Location: Kunar Province, Afghanistan
Unit: 2nd Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment (attached as trial deployment)
The heat hit like a furnace the second the ramp dropped.
Zane gripped his rifle tight as the CH-47 touched down in the valley. Dust whipped across his face, stinging his eyes. He didn't flinch. He'd been training for this moment since he could stand. But now it was real.
This was war.
"MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"
His team hit the dirt, spread wide, rifles ready. They were here to assist Afghan commandos clearing out a suspected insurgent compound. Routine mission, they said.
Zane didn't believe in "routine."
Inside the Compound
The house looked dead. No lights. No sound.
But something felt off. Zane felt it before anyone else did.
He raised a hand. "Movement, third window, left side."
"Could be a goat," one Ranger said.
Zane didn't argue. He aimed down his optic.
Then the wall exploded.
A deafening BOOM ripped through the air. Fire and concrete rained down. Two men were down before they even knew what hit them. Gunfire erupted from the treeline.
Ambush.
Contact Front
Zane dropped behind cover, shouldering his M4. The air was filled with shouting, bullets, and the smell of blood.
He didn't hesitate.
Tap-tap.
Two rounds. Center mass. Target dropped.
He moved with precision, flanking through the outer wall breach while his squad pinned the enemy down.
His heart didn't race.
His hands didn't shake.
He was in it.
He pushed into the structure — room to room, clearing fast, alone. The adrenaline didn't cloud him — it sharpened him. Every breath, every movement, was automatic.
He turned a corner—
Enemy with a vest.
Too close to shoot.
Zane slammed his shoulder into the man, knocking him through a doorway and following with a knife, fast and clean.
The detonator dropped from his hand. Zane kicked it away.
Enemy: neutralized.
Extraction
They lost one. Corporal Diaz.
The others limped out, covered in dust, blood, and silence.
Zane walked beside the body bag. Quiet. Focused.
Sergeant Linfield caught up with him. "You did good in there, Cross. Better than most. That instinct… you born with it?"
"No," Zane said. "I earned it."
Linfield nodded. "Command's watching. Keep this up, you might get tapped."
Zane didn't smile.
Didn't nod.
Just kept walking.
That Night
He sat alone, cleaning his weapon by moonlight. Same ritual. Same motion.
In his head, he replayed the fight frame by frame.
He didn't feel pride.
He didn't feel guilt.
He felt readiness.
Next mission. New war. Deeper in.