Brothers Of War

Chapter 2: Raptor

2

Raptor

Inside of the super helicopter was a single man. His name was Dave Montgomery. But nobody called him by his real name, everyone knew him as Raptor. Yes, a dinosaur would be his nickname. He never fully understood where the name came from or why it stuck but since his early years in the military he was Raptor. He sat in one of the small uncomfortable seats on the side inside the loading dock and stared at the floor. His M4 carbine sat between his legs.

Raptor was a special operator. A sort of James Bond type job but without all the spy stuff. He was an ordinary soldier who was deployed behind enemy lines and foil enemy plans by himself without the help of a team. Because he was a solo operator, it was easier for him to go undetected. Back at HQ he had received his mission, a simple one, probably the easiest one he had been assigned in months. The small town of Abahd was where the small terrorist organization Al Breshir was located. Confirmation of RPGs were in their armory but the reason he was dispatched is because they also somehow managed to get their hands on a few stinger missile launchers. These missile launchers could lock onto small fast moving aircraft, this was a serious threat for any fighter pilots in the area. Raptor was to go in, find these weapons, and disable them. After he completed his mission the Air Force could regain air superiority. It was for the Air Force Raptor worked for, he always saw the other branches as less significant. It was always the Air Force that not only won wars, but also made war winnable. In other words, the Air Force were the first in and last out.

Raptor wasn't nervous, he never was. He was a skilled sniper, expert at close quarters combat, and didn't need a gun to keep himself alive. In boot camp, he never got along with anybody. Everyone seemed to think he was cocky or stubborn, and he was. Raptor never played well with others, dating back to his childhood he would always lie because he believed that deceit was a powerful weapon. He became good at lying, and was able to make people believe anything because he could make himself believe anything. After boot camp, he was accepted into the United State's Air Force as a dispatch team. When the captain of his first squad asked what he should know about him he told him, “I'm not good at making friends.” After several fights with his fellow squad mates Raptor was thrown out of the squad and placed in a special operators unit. The program recruited people who were good on their own.

Since he was drafted into the program he has enjoyed it. He loved being able to work alone and get things done that helped win wars a lot quicker. A sudden jolt brought him out of a day dream. The osprey had landed and the loading ramp was descended. The heat from the outside hit him like a freshly opened oven. It took him a moment to catch his breath and adjust his eyes. The area was covered in orange, matching the desert style pattern on his clothes. Raptor hopped on the small four wheeler that sat in the back of the loading bay and drove off. When he hit the sand the vehicle stopped for a moment and continued on, spraying sand up above and behind him. Behind him the osprey took off back the way it came. He was now alone, good. The town could be seen in the distance being that the buildings were the only things that surpassed the height of a few inches within miles. He overlooked the objectives in his head one more time. Get the weapons, destroy them, remain undetected, and get out alive.

Raptor didn't get too close to the town with the four wheeler, he parked it by a nearby shrub not far from the outside. Making quick pace towards his objective area, his boots crunched on the hot sand. In his hands was his M4, his finger was on the trigger at all times. Certain maneuvers were necessary, running and laying down, crouching behind foliage, and aiming down his sights for anything that moves. This was all just so that he could reach the town without being seen before the mission had even started. When he reached one of the outside buildings of the town he crept along the wall until he got around the building. After making sure nobody was around the corner he advanced into the town. Every step was a hazard, he had to worry about being seen, running into an enemy, or stepping on an Improvised Explosive Device. His muscles were tense but his breathing was regulated. He had to be sure he kept his breathing under control in order to line up a clear shot.