1Disclaimer: One, two better not sue!
John gave a heavy sigh, and tried to catch his breath as he watched his wife, Jane, crawl across the small shed to look through a bullet hole which was now serving as a peep hole. She stayed crouched in front of it for a long time, not moving or speaking.
After a tense moment, John broke the silence. "Well?" He asked. "How bad is it?"
She gave him a sad smile. "Piece of cake." She whispered. "Nothing we can't handle, right?"She reached over and brushed his arm. "You're bleeding."
John looked at the wound, and cursed. "If they see this..."
"Here," Jane said, ripping off a piece of her already torn shirt. "Wrap this around it." She handed it to him, and he tried with futile effort to put it on. "Here, let me do it." She tied it on and gave him another grim smile. "Ready?"
"Let's do it, baby." John whispered back. He handed her a gun. "Watch this, it tends to stick. I'll cover the left, you get the right." Jane nodded. "I love you." He said suddenly.
She smiled. "I know." She stood. "Let's go."
With that, she kicked open the shed door and opened a hail of gunfire. John wasn't far behind; he took out a sniper on top of the roof hangings, then another not so far from the fallen body. Jane took out a few to her right, and another one near the shed. She pressed her back to John's, and together they stood like this, firing in all directions. Jane took out another man, who was attempting to charge them, and John turned just in time to cover her left side. What neither of them saw was the man coming from the right. He pulled a knife and stabbed Jane in the side. She screamed in agony, and John turned quickly, and shot the man point blank.
"Jane!" He shouted, suddenly frightened. He looked at her for a moment, watching as she sank to the ground. He gritted his teeth, and continued to fire, hitting some and missing others. "Jane, baby, please, get up!"
"Easy said then done, sweetheart!" Jane replied though gritted teeth, her face contorted in pain.
John sighed, frustrated. He fired a final shot at a man who tried to charge yet again, and took him down. The firing ceased, if only for a moment. John took this opportunity to grab Jane and pull her away. He looped his arms under hers and pulled her back towards the shed. Once inside, he slammed the door, and not a moment too soon; it was again riddled with bullets, and John threw himself on top of his wife in an attempt to protect her.
"Jane?" He whispered breathlessly. His heart was pounding and his ears still rang with the sound of the bullets and explosions. "Jane, baby? Look at me, look at me. You're gonna be okay, alright, you're gonna be just fine."
Jane's breathing was slow and labored, as though it hurt just to be lying there. But she still managed to smile at him. "No, John. Let's not do this, okay? With both know the out come of this story."
John shook his head, still in denial. He looked at her again, tears gathering in his eyes. "I bet that boat is looking real good right now, huh?"
She gave him another labored smile. "There's no place I'd rather be...then right here...with you." She said between labored breaths. "I-I love you, John."
John smiled through his tears, and brushed back a stray hair from her face. "I know, baby. I know." He rocked his slowly back and forth for a moment. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay." He repeated, more for himself then her.
"No, John. I'm not." She let out a shaky breath. "Get em, John." She said slowly. "Get em."
He watched as she closed her eyes slowly, painfully. He pressed her head against his own, and let out a gasp. He looked at his suddenly peaceful face, and began to cry. With sudden determination, he lay her down gently, and stood. He gathered his gun and glared at the door for a moment, gathering himself. He looked back down at his wife.
"I love you, Jane. This one's for you." With that, for the second time that night, the door flew open and he came out in a hail of gunfire. But one man, with two grenades, two pistols, and an AK-47, is no match for twenty men with night vision goggles, and much better weapons. John Smith left the world in the fashion only the men in the movie should. In hail of bloody gunfire.