A brisk breeze blew through the streets. Dust picked up and was scattered over the city blocks of Peshawar, and those under it worked tirelessly.
It had been no less than ten minutes after Captain Thompson had directed his men to search for any sign of friendly forces underneath the rubble of what was once the target building that was suspected to hold international terrorist, "Brutus."
Gloved hands attempted to move pieces of rubble, but even in synchronized movements, the strength of five men wasn't enough to move enough debris to investigate ground zero of what looked to be a powerful improvised explosive device.
All around shops, apartments, sheds, and homes were affected by the blast wave of the explosion. In addition, when Corporal Ramirez, the medic of the squadron, investigated one of the dead SSG members bodies, it was revealed that even they were affected by the blast in addition to the damage done to their bodies by firearms.
In the confusion, Sergeant Randall spent his time alone digging on the southern side of the building. This was the side of where the US operators initially breached. As he knelt down, Randall spotted a small cavity the stretched inside of the ruins. Not wanting to get stuck, he brought out a flashlight and turned it on. The beam of light cut through the darkness and what Randall saw made his chest tighten and his stomach sink.
There a body laid torn in half. Dark red blood coated the face of the body, and a color pallet of red, marron, purple, and pink colors were strung about at the end of the cavity. Clumps of matter were spread about the ground. None of the piles were recognizable as a body or body-part.
Randall fell to the ground and used his right hand to cover his mouth. He breathed in and out at a steady pace as he attempted to clear his mind of the sight he had just seen. Taking one last look Randall recognized the body that was still intact.
Chief Warrant Officer Eric Briner was confirmed killed in action. His face was a deathly pale, and his eyes had glossed over no longer containing any light.
Regaining his composure, Randall got off the ground and stumbled to the rest of the men who were gathered in a small, covered section of the building where they were taking a moments breath.
"I haven't found anything. Just a lot of rubble and broken cabinets." Green said wearily as he kept his head down.
"Fuck." Lieutenant Patterson responded frustrated from the lack of progress that had been made, "Mike you found anything? You look a bit pale."
Randall nodded slowly and took a seat next to Green who had now raised his head to look at him. "Something like that..." He said in a tired voice. Raising his hand, Randall pointed south where he had just been, "Just over there." He said softly, "Just over there, some of our guys-no what is left of them. They're over there."
Captain Thompson swallowed hard, and the others slowly averted their gazes from Randall. Silence was all there was during the brief session of mourning, and no one dared to say anything. The only one that dared to disturb the peace was Lieutenant Patterson who suddenly rose from his seat and grabbed his rifle.
The others looked at him confused on why he had suddenly sprung from his seat, and before anyone could ask what he was doing, Patterson hissed the shut and pointed at his ear while mouthing "listen!".
One by one the men raised themselves from their makeshift seats. It was clear what Patterson was intending for the men to understand. In the distance a constant hum began to grow louder by the second.
A vehicle was closing in on their position.
"Set up positions around the rubble. Malkovich, Richard, Baker, get to high ground and get your weapons set!" Thompson ordered.
Moving with Green, Simon, and Ramirez, Randall checked the ammunition in the current magazine in his M-5. He momentarily remained on the "maneuvering warfare" that was employed during the First Gulf War. The idea was to expose an enemy's weakness and to exploit it until an opposing force was defeated.
In an ironic fashion, it had seemed that today's enemies had learned lessons from long ago.
In the distance two unmarked vehicles and a technical truck with a machine gun rolled through the crowded streets. The occupants of the vehicles were on high alert. The ma non the now identified M2 Browning Machinegun kept looking to the buildings above, while the men in the passenger seats of the other vehicles scanned the streets around the rubble.
Aligning his optical gunsight on the lead vehicle, Randall heard Simon sigh as he too shuffled into position. "-And here I thought our job here was done."
"Our jobs are never done, Simon." Wiping a small amount of sweat from his face, Green spoke while brushing off the tube connected to his camelback from his shoulder. "Trust me when we get back there'll be something else..." His sentence was cut short as he glanced across the room.
"What does that mean?" Simon asked not removing his face from the carbine in his hands.
With no answer the two went silent as the roar of the vehicles grew softer as they maneuvered around the graveyard of abandoned or destroyed vehicles, IFVs, APCs, and LAVs in the streets. The sun reflected off their dust covered windshields, and each Ranger grew anxious as they all waited for the order to open fire.
The convoy rapidly approached the kill-one and a mixture of excitement and nervousness spread over Randall as his finger now hovered over the trigger of his M-5, though he kept his cool as the vehicles came to a stop in the open. Five men stepped out of the lead vehicle, and four more from the other car. Only the driver, passenger, and gunner remained in the truck.
"Stand by to fire." Thompson said.
As the men waited patiently, unexpectedly, the five men in suits that were spotted earlier in the day walked out of a nearby building. All were wielding the old P-90 personnel defense weapon.
"Short bursts. Make sure they drop once you target them." Malkovich said over local communications. "These may be rebels, but you can be sure that they will be trigger happy."
Bracing his rifle against the window ceil, Green spoke as he adjusted his scope, "You think you can hit your target?"
"Can you?" Randall quipped making the two men beside him chuckle.
"AT-4! AT-4! Hit the technical!" Thompson said aloud gaining the attention of the three.
"Watch the back blast!"
"Back blast clear!"
"Send it! Send it!"
"Blast those motherfuckers!"
The collection of voices was drowned out by the subdued explosive noise that came from the AT-4 being fired. The opposing forces heard the blast and the technical attempted to turn, but immediately a large cloud of black smoke and brown dirt rose into the air followed by an impressive crack from the shockwave.
"Whoooaa!" Richard yelled excitedly.
As the sounds of gunfire erupted the Rangers returned fire, and Randall began to expend rounds downrange where he saw the men through the thick smoke and dust.
"Open up!" Patterson bellowed as his voice played over local comms.
"Three right! Twelve o'clock!" Simon shouted as he pointed his finger at three insurgents scrambling for cover.
A steady tempo of gunfire played over the battlefield, yet there was a deeper sounding and more resounding "boom" that happened in three to six round bursts at a consistent rate.
A sudden hiss impacted the wall next to Green making him fall to the ground. "Crap! Fuck!" He screeched while moving himself back from the wall.
"Don't let them pin you down!" Sergeant Malkovich bellowed loudly, "Keep firing!"
"Fuck dude! How the hell have I not been shot by now!?" Lieutenant Patterson complained as he slunk back into cover.
"Jackson is dead!" Richard's voice broke into several pitches as he wailed, "He fuck-he took a round to the face!"