How our lives organized in this persecuting chopper? Rakesh, he stood as a recruit, arrived from Britain, fighting as a freedom fighter. Sam, he critically remains a citizen of the Hillside, but serving for the army. Myself, Elias Walker, serving for my country. "A man who loves his country does not only give his own life, he gives his sons'." But now, beholding in front of us remains a dimly lit future, glaring at our exam for wherever we arrive at. We fought over our lives, but we have never completed anything: Elias
"Team Bravo, clear flares for landing."
Our chopper departed from US, to the middle of Atlantic Ocean. It stood as a hazy moment, as the sun commenced to settle behind the horizon. Others were in front of our schedule, inspecting our defenses. "Time's up, guys. Let's make this hellhole a better defensive system", Rorke commanded. He was our operation leader, or the Squad Brigadier.
"Copy that, sir. Checking east barriers."
Siris hopped out of the chopper without notification, and had unsettled me in numerous ways. It disturbed me the fact that Siris appeared impatient. He existed as a persistent man, enduring for orders, and creating perfection. "Siris, where do you think you're going?" Rorke shrieked, serving maps to us.
"I'm leaving", he responded with a silent feature on his face with an anxious look and quite… impatient.
"What is wrong with him?" Rakesh screeched at the back.
"I don't want to guess, but he is a dynamic man."
He stood as a misleading man, varying dramatically during his periods.
The town remained quite immense, as it stood as a consistent city. A palace indicated on the atlas, at the center, amongst an evacuated building and with the hospital beside it. "That hospital there is where the occupants live. They did not have time to evacuate, so we need to block the attacks", Rorke announced. I acknowledge that I am ignorant of the importance of this situation, but it truly may be our last hours. "Salvation is our keyword, so keep it in mind!"
Taking my unsure armament, regardless of its source, I shoved a magazine into the clip, and pulled the iron. It flinched as my assault rifle, took its sound, reacting with a firm recoil. "Really, Elias? Is this true, that you don't even know how to reload a weapon?!" Rorke commented.
"Jesus, I have never used an AR! I have only worn submachine guns!"
I left with a shook on my head, and worked toward the town, checking for our likenesses of victory.
The town is mostly keyed by the palace and the hospital. I stood agonized by the pain on my right shoulder as I removed rocks, blocking streets since of the vehicles as such. My weapon sprung against my shoulder, creating a small crack sound. "Ah! Fu-u-u!"
"What's wrong?! You okay, mate?" Rakesh relocated toward me. "Oh no…" he silenced.
"What is it?" I inquired, anxiously.
"Have you ever been shot here?"
"Yeah… Like twenty-one times", I replied.
"I think we have a huge issue right now… Medic!"
I remained disoriented as few medics took me toward a camp, just beside the Palace. This is consequence of my last act.
I situated to be taken by few men, steadily to a tent, only realizing that I was dripping blood. And suddenly, the pain hit me. I stood in agony as I was put onto a bed, my face covered behind sheets. They removed a layer of my skin out from my shoulder, and in disgust, I felt a purging urge coming out of my stomach. I held it back, and steadied myself.
"You okay, Elias?" Siris sat next to me.
"What did they take out from my shoulder?"
"Nothing, just… debris", he answered.
"Tell me more about your friend — about Hale", I asked him shivering with the pain. I felt his face twitch, and his limb stretch. It is an unrelated question, although he had discussed about him, and acquired information about him.
"He is a member of the royal family."
"What royal family?" I reacted.
"He is a part of the royal family, and I somehow contacted him as he was moving."
"Okay… Basically he is your friend." I did not recognize his personal life, but requesting about it may just depress him. I handled a dizzy urge, and collapsed to the bed. Blood loss? Closing my eyes, I felt a sharp pain, striking just in my shoulder, bouncing upside down.
"What!" I screamed. I perceived an image of a medic, stitching my shoulder up.
"Calm down, Elias. Just some medication", the medic replied with a sudden grin. I chuckled back at him.
As I specified, this game remained about endurance, survival, and destruction.
I rose out of the bed afterward of the stitching. He had completed decent work. I shook it, discovering no improvement whatsoever. One occurring grabbed my mind, and that stood as Hale. Who is he? I questioned such matter, but no avail, I am done with it. Gradually pacing up with my haste, this convenient defense existed not to hold much force. The town's defense mainly prepared of wooden barriers and sandbags. Sandbags built on top of each other. They could hold fewer rounds than expected, but eventually breakup. This stood as a peace before storm.
"Gather up, guys!" Rorke yelled, congregating all of us, including several other squads. "NAME!" Rorke bawled for the first soldier standing beside us.
"Name's Noah, Tier One Soldier, Bravo Squad, and Codename: ARX-160; 'Bloodlust'!" he cried out, presenting insignificant fear.
Next he arrived at my stop, and pitched me with his weapon. "Really, Rorke?" I sarcastically responded. "Copy that, Elias", he shoved me an appearance of concern, and stimulated to the next one. "Name!?"
"Dude, I am at the same squad as you, Rorke!" Jackson hit him with an annoyance. "Name!"
"Jackson, Tier One, Alpha Squad, and Codename: MK-16; 'Machine-Gunner'!"
I could sense the pressure he had been given, but this remains as war, and no one could endure without a force of any kind. "Gentlemen!" Rorke shout at us with an inconsistent expression. "Our mission is to protect the civils inside this hospital, and if we fail it, our dignity will be burned!"
"YES SIR!" we responded with a rapid shock. Not much is left of us, as we will die one by one till we run out of bodies.
Sun has established behind the horizon, and the sky darkened. We would ultimately fall insensible. This was Day Zero, and addition to that, I could envision misery approaching toward us, and hiding behind a corner, awaiting us to discover its presence. "Elias, let's get to a nearby camp. We have job to do, so we better get some rest!" Siris yelped.
"Ok, move out. Actually, no. Let's move inside the hospital, and we'll defend it inside, so they cannot surprise us."
"Suppose so, although we already have few men inside it. Let's move the whole squad."
Eventually the sun had vanished with its rays, and thus we were privileging the building's second floor, inspecting outside. Our whole squad relocated, and we found our presence in the interior of the hospital, occupying an area.
There were three floors, marked with their coordination maps. We occupying the second floor, and our night watch stood as Simon. "Ok, I'll take the sniper rifle, you guys go to sleep", Simon adjusted the sight of the rifle.
I dragged my bed sheet above my unmarked torso, slightly creeping over my neck. Comfortable? Certainly not, as the ecological issues — it created a dehydrated environment.
It lay over my head — the air. It provided me the intelligence of terror, and the alarming decease of us. Our lives had been broken and shattered, shooting past our head. What is this significance? What happened to our thoughts? What is our purpose?
We had no time to request such interrogations, as our time stood consecutively disappearing out. I placed my head low to the concrete ground, and locked my eyes.
"Hey, wake up!" Simon whispered at me with anxiety.
"What? It's not at the day yet…" I comprehended the reality, as something stood ongoing. "Ok, what?"
"Rorke wants to see us."
If it was Rorke, it demonstrated frustration. He is a tight man.
We strolled out and away from a door, ambling toward a parallel wall in the corridor. Assuredly, we turned right, straight into a room with lighting. Rorke stood at the desk, patiently and tolerantly, followed by Rakesh and Siris.
"You arrived… finally", Rorke conquered my mind with his words.
"Rorke, the hell is going on?!" I enquired, demanding for explanation.
"Elias, calm down. We are planning our defense, that's all."
"So?"
"Come here, we'll need to discuss about the marksmen. Our troops are forming a circle around this palace, and protecting the hospital. Our marksmen will take their position at the north, covering the passage to here. On the mountains, we have several Fire-team squads, watching the position. If we recognize any authorized threat, we'll hide inside these buildings, and flank them from behind while enemies are searching."
"Sounds like a plan", Simon replied.
I glanced at Rakesh, who had worn an army cap on his head. The time is indistinct, enduring, and anxious. There were clusters of decease in this gap of period, and where we fell in. Rorke, Simon, and Siris dismissed the room, leaving me and Rakesh behind. Air remained motionless, and our minds were perplexed. "Rakesh…" I muttered.
"Yeah?"
"Who are you…?"
"Codename: PDR-C; 'Liberty'."
"No… Where are you from?"
"I-"
"Don't lie", I concerned about him. He situated as an astonishing man…
"I'm from England", his voice toned like a tune. "... I became a freedom fighter, and joined this group…"
I alleged his every move; even unnoticeable elements were now unblemished. "I lost almost everything… But I kept going." The air attracted my notion, and his words were vibrant. Something crystal like dropped from his eye.
"Really, Rakesh? You're twenty-one, and what are you doing here, crying? Stop weeping and deal with what is in front of you."
"Screw you, Asshole." I was getting hatred?
"Really-y? Get your ass back to the point before I rip it off! Go!"
He ran off into the distinct corridor. The room stayed mute — so still that my auricle pains. As I announced, we were at the second floor. This all remained as a simplified masquerade, from which we hide ourselves from, sheathing behind it.
I slipped back to our room. They said that peace was a submission, but that saying was a lie. I crossed the corridor, back to my chamber. Everyone slept together in a large, squared room. I positioned down to my own bed, lying comfortably on my left shoulder.
As my mind leisurely stole off, I perhaps distinguished far more destined futures. Tomorrow is the hell, and sure… Why not…? What usually acts is our mates go down one by one, me standing and viewing the flames exhale to a supreme phase. I personally find difficulties to sleep during the finest hours. It is the commencement of the war, and I casually develop agitated emotions throughout these periods.
I pledged to my unconsciousness, noting myself in a cold war, fighting against other individuals. "Every man for himself!" I heard my officer scream behind the scenes of a gunshot. Therefore, stood in front of me were several men, holding their rifles, and screaming toward me. They came closer, and I recognized them: Siris, Ajax, and others… They held their barrel at my direction, muttering against my ears. "Guys, it's me, Elias!" I replied, not sharp about the consequence. "See you later, federation asshole!" They aimed at the point of my head as I scavenged for cover. I found nothing around me, as it remained pitch-black. Just white all around this room of infinity.
"Guys, no!" I resisted hard, as a usual human being would.
They shot, the bullet penetrating my stomach.
I awakened up sweating all over myself, noting the dawn of the sunlight. "Day One", I mumbled to myself, astounded by the environment.
Desert Eagle:
A modern handgun, manufactured similarly to US designs, but originated in Israel. High standard issued handgun, with a power of breaking few unexpected bones with its Stopping Power. Its high-power action comes from the .50 Action Express cartridges, and resembles high recoil power. It would effortlessly corrupt your bones if not held in the right position. (This certainly is not a toy you'd want in your hand, but in which cases it will end up there somehow.) In-depth, it is an accurate piece of armament, and with its high-power, comes with high responsibility.