Moving swiftly and silently through the dense foliage, you are no more than a shadow under the moonlight as you take up position behind cover. Bringing the silenced Bullpup up to your shoulder, you peer through the night vision scope and select your targets. You hold your breath, steady your aim, and squeeze the trigger. The Bullpup slices through the enemy’s ranks in a muffled hail of high velocity, hollow-point rounds with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. Two survivors converge on your last position, AK-47s blazing. Neither of them realizes that you're behind them until it's too late. With the blurring speed of a Rattler uncoiling to strike, you fire from the hip and drop the first one with a close-range burst. The other one spins around just in time to catch the butt of your Bullpup smashing into his face, knocking him flat on his back. His last sight on Earth is your outline against the night sky and a glint of light from the barrel of the Bullpup aimed at his forehead. "Game over," you whisper coldly as you pull the trigger.



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