Y'all get a bit of background in this one, enjoy chulunkalumps!
The hot desert sun radiated through the humvee. Sweat pours down my brow, and soaks my Ranger uniform in some places. My M4 Carbine stands in between my legs as I sit in the passenger seat of the vehicle. Butcher drums on the steering wheel to the beat of some Iraqi cover song for Paint it, black on the radio.
Jerry over coms: "You guys ever notice how all these buildings look the exact. Fuckin. Same." Jerry's familiar New York accent rings over coms.
Delgado over coms: "Hey Jerry, ever notice that when you say something, it's fucking stupid?" Chuckles erupt from everyone over coms.
Jamie over coms: "Nah I think Jerry's onto something, I've seen that same fucking fruit shop before." Jamie says sarcastically as points at a fruit shop from the gunner seat.
Butcher over coms: "Keep your heads on a swivel boys, don't want to have to haul any of y'all's asses back to base bleeding everywhere." Butcher's the oldest out of our squad, bastard saw combat in Desert Storm.
Tex: "Way to bring down the mood, boss." Says the familiar southern voice of Tex, looking up from some sort of Playboy magazine. He's only a year older than me.
His real name is Alan Zachary, but ever since he introduced some of the boys to Texas Hold Em, we call him Tex.
Butcher: "That shit's gonna rot your brain out ya know." He takes a cigarette from a pocket in his vest, and quickly lights it.
Tex rolls his eyes, and speaks into coms.
Tex over coms: "Butch is trying to take away the Playboy again." His remark gains a few laughs.
Quincy over coms: "Let the boy have his entertainment, god knows there's none out here." His deep voice says over coms. He was second to Butcher in age, and he also served in Desert Storm.
Our convoy consists of four humvees, two of which are occupied by another squad. Me, Butcher, Tex, and Jerry on the mini gun are in the middle. Behind us are Quincy, Delgado, and Jamie. We were part of a larger operation going on in some fucking town that I didn't pay attention to. Something to do with ISIS is all I can remember.
We're driving through the small town, when I see the exit. I tap Butcher and point to it.
Butcher over coms: "Exit up ahead, we're moving back on the road guys."
A succession of HOAs ring over coms. I smile and look out the window, and that's when I notice something. A person wearing a shemagh around their head stands up, and in his hands is an RPG.
BOOM
I jolt awake, shooting straight into a sitting position. I look at my digital click, and see that it's only 5:30 A.M. Missy wakes up and perks her head a bit as she looks at me. A cold sweat covers my body, and I feel like I'm suffocating. I quickly get out of bed, going straight to the bathroom. I turn on the sink, and start throwing water on my face. I haven't had one of those dreams since I first got out. So why now? What is causing them to come back?
Y/n: "Jesus Christ, I need a shower."
I get undressed and hop into the shower, turning the hot water almost all the way up. After about five to ten minutes, I get out and dry off. I walk out of the bathroom, and over to my dresser. I've been here a week now, and I just moved into my dorm a few days ago. I've talked with most of the operators here, some more than others. I grab a light brown shirt and some jeans, and put them on. I pet Missy one last time before I put on my dark brown Timberland boots, adding another inch or so to my height.
YOU ARE READING
The Ripper of Rainbow Six (male reader)
ActionY/n "Ripper" L/n Height: 6'1 Weight: 180 Age: 35 Date of Birth: **/**/1990 Place of Birth: T/n, C/n Status: INACTIVE BIO: Y/n L/n came from a long line of military men in his family. So it wasn't a surprise that he joined the U.S Rangers at eighte...
