4) American Soldier- Toby Keith
Tex sat, her armored legs stretched out in front of her, cleaning her assault rifle carefully, almost obsessively. It cleared her head as she maintained her weapon meticulously: slowly, she forgot Church, forgot the Director, the Counselor. She forgot York, Wash, she even forgot Omega for a few brief seconds. Her head snapped up, slapping her rifle onto the magnetic plates on her back. She was ready.
All they saw was a blur in the air, like even reality would bend for this demon. Gunshots, the crunching of bones as armored fists hit them, the screams of terror, all echoed around the stone structure as she deactivated her cloaking ability, and removed her helmet with a slight hiss of pain when moving her neck.
Three minutes. Four, tops. That's all it had taken to kill a squad of ten men. She walked over to the scattered array of bodies and stared at their faces. They looked terrified, angry at their inability to win, and overall, defeated. There was no way they could have won. Tex knew this, and from the expressions on their faces, they knew it too. They had inferior weapons, skills, and strategies. No way in Hell.
She didn't even know who they worked for, what they were doing. Command had sent orders, and she had to follow them.
It wasn't an easy life, a pleasant one, or even a joyful one, but it gave her pride, and she knew that if her people were ever threatened, the attackers would stand no chance, and that was good enough for her, to be doing her duty. She put her helmet back on, and ghosted away, with no evidence that she had been there except for the spattered blood and corpses.