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Fantasy Free For All: The Riot

Ryia, making her way towards the three on guard, calls out to anyone else in the camp. "Alright boys, we're under the spotlight now!" A few heads look out of the tents as the soldiers all head out. 8 men, 1 woman, but she's used to it.


"What's the news, boss?" One asks. Even though she hates to be called that, she's been taking point of this operation just because she's the most competent with the equipment needed on this mission.


"We've been reassigned to a location in the city. We're posted to observe and intercept anything we see as an immediate threat. We're the hawks and the hounds now." She says it with a smirk, knowing the squad will like this. As if on cue, there are a few cheers.


Though the team is usually posted on reconnaissance or surveillance missions, the entire squad has proven incredibly capable of performing tasks like storming a rebel camp or intercepting a hostile convoy. They call themselves shock troops, despite their real tags as recon units. They enjoy fast-paced and in-your-face kind of missions. The team only has one designated marksman, and he's usually armed with a medium to long range assault rifle, the favorite being the FN FAL. Most have kits like Marcus's, tuned for close range engagements.


Once the news is out, she assigns them all to start packing up and getting ready. She makes her way toward her and Marcus's tent to equip her armor and pack up to leave. Within an hour, the mobile command truck is on wheels again and the Humvees are packed.


Though Ryia has been in command for the last couple weeks, she knows now that Marcus will take point. When it comes to technical stuff, she's good, but as far as commanding an army she knows he falls off. She hops into the passenger side of the front of the two Humvees as the convoy starts to roll out, the one Marcus is driving, one Humvee in front and one behind the mobile command vehicle. It'll be an hour or two before we come into sight of the city.
 
"Clank clank clank"


After walking on the underground train tracks for about 20 minutes they came to a dead end. A wall with a huge metal bank vault.


Nola cracked his dark rugged hands and began making a hip hop rhythm on the metal. "I'm spruuung. Dawg she got meeee... got me doing thing i never do, oooo baby im telling you Im spr-


"NOLA SHUT UP! WE TOLD YOU THATS NOT THE PASS CODE!" A soldiers sounded from a speaker in the corner.


"I AM THE KING!"


The door slowly began opening...
 
While he's driving, Marcus can't help but start thinking about the situation ahead of them. What's in the city? What kind of resistance will they be met with while entering? Do they have any UGA backup? He wants to know the answers to all of these questions before he goes in. For those answers, he turns to Ryia. "Hey, call HQ and ask for a rundown on the city. I want to know what we'll be walking into and if we'll be alone." As he waits for an answer, he rethinks about the current configuration and how vulnerable it is.


There are two Humvees and an MCV. The Humvees are equipped both with .50 cal. belt-fed machine guns with a half-protected shooter. There are three people in each Humvee: a driver, a passenger, and a gunner. There are also three in the MCV, one driving and two performing constant radar scans on the area, trying to pick up on any radio frequencies, etc. The MCV is unarmed, but very heavily armored to the point that standard explosives like grenades or RPGs won't hurt it too much. It's especially heavily armored on the underside, protecting from mines and other IEDs.
 
In response to Marcus's request, Ryia nods. Using her headset, she's on the air with the main base in an instant.


"This is Cyborg of MRU.06." She says immediately. She's used to using her code name over the radio, it fits her anyway. "Requesting information on the area of deployment. We need to know about enemy troop movement, particularly." He informs us that several rebel troops have been seen in the area, especially after the raid on the rebel camp earlier by Poet and co.


"Understood. Requesting air support. We're going to be walking below rooftops full of rebels, we'd like to ensure that we're secure until we can set up." For this, I put the transmission through my wrist communicator so Marcus can hear too.


"Affirmative. There is a strike squad still prepared from an earlier mission. We'll send them in to provide fire support and overwatch." Poet's squad, no doubt.


"Copy that, thanks for taking care of us Command. Cyborg out." She finishes before ending the transmission. "At least we know we'll have some cover. I hope these guys in the air are the real deal." She says, she doesn't want to be covered by any sub-par forces. "In any case, it's not like the rebels have anything that our HMGs can't cut through. Ain't that right, Nick?" The gunner, Nicholas, just nods, laughing. "We'll be fine." Ryia finishes, looking over to her brother.
 
Poet's door silently slid open, a young man poke his head inside.


"Uh...Poet sir? We got called in for another mission...air support this time."


Poet looked over from the rifles laid on the floor, examining the soldier. A private from the same airship. The man seemed uncomfortable and eager to leave Poet to himself.


Poet got to his feet and crossed the room, his boots clicking against the metal floor, being the only noise available. He stopped two paces in front of the private, looking him over...then laughed, a quiet laugh but a laugh nonetheless. He patted the man twice on the cheek and handed him a giant revolver.


"Keep it...and don't get kicked in the face by it."


Poet walked out of the room and to the hangers to wait for his team. 10 minutes later his team filed into the bay. Poet looked to the second highest ranked soldier and nodded to him, a gesture well known to his team that he was leaving control to him.


The corporal stood in the front of the team with Poet to his side. He yelled.


"ATTEN-SHUN! Alright boys! Our only job is to provide air support to some back water squad, knee deep in rebel shit! We do this clean! We do this my way!"


The corporal looked to Poet for confirmation, he nodded. The corporal continued. Poet had trained his team mentally that they were the best and any other teams were less than stellar, hence the back water comment.


"We get this done and we get home soon! Have ourselves some good food and good booze!"


The team roared in approval. The corporal made a swirling motion with one finger. Their airship's engine came to life and the soldiers piled in.


They were on their way to raise some hell.
 
Ten blocks. Ten blocks, turn left. Three blocks. Turn right. Three blocks. Garage on the left. The directions have been embedded into Ryia's mind for the last twenty minutes. She knows Marcus won't remember them. She's fiddling around with the dashboard of the Humvee when Nicholas is heard from above. "Five minutes! I can see the city!" Already? Ryia sends a quick call to the main base again.


"This is Cyborg, what's the ETA on that air support?"


"They're on the way - seven minutes." The cold response comes through clearly. At least they're on time.


Ryia calls to the squad radio now. "Alright boys, we're headed into the middle of all of this rebel shit. Let's get to our objective clean as we can, let the other guys deal with the worst of it." A few grunts of disappointment, but overall approval. "Into the center of it all then." She mutters to herself while she loads her weapon. The sound of Nicholas loading the belt and charging the HMG on top can be heard.


"We'll be in town in twenty seconds." The road is becoming more defined, the city is just moments away.
 
As Nola entered the room, the man who opened the door gave Raiden an odd look. Raiden tensed up and kept his hands wrapped tight around the grips of his rifle as the door was shut behind them. "H-Hey guys..." Raiden announced. The man who opened the door was still looking at him. "Finns det något på mitt ansikte...?" Raiden asked the man. Raiden got no response and decided to elaborate. "Is there..." He checked to see if the man was still listening. "Something on my face...?" The man laughed and walked away leaving Raiden curious and left feeling awkward, no everyone was looking at him. "Titta inte på mig." Everyone kept looking. He then yelled. "Don't look at me!" He then muttered swears in Swedish about stupid people.
 
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~Cockpit~


The two pilots, Dex and Rask, exchanged conversations en route to the city.


"Rask...you know where we're going?"


"Yeah, right into the heart of scum county."


"Christ! What the hell? They want us dead or something? The first thing the rebels'll do if they see us is try to shoot us outta the sky!"


"Nah Dex...relax man, if they have any sense then they won't outta fear of getting bombed! Fear is a powerful weapon my friend"


Rask punched Dex in the shoulder who sighed in response.


~Holding Area~


A soldier hit the floor hard, a second soldier straddling him, raining blows onto his face, some were dodged, some were deflected, some found their mark. The soldier on the ground flipped his assailant off and on his back. He quickly jumped to his feet, grabbed the assailant and threw him into a metallic box of ammunition. The circle of soldiers that formed around them jeered in approval. The man that was thrown into the boxes gave up. The soldiers cheered louder. The corporal that was left in charge silenced everybody.


"Alright who's the next two contestants!?"


Two more men stepped in the center of the circle, squaring off.


Off to the other end of the ship was Poet and a female soldier. The woman sat on the floor staring hard into a laptop, leaning in very close. Poet stood over her, trying his best to read the laptop that rested on her lap. A pair of earphones plugged in.


"Find anything?"


Poet said but the woman didn't hear. He lightly nudged her with his boot. She took out the earphones and looked up at him.


"Find anything?"


"Well all I got was being able to tap into a vehicle of the team we're supposed to be supporting."


"And?"


"Apparently they're planning on doing their mission, no bloodshed."


"Really? Oh man...what kinda mission are they doing?"


"Just scouting out a city."


Poet rolled his eyes.


"Command doesn't tell us anything these days huh..."


The woman pulled up a picture of the commanding officer in charge of the mission and held up her laptop to Poet. Poet took it.


"Silver-ish hair and blue eyes with a small-ass build."


Poet smirked.


"Ryia Favian...finally get a chance to work with her eh?"


Poet handed the laptop back to the woman and ruffled her hair.


"Good job Squirt."


Squirt gave him a smile and went back to work.


Dex radioed in.


"ETA 1 minute sir."


Poet turned to the soldiers, still fighting.


"ALRIGHT GET READY! Corporal! Take command!"
 
Raiden moved to a window up a flight of stairs while Nola talked with his friends. The sky was still black, the snow still fell. Raiden loved it. He loved the life he lived of being on his own, yet, he missed Mia, his family, his school...well not really his school but it was the only place he could see Mia considering she worked when he'd be free, and he worked hen she'd be free. His ears flattened against his head and he looked at his rifle. He had engraved 'R+M' on the side of it. He smiled, rubbed it, and looked out the window. Outside he saw tired tracks. He followed them to a UGA patrol SUV. They stopped to question some civilians. "Just doing their job." Raiden thought. He respected the UGA because, aside from when they were trying to kill whatever he loved, Raiden felt that killing the UGA was wrong. Many times he has debated taking up peaceful protests, but that never ends well. He respected what the UGA believed was right, but did not agree with it. That, on top of their arrogance, and the fact that they killed Mia and his family, was the fuel he used to fight for what they believed in, and what he believed in. He watched the patrol SUV from afar.
 
We enter the city, the rural setting suddenly transitioning into urban buildings. "I don't like this." Marcus mutters, looking around at all of the glaring faces. He gets on squad radio. "Alright, men. Don't fire until fired upon, got it? We're here to gather intel, not to start a war."


The rear vehicle gunner, Striker, they call him, speaks up. "Look at all these guys, just itchin' to take a shot at us. I can see the glint o' the guns, the look in 'em eyes..."


Marcus can't help but agree. "You know your job, Striker. Don't want to catch hell from base command."


"Don't mean I hafta like it." It's an angry grumble.


As they move slowly through the city, every one of the UGA members gets uncomfortable. "Ryia, you make comms with that air support yet?" He asks, looking over for a moment.
 
Raiden see's more UGA moving in, some on foot, some in humvees. "What the hell?" Raiden moves to a window with a better angle. "Why can i not find a place away from them for A DAY?" He asks himself. He walks up some more stairs and opens a man hole the slightest bit. he peers out as a humvee rolls over top on the man hole, Raiden positioned perfectly so the tires don't hit him. "What a cliche..." He thought jokingly to himself. He watched their movements.
 
"Just patching in now, bro." Comes the reply. "Give me a second..." She mutters to herself. Some static ensues, then a secure connection is set up. This is a safe network, no need for code names here.


"This is Ryia Favian, of the MRU.06, do you copy?" She waits for a response as she wearily watches the crowds of civilians around them. She wonders how many belong to the AF. The NWOC. The FWF. As they move into the city further, the faces seem to get more hostile. Eight blocks, now. Eight blocks. Turn left. Three blocks... She can't help but start again.
 
From under the humvee that has now stopped, Raiden saw crowds of civilians. "Go a head, start something you dumma åsnor..." He grabbed his rifle and took off the safety waiting to see who would make the first move. "Nola better be ready in there." The humvee started to move. "Damn!" He dropped the manhole lid, it caused a loud slam. Raiden hid back into the sewer out of sight but still close by.
 
Squirt was busying herself...playing some browser game when a voice made itself heard.


"This is Ryia Favian, of the MRU.o6, do you copy?"


Squirt spoke back in a slightly annoyed tone.


"You kinda interrupted my game...anyways I'm giving the mic to our commanding officer."


Squirt handed Poet the mic.


"This is Poet Vitaly, second-in-command of your air support."


Squirt raised a brow at the "second-in-command" comment.


"We've just entered the city's airspace. We see you, we're tailing you...30 meters behind. Need anything else?"
 
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"Yeah, maybe a side of fries with that." She says sarcastically. "Just keep us safe and we'll make this easy. 5 minutes 'til we get there, so let's keep things smooth."


She looks over to Marcus. "How long until we get shot at? Let's make this a game." She laughs some. "I bet we won't even be able to turn before someone takes a shot or two." As she says that, though, she thinks twice. That gunship tailing them is incredibly capable of taking out as many rebels as it wants. Just as she thinks it, she remembers something.


"Oh, and Vitaly." She gets on the radio again. "I noted some kind of HVT earlier - unarmed Indian-looking guy. He looked important, everything about him screamed politician. If you spot him, let us know."
 
omfg what have i done 
(What should i do? Should I make Nola commander? Lolololol im feeling like such a p00si b0ss)
 
Squirt laughed aloud at Ryia's sarcastic remark but stifled her laughter by a glare from Poet.


"Alright men! Get those doors open and start spotting!"


The corporal gave out his orders, the right and left side doors opened, the city air flowing into the ship, the soldiers lined up, shoulder to shoulder, some sat, some stood, then they just kept watch for trouble, their rifles at the ready. The turrets on the side of the ship could do all the work but the squad preferred more personal matters.


Squirt went back to playing her browser game while everyone else went to work, but she was, once again, interrupted, Ryia's voice breaking through.


Squirt quickly handed the mic to Poet.


"Indian man...yeah I took my notes on him too, don't worry Favian, probably just some NWOC pacifist."


Poet was about to end the connection when Squirt pointed at a particularly upset looking group of civilians that weren't doing anything more than mean mugging the UGA humvees. Poet grinned and spoke to Ryia.


"Careful, there's movement to your left, hostile. Can't get into position for a clear shot, you'll have to do it."


Poet ended their connection.
 
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"We've got company." Ryia states to her men through squad radio. The group that Poet pointed out is now coming into view. She engages the external speakers on the MCV and brings a microphone close. "Attention citizens, we are on official UGA business. Interfering with our interests will result in dire consequences." Nicholas above looks around the crowd and swivels the turret as if to support that last statement. "We advise everyone to clear the streets. If given reason to believe you are a threat, we will treat you like a threat." With that, she disables the external speakers again. "Hope they got the message." She mutters. She sees a few people stepping away, not wanting to interfere, but most stay, including that mob.


"These guys 'r askin' for trouble." Comes Striker's voice through comms. Looking back, Ryia sees his turret pointed towards the crowd.


"Remember your orders, soldier." She responds sternly.


"Yeah, but the second they step outta line they better believe I'm gon' be all over 'em." Typical Striker.


Still, Ryia readies her rifle. She keeps it out of sight, but she's able to instantly raise it and let of rounds. Marcus, too, has his weapon near him, so he shouldn't be in too mouth trouble. She can't tell what the mob is doing just yet.
 
Raiden makes his way up through the manhole and covers it again. He stays out of sight when he moved into the shadows. His rifle at the ready, Raiden waits while the humvees and troops march past him, looking to see when the first punch is thrown. The crowd of people don't look like they will start anything, but they're are a lot of them that Raiden couldn't see. "Don't even think about it." Raiden said to himself when he saw a member of the crowd with an unlit Molotov. This angered Raiden. He raised his rifle and took aim at the man's leg. His long rifle just barley concealed by the shadows. "If you try anything, I will put one in your leg buddy, don't do this, just let them pass. This city doesn't need a war." Raiden though to himself.
 
Ranjit was had been sitting at the computer once again. It seemed no one else in the church wished to use it, though there were plenty of times when he was gone that he wouldn't be aware of it. A lot of them were religious fanatics anyway, not that he didn't pray to his own God sometimes, but he supposed that was the reason why he didn't see them oft here. As soon as he had seen the UGA vehicle driving into the town he had gotten up and started walking to it. This was the chance they needed to band together as a team. This could unite them once and for all. He ran this time, rather than walked, all the way to the town, and by the time he was there, he was very much so out of of breath. But he was there, and that was very important.


He heard a booming metallic voice from somewhere to his right, so he went that way. As he got closer, he could hear the familiar sounds of a crowd: the shuffling of feet, the rustling of bags, the muttering of the people; it awoke a memory inside him when he was giving a speech in India and he felt so amazed at how words could alter someone's opinion. In a world where violence is an everyday thing, that was very unique. But he knew that words wouldn't change the government's opinion now. This was why he wanted war for peace. War for peace, he thought. Very curious. The crowd finally came into view and he gasped. A lot of them were armed with some sort of weapon; he spotted a few with tree branches in their hands, but there was quite a few of them. This was something that neither side had, and it was numbers. No doubt if this crowd was roused they could accomplish something here, and an even less doubt was that those two FWF members were here. At least he thought that second one was part of the FWF. He never stated a faction, but they were getting along well enough, so he assumed they were on the same team. Their base would likely be somewhere in the city, since they're here, but they could just be travelling and happened to pass by this city on the same day the fight broke it. He would treat their help as an added bonus, rather than a calculated addition. He just had to find some way to talk to the crowd. He could just go up in front of them and start yelling, but that would attract attention from the UGA, something that was no bound to end well. And then the idea struck him. Everyone needed a motive.


The crowd's motive would be a martyr.


He would go up there, start speaking, and if they shot him, that would probably do more than what he could do by just talking. If they detained him, all the more better. He wouldn't die, and he would create the motive. This just removed some of the fear away. He didn't know what exactly the government would do. They were very corrupt and evil these days. He could hear his heart beating from just thinking about this. He took a step towards the group, and blood rushed to his head. He felt this was such a stupid plan, such a stupid way to die, but his brain knew that this was logical. This was the only solution if they were to achieve anything. As he walked now, he mumbled a prayer under his breath, one that his mother had taught him to say when he was scared of doing something. There, he had walked to the crowd. There was no doubt someone had seen him by now, someone harmful, but they hadn't done anything yet. A few people from the mob saw this young-looking guy, dressed in a suit, walk up to them and now they were watchful. The muttering stopped and eyes were focused on him. Supposedly they assumed he was another government official, and they were awaiting orders from his to march into a death camp or whatnot, but that wasn't what he was here to do.


"Citizens!" he shouted in a firm but loud tone. That had grabbed their attention. Now he had to decide what direction to take this in. After some quick thinking, he chose the religious route. If there was anything people could get roused about, it was religion.


"The path to spiritual enlightenment is a tough one. Filled with struggle, patience and sacrifice." They were already starting to get restless. It didn't seem many of them or any of them were interested in this. He would move on.


"So I ask you this. Haven't we struggled enough? Haven't we waited decades? Haven't we sacrificed our freedom?" He put stress on that last word because he knew that would be a key point. "We're forced to do things everyday by these bureaucratic pigs." The cat had been let out of the bag. "We're forced to starve when we used to make enough food to feed our families. We're forced to stay quiet when we would rather speak out. Even now, we're forced to stand here when I would rather take action. This, my brothers, is oppression. This is the robbery of the enlightenment that we had worked so hard to earn. Like mules, we have been ridden to the end of the rainbow, only to have our pot of gold taken by our riders. If you wish to leave like the cowardly beast they've made you, then do so." They looked at one another, daring others to leave after they had been put in such a bad light. "But if you're willing to throw them off, and take back what is rightfully ours, then join me!" He raised his right fist to the sky, in a mark of revolution and defiance. If the bullet were to come, now would be the time.
 
As soon as the unidentified speaker steps out and makes himself known, Ryia starts making calls. She brings up the image of the man he had saved earlier on her HUD and tries to line it up with the man now causing a stir. At the same time, she's trying to secure a line once again with Poet. The closer she looks, the more everything lines up. "The hair, the suit, the skin tone, that's the guy." She says to herself, though Marcus takes notice. "Possible HVT, undoubtably holds some importance. Look at the way he moves the crowd." Her brother just nods, Marcus never saw the images from the drone earlier.


The static cuts from the radio as Ryia's request is patched through. "Poet, we have eyes on that same marked target. He's at our 2:00, causing a stir. Keep your eyes on him, if things get bad down here I want suppressive fire so we can get out." She says it all with a nervous edge in her voice.


Ryia addresses the squad radio now. "Squad, change of plans. We need to apprehend this potential HVT before he says too much." Just as she finishes, though, the speaker's fist is thrown into the air. The roar of the mob below him can be heard, it's obvious it's too late. "Nicholas! Striker! I want all weapon systems online now. We're taking this guy in, and I don't think that crowd will like it."


"Finally, I get to shoot somethin'." Striker's voice sounds through the speakers in the Humvee. "Don't worry, boss, I'll lay 'em down if they try anythin' at all."


The convoy slows some and approaches the speaker, still absorbed in the crowd. "You boys ready?" Ryia asks, doing one last check on her own weapon and tech. systems. A quick scan of the crowd shows most are armed, though primitively. Our mounted HMGs will rip through countless numbers of them if unleashed, but there are still an overwhelming amount of them.


"Remember, don't fire until fired upon." It's a last warning, but she wants it to be clear that they have permission to fire if aggressed upon. "Here goes." She mutters to herself as she opens the passenger side door, rifle brandished. Marcus and two others from the Humvee in the back also step out, and the four of them approach the speaker slowly on foot now. 
As soon as the unidentified speaker steps out and makes himself known, Ryia starts making calls. She brings up the image of the man he had saved earlier on her HUD and tries to line it up with the man now causing a stir. At the same time, she's trying to secure a line once again with Poet. The closer she looks, the more everything lines up. "The hair, the suit, the skin tone, that's the guy." She says to herself, though Marcus takes notice. "Possible HVT, undoubtably holds some importance. Look at the way he moves the crowd." Her brother just nods, Marcus never saw the images from the drone earlier.


The static cuts from the radio as Ryia's request is patched through. "Poet, we have eyes on that same marked target. He's at our 2:00, causing a stir. Keep your eyes on him, if things get bad down here I want suppressive fire so we can get out." She says it all with a nervous edge in her voice.


Ryia addresses the squad radio now. "Squad, change of plans. We need to apprehend this potential HVT before he says too much." Just as she finishes, though, the speaker's fist is thrown into the air. The roar of the mob below him can be heard, it's obvious it's too late. "Nicholas! Striker! I want all weapon systems online now. We're taking this guy in, and I don't think that crowd will like it."


"Finally, I get to shoot somethin'." Striker's voice sounds through the speakers in the Humvee. "Don't worry, boss, I'll lay 'em down if they try anythin' at all."


The convoy slows some and approaches the speaker, still absorbed in the crowd. "You boys ready?" Ryia asks, doing one last check on her own weapon and tech. systems. A quick scan of the crowd shows most are armed, though primitively. Our mounted HMGs will rip through countless numbers of them if unleashed, but there are still an overwhelming amount of them.


"Remember, don't fire until fired upon." It's a last warning, but she wants it to be clear that they have permission to fire if aggressed upon. "Here goes." She mutters to herself as she opens the passenger side door, rifle brandished. Marcus and two others from the Humvee in the back also step out, and the four of them approach the speaker slowly on foot now.
 
"Ey boss, crowd's getting restless."


Poet looked at the crowd, some had conventional weapons, others...not so conventional. The soldiers clicked off their safeties and waited, each locked on to one civilian. A voice came through a humvee, didn't really help.


Poet got back on the mic.


"Favian! It'd be best to get to wherever you're going, now! We're rea-"


Poet stopped when he heard an Indian accent made itself heard, the crowd quieted. He made his way to a side door, pulled a soldier back and took his spot...there he was. Trying to rally up everybody to fight the big bad UGA...he raised his fist...Poet raised his rifle...the solders followed suit.


Squirt tapped Poet on the shoulder.


"Boss...think about what happens if you kill the guy, people go crazy, people go violent. If you want him dealt with...you'll have to do it discreetly....and uh...put the incendiary grenade away...would rather not burn alive."


Poet hadn't realized he was gripping an incendiary grenade, he clipped it to his belt.


Next time I see you...I'm gonna watch you burn...


Poet called to the pilots.


"Keep on those humvees! I want us 10 meters behind, nothing more , nothing less!"


"Sir...Favian and a group are stepping out...confronting that guy."


Poet yelled at the pilots again.


"Keep on those 4 soldiers, give us clear shots in case anything goes bad!"
 
Raiden saw four UGA members step out of a humvee and start approaching the Indian member from before. "This guy's gonna get himself shot." Air support for the UGA circled overhead. When Raiden looked for the Molotov holder, he noticed he was now on the roof with many others. "What the hell is he doing?" Raiden asked himself. Raiden looked through his sight of his gun, still aimed at the man, and noticed that the man and the others that accompanied him where wearing FWF patches. Raiden remembered he wasn't wearing his. "Don't do it brother." The man was starting to light a Molotov, his attention toward the four UGA that approached the Indian man. "Don't..." Raiden clicked the rifle safety off.
 

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