We were half a click outside of town when I finally snapped back to reality as a pair of Blackhawks buzzed over the dune behind us at what seemed like inches over my head. I figured a couple of fly boys were just trying to be funny and scare us until the .50 cals roared to life and an RPG spiraled off a rooftop towards the choppers. The tail of the lead heli erupted in flames; smoke engulfed the fuselage as it plummeted towards the ground. As the dust cloud began to settle, we were at a dead sprint to the cobbled together stone wall that surrounded the city. I could hear the bullets whizzing by my head. “Hall, take that right flank and give me a status on the flight crew!” barked Max. “Briggs and I will cover you. Cowboy, do something about that RPG!”
“Yes, sir!” shouted Cowboy and I in unison. We nodded at each other and took off in separate directions, Max popped smoke and Briggs unloaded at the rooftops with his M16. I could almost feel the bullets ricocheting all around me with every step closer to the downed chopper. Another RPG flew overheard and slammed into the building behind me, a waterfall of bricks and dust landed just a few feet away, my ears were ringing, my heart was pounding. I staggered back to my feet, and through the haze I could just barely make out the cockpit. It was perched on the remains of a fountain; it was the only part of the helo I could still recognize. Rotor blades were strewn around the courtyard. Bits of flaming metal were scattered at my feet. By the time I reached the flight crew the dust was settled, they were all dead. I heard Max yell something, I looked up and saw an RPG aimed at me on the rooftop, the bastard was smiling…
By OutlawDrifter89