Soldiers sat on rucks, their helmets were off as smoke hung over the valley. The two husks of downed apaches burned in the night, causing an unnatural glow to invade the night sky. Soldiers smoked cigarettes, and the alliance soldiers shared with them. A collective inhale settled over fighting positions as some of them watched the distant horizon, while others looked at the ground. Silence hung over the valley like a weight directly on their lungs.
After ensuring his soldiers were accounted for, Eric rushed to the medic tent. He wanted to check on her injuries. As he finished his last can of chew, he thought back to his initial words after she was hit, "I can't lose anyone else." Eric looked up at the sky and sighs. "No more pussy footing." After entering the tent, Eric noticed that Mia was sitting up on her bed. She looked in his direction, almost as if she was waiting on him as he approached. No words were spoken as she crashed into him. Her lips found his as she wraps her arms around his neck.
As the kiss is broken, Eric holds Mia, hugging her gently while running his hand gently over where the arrow had hit her. "Man, the magic of this world is something else." He chuckled before looking back into her eyes. She rolled her eyes while kissing him lightly again. "Go do your job, I am sure we will talk more about this later." Eric nodded before kissing her back, his mood lightened as he inhaled. He could breathe easier knowing that Mia would be okay.
After a parting hug with Mia, Eric he readies himself for the most impossible task of today: a Battalion-wide command sync. Commander Milano had issued a call for every leader from squad leader and up to go to the command tent. Eric looked at the soldiers gathering for the meeting. Grim faces and battle weary expressions covered each face. Dirt was smeared with grease from constant gun fire, and more than a few faces had the gaunt, dead look. It was as if they survived the holocaust and not a battle against a force 30,000 strong.
From the start of the meeting, voices were raised as each ammo count was worse than the last. Eric pinched the bridge of his nose as the bickering reached a fever pitch. Not a single commander was above the black margins for any supply type. The atmosphere went from hostile to volatile when the aircraft losses were confirmed. The apache commander came up to the commander and screamed at Milano "why the fuck were my boys out there when we knew we couldn't match the goddamn dragons!" He growled. "Jeffrey just got married to one of the villagers! What am I supposed to say to his Widow! They have a kid on the way!" All apache pilots of the downed apaches were confirmed as Killed in Action. That had been the worst of the details explained thus far. Milano looked at the man in silence, his jaw tightening as the scenes of many young soldiers' funerals played in his mind. Someone slammed a clipboard on their desk, and every soldier went quiet. The battalion executive officer stood up and looked around the room. "This is not the time to fight amongst each other." He then turned to the Apache commander, his gaze soft as he patted the man on the back. "I am sure Jeffrey would be assured knowing that the loss of his life is not in vain. His child will grow up happy and healthy, I think I can speak for everyone in this room when I say we will all die trying to make that happen."
Milano then stood up, holding up his hand to signal everyone to be quiet. He walked over to the Apache commander, and held his gaze. "Joe, you and I have been doing this for a long time. We have lost many like Jeffrey before. Let's make sure that it matters. Jeffrey gave his life for his wife and unborn child. Let's make sure his sacrifice never stands in vain." Milano patted the commander on the back before turning to the rest of the leaders in the room. "We have all been here before, out numbered and outgunned. This is the moment that we must stand with our allies like never be-" His words were cut off when a soldier bursts into the tent. A young soldier stood at attention and yelled out with panicked urgency. "Sir! I apologize for interrupting, but a man is standing outside the gates. He brought a strange caravan with him, and is requesting to speak to Sergeant First Class Dryer, sir!
Eric groaned inwardly as he looked at the private with a "I wanna kill you, but can't" glare. He sighed as every head in the tent was now staring at him like he was Medusa. "Why is it always him?" A voice from the back muttered. Everyone heard since the room had gone pin drop silent.
Eric walked out of the tent, following the private while ignoring the pointed stares glaring at his back like missiles painted on a target. He then noticed the caravan. Twenty large vehicles stood in line with each other. Partitions were open, showing wares and food like the gut trucks Eric had done business with at Fort Hood. He stopped in his tracks as he looked at the man approaching him. Ariat boots, blue jeans, and an anime girl shirt that had obscene scenes on it stared back at him. "You have got to be kidding me." Eric says while grumbling to himself.
"Still got that mean right hook?" The man says as he takes off his sun glasses, looking up at a damaged tank smoldering in the background. "It look's like ya'll got yourselves in a bit of a pickle." The man says as he steps up to Eric, looking at him with the same grin he had used back at the pool hall. "And unlike with victoria, I always come back for a fair price."