From Russia with Love: Part Deux

Day 1,019, 20:36 • Published in USA USA • by Synesi
Day 1,017 1700 Hours
Battlefields of FER/Western Alaska
Report Made by: Brigadier General DMJohnston, Division 1 Commanding Officer, USTC

*pshh*JCS Command this is *pshh* TC Companies Alpha Bravo and Charlie *pshh* we need
immediate evac *pshh* we’re being overrun! *pshh*. Damnit! No Response. Where in the
world is Lt.Gen Morrigan? *pshh* JCS Command this is *pshh* TC Companies Alpha Brav…

I looked down at the remnants of the now broken SINCGARS radio I had been using, reduced to pieces
by Ruskie gunfire. “No respect for personal property from these guys...” I mused as I aimed the barrel
of my Abrams at the moron who decided today was a good day to mess with me. “No one blows up
the radio I'm using to call my Morri!” I fired a SABOT round, leaving a nice hole through his armor
plating. “That's what you get, ya punk b*tch.”

I looked around the battlefield, broken vehicles everywhere, a massive Charlie Foxtrot of combat. No
one told me it was going to be that cold though. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's the cold. I noticed
a handful of troops in the open, and smiled as I found my opportunity to finally use that canister round
I'd been holding onto. I watched through the sight with delight as those commies experienced the
equivalent of a 120mm shotgun blast.


Better days in warmer climates.

I hopped down out of my tank, grabbed my machine gun, and headed for the woods to make my
way to the capital. That was the original rally point, but you know what they say, the best plan only
lasts until the first round is fired, and that was sure true today. I checked my map and plotted the
quickest route to the RP. It was time to get the hell out of this place; who needs Titanium anyway?


Go ahead Ruskies, make my day.

I walked through the woods, hoping that some unlucky commie would deploy into my hex. It was then
that I caught a glimpse of a familiar face, only to realize that I was too late to help him. There was
Catpain Minuvas, his lifeless body still clutching the butterfly trigger of his M2 machine fun, a wild-
eyed, murderous look on his face. From the look of the scene around his position, he must have taken
out three dozen Ruskies before they overtook his position. I laid him to rest there for pickup when we
could, and made a note to get him a medal, even if he would never know about it.


Minuvas in his final position.

As I continued through the snowy grove, I found a batch of kittens, cuddling together against a tree.
I stared at them and they looked back at me, with their little kitten eyes. But these weren't just any
kittens. These were Ruskie kittens, conceived in the depths of communism. I knew there was only
one thing to do. I knelt down and spoke in soft tones, “It's for the better kittens.” I rose, and resumed
my journey. Then, with all the malice that I have for communism as a capitalistic, money-loving
American, I smiled.


It's a scientifically documented fact.

I got to the edge of the tree line and could see the shimmering buildings of the capital. I pulled out
my binos and hoped to find friendly forces there. Off in the distance, I could see Brigadier General
Technician, and my Morri, who was giving Tech a look that could only mean he was giving her more
sage advice that she didn't understand.

I pulled a dead Ruskie out of his tank and fired it up, rolling toward the extraction point and my Morri,
just as I see LT Morning Alice fly overhead in her Apache. “I hate Russia...”

Join the TC, Save the World!