April 19, 2067
5:34 AM
Castle Schreiber
"Thump!" The NSS footsoldier collapsed to the ground, blood splattering out of the hole in his throat and staining the grass beneath him. As he tried to stem the flow, a figure in green fatigues rose out of the tall grass wielding a suppressed handgun. Without looking down, she put a second round between his eyes, putting him out of his misery.
"Fucking Nazis, more than you deserve" she muttered to herself, stepping over his body to survey the towering walls beyond the grassy embankment hiding her first kill.
Alex, standing at five feet seven inches, was very easy to lose in a crowd, or at least she would have been if it wasn't for her bubblegum pink hair. Her brazen attitude brought to mind a warrior, the kind who didn't bother to wear a helmet in battle. However, her armor took the form of her wardrobe, half of which was taken up by band t-shirts, and the other half consisted of a mishmash of upcycled jeans, military pants, denim jackets, and cargo pants. Her fashion remained largely unchanged as she came of age, although usually covered by her chest rig, ammo belt, and leg holster where she carried her P226, inherited from her Navy SEAL uncle.
Alex gazed through her binoculars at the large compound ahead, making note of the various armed guards and snipers along the top of the crenelated walls. Hans Schreiber's compound had been designed in the style of 16th-century Germanic castles, with high lime washed stone towers, punctuated by thick watchtowers, housing two snipers each. Alex rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Have some originality for god's sake."
Hans Schreiber was not, as his name would suggest, German. He had in fact grown up in the same town as Alex had. Hans Schreiber wasn't even his birth name. Alex remembered him as Doug, a disgustingly racist store owner who refused to sell to anyone whose skin was darker than the paper of the cheap celebrity magazines he stocked in front of the register. It turned out that he was the leader of the local Neo-Nazi cell in her small Illinois town, and was one of the most important organizers of the 2039 "Neue Deutsche Welt" Uprising. Alex's mother was one of the first victims of the uprising as she had been an aide to the Governor of Illinois at the time, and was in the State Capitol when the NSS bombs went off. They never found her remains.
Alex spotted a sniper on one of the towers who was obscured from the view of the other guards by a large spotlight. Scenting an opportunity, Alex quickly took the rifle from her back, gazing through the scope at her target. The sniper was pacing, obviously bored with his assignment. Alex let out a sharp whistle, which made the guard start and turn towards her. His jaw hit the floor, literally. The force of the high-powered rifle had torn it clean off as he crumpled to the floor. Alex chuckled.
"He's not getting up." She said to herself as she rushed to the base of the tower. She pulled a pair of spiked gloves and shoe spikes out of her backpack, strapped them on, and began to scale the tower. Her arms and legs started to ache as the ground slowly dropped away from her. She was really starting to feel it as she neared the top, her muscles screaming their disapproval. Finally, she pulled herself over onto the ground. She stretched as she got to her feet, wiping beads of sweat from her brow. She stowed her climbing gear and surveyed the body of the jawless sniper.
"That might have been my best shot!" She remarked, looking down at the dead Nazi in a pool of semi-congealed blood. "I should get a souvenir..." she said, stooping down and pocketing the soldier's blood-type patch. She straightened, peering over the wall at the compound. Within the walls, there were several barracks, an armory, a control office, and a large administrative building situated around a central courtyard. Near the gate stood several motorcycles, four armored trucks, and a couple of tanks. Alex made note of these as she scanned the walls once again. She caught sight of another lone guard and took aim. The soldier crumpled instantly, his spine severed. She continued for several minutes, aiming and firing upon each guard in turn, until blood stained the walkways and she had run out of viable targets. Nine guards lay dead, and the alarms were still silent.
