Thorn 5- Line In The Sand

"LET'S MOVE! GO! GO! GO!" Seller shouted, followed by the Chief Petty Officer.

We had finally arrived off the coast of the United Kingdom, moving up from Wales to London. The doors flew open, and I looked at the sea, almost two hundred feet down. I trained for this repeatedly during SQT, except with less war and less death. No pressure, as always.

"HOLD!" The Chief yelled, holding up a clenched fist.

What the hell?

I had a few questions, but didn't get to answer them. The speaker buzzed loudly, making my spine tingle as Seller glanced toward the intercom.

"I can't get lower! There are people with RPGs on the rooftops!"

Seller looked at us all before turning to the Chief. "Ethan, it's your call! Do we blow this bitch?"

Ethan glanced around, looking at us while most started standing up. I looked around with him, spotting a man on the rooftop holding a FIM-92 Stinger, a glorified rocket launcher.

Well, the good news is they're using American-made weapons. Pretty sure that's the bad news too.

"Let's go! Hit the sea! MOVE!" The second Ethan finished the sentence, the plane lurched, sending me through the door and spiraling through the air. 

I flipped a few times, grasping at my parachute, but couldn't get a good hold on it. Wind whipped my face as I tumbled over, finally getting a decent grip on my ripcord. 

I pulled hard, still spiraling, but it didn't deploy. You know, I think that would have been a bad idea anyway! 

I splashed into the water, slamming with a force beyond anything else in training, and sank while gasping for air, yet only water came in. Come on, Alan! Get your shit together!

I propelled myself upward with my legs, sending myself out of the water as gunfire rained down around me. I swam hard to get to shore, throwing down my M4A1 Carbine and returning fire as much as possible with my KRISS Vector, but I could barely see anything from the water in my eyes.

"ON YOUR RIGHT! MOVE!"

I dived to the left, narrowly avoiding a spur of gunfire as my body tumbled down the dunes and slammed me into the ground. I landed hard, spit spurring from my body as I clutched my ribcage and stood back up.

Cliffs towered above me, rock falling as bullets ricocheted around. Other soldiers, the marines and a few SEALs, were taking the fight further up, but they were getting pinned down just as fast.

Seller shouted something from above a ridge, using a large boulder for cover while Ethan returned fire from a small, v-shaped neck in the rock. Perfect for a sniper, sure, but he was using a Submachine gun.

Fuck, I need to get up. 

My breathing was ragged as I dragged forward, moving behind a large lock and staying there as bullets rained around us. I could see water higher up, I hadn't landed on the beach after all, it was a large pond, but I sure as shit fell to the beach.

"OPEN YOUR EYES! COME ON!" A marine yelled far above me as gunfire split his chest in half, sending him and the body he was clutching so desperately down past me and into the water.

I clutched my gun tighter, unclipping my Glock just in case, not that it would help me at the moment since we were all pinned down by the Russians. Seller rounded the boulder, dumping half a magazine from her MK48, a lightweight machine gun, into the advancing guard.

"Ethan! Cover me!" I shouted, running up the hill, past the sand, and diving behind another boulder. He nodded, understanding that I was going to press forward to free their position more.

I ran faster than I ever had during training, my boots sliding against the wet rock, but I kept moving. The incline was getting less steep as I was going, but soldiers holding AK-12s marched out, gunning toward me while Ethan narrowly took out a few. 

"Alan! Pull back!" Seller shouted, her gun blasting behind me as more soldiers fell. 

I slid against the rock, turning my body enough to slide slightly, and took cover just below a cliff edge. The rock above kept it sturdy enough, and since it wasn't a huge incline, I didn't have to do much other than dig my boots below and hold on while the soldiers looked for me.

Seller and Ethan both shot down soldiers as they were coming, causing bodies to slide down the cliff. The marines at the bottom were taking cover, barely firing back while holding on. 

My heart rate sped up, thumping loudly in my chest as more soldiers came. We didn't have the ammo on us for a full-scale assault.

We were supposed to be backed up by British soldiers and Irish forces, so where the hell were they?

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I left the cover and fired above me. I dropped the empty mag and slammed a new one into the chamber, firing as I gradually got closer and closer to flat ground.

The second before I broke through, gunfire above us ceased. The soldiers were still aimed in our direction, but they were backing up, pulling back. 

"Seller! Ethan!" I didn't have to yell; they had already gotten the gist of the situation and ran up to join my side, followed by the marines and a few Sergeants. 

"Listen to me right fucking now, Andrews. You pull that shit again and I'll leave your ass, you got me?" Seller asked, stabbing me in the chest with her finger. 

Was it reckless? Absolutely. But it got the job done, fewer people died than if we had stayed lower, so why the hell was she mad? I was saving lives.

I didn't say that, though. Instead, I just nodded while we moved forward, our guns trained on the rooftops of the small town and the streets. 

"This is where we split off, team Beta, Gamma, you know your jobs already. Lead the marines and recapture Wales through London. Alpha, you're with me, stay close and don't fuck up."

As soon as Seller finished her orders, I felt a pair of eyes on me. My spine tingled, the taste of iron and seawater left my tongue, the pain flowing through my ribs ended, and I met the gray eyes of a man on one of the rooftops. He was holding the Stinger.

"EVERYBODY GET THE FUCK DOWN!" 

I dove forward, taking down Seller and Ethan while the rocket went slightly past us, blowing up against the rock. I rolled over, taking a breath as gunfire sounded around us. 

It didn't take long for me to get up, maybe one or two seconds, and I quickly returned fire with the rest of the Marines and SEALs. Seller and Ethan joined not even a second after and nodded toward me.

They ran across from me, firing towards the mass of soldiers who had reappeared on the streets, while I ran for the rusty ladder on the side of one of the buildings. We had spotted seven men on the roofs with rocket launchers before we left the helicopter; we just took out one; that meant there were six left. Lovely odds.

"I'm moving up!" I shouted, getting a nod from Ethan as he covered my rear. 

Bodies dropped around me as Russians and Marines alike dropped one by one. A Russian died right behind me as I grabbed onto the ladder and hoisted myself up.

Seller looked toward me, still firing at the onslaught of bouncing guns charging toward us, and held up five fingers. So there are five left now, not six, sounds doable.

A bullet swung past me, so close I could smell the flames that had just ejected it from the chamber, and I climbed another rung toward the roof. 

"Alan, you got hostiles up there, I think around ten, we're pinned down here." Ethan's voice came over the radio as I finally reached the roof and saw a man with an AK-47 pointed toward me. 

I didn't waste time replying, I dove to the side and opened fire across his chest with my Vector. I flipped my switch, dropping the newly emptied magazine, and slammed another one in with my fist.

I spotted another man with a mortar launcher, hidden behind a large chimney. He hadn't seen me yet, but was looking around for someone. Quickly, my hands flipped my Vector around and pulled my Carbine from its sling.

I propped myself up against the thin metal cover and took my shot. The bullet ripped out of my Carbine, sending a hard crunch through my shoulder, and I watched as his body flipped over with a new red fashion accessory where his mouth had just been. 

Another soldier looked around for me, gunning toward the street as bullets ripped from his gun, an AK-74. I shot him too, straight in the chest, and watched as he tumbled over the ledge.

The rest of them came out of hiding, two more guys with rocket launchers, and they fell just as fast. Around five extra soldiers, each holding an oddly-shaped rifle that fired faster than a traditional sniper, looked for me in an X-formation. They didn't survive much longer.

I had a good view from the rooftop, one more man was left holding an RPG, but Seller was already taking care of him. A large sea of red fell from his face and chest as he fell back, and the rocket exploded inside the chamber.

"Rooftops are clear, I repeat, rooftops are clear. Let me get a status on the streets." I said into the comms, they whirred slightly, before Ethan's voice echoed back.

"Copy that, soldier. The streets are clear. Meet back down by the yellow apartment building to the east, that's where we're headed to regroup."

"Roger, thanks for the assist."

I got down to the ground pretty fast and had my first real look around at the state of the place. 

Fire rained from the buildings, dropping against the ground and splintering out. Rocks fell from crumbled roofs, most homes were destroyed, leaving behind vaguely L-shaped scars.

The streets were littered with bodies, ashes, guns, even cracks and fire. It looked more like a dystopian sci-fi apocalyptic war had taken place, rather less a recaptured land. 

I could see a soldier running toward me in the distance, through the streets, as he paused. He looked at me, then started to high-tail it, dropping his rifle. The place where the rifle fell was also his final resting place.

Buildings crumbled around me as I continued forward, closer to the east. The blood on the road became less as I went on, but the scent of decay, of burning, sizzling, only got stronger. 

Not even a full minute passed before I saw why. Thousands of bodies were piled atop one another, burning at full brightness as the flames crackled. They weren't Russian bodies, they were the bodies of innocent people, and as a teddy bear doll burned up in the middle, I walked faster.

A few minutes later, I finally arrived at the temporary checkpoint, or I guess base. It wasn't huge, but a three-story apartment building with twenty-one rooms on each floor was better than none.

"Dude, you kicked ass!" A marine patted me on the back as I kept going forward. I didn't bother smiling toward him; he was the soldier cowering by the beach as we went in, and it showed more than any look he could give me.

"Thanks," I responded, continuing forward until I spotted Ethan, who was shaking his head and talking to Seller by a small table in some sort of lobby.

"Alan, I need your opinion on this," Ethan called out, dragging me to see the map of Wales. "Tell her I'm right, this isn't a good place to defend."

I took a look at the map, scanning past the cities and restaurants it laid out, before my eyes stopped on one of the historic castles. Castell Dinefwr.

"What if we rest here tonight and move to Castell Dinefwr in the morning? It'll take a good portion of the day, but it'll be easier to defend than this since most around it is flat plains and not a whole city."

Seller and Ethan both looked at me in shock, Ethan's mouth a bit open, before he mumbled something just loud enough for me to hear. "Well, shit. Not bad."

"He has a point, it'd be best to rest tonight and move for a better fortified position, even if that is a castle," Seller explained, rolling the map back up and giving me a confused look.

"Was what I said that confusing?" I questioned, staring at both of them.

"No, not at all. You said something neither of us had even considered. If we spread out soldiers among these lines, we should be able to occupy all of Wales in a few days, maybe even less than a week," Seller answered, moving further into the building before letting me say anything else.

Guess I did well enough. I ended that thought pretty fast as I wiped the smudges of blood off my black plate carrier. 

I made my way upstairs, stopping briefly as I watched the marines by the cliff die over and over in my mind. The way his intestines hung on and were blown apart, the way his blood soaked the stone, and the way his body crumbled and fell like a crumbled paper ball. 

Sweat formed on my brow, but I quickly wiped it off and continued forward. I was a soldier, this wasn't something that should affect me. Yet I heard his screams echo in my head on repeat.

My leg kicked open a random door, and I stepped inside. Most of the inn or apartment, whatever the place was, was empty. That was good for me, because I needed a shower and to wash all the ash off my face.

I set my gear up on the sink, turned the shower to the hottest temperature, and stepped inside. One of the many things I got from going through SEAL training is a major hatred of anything cold, although I can stand it, it doesn't mean I'll want to.

Steam and water traced the muscles of my shoulder, falling into the drain as my gunshot wound from the other fight healed a bit more, now mostly a scab, albeit a big one. 

I wiped the water over my face, scrubbing every inch of my body as I heard his screams again, and then I saw Dan being burned to a crisp, just like before. 

My leg slipped, but I caught myself, opening my eyes and splashing the water against my face over and over. Scars coated most of my legs and feet, along with my shoulders, most from training. 

I turned off the water and stepped out, about to get dressed back in my combat gear, before I spotted a knife through a crack in one of the drawers.

My eyes stayed locked onto it, the blade glistening with the combination of light and steam. I opened the drawer a bit wider and picked it up, feeling the weight in my hands, nice, stable, sturdy, and it felt right in my palm.

Thoughts flooded my mind again, before settling on one. For every soldier I fail to save. I drove the knife across my chest three times, three tally marks, two for the marines and one for Dan. They weren't deep, just enough to remind me they were there. It would be my burden to carry.

Footsteps came from the hall as I put on my armor and propped my M4A1 Carbine to my shoulder, aiming for the bathroom door.

A knock sounded, before a voice spoke out. "Alan, listen, man, someone told me you were in here. I need to tell you about something."

I opened the door, setting my Carbine to the ground and flipping the safety back on. Ethan stood face to face with me, although he was shorter than I thought. He stood maybe five feet seven, possibly eight inches.

"What's the matter?" I asked, stepping out and walking out the door with him.

"Some fuckfaced marine tried to catch Acting Captain Seller while she was in the shower. Look, he failed, she was fully dressed still, but she's fucking pissed and so am I. I need you to do me a favor."

I didn't need him to finish his ask as my face heated up. "Let me get his location right now."

Ethan looked at me a bit surprised, but nodded quickly. "Yeah, that was the favor. He's on guard duty all night."

"Roger that," I answered, stepping ahead while Ethan remained behind. 

As a superior, there were limits to what he could do, but if someone else were to, hypothetically, beat the shit out of someone, the highest command present would be told and judge accordingly. While normally, that would be Seller, it would wind up being Ethan because of personal bias.

I found him pretty fast, he was shaking in his boots, carrying a standard M27 IAR. Oddly enough, or not exactly odd if he did that right after watching people die, it was the same person who patted me on the back when I entered.

A few other marines looked at me as I towered over him; they got the memo pretty quickly, probably already having heard what happened. 

My hand slammed onto the soldier's shoulder, and I ripped him backward. He flew back, slamming against a pile of rubble as I stopped hard on his foot. 

He let out a cry of pain as my boot found a nice solace in his chest. I wasn't hitting hard enough to permanently injure or maim him, not even enough to leave anything other than a nice purple bruise. He'd be completely fit for combat after this, although it'd hurt like a bitch.

"S-Stop!" He cried out, but I picked him up by the scruff of his neck and lifted him to my eye level.

"I'm sure someone else would have said that if you had your way, huh?" 

I threw him hard, a bit harder than I meant to, but nobody, not even his captain, stepped in to help him. Every last one of them knew what was going on, and the decision was unanimous; this was his punishment, not theirs.

"If I even see you one more fucking time, if you even glance at anyone, and it you even fucking breathe the same air as another female, I will break every goddamn bone you have. Am I clear?" 

He nodded repeatedly, falling to the ground as I turned around and walked back, my heart and chest aching with a similar stabbing pain. The tendrils around my heart were developing more, sending another spike through me.

I saw Seller when I entered, standing at a table, her face red with anger.

"Hey." I pulled up a chair for her as we both sat down and looked at each other.

"Fuck do you want, Alan?" She questioned, glaring so hard at me I could swear she was reading my past, present, and future.

"I'm checking on my Captain, or is that frowned upon?" 

Her face lightened a bit, although I wasn't sure if she was just calming down or if I cheered her up a little.

"I'm fine, you should get ready for tomorrow, it's a long way from here."

"You see, I wish I could, but then who would I drink the 1960s bourbon I found with?"

"Bullshit, you hate alcohol."

"Yeah, you caught me."

We stared at each other in silence, before I pulled out the map we brought with us earlier, a small version of the world map.

She looked at me, slightly confused as I unfurrowed it and laid it across the table, using cups and candles to hold the corners down and make it straight.

"I thought of something pretty odd while we were on the plane earlier, but I'm pretty shit at history, mind giving me a hand?" I asked, standing up, and surprisingly, she nodded and stood up too, as we both looked further down in Europe.

I pointed toward Japan and drew a line with a thin pencil I grabbed earlier to a small collection of islands quite a ways from the shore.

"How long have South Korea and Japan been at odds?" I asked, circling South Korea and Japan.

"Since 1910, what does that matter?"

"It matters everything, look over here," I redrew the line toward the islands again, this time writing Mariana Islands just above them, then labeling them Guam, Tinian, and Saipan only.

"Japan and South Korea retreated to the Mariana Islands together, right? But they've been at odds for over one hundred years. Not only that, they retreated to Islands that Japan used to be in control of, which they lost control of in the battle of Guam in 1944. Has Japan ever given up or surrendered so quickly?"

Her expression lightened slightly, then got darker as she saw where I was going. "No, never," She muttered.

"Did either send troops to America so we could retake Europe after we were forced into the war?"

"...No."

"I think they're planning something after either Europe or America wins this war, specifically, I think they have a temporary truce until after one of us falls."

"Alan, you realize what you're saying, correct?"

I nodded as she stared at me, her green eyes trembling as he hands rested atop the map. 

"I'll relay this back, if you're right, and I'm not saying you are, this is a serious issue. For now, rest up, tomorrow we move to Castell Dinefwr."