4 million years later...
Quang Tri Province, South Vietnam.
May 16th, 1968...
A young American soldier crept through the jungle, sweat beading down his camouflage-painted face. The mosquitoes were incessant, his face covered in raised bumps and bloody trails left by their bites and his subsequent slaps.
He had been tasked by General Westmoreland himself with sneaking into an NVA forward operating post and freeing a squad of imprisoned MACVSOG operators whose intel-gathering mission had been revealed to be a trap set by the North Vietnamese. Their last radio communication had been monitored out of this area, so that's where he had been dropped off.
Suddenly, the telltale sound of angry Vietnamese echoed through the jungle. Ears pricking up, the soldier speedily moved forward until reaching the edge of a clearing. Before him was a barbed wire fence, and behind it a large ramshackle structure where the voices were coming from. Luckily, he had come upon an area of the fence that was in the blind spot of the guard towers.
"Okay... okay...", he whispered to himself to calm his nerves. He dug the wire cutters out of his patrol pack and carefully snipped through the fence, laying down the pack in order to slide through. His XM177E2 carbine was hanging at the ready by its sling as he crept underneath the elevated shack. When the Vietnamese voices stopped and the door opened and closed, the young man began prying the nails out of the floorboards from below. After removing enough of the wooden planks to climb up into the shack, he looked in shock to see the four MACVSOG operators tied to the wall, all shirtless and blindfolded and covered in burn scars and deep cuts. He crept over to one and said "Shhhh" before cutting off the blindfold. The man looked up at his fellow American and sighed with relief as the restraints were cut through. He rubbed his sore wrists and stood up. "Thanks", he whispered. The rescuer nodded and freed the other three.
"Alright", he said quietly as he handed each of them an AK-47 from the shed's weapons rack, "I got in here quietly but we're not getting out without a fight. I have a chopper and an airstrike on standby, so we have to hoof it."
"Got it", the MACVSOG leader responded affirmatively, "You're the boss. Name's Flagg."
"Colton", the rescuer responded as they shook hands.
The five Americans froze when the shed's door opened and an NVA soldier stepped inside. He gasped and was about to shout in alarm when Colton drew his .45 and put a single round in the man's chest, blowing him back out the door. There were several shouts of random Vietnamese phrases after that, and Colton looked at Flagg with a cocky smirk. "No point staying in here now." Flagg nodded and the Americans stormed out of the shed, opening fire on their attackers. Colton took out one of the guards in the towers while one of Flagg's men handled another. Flagg shot two NVA soldiers who were charging straight at them, taking their magazine pouches for extra ammo and handing one to another of his men.
The G.I.s managed to clear a path out of the base, running through the gates and legging it at top speed as Colton grabbed his radio. "Eagle 4, the target is clear!!! Lay some hate on those bastards!!!"
"Roger that, Eagles 4 through 6 headed your way."
The telltale whoosh of F4 Phantom engines followed soon after, punctuated by the sound of napalm engulfing the NVA base in fire. The Americans cheered triumphantly as they made it to their chopper, the Huey lifting off and beelining it for friendly territory.