“Don’t worry, Vivian. I’ll be back by then. I promise.”

Sergeant Benjamin Cooper leaned back on his makeshift bunk as he spoke into his cellphone, a smile spread across his gruff, weary face.

“I’ll bring you to that restaurant. They promised that we’ll be back by the tenth. We can have that Valentine’s Day dinner that you always wanted.”

He paused and listened to the feminine voice from the other end of the phone, and nodded before realizing that Vivian couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, this is our last mission. Once we’re done, we’ll be flying back. I’ll see you then, honey. Got to go. You know how expensive these overseas calls are.”

He swiped at the screen to end the call and tossed his cellphone beside him, and then swung his legs up to lie flat on the uncomfortable mattress.

“Wife, Sarge?”

Cooper looked up as Corporal Wilson Winters sauntered over, holding his pendant. He smiled and shook his head.

“Fiancée. We’re getting married after this tour.”

“Wow, Sarge. Congratulations.”

Cooper snorted at Winters’s dry tone. “What about you, Winters? Called your wife yet?”

Winters stared at his superior strangely. “I ain’t married, Sarge.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Family?”

“Yeah.” Winters clutched the golden pendant hanging from his neck. “Told them I would be all right. As long as I hold onto this lucky charm, no bullet will hit me.”

Cooper chuckled and shook his head. Just like Winters to be superstitious over the most absurd of things. However, given how they were about to launch an assault on the terrorist base in an hour, he wasn’t about to burst the corporal’s bubble. Let the soldiers believe that their cheap, little trinkets possessed some sort of divine power. As long as it gave them confidence on the battlefield and kept their morale high up, Cooper didn’t care what they believed. Nothing was worse than a soldier paralyzed by fear, not even a soldier delusional enough to think he was immortal.

At least the latter would fight like man possessed before he went down.

“Still…I can’t believe this is our last mission. Then we can get out of this hellhole.”

Cooper nodded in agreement. The 47th Battalion of the United States Marine Corps had spent the last six months in Iraq, fighting a long, drawn-out war against guerilla extremists, who remained well dug in. The protracted fighting had been at a stalemate for months, until Command discovered what seemed to be the command base of the radicals.

“Let’s survive this mission first. Then we can think about going home.”

“Yes, sarge.”

Winters left for his own bunk, but before he could flop down to grab some last-minute rest, the flap to their tent opened and Private Smith poked his head in.

“Bad news, guys! Change of plans. The targets seem to have discovered our plan. They’re preparing to withdraw from their base. Our assault has been moved up, we’re moving out immediately!”

Swearing and cursing rang out through the tent as half-dressed Marines sat up and began shoving their feet into boots. Winters scowled as he pulled on his camouflage number four uniform.

“Of all the rotten timings…”

“Look on the bright side, son,” Cooper told him as he strapped on his load-bearing vest. “At least we’ll be going home sooner.”

*

Loud metallic shrieks thundered outside the thin, metal wall that protected them from the elements and small-arms fire. Cooper felt his stomach lurch as the armored personnel carrier hit another bump, causing the soldiers to strain against their safety harnesses.

The waiting was the worst part. Cooper hated being stuck in this metal tin can. He felt so helpless and blind, unable to see past the armored walls of the Pegasus-class APC as bullets clanged off its hull. He yearned to be out there, having full view of the battlefield. Nothing was worse than dying inside the claustrophobic confines of the APC, killed before he could even fight. All it took was one rocket-propelled grenade, or an anti-tank missile, and the entire squad riding in the Pegasus would perish before the real fighting could even begin.

Cooper closed his eyes as the alarming sound of something heavy struck the rumbling APC from outside. Good, there was no detonation. He fervently prayed that they wouldn’t get targeted by the anti-tank crews in the rebels’ base. If they were to fire a single missile…God, he hoped that their deaths would be quick and merciful.

It would be hellish to slowly die, bleeding out inside the blackened husk of an APC, trapped with nowhere to go.

“Are we there yet?”

It was Private Fritz. The squad’s newbie, or at least he was a newbie at the beginning of their tour. Now, with six months of combat under his belt, he was a veteran just like the rest of them. That didn’t prevent him from fidgeting nervously and clutching his M16 rifle tightly as another metallic din roared through the hull.

Even with six months of fighting, he still hadn’t shrugged off the fear. Truthfully, none of them had.

“Not yet,” Cooper replied through gritted teeth. He was already on edge without his men adding any more tension to the anxious atmosphere that permeated the interior of the APC. But he was their squad leader, and it was his job to lift their morale. “The turtle will get us there, you don’t have to worry. Instead, think about how you’re going to shoot those hooded bastards. We’re going in fast, flush out any idiots standing in our way, then hold the building. I want this to done before Major Golea gets on our ass. I want to recommend every single one of you for valor. So you had better shape up. Got that?”

“Yes, sarge!”

“Hoo-rah!”

Good. He had taken his men’s minds away from the danger at hand. Another loud clang pattered against the side of the APC, dangerously rocking it. For a single, tense moment, the APC teetered perilously to the side, its left wheels spinning desperately, but the driver twisted the steering wheel and the armored vehicle landed cautiously on the difficult terrain before gunning forward again.

“See?”

Cooper forced a smile.

“Nothing to be afraid of.”

The APC buckled before screeching to a halt. The ramp thudded down, the pistons screeching from the effort, and the driver glanced back.

“All right, we’re here! Unload! Get off, all of you!”

“You heard the man! We’re getting off this wreck, on the double!”

Unstrapping his harness, Cooper grabbed his rifle and herded his squad out of the APC. The first one out, Samia was taking point, resting his rifle on a broken concrete wall and laying cover fire at a trio of hooded radicals who were now firing at the vehicle. The 5.56 rounds bounced off the armored walls of the APC harmlessly, and Cooper’s men immediately took cover behind the vehicle.

“Samia, grenade!”

“Got it, Sarge!”

Samia was about to pull a grenade from his load-bearing vest, but a bellow from the APC stopped him. Glancing up, Cooper saw that the manned turret on the APC had spun around, spitting high-caliber rounds at their assailants. The wall vanished in a shower of debris, a mist of red blood mixing with the brown dust, as the hooded trio were torn apart.

“Thanks for the fire support,” Cooper shouted to the driver, who nodded. Without wasting any time, he gestured for his squad to rush in. Samia took point, the first to press his back against the side of the broken wall. Glancing in, he then stepped in with his gun raised up.

“Clear!”

The others flooded in. the marines filed into the house, displaying perfect discipline. Even Fritz was on point, covering his comrades flawlessly.

“Contact!”

One of the others – Ludger- shouted out a warning just a second before gunfire erupted. One of his men toppled over. Cooper couldn’t see who, but he had to focus his attention on the new assailants. A group of hooded extremists were pouring out of a room, their procured AK47s blazing mercilessly. Hidges flopped to the ground, his body perforated by the high-powered rounds. The rest of the marines had taken cover behind the walls, flinching as the harsh bark of the AK47s echoed throughout the confined space of the building.

“Fire in the hole!”

Samia finally had an opportunity to use his grenade. Yanking off the pin, he gently lobbed the grenade low on the ground, allowing it to roll toward the firing radicals, whose deafening gunfire masked the light clink of the rolling grenade. Six seconds later, the noise of the AK47 was drowned out by the bellowing explosion that sent countless pellets spraying across the room. The five nearest gunmen were killed instantly. The surviving ones screamed as they fell, their arms or legs shredded apart by the sheer power of the blast.

“Move!”

On Cooper’s orders, the marines rose to their feet and filled the room, ending the misery of the wounded with well-placed shots.

“Next room!”

The remnants of Cooper’s squad proceeded, leaving the dead behind. He had lost two men in that brutal exchange, but killed five times more of the enemy. Not a bad trade-off, but still two too many losses.

We’ve come this far…our last mission, yet Hidges and Rogers wouldn’t be going home.

Cooper shrugged the thought out of his head. They were soldiers. They were prepared for this. Cooper wasn’t naïve enough to believe that they would all return alive. He knew that those two were most likely not the only ones he would lose today.

“The command center should be in the room further up there,” Hudson informed him as they meticulously cleared room by room, flushing out enemies with minimal losses. “There’s a huge atrium in the middle, and then the bridge. That’s where intelligence believes the ringleaders are.”

“I’m sure they do,” Cooper replied dryly. “Do they also happen to know the disposition of enemy forces?”

“That’s…”

“…a rhetorical question, son. I know they don’t. That’s why we’re here. To make sure it becomes zero. Now move out. Samia, you’re on point.”

“Yes, sarge.”

Samia moved toward the door without hesitation. Cooper trusted in the dark-skinned marine’s uncanny intuition. Samia could always detect a trap from a mile away. His instincts had saved the squad more times than he could count.

Unfortunately, whatever informed him of danger seemed to be absent today. Before Samia could reach for the doorknob, the whole wall detonated. Cooper was blinded and deafened by the sudden blast, his whole body hurtling across the room. Something heavy fell on him and he struggled to kick it off, coughing. Blinking, he shook his head to clear his vision, but it remained blood-red. His ears continued to ring.

For a moment, he saw Vivian standing in front of him with a sorrowful expression on her pretty face. She was saying something, her mouth moving soundlessly, but he couldn’t make out her words. He didn’t understand what she was doing here.

And then he remembered. He was in Iraq. Vivian was back in Minnesota, waiting for him to return home. She couldn’t possibly be here.

No…that’s not her. That’s me hallucinating.

Or was it a hallucination? The last thing he remembered was the room blowing up in front of him. Was he dead?

I see. So this is the whole “my life flashing before my eyes” thing?

The memories were pouring in now. The time when he and Vivian had their first date. When he woke up with her beside him. When he proposed…

Oh, God…I was so close. We were going to get married in June…after this tour. It was the last mission. For me. For my boys…

It was so unfair. Cooper could feel phantom tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Are you all right, Ben?”

He blinked and stared up at Vivian. She was kneeling beside him now, cradling his face and looking at him with a concerned expression.

“…yeah. I guess I am. I’m sorry. It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to keep that promise after all.”

Even though Cooper knew Vivian wasn’t real, he couldn’t help but continue talking to her, expressing his emotions and regret.

“It was just a week more. And I would have been home.”

“Sh. You did well. It’s not time for you to go yet.”

“…I wish that’s the case.”

He felt Vivian press his face to her breast, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

“Don’t you give up, Ben. Don’t you give up here. You’re coming back to me alive, you hear me? Look alive, soldier!”

Cooper closed his eyes briefly, savoring the delicate sensations. But Vivian’s gentle caress turned into a stinging slap, her soft whispers were drowned out by the angry roars of explosions, and her feminine scent was replaced with the stink of gunpowder.

“I love you, Ben. I need you to come back to me. Can you do that?”

“…yeah. I’ll try.”

Cooper blinked and tried to look fuzzily at Vivian. She smiled, almost sadly, and then gave him a push.

“Then do it.”

“Wait…!”

“I love you.”

That was the last thing Cooper heard from her before he fell.

He felt like he was mentally wrenched out of another dimension and crudely shoved back into the physical shell of his body. Sharp, burning pain shot through his legs, and he almost passed out when he tried to move them. Another detonation and a series of gunfire railed against his ears, snapping him out of his stupor.

“What the fuck?!” he swore, shaking his head. He felt someone grab hold of him, but he shook the guy off and struggled to pull his rifle up. An enemy? No…if it was an enemy, they wouldn’t waste any time capturing him. They would have shot him on sight.

Slowly, his vision cleared and he could hear something…a voice.

“Sarge! Are you okay? Sarge!”

“Winters? That you?”

“Yeah, Sarge.”

Cooper blinked and the concerned face of Corporal Winters floated into his vision. Squeezing his eyes shut, he blinked away tears before trying to move.

Then he realized that he couldn’t budge. A massive chunk of concrete had fallen over his legs, pinning him to the ground. Blood was pooling underneath him, and try as he might, he couldn’t yank his limbs free.

“You’re hurt bad, Sarge.”

“No shit.” Cooper winced. “But I’m still conscious, and the bleeding doesn’t seem too bad.”

“You don’t say.” Winters raised an eyebrow as he stared at the gradually growing pool of blood.

“What happened to the rest of the squad?”

Cooper tried to bring his mind back to focus. God, but his legs hurt.

“Down. Samia is unconscious, but I think he’s still alive. Higgins got hit real badly, but Fritz is patching him up. I can’t see the rest. They’re probably buried under all this rubble. Unfortunately, we can’t dig them out yet. The enemy has a rocket launcher and a platoon waiting for us in the central atrium.”

“A trap.”

“Sarge! They’re coming in!”

Fritz was shouting incoherently. He lifted his M16 and squeezed off several rounds, only to duck when dozens of AK47 fire volleyed over his head.

“Jesus Christ! There’s so many of them!”

“Backup…” Cooper tapped the micro-bead in his ear. “Raptor 1, this is Raptor 8. We’re hit really badly. We need reinforcements. Immediately!”

“Raptor 8, acknowledged. Raptor 7 is coming your way now. ETA five minutes. Hang in there.”

“We don’t have five minutes!” Fritz hollered, crouching down after another unsuccessful attempt to discourage the enemy with his M16. Cooper knew that he was right. Even without being able to see the enemy, he could hear them from the mechanical stomping of their feet. They were close…too close. At this rate, they would be overrun in a minute.

None of his boys would survive.

Cooper felt despair. They had made it this far…this was supposed to be their last mission, their last op before they could all go home. It was so unfair. To reach the final hurdle and fall short…God had one sick sense of humor.

“Fritz, cover me!”

Cooper threw a grenade over his cover. A few seconds later, there was a muffled explosion and unintelligible screams of men. As smoke billowed from the front, Cooper stood up.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy? Get back to cover!”

“Five minutes. I’ll just have to buy five minutes, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

Cooper didn’t like the look on Winters’s face. The Corporal merely smiled, and then raised his rifle.

“Get back here! That’s an order, Corporal!”

“Don’t worry, Sarge. I have this, remember?”

Winters held up his golden pendant with his left hand. That smile was still there…not a fearless smile. Cooper knew him too well for that. It was a tired, resigned but determined smile.

“As long as I’m wearing this, there ain’t gonna be no bullet that hit me.”

“Goddammit, Winters! I gave you an order!”

“Sorry, Sarge. You can court-martial me later, if you survive this. Till then.”

Under the suppressive fire of Fritz, Winters charged forward, his M16 blazing.

*

Cooper trudged toward the white gates, his shoulders slumped. He fingered the shiny gold medal pinned to his breast pocket, and scowled bitterly. The trinket continued to eat away at him, a tragic reminder of his failure.

Medal of Valor? More like Medal of Squalor.

Half his platoon dead. A disastrous final mission. They had rounded up the ringleaders and cut off the head of the extremist group, but at a huge cost. 56 good marines lost on foreign soil, never to return home alive.

He flipped the latch up and pushed the gate open, stepping apprehensively into the courtyard. His boots crunched on the gravel pathway, echoing silently across the deserted garden.

“Ben?”

He heard the door open before her voice. Ah…beautiful Vivian was on the doorway, her long, red hair fluttering in the wind. She stared at him forlornly for a moment, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Ben!”

Her eyes filled with tears, she rushed forward and dove into his embrace. Cooper caught her, stumbling back a little. Damn, but his legs were still sore. He still hadn’t recovered fully from the last mission. It was all he could do to stand, never mind support Vivian.

Vivian didn’t notice. She buried her face into his chest, sobbing.

“I’m so glad you’re safe. I’m so glad you’re back…I thought…I thought…”

“I’m home, Vivian,” Cooper said softly and gently lifted her head. “I promised, didn’t I? That I’ll be back in time for Valentine.”

“Idiot…I don’t care about that. I just want…I just wanted you to be safe.”

“I am safe. And I’m home.”

Cooper stroked her long, red hair before allowing her to rest her face on his chest. As they stood there in silence, savoring each other’s warmth, Vivian spoke up.

“I…heard. I heard that your platoon got caught up in a nasty…accident. I thought you were dead. When they told me you were in a critical condition…”

“I was never in a critical condition,” Cooper corrected her quietly. Reaching inside his pocket, he retrieved something and squeezed his fingers around it. “I had some very good men protecting me. Giving their lives for the rest of us.”

Unfurling his fingers, Cooper stared at the tiny token, swallowing as tears welled up in his eyes. As if sensing his sorrow, Vivian tightened her arms around him.

“It’s all right now. You’re home now.”

“Yeah,” Cooper agreed silently. “I’m home.”

In his palm, the golden pendant gleamed as a single ray of sunlight reflected off its smooth surface.