[TerminalVelocity]

This is the begining to a book im writing, what do yall think? Suggestions are greatly welcomed.

Prelude

The thunder crack that was the end of Samantha’s life carried on its back the carnage that would rip the group apart. I stood there, covered in the warm maroon remains of my lovers life as everything around me exploded into a whirlwind of action. One of the other Mercenaries I didn’t know on this op took a 7.62 round, falling in slow motion screaming as the round lodged itself in his shoulder. I didn’t notice until later though, all I could do was stand there and wipe my face, and stare at the crimson covered hands I couldn’t believe were mine. Our Squad leader lunged onto me, dropping us both to keep from the hail of death that was being delivered our way. Suddenly the world came into focus, my friends were falling all around me and I had no clue who was shooting, or from where. I looked into Johnson’s eyes, only to notice they were unmoving, like glass carved into a statue. I pushed him off and grabbed his Glock 22C, but still I couldn’t see anyone to take vengeance upon. Maliki leapt over the fence and made a sprint for the van we arrived in, I had no other choice but to do the same. A round slit my side open, my first time was nothing like I expected, instead of a cold pain it was burning like my blood was molten lava. I stumbled…I limped and right then the van exploded, I had no way out but it seemed whoever was attacking felt satisfied with the misery they dispensed and disappeared as fast as they arrived.
I had no way of explaining this to anyone. Not my family, not my friends at school, no one. But how could I even explain this to myself, I was 16 and anything but a grizzled war veteran. I became painfully aware of reality as the warmth spread down my leg, the blood was soaking my pants and my head was becoming light. To this day I couldn’t tell you how I made it to my home, or why I lived, only that because of it I became part of many more actions trying to figure out why I started in the first place, and trying to figure out who I was amidst the combat. I got out of it, and decided to do good for the world, but found it wasn’t my place, neither was living a normal life. So I did what I was good at, war. I joined with the USMC and shipped off to Iraq and later to North Korea. This is where the story begins, this is the story of the Midnight Marauders.

End of Duty

We sat there on the UH-60 Black hawk on approach back home. On my right was a fresh marine out of boot, couldn’t have been more than 19 years of age with a light peach fuzz showing through where he poorly shaved. And at my left was Sgt. Keith, he served with my recon unit throughout our tour in North Korea. We had both seen why Vietnam was considered such a brutal war. It had nothing to do with war, it had to do with the atrocities committed there. Rape, torture, cold blooded murder. And the noisy hot jungle always at your back. It truly was hell, just with a green tint to it instead of the familiar stained glass red everyone thinks of. The kid looked to us as though we were gods, but we knew better. We knew we were tired old men who wanted to never see another day of action and would see it for the rest of our lives every time we closed our eyes.
“What are you going to do when you get back home?” my voice was raspy from yelling throughout all the combat, and now over the blades keeping us in the air.
“Go drink a cold Pepsi and grill up a warm steak, nothing better in the world.” Keith’s smile showed for the first time since I had met him. That having been two years ago this came as the first shock I had had in several years as well. The kid looked ready to explode if he didn’t get attention from us before we landed. It had been somewhat of a quiet trip from the east coast to the west. I had to pity the kid, knowing he had to have seen enough action already, and how much more was ahead for him.
“So kid…what are you going to do when you get home?” I tried keeping the sound of command out of my voice but it was hard for how young he was. Almost as though I felt he needed to be commanded to have a rational mature thought.
“I’m gonna go see my friends and my parents for the last time before I ship off to North Korea and get my share out there!” His exuberance just added onto how naïve he was to war. He hadn’t seen anything yet, this was his leave before he went to…”get some”.
“First, never say last time for anything, your going off to a hot zone and may never come back, and if you do you very well might be missing a few body parts or the use of your brain. You need to be as optimistic as possible at a time like this, and second…you better not get your share, you best be givin it, those communist bastards out there need as many rounds coming their way after they let loose that chemical weapon in Seoul.” the kid looked about as frightened as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. My words were like thunder from Zeus raining upon him for speaking to a superior officer in such an informal manner. The kid had nothing else to say, nothing except a quiet “Yes sir” and his eyes turned to the ever changing landscape out the door. Keith looked to me with an expression that said it all. I was too hard on the poor kid, but hey, we had been there, he hasn’t yet…he will learn soon enough what my words meant once he gets to hell.