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October 10th, 2005, 07:44 PM
For some reason my cousins story wouldnt show up correct on my browser, it kept replacing the letters with symbols, but anyways, here is a prologue to my current project with some of my cousins ideas in it.


Dust swirled around Sergeant Ramrod’s boots as he and his team slowly advanced down a deserted Mexican street. His Oakley goggles protected his blue eyes from the dust as he moved with his assault rifle, the XM8. He was very aware of the environment, citizens of the street slammed their doors and shutters as they passed, symbolizing their hate. Ramrod couldn’t care less about it though, the terrorist had made a striking move against the U.S., one that wouldn’t go unnoticed. His team leader, Lieutenant McLeod, was even more aware of the environment then Ramrod.
The team halted when he raised his fist. They stood silent and still waiting for him to lower it. On the road ahead of them they saw a civilian walk across and disappear.
“ Let’s go.” he said lowering his fist.
“ Sir, I’m getting a helluva lot heat signatures on the ground. They are crouched down behind that building.” said Wyman, the teams special look out. Using his equipment virtually nothing could hide from him. Mcleod didn’t take more than a nanosecond to think of a plan. Using his hands he signaled for three of the squad to take cover behind the brick covering of an antique shop and for the remaining person, sniper Kingsley, to come with him.
Sgt. Ramrod watched Kingsley climbed atop a small shop using Lt. Mcleod as a step ladder. Kingsley kneeled and aimed his sniper at the building. Zooming in he got a surprising sight.
“ Sir you’re not going to believe this." said Kingsley gasping. “ Sir! RPG!” he screamed as the screeching sound of a rocket propelled grenade charged into the shop. Sgt. Ramrod watched Kinsley flip head over heels from the building and land limp on the ground. “ Form a defensive perimeter!” commanded Lt. Mcleod.
Sgt. Ramrod looked up the street at the organized troops advancing towards him.
“ Whittaker, get H.Q. on the phone now and order an air strike!” screamed Lt. Mcleod. Sergeant Whittaker shook his head at the order, signaling towards the civilians crouched against the walls of buildings.
“ Damn it Whittaker! Get them on the phone now! Laser designate that target before I shoot you my damn self!” Mcleod spat. Ramrod thought about it, he too was concerned about the civilians. Ramrod looked at Whittaker who had no choice but to designate the target. Ramrod heard his name being screamed from behind him as Whittaker ordered the air strike. Turning he saw Kingsley laying in a bloody heap.
Ramrod ran to him and saw he wasn’t fatally hurt, but shrapnel had impaled him nastily in his chest armor and face. “ Come on Kingsley!” Ramrod encouraged as he wrapped Kingsley’s arm around his neck and dragged him inside a building. “ I have to help the others! Stay put!” Ramrod shouted. Kingsley nodded his head in agony.
“ Ramrod where are you?” he heard in his headset. Ramrod quickened his sprint and saw Wyman covering Mcleod who was crouched over the twitching body of Whittaker. “ What the **** happened?” said Ramrod as he kneeled by Whittaker. Blood was pulsing from Whittakers chest.
“ Aw ****!” screamed Wyman falling to the ground with a bullet in his leg.
“ Damn it!” said Mcleod going to help Wyman.
“ I’m good.” said Wyman who returned to shooting almost immediately.
Ramrod felt Whittaker’s pulse. “ Whittaker lost his pulse Sir!” he reported.
“ Son of a bitch!” screamed Mcleod. He seized the laser designator from his body and aimed it at the troops who were firing rapidly. The designator beeped, confirming it had locked on. “ The air strike is on its way! H.Q. this is Lieutenant Mcleod, I need immediate evacuation from my location. I have three wounded, two of them are severe, one of which we believe to be dead!” Mcleod spat.
Ramrod’s head was spinning. He was lost in a situation he had no room to be lost in. He aimed his rifle at the troops and began to fire until he had to switch clips. “ This is Nebula Seven, we are inbound with air strike.
“ We’ve got to get inside! Help me carry Whittaker!” Mcleod commanded. Ramrod helped him carry the body to Kingsley’s location, who broke down upon the sight. Wyman followed closely, running remarkably on his wounded leg. The whistling of missiles screamed overhead and thundered upon the enemy troops.
Soon after Ramrod ran to the door and peeked outside.
Bullets snapped close to his head on the bricks around him. “ Sir, we’re surrounded.” he reported. Mcleod shook his head thought. When he couldn’t think of what to do he kneeled beside Kingsley who was sobbing over the death of Whittaker.
Ramrod would have loved to sob along, but now was not the time.
The team was close and had been together for four years, fighting terrorism in a special operations organization not known to most of the world called the C.R.O.W., the abbreviation of Courage, Respect, Obedient, and Wayward, or unpredictable.
Ramrod leaned out the doorway and killed three gun toting enemies.
A bullet snapped beside his head and he leaned back inside the building. “ What about the evacuation?” questioned Ramrod. Mcleod looked up seemingly lost.
“ I didn’t get a reply.” he said. Ramrod grunted. He pushed his throat mike and said, “ H.Q. this is Sergeant Ramrod from Lieutenant Mcleod’s squad. Do you copy?”.
No reply came from the radio. Ramrod tried again but this time a voice came back over the radio. “ H.Q. to CROW Four, the air strike disrupted our communication, do you need evac? Over.” .
Mcleod spoke up on his mike. “ This is Mcleod. I have two men seriously wounded and one man dead. We need immediate evac, I’m transmitting our location now. Over.” he said pushing a button on his GPS. Ramrod waited in silence for the reply.
“ Roger that CROW Four, are there hostiles in the area? Over.”
“ Yes sir, but they don’t stand a chance against the choppers. Over.”
“ Roger, I’m sending two Black Hawks. ETA to your location, ten minutes. Over.” Mcleod released his mike and sighed relief. After eight minutes Ramrod threw two smoke grenades.
“ Let’s get ready to load up.” Mcleod said. The Black Hawks soon flew in and opened fire on the hostiles. Dust swirled and nearly blinded the team as they loaded onto the roaring helicopter. Ramrod watched with sorrowful eyes as they lifted off.
He knew he’d never forget the moments, and finally he expressed his sorrow for his downed comrade.