Chapter Text
8.12
Graves cracked his knuckles as he sat back in his chair. He was at his base, watching over his men as they carried out another mission for General Shepherd. It was supposed to be easy, drop off some supplies and get the hell out of there. Hardly anything in the military was easy.
“So what exactly are we carrying this time, Graves?” Erikson asks.
“If I told ya, I’d have to kill ya…” Graves replies
“I’d bet he’d do it too,” Vance chuckles, lightly punching Erikson’s shoulder. Erikson laughs, rolling his eyes.
“It’s nothing but a milk run boys. Guns for the good guys. You’ll be back at HQ for breakfast,” Graves tells them. “Don’t shit the bed and there will be bonuses all around. Find me when you get back.”
A choir of ‘Yep, yeps’ filled Graves’ ears making him smile. He doesn't know when the boys had picked up the habit, but he has to admit it was cute.
“Shepherds waiting for a sit rep as well, don’t leave him hanging. Out” Graves says before turning off his side of the communication.
“Three containers…” Vance says.
“That’s a lot of fuckin’ milk,” Dipaolo chuckles.
“Thirsty friends,” Erikson replies, smiling at Dipaolo in the review mirror. Even though it’s hidden by the mask covering the bottom of his face, Dipaolo can see the crinkle in the corners of his eyes that give him away. Dipaolo gives him his own hidden smile.
“Shadow-2 to Gold Eagle Actual,” Erikson says into the comms, waiting for Shepherd to respond.
“Send traffic,” the general’s voice comes through.
“Three Shadow victors exiting highway 7-Zulu, no issues, Actual,” Erikson tells him.
“Copy. Get that cargo delivered on time… do not fail. Eagle out.”
“Do not fail,” Vance mimics. “Told you this shit was important.”
Dipaolo watches as the truck in front of them comes to a stop, Erikson having to slow down himself. “What’s this?”
“3, this is Eirkson, what’s going on up there?” Erikson asks through comms.
“Got a vehicle in the road,” the Shadow replies.
“Stand by, we’ll come up there,” Erikson replies. He moves around the truck in front of them.
“Graves, Vance. Be advised, we’ve got a hold-up. Sorting it out now,” Vance tells their commander.
A breath hitches in his lungs. He knew something was going to happen to them. He was hoping it was nothing major.
“Handle it,” he said, steadying his voice and keeping the nerves out of it. “Keep the line moving.”
“Roger that,” Vance replies.
When they arrive at the front of the line, they can hear Shadow 3-1 shouting at the man blocking their way from moving forward.
“I don’t like this,” Erikson says.
“His Arabic is atrocious,” Vance mutters.
“Dip, lean out and cover,” Erikson says. Dipaolo nods, leaning out of the back window, gun at the ready.
Erikson sighs, watching Shadow 3-1 struggle. “Vance, Dip, go help him.”
Before they can even think about getting out of the car, a soldier pops out of the other man's truck and opens fire. Dipaolo is quick to fire back, taking the man out but theres more.
“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Vance yells.
“3-1 is down!” someone yells.
“Light ‘em up, Dip!” Eirkson yells.
“Who the fuck are these guys!?” Vance yells.
The truck that was once blocking them rams into Shadow 3-1’s car, throwing it over the edge.
“Not Al Qatala!” Erikson replies.
More men pop out from the truck, opening fire on the Shadows.
“All stations!” Eirkson yells into comms as he drives the car backward away from the enemy. “Troops in contact! Taking effective fire. Multiple casualties!”
Graves' heart sinks. No! “Eliminate that threat, Shadows!”
“This is Gold Eagle Actual. DO NOT LOSE THAT CARGO!” Shepherd yells.
Dipaolo covers his face as an RPG touches down, blowing up the car in front of them. He hears Vance and Erikson yells around him but his ears have blown out, it’s just ringing at this point. Eirkson tries driving away from the shooting again but they’re surrounded.
“Actual, requesting QRF!” Graves yells, a slight quiver in his voice.
“Negative, we fight with the weapons we have,” Shepherd replies.
“General! They need help!” Graves yells.
“You are my help! Now fix this!” Shepherd says.
Graves seethes, slamming his fist down on the desk, making it rattle.
“All stations, we got Russian PMCs out here,” Erikson says.
“Repeat, Russin?” Graves asks.
“Enemy is Russian!” Erikson replies, shooting vaguely heard in the background.
“Goddamit Graves, you said the route was clear!” Shepherd yells at him.
It was!
“Graves! We need reinforcements!” Erikson yells.
“Actual, my boys are getting stitched up! They need air support!” Graves sounds desperate, and he is. Those boys are his life.
“We can’t do that Graves and you know that” Shepherd replies.
Graves curses, slamming his fist down again, a pen falling from the desk.
“Get down!” Vance yells.
But that was it. Dipaolo’s vision is flooded with reds and oranges before it goes completely dark. The ringing in his ears becomes more intense. He slowly opens his eyes, looking around him. His heart sinks as he sees the lifeless bodies of Erikson and Vance, still stuck in the car with him that is slowly burning them alive. He hears Graves in his ears but can’t comprehend what’s being said.
“Erikson…,” he says weekly. “Vance…”
Dipaolo curses as he crawls out of the car through a broken open window in the back.
“Dipaolo?” Graves' voice asks.
“Double tap them, they might still be alive,” the enemy says outside the car.
Graves curses as he tries to get ahold of his men. He screams at Shepherd to get them support but the general continues to deny him.
“Graves!” Dipaolo yells. “They’ve got the radio-”
And then there's a gunshot.
And Graves' blood runs cold.