Flashback 1

Anxiety gripped Skijor as he meticulously prepared his sniper gun, his calloused hand running down the cold metal. With a quick pull of the hammer, he released the magazine, swapping the empty one for a new load in a rapid, practiced motion. After thoroughly cleaning his weapon, he gathered his gear and dashed out the door to join his squad in the waiting chopper.

The flight was hushed until a faint whisper shattered the silence. "Jack, I'm scared. Skjor's never this quiet," someone spoke, their words barely audible before an abrupt explosion rocked the chopper. The force of the blast slammed Skjor against the wall, pinned by the muscular soldier, Alex, as the chopper careened in a disorienting spiral descent.

As the medic, Randy checked everyone's parachutes and opened the door, the soldiers leaped into the frigid night. Skjor, with a sense of urgency, moved Alex off him, hoisted the unconscious soldier onto his back, and leaped into the void. The rush of wind filled his ears as he and Alex plummeted through the dark.

Rolling Alex underneath him, Skjor pulled the string, but his parachute failed to catch. With quick thinking, he ensured Alex's parachute opened before bracing for impact. The jolt of hitting the water sent electric pulses throughout his body, but he held on to Alex, making sure they both made it through the harrowing descent.

Skjor and Alex crashed to the ground, their bodies tumbling in a chaotic heap. Skjor struggled to draw breath, pinned down by the weight of Alex. Randy rushed over, his face etched with concern. With the assistance of another soldier, Randy managed to lift Alex off Skjor.

As Skjor gasped for air, he felt the sharp pain in his chest gradually subside. Lying still, he was aware of an unsettling sensation, indicating a potential unknown injury.

β€œ it's Okay," Randy said gently as he quickly scanned for any signs of injury. He carefully moved his hand to Skjor's right arm, and Skjor jolted in pain.

Skjor's senses were fading as he struggled to stay conscious. He couldn't recall Randy yelling for Jake's help, nor did he register the hostile echoes of airplanes reverberating off the mountains. All he felt was the warmth of his blood seeping from his arm, and a suffocating blanket of darkness descending upon him.

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