He was back in it again...back in the war. It wasn't Iraq though, not the Middle East. It was rainy, damp, more like Europe or some parts of the US. Booth didn't have time to look and think though, he only had time to shoot. He was wearing protection, though he didn't know where it had come from, and he had a rifle. He fired, as fast as he could, his gaze flicking around as he searched out a place and then dove for cover. He fell back fairly easily into Ranger mode, but his heart was still hammering in his chest, his brain still screaming at him to wake up, that this had to be a dream.
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