Reflective Essay: Why Gun Fight?

I can hear the gunfire and screams of terror and anguish that result from it as I crouch behind one of the many carts that lay broken and abandoned in the plaza that I’m currently stationed in. Most of the citizens that had been in the area had hid for cover in their homes as soon as the gunfight had begun, but there were still a few stragglers that had yet to be transported to safety by the other members of my troop. As much as I wanted to help in their safe transport, I couldn’t. I’d been tasked with capturing the Scandinavian drug lord that was commandeering the assault on my team. This meant locating him and keeping eyes on him at all times, no matter how badly I wished I could help. I cleared the mixed emotions from my head, knowing that if they remained

Either way, he had no idea that he was singling himself out for me. It was show time. “Anderson! Cover me!” I yelled to my partner just before sprinting out from behind my temporary shelter and heading towards a group of taller buildings on the east side of the plaza. We’d done similar maneuvers countless times that I didn’t even bother drawing my weapon, knowing that it’d only slow my progress and that he’d drop anyone before they got a chance to so much as level their weapon at me.
When I’d reached the building, I wasted no time opening the front door, instead I jumped through a broken window in one fluid movement and continued my pace as I raced up the flights of stairs to the rooftop.
From this vantage point, I could oversee the entire plaza below as well as the road that the drug lord had taken to escape the fight. I began to fear that I’d been too late, that he’d gone beyond my line of sight when my trained eyes caught him weaving his way between the abandoned vehicles on the