JD Caldwell’s

Phantom 5

Prologue:

` War is hell; people don’t realize that until the fight is brought to their doorstep. We will never stop war, nor will we tell the brave souls who join the military, that they can’t fight. Casualties may be large or small but like were taught; it’s the thought that counts. World peace is there anything more far-fetched.

2001: September Eleven happens

2002: President Bush decides not to go to war with Iraq, the cost is to high and that we should analyze the situation and find a peaceful diplomatic solution

2005: President Bush is assassinated, no one knows who the killer was or where he came from, was he American, Iraqi, or someone else. Chaney becomes President. Latter on in the year Chaney dies of a heart attack.

2008: Thomas Franklin Pryce is elected president, and James Kensington is VP

2009: A Nuclear bomb hits Canada. Killing nearly 90% of the population, the Russians take their chance and use Canada to invade the US.

2010: War is declared against Russia, the war is on US soil, mostly Northeastern states, mainly New York, Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvania

2011: Now…

Chapter One: Two Renegades

“You know the felling you get in your gut, when you know something bad is going to happen.” Private First-Class Marcus Johnson said to his commanding officer and long time friend Sergeant Hannibal F.

Johansson Jr. who was rubbing his cross on the necklace around his neck.

Hannibal replied shifting his weight in the backseat of the moving Hum-V. “Ya I know what you mean, but I don’t get that feeling no more,” he answered looking out his window into the rubble of building, that once was New York. “It kinda went away when I survived the infiltration of Fort Bragford five months ago.”

“Man lets forget about that shit, Rodney put some tunes on.” Marcus said yelling to the front seat. Trevor, riding shotgun handed a CD to Rodney, who was driving. Rodney put it in. Marcus started to sing along attempting to cheer up Hannibal from his remorse of his comrade’s months ago. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long.”

Hannibal pondered why his black friend, Marcus, would be singing the Beach Boys, that fact alluded him. Hannibal. Quickly jumped in the next verse with, “Wouldn’t it be nice to live together, in the kinda world were we belonged.”

Then Marcus let out a laugh, “You white boys and your Surfer music. Damn its like white people and ET.”

“What the hell do you mean by that,” Hannibal shot back, curios to what was wrong with ET.

“He’s a god damn alien, and the humans become friends with him. You white folks may thing that that’s all nice and dandy, nut us black folks like the movies where the alien eats people, like the movie Alien.”

“Look there both good movie, no lets drop it,” Hannibal said. Following his word came a loud explosion in front of the, a Military Vehicle just blew up.

Rodney yelled from the front, “Jesus was getting bombed.” With that the front of the car was engulfed in fire, taking Rodney and Trevor in it. Hannibal kicked his door open; Marcus did likewise on his side. Hannibal rolled out and behind a car, just in time to avoid the explosion of their truck.

Hannibal stood up to see his seven-car unit destroyed, all the cars destroyed and no survivors it looked like.

Hannibal looked in the sky to see several jet-fighters swoop by in and instant, back north, to Russia’s new land, Canada. Marcus rounded the other side of the car, “Damn Russian jets, how did our signals not pick them up.”

“Are you kidding our signals are shit,” Hannibal said, “Still we should have seen it coming, we are on Manhattan Island, were on the battlefield.” The two renegades stood looking at their destroyed convoy.

Chapter 2: Training Day

Ever year, since 2001, about 100 US soldiers, of any rank, try out for a team that remains nameless and nobody knows anything about it. Hannibal Johansson has tried every year and failed, Marcus Johnson has tried only three years. Marcus joined the army in 2003, hoping to get back at the basterds who killed his brother in 9/11. Hannibal on the other hand has been in the army ever since he was 21. Eleven years in the army, it wasn’t until around the time his good buddy from high school Marcus joined that he was promoted to sergeant.

No one knows why he suddenly went from private to sergeant so quickly, because frankly no one asked. Most of the troops that knew him came up with the idea he was cursed, on-the-count-of he survived two attacks, bombings, and was the only survivor, well now three with the bombing on Manhattan Island. Except this time one other person lived, his buddy Marcus, maybe he to shared the curse.

Hannibal was stepping into the warehouse where the held the “try outs”, for the secret team. He rubbed his thin yet noticeable beard, that consisted of sideburns, a goatee, and a mustache, the whole deal. Hannibal had dark hair, which was a gene, his father, and the great explorer, Hannibal F. Johansson Sr. (or the first), and his eleven-year-old son, Hannibal F. Johansson III. The name was another thing that ran in the family; Hannibal liked his name and not really being close to his dad, still named his son after him. His father being a 52-year-old man when he had Hannibal thirty-two years ago, Hannibal didn’t spend much time with him, considering he was kinda old. His father is still alive and is a healthy 84-year-old living with Hannibal’s wife back home, Linda, in California, and his son. Hannibal regrets not spending time with his old man or his own son, and swore he would when the war is over, for god sakes they all share the same name.

Hannibal looked around the room at the room at the lowlives that actually think they had a shot with the team. A few were really good; those were Hannibal’s real threat, like the heavy machine gunner Billy Conners, or the sharpshooter Reed Goldsmith. The whole idea of the game is you start of on two teams 50, or so, they fight and the last man standing’s team moves on. Next round they eliminate, to make up four teams of 10, the person who survives the longest of each team is put in the final round were the final four fight, every man for themselves. They use customized guns made to shoot paintballs.

Hannibal has made it to Round Two twice, never Round Three (the final round). The first time immediately gunned down, the second was very close to being in the final round, but failed. Marcus hasn’t made it out of the fist round.

The first round was chosen randomly, before Corporal Anthony Hackman, the drill sergeant, started putting people on teams. He signaled Hannibal over to him, where he stood with a tall bald man, and a little bit shorter man with spiked hair.

Hannibal walked over to him, with Marcus following. “Yes sir, did you want something,” Hannibal said to the Sgt. Hackman.

Hackman replied in a very southern voice, “Yes I do son, I’d like to introduce you to the men in charge of the team.” He pointed out the bald man first, “This is Captain Jonathan O’Riley, first in command.” He then turned to the other man, “Second in command Sgt. Ryan Tyler Spooner.”

“Sir I thought you said, they were a ‘secret’ group, and that only a handful of people even meet the members of the tea,” Hannibal said confused.

“Well you are one of those handful, plus I know you and your father, I trust you.” Hackman then turned his head to Marcus, “But I don’t know about him. Who are you solider?”

Marcus straitened up and saluted his superior officer, “Sir, Private First-Class Marcus Johnson, sir.” Before the Hackman could respond, Marcus added, “I take their names to the grave with me, sir.”

Hackman turned to Hannibal in approval, and Hannibal nodded. “Alright at-ess soldier. Johansson, if anyone asks, these two are here to spectate and take notes.” With that Hannibal nodded and turned around.

Marcus put his hand down and relaxed. Before he followed Hannibal to the rest of the men he turned to the bald man, “That’s a nice blade you have there,” referring to the 9-inch blade strapped to the leg.

The bald man, Captain O’Riley, responded, “Suits me and gets the job done,” he smirked.

With that Marcus ran off. Billy Conners walked up to Hannibal and asked, “Who are those two, with the Sarg?”

“Just a couple of Spectators, no one special.” Hannibal responded.

Sgt. Hackman separated the teams randomly. Hannibal assumed that the team he was on would for-sure make it to Round Two, because the had the most the best men, including Marcus, Conners and Sharpshooter Gold (Reed Goldsmith).

As Hannibal predicted, they won, because of Hannibal’s idea to take out the first wave with heavy machine-guns, lead by Conners, then finish take out the rest with snipers lead by Goldsmith. If there were anyone else Hannibal, Marcus and a few others would storm their base and take them out. Only about ten men died on Hannibal’s team, the ten that would most definitely be eliminated before Round Two began.

Hannibal predicted that since Round Two was analyzed and the four teams were made to be even, that they would put him, Marcus, Goldsmith and Conner all on separate teams, on-the-count-of they did most the work in Round One and are the best four. That was the end of the first training day.

Chapter 3: Round Number Two

Hannibal stepped into the cool morning air, to see the sun shining bright. He saw a massive number of trees. He shut the car door, and walked over to Sgt. Hackman.

“You have the red team Johansson,” Hackman said reading those words from his clipboard. He walked over to be his team was, and they tossed him a red shirt to slip on. The only person he really knew on his team was 26 year-old by the name of Jack Shepard.

“Hey you think you’ll make it to Round Three finally,” Shepard asked.

“I don’t know,” Hannibal replied, “Who’s the other teams.”

“Well your buddy Marcus got yellow with Howard, Sammy-boy, and I couldn’t remember his name to save my life,” Shepard said pointing to a tall dark Mexican.

“Allehandro,” Hannibal replied, “What about Goldsmith and Conners?”

“Conners is on blue, and goldsmith is green,” Shepard pointed them out. “I’d say the teams are pretty balance, I bet you, Marcus, Conners and Goldsmith go to Round Three.”

“Ya theoretically, but lets find out, shall we,” Hannibal said loading up his paintball-gun M-16.

“Well I think I’ll just stay out of your way.”

We all went to our positions, Red Team, Hannibal’s team, stated on the west side of the 150 square yard forested arena. Thank God the arena was relatively flat otherwise the team with the high ground would dominate. Hannibal’s plan of action was to wait for the others to eliminate some of each other, while the Red Team waits to catch the other three teams with their pants down. The reason Hannibal was always the plan-maker was because he was probably the highest rank in the whole arena and he was a natural born leader. He never liked taking orders, that’s why he has been kick out of three platoons, he always said the guy in charge was always a jackass, and he would listen to someone that knew what they were talking about.

The round started and Hannibal told the 3 snipers to take positions in the trees, and the 4 heavy machine gunners up front. Hannibal, Shepard, and Sammy-Boy stayed back to provide cover-fire.

Hannibal heard more firing and buzzers going off, meaning someone got out. Hannibal counted twelve buzzer rings, his plan was working, the other teams are doing all the work, all Hannibal’s team had to do was sit back relax, and when most of them were gone eliminate the left-over.

* * * *

Marcus ran up to get cover behind a tree he yelled to his teammate Parallel to him Pat Smyth, “I counted it out the Blue Team has three men left, the green lost one, and we’ve lost two, but were the hell is that red team.

The team leader of the yellow team was elected to be Patty Smyth. He ordered his men to cover him while him and three others move up. Marcus gave them cover fire, but it didn’t help they were taken down by sniper shots from the Green Team, it was Goldsmith. Now they didn’t have a team leader, so Marcus to the initiative. “You get up her and help me,” Marcus yelled, pointing to one of his teammates. Marcs did the math in his head, which he is very good at.

The Red Team, Hannibal’s team, had all ten of their men. The Blue team, Connors’s team, had three left. The Green Team, Goldsmith’s team, had now, only seven men. Finally Marcus’s tem had only three men left.

Marcus jumped up and yelled to his two men, “fall back.” In doing so one was gunned down, and Marcus nearly got shot. He thought out loud with his last teammate, “Were the hell is that Read Team.” Marcus realized Hannibal had the Red Team, then a smirk came arcos his face.

* * * *

Conners rolled down the a small hill, then yelled to his two final men, “Damn, that Green Team has us pinned.”

One of his men took a paintball round in his chest, then the other in his back. Conners were the last man standing, he held up his heavy machine-gun and started firing round at the opponent. He his two, then when he was out of ammo, yanked out his pistol and took down one more, leaving the Green Team with only four guys. Conners then took a sniper round in his collarbone, and then yelled, “Damn you goldsmith.”

* * * *

Goldsmith set his set his sites on one of the two remaining Yellow Team opponents. He took him down, leaving Marcus as the only Yellow team member. He focused his shot on Marcus, but Marcus ran out of sight.

The other three Green Team members ran up to Goldsmith awaiting an order. Goldsmith stood up, “Let Marcus go, lets take care of the Red Team.”

* * * *

Hannibal made a mental not that there were only five people left in the arena, on which teams he did not know. He heard gunfire; it was coming from a clearing. Hannibal sent his four heavy Machine-Gunners into the clearing. Hannibal saw one lone solder from the Green Team. Hannibal’s men shot him down, but before they did the Green Team solder took out one of the gunners.

Paintball fire came from the trees taking out all of Hannibal remaining heavy gunners. Then the man next to Hannibal retreated backward, while Hannibal and Shepard stayed up.

Hannibal heard the buzzer sound once, twice, three times. Hannibal turned to Shepard with a confused look. Hannibal wondered were the sound had come from, before he turned around to see he took out one of the Green Team members in the clearing. Hannibal turned to Shepard, “Goldsmith is on the Green Team, and I guarantee he is still out there, so stay in cover.”

Shepard looked up at him as Hannibal, “Where are you going?”

“I’m ganna see where the hell the rest of our team is,” Hannibal turned and ran the opposite direction of the clearing. He put his back to a tree, then poked around it, to see Sammy-Boy wrestling Marcus for his gun. Marcus punched Sammy’s kidney then grabbed the gun from his hand and shot him in the gut. Marcus stood up, and then Hannibal came out and shot him in his torso.

Marcus looked at the paint spot on his chest, “Damn Hann nice shot, but hey I’m going to the next round, how about you.”

Hannibal remembered that Marcus was the last man on the Yellow Team to be eliminated, and then Hannibal remembered Shepard was the only person stopping him from going to the next round. He turned around and saw Shepard running past him.

Hannibal turned and waited behind a bush for the men chasing Shepard to come into view, when he did Hannibal shot him. Hannibal turned to Shepard completely forgetting about the last man on the Green Team, Goldsmith. Hannibal felt a sting in the back of his leg, then on his back.

Hannibal realized he was out, that he didn’t make it to Round Three, that there was no chance for him to join, the “secret” team. As he left the arena he heard a buzz, as he waited he saw Shepard with three paint spots on his back, because he was probably running, and Goldsmith shot him in the back. When Goldsmith walked out of the arena Hannibal said to him, being a good sport, “Last Man Standing, how does it feel?”

“Eh, not that great, your not going to the next round, instead that chicken-shit Shepard is,” Goldsmith but his hand on Hannibal’s back. “Sorry man, you would have been a worthy opponent in the final round.”

The four winners Marcus, Conners, Goldsmith, and of course Shepard, stood in a line facing all the “losers”. Hannibal made eye contact with Marcus; Marcus looked at Shepard and shook his head.

Sgt. Hackman, and the other two men from yesterday, Captain O’Riley and Sgt. Spooner. O’Riley looked at Marcus the first in line, “I liked the way you got the Red Team from their flank. He moved on to Conners, “Your bravery when you lost all your men show great valor.” Then to Goldsmith, “You are the best shot with a sniper, that I’ve seen since Ryan here.” His buddy Sgt. Spooner scolded him for that remark.

O’Riley got to Shepard and paused for a moment, “I rally didn’t like you at all, you ran away, and still got shot.” O’Riley turned to Hannibal and pointed, “You, your plan worked out, and you are a sufficient leader, I want you in the next round.”

That pissed Shepard off, so Shepard said, “Rules are rules, last man from each team, that was me,” in a mad tone.

“Shut the fuck up,” O’Riley said, “Forget the rules and screw you.” He pointed to Hannibal, “You get up here,” then turned to Shepard, “and you go find something to do, your pissing me off.”

Hannibal walked up and stood next to Marcus, Marcus held out his fist and Hannibal pounded it. Hannibal made eye contact with O’Riley, “Thank you Captain O’Riley.”

“No problem,” he turned to Sgt. Spooner, “Call him RTS, and call me Blade, after all you four all need a call sign too.” O’Riley, or Blade adjusted the “blade” on his pants.

Hannibal spoke up, “but the four of us haven’t gone through Round Three yet.”

Please comment

0