Inside the van, one of the four individuals spoke up, cutting through the tense atmosphere. They were all seated, armed with automatic guns in their hands, wearing bulletproof vests, and completely covered in black from head to toe, even concealing their faces. Additional weapons were stashed in the van for emergencies.

 

"Listen up, this will be the last briefing," the speaker, who was the leader of this group, declared.

 

"We received intel from our source that our targets is throwing a party today, and as you can see, it's true. So things are already in our favour," the speaker began.

 

"At sharp 6:30, which means 3 minutes from now, we will enter from the front door. Our target is Shake, the local drug lord from the Westside Syndicate, and his main gang members." He proceeded to show pictures from his phone. There were pictures of shake, stick, fat rock, king and show, but there was no picture of max.

 

"We go in, find the targets, and eliminate them," the leader instructed, his voice firm. "It will be chaotic with four gunmen entering a teen party, but our orders are to fire at will. Even if we can't find the targets, the casualty number will cause enough trouble for him that he should not be able to walk around freely for some time."

 

"Regarding law enforcement, there's a checkpoint a few miles from this place, so their response will be fast. We could expect the police to arrive in 3 minutes if we're lucky and there are no random patrols around," the leader added, emphasizing the need for swift action.

 

"Any problems?" he asked.

 

One of the three people sitting in the back of the van raised his hand.

 

"U1, anything to add?" the leader asked, acknowledging the individual by their tag name.

"Who is this guy?" U1 pointed at another man in the same suit.

 

"He's not part of our three-man team; he just came today randomly. This could seriously affect our synchronised tactics; Sir" U1 said.

 

"Yes, he has no ties with us, but He's from the group that gave us the job. He knows the area and targets well, and he is here to confirm the kill. Consider him as luggage." Leader said and then turned to the guy in question.

 

"And you, try to keep up with us," the leader directed his gaze at the individual in question, his tone firm. " Your code name is 3. You will cover our backs. Don't fall behind. If you do, we won't even come back to get you. You only make our job harder." The guy nodded in acknowledgment.

 

"Any more questions?" The leader scanned the faces of his team, but everyone remained silent.

 

"Alright, no more problems. Get ready,"

………..

 

Scraaase

A white van with "Mirono Garding" emblazoned on its side screeched to a halt in the driveway of Shake's house. The back door swung open, and four individuals quickly exited the vehicle.

 

As they disembarked, the last guy stumbled momentarily, but the others were already advancing towards the door and didn't notice. Quickly regaining his footing, he followed suit. Meanwhile, the van driver reversed the vehicle and positioned it with the back doors facing the front door of the house, ready for a swift getaway. The engines remained running, poised for action.

They entered through the door, expecting to encounter a bunch of wasted teens dancing like maniacs, ready for easy pickings. However, what they saw momentarily took them aback. The hallway was deserted, the fast-paced  music still playing, and thick smoke billowing from the living room. They all tensed up, caught off guard by the unexpected situation. With the leader at the front, they cautiously moved forward, bracing themselves for whatever lay ahead.

"1, 2, check the room," the leader ordered as they approached the first door.

 

"It's locked," U1 reported as he attempted to open the door.

 

"Shooting the lock, stand clear," U2 instructed, and the leader, U1,U3, took a few steps back to ensure their safety in case of any ricochets. This was a standard room door, so it was relatively easy to open it by shooting the lock.

 

With a metallic sound, the door lock broke.

 

U2 grabbed the broken lock and nodded at U1, who readied his gun.

 

Suddenly, U2 opened the door, and as soon as it swung open, U1 rushed inside and fired several shots towards the middle of the bed, only to find it empty.

 

"Clear," U1 announced, signaling that the room was empty.

They quickly moved forward, checking two more rooms before reaching the source of the thick smoke. Upon closer inspection, they realized that this was not a standard smoke bomb; the smoke was much denser.

 

"U2, check it," the leader commanded, relying on their military experience to handle unexpected situations.

 

Following the protocol of OODA loop,  "observe, orient, decide, and act," U2 approached the smoke cautiously. He attempted to grab some of the smoke with one hand, then showed the team his hand, which was covered in white powder.

 

Retreating slightly, U2 removed his mask and tasted a bit of the powder. "It's salt, sugar, and baking powder," he reported.

 

The implications of this discovery sank in quickly. Someone had created a homemade smoke bomb. Has information about their mission been leaked? Why is there no one inside of the house?They all questioned, feeling a sense of unease and uncertainty.

 

"We're going in," the leader declared, reassured that the smoke was non-toxic.

 

U2, who was closest to the annoying home theatre system, lowered its volume to reduce other distractions.

 

As they advanced, the smoke began to dissipate, allowing them to see each other's backs clearly.

 

"Check the rooms before—" the leader started to say before being interrupted.

 

Sallamm

Suddenly, a metallic slamming sound echoed from the side. Demonstrating their elite training, three of them immediately opened fire towards the source of the noise.

 

The barrage of gunfire once again thickened the smoke, obscuring their limited vision. They anticipated hearing some human response, but there was only silence.

 

"Stop," the leader commanded, and a few seconds later, they all ceased firing.

 

As the echoes of gunfire faded, they expected silence, but instead, they heard the sound of cars outside, their alarms ringing due to the disturbance of the bullets.

 

"What the hell is going on?" They all shared the same thought, their uncertainty growing with each passing moment.

 

“Reload” the leader ordered. We have less than 3 minutes now, leader calculated.

 

Raaaaam

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire erupted, catching them off guard.

 

The leader's cry of "Ambush!" pierced the air, sending shockwaves through the team. As his comrades swiftly dropped to the ground, returning fire with practiced precision, U3’s actions were late. He lacked the experience of his fellow operatives, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his veins. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the fear coursing through his mind. In the chaos of the moment, he silently thanked whatever higher power might be listening for, sparing him from a bullet in his gut. 

 

"Cowok cowaak corookook."

 

The sound of police sirens pierced the air.

 

"Fall back! Fall back!" the leader shouted, and they all crawled out of the smoke, retreating to a safe distance before sprinting towards the van. U3 was the first to reach the van, and as soon as they were all inside, they yelled at the driver to go, go, go. With every ounce of speed, the driver accelerated, bringing an end to their three-minute adventure at Shake's house.

 

….

 

"What the fuck was that?" U1 exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration and disbelief. "From the moment we stepped into that house, we were constantly caught off guard." As veterans in the game, they possessed a keen sense of intuition, and they knew immediately that something was amiss the moment they set foot inside that house.

 

"Someone on your side leaked the info," he accused, glaring at U3. "They were ready for us, even the police were called before everything."

 

"What police?" the guy in the driver's seat asked, confused.

 

"You didn't hear the police siren?" Leader questioned.

 

"No, what police siren?" the driver replied. "Cars suddenly started ringing, then you guys came out and said 'go, go'."

 

The leader and the others were dumbfounded. "What the fuck..."

 

Before U3 could speak, his phone began to ring incessantly.

 

"I'm fucking done,Aren’t I" he muttered, recognizing the caller ID as his boss.

 

 "Hello, boss."

 

But before he could continue, the caller interrupted him. "How many people did you guys kill?"

 

Here it comes, U3 thought nervously.

 

“Here is the thing boss, something's happened and”

 

"Shut up, how many died?" the boss demanded.

 

"No one died," U3 admitted in a low voice.

 

"Good, good," the boss replied. 

 

"No need to explain. It's a good thing you didn't kill anyone. If you did, you five wouldn't see tomorrow."

 

And with that, he abruptly ended the call.

 

"Did I just get praised for failing my job?" U3 exclaimed in disbelief. "What the fuck is wrong with today?"