I would love to have a go at this prick, but we have no time to tell the old fucker what he can do; we're prepped and ready to fly. This is one of the things I love most about being here, the free-falling until you have to maneuver yourself to hit your targeted landing.
When the hull light glows green, we haul ass out and set sail in an entirely different way. Although exhilarating, the flight is short, and we all hit our intended mark on the ground.
Now, the real work gets started. We're a mile and a half from the site, so we'll literally hit the ground running. This is supposed to be a simple mission, in and out, SR or Special Reconnaissance operation.
Floyd gives the hand commands, and we split into two teams. The intel focuses on two individuals being held hostage. No one has been in direct contact, but there’s a report of three missing.
The four minutes it takes to get to our target helps get the blood pumping, but the second Floyd's voice breaks through the silence, my racing heart is ready to roll.
"Second-floor window on the right." My eyes dart to the material, moving ever so slightly in the soft breeze. "Locked in."
The signal to move ahead. I turn my head from side to side, releasing my pent-up tension. According to the sign, they're here, and nothing is harder than finding your own but needing to wait to bring them out.
"Building three." Floyd's commands are specific and precise.
Simultaneously, we advance toward our objective’s last known vicinity. The cover of the night helps us to move quickly and virtually unseen. We observe radio silence as we make headway and are poised at the building next to our target.
We enter the structure, searching every nook and cranny. Connor glances at me just as the hair on the nape of my neck stands. I move my head from side to side, minutely.
I know he's thinking the same thing, we've been in tune like this from the first day of training. We need to get the hell out of here, and with every passing minute, the tension refuses to wane.
A heaviness settles in the pit of my belly, everything in me is screaming this isn't right. I continue to scan the area, my senses heightened. My training taught me to fight because there is no flight.
Floyd turns to us, three fingers up, and then points straight ahead. A nod of understanding and we advance on our goal. At some point, Floyd has to call this, we're in more profound than we ever should've been.
Two fingers up... one.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
My ears ring as Riggins and Floyd take the brunt of three blasts aimed to take us all out. The hall fills with debris as we fall victim to an ambush. A quick gaze over my shoulder, apparent to us, we're blocked off from the rest.
With our backs to the wall, I'm jolted into action as the crackle in my ear from Connor shouts through the headpiece. "Move!"
The sound of rapid-fire echoes around us, we fire back, giving as good as we get. We need a visual of our surroundings, but it's near impossible as dirt and dust fly around the hallway as thick as gunfire.
Connor and I stand back to back, moving simultaneously, trying to get the fuck out of this death trap. A rapid-fire of pops rains down, pinning us to the wall. Finally, he targets an opening. Connor signals, and then he rolls out.
He enters the room, blind, and I follow. This is the way we've always run our mission, and until today, it worked damn well. I'm pelted with cement and debris from the walls as I hurry through the opening. Soon, I'm met with darkness.
I trip, falling to the floor with a thud. For a split-second, I'm paralyzed with fear until my instincts kick in. I hit the floor, crawling my way through the hail of bullets to search for Connor.
A sharp pain rips through my thigh, followed by one to my ribs. I wince, forcing myself forward before I'm hit again. I roll to my back, pressing my shoulder injury into the floor.
My surroundings become blurry, a garbled mess of words and movement. I scramble to my knees and ready for my defense. A dense, vast sound at my back stuns me briefly and then a thud.
"Connor?" My best friend's name is the last words I utter as I fall face-first into the concrete floor. My head throbs with every pulse of my heart, there's a sharp sting in my leg and shoulder. I blink, and it fills my sight with darkness. Pain shoots through me, and I squeeze them shut. Again, I force my eyes open. The smallest amount of light is blinding. As both sound and light fade into the distance, the will to fight for consciousness follows.
"Look what I caught!" I scream, excited to show everyone my prize catch. I turn to the people behind me, holding up my fish but something’s off. I stumble back, trying to focus on their faces.
They have none. Nothing but a void of where their nose and mouth should be, nothing. Just a blurry palette of colors. I squeeze my eyes closed, shaking the image from my head.
"I-I'm looking for someone else. Where are they?" I thrash against something, hitting my shoulder hard and putting my body in agony.
"AHH! Fuck!" Bile rises in the back of my throat, making me aware I'm finally awake, as the pain from my arm sickens me. I roll to my side, and pain shoots through me like a sharp knife. My body contorts, throwing me into the wall behind me, as the hand of darkness drags me back to the hell of being shackled to my subconsciousness.
"Wake up!" I crumple over, face planting into the floor. The pain hardly registers at this point, I'm lightheaded and can't stay upright without leaning against the wall.
I hold my hand out, hoping they'll give me a minute to catch my breath, but I'm not afforded such luck. I sustain another kick to my ribs before they apply pressure to my thigh.
"Who are you?" A deep, rough voice cuts through the fog before I can answer, I'm being flipped over to my back. I lose my breath as my back smacks the floor.
My eyes are dry and swollen to the point, they're mere slits. I stiffen when I can barely make out the figures standing over me. "The place on his head is still seeping, I don't think he's with us enough to know who he is or anyone else."
Anyone else? Am I not alone? Is someone here with me? I swallow, hoping to wet my mouth enough that I can force my questions out. I need to know; I have to find out if Connor is alive. I'm not sure I can survive this alone.
The slightest move sends me spiraling into excruciating pain. My throat closes as I struggle for words, wrestling for nothing to come out. I push the tip of my tongue from my parched mouth, raking it over my rough and torn lips. Still, nothing sounds remotely like words come out.
I can hear a noise mimicking shuffling feet in the distance. Suddenly, something cold and wet drops on my forehead. By the time I figure out what they're doing, I'm drenched with water being poured over my face, and I gasp for air.
My body buckles, twisting into a pretzel from the pain of my injuries, and I gasp for air. I'm jerked up and dragged across the room as they push my head into more water. Held there, I can't move. I'm drowning. This time, my mind shuts itself down, sparing my body from the torture.
"Wait..." I narrow my eyes, hoping to get a better look at her. "come back." I reach for her as she fades into the darkness. "Please, don't leave again. Stay and talk to me."
I hold my hand out, playing with the vision in front of me. My sight runs together, mixing the picture like watercolors. Again, her face blurs beyond recognition. The image develops quickly and fades as fast. The internal tug deep within coaxes me to go with her.