[SPEMack618]

I have written anything in half of forever.....

Things were bad for Jake. Real bad. His nose was bleeding, and every so often the gash on his head would open up and stream blood into his eye.
As near as he could tell, no one was left by the burned out hulk of the Nighthawk. He could still hear the heavy chatter of the Dishka off to his left.

Got to take that thing out, it's killing us. Jake thought to himself as he tried to pull himself up.

He patted down his plate carrier. Things were looking up; even though his back hurt, and he was bleeding, he still had his M-468, and his M-45 was tucked into the waist band of North Face hiking pants, the DeSantis holster worth every sent of the sixty dollars he had spent on it at Cabelas.

Jake allowed himself a brief thought of Nicole, she was working from home in their small Fayetteville apartment. She was wearing a pair of his wool boot socks, a pair of gray briefs with a pink waist band and his West Point bathrobe. He kissed on the way out the door and said he'd be home in time for breakfast.

Jake did a brass check on his carbine, the mean, pointed 6.8 SPC rounds looking hungry in the chamber. Wiping his nose one last time he crawled towards the Dishka position, a semblance of a plan forming in his mind.

Fayetteville, N.C.

Nicole was happily pecking away on her MacBook, writing critiques for her senior seminar students at Duke. Jake had emailed his DEROS Date and it was going to coincide nicely with the end of the spring semester. Wearing an a starched out white oxford of Jake's, along with a faded pair of his old Wranglers always made her feel a tinge better when he was gone. The phone rang. The dog barked at a black Chevy Impala that pulled in the drive way with Government tags.