0937
Sergeant Eduard Alvar watched the chaos unfolding inside the presidential palace with a slight scowl on his face. Members of the president’s staff and guard rushed around him frantically as if the entire world were crashing down around them. Although, to them, it probably was. The Estonian squad leader crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. His ten man squad was positioned around the palace grounds, keeping an eye on things. No one here was going to cause any trouble for him and he would have plenty of warning before something that required his attention arrived. Although, if...no, when it did happen, he would not be in any position to do anything about it. His duty was to guard the president, which as he saw it, meant essentially committing suicide.
“Sergeant.” A voice came from his personal radio.
“Yes?”
“Sir, the president is leaving.”
Eduard stood up straight and glanced around the room, as if he might see Ochoa and his entourage strolling right out the front door.
“Explain, now.” He commanded, frustration clear in his tone.
“The president said he and his men were leaving. He requested that we follow.”
“Where?”
“That was all he said, sergeant.”
Eduard closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. Ochoa, or any sane man for that matter, would either blow his own brains out and save everyone a lot of trouble, or flee. There was no point in staying at the palace, it would be seized and everyone in it likely captured or executed. Trying to hold it against and army would be suicide. Perhaps the president had a safe house somewhere, or a way to flee to safety? Either way, it had to be better than waiting here to die. He keyed his radio again and started quickly heading for the nearest door.
“Jakobson, Roman, move your fireteams to the vehicle depot now, we’re moving out.”
----
1020
“What the fuck is happening?” Eduard muttered as the high concrete walls and flying American flag of the embassy came into view through the truck’s windshield. His look of confusion turned to a slight grin when the lead vehicle of the ‘presidential motorcade’ passed through the compound’s gate, closely followed by the rest of the convoy.
“Ochoa’s found himself a fortress…” Corporal Jakobson, his second team leader, muttered from behind the wheel.
Eduard nodded, scanning the embassy grounds as the truck pulled to a stop behind the presidential limousine. He noticed the small group approaching Ochoa’s vehicle, American soldiers flanking a woman. The limousine doors opening was Eduard’s cue to dismount. He pushed the door open and leapt out before slamming the door shut and slinging his rifle over his shoulder again. The others started clambering out of the truck, filing in behind him. He stepped forward, stopping just close enough to hear words being exchanged between the president and the ambassador, but far enough away to remain uninvolved. He simply stood by, waiting to be addressed and following when the others started moving towards the building’s entrance.
Upon entering the building’s lobby, Eduard’s eyes were quickly drawn to the defenses that had been set up by the American marines. It seemed they had planned for this for some time at least. But, why hadn’t he or his own men been informed? Another one of the now defunct Valverdian government's many oversights and fuck-ups? His thoughts were interrupted by the First Sergeant’s rather colorful introduction. Eduard focused to understand him clearly, his less than perfect mastery of English only confused by the intermixed Spanish. He ran it through his head again, trying to pick out a few words when his name suddenly came up. He glanced around reflexively to his two fireteam leaders, standing on either side of him, then took a step forward, meeting the American's gaze with a stern expression.
When the marine had finished addressing him, he turned to his assistant squad leader, Junior Sergeant Roman Vesik.
“Roman, talk to the Americans and have both teams assist where they can. Make sure there is one English speaker in each pair. Jakobson, take Tarvas and Serov and find a place to put the machine gun.”
The peacekeepers had a relatively limited arsenal at their disposal. AK4 rifles, hand grenades, and a single German MG3 machine gun. Additionally, the entire squad, except for Eduard and the junior sergeant, lacked any actual combat experience. Vesik knew what he was doing, but he would be relying heavily on the marines to effectively utilize the peacekeepers in the completely foreign compound.
He turned back to the First Sergeant as the others walked away, approaching the nearest marine busy gathering some of Ochoa’s men.
“My men will help where they can. They train and fight in couples. My squad sergeant can talk to your own.” He gave a slight nod towards the junior sergeant who was talking to one of the marine corporals.
“Good. We have work to do then. Sergeant, what have we got outside the perimeter, how fucked are we exactly?" Bastion replied.
“The city is falling without resistance. We are alone, no one is stupid enough to die to save a dictator...except us.” He glanced around the room briefly. "When possible, I would like to be shown around the compound."
Sergeant Eduard Alvar watched the chaos unfolding inside the presidential palace with a slight scowl on his face. Members of the president’s staff and guard rushed around him frantically as if the entire world were crashing down around them. Although, to them, it probably was. The Estonian squad leader crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. His ten man squad was positioned around the palace grounds, keeping an eye on things. No one here was going to cause any trouble for him and he would have plenty of warning before something that required his attention arrived. Although, if...no, when it did happen, he would not be in any position to do anything about it. His duty was to guard the president, which as he saw it, meant essentially committing suicide.
“Sergeant.” A voice came from his personal radio.
“Yes?”
“Sir, the president is leaving.”
Eduard stood up straight and glanced around the room, as if he might see Ochoa and his entourage strolling right out the front door.
“Explain, now.” He commanded, frustration clear in his tone.
“The president said he and his men were leaving. He requested that we follow.”
“Where?”
“That was all he said, sergeant.”
Eduard closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He knew something like this was bound to happen eventually. Ochoa, or any sane man for that matter, would either blow his own brains out and save everyone a lot of trouble, or flee. There was no point in staying at the palace, it would be seized and everyone in it likely captured or executed. Trying to hold it against and army would be suicide. Perhaps the president had a safe house somewhere, or a way to flee to safety? Either way, it had to be better than waiting here to die. He keyed his radio again and started quickly heading for the nearest door.
“Jakobson, Roman, move your fireteams to the vehicle depot now, we’re moving out.”
----
1020
“What the fuck is happening?” Eduard muttered as the high concrete walls and flying American flag of the embassy came into view through the truck’s windshield. His look of confusion turned to a slight grin when the lead vehicle of the ‘presidential motorcade’ passed through the compound’s gate, closely followed by the rest of the convoy.
“Ochoa’s found himself a fortress…” Corporal Jakobson, his second team leader, muttered from behind the wheel.
Eduard nodded, scanning the embassy grounds as the truck pulled to a stop behind the presidential limousine. He noticed the small group approaching Ochoa’s vehicle, American soldiers flanking a woman. The limousine doors opening was Eduard’s cue to dismount. He pushed the door open and leapt out before slamming the door shut and slinging his rifle over his shoulder again. The others started clambering out of the truck, filing in behind him. He stepped forward, stopping just close enough to hear words being exchanged between the president and the ambassador, but far enough away to remain uninvolved. He simply stood by, waiting to be addressed and following when the others started moving towards the building’s entrance.
Upon entering the building’s lobby, Eduard’s eyes were quickly drawn to the defenses that had been set up by the American marines. It seemed they had planned for this for some time at least. But, why hadn’t he or his own men been informed? Another one of the now defunct Valverdian government's many oversights and fuck-ups? His thoughts were interrupted by the First Sergeant’s rather colorful introduction. Eduard focused to understand him clearly, his less than perfect mastery of English only confused by the intermixed Spanish. He ran it through his head again, trying to pick out a few words when his name suddenly came up. He glanced around reflexively to his two fireteam leaders, standing on either side of him, then took a step forward, meeting the American's gaze with a stern expression.
When the marine had finished addressing him, he turned to his assistant squad leader, Junior Sergeant Roman Vesik.
“Roman, talk to the Americans and have both teams assist where they can. Make sure there is one English speaker in each pair. Jakobson, take Tarvas and Serov and find a place to put the machine gun.”
The peacekeepers had a relatively limited arsenal at their disposal. AK4 rifles, hand grenades, and a single German MG3 machine gun. Additionally, the entire squad, except for Eduard and the junior sergeant, lacked any actual combat experience. Vesik knew what he was doing, but he would be relying heavily on the marines to effectively utilize the peacekeepers in the completely foreign compound.
He turned back to the First Sergeant as the others walked away, approaching the nearest marine busy gathering some of Ochoa’s men.
“My men will help where they can. They train and fight in couples. My squad sergeant can talk to your own.” He gave a slight nod towards the junior sergeant who was talking to one of the marine corporals.
“Good. We have work to do then. Sergeant, what have we got outside the perimeter, how fucked are we exactly?" Bastion replied.
“The city is falling without resistance. We are alone, no one is stupid enough to die to save a dictator...except us.” He glanced around the room briefly. "When possible, I would like to be shown around the compound."
