//-------------------------------------------------------// Cold Wynter -by Explosions- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue The world is plunged into World War III. Russia, China, and America fall into the cold, dead grasp of war. The world is on the brink of destruction as new Anti-Matter ZX79 Nuclear Warheads are threatened to be used by all three of the warring countries. The American Special Operations units are spread thin as it is, trying to prevent the missiles from being launched in various locations, as well as completing numerous other tasks. Douglas M. Wynters, one of these specially trained units, is on a mission with his team that may very well change the way this war is heading. Mission Code Name: Fire & Ice Mission Target: Intel on The 62nd Fleet's Whereabouts Operatives: Cpt. Douglas "Red" Wynters                       Lt. Ryan "Scorch" Reef                       SSGT. Louis "T-Bone" Clapton                       Pvt. I Eric "Glass" Sanders                       Pvt. Fred "English" Troys Douglas and his men were currently somewhere in the Arctic Circle, on their way to collect intel on the infamous Russian 62nd fleet and its position. Douglas made his way into the stealth bomber's bomb bay. His men were scattered throughout the large aircraft, doing miscellaneous things. They varied between reviewing current intel on their T4C Informational Briefing Pads, or the Tac pad as it was dubbed. They were rechecking their gear to make sure they had everything they needed on this mission. Scorch looked up and saw Douglas. "Captain on deck!' Scorch shouted to the men nearby. They all rest of the men stood at Attention. "At ease!. Alright boys, We're only ten minutes out!” Douglas shouted. “I want each of you ready at the back hatch with your 'chutes on your back and secured in five!" The men immediately made their way to the back hatch, gathering chutes and gear on their way there. Douglas started to make his way to the restroom to wash off any pre-mission jitters. He never actually got them anymore, the habit stuck with him and became a tradition to him. Douglas entered the restroom and started washing his face in cold water. His mind started to fill with horrid imagery of what would happen if he failed this mission. San Francisco would be nuked along with the rest of the West Coast. People throughout America would panic. Nuclear missiles would be launched on Russia and China, only for them to retaliate and launch nukes at us.'No!' he thought. In his head it was like a scream. This, with the frustrated expression on his face, put him in a state of unrest. He started getting a bad feeling. ‘We will not loose this mission!’ he shouted to himself again. Just as Douglas finished washing up, an explosion shook the plane. "T-Bone, What the Hell was that!?" Douglas shouted through the comm. No response was heard. “T-Bone!?" A sudden sound came from the comm. "Sir! This is Scorch, we've been compromised!” He stopped and coughed, some gun fire was heard. “Glass is placing bombs in the plane! T-bone and English are down! Sir he-" The sound of choking was heard as more gunfire sounded. Douglas swore under his breath and made his way through the plane with his Scar L23 drawn, looking for Glass. Douglas entered the bomb bay and saw that the door was singed and burnt in multiple areas. He made his way through a doorway and saw the charred bodies of what presumably was T-bone and English. ’They deserved better than this’ Douglas thought to himself. He sighed and kept moving through the bomb bay to see Scorch's corpse next to a wall. There were two bullet wounds in his head, and a GH79 Explosive device on his body. Douglas disarmed it with a U-CAT hacking device. He tore the bomb off of Scorch's body and safely placed it behind him. Douglas kept walking to find bombs planted in numerous areas on the walls in front of him. Suddenly, Douglas heard footsteps approaching him. He spun around to see Glass. He gave a confused look. His teammate sitting there, with a bomb detonator in his hand. "There you are, I've been looking all over for you." Glass said, with an grin on his face. "Why did you do this?” Douglas asked with confusion and anger. “We've been Team mates for years!” "What?" Glass replied, snickering. His snickering became laughter as he shook his head, looking at the floor. He brought himself to face Douglas. “You really thought I was on your side?” “You’re American!” Douglas shouted. “You’re on the American side! The good side!” “Good side?” Glass spat out, laughing again. “I am on the good side, the Chinese Covert operations.” “How could you?!” Douglas shouted. His tone showed anger, as did his expression. He thew down his weapons. “Fight me! Hand to Hand! You’ve ruined what manliness is left of you, might as well keep some of it.” "Sorry, but we only have about four minutes until we reach the rig and I would prefer that the Russians don't see our plane crash." Glass said. He placed his thumb on the detonation button. Douglas lunged forward, but Glass moved out of the way and sent Douglas  towards one of the crates. “M-M-Mmm!” Glass said mockingly. He chuckled and continued, “This plane is going down!” In that moment, Douglas heard a click. Like a calm before the storm. It was as if time slowed down, all of the bomb lights turned from green to red as they detonated, sending shrapnel and dust everywhere. The altitude, combined with the oxygen being sucked out of the plane nearly suffocated Douglas as he began to choke and was thrown into a side of the plane. He grabbed hold of something, watching Glass fall out of the plane. Douglas made his way to the safety room, grabbing an oxygen mask and securing himself inside. He prayed to any God that may have existed that he lived. It was night time. Luna, younger sister to Celestia and princess of the night, had just raised the moon. She was sitting outside and watching the night sky, wondering to herself why no pony would stay out and watch it. She sat down and sighed. Suddenly an odd noise sounded. A loud noise. Luna’s ears perked up as she turned her head to see a triangular mass of flaming plane falling from the sky. Of course, she did not recognized it. She thought it was alien, therefore took it as a threat and called a messenger guard. “Guards!” she shouted, still looking at the thing. Her voice showed a bit of panic. Two guards standing outside her door rushed in with magic ready and spears drawn. "Your highness?" The the guard said, standing reverent to her. His partner nudged him and pointed to the large mass of fire. “I need a message sent to the Commandant of Special Operations at this very moment!” Luna ordered. “Tell him it’s urgent and that he must meet with me as soon as possible!” ”Yes, your highness." Both of the guards said, saluting.  They walked out to send the message. As the guards left, Luna approached a telescope on her balcony and examined the object. She wasn’t sure, but the writing on it looked…Human. “No…” She said to herself. “It can’t be…” If this was what it looked like, she would have to consult their Inter-Dimensional Barrier Security. Commandant Shadow Swift was dreaming about his family in Canterlot. Such nice days back then. He was just about to say something to one of his friends before he was awoken suddenly by of the night guards. "Commandant Swift!” the guard shouted through the door. Swift got up and onto his hooves and walked to the door. "What is it?" He asked, rather furiously due to his rude awakening. “The Princess wishes to speak with you!” the guard replied. “It’s urgent!” Swift opened the door up quickly. “Wait…what happened?” Swift asked, seeming to be in worry. “We have no briefing sir, only…” the guard paused for a moment. “Only what we saw, something large, breaking through the sky.” “Dear Celestia…” Swift said. “Tell her I’ll be on my way.” "Yessir!" The guard said, saluting. He started to walk back to Luna's Chamber. ’I didn't sign up to be a messenger.’ The guard thought to himself.