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I finished the last of my soylent supplements and threw them viciously into the trash can, I wiped off the leftover on my face and clawed my way for another bottle. I needed get filled up before we left , immediately after getting on the helicopter the whirring of the blades blew viciously in my frozen ears, it was cold. But still humid at the same time. Every time I tried spit out a sentence my voice got raspy and my mind got clouded with ugly thoughts of what was soon to come.
”Soooo, we are probably not going get out of here alive, is that the verdict,” Ansta murmured in despair,“because apparently the CIA or FBI don't have faith in us, why should we trust them if they don’t have faith in us.” Our pilot chimed in like usual, speaking,
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I sat on the cold, metal bench in depressing, spooky silence for minutes before I thought that If what they spoken about be was true, this was obviously going be a dead end mission, minimal chance of survival and an even smaller chance of actually killing the man, the man who has terrified Americans for years, the man who we all know but we didn’t want know about. Osama Bin Laden. Islamic leader of the terrorist group known formally as Al Qaeda. All the memories I had suppressed in my mind over the past few years, the terror, the screams of agony, and the painful feeling of loss would always have a stance in my soul. As we flew over the afghanistan-pakistan border I just had keep telling myself that we can come back from this Mission, we could survive and be unknown heroes. I remember the picture they showed us before we left, he had looked overly-confident look on his dirty, mud splattered face, surrounded by 2 other men, who had been holding powerful rifles in dominance as if they had already won the war.They we're aiming their rifles at the low budget
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