"Alpha Whiskey, this is Beta Hawk do you copy?" The transmission tickles my ear. I grab my mouth piece and whisper back. "Alpha Whiskey in position. I read you loud and clear". I gulp an empty mouth. My throat feels like it's a dry well. Sweat keeps seeping through my eyes. I try to wipe them with my hands, but the gloves only leave friction burns on my face. My ear rings with words once more.
"Remember Alpha, you've got fifteen minutes to find them civis. This place is gonna get pounded with enough firepower to light up the sky. In fifteen minutes, this place ain't gonna exist. Remember, 15. No exceptions. There's won't be no rescue team coming after ya. Got it?"
Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to find 4 civilian hostages and return them to safety. Goose bumps crawl to life all over my body. An icy shiver runs down my spine. I look back. I see three troopers ready to move upon my command. That adds up to seven lives I need to account for. Seven lives to save in fifteen minutes. Should be plenty.
It's been over a year since the war started. We've managed to neutralize most of the enemy, but a few straggling battalions still put up a difficult resistance. The place we're in now is supposedly the last of the enemy's main holdout places. That's what they'd told us the last time we stormed against a burning city filled with corpses and battered buildings that once represented a magnificent and glorious metropolis. And the time before that. And the time before that. I know for certain this isn't the enemy's last fortress. We could easily call in heavy mortar fire and airstrikes to flatten every last standing building in the forsaken country, but those cursed civis keep popping up like those undying cockroaches. Otherwise, this would be an easy task. The enemy knows this too. So they keep taking civilians hostage, so as to prolong their inevitable defeat, hoping to survive a few days longer. Most of them don't succeed.
I wave my hands to signal my men to follow suit. As I crouch and roll from one wrecked vehicle to the next, I ask myself how I'd gotten myself in this position. I'd begged the headquarter to put in for these sorts of missions. They first laughed at me as they pounded their tables and twirled around their chairs with their mouths agape. With every successful mission, the laughters slowly dwindled. Fewer people pointed their fingers of scorn and ridicule at my face. Eventually, they started to order me to take on hostage rescue missions. Most men don't survive for more than two missions. I've survived 8. Why did I sign up for such a position? Ever since I killed my friend, my comrades have abandoned me one by one. Higher-ranked officers have spat at me and called me a worthless piece of trash, that if it weren't for this war, they'd have dispatched me a long time ago. Maybe I'd signed up for this position to prove to them that I'm not worthless, that I can contribute to this war. Maybe I'd signed up so that people around can't jeer at me anymore, to make people stop looking at me with those judgmental eyes and scornful smirks. Or maybe I signed up for this, because I feel guilty. I feel guilty for killing my friend, for not taking those blasted bullets instead. I'd taken his life and his chance to go home to see his family; maybe I'm trying to repent for that mistake by giving other people a chance to go back to their homes.
After what seems like hours, we finally arrive at an abandoned building with part of its roof chewed away. Termite-worn planks with dark burn blotches make a for a lousy excuse of a door. One kick and we're in. The room is pitch black. I hear loud yells. Flash lights turn on in front of us. We turn our lights on, but they don't come from flash lights. Thud, Thud, Thud. More undecipherable sounds, but they're from the second floor. I take a look at my watch. 12:10 left. Spent too much time. The stairs don't have a foundation on the floor; they project out from the wall. I beckon my men to hurry in between the space between the floor and the stairs. The noises approach closer. I see a soldier step down to the ground and turn towards the entrance. One of my men slowly raises his rifle, but I raise my arm to signal halt. Wait until they're all down. One more, two more, three more men come rushing down to see what caused the commotion. They all hover around their lifeless, bloody comrades. That's when I give the signal. We jump out and open fire. They never find out what got them. No time to rest. I rush up the steps. I reach the second floor and turn on the flash light at the tip of my rifle. No sign of any enemy. Yet. I search all the rooms from one end to the other, until at last, I hear a small whimpering. I tell one of my men to guard the stairs, one to scout from the window, and one to follow. I crouch until I can smell the foul stench of rat feces. Sweat continues to blind me, so I blink a couple of times, but it only seeps deeper and burns my eyes. I take a swift look around the room for any suspicious movements. I spot a rather large bundle wrapped in a tattered sick-green blanket in the corner. I approach the mass carefully, signaling the solider behind me to be prepared. I timidly stretch out my hand, nervously anticipating what the blanket holds within its lair. I quickly rip the blanket away and instantly recoil my arm back to my rifle. I see four heads. All of them have the same expression on their faces that my friend had before I killed him. One, two, three, four. I bring my mouth piece close. "Beta Hawk, this is Alpha Whiskey, do you copy?" Nothing but static for a few moments. I hear a slight crackle. "Yeah I read you loud and clear Alpha. Tell me some good news."
"We got the package." I feel my legs shake a little. The adrenaline must be wearing off now. My chest tightens slightly.
"Well let's see if you got what it takes to deliver it. You got less than 10 minutes. Make 'em count!"
I look at my watch. 9:46. Distance from the extraction point: 800 feet. Plenty of time. I reach out to the civilians, but before I can help them to their feet, a huge impact sends cement shrapnel falling from the ceiling. The soldier scouting from the window rushes in.
"Sir, we've got big problems. Enemies are zoning in all around us."
It can't be. What are all the soldiers doing outside? "That can't be right. Where's our support?"
"I believe we've under estimated the enemy's numbers. They're swarming into this position."
My mind races at exponential speed. If only these sweats would stop getting into my eyes!
"Contact that useless commander out there and tell him to concentrate his men to this position! We need to get these civis out of here as soon as possible! We don't have time!" I pull up my sleeve and stare at my wrist. 8:37. I bite into my lips. I flap my hands at the civilians, but they're too scared to move. I roll my eyes and tell the soldier behind me to escort them. I suddenly hear gun shots. They echo through the empty rooms and into my ear. The civilians crouch to the floor with their hands above their heads. I quickly move towards the staircase. Thankfully, my soldier's still alive.
"Was beginning to wonder when you guys would show up. These guys keep coming wave after wave. What do you want us to do?"
"We finish what we started." I reply. "Save these people, so we can save ourselves."
"Last person to make it to the extract buys everyone a round later?" He casts an ironic smile.
I can't help but to chuckle a little. "Deal."
Two of the soldiers lead the front with me, while one protects the rear. We cautiously retrace our steps back out. But before I can set half a step outside, hordes of bullets fly around the entranceway. No choice but to pull back. Problem is, they know where we are, but we don't know any of their position.
"Hey you!" I grab one of the soldiers. "Call that cursed commander and get some help now!"
After what seems like hours, we finally arrive at an abandoned building with part of its roof chewed away. Termite-worn planks with dark burn blotches make a for a lousy excuse of a door. One kick and we're in. The room is pitch black. I hear loud yells. Flash lights turn on in front of us. We turn our lights on, but they don't come from flash lights. Thud, Thud, Thud. More undecipherable sounds, but they're from the second floor. I take a look at my watch. 12:10 left. Spent too much time. The stairs don't have a foundation on the floor; they project out from the wall. I beckon my men to hurry in between the space between the floor and the stairs. The noises approach closer. I see a soldier step down to the ground and turn towards the entrance. One of my men slowly raises his rifle, but I raise my arm to signal halt. Wait until they're all down. One more, two more, three more men come rushing down to see what caused the commotion. They all hover around their lifeless, bloody comrades. That's when I give the signal. We jump out and open fire. They never find out what got them. No time to rest. I rush up the steps. I reach the second floor and turn on the flash light at the tip of my rifle. No sign of any enemy. Yet. I search all the rooms from one end to the other, until at last, I hear a small whimpering. I tell one of my men to guard the stairs, one to scout from the window, and one to follow. I crouch until I can smell the foul stench of rat feces. Sweat continues to blind me, so I blink a couple of times, but it only seeps deeper and burns my eyes. I take a swift look around the room for any suspicious movements. I spot a rather large bundle wrapped in a tattered sick-green blanket in the corner. I approach the mass carefully, signaling the solider behind me to be prepared. I timidly stretch out my hand, nervously anticipating what the blanket holds within its lair. I quickly rip the blanket away and instantly recoil my arm back to my rifle. I see four heads. All of them have the same expression on their faces that my friend had before I killed him. One, two, three, four. I bring my mouth piece close. "Beta Hawk, this is Alpha Whiskey, do you copy?" Nothing but static for a few moments. I hear a slight crackle. "Yeah I read you loud and clear Alpha. Tell me some good news."
"We got the package." I feel my legs shake a little. The adrenaline must be wearing off now. My chest tightens slightly.
"Well let's see if you got what it takes to deliver it. You got less than 10 minutes. Make 'em count!"
I look at my watch. 9:46. Distance from the extraction point: 800 feet. Plenty of time. I reach out to the civilians, but before I can help them to their feet, a huge impact sends cement shrapnel falling from the ceiling. The soldier scouting from the window rushes in.
"Sir, we've got big problems. Enemies are zoning in all around us."
It can't be. What are all the soldiers doing outside? "That can't be right. Where's our support?"
"I believe we've under estimated the enemy's numbers. They're swarming into this position."
My mind races at exponential speed. If only these sweats would stop getting into my eyes!
"Contact that useless commander out there and tell him to concentrate his men to this position! We need to get these civis out of here as soon as possible! We don't have time!" I pull up my sleeve and stare at my wrist. 8:37. I bite into my lips. I flap my hands at the civilians, but they're too scared to move. I roll my eyes and tell the soldier behind me to escort them. I suddenly hear gun shots. They echo through the empty rooms and into my ear. The civilians crouch to the floor with their hands above their heads. I quickly move towards the staircase. Thankfully, my soldier's still alive.
"Was beginning to wonder when you guys would show up. These guys keep coming wave after wave. What do you want us to do?"
"We finish what we started." I reply. "Save these people, so we can save ourselves."
"Last person to make it to the extract buys everyone a round later?" He casts an ironic smile.
I can't help but to chuckle a little. "Deal."
Two of the soldiers lead the front with me, while one protects the rear. We cautiously retrace our steps back out. But before I can set half a step outside, hordes of bullets fly around the entranceway. No choice but to pull back. Problem is, they know where we are, but we don't know any of their position.
"Hey you!" I grab one of the soldiers. "Call that cursed commander and get some help now!"
He fumbles the walkie-talkie for a little while until he finally speaks into it. I take a smoke grenade from my chest strap and pull the pin. I wait until enemy fire slows down a little. I throw it underhand across my chest and out through the door way. It won't do much good, but it'll at least buy us a few extra seconds. Instead of charging through the smoke, I stay close to the building's facade. Hopefully the enemy would concentrate on whatever may come out of the smoke and pay less attention to the sides. I see a thick grove of trees just 100 feet away. I tell everyone to run to that forest, because their lives depended on it. My legs burn with every step and my lungs feel like they're overblown balloons, but I know I can't stop. A few bullets wheeze in front and behind me, but I can't pay attention to those right now. I got to keep running. We finally reach the grove. It's not the extraction point, but at least we can run far enough from the demolition site. I look at my watch again: 6:29. Plenty of time spare. I wave my arm to the far end of the grove. Before I have time to turn around, an agitating wail emanates from behind. I turn back to see one of the female civilians screaming, "My baby! She's still back there! My baby! She's still back there!"
I drop my arms to my side. Only short puffs of unbelief come out of my mouth.
"Did any of you idiots think to check to make sure all the civilians were present!?!?"
The soldiers remain speechless. They're just as dumbfounded as I am. I point my shaking finger to the soldier that I had instructed to escort the civilians from the room. "You! You couldn't even follow a simple command? All you had to do was to make sure all the civilians left that room!"
"I--I--I" He stammers like he has some speech impairment. I grind my teeth and kick the nearest tree.
I look at my watch again: 5:28. I scrunch my face in agony and rub my forehead with my trigger finger and thumb. Then I say two words that shock me while I say it : "Cover me."
I lean against a tree nearest to the building where the cursed civilian is still at. I slide my head to the left and spot at least three men aiming at my general direction. I take out a flash grenade.
"Turn around!" I yell back to my men. I pull the pin with my teeth and chuck the piece of scrap metal behind my back. Even with my back turned and eyes closed, I can still see a bright flash of bright vanilla color. I wait a second to open my eyes and turn around. The enemies that were stupid enough to look straight at the flash bang got what they deserved. I place my rifle snuggly between my shoulder and chest and open fire. I duck and run as fast as my legs can carry me towards that entrance again. I stumble a couple of times, even needing to use one of my hands to fully push myself back up, but I finally manage to arrive at my destination. I rush upstairs, hoping that the kid left behind is still in one piece. I see two enemies scouting out the rooms. Our eyes meet at the same time, but our reflexes are on a completely different level. As smoke slowly uncoils above my rifle, so do my enemies curl up on the floor. I quickly retrace my steps back to the room where I first found the civilians. I see a little girl cowering in a corner, her knees brought close to her chest and her arms around her legs. She shivers and cries incessantly. I put my rifle behind my shoulder and pick her up in my arms. I try to smile at her, but she continues to cry. I bring the girl closer to my chest and twist my arm to check the time: 3:15. Now I really don't know if I can make it or not... I walk over the corpses of my enemy and make sure she doesn't see none of it. Before I can turn the corner to reach the stair, a loud bang resonates across the hall of the second floor. Indescribable pain spreads through my body starting from leg like wild fire. I collapse to the floor. I turn my head and bring my leg that hurts the most closely. A clean shot right through my calf. I look farther back and see one of the enemies with a raise pistol. He tries to take another shot, but I take mine before he can. My fault for not making sure they were all dead. The girl stands above me, still crying, but not hysterically anymore. She tries to help me stand up, but I fail the first few times. It feels like my leg is getting eaten away at by thousands of safari ants. Too much pain to put much weight on it. I'm panting like a dog during midday in summer. My legs feel numb and swollen. Even my equipments, which started out weighing a total of 70lbs, feel triple that. I look at my watch again. 1:44. Got no time to complain about a tiny flesh wound. I lean against the wall and finally manage to stand up, but with my legs quivering as if it were winter. I ask the girl if she can possibly walk by herself. She nods. First good news of the day. We finally reach the bottom of the stairs and peak through the entrance. My men from the forest continue to ward off any major threats from the building. But it's still not enough. There's just too many. I push the child behind me and hop outside. Horrible aim if you're trying to shoot on one foot. I yell at the girl to stay behind me at all times and we hobble across to the groves. 100 feet to go. 95. 90. 80.70.60. Another bang. Another shot of pain through my body. This time it's a little higher than my legs. I cup my side with my right hand. Blood seeps through even the tightly closed fingers. The girl kneels beside me and tries to pull me back up. I wave her away and tell her to run. She shakes her head and screams no. I use my other hand to forcefully push her away. One of the soldiers from the groves comes towards us. He tries to drag me, but break his grip away from my shoulder. "Take the girl! Take the girl! Take her home!" The soldier hesitates for a moments, but close snips of bullet across his face and shoulders help him to decide quickly. I see them running hand in hand, ducking this way and that way, when they can't even tell where enemy fires are coming from. My eyes seem to haze a little. It's getting more difficult to open my eyes completely. Breathing getting heavier by the second. My side pain helps me to nullify my leg pain. Just a little though. I take one more look at the watch: 5. I look across the horizon. I see three fighter F-14's. I chuckle an ironic chuckle and lie on my back. I guess I can't go back home after all. 4. 3. 2. 1. The last thing I hear are a couple of cluster rockets screeching through the air. The last I see are large rubbles from the building beside me blotting out the sun.
I lean against a tree nearest to the building where the cursed civilian is still at. I slide my head to the left and spot at least three men aiming at my general direction. I take out a flash grenade.
"Turn around!" I yell back to my men. I pull the pin with my teeth and chuck the piece of scrap metal behind my back. Even with my back turned and eyes closed, I can still see a bright flash of bright vanilla color. I wait a second to open my eyes and turn around. The enemies that were stupid enough to look straight at the flash bang got what they deserved. I place my rifle snuggly between my shoulder and chest and open fire. I duck and run as fast as my legs can carry me towards that entrance again. I stumble a couple of times, even needing to use one of my hands to fully push myself back up, but I finally manage to arrive at my destination. I rush upstairs, hoping that the kid left behind is still in one piece. I see two enemies scouting out the rooms. Our eyes meet at the same time, but our reflexes are on a completely different level. As smoke slowly uncoils above my rifle, so do my enemies curl up on the floor. I quickly retrace my steps back to the room where I first found the civilians. I see a little girl cowering in a corner, her knees brought close to her chest and her arms around her legs. She shivers and cries incessantly. I put my rifle behind my shoulder and pick her up in my arms. I try to smile at her, but she continues to cry. I bring the girl closer to my chest and twist my arm to check the time: 3:15. Now I really don't know if I can make it or not... I walk over the corpses of my enemy and make sure she doesn't see none of it. Before I can turn the corner to reach the stair, a loud bang resonates across the hall of the second floor. Indescribable pain spreads through my body starting from leg like wild fire. I collapse to the floor. I turn my head and bring my leg that hurts the most closely. A clean shot right through my calf. I look farther back and see one of the enemies with a raise pistol. He tries to take another shot, but I take mine before he can. My fault for not making sure they were all dead. The girl stands above me, still crying, but not hysterically anymore. She tries to help me stand up, but I fail the first few times. It feels like my leg is getting eaten away at by thousands of safari ants. Too much pain to put much weight on it. I'm panting like a dog during midday in summer. My legs feel numb and swollen. Even my equipments, which started out weighing a total of 70lbs, feel triple that. I look at my watch again. 1:44. Got no time to complain about a tiny flesh wound. I lean against the wall and finally manage to stand up, but with my legs quivering as if it were winter. I ask the girl if she can possibly walk by herself. She nods. First good news of the day. We finally reach the bottom of the stairs and peak through the entrance. My men from the forest continue to ward off any major threats from the building. But it's still not enough. There's just too many. I push the child behind me and hop outside. Horrible aim if you're trying to shoot on one foot. I yell at the girl to stay behind me at all times and we hobble across to the groves. 100 feet to go. 95. 90. 80.70.60. Another bang. Another shot of pain through my body. This time it's a little higher than my legs. I cup my side with my right hand. Blood seeps through even the tightly closed fingers. The girl kneels beside me and tries to pull me back up. I wave her away and tell her to run. She shakes her head and screams no. I use my other hand to forcefully push her away. One of the soldiers from the groves comes towards us. He tries to drag me, but break his grip away from my shoulder. "Take the girl! Take the girl! Take her home!" The soldier hesitates for a moments, but close snips of bullet across his face and shoulders help him to decide quickly. I see them running hand in hand, ducking this way and that way, when they can't even tell where enemy fires are coming from. My eyes seem to haze a little. It's getting more difficult to open my eyes completely. Breathing getting heavier by the second. My side pain helps me to nullify my leg pain. Just a little though. I take one more look at the watch: 5. I look across the horizon. I see three fighter F-14's. I chuckle an ironic chuckle and lie on my back. I guess I can't go back home after all. 4. 3. 2. 1. The last thing I hear are a couple of cluster rockets screeching through the air. The last I see are large rubbles from the building beside me blotting out the sun.
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