Chapter 1

"Sir, the lights are out and no movement is detected. Permission to begin operation."

"Proceed."

Soundless feet rushed across empty farmland under the shadow of a cloudy night sky. Just as they are swift, they are silent. Three figures surround a small two story house set in the middle of what used to be thriving grassland. Yards off a fourth figure surveyed the area from atop an abandoned barn. As he studied the land, the house, and his team, he attached a scope to his modified .50 caliber M107, an anti material rifle commonly used against armored vehicles.

"Shadow 1 in position."

"Shadow 2 in position."

"Shadow 3 in position."

"Shadow 4 in position,all clear, begin mission."

Simultaneously the three shadow figures on the ground entered the house. One proceeded through the front door while the other two entered through the back door. The shadow figures swept through the first floor quietly, carefully checking every corner and possible hiding spot. They all met at the bottom of the staircase leading to the second floor. With an exchange of hand gestures they signaled to one another that the first floor had been checked and cleared. Slowly they proceeded upstairs to continue their search. Carefully they began their sweep of the second floor with far more discretion that they had given the floor below them. The three shadows ended their search in the master bedroom. With no sign of life detected a shadow figure raised his hand to the communicator around his neck.

"This is Shadow one. Search complete. No tangos in sight. Commencing withdra...."

Before Shadow one could finish his sentence a powerful force ravaged the second floor sending the shadow figures through the walls and onto the ground outside. The Shadow figure positioned on top of the barn quickly readied his rifle and scanned the area. He spotted the figure of a woman walking out of what was left of the house.

"This is Shadow four. Tango spotted. Taking shot."

Shadow four fixed his cross hairs on the woman's face and fired a round without hesitation. Through an intense muzzle flash a bullet flew from his weapon and created a sound that tore through the night like cannon fire. The bullet raced across the field in an instant and found itself face to face with its intended target. the two met with an incredible explosion. Dust and smoke swirled violently, blanketing the area. Shadow four patiently watched through the scope to confirm a kill. As the dust settled and the smoke began to subside a cold chill ran down the agent's back as if being stroked by death himself. From the other side of his lens he peered deep into the untouched eyes of his target. The cold blue eyes leering back at him pierced deeper that any bullet he had ever fired. Forcing himself to move, he slowly began to stand and felt hands firmly gripping both the back of his head and jaw. The last thing he saw was another woman who was standing behind him.

Miles away in a dark office a laptop was being closed by a pair of old hands. From behind an antique desk of walnut stood a suited man. He walked away form his desk and to the window on the other side of the room. He stood fixed for a moment. Staring at the city far below him. His eyes moved form one end of the landscape the the next. Inhaling deeply he began looking at his own reflection. He shook his head in disappointment and let out a sigh. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a sleek black cell phone with a sort of futuristic design. He pressed a button and then raised the phone to his ear.

"I just received the video feed from your clearly botched attempt to do what I asked. I am very disappointed and beginning to wonder if I hired the wrong man for the job!"

From the other side on the line a low whisper gave a very uninterested reply.

"I was watching too. You withheld information on the targets and my men were ill prepared. Whats more they obviously knew we were coming. Either their psychic too or you and your people have an information leak."

In a more irritated voice the old man gave a sharp reply.

"I you are implying that I tipped them off or that I am incapable on controlling my people I swear I'll..."

The old man was cut off by a voice that was now cold and sinister.

"You'll do nothing, and if you try to threaten me again you'll be nothing. Now find the leak and handle your people. By the way, my rates just increased. I'll be in touch."

The old man swallowed a lump in his throat as he lowered the phone and placed it back in his pocket. He looked into his own eyes for moment before returning to his desk. He plops down in an executive leather chair. He rolled closer to the desk and reached for the bottom drawer and produced a 62 year old bottle of the Dalmore, and expensive scotch which taste remarkably like a cup of warm Colombian coffee and milk. He pours himself a glass and drains it in one gulp, completely disregarding the taste and experience of such a fine liquor. After 3 more shots he sits back in the chair and allowed himself to fade into sleep.