The goddamn sand, it never seemed to stop blowing. He could feel it whip across his bare skin, after all these months here, he thought his skin would toughen, that he'd stop feeling the sand sting against his bare skin. But the feeling only ever seemed to worsen, it felt like it was ripping his skin from his body, peeling off every inch from the muscle below it, he shouldn't complain though, he was lucky. The civilians, all they had was thin pieces of clothing protecting them from the harshest sandstorms to ever hit Dubai, to ever hit the world.
After the sandstorms ravaged Dubai, he volunteered him and his entire battalion to help in any way him and the Damned 33rd could. When he arrived, everything was in chaos, Dubai's wealthiest and most influential fled the city in secret, those damn cowards, leaving an entire city full of helpless innocents to fend for themselves. After weeks of a fruitless effort, they were ordered to leave the city immediately, Konrad dismissed the orders, forcing him and his entire battalion to be branded with treason and deserters.
The storms never let up, they only got worse, every couple days, a ravaging sandstorm would blow through, tearing up everything in it's path, every time the storm would pass, more dead would turn up. They had so way to bury them, they tried digging in the sand for graves, but the holes would always fill back up, or the wind would blow the sand off of the bodies. They had given up trying to do anything respectable, instead opting for mass graves, or piling up the bodies to burn. A storm wall engulfed Dubai, cutting off any further contact with the outside world, except for the strongest signals, but even then that was spotty. The civilians were getting restless, starting riots over the 80mph winds and dwindling resources, they did the only thing they could... they declared marshal law. This was no way to live, Konrad ordered a mass evacuation to attempt to escape the city, and that's how here, leading a caravan of soldiers and civilians alike to try to escape this hell of a city.
Every couple of minutes, he'd get word of soldiers and civilians alike dying, from dehydration or heat stroke. They were losing people, but that didn't matter, as long as a majority made it, this evacuation would be a success.
"Colonel! Were half-way to city limits of Dubai," A solider yelled through the howling winds
"Good...good. Major, tell your men of the progress and have them spread the word"
"Understood Colonel," He did a quick salute while jogging to alert the others.
Konrad sighed, they'd been walking for over an hour without stop and most people have barely had anything to eat or drink due to rationing. Soon enough, they'd be able to call for an extraction out of this godforsaken city. He gave a small smile at thinking about leaving this place, returning to his home and family. That small was wiped off his face as quick as it appeared.
"Fucking shit! A massive sandstorm is coming this way, jesus we are so fucked!" A soldier yelled somewhere behind him.
'Get a hold of yourself soldier, we've survived this long, a mere sandstorm is not going to be the end of us, do I make my self clear!" Konrad barked in the face of the solider. The soldier didn't seem to hear him, or didn't care. He was mumbling to every god imaginable to get him out of here alive. The major dashed up next to Konrad.
"Sir, the storm is coming too fast, there's no way we'd be able to make it to the city limits before the storm rips us to shreds."
Konrad said nothing, mulling over his options, hoping there was at least a miniscule chance that this evacuation could still be salvaged. They're stuck out in the open on an abandoned highway, cars littering the street, all trying to escape the sand storms, most people trying to escape never made it out of the city. Dying helplessly in their cars as they tried to escape. Going forward was not an option, they'd die before they even made it most the way to limits. To the sides were barren wasteland, at one point maybe a small market, or something of the sorts, but that was destroyed in the sandstorms, now all that remained was a barren wasteland and bones of those unfortunate enough to be caught out in the storm. The only way was back to city, buried alive under wave upon wave of sandstorms.
"Major, we'll retreat back into the city. I want us to take shelter in the first available building there is, understood?" He groaned, there was going to be hell to pay for this. All these resources and lives lost on a failed evacuation attempt, only hell would follow this.
"Understood sir," The Major sighed. He began heading back before stopping. "Colonel, with all due respect, this has gone to shit. What are we going to due now?"
The colonel didn't respond, instead heading walking back towards the city while the major told of the new orders.
The trek back was silent, no one dared speak a word until fate had decided what to do with the poor souls. The sandstorm was closing in fast, but they were quickly approaching a rundown building, it should be enough to hold them till the storm blows over.
"Everyone double time it in to the building, we barely have a couple minutes until that storm hits," Konrad yelled over the growing sound of the storm. He vaguely heard the his orders being translated into Farsi, but paid no mind to it. He looked to the building directly ahead of his, his men were already kicking down the doors to the building. Konrad entered the building, looking around, it appeared to have been some offices, but that didn't matter, as long as it held against the storm, it'd do just fine.
A Lieutenant jogged up next to him, as a swarm of civilians rushed in. "Sir" he gasped for air, "the storm is seconds away, but there's still civilians out there."
"Close the doors immediately and barricade them with whatever you have," He said without a moments hesitation.
"But sir the-"
"You will do as I say, those people will not jeopardize the safety of the rest of us. You will close those doors now and you will barricade them as best as you can, am I clear lieutenant?" Konrad emphasized his ranking, as if to remind of him that he had no choice is this matter.
The lieutenant hesitated a moment before mumbling a "Crystal sir" and heading off to the rest of the soldiers to barricade the doors.
"I didn't have a choice, I have to protect these people at all costs, even if it means sacrificing a a few save a majority," Konrad keep repeating this in his head as the screams of people being left outside echoed throughout the room. Every pound of a fist from the outside, every cry of a woman or child as their lungs were filled with sand and the storm flayed there skins resonated throughout the room. When the storm was done, most of the bodies would be gone, buried under the sand to be forgotten, to never be seen. A man ran towards the door, only to be roughly shoved back by one of the soldiers.
"My family is still out there! You have to open the doors, please they can't die out there. I have children out there!" The man screamed and begged for the doors to be opened. Konrad regarded him with cold eyes.
"Those doors will not open until the storm is passed, Even if we did, and your family wasn't dead the amount of sand they've inhaled would be sure to kill them if there wounds don't." Konrad stated coldly.
The man stayed on the ground sobbing before throwing a wild punch at on of the soldiers and attempting to rip away the barricade. A soldier attempted to grab him but the man hit him across the face with a plank of wood pulled for the barricade. He continued to beat the soldiers head to a pulp, warm blood gushing down his face and onto the floor.
"Please stop! Oh god please stop!" The soldier pleaded between hits. A shot reverberated off the wall as man was shot multiple times. Blood and brain matter splattering onto the window behind him as he fell backwards, crashing into the makeshift barricade. The soldier continued to cry ad blood and tears poured down his face. A soldier quickly keeled next him and held his head in his arms.
"Fucking christ Jackson! What the hell are you people waiting for, wheres the medic?" He screamed
A medic crouched next to him and put a hand on his shoulder "Damien, there's nothing we can do, his injuries are too far beyond what medical supplies we have. We can't do anything for him."
Damien tried to form words, but nothing came out, he let out and yell and walked over to the bullet riddled body of the man who beat Jackson. He paced around the body before giving it a few hard kicks.
"Hey, don't desecrate his body you animal!" Someone called out from the crowd of bystanders.
"You shut your mouth!" Damien yelled back before asking the medic what they could do for Jackson.
"We can't do anything, like I said we don't have the medical equipment for this. We can either give him what little morphine we have or we can..." the medic thought about his next words "um.. .give him some mercy.."
"End his life? Put him down like a dog?!" Damien gave another rough kick to the body, "no no no, were going with the morphine."
"No, were not using the morphine on a lost cause," Konrad finally spoke up.
"A lost cause colonel? A lost fucking cause!" Damien gave a hollow laugh, "This is one of our own men were talking about here!"
"I understand that soldier, but the morphine needs to be conserved for a life we might be able to save, we don't have enough to be using for a dying man.. We'll put him down, that's an order"
"Oh I get it, in case one of these savages is injured then it'd be okay to use some morphine, because were supposed to be the relief, the good guys. If one of our guys is injured though, we don't get relief we get put down, like an animal, Real fucking great!" Damien continued his thoughts, not caring what he said.
Konrad pulled out his pistol and shot the dying man on the ground once in the head. Konrad had to keep order, he had to show that he was the man in power here. If order was lost, then so was Dubai and it's inhabitants.
"You listen to me soldiers, if I give a goddamn order, you will follow that order. I am trying to keep order here, I am trying to last as long as possible until help comes!" Konrad screamed in his face. Damien was too stunned by what just happened. He shot his own soldier, killed one of his own!
"Help colonel? Order colonel? We lost all fucking order, this entire city is in chaos and you still think help is coming? Were dead men, there not coming to save us! Were traitors, we committed treason, were a group of exiles that America wants to disown! We are fucked colonel! Dubai is our grave site!" Damien yelled. He walked off, not caring where he went, as long as it wasn't here. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. No one spoke, the screams had stopped, now the only sound was the howl of the wind.
"Someone bring me a radio, now!" Konrad shouted. A man brought over a high powered radio and put it down next to the colonel.
"The radio's almost dead and we have no way to recharge it, so your message will have to be quick. When the storms over, me and a couple other should be able to build a simple broadcasting tower to get your message out."
Konrad nodded before rising the microphone to speak through it. "This is Colonel John Konrad, United States Army. Attempted evacuation of Dubai ended in complete failure. Death toll: too many."
A/N: Wow it's been forever since I've actually uploaded anything. My other story is on indefinite hiatus, I've lost inspiration and the urge to write for that for now. However, I'll try to return to it as soon as I can. Anyway back to the story at hand. I was replaying Spec Ops" The Line (fantastic game) and I got the urge to write about what transpired before Walker and his men entered Dubai. Focusing a lot on Konrad and how he handles the ultimately tough and brutal decisions he is forced to make and I'll probably through in some other POV's also, such as some of the Damned 33rd or the CIA. I'm excited to be writing this and hope it goes well. Any criticism would be welcomed, as long as it's not just "Story sucks monkey ass". So leave a review...or not, that's cool too...