Full Summary: Sergeant Isabella Swan is good at many things; she is a good soldier, strategist, leader and one of the best shooters in the u.s army. These qualities have brought her to where she is today, a staff sergeant at only 26. She is fearless when it comes to dealing with terrorists in the middle east, but when it comes to dealing with her feelings and fears, she tends to run away. She has been running for the past 8 years, when a sudden phone call changes everything. She is coming home.
A/N: okay! So this is the first chapter of my first Fanfic ever! I'm excited! This is going to' be fun, and hopefully you will like it. I don't know how often I will be able to update since I'm in school and all, but I will try my hardest! I have no idea how many chapters it will be in the end, I'm making it up as I go mostly, but I have the beginning figured out at least. It will probably be a long story, I think, well we'll see wont we? It will probably be all in Bella's POV since I don't think I could do a convincing Edward. So wish me good luck and here we go!
Disclaimer: I own nada, Stephanie Meyer owns it all.
Chapter 1:
I'm good at many things. I'm good at thinking on my feet, good at strategizing, good at hand to hand combat, good at shooting. I'm a good soldier, hell I'm a fucking great one. I have made myself a name in the world of the u.s army. Isabella Swan is ruthless, calculating and driven. One of the brightest and fastest rising young soldiers there is today, and not a person to cross.
26 years old and already a staff sergeant, now that Is quite an accomplishment.
So how did I end up in the army you may ask? I ask myself that sometimes too. I grew up in Brooklyn, with a father who worked a lot, a runaway mother, a loving brother and a big yellow Labrador. Not the typical upbringing of a future soldier of the united states army.
But none the less, here I stand - or crouch rather- waiting for the sign to move in. Sitting in the absolute silence that in mere moments will be filled with the sounds of guns firing, grenades exploding and people screaming in pain. I know the outcome, we will be successful. I'm the one who planned and strategized the raid, therefor we can't lose. I never lose, not at this game.
I look up and see Johnson signaling, it's time to move in. And so we move, filling the eerie silence that was only moments ago, with the sound of guns firing, grenades exploding and people screaming. Just as I predicted.
It's simple really, just follow the carefully laid out plan. Execute it perfectly and you will be victorious. I always am.
Get the hostage out, it seems simple doesn't it? Well, it's not. This is actually one of the toughest situations I've ever found myself in. Tough yes, but not impossible. If everyone does what they have been trained to do and sticks to the plan, we should be able to execute it without a hitch.
Follow the plan, get the hostage out.
It's is with this mantra on my mind, that I move through the darkness. I give my subordinate – sergeant Clark - an ok. The space we just moved through is secured, rid of its earlier occupants, terrorists. We move in unison through the house - a very big house that is, almost a small castle or well, fort- over bodies, mostly the enemies bodies.
Death is an occupational hazard, most people know what to expect when they are sent here, to the forefront of the war. Those who don't, well, they are in for a hell of a surprise. This part of the world isn't like the Upper East Side or suburbia, hell it's even a far cry from the bad parts Brooklyn. Here, it's all about life or death, you or them. You never know what to expect, every situation is different, yet so familiar. The places are different, the situations are different, the people are different, but what is always the same is what is at stake. Your life.
Stay alive, no matter what. Here are no rules, no laws, you make your own rules. That, I am good at. I make rules, I strategize, make plans and then execute them. I'm good at staying alive, one of the best.
Therefore it is my responsibility to make sure the others – my platoon- stays alive. I make the rules, the plans and they follow me. Because I'm their best chance at staying alive. I try my hardest to keep them alive, but I can never guarantee their survival.
I'm the boss, the staff sergeant because I'm good at keeping people alive. Whether it's the soldiers or the civilians, or rather the hostages in this case.
We continue to move, it's silent now, our enemies have all been silenced. I take up the front while Thomson and Clark take up the rear. We've made it to the room where the hostages are being held. Inside we expect there to be more warriors, captors.
We wait for back up to come, and they do, all according to the plan.
We rearrange our formation, I'm still at the front flanked by Thomson and Clark. Behind them ten more soldiers take their places while the remaining 23 find their way around the building, splitting up in half to cover the remaining two entrances to the room.
"team B is in position, over" I hear peter's voice over my earpiece. Telling me they are ready for the final phase of the plan.
"team C is in position, over" as I hear the final confirmation that we are ready to move in I tell them –as always- we move on three.
I hold up three fingers, and then count as I fold them down. We have done this countless times before, and we have the routine down to perfection. I count to three and at the same time as I fold down the last finger -having head my order over their earpieces- the two other troop leaders gives the soldiers the sign, it's go time.
Adrenalin is pumping through my veins as we move, making me forget our earlier battles and my fatigue. Due to our impeccable timing, we all burst through the doors at the same time. I can hear my blood pumping, a rushing sound in my ears.
And then we get down to business, we use our training, our experience with situations like these and last but not least, our guns.
Assessing the situation quickly and expertly- as the experts we are- we take the hostage holders down quickly. And once more this evening I hear guns shooting and people screaming in pain. I see one of them turning my way, beginning to raise his half-automatic. Reacting quickly, I raise my gun take aim and fire. Precise, efficient and with no emotions, exactly what I have been trained to do.
We move further into the room, I fire two more shots taking one more down as I make my way forward, soldiers flanking me on both sides. At last i hear no more shots, no more people screaming in pain. Silence, it's over soon, very soon.
As I take a look around, I see a scene much like all the ones before this.
Dead bodies are everywhere, filling the room with the smell of blood, but I can't bring myself care. You can call me heartless, but really, I'm not. There is just no reason for me to feel remorseful, or sad for those dead, they are my enemies, my countries enemies and it is my duty to make sure my country is safe. Safe from people like these, terrorists, scum of the earth.
We usher the hostages out of the room one by one. There are 12 hostages, when they were taken two days ago there were 20 of them. Unlike the dead bodies on the floor, I feel sad for the hostages that died. They were civilians; they did nothing to deserve to die.
We lead the hostages out one by one, two soldiers protecting each of them on the way out to the helicopters. When they are all in safety I, and the remaining 8 soldiers – including Thomson and Clark- sweep through the house one last time, to make sure there are no survivors left behind.
We split up in two groups and make our way through the now dark and very quiet house. So far so good, no signs of movement anywhere. We wind our way out of the house in silence, still on full alert, only our muted footsteps can be heard. We are almost at the door when I see a movement in a dark corner. I don't have time to react before three severely injured men fires their guns at us.
Taking aim and firing as quickly as possible I silence one of them, the rest of my squad takes out the other two. Only moments before the last one slumps to the floor dead, he fires his gun wildly. Shots ring out and the silence is once again disrupted by sound.
We all jump down to take cover from the bullets. Sometimes the best you can do is just duck and pray to god to not get shot.
God was obviously not listening to me as I feel a burning pain in my shoulder. I fall to the ground screaming out in pain. The world spins as the fire in my shoulder intensifies. I hurts, god it hurts. I have gotten my fair share of beatings and broken bones in my life, but this pain has no comparison. I had no idea you could be in this much pain and not self-combust.
The edges around my vision begin to blur and takes on a gray tint. The darkness around the edges is growing rapidly as the fire blazes hotter than ever. With a final cry of pain I feel a pair of cool arms lift me up. Only one thing is on my mind as the darkness takes over and I succumb to the pain.
"this was not part of the plan"
A/N: ok, so there you have it! As of now I am beta-less, if you want to do some beta-ing for me send me a message!