The year is 2016. Joseph, a survivor of 9/11 follows his father's footsteps and enlisted in the military. Not long after, he along with two of his friends were deployed to Iraq among the ranks of some of the best American fighting men: the US Army...
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October 2008
Kholm, Afghanistan
Vasily Belov – SVR
"RPG!" Dmitri shouted.
It came from behind. Five o'clock high, from the sound of it. We may have managed to leap out of the open-air jeep and onto the desert trail, but it was all too late. The force of the vehicle explosion launched me in midair as an RPG-7 impacted the back of our vehicle, with me and the three GRU operatives still less than one meter away from it before the blast.
I had a hard landing with my back slamming onto a rock. Were the impact any harder, it would've ended me right on the spot. Dmitri landed on his belly in a patch of desert bushes about two meters on my four o'clock. The two other operatives were nowhere to be seen but my guts tell me they're just on the other side of the car wreck. Dmitri looked at me from among the foliage. Visibly injured about as much as the rest of us, but concealed well enough, I think.
"Stay down," I mouthed.
Both my legs were broken. I thought, this was it. I looked to my left where the rocket came from. I saw three men walking towards us with their rifles drawn. Fuck this. If I'm going down, I'm taking those bastards with me. I will die, but I will not surrender. Some static went out of my earpiece... incoming transmission from Central.
"Mosin-1, do you copy?!"
"Central... they're coming... Guess I'll go down fighting..."
"Niet! Hang tight, Comrade, backup in 3 minutes!"
"Don't have a minute... Tell my family I love them... Do svidaniya..."
Natasha... stay strong for me and take care of your mother and brother. Looks like we won't be hitting the range any more... but I hope at least this gun finds its way to you. I know you've always liked it. You are stronger than you think... I will be watching over you from up there...
Sergei... sorry about your men. They're heroes. All of them.
I tried to reach for my holster... only to realize that my right arm had been almost completely ripped off from the elbow down, only hanging by a few tendons. In a desperate attempt to make a last stand I then reached with my left arm. I grabbed my Pistolet Beshumniyy and pointed it at the three men. My vision may have been blurry, but I saw them all in those last two seconds. The two men on the left and right had an AKS-74U each. The bearded man in the middle had a golden AK-47 in his hands with a bayonet attached, wore an Afghan pakol and black shades, and had an RPG-7 slung behind his back. Looks like he's the one who just blew us up.
I pointed my pistol at him, from the chest up, and pulled the trigger. One round hit him in his chest but was stopped by his ballistic vest, though he staggered as I fired two more rounds. I raised my aim and fired off another round, and it grazed him in the face across his nose and cheeks. Before I could fire another round, the two other men opened fire at me, joined by the one in the middle shortly after. Sharp, hot rounds pierced into my torso and limbs as I managed to land three rounds into the gunman on the right, which hit him in the stomach before I lost my grip on my pistol. I felt pain as the bullets burrowed into my lungs and one even went into my heart... but after that it was all numb and cold. My vision gradually went dark.
