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I spawned at main. Another ground pounding grunt reporting for my virtual duties.

Bright eyed and bushy-tailed with the confidence that I have now been playing extremely well in my recent PR campaigns. I've become comfortable with my rifle and eliminated the fear of rushing in under certain conditions.

Our squad leader was a stern and monotone man, but he didn't come off as rude nor impolite. His barking of orders were just rough enough to convey that he knows what he is doing. Right, these are the type of squad leaders that garner and earn my attention, respect and the death dealing services of my rifle.

Full of enthusiasm as we all crammed ourselves in a couple of HMMWVs. I manned the .50 cal and took playful swivels to test my reflex and sensitivity. A very scenic route was taken through part of a sandy oasis and into the west of the city but so far no tangos in view. The sight of burning vehicle roadblocks and eerily deserted sun drenched streets do begin to bring about cautious feelings though as we take a right turn and start heading northeast.

There was a dark spec on top of an adjacent rooftop maybe three or four city blocks away that caught my eye with unbreakable attention. As we drew closer in the HMMWVs this dark spec began to properly form into the back of a RPG toting Insurgent. He had his back to us though, hunched over and waiting for his kill like a mountain lion about to pounce on unexpected wildlife.

Problem is, the HMMWVs are louder then one would like and surely the roar of the engines has reached the Insurgent's ears by now. We stop about 100 meters up a shallow hill directly north of the building that houses our neighborhood roof dweller, the .50 cal opens up. Bits of a nearby wall spit out chunks of dusty debris as I adjust my aim. My shots are relentless, the enemy is chewed up like children's bubblegum.

Suddenly this once ghostly town of empty markets and dirt strewn roads becomes alive and teeming with activity now. We start taking fire like we're the bad end of a shooting gallery. I let the .50 cal rip down alley way corners and waist high walls but quickly end up out of ammo and in desperate need of a reload. A timely reload might I add, no good. I'm force to eventually abandon my commanding view of the HMMWV's gunner position and take cover with the rest of my squad by a vent that lines the side of the building on the right flank of our vehicles.

The squad leader yells out and directs us to take cover in a couple of shacks about 30 meters northeast of us. As the squad rounds the corner there was a techie who was obviously unwary of just how close we were. Everyone of us open up as the techie peels off. Almost immediately as this techie pulls back another enemy technical, out of nowhere like a choreographed movie set, comes crashing into the wall north of us.

At the center of attention now is the Insurgent who is manning the mounted machine gun on the back of this poorly driven pick-up truck. He was down faster then the driver can hop out of his drivers seat, who luckily manages to get around the wall through a hail of gunfire. We quickly set up in the shacks and take a defensive position. The welcoming mat is out and the muzzles are at the windows.

After the most stressful two minutes of my virtual life most of the squad is down and critically wounded including our squad leader. It's just me, my SAW, and our Rifleman who shared the eastern most shack with me since we ran in here after the Benny Hill inspired techie crash. He was scanning our surroundings from the door which points south as I watch both a west side window and an east side doorway with nerve wrecking bravado and an itchy trigger finger.

Somewhere out there is our drunk driver turned Insurgent and a whole slew of his baddie friends. A break in immersion comes as my screen bleeds out the updates of our squad - who inexplicably leave and crown our Rifleman with the role of squad leading a now two man squad. He informs me of his newly appointed and equally unwanted position as I swing around from my constant look outs. Crouched directly under the window looking out the eastern doorway I hear and feel the force of deadly shotgun blast overhead.

My new squad leader is down and before I start the eulogy I get up and swing the SAW out the window shooting wildly. Thoughts process on my next move before the shells hit the ground. Being more battle inclined now I choose to run out the doorway and meet my enemy who I predicted would be flanking around and coming in to crash the party. I hate parties, especially surprise parties, and after a quick face to face spray I was certain the dead drunk hated surprises as well. Being too confident in his shotgun, he didn't see it coming.





Thanks for reading. I'll post part two soon, didn't want to get TL;DR replies. Hope you enjoyed it, and yes this is based off a real match I had a couple weeks ago.