Fallen By: Ronan.C

The pentagon was decimated in the attack.

In the year 2020, a major terrorist attack is going to happen in each essential military intelligence buildings around the world, The Pentagon, The Kremlin, MI6, and many other major countries intelligence building are decimated. Two weeks prior to the attacks, countries are crippled without proper intelligence, and cannot run proper military operations if given the chance. Countries scramble to find the people responsible, which sadly only resulted in blaming other rival countries... Until someone cracked…


I was awoken from my bunk by my bunk mate, Charlie Queen. "Hey! Hey, Tom, wake up! Dude!" I slowly got out of the stiff military bunk and put on my Kevlar lined army pants, and my padded over shirt. "Dude, this is crazy! It's happening everywhere!" Charlie stammered, "Calm down, what happening?" Before he could respond, our commanding officer, Frank Dane, entered our tent, "You two, outside with your gear now!" Shortly after, we exited our tent, the balmy Afghanistan morning weather immediately came upon us like a dog’s hot breath. The sun hadn't come up yet, so we assumed it was about 3:00 in the morning. As we walked towards the 3rd hanger. Mostly awake, I had a bad feeling in my gut that something really bad happened. When we reached the hanger, everybody else was there. Usually it's a happy crowd, but today everyone was dead silent. I directed my attention to Sgt. Dane. He looked at us with a vengeful look, then spoke, "Two hours ago, a terrorist group attacked the intelligence buildings of nearly every countries, The Pentagon, The Kremlin, British intelligence, they're gone." that was like a hammer in the face, everyone was stunned beyond belief. "Those are just three of the major intel spots that were hit in the attack. But recently one of the conspirators had cracked and turned himself in. He cooperated well, but only knew about two of their safe houses. Squads one and three will be investigating the first location, " my squad. “ two and four will be on the second. Get your stuff and wheels up in forty minutes. Good luck, all of you.” As me and Charlie walked off, I really thought a lot about it. A little too much. But to think, three years ago I was deployed here. In just those three years there were more terror attacks than ever before. The one that stood out to me more than any was the assassination attempt of Britain's Prime Minister. Luckily they received an early warning from the U.S. who discovered the plot just recently, so they were able to safely rush him off to a safe house. I'm only 28, but I already feel like a battle hardened vet. It was about two hours until wheels up. Hopefully this op goes good. Hopefully…

We exited our tents to the Balmy Afghanstian morning,


Aboard the chopper en route to the drop point, everyone looked stressed. Well, we're being sent to investigate a suspected terrorist hideout, so I can see why. But of all the ops I've run, this one didn't feel right. I looked to my right to see if Charlie was doing ok. He looked more stressed than anyone aboard. I always keep a small sidearm in my back pocket in case of emergency, I silently took it out and placed it in his back pocket. I just hope he won't need to use it. But you can never be too safe.


We were closing in on the drop point. I double checked my gear, counted my ammo, and prepared for the drop. Suddenly, without warning, the cockpit of the chopper exploded into a ball of white and orange flame, which completely decimated the front of the helicopter. The impact caused the chopper to spin around wildly like a spinning top. I clung for my life to what remained of my safety harness. Around me my squad mates who survived the impact hung on for life to anything, which would cost many of them their lives. Charlie, was unconscious, but his harness shockingly remained intact and strapped onto his body. It seemed like we were falling into an endless vortex. Everything around me was going dark. Then I blacked out.

The Choper is hit by a missile.


I awoke to the sound of a burning fire. Not a man made fire, but a fire caused by men. I opened my eyes, but everything was foggy. When my vision finally cleared, I stood up slowly. I had no idea where I was. I reached for the front pocket of my vest to find a map, but instead I found a chunk of shrapnel in my left abdomen that must have been jammed in when we crashed. I was about to pull it out when I saw bright lights coming up from my left. It must be the people who shot down our chopper, looking for survivors. I quickly tore the shrapnel out which was extremely painful. If I wanted to stay alive, I needed to find a weapon. I made a makeshift bandage for the wound in my side out of the sleeves of my shirt. Then I made a move for the chopper. I looked to see how far away my enemy was. It was far enough, I bolted for the burning chopper. It took a lot of strength in me to go the speed I went. I slid towards the chopper, and frantically searched for a weapon or something that could by me some time. Most of the fire had died out, so I carefully rummaged through the carcass of the helicopter. My luck held out, but only for a sidearm and grenade. I carefully made my way out, and peeked out the corner to see if the terrorists had arrived yet. The first truck had just pulled up, five men exited the small Ford pickup which had been modified with a machine gun on top. I heard the men speak in what sounded to be Arabic. I don't know Arabic, but I could tell that they were being given orders. I had to make a move, and quick. Then I turned to the helicopter carcass, I had a plan.

Listening in on the enemy's conversation.


I made my way slowly and quietly around the chopper, and waited for the first man to round the corner. But instead, I was hit in the back by a man who had went behind me. I turned around, using the force of the impact to repel me towards the man. He dropped his American made Springfield rifle on impact. I tackled him like a linebacker to a quarterback. I drove my fist powerfully into his face, knocking him out cold. I heard footsteps from where he came from, I quickly grabbed his rifle and dragged his body towards the empty helicopter frame and tossed him aside where he couldn't be seen. I exited the helicopter. This time I followed the terrorist up until he turned a corner. I saw in the corner of my eye the Ford pickup they arrived in, with the lights on, and engine running. This was my chance, I crept towards the pickup, until a voice made me jump out of my skin. The man screamed, and out of fear, fired his assault rifle at anything. I ran to the passenger side of the truck and ducked for cover. The loud bursts from the semi-automatic rifle hit and shook the car causing me to fall over. I hear three more men rush from behind him and join in on the firing. The car shook again, and knocked me over, but something green and circular rolled out of my pocket, the grenade. I check under the car to see how far I'd have to throw the ‘nade, they were far enough, so I pulled the pin and chucked it as close to the middle,of where the men were standing. Prior to throwing the grenade, I scrambled towards the passenger door of the ford, whipped it open and got in. I slid over to the driver's seat, and sped off, right before the explosion happened.

Under fire.


The interior of the Ford smelled like a high school football team locker room. But I didn't care because I was driving so fast that the smell flew to the back of the car. I had no clue where to go, no sense of what direction I'm going in, and where on earth I am! I panicked so munched that I stopped the car. I needed to find something that might clue me in to the right direction or at least what part of Afghanistan I'm in. I opened the door and walked around to the passenger side. I opened the door and popped the glove box open. For about five to ten minutes I rummage through the piles of junk amidst the box until I felt a piece of paper that was connected to more papers. Quickly I yanked it out of the box, and yet again, my luck held out. A map. This was going to help me. I opened it up, and three sticky notes fell out. I picked them up and read them. On read “Home base 93°N 42°W” that had to be where the hideout was. I searched of the map for 93N 42W. And I found a small opening covered by a small forest of trees. That's where I needed to go.

The sticky note.


The sun had just risen over the horizon when I arrived close to the location. I stopped the car near a big rock that was large enough to store the truck without it being spotted. I grabbed the rifle I got when I knocked out the guard back at the chopper, took an ammo count, and then set off. The trees provided excellent cover for both me, and the guards who obviously were guarding someone or something. After taking a breather at a large tree trunk, I spotted a dried up riverbank which would provide good stealth for me. I checked around to see if any guards were close, then took off for the bank. I saw out of the corner of my eye a man in a black shirt, with a gun, I dove into the empty riverbank with a soft “thunk”. The guard must've heard it and came over. I needed to find a hiding spot, my eyes raced around looking for a spot that'd hide me. I found a large downed trunk that was almost like a bridge. I ran and hid there just in time for when the guard arrived. He threw a rock at the empty river, which scared off some birds, he shrugged, and went back.

Close encounter with the enemy.


By the late afternoon, I had successfully snuck past all the guards that were in my way. I was hiding under a truck similar to the one I had stolen. A car pulled up to the small pebble path. It was a black Chevy Silverado. A man with a sport coat and multiple guards exited the vehicle with him. They entered the small building that was obviously a hideout. I looked around, there were no guards in sight except two who guarded the entrance. I crawled up from the truck and hid up against the large car. I readied my rifle, and knife. Slowly I crept towards the guards. They were armed with American M4 carbines, only used for military purposes. I needed a distraction. I ejected my clip and took out a bullet, carefully I tossed the bullet towards the side of the complex. Which gained the attention of one of the guards. He walked over to the bullet, no was the time to strike. I sprinted toward the guard who stayed by the door and smacked him with the butt of my gun. The loud smack averted the attention of the other guard, he ran towards me with his weapon raised. Quickly I took out my combat knife and hurled it at his hand, which cut it enough that he dropped his gun, allowing me the time to charge at him and whack him with the gun butt. I opened the door to the building quietly and left it open. I made my way towards what seemed like a cellar door. I carefully opened the door and stepped down the short stairwell to a dimly illuminated storm cellar. There were voices coming from around the corner. I raised my rifle and charged in.

I hurled the knife at the guard.


What I saw next was so shocking, I'm still having lots of trouble comprehending. But there were two people visible, sitting at a metallic like table. The first person I recognized immediately was The President of the United States! At the left side of the table sat a man clothed in padded black body armor and a red motorcyclist helmet that'd been painted to look like that green face with the red teeth that soldiers paint on the fronts of Apache attack choppers. The concealed man stood up right when he saw me and reached to draw his weapon. I took a quick aim and fired a shot at his hand. It was a poor shot, but it grazed his sidearm enough to disable it from firing. The man did a backflip and landed behind the metal table. He flipped over, providing him cover if I were to fire again. I heard loud footsteps coming from the stairs. I spun towards the stairs and stupidly fired off my remaining shots. It did the job, but I ran out of ammo for the rifle. I drew my sidearm. But was met by a gloved fist which just missed my face. I threw two punches to his abdomen. He grunted, but continued. He retaliated by throwing a kick to the face, but I grabbed his leg, and flipped home over. I flipped my gun and hit him with the grip, to assure he was out. Then I turned my sights to president. He sat still, in fear. I grabbed him by the arm, and walked out of the building, victorious.

The concealed man.

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