Thomas Calabrese….Striker Team Infiniti was a symphony of synchronization. They weren’t just well-lubricated gears that fit perfectly into a finely tuned machine, but high tech microchips in a supercomputer operating at lightning speed and maximum efficiency. They were merchants of mayhem, couriers of carnage, and dispensers of destruction. They were righteous, merciless and ruthless. No one knew the real names of the four mysterious men, they merely went by their call signs of; Krypton, Condor, Ridge and Cloud. Their flesh was muscled steel and All American Type A plus blood flowed through their veins like molten lava. They walked so close to their own demise that one foot always dangled over the edge of the oblivion. Even the Grim Reaper stepped aside when Striker Infiniti walked by. They kept the pedal to the metal as they raced down Slaughter Highway and there were no rest stops on their trip ticket. Their GPS always pointed to a dead reckoning.
Striker Infiniti had a unique relationship with the concept of death; they could simultaneously balance it in their left hand like a mother gently holding a newborn baby and still be focused enough to deal a “dead man’s hand” to their adversaries with their right hand like a double-jointed croupier at a Poker Tournament. Death was the honorary fifth member of Striker Infiniti and was always as close as their own shadows and controlled breathing.
Every member of Striker Infiniti was living on borrow time and it was short term loan and payment was due at the discretion of the supreme lender. They moved around the world as a plague or cure depending on your perspective or political persuasion with an open ended warning to evildoers to put their affairs in order for their time in this world was about to be terminated with extreme prejudice.
They lived in a fully equipped titanium structure that resembled a celestial pod that was transported by their private transport jet to their mission of choice. On the front door was the sign, Peter’s Gate and on the back entrance was Diablo’s Hatch and they called their living quarters, Purgatory because they knew they were always somewhere between heaven and hell.
Other military units called for reinforcements when outnumbered, Striker Force Infiniti never found an enemy force they didn’t want to engage and obliterate and charged into Harm’s Way without hesitation. Their lives were so intricately intertwined with a singular goal that they might as well as be living in each other’s body and mind.
The large Isis Forces were located on the Syrian border and numbered somewhere about ten thousand fighters. They had been wreaking havoc throughout the region for too long and when world governments failed to engage the brutal terrorists and protect residents of the area Striker Infiniti put the deviant degenerates in their crosshairs and proceeded accordingly. Their laser rifles were nuclear powered and had ten year energy packs so as long as they could hold the trigger down they could inflict disastrous destruction.
Striker Infiniti approached the massive force in a showdown of Epic proportions, reminiscent of the 300 Spartans fighting the Persians at the Battle of Thermopylae. Their laser beams cut the enemy down like lawnmowers rolling through a dandelion field as Striker Force Infiniti moved forward in unison, never stopping or hesitating for an instant even as bullets whizzed by their heads like a weaponized swarm of hornets and the earth shook from exploding bombs.
After two days of nonstop combat, the entire ten thousand Isis force lied rotting in the sun like the human garbage that they were while three members of Striker Force Infiniti had fought their final battle. The skies flashed with lightning and the thunder was deafening as Heaven and Hell battled for the warrior souls of Striker Team Infiniti.
Only Cloud survived as he stood on the mountaintop, a living icon of truth and justice and felt the spirits of his fallen comrades rush inside his heart, moments later he issued a pledge. “We’re coming to get you!” Cloud’s voice echoed across the desert and to every corner of the world where evil lurked and no cavernous sinkhole or fortress of stone and steel could offer sanctuary to those who preyed upon the innocent and defenseless. For at any given moment the miscreants and depraved creatures of civilized society knew they could look up and see the impending Cloud of Doom ready to unleash lethal fury upon them. Trembling in fear and pleading for mercy would only fall on deaf ears for retribution and justice would not be denied or even delayed. What had been an indomitable force of four had now become the ultimate weapon of one.