The thick snow crunches underneath your boots. You’ve been walking for close to an eternity. The wind has picked up, howling violently making it almost impossible to hear anything. Your small group of fighters travels along the canal basin. It is pitch black, and you rely solely on the moonlight to see. The cool scent of salt water is a welcome contrast to the repulsive sewer stench. You take a whiff of your clothes, the stench of sewer waste and fecal matter fill your nostrils.
“…Holy shit…" you scruff.
Since the start of the war, many of the modern luxuries you took for granted were stripped from you. Clean clothes was one of them. It was bad enough already; but now it was going to take you weeks to get rid of this stench. You look down at your leather boots. You had just recently polished them to a glimmering shine, but now they are covered in muck and grime.
"The shit we have put up with...” you whispers as you trudge through the wastes.
Mac jabs you in the shoulder. “It will all be worth it Anon. One day.” He points to the city in the distance, the fighting is still rampant. “Soon, this city will be ours once more. We’ll know peace once again.” The thought brings a warm smile to your face. It’s what you’ve all been fighting for. What you’ve sacrificed so much for.
Soon enough, a flurry of lit structures comes into view. Several power transformers and generators are surrounding the building. Power lines that lead from the structure heads towards the bridge. You use a pair of binoculars to get a better view. It seems like a half dozen men are manned at the checkpoint. They are armed with assault rifles and small arms. It definitely seems like a feasible force.
“Alright! Listen up!” Mac shouts. “I’ve contacted the other cell’s via radio. They're on the other side of the canal. They’ve already started plant C4 charges along the support beams. However! They cannot proceed any further than where they are now due to heavy enemy presence.”
He points at the spot lights that are situated on the checkpoint
“In order for this operation to be successful, we need to take out the power around here. The other cell will finish placing their charges. And only then will we have enough power to take out the bridge.”
He looks over you.
“Anonymous." he shouts, "They tell me that their C4’s are synced with your detonator.”
You give him an understanding nod.
---
You sit position behind an pile of scrap metal. Probably the remains of a downed aircraft. Your rifle sits in your hands, all at the ready. You’ve since moved up and closer to the checkpoint The enemies are in plain sight. They sit lounging around a makeshift bon fire, chatting about.
A few other men crouch by your side. You note that one of them carries an old M60 Machine Gun. He probably picked it up from one of the old armories scattered throughout the city.
You sit and wait patiently. The cold nipping away at your exposed skin.
“Any minute now. Just hold steady.” The machine gunner tells you. His voice is firm and verdant It only reassures your faith in these men and their abilities.
Adjacent to the check point stands an old building. You can just barely make out the silhouettes of the other rebels on the rooftop against the moonlight. They throw several Molotov cocktails onto the enemies below. As the bottles shatter, they engulf the soldiers in flames.
"That's the signal!" the machine gunner shouts as he starts firing rounds at the enemy.
The heavy chugging of the machine gun is deafening. Regardless, you pull up your rifle and do the same. Rebels from atop the building pick off the enemy one by one. They didn’t stand much of a chance and the skirmish ceases as soon as it began. Once the coast it clear, you move into to get a better view of your ‘work’ Their bodies lay in a pool of their own blood. It gave you an immense sense of satisfaction. The team rummages throughout the checkpoint. Grabbing whatever they could find. They find a plethora of explosives, weapons and supplies. They all hand you whatever explosive they can, and you stuff them into your satchel.
You turn your attention to the power generator that sits in the middle of the checkpoint. It hums quietly with electricity. “Anon, take care of it!” With a quick nod; you move over to the generator. You place a small charge and make the proper adjustments to the detonator. Backing away a reasonable distance after doing so.
You produce the detonator from your satchel.
“Clear!”
You flick the switch on the detonator. The C4 detonates in a large explosion. Leaving the area covered in smoke and dust.Almost immediately, the area loses power and goes pitch black
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BBcPpHDJ4yQ
YES!
Objective Completed : Generator Destroyed!
CHARISMA +25
“Alright! Let’s head out! No doubt the Stovie’s heard the blast. They’ll be here any minute! Let’s go!” The group gathers itself before heading out to the bridge. You gaze around. The entire city is pitch black now. And for the first time in what seems like ages, you’re able to see into the night sky clearly. The stars dancing carelessly in the night. The light from the full moon is just enough to make out the silhouette of the bridge.
It was still a short walk away. As you begin the monotonous trek, your mind starts to wander.
You recall when this all began. Those first few days after the initial invasion were the worst. Without warning, Estovakian forces deployed throughout the entire country. They ran rampant about the streets, committing horrible war crimes.
People were being executed in the streets. Families were separated. Women and young girls were held at mercy to the lusty soldiers. Men and boys were sent to labor camps throughout the country. Never to be heard from again. Entire cities were leveled.
The bridge stands before you. A few months ago you stood atop of the bridge. You had just gotten confirmation that your family had been executed. With little else to live for, you had decided to take your own life. You stood at the ledge, ready to jump into the water below. The fall could easily kill you. You were pulled back to safety before you could do it.
The stranger that saved your life that day? His name was Makarov Petrenko.
Mac, for short.
He scolded you for even considering suicide. He ushered you to rethink your actions. Instead of throwing away your life, you should give it to your people. To fight in the resistance. You military was a shadow of what it once was. It was up to you to fight. Fight the foreign invaders.
Fight for a bright future.
Fight for a tomorrow.
--
After trekking through the labyrinth of the city, you finally arrive at your destination. You get a sinking feeling in your gut as you look down the stretch of road. This is it.
At this hour, the bridge has the least amount of security. There is no power. All the street lights are off. The area is nearly pitch black. They don’t suspect a thing.
Mac rallies the group together. They hand out knives and make shift suppressors. Attaching them to their weapons. Many simply used soda cans or oil filters to hide the muzzle flash. You question the effectiveness of such tactics. Mac looks to you.
“Do you have enough to finish the job?”
You make inventory of you satchel.“It’s not enough to take out the entire bridge. But we have just enough to make it impassable for the Stovies.”
“Good.” He gives you a friendly jab on the shoulder. “Make sure you keep your head down. Without you, this whole operation is FUBAR.”
He looks onto the waiting freedom fighters. “Gentlemen, We’ve fought a whole bunch of these. So I know you know what to do.”
You chuckle a bit. ‘A whole bunch of these’ is an understatement.
“But indulge me…. Move quickly, watch your back, cover your buddies, don’t bunch up. And for heaven’s sake, don’t stop until we reach the other side. May the golden king smile upon us.” And with that, you all moved out onto the bridge.
You moved quickly and with grace. Soldiers where stations far apart from each other. The few guards you encountered were taken out with style. They were shot with suppressed weapons, stabbed, or sometimes just pushed off the bridge. There were several cars still parked on the bridge. You bobbed and weaved throughout them to avoid the enemy. You were able to maintain your cover this way. The group advanced forward, dealing with any resistance; while you stayed behind. You hobbled across the bridge. After picking up extra gear at the enemy checkpoint, you found yourself over encumbered and unable to run. The bridge was held up by dozens of suspension lines that ran alongside it. Those where your targets. At each suspension cable you inconspicuously planted a small charge of C4.
It was a long and pain staking process. The cold wind nearly gave your hands frostbite. Slowly, but surely you made your way across the bridge.
Arriving at the half way mark, you begin placing another charge of C4. Your mind wanders. You could picture it in your mind. Envisioning how your life would be without this god damned war. Your goal is so close, you nearly see it. A smug grin makes its way onto your face.
“Finally.” You sigh to yourself
It finally ends.
---
“Shit! We’ve got company!”
“Stovies! To the north!”
“Fuck! I see vehicles!”
“Load the RPG’s!”
Your day dream is cut short by the cold reality. Your heart sinks as you look down the road ahead. It seems the knife cut both ways. The veil of darkness was effective in concealing your approach to the bridge. The Estovakian’s pitted the same tactic against you.
“It looks like an entire fucking platoon!”
“We’re fucked!”
“What do we do?!”
“Should we turn back?!”
“It’s no use! We’re sandwiched on both sides!”
“No! Not one step back!” a freedom fighter shouts. “Stand your ground!”
Lighting a Molotov, he chucks it at the approaching forces. You watch as the burning bottle hurdles towards your enemies. It hit’s its mark; Shattering against the hood of a jeep, and lighting its occupants on fire.
There’s a brief moment of stillness. It’s unnerving.
You feel all eyes watching each other for a brief moment.
That silence is soon broken. Both sides erupt in intense gunfire. Molotovs and White Phosphorus grenades are exchanged. You watch in horror as one of your comrades is caught in the flames. The smell of burning human flesh is horrible. His yells are ear piercing. Something you’d not soon forget.
You pull up your rifle and take aim. You took aim at anything that moved and fired as fast as you could. Some of your rounds hit their mark. Dropping several enemies to their feet. Dashing behind a car, you fumble around the pockets in your vest. Exchanging the magazine in your rifle for a fresh one. Rounds whizzed past above your head.
The machine gunner from before was set up next to you. He sprayed a storm of rounds into the street without stopping. The machine gun was deafening as ever. You had to cover your ears this time. He stayed out of cover for a while, chugging rounds at the enemy. They dropped like flies.
But to stay out of cover like that proved to be fatal. He was shot twice, both rounds landing in his head. As the bullet’s made impact, they splatter his blood all over you. His body dropped to the floor, twitching uncontrollably. His head was nothing more than a gory mess of tissue and skin. You nearly vomit.
Looking around, you spot Mac lighting another Molotov.
“Mac! Mac!” you shout. “What the fuck do I do with the rest of this!?”You gesture are the satchels fill with C4’s charges.
“Plant them! Plant them all!” You nod, and begin to do so.
The Estovakian’s proved to be too much. Their barrage of troops and LAV’s was too much for your feeble force One by one, the rebel fighters are shot down. You admire your fallen comrades. Each one of them fought bravely to their last breath.
You finish placing the final charge, and look for Mac to receive more orders. You spot Mac firing his assault rifle at the enemy.“Mac! I’ve placed the charges! What the fuck do I do!?” He turns you. Before he has a chance to say anything, three bullets tear through his chest. He drops to the ground.
“Mac! Mac!” You break from cover, running over to Mac’s aid.
Big mistake.
You were the last man standing, making you an excellent target. As you dashed across cover, you heard an onslaught of bullets coming your way.
You jumped for it.
Landing, you felt a single bullet tear through your shin. Jolts of pain erupt from your leg. It feels like the bone was shattered. You try your best to ignore the pain and crawl over to Mac.
“Mac! Mac! You’re gonna be alright! Just stay with me!” You hold the dying man in your arms. You try your best to carry him, but your leg prevents you from doing so.
“We’re gonna pull out of this Mac! We always do! We can do this! Mac? Mac?!” His warm blood dripping onto your frostbitten hands He doesn’t respond. Instead, he simply gurgles up blood. His eyes stare into yours. It’s as if he’s looking beyond you. Beyond himself.
He becomes limp.
And just like that.
He’s gone.
The enemy thinks you’re dead. You watch as they start to move in closer. Executing any incapacitated Rebels.
Is it really going to end here?
No.
You’d be damned if you let it end like this. You fumble around your bag once more. Producing the detonator. This is going to end on your own terms.
You gaze into the night sky. The moon hanging proudly overhead, almost like a sentient guard.
You vision is obscured by tears. But these are not tears of pain. But of joy.
One day, the people here will be liberated. The people will know peace and freedom once more. The beautiful country of Emmeria belongs to you. The Emmerian people. And only you.
Thanks to the efforts of people like the ones who gave their lives here today. You take great pride knowing that you became a part of this. You hold everyone that took part of this operation with the utmost respect.
You hold the detonator in your trembling arms.
“I’m sorry.”
You clutch the detonator to your chest, and flip the switch.