Urban Soldier Novels & Stories

He could not help but feel a little angry. Immediately afterward, he said arrogantly, “Ten Thousand Armies is a mercenary organization that has gathered all of the top mercenaries in the world together. Many of our soldiers are soldiers who have served in the special forces in their countries. More than half of Hamed’s soldiers are illiterate. So, how can this possibly be the same thing? The difference between these two is even bigger than the difference between the United States and Zimbabwe!”

The air inside the army camp felt heavy, the weight of unspoken fears and barely held hope pressing down on everyone. Soldiers moved briskly through the camp, their faces grim, while the distant murmur of parents beyond the barricade added to the tension. Sarah, Collins, and Favour were following a soldier through the maze of tents when another figure appeared, jogging toward them. The man wore a medic’s uniform, his face etched with both urgency and disbelief. “Sarah?” he called out, his voice breaking slightly.

Charles, a German soldier patted Aiden's shoulder lightly when he saw Aiden was loading some of his things into his black backpack inside the tent. “Hmm, I hope so too. But not in an atmosphere of war like this, once in a while I want to see you relaxing on the beach." Charles hit Aiden's shoulder lightly while laughing ridiculously at Aiden's joke. Indeed being a mercenary or sniper like them could never dream of a vacation. Even to meet family members is very difficult. So most of the mercenaries or snipers assigned to conflict areas are single people, who have broken personalities without a soul, because they are required to lose their humanity while on duty.

Miguel was cleaning his caliber 45 in his hut at their camp. That’s where he would live with the other soldiers. He felt like the gun is already a part of him. It was with him like forever. It was his partner way before he was still starting in the army up until now that he became an officer designated in this province. At the age of 28, he’s already successful with what he has achieved in the army. But he admits that it was not an easy road going to where he is now.

"Two of them have yet to awaken. They were bleeding in the brain, yet they are still breathing slightly, albeit their breathing is slowing." Solan looked around the camp and noticed some troops kneeling and wailing while holding onto the body of another soldier. Ice Demon City had a modest population. Everyone knew each other well; these warriors were more like a large family than colleagues. "A soldier lives on the battlefield, and dying on the battlefield is their greatest honour." Everyone heard Solan's cold voice. "The weapons in your hands protected Ice Demon City and the many people who live there. Remember that if we hadn't done this, the bodies spread on the ground would have been yo

Alessa Sullivan Another day had begun, and this time we didn't just have Ukrainian civilians in triage or on our surgery tables. By chance, a Russian military tank had been attacked by Ukrainian troops and, miraculously, the occupants hadn't died from their injuries. In the mid-afternoon, as we were nearly finished with the surgery on the Russian soldier who required a laparotomy and as we completed the sutures from the amputation of his arms, I was reminded again what war brings to men.

As Rebecca drags me back into cover, I turn around and see more soldiers approaching us. "They're here," the soldier yells. "They're here!" "Attack," another soldier yells. "Fire," one of the civilians yells. One of the few with an assault rifle, he leans out and fires at the soldiers. The others follow after him instantly and engage the oncoming soldiers.

I need to see for myself that Livy’s body isn’t here, that Vanessa wasn’t allowed to turn to ash leaving little to bury. “We have a survivor,” a deep voice booms. My vision blurs around the edges as my heart rate spikes and I race towards the voice two others slowly lift bodies out of the way. As I get closer, I realize at once it is too long to be Livy, and far too broad to be Vanessa. But I recognize the soldier’s shape from his sharp angles and well-muscled long limbs. We've served several tours together, both in the city and on the frontlines. He's not just my best friend, he's my comrade, my brother.

The morning rush hour had long ended already. The two of them faced each other under the shade of a nearby magnolia tree. Carl met her eyes and saw the burning curiosity in them. There was no way she was going to let this one go. With a tired sigh, he thought about how he would go about answering her questions. "I used to serve in the military. Special Operatives to be exact. My squad got sent to Iraq a few years ago. We had a mission to take out a terrorist relay tower on the outskirts of a small town. Things started off pretty good at first. My men and I were able to locate their radio room and plant the explosives to disable the machines

“Why let those people suffer out there?” Dylan shrugged. “It’s not their concern. They have what they need. Their lives are fine. They won’t risk it for those in the suburbs.” We kept walking, and I saw the soldiers he’d talked about, standing at the corners, alert and ready. They watched us pass, eyes sharp, like they were waiting for someone to try and break their peace. Their faces were hard, unreadable. There was no warmth, no kindness. Just a job to do. And as long as they kept the high-class werewolves safe, nothing else mattered to them.