312, Part 1 - I Was Puzzled and Frustrated

I was dropped off by the Pelican one kilometer north of the village. I walked the rest of the way, making my way through a forest. It was 0140 hours, but it was still quite warm because this area was so close to the planet’s equator. The deciduous trees blocked out the light from the three moons reflecting the light of the system’s star. I moved in silence, avoiding the snapping of twigs and the crushing of leaves and small bushes and shrubbery. After about twenty minutes of walking, I reached a small hill overlooking the village, where my target and her accomplices were allegedly based in.
I entered the village proper. It was a rural community of roughly one thousand people of various different ethnic and national backgrounds from across Earth, although North Americans were a plurality. The structures of the village were thus constructed in general American/Canadian vernacular designs. As I walked in the shadows I stopped and moved against the wall of a house, where I spotted two armed insurgents standing on a street corner in front of a café. One had a pump-action shotgun with nickel finish and polymer furnishings, while the other had an HMG-38 in the “Monitor Rifle” configuration.
I used my M7S to quickly dispatch the two, firing at their heads in rapid succession and instantly killing them. I put their bodies in a nearby garbage disposal unit. I was not detected, and so continued on. Walking further down the street, the moons threw their light onto the pavement, which meant that if I wanted to remain hidden I would have to stick to the shadows, which I did. By now the breeze had died down, and the temperature remained steady at roughly 28 degrees Celsius. The humidity was significant, but fortunately I did not experience any of the weather at all. I continued onward. At 0205, I reached one of my objectives, the village community center where intelligence stated that a cell of the People’s United Revolutionary Army, or “PURA,” was storing their heavy weapons in its basement. Intelligence on PURA had been accurate so far, so I had no reason to doubt or question this.
I approached a side door of the center, noting the lack of a security camera. I used a lockpicking mechanism supplied to me by ONI, placing the device on the door and activating it. The tendrils of the device reached to the keyhole of the door and after a few moments the door was unlocked. I took an attentive survey of my environment and found nothing to worry about, so I went in. I moved quickly to the security office, where I dispatched the lone guard working there with a single suppressed gunshot to the head. I checked the monitors showing the cameras of the basement, and verified the existence of numerous unmarked crates, with two armed insurgents idling around them, apparently talking to one another. I took the stairs down and made my way to the crates where I quickly killed the insurgents.
I opened one crate and found several man-portable surface-to-air missile launchers. In another, I found heavy machine guns. And in one more, I discovered neatly-stacked blocks of plastic explosives. I rigged several blocks of the insurgents’ own explosives to detonate on command, bringing the detonator with me. Then I left the community center through the side door and proceeded with the rest of my mission.
I arrived at the village’s small church at 0221 hours, the building constructed of wood and painted white. I hid behind a large truck, shrouded in darkness, as I observed an SUV containing four members of PURA pull up to a sparking space near the church. They exited the vehicle and proceeded up the sidewalk. One of them, a tall man with a tight-fitting button-up shirt, dark blue tie, dark blue trousers, and black wingtip shoes, knocked on the door. I identified him as Jesse Isaacson, one of my high-profile targets. One of the insurgents accompanying him, a woman wearing a plain tan shirt dark gray cargo pants and boots, was another high-profile target, Jessica Murray. She carried an M6A in a holster on her right side. The two other insurgents accompanying them were armed guards, and they stayed in front of the church while Isaacson and Murray went inside. Intelligence stated that the meeting I would interrupt would consist of Isaacson, Murray, a Catholic priest named Esteban Jimenez, and Zinoviy Martinov, one of the last-surviving Insurrectionist leaders who escaped UNSC forces in Operation: CHARLEMAGNE. However, Martinov was nowhere to be found. I found this frustrating, and I held in this emotion as I proceeded. I moved, unseen, to the back of the church and entered through an open window.
I stayed in the shadows, sneaking up close enough to Isaacson and Murray, who were speaking to a priest, by the altar. They did not notice me. Isaacson said, “Earth is stepping up its game. Rumors are flooding across the movement that they’re sending out death squads full of supersoldiers to try and crush any cell they find.”
Murray said, “Then we have to up the pressure we’re applying. We have to start moving more openly again.”
Esteban Jimenez, said, “Up the pressure? That’s a dangerous gamble. We’ve already garnered the support of nearly everyone in the village, and about half of the people on Trinity.”
Isaacson responded that the population would firmly support PURA no matter what, while Murray added that their organization’s supply runs continued largely unabated. Jimenez continued to stress caution, saying that any major incidents could shift public opinion against PURA, something the priest remarked as fatal to their cause. At this point, I decided to eliminate all three.
I stepped out of the shadows, making my heavy footfall noticeable to all three individuals, although I was careful not to alert the guards outside. I pointed my M7S at Murray. All three of them were surprised, and I noticed a tinge of fear in Isaacson’s face. Jimenez was stoic, while Murray grew defiant, frowning and glaring at me. She called me an expletive and moved her hand quickly to her own handgun, but I warned her not to, and so she backed down. I asked them where Martinov was. Murray told me to go to Hell. I shot her once with my SMG, where the bullet shattered her skull and killed her instantly. I asked again where Martinov was. Isaacson said that he would never tell me, that Earth no longer had the right to control anyone’s lives outside the Solar System anymore, and that I might as well shoot him now. I did so, killing him. I again asked where Martinov was. Jimenez ignored me, and was instead reciting the Lord’s Prayer. I found that interesting, and then I shot and killed him. At this time, the two guards outside entered the church, no doubt hearing some noise from the suppressed gunshots and the collapse of three bodies onto the stone floor. I killed both of them without much effort, and then set a small fire in the church’s rectory.
I continued to Martinov’s house. I abandoned some caution – due to the frustration of not seeing Martinov at the church – and I kicked open the home’s door, where I found Martinov, a gray-bearded and portly man, sleeping on his couch, with a half-empty bottle of vodka and a magnum on a small table next to it. The television was turned on to adult animation. Martinov was stirred out of his stupor by the commotion, but I gave him no chance at all and shot him in the head as soon as I could confirm his identity. Then, I set a fire in his house’s kitchen.
I left the village and after finding myself at the extraction point one kilometer east of the settlement near a stream, I detonated the explosives I set in the community center. Then, I radioed back to command. I said, “Command, this is SPARTAN-B312. Mission objectives accomplished. I repeat, mission objectives accomplished. Targets neutralized. Awaiting evac. Over.”
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