Retribution Chapter 1

WARNING: Violence and strong language

"Get the Hell Off My Lawn!"
I slowly awoke as the sand around me began to get warm. I will never, EVER sleep in a cave. No way, no how. I'll sleep in a f*cking hailstorm for all I care. I will never sleep in a cave and nobody can convince me otherwise. I forced my rifle through the sand and got ready. I shot up out of the sand and looked around, rifle aimed. Quiet. Very, very quiet. All I could hear was the wind kicking up the sand. So much sand… And to think I've been in Afghanistan for three years and still hate the stuff… Well, I guess it ain't a surprise to be honest. After making sure no one was around, I slung my rifle and tried to get the sand out of my ears. Once that was done and after I brushed the sand OFF of me, I forced my legs up to the solid ground. I stood wobbly for a moment, adjusting myself, and then regained my focus. I sat in the hole I dug last night and looked through my bag. I yanked out a plain black T-shirt. Maybe I'm just noticing now, but I seem to have a large abundance of these shirts… Anyways, I yanked off my bulletproof vest and looked at the shirt I had on. There was a bullethole in it from also five months ago. I yanked it off and dropped it. I stretched my arms out and let out a long yawn. Did I mention these kinds of mornings are rare? Hell, I usually go up to five days without sleep most of the time! I was slightly sore though, not sure why. Could be a number of different reasons, but whatever. I rubbed my chest softly, letting fur run through my fingers, and then tugged the shirt over my head. As my head got pulled through the hole, my ears twitched and I instinctively pulled out my Glock 17 that I now had and turned around. All I saw was sand and a few desert birds, whatever they call them here… I holstered the Glock and pulled the vest over my body again. After getting situated, I stood up and checked my rifle to make sure it wasn't jammed from the sand. At least it wasn't, cause M4s are a BITCH to unjam. My old MK stopped working after firing so many rounds, so I had to switch to the reliable M4A1. Good range, accurate, and a nice rate of fire. I looked around the barren desert. Sand, sand, sand… Oi… I looked at my digital watch. 10:54. Slept later than I wanted to. Oh well, time to get moving. I stepped forward and walked off to the south. Sticky today. I can take it being hot, but humid is a killer. At least there was a small breeze today. Anyways, I walked for a good while. About two hours into my day, I could hear gunshots ring out. I dove down into the sand and took my rifle to the ready. No one was in sight, but I saw a small village up ahead. I pulled out two black bandanas and covered my head with them. Time for action. I shot to my feet and ran towards the village. The first building I saw I dove behind, then peeked out around the corner. SRA… and terrorists. A lot of each of them too. I poked my rifle out and shot one on the building rooftop. Target neutralized. I turned around and ran to the back door. I smashed the door in with the butt of my rifle and walked through. A terrorist turned around, but he fell to the ground as a Thunderbolt connected with him. I went through the side door of that building and cautiously ran to the next building. I whipped the door in with Iron Tail and ran in. I was greeted by barely dodging a GP-25 round, which exploded into the wall behind me. I shot a couple of rounds into him, dropping him like a fly. I turned around to leave the building, when a helicopter crashed in front of the entrance.
"OH FU-" I yelled, falling backwards to the floor.
I covered my arm which had caught fire quickly, but it only got the fur, leaving a black burn mark. I got up and whipped the wall with Iron Tail, smashing a hole through the wall. I ran through and watched an Mi-24 Hind hover by and a truck load of terrorists stop and get off their trucks into battle. I pulled a frag off my vest and threw it by the truck. It exploded into a useless heap of scrap metal and killed the terrorists near the truck. I ran across the road that was there and slid behind a building. I was about to flank the enemy from behind, when I heard shots ring out behind me. I turned around, but no one was standing behind me. More shots came out and a terrorist fell backwards from an alleyway with a bullet in his head. I ran to the corner of the alleyway and peeked in. I saw a Lucario fighting off some terrorists. I pulled out my Glock and shot at him. I missed. He instantaneously turned around and ran around a corner in the middle of the alley. I moved forward, but in an instant, he ran towards me, knocking both my pistol and rifle away. I turned back and saw the Mi-24 crash into a flaming fireball. I refocused my attention to the Lucario, but unfortunately for me, he socked me in the jaw. I fell backwards and he got on top of me and slashed at my face. My bandanas tore off and my sunglasses snapped in half. I kicked him off, tossing HIS weapons away in the process. We both stood up and sized each other out.
"Who are you?!" the Lucario demanded.
I was silent for a moment.
"A ghost," I said, dropping a smoke grenade. As it went off, I turned around and made a dash away. If I had any common sense in my head, never, EVER piss off a Lucario. They will FUCK. YOU. UP. I ran away using Extremespeed, hoping to lose him, but luck wasn't on my side today as he was right behind me using Extremespeed as well. I tried to outrun him, but to no avail. After running for a while, I felt a pinch at my neck. My running slowed to down drastically till I came to a complete stop. I yanked a dart out of my neck and turned to face the Lucario, who was now stopped a few yards away.
"You… fucking cheater…" I stammered out as I fell backwards.
The Lucario walked up to my limp body and attached a device to my chest as I went out and under.