A/N:
A different Emerson
a different story
a storyline that may or might not exist.
(don't confuse this with an actual full chapter, go back one so you don't miss the actual 2-6)
Section 2-6 Omega
Fingers on keys, tapping away at a report, Peters playing with the plastic guitar, a comfortable silence even as Bannon breathed through her mouth, the rumble of her throat making it known she wanted to say something.
"Ever imagine what it would be like to a Marine? MARSOC?" Bannon had asked as her fingertips lost themselves in Khan's fur.
The captain zoned out, eyes furrowed, looking at the floor as his right hand curled around a grip that was not there.
Itami threw a punch at Loke to be let go, and it landed, sending her to the floor as he turned around and tried to put himself in between the machine and the god.
The gunshot to his thigh had made him fall short of everything. "Yeahrg! Fuck-!"
The tanker's M9 and Emerson's USP had been both up, but no one had known who had fired the shot.
It didn't matter at this point as one of the MARSOC Operators walked out without order and dragged Itami's bleeding form away, and he screamed, struggled, and cursed America.
"Elton!" Emerson yelled as the last of his Operator's mags were emptied into the bubbling body to keep her still. "Terminate with extreme prejudice!"
"Everyone back!"
"Get the fuck back! We're hitting her with main gun!"
"Kay?"
Emerson had come out of his momentary trance, nodding, his thumb grazing over the chain of his dog tags before letting some air out of his green undershirt. "Maybe in another world. I like being Army. Nice and simple."