Weight: 135

Apparent Age: 65

Archetype: War Correspondent

Preferred Weapon: DAOD Assault Nemesis

Runner Song:

Bio: This is a man I have a great deal of respect for professionally as he is a reporter, though thats where the respect ends and I cant condone his actions or the way he goes about gathering his intelligence. This man works as a war correspondent and that means he is placed in delicate situations to bring the people of this great nation the news from the front lines. We as journalists are sworn to report the truth and as well never take a side in any situation and remain neutral. Well for Stringer he has sold those ethics for a handful of credits and he reports exactly what the mercenary commanders want him to report, he has taken up arms against the enemy of whatever camp he is working for at the time and this man will use his credentials to infiltrate the opposing sides camps and steal vital documents and assassinate prime leaders. The Stringer might see himself as fighting the good fight, but he is actually damaging the integrity of the entire profession, with the likes of Hound, Snoopy, Cyclops, Owl and Anchor also having sold there ethics for some credits the damage they caused the noble profession might never recover from.

        What makes Stringer worse is that he has taken this to the extreme in actually taking the life of the person he is supposed to interview and then hiding from prosecution by claiming it was an act of war and he is a soldier of fortune. He like many of his ilk might claim to be freelance, but he is a card carrying member of the Sons of Liberty (Freedom Patriots) and has been working deep within the boarders of the Sioux Nation stealing tactical information and assassinating shamans, and other members of their government. He changes his documentation often so keeping track of this man’s whereabouts is not easy.

        The Stringer has a long list of bodies behind him and he see’s himself as fighting the good fight and doing Gods work, this is not how a reporter should ever act or behave, we should go to the grave holding true to our ethics. Though for Stringer thats not the case, well when it comes to his combat abilities do not underestimate this man, he has been trained by the best and most elite mercenary camps out there. He is very skilled at blending in and seeming non-threatening this is not the case when it comes to Stringer he is very lethal and has no morale compass and zero ethics so he will do whatever is needed to help the cause of the Patriots and help spread the lies they tell.

                                                                                                                                                                                       Page Written By: Shadow Writer

Weight: 175

Apparent Age: 65

Archetype: Street Samurai

Preferred Weapon: DAOD Assault Nemesis

Runner Song:

Bio: I hate to refer to this man as a street samurai and not a mercenary, but under the true definition of a street samurai the Patriot has traded enough of his soul for chrome that he can be considered a street killer. Though this man is a professional and doesn’t show any other characteristics that hinder a normal street samurai, he is considered a mercenary by Colonial and that should carry enough wait don’t insult the Patriot by calling him a Sam. This man emerged on the seen many years earlier and has even served in the UCAS Senate after his multiple tours of duty with the US Marine Corps, he was stationed over sea’s when the natives unleashed there fury and during the nights of blood. The Patriot was clueless as to what was going on at home, for he was waist deep in mud and fighting hard against the Chinese and Koreans in the second Korean war. When hell broke loose state side and the President was assassinated this man like many of his brothers in arms where unaware that there wives, homes and children where being pillaged, their commanders abandoning them, and there country turning against them.

       These men where left to fend for themselves deep in enemy and hostile territory, they had nothing to go back to, there base camps all evacuated, they where left out there on the front lines to die or be captured, tortured and executed. When Patriot got wind of there abandonment he knew he had to do something to save the lives of the many young men under his command. He was a Captain at the time and his commission was not high enough to warrant his evacuation, this he cared little about. He was upset because the Corps failed him and his men, they follow the motto of leave “Leave No Man Behind” and they left an entire company of men behind.

        The Patriot knew that he would have to risk life and limb to get his men home and restore their broken morale, he would have to storm a fully operational North Korean military compound to steal they aircraft so they could at least escape hell. Though this meant doing the imposable and storming the castle, with limited supplies and being highly outnumbered and out gunned. The Patriot felt that even if he was killed in the attempt, at least he died trying to do the right thing. He made a pact that if he made it out of hell, he would make those responsible for his abandonment pay a hefty blood price. The Patriot gathered his officers and went over his plan, he told them that this was the only option for escape and to return home. They had to fight with every ounce of there being and never relent. He spent the time carefully outlining his plans and telling the platoon leaders where he wanted them and what he needed them to do. He ended his oratory with the bold marine cry of “Semper Fi!” and he took his position.

       When the assaulted the compound they did so from three separate directions and the men fought with all their gusto, the Patriot and his men charged the gates, dodging machine gun fire and explosions. The air was thick with gun smoke, grenades exploding bodies where falling as the heavens began to cry the rains came down with such force as if the earth itself was washing away the blood of her children. The fighting lasted many hours as the two forces clashed, screams of pain and death could be heard all around as the Patriot and his men made there way slowly to the hangers knowing this was there only shot out. Other squads and platoons sacrificed themselves for their brave leader by going after the anti aircraft guns and knowing that even if they were successful those guns would make it all in vain.

        The Patriot and his platoon had made it to the hanger bays, and once inside the fighting continued both outside and within the bays. The men gave everything they had and eventually they overtook the hanger bays, the had taken three armoured transport helicopters. Though now the real issue began, they had to load the birds and warm them up without getting overtaken the enemy would hear the copters warming up and would come in masses to prevent them from stealing them. Patriot had no idea that so many of his men sacrificed themselves to take out the anti aircraft weapons and he could still hear fighting going on, he radioed to his men to fall back to the hangers for the evacuation.

\       That’s when he was told by his men, no you save whoever you can, we have your back. A Marine never surrenders, and Semper Fi Sir! This actually made the Patriot hesitate for a split second as he was taken aback by their true patriotism, their bravery and their sacrifice. He gave the orders and the men began boarding the copters and the Patriot climbed into the cockpit, placing the headphones on they began there evacuation. The three copters began their lift off and exiting the hanger bay, one by one they cleared the doors the gunners firing at the forces still on the ground the Patriot dodging incoming fire. He glanced over to his left only to witness one of the birds get hit by a rocket propelled grenade and explode killing all on board. As he brought the copter higher he was able to oversee the battlefield and as if for a single moment his senses where dulled and he could see the fighting of the men, and all the bodies littering the battlefield like fallen leaves. He was snapped back to attention as the second copter exploded and as he breached the enemies line and made his way to Germany.

         Once in Germany he was meet with resistance until his radio hail was picked up and they were identified as ally and not an enemy. The Patriot entered the compound with a full company of men he once had around three hundred men and he was down to a simple ten men including himself. He had wounded on board that never made it to see Germany, and even the Patriot was wounded though his wounds were superficial they still left him with scars that he carries with him today. Though once they where landed in Germany there situation wasn’t over, they where classified as criminals of war by there own government and they all were being charged with the most heinous of crimes they never commented. This meant that if captured they would all suffer the firing squad or gallows and would never see the inside of a courtroom. These men had climbed out of hell only to be seeing UN and German military police heading for them, and through the radio they are being told to power down the craft, lay down there weapons and surrender to the police for they are charged with treason, murder of civilians, and more. The Patriot knew this to be a ruse, and wouldn’t allow his men or himself to fall victim to an unlawful arrest he pulled the throttle back and lifted the copter back into the air. These birds had an extended fuel supply and new fuel cell technology in it, allowing for much longer trips before refuelling as he took to the sky a bullet from below ripped through the undercarriage of the copter, tore though the Patriots left foot, travelled up his lower leg exploding out his knee and tearing into his chest. He cried out in pain and nearly lost control of the aircraft. He flew away as his blood slowly rained down below from the open wound in his foot.

        He knew he needed medical attention soon, but he had nowhere to safely land so he transferred the controls over to his co-pilot and stumbled into the back towards the medic. He just laid down and awaited his fate, the medic began working on him and eventually the Patriot passed out and when he awoke he was safely within the confines of the Sons of Liberty. This is how he became one of us and he has since learned of the fate of his family and everything he held dear. He learned that when the native attacks occurred they abandoned him and his company in enemy soil to use them as the fall guys for the Presidents ill fated nuclear strike on his own citizens. But when the strike never happened, do to the actions of War Zone and word spread of their successful assault on the North Korean compound there leaders saw another chance to save there skin and vilify these men. The sent word out that they were terrorists, who successfully used a nuclear warhead to kill thousands of American citizens. They had this company blamed for the Ghost Dance and nights of blood over seas, they turned there back on these soldiers and destroyed there reputations worldwide for political gain.

          Lets just say when the Patriot learned of this information, we needed to heavily sedate him to keep him from ripping his stitches and damaging his newly implanted cyber and bio implants. This anger has stayed with the Patriot ever since those days and he will never forgive his government for all the men he lost, all the families forever torn apart because of the lie, and all the innocent people that were wrongfully convicted of a crime and executed to appease the public’s blood thirst. The Patriot is a man on a mission and he will never relent, we have promoted him to Major through the years, he refuses to accept any higher promotion till his blood price is paid. He is trying to restore the honour of all those men he lost in Korea, there families and bring down the corruption machine one bloated bureaucrat at a time. The only memory of his his children and grandchildren he has comes from the photo he carries with him, and his beloved wife is buried in a nameless grave in the Federal Prison yard after she was hanged for treason a crime she never committed, her only offence was being married to Major Richard Kirby for thirty years. He has never forgiven his government and he shouldn’t for they did him wrong and the natives are the final nail in the coffin for this man. The Patriot has been blessed by the fountain of youth like many of Colonials elite warriors, and for this man the battles of old might be over, but the war has never ended.

          Keeping him out of Seattle was just not going to happen, he is a man possessed and he will not be reasoned with in anyway shape or form, he he has been fighting since 2017 and he holds all the hate, anger, and dedication of a thousand men. He is going to be a serious problem for the military forces there in Seattle, he was needed else where but when then the Patriot makes up his mind nobody and I mean nobody can change it. He see’s any enemy of the Sons of Liberty as his sworn enemy and this man will not take prisoners, He still has that small band of troops that he escaped hell with they call themselves the Minutemen. So if you see the Patriot on the streets, give this man the utmost respect. He has earned every ounce of respect you can muster and he has brought himself and his men to the war in Seattle. The streets will never be the same again, with the Minutemen marching once again. He is focused, he is blessed with some odd paranormal style abilities and his chrome and bioware are of unknown origin and grade, his gear is all DAOD and he is still collecting his blood tribute so enemies of Seattle you have been warned.

                                                                                 Page written by: Snoopy

Weight: 155

Apparent Age: 65

Archetype: Mercenary

Preferred Weapon: Spass 22

Runner Song:

 

 Bio: Well when it comes to this old grizzled mercenary, one would think this old timer is more bark then bite nowadays well you couldn’t be more wrong if you tried. War Zone is as strong today as he was back in his prime, just he has decades worth of experience and wisdom to add to his resume. This man’s handle might not be the most brilliant or well thought out, and he himself doesn’t quite know how he got unlucky to be referred to as just War Zone but it stuck and he has made the best of it. This man has been with the Patriots from day one and has served loyally, he like many of the Sons of Liberty have a story to tell and there tale is long and goes back to the days of before the Treaty of Denver, before the Ghost Dance and before the nights of blood. For the story of War Zone I will need to take you back along way in time, so sit back and get comfortable for this is one bumpy road.

      When Stuart was a much younger man he served with the United States Marines as part of an honour guard that protected our countries leaders and dignitaries. He was stationed in Washington D.C and was serving as the personal guard to the President, he was in protection of something called the football (This item was the nuclear launch codes and system, if needed the President could access the system with Stuarts aid and God Help us all) well this meant that he was always within eye and ear shot of the President and was purview to many classified discussions. This meant he was under the highest of security clearnesses and as well scrutiny at times, but the biggest flaw that turned out to be a blessing in disguise was that because he was quite, reserved and stoic he was often forgot about and these leaders would discuss things in front of Stuart and forget he was even standing a mere arms length away. The other blessing was he had a photographic memory and spoke multiple languages fluently so he never would be left in the dark.

      His post was a highly stressful station with a high turn over rate, so the President was used to new football carriers often. Though for Stuart he was a rock and nothing fazed him, he had no family, no debt and basically his life was the Marines and his duty. So this man was kept in place and no one would ever think he would eventually turn coat against them, though this choice didn’t come easy to a man who lived his life to his oath, to God and his country. As for his choice, we in the Patriots are eternally grateful and can never repay this man for what he sacrificed, on that faithful day back in 2017.

      For Stuart his day started out like any others and it seemed like this was going to be the way his days went till he was relieved of duty or retired. Though this day something had been eating at him, he had overheard many conferences between dignitaries before but this one was different and this one was even more hush, hush then any others before. The President had ushered many of his staff, media and advisers out of the room leaving only himself, the vice president, the speaker of the house, majority and minority leaders of the senate and the joint chiefs as well as a young man standing guard in the corner that everyone overlooked. Stuart was shocked to see multiple chiefs of various native tribes enter the room and the Vice President got up locked the door, and flipped a switch. The Minority leader shut the shades and drapes and for a moment Stuart got a very unsettling feeling, the men then sat down enjoying drinks and cigars. There was an uneasy calm in the air as the discussion shifted from normal civilities to a more disturbing manner, and this is when Stuart slipped his hand into his pants pocket and activated the record function on his phone as a precaution. He stood in bewilderment as the Native Chiefs spoke of the return of the White Buffalo and there plans to start the Great Ghost Dance, unless they were given their land back. The Chiefs spoke of the many that would die and even warned further of the planed nights of blood. Our men in power just sat there absorbing it all and said words that sent chills through Stuarts body “When will this happen, and is there anyway to protect important people from the affects.” The Chiefs without missing a beat produced a small case and said any white man wearing one of these will be spared. The President and the other men disused things for a good while, before our President said “Well if thats the case, please commence your dance. You will be doing us a favour anyway.” “We will as well assist you in your actions and protect your people, from any armed citizen or soldier, we only ask you give us those charms to protect ourselves and others that are vital to our plan, as yours.” Stuart thought to himself are they for real, are they actually authorizing a massive strike against there own citizens for little more than a few trinkets. Giving up land, men have fought and died for, a country that many sacrificed everything for, is this how they are going to seize control? He was in shock and disbelief.

     After the Chiefs left the room the men in power spoke more about there plan and how once the Natives struck, they would use this as an excuse to enact martial law nation wide and when the so called patriots took to action, they would access the football and bring down even more of America’s people using the guise of terrorists to scare the reaming citizens into submission. They would then be able to seize control of the entire nation on state at a time, but first they must protect those of importance. Stuart was still reeling from the previous day and knew that any day the natives where going to strike and he was going to be used to bring down the remainder of the country he loved so dearly. He knew there plan involved him, when he was given one of these trinkets a small pin that had a strange essence to it. He was told to adorn it to his uniform, and ask no questions, little did they know that he overheard, recorded and transcribed the entire meeting. Though he was powerless to tell anyone, he would be branded a conspiracy theorist, drummed out of the military and imprisoned or worse. He had to stand there and wait for the enviable to occur, he being a guard was allowed to carry a weapon so he used this to sneak additional pistols under his uniform knowing that the security would just wave him through anyway. He figured if he had to, he would turn the weapon on himself or the true traitors he was guarding.

      Days went by and Stuart kept his guard up and recorded everything he could, he set up contingency plans if all went to hell and he memorised the layout of the White House for the quickest and easiest escape plan. He also knew the offices he had to strike and swipe data from if it came down to it. He needed concrete proof if he was to survive. With each passing day, the pit in Stuarts stomach grew. He knew things would happen soon since the President had ordered the White House down to a skeleton crew, he had his press secretary on stand by and she was in the know since the pin on her lapel was one of those like he wore on his uniform. Stuart eventually realised that everyone at the White House that remained was wearing that damned pin, and as the days went by nothing Stuart awoke every morning in fear and would try to hold back his resentment as he would enter the White House. Then it happened the building was rocked with an explosive energy and the pin on his uniform began to glow with such intensity that it was near blinding. But at least he was alive, the switchboard began to erupt with calls and the Presidents private phone that sat on his desk in the oval office began to ring. He answered and just said the most chilling words ever “Begin Stage two” and then hung up, he then ordered Stuart to follow him as he made his way to the war room, the press secretary was already fast at work spin doctoring and broad casting a pre-recorded statement by the President doctored to seem like it was live.

     Stuart meanwhile was being brought to the war room and would be soon forced to make a choose that would impact his life and the future for all of us here in America. He knew what he would be ordered to do, and any good soldier would just comply, but this was not any normal soldier he had already come to grips with what he needed to do and had made piece with his maker. Stuart followed the President into the War Room and seated around the tables where the Joint Chiefs, the Vice President, Speaker of the House and Minority Leader. The Presidents secret service all lay dead from the natives magic, Stuart was not the only armed man in the room as the joint chiefs all wearing there dress uniforms were packing their side arms. The President spoke “Gentlemen it has been done and reports are rolling in now of the wounded and dead, inform your Generals for the military to fully stand down and stage two has begun as well.” With that the joint chiefs started making their calls and the other leaders in the room spoke over the plans for the nuclear strike and how everything was going so smoothly. The President stated that for everyone’s safety they were to remain in the War Room for forty-eight hours and then they would engage the football, everyone just smiled as they ignited lighters lighting each others cigars like they were celebrating. This made Stuart sick to his stomach but he couldn’t do anything yet, he knew he needed to wait till the last possible moment to strike. Since the Football was handcuffed to his wrist and he needed two hands free to be able to bring down this many people he was just bidding his time.

    The men stuffed themselves on food that was being brought in and watched the incoming news about the tragedy on the televisions, Stuart knew he needed to first disable the Football and he waited till the men all rested there eyes. He couldn’t leave since the door was locked and the President had the key in his inside jacket pocket. Under the cover of the darkness in the room he undid the handcuffs and opened the Football, he stared at the device for a good long while then figured out how to disable the device. Once he managed to disable the Football he snapped the keys, closed the case and breathed a sigh of relief, he also figured now was now better time then ever. He stood up, readied his weapon, one of the joint chiefs stirred in his chair. The television was playing softly in the background, and he knew this room was sound proof so the shots would not be heard outside, he wasn’t sure what was going to fully happen. But he needed to do something and it needed to be done fast, he grabbed a bottle of water of the desk and chugged the remainder and crept off around the corner to the sleeping President, he said a silent prayer placed the empty water bottle over the barrel and pointed it directly over his temple. The pistol being one of the ones he slipped past security was a low calibre .22 and would make very little noise if any with the home made silencer in place. He stood over the man he once respected and now loathed, he place his finger on the trigger and slowly pulled it back till a slight pop was heard and the President moaned slightly before nothing a trickle of blood rolled down from his temple and for the first time since John F Kennedy somebody had successfully assassinated the President of the United States. He searched the man’s suit for the key to the War Room, securing the key he crept back around to the main room. The men still slept unbeknownst to the murder of the President and their soon executions at the hands of a man they overlooked and easily disregarded as a threat to their plans. Stuart knew that he needed to execute as many of the remaining men as he could since they were all involved and were still very much a threat to the safety of Americans all over. He grabbed another empty bottle and slipped over to the Vice President and without hesitation he pulled the trigger putting a bullet between the man’s eyes he was dead instantly and never awoke. The shot was a bit louder then the others but the men remained still, he was shocked they didn’t awake but the empty brandy and whiskey bottle explained everything. They were all celebrating long through the evening and over indulged and know where resting off the ill affects of the alcohol this would make his life much easier. But he still needed to make sure he silenced the shots or someone would awake. He repeated the process of using bottles and executing the men in the room with a single shot to the back of their heads. When it came to the Joint Chiefs he was torn since these men where sworn officers of the military who dedicated there lives to defending the Constitution, but there morales and convictions had been compromised and the power of Washington D.C had taken control over these men. He Reloaded his weapon and went about his duty to protect the American people from any threat foreign or domestic and executed men he once looked up to as leaders and gentlemen. Once the last man in the room was dead, he knew he couldn’t just march out in his dress blues and walk away. He saw the Minority leader was about his size so he removed his uniform and switched his dress blues for the navy suit and tie of the former politician. He Removed his medals and the pin he was given from the natives as proof and proceeded to enter a flash drive he smuggled in, into the computer drive in the War Room entering the Presidents password, yes they always overlooked Stuart. He transferred file after file into the flash drive, till he heard a knock at the door he knew it would be someone coming to check on the men and he had to move quickly. He answered abruptly with “Be right there” and tapped his foot impatiently as the knock on the door was louder and even more commanding Every thing okay Mr. President, the camera’s picked up something odd. Stuart thought Oh crap the damned cameras, just then the last file transferred and quickly removed the flash drive and did a file deletion. He then moved with haste towards the door, bellowing Everything is fine, but Stuart knew this was the remaining security, and he wasn’t going away. Stuart holstered the .22 and drew the service weapon of one of the Joint Chiefs a larger hand gun a .44 calibre weapon. He stood to the side and unlocked the door

    Once the door swung open, two security officers charged in with weapons drawn, Stuart fired quickly bringing the first one down with do haste, the second spun and opened fire with his assault riffle, Stuart hit the deck while pulling the trigger letting off four shots three of the four impacting into the officers chest and head killing him instantly. Stuart knew that he was going to be in for a fight the entire time, so he holstered the hand gun, grabbed the M-16 and the spare magazines and started his long journey out of the White House. He was loaded to bare with weapons and the suit didn’t offer any real support for carrying the fire power. He knew he needed to hit the weapons locker first and get his hands on a battle vest, a duffel and any other weapons and ammunition he could. Stuart made his way around the halls of the White House he would engage security at almost every turn, but these men where nothing in comparison to a life time soldier and he made short work of them. Once to the weapons locker, he used the Presidents key to open the doors and with do haste, he donned the battle vest, holstering the weapons grabbed the security chiefs duffel and started loading riffles, shotguns and ammo into the bag. He would also grab a few bottles of water and some ration bars from the security office as well before deleting the camera files and shooting the computer, Stuart would then make his exit from the White House.

      Once outside he could here the sounds of gunfire off in the distance, the sirens and he could see the flashes of the red and blues heading his direction. This was not going to end well for Stuart if he stuck around, he had to make a quick escape or he would be arrested for the assassination of the president and others inside. He would be branded a killer and madman and everything he was trying to stop would be in vain. He raced over towards a one of the presidents motor pool vehicles and just his luck the chauffeur was deceased in the driver seat and the keys where in the ignition. he pushed the man over, grabbed his hat placing it on his head, he started the car rolled up the windows and drove down the driveway past the incoming police and FBI vehicles. Stuart made his escape, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before his face was blasted all over the media and he would be hunted till the ends of the earth. He needed to find someone anyone who could help him and fast, he was the Presidents assassin and this meant a worldwide manhunt for him. Well as Stuart was leaving DC he could see behind him the lights of the city fade and the highway before him, he knew that posing as the Presidents Chauffeur would not last long, and once the media announced the murder and the stolen vehicle it wouldn’t be long before he was captured since the car held the seal of the President of the United States on the doors and government tags. Not to mention a tracker probably, he just swerved the car of the main road and began driving it off road hoping that he could cover a little more distance before ditching the vehicle and stealing another.

       This however wasn’t fully thought out and as he drove, explosions rocketed next to the vehicle and bullets ricocheted off the armour till one bust threw the window and lodged deep into his upper chest. He howled in pain and swerved the vehicle, breaking an axle in the process and the car rolled onto it’s side. Stuart was pinned between the seat and steering wheel his left leg crushed in the twisted metal of the door and part of the doors inner armour piercing his side. His pistol barely in reach, but struggle as he may he couldn’t grab hold. He heard the voices of many men outside, this is it he thought. I am to be arrested, dragged before the public as a fanatic and lunatic and then publicly executed. As my hanging is posted all over the Internet. He still struggled for the weapon till he heard the shattering off glass then a load bang, when he awoke he was strapped to a medical bed, men in uniform stood around him. Though there uniforms were not like any military he had ever seen, he was handcuffed to the bed and confused he kept asking for his JAG representative. He kept being told, he wouldn’t need a lawyer since if he was found guilty he would be simply shot in the head and buried in the field, he kept professing his innocence. Till one of the soldiers got feed up, barked at him to be silent I am getting the boss.

        Stuart now was even more confused, as he saw a very regal gentlemen enter the room. He was wearing the same uniform as the other men, just had subdued stars on his shoulders and collar. The man introduced him simply as Colonial and he had a few questions for the prisoner, if you lie to me I will shot you dead, if I don’t like your answers I will shoot you dead, and if all goes well I will explain further. But understand, you are currently on death row and the only thing standing between you and a shallow grave is your answers. Stuart again asked for a lawyer, and Colonial just put his hand on his side arm. This shut Stuart up quickly, No my good man who are you, and name rank serial number will end with a bullet (and Colonial stared at him with a stern unsettling gaze) ” I am Sargent Stuart Weston of the United States Marine Corps Honour Guard.” very good Colonial answered you listen well. Next What were you doing in that back field? “Well Sir, I am…um..um.” Spit it out or you are a corpse, Colonel barked. “Um Sir, I was eluding the police.” Why Colonel asked and remember the penalty for lying as he taps his hand cannon. “Well Sir, if I tell you. You might just kill me anyhow or think I am a madman.” Colonel raised an eyebrow continue my good man. “Well Sir, for a matter of national security and the sanctity of her people murdered the President of the United States, Vice President, Speaker of the House, Minority Leader of the Senate and the Joint Chiefs as well as many of the security and personnel inside the White House as I was escaping.” Stuart cringed after waiting for the quick execution. Colonial just said, Why did you do this my good man, I will give you a chance to answer for such a killing. Though a scowl came across his brow, Stuart knew that he was on very thin ice. “Well Sir, if it survived the crash I have a flash drive, journal and my phone that can explain everything in full detail a whole lot better then I can.” “You might just think I am mad, if I try to explain it and you probably think I am mad anyway.” Colonial barked orders to his men to retrieve the items and begin transcribing the data. Colonial stood there for a good hour or two staring at the Stuart and the tension in the air was thick and for the first time in Stuarts life he feared for his life and wished he had just stayed put.

         Eventually Colonials men returned to the room and pulled him aside and explained in full detail everything Stuart had discovered. Stuart could over here Colonial mutter well that explains allot, and why the government dogs are out trying to kill people in power and not helping the citizens. Let Mr Rodgers know what you discovered, this will answer the questions he has. The soldier snapped to attention Yes Sir and ran off, Colonial returned to the room. Well Sargent Weston, you keep impeccable records and that just saved your skin. I now understand why the government dogs have been acting out of sorts, it seems this stage two you over heard is a direct assassination order for anyone that is in a place of power that might know the truth or have access to alert the people of the truth. You my good man, saved your own life by doing the unthinkable, and by what I was just informed you spared many lives as well. They will never try the nuclear threat after the stunt you pulled, well you seem trustworthy but we will see in the coming days as you heal up. Though don’t worry you are amongst like minded men, at this point Colonial unlocks the handcuffs reaches under his jacket and places a data pad on the desk next to Stuart Get caught up my good man, everything you need is on the pad. I will check back in on you in a few days,to let the information process.

         Over the next few days Stuart devoured the information Colonial left for him, explaining the events that where transpiring, the ultimate plans of the enemy, and the eventual removal of the liberties of the people. It also explained the intentions of the freshman mercenary unit and what the stood for and why they were fighting to defend the people from this assault. Stuart kept reading and rereading and stared in disbelieve, but after what he witnessed this was the missing puzzle pieces he needed to ease his tormented conscience. When Colonial returned a few days later, this time in a dress uniform. His awards and medals needing support on his jackets breast, his four gold stars glistened under the tent lights, his shoes shined so the reflection of the overhead lights refracted back up and cast an imposing shadow upon his face. His uniform was not the new military one, it was older one like Stuarts Father or Grandfather would have worn and his nameplate read Kingsbury. Stuart had never heard of a former General by that surname before, but he just figured another handle. Colonial spoke, well my good man have you enjoyed your reading “Well Sir, it’s allot to take in, but it explains allot and fills in the missing pieces Sir.” Agreed Sargent, Colonial responded. Well Sargent it looks like your country has turned you into a murderer and assassin, your good name is being torn to shreds by the media spin doctors. The country grieves for the manic you killed and they despise you. Looks like you are at the end of your rope and if you are willing I would gladly take you under my command and welcome you to the Sons of Liberty. Stuart didn’t have to dwell long as he reached out his hand “I accept Sir.” Colonial shook Stuarts hand and the rest is history.

       This is how the man known as War Zone and really we need to get this man a better handle, joined the Sons of Liberty. He might have committed one of the worst crimes that can befall our nation. But he did it to save all of you, no telling how many more millions would have died if War Zone had just fell in line like a good little soldier. He has since become a true warrior on the battlefield and nothing escapes his gaze, and with his photographic memory with one glance onto the battlefield he can memorize exact troop movements, locations and amounts. He has also proven himself to be a brilliant man with small unit tactics and strategies for larger engagements. He is also a whirlwind of death, doom and destruction once unleashed on a enemy group he makes short work of them. War Zone has been crucial in the Sons of Liberty holding the wastes near Canada just outside Seattle and was a key player in the Battle for Seattle’s Independence. His battalion held the northern boarders and kept the NATO forces from being able to penetrate the city limits and enter the upper districts for there intended quick take over.

        War Zone and his forces have since entered Seattle’s city limits and intend to stick around to maintain order and keep the military form remounting an offensive. He has proved without a shadow of a doubt that, he is loyal and he spoke the truth during those days there are some that still feel he should hang for his crimes. We in the Patriots are in full support of War Zone and we feel that you should be as well, this man saved millions and sacrificed everything to protect the people he swore an oath to protect, War Zone okay really, We really need a new handle for this man he deserves better. Okay Patriots get your thinking caps on and lets do Colonel Weston good by giving him a real handle, I don’t even know how he earned that moniker and I have known him since he joined the Patriots and  I know he hates it, hell I cringe just writing it.

                                                                                                                                                                                    Page Written by: Reverdy Davis (Snoopy)

Weight: 165

Apparent Age: 60

Archetype: Mercenary Adept: Circle: Unknown

Preferred Weapon: Baton

Runner Song:

Bio: This man is another of the days long gone, he was once a proud journalist and reporter of the truth. He lived comfortable life in the suburbs just outside DC where he worked at a major network new station as an anchor. He lived a simple life with his family and extended family, he was active in the community, his Church and in his children’s lives and these simple life would garner this man the skills he would eventually need to survive the tragedies to come.

        Back in 2017 everything started out as normal for Herbert, he had helped usher his children off to school and was busy cleaning up the garage after the monthly camping outing for the scout troop he led, his wife yelling for him from the other room about an important phone call from the station, distracted him enough and he knocked over the sporting equipment making a great deal of noise and mess. He just thought, it’s beginning to look like a sporting goods store in here as he hustled off to catch the phone. On the other end was his producer telling him of some strange mystical dancing going on near Denver and he was being sent to cover the story. So Herbert agreed and was told that his plane ticket was waiting for him at the airport and a cameraman would be their waiting as well, he went and packed a bag and kissed his wife letting her now he would be home soon he needed to go and cover a story. Herbert then left his home, entered his car and drove off to the airport as he watched his house vanish behind him little do he know that this was the last time he would ever see any of his family alive again.

       As he got to the airport he was met by his camera man a tall younger man with a fair complexion, the two exchanged civilities and entered the airport. The two men chatted as they went through security and boarded the plane bound for Colorado, this was when everything was going to go horribly wrong and Herbert’s life was going to change forever in a blink off an eye. The flight started out like every other one he had ever been on and being an anchor he was afforded first class seats, thouhtgh his cameraman was seated back in coach. He kicked off his oxfords, loosened his tie and started to relax for his long flight. He just went over the documents his producer sent him and was working on his second whiskey sour when the plane was rocked with turbulence and lurched heavy to the left before settling out. His drink flew out his hands and landed on the lap of the person setted next to him, he also suddenly felt ill and his body ached with pain. He slipped his shoes back on and turned to the passenger seated next to him and he was flabbergasted so find the man he just had a conversation with mere moments prior dead in his seat. He stood up and was brought back to his seat by the crippling pain in his legs and back, he peered around to see everyone around him was as well deceased and all with that same frozen look of horror on there face, their mouths jutted open and jaws locked in place, their eyes wide open with terror and there hearts had pumped there last beat.

      Herbert looked around in complete terror and had no idea what to even do or think, he was seated in a cabin full of deceased people that only minutes prior where full of life. He removed his cell phone hoping for a signal but nothing, he just grimaced through the pain and not since he was wounded in action during his time as a war correspondent did he ever feel this pain but he knew he had to see if there was anybody who could help. And how was the plane still in the air. He stumbled through the cabin and everywhere he looked was death and all in that same state of being, thats when he started hearing chatter from the rear of the plane in a odd language that he couldn’t make out, though the sounds of gunfire he understood loud and clear. Herbert found the Air Marshal and even he was dead from fright, so he just reached under the man’s suit coat and removed the pistol and spare clip.

    He then headed for the curtain and peered through to see two young native men chatting amongst themselves only pausing when they heard the moans of life, then they would point their guns and open fire into the surviving passengers. Herbert thought to himself, dear God this is more then a hijacking its a slaughter and he was brought quickly back to reality as his body was hit with coursing pain as a bullet ripped through his shoulder and burred itself into his collarbone. He dropped to his knee and surveyed the scene noticing that one of the young men had noticed him standing there and opened fire hitting him in the shoulder. Herbert didn’t want to be a victim and he was trained in firearms while serving with the Army so he returned fire with the Air Marshals gun hitting the native hijacker who shot him square in the chest killing him instantly the remaining native and Herbert exchanged fire, bullets tore through the curtain, seats and lodging into the planes windows and passengers till he heard voices from behind him and he spun to see another pair of natives standing in the cabin. Do to his quick movement and sudden lurch of the plane the bullet fired from the remaining hijacker in the rear ripped its way into the native solider standing by the cockpit. His body slumped forward as his blood pooled underneath him. the other native hijacker at the cabin turned and stared in astonish as to what had just accord and this gave Herbert a chance to line up his shot and fire killing the man with a single bullet to the head, he could hear the remaining hijacker running towards the front of the plane. Herbert quickly reloaded and waited for the hijacker to breach the shredded curtain and as he planed a pulled the trigger twice and down went the last hijacker.

      He now shaken by his wounds, the fact that he just killed four men but he was not out of the woods yet, the planes auto pilot feature would turn off soon and he was alone in a flying bomb. He had taken flying lessons when he was younger but this was not a single engine plane, this was an jumbo jet and that meant he was way out of his league. Though he couldn’t just do nothing, he needed to try to save his own skin, he was determined to return home to his wife and children. He made his way to the cockpit stepping over the bodies of the downed hijackers and saw the captain and co-pilot dead he pushed the body out of the seat and took the helm. He radioed his distress and franticly searched for the guide book that is meant for this situation. He quickly thumbed through the book, and then he saw all the gauges and dials he was almost bewildered as the plane suddenly lurched forward. Without thinking he grabbed the pilots hat to help obscure the glare a bit and started to settle the plane out. Herbert buckled up and prepared for a very long and bumpy ride ahead of him, as well as a very rough landing.

     Eventually he got word from a tower and he explained that all the passengers and crew where dead, he was wounded but he managed to retake the aircraft from the hijackers he also added how the hell do you land one of these flying whales. The tower talked him through the process and he was cleared to land in Denver. Herbert brought the plane to a safe, but nowhere near pretty landing and was welcomed by law enforcement, emergency personnel and a medical team. Once the federal agents on scene saw that he was a reporter, they quickly sprung into action and stripped him of anything that could have possibly recorded the scene and ordered him under the Patriot Act to remain silent and report on nothing he saw or did and he was then strapped down and taken to Denver Memorial Hospital to have his wounds cared for.

   While on the way to the hospital he was able to see through the back windows chaos erupting on the streets and every time he asked what’s going on, he was told not to worry it will be over soon enough. That’s when he figured out that this was supposed to be his final ride and the ambulance would arrive at the hospital and he would be dead on arrival. His body still ached but his wounds had been bandaged and cleaned prior to being loaded into the ambulance, he thanked his lucky stars that his daughter had insisted on taking magic lessons and like any good father he took part. These lessons taught him a thing or two about escapology and he was able to free himself enough to grab hold of a scalpel that was near him and when the medic came towards him with a hypodermic needle ready to inject it into his neck, Herbert lurched forward and drove the scalpel deep into the man’s juggler and ripped it out. The man’s blood sprayed everywhere and he stumbled around the back of the ambulance till he fell dead and his blood pooled under him. Herbert finished freeing himself from the stretcher. The driver at this point was unable to stop, but in an attempt to subdue the passenger he was driving erratically. Herbert was slammed into the ranks in the back and the scalpel in his hand sliced deep and caused a great deal of pain as his blood began to flow once again. He managed to crawl out of the debris and spilled supplies grabbing a hypodermic needle he made his way to the front of the ambulance.

     Herbert than ripped the curtain forward splashing his blood all over the widow and driver he just lunged forward grabbing the driver around the neck and driving the needle home into his neck and pushing nothing but air into the man’s artery. Needless to say the driver convulsed quickly and died but not before lurching the wheel hard to the right, that caused the ambulance to violently lurch, it’s tires buckle and blow out as the ambulance flipped over and began to roll down the street. Herbert was pinned behind the drivers seat and wall as his shattered glass rained down on his body. He was serenade by the sounds of tearing metal, breaking glass and the supplies in the cargo area shattering as well as oxygen tanks exploding. When the ambulance came to a stop there was pandemonium as Herbert crawled out of the wreckage to survey the scene like all good reporters would. He noticed multiple wrecked vehicles, downed bodies and soldiers wearing a strange uniform with the moniker NAN (Native American Nations) on the shoulders and back. He was in terrible shape and in need of serious medical attention or he would soon die from his wounds.

  This is how he would wind up in the Sons of Liberty (Freedom Patriots), as he crawled out of the ambulance he noticed soldiers wearing an odd military uniform that he could only think belonged to some fringe Tea Party group of activists, but these men where armed and fighting the soldiers with the NAN markings. He heard one of them call out to him asking him if he was wounded, he responded in the affirmative and they also asked him if he was a true patriot or false American. He thought the question was silly, but he figured not to argue with armed men and he responded true patriot, the men said Ten Four and they broke position firing at the opposing force and rescued Herbert from the wreckage and eventually brought him to a medical facility just outside of Denver. He was quickly cared for and sent to the recovery ward.

      While he was recovering from his injuries he was still asking questions as to what was going on and why was all this happening? He was given simple and direct responses like the natives struck, they used a great magical dance to kill thousands, there demanding there land back, but for this reporter that was not enough. He needed answers as to why the government wanted to silence him and why they tried to kill him in the ambulance, these answers he would later receive from another gentlemen recovering in the bed by his side a man by the name of Albert Armstrong better known now by the handle of Orion. He explained to the best of his ability as to what was going on, and soon enough all will be explained. Once Herbert was healed enough to move and Armstrong long since gone, he was approached by an older grey haired man, wearing military fatigues and the stars of a general on his collar the man moved with poise of a noble and had a very regal stature as he stood before Herbert and introduced himself only as Colonial of the Sons of Liberty and extended his hand, Herbert shook hands with Colonial and thats when he was fully informed as to everything that was going on, and why the government wished to silence any and all witnesses and survivors of the Ghost Dance. As Colonial spoke Herbert’s reporter mind kept imputing the information, Colonial continued on saying ” Our own government has turned it’s back on the people it swore to protect, the natives struck first blood in a attempt to reclaim there land, The have initiated through an old rite called the Great Ghost Dance and used the new awaking to empower this rite. They have taken to the streets and are burning, raping and butchering all non natives all across the country.” Herbert interrupted the commander, “What about DC?” then he apologized for the interruption. Colonial continued on “Well even in DC the attacks are occurring though there it’s mostly being done by our own people. Though I am sorry to have to tell you this Herbert Rodgers, according to my associate Snoopy your friends and family have been either killed or taken prisoner as they are considered a threat because you lived.” Herbert stood in shock, Colonial kept speaking not even missing a beat. “The reason they are going after survivors and branding us domestic terrorists, is because we know the truth, we know what really happened and we are part of history. Once we are dead or disgraced enough they can rewrite history and make this all go away forever, we in the Sons of Liberty will never let that happen.” He then offered Herbert a place in his ranks and told him to fight the injustice where ever he see’s it and record everything you find out and do in regards to this fight. This was when he was speaking Herbert’s Language, though he was told to never trust the media and he should be ready for his life to never be the same again.

     That’s how the patriot known as Penalty Box came to be, this man has served the Sons of Liberty Proudly for decades and he lost everything and was reborn seeking the truth, the journals and reporting’s of this man have been crucial in our fight against the NAN and their allies. Penalty Box earned his name, by always playing rough with the enemy in battle but that aggression he held on to when engaged in simple downtime sporting activities with other patriots and confederates. He might have never once thought he would have blood on his hands, but you but a man in a live or die situation and they will do whatever it takes to survive, he as well has had everything he worked for stripped from him and his family murdered and executed by his own government for just being related to him. Can make a man do some very extreme things and when it comes to Penalty Box going to extremes is his forty, like when he cross body checked hard aginst the wall Colonial in a friendly game of floor hockey actually come to think about it thats when he earned that name Penalty Box, as Colonial sent him to it and had him doing push ups for ten minutes.

      This man is the ultimate professional and has become a substantial force on the battlefield and for the cause, he is always on the search for the truth and he still holds to his journalistic principles and code. That means he will always try to see the truth and report the facts, he has been a field soldier for the Patriots from their humble beginnings. Penalty Box is always on the move in search of more data and information as well as anything that can revel more of the hidden truth to the public. He survived those daring and trying days with his sense of duty and honour intact, he is now a warrior for the truth that the government wishes to silence for he is considered extremely dangerous do to the information and data that he has collected over the years. Penalty Box is fighting the good fight and will be crucial in the coming days, he will be out there helping inform the confused and troubled public about the events that have just transpired.

              Page Written by Snoopy