It was an unusually quiet morning in Brisbane. The sun had just started to come up, and the fog had rolled in from the south and encompassed the streets of the third most populous city in all of Australia. General Barton McBride watched the sunrise from one of the taller skyscrapers in the city. The city was already starting to wake up, and the early morning traffic was beginning to form down below. McBride felt a light tap on his shoulder, and a sigh found itself escaping his mouth. The General spun around in his swivel chair and turned back towards his desk. To Barton’s left stood his personal secretary, Miss Taylor White. She had the same patient look she always did on her face. Barton raised his coffee mug up to his round, cleanly shaven face and took a sip.”Yes, Miss White?” Barton asked, his voice rather agitated. What did she need at this hour? The general had only just arrived a few minutes ago and started his morning routine. 

“I’m sorry to bother you sir, I know you like to be alone around now, but it’s urgent. Doctor Andrews is waiting outside. He says he has something you need to see. I asked what it was, but he said it was classified.” The small, dark skinned secretary explained.”Let the doctor in.” McBride answered a solemn look crossing over his face. Doctor Andrews was the head of Project Steel Cobras. 

Andrews watched in, bowing his head and muttering a thank you to Miss White as she left the room simultaneously. Andrews was bald, and looked to be Indian. He always avoided telling if he was native to India or not. Barton didn’t exactly trust the man, but Andrews kept tight lipped about the project. Or so Barton’s man who had been following Andrews informed the general.

“I have the recording, as well as the results, of the Steel Cobras’ first field test.” Andrews said. The two men shook hands before taking their seats.”Show me, then.” The general put a hand through his white, thinning hair. The fact that he still had hair frankly amazed McBride’s wife.

The doctor nodded, holding up a file filled with papers. He tossed it across the desk, and it landed with a quiet thud in front of the general. Barton put a pair of reading glasses on and opened the folder. He began to read.

[b]///Project: STEEL COBRAS///

MISSION DESIGNATION: GEARM174-62

STAGE OF DEVELOPMENT – PHASE III; FIRST FIELD TEST [/b]
The night sky shown brightly with the light of thousands of stars; the moon was beginning to come into view over the top of a mountain range. The deep rumbling of a small convoy of three armored vehicles echoed over the vast desert that surrounded the lone road the vehicles travelled on. A grouping of lights could be seen up ahead in the desert sands. Inside the lead vehicle, the eight commandos belonging to Dagger squad were filled with anticipation, as their first combat mission was about to begin.

“…And that’s when I smashed a beer bottle into his face!” The large African-Australian said in his booming voice, before bursting out into hardy laughter. The other five men in the back of the AATV-24 (Australian equivalent to a BTR-40) joined in, and the noise of the engine was drowned out by their laughter.”When are you ever going to stop getting into trouble, Hercules?” A wiry-built Caucasian next to Hercules asked with a grin on his voice.”The next time you hit up a gym, Odysseus, I’ll think about it.” Hercules responded.”You could just say never and give the guy a break.” A golden haired, blue eyed, well-built commando jested.”Don’t you have some make-up to put on, Pretty boy?” Hercules said.”It’s Perseus to you, bud. Only the ladies can call me that.”

A dark haired, fair skinned soldier who had thus far been rather quiet scoffed.”These codenames are ridiculous. Why can’t we just use our real names?” The man next to him nudged him with his elbow.”Come on. You’re the only one with a normal name here, Jason. What kind of name is Cadmus? I’ve never even heard of the guy.” Cadmus fixed his helmet over his graying black hair, snapping it back on. Meanwhile Orpheus, the youngest of the commandos, was busy fiddling with his StG 58 (IRL Australian weapon based on FN FAL), checking over its firing mechanism multiple times.”What’s wrong, Orpheus? Scared?” Hercules mocked the younger soldier.”No. I’m making sure my weapon works. I’d tell you to, but your accuracy score was so low it’d be a waste of time.” Orpheus snapped back, grinning.”You scored double the second best shot in Australia. Everyone’s score is low compared to yours.” Cadmus reminded.

“Heads up, boys. We’re getting close. You know the plan, but I’ll go over it again, because I know you’ll all want to start shooting the minute we get out there: These rebels think we’re here to escort the diplomat who’s suppose to be bringing them an amnesty. Heh, fat chance. We’re going to start shooting once we get into the middle of their compound. Let Commander Achilles give the order before you fire, alright?” A woman’s voice from the front of the vehicle interrupted the commandos and their antics.”You got it, Sub-commander.” “Sure thing, Atalanta.” “Anybody see my magazine? I dropped it..”

“Get on that turret, Atalanta.” The gruff voice of the commander ordered. Achilles scratched the large scar that went across his throat as he drove the WATV-24 into the enemy camp. Atalanta did as she was told, and stood up in the turret, taking hold of the .50 cal. The convoy came to a stop, right in the middle of the camp. They positioned the vehicles so that it looked as if they would be leaving the armored transports and entering the command tent immediately behind them.”This is Commander Achilles. Begin departure. Vehicles are to provide covering fire.” Immediately, the three .50 caliber guns from the transports started to light up onlookers and guards alike. A siren started to go off as the troops filed out of their transports and split into their respective fireteams.

 Hercules was the first out of the front vehicle, heaving a AMG-30 (Similar to the M60, but made locally) onto his hip and firing bursts into any rebels who came out of hiding. Right behind him was Cadmus, holding a ballistic shield and a ASM-2 (Australian made SMG, similar to the IRL MP series). The rest of the squad quickly formed up behind them, except for Atalanta, who was going to stay on the gun turret for the duration of the mission. The team began it’s sweep..

[b] A few miles to the south of Canberra, Australia [/b]

The Governor-General’s mansion was usually a quiet place. This was where the Chapman family lived, and it was a peaceful existence most days. But today was not most days. Mark sat in his office, along with thirty or so politically influential members of the Australian government. Oh, and the news crews occupied their own portion of the room too. Mark was seated at his desk, his eyes darting over the letter again and again. He couldn’t contain the joy on his face. He’d finally get the chance to visit London, after all these years. He was the only one in the room with the luxury of sitting. Everyone else had to stand.

Beside the Governor-General stood Prime Minister Mary Crakenthrope, who was reading over Chapman’s shoulder. She looked just as pleased as the Governor-General. “Mister Regis, I need a paper and something to write with.” Chapman ordered. A secretary brought over a quill and a piece of paper. Chapman wrote his short reply to the invitation:

[i] I accept your invitation, Prime Minister. I will be leaving for London as soon as physically possible.

 Sincerely,
 Governor-General Mark Chapman[/i]

“Ready my car, Mister Regis. I want a private ship for my family, staff, and I ready five minutes ago. Contact Admiral Crickett, and see if you can get us an escort from the Royal Australian Navy.” The secretary nodded furiously, and ran off to do as he was told. Mark stood up, and put an arm around the Prime Minister as photos were snapped of them.”We’re making history here, Mary. Mark my words, this is our legacy.”