-New Orders-
huh-ha huh-ha huh-ha
Aaron wouldn't be out of the woods until he hit the treeline. The enemy soldiers wouldn't dare follow him into the forest, and he knew it. Garbled shouts in a language he didn't understand rang out behind him and suddenly his shadow was thrown forward.
huuh-ha huuh-ha huuh-ha
The key was rhythm. His left foot hits the ground, inhale. Inhale until his right foot hits the ground, exhale.
huuh-ha huuuh-ha huuuh-ha
Aaron's breaths were getting longer, out of sync; inconsistent. Even worse were his partner's, a little ways behind him. It was supposed to be a simple mission...
huuuuh-haa huuuuh-ha huuuuh-ha-
huuuuuuuh-haaa huuuuuuuh-haaa huuuuuuuh-haaa
As soon as he hit the treeline, Aaron's brown army-standard boot caught a the tangled stem of some long-frozen brush. At the speed he was going, there was no time to adjust, and he was thrown face-first into the thicket of icy brambles. Adrenaline pouring through him, he just managed to turn around when the voice called out,
"You there!" the accent was unfamiliar, "Don't run yet!" About 100 feet behind him, back where his comrade fell, were the soldiers that had been pursuing him. Five of them, all in the tan-white fatigues Aaron had come to fear. The one at the forefront walked towards him, trudging a body with one hand and the other rested on a pistol.
"Lay down your weapons!" yelled the man holding his fellow soldier's unconscious body. Aaron considered his options. Somehow, in spite of everything, he found himself throwing his own sidearm, slowly and deliberately, back into the clearing he had just fallen out of.
"Is that all?!" the man yelled in response. By now, with the flashlights of each of the other four soldiers' guns trained on him, Aaron dignified his question with just a nod.
"Good. You have handcuffs?" Another nod.
"Stand!" he commanded. Aaron obeyed with nothing but malice in his face.
"Ten paces forward!" His steps were careful.
"Stop!" the lead soldier cried after only eight. "On your knees! Hands up, and handcuff yourself!"
The metal was coldest as Aaron followed his new orders and secured the matte black metal cuffs to his wrists, as high above his head as he could keep them. Keeping his head down, but his eyes up, he saw the muddied white boots of two soldiers come into view before a smooth hood was pulled over his head. It didn't feel like the ordinary cloth sack you'd see in movies; no, this was more of a neoprene, almost lycra material that clung, if loosely, to his freezing and sweaty face.
Unable to see what they were going to do to him next, Aaron couldn't stop them from flinging him forward onto his face. His legs were pulled away from each other and he felt each soldier attach a metal cuff, much larger than his own thin handcuffs, to his ankles. Aaron kept his mouth shut.
The two men hauled the young soldier to his feet, and he realized whatever restraint had been placed on his legs must have been rigid. He couldn't move then any closer than two feet apart.
The man with the strange accent laughed, "this is a good catch I think. There will be a lot to do when we get back. A lot to learn, if you will teach?" A hand roughly grabbed Aaron's chin through the hood and tilted it upwards. Still, he remained calm.
"Fucking Americans. Never stop talking until you want conversation. Be a bitch all you want," the words that followed, Aaron didn't understand, but the rest of the soldiers found whatever had been said hysterical.
Without another word, Aaron and his partner were dragged back to the patrol vehicles that had discovered them in the first place and thrown into the trunk of one. For what felt like three hours, Aaron, at the top of his lungs, recited the National Anthem until his throat grew sore. All the while, his partner's unconscious body crushing him against the bouncing, vibrating floor.
Two Weeks Prior
The colonel's order to meet him and his senior adviser in the operations tent came as a complete surprise to Aaron. The young solder, no older than 20 from the looks of his flat physique and military non-standard fringe haircut, was in actuality a month away from his 25th birthday. The colonel slept easier knowing he wasn't sending in a kid.
"Colonel Forte, sir!" Aaron reported, standing straight as a rod in the entrance to the large tent.
"At ease, soldier. Take a seat, this will only take a few minutes."
Aaron did so, careful not to rumble his fatigues on the rough metal chair. He had done nothing wrong. There was nothing he had to fear. Still, he had never reported higher than his captain before.
"Private Aaron Dale. You ran Cross Country in high school?"
"Correct, sir."
"Four time state champion?"
"Three time state champion, sir."
"Honesty, excellent. Private, I have a task for you of utmost importance," with a subtle gesture, the colonel waved the rest of his men out of the tent. "In plain terms, I need you to run like hell."