Ok, I apologize in advance because I'm having computer issues with getting the format on this thing correct. Just take it as it is and let me know what you think. Just the first chapter/prologue, so constructive criticism please 
James slammed the pedal down hard, the Humvee’s engine revving up as if an intimidating beast. Gun fire was cracking all around him and his men, the 7.62 millimeter bullets from the AK-47’s pounding the armor of the vehicle.
“Get on that .50, NOW!” the young man screamed from the driver’s seat. Seconds later another man, not much older, hopped up from behind him as he had been providing cover with his M4 assault rifle and cautiously hoisted himself into the gunner position behind the massive .50 caliber machine gun. James heard a cacophony of deep beats as the gun roared to life, tearing through the concrete walls of the building that was housing the Iraqi insurgents that had ambushed them. Both James and his gunner, whom he called Raven after an old nickname they had given each other as kids, knew that the gunners hiding below the windows in that building would be a bunch of bloody masses by now. Even so, James didn’t let off the gas.
It seemed they were in the clear. The other two vehicles, both big GMC Suburbans, were in front of them. A stray bullet would smack the Humvee again, but the main threat seemed to have been eliminated.
“GO, GO, GO,” Raven yelled. It was then he noticed a man appear on top of the building, holding a long tube. “RPG! RPG! SWERVE!” The man had the launcher hoisted just as Raven aimed and let loose with the .50 cal, but it was too late, the rocket propelled grenade was on its way. The young fighter ducked from his position in the gunner’s stand and laid down in the confines of the Humvee, grabbing whatever he could to hang on.
James jerked the Humvee to the side, but the unpredictable nature of an RPG in flight didn’t give him much of a chance to determine which way to go. The missile churned around in midair, and James could do nothing but grip the steering wheel with a death hold as the grenade impacted just behind their rear right wheel.
‘WHOOMPH!’
The explosion lifted the back of the Humvee up slightly, just enough to get it out of control, and
it landed back down on its side and began to roll.
Both men inside held on to no avail; they were tossed around inside the massive vehicle, Raven more so, until it came to a stop on the driver’s side. James shook his head, trying to clear his vision and stop his ears ringing. His training kicked in and he quickly unbuckled his seat belt and crawled to the back of the Humvee where Raven was propping himself up.
“You alright?” James asked as he grabbed one of their M4’s.
“I’m fine, I think I may have busted up my leg a little and my head feels like it just rolled around inside a Humvee that was hit by an RPG, but I can fight.” Raven offered a bit of a smile as he took the M4 James handed him.
“Smart ass,” James quipped as he popped open the door that was facing the sky. Luckily the weight of the vehicle had kept it from rolling too much, which was probably why Raven was still alive since he hadn’t been buckled in.
The two men jumped out of the crumpled mass and covered each other with shots down towards the building, taking up a position in which the Humvee was between them and the building. By now they were about a hundred yards from the insurgents, though the AK-47’s bullets were easily reaching the distance to the wreckage.
Both men popped out from behind their cover and placed a few more shots down range, the EoTech ACOG scopes making it much easier to down their targets from that range.
“Got a couple moving to the second floor with another RPG,” James informed Raven. The two worked in precision to down the two men as they emerged, coverless, on top of the building, a quick burst from each weapon downing the threat.
A horn blasted from behind them as one of the two GMC 4x4’s pulled up, and two other men opened up with their M4’s as well.
“COME ON, GET IN!” one yelled as they threw open the doors. The men in the GMC covered James and Raven as they retreated back into the confines of the black SUV before the driver slammed the gas down and caught up with the other vehicle.
A few minutes of silence passed before anyone spoke.
“You two live a hardcore life, y’know that?” one of the men, a muscular, black American commented.
“Hammer, I told you when you two joined up with us that it wasn’t going to be like the Marines. We don’t have all the support you guys had. It’s us, our wits, and our skill,” James replied. “No fancy airstrikes or choppers.”
“Well, better y’all than us. At least you had the Humvee,” Hammer replied, his deep, inner city voice rumbling through the inside of the car.
“Yeah,” the other man piped up, “we’d all be dead if it had hit this thing.”
“Come on, you two ex-marines are two of the hardest dudes I know. You guys were in Fallujah, this can’t have been the closest you’ve come to death.” Raven exclaimed.
“No, it isn’t, but in the Marines it’s never four versus thirty either,” the fourth man smirked.
“Well get used to it, A.V., ‘cause this is how we do it,” James replied as he made himself comfortable in the back seat, all the while keeping a lookout for any suspicious cars on the road. A.V. was the name James has quickly endowed upon Will when they had first met because of his expertise with the electronics and communications gear James’ team rolled with.
“A.V.?” Will had asked.
“Yeah. Audio visual,” James had responded simply.
The same had happened with Hammer, or Shawn, when he had joined up alongside Will. James gave him the name Hammer because, during a sparring match between the big man and Raven, Shawn had tossed Raven around like a rag doll. At the end of the match, Shawn had went to give Raven a friendly slap on the shoulder and had done it so hard that Raven’s feet sunk a couple of inches into the Iraqi desert sand.
As for Raven, or Stephen, he and James had been friends for years, and that was just a name they had used back in their heyday of playing video games and sports. It stuck, and that was now his call sign. James, or Saber, as his team called him, had received his nickname from his perfectionist attitude and the way he could reach out and hurt someone without physically touching them, much like a sword. Obviously, this meant he was their sniper, as well.
“How’re the other men up front doing?” Saber asked the driver, Ahmad.
“They’re fine, just a little shaken. I don’t think they were expecting that.”
Saber’s team had been contracted to escort a media team throughout Iraq, from the border to the Green Zone in Baghdad. This meant going through some serious hell holes, but it also meant great pay. This service as Private Military Contractors had escalated when Saber and Raven left the Navy SEALS, both with the idea that they could put their training to good use making a great bit of money. They had worked alone for about six months, but had just hired on Hammer and A.V. to make a real team out of it.
The rest of the ride to Baghdad was uneventful, yet tense, as everyone was waiting to hear another yell of “RPG!” Luckily it never came, and the group arrived in Baghdad later that night to a surprisingly peaceful section of an otherwise war torn country.
The men got out of the vehicles and the media team rushed to give the men their payment, still looking as if they had just seen a ghost. Saber thought it hilarious that the three members unpacked all of their cameras and media equipment and checked in to the general safety of the hotel quicker than his team could each grab a rucksack and walk inside. They must have been scared crapless back there, he wondered.
It wasn’t long after that all four members of the team were inside, finally able to relax and have a beer. They sat up for a bit and talked about their next contract, then finally sidled off to shower and sleep.
James slammed the pedal down hard, the Humvee’s engine revving up as if an intimidating beast. Gun fire was cracking all around him and his men, the 7.62 millimeter bullets from the AK-47’s pounding the armor of the vehicle.
“Get on that .50, NOW!” the young man screamed from the driver’s seat. Seconds later another man, not much older, hopped up from behind him as he had been providing cover with his M4 assault rifle and cautiously hoisted himself into the gunner position behind the massive .50 caliber machine gun. James heard a cacophony of deep beats as the gun roared to life, tearing through the concrete walls of the building that was housing the Iraqi insurgents that had ambushed them. Both James and his gunner, whom he called Raven after an old nickname they had given each other as kids, knew that the gunners hiding below the windows in that building would be a bunch of bloody masses by now. Even so, James didn’t let off the gas.
It seemed they were in the clear. The other two vehicles, both big GMC Suburbans, were in front of them. A stray bullet would smack the Humvee again, but the main threat seemed to have been eliminated.
“GO, GO, GO,” Raven yelled. It was then he noticed a man appear on top of the building, holding a long tube. “RPG! RPG! SWERVE!” The man had the launcher hoisted just as Raven aimed and let loose with the .50 cal, but it was too late, the rocket propelled grenade was on its way. The young fighter ducked from his position in the gunner’s stand and laid down in the confines of the Humvee, grabbing whatever he could to hang on.
James jerked the Humvee to the side, but the unpredictable nature of an RPG in flight didn’t give him much of a chance to determine which way to go. The missile churned around in midair, and James could do nothing but grip the steering wheel with a death hold as the grenade impacted just behind their rear right wheel.
‘WHOOMPH!’
The explosion lifted the back of the Humvee up slightly, just enough to get it out of control, and
it landed back down on its side and began to roll.
Both men inside held on to no avail; they were tossed around inside the massive vehicle, Raven more so, until it came to a stop on the driver’s side. James shook his head, trying to clear his vision and stop his ears ringing. His training kicked in and he quickly unbuckled his seat belt and crawled to the back of the Humvee where Raven was propping himself up.
“You alright?” James asked as he grabbed one of their M4’s.
“I’m fine, I think I may have busted up my leg a little and my head feels like it just rolled around inside a Humvee that was hit by an RPG, but I can fight.” Raven offered a bit of a smile as he took the M4 James handed him.
“Smart ass,” James quipped as he popped open the door that was facing the sky. Luckily the weight of the vehicle had kept it from rolling too much, which was probably why Raven was still alive since he hadn’t been buckled in.
The two men jumped out of the crumpled mass and covered each other with shots down towards the building, taking up a position in which the Humvee was between them and the building. By now they were about a hundred yards from the insurgents, though the AK-47’s bullets were easily reaching the distance to the wreckage.
Both men popped out from behind their cover and placed a few more shots down range, the EoTech ACOG scopes making it much easier to down their targets from that range.
“Got a couple moving to the second floor with another RPG,” James informed Raven. The two worked in precision to down the two men as they emerged, coverless, on top of the building, a quick burst from each weapon downing the threat.
A horn blasted from behind them as one of the two GMC 4x4’s pulled up, and two other men opened up with their M4’s as well.
“COME ON, GET IN!” one yelled as they threw open the doors. The men in the GMC covered James and Raven as they retreated back into the confines of the black SUV before the driver slammed the gas down and caught up with the other vehicle.
A few minutes of silence passed before anyone spoke.
“You two live a hardcore life, y’know that?” one of the men, a muscular, black American commented.
“Hammer, I told you when you two joined up with us that it wasn’t going to be like the Marines. We don’t have all the support you guys had. It’s us, our wits, and our skill,” James replied. “No fancy airstrikes or choppers.”
“Well, better y’all than us. At least you had the Humvee,” Hammer replied, his deep, inner city voice rumbling through the inside of the car.
“Yeah,” the other man piped up, “we’d all be dead if it had hit this thing.”
“Come on, you two ex-marines are two of the hardest dudes I know. You guys were in Fallujah, this can’t have been the closest you’ve come to death.” Raven exclaimed.
“No, it isn’t, but in the Marines it’s never four versus thirty either,” the fourth man smirked.
“Well get used to it, A.V., ‘cause this is how we do it,” James replied as he made himself comfortable in the back seat, all the while keeping a lookout for any suspicious cars on the road. A.V. was the name James has quickly endowed upon Will when they had first met because of his expertise with the electronics and communications gear James’ team rolled with.
“A.V.?” Will had asked.
“Yeah. Audio visual,” James had responded simply.
The same had happened with Hammer, or Shawn, when he had joined up alongside Will. James gave him the name Hammer because, during a sparring match between the big man and Raven, Shawn had tossed Raven around like a rag doll. At the end of the match, Shawn had went to give Raven a friendly slap on the shoulder and had done it so hard that Raven’s feet sunk a couple of inches into the Iraqi desert sand.
As for Raven, or Stephen, he and James had been friends for years, and that was just a name they had used back in their heyday of playing video games and sports. It stuck, and that was now his call sign. James, or Saber, as his team called him, had received his nickname from his perfectionist attitude and the way he could reach out and hurt someone without physically touching them, much like a sword. Obviously, this meant he was their sniper, as well.
“How’re the other men up front doing?” Saber asked the driver, Ahmad.
“They’re fine, just a little shaken. I don’t think they were expecting that.”
Saber’s team had been contracted to escort a media team throughout Iraq, from the border to the Green Zone in Baghdad. This meant going through some serious hell holes, but it also meant great pay. This service as Private Military Contractors had escalated when Saber and Raven left the Navy SEALS, both with the idea that they could put their training to good use making a great bit of money. They had worked alone for about six months, but had just hired on Hammer and A.V. to make a real team out of it.
The rest of the ride to Baghdad was uneventful, yet tense, as everyone was waiting to hear another yell of “RPG!” Luckily it never came, and the group arrived in Baghdad later that night to a surprisingly peaceful section of an otherwise war torn country.
The men got out of the vehicles and the media team rushed to give the men their payment, still looking as if they had just seen a ghost. Saber thought it hilarious that the three members unpacked all of their cameras and media equipment and checked in to the general safety of the hotel quicker than his team could each grab a rucksack and walk inside. They must have been scared crapless back there, he wondered.
It wasn’t long after that all four members of the team were inside, finally able to relax and have a beer. They sat up for a bit and talked about their next contract, then finally sidled off to shower and sleep.
