Gary Sanderson was a man who wanted a life of adventure, to experience what it felt like to be a hero, whether recognized or not. He didn't care about notoriety or the title of 'war hero'. All he wanted to do was have a little fun, even if it meant dodging bullets and shooting down terrorists. Living a simple life of graduating college, finding a decent girl, and settling down at an early age with a solid job and a family just sounded boring to Sanderson. Maybe some people enjoyed the simplicity, but not him. In fact, he honestly didn't understand why others avoided the challenges and adventures life had to offer. Who wanted to die without any battle scars, anyway? That sounded downright unthinkable to him.

So when Gary received a letter in mail, with a dagger and a pair of spread wings plastered in the top right hand corner, his heart raced. He ripped open the paper, indifferent towards the envelope's damage, and began reading through the words, only really paying attention to keywords, such as 'accepted' , 'training camp', and 'bus will arrive' . He was living his dream. The British Special Air Service had welcomed him in, he had passed his test and was picked out of a select few. Already he was feeling enlightened and giddy. He felt childish as he prepared his few belongings and stared at the walls of his apartment. He knew he'd be kissing this old life 'goodbye'.

But then he saw her face, framed by dark brown, wavy hair. His smile grew. How excited would she be when she heard the news? The lovely girl always encouraged Gary and his dreams, he only hoped her excitement was half as his.

One week. That would be when he'd be waving farewell to his parents and kissing his girlfriend 'goodbye'. That idea would have sounded dreadful to any normal person, but Gary Sanderson was nowhere near normal.