I've had this Generation Kill story idea for well over a year now, and finally got started on it! I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated xoxo

The events and descriptions of the people in this story is SOLELY based on the TV miniseries Generation Kill, and is in no way affiliated with the real men that show portrays. I do not want to disrespect the real Evan Wright, Nate Fick, or any of the men who served with the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion, this is purely for fun and entertainment.

Chapter 1: The Assignment

"Shakoor!"

Kelly blew a strand of her dark hair out of her face, lowering the receiver of her phone. She tried to mask the annoyance on her face, but the scowl etched on her face was clearly seen by her interrupter. Ella was standing in front of her desk, grasping a few loose papers, appearing rushed and frantic.

"Shakoor-"

Kelly raised her pointer finger, signaling the jittery woman to wait, "I'm in the middle of a story on R. Kelly, can't this wait?"

Ella shook her head, "no, the manager needs to see you right away!"

Kelly arched an incredulous brow at the woman, not believing what she was hearing. She doubted the district manager of Rolling Stone would want to see her, a journalist who had just started writing for the magazine a month ago.

Ella shifted back and forth in place, anxiously waiting for Kelly's response. Seeing how serious Ella looked made all the uncertainty fade from Kelly, and a pit of nervousness settle in the pit of her gut.

"You're positive," Kelly questioned.

Ella nodded rapidly, her head bobbing up and down.

Kelly worked her jaw in thought, suddenly fearing that she was in trouble. She told the person on the other line that she'd have to call back, then hung up the phone. As Kelly made her way down the busy halls and corridors, her mind raced with the possibilities of why the manager would want to meet with her. She wondered if it was because her writing on the latest article she submitted was subpar, or if she had submitted a draft filled with typos. Her mind raced as she entered the distract manager's office door, knocking subtly to signal she had arrived.

A man stood in front of the distract manager's desk. He glanced back at Kelly, a small smile gracing his thin lips. Kelly looked back and forth between the manager and the man, feeling like something was brewing in between the two.

"Ah, Kelly Shakoor, please come in," the manager greeted, as he busily organized papers on his desk.

Kelly obediently stepped forward, her dark eyes suspiciously studying the man who stood beside her. The man averted his eyes from her, shyly, looking back at the manager.

The manager leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands before him, resting them on his desk. He seemed adamant about something, but also slightly hesitant to explain what that was. The man next to her seemed more eager about whatever news the manager was about to bear.

"Ms. Shakoor, this is Evan Wright, he's a fellow journalist here," the manager introduced, nonchalantly.

The two exchanged a silent greeting.

"I have an assignment for you, Ms. Shakoor, one where you'll accompany Mr. Wright. It's a big one," the manager explained, pausing to clear his throat, "the two of you are going to be sent to report with the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion."

"The military?" Kelly asked, puzzled.

"The Marines, actually. You both will be traveling with the battalion as embedded journalists, covering the invasion of Iraq."

Kelly gaped at her boss. "You want to send us… in a warzone?"

The manager waved his hand at her, dismissively, "it's common this day and age, Rolling Stone wants an article focused on first-hand accounts of the war on terror. Mr. Wright wanted this assignment, and convinced a damned commander to get it, but there's one condition: he can't go alone."

Kelly stared at Evan, stunned. "Why was I chosen?"

"You're of Middle-Eastern descent, aren't you, Kelly," the manager asked.

Kelly felt herself grow stiff, "that's correct, but I was born here, I'm American."

"My boss wants an account from someone who can 'better relate' to what is going on over there, and you're the only Muslim writer we have."

Kelly's brows furrowed, "I'm not Muslim, sir, I don't practice that religion, I'm a Christian. My last name is Shakoor, but my parents immigrated here to-"

The manager shrugged, cutting her off: "You're the only choice we got. You can refuse, but the rest of management wouldn't be thrilled with your decision. Look, this is the opportunity of a lifetime, you'll be offered a raise, not to mention the chance to work on the story of the decade."

Kelly softened, thinking about what this potential story could bring. They would be heading into a warzone to directly document what was happening, but with the rewards to come, there was great danger. The two men let her analyze her decision for a moment, waiting patiently for her much anticipated reply.

Kelly Shakoor's parents had fled from Afghanistan before she was born, settled in the United States before starting a family. She had been raised as a basic American child, able to choose her own religion and pursue an education as she pleased. But seeing the Middle East in turmoil did upset her, and her parents, deeply. Part of her wondered if she could shed some light on the true events that were happening overseas; report on what is happening to the innocents. These were her people, weren't they? Did she feel she owed them some sort of justice? It was a complicated answer - one Kelly wasn't really sure of herself.

She finally nodded. "I'll do it."

0000

Kelly and Evan left the office in awestruck and quiet, attempting to process the fact that they'd be heading to Iraq at the end of the week. Evan smiled at her a moment, wanting to say something, but he looked away. He wasn't sure how to talk to this woman. She had only been writing for Rolling Stone for a month, but she already had a reputation for being headstrong, determined, and very passionate in her writing. He had read some of her articles, admiring how she wasn't afraid to be blatant with the truth. Kelly had been recently assigned to cover Billboard's top songs, something she wasn't thrilled with. Kelly wanted to make a difference with her writing, and now as far as Evan could see, was given her golden opportunity to write about something immensely important.

"So, Kelly..." Evan started, awkwardly.

"Mr. Wright, was I chosen for this assignment because I'm a good writer, or just because of my race," Kelly interjected, her tone stern.

Evan was taken aback. "I don't... uh-"

"That's what I thought," she clipped, quickening her pace ahead of Evan.

Evan was afraid she was angry at him because of this choice, but to his surprise she cast a leer at him over her shoulder. Her eyes fixed his in firm conviction.

"I'm going to prove to them that I should've been selected because of my writing. I'm going to write the best damn story Rolling Stones has ever seen."