Bumping Shoulders with the Slim Reaper

"Fu*k! What is team B doing!"

The bearded man held up the rifle and shot back while retreating back to the deep water harbor in panic.

"Mission failed, retreat, I repeat, mission failed…" Blood dripped down from the scratch on his forehead, Srell in a black combat suit shouted into the microphone ordering team C to immediately retreat.

An unprecedented defeat. A helicopter crashed. An entire team of elites fell without any survivors. The opponent's combat ability far exceeded what they had imagined. The metal thing that popped out from under the water instantly suppressed team B. They didn't expect this at all.

"Sh*t, is that Ironman?" A soldier with a rifle cursed while panting.

"Bullsh*t!" Someone else swore.

"Then what the fu*ck-"

"Shut up! Retreat to the boat and remain alert!" Srell in short breaths slowed down, threw a C4 on the ground and caught up with the team again.

The siren in the distance was becoming more visible.