Khoshaba faced down his enemies. He was a soldier operating alongside an invading army and now he was behind enemy lines. They had come to this land because rebels operating under a red flag and a raised fist had launched a coup against the rightful government of the people and ushered in a brutal dictatorship. He and an elite bunch of fighters had been sent ahead to scout enemy movements and deal as much damage as they could. But now he was in trouble.

Khoshaba’s sensors notified him that hostiles were everywhere in this town. Worse, they knew his position and were closing in. Several battalions of troops with automatic weapons, a column of armored vehicles, and several units of helicopter gunship support were coming for him.

A helicopter buzzed overhead. He had to either move or fight. Time was running out. He was currently holed up in front of an old house on a three-way street in the poor part of town. Any civilians that once lived here were long gone. Yahweh be praised; he was here to oust these rebels, not kill defenseless civilians.

Khoshaba got up from his current defense. In front of the house, Khoshaba had laid out a mess of obstacles to give him room to breathe and force the rebels down narrow paths so he could fight less at a time. Down the front, to the left, and to the right, these obstacles would buy him time. The buildings surrounding this battlefield were blocked off or boobytrapped. They would buy him precious time. Sensors were telling him that they were numbering in the thousands before factoring vehicle and air support.

He got up from behind the first series of walls and spikes down the front street and took aim. Automatic fire burst from his energy rifle down the street. He hit a couple soldiers. The rest ducked into cover behind motor transport and trees. The poor trees. These soldiers returned fire. Khoshaba ducked down his own cover.

The firefight was clearly lost for Khoshaba. The troopers would fire off suppressive fire and move forward. Precious time was spent as they advanced on his position. He gave it his best. Khoshaba took out a trooper here and there, forcing the rest to advance more carefully. But his eyes and his rifle could not be everywhere at once and the other side of the street more soldiers would advance.

Khoshaba let them close to a few hundred feet and then he started to pull back, triggering traps and mines as he did. Khoshaba pulled back to a second line of defense, a more established street wall. As he hopped the wall, Khoshaba activated a pair of defensive turrets. They reared up and extended their weapons and personal energy shields. The two turrets laid down fire into the enemy troops. The troopers moved into cover and fired back, trying to break the shields with their ballistic weapons. Grenades were thrown at the turrets from different angles. The turrets immediately saw the threat and shot them out of the air.

Khoshaba took position at the line with the turrets. He put down more automatic fire. He nabbed a kill. Khoshaba was up to eight confirmed kills. But his enemy seemed endless. There were at least a hundred head on this street alone. He pondered how much more were there and took a bullet to his shoulder. The armor on the other side caught it. Khoshaba ducked down and pulled the bullet from the wound. He screamed in pain. Blood oozed from the wound. The armor immediately activated and swelled to cut off the outside from the wound.

His scream improved the morale of the soldiers. They dumped more bullets downrange. An alarm signaled more were coming the left street. He had to abandon his turrets to their fate. The Light shall remember their sacrifice to buy more time.

As Khoshaba rotated to deal with the threat coming up the left street, a building in the right block between front and right streets ringed out an explosion. Soldiers attempting to flank him had run into one of his booby traps. Likely that room collapsed. They were going to have to find another way around. Probably go back and push down the right street.

Khoshaba met soldiers attempting to cross the second line of the left street. He corrected them the error of their ways by bashing a skip grenade into the two men that were over the wall and tossed a fragmentation grenade over the side. Several groans let him know he scored a couple of hits beyond the two that were climbing over.

From there, Khoshaba held the wall. He crushed an energy ball, which overcharged his personal energy shield into a stronger matrix, and jumped over the wall into a mess of hostiles.

Khoshaba surprised them. He cut down two soldiers. Khoshaba turned around and finished off the four that were trying to scale the wall. He ducked and rolled into cover behind a motor transport. Not a moment too soon, at least four soldiers fired at his last position. Khoshaba went from roll into slide and slid out from the other side of the vehicle, firing at soldiers wildly. He charged up a fireball which shocked all the ones in front; at least a dozen troops, before tossing it at them. The fireball exploded, killing three instantly and lighting at least five more on fire.

Khoshaba pulled from his reserves to empower a wall of magical energy. He used it as a riot shield to advance on the next wave of troopers, firing his rifle from the hip. Khoshaba took another kill before falling back into cover. He pulled out a grenade and tossed it over the car. The soldiers advancing on him ducked behind nearby cars as it went off. However, Khoshaba was already up and over the second line wall and clambering over the third line wall. He was having a gut feeling that the right street was under attack.

He was right. A line of soldiers were past the second line and moving on the third. A bang sounding down the front street let him know that his turrets had finally fell. The line of soldiers coming for the third line of the right street didn’t know what hit them. Khoshaba was a bat out of hell. Two shots to the face, a knife stab to the face of number three, a wall of bullets for four, five, and six, and a grenade for seven, eight, nine, and ten, and Khoshaba was back over the third wall.

Time was running out. The house he was in front of was a mess to go through. A buzzing sound was heard overhead coming down one of the streets. He was out of time. Their helicopter support was here. It was now or never.

Khoshaba pulled a beacon from his armored pants and threw it to the ground.

The troopers thought him alone. No one was coming to save him; the front was a hundred miles away. He was all alone and with no supplies. This agent of their enemies would die here and now.

But for Khoshaba, he had his Faith that the Lord would deliver him to the Heavens. As the soldiers closed in on him, a shadow down came from the skies. Khoshaba took one final shot at a soldier coming directly for him. Then the shadow buried the intersection in dust and smoke.

“Missing me, Honey?”

“Not anymore, Faith.”

“That was a cheap shot and a clean miss on that man. You know that, right?”

“I sure do, ma’am.”

Faith walked towards him. She burned Khoshaba’s defenses with the shaking of her hips. She moved in, gave him a quick kiss, her breath down his neck, then pulled Khoshaba to her waist. She opened up and Khoshaba hopped forward. As Khoshaba settled in, he remarked that her grip on him was incredible. He couldn’t break loose. Faith bit her lower lip. It was a lost cause anyways.

This interaction only took at most ten seconds. It was a fast fight. Khoshaba had his Faith back and she wasn’t taking any prisoners today.