Amy's face was a picture that I would keep with me, easily reviewed, every time my eyes would close. The memory would replay what I'd seen, without fa...lt.Amy's features were as perfect as she could have made them, if constructing herself. I did not want to spoil this quiet time of admiring her. I leaned closer to her, to her short hair. I breathed in the lingering scent of her favorite peach scented shampoo. I loved the way Amy treated herself.It was comforting to know she felt good about. " Transmitting," Jefferson said.Atop Hill 474, 1600 meters to the west of the WestHem marine's westernmost troops, Corporal Brogan Goodbud lay nestled between two large boulders, looking through specially engineered combat goggles at the head of one of the WestHem marines. The magnification was so great he could make out the serial number atop the marine's visor, could tell what color eyes his target had. Goodbud held in his highly trained hands an M-64 sniper rifle, a weapon engineered and. More

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