Wake up. Chest pain.
Eat breakfast. Shortness of breath.
Go to work. Weakness.
Bedtime. Fear of not waking up.
Living with a heart condition was already bad enough. Living with a heart condition and not having the proper funds to cover it was the ab...
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Ashford, South Maddison ||Monday||
From the moment I was old enough to see the world as it was, I promised myself that I would be better than my peers. I wouldn't look past trouble. I step in to help as much as I can. I provide resources and advice to those who need it. I wasn't throwing myself into dangerous situations just to save people, no.
I genuinely adored offering a helping hand, especially to those who couldn't do it themselves. Although they may sound caring and generous, there was always someone or something that wasn't satisfied. I could save a kid from being hit by a car, but their parents will be pissed that I'm touching their kid.
When I got further knowledge of the military and what my Dad did for a living, I knew then that was my future. I listened to my father stories about his missions. I examined the scars he came home with. I admired his ability to not judge others for their situations and provide extensive care to everyone, even the ones who dare say they didn't need it.
The negative opinions never mattered to my Dad. He received disgusted glares when he wore his uniform or a hat to places. His social media was always bombarded with anti-military groups. We moved twice due to our houses being destroyed. Despite us having all of those issues behind his job, I never went back on my word. The military was my future.
I knew what I was getting myself into when I turned eighteen. I went through the entire process with my head held high, my mind on a mission, and my heart in the right place. This was my calling, and yet I found myself feeling regretful because of one mission. I did rescue missions before, but this one was different.
Extremely different.
Loud banging pulled me out of my trance, my attention going to the front of the boardroom. Colonel Ward and Captain Jefferson stood on the opposite side of one another, a white board in between them with pictures and words written out. We were having a briefing regarding this CIA agent rescue and it was more complicated than I thought.
Colonel Ward pointed at the headshot of a white woman and sternly spoke, "This is Agent Morales. She was sent to Yemen to collect foreign intelligence information." He stepped to the side and pointed at some words written beside the picture.
"Her cover was blown and it's said that she was captured on Tuesday by AQAP militants," he said while pointing to another picture of armed masked men.
"As of Sunday afternoon, Agent Morales' team pinned her location in a rough area of Shabwah." He aggressively tapped on a map. "Shabwah is said to be AQAP militants' hotspot, meaning that we'll be walking into their territory. It's said that the group is known for setting up ambushes within the city to capture individuals, and even the residents are sometimes used as bait."
"Which means..." Captain Jefferson chimed in. He seriously spoke, "that we need to remain careful and in the shadows. The second anyone gets wind that we're there then the mission is chopped."
