Storymania - Face-Off by Nur Syafiqah A Jaaffar

Face-Off
Nur Syafiqah A Jaaffar

Face Off
By
Nur Syafiqah Bte Ahmad Jaaffar
Class: 2 C 2
Index No: 24
Crescent Girls’ School

Keith Fuller checked his sniper and looked through the eye-scope. No fault there. Surreptitiously, he peered down from the rooftop where he was stationed. Nearly three hours passed but still, there was no sign of activity coming from the house he and his teammates were supposed to keep an eye on.

By right, Keith should have been on a well-deserved holiday. For months, he had envisioned himself somewhere on a beach in Cancun. Just him, the white sand and the pristine blue waters of the sea. Unfortunately, like his best friend and teammate, Steven Moyes, always said, evil waits for no man. The Counter-Terrorist had crushed Keith’s plan of a perfect getaway, and now he was on stakeout.

A soft crackle in his transmitter broke Keith’s train of thoughts. Hastily, he spoke into the clipped-on microphone, “Fuller.”

“Yes, I know it’s you, you moron!” a gruff voice barked on the other end, “What the hell are you doing exposing yourself like that? If you want an early death, just tell me!”

Keith winced and retreated to his original position. He had completely forgotten about his chief, Larry Barker. Keith was still smarting from Barker’s comments when something caught his eye. Quickly, he fiddled with his microphone.

“I see something!” Keith nearly shouted, “Suspect is exiting through front door.”

“Describe him,” Barker responded, almost condescendingly.

“Five foot ten and fully dressed in blue denim,” reported Keith.

There was silence at Barker’s end. Keith waited. His job required discipline and lots of patience. No matter how much he wanted to shoot the terrorist, he could not do so without Barker’s permission.

Barker’s orders suddenly rang through the earpiece lodged in Keith’s left ear. Keith listened intently, ensuring that he fully understood the orders given. Out of habit, he drew up the plan in his mind.

Barker clicked off. It was time.
A hail of bullets tore through the air. The Counter-Terrorist Unit was at war with the terrorists, and it looked like the legal side was winning. The terrorists’ arsenal of smuggled weapons was inferior to the CTU’s lethal array of laser-equipped snipers. The terrorists dropped dead to the ground like bowling pins.

“And that’s the last one down!” Keith crowed as his sniper took down another terrorist. He turned to Steven, “This feels like a game of Halo 2!”

Steven laughed as he remarked, “Yeah, but luckily Barker’s not the Master Chief. Can you imagine what’ll happen to the aliens?”

“They won’t die from the bullets,” Keith completed Steven’s joke, “They’ll die listening to him barking out orders!”

The duo had to suppress their smirk as they made their way to Barker. It was an understatement for all CTU agents not to joke in the midst of a mission, especially when they were face to face with terrorists armed with M16s. In fact, every rookie in the CTU academy had their backs slammed against the wall by Barker and made to repeat that rule over and over again until it had been imprinted permanently in their mind.

“I can’t remember how many times I’ve told you two that a mission is not Disneyland,” Barker grumbled. “Now, follow me into the house.”

Keith said nothing. He blanked out the joke he had shared with Steven earlier. His mind was now focused on the task at hand: to search for the head of the terrorist group.

The trio trudged quietly into the dark, empty house. On the outside, it looked just like another dilapidated warehouse. Maybe the boarded-up windows, the graffiti obscenely covering up the peeling paint could fool passer-bys but not the CTU.

The three CTU agents split up. Keith had opted for the left side of the warehouse. He did not know why he had chosen it. In truth, the left side was far darker than the other parts of the warehouse. He could not even see what was in front of him. Keith pulled his night vision glasses over his eyes. At least now he could see where he was going, although everything was looking quite green.

His earpiece crackled and Barker’s voice floated into his ear, “Anything?”

“Not yet,” muttered Keith, “I’m going upstairs.”

“We’ll be right behind you.”

Keith pressed himself against the wall and almost glided towards the stairs. His eyes flicked upwards, searching for any activity at the top of the stairs. Keeping to the side of the stairs, Keith moved up the flight of stairs, his index finger poised on the trigger.
Just like the first floor, there was no one around, although it was less dark. Some sunlight had managed to squeeze through the plies of wood covering up the windows. Keith eyed a cupboard in the corner suspiciously. Without warning, his foot connected with the door and it crashed into the cupboard. He crouched down to clear away the splinters. Then he heard the thuds of boots.

Keith froze. Swiftly, he clutched his sniper and slid his finger on the trigger. He whirled around.

“Oh, it’s you,” Keith sighed as he lowered his weapon.

Barker managed a weak smile as he staggered towards Keith. Then, he lay crumpled on the floor.

Keith’s blue eyes widened. He rushed towards his chief and placed his fingers on the side of Barker’s neck. Barker was dead.

Still shell-shocked, Keith fumbled for his microphone and breathed into it, “Steven, what’s your status?”

“Still on ground level,” Steven’s voice was barely audible. “All’s clear.”

Keith swallowed hard. Then, he mustered his courage and informed Steven, “Get upstairs. Barker’s dead.”

Steven swore and clicked off. Keith stared at his chief’s body. This can’t be happening, he thought furiously. His mind simply refused to accept that piece of reality.

Steven charged into the room and slumped down next to Keith. His face blanched, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. His sniper clattered to the floor.

Keith shook his head as if to dredge his mind and come to his senses. Someone had to take charge. He thought back to Barker’s words before the mission.

“You’re a moron, Fuller,” said his boss, “You never play by the rules, but you’re a great marksman. If anything happens to me, you’d better take over as leader.”

Keith had dismissed it back then, but not now. He picked up Barker’s microphone. It was now or never. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again. There was no way the other agents would take order from him.

Somewhere upstairs, glasses were smashed. The sound was enough to wake Keith and Steven from their stupor. They came face to face with a door. Keith held back as Steven kicked the door off its hinges. In tandem, they barged into the room, back to back. As expected, the room was empty. Keith peered out of the smashed window and swore loudly. A tall figure was loping on the rooftop of the building five feet across. Keith turned around and tossed Barker’s microphone over to Steven, who caught it easily.

“Call for back-up,” Keith ordered as he strapped on the harness of his grappler, “the air squad, the land squad, everything.”

He paused, looked directly at his best friend, and said softly, “I’m counting on you, man.”

His grappler whooshed out at the push of a button and the small metal anchor at the end latched onto the rooftop ledge. Keith dropped down from the window and within seconds he was climbing the rooftop across. Steven turned around and made his way downstairs.

Keith made his way silently to the roof access door. Hesitantly, he pushed open the door to reveal long flights of stairs snaking in consistent layers of squares. The building was merely three storeys high. Keith ran down the steps to the second floor. There were three rooms. He did not wait to think. Keith barged into the first room. No one was there. The building was probably a motel twenty years ago, Keith guessed.

“We’ve surrounded the building you’re in,” Steven’s voice crackled over the earpiece, “Give me a buzz if you need help.”

Steven had clicked off before Keith had a chance to thank him. Pretty stung by his friend’s actions, Keith briskly walked out of the room. He entered the room next to it. What greeted his sight made him stop dead in his tracks.

The man Keith was after stood in the middle of the room, his back facing Keith. He was about six feet ten and clad in black ensemble. The man’s fair skin contradicted with his attire, making him look much more paler. Keith aimed his sniper at the man. The red laser pointer danced on the man’s head.

“Zdravstvutye syn,” the man spoke in Russian, but Keith knew what it meant: Hello son.

The man turned around, a slow smile pulling at the corners of his face. Keith gasped and almost dropped his weapon. He could have been looking at his own reflection. The jet-black hair, the piercing blue eyes, the high cheekbones and the sharp nose that laid almost perpendicular to his mouth. Keith stared at the stranger in bewilderment. That was too much.

“Surprised?” the man spoke again, “I know who you are Nikolei Keith Fuller Drevin. Allow me to properly introduce myself. I’m your biological father. Nikolei Drevin the First.”

Keith froze. Was it even possible that the terrorist standing right there in front of him was his father? Keith wanted to believe it, yet he could not. All his life, there was only his mother and him. He had never met his father. The only clue he knew about his father was that he was Russian.
“I know you don’t believe me, Keith,” Nikolei continued in a softer tone this time, “I’m sorry I’ve left you for so long. When your mother passed away, I received a letter from her lawyer, informing me to look for you. It was even written that you’re a CTU agent. I had someone hack into the CTU’s database, and when I saw your face, I knew I had found my son.”

Keith choked back to sob. There was a way to corroborate everything Nikolei had said. If he answered the question correctly, all of Keith’s doubts would be cleared.

Keith forced himself to whisper, “What’s my mother’s full name?”

“Elizabeth Jennifer Francesca Aphrodite Fuller,” Nikolei replied, “Am I right?”

Silence hung in the air. Then Keith’s knees buckled as he gave out a cry. His shoulders shook violently as the power of sobs coursed through him. Nikolei knelt in front of him. Keith could no longer stand it. He rushed forward to his father.

The father and son embraced. It was a moment that both wished could last a lifetime. At the back of Keith’s mind, he could sense the irony. He worked for the law while his father was against it. Worse still, he was assigned to kill his own father.

Nikolei pulled back. He took Keith firmly by the shoulder and told him, “Come with me, Keith. I left you to work with the mafia, to expand my oil business empire. Now all my wealth is yours. Give me a chance to get to know my son.”

Keith bit his lip. He looked at his hand to see his trusted sniper neatly tucked between his fingers. He looked up at Nikolei.

“Father, I’m sorry,” Keith made his hardest decision yet.

Outside, the sun began to set. At the very same time, Nikolei Drevin the Second shot himself.

Keith felt something warm on his left chest and realised he was falling. His father was shouting something but he could not hear it. A white blinding light obscured Keith’s sight. When it faded out, Keith saw his mother but she looked younger. Her golden locks streamed behind her and a wan smile caressed her features. The white light intervened again.

Wondering whom else he might see, Keith waited, and then there was none.