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Heart beating, I run. Heavy breathing, I sprint. Within me, I shout in anger at the ideology of those threatening the peace. At how they spread lies and make the vulnerable believe. Not to mention wanting to kill my brothers-in-arms and myself as we defend the innocent.
I continue to run as I rotate from what we have designated Site A, passing through the area my men and I used as our entry point, towards the second prospective target we called Site B.
I continue to sprint, as fast as my legs can carry me. As fast as I can pump my legs to bring me to Site B in the least amount of time. My adrenaline rushing through my whole being as the urgency to reach my destination seemingly slowing down time, punctuated by the cries of help from my team broadcasting into my earpiece as one by one, 
based on their reactions to the action they are in the middle of, and the lack of response to my call, they lay their life down to accomplish the mission assigned to us this day.
I see the fountain in front of me, growing bigger as I get nearer. Estimating where the enemies are, I quickly calculated the time it would take them to reach the top end of the path we’ve started calling Banana. I hope to God I get there first so I could find a good spot where I could lay in wait and set up an ambush.
I turn the corner and scan the area. Quickly looking for the perfect spot and making sure the terrorists haven’t arrived yet, if they were coming this way. As I exhale a breath of relief in seeing the open space devoid of men with guns.
I spoke too soon. A couple of seconds after rounding the corner I see 1 appear. EZ, I thought. I squeeze a quick burst, hoping to get a kill before he realizes what’s happening, but I’ll settle for slowing their advance down.
Then a second appears, “Oh, wait…”
Then a third, “OH, WAIT!” all coming from Banana.
I shoot a burst shot from my M4A4, hoping to slow their advance and give me time to backpedal towards the corner I just turned, praying for enough cover.
I sling my weapon away towards my back and in one fluid motion, I grab one of my flashbangs, hoping it will slow their advance some more and give me some space from their attack.
Then BOOM! All I started seeing is white and the explosion startled me. I then realized they beat me to the clock and threw a flashbang themselves to slow ME down.
Visualizing from memory I run towards the ruins hoping to flank them, but my fickle mind decided against it, thinking I’ll be wasting too much time, and thus, will be at the disadvantage once they realize what I’m doing and prepare for me from that direction.
I turn back around after a quick reload, hoping and praying they are not brave enough to give pursuit and take advantage of me being outnumbered.
I hold my breath. I listen. Am I hearing footsteps? Am I about to reach the same fate as my team? Will I be lying in a bloody slump in a few minutes?
It seemed like hours but in reality, it was only a couple of seconds, I’ve concluded no one was chasing me. That could only mean one of three things: 1) they’re waiting to ambush me; 2) some of them are flanking me; or 3) they’re planting the bomb.
Whatever they’re doing I can’t stay here like a sitting duck.
I take a deep breath and exhale forcefully. Let’s do this, I tell myself and turn around to go back to meet them head-on.
As I run back towards the corner that will expose me to them I pause, having second thoughts of rushing out and stepping into their crosshairs as they wait for me to come out.
I decided to play some mind games. I hug the wall, and move forward to attack, hoping they’re thinking I’ve retreated. Then the first of them appeared. This is where the training kicks in. My finger is already on the trigger, ready to squeeze, as opposed to what local law enforcement academies teach: keep your trigger finger on the trigger guard until you’re ready to shoot. Not for me. Not for this job.
A bit arrogant on his part the first of these cowards come running around the corner and steps right into my sights.
A short burst from my M4A4 brought his now lifeless body falling on the ground like a sack of potatoes.
I jog backward, trying to make myself a smaller and harder target by constantly moving, anticipating the rest of them will follow suit.
But they don’t.
Where are they, I ask myself. Could they be regrouping, strategizing how to take me down, the lone enemy of theirs? I can’t let them do that. I can’t let them plan my death.
I need to go on the offensive. I say a short prayer to God for protection and quick reflexes then I put my trust in Him. Lead me, Lord, I say.
Bursting with more confidence now I sprint forward and turn left, my eyes scanning, my finger itching to squeeze the trigger.
Then I see one of them crouched low by the wall on the left, his shape a bit unnatural, but I recognize him to be one of them. I swing my weapon towards him and I start shooting. A couple of my bullets hit him on the shoulder and chest before he was able to shoot back. The impact of my bullets messing his aim up as none of his hit me. I don’t stop shooting until I’m sure he’s dead.
As his shooting stops and his body starts falling to the ground, I realize the reason for his unnatural shape as he’s crouched down. Another one of his friends was crouching behind him, effectively using him as a human shield.
Effectively saving me some time and bullets as the armor-penetrating bullets of my M4A4 easily shoot through the man in front and still have enough momentum to penetrate the second man, killing them both in one spray.
I grin. Another short, whispered prayer of thanks leaves my lips aimed at the Heavens.
Knowing there’s one more of them I go back to the cover of the corner wall. Using this time to reload and regulate my breathing. Not seeing an Arctic Warfare Police sniper rifle, of the AWP for short, I know the last remaining enemy would be anticipating my appearance around the corner. I also know he would be trying to use the corner wall by the barrels leading to Banana as cover, hiding as much of himself as he could.
Unconsciously, my lips slowly start curving up into a smile. Times like these are when I just couldn’t stop myself from playing with my food before devouring them. My vision blurs and my mind pictures where the sniper would be positioned. Then in a snap, my eyesight returns to normal, no, not normal but with more clarity. Time to play.
I run towards the corner. At the last minute, thinking he has his crosshairs aimed at where I would be bursting out, I jump as high as I could, hoping to be above his reticule.
BOOM! I heard the AWP ring out.
I squeeze my trigger mid-air a bit pushing him back to hiding. I land on my feet and strafe to the right hugging the wall, taking his angle away. Knowing I don’t have a fighting chance for afar against a sniper, I run towards him. As with Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, distance is my friend. If I could control the distance I will be in the more advantageous position.
With him hiding around the corner I’m sure he is already waiting for me, having his sights trained on where he anticipates me to be. But I’m not done playing with my food yet. Reaching the point where I will be visible to him again, I start shooting.
Another AWP shot rang out, but I was too close, him not anticipating the way I manipulated the distance to, again, mess up his aim. He missed. A deadly mistake for him.
Not wasting my time as my training kicks in once more, I aim and start shooting in bursts, trying to control the recoil as I take advantage of him trying to prepare another shot. I see him panic, not knowing what to do. I hope he saw the fire in my eyes, the smile on my face, and the calmness of my breathing, as I continued to shoot in bursts, making my shots more accurate, landing the majority on his mass.
The only time I take my finger off my trigger is when I see his AWP start to fall from his grip, as his body starts to fall to the ground almost simultaneously. I jog towards him still and stop to stand over him, making sure he has lost all ability to breathe. I nod to myself.
“Enjoy your trip to Hell,” I whisper, thinking about my brothers-in-arms lost to this senseless war. I wipe the tears that are starting to roll down my cheeks for our fallen and I radio in to Command, “Mission accomplished.”
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