Unseen Scars

Alex underwent a surgery in a South Korean hospital to remove the bullets and the next few days were a haze for him. Contrary to what he had assumed, it had been over four months since the North Korean mission. Once he was handed over to the US military, he had to undergo extensive physical and psychological evaluations. 

The verdict was that he had a minor case of claustrophobia and severe malnourishment. There were obvious signs of muscle and bone trauma, but they looked mostly healed. Except for this, he was general tested 'okay'. Alex didn't correct them otherwise, either. He decided to keep his particular condition under wraps for now. Besides, he had more concerning matters to deal with.

 The NK mission made international news, and the UN Peacebuilding Commission severely reprimanded the US Navy for breaking several international treaties. But this was just the tip of the iceberg. Alex learned that not just Phil and Jon but seven of his 12-man troop were KIA. Out of the rest, three had to be medically discharged due to injury, while the remaining members were either suspended or assigned to different units. Team 3 was officially disbanded. Finally, The HVI was declared executed by enemy troops.

Lieutenant Commander Harris, the leader of SEAL Team 3, and one of the people who survived had been dishonourably discharged. He was labelled as the sole perpetrator responsible for the death of the HVI, the SEALS and the failure of the mission. Alex couldn't believe it. No matter how you looked at it; It was obvious a cover-up. The higher-ups were saving their skin and shifting the blame. LC Harris was the fall guy. The intel was bad, and the enemy knew they were coming. Someone had messed up, either on accident or on purpose, but it wasn't Team 3.

The higher-ups had swiftly moved to deflect blame, using Harris as a scapegoat. The official report painted a picture of gross negligence and poor decision-making on Harris's part. It glossed over the faulty intel and the possibility of a mole. The true scope of the mission's failure was buried under layers of bureaucracy and red tape.

During his recovery, several intelligence officers questioned Alex for days. They were relentless, their questions ranging from where he had been, whether he was captured, if he turned traitor, and how he had managed to escape. Alex stuck to a carefully crafted story. He told them that he had fallen into a cave during the mission and had spent days trying to climb out, only to find himself in the wilderness and eventually making his way to the border. He said nothing about the pond and his newfound abilities.

The officers probed deeper, trying to catch any inconsistencies in his story, even using lie detectors. They grilled him on the details of his journey, the terrain, the wildlife, and any encounters he had. Alex remained steadfast, recounting the same tale with calm. He attributed his survival to his training and sheer willpower, emphasizing the hardships he faced and the injuries he sustained.

"How did you manage to evade capture for so long?" one officer asked, his eyes boring into Alex.

"I relied on my training," Alex replied evenly. "I stayed off the main paths, moved primarily at night, and avoided any sign of human activity. It was a matter of survival."

The interrogations continued for days, each session more intense than the last. The officers seemed determined to find a hole in his story, but Alex's recounting never wavered. He described the cave, the rugged terrain, and the relentless push to reach the border. He portrayed himself as a man driven by the will to survive, downplaying any extraordinary abilities.

Alex kept thinking about LC Harris and his team. he knew that challenging the official narrative would be dangerous. He had to tread carefully, gathering evidence and allies without drawing too much attention. He started by reaching out to the surviving members of Team 3, hoping to piece together the truth of what happened.

Strangely enough, none of them came to visit him during the recovery period. He felt something wasn't right, so When Alex was discharged from the Navy Medical Centre, Alex applied for a 1-week leave and left to meet LC Harris.

[Phoenix, Arizona]

Alex stood outside the modest house, the US flag flying on the front porch. The lawn looked overgrown. Hesitating for a moment before knocking on the door, he finally took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles against the wood. When the door opened, Alex was taken aback. Harris looked like a shadow of the man he once knew. His eyes were bloodshot, and the smell of alcohol was invasive.

"Alex," Harris greeted with a weak smile, his voice gruff. "Come on in. I heard you returned from the dead. Had to see it to believe it."

Alex stepped inside, noting the empty bottles scattered around and the general state of disarray. 20 years of service all went down the drain for a mistake he did not commit. Harris led him to the living room, where they sat on a messy-looking couch.

"It's been a while, Commander," Alex started, unsure of how to begin the conversation.

Harris let out a bitter laugh. "You don't need to call me 'Commander' anymore, Alex. Not after what happened."

Alex gave a recount of what had happened to him, the same version he gave to the intelligence officers.

"What really went down, sir?" asked Alex.

Harris sighed, rubbing his temples.

"We had the HVI in our sights. Everything seemed to be going according to plan," Harris began, his voice steady but laced with bitterness. "But the intel was bad. The enemy knew we were coming. It was an ambush. We walked right into a trap."

Alex felt a knot form in his stomach as Harris continued. "We were pinned down, outnumbered, and outgunned. The firefight was brutal. Then the explosion happened. We lost sight of you, Phil and Jon."

"The rest of the team fought through." Harris's eyes glistened as he relived the memory. "We managed to hold our ground long enough to send a distress signal. A chopper was dispatched for extraction, but it wasn't without consequence. By the time it arrived, we were barely holding on."

Alex's mind flashed back to the desperate moments of the battle. The sound of gunfire, the smell of gunpowder, and the cries of his teammates still haunted him.

"The extraction was a nightmare," Harris continued. "We were trying to carry the wounded, dodging enemy fire. We lost more men during the fucking retreat. It was a miracle any of us made it out alive."

Alex's heart ached as he listened.

"We made it to the chopper, but the damage was done," Harris said, his voice breaking. "We lost so many good men that day. The HVI was executed before we could extract him. It was a complete shitshow."

Harris looked at Alex, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret. "The higher-ups needed someone to blame. They pinned it all on me. Said it was my decision-making that led to the ambush. But... it wasn't just me, Alex. Someone betrayed us."

Alex clenched his fists, anger simmering beneath the surface. "Why didn't you fight back, sir?"

Harris shook his head, a defeated look in his eyes. "Because they threatened to ruin all your careers. They were going to force the entire team.... or what was left of the team, into early retirement and condemn the fallen members. Destroy everything we had worked for. I couldn't let that happen. Taking the fall was the only way to protect Team 3."

Anger flashed in Alex's eyes as he realized what happened.

"You didn't deserve this, sir. None of us did."

Harris took a deep swig from a nearby bottle before answering. "I did what I had to do. But it doesn't change the fact that I failed you all. I was supposed to protect you, to lead you. And look what happened."

"You didn't fail us," Alex said firmly. "We were betrayed from the start. We need to find out who set us up and why."

Harris let out a weary sigh. "Easier said than done. They will be watching us, Alex. Every move we make. Trying to dig into this could get us all killed. Keep your head low and stay in line. As you former LC, that's my last order. "

They talked a bit more; Harris made him swear not to act stupidly and impulsively. Alex was about to leave his house when,

" I want you to have this; I have no use for this anymore." Harries hands him a case, which has his Service AR, an M4 Carbine.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Also, thanks for being alive", LC Harris murmured. It was probably inaudible to a normal ear, but Alex heard it clearly.

It was heartbreaking for Alex to see his commander like this. When he left the house, he swore a solemn oath to get his revenge. He had been wondering why he was given these powers. But now it didn't matter. He was going to do everything he could to get justice for his team. 

[Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia]

When Alex returned to the base, he was summoned to the office of Rear Admiral Fletcher. The air felt heavy as Alex approached the door, steeling himself for whatever awaited inside. He knocked and entered when bidden, standing at attention as the Rear Admiral looked up from his desk.

"At ease, Petty Officer," Fletcher said, his tone sharp yet trying to feign warmth. "Please, have a seat."

Alex sat down, his posture still rigid. He could feel the Admiral's eyes on him, studying him carefully.

"I understand you've been through quite an ordeal," Fletcher began. "Your resilience is commendable, Officer Alex."

"Your 4 year tenure is coming up, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Alex replied, keeping his voice steady.

Fletcher leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands together. "You've served your country with honour, and I want you to know that doesn't go unnoticed. Given your recent experiences and the loss of many of your team, you have the option not to reenlist. You're young and have your whole life ahead of you. In fact, I can set you up with a private security agency. The pay is way better, not to mention the flexible hours."

Though worded like a sincere suggestion, Alex detected the venom beneath the Rear Admiral's words, the subtle pressure to accept the 'kind' offer.

"Thank you, sir," Alex responded, his tone measured. "I appreciate the concern and the offer. However, the Navy is my home. I belong here."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Fletcher's face before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. "Loyalty is admirable, Petty Officer. But think about your future. There are opportunities outside the Navy that might be more suitable given your... circumstances."

"My circumstances, sir?" Alex questioned, his eyes locking with the Rear Admirals. "With all due respect, my experiences have only strengthened my resolve. I intend to continue serving and to honour the memory of my fallen comrades."

Fletcher's smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "Very well, Alex. Just know that staying means following orders and maintaining discipline. Any deviation will not be tolerated."

"Understood, sir," Alex said firmly.

As he left the office, Alex could feel the weight of Fletcher's displeasure following him. He knew that staying in the Navy would be fraught with challenges and scrutiny, but he was determined. This was his home, and he owed it to his fallen teammates to find the truth and seek justice.

Over the next few days, Alex focused on regaining his strength and reintegrating into the routine of military life. He kept a low profile, as Harris had advised.

Petty Officer Alex Bishop's escape and return have caused quite a bit of stir and became the talk of the base. He was the one who came back from the dead; because of his achievements and the fact he traversed across enemy territory alone while injured, Alex was awarded the Purple Heart and got promoted to the rank of Ensign(O-1). But officially, he was simultaneously reprimanded by multiple higher officials for the failure of the mission and for painting the Navy in a bad light resulting in him getting blacklisted. This meant the chance of him ever getting promoted and advancing in the Navy was all but dead.

Alex also got his new orders, and he was being reassigned to the Navy K9 unit.