Benghazi, Libya (The Past)

The sun had set mere moments ago on the horizon of the Mediterranean Sea, casting dusk along the shore and into the desolate, war-torn city of Benghazi, Libya. Broken buildings sat in masses in the city, rife with civil war and recent tensions with the US. Most of the tan structures were bones of a once lively city, and while traffic still moved robustly along the main roads and highways, the off-beaten paths were desolated war zones filled with despair. Al-Qaeda had taken hold, but the recent US intervention had culled much of their activity. So much so that the US forces were about to clear out entirely. This was no longer their war.

Angel lay on his stomach, resting next to Chatterbug, situated in the same position, on top of one of the housing units across from their target. When the last of the sun's light faded into the sea, Angel signaled for the mission to begin. With night vision goggles on, he watched Panther move down the side street near the structure they were focused on, following the strategy he'd laid out in the briefing the day before:

"Panther, you'll be scouting each of the structures surrounding our target to ensure they've been properly warned or evacuated." Angel traced his finger along the map that Tag had provided during their meeting the day before. "Slap GloTape on each as you go."

Panther was quick, concise, and had the perimeter cleared in less than thirty minutes. The good news was that all but two structures had been cleared out in silence during the previous day, thanks to Tag's team. The two, with civilians inside, were told to hold up in their safest rooms.

"She's done." Chatterbug whispered, laying next to Angel on the rooftop, two blocks away from the target. "She's rendezvousing with Shrapnel now."

"Shrapnel." Angel turned the map so it was between them, "I want you to place your specialized F-bombs here." He pointed to an entrance, then to a second spot, and added, "and here. Intel says that most of the terrorists are likely going to be in this room." He pointed to a third spot: "The explosions will split them down two hallways, dividing them for Brute and me."

Panther slipped into the alley where Shrapnel had been tucked away, tapped him on the shoulder, and he nodded. With stealth, Shrapnel maneuvered with Panther on his six to the first of the two doors. There, he pulled two F-Bomb's from his satchel. A home-made personal explosive device of his own design, similar in size to a cherry bomb. Small but very effective, and capable of carrying different yields, depending on his needs. When he'd first introduced them to the team, they asked him why he called them that, and he winked, "Cause every time one goes off, someone screams,'What the fuck?'" He taped one to each door hinge and flicked the armed button on the top. With a nod, he followed Panther around the structure to the other door and repeated the process.

"Distractions set." Chatterbug updated Angel, and he nodded.

"Now, Snapshot." Snapshot walked over to stand by Angel as he repositioned the map yet again. "On the roof, there will be four sentries. Panther will have led Shrapnel under the cover of darkness along the walls, so they will be fine unless one of the sentries decides to go off-path and peek over the side. If that happens, take him out."

His eye focused through the site, Snapshot watched the four sentries moving on the roof, following their footsteps in precise patterns, never deviating. This meant that Panther and Shrapnel were able to maintain stealth throughout the set-up of the decoy explosives. "No deviation," Snapshot whispered through his mic.

"No deviation." Chatterbug repeated this to Angel.

He nodded, satisfied, as he replayed the last bit of planning he'd designed for him and Brute the day before:

"Once the explosives are set, Brute and I will move into this position and radio Chatterbug." He pointed on the map to a spot right across from the main entrance to the target structure. "And she will relay to Snapshot and Shrapnel to start phase two."

With a tap on Chatterbug's shoulder, Angel rolled over twice until he was against the wall, slid to a kneeling position, and picked up a satchel that lay by the door. He slid the roof door open, slipped inside, and looked down the steps at Brute, who had been waiting.

"It's go-time!" Angel moved down the steps quickly, and Brute took up position behind him and followed him out the door of the building, on the opposite side of their target. Angel radioed Chatterbug, "Unless I say otherwise, signal them in forty-five seconds to begin. Brute and I won't give updates, but we'll expect you to pipe through everything from the others."

"Roger." Chatterbug's voice came over the wire and was added. "Go get 'em, Angel!"

With a silent hand gesture to Brute, the two moved along the wall of the structure and took a sharp left down the next road until they were at the corner and could see the main entrance to their target. Angel looked at his watch and counted down. With well-trained senses, Angel heard a quiet grunt from the roof as the first sentry fell from Snapshot's snipe. At this point, Angel switched his night vision goggles to infrared and instructed Brute to do the same. Picking four smoke bombs and two gas masks out of the satchel, he dropped the bag and handed two bombs and a mask to Brute.

The fall caught the attention of the other three, but before they could react, duplicate explosions rocked the building from opposite sides as Shrapnel's F-bombs were detonated. The explosion startled the last three sentries before each one was dropped in succession by a quick, precise snipe from Snapshot. With their masks on, Angel gave the signal, and he and Brute raced across the street. Angel stepped aside while Brute did not stop and he put his full weight into a shoulder strike, breaking the front door off its hinges. Brute purposely fell with the door, and Angel turned from the side and stepped in, tossing his smoke bomb, which hit the ground and went off. Brute tossed his bomb to the left of the first. Angel's infrared goggles picked up two heat signatures, which were slow to lift their weapons, likely surprised, and Angel took each one out with three shots each, ensuring they were eliminated.

"Brute, once we're inside, Panther and Shrapnel will start laying down suppressing fire from the two blown doors, pinning down anyone trying to escape. It's been confirmed that it's all terrorists inside. This is a full sweep mission."

"We haven't done one of those since our first time out," Brute commented with concern. "Why does Tag want this done?"

"It may be the last active cell, and he wants a message sent. I don't blame him. We lost too many innocents in these incursions. Full sweep."

"Full sweep," Brute echoed, orders received.

Brute focused and took out three men who had run down the hallway from their mid-right, and Angel took out others who came down a side hallway as they moved into the structure. The smoke wafted down the hallway with them, blurring their forms for the terrorists, which seemed to come out of the walls in droves. While Brute laid down fire to cover Angel, he flicked the second of his bombs down the hallway towards the back of the structure where their target was being kept. The smoke caused the terrorists to fire blindly, and both Brute and Angel dropped to their bellies and sniped out each man that came through the doors.

In mere moments, no one else appeared, and Angel gave the signal to move covertly down the hall. As they reached each door, Brute peered inside and confirmed there were no other stragglers. Satisfied they'd cleared the structure until the door to the back of the building, Angel broke silence and said, "Chatterbug, report."

"Snapshot says no one ran from the structure. Panther and Shrapnel have the two other exits covered; there is no movement inside."

"Roger. We're at the door to the back room."

"Now." Angel looked at Brute during the briefing the previous day, "When we reach the door, chances are there will be a last grouping of terrorists in the room with the ordinance. Some of it is highly volatile. We'll go in firing high and fast with the last smoke bomb. It's a small room. So the smoke will be thicker. Trust your instincts and fire until I say otherwise. I'll shout a number to indicate what we're up against, and zero once I see the last one fall."

Brute nodded then and nodded now as they leaned against the wall on either side of the door. Angel took the last smoke bomb and prepped it. He nodded to Brute, who spun to face the door and kicked with all his might, breaking the door right off its hinges. Angel twisted his hand to toss the smoke bomb into the room, waited three seconds and then they both followed it in. Angel saw nearly twenty figures, in military fatigues, standing in various spots in the room. He was quick to notice the front six had assault rifles.

"TWENTY!"

Both dropped to their left knees, raised their guns high, and fired non-stop. Angel watched the front six drop fast, none of them having raised their weapons to begin with, nor did any shout screams of orders or cry out in pain as they dropped. A sharp nag hit the back of his mind at this, but the others in the room started moving in a panicked way, as if trying to run and hide rather than fight. The loud snap of rapid gunfire drowned out what was an unnatural silence, and Angel watched each drop in turn until the last figure hit the floor and lay unmoving.

"ZERO!" Angel shouted, and they stopped firing. "No movement. Clear the room until the smoke dissipates. We can check on the ordinance once we're sure everyone's down."

Both men backed out of the room, guns panning the room just in case. Once they were through the door, they closed it and carefully moved down the hallway. As they went, they checked the condition of the bodies of all the men they'd taken out. Soon, they made it to the exit, and with the smoke clearing out, Angel pulled off his gas mask and radioed in, "Positions?"

Chatterbug responded, "Shrapnel and Panther are moving in, clearing the rooms as they go. Snapshot's on his way to me."

"Good. Brute and I need to get some air. Panther and Shrapnel are going slow, and by the time they reach the ordinance room, it should be safe to enter."

"I'll radio when they get there. Shall I call in the trucks?

"Not yet. I want the room secured first."

"Affirmative. Take a break, bro."

"Roger."

Angel smirked. "That went smoother than I'd expected."

"Good to have a radio girl on our team, huh? Rather than keeping tabs with each other in the field,"

Angel nodded as he sat his gun down and leaned against the wall. "I was skeptical I'd be able to keep focus, but she did good."

"That she did," Brute grinned. "She's definitely a Collins." His smile lowered. "Though it was strange in the room, those last terrorists didn't try to defend themselves. I also swear I saw some of their shapes change size."

Brute's comment brought the nag back to Angel's mind. The adrenalin had ebbed, and something had definitely been off. He also recalled seeing a few of the panicking figures seem to shift in height as they fell. Having attributed it to the smoke, he'd adjusted and kept firing. He clicked his radio, "Chatterbug. Team's position?"

"Hold. They're radioing in now." Chatterbug informed him, and there was a short pause before her voice returned, shocked and stunned. "Oh, my God."

"Sis?"

"Get in there. Now!"

Brute looked at Angel, and they bolted back inside. They ran down the hall, hopping over bodies, until they came to the door to the ordinance room. Shrapnel was on his knees, head bowed, and Panther looked enraged. She glared at Angel, "HOW DID TAG NOT KNOW? HOW!?"

Angel swallowed and stepped into the room, and if it had not been for Brute catching him, Angel would have fallen. The twenty terrorists that lay dead among the boxes of weapons and gold bars were children. Children that appeared to be between eight and fifteen years old—fourteen boys and six girls—lay in pools of blood. The six oldest boys had guns zip-tied to their hands, so they could not have dropped them if they'd tried. Angel's mind went blank, and he dead-stared. Brute stepped up to one of the boys to check on him. He turned to Angel in disgust and said, "How the fuck did Tag not know about this? The terrorists had prisoners. Children! We never would have come in like this had we known!"

"He knew." Brute turned abruptly on Angel's words. "He had to," Angel said, pointing to the gold, "and it wasn't the weapons he was after."

"We were set up." Brute glowered and bent to close the eyes of a girl that was strewn over some large bags of grain and other spoils of the war.

"And we can't prove it." Angel stood and walked out of the room, turned to the side, and vomited.

"Why did none of them scream? To warn us?" Brute could be heard asking from inside the room.

"Angel?" Chatterbug's quiet voice came over his headset. "Kevin?"

Brute walked out of the room and, tapping his headset, answered instead, "Get on the horn. Radio command. Tell them the mission's complete."

"Brute!" Panther hissed. "Show some fucking respect."

"I am!" Brute spun on her, "We send the all clear, and we get people in here to take care of the kids! We're not doing any good, just standing here."

"And T-Tag brings in h-his t-trucks for the s-spoils." Shrapnel hiccuped and stuttered. Panther knelt down to pat his back.

"Shrapnel?"

"I-I've n-never seen d-dead kids b-before," Shrapnel cried softly.

With the last bit of bile dripping from his mouth, Angel stood up. "Let them collect their shit. The munitions can't stay here for anyone else to collect, and we can't know if anyone else is involved. However," Angel turned and started towards the exit and growled, "I can go get answers from the source. I have a Colonel to report to."

"Angel!" Brute followed and grabbed his shoulder. "You can't confront him. If you do, without proof, you could be court martialed."

"It won't matter." Angel pulled Brute's hand off his shoulder, "I quit."

Brute, Shrapnel, and Panther stood there in shocked silence as they watched their leader and friend walk away.

"Kevin!" Chatterbug's voice came over the headset.

"Don't bother, sis. I've made up my mind."

"No, it's not that." Her voice was firm: "I'm coming with you. I quit, too."

Angel heard Snapshot—who'd rendezvoused with Cassie—gasp loudly at her declaration, and Angel's lips lifted in a sad smile. It had been fourteen years since he and Cassie had parted ways. Now, they'd leave together.