Coogi Short Jeans For Liberty

[chongliun2u]

"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. These are the ideals you are here to fight for. Unlike other times, don't expect to receive accolades for your duty tonight. Whether success or failure on this mission,Coogi Short Jeans, it never happened. Men, this mission before you is one of great importance, it could change the tide of this empire. This task entails that you, the eight soldiers that stand before me, are to infiltrate this highly guarded mansion and remove a fifty five year old, balding man. This man, a Mr. Walters, has been under suspicion by our group for corrupting the nation. Tonight, he will have a meeting with his top suppliers of weapons. Our inside source, Colonel Tyme, has informed us that Mr. Walters is obtaining these weapons for his private staff and intends to use them to force the people of this country mindlessly under his control. This man's corrupt ways must be stopped,ugg boots cheap, and they must be stopped tonight before all war breaks out."
As he finishes his last sentence of his speech, General Fielding lets out a great sigh of relief. The first part of his mission tonight is complete, now he just has to sit back and give commands to his field agents, and hope there are no casualties. General Fielding barks out the last orders that some of these men will ever hear and then asks " Any questions?"
Immediately the group of eight attentive and physically able soldiers snap to attention and say "No sir!" All but one.
That soldier, the youngest of the squad and the newest recruit nervously stumbles to find the words to ask his question. General Fielding barks "Spit it out Private Rites". Private Rites hesitantly asks the question lingering on his mind. "The Mister Walters you are talking about, that isn't President Walters, is it?"
General Fielding begins to answer the question when the rough, war torn veteran of the group comes up beside him.
Never one to wait for commands, the veteran and field commander, Lieutenant General Wolfe answers the Private. "You damn right soldier. Do you have a problem with that?"
Private Rites, fearing immediate dismissal from the group he worked so hard to enter responds quickly and confidently, "No Sir!"
Lieutenant General Wolfe grabs the sniper rifle beside him, and attaches the ocular scope as he takes control of his crew. "Suit up soldiers. We have fifteen minutes before departure."
The soldiers scatter and head toward their lockers to gather their gear. Private Rites follows the pack of soldiers, and takes a look back at Wolfe. Wolfe makes eye contact with him and his mouth forms a smirk. Rites' spirits lift and he rushes to catch up to the group. They walk in a flock toward their lockers, where they again disperse. Each man goes toward their respective lockers to coalesce and gather their things.
Colonel Tyme occupies the far most locker and flings it open with such vigor that his fervor for this mission is apparent. He stares at all the pictures of his ancestors. All war veterans who fought for American Liberty. Veterans from World War II, from World War I, and even veterans from as far back as the Civil War, the war that so closely resembles that which is on the horizon.
Next to Tyme resides the second Colonel of the bunch, Colonel Fert. One has to wonder how Fert even made it to his Colonel status. His locker is devoid of anything that expresses personality and display no real signs of military intelligence, yet there is something that is special about him. Just by nature, this man can comfort anyone around him. While he can not encourage them in the thick of battle, he can make them feel like they are an important part of the team. It is this innate and unique ability, along with probably the best marksmanship in the entire army, that caused him to be recruited for this mission of the utmost importance.
On the far end, furthest away from these men, lays Sergeant Gateris. Having been involved in over three wars, including two stays overseas on foreign soil, Gateris is as relaxed as can be. He has grown accustomed to this lifestyle. Life is war to the Sergeant. It is all he has known since the time he was sixteen, and he likes it like that. Nothing is more evident of this than the stickers that adorn his locker wall. "Strike them down." and "Shoot first, ask questions later." Gateris slowly, and calmly rises from his makeshift bed and grabs his kevlar vest from the locker and carefully straps it on. He cradles his gun, leaving the locker room visible ready for action. Ten minutes before departure.
The two men next to Gateris' position are the complete opposite of him. One is Private Rites, and the other, First Private Ford. Beside these two are the lockers of the more respected men of the group, Major Ridack and Sergeant Durman, both veterans of the most important battle of the Imperial War. The battle that claimed more lives then any battle ever in history.
Next to the two respected men resides the locker of Lieutenant General Wolfe. Presently closed, should on open it, they would view pictures and objects that are uncharacteristic of the rough, hardnosed man that command this elite task force. Images that show him as a committed family man, rolling in the snow with his daughter after the great blizzard. Another picture of his son playing golf, with proud father cheering him on in the background. Wolfe hides these images whenever he opens his locker. While caring so much about his family, he is very protective to separate home life and the military and does not want his troops to not respect him as much on the field. Little does he know that these images would just generate him more respect from the men under his command.
As the other troops are preparing to engage on not only this life altering, but world altering covert mission, Sergeant Gateris is preparing for something much more grave, yet ultimately rewarding. Gateris, who had departed early from the ready room, seems to have done so with some intention. He nonchalantly wanders around the area surrounding the base camp that he is on. While he uses the guise of smoking, a rather common practice before going on a mission, Gateris is actually receiving all the money that he would ever need. In the bushes on the side of the base camp is a man cloaked in the most accurate, expensive and up to date holographic technology there is.
While Gateris is smoking, this man sneaks two items into his pocket. One of them is a torn envelope, with the face of George Bush apparent in a green ink. Out of one corner of the envelope sticks the top of this image, it is in fact a one thousand bill. In Gateris' other pocket, the man places another item. This item is cloaked by the shadows and is extremely difficult to make out. But there was a shining reflection that seemed to emanate from it. The man whispers some words as he hands Gateris the letter. These sounds are so soft that they can't be picked up by the sensitive scanners of the base camp. Gateris drops his cigarette, and stomps it into the ground, extinguishing the flame. He walks back into the base, as his business seems to be done, for now. As Gateris meanders back into the base camp, he sees a mass of men in front of him. Clad in all black, K-n sniper rifles in hand and of course, adorned with bullet proof vests, six men stand in a circle. In the center of them, with pepper grey hair in a military style cut, and a plethora of scars on his face, including a prominent one that starts at the base of his neck and runs up to the cleft of his chin, stands the imposing figure of Lt. General Wolfe. Wolfe spots Gateris out of the corner of his eye and shouts " Sergeant, Come over here." Gateris briskly walks toward the circle of men and joins it. He looks down toward the ground to hide his eyes from direct contact with Wolfe. As he lowers his eyes he spots the tactical maps for the mission. Wolfe then proceeds to explain it, pointing out key locations as he does so. Once he completes his brief mission overview, Wolfe barks out the final commands that the crew will hear until they touch accomplish their mission. "Maintain radio silence once we get inside the tunnel and most of all, remember what you are fighting for."
At once, the group shouts out "Liberty!" Well, at least most of the group. Gateris lags behind, and says it with a faint hint of guilt in his voice.
The crew then place their high tech goggle headgear over their heads and let them slide down to their neck. They all head out of the base camp, with General Fielding looking on.
Fielding whispers with a hint of desperation "To liberty."
Private Rites, again stumbling in the back of the group whispers to First Private Ford " Where are we going?"
Ford turns back toward him and sends him a glare of mild disdain "To The Tunnels."
Rite has a puzzled look on his face "What tunnels?" Ford responds quickly, and quietly
"The ones the military built ten years ago when the country started to change." Rite stumbles to find the right words and final blurts out " Oh, that's right.". He quickens his pace and catches up with the rest of the group, as they march under the cover of night, toward The Tunnels.
The crew uses the cover of night to cloak their movements and within a matter of minutes arrive at a broken down, boarded up building. Sergeant Wolfe grabs the handle to the door and tries to open it, but it will not budge. He removes his gloves swiftly to get an even tighter grip, but still it will not open. Wolfe turns toward the crew and cracks a smile. He points toward his head, causing Rites to get a visibly puzzled look on his face.
Rites turns to Ford and mouths the words "What is he talking about?" Ford points his right index finger toward Wolfe. Rites sees the Lt. General push in on the door with little effort. It immediately swings open. Inside, the crew is greeted by the sight of cobwebs upon cobwebs that hang from the broken ceiling beams. There are chunks of wood everywhere, and the ground is covered by thousands of vermin, from insects to rats. Wolfe, who is still in front of the squad, removes a small scavenger knife from around his ankle. Grasping it so that he has one finger at the base of the blade for control, he makes a fairly straight cut through the first row of cobwebs. He proceeds to do that for the next few rows of cobwebs. The crew trudges through the mess of the building in his path, trying to avoid killing any of the creatures that scurry about. Wolfe cuts through the final row of cobwebs and in front of him lies a large rusted door.
The door is composed of pure titanium, to make it impenetrable by ordinary means. Standing about ten feet high, and 15 feet wide, it is large enough to allow access for a military issued jeep. To the right of the door is a keypad. Protected by special encrypting software, the door cannot be opened by any ordinary means. For one to gain access to The Tunnels that lie behind the two-inch thick door of lead, they have to be in the upper echelon of the military, or at least known someone to purchase the access code from. In this case, Wolfe has the code to gain entry, albeit unauthorized entry. He walks up to the pad, and from memory pecks in the code. Using his right pointer finger, he enters a 5, followed by 4,new era casquettes pas cher, 7, 2, and *.
He stands back and the door slowly opens up. Before the eight brothers in arms lies the pathway to either war or liberation. The light shines in their faces as they slowly march into the tunnel, ready to face their daunting task of eliminating the president. With this on his mind, Wolfe turns to his subordinates, but more importantly his comrades, and whispers his words with a valiant, yet sympathetic tone. "For liberty." With those words they start to quicken their pace toward the underground recesses of The White House.Topics related articles：


puma sneaker 分庭抗礼