"Sergeant move up to the left and cut the target off!" A soldier hollered above the noise of gunfire.
"Hooah!" he replied and charged to the left, as he ran bullets lodged themselves into the trees around him, he quickly slid behind a thick one and made himself as small as possible. After a few seconds the fire stopped and he looked at his arm. In a protective cover there was a picture of a woman holding a baby. "I'll be home I swear it." He pulled the clip that was currently in his gun and tossed it to the side and slid a new one to replace it. He closed his eyes, took a breath and stood up rolling off the tree and aiming where the recent gunfire was coming from, there was a loud explosion and a stinging pain erupted in his stomach. He dropped his gun and fell to the ground clutching his stomach. There was the sound of crunching gravel and a figure came into view. In his hands was a rather large revolver, whos barrel was smoking, he stopped and stared at the fallen soldier for a few seconds then slowly lifted the gun up aiming it at the soldiers chest.
"I'm sorry….. you forced me into this." The sergeant lifted his hand up, thinking it might stop the bullet he knew was coming. There was a flash, and an explosion, but there was no pain, only black.
"We're losing him again, pump the dosage up by twelve milligrams…. He's coming to, more morphine!"
"What's going on!? What are you doing to me!?" the sergeant hollered, before everything was black again.
"He's stable, should we continue with the operation?"
"Yes, he's coming to again, morphine must be wearing off, give him some more."
"Sir, the last was a failure, why are we doing it again?" a fuzzy figure leaned closer into the sergeants eyesight."
"Because you're going to be a success." Then everything was black again.