Vivamus, moriendum est
A group of American soldiers in the middle-east are tasked with infiltrating a building and eliminating any threats they come across. However, two of them think they have a better idea. Feat. three relatively cool latin phrases.

(At the moment, this story preview does not have any formatting – this means character thoughts aren't differentiated from plain text.)

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Let Us Live, For We Must Die

I slowly advance along the wall of the building to my right, I’m second-last in a long line of similar looking people. I steadily sway my weapon along the tops and over the windows of the tall brick buildings to my left; no combatants were found, but that could change the very second I stop searching. We continue onward, all checking our surroundings and keeping nut to butt. I then hear the shuffling in front of me stop and the quiet shifting of fabric, I let my eyes fall in front of me for just a second and find a row of fists in the air. I halt my progress immediately and raise my left fist, still holding my rifle up at the cloth-covered windows.
We all then lower our guns slightly and beat the side of our helmets with our raised fist twice; I watch as the soldier in front of me moves out of the line and runs down to the door, they then begin to line the door with a black cord.
“Psst, hey...” I hear someone whisper from behind me.
“Kssh. This is J-squad, we’re ready to breach the target building; over. Kssh”
“Kssh. Roger that J-squad, overwatch is in position; you’re clear for entry. Kssh”
I wait for the chatter on our radios to cease and reply to the voice, “Yea... what.” I keep it as a whisper though, since that’s how the conversation initiated.
“What d’you say we go ‘round back and flank these guys?” The whole line shuffles back and the breacher positions himself next to the soldier at the front of the line, they prepare to breach.
“You sure it’s safe, or even allowed?” I ask quietly.
“Yea, we’ll be helping out the rest of the squad by doing so.” They reassure.
“Ok, I’ll-” I get cut off by the explosive sound of the breaching cable, once the sound subsides I get pulled back from my shoulder.
I turn around and find a fairly young but tall soldier, his patch reading ‘R.Sullivan’. He gestures for me to follow him; we quickly circle around the building, keeping up a decent jogging pace as we move. As we turn our second left, stifled gunshots can be heard through the walls. Sullivan then halts and I do so too, we’ve come up to a blue wooden door. “I’ll breach, you follow closely behind.” He says, I pat his shoulder with my left hand for affirmation.
He then squares-up in front of the door, I hear him mutter something: “Audentes Fortuna Iuvat.” He then prepares to give it the boot; I raise my rifle at the door and nod to him as he looks over. He then raises his rifle too and fiercely kicks the door, a loud crack and impact sound resounds through the air as the door swings open. But rapid gunshots also sound immediately after, my helmet does a good job at suppressing the loud cracks of the bullets.

Everything seemed to happen so fast; from Sullivan breaching the door to dropping on the ground, covered in red. I quickly found out who the bullets were meant for, Sullivan. I freeze and so does the gunfire, both stopping at the sight of the dead soldier. The patch with Sullivan’s name on was now stained with a dark red, other parts of his desert tan uniform following the same treatment. I aimlessly stared into his cold, dead eyes; water began to collect in mine.
As I continue my gaze, a loud buzzing fills my ears; my haste and shallow breaths being the only thing I can hear over it. A vignette forms around my vision; I quickly become sick. I slowly kneel down to his body, nearly dropping my rifle during the action. The red stains continued to amass over his uniform, spreading over his body; appearing as though it’s engulfing him. I slowly reach out a hand to touch him, as if a gentle brush of my finger may bring him back to the land of the living. But, I falter, instead withdrawing my hand and returning to my full height. My mind returns to reality and anger fills my thoughts, the notion of revenge oscillates through my head.
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“Beckett, the commander will see you now.” The soldier says after exiting the door, he holds it open for me and gestures me inside.
I walk through the door and base in the middle of the room, before me is a small table with a uniformed man seated behind it. I rest my arms behind my back and hoist my back up straight, awaiting for the man to address me.
“I understand you’ve had a tough time on deployment, Beckett.” He begins, “But that’s no excuse for breaking formation to go off and pull your own little stunts.”
“Sir, I-” I interject, but he quickly cuts me off. ––––––
I raise my gun once more and prepare to enter the building, shouting in a foreign language can be heard from within. I hug the edge of the building as close as I can while advancing toward the door, I slowly move away from the wall and begin to pass the doorway. I don’t get very far before I find a table on its side and head peeking behind it, I quickly squeeze the trigger in the direction of the table. A shot rings through the air and the wall behind the table is painted red, I hastily move back to the wall as multiple shots cut through the door.
I whisper to myself, “Lex talionis, asshole.”
Once the gunfire ceases, I begin to shuffle over the doorway again; scanning every inch of the room. This time I find another armed man crouched in the corner of the room, I take another two quick shots and return to the safety of the wall; however, no further gunshots sound from the room. I step into the

door and prepare to fire, but I see no one in the room; or no one who’s still alive.
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“Doing the opposite of what you’re trained to do gets you killed, you saw what happened to Sullivan. It’s a high price to pay, but that’s why we train you the way we do and tell you to do certain things.” He gets out of his chair and places both hands on his desk, supporting his weight with them.
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I find a hallway off to the left, gunshots echo through it. I quickly invert my hands’ positions on my gun, leaving a finger from my left hand on the trigger and my right hand supporting the front of the rifle. I come up to the side of the doorway that leads into the hall, then quickly stepping into it. As far as I can see it’s clear, but the gunshots have only gotten louder. I hear familiar reports, most likely those of my fellow squadmates; but there are also other, more robust reports.
I make it to the end of the hallway and take a small pause once more, dozens of gunshots sound around the corner to my right. I then slowly maneuver around the corner, not unlike when I first entered the building. Before me are three combatants, all firing in the direction my squad breached from.
“They’ve got us pinned! Ah fuck this; frag out!” Oh shit... ––––––
”Clearing a building that’s known to have hostiles in it, with only one other person to help you is not what you’re trained to do. This isn’t some Carpe Diem bullshit; you’re lucky that I’m still keeping you here with your squad. But, if I find that you’ve pulled any other stunt that has put one of your squadmates, or anyone for that matter, in danger. You will be on the next flight back home, do I make myself clear?”
“Affirmative, sir-” Tighten up my posture, keeping a blank face as I await his next order.
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I quickly sprint down the hall and dive through the doorway; a loud explosion sounds behind me, drumming through the ground. After taking a few seconds to reorientate myself and recover my focus, I get back onto my feet and progress down the hallway again. Assorted foreign shouts echo down the hallway, they sound desperate and fearful. Once I reach the end of the hallway, a few shots crack past my face; it seems the squad has doubled-down on these guys now.
“I’m Oscar Mike!”

“Copy! Laying down cover fire!”
Automatic fire resonates through the building, a few bullets tear through the wall next to me. If I’m not careful, I’ll end up dead from cross-fire. I dive onto the floor and shoot out from the hallway; five military-age males are positioned before me, two laying still on the ground while the other three are couching behind some cover. A sixth also hides behind a door frame, taking cover in a separate room. I squeeze the trigger, holding it down as I pull the gun over the enemy soldiers.
My barrage sustains only for a few seconds until it abruptly draws to a close; I quickly examine the area in front of me and find the crouched combatants now dormant on the ground, joining the other two. But the one behind the door is absent; I quickly rise into a crouch and draw my sidearm, holding it over the doorway. Hardly a moment later, the doorway fills with the figure of a man. I act swiftly and fire upon him, releasing 3 bullets in his direction.
He’s given no chance to fire and immediately falls to the ground, his rifle falling to his side. I hear more movement from J-squad, they probably don’t know I’m back here. I decide to quickly make my position known, to save me from scaring one of them and getting shot accidently.
I hastily raise myself to my full height and announce my location. “It’s Beckett, I’m over here.” I hold both my hands up, loosening the grip on my pistol.
I watch as the squad support gunner and a rifleman both promptly divert their attention to me, but they quickly lower their weapons upon recognition of my uniform. “The hell are you doing back here, Beckett?”
I holster the gun; a morbid expression unconsciously forms on my face. “I went around back with Sully to flank these guys... But... They had someone watching the rear entrance, and they managed to surprise Sully as he kicked open the door.”
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“Alright, dismissed!” The commander says firmly, returning to his chair.
I salute him and walk out the door, then making my way through the FOB until I reached the J-squad barracks. I open the door to the barracks and am met with some pretty furious expressions.
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“So... He’s” The support gunner can’t even finish his sentence; two soldiers dart past me and quickly clear the room at the end of the hallway, I hear their shock as they find the body.
A panicked voice echoes through all our radios. “Kssh. This is J-squad requesting immediate medivac, we have a man down! Kssh.”

“Kssh. Copy that J-squad, a transport helo has been dispatched to your position; ETA 5 minutes. Kssh.”
I look to everyone in the room after the transmission, finding no charity in the glares they give me...