"SOMEONE CALL DOWN AIR SUPPORT!!!" One of his men shouted.
"THEY'RE ON THE WAY!!!" someone else shouted back.
"Shit, Sarge! We might not make it out of this one..argggg"
Jaxson looked to his left, where his friend was, to see a bullet had ripped through his face and another had gone through his throat, killing him almost instantly.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Intelligence has said that it would be easy in and easy out. F**king idiots. Military intelligence was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Now his men were paying the price for that stupidity.
If he made it back, he promised himself that he would choke the ever-loving sh*t out of that asshole that put them in this situation.
Mission was supposed to be to go in and capture the head of the local terrorist cell. A big guy, high up in their hierarchy. A general. No problem. His unit did stuff like this all the time. Dirty little jobs that needed a small, specialized group that moved easily through a town, city, or even a secluded village.
The intel had been completely wrong from the start. There was supposed to be only the target, a few soldiers, no more than ten, a cook and some animals and one vehicle.
It didn't go down that way. This was a small fortress with gun towers for security, thick mud walls, and at least fifty men waiting on them. They had actually known they were coming. This high in the mountains in the Middle East, technology still reigned supreme and they had found a way to locate them. Jaxson wasn't sure how, but the more he thought about, the more certain he was that the little desk jockey CIA analyst that had briefed them was going to die if and when he made it back.
A 12 man unit decimated because of bad intel. He and the corporal on the other side of him were all that was left. Jaxson was fuming! His men! His friends! His responsibility! These men had wives, children, families! It was his job to keep them alive, and he failed.
Overhead, the sound of a helicopter gunship firing on its target. It didn't take long for it to get quiet. The gunship had cleared the area to be able to land.
Since the target and enemies had been killed, Jaxson stood to his full height of 6'5 and took out his combat knife and cut the extra dog tags off of his men. Ten men. Ten friends. Gone. After gathering the dog-tags of his fallen brothers, he began to help load their bodies into the helicopter to take back to the staging area. From there the would be given a hero's send off.
The gunner tried to talk to him on the flight back, but Jaxson just tuned him out and sat in stony silence. Someone grabbed him on the arm and wouldn't let go. Turning, he looked at the corporal that had survived, only to see blood dripping out from under his body armor. looking him the face, he said, "Shit Sarge, I thought it missed me." and fell over with his eyes still open.
Jaxson leaned over and gently closed the corporal's eyes. The last survivor of his unit.
Why?
YOU ARE READING
Saving Her, Saving Him (Sample only, read on Readict)
RomanceHe's a lone survivor, asking himself every day why. She's on the run, hiding from someone. He's broken. Shattered. He keeps to himself. He doesn't deserve to be around people. She was beautiful, inside and out. Her heart was pure, and her mind unco...
