Diesel sinks into the ground as soldiers walk up, "Hold." "What made that big of a mess, Sarge?" They walk off, towards the explosions. I whisper, "Diesel?" I sigh and tap my head with the gun, "Guess I'm going in." A sniper goes over my back and a rifle to my arms. I hug the walls, checking every possible angle, nook and cranny with heavy, yet silent huffs of air. My blood boils as my eyes refuse to blink.

I look around a corner, whole buildings reduced to rubble, widespread fires to apartments and stores. The soldiers did their job a little too well. I hug the wall, then force myself to blink fast. I grunt and bolt across the street as explosions go off in the distance. Then I halt at the corner. Battalions of Tanks parked in the distance, all on The White House's back lawn. I sneak into a corner building. Light silent footsteps as my calves fatigue up the flights of stairs. I pull my gun and a monster stands at the top, he just shrugs, "You army?" "I'm here to kill every last one of those bastards." I holster my gun and walk up with knife in hand. "You should run." The man sighs, "Good luck."

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While explosions come from them taking the rest of the city to the east, I walk into the corner window, overlooking the white house. I stretch and take out the rifle. I huff as I look down the scope. The trees obstructing the oval office's window are gone, seems like a lonely desk. I take out a radio and switch it to the frequency we usually used on patrols, "Come in, J." A minute passes and a sigh comes through, "N-ert, wh-s p?" "Where are you?" The oval office door opens, Jack gets kicked into the room and soldiers burst in. They hold him down as they bring in Mama, Jean- Rose! My finger itches on the trigger. "I'm und-ground!" "Get up here now! They're going to kill them! Oval Office!" "I-" He takes a second.

I wince in this museum, Oval Office, Oval Office... My finger shakes as I study the map of the place. Alright it's there. "I've got it, prepare an armored car." "But-" I wince as my heart skips, "Just do it. West side, less troops, go back to Memphis." "You better get her out, damn it." With a hard cough, blood spatters onto my hand with a smile on my face, "That's my line."