Day 2, 2304HRS
Still somewhere in the desert

Of course, nobody said it would be easy. I’d be insulted at the suggestion. Reload, try again. This time you won’t be so lucky, villain.

Take out the guard from above, zip down, move from cover to cover. Evade, escape. I get back to the truck again. This time, I’ll use my two seconds of grace to move close enough to take out that bothersome crow in his nest. There’s a concrete blockade just beyond the truck I can duck behind, where his forehead will be in ample range for a tranquilizer dart to pinpoint. I draw the attention of the moving terrorist, knock him out and ready my plan.

Success! I reach the cover unnoticed. Now, time to enact phase two. Swerve, and… I’m still out of range! And I’ve used my evasion already! Hells bells, he’s firing!

I put my head back down and contemplate my next move, before my hand is forced. The staccato gunfire draws reinforcements, and they close in on my position, suppressing me with hails of lead.

This is no time for subtlety. I lunge upwards, tranq gun readied, primed to pump them so full of darts that they’ll be walking funny for months...


Day 2, 2345HRS
Still somewhere in the desert again

Reload, take out first guard, zip, evade, positioned. I’m not giving these guys enough credit. They deserve my respect as worthy adversaries. I’m better than they are, I just need to use all my faculties to best them. The direct approach is often the best. No hiding this time, I’ll spring from behind the truck, sprint silently to the tower and dispose of that eagle-eyed bastard myself.

Three, two, one, go! The evasion skill activates and counts down, my noiseless foot thumps attracting no attention from the patrolling sentry below. Two, one, time’s up, but I’m not out of the tower’s line of sight yet! He sounds the alarm, but before he’s able to open fire I’m pressing against the tower’s trunks. The patrolling guard turns, and I pounce. My fist drills into his face and his nose is fired out of his ear at high speed, his body crumpling onto the dirt. Non-lethal, sort of. He’ll probably live.

Now for that damned human searchlight. I spin on the spot, reach the base of the ladder and climb. This time, there’ll be nothing stopping me from completing my objective. The stamp of my boots on the rungs count down to bed time for Terry Terrorist. Six, five, four, three, two, ready or not, here I co-

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