Burning white

With a single “ping” from Argos, the gas canister sparked, and a cloud of bright yellow fire engulfed the area it covered, nearly the entire campsite. The cloud lasted for only a second, but those who it engulfed, lasted until their deaths only seconds later. There were many burning gunmen in the camp some rolling on the ground, others dumping water over themselves, but none of their efforts were sufficient. eventually, everything that was there had disappeared, the only evidence being the burning calcium that used to be their bones. I looked at the carnage and what was left of those who were caught in it, and I wondered what it was that burned them so quickly to nothing but ash.

Argos looked at me. “It appears as though something is on your mind. What is your concern?”

I hesitated. “What was it that burned these gunmen so fast…?”

“That I cannot tell, just know it was approved from the top levels of your command.”

I did not want to leave it be as the answer, but I did not have a choice. I heard yelling and a whole lot of mixed noises coming from a tunnel dug into the mountain. From the hole came a swarm of Baas’s goons armed with AK’s and Machine Guns. They all got behind cover and started spraying their ammo in every direction imaginable. There never seemed to be an end to the maelstrom of bullets, one guy was shooting when another was reloading. A couple of bullets smacked against the rocks I used for cover. I flinched back and retracted my rifle, holding it close to me like it was a small dog. More and bigger bullets began slamming against the rocks we were hiding behind, eventually there would be no more cover. There was a pause in gunfire coming from the other end of the field, where I peeked over to see guns either with red hot barrels or the chambers were jammed. I wasted no time in preparing a Flashbang, pulling its pin and throwing off its spoon, then chucking it towards the crowd. A few seconds later, I heard the sharp crack of the Flashbang touch my ears. Those who were caught in the flash were disoriented and dazed, trying to grab on to something to stabilize themselves, or trying to keep themselves from falling while covering their eyes. I threw my weapon outward towards the crowd and placed my red dot over at the crowd, trying to zero an LOS to someones head.

“Engage, engage, engage!” I yell into the troop net.

I heard a crack coming from the adjacent mountain top from mine, and heard a faint “tss!” a few seconds after, and saw a fighter armed with an RPG spin and flop to the ground, missing a portion of his head. There was a pool of blood that quickly spread from the fighters head upon hitting the ground, where his friends and battle buddies had moved to cover the body, while some others were looking back and shooting in whatever direction they were looking at. I looked over toward Argos, who had his MG out and aiming toward the crowd, who were crowding around the body like they’ve never seen one before.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask, aiming my weapon towards the crowd.

“It appears as though the enemy, although disorganized, have spotted your sniper. It is advisable that you warn him of the imminent danger soon to come.”

A frightening chill scattered throughout my body. “Nightwatch 2-2, be advised, your position was confirmed, you are going to be under attack soon, watch your back.”

Nothing but static was his response, which sparked some worry in me for a minute. In that time, I saw a group of fighters leave the area in the complete opposite direction of Pauls location. I thought that they were going in to get ammo for the rest of their men. I flicked my weapon off safety and yanked my trigger in a burst of gunfire, not really knowing if I took anyone out. A few more cracks of sniper fire came in from the other mountain, and with it, more snaps for each target that the sniper rounds hit. I felt at ease knowing Paul was still okay. I flinched to hear Argos fire his Machine Gun towards the crowd, having absolutely no kick or recoil. The shells of the gun spewed out of the chamber system like a waterfall, and each shell had a moment of red hotness, before cooling off with the cold and frigid mountain air. The tracer rounds embedded into the gun left a faint red beam of light in its wake, it was almost as good as a laser cannon of some sort, and the fresh smell of gunpowder was slightly tickling my nose. After that, through all of the enemy combatants that fell, the rest of them took cover behind structures that obstructed our line of sight, I knew then I had to move elsewhere.

I threw myself up on my feet and placed my foot on the edge of the flat that we were on.

“Locksmith, what are you doing?” Argos questions.

“We aren’t useful here.” I reply. “I’m going in.”

Paying no attention to whatever Argos might have said thereafter, I mad-dashed about 50 yards toward the crowd of unwary fighters and took cover behind a boulder that was situated just behind the foot of the campsite. The fighters just finished examining the fighter taken out by Pauls first sniper round when they turned around to see a monsoon of bullets coming from Argos. I saw the blood emerging from the faces of those they struck, and even more blood spraying from the area that covered my field of view from the boulder. I moved in the opposite direction in hopes of flanking them. When I emerged from the boulder to flank the fighters, there was a single man who completely towered me in both height and build, he had no shirt, and a pair of ERDL pants with the black boots. The first thing I did was rip my knife from it sheath to try and cut him, but he stopped me short as the blade was just coming to his abdomen, forcing my hand to hyperextend in directions it wasn’t supposed to. The pain was damn near unbearable, almost like he was about to completely tear my hand off. I was forced to submit to the pain, and caught myself lowering to my knees, and this guy wasn’t even moved. I couldn’t let my knees touch the ground. I held myself up with all the strength in my legs, which gave a faint scream of pain. Not too much longer later, I felt the force of gravity go against me, and my neck begin to crush with force, as the fighter lifted me off of the ground by my neck with one hand, and picked up my rifle with his other hand.

“This is nice gun.” He said in broken english.

My blood was just on the verge of boiling, and I knew full well what he would do with the rifle once he put 1 and 2 together to make 3 and realized that the weapon was loaded and off safety. I tried swinging my legs as the fighter examined my rifle from top to bottom, while holding me up with no problem at all. Every second he put his unclean eyes on my rifle made me angrier, where I could feel my blood heat up to millions of degrees above that of the normal temperature. The fighter noticed my efforts to free myself, and tightened his grip on my neck. The pain was excruciating, but I knew if I didn’t push through that I would soon suffer the consequences, if not the ultimate sacrifice. I picked up my legs and kicked him away, dropping both my knife and my rifle. The skyscraper of a man got back up and created a fist. He ran toward me and slugged me with a swing thrown at full force right to my chest. It knocked me back about 3 feet, and it felt like he tore out my rib cage. He came in and picked me up by my neck with both hands choking me and attempting to break my neck. I slowly created a fist and gathered all of my strength to that hand.

“F**K YOU!” I scream, slugging the guy in the face. He backed off enough to allow me to get back up and into the fighting stance.

At that point, I heard a “shick!” and saw a small spear going through the fighters abdomen, crimson blood flowing smoothly from the wound. I saw Argos walking around the fighter, still having his tail spear impaled into the fighter. The fighter stood in silence, looking down on the spear that entered and exited his body, with the streams of blood flowing cleanly from the wound. The spear then glowed red, and smoke rose up from the wound, making the fighter scream with tremendous amounts of pain, almost passing out.

“There was a wise man who once said, you are what you make of yourself.” Argos began, twitching his tail spear, painfully subduing the fighter.

“This is clearly not your natural build.” Argos continues. “You have used muscular enhancing drugs such as the injected use of steroids to enhance your capabilities in combat. No mortal human has the strength to lift an average adult male off the ground only with one hand.”

“Average…?” I whisper.

Argos looks at me. “Attack dog?” He counters.

I laugh, this kid was smarter than I anticipated. “Carry on.”

Argos turns his head back to the fighter. “You will never get anything out of me.” The fighter assured.

“We are not trying to retrieve anything from you…I already know everything.” Argos replied.

He slid his tail spear out from the fighter and whipped it around at lightning speed to cut the fighters huge f*****g iron beams for calfs. Instead of blood, a clear liquid seethed out from the wound. The fighter was lowered to one knee.

“We are morally correcting you.” Argos admitted. “The use of drugs, such as the kind you are obviously addicted to, greatly enhances your effectiveness in combat, which is good enough for some users to begin injecting on a daily basis. However…” Argos pauses.

He walks around the fighter, then closes his head next to the his, so he could hear Argos’s voice very clearly. “The use of drugs is widely prohibited among your religion, Islam, which is the religion that is most occupied among your kind. Although permanently inscribed into the keystones of your religion, stating the restrictions and leniencies that are employed among the people, you went against the regulations and expectations, only to increase your chances of winning in a battle that was stripped hopelessly of all victory. Tell me, what was the purpose that drove you to risk such odds?”

“I...I did it to, to look better for my people…” The fighter admits.

Argos rotates his tail spear around and throws it at full force and impales it into his arm, where more of a mixture of blood and the clear fluid began seeping from the wound, which the fighter yells in a further application of unbearable pain. “Scans indicate an increase in heart and pulse rate, which suggests you are lying.”

The fighter began to cry. “Submit, you have sinned heinously.” Argos advised.

The fighter gave no response but tears. He began balling his eyes out when he realized how bad he fucked up. Argos twitched his tail to increase the pain and make him cry harder. “Submit.” Argos orders.

“I submit, I submit…”The fighter whispers.

“I cannot hear you.” Argos whispers.

“I submit!! I submit!!! I SUBMIT!!!” The fighter cries.

Argos slides his tail spear from the fighters arm and swings it around at full force to administer a precise slash across his jugular, killing him instantly. I look beyond the area where the fighter fell, only to see absolutely nobody there, not even dead bodies. The area was clean of all blood and bodies, leaving only the natural rocks and dirt that was already there.

“Where are the other guys you came across?” I ask.

Argos looks behind him, then looked back at me. “We had a small disagreement, however, our disputes were settled.”

“Whatever, lets just collect the intelligence.” I advise.

“Nightwatch 2-1, 2-2. Where the f**k did everybody go?” Paul wonders.

“Nightwatch 2-2, we got ‘em all. Thanks for the support.” I answer.

I slung my rifle over my shoulder and began breaking open boxes and sifting through papers, all of which were stating the location of Baas and how to contact him. The other boxes, damn near impossible to open, contained MREs and more papers that had nothing but drawing with some maps and instructions and how to load and operate some weapons. Argos was standing at the foot of the hold that the other fighters came from, flooding the tunnel with a scanning laser.

“You find anything?” I ask.

“Negative. Only bed frames, mattresses, and small sums of water. None else.”

“You know, I always thought that I would be operating in other places that basic Marines wouldn’t go, but I never thought that meeting you would even cross my career as a SEAL.” I admit.

Argos only looks at me.

“Honestly, its fucked up.” I finish.

“Agreed.” Argos admits.

I look at him in confusion. “Agreed…?”

“Yes. I can see that this year is only 2015. I should have been created sometime around 2045 at earliest, but here I am earlier than previously estimated.” Argos admits. “People these days cannot comprehend my technological advances rather than the basic artificial intelligence programs no smarter than the average high school football player.”

I looked back to my work and smile. Luckily Argos understood me. I fold up all of the papers I found and stow them into my pack, ready to read them over before heading back.

“Onslaught predicted.” Argos estimated.

I snap back at him at the speed of light. “What?”

I heard gunfire coming from the mountain where Paul and his team sat, followed immediately by an explosion. “NIGHTWATCH 2-1, ...2-2...ENEMY FO...POSITION!! HOSTILE...OVERWA...RANGERS KIA!! I SAY AGAIN! RAN...ARE KIA!!” Paul screams into the radio, his voiced mixed with gunfire and white noise.

“Nightwatch 2-2, you are unreadable, say again!” I yell in reply.

“HOST...FOUND OU...CKING POSITION!! RA...ARE DEAD, THER...NO ONE LEFT!!”

“F**k, f**k, f**k, f**k…” I think to myself.

“Locksmith, scans indicate your friend still lives.” Argos estimates.

“Yeah, no s**t. He’s getting close to death, though!”

I began pacing in place trying to think of something that can hopefully save him. More gunfire presented itself, followed by a speck of light that shot towards paul, but missed. He was in deep s**t, thats for damn sure. I began putting together a plan, had a little bit to do with Argos, and I had no idea if it was going to work.

“Argos” I call.

“Locksmith” The mechanical hound replied.

“Do a scan to find who’s attacking paul, then get some indirect on them. After that, get another scan going to see how he’s doing, roger?”

“Scan complete.” Argos finishes.

“Holy f**k he’s fast” I thought to myself.

“There is a squad of 12 hostile elements, all of which are armed with AK47s and RPD machine guns. Most of them took bullet damage to the legs, but still seem mobile.”

Thats all I needed to hear. I mad-dashed up the cliff and tried getting to paul. More gunfire presented itself, as I got closer to Paul. The air was frigid and very cold, and the crackles of gunfire seemed louder than they should be from where I was standing. The cold seeped through my boots and gloves and started chilling my feet and hands, slowing my reaction speed to any threat. My hands felt like they weren’t there at all, they had gone numb from the constant cold exposure with no heat. I threw my rifle over my shoulder, tightening its sling across my chest, and got a hold of a rock wall, slanted enough to allow me to climb, when Paul came clear over the troop net.

“Nightwatch- ah, f**k it! Locksmith! I’m running along the edge of a cliffside, and I see an edge approximately 56 yards ahead, i’m gonna jump the f**k over!”

“What the f**k is he thinking” I think to myself. “Good copy! I’ll meet you down here!”

“Additional heat signatures detected at your 11 O’clock.” Argos notified.

I threw my weapon to my 11 and rush to cover behind a small rock facing the corner of another rock-covered, crooked pathway leading elsewhere, keeping my reticle on the location Argos described. “Blue!” I scream, flicking my weapon off safety.

No reply.

“BLUE!!” I scream again, placing my finger on the trigger.

“Ridge!” I hear in reply.

I instantly knew that friendlies were emerging from the corner. Remaining in cover, I took my reticle away from the location and awaited the friendlies to come from the corner, keeping my hand on my holstered pistol. Coming from the corner was Sergeant Dane and his two other Rangers, Specialist Jackson and Private Greere. Sergeant Dane, with his tricked out M249 SAW dangling from his shoulder, detained a fighter wearing an ERDL uniform with a red beret, but the usual utility belt they had was missing.

“Who do you got there?” I ask.

“Dude, motherfucking Folami Baas.” Specialist Jackson informed.

“No f*****g way!” I yelled. I was pissed.

Sergeant Dane booted the f****r to the ground and threw his M249 to his front, aiming at the head. Private Greere kneeled and covered their six, while Specialist Jackson looked around cautiously for any targets of opportunity. Sergeant Dane looked up at me for a minute, smirked, then  looked back down at Baas.

“Hell yeah man, we got him in a tent planning an attack on Bagram. We got that intel and this f****r, who tried taking off. Greere over there got his a*s.” Dane advised.

Baas was coughing repeatedly, trying to speak, when he was interrupted by gunfire coming from the North, where Paul was running. “Get ready for a fight, one SEAL is about to launch his crazy a*s from that mountain, and we’re gonna cover him!” I warned.

The Rangers took a defensive position just across from the hill that Paul was about to jump from, all lasers dancing around the target. Paul jumps into the scene with some high-speed, likely unintended, parkour flips and spins, where he eventually fell on his a*s and slid down the slope. He was going fast enough to slide on the ground and slam into a rock wall facing his direction. He, instead, broke his slide with his boots, dust trailing slowly behind him, and came to a clean stop in the center between the end of the slope and the rock wall, where he instantly got up and mad-dashed his way to cover, throwing his laser to the cliff. I saw multiple green uniforms with AKs, which started firing in our direction, bullets smacking into the rock, chipping off small pieces every time.

“Why is it that every time we go on a multi-day operation, s**t ALWAYS goes down on the first!?” Paul screams.

“Engage, engage, engage!!” I yell, shoving Pauls complaint aside.

Instantly, Argos, the Rangers, Paul and I opened fire, the constant crackle of machine gun fire from Sergeant Danes M249 SAW was nearly deafening me, while the suppressed whispers of me and Pauls rifles were quiet enough to where we could faintly hear the snaps of the bullets hitting our targets. One by one, each enemy fighter fell either backwards or tripped over the cliff and fell to their imminent death. The other fighters retreated, with what was left of their 15 man force...or so it looked.

Keeping my eye going through my optic, I took my hand off the handguard of my SCAR and pointed to Baas. “Get that piece of s**t on his feet.”

Wasting no time, Paul and Sergeant Dane yanked Baas to his feet, throwing him to the wall nearby. He was bleeding a little from his nose and mouth, it was clear the Rangers had a little struggle trying to get him.

“Get whatever he knows out of his head, I want to know about the planned nuclear attacks and Bagram attacks, we’ll sit here all f*****g day if we have to.” I ordered. “Greere, Jackson, weapons up and ready, keep watch around us.”

“Roger” They reply.

I flick my weapon on safety and pulled it back, muzzle pointed in the air. I made my way to Baas, who was being questioned and painfully interrogated by Paul, while being held to the wall by Sergeant Dane. Baas replied only once with spitting blood onto Pauls FAST uniform. His new AOR1 uniform was dirtied up in blood that wasn’t his.

Paul stepped back and examined the blood stain on his chest. He looked back up to Baas. “You m**********r.” He cussed.

“Scans indicate a steady increase in heart rate, resulting in an increase in fear and denial.” Argos advises.

“Can you see what he knows, Argos?” Sergeant Dane wonders.

Baas gave a faint exhale of fear, not knowing what Argos was capable of.

“I am not that advanced, yet.” Argos answers.

“F**k.” I think to myself.

“Scans indicate several heat signatures behind us, it is an enemy rescue team of 30 men and rising.” Argos warns.

“What the f**k? How close are they?” I nearly yell.

At that point, I heard a crack in the distance, a bullet flying by and hitting me in the chest. It felt like someone punched me or clubbed me with an iron rod. I fell to the ground, the air getting blown from me upon contact. I couldn’t breathe for those few seconds. Within a half a second later, Greere and Jackson move forward and send rounds downrange, taking a kneeling position. Paul and Sergeant Dane move and grab my arms, dragging me to cover.

“You good, bro?” I heard from Paul.

“Yeah man, hit the kevlar.” I replied. I looked around for Baas, who was nowhere to be found. “Hey, where’s the HVT?” I practically yell over the gunfire.

Paul and Sergeant Dane looked around, trying to find the b*****d. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, making a break for it through the mountainous terrain. I got up instantly and began pursuing him. “Sergeant Dane, you, Argos, and your boys stay here and hold off the rescue team! Tick, you’re on me!”

Paul instantly bolts it following me, while I jump through and over a whole lot of rocks to get closer to Baas as he was trying to escape us. I heard the constant crackle of his boots hitting the ground, and heard a few times that he almost fell in them. He didn’t know how to run in boots, especially the vietnam kind like his. I tried running faster, but the rocks in the way continually slowed me down. I saw something fly towards the corner of my eye, which scared the s**t out of me. It looked like a stick being thrown like a stick grenade. Not too long after that, Baas fell, while holding on to his leg, pulling something out of it and limping as fast as he could. I looked back to see Paul in his post-knife-throwing stance.

“Nice throw” I compliment.

Paul only smiled. He continued to run faster along with me, quickly catching up to Baas. I could hear his faint gasps of painful air as he tried to limp as fast as he could away from us.

Paul sped in front of me In attempt to catch him. “C’mere a*****e!” I hear from him.

Paul tackles Baas and equips a flex-cuff to him to prevent him from escaping.

“Rangers, we have the HVT secure.” I call over the radio.

“Roger that, the rescue force has been dealt with, but Greere was hit. We have no comms to command, send out a 9-line for us, will ya?”

“M**********r.” I whisper.

“sup?” Paul wonders.

“Rangers don’t have f*****g comms to Bagram, and one of their guys got hit.”

“Son of a b***h.” He cusses.

“Roger, we will make our way back to you and call it in.” I assure.

The Ranger on the other end gave no response. Paul picked up Baas, who was struggling a whole lot trying to get free. Paul would punch him every now and then to get him to stop wiggling like a worm. The terrain around us was thick with rocks and vegetation, god knows how they manage to survive up here. It didn’t take as long getting back to the Rangers than moving away from them, which seemed odd enough. I saw Private Greere laying on the ground, bleeding from the leg, and the entire 30 man rescue team laying dead in front of them.

Sergeant Dane glares at Baas. “That f****t better be worth Greeres’ blood.”

“He’s not, but we’ll make sure he pays when he gets back to base.” Paul assures. He looks back down at Baas. “Isn’t that right, a*****e?”

That moment later, we heard continual gunshots coming from our north, and they sounded like they ranged in 50 plus. I looked at Baas, who was smiling.

“Burn in hell, Americans, burn in hell.”

The Rangers, Argos, and Paul got into defensive position and threw their rifles in every direction possible, I threw Baas behind cover and threw my optic in the direction of the gunfire.

We are so fucked.

Author's Note

We're getting close to the end! If there's anything to say, please leave a review! Enjoy!!