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"Kraut, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask. I'm slightly pissed off that he ignored the order to stay grounded on this mission, which reminds me of how Josef got the call sign 'Kraut.' Kraut is an old slur against Germans. One night the flight, Josef, and I go out drinking and some pretty little vixen called Josef and I fags. Well, Josef couldn't let that stand, so he starts cursing her out in the angriest sounding German anyone has ever heard. Well our flight being what it was starts chanting Sauerkraut at Josef and well, he never lived that night down. So his full call sign is Sauerkraut or for the idiot American who painted Josef's locker SourKraut. Sorry did I say that? Oops, just because I love my country doesn't mean I have to love the people in it.

"I'm making this easier for us. We have wings; we might as well use them to our advantage." He replies. Soon after, we land on the other mountainside across the valley. Josef puts his rifle on his back and pulls out his MP5. We both ready our weapons and ascend the barely traversable trail to what appeared to be a cave. This is too easy... I think.

As if in response to that thought, two Taliban grunts pop up brandishing their Kalashnikovs. Before I even start to squeeze the trigger, Josef shoots the two in quick successive five round bursts. He motions for us to continue up the trail. I follow him and we advance more slowly trying to use whatever cover we can find to keep from being line-of-sight with the entrance to the cave.

We get within thirty mikes of the cave before a line of five Taliban wielding a Kalashnikov, a P90, a MAC-10, and two AUGs pop up in front of the entrance. I take out the first AUG with a quick burst from my MP5K. The second goes down with a .45ACP to the dome courtesy of my 1911. The P90 is down with three to the chest from Josef's 9mm Glock. I shoot the AK in the face with my MP5 and the MAC-10 is hit once in the chest by my 1911 before being sprayed with a quick burst of Josef's MP5. I don't mention species, because in all honesty, it doesn't matter. To me, they're their weapons and that's it. The only time species comes into play is when they have no weapon. Then I'm more likely to note species. The problem with these missions is that if you're trying to be secretive, "fire only if fired upon" just doesn't work. It doesn't really matter, because the Taliban knew we were coming. I look at Josef; he gives me the all clear. We were using silenced weapons so in all likelihood, no one knows we made it this far. So we sneak into the cave and move to a grouping of crates near our nine o'clock. We wait.

We wait there for what seems like hours before our target shows up. He's a Weregarurumon, big and annoying. He stops and sniffs at the air. He snarls. Shit! He smells us!_I think. Before I know entirely what's happening Kraut's taking out the man's cronies until he's the only one left. I stand up and start speaking in a commanding voice, befitting my role as alpha in my pack, he's technically a wolf, so he should understand Wolfyr, or so I hope. "_Gibril-kanz, Kenalo! Wes mukanspu zi terka sez." Gibril, Kneel. We came to kill you. I growl. His eyes widen in understanding.

He doesn't kneel instead he says, "Sez verta niyéen wum eafyr. Sterko!" You are not my alpha. Die! He brings up a six shooter and fires. Josef's in front of me before I can say anything and the bullet hits him in the abdomen. He fires a burst from his MP5K, ending Gibril's life, before he falls back.

I catch him, tears flowing. "Josef!" I scream. The blood in his body is flowing out quickly. I try to stop the bleeding with my hands. Seeing that not working, I remember packing battle tourniquets in my bag. I pull one out tear it open and pour the blood coagulant on the wound. I then take out the bandage put the bandage on the wound.

Unfortunately for me, my focus on my fallen lover leaves me vulnerable. I don't see a human walking into the cave behind me. He shouts something in Pashto, and raises his P90. He fires. I feel a mass amount of pain from several points in my back. I turn around noticing that I am still alive, despite being shot nearly twenty times in the back. I raise my 1911 and shoot him three times in the chest. "Coward," I spit towards the dead human. I realize that the bullet resistant vest I'd been wearing is what saved my live. The P90 only uses 5.7x28mm rounds. So the vest was enough to stop the penetration. It was dragon scale armor of a design only in prototype. It could stop a 7.62x51-AP round and deflect a lot of the impact force around the body. It is that vest that has saved my life.

I look at Josef. He's trying to get on his feet again. He's more successful than I would have been after taking a 9mm pistol round to the gut. He's holding the bloody splotch on his once pristine desert digital camouflage uniform shirt. I go over to him and take his arm and drape it over my shoulders and say, "Verwende mich, mein W _ölfchen!_" Use me, my Wolfy. I let him lean his weight on me and we walk slowly out of the cave.

As soon as I'm out of the cave, I take Josef into my arms bridal-style and take off. It is a grueling thing to do with Josef's wings getting in the way as I try for altitude. I need to get out of enemy territory. The problem is the nearest allied city is miles away from our location. "Stay with me, Josef, we're gonna make it! We have to make it." I cry, Josef's losing blood and I have to stop soon. The tears run down my face and I can barely see as I make it to an apparently deserted camp.

I look at the symbol on one of the Canvas tents: the Peace Corps logo. What? How'd we get here? I think to myself. I look inside the tent: empty. I see another with a giant red cross, the Field Hospital for the camp. I jog over to it--the 280 pound, limp wolf still in my arms. I look inside. This time the tent isn't empty, but the sight isn't pretty. I've seen blood baths before, but this, this was a blood lake. That's the only way to describe the scene of blood and gore I see inside the Hospital. Every bed had been filled when the hospital was operating, and when the Taliban attacked...Every single bed is crimson. I almost feel sick. These people massacred...for what? Receiving help from an American Peace entity? That's how the Taliban wants to play? This is what they're stooping to, now? Those are the thoughts going through my head. Then I remember that Josef needs help. I shove a body from one of the cleanest beds. The pillow I discard as it's stained through and through.

I look at my husband on the bed and take out my first aid kit. I take out a square, silver bag. I read it: -COAGULANT- is written across the packaging. I then tear off Josef's shirt. I look at Josef's wound, to see if I need to get the bullet out. I don't. The bullet apparently got Josef's side only deep enough to cause massive bleeding; the round didn't mushroom inside my lover's gut. For that I was thankful. I was also thankful that the Weregarurumon was such a terrible shot. Josef caught the bullet barely, and it missed me completely. It was a Godsend. He would live, as tissue damage wouldn't be the issue, here. Still, to see my Wolfy's beautiful white coat stained blood red was an insult.

"Who's there? Who is tha--Nick?" I hear a familiar voice from my right.

Thank God! Someone lives! I think and turn to see who it is. I recoil as I see who it is: My brother. "Thank the Lord, Almighty! You're alive!" I exclaim. I then look back at Josef, still bleeding onto the table. I facepaw. Josef would kill me if he knew I'd forgotten to patch up his wound.

"Nick, Is that Josef?" Chris asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes. He'll live, but he's bleeding badly. Verdammte Schweinehunde! Sie haben versucht, um uns zu töten!" _Damn bastards! They tried to kill us!_I reply. I sound stupid to myself, but this was my first failure to complete a mission sans casualties. I'm used to having my squad get shot at, but this is Josef's first op without his DragonScale armor. This time he is trying out a new tech from the Germans that was meant to look like normal clothing but be able to stop a bullet on contact. Apparently Josef's had failed at that function. Or maybe Josef grabbed the wrong shirt yesterday. Anyways it doesn't matter now, the past is the past and we were about to complete our op.

"Where's Josef's body armor? Why wasn't he in DragonScale, today?" Chris asks as he grabbed a suture kit from a shelf near the back wall.

"Are you safe to do that, Chris? You just watched all your patients die right in front of you, are you sure you're not in shock?" I eye him nervously.

"No, I'm not in shock. I'm angry. But this is the Peace Corps, I can't have a gun, I can't have this place guarded. Sometimes, I wonder why I didn't stay in the V-Corps, like you've done with Josef." He says with a hint of resentment. Then he takes out a wicked looking needle--a semicircular rod that tapers to a point and has an eyelet. He threads the needle and begins closing the wound I would have ended up cauterizing on the field.

Josef's eyes open quickly as soon as he feels the needle poking into his skin. Chris finishes the suture really quickly and then says, "What next?"

"We get you home." I say and put my hand on my brother's shoulder after he stands up.

Josef gives me a look which says How the fuck are we going to do that? I chuckle which feels weird considering our morbid surroundings.

"Can we get out of this tent?" I ask.

"Let's." He then goes from one bed to the next closing eyes and says something that makes me chuckle again. It was funny in a morbid way. Requiescat in pace! An Italian blessing? Then I remember that Chris loves the Assassin's Creed video game. I realize he's quoting something Ezio--the main character from Assassin's Creed II--says after killing one of his victims.

"Tú eres increíble, mi hermano. Me encanta la manera en que bendices los muertos. Eres un empollón." You are incredible, my brother. I love the way you bless the dead. You're such a nerd. I laugh.

"Lasciame stare!"Leave me alone. He replies, "Ho imparato italiano così ho potuto parlare con una ragazza." I learned Italian so I could talk to a girl.

"E come era _?_ Era dolce?_" And how was she (Spanish)? Was she sweet (Italian)?_I ask jokingly.

"Lei era incredibile a letto, ma non aveva personalità." She was incredible in bed, but had no personality.

"Shouldn't we bless them in the ways of their religion?" Josef asks.

"Go ahead. Si sabes que lo hacer." If you know how to do it. I say.

Josef gets up and says the blessing in perfect Farsi. He looks at me, proud of himself. Then moves to the next one and moves down the line. Once the bodies are all blessed I look at Josef then to Chris.

I start a Eulogy that was standard in my pack as Josef and Chris douse the tent and those inside in gasoline that we found at the entrance to the trashed camp. They may not belong to the pack, but They're getting a pack's burial. I think as I sing:

The fires that bathe you

They take you to Him,

Your earthly body burned away

So the devil no longer has say

One life over, though another begins

He will take you now.

Chris and Josef join in:

He takes you in his arms,

The world no longer can harm

Your body to ashes

From whence it came

Shall it return.

Ashes to Ashes

Dust to dust.

Goodbye my brothers,

Ivarns ni Gozi akupeta sezi!

We finish and I throw my lighter--a simple Bic disposable--onto the tent. The hospital and those inside ignite and slowly burn away. I turn around and take off. Chris takes off nest and then my injured mate.