FUBAR CONTACT RIGHT, CONTACT RIGHT!
UP HIGH, UP HIGH!
I DON’T HAVE A VISUAL!
MUZZLES FLASH 12 O-CLOCK!
RABBIT!
TAKE OUT THE LIGHTS!

My name is Michael Barracks, call sign ‘Rabbit’. And I am a navy seal; as of 3 weeks ago I became the man that terminated Malik al Sharim, the leader of the global terrorist organization Al-Faeda. I’m one of 3 men in the AFO Wolf pack, but we are known to civilians as ‘Seal Team Six’ to cover our identity. Bruce Dixon ‘Deuce’ is my partner and my commanding officer is Trevor Oxford ‘Mother”. As a unit we have executed 63 raids against Al Faeda forces and I have 391 confirmed kills. Our latest mission, infiltrate a possible training stage for Al Faeda insurgents, in search for links to a new synthetic explosive called P.E.T.N. code name Alpha, Bravo. We were transported by Helo at 1300 hours on august 3rd 2013 in the Mountains of Peshawar, Pakistan.

I lean to the left of the rock I was taking cover behind. Placing my rectile on the light bulb and with a firm but controlled pull of the trigger… darkness
“Nice shot rabbit”
“Nods up”
I pull down my nods and everything glows with a vivid green.

Bruce Dixon ‘Deuce’ is my fellow seal and the brother I never had. He grew up in Kansas and was the classic redneck. He enlisted in the seals the same time I did, we went through the entire boot camp together. At times he was the dumbest person I knew, but the toughest son of b***h I will ever know. Trevor Oxford ‘Mother’ is our senior officer, our leader. He is a 10th year seal and has served in major conflicts during this god-forsaken war. If there was anyone that I would follow into a cave of hagees, it would be him.

Deuce whispers in the radio “contact on our 10”
Mother instantly responds “rabbit gimme a target count”
Looking through the scope on my AR-15 “7 contacts sir”
They’re walking around with no clue, bumping into cover, walls and each other, like a pig before slaughter.
“These poor bastards are s***t outta luck and jolly well f****d”
Mother orders me “Rabbit, toss a 9 banger in there”
“Yes sir”
I reach for my tactical clip with a certainty that what I needed would be there. Pulling the pin and toss the 9 banger down range. The grenade tumbles down the cave and stops right in the middle of the 7 contacts. TITITITITITITITITINNGGGG. The whole cave lights up like the birth of a new star, blinding rays of hot white light and the temporarily incapacitating shockwave, Accompanied by the ear splitting reverberation of the sharp, deafening bang of the grenade. My personal ringtone for unknown but certain death.

“CLEARED HOT!”
We open fire on the contacts with a flurry of lead.
“Target down” “dropped him!” “He’s down” “smoked” “KIA” “TITS UP!”
RABBIT ONE TARGET, RIGHT TO LEFT! Drop him
I stare down my scope and sight the target. All my years of training and experience rushes from my subconscious to my conscience. Distance-260 yards, i lead the target by a few inches. With a Firm pull of the trigger… TSS I feel the soft recoil on my shoulder as the silent bullet spirals down range. I hear a crack and a squashing sound as the round impales the head of my target, never gets old…
Mother confirms “Nice shot rabbit”
Deuce adds “F****n’ A!”
People ask me what I felt when I shot Malik Al-Sharim. My answer,
Recoil.
Mother orders us to move up the cave “Alright men our missions objective is 500 feet from our current location, lets hall ass!”
We come to a wooden door and hear voices inside.
“Stack up”
“Rabbit, put a flex charge on the door”
Rolling the charge on the edge of the door, I duck behind deuce
Mother yells, “CLEAR”
The flex charge goes off with an earsplitting CRACK, we move through the door with 4 stunned insurgents in the room. We stack up in standard breach formation, mother at point and me and deuce on his 4 and 8. Time slows down to almost a dead stop; the room is a dark green glow. The 4 insurgents stand out like a fly in milk with the bright green shine radiating off their bodies. I place a round right in the middle of the first targets eyes; the second is a mirrors image. 4 targets, 4 bullets. Time catches up with reality and I sight the objective
“CEASE FIRE!”
“P.E.T.N”

Deuce states, “There’s at least 20 tones here”
I ask, “How you’d get that number?”
“Scientific wild ass guess”
“No sudden moves, there’s enough of this shit to blow half this F****n mountain of”
“Wait, wait”
“What’s all this s**t?”
There were piles of usb’s and blue prints on a desk in the middle of the room.
“What are these dips**ts doing with all this info?”
“I dunno, the situations unchanged”
“Still f****d up though”
“WAIT! Are these blue prints of the white house?”
“What the f**k are they doing with blueprints of the white house?”
“Whose Muhammad farad?”
“Hey, isn’t the white house doing masonry repairs around the oval office?”
Deuce replied confusingly “what the hell does that have to do with our current situation rabbit?”
“Didn’t command mention that P.E.T.N was mixable with concrete?” It all made sense, the P.E.T.N, the blueprints of the white and their new head of command, It hits all three of us
“OH S**T!”
“We have to alert POTUS!”
Mother orders us “Deuce radio this into command, Rabbit! Get as much a this s**t as you can WERE MOVIN OUT!”
“Yes sir!”
“Yes sir!”
“Doesn’t this shit ever end?”
Deuce adds “not a chance bro”
Same s**t, different day, bigger shovel