“Ok, listen up. There are roughly 20 hostiles in this encampment. Were going to move fast and hard and take them out before they have a chance to react. Ready? Go!”
The next few minutes became a blur of muzzle flashes, blood and explosions. At first we tore through them like a rock through unsuspecting paper. The body count mounted as we moved from section to section gunning down anyone in our way. Winslow stayed behind picking off anyone with his sniper rifle who got close to us. But then half way through them, things took a turn for the worst. One of the terrorists emerged from his tent wielding a rocket propelled grenade and my stomach turned. This was bad.
“RPG!” I yelled out to my men. Me yelling caught the man’s attention and he aimed it straight at me. I thought I was a done for., but Winslow had my back. He managed to take out the RPG before the man had a steady aim on me. Winslow's sniper bullet punctured the man’s jugular and he fell backwards onto the hard ground. As he fell he squeezed the trigger and the rocket shot straight for me. I dove to the side just in time for the rocket to streak straight by where I had been standing only an instant before. I turned my head just in time to see the rocket impact where Winslow had been concealed and firing from. Where he had saved my life from. There was a flash and a bang and I knew Winslow was gone. The death of my best friend sent me into a fit of rage.
“NO!” I screamed and began firing wildly at every terrorist I could see. I became blinded with rage and loss. I had transformed into a one man killing machine. After a few minutes, there was no one left standing but me, including my teammates. I began desperately yelling out for all of them. But I soon realized that I had been the only one to survive the firefight. I couldn’t possibly finish this mission on my own, and I was forced to call in evac. I had failed, not only the mission, but my men as well.
