Mission Failed

Six

Master Sergeant and I went way back. We enlisted at the same time, shared a bunk. We trained, and ate with each other. We even moved up the ranks together.

His undying love for his country and his exceptional skills in many fields lead him to the leadership of this team.

He laid at my feet. His body unconscious and limp on the ground. Blood dripped from his mouth as the line of his jaw was visibly crooked. Bruises covered his back and sides.

His heart was still beating. His lungs were still moving. He was alive. They were not.

I turned to the gasps that echoed in the chopper. A crowd had formed at the entrance of the cockpit as fifteen heads peaked in. Within seconds I noticed the strong, repulsive smell in the air.

Blood. The only thought in my mind was  how similar that smell was to blood. I turned back to Shiro. Was it him? His blood wasn't gushing.

Slowly I took a step forward. A jolt struck the plane. Everyone was on the ground. Bodies piled up and pushed each other as they tried to reach their feet. The back of the helicopter was filled with men leaving me the only one in the front.

I pushed off the seat that had caught me rather roughly and swiftly walked to the cockpit. I braced myself for another impact as my feet met the metal ground.

My hand gripped the steel door and pried it the rest of the way open. A creak sounded in the air as the cockpit was revealed. I shook in utter shock as a gasp left my mouth.

Curved lines traced their way down the bark. The serpentine carvings lay deep in the wood. The once deep brown oak was turned to a light beige. A transparent liquid oozed from the cuts.

Thousands of faces littered the tree. Their eyes bulged, blankly looking back at us. Their mouths were morbidly open. Wrinkles gave character to their weathered faces.

Initials. Ten combinations of letters lay on each forehead. They represented those who lost their lives. Those whose bodies were somewhere below the sand or sitting in a vulture's stomach.

The five others stood next to me in a semicircle around the Soultree. One by one our heads bowed. Corporal Evans’ voice rang in the air.

The anthem of our nation flowed through the air. The voice was raspy and deep, but heartful and fierce. Tears flowed from my eyes as images of the fallen soldiers ran through my head. Memories of their happiness, their excitement. I was drowning with sadness.

My heart filled with rage as I thought of the man who caused it.The man man whose name lies invisible on the stone next to the most sacred tree. The man whose dog tags were clipped in half and stupped deep in the sand. The man who is now rotting in hell for what he did.

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I combined two parts and I changed the military lingo to correct terms so if it's confusing go back and re-read the other chapters.