To clear up the confusion someone sent me a PM about: Chris, Velvet, Grace, and Dallas are wearing American Paratrooper Uniforms and gear since they jumped from a plane to get into Vacuo.
The cold morning air gave way to a warmer yet slightly frigid midday as the roar of the tank's engine echoed through the vast flatland of tall grass and farming field. The road the tank traveled on went from concrete to mud after a few miles of driving away from the bridge and deeper into Vacuo. Chris and his comrades were sitting at their stations inside the tank while Ruby and the others sat atop the tank in various positions that didn't block the guns or got in the way of Chris's driving view. Chris drove with his head sticking out of the hatch above the driver's seat so he could see better and breathe better than inside of the tank. Dallas also sat with the hatch above his gunner position next to the driver's seat open and his head sticking out the top. Velvet and Grace stood out of the main hatch atop the tank due to them both being skinny and small enough to stand beside one another. Everyone every now and then would cautiously glance over to Chris, who seemed to ignore their glances and glare ahead at the road before him. Even though Chris was still in a state of anger, he agreed to give Ruby and her friends a ride to the nearest town before they continued on their mission to locate the targets. Ruby watched as the fields upon fields of tall grass slowly swayed in the wind before she glanced another direction to a field of flowers and trees. Even though the sun seemed to cast a happy light over the tank and its crew, no one smiled or gave even the slightest grin.
"The town's coming up on our left," Chris said over the engine, everyone surprised that he spoke for a moment before looking to the left to see the town he was speaking of.
It looked to be a small farming village that looked to be celebrating some sort of festival. Chris drove to a small crossroads a few yards from the village and made the turn towards the village. People in the village could hear the tank's engine and all shifted their focuses from the festival they were celebrating to the approaching war machine. Some looked at it as if they'd never seen such a large armored vehicle while the others looked at it with faces of worry. If a tank was coming into their village, that might mean that the war had reached further into their land and would soon take place in their homes. When the tank was in the city limits Chris began looking for a place to both park and hide the tank from the civilians. He found his location when he spotted an abandoned farmhouse near the outer limits of the village. He quickly turned the tank and drove through the open doors of the barn, stopping in the center inside of the barn before cutting the engine off. Everyone began getting out of the tank as Chris worked on shutting the doors to the barn when they left. But when everyone was outside and Chris shut the final door, they noticed he was carrying his Thompson and had all his gear on.
"Alright, fan out and do a full search of this village. I don't want White Fang surprising us while we're here," Chris said, his Thompson held tightly in his hands, as he had already started towards one of the first homes he'd be searching. Dallas shook his head as he began putting on his gear to do the door-to-door searching while Grace looked around in the inside of the tank for a spare weapon.
"Here," Dallas said, Grace turning to see him holding a M1897 shotgun for her.
"Thanks," Grace said as she accepted the shotgun along with a belt he found for her to carry the shells for the gun. But as the two began to walk, they watched as Chris knocked on the door of the first house he was about to search before he kicked in the door with his boot.
"I've never seen anyone's personality do a complete turn around in a few short hours, even after learning of someone's death," Grace said as she and Dallas watched the house Chris was searching for a few moments before he emerged with an angry woman yelling and cursing him out for kicking down her door.
"But his sister was the only family he had left," Dallas said as Chris went on to the next house to continue his search, Velvet just now catching up to Dallas and Grace. Velvet was now armed with a M1 Carbine that Chris made sure the Vale Militia gave her before they made the jump into Vacuo.
"Ruby and the others said they'd meet us in the center of town tonight to celebrate the festival with the villagers," Velvet said, the sight of both Maverick and Ryan making their ways towards the three caught her eye.
"Has he always been like this? Kicking in doors and looking for a reason to kill someone," Ryan asked as he turned to the sound of Chris kicking in another door to a home after they wouldn't let him in after knocking.
"No, but I knew this had to be coming sooner or later. He and I went through some serious shit a month or so ago in a city on the borders of Vale. Six months straight of wondering if a mortar strike from the enemy would hit us or White Fang would come charging out of nowhere. That last week, we were basically saying 'Fuck it, we have nothing to lose anymore'. So we grabbed every man that could move and fight and threw ourselves at them," Dallas replied as he watched Chris come walking out of a home with a man being forced forward by the barrel of his Thompson.
"This guy said two of the six responsible for the attack on Vale and Beacon are coming here tonight as a rest stop. I'm taking him back to the barn for interrogation. Ryan, feel free to help if you'd want while the rest of you can relax," Chris said as Ryan followed him and the prisoner back to the barn, everyone else looking at one another for a moment before heading towards the various shops and stands in the center of town set up for the festival.
"Any ideas?" Chris asked as he continued to push the prisoner towards the barn, Ryan thinking for a moment before an idea came to mind.
"Ever heard of waterboarding?" Ryan asked, the two men looking at one another before looking back towards the now terrified prisoner.