The Merciless Alpha(erotica)

New Story Title: The Rebirth Of a Hero. (Erotica)

Summary: A Modern hero makes a noble sacrifice and for his valor is presented an opportunity in a new world. Danger, magic, and love lurk in this new world and he finds things very different than what he is used to.

Enjoy…

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The middle eastern sun beat down on the desert as the single cloud mocked those below by refusing to grant even a single speck of usable shade. High in the mountains a compound swarming with those who the West considered extremists, armed to the teeth with weapons procured in a variety of methods of questionable legality. Captives, mostly women, were moved to a holding cell as men were lined up to be forced to join or die. Walking proudly among them, safe in his stronghold, Moghadam, one of the top leaders of the military group, looked over the new recruits.

Unbenounced to these militarized men using a thin religious patina to be petty tyrants, death was moving in. Although outnumbered almost two to one, US special forces moved in on the compound.

Moghadam began yelling in Arabic at the captive men, and his firing squad laughed at the kneeling bound men. I picked up a few words, but my Arabic wasn’t the greatest. I was quick to pick up languages, but I hadn’t been in country quite long enough to become fluent.

I pressed the button to activate my comms, “Hitman, you ready?”

Hitman was the team marksman, and would be our opening shot. If he could take out Moghadam then our mission was a success and any other military extremist we put in the dirt would be perks. It had taken six months of hard work lining up this mission. Moghadam was a ruthless killer and letting him escape could condemn hundreds to death.

“Hitman is on target.”

“Ready to engage. Hitman, begin when ready.”

Moghadam grabbed a rifle and went to shoot one of the kneeling men, probably to make an example for the rest. As he raised the rifle, a single shot rang out and instead of the kneeling man, Moghadam dropped to his knees, then fell on his back.

Chaos erupted in the complex, the kneeling man rose to their feet and ran to flee, their hands still bound behind their backs. Spread around the ridge the members of my squad began raining lead down on these absolute despicable examples of the human race. Though outnumbered, we quickly pressed the advantage of surprise and brought the number of visible combatants down. Adrenaline flooded my system as I moved from target to target, utilizing my sniper training to take out targets with precision as several members of the team provided suppressing fire.

Within moments, all movement within the compound ceased.

“Beetle, give us eyes.” I ordered.

The scouting drones we carried rose into the air, zipping down into the compound. Three operators covered Beetle, named for the way the headset made him look, as he maneuvered the drone to ensure there weren’t pockets of hidden resistance.

The minutes crept on.

“All quiet, prepare to move in.” Beetle reported.

“Marksmen, maintain positions. Liberation team, move in.”

Two three-man teams moved down to the compound.

“All hostiles confirmed cold. Proceeding to the liberation of captives.” Pyro called over comms.

The mission was a success.

“Congratulations boys, we live to die another day.” I called over comms. “Keep eyes out, just because we took out the present hostiles doesn’t mean more can’t show up.”

Four hours later we were extracted back to base.

As safe as we could be while deployed we tried to relax.

“Nice job, Wolfhound.” My friend, Jacob, codenamed Cleric because he was our medic and was infamous for being a nerd and loving his Dungeons and Dragons, always trying to recruit team members to play with him.

“Kept you sitting on your thumbs, Cleric.” I smirked. Anytime the medics were bored was good, no one wanted injuries on the squad. “You coulda brought your wife to sit on your face, woulda been just as useful, would have boosted moral as the squad got a show.”

Cleric laughed, as did Hot-Rod (our field mechanic) and Buster (demolitions with Pyro). Cleric’s wife was freaking hot, and had been hot through her pregnancy and bounced back like a champ. And while oftentimes, service members would be worried about infidelity while deployed Cleric wasn’t worried. His wife was the most faithful woman I’d ever met and had thought he was the best man in the world, even with the birth-control goggles he’d had to wear through basic training. We teased him about his trophy wife, but we all knew we were jealous. Many of us had no idea what we’d do when we got out of the services, but Cleric would just transition from military medical to civilian medical with no debt because the military had paid for his schooling.

Jacob and I went way back. When my dad had offed himself while I was in Middle School, Jacob and his family had been my support circle. When my mom got cancer, and was dying in the hospital for my high school graduation, Jacob’s family had been the ones to bring me congratulations and had supported me. We’d enlisted together, been assigned to the same unit, gotten promoted together, accepted to the special forces together and now I led his unit.

I’d promised his mother that I’d die before I came home without him, and I’d meant it. While my deployed paycheck was nice, if I died no one would really miss me. I didn’t have any relatives, excluding some like 3rd or 4th cousins like two times removed or some such bullshit. Cleric had a wife who lived for him, and a 2 month old little girl that I was not about to let go fatherless.

“Wolfhound, don’t get comfortable, we got a tip on the Armorer.” My superior, codename Silverback, our commanding officer, intercepted us. “Get your squad together for briefing, you engage in one hour.”

The hair stood on the back of my neck. The Armorer was our codename for the lead arms procurer for these militaristic bastards. We didn’t even have a name or picture, just knew that with him gone the number of arms the extremists were getting would be cut at least in half. Having just taken down the Executioner, having the Armorer pop up was too good to be true.

“We sure this isn’t a trap?” I asked.

“Too much of a risk to pass up.” Silverback declared.

We were dropped off near the canyon that was to be our strike point forty-five minutes later, with fifteen minutes to get in position.

“Hot-Rod, cover Beetle. Beetle, give me eyes.” I ordered.

The drone went skyward and most of the unit moved toward our strike point.

Comms crackled, “The canyon is crawling with assholes. I count 30. I have to ground or I may give us away.”

“Confirmed. Rejoin and we’ll find our engagement point.” I growled.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

I didn’t like this.

“Cleric, stick on me. Hitman, what’s your assessment.” I requested.

As a trained marksman and sniper, just like Hitman, I could pick out where we’d hide ourselves to engage, but having taken up leadership it wasn’t my job anymore. I was to manage and coordinate my operators, if I spent the mental energy doing Hitman’s job it would just hinder my efficiency.

“10 o’clock. 150 yards out. Secondary ridge.” Hitman called.

“You heard the man. Move.” I barked into the radio.

We crept into position, utilizing natural cover to keep hidden. We had a ridge behind us and we were in the channel between the primary and secondary ridges. Once in position, we peaked with our perioscopes over the edge. The tiny cameras would be impossible to see at distance and it would keep our helmets from showing while giving us visibility.

“Beetle, you sure on that hostile count?” I asked over the radio, seeing only twenty men.

“100%.” Beetle replied.

Then I saw him. One of the interpreters. Among the hostiles.

“Fuck, we’ve been setup. Prepare to extract.” I cursed.

Movement on the ridge caught my view.

“Hostiles above! They have our six!” I barked.

Cleric turned and I saw a turban over the ridge as an RPG pointed our way. I glanced at Cleric. This was not happening. He was not going out this way. I coiled my body and used every muscle in my body to push him away. There was no way I’d get him 40 feet away, outside the potential blast radius on an RPG, but I aimed him at a crack in the ridge. If I could knock him in there, the terrain would protect him. I made contact and everything seemed to slow down. I heard the click and ignition of the RPG. I heard the rush of the oncoming rocket. And just before the split second roar of the RPG detonating, I saw Jacob drop between the rocks, his face horrified as he took one last look at his best friend. Then it was all over and my world went black.