Chapter 10

Live and Let Die

Death is simply a means to an end. It is a time when worry and fear subside, giving way to the silence of peace. One ceases to exist as they are eternally separated from the realm of life. Through death, the soul and body are purged from one another, forever.

Nothing highlights the great schism between life and death better than war. War only has two outcomes, victory or defeat. The victorious live and reap the rewards of glory while the defeated either die or contend with shame. This is however, war, on a personal level.

It is easy for those so far removed from the hostilities to fight a war. Rulers only see war as a conflict of interests, while soldiers see it as a fight for survival. Men like Peters however, viewed war as an occupation, a deadly occupation, but an occupation nonetheless. Watching others die didn't faze the experienced marine. He could care less about death, as long as it didn't involve his men.

After witnessing the spectacular demise of the Osean paratroopers, Peters harbored no feelings of sorrow. His hand wasn't responsible for their deaths. And even if it were responsible, Peters would still be able to sleep at night.

Peters tried to ignore the cheers of the Yuktobanian SAM crews. They were almost ecstatic about bringing down the Osean C-17s. But the noise annoyed him because inflicting death upon others was something that he never got excited about. Killing the enemy was an objective, not a sport.

Without being noticed, Peters and his team walked to a waiting Ka-60 Kasatka (Yuke for Killer Whale) helicopter. Its spinning rotor blades created a cyclone of brown dust that reminded some of these commandos of the crash they just witnessed.

"Custodial duty once again, sir." Tomas sighed, strapping himself in the doorway of the transport.

"Following orders as always." Peters replied.

The other marines followed suit and strapped themselves to the helicopter. Peters gave the pilot a nod and the helicopter slowly lifted off towards the crash sites. Once again, he would have to send men to their deaths, men that had been through hell already. Sad that was. But as Peters always said, that wasn't his problem.

--

Heroism exists in many different forms and Athos was beginning to see just how heroic his men were. Athos was surprised at how eager his men were to rescue their fallen comrades. He never expected them to be so quick to risk their lives. For a moment, he felt bad about yelling at them. But after giving it some thought, he realized that his men simply wanted to be like him, selflessly risking their lives for the sake of others.

An order was given to all Osean squads to converge upon the crash site. Athos' squad would be leading the way, meaning they would be the first to make contact with their friends or enemies. Either way, Athos wasn't complaining. He was just here to follow orders.

"Alright gentlemen." Athos said addressing the anxious squad of soldiers. Their young faces suddenly looked like those of weary men. Blank and expressionless, they waited for their commander to continue.

"We're going ahead of everyone else this time. Two Apache gunships are already en route to the crash site to check for survivors. Now, I'm not going to lie to any of you here. There are probably no survivors over there. But I'm guessing that most of you will say that it doesn't hurt to try. So with that said, is there anyone here that refuses to participate?"

"No sir." Everyone replied. Not a hint of hesitation in their voices.

"Let's move out." Athos ordered.

--

With the swiftness of a sparrow, the transport helicopter swooped into position. Standing in the doorway, Peters waited for the sleek aircraft to come to a hover. He looked down to see the grass depress underneath the weight of the spinning rotor blades.

As the helicopter came to a hover, Peters released the ropes.

"GO, GO!" Peters yelled.

Out of the helicopter his men began fast roping to ground below. Once reaching the ground, the marines got down on their stomachs keeping watch for enemy soldiers. Peters was the last man to fast rope to ground. Feeling his feet, safely planted, he proceeded to take a position at the front of his team.

Just as Peters took a look back, the Kasatka was already heading towards Ardovka. Turning around, he saw the wretched sight of airplane wreckage. Smoke and fire surrounded the area. Whoever was left in the airplane obviously hadn't survived.

Surveying the area with a pair of binoculars Peters decided it was okay to move forward. He ordered his men to stand up. Cautiously the marines stood up tucking the rifle butts into the creases of their shoulders. With a slight wave forward, Peters and his men vigilantly proceeded towards the burning grave.

With a lack of emotion the marines briskly walked to their objective. They rapidly moved their G-36s from left to right, looking for any threats that could have hampered their mission. With darkened eyes, the trained killers began their hunt. Like a pack of vicious wolves they began looking for their helpless prey.

Coming upon the tail section of the C-17, Peters ordered his team to hold. Two Apache helicopters were busy scanning the area for any signs of life. All they saw was sections of wings and burning flames. Peeking around the corner, Peters waited for the buzzing metal beasts to disappear. Hiding behind the cover of the tail, Peters watched the two Osean helicopters roar overhead as they headed back to their base. Watching the aircraft fade into the horizon, he decided it was safe to continue.

Peters pointed at Tomas. He held up six fingers and extended his arm to the left. Acknowledging the order Tomas nodded and five men followed him off to the left. Peters then pointed to the remaining soldiers and patted his chest, meaning follow me.

Simultaneously the two columns of marine commandos moved around the crash site. Their pace slowed down a bit, making sure that no one planned on shooting them. As Peters' group converged on a broken wing, two Osean paratroopers stood up to engage them. But Peters quickly aimed in their direction. Squeezing the trigger he loosed two quick bursts into their heads. In seconds the paratroopers collapsed to the ground. The rest of his men were already looking for more paratroopers, but no more appeared. Suddenly, Peters heard a groan come from behind the broken wing. Without thinking he led his group to the noise coming upon three limp bodies. One of the bodies tried to lift a weapon. Peters' men were about to kill the wounded soldier, but Peters had other things in mind.

"Hold your fire." Peters ordered calmly.

Walking up to the wounded soldier, Peters stepped on his right arm. A grunt was forced out of the young man, as one of Peters' men grabbed the M-4 out of the paratrooper's hand.

"Wouldn't try that soldier." Peters advised, lowering his G-36

"You're just as good as dead. So you better start talking."

"Might as well kill me then. I'm not telling you a damn thing." The young man struggled to say.

Peters stepped on the soldier's arm even harder, forcing a yell this time.

"Not going to let you get off that easy." Peters turned to the team's Corpsman, "Patch him up Johansen."

The corpsman moved to address the soldier's wounds. Peters knelt down in front of the saved enemy. Tomas and the other team moved to cover the area surrounding Peters.

"Just so you know." Peters began.

"You're not gonna get rescued."

Still, the wounded soldier said nothing. His eyes started fluttering

"Brave enough to keep your mouth shut I see. Well, we'll take care of that later."

Peters could have beaten the soldier into submission but there was no time for that. The morphine that the corpsman was using had already put the man to sleep. Next time he awoke, the young paratrooper would find himself in a very different place.

"Eversen, grab him and get ready to move out. Sergey, get that Kasatka up on the radio. We got what we came for." Peters ordered.

The marine followed the order and hoisted the limp body over his shoulders.

"Move it!" Peters ordered.

While Peters' men started running back, he remained behind to check for any stragglers. Satisfied with what he saw, he proceeded to join his team. This mission was over.

--

Heroes are always willing to defend the helpless. They selflessly put their lives on the line to ensure the safety of others. A hero never fights for glory, but fights for what is right. Through the darkness of despair, heroes carry the torch of hope. Being the first to volunteer made Athos and his squad a true embodiment of heroes. No one chooses to be a hero. It just sometimes turns out that way.

A tragedy had descended upon the Flamin' Angels. Many of their friends, died without a chance to fight back. Even though the advent of finding survivors was highly unlikely, nobody wanted to be the first to give up. Leaving a comrade behind was out of the question. Athos didn't need to tell that to his men. They already volunteered to look for survivors.

Reluctantly, Athos took his men at face value. Not that he wanted to though. He knew they were soldiers who had obviously weighed the risks of what they were doing. Weighing the risks didn't take too long for them. That was what worried Athos. Any man in combat would take time to make a decision as drastic as the one his men made. He hoped that their bravery didn't rise from ignorance. Because in war, it is a man's ignorance that often proves fatal.

Silently, Athos led the volunteers to the crash site. In the distance they could see the bits and pieces of the destroyed aircraft. Flames and smoke crept up from the epicenter of what looked to be a disgruntled grave sight. Doubts began to surface in the soldiers' heads as to if they would find anyone alive. But they had to continue, because the possibility of leaving just one man behind was a burden that was too heavy to bear.

The smell of burning jet fuel began to enter their lungs, forcing out some cloths. Crackling flames leapt around Athos' cautious squad. What they were seeing was unlike anything they had witnessed before.

Wings, tail sections, and even a wheel were found. They were wrecked in such a way that at first glance it was hard to determine what they were. Athos' men wanted to comment on what they saw, but they believed that their silence was a gesture of respect for the dead.

Athos' squad started searching the broken tail section. Amazed, they could only stare at the totally intact rear stabilizer. None of them could imagine anything surviving that crash, alive or not. But what they saw was just one of those freak miracles people found in war. Inspecting the inside they began looking for bodies, but found none. Content with what he saw, Athos led his squad to other parts of the wreckage.

"DROP YOU'RE WEAPONS OR WE'LL SHOOT!" A voice called out.

Athos raised his rifle towards the group of men, the rest of his squad doing same thing. A shootout was about to occur until Athos realized who they were.

"Lower your weapons, gentlemen. Looks like we've found somebody." Athos said walking towards the men. The rest of his squad began talking to their fellow paratroopers, who were no doubt shaken up, but able to speak nonetheless.

"Are we glad to see someone familiar. Corporal Vinny Copes. Sorry about that." One of the fallen paratroopers said.

"Sergeant George Athos. And don't apologize for what you did. I would have acted the same way in your situation." Athos replied.

"You boys from Lima Company, right?"

"Yes sir." The paratrooper replied as he exchanged a handshake followed by a salute.

"No salutes needed soldier. You boys just went through hell."

"Didn't we?" The young man replied looking around the wreckage.

"Any more survivors?" Athos asked.

The paratrooper hesitated for a second, "No, none that we've encountered." He explained with a sigh.

"If you wanna find the dead, good luck because most of 'em never made it out of the plane."

"You boys must have just made it out of the plane." Athos observed.

"About twenty of us. It was pure hell inside of that plane sir. The pilots announced that a missile was chasing them. Making erratic maneuvers, most of us fell over. But suddenly, the pilot leveled out and the jumpmasters immediately told us to get out while we could. The plane leveled out for a couple of seconds and a few of us got out."

"What happened next?" James asked suddenly joining the conversation.

"That was the sickening part. I wasn't in the air for five seconds before I turned around and saw the missile slam into the plane. About ten guys fell out without a parachute and I could hear some of 'em screaming on the way down. Worst screams I've heard in my whole life." Copes explained.

"You know what happened to the other aircraft?" Andersen asked Copes.

"Yeah, for a like a second. And ironically the ones in the other plane were quite lucky. Looks like the Yukes managed to hit a fuel tank with their missile and the plane turned into a fireball a second later. Craziest piece of shit I've ever seen. Hope I never have to see something like that again."

"The Apaches flew overhead? Right?" Athos asked.

"They did but they missed 'em." Another paratrooper said.

"Missed who?" Athos asked.

"We tried to stop 'em, Sarge." The young soldier lamented.

"But we couldn't."

"Who were they soldier?" Athos asked grabbing the man by the shoulders.

"Calm down Mercetti." Copes said patting the soldier on the back.

"Come with me, Sarge."

Athos followed the young paratrooper to a broken wing, only to be greeted by the sight of two dead bodies.

"Shit!" Athos hissed under his breath.

"Yuke Sixth ID right?"

"No sir. Fifteenth Marines, sir. Commando's. When a couple of us landed on the ground, we immediately converged on the crash site. When we got closer we heard a helicopter arrive, before the Apaches. Sad thing was, the Apaches were leaving just as we made it here, then they appeared."

"The Yuke Fifteenth?" Athos asked.

"Yes sir. We saw two guys trying to defend someone barely alive."

"Those two obviously were shot." Athos observed, seeing the bullet holes in their heads.

"What happened to the guy who was barely alive?"

"They took him, after they shot the other men. We could have saved them earlier, but we saw them, just as the commandos came upon them. I'm just a regular paratrooper and there is no way me and the four of us, could take down twelve of them." Copes explained, pausing for thought, "Any idea why the Yuke Fifteenth Marines were here, sir?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. We were here first but we had no idea the Fifteenth was here. Sure, we encountered patrols from the Yuke Sixth Infantry, but no one else. No telling how long those boys had been watching us." Athos replied.

More Osean soldiers started arriving at the crash site.

"See you brought some company, sir." Copes noticed.

"Yeah, we did. Sorry about your friends Corporal."

"Ain't your fault. At least you didn't leave us behind." Copes said looking at the dead body.

"Well don't put the blame on yourself. Let's get you and your men back to base."

"Sound good sir." Copes managed with a weary smile.

"ANGELS ON ME!" Athos yelled out.

The first blows had been dealt. War was now upon these men and for the first time in a while, Athos was worried. But regardless of how he felt, he was a leader, and a leader had to show his men how to live in the horrible world of combat. He didn't like it, but neither did his men.