Battlefield Fanfic With A Twist

A Moment to Breath

We are flying along the Atlantic towards a carrier and get clearance to land. Once we have our boots on the deck, we are walking along the ship and heading towards the command deck. The carrier is crowded with soldiers running all about the place constantly. There is rarely a moment one can get to him, or herself.
As we pass the through the corridors we walk past the chow hall several other squads eating and chatting up. Some of the groups are familiar from the mere group size alone. A group calling themselves, RtC is one of them. They are a growing squad, but mainly consisted of five expert gun men. The entire group of about twenty men and women sat around a table chatting. Some spot us walking by and wave us over. I glance at Fox and tell him I’ll be there in a moment. He walks off and I approach the group, nodding to each one of their waves.
One stands up from their table walks over and shakes my hand firmly. He is wearing a short sleeve faded blue shirt with dark jeans to help go with his multicolored headband. His hair was dark and in a pony tail, with length going as far back that the tips are barely touching his neck. His figure was a bit beefy, but he wore himself with confidence, so it never bothered him. A silver band on his left hand reminded me that he has a weak point, but no one would dare go near it. He spoke with a mild mexican accent but had more of Texan tone.
“Yo Seven, where have you been bro,” XRaptor asks with curiosity in his voice. I smirk and give him the only reply I am obligated to give to most people.
“Aw, you know me man always staying busy.”
Seven. A truncated version of my call sign but a signal of my medals I earned in one major firefight. Unfortunately, I was never able to receive these medals because I was already on a plane heading off to gods-know-where doing gods-know-what.
X and his main group consisted of all riflemen. Reckless who got his name for running through a No Man's Land with only a pistol and made it across without a scratch. And boy does he love to brag about that. He is built like an ox and loves working with heavy artillery.
Toxic is next in the group. I feel like he got his name from smoking almost a pack a day and not for what he did to get it. He blew up a chemical warehouse, full of mustard gas, secures the high value target, and makes it back to base. Oh, did I mention he didn’t wear a gas mask? Submachine guns are his specialty.
I don’t know how but Toxic’s little brother, Grimmz, is also apart of their group. Grimmz is the kind of guy who cheats Death more than comedians think of a Donald Trump joke. We ran into each other during a mission and I still can’t believe he is alive. He ran threw a mine field, technically blind. I say technically as in he had so much mud covering his face he couldn't see. Lastly there’s Kryptic, the only female founding member of the group. Her and X are insanely deadly together. They call her Kryptic, kind of short for kryptonite because she’s X’s only weakness. Yep, you guessed Kryptic is XRaptor’s soulmate. These two are more deadly than a real life Mr. And Mrs. Smith. Badder than John Wick on a good day and work like clockwork without having to speak to one another. I chat with the group for a few minutes then excuse myself to rejoin Fox.

The command deck went down to the base of the ship instead of being at the top. Fox was waiting outside the entrance with his arms folded across his chest wearing a blank expression.
“Sorry for the hold up,” I speak looking at the door as I step next to him. He pushes off the wall and shrugs.
“It’s ok it gave me a sec to listen in on what's going on.”
“And,” I question as I raise an eyebrow gazing at him from the corner of my eye.
“Shits hit the fan again and they need a clean up crew.”
Sighing I feel the request seeping through the door already.
“Alright let's get this over with.”
We walk in and notice the layout of the place. Six massive screens surrounding a chair, each displaying a certain leader of some form. Computers lined off along the side walls with workers typing their lives away like there's no tomorrow. In the center was a long desk with maps and specs of all sorts laid out.
A petite skinny woman walks over wearing a black silk dress and 3 inch heels up to us. She wears her hair down, with it partially in her face, letting her curled ends reach down to her neck. The slight splits of dark red in her hair made it shine under certain angles. Angel was a piece of work alright. She was our handler’s assistant.
I was about to open my mouth to greet her when a voice from behind her spoke up.
“Kureiton and Fox so nice of you boys to drop in.”
Angel is looking down at a tablet checking out things when a hand pushes her, by her arm, out of the way.
“Move before I open a window and watch you fly out.”
Our handler was five foot one, dark brown hair, slightly paled skin and with a pear shaped body. This feisty woman wears her hair tied back, regardless of me telling her to keep it down. She wears these glasses with a light blue frame around the lens to try and keep my eye contact, instead of having them oogle over her.
“Hello Mina,” I reply with a smile, knowing I am the only one who can call her that. She’s my better half and she will not take anyones crap, not even mine at times. I picked up a few languages in my mission and Romanian happen to be one of them. Mina means mine, as in mine alone or you are mine and no one else's. I am a bit possessive but I keep it professional from time to time. She was called Boss by everyone else. If either of us heard someone trying to call us by our other names, they wouldn’t be able to speak for awhile.
Her cheeks grew a light shade of red as my words reach her ears. She smacks my chest lightly to remind me that we are at work, I am not really in the mood for subtleties.
“So how are the Ukrainians and Russians? Are they playing nice?” She speaks with a soft tone as Angel shows her an overhead view of the situation.
Fox jumps in to remind us both that we are not alone. “As well as a bag of kittens in a cold bath.”
Angel and Mina both lock eyes on Fox.
“Ukrainians are planning on bringing in more troops,” I place a hand behind my back and stand in a comfortable stance. “Russians have been intercepting their coms and well launch a strike taking out these troops before they rendezvous with the main forces.”
“Probably by heavy artillery, that’s what we are thinking,” Fox adds. “The commanding officer for the Russians however has been changed due to an accident he was in.”
“Accident,” Angel asks raising an eyebrow with a smirk.
“He was shaving and cut his throat. He tried stopping the bleeding but he hit his jugular.” Fox didn’t bat an eye with his response he only shrugs and make it sound deeply convincing.
“Accidents do happen,” I pitch my two cents in.
“So from these event occurring what do you think will happen,” Mina crosses her arms and waits with a smirk on her face.
“With the go ahead order on the attack on the train the Ukrainians will be low in forces and crippled. Also with the Russian commander dead, they will have to appoint a new leader. The next to fall in line is a dead beat. Soldiers despise him, and won't take orders from him. With their low forces Ukrainians will have to result in risky stealth ops. They will be successful due to the massive drop in moral and win their little dispute.”
Angel takes the rest of the information from the op and walks away.
Mina begins walking towards the table and we follow her. She sighs before giving the bad news. “So the president of the U.S. has declared war with the Koreans.”
Fox and I share a look then back at Mina. “Which part,” I question leaning my hands on the edge of the table.
She slides a collection of photos towards us. All of them are of Korean soldiers and innocent families laying all about, dead, in various locations. “Both,” she speaks stern, and once the words hit us we both express our shock.
My head falls as Fox swears low under his breath. We are definitely in for it now.