Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been in and out of the hospital this month. It's been rough, but I'm back now with a new chapter for y'all and that's all that matters! So consider this my Easter present to you!

Enjoy!

Alfred sat in the room surrounded by his fellow Marines and Francis in a small room in the barracks. The lights flickered every so often, but that didn't bother anyone. Their attention was solely focused on Ortiz, who stood at the front of the room. His arms were crossed, and his face solemn. Behind him was a map of where the group's mission was to take place: A small village about an hour's plane ride to the south. The map showed an aerial view of the village itself and of about a mile of the roads and forests that surrounded it in each direction. Alfred and everyone else in the room held a miniature copy of the map in their hands for their own use, folded into squares and small enough to fit into a pocket with ease.

Alfred looked at his watch. It was nearly noon. They had been in this meeting since six this morning, going over and over again where they would drop, when they would drop, going over equipment and supplies, everything. All avenues were now exhausted, and Ortiz now had only one message left for his men. They all listened intently, but everyone in the room knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"Guys," Ortiz sighed, "I've been in countless situations like this, but this never gets easy for me to say, and I never say it lightly because it's the truest thing that I can tell you." The aging Marine slowly pulled a stool from where it sat near the wall and eased himself down into it. The room was silent. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before he continued.

"Every time we step out of these doors, get into a plane, sling a rifle over our shoulders, we run the risk of never returning. But we take that risk anyway, because we know that this is what we are expected to do. It's what we train for. It's what we swore to do when we entered into this brotherhood we call the Marine Corps. We swore to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. We swore to obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed above us. We have done so. We will do so tomorrow. I have faith that you men will do everything that it takes to execute the orders that have been passed down to us. I want us all to board that plane tomorrow morning, and I want us all to make it back in one piece. That may happen, and that may not. Before we go, I want you all to know that…" He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard. "Before we go, I want you all to know that I have never led a better group of Marines."

The words fell heavily on the gathered men, and Alfred realized that he had been picking his nails down to the quick from anticipation, nerves, and concentration. His thumb was bleeding.

Ortiz suddenly slapped his thigh and jumped off of the stool and onto his feet. "Alright, enough lovey dovey crap, you boys get some rest, get your things arranged. Big day tomorrow, you know. You're dismissed."

Ortiz glanced at the map on the wall as he left the room. The door shut loudly behind him and the sound echoed in the small room.

The air was heavy. Everyone knew what Ortiz meant when he said 'get your things arranged'.

He meant that they were to get their belongings arranged in case they were killed in action.

Alfred knew exactly what he had to do.

-x-x-x-

The barracks were silent. Every man was sitting on his bed either checking his gear, securing his belongings, or like Alfred, writing letters.

Alfred had two letters sitting on his lap. He also had a small pile of crumpled up papers on the bed to his left, all drafts that just weren't quite right. Now he thought that he had them right.

One letter was to his parents, the other was to Sarah Jane. Neither letter was to be sent unless he was not to return home. They would accompany his belongings… Along with his casket.

He held up the letter to his parents and read it one last time, just to make sure it was perfect.

Mom and Dad,

If you are reading this, then that means that I won't be coming home. I want you to know that I love you both very much, and that I think of you every day. I wish that I was home with you, but I heard the call of my country, and I had to answer. Please don't blame anyone for what has happened. I consider it an honor to have been able to lay down my life for my country, my brothers in arms, and for you.

I love you both with all my heart. Thank you for raising me and shaping me into the man that I have become.

Your son always,

Alfred

It was the best that he could do. He found it difficult to find the words to say to his parents, what could be his final words to them. He counted the failed tries that he had made to get this final letter. Seven, wasn't it? No, eight. It doesn't matter, he thought. It's not like they're going to read this anyway… His stomach twisted. He wanted to be sick just thinking about it. How could he say goodbye to his parents? Alfred shook his head and sighed. He picked up the letter to Sarah Jane.

My beautiful Sarah Jane,

You are my moon and my stars. I dream of you every night. I dream of our child every night, growing every day. I dream of marrying you, carrying you across the threshold of our home, holding our baby. I've told you before, but I just know deep down that it's a girl. I dream of watching her walk, talk, and of dropping her off at her first day of school. I dream of picking her up after she falls from her bike time and time again, and of kissing her skinned knee to make it better. I dream of taking her to her first school dance, of watching her get ready for her prom, of making her date's knees shake out of fear. I dream of walking her down the aisle in her wedding dress and giving her away to the man that she'll spend the rest of her life with. I dream of doing this together, with you. I dream of growing old with you, spending the rest of my life with you.

Forgive me, Sarah Jane, but now these are all just dreams. This will be the last that you'll hear from me, because I won't be coming home to you. I won't be coming home at all. You're reading this because I've been killed in action, and this letter has been sent because of that. I wanted to be the one to tell you, since the only way you would find out is through the grapevine, and I could never do that to you.

My dearest Sarah Jane, forgive me for leaving you all alone, but you must do one thing for me. You must move on. Our child deserves a father, even if it's not her real one. Give her that for me, please. Teach her what I can't, how to become a woman just like her mother. Strong, loving, and incredible.

I love you with everything that I am.

I will always and forever be yours.

Alfred

By the time he had finished reading over the letter, Alfred's hands were shaking. He had poured his heart out onto the paper but still felt that it was lacking. Both letters were. The letter to his parents was short because he knew that his parents, especially his mother, wouldn't be able to handle anything much longer. Sarah Jane's letter was longer because she wouldn't get anything from anyone. Besides, she was the mother of his child. Deep down, he knew it would be a girl. He just knew! He smiled as he thought about everything that he had written about. Raising his child, being with Sarah Jane.

Alfred kept these thoughts in his mind as he sealed the letters in two small envelopes, then slipped the letter to his parents into a bag of his things. He then addressed the letter to Sarah Jane for him to take down to the 'post office', on orders for them to not send it unless he was labeled as being killed in action.

Alfred prayed that no one would ever have to read these letters.

-x-x-x-

No one had slept that night. None of the Marines in the barrack spoke though. Every man was left to his private thoughts.

It had been the calm before the storm.

Now, the rumbling of the plane's engine as it gained speed down a short runway filled every man's ears in the echoing cargo bay of the plane. Alfred's shoulders were pressed against the shoulders of two of his fellow Marines, and he was facing a row of them. Their knees were all knocking each others' with each bump and jostle. From the little window to his right, Alfred could see into the cockpit. All he could see from his seated position was Francis' head. His long hair fell in a tangled blond waterfall behind his headset, one side of which was pushed back to keep one ear free. Alfred looked back down at his lap. His hands were folded, fingers interlocked. He stared down at his hands and remained silent. No one wanted to talk anyway.

The plane tipped up, and everyone in the cargo bay was jolted toward the back of the plane. Alfred's parachute shifted uncomfortably, and his shoulder slammed into the man to his left's ribs. He tried to voice an apology, but it was lost in the rattle of the engine. After a minute or two of being in the man's armpit, the plane evened out and everyone could sit back up straight again.

Every gust of wind could be felt by the men in the cargo bay as they flew to their target drop site. The same thing was running through each man's mind: The faces of the people they loved most.

The hour came and went faster than Alfred could have realized. Before he knew it, someone stood up to open the door in the rear of the plane that they would all jump out of. "Alright boys, it's go time!" he yelled above the racket of the plane. As everyone jumped to their feet, the Marine at the door gave them a thumbs up and yanked the door open. Cold wind whipped into the cargo bay and screamed loudly in Alfred's ears. He could see that they were flying low, maybe four hundred feet. They were so low, Alfred smiled at being able to see cows grazing contentedly in the fields below, completely unaware of what was about to transpire.

Alfred took a deep breath and patted a hand over his left breast pocket. In it was the photo strip that Sarah Jane had sent to him. It was as close to his heart as he could get it.

He was ready.

Francis signaled the man at the door. They were over the drop zone.

"Go! Go! Go!" he screamed.

Every Marine ran for the door just as they were trained.

Alfred's heart pounded in his ears.

His legs moved automatically.

He reached the door in three strides.

Then he hurtled himself toward the ground.

Cliffhanger... Again...

Thanks for reading! Leave a review if you are so inclined, it would be greatly appreciated. I hope y'all all have a happy Easter!

Love always,

Harley