"We run on three." Simmons suggested.
"Why don't we just run now?"
"Wait wait, on 3 or three and then go?" Grif asked for clarity.
I already knew what I was going to do. When Simmons said one, I was gonna hightail it out of here. I had my priorities straight.
Simmons continued looking forward. "One."
This was of course my cue, and it also seemed Grif had the same idea. He put a thumbs up and we both ran towards the Warthog. Poor Simmons, at least he was a sacrifice for a noble cause. One life in return for 2. That seemed very fair.
While we were running, I noticed Grif was panting like a dog which only showed how unfit we really were, but I noticed that I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Man, how the hell are we a functioning military squad without a medic. I doubt the rookie was a medic either; he seemed a bit dense and Sarge was probably the closest since I'm pretty sure he worked as an animal slaughterer, plus we had that book about cows in the base somewhere.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" Grif said while running.
"Three!" I heard Simmons shout. "Oh, you back-stabbing cock bites!"
Before I could make a comment, a massive shell whizzed pass my face. It was only inches from taking my skull with it. I guess I really was lucky, huh? If I had run probably two steps to the right, I'd have been dead.
However, my mind went blank. I couldn't even speak. The shock was probably settling in.
"Son of a bitch!" I heard Grif Scream.
"Son of a bitch." I heard another voice scream. It wasn't Grif or Simmons, so it had to be a blue who was near us.
"Friedrich wake the fuck up." I felt Grif grab my shoulder pretty roughly, which only brought me back to my senses.
"Sorry! Let's get the fuck out of here. Grif. Don't look back."
"lets not kill the blues. Let's just scare them' We almost died because of that." Grif shouted while panting.
"Don't bitch at me, asshole. You're retarded plan was the reason we ended up in their anyway. 'Hey let's run away from our Jeep and sneak around to the cliffs.' How well did that go?"
"Guys! Your plans both equally sucked and we could've died because of both of them. Let's just be happy we got out of their."
"Um guys, what happened to the jeep?" Donut asked.
The moment he said that, the jeep landed on the roof on the base. One look across the canyon and we could see why.
"Holy crap! What is that thing?" Donut asked.
"It's the tank."
Another shot hit the balcony of the roof, and it was just chaos after that.
The 4 of us split up to the two different stairs of the balcony. I was stuck with Donut, so at least he would not annoy me.
"We are totally screwed." Donut said.
"How'd you figure that one out?" I whispered to him.
For a while we just sat in silence, thanking whatever God for keeping us alive. However, the silence was short-lived. The radio came online, meaning only one thing: Sarge was calling us.
"Blood Gulch Outpost Number One. Come in, Blood Gulch Outpost, come in. Do you read me? This is Sergeant-"His static voice came through. My god, this was the only time I was excited to hear Sarge.
"Oh my god, Sarge, is that you?" Grif asked.
"Roger that, Private. I am currently in-bound to your position from Command." He replied. "I hope things have been okay while I've been away."
"Sir, we are totally fucked, sir. We need you." I shouted into the radio.
"While I cannot share the sentiment of needing you, we are totally fucked. The new rookie arrived, and somehow he managed to infiltrate the blue base, and now we have their flag, the Warthog is damaged, one of their guys is dead, and there's this huge fucking tank about to destroy our base." Grif explained.
"Am I talkin' to the right base?" He said incredulously.
"Sir, we are going to die if you don't come here." Grif shouted back.
"Well then, hold tight, boys. I think I gotta solution to your little "tank" problem." Sarge chuckled through the radio.
What's up with that kinda stuff? We're going to die and people still think they have time for dramatic entrances. Though Sarge has always told us, indirectly, that he has a flair for the dramatics and I couldn't change his personality so it was something I dealt with all the time. This time, however, I had a level of respect for it. Above us right in the sky was a giant Pelican Air drop ship flew over our base leaving a massive shadow.
"Wow, this is so badass. Is military life like this every day?" The rookie asked.
"Donut, today has been a 1 in 100 chance. I can't even remember the last time I did something that was mildly soldierly. Don't count on it happening again." I explained to him.
"That kinda sucks. I wish every day was like this." He sighed.
"Yeah well life isn't a movie. Hey at least we're not risking our lives."
"I guess that's true."
In the background I could the bombs dropping from the Pelican. At least this problem solved.
"You have a lot to learn, Donut. Your life holds meaning more than anyone else's"
"You got your weapon privileges suspended?"
"Yeah which makes no fucking sense. I didn't even shoot a single bullet the entire time." I complained. "Apparently my tactical genius was turned into tactical stupidity when I didn't want to kill the blues, which only means Sarge saw that my tactic had merit but was poorly thought out."
"Well, It's Grif's turn now, so let's hope Sarge docks his rations." Simmons said.
"Yeah, Lopez seemed pretty pissed about it." Donut commented.
"Yeah, let's just hope the blues calm down and lick their wounds for a bit. Should be quiet for a while." Simmons added.
"Nah probably not. We kicked the hornet's nest and now we are actually going to have to fight them." I replied.
AUTHORS NOTE:
Had fun writing this chapter, it's a bit shorter than usual but I have school and whatnot so I'd like to just update it. Any suggestions are welcome, that one review I got really made me happy because it just shows my work is being appreciated. So thanks to that guest for making my day. I am planning on writing longer chapters in the future but this is all I can manage with for now