10 [Prologue Of The War] - First Step In The Chaotic World

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The atmosphere at Camp Lehigh was tense as Sergeant Jones answered the ringing telephone with a crisp "Yes, Sir!", on the other end. He listened intently to the voice on the line, the gravity of the conversation etched on his face. After a few moments, he respectfully put down the receiver and glanced at the document in his hand.

With a deep breath, Sergeant Jones stood up from his chair and walked purposefully across the room.

As the Sergeant walked out into the field, he could hear a raucous crowd of Privates cheering and shouting.

As he drew closer, the sounds became clearer and he could make out the chants of "Brooklyn!" and "Manhattan!".

Curiosity piqued, the Sergeant silently slipped into the throng of soldiers and saw two men at the center of the crowd, fists raised in combat.

He watched intently as the oval-faced blonde soldier took a left hook from his square-faced opponent, and then shrugged it off with a shake of his head.

The two men continued to exchange blows, their movements accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of fists connecting with flesh.

The blonde dodged another hook and retaliated with a punch to the stomach, causing his opponent to stagger backward in pain. The blonde soldier seized the opportunity and closed the distance between them, raining down blows on his adversary's stomach and head.

* THUMP *

* THUMP *

* THUMP *

But the brown-haired soldier refused to go down without a fight, and with a sudden burst of energy, he delivered a powerful punch to the blonde's liver.

* THUMP *

The sound of the impact echoed across the field as the blonde's body convulsed in agony. He stumbled back, desperately trying to create some distance between himself and his opponent, but the brown-haired soldier was relentless, closing in on him with a sinister smile.

The blonde, now panicked, threw a right hook, but his opponent blocked it and attacked his liver once again.

* THUMP *

The impact was deafening as the blonde's body recoiled in pain. But the brown-haired soldier was not finished yet. With a left hook aimed straight at the blonde's chin, he struck a devastating blow, causing blood and teeth to fly from the blonde's mouth as he collapsed to the ground.

* THUMP *

* THUD *

The crowd erupted into cheers and groans as the Sergeant watched in amazement. But as the dust settled, he noticed something remarkable: the brown-haired soldier's whole demeanor had changed. He stood tall and proud, bellowing with delight as he reveled in his victory. The Sergeant couldn't help but be impressed. "Corporal Westbrook!" he yelled, scaring the Privates around him.

The commotion and cheers of the crowd died down as everyone rushed to form up and salute the Sergeant. Ian quickly raised his hand to his forehead in a sharp salute. The Sergeant acknowledged the gesture with a nod of his head before pointing to the unconscious blonde soldier and barking out an order, "Take care of him, Private!"

Then, the Sergeant turned his attention to Ian and commanded, "In my office, now!" The other soldiers watched in silence as the Sergeant marched away, his footsteps fading into the distance. With the authority figure out of sight, the soldiers relaxed and gathered around Ian, patting him on the back and offering congratulations for his victory. A few of them picked up the injured blonde soldier and rushed him toward the medical care room, hoping that he would recover quickly.

Ian stood in the Sergeant's office, his body wrapped in bandages after the brutal fistfight that had taken place only moments ago. The room was silent except for the rustle of papers as the Sergeant read through reports and signed documents. Ian watched silently, his mind racing with curiosity and anticipation for what was to come.

Finally, the Sergeant pulled a file out of one of the drawers and handed it to Ian. "Orders from above came today," he said in a gruff voice. "You are assigned to this classified mission. Read the report and prepare yourself for it. Remember, all the details are classified."

Ian eagerly took the file and read through the report. His eyes widened with shock and surprise. "Who is the target, Sir?", he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

The Sergeant shook his head solemnly, "I don't have the clearance to know. Maybe, they will tell you during the mission briefing."

After exiting the Sergeant's office, Ian made his way toward the barracks, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the classified mission. Despite having read the report, he couldn't be completely sure about the target, but the war had opened up a myriad of possibilities. Perhaps it was an informant hiding in Belgium or the Netherlands. As he walked, he remembered that this year, Dr. Erskine would be rescued and brought to the camp. Ian let out a sigh, still unsure whether he could get close to the doctor or the serum before time.

Lost in thought, Ian barely registered the sight of his fellow soldiers bustling around the barracks as they prepared for the day ahead. As he walked to his bunk, he took out the file and read through the report again, trying to glean any additional information that might aid him in his mission. But the report remained vague as if deliberately hiding something from him. Frustrated, Ian put the file away and began to mentally prepare himself for the unknown challenge that lay ahead.

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