Prologue
Chet’s Mix #1
Induction.
Starring: Chet, Richard Brosnan, Mason Ellis, The Rook, Russian Commandos, Foxhound Recruits
Written and Directed by, The Emperor’s Blade, Tuddums
Flying over Russian controlled Syria.
Pashcah Prison Camp
0100
The year is 2032. The world has become a place of complexities beyond reason. World super powers have risen, but are in a constant stalemate, no longer capable of fighting their own wars for fear of destroying the very ground beneath their feet. Instead wars are fought using Mercenary armies, and Private Intelligence Agencies who spy upon one another almost as much as they do opposing Nations. Money rules the world as always, lining pockets with meaningless paper stained with the blood of thousands. This is the way of the world though, as Russia and the United States use their allies to meet whatever ends they need to achieve. It can be said that any shot fired on any battlefield has at least one of these Nations whispering in the soldier’s ear to pull the trigger. Though it seems that as these private enterprises grow more powerful the fear of them truly becoming a separate entity capable of holding the very world itself at ransom changes into a very real possibility.
So Foxhound is born once more, with the true intent of becoming the most powerful Corporate Military on the face of Earth. Having heard of this company in the headline for months on end as they are on the rise it is not surprising that many would jump at the chance to join this elite mercenary group. Welcome to Foxhound… Enjoy your stay.
***
The muffled sound of the helicopter blades is the only sound that can be heard from inside of the chopper. It has just taken off from a civilian airport in Syria. Its cargo is six new Foxhound Operatives. Them entering the chopper is the first time they have ever seen each other, with no prior mention that they would be embarking in such a manner. No one introduces them to each other. Instead, they are quietly ushered into a Stealth-Chinook. Inside there are some small crates with the names of each operative on them, containing their uniforms, gear, and weaponry.
Three other choppers fly alongside them likely filled with similar cargo and recruits looking to make a name for themselves as mercenaries. It’s pleasantly clear that it was not just six recruits going into the likely hell that was to be their first day on the job. A red light flares around the Chinook bathing everyone in a eerie glow. A stain was on the floor near the doorway, dark and browned with age, what was likely a blood stain from a former injury or possible casualty.
The pilot of the chopper turns to look at the new recruits and waves. His face is obscured by his helmet, which ends up muffling his voice as he calls back to them.
“Hello everyone, my name is Chet and I have been designated to be your pilot! As you’ve probably noticed, we’ve issued you all some uniforms and gear. I hope none of you are shy because we don’t really have change rooms on this thing. We’ve also included manuals on how to operate each of the gadgets available to you. We’ve got a decent flight ahead of us so study up! If you’ve got any questions, fire away. But beyond that, get to mingling. Oh, and put your earpieces in as soon as possible! Everything will be explained to you soon.”
He turns away from the group and returns his attention to flying, humming a tune to himself. As this happened an enormous sand storm could be seen in the distance. White bolts of lightning crackle and tear at the sky around it. It seemed a dismal thing. A force of nature that could easily swallow whole cities and then some. Chet once more looked back at the recruits as he noticed the sandstorm himself.
“If you all look North you’ll see one of those sandstorms the middle east is famous for. Lucky for us it’s heading the opposite direction of our target. Just hope you don’t get caught out doing something fidgety when one of those things hit. They make for great cover if you’re sneaking around, though!”
