Page 2 of Mariposa
“I’m officially a dad to this little peanut,” he says proudly. His eyes gleam with pure elation. “We don’t know the gender yet, but I’m praying for a daughter. I come from a family of all boys, hoping to be the first to break the Pearls’ curse.”
“Damn, Kid. You’re only twenty-one years old and already having babies?” Booker blares over the loud helicopter machinery. He reaches over my lap and inspects the photo in Kid’s hand.
“I had mine at seventeen, so I can’t say shit,” I mumble.
“Beast. Thirty seconds,” the pilot’s stoic robotic voice says in my ear.
“Roger that.”
I place my little project away and tuck my favorite knife into my kit before I gesture to everyone. “Lock it up!”
Everyone stiffens, straightening their backs and drifting into a different mindset. We don the masks that we put on before every mission, and I’m not talking about the balaclavas. There’s a type of eerie silence that we sit in before the operation begins, knowing that this helicopter ride might be our last.
We securedthe area even with the current sandstorm that’s wreaking havoc on the village, and it’s a job well done. All of us get to go back home in one piece.
Slater and Booker escort one of the targets. They walk him through the exit of the half-blown-up building with a missing roof. He bellows out curse words under his breath the entire time, fighting against them as much as he can. He’s an extremist responsible for the cold-blooded torture and murder of hundreds of families and soldiers.
Kid stays close behind. He’s looking around, on high alert, searching for any more threats even though it’s been cleared. He managed to take this mission slowly, learning and grasping the knowledge from us senior operators.
“You did good, Kid,” I tell him as I peer over my shoulder. I readjust my rifle on my shoulder when I spot him around the hallway’s corner. Watching his side, a few feet away, he goes still as a statue with saucer eyes, gawking inside a room that was already secured.
“Kid?”
His fingers tremble, convulsing around his pistol.
He’s hesitating.
Shit.
Two shots ring out, piercing him. His body jolts with each blow, sending him to the ground, hard. The mics go off with questions thrown out, one after the other.
“Man down, man down!”
Sprinting over to him, I do what I’m trained to do, following the rules of engagement and eliminating the threat with my weapon. Three shots and a man with hatred flickering in his eyes drops.
I examine Kid, who’s already being attended to medically by our designated personnel.
Kneeling, I assess the damage.
One bullet pierced right through his carotid artery. He only has about thirty seconds left from the time he got hit until his heart stops beating. I pull off his mask as my knees are drenched in a pool of crimson. His strawberry-blond hair perks up from the static. Red drops out of his mouth too fast, with no ending in sight. He chokes and wheezes as he attempts to speak.
Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.
“T-tell my w-wife, that I—” he stutters weakly. He swallows the blood, his throat moving up and down before he continues. “T-that I love her?”
Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight.
“I know, brother, I got you. We all got you.”
Seven. Six. Five. Four.
His lips flatten, and with tears still pouring out of his eyes and down the sides of his pale face, he takes his last breath.
Three. Two. One.
Shutting my eyes tightly, I grind my teeth violently.
His first mission…and he’s KIA.
