Smitty City

A dull pain radiated through my limbs as I cowered in the corner of a classroom in an antiquated school building. The loud silence of anticipation hurt my ears as I waited - consumed with fear. With my gun on it's mark, I didn't move a muscle though the blood had stopped circulating in my legs because of the crouched position I had assumed. The pitch black, abandoned classroom was my fortress. I prepared for the ambush.

Only fifty yards from my position, the Blackhawk landed outside with a subtle roar. Within seconds the Rangers had blown the front door in. In his office, the headmaster turned from his book to find an assault rifle pointed directly at this head. Before he had time to utter the words of protest, zip cuffs bound his arms behind his back. He was shoved to his knees.

Two stun grenades were thrown down the hall outside my locked classroom building. It was the loudest noise I had ever heard in my life. The flash of the grenades were so fierce that the concrete walls that surrounded me exposed its radiance. My death was inevitable, but I would be vindicated if at least one man felt the fatal wrath of my weapon before my life was cut short.

The Rangers moved to the end of the hall and began fusing doors. Loud explosions explained the fate of the wood as each entrance was cleared. My unarmed confidant was apprehended in the room next to me. He was escorted, alongside the headmaster, to the Blackhawk that waited outside. Each stun grenade got more deafening as the men cleared the rooms making their way to my fortress. Mine was the last room to search.

As the men began to fuse the door that protected my position, everything went silent. I could no longer hear the black bird outside - I could no longer hear my heart beating. I picked up a faint breathing that I thought was my own...I quickly realized that it was the inhale and exhale of the German Sheppard that accompanied the men outside my door.

I braced my body and mind for the blast, but it wasn't enough. The scream of the explosion jarred my body out of it's perfect position. I reset just in time to feel the nine charges of the stun grenade that illuminated my dark dwelling. As soon as my eyes adjusted from the nine, brilliant flashes and I saw the first set of the glowing green eyes, I started firing. I squeezed off about four or five rounds before three Rangers entered, turned their assault rifles on the cowering terrorist, and put twenty of their own rounds directly in the center of my torso. The first bullet hit my trigger finger. I had no prayer surviving the rest.

I lay still in the corner of the dark classroom as one of the soldiers took my weapon and checked me for explosives. They surveyed the rest of the room before moving out.

It was 1 a.m.