Cracks and pops.

The sounds of gunfire in the far distance echoed over the hills and rocks of the terrain. Joshua, and a few other men decked out in military gear, strutted through the desertous valley alone. Sand covered their faces, dirty bandages wrapped around their arms and legs, and their movements were sluggish and exhausted. 

"This is fun," said one of them, "I'm having fun." Sarcasm coated his tone. 

"You should try to have more fun," said Joshua. "Come on, team, you know why we're here. We gotta keep moving."

"I'm just here to pay my college debt, not die of heat stroke."

Joshua chuckled in response to this. "You're spec ops, you won't die of heat stroke."

Nobody responded to his words. They continued to trudge along until they reached a long fence with a gate in the center. A plastic plaque on the chain-link read 'U.S Encampment -- Do not enter unless authorized.'

The squadron of men, evidently authorized, unlocked the gate and entered. After a short walk, they reached a collection of tents and tables outside. Joshua skipped ahead, heading to the command tent whilst the others reported to the barracks.

He entered the command tent and looked directly ahead, only to see a middle-aged man with brown hair and aviator glasses sat at a desk. The man's glare shot up to Joshua as he entered, and the man smiled. "Joshua!"

Joshua smiled back at him. "Major General. We made it back, no casualties. Six terrorists dead, twelve others on unidentified status."

"Very good. That encampment won't find us, then. Base is secure, good work." The Major General stood and put his hands on his belt. "We got some reports'a weird activity out in airspace, so you guys can take a break for the week."

"Air activity?" asked Joshua, "What's goin' on? Terrorists got airplanes now?"

"Drones, maybe." The general shrugged. "Best not to think too hard about it. Air force business. Your spec ops, only worry about the pilots when you need'em." He chuckled.

Joshua chuckled along with him.