A Ranger on remnant. part 1

"Damn I hate Afghanistan." The six year Operator known as Ryan could hardly contain the chuckle. "Heh, yeah I hear ya rookie." The 'Rookie' had been in the desert for little over a month and... was starting to wonder why He had become a Ranger in the first place. The Rangers were some of the best Special Forces units in the United States Army. And He should be lucky He was here in the first place. But Ryan was different, He loved the desert. It was peaceful, when He wasn't getting shot at by terrorists. But what he especially liked was the fact it was perfect for SNIPERS. His real name was Ryan but all his teammates knew him by his infamous callsign, Viper. They were in the middle east on training exercises with the local Militia's to fight against insurgents that had imbedded themselves in the mountains. Captain Wolfe's Team was there to fix that problem. They were getting ready to go on an operation with two of their Militia counter terrorism team's codenamed Eagle and Phoenix. On the airfield the Teams were loading on to the A-C130 cargo transport when Lt. Johnson came jogging up to the rear of the plane and grabbed Ryan's attention. Lieutenant Makaila Johnson was a brilliant woman with an eye for U.A.V Reconnaissance. And had just graduated Ranger school.

She was twenty years old, about 5'9 and was very attractive. So much so that Ryan had to get on to some of the base personal more than once. Ryan was twenty-two 6'4 and was curious as to what She had on Her mind.

"Yes Lt?"

"I just got off the Reaper Sir and there have been some strange power readings coming from Your Op location Sir."

"Calm down LT, take a breather and tell me what it means."

"Uuuh, sorry Sir. What I mean is that the compound you are about to go to is pulling a lot of juice from their generators."

"Annnd... that means what exactly?"

"Right, umm... they are doing some weird shit."

"Okay so what your saying is that this could mean that they found themselves some new toys and you want to see if it's ours?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't You just say that?"

"Sorry Sir."

"Don't worry about it Makaila, grab Your gear and meet Me by the plane."

"Wait, I get to go with you Guys?"

"If You hurry up."

"Y-Yes Sir! Right away Sir!"

She took off running towards the hanger where She kept all Her gear. Ryan had been meaning to get Her out in the field more often than not; but could never find a relatively easy mission. She had never been in the field except for a standard training exercise with the Marine unit on base, and Ryan figured it was about time for Her to get some experience.

1 Hour and one cleared compound later.

Lieutenant Makaila's heart was still throbbing after what just went down. She was a Soldier but, She had never taken a life before. But when one of the scumbag Terrorists tried to pull a fast one on the captain she remembered what they said in training; "If You're going to shoot someone, aim for center mass at close range." Well she missed center mass, but blew the guy's head off. When She had seen the gore from the decapitated man She felt like She was gonna throw up. The Captain walked over and put His hand on Her shoulder.

"You okay LT?"

"I-I think so Sir."

"It's okay Makaila, take it easy while We clear the next room."

"Y-yes Sir."

As Ryan and the two other Army Rangers checked the room He noticed something blinking on a control panel in the far corner of the room. He walked up to it and started to examine the funny looking light. Then when it started to pulsate He began to get anxious.

"Hey! Lieutenant!"

"Yes Sir?"

"Come here."

"What is it Sir?" She said as She walked into the now cleared room.

"Any idea as to what this is?"

"No... no I don't Sir."

She started to examine the documents next to the station, when the platform they were standing on began to shake.

"Everybody off!" The captain shouted; but it was to late. They felt themselves get sucked into the machine.

Little did anybody know on Earth that Fireteam SENTINEL would never be heard of again and would be presumed K.I.A. for the rest of Their lives.