"Laskins, refresh my memory of why we're in this fucking desert." Pvt. Baker yelled over the sound of the helicopters engines.

David Baker is a fairly handsome man, with a medium frame. Standing at 6'2", he is very muscular, with short brown hair, grey-green eyes, and constantly wears aviator glasses. He is a trained medic, who has yet to see combat.

"Well, Baker, were here because these fuckers killed four of our guys, so we're gonna kick their ass in return." Cpl. Laskins replied, not looking away from the door.

Cpl. Alexander Laskins is also fairly handsome, with a small wiry frame. Standing at 5'7, he is also very muscular, although his squads nickname for him is 'tiny'. He has baby blue eyes, jet black hair, and never wore his ballistic helmet, much to the chagrin of his squad mates.

"Cut the gossip ladies, were 2 clicks out from Somali airspace." Sgt. Wilson deadpanned, Checking his carbine for the fifth time.

Sgt. Brad Wilson is a larger man, with a husky frame, sanding at 6'5" he wasn't as muscular as the others, but was still strong. He had dark brown eyes, black hair with a hint of grey, and called his gun his baby, even though his squad mates busted his balls for it.

"Ok, gun sucker!" Laskins chuckled, causing baker to crack up as well.

"Oh shut up, I know your into Sex dolls Laskins!" Wilson retorted, making Laskins blush heavily, and causing baker to only laugh harder.

"Oh, god" baker said, wiping a tear from his eye "I wonder if we'll find a blow up one in his-" before being interrupted by a large explosion and the shaking of the helicopter.

"Gah! Shit!" One of the pilots screamed. "Brace for impact!"

Just a few seconds after the pilots warned them, the chopper hit the ground, knocking out laskins and baker, leaving only the co-pilot and Wilson standing.

"What the fuck just happened pilot?" Wilson screamed, already unbuckling himself and the other two marines.

"I think we got hit by an RPG! We lost the yaw controls, so we had to take her down so she didn't get into a death spin!" The pilot said, drawing an mp-5k from a holster in the seat.

"We need to get away from the chopper before the somalis get here!"
Wilson yelled, dragging the two unconscious marines towards a bar, 60 feet away from the crash site.

"Alright, I guess I'll cover you then." The pilot said, noticing how he was dragging both men at once.

"Good, keep those Somalis off my ass!" Wilson said, not noticing the pilots mild amazement.

Just before opening the doors a Somali gunman saw his opportunity when the group had to stop.

POP

The Somali didn't have time to get back to cover before the pilot ripped him to shreds.

POP POP POP

the pilot then turned to Wilson and noticed him holding his chest "you okay man?"

Wilson turned to the pilot and laughed "these vests sure as hell don't take the sting out of a bullet, let's get inside."

The pilot just shrugged and followed the marine.

The bar looked to be a fairly popular one back in its time, but now it looked shot up and abandoned, it had a wooden bar councounter that was falling apart, it had chair prices strewn about, the dead body of a Somali civilian still sitting at the bar, still holding onto a half empty mug.

"Ugh, It's disgusting what these militants will do to their own civilians" the pilot said with disdain. He was always the guy who told his co-pilot about war crimes before takeoff, and hated to see anyone who was harmed by their own fellow men.

"Yeah, it is pretty bad, but us 'boots on the ground' guys get used to it." Wilson responded, trying to keep the pilot focused. "Let's get these guys behind that bar before the Somalis overrun the chopper."

As if by magic, the chopper gets lit up like a Christmas tree right when Wilson finishes his sentence.

POP POP POP POP POP POP KRAK POP POP

"Shit!" The pilot exclaims, quickly running behind the bar.

"I'll be fine carrying these two by myself, thanks for asking." Wilson said Jokingly.

"Hey, you were fine carrying them by yourself earlier!" The pilot yelled. "ah ain't havin' that shit!" he joked, putting on a southern accent.

"Neither am I." Wilson chuckled as he put the Two marines against the bar. "I'll have two beers instead!"

"Ugh..." Laskins groaned as he came to. "Yawn... where am I."

"You're in heaven sweet child! Where people shit rainbows and beer is free!" Wilson joked, wondering when Laskins would figure it out.

"Ugh... fuck you Wilson." Laskins sulked "I thought beer was actually free for a second."

Wilson and the pilot both laughed at the now slightly pissed marine before hearing at least 3 people entering the bar.

"Raadi ameriga iyo qaadashada noolow!"

"What did he say?" Wilson whispered to Laskins, knowing he knew a little Somali.

"Something about finding us, he talked to fast for me to get the rest!" Laskins whisper-yelled.

"Lets try to get up to the living area, there might be a radio there" the pilot whispered

Wilson looked over the bar. "It looks like the coast is clear" he said "Laskins you take point, pilot take the rear."

"I have a name dick" the pilot said while rolling his eyes.

"Ok..." Wilson quietly said while looking at his name tag "Cpl. Smalls!"

"More like Cpl. Small-balls." Laskins joked. Eliciting a sigh from smalls and a chuckle from Wilson.

"Alright, lets go Cpl. Ass-skins." smalls retorted making Wilson chuckle harder.

The two conscious marines made it up the stairs with their unconscious brother while the pilot defended the stairwell.

They spotted a Somali smoking at the top of the stairs and Laskins pulled out his combat knife. He turned it to be held in a reverse grip.

When Laskins was halfway up the Stairs the Somali turned around and shot Laskins twice...

POP POP

Before the Somalis gun jammed and Laskins could bring up his side arm and...

KRAK

Drop the Somali cleanly. before blacking out in front of the door to the living room.

"Shit!" Smalls screamed before backing up the stairs while firing.

KRAK KRAK KRAK KRAK KRAK

"Wilson! two hostile contacts down!" Smalls screamed, running up the stairs.

"Good! Now help me get these two dead weights up the stairs!"

"I'm not a dead wight anymore!" Baker yelled. "Those gunshots woke up my sleeping beauty ass!"

"Excellent! Now lets get Laskins up the stairs" Wilson said, while Baker helped carry Laskins up the stairs.

The living room was a fairly simple one, with a bed, large locker, kitchen, table, and bedroll.

"Wilson, lets get Laskins on the table!"

"Ok Baker, me and the pilot over there will guard-" Wilson stopped before hearing sobbing, coming from the locker. "Shh, I'm gonna check the locker."

Wilson raised his rifle and slowly reached for the handle, and opened the locker with a click.

"Eep!"

Wilson slowly opened up the locker to find a shivering yellow pony, with pink hair covering one of its eyes.

"P-p-p-please don't-t h-hurt m-me!"

Author's Note

This is my first story that I mean to take seriously, Please tell me what I can do to make it better (because I know I can). Thanks for reading!