A Dangerous Mind Series, Book One: A Game of Try Not to Die

This story is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered original fiction. The series in its entirety is called A Dangerous Mind,  and it will be composed of several books. Each book, in turn, will be composed of several chapters.

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A Dangerous Mind 

Book One : A Game of Try Not to Die 

In the midst of a cruel storm, the rules of the game remain the same: Emerge as a victor, or pay with your life.

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Chapter I 

The Warfare Tactician 

14th February, five years ago. 

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, followed by the booming echo of thunder. As if on cue, the violent winds started tugging at the trees of the surrounding area, the dark clouds huddling together ominously. A heavy downpour soon swept the landscape viciously, but even then it barely put out the flames that had started to consume the unassuming laboratory at the very heart of the forest.

“Clear the building!” the twenty-two-year-old head of the operation barked, gesturing for the others to follow him. Together with three of his men, Maxwell Francis had been the one to set the government laboratory on fire – the signal that he and the rest of the team had agreed upon to coordinate their movement.

“As soon as the fire breaks out, you are to leave the premises,” he told them. “Once I give this signal, it means we’ve retrieved what we need. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir!”

The man gritted his teeth, running away from the building as far and as quickly as possible. He felt his frustration rise up in his chest as he glanced over to the men fleeing with him, cursing himself for his arrogance and naiveté.

He had failed. The whole team had failed. The purpose of tonight’s mission was to capture the experimental headquarters that housed the government’s most dangerous weapons and use whatever was there against the regime itself. The plan was simple enough, or so it had seemed: Launch a surprise attack, kill off everyone who was in the facility, and seize the place together with the armaments that were being kept there.

Everything had been accounted for, every single action that would be undertaken that evening premeditated and deliberate. Everything, but one: the recent weaponry that had been transferred to the facility only two days ago. Even Maxwell didn’t have any idea what those weapons could be, but he’d heard rumors that these were unusual pieces of artillery – a special set that the government had invested a lot of research and money into.

He had thought it was ridiculous. Whatever the government could come up with, the Underground could imitate, and even better. They had the element of surprise to back them up, and they outnumbered the people designated to guard the place. He had been so certain that victory would be theirs – or at least until he found more than half of his men slaughtered less than ten minutes into the mission.

Maxwell spat, feeling the soft ground against his combat boots as he ran. Failure.  The word echoed in his head like an irrevocable curse, followed by a mental image of a condescending younger man shaking his head. He could almost imagine the contempt in the eyes of the boy if he found out what had happened.

“You mean you failed?” the young man would say, with an expression as bland as his tone. “It seems I’ll have to clean up after your mess again.”