The Intelligence BureauMature

Sam Winter is an extra-ordinary child, he was orphaned young and then taken into the FBI this is is story.

The Intelligence Bureau

Somewhere in Sydney, Australia, FBI Broadcast

_Mission Briefing_

Agent 6014,

You have been chosen to take the principle role in our espionage and surveillance operation. You are entitled to back out of the mission and it will not be held against you, here is what the mission entails: You will go under-cover as an average 16 year-old (Your own age) and infiltrate the organization known as A.O.E as a junior drug runner. We have an operative that will promote you to a bodyguard; from there you will gather intel on their operations. Once this is done we will fake your death to relieve you of your mission, until then you will attend Sydney High School.  

Two weeks Later Sydney, Australia

Sam Winter was tied to a thick pole that had been rammed into the ground; he was fully conscious but was pretending only to be semi-conscious. Using his long slender fingers he felt the durable ropes that encased his wrists, he instinctively knew that the knots were weak but the rope was tight. He slotted his skilled utensils, his fingers, in between the gaps in the rope; slowly he began to untie the gnarled baubles in the rope using the skills that had been beaten into him like a branded mark. The rope soon became limp, but Sam held it in place so the brutish guards who had put him there wouldn’t notice.

 Next he slowly slipped his right hand into his pocket; there he felt the smooth wreath that made up his pockets inside. He felt the stitches in the bottom corner, with his index finger’s razor sharp nail he picked them away revealing; a small pouch which contained a small Swiss Army Knife. He quickly took the cold, yet comforting metal weapon and hastily retracted his hand; he flicked the blade out and dropped it behind him. However it was with such precision it severed the thick cords that attached him to the sentinel post. Next he craned his neck sideways and let out a small pained whine; the security camera picked this up and consequently a guard entered the sandy stadium. The man carried a sub-machine gun, and had a pistol strapped to his thigh.

Once Sam thought he was close enough he lashed out knocking the sub-automatic weapon away, it exploded with power and bullets pumped the thin-air, and then Sam followed up with a knee in the groin and a hit with the heel of his hand into the man’s chin. The man let out a groan of intense pain, but lay silent from then on. Sam fired up with adrenaline retrieved his Swiss Army Knife and stripped the man of his weapons; he did this leisurely and methodically. He tucked the pistol, a Sig Sauer P229, in to the waistband of his torn and dusty track-suits. He pocketed the knife and slung the MP-5K’s strap over his torso before he sprinted towards the door. Waaaaw-Waaaaw! The siren screamed as an automated voice declared monotonously “Un-authorised personnel in main block sub-section 23. Unit 5 to intercept enemy personnel.” Sam got to the door but it was locked with a retinal scanner and that was the only way Sam could open the door.

He went back over to the fallen guard and dragged his limp body over to the scanner; sure enough the door slid open. He was met by armed guards they were in A.O.E tactical gear and were essentially the same the injured guard, they were cautious and so told him to put the weapon down and get on his knees. Sam complied but when next to the downed guard he pulled the pin of a flash grenade on the man’s tactical harness. Smoked billowed out and in the ensuing confusion Sam retrieved his weapon and rolled into an inlet. The enemy didn’t shoot for fear of hitting their fallen comrade. When the smoke cleared Sam was out of sight, the guards spoke muffled words into their com radios and helped the injured man to his feet, and then they turned away and went back down the corridor. Sam stepped out from his hiding spot and fired three quick bursts and the man sank to the ground dead. Sam was shaken but knew that it was him or them. He quickly ran over to the fallen troopers and gathered their ammo and flash bangs and also unhooked one of the com devices so he could keep tabs on the facilities other guards. He moved down the corridor and saw rusted steel girders protruding from the ceiling but being cut off near the bottom, and sure enough there was a hole in the floor where the girder once past through. Without hesitation Sam lowered himself through the hole and dropped…

He hit the floor and rolled to his feet, he looked around. The corridor was deserted and dark; it was cavernous and made every drop of water from the broken pipe echo ominously. Tentatively Sam stepped forwards, the footsteps reverberating causing Sam to spin around in alarm. Sam continued for another 30 seconds when a shaft of light fell on the ground, Sam followed the light into a small basement room. Pipes snaked round the room and at the end of the metallic coils were control-hubs; they were parallel to a narrow staircase that was bathed in light. Sam quietly stalked up the stairs and craned his neck to see around the corner; two guards stood there they seemed relaxed despite the news of an escaped prisoner.

Sam guessed that the news had spread, but should he take the risk of trying to blag his way past these guards? He answered the question by accidentally knocking a pipe with his gun; quickly he stepped out of the shadows. If he didn’t then they would surely be on alert. He walked confidently forwards and nodded to the guards; one said ‘hi’ but the other stayed mute. Sam walked past their checkpoint and into the back-lot of the ware-house. He crossed the distance slowly but with a sense of urgency; he soon saw the gap in the top of the perimeter fence.

He quickly looked around, but then dropped his MP5 and ran at the fence; he leapt into the air and using his parkour vaulted the dip. He then began to run; as he was leaving he saw the oil-tank that sat on the outside of the compound. Quickly he ran over to it and whipped out his Sig Sauer P229 and fired through the thick outer coating of metal. There was a loud Ping! but no-one noticed. Next he took out his knife and scarping it against the gravel that littered the ground a spark was produced. Sam decided to dip his knife in the oil and create a trail. Next he stood at the end of the trail, about 50 meters away and again produced a spark, and then he ran as the oil caught alight and became a makeshift fuse. Sam was another 100 meters away from the oil tank but still felt the hot air that rippled straight into his back. The explosion was magnificent but Sam didn’t stop running…

The End

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