A Different War
Chapter 1: Out of the Frying Pan
Nick had always wondered what battle would actually be like. He hadn't pictured it to be like this. Yes, he had imagined the heat, the rush of adrenalin, the crack of enemy bullets whizzing by. But he hadn't imagined the screaming, the cursing and the sound of grown men crying for their mothers as explosions ripped all around them. No, reality was different from his imagination when it came to combat.
"Delta Six Niner, we are in need of immediate support, we have multiple wounded and KIA, how copy, over?" He asked over the radio, to Captain Batchelder, his company's commanding officer. His voice was hoarse from shouting and sweat and dirt covered his face, a mix of terror and anger on his normally unemotional face.
"Delta Six Charlie, we are Oscar Mike to your current position with War Pig, hold current position. ETA fifteen mikes. I say again, hold your position Delta Six Charlie. Out." Was the response over the radio, Batchelder's voice calming Nick down. Fifteen minutes, that's all they had to go and then they would be out of that hellhole.
"Don't worry guys; the cavalry will be here in fifteen minutes. Just hold out till then!" Nick then shouts to his squad, who are busy holding off the seemingly endless horde of insurgents who were out for US Force Recon Marine blood. There are several cheers and sighs of relief from the Marines, all of whom have never experienced combat before this.
An insurgent poped up from cover with an RPG, and Nick raised his M4 to open fire. He flicked the fire selector to semi-automatic, released the safety catch and squeezed the trigger three times. Bang, bang, bang. He saw through his red dot scope that he killed the man, the bullets ripping through his chest. He didn't spare a second to think about it, but instead roared "Yeah, get some, that's why you don't mess with Force Recon ragheads!" James Griffiths, known to his friends as Iggy, chuckled next to him as he fired the M203 under slung grenade launcher that was attached to his M16A4, sending several enemy soldiers flying. He grinned at the explosion, fist pumped the air, and screamed a hu-rah in triumph. Ig always did like explosions.
That's when Iggy got shot in the shoulder. He screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Nick grabbed him by his backpack and dragged him behind cover. He gave him a morphine dose for the pain, causing him to fall silent. Nick then proceeded to wrap a bandage around the wound. He looked to the rest of his squad. The last member left standing apart from him and Ig, Private Ari Batchelder, son of the Captain, had taken a bullet through the chest, and was gasping for air as he choked on his own blood. The bullet must have punctured at least one lung, Nick thought.
He hefted Iggy over his shoulder, whilst firing his M4 one handed, somehow managing to hit another insurgent in the head, killing him instantly. He turned to Ari, who was frantically firing his pistol at the oncoming enemies, trying desperately to survive. The look in his eyes told Nick that he knew what his next move would be.
"I'm sorry." Was all that Nick could manage. He then turned away from Ari, away from his look of utter horror and betrayal, and ran into the narrow alleys and back streets, hoping that at least him and his friend can survive.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in California, Maximum Ride was in a plane, thousands of feet above the ground, waiting to jump out of it. The man sitting next to her looked absolutely petrified; pale, clammy hands and sweat trickling down across his brow clear indicators. Max inwardly rolled her eyes; not being able to tolerate people who clearly weren't up for stuff was one of her bad attributes.
"Don't worry; you'll be fine when we're out there. I know what I'm doing." She said, trying to calm him down. It works, and he relaxes visibly, although his eyes look a bit too low for her liking, causing her to glare at him. "My face isn't there." She said sternly, earning his swift apology and a slight smile. Normally, she might make a lapse of judgement like that slide, but since they would be strapped together for a five-thousand foot drop down to Earth, she couldn't be too careful.
Finally after around a minute of checking equipment and gear, the red light turned on, and they walked to the door. He was breathing heavily, although looked ready to jump now. He was lucky, in a tandem jump, the person on the back, who was Max, does all the work. The front person just enjoys the ride.
The red light changed to green, and they leapt out of the plane. The man whooped with joy, and Max grinned, both getting the incredible adrenalin rush that skydiving provided. The altimeter that Max carried showed their altitude, which was steadily dropping. At one thousand feet, Max opened the parachute, suddenly slowing their fall to a crawl. The man had been screaming the whole time, and now he finally fell silent. Well thank god for that, Max thought.
The landing was a little rougher than usual. But at least there were no injuries, the man pointed out later, a grin on his face as he received the video that was recorded as they fell. Max sighed, slumping in her chair. She hadn't expected running a skydiving company to be as hard as this four years ago. But, they had done well, making a name for themselves in the business, and they got clients from all over America regularly, many of them on their second or third visit. Skydiving was addictive, when you got used to the feeling.
The door opened, and Nudge, Angel, Gaz and Ella walked in. Nudge was Max's co-owner of the company, and had been one of her best friends since middle school. Ella, Max's adoptive sister, Gaz and Angel were all instructors for the company, and were all best friends with Max as well. Angel and Gaz, more commonly known as the Gasman thanks to his near-nuclear farts, were siblings, and you could tell, with their blonde hair and blue eyes. Max had another close friend, James "Iggy" Griffiths, who was serving with the US Marine Force Recon in Iraq. They used to date, but had decided being friends was better, and he eventually found love with Ella.
"Hey, how was your clients today Max?" Ella asked as she walked in. Max shrugged her shoulders, too tired to answer. Gaz chuckled, and asked,
"One of them days huh?" Max simply nodded in agreement, causing them all to laugh.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Max picked it up, and answered with the usual cheery
"Hello, this is Sky Ride industries. This is Max speaking, how may I help?" She heard sobbing on the other line. "Hello, are you all right?" Max asks, drawing in everyones attention in on the conversation.
"Oh god, Max, thank god its you." The voice was her adopted mother, Valencia Martinez. Max frowned, her mother always kept her cool, so what was wrong?
"Mom, are you okay, has someone hurt you?" She asks, getting more worried by the second. Oh god, please don't let him be dead, please don't let him be dead, Max thought.
"It's James." Those two words felt like a hammer blow to Max's stomach. Ella would go nuts. She could barely cope now.
"Mom, what happened? Is Ig allright?" Ella looked shocked, and terrified, slowly sinking into a chair, shaking with silent sobs.
"Max, Iggy is Missing in Action."
Authors Note: Thought I'd leave the first chapter on a cliffhanger. I hope you realise that Nick is Fang; just I choose not to use his nickname when narrating for him. Please review, favourite and follow for more. I hope you enjoyed this and keep checking to see more. Just to let you know, here is a quick glossary of all the terminology I might have used in this chapter just so you understand it, and please remember I am British, so any mistakes I make please correct in a review:
Delta Six Niner, Delta Six Charlie, War Pig: Call signs, or radio names for Batchelder (Jeb's) and Fang's units. This is used on radio to not cause confusion between units. War Pig in the story is the call sign for an M1A1 Abrams tank.
Mikes: Minutes.
How copy: Do you understand.
Over: Means you have finished what you are saying on the radio.
Out: Means you have finished the conversation on the radio.
Force Recon: The deep reconnaissance and direct action Special Forces unit of the USMC. They are total badasses.
M4: A select-fire, gas operated rifle. It is a shorter version of the famous M16, firing the 5.56mm round. It is used by all of America's military forces, and is a popular choice for military and civilian shooters.
RPG: Rocket Proppelled Grenade. Basically a grenade with a big rocket on it, meaning you don't have to throw it.
M16A4: The latest version of the M16, in use since Vietnam. It fires the 5.56mm round, same as the M4. It has recently replaced the M16A2 in the USMC.
M203: A 40mm grenade launcher that can be placed on the bottom of rifles to add a little boom power.
Altimeter: A device used to measure the altitude than something is currently at.
Disclamer: I do not own anything that is under copyright that I mention in this story.