Neck of the Woods

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The ground feels warm from all the activity going on. Bullet casings lay all over the place with various bodies piling. The dirt was moist from the amount of blood, gasoline, and other liquids about the place. No one was safe in this position of the battlefield.
Well, no one that part maybe a bit of a lie. Somehow i have been laying in the same position without being shot at. I feel like the pile of bodies on top of me and laying around me give me a good bit of cover.
All of the fighting has drifted a few miles out, but you can still hear the gunshots clear as day. A soldier appears from over the hill and is constantly looking back towards the fighting. I flip my scope open on my rifle and line up on the soldier. He began running once he cleared the hill. He thinks he is in the clear.
The sun must be beating down heavy again, because the body on top of me began to bleed out, whatever it had left, down onto my head. The blood trickled down my scalp and began to slither down my face.
My eyes avert from the coward and to the trickle for a moment. Then back to him, as gun fire appears from the top of thr hill. Another soldier, shouting in a thick Russian accent and weilding an Ak-47, began pursuing the coward.
I adjust my sights carefully and lean in to observe, keeping my finger on the trigger. The coward slides behind a tree for cover and is looking around, probably for some form of a solution, to get away. As the soldier throws a few rounds into the tree that the coward is hiding behind the situation is clear. I breath deeply and aim at the cowards face. This would make this all so much easier to take both in one shot. The tree was cracking from the incoming bullet barage. The coward ducks down taking in his last words.
    A second slowly slips by and I pull the trigger. The scilencer at the end of my rifle keeps the noise to a small whisp of air passing by. Both men halt for a moment and look around for a briefly second. The coward peeks from the tree and sees the pursuing soldier fall to the ground.
    This was the more logical approach save one life and maybe it will save yourself later on. I pull the bolt back on my rifle once more to release the casing and load it with a fresh round. I remain calm and still as the coward runs off again, this time not looking back.

8 hours later

   Nightfall has reached its peak so it’s time for me to go. Both sides in the fighting had died down for the day. I rise out of the bodies and begin to make my march up the hill carefully. Once at the top of the hill there lay a massive amount of small lights on each side. Trenches were dug deep from the looks of it. I remove my radio out of my side pocket and dial in a certain frequencies.
     Both sides were giving updates to their home bases on signals relatively close to one another. They must not know what they are doing. I peek to each sight as see a group on the Russian side, from the loks of their attire, are listening in. They are smarter than what their file reads them out to be.
     I walk back down the hill the way I came. I stop by a tree that was riddled with bullet earlier, and break into the trunk. Reaching down I pull out a backpack, one that is the size that carries about two college textbooks. I bullet hole is seen from the front and goes straight through to the back.
     I reach into it and pull out a SAT phone. I smack my teeth at the sight of a bullet smashed into the front of the phone. Damn thing is useless now. I reach into my pack and pull out another one similar to the last one. Thankfully this one is unharmed, and why I always bring a spare.
    I drop the broken phone into the tree then take the rest of my gear with me. I do a quick mile hike to a safe distance then proceed to dial. It rings once then a silence, someone was barely breathing in the back.
“Alpha Chestnut,” I speak softly with a bit of a raspy voice and wait for a response.
“Oscar Mike,” the reply was also low but smoother.
“These guys must be getting tired of this.”
“Not likely Ukranian’s CO was demanding a new shipment of troops out before the end of the week.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain about that Russians have been listening in on their coms.”
I felt the surprise lift on the other end of the phone. “So we pretty much know how this is going to go?”
I smirk at how well the situation is already seen from both of our perspectives. “Yea, so we can pack up and brief Angel and the rest.”
I hear a bit of a commotion from over the hill and glance back. Lights are getting brighter and voices are growing. I go back to the phone quickly and reply. “Parents are up. I’ll meet you at the movies.” Hanging up I pull out a thermite grenade, quickly pull the pin, then drop the phone and a few other nonessentials, from my pockets, into the bag. I bolt into the direction of cover as the voices clear the hill. I pass by the bodies that I was laying under earlier and scoop up my rifle.
I drop to a knee, spin around in a one eighty and sight in a  soldier that’s shouting at the top of the hill. Oh no you don’t. I squeeze the trigger and watch his head fall back. I begin running all over again and don’t stop until the voices are faint. I cross through a light tree line and spot a small village. I glance at my watch, while trying to catch my breath, and notice I have two hours to cover sixteen miles. Oh lovely. My lungs are on fire as is, but who am I to complain. It’s either fighting for air or dodging a bullet in the ass, and option two is not a fun one.
Sneaking through the village I spot the coward soldier holding his family, who are in tears of joy to see him again. Yep, scratch one for good morality. Dawn is slowly approaching over the hill side and I really don’t want to be caught in the daylight. I continue on, taking on the necessary breaks to catch my breath. I arrive to a wide open grassy field, where a small chopper is waiting with a small slim figured character holding a small machine gun.

As I get closer the features become more clearer. Like the dark shades, jeans and hoodie to help aid in infiltrations. His attire fits kind of tight to his body to almost reveal his figure but also hides how he looks over all. A slight scar that goes from his forehead down across his nose and lightly touching his cheek. We don’t talk much on why or how it happened, regardless of how close we are. Fox. He is there when he needs to be and gone before you notice him again.

He is surveying the area as I climb into the pilot’s seat. I start up the engines and he hops into the copilot’s seat. We are quiet until we are a good few minutes away, and sure that we are danger free.

“So what happen to the welcome wagon,” he asks while glancing down at the terrain.

“They got caught in some traffic on the way and said they will be late.”
He face palms and we both chuckle savoring the moment. The rest of the flight was smooth and quiet, we both want to save the speaking for when we got back to the Cradle.

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