Christian Frey@captainfrey Age: 26 Sex: ♂ Height: 6'1 Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Blonde Occupation: Military Position: Seke
"Respect your superiors & your weapon and you will survive."
My name is Christian Frey. You may call me "Captain". I have worked too hard to earn that title for it not be used. I entered the military at the age of 16 and never looked back. My passion is my work, meaning, I have not time for anything but. My greatest possession is my BERETTA 92FS INOX which I cherish more than my own Mother.
My "Commander" @RafaelDemosca
Chapter One: Mission Failure
"GODDAMNIT!" The captain cried, as the sirens pierced the darkness with their song. Christian faced his forces as the darkness became stained with red and orange blasts and the patter of rapid fire.
"Fall back!!" He commanded, holding his arm out as straight as an arrow before he dropped it quickly to his side. It was the sign for a physical retreat and Christian hated using it. It was the ultimate sign of defeat, one that they couldn't recover from. He jumped off of the stone he had been scouting from, landing on the hard ground causing the dust from the dry land to float around the hem of his jacket. Wasting no time, the captain cocked his revolver against his glove expertly.
Christian shifted his waist, drawing his left arm back and positioning his right arm in the desired position. Not loosing speed as he half turned, the captain shoot at the infantry that emerged from behind the black gated wall. The gate was wide open now, which had been their mission initially save from the hordes of armed soldiers poured out from behind the dark doors. Christian's only flaw lay in not being able to perceive the enemy first. It was as if the enemy knew they were coming. Christian lowered his eyes against the blackness and fired, hitting one of the enemy soldiers causing him to gurgle as the bullet impacted.
"Fall back!!" The captain commanded once more, pushing his voice to the breaking point. He projected over the sound of his men falling almost about around him. Christian could see the fear in his men's eyes as they ran from their deaths. Good men being almost rhythmically executed and torn apart by shrap metal as if they were paper dolls. [TBC]