Ronnie "Sketch" Nguyen is your average Vietnamese American who somehow got stuck with a bunch of rowdy devil dogs. In the middle of all this chaos Ronnie is torn on choosing between life or death, normal or abnormal, savior or killer. Trying to keep...
"Sketch!" a man called out, "Watch where you fucking shoot that thing, fucking liberal!" He shook his head as he tightened his grip on his 50.
"R-right!" A timid voice replied, "S-sorry, Garza!" E-2 Ronnie Nguyen, private first class, stood on the roof of a humvee. Manning the 50 cal gun attached to the vehicle. How the hell did they end up in the fucking marine corps? They never intended on joining the corps, they wanted to be in the army! From the inside of the humvee radio static and garbled voices could be heard.
All Hitman 2 Victors, maintain speed, maintain dispersion, 50 meters.
Ronnie bounced and wobbled about on the roof of the vehicle, they could hear the faint chuckles and sneers of their fellow marines in the vehicle, their cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as they tightened their grip on the 50 cal and lowered their head.
Hitman! This is Hitman 2.1, enemy contact! 4 T55s, one o'clock, 2 kliks, how copy?
"Better hit your target, Sketch!" a man yelled from inside the vehicle, "If not, we're gonna leave ya!" he chuckled. Ronnie cursed under their breath and adjusted their helmet before maneuvering their 50 to the target. The 19 year old sucked in a breath and bit their bottom lip before firing about 5 bullets, 3 missed while 2 hit the preferred target, Ronnie quietly cheered as the sounds of an aircraft hovering above droned over.
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"Wooh!" a marine could be heard yelling, "Get some!" a missile was launched at the targets, leaving a large cloud of dust and smoke in its wake. Ronnie sighed in relief, training was over, they were just getting settled in their calm when one of the humvees careened off from the others.
Hitman 2.1 Bravo, what's your status? Over?!
"He's stopping!"
Bravo 2.1, we got a man down!
"Lilley's hit!"
2.1 Bravo, this is 2.1 Alpha. Interrogative?
Push, push, push! Get out of the kill zone!
All of the humvees sped out of the kill zone, everyone keeping an eye on the still vehicle, once they were all clear they stopped around 2.1 Bravo. Marines hopping out of their vehicles to check on the casualty. A corpsman was called for as everyone scrambled about hysterically, Ronnie tried their best to get to the center of the commotion but they were pushed and shoved left and right like a pinball by other, bigger, marines. In the middle of all this sudden movement from left to right, Ronnie's helmet slid off their head and hit the ground. They stopped briefly to snatch it back up, gripping it tightly and continuing to make their way over to the others.
"Don't waste your morphine doc," Sgt. Espera muttered, "My boy's been smoked." the corpsman just blinked at the sergeant before attending to the wounded in front of him.
