Chapter 5: Drunk Assault
Me and a drunk. This will be an interesting attack. A quiet whir and a distinct beep, those sentries are a pain to destroy. I guess that's why the Engies use them instead of being a front line fighter.
"Dat sentry gon' be a problem for us," slurs my Demoman companion. He's right though, looks like that one eye still has some use. He must know it's tactically placed, though in his drunken stupor he'd just say it's trouble. I just nod and stick my head around the corner. Beep beep, okay will its there, hard to hit but if this drunk knows enough to use his grenade launcher, he should hit it a couple times.
I give him a sign I hope he can understand, which I assume he does because he gets far enough out to just barely see the sentry and angle that explosive tosser just right.
"Sentry down!" calls out the enemy Engineer as the beeping man-killer crumbles.
"Go, go, go!" the Demoman runs out with his pipe bomb launcher planting explosives as he goes. I go against his direction hoping to catch the enemy off-guard from behind. Setting the enemy on fire is just beautiful, flames scorching their mostly untanned skin. I reach the enemy and call out as well as I can to my team to begin an attack. I think someone heard me because moments later I see them all pushing forward as I start burning the enemy. All I can think now is "burn burn burn."
They begin dropping like flies. One after the other, mercenaries fall to their momentary death. With this push we can take the points with no problem, the drunkard can camp their small spawn exit for a while. We make our way through the building and desert-like surroundings to the last point. Nothing stands in our way of victory.
The team makes a quick capture and with few losses overall in this mission. Either our adversaries were of low intelligence, or we are getting quite better at doing our job. Doesn't matter, we won, they lost, and we get a nice payday bonus. It's not often we get a chance to leave the battlefield, but when we do, we all go see whoever still remembers us, and find time to spend what we've earned. Even if its on something we won't really be able to bring as a memento of the world outside. When the time comes for our short break, I'm going to find a new hat that can fit atop this fire retardant suit and gas mask. Something that will stick well.
Since we finished this mission we are to go back to the barracks to have some free time. The next mission isn't until two days from now. We are told it will be an explosive experience. I assume we are to push that little cart with the large bomb on it again.
While I walk around the "accommodations" the higher-ups so generously had paid to put together. It's almost depressing seeing these bunkers, so ill lit. Just barely enough space for everyone to have their own personal space. Hardened men, made as such through so many battles, too bad few shower, and those that do just rinse... I'm ever thankful for my gas mask.
A few of the team moves to a corner to light up their cigarettes, they have a small conversation. I could walk over and listen, but then again, I won't be able to talk. This mask defeats my ability to, but there is no way I'm removing it, not even to talk to my comrades in battle. I've come up with a series of hand signals and gestures easy to understand, my team knows me well enough to know when I need something, and when I'm giving warning.
I walk over to the Engineer, he has his acoustic guitar out for once. He's tuning it, twisting the nob back and forth, searching for that pitch center. It's not often we hear his guitar, and few hear his singing. He starts playing a folksy sounding tune. The Soldier walks over with a chair and sits on it backwards. No singing just a tune, it catches everyone's attention though, they all stop what they're doing. For once it almost feels like we're a big cross-countries family. It's the last bit of sanity that seems to linger in this world of ours, this endless and senseless war.
The Medic walks away into the medical wing. He never seems to want to stay long enough for the more interesting stories the team has. Paperwork, I guess, keeps him busy, we just have to submit a short report on ammunition used.
One day this thing will end, we'll have time to go back to our lives. Then again, what do I have now? With this flame retardant suit and gas mask that has become more than just a uniform, it's a mental support.
A/N: So I actually moved this into the behind-the-scenes world of TF2. Anyone think I did good?
Anyways, I hope those following are enjoying what I've been writing. I may start working on a new story soon.
Love for all