Tadhg

These last few weeks I'm finding it easier to stay focused in the field. The reconciliation with Duncan has alleviated the nightmares and I feel better than I have in a long time. Getting set up, I look at the weapon at my feet and pick it up. I've been putting in a lot of practice hours in with it in case I need to use it during a firefight.

The AT-4 weighs my arm down under the heat of the desert. I check my surroundings to make sure I am clear of all personnel and any equipment that might be in the vicinity. Seeing nothing obstructive, I get into the proper standing position, putting the gun on top of my shoulder, with the venturi sticking out behind me. I level my hips and make sure my weight is balanced between both of my feet. I pull my elbows in so they're close to my body, and turn slightly at the waist. I line up my eye about two and a half inches from the rear site, ensuring a proper visual on my target.

When I finish preparations, pointing the launcher in the right direction, I disengage the transport safety pin, pulling it outward and then releasing it. Pushing the cocking lever forward, I move it downward and to the right with my thumb. To ensure an accurate shot, I focus on controlling my breathing. I take a few deep breathes, and with my last, disengage the forward safety while holding some exhale back. I put the trapped air to use to help me sight steady, and then fire.

After pulling the trigger, all instinct takes over. Instead of the usual outcome however, I feel myself drop the AT-4 onto the desert ground. It hits with a heavy clunk, my useless body following afterwards.

Something...something is wrong...something...

My right hand races to my temple, holding on for dear life, my left arm laying uselessly in the dust. I feel the backlash of the explosion from the gun reverberating through my head. Without consciousness, I clumsily rip the helmet from my head with my right hand and it crashes into the sand.

I hear a distant moaning. On some level, I know it comes from my own throat, but at the same time, I feel no connection to it. An earthquake is tearing through me. I cannot control my movements. My body begins to shake all over. My eyes bulge and pain shoots through my muscles as they contract.

Later, they will tell me that I had a seizure but at the current moment, I'm unaware of my surroundings and myself. I have no control over my body or my thoughts. The world goes black as my brain recoils from the trauma of the blast.