The sound of static in his ear heralded another command. Try as they might, their forces hadn't managed to make inroads with the general population. So be it. It would have made their lives infinitely easier here, but it wasn't a dealbreaker. Using hand motions, he directed half of his troops to the left, the other half to the right. He'd be heading upwards, providing cover as they entered the small base they were after. Fucking terrorists, holed up underground beneath a bunker they hadn't managed to blow to pieces yet. Damn thing was built like a nuclear protection facility. It'd taken everything they'd thrown at it. Now, their only choice was to go in on the ground.
Wasn't anything new for them. They'd done this before. He was proud of his team, trusted each and every one of them at his back without fail. Scaling one of the brick buildings with a ladder they'd put there in the dim pre-dawn light, he shimmied across the lead wires they'd laid to get to the tallest building without earning undue notice from bystanders below if any were up this early. He hoped not. It'd make this go far easier. Whistling low, he alerted the men when he was in position, setting the SRS up against the ledge on the roof.
As they moved, he kept the surroundings in sight. He'd be damned if he was losing anyone today. Spotting movement to the south, he squinted, watching as a child moved into view. Relaxing slightly, he glanced around again before focusing on the kid. He had something in his hands, a small toy, it looked like. Kid was way too focused on the building they were after though. Clarity hit a moment before the boy opened his palm to reveal a garage door opener.
"Shit! Fall back! Get the fuck outta there, now!" The receiver at his ear crackled again, but he wasn't sure if it'd gone through clearly. "God dammit, you assholes. MOVE."
He saw them begin to swarm back to their rendevous point as his world exploded. The building had been wired with shrapnel and explosives. Spotting one of his men go flying, he cursed. No one else had seen it, they were zig-zagging their way into the surrounding neighborhood, taking the heat off of them as a group. Sacrificing themselves, if necessary. Anchoring a rope to one of the ducts, he slung the SRS over his shoulder, rappeling down the side of the building as fast as he could. People were beginning to come out from the homes, seeing what had happened. Motioning to them to get the hell back inside, he skidded to a stop near his soldier.
"C'mon idiot, it ain't your time. Get up." Wrapping an arm around the male's waist, he attempted to keep the man sturdy as he ducked a shot. Sonuvabitch, now they were shooting. "Down!" Dropping to the ground, they inched under the raised foundations to the small houses here. "Any injuries? Fall back, get to the safe point. We'll meet you there. No one gets left behind, that's an order!"
It was an order he'd follow as well. His soldier had gone dead weight, unable to help propel himself forward. Reaching back, he snagged the man's belt in his hand, dragging him through the sand in a slow, agonizing grind. There was no time to check his injuries. At least the sand was still cool, not yet soaking up the rays of the desert sun. It'd serve to soothe any burns. Id' be a bitch for the medic to tend to, though. "You ain't dying on me today, your wife and kid's ain't gonna be blaming me for shit."
Gritting his teeth, he dragged his comrade to the edge of the small settlement, getting to a lower area where he could at least check him over quickly. "Hey. C'mon Parker. You hear me?" Snapping his fingers in front of the man's face, he splashed water over his cheeks from the canteen around his waist. "Welcome back. Let's get some of this shit off you, see what we gotta work with, eh?" Pulling the fatiques from Parker's skin revealed extensive damage. Too much for the medic to handle. Cursing under his breath, he knew Parker wouldn't survive the bleeding. He'd kept his "gift" hidden for a long time. He was a freak, an outcast. This shit didn't make him special, it made him weird. Now though? He didn't have time to worry about being ostracized. There was no way to stop this much bleeding with the sutures in the small first aid pack they all carried. He'd never make it to the medic.
"Look, this shit's gonna hurt. But you have to just grit your damn teeth, yeah?" Closing his eyes, he tapped into the parts of him he hadn't allowed freedom in so long. Heat spiraled through his palms, pulling the broken bits of metal up through muscle and flesh to be discarded to the ground. Once he was sure there was no more metal in Parker's body, he breathed out, heat flaring again in his palm. This time, smoke rose from his flesh as he pressed one hand against Parker's wounds, the un-heated one against his mouth. The scent and sound of flesh sizzling and cooking was something he would never get used to.
Keeping shit steady until he was sure he'd cauterized it well enough to get back to bunker, he knelt, gagging, spitting bile onto the sand. His stomach rolled, but he forced it down. Now wasn't the time for squeamishness about being a goddamned freak. Jerking Parker up, he slung both guns over his own shoulder, letting the male use him for balance. It took longer than it should have, but Parker had gone limp a mile from the base. He'd had to kneel, slinging the male over his shoulders in a fireman's carry to keep his gun arm free. They made it.
Parker had survived. Scarred, but alive. He'd told Parker not to share what happened out there. Shit like that didn't need spread. Once they'd returned from overseas, he'd been called into his superior's office. He'd expected a debriefing, something. Instead, there was an older man sitting in the extra seat, arms crossed over his chest. There, he heard the words that would change his life. "The General would like to speak to you."
As they moved, he kept the surroundings in sight. He'd be damned if he was losing anyone today. Spotting movement to the south, he squinted, watching as a child moved into view. Relaxing slightly, he glanced around again before focusing on the kid. He had something in his hands, a small toy, it looked like. Kid was way too focused on the building they were after though. Clarity hit a moment before the boy opened his palm to reveal a garage door opener.
"Shit! Fall back! Get the fuck outta there, now!" The receiver at his ear crackled again, but he wasn't sure if it'd gone through clearly. "God dammit, you assholes. MOVE."
He saw them begin to swarm back to their rendevous point as his world exploded. The building had been wired with shrapnel and explosives. Spotting one of his men go flying, he cursed. No one else had seen it, they were zig-zagging their way into the surrounding neighborhood, taking the heat off of them as a group. Sacrificing themselves, if necessary. Anchoring a rope to one of the ducts, he slung the SRS over his shoulder, rappeling down the side of the building as fast as he could. People were beginning to come out from the homes, seeing what had happened. Motioning to them to get the hell back inside, he skidded to a stop near his soldier.
"C'mon idiot, it ain't your time. Get up." Wrapping an arm around the male's waist, he attempted to keep the man sturdy as he ducked a shot. Sonuvabitch, now they were shooting. "Down!" Dropping to the ground, they inched under the raised foundations to the small houses here. "Any injuries? Fall back, get to the safe point. We'll meet you there. No one gets left behind, that's an order!"
It was an order he'd follow as well. His soldier had gone dead weight, unable to help propel himself forward. Reaching back, he snagged the man's belt in his hand, dragging him through the sand in a slow, agonizing grind. There was no time to check his injuries. At least the sand was still cool, not yet soaking up the rays of the desert sun. It'd serve to soothe any burns. Id' be a bitch for the medic to tend to, though. "You ain't dying on me today, your wife and kid's ain't gonna be blaming me for shit."
Gritting his teeth, he dragged his comrade to the edge of the small settlement, getting to a lower area where he could at least check him over quickly. "Hey. C'mon Parker. You hear me?" Snapping his fingers in front of the man's face, he splashed water over his cheeks from the canteen around his waist. "Welcome back. Let's get some of this shit off you, see what we gotta work with, eh?" Pulling the fatiques from Parker's skin revealed extensive damage. Too much for the medic to handle. Cursing under his breath, he knew Parker wouldn't survive the bleeding. He'd kept his "gift" hidden for a long time. He was a freak, an outcast. This shit didn't make him special, it made him weird. Now though? He didn't have time to worry about being ostracized. There was no way to stop this much bleeding with the sutures in the small first aid pack they all carried. He'd never make it to the medic.
"Look, this shit's gonna hurt. But you have to just grit your damn teeth, yeah?" Closing his eyes, he tapped into the parts of him he hadn't allowed freedom in so long. Heat spiraled through his palms, pulling the broken bits of metal up through muscle and flesh to be discarded to the ground. Once he was sure there was no more metal in Parker's body, he breathed out, heat flaring again in his palm. This time, smoke rose from his flesh as he pressed one hand against Parker's wounds, the un-heated one against his mouth. The scent and sound of flesh sizzling and cooking was something he would never get used to.
Keeping shit steady until he was sure he'd cauterized it well enough to get back to bunker, he knelt, gagging, spitting bile onto the sand. His stomach rolled, but he forced it down. Now wasn't the time for squeamishness about being a goddamned freak. Jerking Parker up, he slung both guns over his own shoulder, letting the male use him for balance. It took longer than it should have, but Parker had gone limp a mile from the base. He'd had to kneel, slinging the male over his shoulders in a fireman's carry to keep his gun arm free. They made it.
Parker had survived. Scarred, but alive. He'd told Parker not to share what happened out there. Shit like that didn't need spread. Once they'd returned from overseas, he'd been called into his superior's office. He'd expected a debriefing, something. Instead, there was an older man sitting in the extra seat, arms crossed over his chest. There, he heard the words that would change his life. "The General would like to speak to you."