Chapter One: Fate Beowulf

The light of a new day shone on a desert area on the border between Afghanistan and Iran. In this area, buried with a rocky outcropping, was an underground facility, the only entry way being a small hatch with a fingerprint scanner. The facility was built near the end of the Cold War, by the United States, to monitor these two bordering countries and remains a complete secret to this day.

Nowadays, it's purpose was to monitor and take action against any terrorist group within the surrounding regions. It possessed multiple floors going further and further underground. It had some of the best spying technologies that had ever been created to serve its purpose. And on this day, several people were gathered for this purpose.

On the bottom-most floor of the facility, now called Area 52 by any people stationed there, there were many people sitting at a table in a dimly lit room.

"Alright, let's get started," said the man at the head of the table in a gruff voice.

He was a burly man with short, gray hair, a short beard of the same color, and tan skin with a scar over his lip. He was dressed in a dark green military uniform with several badges decorating the left side of his chest. This was the director of Area 52, Waylon Powel.

"First, the specs," he continued as he presses a blue button in front of him.

A hologram appeared over the center of the table that depicted the region they are in. There was a blue dot that represented the base they are currently in. To the north west, there was a large red dot that seemed to show an enemy stronghold.

"After months of searching, we've finally found the base of the terrorist group that have launched attacks on several dozen US embassies within the Middle East. Thanks to the spies we've sent in, we've learned that the leader's name is Kamran Amir."

The hologram showed a picture of a man in his late thirties with tanned skin, brown eyes, and short black hair.

"He was originally a soldier for the Artesh(Iranian Army), but was given a dishonorable discharge for his violent disposition. He was a brilliant but brutal strategist, often involving his own troops' sacrifice in his plans."

"We're going to have to be careful about how we proceed. There's no telling what that lunatic will do when he's backed into a corner," said another man at the table.

"You're absolutely correct. Which is why we need to go in quickly and quietly in order to take him about before he does anything rash. We need an elite group of assassins. Which is why, I want you to take this mission, Miss Beowulf."

All heads at the table turned towards a woman sitting at the opposite end to Waylon. She had shoulder-length blond hair, light, but rugged skin, and ocean blue eyes. She had a scar on her left cheek as well as over her right eye, but her face was quite beautiful regardless. She was dressed in a similar military uniform to Waylon but without all the medals.

This was Fate Beowulf, also known as "The Mad Wolf of Shifting Sands." She was one of the most successful assassins that had ever work for the United States military. Over her 30 year life, she had taken the lives of more than 1000 people. She truly was the perfect killing machine.

Her eyes bored into Waylon's making him flinch back a bit. Every time someone looked into her eyes, it felt like they were staring into a blue void, almost like an oceanic trench. It felt as if at any moment, a leviathan would burst out of the darkness and take their soul.

"My team is newly formed. We're not ready to take on a task at this level," she answered.

Waylon cleared his throat, "Ahem. You've been training them for half a year now."

"That's right. And they still can't sneak up on me, nor can they beat me in in-armed combat. They're basically still new recruits. If you want them to be fully prepared, I need at least another year."

"We can't waste anytime, Miss Beowulf. We don't know when Kamran will launch his next attack. At this point, he doesn't even care if he's killing Iranian civilians in his bombings. We need to stop him before there are anymore casualties," he answered seriously.

Fate looked at him for a few seconds before sighing, "Understood Sir."

"Good. Prepare your team immediately. You leave in two days. When you kill him, activate your beacon and we'll send you an evac. You are dismissed."

She nodded her head, got up, and left the room, "Are you sure this is a good idea sir?" one of the men asked.

"She's become too dangerous. She's strong and knows way too much. If she wanted, she could walk right over to Kamran's base and give him what he needs to attack us here. We can't let her live with so many secrets."

"But she's a valuable asset when it comes to assassinations. She's never failed a mission, sir. Don't you think that should be taken into account?"

"I have. She's definitely served with absolute loyalty and I'll make sure that the nation remembers her service. But my decision is final," Waylon answered.

The other man wanted to say more, but knew how stubborn his superior could be. So he decided to stay silent. The other men at the table also kept their mouths shut.

"Now, we she activates the beacon, we'll launch an air raid on the base. Make sure you units are notified and that they stay quiet."

Outside the door, Fate was still standing with her head down. Even though she held an expressionless face, her eyes had a gleam of sadness in them.

"So that's how it is, huh?" she said with a sigh.

She knew this might happen eventually. However, that didn't mean that she was about to just sit back and let them throw her and her team under the bus. She began to walk towards her barracks and those of her new team with a new determination. She was not about to let any of them die because of her.