Delta Three Six Alpha

I split off from the others, sprinting away to the RV point. We had to split up, they knew that, or we’d all be dead in one well-aimed burst. We were all professionals, but I could sense the fear in the atmosphere. Once the hunters, now the hunted.

I had led these men, and I could read their body language perfectly. Venom, I knew, thought there was no way we’d make it out alive… But he kept that thought secret. And a good job too, for… It was a mutual thought. There were sure to be ghillie snipers in the field next to the RV point. We couldn’t take them out - Clover was a good sniper, but he’d need time to take them out without being shot himself, and that was time we did not have. We’d literally just have to sprint across to the chopper and hope the snipers were slow reacting to the movement.

…Not the most desirable position to be in, but there was no time to think about that. Just take out your gun, Wave, and move.

So I moved, faster than I ever had before. It was the adrenaline, the instinctive, animalistic fear of death that drove me and the others on. We had all sprinted several different ways, but we were all converging on the same thing - the helicopter, the escape, silently waiting past the jaws of death that were the half-mile of sniper territory separating the squad from it.

A crackle over the radio, and a whisper. Whose? The voice was miserable, pessimistic, and gruff. Yeah… That was Clover.

“Guys, get down a second, I got this.”

I shook my head, bewildered. He’d surely made the same connection I had - snipers.

“There isn’t any time, Clover. Snipers or no snipers, we have to go. NOW.”

“Thirty seconds, Wave. That’s all I’m asking for.”

I grunted in response and deliberated for a moment. Clover… He was a miserable git. Not the most fun to be around. But, the result was that he took his job very, very seriously. A consummate professional - Clover would not ask for thirty seconds unless he had a bloody good reason. But…

“Clover, you can’t. Hypo’s with you. It’s too risky. We can’t lose both of you.”

“Exactly.” was all I got in response.

“I swear, Clover, if we make it out of this fucking place…” I started cursing, before comprehension dawned upon me. “Oh. Disregard.” I’d completely forgotten - Hypo always took a thermal sniper scope with him on missions - he was heavily paranoid, and carried a thermal scope in his gear EVERYWHERE. Never before had I approved - but now, I’d never question him about it again. That much was sure.

Clover had evidently attached the scope to his sniper, and was picking the hidden ones off in quick succession, their body heat ultimately being their downfall. His voice came through again over the radio. “Done, now let’s move. I can hear them coming.”

I listened for a moment. Nothing had ever incited dread in me like the shouts in a foreign language - all too close behind for comfort. “Let’s move.” I growled, bracing myself to run again. My heart pounded in my chest.

I ran, and around me, so did six others, all converging on the silhouette of the chopper in the distance. More shouts from behind, but too far away.

BANG!

I had been hit by a train; of that much I was sure. I staggered backward, clutching my stomach, my vision blurring in front of me.

What happened?

I fell to my knees, and then flat on the floor, groggily. In the last moments before I lost consciousness, I saw the hand I’d clapped to the source of the pain. Covered in blood.

So this is it…