• First Sergeant Winters readjusted the straps on his parachute a third time, waiting for his arrival at the drop site. “Calm down,” said a booming voice. “We’re going to be there soon.” That was Captain Fritz. At his full height, the burly German stood a full six foot five. He was naturally charismatic, and a machine on the battlefield. He’d gotten Winters and the rest of the unit out of tough scraps many times, even at his own expense.

    “ETA – 2 minutes,” screeched a voice into the back of the plane. “Alright men,” Fritz shouted. “Get ready to head out!”

    It didn’t take long for the plane to reach their intended mark. Private Smith pressed a button near the bay doors and the hatch at the back of the plane opened up wide, and wind swirled in, limiting Winters’ vision. He yanked his goggles over his eyes, and shouldered the parachute.
    “On my mark men,” shouted Fritz, loud enough to be heard over the wind. “We jump!”

    “Three, two, one!” Paratroopers rushed out, flinging themselves off the plane.

    Winters was one of the last to leave. He looked out for a second, hesitating to jump. He’d been in three wars, and done this many times, but he’d never gotten over his fear of heights. “Oh come on,” said Fritz, rolling his eyes.

    Winters felt something grip his shoulder, and tug him out of the plane. He saw Fritz’s face, and then he was falling. His eyes opened wide as he fell towards the Earth, his heart beating apprehensively. All he could see for miles was sand, and a tiny village nearby.

    Nearing the opening height, he yanked the rip-cord on his parachute, and it unfolded in a matter of seconds, filling with wind.

    He slowly descended to the ground, and rolled as his feet hit the Earth. Once he regained his balance, he shrugged off the parachute and lifted his gun. He looked around him and noticed the other men of his unit around him as well.

    Fritz, towering over most of the unit, was easily noticed first. He nodded his head, and the entire unit cocked their weapons, already knowing what to do. The band of soldiers began to march upon the village.

    Once they were roughly one hundred and fifty yards from the village, Fritz lifted his hand, signaling them to stop. He pointed at a group of four men, and waved to the left. He did the same with four men to the right. They were going to flank the village while the main group of six created a distraction.

    Winters was told to go with the group to the right. Team Bravo. “All right,” squelched Winters radio. “Me and Team Alpha are going to make an assault on the front gates, while teams Bravo and Charlie flank the village from the side. From there, they will fight their way to gates, and open them for us on the inside. It’ll be radio silence from here on out men, good luck.”

    “You heard Fritz,” said Winters. “Let’s move out.”

    Winters and his Team maneuvered around the walled city until they saw an opening, a small gate. Only two guards were posted, and they seemed tired. The men trained their weapons on the enemy soldiers. Winters gave the command, “Open fire.”

    The rifles of his allies rang loudly as they fired upon the enemies, quickly cutting the two down. Winters, with his men behind him, advanced on the small gate. “Get some plastic explosives on this, pronto.”

    “On it sir,” replied Private Smith. He wired it around the hinges, and everybody stood back. Smith pressed the button and the door flew off the hinges in a small explosion. “Go, go, go!” shouted Winters. With his command, the four rushed in.

    As soon as they breached the walls, they were met with opposition. Winters felt something whiz past his ear, and he dived for cover behind a nearby truck. He heard the bullets from the enemy weapons ricochet off the pavement and the truck. Winters poked his head from around the corner and pulled the trigger of his gun, letting off small bursts. He wasn’t intending to hit any of the enemy; it was purely distraction while his men picked them out. His own teams’ gun fired off and found their targets.

    “Alright, nice one men. We need to make our way to the gate now.” Team Bravo headed to the gates.

    They weaved their way through the abandoned streets, surprised to not see any of the enemy. “s**t.” Winters gripped his gun. “It’s a trap, get down!” The moment he said this, bullets began to fly all around them. Winters ran behind the corner of a building, ushering his comrades to take cover. “Smith find some cover!”

    Smith turned towards him to run, but too late. A bullet caught Smith in his head, and a spray of crimson blood flew through the air. Smith wobbled on his legs for a moment, as if his body wasn’t aware he was dead. Then he toppled to the ground, as another bullet pierced his chest.

    “Dammit,” said Winters, talking to himself. “Where the hell’s Charlie?” Winters flinched as another bullet whizzed past him. “Open fire!” shouted Winters, and the remaining men blazed their guns, attempting to go out with a fight. The firefight seemed to go on forever, with an endless amount of foes. They streamed out of the building and around street corners, filling the place of those who had fallen to Team Bravo.

    By now, the rest of the unit had died except for Winters and Sergeant Foley. There seemed to be a lull in the fighting. “I think they’ve given up sir,” said Foley.

    “I don’t think so,” said Winters, pointing to a lone insurgent on a rooftop. He carried an RPG-7 on his shoulder, and was aiming it right at the paratroopers. Winters lifted his gun and pulled the trigger, but nothing fired. He was out of ammunition. He heard Foley’s weapon make a familiar clicking noise and realized he was out too.

    Just when Winters thought they were dead, and insurgent crumpled, blood oozing from his body. Winters spun around and saw Lieutenant Niles and his men, walking towards them. “Nice shot Niles!” shouted Winters. “Now come on, we need to open the gates.”

    Winters turned to move out, but Niles jumped in front of him, blocking his way. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

    “What?” asked Winters, confused.

    “I said that won’t be necessary,” said Niles, advancing upon Winters. “Fritz and the rest of Alpha are dead.”

    “Dead, what do you mean dead?”

    “Dead! Perished! Annihilated! Erased! And unless you cooperate, so will you.”

    “Niles, what the hell are you talking about?!”

    The Lieutenant drew his sidearm and trained it on Winters’ head. “I’d rather not kill you, but I will if I have to. Now come with me.”

    It suddenly dawned upon Winters what had just occurred. “Y-you’re with the Lysarians, aren’t you?”

    “Y-yes. I am,” said Niles, mocking Winters. “Now come with me, or suffer the consequences.”

    “No.”

    “Excuse me?”

    “I said no, Niles. You ******** traitor.”

    Niles swung his arm over to Foley, pointing the gun at him. He pulled the trigger and the bullet exploded from the barrel of the gun, and into Foley’s skull. Blood and bits of brain painted Winters and the wall behind him.
    “Now come with me Winters, or suffer the same fate as your comrade.”

    To be Continued.