by Justin Sloan
“Stick them with the pointy end,” Williams said to his right. “You know which side that is, don’t you?”
“Funny,” Derrins replied.
“I mean, if I cut the enemy, they’d bleed out. But this sim doesn’t allow for bleeding out like that, so…?”
“It’ll likely kick them out,” I said, turning to them even though we were supposed to be focused ahead. We had all just gotten here, so it wasn’t likely the enemy could be so close this soon. “Meaning, if you land a strike that would normally result in their death, even if it wouldn’t be immediate, I’m guessing here it’s immediate.”
“That’s how it worked in the other sims,” Wingate said, and it was the first time I’d noticed she came through. She returned my look and laughed. “You’ve changed, Major.”
“We all have,” I replied, turning back to join Relic. Apparently, I looked more like a Marine when in uniform. Go figure.
“So… what about slit wrists?” Derrins asked the captain.
She said she had no idea, but I missed the rest of it as I turned to Relic and said, “Your teams know what they’re doing, that’s a given. But what about the enemy? Have we seen them in action?”
“Deadliest fighters are likely the ones they’ve acquired from Central Asia, but they might also be the least committed, since they were the last countries to be pulled into the web.”
“We don’t know who we’re fighting?” I asked.
“Part of how it works,” he replied, shaking his head. “Could also be the Snow Leopards Group, for all I know. They wanted to keep it secret on both sides. Makes it more interesting, I guess.”
I nodded. Sure, I got that.
We passed by the first set of rocks, and I saw one of ours on top of the wall, scouting out the area ahead. One Marine at the front of our group waited for a signal from him before advancing, and Relic was talking about setting up a defensive perimeter when we heard a distant shout.
We all froze, listening, then heard a pop, possibly a gunshot.
A chill ran through me when a voice shouted into our comms, saying they had contact. The next sound was clearly a rifle blast. Two seconds later, the echo of the shot came from our left, and teams were moving to join the fight. Six of the larger Marines moved off to our right, and someone said something about them working to flank the enemy. I motioned the team with me to our left, figuring we could come at them from the other angle.
I charged with the rest of them, anxious to see how the combat portion of this simulated war held up. We didn’t have fancy space armor or thrusters like in the Game of Shadows sim, only our tactical gear, rifles, and Ka-Bar knives. No air strikes, no mechs or massive bombers threatening to blow us all to smithereens.
Not here—here it was all about the fight. Marksmanship and good ol’ MCMAP—the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program, which I was glad to hear was still in place. It had undergone some massive changes over the years, introducing more styles of combat as the Corps expanded its way of thinking. Before leaving the Marines, I’d even gotten up to my brown belt in the new system, and if not for my belly, would be quite the threat if someone got close to me.
With that thought, I glanced down and realized something that had felt off from the beginning but hadn’t been super obvious. The belly was gone! In fact, I felt light again, like I had two years ago. The simulation must’ve either done something to put us all in our best shape, or had references to my previous military records and adjusted accordingly.
I was going to kick some major ass, old-school style.
We passed by the large stone walls and entered a wooded area, all of this very familiar from my game. I had Derrins and his buddies, along with a couple of Marines I hadn’t gotten to know yet, while Relic and Wingate had continued up the main route. The way they figured it, the enemy would likely have set up a defensible position, not on the main path either. Maybe an ambush, but our forward units would uncover this before the main force reached it, so it might actually be Relic’s group that would be coming at their flank.
Another shot rang out, then several more in response. I waved my team forward, shouting for them to “Get some!” I wasn’t sure if Marines still said that, but it felt right at the time. Matter of fact, I thought as I charged forward, all of this felt right. Being back in the Marines, charging into action—it was like I could breathe again after so long of having a pillow stuffed in my face.
Even though it wasn’t real air at all, it tasted fresh, energizing.
Then a bullet hit the rocks next to my head, and I froze. In my day, I’d been a badass. I’d been deployed with First Recon once before and even saved lives. Now one goes off nearby and I freak out? Oh, hell no. And as the only video game guy in this sim, I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first one out of it.
I charged forward. I’m up, he sees me, I’m down. Each time I popped up, I repeated the mantra, pumping out new rounds into enemy soldiers and watching them explode into a bunch of pixels that vanished into the air like evaporating mist.
“Save some for us,” Derrins said as he ran up and took cover with me behind a section of tall, jagged rocks.
“I’m not into giving handouts,” I replied with a grin. While I’d been terrified one minute, now I was feeling the rush.
“Okay, old man,” he replied with a laugh, and then charged forward while shouting, “Watch how it’s done.”
Three others darted past me, all making it to the clump of trees ahead before I was even up and running after them. No shots came this time, and when I reached the trees, I was able to see why. We were at the top of a valley—one that wasn’t in my game. Movement caught my eye from the other side, three figures making their way down.
“This should be fun,” a Marine said from behind me, and I turned to see four more had joined us. The one who had spoken lowered himself to the prone position, aimed in, and fired. Two quick bursts, and the lead two were gone, the third scrambling for cover. The enemy lost his footing and went tumbling down the rest of the way, more shots ringing out as a group to our right tried to hit him mid-tumble. But he rolled right off of a ledge and landed head-first with a snap audible from my position, then faded out.
BAM!
A shot rang out from across the valley, and Corporal Williams cursed as his arm rippled with movement.
“Down!” I shouted, and we were all on the ground, rifles at the ready.
“My arm’s not working,” Williams said, pulling back and cursing. “They hit my arm, now it’s like it’s fallen asleep.”
“The family-friendly version,” I replied with a laugh. “Hang in there, we’ll get you through this.”
“Three o’clock,” Staff Sergeant Lau hissed, and let off the first shot. “Wily bugger.” Another shot.
Others joined, and then I caught a glimpse of leaves rustling to the left. I spun to let the other Marines take care of that jackass while I looked into this. I pulled back from the ridge so that I wouldn’t be a target, crouch-walking and peeking up over the moss-covered rocks, between openings in the shrubbery, to see if I’d just imagined the movement.
“What do we got, sir?” Williams said, moving up behind me.
“Looking into something,” I replied. “You can stay with the others.”
“I’m useless there,” he said, pulling out his Ka-Bar. “Wish they’d given us pistols, but this’ll have to do for now.”
I gave the knife a skeptical glance, but smiled. Seeing him go crazy on them with that blade would make my day.
“Fine, but stay low. I don’t want to spook them.”
We continued on like this until we found an opening in the rocks. It was the perfect spot to get a better vantage point without creating a silhouette for them to target. I inched forward, peeking around the other side where the rocks picked up again. A bird broke from the trees, flying up into the starry sky and circling, and for a moment I was caught up in the realness of this place. A breeze caught in the trees and sent a wave of rustling lea
ves our way, almost ghostly in the darkness. The peacefulness of it all was only interrupted by a new round of shots far to the right and behind us.
“There,” Williams hissed at my side, and I turned to see him pointing.
Sure enough, there was movement. It was just shadowy figures moving for now, but there was no doubt in my mind that it was the enemy, and more than just a couple of them.
“How far can you throw?” I asked.
“A grenade?” Williams looked around me, trying to gauge the distance. “Not that far.”
“Me neither.”
I turned and motioned him back, then found a good spot to climb the rocks to our left. We made it to the top, which had been at about our eye level before, and positioned ourselves so that we could use the rocky ledge—only about a foot across—as a point of stability while kind of leaning against the incline. I helped him position the rifle on the rocks so that he could fire with one hand.
“Take out as many as we can,” I said. “If they charge, have the grenade ready.”
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“You’re about to make some new fans back home,” I replied with a wink, and then aimed in, waiting.
More movement, and now one appeared, almost looking right at me. From this distance and with the shadows from the trees, all I could see was the black outfit—not so different from my own—and the glint of a rifle rising to take me out.
“Now,” I hissed, and we opened up. The man fell, tumbling down the decline. More behind him were hit, calling out as we lit up the darkness with successive four-round bursts.
With each squeeze of the trigger I tried to ensure I had a target, but seeing motion in the general area was close enough.
More movement up the hill made me think they had reinforcements incoming, but soon it became clear that they were pulling back. I adjusted my aim, and then saw two vanish as more shots came at them from my right. I couldn’t see what was happening at first, but then Sergeant Derrins’s battle cry sounded and he appeared, charging down into the valley.
“Dammit,” I said, now scanning for anyone who might take out him or the others I knew would soon follow.
Across the way, to the right, more shots exploded. Only they weren’t directed at us—one of the teams had worked its way around and had cut off the retreating enemy soldiers. Now others were charging in after Derrins, and as it became clear we were in control of the situation, even I was caught up in the moment. Adrenaline flowing and heart pounding, I moved past the rocks and went in to meet my foe.
I charged on my own, others nearby as evidenced by their shouts and bursts of gunfire. Trees whacked me in the face the closer I got to the bottom of the valley, so I lowered my head to take the brunt of it on my helmet. It was a good thing, too, or I wouldn’t have noticed the man who’d fallen earlier, swiping out at me with his sword.
My reaction was to throw myself sideways, but since I wasn’t able to see where I was going, my back slammed into a tree. It sent me rolling, and by the time I recovered, the attacker was up, lunging for me in an awkward, one-legged leap. Apparently my shot earlier had taken out his use of that leg. The blade came for my neck, but I threw up my rifle and blocked it, then kicked the man back.
He landed on his ass and then caught the butt of my rifle on his chin. I knocked his sword out of his hands, kicked him once good in the face, and then aimed in. An odd sensation came over me—one of guilt.
“It’s just a game,” I said, more to myself than anything else, finger on the trigger. This wouldn’t really kill him. I wasn’t taking away someone’s son, brother, or father. Even if I had been, this was war and I was a Marine, dammit! Still, it ate at me.
When he started laughing, confusion took over.
“You still think that?” he said, voice echoing as his translator did its job. “Not for long… Not for long.”
I blinked, confused, and steeled my nerves. “Shut up!”
“Do it. I beg you.” He was still smiling, his eyes lit up with excitement. “This is going to be fun.”
“Shut up!” I commanded again, and caught him good with the heel of my boot. It was just a simulation, so I knew it wouldn’t really hurt him, but damn it felt good. His body repositioned, and I saw silver stars on his uniform. I froze. What the hell was a general doing this far out? It didn’t make sense, although he seemed crazy enough to be one of those old-school types who charge forward at the front of his army.
“Are all Marines so… hesitant?” he asked, and lunged for his sword. I shot him in the arm, so that it fell limp an inch from the hilt.
“Who are you?” I asked, redirecting my muzzle to his face again.
“Doesn’t matter, does it?” the man said, but then shrugged. “But it makes it fun… fun when you see me again, when I come back and take your life. Omarav, then. The man who’s going to take everything from your piece of shit country, from your worthless—”
BRRT!
I’d heard enough, realizing the Marines might need me. As curious as this general made me, there certainly wasn’t time to sit around listening to him go on about his propaganda. His smile remained as he pixelated out of there, leaving me to run up the other side of the valley to find my teammates.
Only, as I ran, something he’d said bothered me. When he sees me again—did that mean he would be coming after me in the real world? Possibly, but that didn’t make a lot of sense. Someone in his position would be flagged before getting close to any entry points. He wouldn’t be able to make it into the country, let alone find me.
So that meant he had to mean he’d find me in the sim, but it wasn’t supposed to work that way. He was gone. I’d just kicked their general—or one of their generals, if they’d sent more than one—from the sim.
As I crested the incline and found Derrins grinning at me like an excited child, I tried to smile back, to revel in our little victory here. It was only one small battle of many before this war was over. One group of enemy soldiers, but many more to come. That wasn’t what worried me, though. What the general said was burrowing its way deep into my skin, and it stung. Somehow, I knew, that wasn’t the last I’d see of him.
5
“You should’ve seen me, sir,” Derrins said as he moved forward, advancing on what others who’d joined in had said was the enemy position. Several Marines had gone ahead and scouted out a defended cave, but fell back to join us when they’d heard the shouting.
I was staring off at the simulated sky and bright moon that provided ample light. Another bird circled like before, only its shape visible in silhouette. It seemed to pause, look at me, and then glitch out.
“Are there supposed to be wildlife here?” I asked.
“Sir?”
Indicating the point where the bird had been, I said, “Wildlife. You know, birds, maybe other animals?”
“From what I remember, no. Just us and the terrain. And I haven’t seen any birds or anything yet.”
“You didn’t just see that…?”
“Could be the darkness playing tricks.” He looked up, following the direction I indicated, and said, “Nothing there now, sir.”
“Right, I know. It… disappeared.”
The look of doubt in his eyes was infuriating, but I had to admit to myself that I was having my own doubts. Maybe I was letting what the enemy general said about coming back get to me a bit too much. He’d been trolling me, right? Nothing more. And the birds—maybe I was imagining them? Or maybe they weren’t supposed to be in the system, but the sim had adapted. Was it possible the enemy could’ve added them as spies or something like that? Neither side was supposed to have any sort of advanced technology. Just our rifles, blades, and grenades.
A queasy feeling worked its way through my gut, knotting and holding on tight. I hated that these emotions still hit me here, wishing I could push it away and be at the top of my game for when we hit the next batch of the enemy.
Derrins looked my way once or twice, but soon moved o
n to chat about the skirmish, leaving me to my thoughts. Right now, I preferred it that way. Some general on the front lines, excited to be killed, birds when there shouldn’t be any… what next?
I heard the crack before the bullet hit, ricocheting off my helmet. The force sent me staggering, and Derrins ran to pull me to cover while I stood there, too dazed to react.
Three shots sounded, and then one of our guys appeared, charging across the clearing to our left. His buddies followed closely with rifles aimed up at the trees ahead. Another shot came for me as I snapped out of it and ducked down behind a fallen tree trunk. A chunk of the tree blew off, and I had to wonder if the simulation worked all that out, or if they’d taken it from my game’s program.
“You’re alive,” Derrins said. He was on his back against the large, fallen tree, checking his rifle but looking my way.
“So far,” I replied, and we nodded, both turning at once to try and find our target. I wasn’t infantry, but every Marine is a rifleman, a fact that I’d proven in my days. There was also the fact that I’d played plenty of modern simulations and, while none were exactly like the real thing, I’d done some damn good work on getting it extremely close.
That’s why I wasn’t surprised that my bullet hit my mark. I spotted him tucked in a treetop just before his next shot was about to go off, this one likely to end my involvement in the sim. No thanks.
BAM!
He fell, evaporating into pixels before hitting the next branch down.
“Damn, sir!” Derrins said. He turned to me, impressed, until a chunk of wood shot off right next to him and another shot hissed through the air between us.
It was my turn to pull him down, and as our other terms engaged the enemy, we ran to the far side of our cover, checked, and then darted out to another outcropping of rocks. The design of this place reminded me very much of a paintball field—real woods rarely provided this much cover.
I was about to start calling out orders—even though I wasn’t an infantry officer, I was the highest rank within earshot—when Colonel Relic came charging in with some of his heavy hitters. He wasn’t even worried about cover, just strolling up as his boys shot into the darkness. For a second I thought they were shooting blindly, but when a couple of yelps sounded, I knew they were hitting their targets.
