SEAL Team Four: Missing In Action [Cancelled]

The group emerged from the forest, a strange sight to anypony who’s never seen a human before.

Twilight, still not knowing what to think about the ‘killing machines’, kept on lumbering along, paying no mind whatsoever to the gasps and frantic galloping around her as she entered the town. Locks clicked, doors slammed, tumbleweeds… tumbled. The entire town had looked like it was abandoned.

Twilight still paid no mind, and trudged along, not breaking pace, and staring straight ahead. A large tree soon came into view. All four men looked up in awe at it.

“Hol—“ Brandon started, but was silenced by a combat glove covering his mouth. John decided that he didn’t want to push Twilight over the edge after his impromptu speech.

When the group arrived at the tree, Twilight pushed open the door using her magic revealing a small library bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun. She continued upstairs, but paused at the last step.

“You sleep down here. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.”

The door slammed shut, and silence filled the library.

“Alright guys, I guess—we rest,” with that sentence, John took off his gear, and laid his head on his backpack, and fell asleep.

John awoke to glass shattering, and hitting the floor. He kept his eyes closed, so the intruder didn’t know he was awake.

Slowly, John reached for his G18 equipped with a tactical light, and his ACB-90. He flicked the safety off of the Glock, and held the pistol in his right, and knife in his left. He slowly rose to a crouched position, and moved over to where the sound was coming from.

He came to a door, and he heard more glass breaking behind it.

‘Shit, burglar. Should I go stealth, or not?’

He pondered this for a moment before he made his decision.

(Switch POV)

The burglar smashed his way through the window, and quietly, stepped inside.

‘Ok, ok, what is there to steal?’

He looked around the room he was standing in. It was a study, with a few bookshelves and a desk. He softly tiptoed (tiphoofed?) around the room looking for something interesting.

‘A bookshelf, nah—bits wouldn’t be hidden there.’

He made his way over to the desk, his dark gray coat blending with the shadows. He looked over the top of the desk, knocking stuff away, trying to find his prize. Suddenly, he put a little too much force on moving an empty glass inkwell, and it fell off of the desk, and smashing to pieces on the ground below it.

‘Horseapples, I gotta be more careful.’

He went through a few more drawers, nothing catching his attention, until he opened the last drawer. In it was a box marked ‘Emergency Bits’.

‘Good, I found what I was looking for.’

The burglar carefully avoided the broken glass, and was about to step out the window when he felt his mouth being covered by a rough fabric, and a knife being pressed to his neck.

He then heard a rough voice, one that sounded like it wanted nothing more than to kill him.

“Now you listen here,” John whispered. “You have five seconds to give me everything you stole, and never come back, or I will slit your throat on the spot. Five.”

He frantically tried to break free.

“Four.”

He tried even harder, but to no avail.

“Three.”

He decided that he should give everything up.

“Two.”

He dug through his saddlebags, frantically trying to get them off.

“One.”

He felt the knife slowly start to slide across his throat, the blade pressing into his fur.

‘This is the end of me…’

Suddenly, the clasp loosened, and he relieved the weight from his back. The grip on him instantly loosened, and he scrambled out the window, the shards scraping his skin.

The sun peaked over the mountains, its beautiful light shining through the windows of the library. Brandon, Griffin and Cooper awoke from their sleep, and sat up, rubbing away the sleep from their eyes.

“Best fuckin’ sleep since I got a vacation off,” exclaimed Cooper.

“I second that bro,” agreed Griffin.

Brandon simply just yawned.

“Hey, anybody seen John?”

The men staggered forwards, looking for their comrade. They walked through a doorway, and found him it the kitchen, his M4 dissembled and miniature gun cleaning kit out. They watched as he lubricated the bolt carrier, and then assemble it. He put it back in the carbine, and closed the top half and securing it in place.

“Mornin’,” he said as he started to take apart his pistol, and clean it also.

“Ah nothing. Why are you up so early?” asked Brandon.

“Some dumbass tried to rob the place last night. I didn’t even show him my bad side, and he went runnin’.”

“How come we didn’t hear it?”

John continued cleaning his sidearm.

“I’m a light sleeper. Always alert.”

Before Brandon could say anymore, he heard the clopping of hooves on wood, and sure enough, the purple pony came through the doorway.

“Mornin’,” she muttered before searching for the materials to make coffee. John saw what she was making, and asked if he could have some.

“Sure, how’d you like it?”

“Black.”

She cringed at the thought of drinking black coffee, but she made it anyways.

“Here,” she use her magic to hand him the coffee.

“Thanks,” he replied, before sipping his coffee.

“So uh Twilight,” John started. “A burglar broke it last night.”

“Oh yeah, that’s nice, a burglar broke in…” she took a sip of her coffee.

Her eyes grew wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She spat out her coffee, making a light brown mist.

“A BURGLAR BROKE IN?!” she yelled.

“Whoa, calm down,” John held his hands in the air, trying to get her to calm down. “I took care of it. There’s just a mess and some broken glass, no need to worry about it.”

“Wait,” she glared suspiciously at John. “How did you take care of it?”

“I just threatened him to return your things and leave, I didn’t kill the bastard.”

She wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Well that’s a relief, I thought you killed him.”

John looked Twilight in the eyes.

“I don’t kill for fun. I kill only when I need to.” Even though he had a poker face that could rival Celestia’s, his eyes betrayed him. He looked like he had seen some things he had never wanted to see.

~~~

The trucks rumbled through the small Iraqi village, kicking up dust left and right.

“This is Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, how copy, over?”

Victor reached for the radio.

“This is Misfit Three Two to Misfit Actual, solid copy. We’re nearing the objective. Just four more klicks, over.”

“Misfit Actual to Misfit Three, you know your role, out.”

Victor hooked the microphone back on the hook of the Humvee’s radio.

“You guys ready to kick some ass?” Victor turned to face the two men in the back.

John and Jericho just nodded.

Victor was about to turn back around when the driver shouted out.

“RPG!”

The Rocket Propelled Grenade hit the first vehicle of the convoy, blowing it to scrap. The driver swerved the HMMWV around the hunk of metal, and through the dust. As the vehicle emerged, an explosion rocked the Humvee, tipping it on its side.

“Get out! Fucking ambush!” shouted Victor.

The five men crawled out of the useless vehicle, and fell to the ground, doing a somersault before standing upright, weapons drawn.

Around them was chaos.

Bullets and RPGs were streaking through the air. Explosions were rocking the ground. Soldiers were dying around them.

Suddenly, Jericho’s head exploded.

“Fucking move! Sniper!” shouted Victor. Misfit Three entered the nearest building, weapons raised.

“Clear the rooms!”

The men went through every room, checking for hostiles.

Once the rooms were clear, they all met up back in the main room.

“Ok!” started Victor. “We’re in some pretty deep shit right about now! We need to—“ he suddenly was silenced as the blade of a knife plunged through his neck. His body fell limp to the ground, blood pooling around his now lifeless body.

Standing where he was, was an Iraqi man, the white turban on his head stained with blood and riddled with bullet holes. He raised up his rusted AK-47, and pulled the trigger. The former gunner of the Humvee fell to the ground, lifeless. It was now only John and the driver.

The man shouted something unrecognizable, but it died in his throat as John pulled the trigger on his M16.

“Goddammit. We’ve lost three men, and it hasn’t been five minutes. You know what, that’s it, I’m breaking radio silence.”

John pulled the mic near his mouth, and pressed the ‘TALK’ button.

“Misfit Three Three to Misfit Actual, our situation has gone FUBAR! We got ambushed three klicks from the objective, we need air support now!”

“Misfit Actual to Misfit Three Three, we’re sending air support from the nearest FOB. Standby, out.”

Suddenly, another figure burst through the door, but this one was a lot smaller. The driver saw that it was a child, and moved forwards to welcome him in a hug, but John was a little more observant. It the child’s right hand was a piece of metal, shaped like a detonator.

“Shit! Get down!”

John dove sideways as the child squeezed the detonator. The explosion rocked the whole building, and he was blasted backwards.

“Fucking bitches sending children!” he shouted angrily as he moved a slab of concrete off of him. He looked around for his M16, and found it a few meters away. He picked it up, and pulled back halfway on the charging handle to make sure there was a bullet chambered. He shouldered the rifle, and started to head back outside, when he heard the thumping of helicopter blades.

He looked outside, and was relieved to see two AH-6 Littlebirds making gun runs on the village. After waiting a few minutes, the impact of Hydra rockets stopped, and John assumed with was safe. He opened the door, rifle drawn, and looked up and down the street. He went out a little further, and to his relief, saw a MH-60 Blackhawk hovering a few inches above the street. The Air Force PJs were loading several wounded into the chopper.

John made a break for it. The helicopter was a few more meters away.

“Hey!” he shouted to get the attention of the crew. “Got any room to spare?”

The PJ gave a thumbs up, and waved him in.

~~~

“John? John! JOHN!”

John shook his head.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You just froze, staring off into space,” exclaimed Twilight.

“Sorry,” said John. “I just had this really bad memory…”

“Ok, I'm glad you're alright. Anyways, we’re going to see the princess in Canterlot. I sent her letter and I’m sure she’ll want to meet you.

“Ok, I guess that’s good. C’mon men, suit up,” said John as he walked off to ready his gear.

The Friendship Express chugged up the mountain, en route to Canterlot.

“So, uh, John. Can you tell me about the metal thing you have in your hand that killed the manticore?” she asked.

“Well, as you know already, it can kill very quickly. It fires at about 800 rounds per minute.”

John ejected the magazine, and took a bullet out.

“This,” he handed Twilight the bullet. “Is the real killer. It’s a standard 5.56 NATO round. The gun doesn’t kill, it’s the bullet. He watched as she instantly dropped it, moving as far away from it as possible.

John gave a few chuckles.

“The bullet is not effective without the gun. You see this here,” John disassembled the rifle, and showed her the firing pin. “This metal rod, the firing pin, jams into a little circle in the back of the bullet, igniting to powder, propelling the actual bullet,” he pointed out the top of the bullet.

“Oh, I get it now!” she exclaimed. “It’s kind of like the muskets the Royal Guards are experimenting with.

“Yeah, only these are much more powerful.”

The train soon arrived at Canterlot station. Twilight, John, Brandon, Griffin, and Cooper stepped off of the train, and headed towards the castle.