The shadow of night held all of Sergeant Doyle's troop on patrol overlooking the city. The men would keep themselves entertained, having made games of "I Spy" and narrating muted conversations in the apartments a nightly occurrence. Naturally, Doyle would be one of the first to initiate such games and was notorious for bringing constant humor to the grim situation. After being in Afghanistan and failing to protect the White House from the virus back in the states, the situation here was far more relaxed. Doyle was more at peace now than he had been in the past several years of his life, for war had stretched far beyond his time with the rage virus.
Those memories were suppressed for Doyle, as they were for many soldiers. The experienced sniper had killed many of the living, as well as the infected. Each face stuck with him and haunted his dreams when he would find sleep during the day. For now, Doyle lead the group of spying snipers in the game of "I Spy". Doyle brought the scope up to his favorite window, one that he hadn't shared with the other men before. There was something about her that captured his interest, in a way that no other woman had done before. She was beautiful, yes, but there was more about her than that. She held an air of innocence and even from his distance, he was entranced by her eyes. He could only imagine the impact they would have on him if she were actually to look directly at him.
Doyle's voice dropped an octave, after clearing his throat. She was sitting there at her desk near the window, with that constant troubled look on her face. It was hopeless to Doyle that he would ever meet her, but sometimes he'd pretend that he did know her just for his own sanity. "I spy dark hair, beautiful big eyes and in desperate need of some Doyle lovin'."
The soldier's laughed along with Doyle at the last part, as one of the other snipers chimed in to answer. "I got it. The gay guy on the fourth floor, West Wing, ten windows in." The laughing grew louder among the men as all scopes except for Doyle's went there.
Doyle kept his eye on the woman. "Not my type, Leon."
"Honestly, Doyle. All of the women here are starting to look good to me. It's been awhile!" Another soldier answered as the men started to agree with him and chime in about their favorite women in the District.
"I got her!" Hughes came through from across the building. "Twenty-fifth floor. She's a Major in the medical unit. Don't know her name, but she is smokin' hot. Nine windows from the East side."
Doyle felt a sense of relief at this news. He had seen her in the Army pants, but couldn't even begin to place what unit she was a part of. After Hughes had won the game, they shifted into another, but Doyle found his focus always going back to the Major's window. Someday maybe, he would know her. It was high hoping, which was dangerous for any soldier these days.
I know this one is a bit short, but I'm just starting this off. Next chapters will be longer if I get enough reviews and followers. Thanks for reading!