Author's Note: I want to give a huge thanks to Anime Borat who's been pitching great ideas to me and along with everyone who's been reading and enjoying this story, they'll be many chapter's more. Now this is a side story I cooked up to show the events around the world after the nuclear blast in France. As always, if you enjoyed it, leave a review.

Surviving Korea

November 13th, 2014

Corporal David Giles

3rd Battalion, 1st Marines

Korean – Russian Border, United Korea

0335 Hours

The first shots had come from the dead of night. Russian soldiers started to advance through the Korean borders while raining artillery down on civilians. Communications were in disarray after the Russians jammed communications through portable radio noise emitters. We were still sleeping in our bunks at a former Army base at the 38th Latitude when North Korea and South Korea were different nations. A nuclear bomb had exploded in France and disrupted the electronic equipment in a one hundred mile radius. The Russians used that moment of disbelief to invade all of Asia with China and Pakistan. Hundreds of thousands of troops were pouring into the country while only the few thousands that was the Marine and Army forces quickly turned the battle into the Alamo. The United Korean Army lost thousands of troops in the opening of the ground and air campaign. T-90MS, an upgraded version of the newly developed T-90 with an Infrared gunner and commander's camera, internal GLONASS+ GPS navigation and newly developed Relikt explosive reactive armor, and BTR-90 APCs blitzkrieged the border along with PAK FA fighters and SU-34 fighter bombers. They quickly gained air superiority from the United Korean Air Force with their last generation F-15K Slam Eagles, F-16C Fighting Falcons and F-4 Phantoms. While all that happened, I was still in the barracks with the rest of my Marine brothers. We were scrambled as soon as bombs were dropped on our base. Out of the 1,200 that were in my battalion, close to 400 were left. Riding in the LAVs with the part of my squad that survived the initial bombing with my company sergeant leading the ad-hoc team. We had members from K Company and I Company. The charge was being led by two out of four tanks, seven remaining LAVs and two AH-1Z Viper attack helicopters. In the dim red light of the LAV, I could see the faces of the Marines. Tired, scared, hurt and confused we sat in the passenger bay. The Sergeant had rounded everyone who was still able to carry a rifle and walk into one coherent squad. We lost touch with the Company commander at the opening strike, Lieutenant Able was the only one we answered to now and he was riding at the front of the convoy. We were still minutes away from any town. That could change real fast at the pace the battle was going. There was no front line in this war.

"Lion Actual, we are five minutes from Man'po. Prepare for a hot zone." The radio crackled in my ears.

"Roger that, Ghost. You heard the intel guy, fucking check your gear and ready to get busy!" Lieutenant Able yelled through the COMMs as I checked my M16A4.

"Listen up dickwads, we are going into this zone with full force. The Russians are throwing everything at us –" Sergeant Gordon yelled through the loud engine of the LAV, an explosion cutting his sentence off.

"Oh fuck, I'm hit!" Someone screamed, blood splattering onto my face.

"This is your stop!" The driver yelled as the 25mm cannon started to fire. Thump, thump, thump.

"Lower the ramp!" Sergeant Gordon screamed, the ramp still up and locked.

"I said lower the fucking ramp!" The bullets were now puncturing the skin of the LAV and killed the wounded Marine.

"The guy next to the door is dead, Sergeant!" One yelled back.

Sergeant Gordon got up from the seat next to me and leaped to the door. He smacked a button near the end of the LAV. Buzzing came from the hydraulic systems holding the ramp. Gun fire pinged off the LAV as Sergeant Gordon pulled the dead Marine deeper into the vehicle. I glanced at the outside while the ramp lowered. Red tracers crisscrossed the pitch black sky. The moon shown above the dark outlines of the mountains, making them glow ominously. The city was dark from the EMP burst the Russians deployed just moments before we arrived. A clank drew me to the lowered ramp as the Marines were sitting still in the LAV, Sergeant Gordon looked at us with a straight face.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" He asked, the gunner grunted from a bullet and fell down onto his back.

"Get the fuck out!" Sergeant Gordon yelled as a bullet wounded another Marine.

"Get out!" I screamed seeing the men stand up to disembark.

Bullets ripped through the front of the LAV and struck down two men behind me. I winced from the zip of the rounds. The first few men ran through as I followed up behind. Explosions ripped in the distance. I stepped forward in line, bullets killed one Marine in front of me. It entered through his helmet and killed him before he even hit the deck. I stepped over my comrade's body without a thought in mind, all I could think about was staying alive. The explosions got louder, they were getting closer and closer. Sergeant Gordon was next to me. Where was the Marine that was standing there? I looked back seeing shrapnel sticking out from his chest. He groaned. There was nothing we could do. We were so close to the ramp. An explosion rocked the LAV, my ears ringing. Colors flashed before my eyes. I felt something dribble down my forehead. The world felt like it was rocking below me. Something poked at my armpit. I felt my vision coming back. I looked over to the right seeing an arm of a Marine. It was dismembered at the shoulder and blood poured all around the LAV. Bits of metal cascaded above me, the driver's head poking through the hatch where the gunner stood. Blood dripped from his helmet and onto the grated floor. Wires sparked and fuel leaked into the bay. I felt someone pull me up. I looked over to Sergeant Gordon yelling something. His lips moved but no sound came out. He slapped me twice on the cheek and pushed a rifle into my chest before limping out of the LAV. I stood there in the LAV, just realizing that it was lopsided. The mortar round burying it into a crater. Sound slowly returned to me. First like a whistling of the wind then, a gunfire.

"Get the fuck out of there devil dog!" Sergeant Gordon yelled, firing into the enemies behind me.

"Yes, Sergeant." I mumbled still unsure.

I walked out slowly from the LAV. Bodies were strewn out around the crater. Mortar and artillery rounds continued to rain down on the small Marine force. Dust blew at my face, the wind hollowing as fighter jets thundered into the skies above us. I was still dazed and confused when tear drops dropped from their wings. Those weren't tear drops.

"Everyone hit the deck!" Another Marine yelled, Sergeant Gordon running over to me and slammed my face into the ground.

It was silent for a moment. Then, a loud bang exploded in front of me. Then another. A series of explosions shook the ground and threatened to rip the Earth in half. The ground rumbled as a gale buffeted my body, stripping the sweat from my skin. I slowly stood up after the bombs had stopped dropping. Pieces rained down on my body like rain from the clouds. The battlefield was obscured with clouds of dust and smoke. Some of the bombs had forsaken the men of pain, others were filled with napalm to torture them until they died. Shrill screams split the silence as Marines and Russians alike burned from poorly dropped bombs. They ran into the dust like little orbs of light. Sergeant Gordon got up and sat in a crouch. The two of us were the only survivors from the mortar and bomb attacks. Anybody else was either dead or going to be dead. It was a grim moment. I tried the radio. Static danced over the radio waves, the jammers utilizing white noise to obscure all radio frequencies except for encrypted ones. This battle had gone south so fast, we didn't even have time to react. Moaning drew me to a body only a few feet away from us in a crater. I looked to Sergeant Gordon. He gave me a nod as we moved cautiously into the fog. Laying in the crater was a Marine covered with dirt. His legs had blown off and the smell of rotten flesh filled the air. One arm laid next to his body, unattached. An M1911 was gripped in his left hand. His eyes looked at me. It was full of pain and anguish. He wanted the suffering to end. I was frozen unable to do anything. I had never seen anything like this. Sergeant Gordon inched towards the Marine and grabbed his hand. He placed the gun on the Marine's temple. The wounded Marine squeezed the trigger. Bang. Brain matter and blood exploded from his head and down onto the ground. The sound echoing in the silent mountains. I winced and closed my eyes. I didn't want to see anymore of this. I joined the Marines for a college tuition, not war.

"Rest in peace and may be embraced by our ancestors." Sergeant Gordon muttered, wrapping his hands around the dogtags hung around the Marine's neck.

"Sergeant?" He yanked the pieces of metal from the fallen's neck and stood up.

"Tell you what Giles. Let's find the Lieutenant and the rest of the team. Then, we can fuck up the Russians for killing our brothers." Sergeant Gordon said through gritted teeth.

"Yes, Sergeant." I replied back and followed Sergeant Gordon as he walked through the fog.

As far as I know, Sergeant Gordon had been in the Marines since Vietnam. At fifty two, he was nearing the end of his service. He knew how to survive and lead when the duty was thrust upon him. I trusted him with my life and would follow him into the depths of hell. Sometimes his orders were absolutely insane but, the battlefield was never a sane place to be. We walked through the fog with our rifles held at the ready. My legs throbbed with pulses of pain as the adrenaline rushed through me. The dust stung my lungs and made me cough. Gunfire had subsided and the screaming had stopped. I blinked quickly to clear the dust from my eyes and tried to stay focused. Footsteps pounded in the silence. Clicking echoed among the darkness. We walked out into the open and the dust cleared. In front of us was a cluster of houses built in the mountain side and was covered with trees. Two tanks sat there in the distance with their engines rumbling with black smoke. Muzzle flash bloomed near one of the houses not four hundred yards away. Snap. A round flew over my head.

"Find cover!" Sergeant Gordon yelled as I dived into one of the craters, bullets peppering my feet and heating up the air around me.

I looked up from the ground just to get dirt thrown into my face. Something warm started to flood into my pants. Oh god, I never thought this would happen but – I just pissed myself. I heard a pop and was quickly followed up by a bang. Someone had launched a rocket. Building up my courage, I looked up to see one of the tanks smoking with its active missile defense system protecting it. One brave motherfucker stood in the battlefield with a Javelin missile on his shoulder. He crouched down and detached the sight. This gave me the moment to run up into one of the buildings. I booked it. My legs carrying me as fast as it would allow. The piss that stained my pants turned the cloth into a freezing cold and uncomfortable hell. A house with three levels, still not destroyed was in front of me. Ordinary picket fences stood between me and the closest thing I called a secure position. I jumped over the fence, my left hand stinging as I did. Two enemy soldiers stood there about to fire on the lone Marine behind me. I lifted the M16A4 up and aimed down the holographic sight. Crack, crack, crack. The bullets instantly killed the two soldiers, one between the chest and the other received two right in the abdomen. I didn't have time to think. If I did, I would have died. Instinct and training drove me. The battle imbuing me with a sense of clarity I have never felt before. The room was dark and dreary. Stains of blood and bits of concrete dust had covered the wooden floors. Sergeant Gordon had followed my rush and was close behind.

"What the hell is that?" Sergeant Gordon said with curiosity.

It looked like a tank in the dark fitted with a rectangular box on top. The rumbling of its giant engine shook the house as the rectangular box pointed upwards into the skies. White glint shined off the individual holes in the box. That thing was rocket artillery.

"Rocket artillery!" I yelled, hearing the loud bang of the rocket motor.

Flashes lit up the night and rockets launched into the skies like firework. There wasn't one but hundreds of them firing on reinforcing United States and United Korean soldiers. Like the old missiles of world war two, the rockets descended onto the targets with a howling similar to the screeching banshees. The TOS-1M was a rocket artillery unit with a range of over six kilometers. Its missiles were thermobaric in nature similar to napalm and was designed to kill infantry and light armored vehicles. I looked to Sergeant Gordon who was grim as ever, a gurgle coming up from one of the soldiers I killed. Pulling out my M1911, I put a round into the bodies to make sure they stayed silent while the rockets finished their firing phase.

"What are we going to do, Sergeant?" I asked looking out the window, Sergeant Gordon switching magazines.

"The only thing we can do -" He stated pulling out his pistol and loading a round into the chamber before holstering it.

"...fight." Sergeant Gordon said with the single word seeming the most fitting in this situation.

"Hoorah." I whispered with a small smile.

Sometimes desperate times, call for desperate measures. I pulled out my KA-BAR knife and placed it over the barrel of he M16A4. We waited, waiting for the crew to jump and rearm the monster. Two re-supply trucks pulled up beside the rocket artillery. Men jumped off with rockets in their arms and each looked like they were carried by at least four men. Sergeant Gordon jumped over the window, his boots shattering the glass into minute pieces. The men stopped to see the both of us with our guns up as I covered Sergeant Gordon. Crack. One man slumped down into the ground, the tip of the rocket burying itself into the dirt. Crack, crack, crack. The both of us opened fire and completely killed all three of the men before they could retrieve their weapons. I could still feel the heat of the brass ejecting from my rifle in the frosty countryside. Before I could breathe, bullet zips came from the left of us. I leaned out seeing the other rocket crew holding shortened AK-74SU carbines. Gordon jumped behind the rocket artillery and pulled out a grenade. I jumped over the window and flicked the fire selector to burst.

"You have to do it now, Sergeant!" I yelled firing at the inexperienced crewmen, they were trained to be mechanics not soldiers.

"Simmer the fuck down, Giles! I'm getting to it..." Sergeant Gordon grunted back as he pulled the pin out of the grenade and dropped it down into the partially open hatch.

A muffled bang shook the TOS-1, the metal inside denting. Hydraulics and pneumatics hissed from shrapnel. The crew inside dead. I fired twice and killed one of the four re-armors. Sergeant Gordon provided extra firepower and the other three died slumped next to their trucks. The gun fire had alerted the Russians and now the battle against remaining Marines was once again in full swing.

"Giles, you remember anything from demolition training?" Sergeant Gordon asked as I nodded.

"A little bit, Sarge." I replied, Sergeant Gordon pulling the missile from the ground.

"Get all the explosives you can from the missiles and rig the others to blow." Sergeant ordered.

"Hoorah." I replied placing the rifle on the high truck and jumping inside.

The missiles trucks were filled to the brim with warheads. Air-burst munitions, ground penetration, thermobaric and all sorts of killing explosives were packed in small, open boxes. I went to one of the missiles and pulled out a multi-tool, twisting the nose off. Inside was a giant arm length cylinder filled with explosive ordinance. Gun fire started to get even more intense, the sounds moving closer. I pulled out the explosive and shoved it into my pack. I repeated this process three times before filling out the space in my backpack reserved for extra MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), ammunition and various survival tools that I thought I didn't need. Sergeant Gordon showed up with shielded electrical wire coiled around his shoulder. With all of the nose cones off the missiles, I took the cord and split it into different lengths. The wire was pushed deep inside the explosive ordnance before placing the blasting fuses to make sure the explosives ignited. A thumb sized dough of C4 would do the trick. I turned around to see Sergeant Gordon gone and my backpack filled with three protruding black plastic wrapped cylinders.

Jumping off the truck, I saw Sergeant Gordon staring at a map. He had his flashlight out. It emitted a soft red light onto the paper. I stood behind him and peered over his shoulder. The Russian map was marked with dots and crosses. One of these sights must be something significant.

"What's that Sergeant?" I asked, the older man look at me.

"Possible sites for what's blocking radio communications. We take out one of these...it might give us radio in a five klick radius." Sergeant Gordon sighed and folded the paper, extinguishing the torch.

"Pop a flare here and meet me at the house's nine, two hundred meters." Sergeant Gordon ordered as he picked up the cord and started to walk around the forest behind the houses.

I pulled out a red metal cylinder from my backpack. I pointed the cylinder into the sky and held it above my head. With a smash into the end of the cylinder, a pop could be heard as the glowing orb of orange shot into the sky. My eyes closed tightly to retain natural night vision. I quickly ran after Sergeant Gordon, taking out a magazine and smacking it against my helmet to make sure that dust wouldn't hamper the spring while chambering a new round. We walked for what seemed like minutes before Sergeant Gordon crouched down near the treeline. He pulled out a detonator as I slumped down into the dirt. It was soft and cool, the explosives weighing me down. The world started to pitch and turn below me. My face covered in sweat, blood and dirt. The skin slick and sticky with oil. I sipped from my water bladder. The cool liquid turned the sandpaper of my throat back to normal with a sting from extended dehydration. I pulled out my portable GPS. Nothing. It looked like the Russians were jamming our GPS with their GLONASS satellites orbiting low in geo-syncronuous orbit. Specks of white snow like stars filled the skies with twinkling. It was a beautiful night. I heard footsteps sloshing in the mud like ground. Shapes darted from the house. The brave Marine launching rockets was on the ground with his limbs scattered around him. Those shapes were Marines.

"Hey, you! Get the fuck back!" I yelled seeing the group of four.

"What?" He yelled back.

"Get the fuck back!" I yelled.

Before he could answer, the 12.7mm the size of the fifty caliber but heavier punched right though his body armor. He leaned forward from the vacuum created by the bullet as the man behind him was also killed from the round into the chest. Both of them died instantly. A tank was rolling towards them.

"Move you ass here now!" I ordered seeing Sergeant Gordon holding the detonator in his hands.

They did not hesitate. The two Marines booked it. Running so fast, one fell on his face as the tank punched through the house. Its armor demolishing the walls like butter. One had gotten to me but the other had just frozen. His body had shut down from sensory overload. He just froze. Sergeant Gordon squeezed the trigger. Just as the missiles ignited, a 7.62mm round had shot off from the tank's coaxial machine gun. The missiles exploded with a bright orange glow and bathed the forest trees around it in brilliant white phosphorous flames. Shrapnel ripped through the skies. Something stung my cheeks as warm liquid flowed down my neck. I touched a cut and saw blood. It wasn't a big concern. The tank was still rumbling with life as the explosion grew large into the sky, the darkness glowed for a split second before turning back into pitch black. I saw something leak from the tank and on to the ground spreading rapidly towards the fire. Two rounds exploded from the gun. The Marine was hit twice in the torso. He slumped down into the ground. The liquid flashed with orange flames, the fire following the trail of fuel. Nothing happened for a while. Bang. The turret of the T-90 exploded and fumed dark smoke. Looks like the fire had ignited the main ammunition stores of the tank. Sergeant Gordon turned to the wide-eyed Marine. His brown eyes and black buzz cut showing through his hastily worn helmet.

"What's your name, Marine." He spoke, getting up and disconnecting the line into the detonator.

"Jeff...P-Private Jeff Orlando, Sergeant." The Private stuttered from system shock and information overload.

"Where are you from?" He asked, the three of us walking towards the downed Marine.

"I'm from South Caro-" Orlando started just to be cut off.

"Company son, what Company." Sergeant Gordon stated, turning the wounded Marine over.

"I Company, Sarge." Orlando said quickly.

"Where's your Platoon Sergeant?" Sergeant Gordon asked as he closed the eyelids of the Marine and pulled out his dogtags.

"Dead." He answered, Sergeant Gordon's face still grim as ever.

"Okay then, you're with us now. I'm Staff Sergeant Gordon and that's Corporal David Giles." Sergeant Gordon spoke quickly after a brief pause.

"Hey." I said with a quick smile.

"We're from J Company. Now we're all introduced, let's keep fucking going." Sergeant Gordon grunted and started walking in the direction of the assumed jammer.

"Hey, Orlando." I said finally glad to see another Marine that's not a hardass like Sergeant Gordon.

"Y-yeah?" Orlando stuttered, it looks like he was getting the 'shakes'.

"Did you piss or shit yourself yet?" I asked walking into the forest.

"No." He replied as I chuckled, everything seemed funny when you've been up for eighteen hours straight and running without rest.

"You soon will." I smiled and gave him a small tap on the back.

The three of us continued into the forest. The deeper we got, the less light started to shine through the trees. It got to the point where I couldn't see five feet in front of me. We weren't Special Operations so we did he only thing we can do. I broke out the low-luminance glow sticks. Placing one on our helmets would make a soft neon green glow that we could see. It was visible up to one hundred feet in pitch dark and ten feet in a full moon. The gun fire came to a pause as the firefight entered a lull. We were all on the edge and Orlando was flinching at every broken branch we stepped on. I hoped the Russian Spetsnaz weren't out to play tonight or else we were all dead men. Sergeant Gordon stopped right in front of me, the three of us doing the same. He pulled the chemlight from the back of his helmet strap and stuffed it inside one of his pouches to extinguish the bright glow. I followed his lead while Orlando still had his on his head. I gave him a smack on the helmet and pointed at the chemlight. Orlando quickly grabbed the chemlight and shoved it into his pouch, light still spilling from the cloth. Looks like I'm going to have to babysit him. I pulled the light from his pouch and placed it in his pack. No light, no one's going to die. It was pitch black and we had to stick right behind Sergeant Gordon. My hand literally had to be grasped on his shoulder. Orlando did the same, except he was shaking with fear. His fear meter ticked to 8. 10 being complete loss of mind, locking up on the spot. We stepped forward. My feet right behind Sergeant Gordon's boots. Talking. I heard talking from within the woods. The closer we got, the more alien the words became. It was Russian. The words sounded like they were next to my ear. A branch cracked and the words stopped. I felt something brush up against me.

"Vladimir?" Someone spoke right next to me.

I didn't think. My arms stabbed my rifle into the left. A gurgle escaped the darkness as I thumbed the trigger. Flashes of light lit up the forest. Blonde hair and blue eyes were all that I caught with the spraying of blood. Warm liquid splattered on my face. I tripped on something and fell face first into the now dead man. The distinct crack of the M4 exploded behind me. Thump. A body landed in the darkness. Bright light made me squint my eyes. Sergeant Gordon had turned on the light duct-tapped around his rifle. I looked up and saw the open mouth of the Russian soldier. He had a night vision goggle attached to his helmet but didn't use it. My rifle's bayonet was buried in his armor and abdomen. I got up and pulled the rifle from the man's body, the blade dripping with red blood. I saw Orlando flinging his rifle around with a frightened look on his face. He was twitching madly. He needed to sleep before fatigue and shock pulls him into a deep coma.

"Sergeant, he needs to sleep." I stated with worry.

"I know." He grunted, the flashlight revealing a small radio like box hooked up to a giant satellite antenna.

Sergeant Gordon pulled out his pistol and fired two rounds into the box, effectively destroying it. The static of the radio turned into a hailstorm of confusion. Squad leaders asking for directions from Platoon Sergeants without end, Company commander asking for the battalion officer and the battalion officer asking for air support. It was a clusterfuck of massive proportions. I looked to Sergeant Gordon who squeezed the radio transmit button on his vest.

"Everyone shut the fuck up!" He yelled, the radio turning into silence.

"Lieutenant Able, report." Sergeant Gordon spoke calmly.

"The Lieutenant is dead, I repeat the Lieutenant is dead!" A soldier yelled on the radio.

"Who's in command?" Sergeant Gordon asked, sitting down on a near-by rock.

"If my memory serves correctly, Staff Sergeant Gordon from Joker Company!" The soldier once again screamed into the radio with gun fire zipping in the background.

"Crap." Sergeant Gordon growled.

"Giles, get out a flare. We're going establish a temporary command post here and rally all of the Marines here. Get that Private on perimeter until the others can relieve him." Sergeant Gordon ordered as I nodded.

"Orlando!" I yelled, the Private quickly turned his head towards me.

"Take a fucking chill pill and guard the perimeter. Don't go out too far." Private Orlando nodded and swallowed, walking deeper into the forest.

"All Marines head towards the red flare, I repeat head towards the red flare." Sergeant Gordon spoke slowly and clearly into the radio.

"Flare out." I grunted and smacked the bottom of the cylinder.

I waited next to Sergeant Gordon with Orlando a few feet away from us. His eyes were fluttering. They would close, only to open a few seconds later. His M16A4 rifle dipped into the dirt and his body was just exhausted. Minutes was spent sitting in the darkness. The flare had gone dark a few seconds before the first Marines showed up. Four men and two women marched out of the forest. Sergeant Gordon made them form a perimeter and guard the Orlando while he slept. Orlando was sleeping underneath a giant tree that seemed like it was hundreds of years old. One of the women was a medic and was helping me patch up my face. I took off the helmet and placed it next to me. Sitting on a rock, my rifle was kept ready to fire at all times. Working with a dim, red torch strapped to her head, the medic pulled out what seemed like a plastic bottle. She was a Lance Corporal, one rank lower than me, one rank higher than Orlando.

"Is that Vodka?" I asked as she poured some over a cotton ball.

"Yeah, why?" She grunted, dabbing the ball over my the wound near my hair.

"Give me some." I said and reached out to grab to bottle.

"Not so fast. You're injured, and we can't have you drunk while you're on watch." She replied with a playful smile.

"Lance, just give me the bottle. I've been up for nineteen hours and haven't had a wink of sleep. At least let me get something in my belly." I growled and snatched the bottle from her hand.

"Hey!" She snapped as I chugged down two gulps, the liquid stinging and burning down my throat.

"Give that back, it's my emergency stash." She swiped the bottle back from hand and pushed it down her vest pouch.

"For you to drink?" I asked, the burden on my shoulders starting to fade, for the time anyway.

"No. It's for the wounded, Captain Obvious." She shot back and placed a bandage over my cuts.

"Giles." Sergeant Gordon called from behind me.

"Yes, Sarge?" I asked and snapped to attention.

"I'm giving you a field promotion to Sergeant. We've only got two Non-Comms (Non-Commissioned Officers) still here and you're the person I trust most." Sergeant Gordon explained as I nodded.

"Orlando, you..." Sergeant Gordon pointed to the medic.

"...you, you and you." Sergeant Gordon pointed to one woman and two men.

"Are you Fire team Charlie under Sergeant Giles's command." He ordered as the ones chosen started to walk towards me.

"But I'm a medic!" The woman groaned.

"Male, female, animal, doctor, garbageman, I don't give a fuck. You are a Marine and a rifleman first. Now get your ass off that ground and fall in." Sergeant Gordon growled, his orders overruling everything anyone said.

"Happy now? That's what you get for talking like that to a high ranking Marine." I said with a chuckle.

"Screw you." She said with a snort.

"Now that everyone's here. I'd like to go over the plan for tomorrow." Sergeant Gordon stated and laid out a laminated map of the area.

"We have portable radio jammers throughout the area. The Russians are using this to disrupt our chain of command. We have to face the fact that there will be no reinforcements, no supplies and no support. This is the real deal people. We will need to live off the land, conserve ammo or scavenge it off of the dead soldiers. This area will be our primary HQ. We have twenty five Marines still alive with the rest MIA. I'm splitting the teams up into three. Eighteen Marines will be on the offensive. Disruption, reconnaissance, guerrilla strikes. The rest will become sentries patrolling the area in one kilometer diameter with the radios set to short wave transmissions. We start operations at dawn, understood?" Sergeant Gordon stated looking at the map.

"Hoorah." We answered back.

"Dismissed." I walked away with the team of five, Orlando happily sleeping.

"Sergeant." An eager African-American machine gunner stated walking in front of me.

"Yes?" I replied walking over to the tree Orlando slept under.

"Shouldn't we get to know each other? I mean that's all we have. Right?" He asked as I shook my head.

"Not right now. We need some sleep. I need some sleep. We'll do this shit in the morning." I growled, crouching under the small space the tree offered and got in next to Orlando.

"Nuh uh, I'm not sleeping in there with you guys." The medic stepped back only to crash into the female grenadier from her squad.

"Come on Sophie, it's going to get cold in the morning." The grenadier got inside the tree and snuggled close to Orlando, her weapon held next to his face.

"But Ash -" She started.

"No buts, get in here now sister." The grenadier ordered.

The medic grumbled and slid right next to me. The machine gunner and the rifleman leaned against the tree, their cheeks resting on their backpacks. The rifleman carried the new M27 Infantry Automatic Rifle and had propped it up next to him for easy reach. While the machine gunner had his M240G next to him while the laid out in front of my feet. I had my M16A4 propped up against the wall behind us with the other weapons. I rolled over to see the medic staring at me with green eyes and an agitated look on her face.

"Don't you even think about it." She warned in a low voice.

"I wouldn't even dream." I smiled.

"Do you even brush your teeth?" She hissed back.

"Will you two just shut up?" The three yelled, I stopped and closed my eyes to drift off into the inviting arms of sleep.