We all load up into the UH-60 Blackhawk. All of us me, Judd, Caleb, Aiden, etc. The rotors begin to spin. Lift off, we are in the air. They look around at Camp Victory. Hard to believe that just four years ago we were just recruits, now together we have 562 confirmed kills.
"All right boys, you remember what your mission is?" Our copilot asks.
"Go in, beat them shitless, and come back in time for dinner?" Mark replies.
"More or less."
We reach the drop point fifteen minutes later. Mark sees a puff of smoke from an RPG-7. We're knocked off our feet. The helo starts spinning, and they are pulled towards the doors. Mark grabs onto the door handle. Judd starts to get sucked towards the door, and grab his hand just as he falls out. Harold looks at what used to be the tail rotor. "Fuck." We crash. Charles goes unconscious.
Charles wakes up a few minutes later. "Boom!" Caleb sees a technical explode. The ammo from the 50 cal ignites. Harold, who was near it, has a round pierce right through his shoulder. The bullet tears his arm clean off. He is dead before he hits the ground, due to g-force. Charles picks up his M4 and shoots an advancing fighter. The fighter drops dead. Michael sets up his M249, and rains hell on the opposition. "Caleb, call for ba… ah!" Nathan calls out as he is shot through the chest. Michael runs over to him and start dragging him behind the wreckage of the black hawk. He says "Give me some C4, and run. Save yourselves, I'm bleeding out. What are you waiting for?" Charles does as he says. The team hears over the coms "This is Viking 6-8, I'm pretty fucked up. We need evac. This is your favorite fuckboy signing out. HOORAH!" BOOM!