A/N: A random oneshot in the TDP universe. This was Alex before his dishonorable discharge. I’ll probably end up doing a few of these over time.

”Target closing.”

“Affirmative.”

Alexander peered into his scope again. The crosshairs were aligned over a doorway, nearly two hundred meters away. The only light came from a flickering incandescent bulb overhead, so it would take a little more guesswork once his target appeared.

The doorway was part of a small guerilla complex, somewhere in the Serbian forests. Alexander’s team had been deployed on an assassination mission. The guerilla leader was becoming a major headache to the UN peacekeeping force, and they needed him eliminated.

They had landed in the cover of night, and – silently – had made their way through the thick bushes to a mountain that overlooked the complex. Alex and Darryl had stationed themselves here, while Mark and Tim had moved to infiltrate the base perimeter. Grimm was in the remote command center – a modified BlackHawk (Officially, the “ShadowHawk”).

Now, Alex was lying in the thick, cold, muddy grass, with his rifle deployed and ready. At least there was little wind tonight. Darryl was connected to Grimm, who was relaying a constant stream of information from the overhead satellite.

“Ready!” Mark whispered into his comms. Alex tightened his grip on the trigger, applying exactly 3.9 pounds of the necessary 4 pound pull. The wind and the cold and the wet grass all disappeared. It was him, his target, and his heartbeat.

The door swung open. Time froze just as the incandescent light failed. Even though he was temporarily blind, he discerned a blurred shape that looked like a head, and pulled the trigger.

The rifle spat once. Alex immediately pulled away from the scope, assessing the area. The light flickered back on, and there was a dead body caught in its glow.

“Confirm?” Alex whispered, as he climbed back up on one knee, reaching for his binoculars. There was a pause, before Darryl responded.

“That’s not him.”

Alex didn’t have time to process the implications before the door swung open, and three men rushed out. One of them he immediately recognized as the target. He dropped his binoculars, yanked his rifle off the ground and took aim, but it was too late.

“Shit,” he muttered, ripping off the tripod and stock, setting the gun to ‘automatic’, and motioning for Darryl to follow him. He turned his comm set back on as he got up and started running.

“Grimm, where’s he going?”

“Airfield, a few hundred yards to the east.”

“Mike, cover the base entrance.”

“On it.”

The mountain plateau ended abruptly, as it became a slope with tress and logs and rocks sticking out everywhere. It was muddy, and extremely dangerous at night. Alex didn’t have time to activate his nightvision – instead, he just leapt right into it.

Fifteen years of hard training came to his aid, as his eyes adjusted to the dark, and his whole body moved and twirled and crouched, anticipating every step. He nearly slid once, but was able to retain his balance, and came crashing out into the forest floor less than fifteen intense seconds later.

He paused. The clearing was circular, and his targets were running right-to-left across his field of view. He brought up his rifle, firing two quick bursts into the group. One of the men took a hit to the lower back, and went down. The other got hit in the shoulder, collapsed, and came back immediately, unleashing a hail of AK47 fire in Alex’s direction.

Alex dropped down behind a log just as the gunfire smashed into the ground around him. His heart was pounding, but he had trained for situations like this. He waited for the gunfire to stop, then pulled himself up. His target was already a disappearing speck in the treeline to the left.

Alex aimed and fired once, catching the guerilla in the neck before he could reload. Alex hopped over the log and kept running, keeping his focus firmly on the ground as it sailed past. A foot wrong here would be fatal.

“Boss!” came Darryl over the secure line. He had just made it on to the forest floor.

“Reinforce Mike!” he called back, just as he leapt over the final obstacle and on to the dirt path. Already, the loud gunfire had set off several alarms at the base, and the last thing he needed was an entire squad chasing after him. The first man he had hit was crawling towards his rifle. Alex fired in his general direction and kept running.

The path headed straight into a bunch of trees. Beyond it was another clearing that the guerillas used as training ground, and now, a makeshift airfield. Alex had to catch him before he got away.

His legs were just beginning to feel the fatigue when he burst into the forest, dodging the first tree successfully before a rope pulled itself out of the ground, tripping him up. He fell hard, slamming into a layer of leaves and mud. Instinctively, he turned his head, preventing his nose from taking a massive beating.

His rifle fell out of his hands and landed about five feet away. He heard someone running for it, and pulled himself up just as the guerilla leader yelled “Stop!” in broken English, aiming Alex’s own rifle at him.

Alex was on his knees, staring down the barrel of his own gun. If the Serb figured out how to fire it, there wouldn’t be much left of Alex’s head. Alex knew something that the guerilla didn’t, though, and was much calmer for it.

“Why you hunt us?” he demanded.

“Because you’re a nuisance,” Alex said, as he produced a pistol from out of nowhere. In a blur, he swung it up and fired once, hitting the guerilla leader in the neck. Alex jumped up and caught his rifle before it hit the ground.

Alex considered the corpse for about a second – it was still dying a slow, gurgling death. If they found it, they would find the .45 caliber bullet, which they would eventually trace back to the US military. He couldn’t allow that.

“Mike, status?”

“They found the corpse at the barracks door, and they’ve locked down the compound. We’re outside.”

“Do they know their leader is missing yet?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Grimm, we have a few bodies to move.”

“Yes sir. Preparing quarantine bay. Where are we taking them?”

“The nearest body of water. Mike, get everyone out here,” Alex said, as he returned the rifle to its magnetic holster across his back, and lifted the heavy corpse of the guerilla leader. It was still warm – something Alex tried not to think about.

“We’re good to go,” Grimm said. Mike, Darryl and Tim emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing, jogging towards Alex.

Alex dumped the body he was carrying near the other two, just as the rest of his team assembled, and the silent ShadowHawk appeared over a distant mountain, heading straight for them. Alex knew the guerillas wouldn’t see nor hear it – he could barely hear it himself, and he knew what to listen for.

“Three kills,” Darryl commented. “Well done.”

Alex shook his head. “I’m not counting. You shouldn’t be, either.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before their helicopter appeared directly over them, blasting them with downdraft wind. Grimm maneuvered to land a short distance away, and the cargo bay door at the rear dropped open.

“Let’s get out of here.”