“HERE THEY COME!” somebody shouted. Technicals rolled into the open fields, firing their .50 caliber machine guns towards anything they saw. Tracers and rockets were flying all over the place, tearing the skies with streaks of yellowish light. Explosions went off all over the ground inside the base, some of them hitting the Hesco gabions and the perimeter walls. Every time I tried to get a look on the enemy, their rounds went past so close to my head I had to duck. Red was just waiting there, patient. “Wait until the first line opens fire, then we follow,” she instructed. The hisses of near misses disturbed our ears, tearing through the air. I could hear bullets hitting the other side of where I took cover, and it was way more intense than any of our encounters with the enemy before. I went on and checked my new weapon, whether or not it really was locked and loaded. It’s way too late for that, I know. But I just had to. I pressed the button on the grenade launcher to open the tube,

Sergeant Major Wilkins came out of nowhere all of a sudden, with a very visible frown on his forehead. He seemed to have argued with someone—most likely the Major. “Ah, there you are. The Major is looking for you guys. He’s just outside the door,” “Yes, Sergeant Major,” we said almost simultaneously. We went outside and saw Major Metford looking uneasy. I guess he was the one Wilkins had argued with afterall. He took out a cigarette and lit it up before he turned towards the door and saw us. “Michael,” he called out to us, “Gather your team and get over here. We have a situation,” he said, taking a drag of his cigarette after. Red went on towards the guys while I stayed with the Major. They joked around and laughed while resupplying themselves with ammunition. Red decided to resupply too while she’s at it. As they walked towards us, I tried to talk to the Major. “What is it, sir? Are we moving out?” “No. Not us. Just you. You’ll be assisting a platoon I’m sending out,” “Were yo

“Gavin?” I called. “Is that who I think it is? The hell are you doing here?” “I should be the one asking questions, you son of a bitch! The fuck are you on, here? You with the Marines?” I laughed. “Yea, as a matter of fact I am a Civil Guard—or something. Hold on, are you a Marine?” “Nah, man, we’re Irregular Reserve. But we are with the Marines. Got some of my friends here, we got Red, Mark, Ryan, and Kris. How about you—wait a second. Are you with…?” I gestured, seemingly not wanting to say a name. But he got the idea. “Well come with me and see for yourself,” Gavin said. I followed Gavin to the room they had been in. When he opened the door, I couldn’t believe what I saw—or rather, who. She was looking after the wounded guy. It turned out the guy was their close friend, too. I grinned ear to ear before calling out to her. “Quinn Christensen,” I called her name. She then looked at me, wide-eyed. “Mike? MIKE! OH MY GOD, IT IS YOU!” She exclaimed, walking towards me. “I thought

We spent another half hour in that house, unable to move. We don’t actually need a green light to do anything, but I don’t want to risk it. The morale of the guys was low—they were exhausted and scared, especially the highly inexperienced CivDefs. Red entered the room where Ryan and Harrison were resting, holding on to her ear. “Mouse,” she called, signaling to me to come with her. I obliged. “Hey, you two,” Harrison greeted, “Are we cleared to move yet?” “No idea. I tried contacting Seagull One—no answer,” I said. “Should we try and move out? The firefight has died down, I think,” Red added. “Well… since it did, let’s try. But keep an eye out,” Harrison said. “They could still be out there, you know,” I interrupted. They both seemed to agree. We still can’t risk it. At this rate, we’re just dead squad walking. “How about sending a lookout?” Harrison suggested.“I got enemy NVG, I’ll go,” I volunteered“No. I can’t allow it,” Red denied. “Look, I’ll take the radio with me. I’ll

“GET READY!” I shouted. “Q, Bob, be ready to fire your weapon!” I commanded over the rain. I peeked over the fence to make sure the enemy was already in range. A few of the Marines have already started to return fire, but inexperienced as we were, I want to make sure that we don’t just waste ammunition. As I crouched back down, I looked over towards Red’s position to my left. Mark set up his SAW on the low perimeter gabions with the bipod folded while Kris was just on the edge of the fence. He laid himself down prone with his M60 on the bipod. Red was still crouching with her rifle pointed upwards, ready to take aim and fire at any moment. I just remembered a thing—my team didn’t have a machine gun. I saw Ryan and Harrison, with bandages across their shoulders, rushing out of the inner compound towards where we sat. They each brought rifles with them. Bloomberg and Ericsson were close behind them. When I saw them, I signaled for Ryan and Harrison to get to Red’s position. The rest of