ShadowUltimatePower

IV - Escape From Clover's perspective. I squeezed the trigger, and shuddered as the recoil hit me. Then… Dread, as I saw the target fall to the floor… And Hypo with him.  Stunned, I lay in that exact position for a moment that seemed like an eternity to my stunned brain. No… Have I failed? I wondered. "Clover, get over here now!" Wave's snarl came over the radio. "We can save him, but we have to get the hell to the RV point, NOW!" There was no time for guilt or worry. I had to move. While sprinting towards the others, I heard another transmission come in. "Tango whiskey delta three six alpha, this is tango whiskey delta f

III - Four Leaved Clover From Clover's perspective. "Now what?" I grunted to Wave. "He's dead, and if we go back for him, so are we." Wave turned slowly to me, and looked directly into my eyes. His seemed to be made of stone, hardened by the things he'd seen in the war zone. "Clover, you know our policy. No-one gets left behind. Ever." It was more than a policy, it was the squadron's motto. [I]Haud unus est relictus[/I] - No-one is left behind. Even if it meant death. The soldiers had to be sure their comrades cared enough to try and save them, no matter the cost. It was genius really - it built trust and comradeship. "We have to go get h

II - Brush In The Brush From Brush's perspective. "WE'RE SPOTTED!" roared Wave. "GO LOUD, TAKE THEM OUT!" That was the last thing I heard before the world was engulfed in chaos. The patrol that had spotted us was clumsy and slower to react than Wave - he was mown down by the ACR that Wave's expert hands had drawn from the camouflaged holster in a split-second. The immediate danger was past, but that ACR wasn't silenced - and not 50 yards ahead, the enemy base would have surely heard the fire. That gave us about… Ten seconds to get the hell out of there. How the hell did I find myself here? It was August 2009. I was obtaining my exam

I - Hunting "Tango whiskey delta five zero, this is tango whiskey delta three six alpha. Message, over." Some white noise over the radio. The seven men lay in the dirt amongst the trees,  their disruptive camouflage clothing and deliberately dirty faces concealing them in the night's dark, mysterious visage. More white noise. "Tango whiskey delta three six alpha, this is tango whiskey delta five zero. Wait, out." "Fuck." I swore, eyes on the target ahead. A 25 meter squared clearing, enemy personnel swarming all over it. If we were spotted, we'd be slaughtered. We didn't have time to waste for base to finish fucking around with whatever