It’s been 6 years to the day that the First Nuclear missile was used in war. 6 years since the destruction and rebirth of the UN, the seemingly endless stream of chaos and civil wars between lesser nations across the world. It’s been a hellish 6 years. For Sergei Zbormirov, a Squadron Leader in the rouge Russian Spetsnaz Unit 9 Mercenary force, the last 6 years were a blessing of opportunity. The mercenary Spetsnaz unit had made a fortune by nations looking to expand, but afraid of an all out war. War was much different now days. Nations didn’t simply “invade and conquer” others anymore. Not after Doomsday, now its just Guerrilla groups and mercenaries sponsored by national government, almost reminiscent of the Taliban in the Soviet-Afghan war. Now Sergei was part of the invasion in the Czech Republic, sponsored by the polish government the only remaining opposition to the Polish takeover was the Prime Minister, a vigilant anti-war government figure. Eliminating him would allow Poland to seize the government easily. Sergei looked around at his squad mates beside and around him in the chopper. The 4 of them were clothed in black body armor, gas masks, and a silenced weapon. Sergei then lowered his gaze to his own blackened and silenced Russian Made P90. The weapon had been modified, both by professionals and Sergei, making it unique. The magazine had been expanded to include 25 more bullets, and the chamber modified so that he could fire .50 Caliber bullets if necessary. A red dot scope had replaced the iron sights, and the trigger guard had been altered. He merely had to light his finger upon the trigger for it to fire, and the weapon had also been sanded down to shorten and flatten the device, allowing for easier concealment and faster draw times. There was no safety. His comrade at arms next to him, a childhood friend, Ivan Titiov fiddled with the safety on his Remington Model 700 Sniper Rifle. All five Russians looked up as a voice came over the intercom system.
“Were reaching the outskirts of Prague… going black, stand by for insertion”
Sergei slowly inserted the magazine of ammunition into his P90, listening to the grating sound as the metal scraping against metal, sliding coolly into place, and making a satisfying click when it stopped. He looked up again when Ivan motioned towards the open door, where Sergei glanced over, and saw the sprawling Czech capital whizzing below beneath him.
“Looks like Afghanistan all over again” Ivan said “the only difference is we aren’t being shot at…yet.” The Chopper glided silently over the sleeping city of Prague and settled down in an empty lot about 2 blocks from the Prime Minister’s house. The five man team quickly shot out of the helicopter and pressed themselves against the walls of the lot, alert for any sign of their detection.
The information from his squad was fed into Sergei’s helmet through a small radio, which whispered to him;
“Clear” from across the lot
“Clear” from the alley entrance
“Clear” from the chopper pilot
“Clear” said Sergei, “Let’s move up. Were going silent, hold fire unless you have to. Maintain radio silence”

The five silent men swiftly filed out of the lot as the chopper lifted up and disappeared around a corner, their muffled movements and darkened weapons leaving no trace of their presence. They reached the wall around the Prime Ministers Compound. 6 UN peacekeepers stood out front, foreshadowing the numerous guards within the gates.
“Listen up team, were going to sneak right around those bastards. Follow me”
Sergei led his team through an alley and up a fire escape to the top of a small apartment. It was just barely higher then the wall around the compound, and provided a simple stepping stone over the wall.
“Ivan, I want you on over watch out here. Watch our backs and let us know if they have reinforcements show up.”
“Yes sir... Providing over watch”. Ivan crouched down and moved to a vantage point on the roof above the corner of the wall, providing him with a view of both the compound, and the roads leading to it.

“Everyone else-lets move” They dropped over the wall, mere shadows in the night. They slinked long the wall, pressed close against it as the neared the façade of the house.
They squeezed themselves lower, trying with all their might to remain invisible as the UN patrols marched around the small courtyard, waiting for the perfect moment to advance. They made slow progress, having to stop and drop down for a full 5 minutes as a guard walked outside, smoking his cigar. After a tantalizing 5 minutes, the guard returned inside, throwing the remains of his cigar on the ground in front of Sergei’s face.

After another hour or so of stalking inside the building and searching for the Prime Ministers Office. Many rooms they entered were home to either legions of books, sleeping UN Peacekeepers, empty cubicle filled offices, or sitting rooms. It took all of the stealth and self control of his team to leave empty rooms full or money and opportunity behind, and find their target.

It was about 2 in the morning when Sergei, opening the thousandth door, slowly scanning across the room that he was blessed with the objective he was seeking. They had at last located the Prime Ministers Personal Office, where he was working at his desk, back turned to the door. Sergei motioned to his squad to group up on him, and prepare to breach and secure the room. On his signal, the team swept into the room, 2 men muffled and bound the Prime minister while the 4th secured the room, and Sergei closed the door with a last look outside.
“Ivan, we have the package. What is your status?” whispered Sergei into his headset.
“All clear so far. No new movement out here.”
“Good. Proceeding with mission”

Sergei turned and began to stride towards the Prime minister, who glanced over at him with fear filled eyes, watching the feet stride closer. Each step was strong and deliberate, making it clear the intentions of the owner of the legs. A countdown went on within the mind of the Prime minister, and each step was a different number. 10. 9 Sergei brought out a Silenced M9 pistol from his shoulder holster and a magazine from his belt. 7. 8. He slid the magazine up into the M9, bringing firearm and ammunition together in a single motion. 6. 5. Sergei then wrapped his hand around the grip, each finger falling into the contoured grip, and his finger falling inside the trigger guard. 4. 3. Sergei clicked off the safety, and pulled back on the cock, loading the first cartridge into the chamber.
2. Sergei Straightened out his arms, the pistol locked firmly in his grip, 1 hand on the grip, the other supporting the bottom. 1. The Prime minister squeezed his eyes shut as Sergei Stood over him.
“Good Night Mister Prime Minister”
.
.
.
.
The following day, the front page of the USA Daily pronounced loudly on its cover,
“Czech Republic Annexed by Poland, Czech president agrees to hand over government power to the Polish President, Artur Jagoda.” The story went on to describe how pleased both governments were with the annexation, next to a picture of the 2 leaders shaking hands in front of a cheering crowd. A short story on the 8th page, a mere 25 words long read as follows; “CZECH PRIME MINISTER FOUND DEAD” Cause of death a fatal shot to the head, it is unknown if it was suicide or assassination by a foreign group.