Thomas "Bell" Jackson, USMC

Six kilometers outside of Da Nang, Vietnam

February 1, 1968

Bell heard muffled shouts echo in his head. He opened his eyes and sees nothing but black. At first he panicked because he thought he'd gone blind, but soon enough a clearer image began to form before him and he saw a ginormous cloud of black smoke. Bell started coughing after breathing in the stuff. His head was all levels of fucked up as his vision kept shifting back and forth between clear and blurry.

Eventually, Bell was able to look past the smoke to see the fire and electrical cables in the interior of the downed Huey. Both pilots were, dead, indicated by their lack of movement.

"Oh, fuck," Bell groaned, putting a hand to his head once he felt the throbbing; he'd lost his helmet in the crash. Summoning what strength he had, he pulled himself up by grabbing onto the firing mechanism of the minigun next to him, its barrels having been shred when the chopper crashed and unable to be used.

Bell looked around for any signs of life, but apart from the dead pilots the chopper looks deserted. He looked to his left, and he let out a noise of fearful surprise when he saw Scarecrow in the seat next to him.

"Baker! Oh fuck!" Bell called out. The kid was dead, his head slumped back and his eyes hanging open. His first engagement, and he was already another casualty of this fucked up war.

Regardless of what he felt at that moment, Bell was in no rush to join Scarecrow. He had to get out of this chopper and find the others.

The muffled shouts he had heard earlier began to become sharper and clearer. He heard gunfire as well. There was some sort of firefight going on, and Bell knew he had to do something. He pulled out his knife and cut the straps that kept him tied down to his seat, then started to crawl out of the chopper. More of the smoke cleared, and Bell could see the scene before him.

At least dozens of NVA soldiers were charging through what looked like a rice patty field. Forming a perimeter around the downed Huey were his fellow Marines, some of his own unit and some of 2nd Platoon. He saw McLaughlin, the SOG guy, taking cover behind a fallen tree trunk and providing fire support with his sniper rifle. Sergeant Cole was yelling at the other Marines to hold fast, and Bell saw that they were greatly outnumbered.

"Badger-Niner Two, calling all Badger-Niner birds!" McLaughlin shouted into his radio, "Our bird's down! Our position's being assaulted by 20+ NVA foot mobiles! Requesting immediate air support and med-evac!"

Nothing but static came from the other end of the line.

"This is Badger-Niner Two..." McLaughlin repeated the request, but static continued from the other end. No one could hear them.

Bell tumbled out of the side of the chopper and landed in the mud on the ground. He had dropped his knife and didn't know where it was now. He had also lost his M16 in the crash and the only weapon he had now was his sidearm.

Bell looked up and saw Parker take three rounds from an AK-47 to the chest.

"Parker!" Bell called out, crawling forward as quickly as he could, "Medic!"

Doc's head turned towards the scene and he rushed over to help pull Parker behind cover.

"Hey, buddy. Look at me, you're gonna be alright..." Doc said, pulling out a syrette of morphine and injecting it into the wounded Marine.

Bell looked away from Parker and Doc to see Parker's M16 on the ground. He placed his hands on it and used it to pull himself on his knees.

"Evans! You keep that left flank locked!" Cole shouted, "Jackson, eyes front! Shoot at anything that moves!"

Bell put the M16 in his grip, placing the muddied stock on his shoulder, and took aim at the NVA soldiers charging at him. Bell didn't know how much ammo he had, so he switched to single-fire mode to conserve ammunition.

He put down an NVA Sergeant with two shots from the front. Meanwhile, more AK-47 fire had cut down two of the Marines from 2nd Platoon, who were dead before they hit the ground. Bell then fired off six shots from his M16, killing two more NVA while wounding a third in the leg as he came crashing down. Bell decided to put him out of his misery and fired two more shots to finish him.

McLaughlin had chambered in another round into the barrel of his rifle, and used it to dispatch of an officer. Probably the leader of this little attack.

"Sarge! Six Charlie coming in from the left!" Evans called out, firing his M16 in automatic bursts to stop the advance.

Bell kept firing forward, but soon enough his weapon clicked, indicating he was out of ammo.

"Reloading, cover me!" Bell said, ejecting the empty magazine and putting in a new one. He pulled the bolt back and the weapon was ready for firing. He killed another NVA soldier within five seconds.

But it seemed no matter how hard they fought, more NVA kept coming and coming and were quickly depleting the Marines. Where the fuck were they coming from?

Bell hadn't emptied half of his magazine when he heard another clicking noise. A jam. Just fucking great. He pulled the bolt back and tried to clear off some of the mud that had accumulated on the rifle, but he couldn't get it to close again.

He looked up for a moment and saw an NVA soldier getting close to their position. Immediately, he dropped the M16 and drew his 1911 from his holster. He fired two slugs at the guy and he dropped his AK-47 at his feet.

"All birds! This is Badger-Niner Two! We are pinned down and surrounded by Charlie! Where's my fucking air support!?" McLaughlin shouted into comms. When no response came, the frustrated McLaughlin looked over to the surviving Marines and said, "Hold this position! Support's coming!"

Bell didn't believe that for a minute. And even if it was coming, by the time they got here they would all be dead.

McLaughlin changed frequencies on his radio and shouted, "This is Badger-Niner Two! Broken Arrow! I repeat, Broken Arrow!"

At the moment he finished giving the order over the radio, a bullet entered into the side of his skull. In another moment, McLaughlin had collapsed to the ground, dead.

"McLaughlin's down!" Bell called over.

"The bastards keep coming!" Cole said, having exhausted all of his rifle ammunition and had resorted to using his pistol. He fired four shots and killed two approaching NVA soldiers, "Jackson, get command on the line! We need air support now!"

Bell rushed over from his position and took cover behind where McLaughlin was. Hastily, he grabbed the radio on his body and spoke into it.

"This is Badger-Niner Two! McLaughlin's dead, we need that goddamn air support! Broken Arrow! Repeat, Broken Arrow!" Bell shouted. He peaked up from behind cover and emptied his pistol into approaching NVA. He ejected the empty magazine, put in a new one, and slid the slide forward.

"RPG on the left!" Evans called out, but in another moment, the RPG fired on his position.

"Evans!" Cole shouted as Evans was ragdolled out of his position. Nearly all the Marines were gone now, including all of the rest of 2nd Platoon.

"Fuck, Parker's dead!" Doc called out. Bell panicked, knowing that all that remained was Cole, Doc, and himself.

"Sarge, we need to pull back!" Bell shouted at Cole.

"There's nowhere to pull back to, Corporal! Keep holding! Grab the enemy's weapon if you have to!" Cole shouted. With that, Bell made a dive for the AK-47 that had landed near him earlier, picked it up, and started firing, killing three more NVA.

A round from an enemy AK had entered through Doc's right arm, causing him to drop his M16 and fall to the ground.

"Doc's been hit!" Cole said, rushing over and pulling him back behind cover. He had no time to tend to his wounds, so he picked up Doc's M16 and fired the weapon at the enemy until it clicked. He drew his 1911 and fired it at the enemy some more.

Bell never felt fear like this before. He was almost certain that he was going to die here to. He fired his AK some more and then dove to the ground for cover.

An NVA soldier started charging hard across the field, with no regard for cover whatsoever. He had a bayonet with a red handle attached to the front of his AK-47, and he was prepared to go hand to hand.

Cole was practically standing in the open now, using his 1911 to hold back the enemy. But when the soldier with the bayonet came charging towards him, his pistol clicked empty. Cole had no time to react before the soldier thrust forward and stabbed him in the gut.

"Sarge!" Bell called out, and the NVA soldier then kicked Cole off of the blade. The Marine Sergeant fell to the ground with a hard thud. Bell's AK had ran dry and was about to pull his own pistol when the soldier took notice of him. He directed his bayonet in Bell's direction and made a thrust in his direction, but Bell was able to evade the blade at just the right moment as it pierced the muddy ground. Bell used this opportunity to get behind the NVA soldier and threw his arm around his neck. He yelled something in Vietnamese, but Bell didn't let up. His left arm was pressing around his enemy's throat with the intent on choking the life out of him.

All at once, a bullet grazed the side of his left arm, causing Bell to drop the NVA soldier as both fell to the ground. Two more NVA had come closer to the downed chopper and had their eyes set on Bell, but Doc managed to pull out his sidearm in spite of his wound and took both down. Bell had no time to say thank you, as he had reached down and grabbed the AK-47 with the bayonet. Before he could, the NVA soldier that had been carrying it rushed forward and tried to seize it from him. A brief struggle ensued between the two as they tried to gain control of the rifle, with each looking into the other's eyes.

Bell could see the fear in his eyes. He wondered if this man could say the same about him.

In another instant, Bell pressed hard, ripping the AK from the soldier's grip. Rather than shoot him, he took the bayonet and thrust hard against him, sending him to the ground. Once he was down, Bell let out all his fury and stabbed the soldier three more times in the chest to ensure he wouldn't get back up.

Something had awakened in Bell this day. Something dark. Something monstrous.

And he needed it if he was to survive.

Bell's eyes darted quickly to the approaching NVA. There had to be a dozen or more out in front of him. And he was the only one still standing.

This time he did not flinch or take cover. He raised his AK and started walking forward.

"Bell, what the fuck are you doing!?" Doc called out, but Bell ignored him. He saw the enemy in front of him now. If he was going to die, he would do it standing up.

As the NVA soldiers drew near, Bell raised the AK and let loose.

Several men fell down at once. They returned fire, but none of their bullets hit Bell. If anyone were watching the scene before them, they would say he had the grace of God on his side.

Bell held firm as each round exited the Soviet rifle. Each one found their target. He did not let up for a single moment.

The AK had emptied, and three more soldiers came charging towards him. Bell, rather than use the AK further for close-quarter combat, chose to detach the bayonet from the front of the rifle, and then dropped the gun on the ground. He drew his pistol again and the three approached him.

Bell raised his pistol, firing two shots. The first missed and the second only grazed the arm of the center soldier. By then, the other two attempted to engage in melee combat. Bell swiftly dodged their blows, then took the bayonet and stabbed the soldier on his left in the back. He pulled his 1911 under the enemy soldier's arm and fired three shots, killing the other man standing. Bell then took the bayonet out of the soldier's back and thrust it into his neck before shooting him once through the head.

Bell heard the sound of a rifle cocking coming from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder to see the remaining NVA soldier attempting to shoot him. Before he could fire his rifle, Bell raised his pistol and fired off his remaining shot, hitting the man center-mass. The NVA soldier had let loose two shots from his AK on reflex before dropping the gun and falling flat on his back.

Bell slowly approached the downed soldier, holstering his sidearm. He walked over to the point where he was looking over the man, and saw that he was now coughing up on his own blood.

The soldier's eyes widened in fear seeing Bell standing above him. He muttered something in Vietnamese, something Bell couldn't understand, probably either a plea for mercy or a prayer of some kind.

Bell couldn't give a fuck.

He took the bayonet in his hand and thrust down upon the NVA soldier through his heart. In a matter of moments, his skin was pale and he stopped breathing. He was dead.

Bell pulled the blade out and observed the area around him. The rice patty field was littered with the carnage of what just happened here. Dozens of Vietnamese bodies lay all around him, some by his hand, others by his fellow Marines who lay dead near the chopper.

Bell looked to the sky. He didn't hear any helicopters or planes above him. That air support didn't come after all.

He had to calm himself down, otherwise he would go insane. He had too much adrenaline coursing through his system. He needed to calm down and figure out a way to get back to his lines.

Before he did that, he made it back over to the chopper. Cole had not survived being bayoneted. In fact, the only survivor of this whole encounter aside from Bell was Doc, and he was wounded.

"Doc, are you okay?" Bell called out upon seeing him.

"Holy shit, Bell," Doc said, "The fuck happened out there?"

Bell didn't answer. He was still trying to comprehend what happened himself, along with what he did.

"You're wounded," Bell said, kneeling down beside his comrade. Quickly he pulled out bandages from Doc's medical kit and tied it just above the spot where he'd been shot in his arm.

"That should stop the bleeding for now," Bell said, "We need to get back to base."

"How the fuck are we gonna do that?" Doc asked, "Does anyone know where we are?"

"I don't know," Bell said, "But we have to keep moving, we can't stay in the open. There might be more Charlie out there between here and Da Nang. Gather up what supplies you can and let's get moving."

Bell started to search around the crash site for anything of use. First he went over to Sergeant Cole's body. This man had been in country since '65, and now he too was another casualty. As were all the men who had died here this day. It didn't matter whether you were a vet like Cole or a rookie like Baker, because in this place death stalks you like a predator in the jungle.

Bell grabbed the Sarge's helmet and placed it upon his head. He then grabbed his dogtags. He then went around the area and took the dog tags off of every Marine around him, both from his own unit and from 2nd Platoon. He even took the tags off McLaughlin, and remembered why they were here.

Perseus.

That name echoed through his mind again. Sims had read it from that dossier from the village they had cleared out. What was he, a Soviet spy or something? And why was he fixated on Da Nang and Firebase Ripcord? Something had to be going on to justify this much death, both from their own forces and from the enemy.

Bell's fear had subsided. It was now replaced by an uncontrollable rage, an insatiable desire for revenge against the one responsible for the deaths of so many. His mind was fixated on Perseus as he scavenged ammunition from the bodies of his fallen brothers in arms.

He would find Adler and Sims. He would make them take him to Perseus. And then he would kill him.

Bell grabbed an M16 and cleaned it off as best as he could. He loaded in a fresh magazine into both his rifle and his pistol. He also sheathed the Soviet bayonet on his person since he couldn't locate his own knife. The bayonet would be just the first of repayments he would take from Charlie and the Soviets, wherever he could find them.

He had finished taking off the tags of every Marine present, even the chopper pilots. He collected them all into a tremendous metal bundle and placed it inside his pack. He would make sure they were all accounted for.

He also grabbed the radio from McLaughlin's body. If there was a chance they could get in contact with the rest of their company or Camp Haskins or anyone else, he had to be sure.

Doc had gotten to his feet and got his gear together. He looked at the carnage in the rice patty field and then said, "Bell, did you do all this?"

"What do you think?" Bell asked. He doesn't know which were his kills or those made by the other Marines. Only thing that mattered was that he was alive and they were all dead.

"We need to move," Bell said, and with that, Bell and Doc took off from the rice patty field and moved into the jungle.