Agathe Davnech's Story

Agathe sat in the back of the truck, fiddling with his knife. He was picking out the dirt from under his fingernails with the tip of the blade, looking outwards towards the deserts of Somalia. Of course, they weren't really deserts, more like vacant villages. But he imagined it as a desert, thinking it was more poetic. He was thinking on the mission: Capture Aidid. Get to the landing zone and get out of Somalia. Then return to the USA and earn badge of approval. He thought it easy in his mind, but he still knew it would be a very dangerous task. He knew it'd be as easy to die here as anywhere else, if not easier. He looked over to the other three soldiers in his squad: A Commando, Grant, who was leading the mission. A Medic, Jacob, who was an asset to this, knowing the tasks of the mission as well. And a Heavy Weapons Specialist, Jaque. He never had fought with them before, but he'd been under the command of Grant on previous missions. He never actually went into battle with him, though. Thinking this as a new thrill, he moved himself into a straight posture, putting his bowie knife away. He looked towards the small down they were nearing now, almost there. His heart began to pump faster, but he remained calm. Their mission was about to begin.

Jaque rubbed the cold metal of her light machine gun, appreciating the smooth texture of the metal. She always found that the feel of the gunmetal to be one of the best sensations ever, right under the feeling of euphoria after gunning down a difficult target or burning off steam by practicing marksmanship. It helped to think of the targets as those who killed her brother and father. She was surrounded by her heavy weaponry, and she looked at her collection and smiled. It was more of a mysterious smile, but one of appreciation. She definitely felt pride over her collection. She recited the mission to herself, going over possible scenarios. If he runs, follow him. If one of us dies, we don't stop. That's a fact of the military. The battles don't stop for a fallen comrade. You avenge them instead. She leaned back and looked up, looking calm. Though she's been in battle plenty of times, anxiety still affected her. Maybe it was because this was no ordinary job.

Agathe looked at Jaque, turning towards her and asking. "You ready, da?" Although he was German, he had a strong Russian accent, being born and raised in Siberia. He looked at her, noticing her equipment all around and smirked. "We head out after a couple clicks, comrade. Be ready." With that, he stooped back into the back of the truck, looking at the rest of his members. "Alright, so here's what we do." Grant began. "Aidid fled from Somalia to Poland, we don't know why. There are heavy guarded areas around here so be careful. Any signs of our cover blown you report them, get it?" He nodded his head, seeing grant peek into the upper half of the truck. "Alright!?" He peeked back to Agathe, seeing it he was the most important of the four members. "You get in that apartment asap and fire when I tell your ass to, Ja?" He looked at Agathe with a cold look, but he paid no mind. "Da, commander." He nodded and looked behind him at the road they had traveled, sheathing his knife and gripping onto his revolver in his holster.