Vanguard

Chapter 1: Rescue (Part 1)

The sun shone high in the mid afternoon as the thugs gathered around their prize victim. The victim was a suave-looking man, bruised and hair in disarray, no thanks to the thugs surrounding him. he wore a suit that was slightly torn, due to a fight that he had tried to get out of. Now, he was tied up with rope, leaning against a church wall, surrounded by punks obviously belonging to a third-rate gang. The man pondered his utter humiliation. A man so young and experienced in combat, caught and bound by punks. His head sunk, his eyes focused on the ground. His chestnut hair flowing down past his brow, looking as though it had given up. The man's deep blue eyes burned with anger. He was angry at himself, mostly, for getting captured and having failed his boss. 

The man had been sent on a mission, and that was to gather intel on possible disturbances in the sewer systems in Manchoya. However, his mission was abruptly ended, not realizing he had entered the so-called "Thai Mafia". One thug, wearing tan cargo shorts, a gray tank-top, and a navy blue baseball cap turned around, and sneakers that looked cheap, carrying a baseball bat on his shoulders bent down to get a good look at the man's face. "So, you thought it would be a great idea to wander on our turf, didn't you, you son of a bitch?" He began. The punk stood back up, lowering the bat to the man's shoulder. The man glanced at the bat before focusing back on the ground.

"See, Rico Suave, here's the deal. We don't like Russians. Hate em' in fact. Wish we could just kill em' all." The punk said, voice turning twisted, along with his grin. The punk was thin, but muscular, and didn't look like the kind of man that enjoyed being toyed with. The man glanced to his left, then to his right to see if he could see any possible allies in the area. He was alone. He had no way of defending himself. The rest of the punks wore cheap clothing and looked like the kind of people who would be more than willing to get into a fight. The man didn't stand a chance, or so they all thought. "Hey! You paying attention, you skinny fucking ass-wipe?" The lead punk said, lowering his face to focus on the tied up man's face. "We said we were going to kill you, you piece of shit. And if you belong to Natalia, that fucking Ivan bitch, we're going to kill you twice as hard!" The lead punk yelled, raising his body back up and then letting out a twisted, high pitched laugh, bat behind his back.

The punk's goons began laughing with him. The man finally spoke up, having glanced up at the balcony of a nearby building, catching a glimpse of a sniper scope pointed straight at the lead punk's head. "Well... It's not like anything I say will be of any value to you, seeing as you cunts feel it's okay to kill me just because I am Russian." He snidely remarked. The lead punk's face turned from laughter to twisted anger. He bent down to look at the man's face. "The fuck did you just say to me, you Ivan bitch?" He angrily asked. The man chuckled. "It's the end of the line for you all." He said before finally, a shot being fired rang through the air. One of the punk's heads then had just exploded into a fountain of blood, the other punks looking around for the shooter in sheer horror. 

"What the fuck?!! Boss! The fuck is going on!" A lot of the goons drew out their guns and began pointing them in whatever direction they thought the sniper was in. The lead punk drew his bat and prepared to swing at the man's head. However, he was stopped mid-swing. The punk knew something was wrong. He hesitated to look for a moment, but slowly turned his gaze towards a stump where his right arm used to be, pouring out blood like a fountain. He focused on the wound, and screamed in pain, covering his new stump with his remaining left hand. He stumbled around, writhing and screaming in pain. "My fucking arm! It's fucking gone! You Ivans are fucking everywhere! What the fuck?!! Oh God this fucking hurts!" The punk screamed, writhing in pain on the ground, before finally, his head exploded from an incoming sniper rifle bullet. 

The rest of the goons, confused and scared began looking frantically for the killer, when one of them spotted the sniper scope in the distance and atop the balcony of a nearby apartment building. The building was about a hundred yards away, giving the sniper a clear advantage. The sniper was a woman. She was a young woman, wielding a Dragunov PK-38 anti-personnel sniper rifle. The goons who had guns began to open fire at the women, who had retreated into the door of the apartment she just outside of. Thai mafia men kept firing at the balcony, hoping to land a shot into the new target. Bullets shattered the glass of the window and the sniper leaped in front of the couch that was near the door and began using it for cover. She pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Madelyn, that's your cue. Kill them all." She said, before putting it away.

The sniper was a beautiful young woman, no more than twenty-two years of age. She had long, brown hair and deep red eyes. She was wearing a pink tank-top with a picture of a flower on it, white boy shorts, black, finger less gloves, and black combat boots. She raised her gun to her busty chest, and pulled on the cocking grip, as a shell popped out of the chamber and hit the ground. Still under a hail of bullets, her walkie-talkie gave her a response. "Alright, Rosa. Just get out alive. You did your thing, now let me do mine." Madelyn responded on the other end.

Madelyn appeared from out of a shadow in an alleyway next to the tied up man. While the goons were too busy focusing on Rosa. Madelyn drew her katana from its scabbard and tossed it aside. She then charged the first few goons, stabbing one from behind through his heart. The goon next to the first victim took notice and began pointing his gun at Madelyn. However, before he could make a shot, she sliced off his shooting hand, following by lobbing off his head with a clean swipe. The other goons took notice and began firing at Madelyn, but she was dodging every bullet, slicing up goons left and right. Finally, there was only one goon left. He had fallen to the ground, scared and urinating in his pants. "Please don't kill me! I'll give you whatever you want! I swear! I wanna live!" He screamed before being stabbed in his groin. 

His pain intensified as the beautiful, yet cruel Madelyn twisted the blade after she had stabbed the goon. He passed out from the pain before breathing his last breath. 

Madelyn, a beautiful woman, had long, silver hair with deep yellow eyes, a result of certain gifts. She had a face that was no older than twenty-one. Madelyn had a murderous aura about her at the moment, but it faded as she turned her attention to the man who had been tied up. "Zack, you just can't stay out of trouble, can you? Fucking dork." She said, walking towards Zack, who survived his ordeal, but felt as if he had just barely made it out alive. "Tactless as ever, Madelyn, but I'm glad you came in time. Lord knows what would have happened if I had died." Zack said snidely, but was eternally grateful he had been saved on such short notice. "Well... I personally wouldn't want to deal with Natalia when she's pissed off. So, I came to save you." Madelyn commented. Rosa came out of the apartment building she had just been shooting from and ran up to Madelyn and Zack.

Zack sighed in relief that the ordeal was at least half-over. Now, he could finally get back to his mission.