This is the story of a group of stereotypes going through an adventure like you've seen a thousand times before!
It was a dark and stormy night, and the loud, ground-shaking thunder camouflaged the sound of the C-130’s engines. Onboard the flying behemoth sat a group of soldiers ready to be deployed beyond enemy lines, sent on a suicide mission that only they could come out of alive.
They were a band of misfits and rejects who did not fit within the armed forces’ organizational structure. All of them were wild, fearless and the best at what they did. Some were a little bit off, others borderline psychotic – but they were the only men their country could trust with this vital mission.
One man stood at the back of the plane. An old soldier who had been through every war and armed conflict imaginable (and some you’ve never heard of). A scar went from the top of his head, down his left eye, through his lips and ended at his chin. No one knew how he got this mark. No one alive, that is. “Sargeant Storm, are your men ready?” He said with a voice so powerful and commanding that it would put the gods of Olympus to shame.
“Sir, yes they are, Colonel Hunter, Sir!”
Inside the plane the lights turned to red as the old officer pushed the button that opened the ramp of the Hercules. “I don’t have to tell you men how important this mission is. The fate of the world as we know it is in your hands. And if you won’t do it for the world, do it for your country, freedom and democracy! I don’t expect any of you to come back alive, but you’re the best we have. Hit them fast, hit them hard! In and out like lightning.”
On these words the twelve soldiers ran out the back of the plane and into the night. The colonel took a deep breath, and whispered in the wind. “May God have mercy on your souls.”