ACRO

The Last One

The sky was navy blue in colour, fading away into a pale orange glow of the setting sun, to the far west. Indeed a beautiful view.

Right below the blanket of the pristine sky; lay land full of men, women and along with them: evil. The human race has one trait, that made it as strong as it has become now.

Intelligence.

With intelligence came power, with power came competition, and with competition came evil. Land is no more Adam and Eve's paradise created by God; it is now a prison sentence to the demons, and a good way to dump all the trash of the heavens to this wasteland, called;

Earth.

*

The streets of Lebanon echoed with gunshots and the air was full of smoke. The locals clamoured hysterically, scattering here and there, as two large groups of fighters fired at each other from across the road.

The first group that stood fighting, in order to protect the building rooted to the ground behind them, which the other group wanted to get inside of, fired relentlessly with their machine guns. They were heavily armed, and armoured due to their bulletproof cargo war suits and face masks, something new the Islamic terrorist organisations had come up with.

These men weren't the usual terrorist groups. They had order, discipline and evident training. They fought like soldiers, just as good as the other team, but the leader in charge of their team, wasn't as smart as the leader they fought against.

The other team however, were in casual clothes to disguise themselves formerly, as they were now openly shooting, without caring about being undercover.

They worked undercover, anyway.

One of the members of the second team, who had taken cover behind a car, now sat down, in order to reload his gun.

He pressed a button on his earpiece and spoke into it, over the sound of the gunshots.

"This is Agent Wallbanger. Royce, do you copy?" he spoke into it, his pure gold hair falling on his forehead.

"This is Agent Royce. Copy." spoke a female static voice on the other line.

"We've got their attention. You guys are clear. Get in and tell me when you reach the first floor." he said, his green eyes focused on reloading his gun.

"Thanks, Harry." said the woman.

The man stood up and resumed shooting along with the men standing beside him.

"Moodley, do you have the grenade launcher ready?" he asked, talking into his earpiece whilst firing.

The man to receive the message stood prepared, on the roof of the building next to the one being protected by the first group, with the grenade launcher. His slender brown hair shone in the orange glow of the setting sun and his hazel eyes focused on the targets, that were the first group of men.

"Ready, officer." he spoke, pointing the rifled barrel on the centre of the line of men.

"On my mark, everyone takes cover." Said Harry, causing an overflow of static messages of every agent present across the road fighting with him, saying "copy".

The next moment, his earpiece beeped and the same female voice spoke in it.

"We're on the first floor."