I had the target in my sights. I could see him clean as a fresh baby's bottom. The shot was lined up perfectly.

And then…

I wasn't exactly certain what all happened. The weapons deal was supposed to go down, but someone else interfered with the transaction. All of a sudden, shots were spraying all over the place and Michael was nowhere to be seen in the smoke.

I panicked.

I couldn't tell who were our men and who were the bad guys. All I could see was smoke and hear bullets ricocheting from steel beams of the warehouse floor. Sparks were everywhere and small fires were breaking out all around. Taylor pulled me up by my collar and screamed at me to lay down cover fire. I switched my rifle to automatic and began spraying blindly into the fray. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could barely catch my breath.

Where was Michael?

Was he hit? Was he out of the kill zone?

Was he dead?

I was running in behind the rest of my squad heading fast to extraction when I heard Phillips, the team's mission coordinator directing us to a narrow exit point from the warehouse. Behind me, I could still hear gunshots and the screams of men falling as they died. A bullet grazed my thigh sending me toppling to the floor. I think I screamed out, but I don't know. With so much noise all around, I don't think anyone would have heard me if I did.

I lay on the ground feeling hot pain searing up my left thigh and rounding about my leg and hip. Blood seeped through the heavy nylon material of my pants. I couldn't tell if my leg was broken, or if the bullet was just seated in the meat. I couldn't feel an exit hole. I was breathing hard and trying to decide whether I should call for help or try to make it on my own. Either way, if I didn't make it, I would either be taken for questioning and tortured or just shot dead on the spot. Section was instructed to leave fallen agents behind to secure their secrecy and involvement. A Cleaner would be sent in to sanitize the area and make certain there was no trace of anything ever happening.

We were trained to withstand various degrees of torture and instructed to never give our real names, the name of our organization, or even our birthday no matter the distress. I had been stretched, beaten, shot with heavy rubber balls, and damn near drowned as part of my Endurance Assessment. I passed them all…

All but electrocution.

I don't care who you are, being electrocuted will make you give up your grandmother if they asked for it. I managed to not reveal any information, but one more shock to the ribs would have made me shit myself. I was grateful when the assessment was over and my scores were tabulated. Madeline concluded that I could be trusted in more high profile missions, even ones that might have me purposefully captured and tortured to buy time and gain intel from targets. I never said Section played fair or even nicely. The ends justified the means. Even if the means involved sacrificing lambs to general wholesale slaughter. For Section to claim to strive to preserve the safety of innocents, it certainly did its fair share of sacrificial offerings to the Gods of War.

I could hear my team advancing further out of the warehouse, leaving me to my fate. I was resigned to what was to come next, making peace within myself and hoping that all that I had done up to that point was enough to atone for the atrocities I committed. I wasn't looking for Heaven, but I hoped that I might not still be awarded Hell.

Just as I was sinking into my depression, strong forceful hands grabbed me from behind and hoisted me up. Pain shot through my leg and around my waist like a fresh bullet making me yowl.

"Get up Vizcano! We gotta move!"

The voice was unmistakable. I knew it was Michael even before I saw his piercing glacial eyes. A flood of emotion washed over me. I could have cried with joy. Instead, I nodded and forced myself to ignore the white-hot agony ripping through both my legs making them almost useless. Michael crushed me to his side, fixing my arm around his neck and wrapping his arm around my waist. He still had on his mask leaving only his eyes to convey his thoughts. I was close enough to hear his comm unit rattling off coordinates and relaying a status report of the team. Michael spoke back, giving his position, alerting that there was an operative down and that he needed another extraction point because the one we were being directed towards was now closed off.

"Won't make it in time," Michael said roughly in response to the Coordinator's suggestion. "The charges are already set. We're gonna need another way out...Thirty seconds...Get Holloway to lay down cover."

From what I could deduce, the team had already made it back to the Convoy without us. Michael was taking a huge risk in calling back out someone to assist with our escape. It was against mission parameters and direct disobedience to what was initially ordered by Command. I started to remind Michael of this, but considering he was breaking the rules to save me, I kept my mouth shut. Behind us, I could hear the beginnings of the first charges setting off followed swiftly by more.

We scrambled to the third extraction point which was nothing more than a hole blown into the side of the building. Rubble and debris made it hard for me to navigate with my disabled leg, but Michael kept me steady by using himself as a crutch. Several more hostiles started firing at us. Michael turned quickly to return fire, leaving me hobbling along until he could return and support me again. I grasped on to his tactical vest like a baby possum to its mother. Support fire kept the hostiles from strafing us, and after a few more agonizing minutes of running/hopping, we made it to the Convoy. Michael turned and sprayed out a shower of bullets, swiping the gun back and forth to ward off anyone trying to snipe us from behind. Taylor grabbed my arm and lifted me into the back of the van. Seconds later, Halloway followed, jumping in after me and nearly falling over my bloodied legs.

"Go!" Michael yelled as he half hung outside the van doors, still firing at hostiles now pouring out of the burning warehouse building.

In the fog of the afternoon, we sped away, disappearing into the desert sands.