Part 11: Session 010: Retreat

Session 010: Retreat

Day 12, 1317


The gray smoke at the bottom of the screen denotes area not yet explored. As we move through it, we'll uncover more of the map.

The six of us loaded up into our new transportation (Torpedo called shotgun an instant before Scotch) and headed back into rebel territory to seek out the camp where the government officer was being held.



While tooling around down south, we saw a rebel convoy coming the other way on the road. We pulled off into the jungle quickly so as not to be detected.

The red dot near our position is a patrol. It moves through the map as we do. We can attack these patrols, and hostile patrols will attack us, if they detect us. Here, notice that there is no red ring, only blue. That means we are completely camouflaged in the jungle and patrols along the road will not spot us. We're going to let this patrol pass us by and continue on.



After seeing the convoy, I figured we were on the right track. Staying off the road but keeping it nearby, we slowly negotiated the jungle until we came across a large camp. We checked our weapons and dismounted.

Day 13, 1108



We had an elevated position on our approach, but unfortunately the foliage was too thick to make much use of it. Pitch and Deadmeat moved up to give us overwatch on the road.



Torpedo and I took up a position to be able to put suppressing fire into the foliage if needed.



Suddenly, a barrage of rounds flew from the camp in our direction. The fire was poorly aimed, but the sheer volume of it was enough to put us on the defensive. I felt a small-caliber round slam into my vest. Within the span of a couple of seconds, all four of us had been hit. This wasn't looking good.



"Jesus Christ, they must have a whole army down there!" hissed Torpedo. As leaves and dirt were being kicked up all around Pitch and Deadmeat, I saw the main force coming up the road.



"Holy shit," I whispered.

I cupped a hand to my mouth to be heard over the cacophany of gunfire directed at us. "Deadmeat, Pitch, get out of there! We're falling back! Falling back!"



Pitch was trying to tag at least one of the rebels, but I saw him lose his sight-picture as another hit slammed into his arm.



Pitch snapped out of his combat high and joined Deadmeat in running back up the hill. Torpedo and I sprayed into the bushes to cover their retreat.



Pitch only made it a couple of meters before I saw his head snap hard to the side. He fell to his knees, alive but gravely wounded.

A lucky shot through the trees caught Pitch in the head. The head is, as you probably know, about the worst place to sustain an injury of any kind. If a wound is not outright fatal, heavy blood loss, nerve damage, and loss of consciousness are all likely to follow.



Deadmeat made it up the hill, but she too was suffering from multiple gunshot wounds. We all waved them over frantically, as though it would help. The incoming fire was withering-going out to get them would only result in more casualties.

Also the game doesn't let you drag or carry other characters. Lame.

"Come on, Deadmeat, come on!" yelled Scotch.

Deadmeat reached us and collapsed. I immediately started doing what I could to keep her alive.



Pitch, moving on pure instinct, fell to his knees once again at the top of the hill. The left side of his head and left shoulder were slathered in gore. Through rapidly-glazing eyes, he looked at the five of us ducked down near the GAZ and tossed his weapon as hard as he could in our direction. He then flopped onto his stomach and lay still.



Given his weakened state, the rifle didn't travel far. Heedless of the hail of rounds still falling all around us, iastudent sprinted over to the Mosin-Nagant and scooped it up. He paused for a moment-perhaps he was saying something to Pitch, but over the reports of dozens of guns I wouldn't have been able to hear it. As quick as he had gone out, he ran back to the GAZ. With no time to reflect, we piled into the vehicle and I gunned the motor.





Torpedo was badly hurt and Deadmeat was in serious condition. Las Vacaciones was the nearest city, so I stuck to the roads and drove there as fast as I could.



Day 13, 1402

While Torpedo and Deadmeat were receiving treatment, I asked iastudent if he had said anything to Pitch while he was next to him.

"Where Odin has called you, we will follow," he said. "That is what I said to him."

"It is unfortunate," said Scotch. "But I suppose it comes with this line of work. It could have been any one of us, really."

I looked over at the door to the emergency room. "It was almost three of us," I said. "I wonder if the government knows just how strong the rebels really are down south."

"This is what happens when we are made to conceal the weaknesses of others," spat iastudent. "If this man we seek is so precious to the king of this land, let his armies retrieve him."

"That's the thing: he's not precious," I responded. "That's why Caderas sent us and not his own military. I'm willing to bet he's more afraid he'll give up information to the rebels than anything else."



Once Torpedo and Deadmeat had gotten some stitches and a blood transfusion, I decided to pay Minister Caderas a visit in Artrigo.



"Oh, you are back, I see," was the first thing he said when I walked into his office. "Have you completed the task I set for you?"

"No, and frankly I think the job is more than we bargained for," I said. "This is not a four-thousand-eldo job, minister. If you want your officer back, you're going to need a company-sized element to go in and get him."

He cocked his head at me. "What's this, then? I believed you to be a competent man. Was I wrong to think this?"

"It cost the lives of one of my mercenaries just to scout one of their camps," I said. "I'm competent, but I'm not a miracle worker."

"The terms of the job are set," said Caderas, looking back down at his blotter and resuming his signing of documents. "When you meet the terms, you will be paid."

"What about the officer?"

"I would imagine he is eager for you to meet the terms of the job as well," said the Interior Minister plainly. He flicked his eyes at the guard, who ushered me out the door.

Well, that rescue mission didn't go so well, did it? There were over three dozen rebels in that camp, and we weren't even close to killing them all. We're definitely going to need some more firepower before we try that again.