Page 17 of Snowy Secrets

"Tell…my mom… I…" Hawk's voice trails off, eyes glazing over.

"I will," I promise, choking back the tears. "I will."

"Marshall is down," whispers Blaze from behind my shoulder. "But we can't linger, River. We need to keep moving."

I nod, swallowing the grief threatening to overwhelm me, and push back up from the floor. Bruised and broken, we barrel forward, reaching the reinforced door. Specialist Johnson sets the charges, and we brace ourselves. The explosion is deafening, but it does its job. We rush in, weapons ready, only to be met with a sight that tears at my soul.

Hostages, men, women, and children, huddle together, their eyes wide with fear. They're bound and gagged, bruises and cuts marring their bodies. The enemy had them here as insurance, leverage against any assault. The thought makes my blood boil.

"Secure the room!" I order. What remains of my team fans out, checking for any lingering threats. I kneel beside a little girl, her doe-eyes pleading. I cut her bonds, and she collapses into my arms, sobbing.

"You're safe now," I murmur, though I know my words are scant comfort. We start freeing the rest, moving quickly but carefully. Each freed hostage feels like a small victory, but I know we're still in the lion's den.

"River, we've got movement outside!" one of my men calls out. I glance through a shattered window. Enemy reinforcements. A lot of them.

"Set up a defensive perimeter," I command, my tone harsh with urgency. "We hold this position until extraction."

My team snaps into action, securing the hostages in the safest part of the room and taking up positions. The first shots ring out, the enemy testing our defenses. We return fire, a brutal exchange of lead and will.

I see them coming in waves, relentless and desperate. We hold our ground, every second feeling like an eternity. As the firefight rages, I catch sight of a boy, no more than twelve, clutching a small girl to his chest, shielding her with his body. Their eyes meet mine, and I feel a surge of heat course through my blood. I won't let them die here.

"Cover me!" I shout, charging toward them. Bullets zip past, one grazing my arm, but I push through the pain. I scoop them up, carrying them back to the safer part of the room.

"Stay low, stay quiet," I tell them, pressing their heads down. "We'll get you out of here."

"Enemy is breaching the compound!" another soldier yells. My heart races as I realize we're running out of time.

"Fall back to the extraction point!" I order. "We need to move, now!"

We gather the hostages, ushering them through the corridors we cleared earlier. The sounds of battle grow louder, closer. We move quickly and carefully, each step taking us closer to safety. I glance back, ensuring no one is left behind.

As we reach the extraction point, I hear the thunderous roar of the Black Hawks returning. Relief washes over me, but it's tempered by the knowledge of those we lost.

"Get them on board!" I shout over the noise, helping the hostages onto the choppers. The kids I rescued cling to me, theireyes wide with fear and trust. I hand them to a medic, who offers a reassuring smile.

As the last of the hostages are loaded, I turn to my team. "We did it. We got them out."

But the cost hits home way too hard this time. I've lost some of my best friends. Hawk is…was…his widowed mother's only child. Marshall has a wife and a baby girl back at home. I'll be the one delivering news of their deaths. I scratch my throat, hating the phantom itch stationed persistently in the hollow space at the base of my neck.

Back at the base, I walk straight to General Thornton's office. He looks up as I enter, surprise etched on his weathered face.

"River, what can I do for you?"

The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. "I'm done, sir. I'm putting in my papers."

His eyebrows shoot up. "What? Why? You're one of our best."

"I can't do this anymore, sir," I say, my voice shaking. "I've seen too much, lost too much. I'm not the same man I was when I enlisted."

"War changes everyone, River," he says gently. "But you're a damn good soldier. You've saved countless lives."

"At what cost, sir?" I ask, the bitterness in my voice evident. "I've lost friends, brothers. I've seen things that no man should ever have to see. And for what? To prop up a corrupt government in a country that doesn't want us here?"

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. "I understand your frustration, son. But this is the job we signed up for. It's our duty to serve our country, to protect the innocent."

"I've done my duty, sir," I reply, my voice firm. "But I'm not a machine. I'm a human being, and I've reached my limit. I need to go home. I need to try to heal, to find a way to live with the ghosts that haunt me."

A long silence hangs in the air. Finally, General Thornton nods. "I won't stand in your way, son. You've earned your rest. But remember, you'll always be a soldier. Once you've been to war, it never leaves you."

---