"Lieutenant Langlands reporting in,"
"Copy Sierra Alpha Mike,"
"Evac complete. Proceeding towards central office structure. Over,"
I'm Sub-lieutenant Adam Langlands. Naval intelligence officer. I'm It's my birthday, I'm eighteen today. Not a very good party, something about a terrorist plot spoils the whole day doesn't it?. You may be thinking I'm a little young to be an officer, but I'm not. My parents died when I was fourteen. I grew up pretty quick, and skipped a lot of teenager problems. Rather than going to an orphanage, I applied for emancipation, and got it. So I convinced my friend Vicky Holmes' family to let me stay with them. Yet I digress, I should be focused on the mission at a time like this, and not formulating a surprisingly coherent inner dialogue. I've killed three terrorists today, Gesling, Yukolov, and Semore. All Russian, and stupid for having an ID with them during an attack on the United States.
Five shots fired, thus far. I empty my clip slowly, as there isn't a particular time limit on this assignment, and reload my special issue M1911. Now I need to get into this main office, and I'll be done for the day, filing and reports not withstanding. I can't just barge into a firefight, they may have hostages, and I have on only light plating, designed for mobility. I spot a luckily sized air duct large enough for me to fit through, and once accessing it, I get a nice vector on the room.
Three hostages atypically located in the middle of the room, and 7 armed guards. Dealing with seven isn't going to be easy. i can't use any explosives or I might hurt the hostages, nor do I have time to coordinate a clean breach with stand by squads. Incapacitate, and eliminate. Breath, breath focus, and ready. I slid the grate away, and toss my two m84 stun grenades to opposite sides of the room, after plugging my ears of course. After seeing the flash reflected I pop up, and fire. Here is what's called bullet time, its a bit different for me, I have a rare variant of savantism, known as serious savantism. Unlike typical variants of the syndrome I can control it. On a whim, or under severe stress I can unlock amazing mental, and physical capabilities in exchange for not my intelligence, or some other cognitive function, but get terrible headaches and migraines depending upon the length and extent to which I pushed myself, so unlike most, I'm going to remember this adrenaline fueled moment, and experience it even slower than others.
After firing the eleven shots, 3 on the first, two on the second and third, one for the rest. I'm in this moment, waiting for them to fall, and my action for the day to be over. While waiting I figure how far away they all are, and memorize their faces, unfortunately I'll never forget them. Simultaneously I'm outlining my report, and scripting my comments, and statements to my superiors, and the hostages. It took an hour to outline the events to my superiors, and two to make the written reports. Now I have some night classes to take, at my community college. I got my double major at the naval academy, and now I'm getting some medical, and technical skill classes put behind me, just for reference and all that. Vicky is going to be mad that I missed dinner today, but she'll understand all the black ink I did, and how I did a bunch of redacted stuff. As you may have guessed the incident, I corrected never happened as far as the media is concerned.
"Hey Vicky, I'm really sorry I couldn-"
"Stop, let me guess... You had to file some reports about stuff that never happened? They should take it easy on you for your birthday."
"Well... yes actually. You're getting good at this, You might as well be dating a spy," I then kissed her as the lecture began.
