It's clear that Shooters has been well-researched and thougthtfully considered by its creators. A lot of the military jargon and detailed minutiae about weapons and procedure that you'll find in a COD or BF game shows up here, but it feels more real by virtue of being paired up with a down-to-earth, hurry-up-and-wait take on military service. A real sense of camaraderie and loss gets generated by the writers' naturalistic dialogue and Lieber's art brings out a believable gamut of complicated emotions to the characters' faces. Even the agents of the opposing force get spared easy demonization as Lieber renders them with the fear and horror they too feel in the heat of combat.
One thing that Shooters does that war video games rarely do is lay out the belligerent tension between enlisted men and private military operators. Even though they share the same combat spaces and purposes, there's a mix of envy, machismo and distrust that can crop up, too. When his attempts at transitioning back to civilian normalcy fail, Terry finds himself drawn into the employ of a fictional private military organization. Once there, he finds himself on the flip side of the sneering dismissal that he once held for soldiers-for-hire.
The writing doesn't shy away from exploring the adrenaline rush that active-duty soldiers can experience. Surviving a military engagement and taking out those who want to kill you provides a resonant thrill. Video games get that part of a soldier's life right. But the developers making the war games of today could stand to learn a few lessons from the way that Shooters displays heartache, bureaucratic dysfunction and psychological repercussions that coincide with the thrill of shooting.