I shifted the white sheets aside, clutching my shoulder while an IV drip was embedded in my vein, slowly giving me fluids and some morphine. As Acting Captain Seller glared at me, I moved slowly, getting some of the light out of my eyes.
"You ignored a direct order." Immediately, Seller shot an accusation at me while I rubbed the missing flesh slowly, my fingers bending the bandage inward.
"You're welcome for saving you," I replied, wiping the blood from my fingers onto the sheet.
"Do you have any idea what could happen if I choose to discipline you?"
"Yeah, I do. I'd still do it again. I already lost a friend, I don't need to lose a teammate too."
She sighed ever so lightly, pushing herself off her bed and moving for the door. It had been about a week since the firefight. Luckily, her foot healed pretty well, but the same couldn't be said for just under my collarbone and slightly above my elbow.
"Come on, rip out the IV and let's go spar," Seller ordered, leaving the door open as I followed.
A bullet wound wasn't going to stop me from getting off my ass, especially since she had a worse wound and was already up and about.
We walked past the other tents, soldiers gearing up, some training, others reassembling and disassembling their rifles and pistols. Nobody was speaking; compared to before, it was a ghost town even with people.
The news about the loss of SEAL Team Seven and more than half of SEAL Team Three was obviously on their minds. We kept walking, though, past a group of Green Berets who were staring at the news.
The Russians decided to quit their full-scale invasion after their initial group was wiped out; however, that couldn't be said for everywhere.
Not long after their failure, they overtook Ukraine and most of Upper Europe. China quickly fell in line, along with Mongolia, and other countries like Kazakhstan and Iran joined to avoid getting invaded.
As it stood, only the United Kingdom, Ireland, Germany, Spain, France, and Portugal remained standing. The Russian forces, backed by Chinese and virtually all other armies, were advancing toward Africa and the rest of Europe.
NATO finally got involved, but they were outmatched as quickly as they tried to intervene. Russia ignored them, as did China, and with them teaming up, everyone else was put out.
South Korea and Japan joined forces, retreating to the Mariana Islands like Guam, Tinian, and Saipan. Their old territory was invaded just a day after most of the politicians evacuated.
Altogether, around three hundred million people were either captured or murdered, leaving Canada to agree with the United States and the United Kingdom.
Russia made sure to make a statement on that, solidifying that if any missiles were used, there wouldn't be an America or anywhere else left when they used their missiles.
"ALAN!"
My eyes snapped open as I looked in front of me. Seller had been trying to get my attention, holding out a pair of martial arts gloves for me to grab.
I quickly took them from her, stepping onto the large concrete pad in the middle of the field. Gunshots sounded around us, none from enemy troops, just soldiers playing target practice.
"Something on your mind, kid?" Seller asked, doing a few light jumps and feint punches as she warmed up.
"What isn't?" I remarked with a scoff, stretching both my arms and sticking out one leg at a time as far as they would go.
She looked me up and down before nodding, placing her left leg in front and her right leg a bit back, bending her knees ever so slightly. Her arms were squared up in front of her face, guarding her chin and nose. A classic boxing stance, but arguably one of the best in martial arts.
"How about for every win you answer a question I have, same rules apply if you win."
It was a good proposition, there were plenty I had that I wanted answers to. I was stuck in the tent too long to hear much else from the briefings she got. I nodded in agreement, copying her stance.
She charged forward, whipping out her right leg and slamming into my guard. Luckily, I didn't fall, but it threw me off balance enough that I couldn't immediately counterattack.
Her fist flung out at me with lightning speed, but I managed to bend down enough for it to miss and return with an uppercut, which was promptly blocked by her guard.
Fuck! Close Quarters Combat was Dan's specialty!
Her leg connected to my stomach, sending me flying back and tumbling, before landing back on my feet. If I hadn't stretched, she would have won in that small moment. All it would take is one good shot and the win would be her's. Instantly.
"Are you even fucking trying, Andrews? You fight like a girl!"
I narrowly blocked a jab aimed at my mouth, but she whipped around and kicked me hard in the ribs. Her feet danced across the concrete, ending up behind me and punching me hard enough to stumble forward.
My feet locked me to the ground as I spun around and delivered a swift slap with the back of my palm, hitting her directly in the cheek.
She barely stumbled, ducking down and charging forward again, slamming her fist into my ribs.
Almost as quickly as the fight started, she had won. I clutched my side, breathing heavily as my ribs creaked with a burning pain. It wasn't the hardest I'd ever been hit, but it damn sure hurt the most.
"Come on, on your feet." She pulled me up swiftly as a small crowd of soldiers gathered around us. "Let's go again, I'll save my question for later."
We got back into stance, this time on opposite sides. Men gathered around the pad, yet not one of them dared to step onto the concrete. The only signs of life on it were us and our dirty boot prints on the floor.
"KICK HER ASS MAN!"
"SHOW THAT GUY WHO'S BOSS!"
"GO, CAPTAIN!"
So one out of three of the cheers I did hear were for me, how colorful. She rubbed her head slightly before getting back in position and dashing toward me.
Her first punch missed as I threw myself around it, slamming my boots back into the ground and slamming my fist into her back.
She whipped around, using the momentum to push her boots into the floor and spring up faster. With a killer uppercut, I went flying back, tumbling across the concrete and crashing into the crowd of people, hitting their legs and staying on the ground while they laughed above me. Another win for her, go figure.
"AW, COME ON, KID!"
"WAY TO GO, CAPTAIN!"
I lifted myself from the dirt, wiping my dirtied uniform off, and stood at attention as she marched toward me.
"You son of a bitch, how the hell did you copy my footwork?"
"OH SHE'S PISSED!"
"STICK IT TO HIM, CAPTAIN!"
She dragged me away as the crowd of soldiers cheered for her, and a few of the guys in Team Three laughed at me, obviously enjoying my punishment. That's around the time it dawned on me, this was a hazing ritual; the same thing happened to all the other members of our team.
Seller, you son of a bitch!
She plopped me down in a chair, pulling up another and muting the TV as she stared at my face. I couldn't tell if she was about to sock me, ask me a question, or both, but she answered it for me as she let out a sigh.
"Damnit, Alan. Alright, I get two questions, understood?"
I nodded as she continued, my shoulder, ribs, ears, and mouth ringing with their special kind of pain.
"I only get two, damn. I want to know how you copied it, though... Whatever, how did you replicate my footwork that fast?" She asked, glaring into my eyes as flies buzzed around us.
"I guess you could say Petty Officer Third Class Dan taught me, you know, the guy who burned to death in front of us both."
I didn't mean for my answer to come out that way, but it did. His death had been on my mind all day, and I couldn't keep not saying anything. The bodies of the soldiers lost had already been collected two days after the failed invasion, yet I never got to see him after identifying the burnt corpse as his.
She stayed quiet for a moment, still staring at me, before mumbling something under her breath. From the sound, it was a long, drawn-out, 'Shiiiiiiiit.'
"Okay, second question," She paused for a moment, probably thinking, before raising her head and smirking. "Have you ever drunk six beers?"
I barely had time to process the question before I was outside, surrounded by soldiers. One was a lookout for any other high-ranked officers that could come along, but from the state of the world, none could bother to come to the temporary base yet.
"Seller, I am nineteen, don't do this!" I begged as she poured six beers into a large bottle.
My cries went unanswered as another SEAL held me down and placed a funnel into my mouth. "This is illegal!"
Seller approached, cracking her neck as the bottle neared the funnel. "Sorry, Alan. But, you know, old enough to die, old enough to drink!"
A wicked grin appeared on everyone's faces, even the Green Berets, as they witnessed the 'hazing ritual,' as a man in an engineer's outfit put it. I shook my head back and forth as much as possible, but another SEAL joined in at holding me still.
NOO!
The beer slid from the bottle straight into my throat as I was forced to swallow all of it. The piss-like liquid tore apart my throat, stinging my body down.
I felt it build in my stomach, tears in my eyes, as they started to chant.
"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!"
SELLER I FUCKING HATE YOU!
As the bottle finally emptied and they let go of my head, I tumbled to the ground and vomited everywhere. It was worse than having pneumonia, far worse, it was like having a stomach bug on the steroids bodybuilders use.
"Oh God-" I puked all over the ground again, my heart rate spiking as my chest got tighter. I could barely breathe, and my throat felt rawer than ever because of all the alcohol.
I managed to stand up, my body shaking and trembling as I turned my head toward Seller. My face was flushed, the taste of piss on my breath as I grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her over to the concrete pad again.
"THIS MOTHERFUCKERS DRUNK!"
I ignored his comment as Seller decided not to struggle and walked with me, half propping me up along the way.
"You," I pointed at her, my breathing ragged, before turning my finger at myself. "Me. Round three."
She chuckled, a tear in her eye, as she tossed the gloves to me, a grin clear on her face. "Fine, round 3, drunkard."
She whispered the last word so nobody else could hear, maybe so I wasn't pinned with that nickname, I didn't care, nor did I want to stop at her kindness.
I lifted my arms to my face, protecting my nose and mouth as she charged forward again. This time, I was ready, using her momentum to spin around her oncoming jab and get behind her.
This move I learned from Dan! I raised my leg to head-level, slamming it down hard on her back. She flopped forward, tumbling, before regaining her footing and turning around.
Her face was redder than mine was as she threw a punch toward me the second she was within distance. I dodged, moving my head to the side and slamming my arm to the side, hitting her guard, but I quickly stomped down on her boot.
Her eyes opened wider as my other arm slammed into her stomach, hitting her hard enough that a loud slap cut through the night air.
I stood still, tasting the stale air as the piss taste left my mouth. Flies buzzed around the two of us as the soldiers held their breath, waiting for her counterattack. Slowly, she fell to her knees, clutching her stomach.
"My win," I managed to mumble, before passing out over her. The world turned black, yet I never hit concrete, instead landing on something slightly firm yet soft.
***
The world spun around me as I stood up, clutching my head as lightning danced around my brain. I looked around, seeing a green cot, which I had just woken up from, and a few other cots around.
I exited the tent, glancing around as flies attacked me again. The air wasn't as stale, more crisp this time, tasting slightly like leaves.
I kept walking around, clutching my skull as the pain got worse, before I stumbled upon every soldier in camp, all watching TV in complete silence. I caught only the last part before it went silent.
"We're not sure what to do as the President has yet to issue a statement, but London has fallen. I repeat, London has fallen. We have lost the United Kingdom."
As soon as I had woken up, I heard the worst news to ever fill my ears. That meant the entirety of Europe was under Russian and Chinese control. I snapped awake, straining my ears to listen closer.
Right after the announcement, the broadcast repeated, allowing me to hear what else had happened practically overnight. Palestine offered to surrender to Russia if they claimed the Gaza Strip, and they accepted quickly, taking out the rest of Europe.
Seller grabbed all of SEAL Team Three, along with a few other Chief Petty Officers, and dragged us over to a tent far from the others.
"I'm not fucking with you guys here, we're in shit. The Naval Special Warfare Command (NSWC) just sent us direct orders. We're to prepare to infiltrate the United Kingdom early tomorrow."
She paused, glancing at all of us. I could see her eyes shaking slightly, sweat forming on her brow as she continued.
"We'll be dropping directly over London, where British Intelligence and their Special Air Service (SAS) will be waiting for us. Our course is right over the harbor. This isn't a simple get in-get out, this is a full-scale infiltration."
Seller pulled out a world map and slammed it onto the table, placing pins along each end, and began to point to the coast off the United Kingdom, next to Ireland.
"Ireland will be sending their complete forces, even their combat engineers, to aid in this battle. We might even be staying until we take back London, this isn't a joke, and this sure as shit isn't a drill. Some of you will die, do I make myself clear?"
"Copy that, Captain." Everyone present said in unison, including me.
I could feel another pain stab at my heart, forming along the tendrils as my air supply cut off briefly. She glared at us again before continuing for the final time.
"Alan, Noah, you'll be with me. We're the Alpha team. James, Frank, Mike, Elijah, and Olsten, you'll be team Beta. Your mission is to take out the Russian General, who we believe is stationed near Big Ben. Finally, the rest of you are team Gamma, your mission is to take out all troops alongside the Marines and Army, you'll be working directly with the Irish forces. Team Alpha, stay. The rest of you, go prepare."
They ran out of the tent on command, all toward the largest tent in the middle of the rest, our markshift armory. I didn't get to see much else as Noah closed the tent flaps, zipping it shut, before coming back.
He stood to my right, his ginger beard quivering ever so slightly. I could make out his brown eyes shuddering as he corrected his boots, standing straight up at attention.
"Alright, look. What I'm about to say stays with us, we do not utter a goddamn word to anyone, soldier or not, am I clear?" Seller asked, looking us up and down as we nodded in affirmation.
"Our priority is to take the Russian General's son, intel suggests he'll be somewhere along the border of Germany, holed up in a mansion. We'll be dropping with the troops, clearing hostiles along the way, until we take a boat from point A."
She pointed at a pin, placing it directly onto a dock on the border of the United Kingdom. Before placing another on a dock in Germany. "To point B."
"The NWSC has requested we do not stray from this objective; no matter what, even if our infiltration fails, we must take his son at the very least. Do you understand?"
"Roger that," I replied, my voice shaking slightly as my body trembled under me. It wasn't that I was afraid or that my wound was hurting; I was excited to finally rejoin the fight.
"Copy that, Captain," Noah muttered.
She quickly dismissed the pair of us to get geared up, staying behind to analyze the map further and plan for any last-minute changes.
I entered the armory tent, throwing open a large locker with my name on it, which stored most of my gear, including the armor I had yet to wear after buying the first day I got out of the infirmary.
I grabbed the plate carrier first, Eagle Industries. Matte black. The fabric was stiff, high-denier, heavy-duty stuff that could take a beating. I slid it on, front and back plates locking into place with a low thud. It hugged my chest tightly, it was solid.
I clipped it closed and adjusted the shoulder straps. It settled in with weight across my shoulders and down my spine. Four magazine pouches across the front, all of them full with different caliber bullets, loaded and ready.
Two grenades were slotted on the upper left strap. Smoke on the right, frag on the left. They sat tight, not swinging, not loose. Everything was locked down tight.
I had a few side pouches for smaller tools. Flex cuffs, a small helmet light, and one spare tourniquet, right above my kit. The radio unit hung low on my left side, mic wire running up and over my shoulder.
I grabbed my sidearm, the Glock 19, which was already blacked out. It slid into the thigh holster with a clean click. The small button snapped shut over it, and I ran a hand over the grip. Even if I never pulled it, it made me feel better knowing it was there.
Then the helmet, Ops-Core FAST SF. Also matte black. I dropped it over my head, chin strap already pre-set. The padding inside cushioned the weight, and I heard a soft buzz as the comms synced.
My visor attachment sat up top, flipped for now. I wasn't going in blind, but I wasn't taking chances either. With the light and night-vision goggles hanging slightly above, I was more prepared than most of the other soldiers.
Last came the boots, Salomon Forces, jet black, tight laces. Built to move fast but built to last, too. My steps went quiet as I stood up and took a few steps, testing the gear. Heavy but solid.
I grabbed my M4A1 Carbine from my locker, the matte black finish chilling my palms as I checked the fixed iron sights. I clicked the thirty-round magazine into place with a quick thunk, making sure it was locked in tight.
The free-float rail system gave me room to attach the vertical grip, and I slid it into position, feeling its textured surface beneath my fingers. It fit perfectly, giving me more control under rapid fire. I added the weapon light to the rail, positioning it just below the barrel.
I flung it over my shoulder, keeping a grip on the sling as I picked up my KRISS Vector, its frame light in my hands. The iron flip-up sights were simple but effective, it already saved my ass from being disqualified during gun training, this was probably the closest it would get to the same thing.
I checked the magazine, twenty-five rounds, a little less capacity than the M4A1, but just as deadly at close range. I clicked it in, giving it a quick tug to make sure it was secure. My knife holster waited to be filled, attached to my sidearm holster, and I slid my SRK tactical knife inside.
I took a deep, shaky breath, narrowing my eyes as I stared into the mirror. My entire body looked more like a shadow than a soldier, let alone a SEAL, but still, I continued forward.
As I left the tent, I could hear the rumbling of a plane come close, and it touched down not too far from the command tent. Everything was ready, we were doing this.
I loaded onto the C-130 Hercules, which was essentially a massive tin can used for housing soldiers and gear on the way to the drop zone. Some referred to it as a, 'metal barracks in the sky.' Not that they were wrong.
Seller looked at us all as we sat down, waiting for takeoff, before her eyes stopped on me. "Alan, where did you buy that?"
"An armor store further down in the base, near the lake, Captain," I replied, rolling my head and helmet over to meet her eyes as the other SEALs stared at me.
Not one of them had armor as dark as mine, yet they were still prepared, some close to my color with a dark gray, but not completely black. One of them whisled, staring at my M4A1 Carbine, I think he was impressed with it.
"Shit, you'll have to show us that store, how much did it all cost?" She asked, stepping closer to take a look at my helmet. Without a word, she tightened the nightvision goggles on tighter.
"I think somewhere between one and a half grand, possibly a few hundred more," I answered, giving a thumbs-up as she stepped back.
She took a deep breath, standing up straighter in her dark gray matrix vest. The rest of her was covered in lighter armor than I had, but I'd rather be slower than dead from lack of protection.
"All right! Listen up, everyone!" She called out, gathering the attention of all thirty troops in the plane. The other SEAL Team leader came closer to her, standing next to her as he waited for her to continue.
"We'll be dropping near the harbor instead of on it, we'll be landing directly into the warzone. British intelligence has already given the all-clear for landing and has kept the area relatively safe; however, there may still be enemy troops unaccounted for. Do not follow the Rules of Engagement, anything that moves and isn't wearing the armor and uniforms shown to you, or isn't a civilian, light them the fuck up. I'll handle the punishment."
She took a step back, nodding to the next Chief Petty Officer of SEAL Team Four, our backup and cover for the mission, to speak.
"As you already heard, the ROEs are not to be followed in this case, this is a full-scale war, not a daycare. If any of you even see someone trying to pick up a weapon or near a goddamn weapon and they don't look like a civilian, send their asses to God."
He took a slight pause, taking a cross out of his pocket and giving it a quick kiss before putting it back. Then he continued.
"We're being backed up by Marine Special Operations Regiment (MSOR), the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Marine Regiments, and essentially every soldier from Ireland. I'm not bullshitting when I tell you all even chefs are joining this fight, if we lose, all of goddamn Europe is gone and we won't be getting it back."
He sat back down, letting Seller take the floor. The other planes buzzed around us, but it seemed almost quiet as soldiers checked their rifles over and over. Only one other soldier had a KRISS Vector aside from me, that being the Chief Petty Officer, who had just sat back down.
"Rest up, check your weapons, do whatever. We have four hours until we reach the drop point."
At her final sentence, it fell silent in the cabin. SEALs silently glanced around and out the window, others sat down in silence, placing a cap over their face and getting some sleep before we reached London, while a good few others checked their ammo and weapons over and over.
The Chief Petty Officer from earlier leaned over silently to Seller, and they whispered back and forth for a good while, before I finally heard a few words from him.
"I'm just saying, Captain, this is the biggest war we've ever been in, it's the war to end all wars. At least half of us won't be coming back out of this."