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Rob fell on the ground. The blood ran everywhere. While some of the team mates looked after the closing movements, the others tried to stop the bleeding-- but with no help at all. The wound was to big and they had to get Rob to a paramedic ASAP. "Please!", shouted Rob, "p-ut-- put me out of this misery". Everyone was quite and looked at eachother. While Rob gasped and screamed, only one was brawe enough to stand out from the groups incompacyness. His name was Rayman.
He took his M9 pistol and pointed it to Rob's head. "Thank you, son", shouted out of Rob's mouth right before the trigger was pushed. None said a word. It was all quite.
While everyone was shocked over the execution of their commander, the unidenified movements came in closer.