Bullets whiz past my head as I dash to you. Damn, you're dead, go fig. I look over the small cover I was using to see them approaching. Damn terrorists, always… Terrorizing people. They were so good at that. And killing SAS operatives. I look to the others, to see two remaining. Wait, one was killed by a bullet passing through their eyebrow. And the other went too, by a grenade landing behind them. I check my ammo. I'm still good. I start to fear for my life. I'm the only one left in a five-man squad sent to get a low-life, yet such heavy resistance? Damn terrorists, damn them and their deviance. I think of what my wife will do, or if I'll ever see my daughter again. Poor child lost its father to damn terrorists. Well, they aren't getting me out that easily. I peek over to have a bullet go by my ear. Thank God. I throw a grenade over the metal container. I hear a scream or two, then a small moment o silence. I peek over to see muzzle blasts come up and they look like dogs from hell.
I chunk another grenade, and its blast is answered by yelps and howls of pain. Good, bastards. Go join your buddies in hell, and you never know, you might see me there shortly. I bring my MP5 to my shoulder, and peek out for a second or two to release a good short burst of rounds your way. You answer back with your own supply of lead. I hear a clunk behind me, and dive over to my right. I get to the other metal container, and the frag explodes. I howl as some shrapnel entering my thigh, and boy, it hurt like hell. I suck it up, and peek over to take another terrorist out. I shoot more bullets and manage to get two headshots, and another incapacitation. I bring my head back as I throw another grenade at you guys. Everything goes silent. No bullets, no explosions, Nothing. I think I'm died now, but I pinch myself to make sure. Nope, I'm alive, damnit, I'm alive. I peek over to see the explosion, and to see the rest of you bastards lose your lives to a small explosive.
I order a medivac, because we've taken casualties, as reinforcements just happens to get behind me, and in front of me. I drop my gun, and one comes up to me.
"Hello, what's your name?" He asked, seeming a little giddy, as he brings a small weapon, a pistol I guess, up to my temple.
"Devon Hilliard, Beta 3 Team. Yours?" I reply, and he gets more excited.
" Jonathan Frederick. Nice to meet you. What you doing, making new friends? If you are, I'm sorry, but these are my friends, so I would normally tell you to back off, but you get the picture." Jonathan said.
"Well, I'm sorry, that it has to end this way." I smirk, formulating a plan in my head.
"Oh yeah, I was hoping we could get well acquainted. We might've become best friends." Jonathan said, and I bring my hands to behind my head. I always thought that it was a good idea for a Plan B.
"Well, we'll be seeing each other again, I mean very soon, if you catch my drift." I manage to get out as I pull my standard issue I-don't-know-what-it's-called-knife from a latch in my helmet, bring it down on his head, killing him. I use him as a shield as I throw another grenade at terrorists from my back, then bringing up my MP5 to bear on those to the way of my initial target. I manage to kill five, and as I turn, I see, almost I slow motion, a bullet coming straight at me. I manage to get off five shots at three terrorists before it enters my skull…
Huh? What do you think? Good? Bad? Anyways, K.I.A. Out.