Five years ago. About 3 miles south of baja.
Sev was waiting for the signal. As usual, he had to wait even longer than normal, because once again, the scouts were lost. He did a quick check of all his gear. His rifle, a Brand-new Marksman carbine he had modified into a select-fire rifle. His pistol, was his trusty 9mm Hi-power browning. His trustycombat knife had a sharp edge, and was resting in the shealth he had on his duty belt. He rolled up the sleeves on his BDU's checking his watch at the same time. 6:47. The scouts were over 15 minutes late. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed his rucksack, and moved farther along the ridge. It was then that he saw the Cross. About a 1/2 mile away, the scout had been spotted by Ceasar's legion scou…Read more >
He began to squint. Taking his eye off the scope for a moment, he took a Drink from his canteen. He checked his watch. Five past eight P.M. Five minutes until he arrived. Craning his head around, he surveyed the area for threats. Nothing. Peeking through his Rifle's scope, he took a deep breath, exhaled, and Fired. He saw The general's Arm be ripped off in a Blast of blood and gore. He crawled backwards, until he was out of sight of the area. He heard screams and shouting, and smiled. He grabbed his old backpack, his .308 rifle, and headed away, toward his safehouse. His name was Sev, and he was aa Ex-desert ranger. Then again, there weren't any non-ex rangers anymore. But he, unlike those traitors, refused to join the New california repub…Read more >