We had been sent in to deliver a payload to some enemy aircraft.

The visibility was shit, but conveniently someone had left us an array of weapons to choose from on a mat by our feet. Now that’s service.

A glare from my companion indicated that if I chose anything other than a sensible, silenced handgun or rifle, there would be trouble.

I lay down the RPG.

A harsh whisper in my ear… “It’s a fucking stealth mission you keeyaahnt”. He nodded to his own gun, which sported a sonar plotting device on it and a silencer the size of Bigfoot’s dick.

I nodded in recognition, reaching down and picking up a silenced handgun. As my partner edged forward into the compound I picked up a heavy machine gun with a shit eating grin. He’d never know until it was too late. Besides, it might come in handy. Whilst I was there I pocketed a few grenades as well. And then thought twice and replaced the handgun with a snub-nosed Uzi. I then went back and grabbed a second one.

As I waddled up to my companion, who was peering round a corner surveying the scene, a gruff Scottish voice came through our earpieces.

“THERE IS A REASON WE BROUGHT THE SILENCERS YOU KNOW”

My companion spun in place and looked in horror at the arsenal I was carrying.

“Busted”, he said.

I went back to the mat with my tail between my legs before rejoining my companion with a suitably silenced rifle and handgun. Boring.

I couldn’t see a lot in the blizzard and as I tromped round the corner he pulled me back by the scruff of the neck just in time for a guard to walk past us. I had almost blundered right into him…

I cleared my throat.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, reaching for my grenades.

“We need to get to those planes without drawing too much attention, and then deliver the payload.”

I stopped reaching for my grenades.

We took a moment to look at the sonar. The encampment was chock full of soldiers.

I began reaching for my grenades, but my companion was off and before I knew it the slumped body of the nearby guard was placed at my feet.

The snow was making everything unclear, and I couldn’t tell if my companion was walking into a trap or not, but I guessed his sonar would alert him. As he disappeared into the whiteout, I decided to take up residence with my sniper rifle and “Watch his back”.

Just then a Jeep rounded a corner in the direction he had gone…

“Don’t draw too much attention…don’t draw too much attention…there is a reason we brought the silencers”.

These thoughts kept crossing my mind.

But my partner…He was surrounded. I was surrounded. We were all surrounded!

Before I knew it I had pulled the pin, and what had once seemed to be a rather inconspicuous fuel truck near the runway soon became a great big fuel truck sized target.

Seconds later everyone was deaf, blind and burning. This included myself and my partner and a couple of plane spotters there for a peaceful day out.

Soap was shrieking down the earpiece as wave after wave of fresh guards turned on our position. I ran in with olde painless and pulled my companion from the flames. He reached up for support but unfortunately pulled on a small cluster of grenades dangling from my flak jacket.

I supposed you could say we had completed the mission, as no aircraft remained. On the other hand, the fact that this memoir is written from 6 feet under could possibly warrant a mission F.A.I.L.

Either way, I was just disappointed I didn’t get to use the dual snub-nosed Uzi’s.

 

~Lordt