Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for the disclaimer
Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for the disclaimer.
The Marines of 2nd Squad had set themselves on the right track and were thankful to be nearing their destination. The sun was setting, and they wanted to be in friendly territory before dark. They were remaining as quiet as possible. The incident with the Drones had shown them what noise could lead to: one dead Marine, one more telegram and folded flag. They continued walking through the city, its buildings remained silent, turning Old Mombassa into a dead concrete jungle. The city remained dead as the seven Marines turned the corner to see a medical tent at the end of a short street.
"We made it." Foley sighed with relief.
"Oh, thank God." Legs added as they walked toward it. They'd taken no more than four steps each when Brutal, Carson, and Valance noticed something was wrong. Even as the others talked excitedly about the fact that they'd made it, the three command responsible Marines were mentally racing to figure out what was wrong. Carson was the first to figure it out.
"There's nobody here." he said. This silenced the other conversations, and the whole squad froze in realization: they'd been so used to the silence and overall deadness of the city, they hadn't noticed that their destination was abandoned.
"Eyes open, Marines." Brutal ordered. "Let's try and find a radio or something, contact command and figure out what happened." The others took their spots in a formation, keeping all angles covered as they approached the position. As they neared, they saw several bodies of Marines in the tent, 2nd Squad conducted a short search of the nearby structures and were able to piece together what happened. But something still puzzled them…
"These bodies were put here." Copeland said. "They might've been killed here, but someone put 'em in this particular spot…almost like a CCP." he added, referring to a casualty collection point.
"Well, I doubt the Covenant would gather all the corpses unless it was to burn 'em or something, plus there are more in the other buildings." Corporal Valance said. "The Covenant would've gathered all of the bodies."
"So what do you figure happened?" Copeland asked.
"The Marines were attacked, and defended this post." Carson started. "When too many Marines died to hold the forward line, the survivors pulled back to the tent for a last stand. These bodies are the people who died in the tent's defense."
"So where are the rest?" Foley asked, his gaze was darting from shadow to shadow. The sun was almost gone, and he had the creeps.
"Maybe they got away?" Copeland asked.
"Where to, though?" Corporal Valance asked. "These guys died recently, if the others did get away, they couldn't have gotten far."
"Maybe Sarge'll figure it out when he gets that radio fixed." Foley said. "Now can we please go inside? I don't like being out here in the open, especially at night."
Sergeant Howell was inside the building directly next to the medical tent. During their search, he'd found a radio. While the rest of the squad further secured the area, he set about fixing the radio and contacting the company CP. Valdez was the only other one there with him, Brutal figured it'd be a good idea to have the corpsman nearby in case he screwed up and electrocuted himself or worse. As he was connecting some more wires, the rest of the Marines entered and informed him of their findings, as well as the fact that it would be night within five minutes.
"Well, if you're right and the others relocated, then we've got a few possible scenarios." Brutal said. "First: they managed to contact command, inform them of the attack and relocation, and we've got a new destination to reach before the end of tomorrow. Second: they couldn't contact Command, thus this will still be considered the pick-up point. We'd just have to wait for the exfil to show up, and help them find the others. If scenario two's true, we have another concern: if the Covenant are still in this area, the bird might be shot down either getting to or leaving here. When I get this radio fixed, I'll figure it out."
"How do you know how to fix that thing anyways, Sarge?" Foley asked.
"Before I made corporal and became a fire team leader, I was my platoon's RTO." Brutal replied. Foley was having trouble picturing his squad leader as a radio telephone operator. His doubts were washed away when the radio burst forth a sea of static as it came online. Smiling broadly, Brutal found the right frequency and spoke into the handset.
"Golf Six Actual, this is Golf One Two, I've reached the friendly position, how copy, over?" Brutal said. There was static for a few moments.
"Solid copy, One Two, we read you loud and clear." came the reply. "I'm guessing you're aware of the position's abandonment, over?"
"Roger that, what exactly happened, over?"
"A few minutes after we informed the position to expect you, we got a transmission from them. They were attacked and displacing. The survivors are now in a hotel not far from your position, it's in Sector 14 of New Mombassa. They said they were leaving you a radio, I'm guessing you found it, over."
"Affirmative, Six. So, I have to get to Section 14 and the hotel there before sundown tomorrow, over?"
"That's correct, One Two. Nothing much I can say other than to move Ricky Tick ASAP, over."
"Roger Six. Over and out." Brutal replied before cutting off the radio. The Marines sat in silence for several moments as the sunlight outside finally vanished.
"So…what do we do now?" Foley asked.
"We get some sleep and move out tomorrow. I want everyone up at 0500 hours… let's try and get some sleep." Brutal replied. And so, the Marines assigned watch shifts, and those who weren't on watch found spots, plopped down and tried to catch some shut-eye.
