I creep through the forests of Northern China, descending upon a company that will be my next victim. Being a Scout Ranger has its benefits. Having that badge as a sergeant earns you the respect of a general. When you're at home, you're treated with the comforts that grunts can only dream of.

But there's always drawbacks to everything. Most of the time, you're living a lonely existence. For nine months to a year, you've got a lonely existence. Sometimes, you've got a person for a buddy. Most of the time however, your buddy is an M36 rifle, your knife, your shovel, and a pistol with a picture of your love etched on the grips.

Regardless, I do whatever High Command needs me to do, and in this case, it's halting an entire convoy. I find a spot perched above a tree. With the agility of a monkey, I scale the tree easily, finding a strong branch some distance above the road which I was told they would come through. I sight my rifle on the turn.

Within two hours, the convoy of ten trucks arrive. I patiently take aim at the lead vehicle. Controlling my breathing, I take aim. I exhale and begin to squeeze the trigger.

BAM! The rifle goes off in my hands, as the driver of the lead truck is shot through the head. It veers off the road, and crashes into a large tree. The rest of the convoy stops, allowing me to quickly descend the length of the tree.

I see that several of the trucks have disembarked their load of soldiers, about 75 or so, give or take a few, who now have fanned out and are marching to my position. Behind the great oak, I sling my rifle behind my back and draw my knife. I could hear their footsteps as they inspect every tree for my presence. When one approaches the tree I shot the driver from, they pick up an incriminating cartridge casing ejected from my rifle.

My heart pounds through my chest as they proceed onward. I could hear one particular set of footsteps inch closer. Myself flush to the tree, the steps draw closer to me. When the soldier who generated the footsteps appears at my side, I grab the offending soldier and plant a knife into his throat before dragging his body out of sight.

Unfortunately, my assassination of the corporal was not unseen, and the poor lieutenant orders the whole company to open fire upon my location. I crawl away slowly as bullets whistle above my head, until I find myself in a dry stream bed. I then ready my rifle once more, and take aim at the lieutenant.

In the same fashion, I put down the lieutenant with a bullet through his head, and the unit becomes a disorganized mess of soldiers, who now begin firing on anything that moves. Defenseless rabbits, inoffensive tree branches, and in some cases, their own men. I see the paranoia in their eyes, and calmly pick off whoever is closest, never firing from the same position twice.

With a few magazines and accurate fire, I have decimated the whole unit from three-quarters of a hundred to nothing. The power of a ranger with a rifle cannot be underestimated. I draw my pistol, fix the silencer upon the muzzle, and proceeded to mop up the convoy.

The first three trucks held nothing. These I used captured Awwami anti-material grenades and destroyed them. I'm not a fan of Awwami weapons, but their anti-material grenades are great.

The next three trucks were filled with food. Plenty of it. I took a few rations for myself and destroyed what I could not carry. The three after that carried rocket launchers and other weapons. Finding some of their rifle ammunition compatible, I took them for myself, as well as a rocket launcher, because that is pretty useful. After that, was ammunition. Lots of ammunition. This I felt would need to be destroyed with a rocket.

Then came the final two trucks. The first carried medicines, syringes, etc. I took some for myself and destroyed the truck with a grenade. The second was apparently filled with more medical supplies, this time being stretchers, bandages, and the like. As I rummaged through this, I heard rustling. I turned around and found a woman with a revolver.

Behind me was a woman in a clean, white uniform, her white battle helmet with a bright red crescent on the front. She was wearing a white headscarf underneath. Both of us were looking down the barrels of our pistols.

In Farsi, she muttered "I swore to Allah that I would never take a human life, but you are no human. You are a machine."

I replied "And so are you, a machine of the caliphate." Angered, she fires a shot into my gut, with stinging efficiency.

I've felt this pain before. Clutching the wound with my free hand, I squeeze my abdominal muscles in order to expel the offending projectile into my hand.

Extracting the bullet, I take a look at it and drop it. Seeing my wound has healed so quickly, she drops her pistol and backs into a wall, muttering prayers to God.

"That stung quite a bit, but not as much as childbirth. That was really painful. Fortunately, modern science renders such a flesh wound."

"H-How?" she asked.

"Simple. I was captured, and your scientists did some pretty crazy experiments on me, and then I got out after trying strength augmentation experiments. Made my bones ten times denser and my muscles thrice as strong. Came with the side effect of enhanced senses and some really high healing factor. Would've been useful when they shoved twenty fertile eggs into my womb and made me carry all of them to term. Took them three months to go from egg to baby. That was painful. Took me a month to recover."

She was a bit shocked. "W-Witch! Liar!" she called me.

"It's all true, lady. I should harbor some hatred to you, but I don't. I've killed a hundred people out of vengeance. And I never felt any better after. Figured that I'd never be fulfilled thinking like that."

"So why did you kill all those soldiers?" she asked.

"Because they wanted to kill my friends. My family. Your armies are that of an imperialist, driving out us so you can take over. And that means killing me and my friends. And I can't let that happen."

"We are defending our homeland from you infidels!"

"Defending? Don't think so. When have your armies actually defended something. Your armies have done nothing but march forward. What army marches forward to defend?" I recognize the Udru she was muttering under her breath, as if a prayer.

"It seems you were led to believe you were not the British."

Enraged, she yelled "We are not the British!"

I continued "Ethnically, no. Practically, yes. Your armies seek to conquer the world, yes?"

"If that is what it what it takes to drive the infidels off this Earth!"

I chuckled "So British of you to think that way. It was their desire to make you in their image that they subjugated people like you for three centuries. Looks like it worked flawlessly."

Sensing that I should leave soon, I said "My name's Theresa. I don't know yours, and I won't necessarily care, but I suggest you get away from these trucks as quickly as you can, because I'm about to send their cargo of ammunition into the heavens. And every time you hear of whatever your doctors made in the field, think of the Theresa the Paternian Ranger, who your doctors forced to shove twenty babies out of at once. For their sick, carnal pleasure. It's a shame I can't talk to you more. I've got other things to do now. See ya!"

I then leap from the truck and march into the forest. I take aim at the ammo trucks, and wait for the woman with the white dress to run. When I see her run the other way, back where the convoy came from, I launch the rocket. As predicted, the truck explodes in a great fireball.

I proceed onward to the next convoy. A repetitive, monotonous process.