A/N:Puma here! This will be my first ever piece of fictional writing, so CONSTRUCTIVE criticism would be appreciated.
"This is Scorpius-Two-Niner, how copy? Over."
Static.
"I repeat, this is Scorpius-Two-Niner, how copy? Over."
More static.
"Well boys, I guess we're screwed."
A chorus of "crap" and "fuck" echoed through the squad of five.
The squad of five, known as 'Scorpius 2-9' had been stuck here for, according to their watches, about 5 hours. The five members of the close knit camaraderie that was Scorpius 2-9, they weren't brothers and sisters, although you'd think they were, the way they acted around each other.
There was the leader, Corporal Jeremiah 'Mutt' MacArthur, the explosives expert, from Birmingham, Alabama. He had been training for Explosive's & Ordnance Disposal, when his squad had been called out to Columbia* to conduct a 'spectre' operation- observe, get in, get out, get picked up. Nothing was supposed to go wrong. So, of course, Murphy said 'Fuck You!', and wrecked their entire operation.
One of their squad members had fallen down a steep hill when the road they had been walking on collapsed, causing his leg to be pulverized by a log. The man, Thomas 'Frost' Holcomb, had died from the subsequent blood loss several minutes after his fall. Another man, Alan Pugh, had stepped on a 'foot popper' mine--comprised of a shotgun shell and a nail. The bones from his foot had been driven into his chest, neck, and face. He died after almost two full minutes of choking on his own blood.
So, the remaining three squad members were rather confused when the two men were alive--in tip-top condition as well. The squad mates got over it, just happy to see their friends again.
And so, the five of them set up a camp, using the five-man, ultra-lightweight, nano tent- a prototype with them for extensive field testing.
"Hey, Mutt."
"Yeah, Pugh?"
"What the hell are we gonna do now that we can't contact command?"
"No idea, probably set up a perimeter, and hold out until we can do some reconnaissance of this area."
The area--jungle, by the look of it-- had thick foliage surrounding the clearing they had landed in. It looked one hell of a lot like the jungle they had landed in when they started the op.
Flashback
The ride back to the carrier on the RHIB had gone extremely well, considering the circumstances of their situation. They were now riding through the muddy, brown water at somewhere around 50 miles per hour, or 80 kilometers an hour.
RATATATATATATA
"INCOMING FIRE!!!!"
"GET TO THE RIVER BANK! THERE! ON THE RIGHT!"
A sharp right hand turn.
"Burchett! Enemy on the left hand bank, 9 o'clock!"
The reports of several weapons greeted the enemy, the molten lead and copper tearing through their bodies, ripping throats, tearing arteries, and pulverizing bones.
RATATATATA-PFSSSSS
"Boat's hit!" Called Arla.
"Then get to the shore faster!"
SCHLUNK "FUCK! I'm hit!"
"ALVAREZ! I NEED YOU TO SHORE THIS BOAT YESTERDAY!"
"More enemies at our 11!"
"Mutt!"
"What?!"
"Techie to our right! You might want to get down!"
BOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP
7.62 millimeter bullets whizzed around their boat, left and right, as they sped through the area, the Russian-made PK firing all along the way.
That is, until some bullets hit the engine.
"Jump ship!Go go go!!"
RATATAT-SHPLOOSH
Bullets whizzing through the water. Alvarez has some red stuff coming out o- OH SHIT!
Spla-TATATATATABOPOPOPOPOP
'Swim, you fuck!'
He started swimming. Then blinding pain.
He couldn't move his legs.He started sinking. More pain. Then he blacked out, into the abyss that is unconsciousness.
End of flashback
"All right, pack up. It's time to do some recon. Get to the western edge of the clearing when you pack up."
Everyone, surprisingly, still had their weapons, which were four M16's (or in the case of Arla, an M14 with a scope), 5 M1911's and/or M9's, and the standard issue M9 bayonet. Also surprisingly, they still had eight magazines each, even though they were almost out of ammo when they were returning to the carrier.
"All right, what now?" Arla said, finally breaking the silence between the Force Recon members.
"Now, we perform recon on the surrounding areas. West first."
As they walked through the dense jungle(as they had plotted the surrounding area on the back of their maps, this was okay to do), they had run across little to no clearings.
That is, until they stumbled upon the edge of the forest. They were now lying in a set of bushes with binoculars, watching the town they had found.
There were colorful, equine-like creatures. Which was weird, considering the area they were in didn't have horses. The second problem was their flanks. They had pictures on them. Yes, pictures. The third( and final) problem was that they witnessed them opening doors, which, all things considered, was pretty weird.
At the end of that day, they had returned to camp with further knowledge of the creatures, and more mapping.
A/N: Hi again! It's Puma. I hope you enjoyed! Please leave constructive criticism in the comments. On a side note, no arguing in the comments. That makes me go batshit. See ya!
