<span style="color: #0040FF"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Samuel Richard Johnson</span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;">Sergeant Johnson; Sammy</div></span><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://covermenmag.com/niklasnilsson/pixInt/h.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">"Try to slap her awake will we run here. We need her alive and kicking when we are back at the plane,"</span></span></span>Tom ordered and Sam was hesitant. He wasn't exactly sure he could control how hard he hit the woman, between carrying the bags and the adrenaline pumping through him. He shrugged, deciding that it really didn't matter so long as she woke up. A resounding smack echoed through the area and what bird-like animals there were flew away.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #00FF00">"Ow!"</span></span></span>said a groggy, feminine voice. Sam couldn't help but give a small smile of victory to the Major.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #0040FF">"Looks like she is awake now," </span></span>he said as they continued their journey. He kept a vigilant lookout for anything dangerous, not wanting another episode as they had outside the plane.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #BF0000">Karra Lee Micheals</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #BF0000">Captain Micheals</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/d8d8d07d-bef1-4b12-bb9c-4a8ccbe576b0_zps6c4f5818.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/>When Karra came back to the world of awareness, she knew something had turned out badly. She could only recall Tom's horrified face and the awful static that came over the headset before everything went black. Now, as her eyes fluttered against the light, she could feel the pain that radiated throughout her body. It took her everything not to move and cry out. Sweat was across her forehead and she felt dizzy and sick, her heart pounding, and the throbbing in her abdomen told her she had been severely injured. She recognized the pain of shrapnel, but this was the first time that she felt it so deep. She could taste the iron of her blood in her mouth.<br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #BF0000"><br/>"T-T-Tom?"</span></span>she stuttered out, her eyes not being able to focus. She couldn't make out where she was and she worried that something had happened to Tom.<span style="color: #BF0000"><span style="font-weight: bold">"T-tom?"</span></span>she called again, her voice becoming watery. Her heart began to pound as she began to panic. What happened to Tom? Where was he?<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #BF0000">"TOM!?" </span></span>she cried out, tears had already begun to make their way down her cheeks. She put her hand over the wound, feeling the metal jutting out. She knew she couldn't pull it out, not if she wanted to survive. She tried to sit up, using her legs to push backwards some, but felt a hand on her shoulder that pushed her back down, but it didn't feel like Tom's.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="color: #BF0000">"Tom? Tom?? Tom...? Tom...please...Tom!"</span></span>she brought her hands to her face, the pain becoming unbearable and the idea of Tom being gone overwhelming her thoughts. If it were anyone else but Tom, she would have been able to hold it together, but it wasn't anyone else. It was Tom, her Tom, her co-pilot, the love of her life--and something happened.