Qatar - Middle East- 3rd Person POV

"Oh, God, five months of this. I can't wait to get a little taste of home. A plate of mama's alligators étouffée... Mmm." Figueroa tells his friends as they sit in the back of the helicopter.

"You've been talking about barbecued 'gators and crickets for the last two weeks. I'm never going to your mama's house, Fig. I promise." Epps complains.

"But Bobby, Bobby-" Fig tries to defend.

"I'm never going to your mama's house." Epps interrupts.

"Bobby, 'gators are known to have the most succulent meat." Fig explains, trying to justify his food.

"I understand." Epps says, uninterested. Fig starts speaking Spanish and Epps rolls his eyes, mimicking the Spanish words. "English, please. English."

"I don't- I mean, how many times have we- we don't speak Spanish. I told you that." Lennox explains to Fig, reminding him another time about the language nobody else spoke on the team.

"Why you got to ruin it for me, man? That's my heritage." Fig argues, speaking Spanish.

"Fine. Go with the Spanish. Whatever." Lennox tells him, giving up.

"Hey, you guys remember weekends? Huh? The Sox at Fenway. Cold hotdog and a flat beer." Donnelly promts.

"Perfect day." Epps agrees.

"What about you, Captain? You got a perfect day?" Fig asks Lennox.

"I just can't wait to get home and see my girl." Lennox shares, smiling slightly.

"Awww..." Everyone says unanimously.

"He's adorable. I'm telling her you said that." Donnelly teases.

"That's too-" Epps joins in.

"Shut up." Lennox tells them, ending the teasing. They land soon after, everyone separating to do different things. Lennox is sitting on a bench writing in a notebook.

"Lennox!" Mahfouz calls, the little boy running over to him.

"Hey, how you doing?" Lennox greets, smiling.

"Water?" Mahfouz asks him, holding out a canteen.

"Oh, thank you. Are you gonna help me with the gear?" Lennox asks, taking the canteen. Sometime later, Lennox heads over to the comm tent to Skype his girlfriend, and his lieutenant, Kathryn Witwicky, who was stateside visiting her family.

"My girl on?" Lennox asks as he walks into the tent.

"Yes, Captain." A soldier answers before walking away, giving them space.

South Gate, CA - Kate POV

I'm in my childhood bedroom, making final preparations before Skyping my boyfriend,Will. I took a long overdue furlough to surprise my brother Sam with a visit and help him pick out a car. I hear my laptop ringing and I hurry over to my desk, sitting down, before accepting the video call.

"Hey! My lady!" Will greets, smiling and I grin back.

"Hey!" I exclaim, laughing, and he grins widely.

"God, it's good to hear you laugh, Kate. These guys are driving me crazy." He complains and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, it's not much better here. My parents are constantly asking about you, and when they get to see you again. I'm fighting them off so much, it's like a war zone. I think I would prefer to be in one actually. Promise they won't scare you away? If anyone could, it'd be them. I mean it. They've gotten much crazier since high school." I inform him, referencing the only time he met them, the day we were shipped off after we graduated and he laughs.

"I'm in war zones everyday. Nothing could scare me away, babe." He assures me and I smile.

"Good. Because I told them you'd have dinner with us as soon as you came back. So you better come back. Otherwise, I'm never taking another furlough for as long as I live. Got it, Lennox?" I tell him sternly and he smiles, holding his hands up.

"Yes, Ma'am. So, how's civilian life?" He asks and I scoff.

"I hate it. It's boring. I want to be where the action is. It's why I joined the Army. Besides, I miss you and the guys. What did you do today? Did you get to the base okay? How's Mahfouz?" I ask and he tells me all about his day, which leads him to want to hear all about mine. The connection starts to become spotty and I sigh.

"Will?" I ask, not seeing him clearly.

"Kate? Hey, Katie, if you can hear me, I love you and I'll be home soon." Will tells me just before the connection finally dies.

"Shit." I swear, disappointed at our conversation being cut short, as I shut the laptop.

Qatar- Middle East- 3rd POV

"Kate? Hey, Katie, if you can hear me, I love you and I'll be home soon." Lennox promises before the connection dies and he sighs. "Damn." Lennox curses before heading out of the communications tent. As he's walking, the lights explode, causing him to grunt from the shock of the tremor.

"They bombed the antenna farm! We're under attack!" Epps yells, running through the base, alerting the others of an attack. The attacker, a large black robot, begins shooting trucks and tents. Lennox and his team run to the tanks, with their weapons. Lennox notices Mahfouz behind him and turns to him.

"Here, come here! Come here!" He tells him, grabbing his hand before picking him up and carrying him. The robot is speaking in some kind of language and there are soldiers shouting.

"Here, hide in here!" Lennox instructs him, putting Mahfouz between two tanks, before Lennox sits in front of him and Fig slides down next to him.

"Oh, my God. Okay." He mutters, glancing up at the giant robot. Epps is suddenly trapped by the robot's foot as he was trying to run.

"No!" He exclaims as he dodges the giant foot, while the robot is speaking in it's language.

"Oh! Oh-" He trails off as he looks at the face through his binoculars. The robot speaks in it's language again.

"What the f-" Epps shouts, getting up and running after the robot aims weapons at him. The robot speaks in it's language again before Fig hits it with a grenade which appears to do little damage.

"Epps, let's go!" Lennox calls out to his friend and they run away from the base and the robot, hearing the soldiers dying scream and the horrible screeching as they retreat with Mahfouz.

South Gate, CA- Kate POV

The next day, we are taking Sam to get a car so, I get dressed in a light gray tank top, black ripped skinny jeans, black combat boots, my camo army jacket and my silver dog tags. I put my black aviator sunglasses on the top of my head, my dark brown hair reaching just below my shoulder blades in layered waves. Dad and I wait out in his car, a forest green 1961 Austin Healey 3000 convertible, after Sam's school ends so we can go get him his car. My sunglasses are over my hazel eyes and I lean back in the passenger seat as we wait for him to come out.

"Yes! Yes, yes." Sam exclaims as he rushes to the car and climbs into the backseat. Dad and I turn to look at him, with me pushing my sunglasses down my nose to look at him, as we wait.

"So?" I ask him, wondering if he managed to pull it off.

"A-minus. It's an A, though." He defends, showing dad the paper and I smirk.

"Wait, wait, wait. I can't see. It's an A." Dad finally agrees as he sees the grade.

"So I'm good?" Sam asks him, excitedly.

"You're good." I confirm, pushing my aviators back up my nose before we pull away from the school.

"I got a little surprise for you, son." Dad informs Sam as we pull into a dealership, which I notice is a Porsche one and I frown, knowing what's coming, since he did this to me too.

"What kind of s-" Sam asks before realizing where we are.

"Yeah, a little surprise." Dad repeats, as we drive past the Porsche sign on the dealership building.

"No. No, no, no, no! Dad! Oh, you got to be kidding me." Sam exclaims excitedly.

"Yeah. I am. You're not getting a Porsche." Dad informs him, before starting to laugh and I smirk.

"You think that's funny?" Sam asks, sounding severely disappointed.

"Yeah, I think it's funny." Dad tells him, still sounding amused.

"It's definitely funny when it isn't happening to you." I admit from my seat, and I notice my little brother's glare.

"What's wrong with you?" My brother asks us, and I rest a hand on his shoulder, still smirking.

"You think I'd really get you a Porsche? For your first car?" Dad asks him, incredulously.

"I didn't get a Porsche for a first car, so there's no way you are!" I explain, chuckling at his expense.

"I don't want to talk to either of you for the rest of this whole thing." He informs us and I compose myself.

"Oh, come on. It's just a practical joke." He says, before laughing again.

"It's not a funny joke." He mutters and I turn to look at him in the backseat.

"Come on, Samuel, I'm only here for 2 weeks! Enjoy it!" I tell him, poking his ribs playfully.

"Here? No, no, no, what is this? You said- you said half a car, not half a piece of crap, dad." Sam complains as we walk around the dealership.

"When I was your age, I'd have been happy with four wheels and an engine." Dad replies to him.

"Yeah and I was happy with that 'piece of crap' jeep I drove in high school before I deployed. You could have had that, if dad didn't sell it to help with the landscaping bills." I tell him, and dad shrugs.

"Okay, let me explain something to you. Okay? You ever see 40-Year-Old Virgin?" Sam asks our dad and he nods.

"Yeah." He confirms.

"Okay, that's what this is." Sam explains, gesturing to an old mini coop. " And this is 50-year-old virgin." Sam explains, gesturing to another beat up car.

"Ah, okay." Dad says as he realizes what Sam is saying.

"You want me to live that life? Hmm?" Sam asks him, and I roll my eyes.

"No sacrifice-" Dad starts and I put a hand to my forehead at the family motto.

"Yeah, no victory." Sam finishes, already having heard the motto dozens of times.

"No victory." Dad and I say in unison, although I say it sounding bored.

"You know, I got it. The old Witwicky motto, dad." Sam mutters and I sigh.

"Right." Dad replies.

"Gentlemen. Miss. Bobby Bolivia, like the country, except without the runs." He introduces, joking before he laughs, and I inwardly cringe at his laugh. "How can I help you?" He asks us once he stops.

"Well, my son here... looking to buy his first car." Dad explains to him.

"You come to see me?" Bolivia asks, sounding surprised.

"I had to." Sam replies petulantly.

"That practically makes us family. Uncle Bobby B, baby. Uncle Bobby B." Bolivia responds and I roll my eyes from behind my aviators.

"Sam." My irritated little brother introduces himself as he shakes Bolivia's hand.

"Sam, let me talk to you. Sam, your first enchilada of freedom awaits underneath one of those hoods. Let me tell you something, son. A driver don't pick the car. The car'll pick the driver." Bolivia informs him, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulder and I raise my brows at that.

"Mm." Sam mumbles, sharing a look with me.

"It's a mystical bond between man and machine. Son, I'm a lot of things, but a liar's not one of them." Bolivia assures us and I roll my eyes again, thinking a liar is one of those 'things' that are Bolivia.

"Mm." I mumble this time, not quite buying into his pitch.

"Especially not in front of my mammy. That's my mammy." Bolivia informs us, pointing to an older woman in a front yard behind the dealership. "Hey, Mammy!" He calls out and Mammy flips him the bird, causing me to laugh. "Ooh, don't be like that. If I had a rock, I'd bust your head, bitch. I tell you, man, she deaf, you know?" He explains, laughing. "Well, over here, every piece of car a man might want or need." He tells us, leading us to the cars.

"This ain't bad. This one's got racing stripes." Sam comments, walking up to a yellow, rusted Camaro with black racing stripes.

"Dude, chicks dig racing stripes." I tell him, nudging his side with a wink. "Will had a blue Charger with white stripes and I loved that car. It was so hot." I admit, biting my lip and he winces.

"Stop! I don't want to know, okay, Katie?" He says, his voice higher than normal and I chuckle.

"Yeah. It got racing- Yeah, what's this? What the heck is this? I don't know nothing about this car." He mutters as Sam looks inside of it. "Manny!" He calls out and a mechanic comes out of the garage.

"What?" Manny asks, sounding annoyed.

"What is this? This car! Check it out!" Bolivia tells him while Sam opens the car's door.

"I don't know, boss! I've never seen it! That's loco!" Manny replies and I take a look inside of the car.

"Needs some major TLC, but other than that, it's a pretty nice car, Samuel." I comment, putting a hand on his shoulder and he rolls his eyes and sits in front of the wheel.

"Don't go Ricky Ricardo on me, Manny! Find out!" Bolivia calls over to him.

"Feels good." Sam admits and I smirk as he smiles, rubbing off some dust on the horn to reveal a symbol of some kind. I hear Manny speaking in Spanish, which makes me think of Fig and I frown, missing my unit and wondering what they're doing.

"How much?" Dad asks Bolivia after seeing Sam in the car, and my nod.

"Well, considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and the custom paint job..." Bolivia trails off, his hands resting on the hood and I roll my eyes at him trying to scam us out of more money.

"Yeah, but the paint's faded." Sam comments and I smile at him.

"Y-yeah, but it's custom." Bolivia defends and I scoff.

"It's custom faded?" I ask him, taking off my sunglasses and putting in my front breast pocket, where Witwicky is sewn on the name patch.

"Well, this is your first car. I wouldn't expect you to understand." Bolivia says to Sam, ignoring me, before looking over at our father. "Five grand." He answers the previous question, and I scoff.

"No, I'm not paying over four. Sorry." He says to him.

"Kid, come on, get out. Get out the car." Bolivia tells Sam, leaning in the window.

"No, no, no. You said cars pick their drivers." Sam argues.

"Well, sometimes they pick a driver with a cheap-ass father. Out the car." He tells him before coughing. "Now, this one here for four Gs is a beaut." Bolivia comments, gesturing to a beat up Volkswagen bug.

"There's a Fiesta with racing stripes over there." Dad tries to show Sam.

"No, I don't want a Fiesta with racing stripes." Sam rejects it as he gets out of the camaro.

"This is a classic engine right here. I sold a car the other day-" He explains before the camaro's passenger door swings open, hitting the bug next to it.

"Geez. Holy cow." Dad comments while I hurry over and help Bolivia out of the car.

"No, no, no. No worries." He brushes off.

"You all right?" Dad asks him, as he and Sam walk over.

"I'll get a sledgehammer and knock this right out." He assures us. "Hey, hey, Manny! Get your clown cousin and get some hammers and come bang this stuff out, baby!" He yells before laughing.

"Greater than man..." I swear I hear over the camaro's radio but I shake my head, blaming it on lack of sleep or jet lag or the time change.

"That one's my favorite, drove all the way from Alabamy." Bolivia points, starting to walk to a different car, before all of the windows of the cars shatter at the same time.

"Woah!" Bolivia and Dad exclaim, but I cover my face and Sam's with my camo jacket, since explosions aren't a novel thing for me to experience, I'm completely calm, being used to war zones. Bolivia takes a look around the dealership before turning back to us.

"Four thousand!" He relents, gasping and I smirk. We head home and I grab a bottle of beer before standing in the doorway, watching my parents attempt to landscape the backyard, which doesn't look half bad.

"Ron, this one is uneven." My mother informs him, stomping on a stone piece.

"Yeah. Probably." Dad agrees as he keeps working.

"This one is wobbly." She complains, standing on a wobbly pathway piece.

"Yeah. I'll take care of that real soon." He promises as I take another swig of my beer.

"Couldn't we have hired a professional?" She asks, sounding exasperated and I chuckle as he laughs sarcastically before Sam walks on the grass.

"Ah, Sam..." Dad calls out to him.

"What?" He asks, confused, stopping where he stands.

"...I do not like footprints on my grass." Dad explains, tossing his gloves off.

"What foot- there's no footprints." Sam argues, looking back to where he walked.

"That's why I built my path. So why don't you go from my grass onto my path, okay?" Dad asks, directing Sam to the path.

"It's family grass, Dad." Sam objects as he walks to the pathway and I chuckle again, just watching them, having missed their craziness while I've been deployed.

"Well, when you own your own grass, you'll understand." Dad replies, waving a hand.

"This, this, I can't do it anymore." Sam complains to our mom.

"What?" She asks, smiling slightly from dad and his disagreement.

"You're putting girl jewelry on a boy dog. He's got enough self-esteem issues as a Chihuahua, Mom." Sam explains and I smirk.

"That's his bling..." Mom defends and I laugh. "I want you home at eleven o'clock!" She calls out to Sam.

"Yeah, all right." Sam agrees as he gets in the car.

"Eleven o'clock!" Dad reinforces and I smile at them.

"Please, for the love of God, drive safely." She calls out before Sam starts the car, causing black smoke to pour out of the exhaust and she gasps.

"Seat belt on!" Dad reminds Sam as he drives away.

"Wow. You are so cheap." I comment, referring to the smog and mom chuckles in agreement.

"Well, it's his first car. It's supposed to be like that." Dad defends before I head back into the house. Sometime later, I'm watching tv with another beer when I settle on the news.

"At this time, we can't confirm whether there were any survivors." Keller, the secretary of Defense explains and I gasp, recognizing my base.

"Oh, my God. Will." I mutter, my beer falling to the floor, shattering and I feel tears falling down my face as I think about my boyfriend and my best friends, and how they might be dead.

"Our bases worldwide are, as of now, at DEFCON Delta, our highest readiness level." The press conference continues but my sobbing is so loud, my parents rush in.

"Katie? Sweetie, what's wrong?" Mom asks me worriedly and I look at the tv.

"That's my unit, Mom. Will.." I trail off, breaking into sobs again, and my mom gathers me into a motherly hug.

"We're dealing with a very effective weapons system that we have not come across before. But our prayers are with the families of the brave men and women-" The secretary continues until Dad shuts it off, and they guide me to the couch, placing a blanket over me while I sob loudly into the pillow.