align:left;">Casey's eyes went wide. "What? Are you serious? Why? Why would anybody want to kill you?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"It's hard to explain..." I ventured.

<p style="text-align:left;">But before I could go on, Casey suddenly put a hand on my shoulder. "it's okay, Elle.  You can tell me.  What's going on?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Somebody hates me," I admitted. "A couple of months ago, I got beat-up by a rather scary gang of thugs led by a girl wearing an armored suit."

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?!" Casey's expression transformed from concern to horror. "What are you talking about?!  Is this real?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at her and pointed at the bandage on my arm and the left side of my face. "How else will I explain this?" I asked aloud and then peeled the bandage back, revealing the ugly knife wound on my cheek and lower lip.

<p style="text-align:left;">"The girl did that to me," I said. "She tried to kidnap me a couple years ago and I got assaulted by her henchmen trying to defend myself.  One of them stabbed me."

<p style="text-align:left;">I then opened up my shirt a little and showed a shock Casety Davidson the burn marks on my chest. "The female assassin everybody called the Red Wolf tried to cut my chest open and cut out my heart."

<p style="text-align:left;">Casey looked as if she was going to cry. "Ella, this-! This is horrible! It's awful!  Did you tell your parents?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"They already know," I said sadly. "They want to make sure that crazed female assassin doesn't hurt me like that again."

<p style="text-align:left;">Casey put a protective arm around me. "I'm not going to let this crazed assassin do this to you again.  I promise, I'll protect you with my life!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Thanks, Case," I said quietly,

<p style="text-align:left;">BOOM! An explosion rang out and a car across the street went up in flames! Bystanders screamed and cops started surrounding the burning vehicle in order to investigate. Suddenly, the chattering of machinegun fire erupted from behind the smoldering vehicle and the cops fell to the ground in a dead heap. I gasped and Casey's jaw droppedin horror as an oddly familiar shape appeared through the smoke. As it got closer, I suddenly recognize the outfit and the long, brown hair.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who is that?!" Casey cried in horror. She turned and saw that other kids were fleeing towards their parents and axious teenagers flooded the windows to get a better look at the commotiion.

<p style="text-align:left;">I suddenly gasped. "Weida!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"What?" Casey squealed in horror as the unmistakable outline of MeKenna Weida-the Red Wolf-appeared, with her goggles and mask on.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"Who's Weida?!" Casey asked. But before I could respond, MeKenna piulled outan M27 IAR light machinegun and opened fire on the bystanders near the flaming vehicle, as well as the cops. I screamed as I realized that she wasn't alone; two or three other men wearing Kevlar vests were flanking her, armed with AK-12 assault rifles.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Casey, run!" I grabbed my friend's hand. "C'mon, let's go!"

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">We made a break for a large field next to the playground, where most of the people seemed to be headed for. I turned around and there was MeKenna, her gun aimed straight for me. "Stink," I cried. "Let's go, Casey! Let's-!"

<p style="text-align:left;">CRACK! I felt something break and I went down screaming. Casey screamed bloody murder and it took me a few seconds to realize that I had been shot in the leg. "Ella, no!" Casey was hysterical. "Your leg!  Oh, my gosh!" I grabbed my leg and saw some kind of dart sticking out of it. It looked like something out of a blowgun, or something like that. As I looked at it, I suddenly felt whoozy.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, no, no! Ella, don't die on me! Don't die on me, Ella, please! I've known you too long!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Casey-Case-!" I sputtered.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then I passed out, but not before I saw Olivia and Logan sprinting towards me.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills High School, Beverly Hills

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Logan Walker

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Olivia and I both panicked after we saw Ella being shot by the Red Wolf. But I was the one who wanted to punch this female assassin in the face and see if she liked it. I ran towards the attacker, but Liv stopped me. "Logan, wait! How are we going to get past that supersoldier?"

<p style="text-align:left;">I looked at Liv. "I don't know."

<p style="text-align:left;">But then, Liv tore down the hill towards the attacker, but not before saying, "I do."

<p style="text-align:left;">"Liv, wait!" I started to argue.

<p style="text-align:left;">But she was already too far away to hear me.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills High School, Beverly Hills

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000 (alternate history)

<p style="text-align:center;">Casey Davidson

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I was crying; Ella was either dead or close to dying all because she with shot by what I thought was a poisonous dart, though I couldn't really tell what it was. She looked dead to me and that was what scared me. Keeping an eye on the shooter, I dragged Ella to safety underneath the slide and looked at her leg wound. It was then that Ella started to stir. First she moaned, "Umm...where-where am I?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Ella!" I was crying happy tears now. "I thought you were dead!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Did I-?" Ella rasped.

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! The Red Wolf that my friend mentioned started shooting at someone running downhill and ducking behind a tree.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Case-Casey?" Ella gasped weakyl. "My leg hurts!  AAH!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Here," I said. "Grit your teeth.  I'm going to pull this thing out!"

<p style="text-align:left;">"No, no, no, Casey, don't!: Ella was crying now, just as hard as I was. "Don't pull it out, Casey, please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">But then I yanked the dark out and Ella screamed again. "AAAAAAAH!!!!" Ella practically shrieked. Almost abruptly, the Red Wolf turned to look at us. Ella was about to scream again, but I clamped a hand over her mouth, whichc didn't do much to stifle her wild sobs. I almost screamed bloody murder myself as the Red Wolf got closer, her M416 assault rifle aimed right at my head. That was, until the older woman I'd witnessed running downhill crashed into the attacker and slammed her to the ground.

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Beverly Hills High School, Beverly Hills

<p style="text-align:center;">October 9, 2000 (Alt. History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I lunged at the armed female assassin and grabbed her from behind in a bear hug, knocking her rifle to the ground while pinning her to the grassy field. I tried to get a firm hold on my sister's assailant, but the Red Wolf abrutply jerked her head backwards and sent me reeling towards the ground. As I hit the ground I quickly rolled to the right and saw that the woman was getting up and walking towards me. I got up too-a little slower than the Red Wolf did-and charged towards the assailant.

<p style="text-align:left;">CRASH! Our bodies collided and I tried to tackle her like a football quarterback. However, she was able to whack me in the face with her elbow and break free from my headlock. Promptly, the attacker pulled out a P226 pistol, but I slammed down on top of her hand, causing her to drop it. I grabbed her and tried to strangle her, but she ended up body-slamming me into the ground. I got back up and turned to look at her, examining her mask and goggles. Then I ran at her again, but this time the assassin pulled out a knife.

<p style="text-align:left;">"HYA!" I kicked out and scored a direct hit to the attacker's groin. I then drove my fist right into the assassin's face. And the goggles fell off, revealing a rather beautiful pair of brown eyes. The girl slugged me in the ribs and I doubled over in pain.

<p style="text-align:left;">Only to have me upper-cut her chin and send the mask flying off, revealing the rest of the girl's face. It was then that I suddenly realized who I'd been fighting against. And seeing the teen's features was enough to make me throw up. The Red Wolf was actually the thought-to-be-dead German agent MeKenna Weida, only somehow she became a Communist supersoldier! "How did-?!" I stuttered.

<p style="text-align:left;">But MeKenna stared at me for a long time before saying in a rather threatening tone, "You knew this was coming, Liv!"

<p style="text-align:left;">My eyes went wide. "Liv...! How'd you know my name?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Because I'm the one who has been following you all this time," Kenna said, grinning.

<p style="text-align:left;">Then she heard sirens blaring and before any of us knew it, cops were yelling at us all, primarily at the supersoldier whom I'd realized was MeKenna Weida, the very person whom Ella claimed had been the one haunting her and assaulting her.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I started running at her again, punching her everywhere while MeKenna blocked the blows with the skill of a master fighter. The cops were yelling at us to stop fighting and for Kenna to surrender. One even cried, "Stand down or we will open fire!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Pretty soon, the LAPD were joined by SWAT FBI agents! "FBI!  Put your hands up!" One man screamed.

<p style="text-align:left;">Ignoring the shouts, I swung at MeKenna.

<p style="text-align:left;">But then she seized my arm and threw me to the floor, then pinned me down with her leg. "Listen here, nitwit.  The reason I know you is because I've been following you the past couple of months since you got here in this new time period.  And I'm here for a very important mission.  A mission that you, as well as your whole family, dread."

<p style="text-align:left;">I grabbed her foot. "What's your 'mission' that we dread?" I hissed.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Your sister," Kenna said rather coolly. "She's mine."

<p style="text-align:left;">"NO!" I struck out with my other arm, but she seized hold of that one too.

<p style="text-align:left;">"FIRE!" One of the cops screamed, but oddly the suit of armor repelled the blows. I then lunged forward and bit down on Kenna's free arm (not the cybernetic arm). She screamed and let go, allowing me to slug her right in the face and send her to the ground. I started running at my injured sister, screaming, "Ella!" I then stopped and looked at MeKenna, who was grinning before suddenly taking off into a run around the playground and then sprinted towards the slide where Ella was hiding.

<p style="text-align:left;">"No!" I heard Ella and her friend scream bloody murder. "No, please!"

<p style="text-align:left;">BANG! One of the cops abruptly shot MeKenna's exposed hand with a taser and she was on the floor, convulsing from the electric shocks. One FBI agent was evacuating Ella from under the slide and wrapping her in a blanket. The second I reached her, I stopped; Ella was sobbing and trying to push towards me, but was held back by the FBI. The cops soon had Kenna in handcuffs and were ushering her towards a waiting armored truck.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I cringed at first, but then saw that it was an FBI agent saying, "You okay, ma'am?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Um, yeah...I'm okay," I said.

<p style="text-align:left;">But then I looked at MeKenna again, as well as the assault rifle the cops were stowing away after putting it in a case labeled EVIDENCE.

<p style="text-align:left;">And the whole time, I thought to myself, Why does Kenna want my sister?

<p style="text-align:left;">

<h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 19: Hydra

<p style="text-align:center;">Twenty days later...

<p style="text-align:center;">Los Angeles, California

<p style="text-align:center;">October 29, 2000 (Alt. History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Ella had to be sent to the hospital for her gunshot wound, and I was being treated for damaged ribs, possibly because Kenna had been hitting me in the ribs hard before she'd driven her foot into my ribcage too hard. According to the doctors in the hospital, my ribcage was damaged both from the punches and from being pinned to the floor, but I was fine otherwise. During the recovery period, one question nagged at me: Why does MeKenna want my sister so bad?

<p style="text-align:left;">After I was completely healed, I had another weird thought: What if MeKenna was actually trying to get to me?

<p style="text-align:left;">Could that explain why she was on a mission that she claimed we all dreaded?

<p style="text-align:left;">This was all too confusing. However, I felt that it would be a good idea to lay low for a while and not worry about it.

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Chapter 18: We start a new war...by stopping an old one

<p style="text-align:center;">One year later...

<p style="text-align:center;">Days Inn, New York City

<p style="text-align:center;">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The Slayerz called it Operation Black September, but we called it Operation Rattlesnake. The plan was pretty straightforward and, frankly, it was pretty cool. We were to stop the September 11 Attacks by killing al-Qaeda operatives and destroying various major Middle Eastern airliners across the Middle East, for fear that al-Qaeda was putting undercover terrorists into the American population to kick off the old 9\11. The plan was divided into stages: Assassination of the Saudi Prince (Stage One), terrorist assassination plot (Stage Two), airline hijacking plot (Stage Three), and kill Osama bin-Laden (Stage Four).

<p style="text-align:left;">In the past few months, however, the first two plots had already been completed. The CIA and NSA both completed Stage One by killing Saudi Prince, al-Qaeda loyalist Abdullah Almadi. From what I'd been told, on September 8, 2001, CIA agent Jessical Reel sucessfully killed Almadi by planting a car bomb in his private vehicle while disguised as a tourist, sucessfully killing Almadi when the car exploded while en-route to a meeting in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. To kill members of the original 9\11 plot, Shadow Force was ordered to bomb airliners that carried the would-be hijackers, which all happened on September 9, of 2001. This suceeded, though Shadow Force and Cordis Die had almost been compromised trying to find the soon-to-be future hijackers (the whole stage was supposed to be launched undercover).

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Now we were ready for Stages Three and Four: Hijack six airplanes and crash them into Islamic holy sites across the globe. The weird part about this was that Vladimir Makarov, in a stunning move ('cause I thought he was the bad guy), also decided to launch his own "war" against al-Qaeda, mostly because he lost family members during the actual 9\11 events and sought to avenge their deaths. Taking advantage of the situation, Korey had us all disguise ourselves as Arabs, Germans and Russians, which was kind of weird since Makarov was a Russian.

<p style="text-align:left;">The answer, according to Korey, was that Makarov actually did have Arabs in his Inner Circle. Most of them, however, were Muslim apostates who left the faith and ended up absorbing the ideologies of Makarov. They ended up joining HYDRA, much to the outrage of Osama bin-Laden, who decided to target HYDRA in his war in the name of Islam.

<p style="text-align:left;">However, Makarov had already targeted him first.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">Last night, we'd reviewed plans for the attacks (which took months to complete, mind you) and the results were kind of creepy. I was to lead a team of five hijackers, including myself, Jason Bourne (who warped himself into the real world with the Time Bridge after somehow hearing about our operation in his own world), Stitch, Logan, Tommy Cheng, and Katie Winslow and hijack a Saudi airline called Saudia Flight 570 and crash it into the Kabba in Mecca, Saudi Arabia.

<p style="text-align:left;">Nathaniel Winslow (Katie's bro), Sam Coonz (my bro), AJ Nantz, Blake Baker, and Farid (an Arab dude from Call of Duty: Black Ops II, who warped himself into our world after receiving a job offer from us in his homeworld) were to hijack control of United Airlines Flight 93 from Newark, Pennsylvania to Los Angeles, California, and fly it to New York City, New York. There, they were to let all the passengers disembark and announce to the American public that the US government wanted Osama bin-Laden's crony Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. I was also to declare that if Mohammed was not surrendered within the next few hours, we would crash additional planes into various other targets. In addition to us, other Slayerz members were recruited to hijack several other airplanes and crash them into Muslim holy sites if our demands were not met.

<p style="text-align:left;">Meanwhile, we were tasked with hijacking an oil rig, which was pretty random, but Korey Hogan insisted.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Two minutes later...

<p style="text-align:center;">American Airlines Flight 11

<p style="text-align:center;">September 11, 2001 (Alt. History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Audrey Hoving

<p style="text-align:left;">My passport photo did a pretty good job of capturing my blonde hair and brown eyes. Apparently, we-the Slayerz and Shadow Force-were divided into five-man teams. My squad included Sadye Weible, Elizabeth Johnson, Ben Hoving, William Hoving, and myself, and our mission was to kill the hijackers aboard the plane at the appropriate time (something I abhorred), hijack control of the flight, and then crash it into the Sears Tower in Chicago, Illinois. The reason was that al-Qaeda sleeper cells were planning to turn the building into a forward operating base in order to foresee future Islamist attacks-all while the terrorists themselves disguised themselves as regular employees over there.

<p style="text-align:left;">As we boarded the flight, I noticed that Ben Hoving and Wililam Hoving were all good at keeping a straight face, but I didn't. I was absolutely opposed to crashing airplanes into buildings for the sake of killing terrorists and innocent people all at the same time. I mean, I could understand that we were disguised as HYDRA operatives, but still the idea of killing fellow Americans under the disguise of Germans and Russians and Arabs disgusted me.

<p style="text-align:left;">But Liz Johnson insisted that we went through with it, so I felt like we had no choice.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">As I sat in row 9D, right behind Mohammed Atta, Liz Johnson sat in row 29C. Ben sat in Row 9D and Will sat in 9G. Sadye sat in row 3A, right next to the big bad himself, Wail Alshehri. I took out the seating chart for United Airlines Flight 175 and looked at it as I sat down in my seat. Apparently, United Airlines Flight 175 was to be hijacked by another five-man team, this one consisting of David "Hesh" Walker, John Price (from the Modern Warfare Series), John "Soap" MacTavish (also from the Modern Warfare series), Howard Stivey, and Mason Davidson.

<p style="text-align:left;">Mason had been instructed to sit in Row 5B, with Howard next to him in Row 5A. In Row 7D, Soap MacTavish was to sit next to Hesh in Row 5A. In Row 9B, John Price was to sit with a woman named Lisa Frost in Row 22A. In Row 22F, a guy named James Roux was supposed to occupy his seat, but for some unknown reason he was unable to make it, so Price graciously took his place instead. I don't know why he'd ended up in the back of the plane, but my gut told me it was for security reasons.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:left;">At 7:45 AM, we'd taken off and we were now waiting for the perfect moment to strike against Mohammed Atta and his cronies (which, like I said before, was something I hated because it involved killing the hijackers, even though I'm more of a negotiator instead of a killer).

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p style="text-align:center;">Two minutes later...

<p style="text-align:center;">United Airlines Flight 175

<p style="text-align:center;">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">John Price

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">I'm a die-hard anti-Islamic guy, just so you know. I held a grudge against Islamic extremists, but killing them seemed a little too over the top. Oh, well. This was an operation against Islamic terrorism after all. I was sitting next to this woman named Lisa Frost. Lisa had dark brown hair and apparently she also had hazel eyes. She was twenty-two, way below my age of fifty-three. Frost was flying to San Francisco for a new job she was going to get next week. I felt much different than her; if only I could just forgo the operation and act like this was a vacation or something. Well, I knew that it wasn't a vacation.

<p style="text-align:left;">I was to kill the Arab hijackers, hijack the flight and crash it into a rather large building-the Sears Tower in Chicago after al-Qaeda terrorists decided to convert it into a rather large terrorist hideout-and kill the terrorists inside. I loved the idea; it was simply brilliant. However, killing Americans seemed a bit over the top. I wanted to land this plane at an airport, let the Americans disembark, and then re-take off to strike the Sears Tower. Korey Hogan said there wasn't enough time for that (the attacks had to occur without a delay). However, I insisted, so Korey eventually agreed. But something told me that he should've done the same to the other flights, just so they wouldn't be flown into civilian targets with Americans still on board.

<p style="text-align:left;">To heck with it, I soon thought resolutely. If we're the only ones doing this, then by all means!

<p style="text-align:center;">

Chapter 19: Deep and Painful
<p style="text-align:center;">Two hours earlier...

<p style="text-align:center;">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p style="text-align:center;">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Alyssah Diez

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The flight attendant ahead of me got me hungry for action and that made me realize that it was time for us to begin. I looked at Aaron Cross (from The Bourne Legacy movie) and started smiling. Oddly, Nick Blocker, Anna Gulledge, and Luke Hopkins also started grinning.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Are we good to go?" Nick asked impatiently. I just stared up ahead and waited for the flight attendant to leave my line of sight.

<p style="text-align:left;">And then, I jabbed my finger forward and said, "Green light on Team One! Move, move!"

<p style="text-align:left;">Nick tapped Luke on the shoulder and they both jumped up, screaming, "Hail HYDRA," while running at the flight attendant, who started screaming.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hail HYDRA!" Aaron sprang from his seat and brought out his suppressed Sig Sauer P226 pistol. The passengers all started screaming and Aaron shot an air marshal through the head with his pistol.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hail HYDRA!" Anna Gulledge grabbed her knife and slashed one flight attendant's throat while I just got up and walked towards the cockpit door. When I looked back, Nick and Luke began grabbing people and yanking them out of their seats, herding them towards the back of the airplane.

<p style="text-align:left;">"You, move!" Nick ranted. "All of you, move! Get up! C'mon, you nitwits! Move it!"

<p style="text-align:left;">The passengers all got out of their seats in a panic and started fleeing to the back of the aircraft. Those already in the back began fleeing to the very back of the aircraft and I could even hear someone praying in Arabic. But later, Aaron Cross and I began walking towards the cockpit door. I knocked on the door and then, as the pilots openeted it, jumped the pilots.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Hail HYDRA!" Aaron screamed and slashed the First Officer's throat. I just marched up to a surprised captain and sent my fist right into the dude's face, and then slashed his thraot.

<p style="text-align:left;">"Anna, get over here!" I squealed. Nodding, Anna Gulledge retreated to the cockpit and assisted me in hauling the dead pilot out of the cockpit. Aaron dragged the body of the First Officer to the cockpit door and I immediately seized control of the airplane. Switching off autopilot, I pulled the yoke up and the airplane  began climbing a couple hundred feet before I began pressing more buttons on te dashboard. Then I throttled up the plane, inciting a cacaphony of screams from the back of the airplane.

<p style="text-align:left;">I turned to Anna GUlledge, who was next to me. "Is the GPS running?"

<p style="text-align:left;">"Yeah, you're good," said Anna. "Let's just get this over with and crash this thing into wherever the Boss wants it!"

<p style="text-align:left;">I nodded. Then I began tinkering around with the GPS system until I found the target: the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem, Israel. "Let's roll guys," I said as I turned the flight around towards Jerusalem.

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">American Airlines Flight 11 <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">September 11, 2001 (Alt. History) <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Audrey Hoving <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I received a text message from Korey Hogan, which stated that the hijacking of Egypt Air Flight 175 was successful. It was time for us to hijack control of our flight and demand that al-Qaeda stay off our backs.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“You ready?” I asked them. “Remember, guys, we’re not killing anyone, except for the hijackers. Everyone else lives.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I could hear Sadye groaning. “I wanted to crash this thing into a Muslim terrorist hideout,” She muttered.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I ignored her and said, “Okay, guys. Let’s do this.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">And then, I jumped out of my seat, yelling, “Hail HYDRA!”  Running at the Arab dude-Mohammed Atta-I slashed his neck while Liz and Sadye pulled out suppressed pistols and popped his cronies through the heads.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Everyone sit down!” I squealed. “Be quiet and you won’t get hurt!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">One of the passengers-a guy-tried to get up and interfere with the attack, but I ended up dousing his face with pepper spray. “Nobody move,” I cried. “Sit down and you won’t get hurt!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Suddenly, Sadye grabbed the guy I pepper sprayed and squealed, “You, move!” She then threw the guy out of his seat and forced him towards the back of the airplane.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Sadye, wait-!” I cried, but she just kept on going. The passengers further back, out of blind panic, fled to the back of the airplane, along with the people near the cockpit door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Stink,” Liz muttered. “Since when did Sadye get this idea?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“I don’t know,” I said. “But let’s just get this over with, okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Ben pulled out a knife and was already heading towards the cockpit door, with Will right behind him. “Stink,” I muttered. “What are those two guys doing?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">But then, the next few moments were pure chaos. Ben put a door-breaching charge on the cockpit door and blew it wide open, and then rushed into the cockpit with a Beretta PX4 pistol in his hand.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Get this plane on the ground!” Ben began ranting. “Now! Take this plane down! Get us back on the ground now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Ben, don’t-!” I squealed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Down, down! Take it down now!” Ben kept on ranting rather angrily. “Get us back to the airport now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">However, the pilot just grunted angrily. “Take it down!” I heard Ben scream one final time.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">But the captain didn’t budge, so Ben ended up shooting the guy through the head. I cried, “Ben, no! That wasn’t part of the plan!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Ben just put his pistol to the head of the First Officer and said, “Take this plane back to the airport now, or you die!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Ben, don’t!” I argued. “We’re not cold-blooded murderers! Just don’t shoot anyone, okay?!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Take it down, now!” Ben squealed. But just like the pilot, the First Officer didn’t budge.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">He just screamed, “No,” and throttled the plane up again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Ben gave the guy a look that told me he wanted to blow the man’s brains out and disobey orders just as he’d done earlier. But something about my stern look somehow made him finally change his plan, albeit slightly reluctant about it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Do it for the mission, okay?” I barked at him. In response, Ben grabbed my pepper spray and ended up blasting the First Officer’s face with it!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:left;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF66FF">“Help me out here,” Ben said, hauling the incapacitated First Officer out of his seat. The minute Ben got the dude off the controls I seized hold of them immediately.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF66FF">“Turn off autopilot,” Will barked. “Turn it off, now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF66FF">“Okay, okay, I get it,” I said and switched off the autopilot. Then I stared at Ben, who was dragging the dead pilot out of his seat and taking his spot at the controls, with Will Hoving right behind him. “Close the door!” I told Will.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF66FF">Promptly, Will sealed the door shut and I looked at the map that Ben was holding. He looked up at me. “All right, Audrey, turn this guy around.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF66FF">I nodded and turned the plane around towards John F. Kennedy International Airport.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Meeting Makarov

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I got to meet Vladimir Makarov, one of HYDRA’s top agents, which was kind of weird considering the fact that he was a bad guy from a video game, and that we were supposed to fake our loyalty to him or something. Makarov had black hair and differently colored eyes. One was blue and the other was green. I was told he had some kind of birth defect or something that gave him differently colored eyes. But I was clueless.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Vladimir Makarov was forty-seven, according to his dossier that I’d reviewed prior to the mission. He was born in Volgograd, Russia, on October 24, 1970. He had an average build, and he had a pretty notorious reputation. He had prior experience in the Soviet Army during the Cold War years, and his fierce reputation for using brute force to achieve his goals. Makarov seemed like a Russian masculine counterpart of me; we both had the tendency to be brutal monsters when it came to completing our missions. And we both liked to behave like we had authority over those we deemed to be weaker than us.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">It was just that Makarov was somewhat better than me at doing this, which made me jealous.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">During the operation, I had an alias. In fact, I was the only team member to have an alias. In addition to possessing an alias, I’d given myself an appearance makeover; I’d curled my hair, and then dyed it black, which was something I didn’t usually do.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">As for the mission, I thought hijacking an oil rig and taking control of its missiles in order to attack various different Islamic holy sites was pretty awesome. I just didn’t get why we had to fake our loyalties to Vladimir Makarov, of all people, to pull it off.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">We were inserted into the mission zone via speedboat. Our mission was to get aboard the oil rig, and then seize control of it, taking the crew hostage and seizing control of the missiles, which we were to use as weapons to target various different Islamic holy sites across the Middle East. In addition, we were disguised as HYDRA operatives in order to throw off the Middle Eastern authorities and make it look like there were only HYDRA members involved, and no American soldiers.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">The awkward part about this was that I got to get close and personal with Makarov, which kind of felt uncomfortable.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Katie Winslow

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">The boat ride was great enough, but the best part was talking to Makarov while we were en-route to the target. Vladimir seemed a bit surprised that a girl like me-someone with an average body build with a height of 5’3”-would actually be fighting alongside him, but I didn’t care. I always wanted to hijack an oilrig.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Vladimir was looking at me, with a rather determined look. Then he laid his eyes on the oilrig itself. It looked rather enormous, with a huge crane extending out into the water.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“There it is,” I said. “Who knew that hijacking an oil rig was going to be so much fun!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“I apparently already knew about this rig’s existence long before you did,” Makarov said with a smile. “I was told the missiles could reach as far as Iran, or maybe even Syria.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“Hey, just don’t toast Israel, okay?” I asked. “Well, at least not the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Vladimir laughed. “I have no interest in Judaism, comrade. Only Islam-related structures.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“Yeah, like you’re going to launch a long-range missile at the al-Asqa Mosque,” I said sinisterly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">And then, Makarov handed me an M4A1 with an EOTech holographic sight and a grenade launcher. “You ready?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">I nodded. “You know it, buddy.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Makarov then took one good look at the oil rig and said, “ <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Si nami bog <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">. Remember…No Arabic.”

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Fall of Islam

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">  <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Katie Winslow

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">After grabbing my CZ-805 assault rifle and M4A1 grenadier, I was ready for some action. Makarov took the lead, running up the stairwell and suddenly shouting at the oilrig personnel in English. “Get down on the ground,” He started raving. “Hands up! This is a hijack!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">In order to help Makarov get his point across, I raised my M4 up in the air and fired it skyward, sending oilrig personnel running and screaming, all while we began firing at the oil platform’s security guards, which were running out with guns blazing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Makarov turned to me. “I’m heading downstairs to capture the security office. Anya, take Yuri and secure the captain’s quarters! And take no prisoners. Everyone dies!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“Copy,” I said, and then I looked at Logan, AKA Yuri. “C’mon, let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Logan Walker

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Hijacking an oilrig wasn’t really my area, but apparently I liked the idea anyway, possibly because it involved blowing stuff up and fun things like that. So I really didn’t care about explosions.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">All I cared about was destroying something.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I turned to Katie. “How’re we going to be doing this?” Katie, AKA Anya, thought for a moment while she stopped and leaned back against a wall. She was trying to think of where the captain’s quarters were. And then, she started beaming.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I got it,” She said, and she went down a long narrow hallway leading to a small room.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">There was Arabic writing on the door to that room, which Katie somehow was able to understand. She looked at me and smiled. “There’s the captain’s cabin. Let’s go, Logan.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Wait,” I said. “What?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">But then I shrugged and made a run for the door, with Katie. I said to her, “Didn’t the boss instruct us to take the captain alive?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Katie shook her head. “Nope. We kill everybody, Yuri. Even the captain must die.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I brought out my Daewoo K7, a submachine gun with an integrated silencer, and nodded. Then Katie kicked the door open and aimed her own Daewoo K7 at the personnel inside.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Everyone put their hands up!” I cried in a fake Russian accent. “Now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">The captain of the oilrig put his hands up in surrender, begging us in both Arabic and English, “Please don’t shoot us! Take whatever you want, but just don’t shoot us!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“DIE!” Katie squealed, and then unloaded her K7 into the captain’s body.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">The other crewmen tried to pull out their own weapons and return fire, but I promptly gunned them down too with my own K7. Then I said in my comms, “Crew quarters secure.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Copy,” said Makarov. “Now find the control panel and seize control of the missiles!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I stared at control panel to my right, which had lots of buttons and switches on it. Katie and I looked at each other before scanning the keypads. “It’s all in Arabic,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I know,” said Katie. “Let’s just find the big red button that says ‘FIRE’ and launch these suckers into the air.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Suddenly, the screen lit up and a message said, <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Beware of possible intrusion: One aircraft has hit the Dome of the Rock <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Looks like Gulledge’s guys successfully struck the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem,” I said. Then I found the big red button that allowed us to fire missiles at other targets.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Katie was tampering with a computer, trying to find a suitable target to blow to bits and pieces.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">And then, she selected the Al-Asqa Mosque, also in Jerusalem, and the Kabba in Mecca. “I got it, Logan,” She said. “Fire!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Firing now,” I said. Then I stabbed my finger towards another button, without even thinking about which button was located in which place.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Instead of hitting FIRE, I hit AUTOTARGET instead. I looked at Katie and groaned. “Oops.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“What have you done?!?” Katie went nuts over me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I, uh, pressed the ‘auto target’ button,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“You weren’t supposed to do that!” Katie cried.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">But then her expression changed; the missiles automatically locked Islamic holy sites across the Middle East on.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Oh, dear,” said Katie. “Targeting the Al-Asqa Mosque: locked. Targeting the Kabba: locked. Targeting the prophet Mohammed’s tomb in Medina: locked.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I cursed. “Holy smokes…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Estimated casualties: over twenty two million,” said Katie, looking up at the screen as casualty lists suddenly appeared.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">BOOM! The rig shook and Makarov cried, “This is Makarov to all units! We have missiles in the air! Repeat: missiles in the air! Well done, Yuri and Anya!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Wait,” I replied. “You don’t care what we hit, right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“ <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Da <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">, as long as it’s a Muslim target,” said Makarov. “Well done, comrades! This was a great success! Regroup on me on the top!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">We nodded and ran outside, where we could see Makarov and the rest of the assault squadron waiting for us. Makarov was beaming, but I noticed that Olivia was staring at another computer reading off another list in another room to our left

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Uh, guys,” She said. “I don’t think Yuri and Anya just targeted Islamic holy sites.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Makarov looked confused. “What do you mean?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Then he looked at the computer himself, as did the rest of us. Olivia looked at Vladimir and said, “They’re targeting military bases in North Africa, as well as the rest of the Arab world. We’ve got confirmed missile strikes on military bases in Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, Egypt, Lebanon, here in Somalia, parts of East Africa-I don’t understand.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“How many estimated casualties?” Makarov asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Olivia’s face turned pale. “Thirty million.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Makarov looked like he was going to go ballistic with anger. But instead, he started laughing. “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Another victory for HYDRA! Hail HYDRA!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Hail HYDRA!” We all chanted.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Okay, now let’s get out of here,” Makarov said. “I saw a helicopter on a helipad on our way here. It’s in the back of the oil rig.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Suddenly, security guards appeared, yelling at us in different languages. In response, Makarov pulled out his M4A1 grenadier and cried, “Weapons free! Take them all out!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I raised my own M4 and began launching grenades at the security guards while running down a hallway. Makarov cried, “Follow me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">  <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Katie Winslow

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Following Makarov, I gunned down the oilrig’s security guards with my M4A1 grenadier, while the rest of the assault team followed closely behind me. I could hear AJ panting like a dog and Sam Coonz looked like he was going to have an asthma attack from running.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“Can…we…stop…?” Sam rasped.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“Keep moving,” Vladimir cried, rushing up a stairwell and gunning down the oilrig security guards. “There is the helicopter!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Looking ahead, I saw a Mi-24 Hind helicopter resting on the helipad, which Makarov promptly boarded. “Get inside, now!” I heard him barking.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">He threw the door open and we all piled into the helicopter. As we did, AJ rasped, “We sent a strong message with this attack, didn’t we?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">And then, the most extreme thing happened: Makarov said, “That was no message,” pulled out a Beretta M9 pistol and aimed it at Blake Baker, who promptly screamed, “NO!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">BANG! Makarov shot Blake through the head with his pistol and he fell to the ground, much to our surprise and disgust. Makarov turned back to me. “This is a message.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">As the helicopter lifted off, Makarov looked at Blake’s dead body. “The American thought he could deceive us. When they find that body, all of Islam will cry for war.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">“But why kill him?” I asked him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Makarov looked at me and just shook his head. “Understand, Anya: this is only the beginning.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

This is a message
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">United Airlines Flight 175 <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History) <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">John Price <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">Roach alerted me with a text message from Olivia Coonz, saying that her team had teamed up with my archenemy-Vladimir Makarov-and hijacked an oilrig, using missiles hidden on the rig to strike Islamic holy sites and military bases across the Middle East.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">I grinned. Then I muttered to myself, “We should do it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">Later, I looked at Hesh, who was looking at me and mouthing, “Shall we do it?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">I nodded and mouthed back, “Let’s do it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">Then he tapped Roach on the shoulder and they both sprang up, yelling, “Hail HYDRA!” I got up too, pulling out a Beretta 92FS pistol and attached a silencer onto the barrel. Later, I turned around and shot the nearest air marshal through the head.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">People screamed, but then others began reeling in fear after Roach pulled out a knife and slashed the throat of Hamza Al-Ghamdi, the guy in front of him. Hesh pulled out an Uzi submachine gun and unloaded it into the next Arab terrorist, Ahmed Al-Ghamdi.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">BANG! I followed Hesh and then shot a third Arab terrorist, Mohammed Al-Shehhi, through the head with my pistol.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">At the same time, Roach opened up his jacket and pulled out a pair of Taurus Raging Judge revolvers while yelling, “Hail HYDRA!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">“You, get up!” Hesh screamed, grabbing a random passenger and yanking him out of his seat, forcing him towards the back of the airplane. He did the same to another passenger, only he began punching the man to get him to move.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">I grabbed a random woman and cried, “You, move! All of you, move! Move! To the back! To the back! Move!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">In a panic, the passengers all began fleeing towards the back of the aircraft, and one screamed, “They’ve got guns!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">Another passenger was raving, “Don’t stop! Go, go!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">Pulling out a Daewoo K7 submachine gun, I gave it to Hesh, who began herding passengers to the back of the aircraft with Soap MacTavish, who had a Tavor TAR-21 assault rifle out and was actively jabbing it into passengers’ backs to make them move to the back of the aircraft. Roach then turned to me. “Let’s get inside the cockpit.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">I grabbed a flight attendant and cried, “Open the door. Open the door and no one will get hurt.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">United Airlines Flight 175

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">John “Soap” MacTavish

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">“To the back! To the back!” I was raving. “Move it, all of you! C’mon, move!” The passengers promptly began sitting down and some of them threw their hands up in a surrendering gesture. I looked at Hesh, who was holding his TAR21 on a flight attendant.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">“You, sit down!” Hesh cried. Then he began waving his TAR21 around towards random passengers, who were screaming in terror. “Sit down! Sit down and you won’t get hurt!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">I jabbed my own K7 into the back of a flight attendant. “Sit down or be killed! It’s your choice!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">I looked back at Hesh and asked, “How are Price and Roach doing?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">“I’ll go see,” said Hesh and then he was gone.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">I took my stance in the back of the aircraft and said, “All right! All of you sit down or else I shoot!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">United Airlines Flight 175 <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History) <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">John Price 

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF">  

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">“Do it!” Roach squealed. The flight attendant I was holding squirmed and I had to pin her to the door to the cockpit. Leaning into her ear, I tried to peer through the viewing window in the cockpit door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">But I couldn’t see anything.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">So I whispered instead, “Do it or I’ll cut your throat!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">Finally, the flight attendant obeyed. We all rushed forward and began attacking the pilots. One of them cried, “Mayday! Mayday! Intruders-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">I cut the man off by shooting him. Roach pulled out a suppressed Glock 18 machine-pistol and unloaded it into the First Officer’s head, while I unbuckled the First Officer’s corpse and dragged him out of the cockpit.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">While Roach helped me out, I took a glimpse back at the flight attendant from earlier, which was breaking down into hysterics.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">BANG! I put a bullet through her head to put her out of her misery.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">Once Roach was done moving the dead bodies of the pilot and first officer, he promptly seized control of the airplane, as did I.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">“Darn it,” I heard Roach muttering. “How do you steer these things?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">Then I heard him flipping a switch and pressing a button. Moments later, he was gripping the yoke of the aircraft like his life depended on it. His palms started sweating.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">“Keep it steady,” I said. “Do what I do, Roach. Do what I do, okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">Then I took the controls on the right side of the aircraft, all while staring at the airplane’s transponder. I took the headset from the dead pilot and took it with me to the cockpit, while Roach did the same with the headset of the First Officer; only he put his headset on when he got inside the cockpit.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">“This is going to be fun, mate,” I said. Then I began tampering with a few more buttons before throttling the airplane up.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#6666FF; mso-bidi-font-style:italic">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">United Airlines Flight 175

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">John “Soap” MacTavish

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">The aircraft suddenly lurched, and passengers began screaming while Hesh and I toppled to the floor like dominos. “Hail HYDRA!” I barked while I staggered back to my feet. I managed to stand up, only to fall back down again as the aircraft made a sharp dive downward, and then rose upward again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">The passengers around me were screaming, both at me and at Hesh. Hesh muttered, “This would’ve been more fun if my brother Logan was here.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">I just ignored him, just as the aircraft stabilized itself. We both got up and I began waving my gun at the passengers again, barking, “Everybody shut up, all right? Now, listen! We do not wish to harm you! We have a bomb! We’ve taken control of the aircraft! So sit down and don’t move, or else we’ll kill everybody!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">“Hail HYDRA!” Hesh cried, turning towards the cockpit door, and then at me. “Soap, stay here and keep them from trying anything stupid. I’m going to check on Roach and Price.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">Then he was gone, with the curtain closed behind him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">

<p style="text-align:left;"> <h3 style="text-align:left;">Life as an extremist

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:14.0pt;margin-left:.1in;text-align:center;text-indent:.5in; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:olive">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Let me ask you something, Penelope,” said Makarov as the helicopter began flying off towards God knew where. “Do you believe that the entire world is a battlefield?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I looked up at him in surprise. “No. Why do you ask?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Vladimir looked off into the ocean and said, “It looks that way to me.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“It does?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Osama Bin-Laden,” Vladimir said. “My Islamic counterpart. I am not technically anti-American, not like he is. However, I do feel that this world-how do you say it?-already has men like him.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“What do you mean?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Vladimir thought for a moment. “Let’s just say my views toward the American system of government, as well as the American stereotype, are not exactly the same as his.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Really?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Bin-Laden accused the Americans of using innocent people as products,” said Vladimir. “Personally, I think the Americans don’t exploit their fellow citizens. Only someone like bin-Laden would say things like this.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Yeah, but they cut off the hands of thieves,” I said. “And they kill people that insult Mohammed.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Vladimir looked at me, arms folded across his chest. Then he looked at me, all with an expression of ice-cold bitterness, of hatred, of resentment. “Islam is a barbaric religion,” He said. “The Muslims always claim that their Qu’ran is the result of divine revelation and they accuse all other books-the Christian Bible and the Jewish Torah-of being corrupted, whereas you Christians and Jews are the opposite. You accuse <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">them <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">of possessing corrupted books, and accuse their god, Allah, of being a fake.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I took a deep breath. “Do you resent Christianity?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“No,” said Makarov. “I do not resent Christianity. I admire it, for I believe it is more formal, more in line with the idea that there is one God, though you claim He has a Son and that by believing in His sacrifice for humankind, you are saved.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I laughed. “You remind me of my parents. They’re Presbyterian Christians.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Makarov turned to me. “My father and mother were all Anglican Christians, but I never embraced their faith myself. Their God didn’t become mine. But I respected their beliefs.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“You’ve never received Christ as your Savior?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Makarov shook his head. “Never trusted Him. Never thought He was even loving.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I suddenly thought to myself out of pure randomness, <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Did he suddenly give up religion for a reason?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Then I asked Makarov, “Did something made you stop trusting Christ?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Makarov nodded. “ <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Da <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">. One time in my childhood, during a missions trip in the United States, my sister was assaulted and gang-raped by a bunch of people claiming to be Christians, but they were actually part of a cult called Jehovah’s Witnesses. I never knew Christians could sometimes be so cruel, so unforgiving, so willing to let things like this happen. The church congregation was baffled. <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica"> was baffled. Ever since then, I was thinking, ‘If God was so loving, why would He let a bunch of hypocrites rape my sister?’”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">I suddenly felt sorry for the guy. “I’m sorry.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Ever since then, I always thought Christians couldn’t be trusted, that God couldn’t be trusted,” said Makarov. “That’s why I never liked religion shoved down my throat. However, I’ve always been told about God’s grace and all. I’ve read the Bible heavily during my childhood, but during my teen years I stopped.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Just because a bunch of Jehovah’s Witnesses cultists raped your sister?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Makarov nodded. “Ever since then, I’ve been seeing things differently. I’ve been thinking of looking for alternatives to look at things in life. Ever since then, you could say that God and I-our relationship was strained.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Strained?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Makarov nodded. “Stretched to the breaking point. Like I said before, I barely trusted God anymore.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Before I could say anything more, Katie tapped my shoulder and said, “John Price’s guys are already about to hit their target.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“And?” asked Makarov.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Teams three and four are about to make their entry into the stage,” said Katie. “And John Price’s guys have hit their target.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">“Already?” asked Makarov.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Katie nodded. “Yep.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:14.0pt; margin-left:.1in;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">

Target: Osama bin-Laden
<p style="text-align:center;"> Three hours later… <p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Alyssah Diez

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">For some reason, I’d decided to change my mind and stop hitting the Dome of the Rock after I’d learned of someone launching missiles at it instead. Instead I’d decided to fly this guy over to Pakistan, where bin-Laden was, and crash the aircraft into Bin-Laden’s hideout.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Anna Gulledge looked like she was going to oppose, but in the end she agreed. “Osama bin-Laden’s got to die,” I said. “No doubt about it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Suddenly, someone started rattling the door. Anna turned and opened it to find…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Nick Blocker.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“There’s an unwanted passenger on board,” said Nick. “We fear it’s a stowaway. She’s a female assassin with a suit of armor and a bionic arm. She wears a mask and she calls herself Assassin X.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“She calls herself Assassin X?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Nick nodded. “And the passengers have all rallied up behind Assassin X. They’re talking together.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“What should we do?” I asked. “If they’re planning something, an attack or whatever-?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“And there’s another unwanted passenger, and this one’s called Lilith,” said Nick. “Lilith from Babylonian mythology.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">I gasped. “The demoness that kills children?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Anna nodded. “Somehow she’s transformed herself into some kind of fighter. You know, like a vigilante.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Is she in on this retaliation plot too?” I asked Nick.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Yeah, they’ve been talking about it for quite some time now,” Nick said. “They started, like, twenty minutes ago.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Anna closed the door and sat back down. I muttered, “Darn. We’re all dead.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“How much longer ‘til we reach Bin-Laden?” Anna asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Uh, ten minutes,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Ten minutes!” Anna almost went ballistic. “We can’t keep going for twenty minutes, Allie! C’mon!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“The airplane cannot go any faster than this,” I cried. “Get a freaking grip on yourself, Anna. If those passengers try anything funny, I’ll crash this aircraft myself.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:teal">One minute later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:teal">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:teal">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:teal">Lilith

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:teal">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">My name is Lilith, and I’d been planning a counterattack against the hijackers of this flight for the past few hours. My brown-haired, brown-eyed supersoldier apprentice-Assassin X-had been helping out too. It was a good thing I had her on my side, because she had superhuman strength, enhanced reflexes, and enhanced stamina.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">She could weather the toughest of blows and still fight. As for why she normally wore goggles and a mask, I’d recommend you not ask about that. Simply put: the only time my apprentice wore a mask and goggles was when she was in the field, actively fighting.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">After an extensive counterattack preparation, we were ready to fight back against the hijackers. My Assassin X was not only a super-powerful fighter, but she was also a pilot. That explained why she’d been elected to help fly the aircraft to the ground after we retook it from the hijackers on board.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">It was now time to pull off the attack; I looked around, sensing that the other hijackers were antsy and talking amongst themselves. I grinned; we were going to succeed in this passenger counterattack.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">For real.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">“Hey!” The knife-toting brown-haired hijacker barked. Then he headed back towards the front of the aircraft. I turned to Assassin X, who’d helped the passengers prepare a food cart that we’d planned to use to break into the cockpit door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">I got up again, watching the hijacker disappear, and then turned to the other passengers. “Okay, let’s roll.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:teal">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Assassin X

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Let’s go,” I heard Lilith muttering. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">I turned and noticed that some of the other passengers were muttering impatiently in various different languages. Then I looked at Lilith once again, and she nodded. “Let’s move!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">She began walking rather slowly, as if casually strolling or something. I sensed that she was waiting for the perfect moment to unleash the “Zurg Charge”, a tactic I’d heard of on the Internet where multitudes of bad guys rush at the enemy headlong in a full-blown assault.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Just when I thought Lilith would continue walking casually down the aisle, she suddenly broke into a full-blown sprint down the aisle, with the rest of us charging down the aisle after her. I could see Lilith take out a knife and scream, “Onwards!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Let’s go!” Someone else barked. “Let’s get them!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Alyssah Diez

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Is there something?” I asked, noticing the sudden commotion coming from the back of the aircraft. “A fight?”  Anna Gulledge looked at me, clueless.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">That was when the inevitable truth hit me: the passengers, led by that jerk-off demoness Lilith, were trying to launch a full-blown assault on the cockpit to prevent us from killing Osama bin-Laden.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“They want to get in here,” I said. “Hold. Hold from the inside, guys. Hold.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“They’re getting closer,” said Aaron. “Allie, you might want to do something to throw them off balance.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“I know just the thing,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Then I yanked the plane hard right while screaming, “Hail HYDRA!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Assassin X

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">The plane suddenly lurched hard right, and I felt a thousand people toppling to the ground like dominos. Lilith crashed into a seat, just as the aircraft violently lurched hard left, and then hard right again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">And then, the aircraft finally stabilized, allowing us to continue our assault on the cockpit. I turned to the people behind me, and they cried out, “Let’s get them!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Lilith got to her feet first, and she was raving, “To the cockpit!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Let’s get them!” I suddenly barked. I turned and saw the food cart being steadied, and then we saw the hijacker guarding the cockpit door; he looked as if he was going to run at us and stab us with a knife or something.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Lilith acted faster; she grabbed a container of hot water and began dousing the guy with hot water, scalding him long enough for the rest of us to dogpile him and pin him to the floor, while Lilith gave him a blow to the head with the hot water container.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">POW! I was soon beating the man on the head with a coffee mug that I’d grabbed off the food cart, and pretty soon he was dead.

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Alyssah Diez

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">I began searching the hills of Pakistan for any sign of Osama bin-Laden’s hideout, while Anna Gulledge and Aaron Cross kept their eyes on the cockpit door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Let her look through the window,” I said to Aaron. “Let her look through the window.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">BANG! Pretty soon, a series of loud thumping sounds, which later began banging sounds, could be heard outside. Aaron turned to me. “Allie, we lost Nick! They’re at the cockpit door!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Hold the door!” I barked. “Hold the door!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Shouts in Arabic and other languages soon became louder and more audible as the passengers continued their assault on the cockpit. I turned to Anna. “Is that it? Shall we finish it off?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Luke Hopkins looked at me and said, “Not yet, Allie. When they all come, we finish it off!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">BANG! Another sound of a heavy object hitting the cockpit door resonated through the cockpit. I said to Aaron, “Shall I put it down?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“No! Not now!” Aaron sounded rather frantic.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">BANG! The cockpit door buckled, and soon I heard an English voice shouting, “Grab the door!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“I’m injured,” A passenger started groaning.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“AAAAARGH!” I heard Aaron screaming as he tried to push against the passengers, whom I guessed were starting to tear at the cockpit door with their bare hands.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Let’s move!” A passenger from outside screamed. “In the cockpit! If we don’t get in there, we’ll all die!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Death to bin-Laden,” I muttered. “Death to bin-Laden!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Shut it down!” An Arabic voice shouted from the outside. “Shut it down, darn it!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Roll it!” Another American voice cried out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Death to Islam,” I muttered. “Aaron!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Death to bin-Laden,” Aaron muttered.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Another passenger was screaming, “One more! One more!” It was at this point that the cockpit door buckled again, and seemed to collapse. Moments later, I could see people’s hands reaching through the cockpit door and clawing at Aaron, who was trying to frantically push the cockpit door closed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">I repeated my earlier question to Aaron: “Shall I put it down?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Yes! Pull it down!” Aaron was raving. “Pull it down! Death to Islam!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">I stared at the controls. And then, without even giving it another thought, I yanked the yoke hard right and turned the plane upside down, while executing a steep and somewhat extreme nose-dive towards a random cave I saw out of the corner of my eye.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Shut them off!” A passenger cried. “Death to the Illuminati! Death to Marxism! Move! Go! Go!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Another voiced shouted in Arabic, “…Move!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">Then I cried, “Death to Islam!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“AAAH!” Aaron was yelling as the passengers broke down the door and started to attack him with knives and fire extinguishers. “Alyssah!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Cut off the oxygen!” I cried as the inverted airplane hurtled to the ground like a missile. “Cut off the oxygen! Cut off the oxygen! Cut off the oxygen!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Where is that button?!” I heard Anna scream.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“No, Anna, don’t!” I screamed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Not yet! Not yet!” An Arabic voice cried.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Shut them off!” An American voice barked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“ <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar! <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">” A cacophony of Arabic voices started yelling at the same time.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">As I sent the plane hurtling towards the ground, I heard one passenger scream, “Death to Marxism! Death to the Illuminati!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">The other passengers took up the cry. “Death to the Illuminati! Death to the Illuminati!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Aaron!” Anna cried, as the passengers suddenly overpowered poor Aaron, and then began launching a new attack, this time at me in order to get me off the controls.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Hey!” I cried.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“ <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">Allahu Akbar! <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:blue">” Another passenger barked in Arabic. “Move!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Move!” An English voice screamed. “No!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“NO!” An Arabic voice screamed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Push!” I heard someone-a female voice-scream. Then I felt myself pitching forward as a young woman with brown hair and brown eyes grabbed me from behind and that same female voice from earlier began yelling in both Russian and English. “Hey, hey! Give it to me! Give it to me! Give it to me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">“Give it to me!” I began screaming at the attacker.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:blue">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Egypt Air Flight 173

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Assassin X

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Give it to me! Give it to me! Give it to me!” I started yelling at the female blonde-haired hijacker at the controls. While I was fighting her, I was a bit surprised by her age; she appeared no older than the age of fourteen, and yet she was piloting an aircraft-no, sending an aircraft-to our apparent doom.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Shut them off!” I screamed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Death to bin-Laden! Death to bin-Laden! Death to Islam,” I heard the female hijacker pilot yelling randomly. “Death to Islam! Death to Islam! Death to Islam! Death to Islam! Death to Islam!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“NO!” I cried.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“Death to Islam!” The pilot continued yelling as the aircraft continued its suicide dive towards the ground. “Death to Islam!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">“NO! NOOOO!” I began yelling as someone slammed into my back and I felt myself hitting the dashboard as other passengers pushed and shoved their way towards the suicide pilot while yelling in different languages.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#FF0080">Then nothing.

End of bin-Laden
<p style="text-align:center;"> Somewhere off the coast of Somalia

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:center;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">September 11, 2001 (Alternate History)

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0in0in14pt0.1in;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:center;"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14pt;text-indent:0.5in;text-align:center;"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I got another text message from Korey Hogan stating that Egypt Air Flight 173 had crashed in an unknown location, somewhere in Pakistan.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Odd,” I muttered. “Did somebody manage to sabotage the hijacking attempt?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Moments later, Makarov tapped me on the shoulder. “Penelope, I just got word that Osama bin-Laden, that freaking junkie you call the Al-Qaeda terrorist leader, is dead.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“What?” I gasped. “Bin-Laden’s dead.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Some of our men killed him,” said Makarov. “By driving an airplane into his hideout, they say.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I stood petrified, then calmed myself while processing the information. Osama Bin-Laden was dead-killed by HYDRA operatives that crashed an airplane into his hideout.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I couldn’t help but grin; Bin-Laden got what he had coming to him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Suddenly, I heard something beeping and Makarov cried, “Incoming missile! Hang on!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BOOM! An explosion shook the chopper.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">And I went out cold.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Waking up
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">After time reset itself again…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">October 2, 1945 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">Katie Winslow

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">The helicopter crash had somehow opened up a wormhole that sucked us into a new timeline, this time to an alternate 1945-World War II-era Europe.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">In this timeline, we’d discovered, the Nazi Third Reich had succeeded in building “Miracle Weapons” to deliver the Reich from destruction, and this time Hitler intended to use them to turn the tide of World War II.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">As for ourselves, we’d survived the helicopter crash. However, we’d landed in a field, and we were mistaken for airplane crash survivors (they had no idea the debris was actually from a futuristic helicopter). From that point forward, we had been resistance members fighting the Nazis. Later, in 1945, we’d successfully raided a Nazi supply depot in France with the Free French Forces in the French countryside. However, French reinforcements sent to assist us in our escape ended up being captured along with us by the Nazis.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">They locked us in a large room in the death camp of Auschwitz (you may remember this camp from books about the Holocaust), and some of them even forced us to watch our comrades die, as the evil Nazi scientists cut them open and performed illegal human experiments on their corpses. It sickened us all, but Olivia’s sister Ella took the brunt of it; the experimentations left her both emotionally and mentally scarred. After the evil experiments, she’d be crying in her sleep, and even screaming. She even claimed to have nightmares involving an evil Nazi scientist coming to kill us all.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">A couple months went by, and on October 2 we’d decided to escape. With the help of our French colleagues, we’d successfully executed an escape from the Nazi death camp. However, when the Nazis had caught us, they’d tried to open fire and kill us. Miraculously, we’d survived, but with severe injuries.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">AJ and Sam had all suffered head trauma, and ended up in a hospital, just like me. However, the doctors had all thought we’d been brainwashed by the Nazis into becoming crazy lunatics because we all claimed to be from the future.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">And that explained why we were in an asylum.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 2, 1945 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My room in the asylum was just like a hospital room, with windows that weren’t barred like in prison camps. I apparently liked the place; the staff was all friendly and stuff like that. I felt scared for my brother Sam and my sister Ella, however. The last time I’d heard from Ella was a letter to me written by Ella herself, with a little help from other French resistance members who had successfully evaded Nazi capture. The note said that the French had moved her to the Nazi-occupied city of Kraków, Poland. From there, the Polish military had evacuated her and a bunch of other runaway child prisoners to England, where she was currently hiding in London.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I was relieved to hear that she was all right, but then I started worrying again. What if London fell to the Nazis and Ella was recaptured?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I shook my head, dreading the thoughts of London falling to Nazi Germany and Ella being recaptured, or even killed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">In the meantime, I got to know a new friend, a fellow inmate named Deidre Edwina Dillon. A rather young girl, Deidre looked fifteen, three years younger than me. However, we had similar facial features; my face was slightly freckled like hers, my hair was brown like hers, and my eyes were blue-green, like hers. She looked kind of like my twin, only younger.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Originally from New York City, New York, Deidre came with her family to vacation in Poland, when the Nazis came. They hauled her family off to the Nazi death camps and took her to a death camp in Dachau. She somehow managed to escape, but was sent to the asylum after being injured in a bomb explosion, which left her with a leg injury. Despite these events, however, Deidre kept one mission fresh in her mind: find a way to reunite with her parents, assuming they’d escaped the other death camps alive.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre and I got close during our time in the asylum, almost to the point where she and I were like sisters (well, we barely knew each other, but it seemed that we became sister-like buddies in less than two days).

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">However, there was one thing about Deidre that I didn’t know about, but that I’d overheard from the hospital staff: she and I were somehow…related. The only issue was that I looked too old to be her long-lost “sister” and she looked too young to be my long lost “sister”.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I decided to dismiss it as a rumor and just go with the fact that she was my new friend.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But the thought of her being my “long-lost sister” somehow…ate at me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Is something wrong?” Deidre asked innocently. “You look pale. What’s going on?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked at her and said, “I don’t know, Deidre. It’s going to be okay, though. I promise we’ll get out of here and we’ll go home. You’ll see your family again…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre suddenly began crying. “My-my family is-is probably d-dead-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No, they’re not,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “They probably got away, and made it to some free part of Europe, waiting for you, or news about you at least.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Are you sure?” Deidre cracked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I put a protective arm around the poor soul, whispering reassuring words, telling the already-shaken girl that her family would be okay, and that they were waiting for her when she got out of here.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But while I tried to soothe her, something told me that Deidre actually <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">was <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">related to me in some way.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I just couldn’t figure out the connection.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:green">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:green">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Fifteen years later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">October 2, 1960 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Sam Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The asylum wasn’t all that bad, actually. They had a cute twentysome-year old woman named Dubravka and her family of doctors running the place. They’d treat me like I was their most treasured possession, maybe even as their own son, even though the other Polish guys thought we were all lunatics brainwashed by the evil Nazis.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The awkward part was that Dubravka loved me, even though I was merely fourteen years old. I don’t know how it happened, but during my time in the asylum, she was the one thing that made me happy, which was odd considering the fact that I was from the future and she was from the past.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Olivia, on the other hand, was a different story altogether.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Eight days later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 10, 1960

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My mind had been all cloudy and I’d been feeling dizzy during my first few days in the asylum. We’d arrived in the asylum on October 1, 1945. And to be honest, it wasn’t all bad-except for random Nazi “cleansing raids”. Someone named Wilhelm Keller, a man who appeared to be thirty or forty years old with brown hair and blue eyes, would march into the asylum and announce that he was moving the inmates to a place “to serve the Third Reich.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But Dubravka, one of the nurses running the place, had told me one time that what the Nazis really wanted was to experiment on the inmates, and turn them into horrifying weapons of mass destruction.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Human weapons of mass destruction, to be more specific. The Nazis, from what I’d been told, would experiment on innocent humans-Jews, and Nazi traitors, as well as the elderly, and even young children-and systematically turn kill them.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Either that, or turn them into weapons of mass destruction enslaved by the Nazis, their brains programmed to kill their fellow innocent people “for the honor of the Reich.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I suddenly worried about Ella, my now-fourteen year old sister. Did the Nazis drag her off too? Was she experimented on? Did Nazis butcher her?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka would be telling us all that it’d be over soon; that we’d soon be able to go home.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But there was no home, not for us anyway.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">We were permanently trapped here, in an alternate history where the Nazis, for all we were concerned, had won World War II.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I was trapped here-with Deidre-in a Nazi-infested Europe.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"> <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">Nazi Monsters

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 10, 1960

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My room looked more like a jail cell than a hospital room; the windows were all sealed up with iron bars. But the asylum itself didn’t look all that bad; the doctors were doing whatever they could to take care of their patients, even though it seemed as if they were making their lives even more miserable than they really were.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But we were given at least some freedom; during the good days-those days where the Nazis wouldn’t march into the asylum and haul people off for evil experiments-we were allowed to eat together in the cafeteria and stuff like that. Mostly, however, we were kept in our rooms, with some of the patients paranoid about the next Nazi “cleansing raid.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">One day later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">October 3, 1960 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Sam Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I’d been sleeping like a baby for the past hour when the door suddenly opened. The Nazis stepped in, and that Nazi monster named Wilhelm Keller led them. However, I noticed something strange about these people: they weren’t wearing the normal gray or brown Nazi military outfits they normally wore.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“We are shutting the place down. Your services are no longer needed, Doctor,” He told the doctor, who immediately responded with a sad look.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“The patients…” I heard him muttering in English before saying in German, “I can’t leave them.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Keller suddenly faked being nice, which sickened me. “No need to be emotional. You have served your purpose brilliantly.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Then he turned to his men. “Proceed,” He said, before leaving the room, with the other Nazis following him.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">It was then, that the last Nazi soldier began displaying the ultimate act of horror. One female inmate screamed, and the German dude pulled out a pistol. My jaw dropped, as the German soldier shot the inmate through the head and killed her instantly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Monsters!” I almost screamed.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“No!” Someone screamed. “Help! Call the police!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Dubravka suddenly tried to attack the man who’d just shot the girl earlier, but the man smacked her in the face with the butt of his pistol and went down with a bloody nose. Her parents freaked, and they were soon on the defensive.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The doctor tackled the Nazi soldier and tried to wrest his gun away, while Dubravka’s mother tried to tend to her daughter.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">BANG! The Nazi managed to overpower the doctor and shoot the man dead.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">BANG! Dubravka’s mother went down in a pool of blood as well.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The other Nazis came back and one of them cried, “What happened? We’re not supposed to kill the hospital staff!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The Nazi with the pistol argued in German, but then one of the men pointed at the unconscious Dubravka, asking about her. The man seemed to be asking his commanding officer (I assumed that was what he was) what to do with her.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The Nazi said, “I don’t know. Take her to Keller. He’ll decide.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The other Nazi soldiers all nodded and began dragging Dubrakva away, just as she was coming to. She began screaming in Polish, but then screamed my name in English too. “SAM!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“No…!” I muttered as the Nazis took her away, leaving me helpless to watch.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The man who’d shot the hospital patients and the staff members dead suddenly began cursing loudly in German and overturning tables before finally pointing his gun at me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“No,” I hissed firmly. “Not me.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Then I leaped at him and slammed my fist into the man’s face. I grabbed the man, threw him over my shoulder and into the ground, then took his pistol and shot the man dead with his own weapon while muttering, “Nazi monsters.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I sighed; I’d had enough of the Nazis mercilessly abusing and killing people left and right.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I was going to fight back.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 10, 1960

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre screamed as gunshots rang from across the hall. I glanced at her, and then at the door ahead of me. I heard footsteps and suddenly Nazi soldiers in black uniforms marched in, led by a man named Wilhelm Keller. Sam had apparently heard of this guy; he was a brutal and vicious person who’d mercilessly killed innocent people time and time again as a Nazi lieutenant.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">And now, he was going to kill Deidre and I in one of his “cleansing raids”.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No!” Deidre was screaming. “No, no, no, no! Please, Olivia, don’t let him get me! Please don’t let him get me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I bravely stood in front of the poor girl, facing a rather surprised Keller. I glared at the man in anger, while Keller looked at me as if I’d shocked him; he seemed to be realizing that I was unlike any other patient in this hospital.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Most of the prisoners-including Deidre-were scared of him, and cowered at his feet, begging for mercy.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I, meanwhile, stood up to him as if I wasn’t afraid of him whatsoever.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I was even willing to fight back if I so desired.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Wilhelm said to me in near-perfect English, “You are a strong one. You are one of the very few prisoners here that does not fear me. I like you; such a resilient specimen, <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">ja <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">? With you, I could do great things!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">One of the soldiers walked up to a shaking Deidre and stroked her cheek as she openly sobbed. “I like this girl too,” He said. “She is a fresh one.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I hissed in an angry tone, “Don’t you freaking <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">touch <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica"> her!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I like your eyes,” Wilhelm said to her. “Deathshead will have a lot of fun with you, cutie.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My eyes went wide; Deathshead?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">We were trapped in the video game <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Wolfenstein: The New Order <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“P-please don’t hurt me,” Deidre whimpered. “Please!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“These two will serve the Reich perfectly!” Keller laughed, pointing at the two of us. “Take them! And make sure the older one is properly and securely restrained. With a body like that, she could possibly rip my eyes out!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">At that moment, I snapped.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Just as the Nazi commando was going to grab us and secure us with handcuffs, I suddenly swung out and kicked him in the groin. I swung out at Keller too, smashing him right in the nose.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The third Nazi commando grabbed a futuristic-looking Luger pistol from his holster, but I grabbed it, forced it to aim at his buddy (the man I’d disabled) and unloaded the weapon right into his body!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“AAAAH!” Deidre screamed bloody murder; she obviously had never seen anyone shot to death in front of her in full view like that in her life-regardless of whether that victim was a Nazi or a Jewish prisoner!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Nazi monsters,” I muttered, and then sent my fist down on the man’s arm, effectively breaking it! Keller grabbed a Walther P38 pistol and pointed it at me, while I aimed the captured pistol at him!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“You really are a strong one,” Keller laughed. “I really hate to kill you, but I will if you persist in such ill manners!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre looked at me and her whole body began shaking with fear.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Keller continued looking at me with an evil look…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BANG-BANG-BANG! I unloaded three bullets into Keller’s body and he convulsed briefly, before collapsing in a pool of blood.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Nazi monsters,” I muttered. “Shooting people who can’t defend themselves! Barbarians!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked at Deidre, and she began shaking while sobbing openly, “No! No, no, no, no…They’re gonna get me! The Nazis are out to get me! The Nazis are-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I grabbed her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Deidre, it’s okay! I killed him. I killed Keller. He won’t harm you now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“He-he mentioned a guy named Deathshead!” Deidre sobbed. “Olivia, who is Deathshead?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I shook my head. “I don’t know. But judging by his name, I assume he’s another one of those Nazi crazyheads like Keller was. But c’mon, honey. We have to get out of here, before more Nazis get here.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Diedre nodded and then instantly clung to me like an utterly horrified little girl, as I walked down the hallway. I muttered, “Sam, where’d they take you?” <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica"> <h3 class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align: none;text-autospace:none">Driven by Rage and Pain

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 10, 1960

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No one should be made to die like this,” I muttered. Then I turned to Deidre. “Follow me, okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre just nodded, and I stepped out of the room.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">That was, until…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">CRASH! I suddenly hit the floor, yelling and grabbing my head, which made Deidre scream. “Olivia, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Legs are like jelly,” I muttered. “Fingers feel numb. Mother of all headaches.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I’m scared,” Deidre whimpered. “Are you sick?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I-I’m fine,” I said breathlessly. “I just feel…out of sorts or something.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then I walked towards the doorway where the Nazis had entered, and peeked out from behind a corner. The immediate hallway was clear, but I could hear German voices shouting orders amongst themselves in other rooms. Pretty soon, another Nazi soldier appeared in the doorway.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Stay here,” I said quietly to an already-shaking Deidre, and then went outside. Taking out a knife, I ran at the German commando and plunged the knife deep into his neck.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Another German voice began barking orders and I could see two Nazis running in my direction.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BANG! BANG! I dropped them with my gun and turned back to Deidre when…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“AAAAH!” Another headache struck me and I went down screaming again, which sent Deidre running.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I-I should probably get-!” Deidre was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. “You’re going to be okay! Just-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No, I’m fine,” I protested. “Really, I’m fine! Just, don’t worry about me.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica"> I heard someone walking down the hall, which made us stand rigid. I held my breath, my pistol in my hand in case the person walking towards me tried to attack me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Who is-who is that?” Deidre stuttered.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Just stay here-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Suddenly, a leg smashed open the door to my left and I dove out from behind the wall, my pistol aimed at the intruder. I began muttering, “I’m gonna kill you…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">At the last minute, a voice made me stop cold. The voice barked, “Liv?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">And then, <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Katie <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica"> stepped into the hallway, an assault rifle in her hand. I almost gasped, but at the last minute I managed to retain my composure. “Katie…how did you get out?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Katie shrugged. “Some Nazis came into my room and tried to carry me off to the ‘Nazi slaughterhouses’, but I gave them a piece of my mind, with a little help of this gun I stole off of a dead Nazi.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Um, okay,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Suddenly, Deidre cried out, “Someone’s coming!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BANG! Another Nazi crashed through the door, as if some muscular guy had shoved him through. I tensed; it was my brother <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Sam <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Sam seemed a bit surprised to see me; I had blood on my hospital gown, on my arms, everywhere.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Blood was even in my hair.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“How’d you manage to get that messy?” Sam asked me a bit awkwardly. “Did you get into a fight with some Nazi jerk-off or something?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I nodded. “Let’s go, guys. These Nazis are really ticking me off.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">With Deidre behind me, I led everybody else down another narrow hallway, scanning every nook and cranny for Nazi soldiers. But so far, I hadn’t seen any.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Clear,” I said. “Let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">October 3, 1960 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Sam Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">The traumatized youngster following my sis looked at me and said, “Are you and Olivia related?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I turned and gave a rather awkward grin. “Yeah. I’m Sam Coonz, her younger bro. And who might you be?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“I’m Deidre,” She said quietly.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Katie gave Deidre a weird look. “You and Olivia look remarkably similar. Are you twins?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Deidre smiled for the first time since we’d first started killing Nazis. “Uh, that’s a really weird question, but I guess you could consider us twins. Olivia and I-we look almost exactly alike.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Except for your age, that is,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Yeah, and because of the fact that Olivia’s tougher than I am,” Deidre said a lot more quietly. “I get scared easily by loud noises, especially gunshots and explosions.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">BANG! Another door flew open and I raised my gun. “Stink,” I muttered. “Nazis incoming!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Soon enough, two-no, three-Nazi soldiers barged into the room with guns blazing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Fire!” Katie barked. “Fire!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG! I unloaded my fully automatic assault rifle into the trio of Nazis and Deidre began screaming as the bodies all crashed to the floor.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Jeez,” I muttered angrily. “You Nazis. Shootin’ folks who can’t defend themselves.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I headed down a narrow corridor and looked behind the corner.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">After seeing that the immediate area was clear, I turned to the others. “Let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">As we headed down the hall, I suddenly heard another voice screaming, “Nazi jerks! Die!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">I cringed; it sounded like <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">Logan <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#666666">!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“C’mon,” I said. “That has to be Logan! He must’ve made it outside!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Who’s Logan?” Deidre gave us all weird looks.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Liv grinned sheepishly. “Uh, he’s my boyfriend. We’re dating.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“How long have you been dating?” Deidre asked her.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">“Since…I don’t know,” Olivia said. “It’s complicated.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">BANG! I kicked open the next door, which led to a large courtyard with Nazis everywhere. I could even see a large car parked in the middle of a road, which seemed to be winding through a large series of hills.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">Suddenly, I spotted a blur of white and gray running across the field, firing a submachine gun at the Nazis. I screamed, “Logan!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#666666">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">October 3, 1960 (alternate history) Logan Walker

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Logan!” Sam’s unmistakable voice barked. “There’s Logan! C’mon, guys, let’s go!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I looked at Sam, and then continued blasting away the Nazis running at me from various corners, laughing. Killing Nazis was never this much fun. Okay, maybe killing Nazis wasn’t that <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">fun <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">, but still I found joy in it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I blew away the rest of the Nazi horde and turned to face Olivia when I noticed something weird; there was another girl-one that looked very much like Liv-standing next to my girlfriend. I was surprised to find that the two shared the same facial features and the same hairdo, the same eye color and all.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">But the only difference discernible was their height and age. Olivia was 5’6”, last time I checked. This other girl looked 5’4” or something.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">When Liv ran up to me, she said, “Logan, this is Deidre, who you may notice is a lot like me. Deidre, this is Logan, my date.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Deidre smiled awkwardly. “Hi.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Hi,” I returned. “Sorry for the messy clothing. I, um, butchered a great deal of Nazis on my way out here.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Deidre sniffled. “They’re everywhere, right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I didn’t reply, but instead I walked towards the abandoned car and looked inside, muttering, “What kind of Nazi jerk-off leaves a car out like this.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Then I grabbed a pair of car keys off of a dead Nazi and said, “I’ll drive.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">That’s when I noticed the injured and unconscious nurse on the ground next to me. I said to Sam, “Who’s that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Dubravka, the nurse,” said Sam. “We should, um, get out of here before the Nazis send backup. And bring her along too.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Any idea where we’re going to go?” Deidre asked us.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I just looked at the lady quizzically and said, “Anywhere but here, I guess.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica"> Fourteen years of Nazi Horror
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Five hours later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Somewhere in Poland

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">October 10, 1960

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"\0027";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Don’t ask me how we ended up at Dubravka’s grandparents’ place, but if you really want to know the full story, Dubravka suggested going her grandparents’ residence because she was thinking they could provide answers as to why and how the Nazis got so powerful they obtained powerful futuristic weaponry over the past couple of months.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">When we pulled into the residence, the grandparents welcomed us warmly, and they gave us clean clothes, food and water (which was a relief too, because I hadn’t had any drinks since we’d arrived at the asylum to begin with). Besides, I was happy to get out of that bloody hospital gown.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">After I’d changed, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled; my hair was all cleaned up, though it was still a slight mess. The blood on my arms was gone and my face never looked better.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The only thing that felt weird was wearing a gray shirt with a pair of gray pants. I wasn’t used to wearing gray clothes, which to me looked depressing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I normally liked bright and happy colors like red and green and blue and yellow.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ten minutes later, I was at a dining room table with the others-Sam, Dubravka, Deidre, Katie, and the grandparents. Dubravka looked at me and said, “It’s 1960.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked at her awkwardly. “1960? Are you kidding?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka shook her head. “You all stayed with us for fifteen years. It’s 1960.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Sam Coonz said, “We, uh, have to find a way to contact the US military. We have to find our unit, let them know we’re alive and ready to fight…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No, no, no,” said the elderly grandfather, a man with white hair and brown eyes who looked seventy. “There is no more war.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The grandmother, a woman with white hair and blue eyes, said, “It’s over. No more military.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked at the two grandparents confusingly. “The war isn’t over yet. Look at all these Nazis walking around!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“They won!” The grandfather argued.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s over,” said Dubravka’s grandma. “The Nazis rule the world now. They are everywhere. Everywhere.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Really?” I asked. “What about the United Kingdom?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka thought for a moment. “The United Kingdom-they…what’s the word?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“They surrendered,” said Dubravka’s grandma.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Sam looked as if he was going to go crazy with anger. “The British surrendered?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Because of the…atom bomb,” said Dubravka’s grandma.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“The United States surrendered twelve years ago,” said Dubravka. “The Nazis succeeded in developing miracle weapons and they brought down the United States with ease with weapons that defy nature. One of them was the atom bomb.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“The Nazis forced the Europeans to surrender with powerful miracle weapons?” Katie looked as if steam was coming out of her ears. “That’s insane! How could the Allies surrender so easily?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“They were outnumbered,” said Dubravka. “The Nazis dominated over the United States in terms of firepower. They destroyed many cities along the eastern and southwestern United Kingdom with nightmarish weapons that reduced whole cities to ruins. Almost all of England is now barren wasteland due to the atom bomb.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Ghost towns,” said Dubravka’s grandpa. “The Nazis now inhabit the ghost towns that used to be thriving British cities.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“What about the capital?” I asked. “London?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“London is intact,” said Dubravka. “But the Nazis are planning on taking out that city as well.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“So, what part of England is free?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“The Capital,” said Dubravka. “And parts of the English countryside haven’t been touched by the nightmarish ‘Nazi war machines.’”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“War machines?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“The Nazis engineered war machines that look like something out of a science-fiction novel,” said Dubravka. “I’ve seen them before. It is how the Nazis practically destroyed Europe in less than two weeks.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Holy smokes,” said Katie. Then she stood up. “Well, I’m gonna fight. I’m gonna find the resistance. I’ll find them and help them fight the Nazis and-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No, no, no,” said Dubravka’s grandma. “No more resistance. Everybody is captured. If your friends are alive, the Nazis have them imprisoned in death camps across England. And who can say where they keep them?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre looked as if she was going to cry. “And what about my parents? Did they get out of the war zone?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I’m sorry, dear,” said Dubravka’s grandma. “I was told about an American family trying to find someone they claimed to be their daughter. Is your name Deidre Dillon?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre nodded. “What of my family? Are they still alive?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka and her grandparents looked at each other. Then Dubravka said sadly, “I’m sorry, my dear. But your parents are dead.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre started sobbing all over again. I hugged her, and then looked up at Sam. “She’s an orphan now, isn’t she?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I guess,” said Sam. “Can we put her in foster care?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka shook her head. “I’m not sure if there are any adoption centers available, or any orphanages for that matter. The Nazis took out pretty much every orphanage and adoption center during their conquest of Europe.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I ain’t got nobody now,” Deidre was bawling.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Hey, but look,” said Dubravka’s grandma. “There is still hope. Your siblings are still alive, at least!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre looked up at the elderly woman with tears in her eyes. “My brothers and sisters are alive? Where are they?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Your oldest sisters and brothers are in America,” said Dubravka. “I heard from them just last week. They were quite worried about you. They escaped the Nazi occupied town of Hereford and are now hiding out in Los Angeles.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre smiled despite her tears. “But do they-do they know I’m alive?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“If you want, I can tell them,” said Dubravka. “I’ll send them a telegram.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No, I want to see them,” Deidre said breathlessly. “I want to see them!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka’s face paled. “But the Nazis are everywhere. You should stay with us until it is safe enough to move out.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Deidre said, “When will it be safe enough to leave?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Dubravka said, “When the Nazis no longer have control over the railways across Europe.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

The Nazi Federation
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Fifty-Four years later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Home was not at all like I’d remembered it in the old timeline. Beverly Hills High School still existed, and my multi-million-dollar apartment in Switzerland still existed, but I no longer had any game systems in my residence’s game room. All I had was a poker table, which-granted-was better than nothing.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">America had never been the same when the Nazi Federation of Germany arose; the Nazis had been building machinery for their war machines for years after they won World War II. To counter the threat, ASGARD-an orbital strike weapon disguised as a satellite-had been built to keep the Nazis in line. But ASGARD didn’t stop people from living in fear of the apparent Nazi threat. The Nazis apparently wanted to attack the United States next, but our government reassured us that ASGARD would be our safeguard against them.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">However, I wasn’t so sure about that.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Who is Assassin X
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Los Angeles, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Logan Walker

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">The morning paper that day kind of freaked me out. The headlines read, <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaTitlingMT";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Assassin X still at large <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">, and accompanying the headline was a picture of a masked female assassin with a bionic arm and a jet-black Kevlar vest. I groaned; Olivia had told me about Assassin X and ever since their first run-in, she’d been trying to find out just who this villain really was.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Apparently, the assassin had been recently seen in a variety of different countries, assassinating different “enemies of the state” for the Nazi Federation. Whoever this assassin was, if she was a Nazi agent then we were really in trouble.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Especially if she was covertly operating on our soil!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I don’t understand it,” I told Olivia Coonz as I hung out with her at her residence that day. “I mean, nobody knows who Assassin X is. Heck, many intelligence agencies doubt that she even exists. She’s like the Winter Soldier from <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Captain America 2 <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Is she?” Olivia asked. “No, I don’t think so. For one thing, Assassin X can’t stay hidden for long. The CIA and FBI are the only known organizations to acknowledge her existence.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“So the Russian GRU, the Polish GROM, the German GSG 9 and the KSK-they all doubt her existence?” I asked. “But we are the only ones who know of her existence? Why is that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Olivia shook her head. “I’m just as clueless as you are, buddy.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">We were silent for about five whole minutes, staring at the outside world, when Olivia suddenly asked, “Do you ever get the feeling that someone’s watching you?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Do you feel that way?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Olivia nodded. “With Assassin X running around, I’m getting worried. She’s like the Red Wolf. She’s got all of us, like, paranoid about the impending threat.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I thought the Red Wolf was inactive,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“No, she just decided to lay low for a while,” Liv replied. “You know, to throw off people trying to hunt her down or something.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">And then, I abruptly changed the topic. “I noticed that over the past few weeks you mentioned someone named ‘Emily Smart’ who died a couple of years ago in the old timeline.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Yeah,” Liv replied. “I have. Why?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I showed her the photograph of Assassin X on the paper. Then I pointed at the hairdo. “You said Emily Smart had brown hair, right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Liv nodded. “Yeah. She does. Why do you ask that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Because this girl also has brown hair,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Olivia’s eyes suddenly widened. “How come I didn’t notice that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I said, “I don’t know, but somehow you missed it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Los Angeles, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I was abruptly startled when my phone rang. I brought my phone out and saw that it was none other than John Price. I groaned; why would John Price call me at a time like this.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But I answered it anyway. “Price? Price, what’s going on? What happened?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s your sister Ella,” said Price, which made my jaw drop. “Someone tried to attack her on her way back from school earlier today.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I gasped. “Oh, man. Uh, did the cops identify the attacker?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s that female murderess Assassin X,” Price said, his voice edgy. “I’m sure of it.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“How do you know?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Ella apparently never saw it coming,” said Price. “One moment she’s walking from school and the next she’s scarred from a car explosion and traumatized.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Someone tried to kill Ella with a car bomb?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Yeah, that and a volley of gunshots,” Price added. “Police were on the scene real quick, and pretty soon there was this stand-off between the LAPD and Assassin X. Fortunately, Ella’s fine. However, she’s now paranoid.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Paranoid about what? Assassin X getting her?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Yeah,” Price said. “Pretty scary stuff.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Where is Ella right now?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“She’s at the hospital, being treated for minor injuries,” said Price. “But she should be fine. She was never actually shot. All those injuries were from exploding police cars and not actual bullets.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:purple">Los Angeles, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:purple">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:purple">Ella Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:purple">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">I looked like a mess when I looked at myself in the mirror; my hair was all messy and there was a bruise on my left cheek, as well as a cut on my lower lip, which according to the doctors was from pieces of flying metal.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">I was told Olivia was going to show up, but I had no idea when.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">In the meantime, I was cooped up in this hospital, in this bed, with an IV in my arm. I never liked hospitals because I thought they smelled bad. I also had a childhood fear of needles, which gradually disappeared, as I got older.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">Almost two hours had gone by when Olivia had finally shown up. When she saw me, my sister nearly freaked. “My gosh, Ella! What happened to you?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“What do you think?” I said, almost mockingly. “Someone tried to kill me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Was that before or after breakfast?” Liv’s boyfriend Logan said jokingly. Liv gave him a stingy look, which made him keep his mouth shut.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Anyway,” Logan said later. “How’re you feeling?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“I’ve…I’ve been better,” I said. “Just shocked. Why would anyone want me dead?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“I-I don’t know,” said Logan.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Do you know who tried to kill you?” Liv asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">I thought for a moment. “She’s fast. Strong. Got a metal arm too. And she’s secretive. She’s a top-secret assassin working for the Nazi Federation. She’s so secret that many intelligence agencies doubt her very existence. Those that do call her Assassin X.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">Olivia’s face fell. “John Price was right.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Did Price tell you?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“He suspected that Assassin X was behind this,” said Logan. “I think you just confirmed his fears, buddy.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“But how was she able to get away with a shootout with the police?” Olivia asked. “That just doesn’t make any sense!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Maybe she was so fast, the cops didn’t see her coming, until she was gone,” Logan suggested.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“Look, Ella,” Olivia said to me. “I’m going to find out more about this ‘Assassin X’, okay? You stay here and get some rest in the meantime, okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">I nodded. “I’ll be fine, Liv. Besides, the doctors told me this place was safeguarded by thirty LAPD cops. If Assassin X wants me dead, she’ll have to go through all thirty cops, which I doubt she’ll actually succeed in doing.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">And then, I heard it; an explosion coming from outside the parking lot!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">Logan cursed. “What was that?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">I heard cops shouting and security guards running in different directions. “Block all the exits,” One cop barked. “Secure the building! I repeat: secure-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">CRASH! A body was heard smashing through a glass window, and I looked up. I suddenly gasped when I saw the familiar black-suited figure-the red star on her bionic arm.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">“My gosh,” Olivia gasped. “That’s Assassin X!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">And then, she started running outside, leaving Logan and I looking at her in confusion.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:purple">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Los Angeles, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I was literally sprinting through the hospital as I glanced at Assassin X, who was running on the glass roof above me. I looked up ahead and saw that the hallway up ahead led to a glass walkway, which led to a different wing of the hospital. Then I looked at my bag and suddenly grinned, as I’d just thought of an idea.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">While Assassin X began traversing the walkway, I pulled out a Semtex grenade (I was surprised that the cops and security personnel in the building didn’t see it), pulled the pin and threw it at the glass pane ahead of my opponent’s and waited.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BOOM! The grenade exploded and the female assassin crashed to the floor in a shower of glass. I looked at my opponent intently, staring at her goggles and her mask.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Assassin X stared at me for a while before saying in German, “I always knew you were more than an eighteen-year old.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I balled my fists together and said in Polish, “We’ll see.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then I charged, with Assassin X looking ready to take me head-on. I grabbed the assassin in a bear-hug and shoved her into the glass window to my right.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Why’d you try to kill my sister?” I demanded.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">POW! One swing from her bionic arm sent me to the floor in a heap. I got back up and wiped blood off my lip. We ran at each other again, and I started punching Assassin X in the face a couple of times, intending to knock her mask off and expose her real identity.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">That was, until she punched me again. I grabbed her and slammed her into the ground face-first.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Only for her to get back up and seize me by the throat, lift me up into the air, and hold me up against the wall. “You’re all weak!” She cried. “I’m stronger than all of this!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then she threw me really hard through a window, and I crashed into the street below, sending bystanders running for their lives.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">A cop asked me, “Ma’am, are you all right?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But then everybody saw Assassin X and started running in fear.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The cops began pointing at her and firing at her with guns.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">It got heated up real quick, and pretty soon the SWAT teams were involved.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">In response, Assassin X pulled out an M4A1 grenadier and began firing at the cops and SWAT officers, dropping them pretty quick. Ignoring the pain wracking my body from the strength of the throw, I staggered behind a telephone pole and waited.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But then, I heard the cops dying and then thought of another idea: I crawled over to the nearest dead body, grabbed the dead cop’s riot shield, and then stepped out from behind the telephone pole.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">When I peeked back over the corner, I saw Assassin X taking off her goggles, revealing a pair of pretty brown eyes. I tensed; those brown eyes looked <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">really <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">familiar.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“No,” I muttered. “You’re hallucinating, Liv. Stay focused.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then I ran at Assassin X as she jumped down from the glass walkway, intending to ram her with the riot shield. However, she saw me coming. With her M4A1 in one hand, she swung her bionic arm at me, but I blocked it.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">POW! Her leg kicked out and sent me flying across the road, while Assassin X opened fire on me with the M4, until it ran dry.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Drat,” I heard her muttering while I sprinted behind another car. I peeked behind a corner and saw that my enemy had pulled out a Skorpion submachine gun, and was now trying to shoot at me through the car.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I kept on moving, until the gun ran dry. As Assassin X reloaded, I suddenly swung over the hood of the car and sent my leg into my enemy’s shooting hand, causing her to drop the weapon.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">In response, Assassin X pulled out a pistol and started shooting directly at my riot shield.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">That was, until I smashed my fist into her hand and she dropped that gun too.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I rammed Assassin X with the riot shield, but she began punching the frame, as if she was trying to break it. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand and violently twisted my hand backwards, causing me to scream in pain as I let go of the shield.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">With the shield in her possession, she now began blocking my attacks as I futilely tried to punch the shield.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">That was, until she smashed me across the street with it!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“AAAUGH!” I groaned. “I really have to grow into this thing.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">And then, I charged, just as Assassin X tried hurling the shield directly at my face!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BANG! It hit me right in the face and I went down screaming, cursing under my breath while holding my face. “You jerk! You crazy, crazy jerk!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I touched my nose and flinched at the pain. When I drew my fingers away, I saw blood. I gasped; the hired gun had given me a bloody nose.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I charged again, just as Assassin X pulled out a knife and tried to slash at my throat. However, I acted faster; I began trying all sorts of dodge moves to avoid getting hit by the knife.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">That was, until I grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Only for her to repeat her tactic of grabbing my neck and then throwing me a couple of feet across the road!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">When I looked up, I saw Assassin X try and smash me into the ground, so I rolled out of the way just in time. I looked up at my opponent and we began punching each other again, though this time it seemed like I was winning!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I grabbed her and threw her over my head (literally) and then grabbed the riot shield she’d managed to hit me with, while Assassin X retrieved the knife she’d used to attack me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I began blocking her slashing moves with the shield with ease, until she dropped it. She then punched me on top of my head.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">She tried a few more stab moves before I grabbed her arm and backhanded her with the shield. Then I grabbed her by the face and threw her <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaBoldItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">very hard <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">to the ground.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Immediately the mask came off, but Assassin X lay facedown on the ground, groaning.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked around at the bystanders staring at me in horror and concern, and I heard people murmuring amongst themselves and some of them were asking me if I was okay.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I watched Assassin X get up and turn around.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">It was then that I suddenly felt like I was having a heart attack.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica"> Assassin X was actually my thought-to-be-dead friend <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Emily Smart <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family: Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">At first, I couldn’t move or speak; I just stood there in absolute shock and disbelief, my jaw hanging open and my eyes wide in shock.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">When I finally got the nerve to speak, I said, “Emily. How-?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Who the heck’s Emily?” My friend hissed, before grabbing her pistol from the ground and aiming it at me, her face deadpan.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s me,” I said, trying to bring back her memories with me. “I’m your friend Olivia. We-we’ve been friends since childhood. And why are you aiming a gun at me?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Emily thought for a moment. Then she tried to fire at me, but was stopped by a flying grenade round that sent her flying five meters across the road. I turned and saw that it was an LAPD SWAT officer who’d survived the massacre earlier.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Emily, don’t you remember me?” I began walking up to her.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“My name is not <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Emily <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">!” My long-lost friend literally screamed at me before firing a handheld grenade launcher at my direction. I dodged, just as the grenade blew a police cruiser to smithereens.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">When I turned back to where Emily had been, she was gone.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My head was swimming with questions. <span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Why doesn’t Emily remember me? And why did she try to kill my sister, and then attack me as if I was her worst enemy? She’d never act like this. Not unless…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I shook my head in confusion, just as police cruisers swarmed the scene of the crime.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">What happened?
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Ten minutes later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Beverly Hills, Los Angeles

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">After getting my nose patched up, I returned to Beverly Hills, wondering about how my best friend could possibly turn evil like that. I was thinking about one thing and one thing only: How could my best friend turn evil just like that?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I sat down in my room (which didn’t change much from the old time line, only now my Xbox 360 was somehow replaced by a PS4, which was better even though I still missed my Xbox) and thought for a moment. Ella had mentioned that Assassin X was a Nazi agent, a mercenary paid to kill certain people or something like that.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Did that mean…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Did that mean that my friend was brainwashed by Nazis?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">No, it couldn’t be! How could Nazis even exist in the old timeline?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Maybe it was a Neo-Nazi cult that brainwashed my friend, or something. It couldn’t have been Hitler’s Third Reich, because in the old timeline, Hitler’s Third Reich fell years ago.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">So it <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt; font-family:"PerpetuaItalic";mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">had <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">to be a Neo-Nazi cult that brainwashed my best friend. Who or what else could have done it?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">But then new questions sprang up. If it had been a neo-Nazi cult that had brainwashed my friend into turning against me, then how come Korey, myself, or any of the Slayerz never knew about its existence?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">How could they just get away unscathed after performing such an evil deed?

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“This doesn’t make any sense,” I muttered as I walked out of the room, rubbing the back of my head. “None of this does, frankly.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Three hours later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Los Angeles, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">May 13, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Logan Walker

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">The headlines on the newspaper were somewhat shocking, with the words HYDRA BONDING WITH PIRATES AND GANGSTERS typed in big black letters across the top of the paper. The HYDRA insignia, a skull with multiple tentacles hanging down from it, was also printed on the paper, coupled up next to a pair of somewhat weird and creepy symbols.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">One symbol was a bloody hand, and the other was a skull holding a machete in its mouth. The subtitle beneath the picture read, <span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Officials believe the organization HYDRA is working together with Somali pirates and Brazilian crime lords to build weapons of mass destruction <span style="font-size:18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica; color:#66CCFF">.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Weapons of mass destruction?” I muttered. “You can’t be serious…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">And then, Olivia suddenly appeared in front of me, her face pale. “Logan, what’re you looking at?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I looked up at her and asked, “Why’s your face pale?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I-I, uh, I don’t know,” Olivia said nervously. “I think I may have discovered the possible existence of a neo-Nazi cult.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“A what?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“A Neo-Nazi cult,” Olivia repeated.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Why do you say that?” I asked. Then I held up the paper. “By the way, the newspaper reports that this Nazi extremist group called HYDRA, which somehow warped itself into our world from the MARVEL comic book universe, is now forming an alliance with Somali pirates and Brazilian gangsters.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Olivia’s jaw dropped. “What exactly are you talking about?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“It’s right here,” I said, and then gave Olivia the paper.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I watched her read it over a couple times and then she handed it back to me, her mouth wide open with what I could perceive as terror. “This can’t be happening. Does this have a connection with Assassin X?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I-I don’t know,” I said. “Did you find out anything about her?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">At this, Olivia’s jaw dropped. “She’s actually my best friend Emily Smart, whom I thought was dead.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I looked at her in confusion. “I don’t follow.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“When I exposed her face, I recognized her facial features,” Olivia explained. “I realized that this whole time, we’d been fighting my long-lost friend, whom I thought had died in a botched assassination mission long time ago, back in the old timeline.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I rubbed the back of my head. “And you’re certain she’s your old friend?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I recognized her face, Logan,” Liv said intently. “I know my buddies’ faces when I see them.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I thought for a moment. “Is she the girl your, um, other pals talked about? The one who fell off a train?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Liv nodded. “Yeah. That’s her. That’s Emily, all right.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“And she somehow came back with no memory of you?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Yeah,” Liv said. “And she, um, seemed to have no memory of who she herself was. It’s as if her whole memory was…erased and replaced with new ones.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I turned around and thought for a little more before turning back to Olivia. “Any idea who or what wiped her memory and turned her against you?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I think it was a neo-Nazi cult,” Olivia replied. “But I may be wrong.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I looked back at the paper again, and then said, “It probably is a Neo-Nazi cult. And I think I know what it’s called.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“You do?” Liv’s eyes went wide.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I have reason to think it was HYDRA’s doing,” I said. “Because this paper also mentions top-secret illegal experiments performed with cooperation from the Somali pirates and Brazilian gangsters.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Are you sure about this?” Liv asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I turned around and shrugged. “It’s just a theory.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

When fun becomes horror
<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">One day later…

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">San Diego, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 14, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">My dad had to go on some business trip in San Diego with some random person, so that meant I got to hang out with the Walker bros in the downtown San Diego area, where they lived. Their place was no less different from mine; they both had two floors that made them look like mansions, and they had red brick rooftops.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Logan’s place was pretty comfortable, and I even felt kind of jealous because he had a much better bed. It was bigger than mine and looked like it could fit three people.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“You and Hesh really know how to make an impression,” I said as I stared at the rather large bed. Then I took a look around at all the Walker family pictures. One particularly interested me: one that showed two kids, their backs to the camera, with backpacks. One kid was blonde and the other had brown hair.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Is that you and your brother?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Yeah,” Logan replied. “It’s from when we were first in first grade. And Hesh…he was super-protective of me. One time some bully tried to pick on me, and Hesh gave such a nasty pounding that both of them got suspended and the poor dude had to be sent to the hospital.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">He laughed at the memory before continuing. “It was embarrassing then, but thinking back we always laugh about it!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I’d do something like that if someone picked on my younger siblings like that,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I can see that,” said Logan. “Hey, you wanna go outside and, you know, get some…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“I don’t really care,” I said. “I mean, I’d go for a snow cone right about now. Either that or pizza or a hot dog.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“You said it,” said Logan.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">San Diego, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">May 14, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Logan Walker

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">After I’d pulled into a food mart near a gas station, Olivia and I rushed inside and bought hot dogs and smoothies, and then began eating down as many hot dogs as we possibly could.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Wow,” Olivia giggled. “My mom would kill me if she saw me eating this!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“You said it,” I said while wolfing down a hot dog. Later, I began guzzling down my blueberry smoothie, until my head started getting cold.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Then I groaned. “Brain freeze!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">Moments later, we were back outside, just sitting at a random place in front of a Dairy Queen. Now we were drinking milkshakes (which, granted, was junk food, but we didn’t care).

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Okay, Liv,” said Logan. “Prepare to have your mind blown. We are going to have an epic night out!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">And then, he and I sat down and began eating burritos, which was normally fine by me, though I didn’t like eating those things out in the open streets.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“So, um,” Liv said. “I wonder what your dad’s doing now.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Oh, he’s just somewhere in San Diego,” I replied, munching on my burrito. “Probably thinking about how to combat the Nazi threat, as well as making improvements to the new ASGARD system.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Does ASGARD even mean anything?” Olivia asked, a bit randomly, after swallowing down a bite of her burrito.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“No,” I said. “I mean, I don’t think it does.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I was told that it stood for something,” Olivia said, her eyes looking skyward. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“What’d you think it stood for?” I asked, sipping my smoothie.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Ascending Stellar Guardian Against Racist Delinquents,” Olivia joked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I laughed. “Good one!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">We were all silent for a few moments, until Olivia finally said, “Hey, Logan, do you think that…the Nazi Federation could potentially-?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“What?” I asked. “Destroy us? No way!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“No,” Liv barked. “I mean, what if they’re the next big superpower?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“I doubt it,” I said. “I mean, even if they’ve got big fancy weapons like those giant robot walking tanks you see in sci-fi video games and Hollywood films there’s no way they could quite possibly become the next…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">I abruptly stopped when the ground underneath our feet suddenly rumbled. Olivia and I both jumped up and looked around. Other people were also looking around in confusion, and some were even starting to panic.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Earthquake?” Olivia asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">“Yeah,” I replied. “Those things used to freak the heck out of my mom. Maybe it was nothing.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">However, the look on Olivia’s face told me that it wasn’t just “nothing.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#66CCFF">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">San Diego, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 14, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Another rumble suddenly shook the streets and I looked at Logan, gasping. Logan looked at the ground and then observed the blowing wind around him. Something obviously seemed wrong.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Wind’s starting to pick up too,” I said. “I don’t understand how-!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">BOOOM! A thundering explosion in the distance jolted us, followed by a louder, much more violent rumble. It was so abrupt, we almost fell flat on our faces.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked up at Logan. “Look, we should head back to your place and make sure nothing got damaged.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Okay, follow me,” Logan said and we took off down the street.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Suddenly, as we ran up the street back to the Walker residence, the sky lit orange-red and giant streaks of light-or fireballs-began raining down upon San Diego, decimating everything by bombarding whole city blocks into nothing but sinkholes and craters.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s not an earthquake,” I said. “Logan, what’s happening?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">At that exact same moment, Elias T. Walker, my sister and brother Sam and Ella, Teresita Killmade, Tommy Cheng, and David “Hesh” Walker appeared on the opposite ends of the street! Elias looked up in the air and barked, “ASGARD! It’s ASGARD! To the house, guys! Now!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">As we ran up the street, I began to notice that a lot of people were standing around filming the ASGARD bombardment with their cell phones and video cameras instead of running. Cars were driving somewhat errantly down the road (presumably in a hurry to escape), and I could even see passengers sticking their heads out and filming the destruction from inside their vehicles.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Dad,” Logan barked. “Dad, what do we do?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“You boys and girls just get to the house and stay there,” said Mr. Walker. “I’m going for the truck!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“But Dad-!” Hesh argued.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Just do it, son!” Mr. Walker cut him off.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“C’mon, Liv!” Logan barked. I followed everyone else, panting like a dog as I raced up the hill with the others and then reached the Walker’s front door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Sam barked, “What’s going on here?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Logan and Hesh broke into a sprint and charged through the door ahead of us. Logan barked, “Get inside!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">All of us crashed through the door, panting like crazy, and Hesh shut the door. He looked around in confusion and then asked aloud, “What was Dad talking about, guys? What’s AGARD?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Teresita and I couldn’t answer; we were breathing rather heavily.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Tommy shrugged. “Some kind of giant spaceship that can shoot giant fireballs, I guess.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Wait, what?” Ella panted. “Did you guys see a giant spaceship right before that rumbling noise? I thought it was a thunderstorm!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“It’s not,” Logan said. “It’s ASGARD. Somehow, someone must’ve either hacked it, or hijacked it, and turned it against us.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I looked up at him, panting. “It’s the Nazis. I feel it in my gut! It was the freaking Nazis!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The ground shook again, and Hesh said, “This place isn’t gonna take much more of this. C’mon, we’re not going to die here! Follow me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">We followed Hesh to the back door and Hesh began pushing against the door, but he couldn’t get it open. “Darn, it’s jammed! Help me out, guys!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Everyone immediately stacked up on the door, and I looked at Hesh, mouthing, “Careful, Hesh.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Okay,” Hesh barked. “Three! Two! One! Push!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">San Diego, California

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">May 14, 2014 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">Ella Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Okay, three! Two! One! Push!” Hesh barked and we all forced open the door to get outside, just as another one of those “fireballs” that Tommy mentioned crashed into the nearby street and sent it collapsing into a giant sinkhole.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“C’mon, guys!” Logan and Hesh were both literally screaming. “Dad said he was going for the truck! We need to find him!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Suddenly, Hesh pointed at a large chunk of someone’s front lawn collapsing into the giant sinkhole created by the fireball. “Get across! Quick!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">We were all running, and then jumping over the sinkhole, and then running through a rather destroyed mansion, and then through a trashed city block. I barked, “How much-how much farther?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Through that house!” Hesh screamed. “Get upstairs! We need to get above ground!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">We all sprinted into the mansion, then ran up a stairwell and jumped through an open window towards another mansion’s rooftop.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">CRASH! I crashed right through the roof, as did everyone else. “OW! I think my elbow’s bleeding!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“No, you’re okay,” said Hesh. “Let’s just keep moving!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">After I dusted myself off, I followed the others in a mad sprint towards the back door of the house, where we were met with a street on the verge of collapse.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Just keep running!” Hesh barked, as I climbed over the ledge that used to be a major highway, and continued towards a large church.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Suddenly, I saw a giant helicopter hurtling down towards me, and I cried, “Look out, guys!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">BOOM! The helicopter exploded, and I felt myself flying before I blacked out.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Immediately, everything became somewhat muffled and I could hear someone yelling, “Logan!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Suddenly, Sam was yelling, “Dad!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Later, I opened my eyes and saw Olivia and Sam helping me to my feet, as well as…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">My dad!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Dad,” I groaned, as my two older siblings helped me to my feet.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Get in the truck, kids,” I heard Mr. Walker and my own dad barking. “Get in the truck! Get her in the truck now! We need to get out of here as soon as possible!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“You’re going to be all right, kid,” I heard Hesh’s voice barking at me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Then the blurry form of Dad’s pickup truck entered my view and I could feel myself being lifted onto the truck by Logan and Hesh.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Logan and Hesh, you’re with me,” Mr. Walker barked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">I felt someone put a hand on my shoulder and I turned to see that it was Sam. At the same time, my vision and my ears both cleared and I began to hear things normally again.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Only this time, I could no longer hear the loud explosions anymore.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">I could only hear a dull roar, and an occasional rumble.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Hold on, kids!” I heard Dad barking and then the truck drove off, following the Walker family’s own pickup truck right in front of us. I looked off to the left and saw it; San Diego being decimated into a crater-filled wasteland by giant rods (or what seemed like rods), which exploded upon impact.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Feels like a horror movie, doesn’t it?” Olivia asked me, sitting down on my left hand side.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">I nodded. “Will we ever go home again?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Olivia and Sam looked at each other. Then Sam said, “I don’t know.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

The Federation War
<p style="text-align:center;">Two years later...

<p style="text-align:center;">New York City, NY

<p style="text-align:center;">May 16, 2016 (Alternate History)

<p style="text-align:center;">Olivia Coonz

<p style="text-align:center;">

<p style="text-align:left;">The Nazi Federation's next step in its aggressive expansion had occurred in the years before and after the ASGARD attacks. When the Nazis destroyed the Middle Eastern deserts and their oil supplies, countries like America, India, Russia, and China went nuts and tried to launch a retaliatory strike against the Nazi Federation, in the form of a campaign against the Nazi Germans in Europe.

<p style="text-align:left;">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">However, the Reich (like always) remained several steps ahead of us and retaliated by hijacking ASGARD and using it to decimate not just the US, as I found out, but China, Russia, and even Europe!

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">After turning ASHARD against us, the Federation of Nazism launched a massive invasion of China, Russia and America with everything the Nazis had built in the past several years, in what became known as the Federation War.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Some called the day of the Nazi invasion Fed Day, or Federation Day, but most Americans remembered it as Judgment Day, the day America was “judged” by the Nazi Federation and invaded after America and her allies struck against Nazism.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I called it The Day of the Nazis

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">New York City, NY

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">May 16, 2016 (Alternate History)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">Ella Coonz

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">I’d fallen asleep during our time hanging out in the shredded theatre in the decimated downtown New York area. However, I was awakened by a radio broadcast.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“This is Radio Free America,” said a radio host, whom I guessed to be Logan’s dad. “It’s another sunny day in free Manhattan, with a temperature of seventy degrees with a slight chance of afternoon showers…”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Olivia?” I groaned. “Are you…awake?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Yeah,” said Olivia cheerfully. “Sorry I didn’t wake you up, Ella. I thought you could use the sleep.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Oh,” I said.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">I thought back to last night; Dad sent us all out to recon the decimated New York area outside a free Manhattan, which had been separated from the occupied zone by a huge fortress called Tarlington Fortress. We’d battled Nazis throughout yesterday evening and stopped in this shredded movie theatre bathroom.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Now we were ready to head back and report back to the US Resistance’s HQ, which was located in Free Manhattan.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“You okay?” Olivia asked. “You still look tired.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“It’s this whole war,” I said. “It’s been, you, know, giving me some discomfort.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“Really?” Liv asked. “You think?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">“I’m hearing about people being killed by Nazi soldiers almost every day,” I said. “And frankly, I’m worried. I feel like we’re losing.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Olivia took a deep breath. “We will win this, Ella. You just need faith in the Resistance, and the remnants of the US military.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">Then it happened; the room shook and Olivia and I jumped to our feet. I said, “I guess that’s our cue. Let’s get back to the free zone.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;color:#660066">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Chapter 36: Nazi bloodbath

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">New York City, NY

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">May 16, 2016 (alternate history)

<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-align:center; text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace: none"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:"PerpetuaItalic"; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica">Olivia Coonz

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I brought out an AAC Honey Badger rifle, attached an ACOG sight, and gave it to Ella. “Use that to kill enemies silently,” I said. “We’ll be like ghosts.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ella grinned. “Ghost killers. Won’t that be fun!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I brought out my own Honey Badger and mounted an EOTech holographic sight, and then took a deep breath. “I’ll race you to the door.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">After I broke into a sprint, Ella cried, “Hey! No head-starts,” and began running after me.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">However I beat her to the door, which made Ella groan. “You always win, sis.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I laughed. “C’mon, let’s go.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">I opened the door, and found myself staring at a desolate movie theater of some kind. The seats were all trashed, and I could see dead bodies strewn all over the place. I turned back to Ella. “It’s clear. But be careful of the dead bodies.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ella almost gagged. “Dead bodies? Gross!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ella held her nose and followed me up the stairs to the back of the building, which was clear of dead bodies, though it reeked of a different smell: animals.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“What kind of animal smells like this?” Ella gasped, holding her nose.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then she ran ahead to a door to her right when…

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“AAAH!” I heard her scream and she stumbled backwards. I quickly ran to her side of the room, and peeked through the door.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Two African Nyalas (a kind of antelope), which I assumed had escaped from San Diego’s Wild Animal Park and somehow ended up here, suddenly raced out of the room.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Whoa,” I said. “Were you scared of those things?”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“They-they startled me,” Ella gasped. “I almost panicked because one of them looked like it was going to attack me!”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Then why didn’t you shoot it?” I asked.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">“Because I didn’t want to waste my ammo,” Ella groaned.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Then she ran ahead, which made me run after her. “Hey, Ella, it’s okay. They’re just animals. No need to be scared of them.”

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ella just ignored me as we kept going up the hallway and then up another stairwell, which led to a large gash in the wall leading to the outside world.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">Ella suddenly stopped as she saw another group of Nyalas roaming the streets, only to run off after seeing us. She sighed with relief and then headed outside.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">The city looked worse than it did during the ASGARD attacks; we saw huge sinkholes in the streets, buildings blown to smithereens, and cars hanging precariously off of makeshift cliffs from the AGARD strikes. I could also see craters everywhere.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">And in the distance, we saw Tarlington Fortress.

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"><span style="font-size: 18.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Perpetua;mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:14.0pt;text-indent:.5in;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none">