Another World at War

Chapter 30: James

Location: Bassingbourn Barracks, East of England

Unit: British Army Cadet Force

Date: July 11th, 2020 CE

Walking down an old decrepit road, a kid dressed in British Army uniform walked. In his hands, he held a semi-automatic rifle fitted with a yellow plug in the barrel. He carried empty magazines and a few other bits and pieces.

He kept moving forward, completely lost from his section as he wandered the road. After every pace, he felt the sun blaze down on his bush hat covered in grass.

Approaching a much bigger platform he looked left and right analysing the area. Taking a pace forward he felt eyes watching him. He took a pace backwards, speaking, "Anyone there?" he paused, "I'm lost."

Then from behind a pallet he saw a muzzle flash as a bullet whizzed past his face. Diving to the ground he felt his rifle smash into his chest. Pulling himself behind a small wall, he pulled a small box from one of his pouches, opening it up, he revealed a small mirror along with a small colour pallet of three different colours. Holding it by the colour pallet, he put the mirror around the corner, seeing a tower along with a whole Forward Operating base that looked like it had been torn from the Middle East operations from a few years ago. Suddenly, he saw the muzzle flash again, this time from the bottom of the tower.

The mirror shattered in the kid's hand, and his hand started to shake. Looking at the remains he froze for a few seconds, before dropping the small shards left. Suddenly, recoiling back as gunfire shot no more than a metre from him, hitting his head on the back of the table he swore, "Fuck."

Suddenly seeing it had a few shelves, he noticed several 5.56 magazines loaded with live ammunition. Contemplating his actions he stared at them for a few seconds. Suddenly, gunfire woke him from his decision-making as he instinctively unscrewed the yellow plug before inserting the magazine. Moving his rifle to his right shoulder, he peaked the corner firing on one of the windows before hearing a loud explosion, like it was a grenade that was set off. Quickly moving to the other side he peaked looking carefully, moving back into cover he faced the wall, sweating.

He wiped his forehead removing his bush hat. He paused hearing something behind him, a footstep... then.

"Move and you die kid," the voice said, the kid felt a cold barrel on the back of his neck, and he dropped his rifle noticing something on the shelves, a pistol, it was small. The slide was locked in the back and a round was chambered. He could see the brass cartridge in the magazine. He wondered if it was safe or not.

Gulping the kid asked, "Can I turn around?"

The figure nodded, "Slowly."

The kid turned his body concealing his left arm behind his body, and then he stopped. The figure looked at him, "You going to finish turning?"

The kid saw the figure's eyes begin to twitch, then his eyes began to close, it was like time slowed down around him, drawing his arm up he pointed the small pistol close to the man's face before hitting the slide release and pulling the trigger.

Several shots rang out as burned hot air and extreme pressure exited the barrel hitting the figure in the chest.

The figure stood there smiling, no bullets had connected, "Well done, you passed."

The kid froze.

The figure turned around, "Call me Reaper," he paused, "now what's your name?"

The kid shook his head, "James T-Thompson."

Reaper looked at James, "Well James, you're an incredibly fast draw. However, look in the magazine."

James pulled back the slide looking at the ammunition still stored in the magazine, "They're blanks?"