Village of Pualmo. Just north east of Brasilia, Brazil. June 26th. 2016. 0235 hours. ________________________________________ [i]It was a war zone in every sense of the word. Recently, the LNO had been carving out areas of South America, battling cartels and governments, and winning. Eventually, the capital was taken and the US Embassy was surrounded, essentially being held hostage which led to a US and Brazilian led invasion to take back the compound. Air raid sirens were going off, gunfire and small explosions were constant, and at this time of night, those various flashes lit up the night like fireworks. There were occasional screams, people yelling in the distance, and people running down the streets to flee when they thought it was safe. The smell was constantly changing. One moment, gunpowder was in the air, while the next it could be simply flames. The stink of death was there also, and so was the smell of destruction in the form of dust from any of the myriads of buildings that were destroyed to more or lesser degrees. The night sky was not dark; it was lit up bright and orange and then riddled with huge, distinct beams of search lights. It was a war zone. Itchy made his way through the streets, sticking as best he could to dark spots, keeping out of the open as often as possible. He was in Fallujah with Marine Force Recon and Syria with the U.S. Army and both were hellish. This, this was something else. This was an entire city tearing and shooting itself apart. Itchy was alone, but he'd come here with a group of 3 SEALS. Unfortunately, one was wounded, and another killed, all because a girl with a doll was somewhere unexpected, and she screamed. Since then, the four had been under attack or avoiding patrols of LNO paramilitaries. When pinned down, the two men simply told Itchy to go, that they "got this." One injured man, limited ammo...Itchy figured they were dead and that they had given him the means to escape the building and get to the target. The whole revenge thing didn’t apply here, he wasn’t going to “get the objective for them” and all that. But he would accomplish the mission. He could see the roof of the target building ahead and was about to exit an alley and cross the street when 2 modified Mercedez's ripped through the street. Itchy ducked back into the alley for a few moments before poking out his head and making sure it was clear. He raised his silenced M14 SOCOM to his shoulder and moved quickly across the street. He heard soldiers yelling, not more than 100 yards behind him, but that didn't concern him now. He moved through the next alley and came to another street, one that was almost void of activity. One would not think that less than 50 feet away was the General of LNO, one of the most powerful and feared men in the world, a man capable of going to war with the United States and Brazil. The man Itchy and the group had been sent to kill. He moved across the street and along the front of a building when around the corner came two LNO soldiers. He would have let them go but they were about to turn in his direction. The first shot caught them both unaware as it took one in the temple. The second soldier hardly reacted, but turned fast enough to take this round in the right eye socket. Itchy moved and stepped over them, hardly noticing and not caring that one of those he stepped over was a boy that couldn't have been over 14. The AK 47 seemed to be bigger than both of his arms. He dragged the bodies inside the building and continued on, peeking around the corner at the target building. Again he was about to turn the corner and make his way to the building when a small convoy of about 6 vehicles, including one armored personnel vehicle, raced up to the HVT's building and troops deployed in protective circles. Obviously, they were there to move the General. Itchy cursed under his breath and decided on a rather simple plan. Not the smartest, not the safest, but the objective was the objective. He could worry about consequences later. He waited for a moment or two, but laid down on the floor in the prone position, the most stable for firing, and he began to relax, finding his breath and focusing. The General walked out a moment later, stopped to point and bark an order that he never finished, because from less than 50 yards away, Itchy fired a 7.62mm round that ripped through the man's neck. The men around him raced into action, a few shielding the body of the General while the vast majority of the over 40 men focused on where the shot had been fired from, and that focus was in the form of dozens of rounds being fired every second. Itchy moved quickly, feeling and hearing rounds whip past and impact homes and the ground around him. He went to take cover in a building but as he was, soldiers behind him opened fire and an SUV shot around the corner and opened fire. Itchy moved to the alley, bullets slamming into the wooden home all around him, showering him with splinters. He was almost at the end of the alley when he heard the distinct sound of an RPG behind him. He didn't move fast enough and projectile hit a dumpster behind him and Itchy was unconscious almost immediately. For the next 2 hours and 28 minutes, Itchy was held and tortured by LNO members as he moved in and out of consciousness. When asked who he was, he'd give them his name and answer questions. "[b][b][i]Justin Beiber. Delta Force. Here to kill Adolph Hitler. Remember the alamo.[/i][/b][/b]" Most distinctly, he remembered the drill and how as it went in, it pulled his skin with it. And how it bit into bone. And the smell. He could hear screams, but they seemed far away. But they were his. He remembered just hoping to die. He remembered those 2 hours and 28 minutes more clearly than almost any other event in his life. Itchy KNEW he was going to die and was simply trying to make it happen sooner. At one point he blacked out as his body dealt with the pain, only to wake up to the room being lit up brightly, mainly from the outside via high intensity search lights. Someone picked his chin up and Itchy heard "--of ours" before passing out again. Jon could see that the man was out of it, in some state of shock, but he could see the man smiling when he came to. “You’re good brother,” Jon said. He was saved. By some unfortunate happenstance, coalition forces stumbled upon the building and breached. Itchy would live. He's also get a commendation. When it was handed to him, he looked up and saw a face. It confused him and he dropped the commendation as the boy looked at Itchy. It was one of the younger boys Itchy had killed, where and when, he couldn't remember. Maybe it was all of them.[/i] ________________________________________ CDC Facility, Fort Leonard Wood, MS. October 30th 2017. ________________________________________ Jon sat up suddenly. He looked around, confused and panicked. The military channel was on the TV and there were explosions and gunfire as Marines fought in Hue City. He looked at his bed. His hands were on his back. He was sweating. Something wasn’t right. He remembered the award being presented. There was no flashback then. The man accepted the award with a smile and a handshake. The problem was, this wasn’t the first dream. His dreams were slowly being invaded by distorted flashbacks. And more recently, he began to have flashes while losing focus while he was awake. It had to be what was on the TV. Next time, he'd turn off the military channel and try to find baywatch or some show that would lead him to a lot more fun of a place. Then after over 7 months of isolation, something hit Jon. He went to the channel guide and began looking for SOME form of adult entertainment....