Warning: Everything in this story is my imagination, and I am sorry for the grammatical mistakes because English is not my first language.

Pic of Avalina the girl Blade saved.

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*~Women's eyes have pierced more hearts than ever did the bullets of war! ~*

Even though the bed was smaller for my huge size, the comfort and luxury it gifted were wondrous. My body yearned for more rest and my head howled to rest on a soft pillow. It has been six hours since Troy and I rested while others in our team were...I don't know what they were doing because I was sleeping.

I rubbed my hands down my face and yawned like a pathetic lion. My eyes tingled a little from lack of sleep. I sat straight and looked around the tent with my right eye shut. There were only a few soldiers who rested on their bunk beds. I was sure they had just returned from their arduous and wearisome missions. I looked up at the weight on the bed on top of mine, which indicated Troy was still asleep.

I yawned like a bear again and cranked my neck. Threw my legs over the bed and stood up to my full height. Now that I stood I rubbed my neck and stared at Troy lying there. His right leg dangled from the side of the bed and he snored like he freaking owned this place. I glanced at my watch to find out it was 14:00 pm.

"Troy I am off to take a shower, rest time is about to end," I shook his body like always because my voice wasn't enough to wake him up.

He grunted in response and I took that as a sign to leave the tent. Sunshine hit my eyes and I blinked a few times to adjust the light. The world was already up, soldiers moved around getting ready to depart. Somehow it reminded me of ants how they scurried around and followed what their queen had ordered them, but we did not have queens here, more like big fearless bulls.

We had returned back to Base after the little scene with the girl. Troy and I were ordered to get some slumber and trust me, I almost dashed to bed. Every limb in my form was in agony and entreated for some well-earned rest.

Once I was done with the shower I literally kicked Troy so that he would wake up. I hung my rifle over my shoulder and left the tent to meet Zach. On my way there to locate our team leader I saw Carlos, who smiled up at me, "Good morning," he teased.

"Afternoon," I kept walking, " What are you up to?" I asked him.

"Just following orders. Are you going to see Zach?" Carlos asked once he matched my footsteps. I responded with a nod. "He left for the refugee camp with Colonel an hour ago, don't ask me why. Seems like something is up," he said, interested.

"Okay," I told him with a slight frown. Why was Zach there and with Colonel? "When exactly are we leaving?" I questioned him, as we turned around a corner.

"After about two hours, Zach will be here and then we are off," Carlos informed. I hummed in reply as we stopped and waited for Troy to catch up with us. After fifteen minutes, he arrived and we made our way towards the refugee camp, while Carlos stayed behind to follow the orders he was given.

"Why did Colonel and Zach go to meet her?" Troy inquired.

I glanced at him sideways. "Zach was involved because we, his team comrades were the ones who kicked Lee's backside, so it was wise to let him know why his team stayed behind for another day instead of moving. As for Colonel, I think he went to be certain the girl is fine," I  told him the same thing I had been thinking since Carlos filled in.

"We have an hour left before moving. I want to find out what happened there since we left," Troy said and inched his rifle closer to his chest.

We sauntered into the camp, refugees were engaged in their daily life activities. Children who had no idea their lives were destroyed played around the tents, some even played in the mud puddles caused by the furious rain. Troy ruffled a young boy's hair who darted past him in a tent.

It was obvious we all like children so did Troy. He cared too much for him, so much that his death had shattered Troy into pieces. By him, I mean Troy's younger brother, Nicolas. He was murdered by some tugs at the age of six.

We were only seventeen years old, and that day Nicolas had desired to come along with us to play basketball. With Troy's big heart he couldn't say no. Just like every other day our friends divided into groups and started playing while Nicolas sat on a bench and cheered for his brother who was my opponent.

Suddenly like an uninvited guest, fireworks pierced the air, and shock, and agitation spread in our bodies. Time had stilled as I just stood for the bullets to shower on us. Other boys endeavored to escape and I searched around for Troy, disregarding that very moment someone has pointed his gun at me and fired before the bullet could pierce my skin. I was shoved back with force and my head had hit the cement ground hard.   

Troy was the one who had propelled me, his body fell on top of mine to prevent himself from getting shot. Everything had gone silent, hearing gunshots back then was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I couldn't shake the fear that had swelled in my body for a few good minutes.

Troy had then pushed himself off of me and ran for someone. I remember I winced at the pain in my skill but sat up, only to see Troy squatting over someone.

That was the moment I regret the most in my life. Nicolas drenched in blood had changed the serene look in Troy's eyes into a rage and unfathomable pain. What was worse his older brother had left Troy and his mother after two days after Nick's funeral. Troy was mentally tormented and that was when I decided to make a decision. After only five months I turned eighteen and stepped on the path my father had made and Troy had agreed. Because the raging wrath in his heart would have led him to commit crimes he knew he would regret in life.

I shook myself from the past as we kept walking towards the medic tent.

"Seems like you remembered something from the past," Troy commented.

I gave him a muddled look as we neared the tent. "How do you?" I conceded.

"There is always a look on your face when you remember a memory," he enunciated. I chuckled at him. Damn him and his skills of knowing me so well.

We walked into the tent and at once spotted Colonel, he sat on the chair I had sat on hours ago and Zach stood a few feet away from him. Troy and I halted where Zach stood. He looked at us with hoisted eyebrows and we simply give him a quick nod, then looked back at Colonel.

He had the girl's small, frail hand in his huge one and rubbed circles on the pale skin. The man knew how to tackle demoralized girls because of his own daughter. Colonel conversed in a hushed voice, I was not at all interested in his words, I stared at the girl. I didn't see her utter a word, she merely stared at him.

"Do you think she is mute?" Troy whispered after what felt like an eternity. I gave him a "Are you serious" look. He shrugged. "Look at her, she is not saying a word, all she does is give short nods," he murmured. A deep frown made its way to my face.

Come to think of it, since we have saved her, the girl has not spoken a word. She had only screamed. A lump burned my throat and I licked my lips. Suddenly I felt exceedingly apprehensive, there were sentiments I didn't comprehend and they pissed me off. She cannot be mute!

I polished off the frown from my face when Fiona looked at us. She rolled her eyes and marched where we stood. Here we go!

"What are you two doing here? The colonel said no one is to come here," she whisper yelled. Troy grinned at her. I knew he was going to fire one of his comebacks in front of Zach, so I cut in.

"We were here to make sure the patient is well," I said, grabbed Troy's arm, and dragged him a few feet away from them.

"What was that?"

"I don't want to be kicked out of here," he clenched his jaw at me but did not vocalize another word.

I observed as Colonel talked to her for a long time and her lips didn't move. The girl really couldn't talk! It made me furious more than it should. She could be aphonic, there are chances for that, it is usually caused by an injury or illness but she can't be mute!

I had to make sure the girl is not mute before I leave this place.

When Colonel was done with the conversation he gave the girl's shoulder a pat, a tender fatherly pat, and walked back to Zach, who saluted for him and followed Colonel towards the tent flap. They ceased their movement when he saw us. We saluted him and greeted him an 'Afternoon'

"What are you two doing here soldiers?" He demanded.

"Checking on the patient, sir," I responded, my body stiff in attention.

"The girl is fine. Move soldiers, your team goes in one hour!" he commanded harshly, all the softness I had witnessed a minute ago evaporated.

I watched them leave the tent, sure I would obey his orders but not before I do what I had planned. I walked to the bed, where she sat, head bowed. I was anxious she might start screaming again. Troy followed close behind me I knew he thought the same thing, that we might frighten her.

When we stopped at her bed, both Fiona and the girl with green eyes looked up at us, her eyes went wide and Fiona glared at us.

"I am here to make sure she is okay," I spoke and pushed my rifle behind my back to hide it from view.

"As you can see she is extremely fine," Fiona argued.

"We want to hear that from the girl we saved," Troy butt in. Fiona exhaled melodramatically.

I looked down at her and passed a very small smile. I had no freaking intentions of terrifying the crap out of her. The girl was in clean, fresh clothes. The light blue cotton gown was loose, and her glossy brown hair cascaded down her left shoulder. She wasn't that pallid and the cut on her lip was better.

"I just wanted to make sure you are fine?" I announced eyes on her. There were no emotions at all. I needed her to say something, anything to make sure she was not mute. I had to prove Troy was wrong and this girl could talk. She gave a nod and dropped her gaze, just like that. Not even a single emotion crossed her eyes. And she didn't talk.

She couldn't speak!

I grit my teeth and stepped back to get the hell out of that place. I didn't understand why it vexed me that much, it was not at all okay with me that she couldn't speak. Was I hurt? Did I feel bad she couldn't communicate?

**

When we departed from the refugee camp, we had settled in a Hummer Humvee. Zach was apprised that our mission was to ambush a group of terrorists not far from here. Two teams were designated for this hazardous mission, ours and another. We all knew this shit was perilous, during the time we were here, we had come to learn that our enemies were highly trained and had the same skills that we possessed and developed over years.

This war was not just a terrorist attack, it was deeper. Their main purpose was to demolish West and make the government kiss their feet. One thing they were not aware of was that they had to go through us in order to achieve what they desired.

Edginess was dense in our Humvee. Our squad was the third team they sent to terminate those monsters and it was also to see if we will succeed because none of the soldiers before us had returned back from this mission. That was the reason every member felt furious. We were to drive and patrol, without raising alarm, and attack if possible ambush. We required luck, a whole lot of luck, to get there and get this over with.

I sat in the back of the Humvee, with my head leaned back and eyes closed. I thought about my sister. Man I missed her so much. An elbow nudged my hand and I opened my eyes to look at Mason.

"We are here," he announced and wore his helmet. I copied his moves as the back door opened. We soldiers stepped out of the Humvee. Zach, who drove got out with his rifle drawn, and Troy, who sat in the passenger seat, came to stand with us. We looked around for peril, waited for Zach's orders and they were given after few seconds.

Our team shadowed Zach who led us to a wall of a building; I couldn't really guess what the building was, through all that blood smeared on it. The weather was not with us today, it was windy. The wind after a while engulfed us in a small hurricane of its own. 

Zach signalled with hand signal for us to move. Troy, Mason and I parted from the group and proceeded towards the right side where another building stood. We drew our guns and looked out for danger. So far nothing, deserted street. Enraged wind blew rapidly and took dust particles with it. I glanced over at Zach, who was on the left side of the street, backed against a wall, almost twenty feet away from us.

I was the one who led the two men behind me, but not before I consulted matters with Zach. I could literally hear the tortured screams of our men who were assassinate here, a brutal, ruthless death. Their audacity haunted this street like a phantom, and the shadows of their souls touched us.

The faded sound of their guns that had once blazed reached my ears and my heart commenced to beat fast, not from terror, but from pure passion to eliminate souls and extreme perturbation.

"Lets saddle up boys," hollered Zach through the radio and we charged.

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