The hot Afghanistan sun burned down on the desert dunes. The wind pulled the grains from their piles and shot them through the air. Savage Squirrel reached around the back of his head and tightened the bandana shielding his mouth from the bullets of sand. He sat cross legged at the peak of a dune, a rifle resting across his lap. His hand ran over the battered wooden furniture of the FAL. Meticulous cleaning had payed off. Even with the sand filled air, it would take some time and use before the rifle would start to malfunction from the harsh weather.

Savage caught a glint of light in his peripherals, limited by the goggles though they were. As he looked up he slowly turned the wheel on the edge of the bulky EVD's strapped to his face. As his vision zoomed in through the device, he focused in on the truck. The emblem on the hood of the main truck of the trio confirmed his target, the yellow circle and arabic type sloppily painted over a USSR logo confirmed them as the Afghani rebel convoy he had been waiting for. Savage pressed his hand against the side of his ear.

"I got 'em. Three vehicles, two jeeps, one of them with a mean .30. One truck. Covered. Should have our man."

"Copy. You have go ahead from K." The voice crackled in his ear. " Watch your fire on the main truck, cloth rarely catches bullets."

"I can't say I know anybody that'd beg to differ. Everything is set up. Better start up the helo now, depending on how this goes I might need a quick evac."

"Planning on getting shot?"

"I set high hopes and low expectations. That way you never lose. Almost here. Can you hold?"

The jeep leading the convoy trundled up to the rock Squirrel had used to mark his IED, a rewired mortar shell he had cobbled together in lieu of some real plastics. He sat up, pulling the detonator from his pocket. The front bumper of the lead car was even with the rock. Squirrel depressed the detonator.

Click.

Click. Click. The lead car rolled by uneventfully, the covered truck right behind it.

Click click click clickclickclick.

Boom. The bomb detonated even with the front wheels of the truck, shoving the truck up and over on to its side. The jeep behind it with the mounted .30 cal skidded to a stop. It took a moment before the lead realized what was happening, and slammed itself around.

Savage Squirrel paused, stood stock still atop the dune. Things were not going as planned. A lone figure atop a dune is an easy thing to spot, thus in moments the dune was smashed apart by the mounted gun. The gunfire snapping by his head yanked Savage out of his daze. Gripping his gun, Savage took a light hop off the peak of the dune and dug his heels in as he slid down the steep slope, leaving a plume of sand behind him along with the bullet hits. He rattled of several shots towards the lead car as its two passengers emerged in confusion before the bullets slammed into the metal.

Coming to the end of the slope, Squirrel's feet collided with the compacted sand of the road, and he channeled the momentum of the slide into a quick roll up to the cloth roof the back of the overturned truck. Squirrel pulled the pin on a smoke grenade and slammed it into the sand. The .30 continued its rapport along with the shouts of the soldiers trying to coordinate among the chaos. The smoke filled the air,so thick that Savage could barely see a few feet in front of him. He pulled a switch on his goggles, swapping to thermal vision. The ground lit up before him, the sun baking heat into it all day. He leaned out to the rear of the truck, towards the jeep with the mounted gun. The outlines of the truck and men became clear, and the barrel of the .30 glowed red hot. As the smoke obscured him, he shouldered his rifle and took a quick shot at the confused gunner, who crumpled to the ground.

Savage whirled around and switched back to normal vision, pulling his knife with his left hand. Slicing through the cloth covering of the truck, he pulled apart the folds, exposing the shaking figured inside. The slight man lay on the now-bottom of the tipped vehicle bed, clutching at his right leg, which was bent at a grotesque angle at the calf. Savage stepped into the bed of the truck. The Soviet divison commander swung his head around to see him, his eyes filled with fear.

"Comdiv, I'm afraid things haven't gone quite as planned, but I assure you everything is under-" A grenade exploded near the front of the truck. Gunfire sliced through the smoke outside. "control. Now its time to get you out of here. Stand back please. Or, well, slide back."

Savage Squirrel pulled what looked like a tube of toothpaste from his bandolier. He applied the thick liquid in a large circle around what used to be the bottom of the truck bed. Then, with a small aerosol can, he sprayed around the paste and stood back as the paste began to glow bright red. The thermite concoction burned quickly through the bottom of the truck. Savage kicked the core of the truck bed out and picked up the Soviet, placing him roughly outside the truck before exiting himself. As the jeeps on opposing sides fired into the dissapating smoke, Squirrel hefted the commander over his shoulder and quickly made his way away from the firefight.

"I got him. Things didn't quite go to plan though..." He said, slowly trailing off.

"Meaning?"

"Nothing, lets just say he's not doing any 500m dashes any time soon. Is evac inbound."

"Its a klick out. Is there any engagements the pilot should be ready for?"

"You wound me. No, the tango's left might have a direction we went, but those jeeps probably can't make it through those dunes." Savage said, looking back over the rough terrain.

As the chopper touched down, it's blades blew the loose sand up and around Savage and the commander. Savage stepped on to the chopper, placing the Soviet on a seat and closed the side door as the helo pulled away. The Comdiv coughed roughly from the sand before looking around in confusion.

"Who are you people?" He said, in a thick Russian accent.

Savage Squirrel pulled his sleeve down, tapping the patch on the shoulder.

"Diamond Dogs. Big Boss would like a word."