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𝟎𝟎𝟐 ― august 12th

THE LACK of moonlight isn't lost on Ellie as she exits her tent, clad in her tactical gear. Her helmet and black balaclava are in her hands while her weapon is in the other. Something about the dark sends a shiver down her spine. And it's not the August air.

She walks up to the group of men standing by the cargo trucks, Phillip speaking to them about the updates on our allies. His eyes go to her and a ghost of a smile crosses his face.

"Commander," she greets, nodding to him.

"Agent Miller. You're looking well rested." A hint of mischief in his eyes.

Ellie deadpans. "I wish I could say the same about you, sir." She sends him a wink and he laughs.

Turning to the transport team, Phillip speaks up. "Shadow Company! Mask up and listen up! As you can see, there are only 21 of you here and seven trucks so I want three operators per vehicle. The rest of the group is back at base. Our friends in Al Mazrah are getting hit so we needed to be as covert as possible with this supply run. We don't need too much attention on ourselves. Got it, soldiers?"

They all nod in agreement.

"Mission is so simple, I could do it with my eyes closed. Drive the trucks to the coordinates and let them handle the rest. They have a van waiting to carry you guys back to me." His hand goes to his chest as he smiles. "I can't wait to see all of your beautiful faces again. Be easy driving, okay? Don't need their toilet paper getting bruised up."

Laughs ring throughout the group and Ellie fights the urge to roll her eyes. Phillip dismisses them and meets her gaze, nodding his head for her to meet with him to the side.

"I want you with Dipaolo. Truck three. Keep the rest of the boys in line." He sighs and adds, "Don't rile any of them up, okay?"

She puts her hand over her heart in feigned hurt. "Me?" she asks sarcastically. "I don't rile anyone up. Ever!"

Phillip nods. "I'm pretty sure you've taken off ten years of my life by how much stress you've given me. I don't have these few gray hairs because I'm old. I think the first one grew when we met in the sixth grade."

"You sissy. Why don't you go cruise on to the base and paint your nails?"

He punches Ellie in the shoulder as they go their separate ways. Dipaolo has the back door open for her and she thanks him as she climbs in. Erikson, a fellow member, gets in the driver's seat with them. Before she can blink, they're rolling. No moonlight to shine on them. Just the light from the headlights as they jostle down the gravel road before they finally hit the highway, passing trees and decimated towns from the ruins of war.

Ellie fights back a yawn as she shifts the balaclava on her face, suddenly General Shepherd and Commander Graves come over the radio and talk to the company, telling them the allies are waiting on us. Dipaolo looks over to Erikson as they drive. Ellie watches their arrow move on the GPS coordinates.

"What are we carrying this time, Graves?" he asks over the radio. Ellie doesn't miss the look Erikson makes.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Phillip answers.

Dipaolo mutters, "I bet he'd do it too."

"It's nothing but a milk run boys. Guns for the good guys. We'll be back here at HQ for breakfast. Don't crap the bed and there will be bonuses all around. Find me when you're back. You hear that, Miller?"

The boys bump knuckles and acknowledge the order, Ellie saying, "You got it."

The truck goes quiet. Not too long after that Erikson eyes Ellie in the rearview mirror. "So... we invited to the wedding, or what?"

Dipaolo giggles like a little school girl and Ellie squints. "What are you two girls gossiping about?"

"Oh, please, Miller. Anyone with eyes can see how you look at Commander Graves," Dipaolo answers.

"More like how he looks at her," Erikson chimes in. "Especially when he thinks no one is looking."

Ellie leans forward in between the two seats. "You two are crazy."

"We know you two got a history, Miller. Ain't nothing to be ashamed of. You and Pretty Boy would be cute together." That comment has Erikson rolling in the driver's seat.

Her eyes roll as she replies, "Focus on the road, Erikson."

The trucks keep driving on the wooded road, Dipaolo commenting about how three cargo trucks with four escorts is a bit much. Ellie can't help but agree. Erikson radios General Shepherd — his call sign being Gold Eagle — and updates him that there are no issues. Shepherd reinforces to us to get there on time. And not to fail.

"We don't plan on it, sir," Ellie says through the intercom. "Should be arriving in thirty minutes or less."

"Or less is preferable. Let's get this done. Eagle out."

"Or less?" Erikson scoffs. "This ain't Domino's Pizza delivery. And do not fail. I told you this was important."

Ellie perks up at that and leans back up. "What do you mean? You two think there's something bigger going on?"

Dipaolo goes to answer when Erikson cuts him off. "We don't need her telling her boyfriend about us. Besides, it's just gossip like you said. It just seems odd there's so much emphasis on this delivery. Never been this way before, all I'm saying."

She goes to reply to that but the red light shining from the trucks ahead of them makes her stop. Brake lights. All the trucks have rolled to a stop. Not in the plan.

"What's this? Three, this is Erikson. What's up?" he asks to the guys up ahead.

"Got a vehicle on the road," the man replies gruffly.

"Standby, coming your way. Over."

He steers the truck around the others, going up front to see what the deal is. Ellie radios Graves and informs him there is a hold-up, but they're trying to handle it.

"Keep the line moving," is all he replies.

When they get to the front, Shadow 3-1 speaks broken Arabic to the men outside their vehicle blocking the road. Ellie grabs her firearm and leans out the window. Cocking the gun, she eyes the situation.

"What's going on?" she calls out, then a pop and flash of pain burst through her shoulder. The impact slams her against the doorframe as she spies many armed men raining bullets like hellfire.




She starts to shoot, and the rest of the transport team catches on and does the same. A huge water truck comes around that's equipped with even more armed mercenaries and they start letting loose on the Shadows's trucks. Ellie's heart sinks into her gut. Dread presses down on her as she watches blood spatter across the road with each bullet she fires. Erikson slams the truck into reverse and she keeps firing, now through the windshield. He starts frantically speaking to HQ through the radio.

"Enemy made contact! Multiple casualties!" he calls out as they fly backward down the road.

"Eliminate the threat, Shadows!" Graves orders.

General Shepherd chimes in. "This is Gold Eagle Actual, do not lose that cargo."

They are met with more enemy firepower, mercenaries perched up in the rubble of annihilated buildings. She gets out with other Shadows and fires until her clip is empty. As she reloads, someone warns of an incoming RPG, and then Ellie feels herself flying backward in the air, hearing temporarily gone. She slams down onto the ground and groans as another bullet hits her flesh. Erikson yells for her to get in the truck. She jumps in, hearing Graves ordering that they use the guns they have. No reinforcements.

"We need help!" she yells out on the radio.

"You are my help, now finish this!" Shepherd shouts back.

Erikson tries to drive away again but is blocked off by another water truck that's coming their way. He calls out that those they're dealing with are Russian PMCs. No wonder they're so ruthless. He backs up again, scrambling to go somewhere. Ellie can't believe this. She can hardly hear Graves and Shepherd arguing over the radio. But she can hear Shepherd denying the backup. They're on their own.

A huge blast knocks into the truck and all remaining glass shatters. It pierces Ellie's skin like a thousand bee stings, her head snapping forward and causing an instant migraine. She has never wanted to curse as bad as right now. Her vision spots and then it's black as the scent of smoke and the heat of flames tickles her cheeks.




When she comes to, Phillip can be heard on the somehow still-working radio, asking for status. Ellie whimpers, rolling to her side to see Erikson crawling out of the truck towards a gun. Through the shattered window she can see the Russian PMCs walking around to the dead bodies and checking to see who is alive. She catches the words "double-tap" and "playing dead." That gets her into action.
She grabs the nearest weapon and radio and crawls away, hearing gunshots ringing out behind her.

There's an embankment to the side of the wreckage and she flings herself down it, rolling down the thick and unforgiving brush. Each impact makes her want to scream out but she doesn't. When she stops rolling, she bites her lip to keep from making any noise. Searing and blinding pain rolls through her shoulder. The radio in her hand starts and she scrambles to turn it off. Ellie hides behind some brush as flashlights scan the area. Her breath is raspy. Clothes soaked from blood that she doesn't know what wounds it's coming from.

Her eyelids start to weigh a thousand pounds, and Ellie begs God to keep her awake. If anything, alive. He might be doing her a favor because the pain that she's feeling is causing her to lose feeling in her legs. Please, she begs in her mind. A single tear rolls down and she feels her grip on the radio loosen.

It's not long after that when her eyes shut.

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