Early morning... It's hot here in Chernarussia. We lost Miles last night, and I was promoted to Master Sergeant in his place. We need to find Lopotev, ostensibly to free the Chernarussians from his insurgency, though taking him down for executing Miles would be sweet revenge.
I have to get used to being in command. It's hard... I have to remember to say things like "Follow me!" and "Move there!" at appropriate times and not just because I think it's funny. It took me forever to figure out the map and send requests to my new helicopter support. We've lost so many Hueys due to me ordering them into forests that the USMC has considered repossessing my house to help pay for them.
I thought my fortunes would turn around as we found a lead. Captain Dessler mentioned the city of Staroye, right at the border separating us from the OpFor. My new team trusted me as I ordered them into a car to drive us there. They thought I was just checking the map in the back seat and concentrating on Team Leadery stuff, but quite frankly driving on these narrow roads scares the hell out of me and I'd rather have a chauffeur.
We arrived at Staroye, and the tension was palpable. After running over a fence because Sykes wanted to make his own parking spot, we left the vehicle and proceeded on foot, not knowing what to find. The city was mostly empty; in fact, we saw no one as we searched the eastern buildings. Well, they might have been inside their houses, but we didn't have time to go knocking on doors and shit. Breaking and entering isn't the style of the Marines; that's for fantasy heroes on epic adventures in other worlds. And mothers-in-law.
As we crested the hill, we heard a sharp cry. "Americans are here!" we heard shouted across the city.
I raised my gun. I remembered my training at boot camp and the last-second refresher onboard the aircraft carrier. Sporting an accuracy just under 10%, I knew I would have trouble hitting those two-legged animals who have taken over the country. Or grass. I was especially have trouble shooting grass.
But I was going to be the hero today. As we crested the hill, I saw the man. Bald, with a camo headband, looking bruised but otherwise healthy. And in his hands was a large sniper rifle. We must have snuck up on him because he wasn't aiming at us. This gave me the perfect drop on him, a perfect tactical situation extended from God's own divine hand, clearly blessing the efforts of the United States.
I leveled my rifle at him. Channeling my few good moments of training, I squeezed off four rounds. All four struck him cleanly in the chest, easily proving I am the best marksman of the team, and that I will shine in a true combat situation. My target grunted as the first bullet ripped a hole in his lungs but he made no further noise other than the clatter of the gun and the heavy crunch of his body falling on the pavement.
I approached him and kicked his weapon away as I examined his face. A look of peace as he was in the afterlife, a familiar kind of expression and set of facial features.
And then I remembered his picture from the briefing: he's the leader of the resistance here in Staroye, and he was here to give me intel on Lopotev's location.
Some leaders would be upset, and some would turn themselves in. But I am a fantastic military leader, and I can see the silver lining. I pointed out to my team that we were getting some additional exercise as we ran away from the city under a stream of gunfire. They insisted on me getting even more exercise by jumping in the car and driving off without me. I'd call in my helicopter, but it seems the last one I called for is still on fire.
That's all right. It's a clear day for a walk back to the base. Still a bit hot, though...
