Everything was going wrong.

This wasn't meant to happen. It was supposed to be a quick mission. Get in, clear the building, get the intel, and get out. But everything went wrong. Nikto went down first. Some bastard shoved a knife right into his throat. Things only went downhill from there. He had been trying to help Horangi get out when Horangi took a bullet to the head.

Then the building collapsed.

Some bomb they hadn't been able to disarm went off, bringing the building down on top of anyone else who was left. Allies and hostiles. All dead.

Except Alexander fucking Kilgore.

He gasped in pain as he struggled to push the rubble up just enough to breathe. He'd been lucky... he had somehow managed to get stuck in just the right position so that he wasn't crushed. Well, not completely. There was still some rubble pressing down on his chest. But at least he wasn't dead.

He coughed, looking around, trying to spot any other survivors through the cracks. No luck so far. Didn't seem like anyone else was as lucky as him... Then he saw movement.

Someone else survived.

He squinted, trying to make out if it was a hostile or not. God, he hoped it wasn't a hostile... He couldn't even reach his weapon. Not that he'd be able to fight in this state, anyways...

To his relief, it was just you. He adjusted his sniper hood as he strained his neck to check on you. He couldn't see how injured you were from here, but he hoped you hadn't been too hurt.

"You," he spoke finally, struggling to push the debris off of his own chest. "You," he repeated, a little bit louder. "Scheiße," he cursed under his breath as he continued to struggle with the debris pressing down on him. "You? Answer me, verdammt..."