The squad from the ASF (American Special Forces) were on a mission to thwart the enemy's impending missile launch that would destroy a total of eight US cities. There was only a small amount of time left before the last, ten minute countdown.

The squad was on the second level of the three-story control building. They were waiting for one of their guys, Lieutenant Murphy, to complete his part of the mission. The only way they, being a small group of eight men, could cut the countdown, was to send one man through the air duct, to the top floor, and cut the wires. To their knowledge, the enemy soldiers and flight commanders above them, who comprised a much larger force than they, were as of yet ignorant of their presence. The only way this mission would be successful, would be if Murphy made it to the wires and cut them.

Lieutenant Freeman got a call over the radio. After a brief moment, his jaw dropped slightly. His comrades urged him to spill the beans.

“They know we're here. They're gonna bomb the place at 1600 hours.” They all stood stunned for a moment. Then, simultaneously, the seven of them all jerked their heads down to look at their watches. 1600 was only 8 minutes away. A few of them glanced out the window at the huge missile sitting out there, containing more explosives than comprehensible. One man broke for the door. Freeman grabbed him by the arm.

“We leave with Murphy or not at all!!”

Then, suddenly, Murphy's head appeared out the air duct. His comrades helped him out and gave him questioning glances.

He nodded. A wave of relief swept over them.

But, then, they heard the footsteps and voices of more soldiers down below, on the first floor. They looked at each other.

Freeman radioed their ride.

“They've got a visual on the rocket. Let's go.”

They all thundered down the steps to the first level, the man in front slammed his body against the door, and they poured into the room. They took the enemy soldiers slightly by surprise. But, nearly at once, they received fire back at them. They all heard the buzz of choppers overhead.

“We gotta get out of here!” Freeman yelled.

They rushed out at their opponents from behind their cover in the room, and knocked down or shoved aside those in their way and quickly made the door, just escaping the fire of the recovering soldiers they'd just passed. Trueman tossed a flash-bang back into the room and slammed the door shut, then ran after the others, who were giving it all they had to get to the two friendly choppers that had touched down before them. Four of the men leaped into one, and the rest into the other, and slid the doors shut, just as the aircraft were lifting back off the ground.

As they were leaving, but were already a good distance off, they saw the enemy bombers sweep through the area, and watched the extreme destruction that had nearly taken them out too. It was 1600 hours.

When it was all over, Freeman turned around to Murphy, and slapped him on the back, giving a sincere grin. They all got promoted when they'd reached the US, Murphy by two ranks.