“Sergeant’s Log: Friday. I’m afraid the Republic is gaining ground on us. Their weapons are more advanced than we anticipated—cleaner, faster, deadlier. They’re winning… for now. But not for long.”
A faint crackle hums beneath the recording.
“We’ve located a Data Center deep in the jungle. According to our informant, it contains everything—weapon schematics, base locations, strategic projections. If that’s true, this could shift the entire war. In and out. A mission I’ve done a thousand times… though none quite like this.”
A pause. Breathing, heavier now.
“To ensure success, I brought back Private Paul Reyes, my most trusted soldier. I tried to keep him out of this war—God knows I did—but I don’t have that luxury anymore. Not when the stakes are this high. Beyond our history in the field, he’s the best hacker I’ve ever seen. If anyone can pull this off, it’s him.”
The jungle hum leaks faintly into the audio—distant insects, wind through leaves.
“The plan is simple: our forces and drones will engage the outer defenses. While they draw fire, Paul and I insert via chopper, breach the facility, and locate the main server room. I cover him while he transfers everything onto a secured drive from HQ. He’s under strict orders not to open any files. This is bigger than us.”
Another pause—longer this time.
“He’s got a wife. Kids. Keeps pictures of them tucked in his armor. I told him this would be quick… that he’d be home before they even had time to worry. I meant it.”
A quiet exhale.
“If anything happens to him out there… I won’t be able to live with it. May God be with us.”
Click.
“This is Sergeant Mike. Signing off.”
“That should hold them off for a while.”
The bridge behind them collapses into a roaring fireball, flames licking upward as debris crashes into the river below. Smoke curls into the dense jungle canopy.
Sergeant Mike doesn’t slow. Neither does Paul.
Branches snap under their boots as they sprint through the undergrowth, lungs burning, gear clattering. The sounds of distant gunfire fade behind them, replaced by the oppressive chorus of the jungle.
Finally—
The shoreline. Open sand. Ocean stretching endlessly ahead. Extraction point.
Mike bends slightly, catching his breath, scanning the tree line out of habit.
“Well, Private…” he mutters. “We made it.”
No response.
Mike turns.
Paul stands a few feet away, motionless, staring at the hard drive in his hand like it might detonate.
“Paul?”
Still nothing.
Mike taps his comms. “Command, this is—”
A rustle.
Both men snap their heads toward the bushes. Too late.
Two guerrilla fighters burst from cover, rifles raised—
Bang. Bang.
Mike’s pistol acts before they can. Both enemies drop instantly, lifeless before they hit the ground.
Silence rushes back in.
Paul exhales sharply. “Jesus… Sarge, I didn’t even—”
“Yeah,” Mike cuts in, holstering his weapon. “That’s why I’m here.”
A beat.
“Let’s get you home.”
He switches channels.
“We require immediate extraction at the designated beach. Hostiles neutralized. Repeat—”
He hesitates, then adds:
“We may also need an air strike on our position.”
The words hang heavier than they should.
They move closer to the water. The distant thrum of helicopter blades hasn’t started yet.
Wind brushes across the sand.
Mike glances over. “You got it?”
Paul nods slowly. “Yeah. Everything we came for.”
But he doesn’t sound relieved.
“There’s… something else.”
Mike’s brow tightens. “What do you mean?”
Paul swallows. His grip tightens around the drive.
“I opened one of the files.”
Mike’s expression hardens instantly.
“I know you told me not to, but—Sarge… you need to hear this.”
“Talk.”
Paul’s voice wavers, but he pushes through.
“It’s a dossier. Internal reports. Not about weapons… about people.”
Mike says nothing.
“They’re civilians, Sarge. Villages. Families. Detainment sites. Experiments. Interrogations…” His voice cracks. “They’re not enemies. They’re victims. And we’re the ones doing it.”
The ocean feels louder now.
“All of this—” Paul lifts the drive slightly, “—it’s being covered up. Command knows. Everyone at the top knows.”
Silence stretches between them. When suddenly-
“Hand it over.”
Paul looks up, stunned. “What?”
“That file. That’s why we’re here. It gets destroyed when we get back.”
Paul takes a step back. “No.”
Mike’s jaw tightens. “Private—”
“No, Sarge. You didn’t see what I saw.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you do!” Paul snaps. “This war—this whole thing—it’s built on lies. If the people back home knew – if the world knew – it would end. It has to. We’ll all be going home, no one else has to die.”
“You’d be committing treason!”
“I’d be saving lives.”
“They’ll execute you for this.”
“They might,” Paul says quietly. “But how many people will die if I don’t?”
Mike doesn’t answer.
Paul’s voice softens.
“I want to go home, Sarge. To my wife. My kids. You promised me that. Don’t you?”
Mike looks away, toward the horizon.
“There’s nothing waiting for me back there,” he mutters. “Not anymore. This war is all I have left.”
“That doesn’t mean you get to ignore this.”
“It means I follow orders.”
“It means you’re scared to do the right thing.”
That hits. Hard.
Mike’s hand moves slowly to his sidearm.
“Don’t,” Paul says.
Mike draws it anyway.
“Hand over the drive.”
Paul doesn’t move.
“That’s an order.”
“I can’t.”
Mike raises the gun.
“Ten seconds, Private.”
Paul steadies himself. His voice, when it comes, is calm.
“If you want it… you have to kill me.”
The words hang in the air like a verdict.
Mike’s hand trembles.
“Paul… don’t do this.”
“You already know what’s right.”
“Don’t make me choose between my country and you.”
Paul steps closer.
“Then make the right choice.”
A long silence.
The distant thump of helicopter blades finally begins to echo across the water.
“They’re coming,” Paul says. “This is your last chance.”
Mike’s breathing grows uneven.
“You’re like a brother to me,” he whispers.
“Then look me in the eyes, and tell my kids I love them.”
The safety clicks off. The weight of this normally feather-light gun feels unbearable now.
Memories flood in—laughter between missions, shared rations, narrow escapes, promises made in quieter moments.
Everything slows. The ocean, the wind, the sound of the approaching chopper.
Mike’s vision blurs with tears, as only one thought crosses his mind:
“I’m sorry, Paul.”
A single shot shatters the moment.
Then – a body hitting sand.
And finally…
Silence.
