We secured the airport, and a reporter showed up on the first flight in. She embedded herself with us, just as we got our orders to roll out. Her name’s Marian Quant, and she can’t have a brain in that pretty head of hers. She hauls her cameraman right up into the line of fire like her microphone deflects bullets.
We’re on our way to the north shore to clear the beach for the arrival of our reinforcements. For a while, we thought the SLA had run out of steam when they broke off fighting near the airport. Seems like they just decided to head us off at the beach. The place is lousy with them.
February 22nd, 2008
The captain’s plan went down like clockwork. We hit them hard and fast, then ducked back into cover again. That took out some of their armor, but they still pressed us back out of Dolores, northwest toward Somato, us playing tag with them the whole way.
Word is help is on the way. Our new orders are to double-time it to Paraiso, the Royal capital, and secure the area around the airport. After all, our friends need someplace to land.
February 20th, 2008
Ortego was a total clusterfuck. The SLA gangbanged us, and I nearly took one right between the eyes. Another three inches to the left, and I’d have gotten a free trip to Arlington. I’d have been in good company. We lost a lot of men there.
The SLA took Ortego, and they’re already pushing farther south. They have the numbers for now—at least until our reinforcements show up—and they’re making the most of it.
None of us have any idea why this is happening yet. The captain ordered us to fall back to Dolores, which ain’t much more than a bunch of fishing shacks, and he hasn’t said a word since. He just keeps staring at those maps, studying them. My money says he’s still got a trick or two of his own up his cammies.
He’d better.
-Will
June 7th, 2007
That’ll teach me to wish for some excitement. One minute, I’m “patrolling” the beach, the next me and my buddies are racing around the island, dodging bullets, everything FUBARed to hell.
The Sahrani Liberation Army hit us hard and fast, and the Royals got caught with their shorts down. We managed to haul ass out of the base in Corazol with most of our company intact. Under Captain Armstrong’s orders, we regrouped in the town of Ortego, about three klicks due south.
While the captain had us digging in, I spotted him barking orders to a special forces unit. Here’s hoping they show those SLA guys who they’re fucking with.
-Will
May 21st, 2007
Just a quick post to let you all know that most of the company has already left, and we’re officially out of here. There’s something going on in Corazol though, some of our guys called in; something like the Sahrani version of a cat stuck up a tree, probably. This ought to be my last entry though. . . maybe I’ll write another one after we find out what’s going on, but don’t hold your breath.
Kennebunkport, here I come!
-Will
February 15th, 2007
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