Piemasher 86: This is my first fic so, flame me and I shall mercilessly destroy you. Second of all I have to do the disclaimer. I don't own Command and Conquer

Generals Zero Hour, and if you think that is even possible you are extremely stupid beyond belief.

The Typical GLA Day

The radio blared inside a pair of technicals as they raced across the dusty make-shift desert road. A little earlier, a recon squad of patrolling rocket buggies had

seen what apparently looked like a start of an American base. They had not returned. The other driver could hear the fear in his counterpart's voice through his thick

Arabian accent. "What do you think happened to them. I mean the patrols." The other driver said. "I already told you, I do not know" he said. With that the man

turned off the radio, and with one smooth motion he opened the glove compartment and removed a bottle of vodka. The GLA had managed to smuggle some in from

Russia to the north of Kazakastan. Luckily for him he thought, while smiling to himself, he managed to smuggle some for himself. He closed his eyes, to prevent the

fumes from irritating them, and threw a large quantity to the back of his throat, and swallowed. He winced once or twice as the liquid stung his neck while going down,

but, he thought to himself, it was worth it. In his drunken state, he did not realize what fate had befallen his fellow technical. A large crusader tank had struck two hits

already. He managed to concentrate enough to stop and start attacking. In addition he let out the five RPG troopers he had sitting behind them. They had just received

amour-piercing rockets from the black market at base. This coupled with the fact that they were from Doctor Thrax's barracks and there was small amounts of anthrax

gamma in the rockets should defeat the crusader easily. He looked over just in time to see the toxin rebels franticly leap out of the other technical just before it

exploded. The technical flew up and in mid-air and burst in a shower of flames over all their heads. He heard the man yelp franticly to try to stay alive. The blackened

chassis of the vehicle landed on the crusader doing minimal damage to it but still a helpful quantity. The toxin rebels started firing at the crusader with the steady,

glowing, stream of toxins trademarked to Dr. Thrax. The crusader started to start smoking. This was a sure sign that any second now they would be victorious. After

these brief few moments of thought the technical driver flipped on the radio and called the base for back-up units. "Hold the line until help arrives. The combat cycles

are on their way". But then the crusader hatch opened and released a… well to him it looked like a mini stealth bomber (later to find out it was a hellfire drone). But the

frantic action of the crusader pilot was in vain. The RPG troopers shot it down almost instantaneously. Then they returned their attention to the crusader. They fired one

last blast and the crusader was destroyed in a firework-like explosion. The driver could see that there were several good parts left from the wreckage. So he drove

over and outfitted his vehicle with a tank cannon instead of a light machine gun. Just then a huge mass of combat cycles flew threw the air and landed in the midst of the

now veteran troops. "Good job. Now we can send the coordinates to base." said one combat cycle driver. Then the technical driver realized what the workers in base

had been working on. Silently he thought to himself " A Scud Storm".

To be continued

That's the end of the first chapter. It was kinda short. O.K. really short. It may take me awhile to update too. That's about it