The Dropship hovered a few meters away from the transport vehicle. A man jumped out and guided the Dropship over the vehicle, engaged the clamps at the back, and pulled the vehicle, and bomb off the ground. The man then gave Collins a piece of paper, jumped back in the ship, and flew away without a word.
Collins read over the paper. Then read it again carefully. He never seemed to get GOOD news on paper, if it was on paper, it was probably something no one would like.
"Right"
"The enemy has captured the black box from one of the downed Dropships" Collins said in a 'here we go again' tone.
"Their in a small city about one kilometer east of here"
"Command would have someone else make the takedown, but we're closest, we're the most elite, and its technically our job, plus, they say we can go home when we're done. They won't admit this mission is a disaster, but they will let us go home. Two Dropships will be here in a half hour to pick us up."
The Marines unpacked decks of cards, rations, anything to pass the time.
"How much you wanna bet we lose more than 5 people when this is over?" Zach asked McMahon.
"Simply putt, I don't. I don't wanna encourage fate"
"Yeah, good point" Zach admits.
What to do for half an hour wondered Kidd. He took off his helmet and checked the Aces he had stuck behind its mesh. He took out a marker and went over the things written on his helmet and gun. Everyone writes on their helmet, he was the only one who writes on his gun. He turned the safety on and took out the magazine while writing. He was often afraid of misfiring and killing a friendly soldier. He looked at his hands. They were black with grease, mud, all kinds of dirt. He had since stopped trying to scrape the gunk out from under his nails. He wanted to wash his hands desperately. Kidd was a bit obsessive compulsive, he knew he'd be washing his hands for about 15 minutes when he got back to base. He didn't say it but he was actually horrified about the upcoming battle. He was fine in the jungles, forests, inside, on ships. Everything, but once he got into urban combat he broke down. It was like the wrench thrown in the gears for him. He was terrified he wasn't going to live once he got there. He didn't want to die in this condition. He pushed the thoughts of dying out of his mind and focused on his gear.
Emmanuel sat beside his disassembled rifle, greasing some parts and checking others.
He was second in command. He had just gone over the battle plan with Collins. Stick to the plan and don't fuck up was what he was thinking before every battle. He finished putting his rifle back together, got up and went to play cards with the other Marines.
Zach just lay on the ground thinking of ways to stay alive. He knew the plan; he knew what to do. He had been in battles like this a thousand times before. But he felt a bit uncertain about this one.
Collins stood at the edge of the field, constantly glancing back at his watch, he felt sick to his stomach. He didn't want to see anyone get killed today, he'd had enough of it. Command was going to get a very long 'bitch' letter. He looked back at his watch and noticed that his hand was shaking. He coughed a bit and grabbed his hand to stop it.
He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Collins doesn't smoke, and his men knew that. He thought about it for a second, then turned and threw the pack as far away as he could. He leaned back on a tree and slid down, taking off his helmet and pack. Another glance at his watch, the Dropships will be here in three minutes. He wanted to throw up, but he pushed the feeling to the back of his mind, slightly disgusted with himself for being so scared. He had never been so worried about a battle before, he KNEW it was because this was his first command mission.
Kidd stood up as the two Dropships spun around into the field at top speed. He put a fresh clip into his gun, put his helmet back on, bit his lip and started walking towards them with the rest of the marines.