The Resilient Mate

Chapter One.

There was a comfortable silence as each member of the team sat quietly, praying to which ever god they worshipped.

The newest and youngest member of the team sat staring at the opposite wall of the carrier, clutching his rifle with white knuckles. His knees shook and his teeth chattered. I nodded my head toward him, looking at Griff. He stood and walked over to Tom, bending down so that he was at ear level and whispered something to the youth.

Tom seemed to become calmer as Griff stood and nodded to me.

 “Alright, listen up!” My voice resounded through the carrier as the men all sat at attention. They’d all been briefed prior but it gave them an opportunity to focus as I ran over it again. “This is not a stealth mission; we go in, we take out the rebels and free the captives. We’ve pin- pointed their location to a tent in the centre of the camp. We’ll drop down on the north buildings and fan out from there. Griff will lead the recovery team; if any support is needed Gunner and Jackson will reinforce. Once we have them, the ground team will cover Griff and his men.”

“Insurgents are armed with AKM's, PBS & Dragons and Type 50; Cold War stuff.” Griff added.

The light went off and I walked to the centre of the floor where cables dropped down. “Let’s hustle!” Everyone lined up as the man behind clipped their teammate to the zip line. “Weapons check!”

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Check.”

The space was filled with the cocking of hammers as everyone cocked their guns, checking that everything loaded smoothly.

“Check.”

“Check.”

“Check.”

The rumble of the plane drowned out the beating of my heart as the floor dropped out from underneath us. The cord went tight as we dropped to the ground, my knees absorbing the impact as I snapped off the line and drew my weapon up in front of me, staring down the barrel. We fanned out, moving quickly and quietly.

“Alpha, bravo radio check. Roger.” Came the slightly fuzzy voice in my ear piece.

“Team two respect heavy contact; bring the rain.”

Deafening gunshots rang through the night as men appeared in front of us. “Move out!” I shouted as my finger squeezed the trigger, the loud bangs and kicks as my gun discharged. Adrenaline rushed through my body as bullets flew, shouts ringing through the night as men dressed in heavy garbs confronted us.

I covered my team as they rushed forward to meet the rebels head on. When a turbaned man appeared in front of me I raised my gun and bought it down on his head before smashing it into his throat hard.

His body slumped at my feet as I effortlessly stepped over him, discharging my gun every few seconds at any resistance. The click of my gun signified that my magazine was empty as I switched my rifle, a C8 Carbine, for the hand gun I knew was in the holster on my hip. I pulled it out as a man rounded the corner with his rifle drawn.

“I’ve got eyes on the targets, eyes on the targets.” Griff’s voice came through the radio as I took down the Al-Qaeda rebel. “But I’m taking heavy fire.” I could hear the gunshots through his head piece and swore.

Firing a shot into the head of another man I sprinted towards the middle of the camp, knowing that Gunner and Jackson were too far away. A man jumped out in front of me and aimed a punch to my face. I ducked, swinging out my leg and landing him on his back. I fired two shots into his chest and kept running.