That shook me. This was personal. I took aim with my M1A and fired at the leader. It was an easy shot, about one hundred yards. My round slammed into his shoulder, spinning him around, causing him to lose the radio. At the sound of my shot, the four ambushers spun towards the tree line, making themselves easy targets for our rifles. Tommy, Charlie, and John fired as one and three attackers went down immediately. I fired at the fourth and was rewarded with him falling to the ground, clutching his throat.

I burst from cover and ran towards the leader. I needed to get to him before he could radio whoever he was talking to. Charlie ran with me while Tommy and John ran back to the vehicles. The leader had stood up and was searching for his radio when we ran up to him.

“Don’t move!” I yelled aiming at the man’s back. Blood was on his shoulder and was staining his combat vest. “Get your hands up!” Shaking hands were raised and I could see sweat starting at the man’s neck. Charlie checked on the rest of the crew and called out from the side. “All dead.” The man’s shoulders sagged at the news.

“Keep your hands up and turn around.” I said. The man slowly turned and faced me, his little eyes staring hatred at me once again. I knew those eyes and I knew that hatred.

“Well, well. Dane Blake. I wondered when I would see you again.” I moved in close and shoved the rifle barrel into his neck. I removed his sidearm and knife then backed up. “Put your arms down.” He winced in pain as he complied. I lowered the rifle but kept him covered. “How did you know we would be coming?” I asked, keeping my voice low.