Jethro Dunbar
Jethro sat at the head of the table, looking down at his four lieutenants. Two sat on each side. All five in the room were in their late 30s, who had spent their lives working on the ports or in the printing presses within Kingsland. That, coincidentally, was the reason why they were sat together. Brought together by their hatred of Governor Belgrass and their wish to oust him, by any means necessary. And for that, they looked to Jethro, their former union leader-turned-warlord. He had gained notoriety among Belgrass' security forces, but not really any outside of Kingsland, at least not to his knowledge.
"Gentlemen, I trust we are doing well," Jethro began. "We cannot meet for too long for I fear Belgrass' men will be nearby. So I will make it short."
He took a deep breath.
"Non-stop, for the past month, we have been attacking outposts, convoys, headquarters, anywhere he thinks he can hide his devious plans from us. But, fear not, we will find every last hiding spot and purge them from it. And soon, brothers, we will take Kingston, by any means necessary."
Orson Stein
Orson lay in the brush, cradling his AK-47. In front of him was the dirt road the military convoy was going to be rolling down in under three minutes. He was told that this particular convoy would be carrying weaponry that would be beneficial to the cause. The nine other fighters were dotted along the road, armed with similar weapons. At the first shot, the attack would begin. Orson was steeling his nerves, bracing himself. He made sure his weapon was fully loaded, and nothing was jammed. The last thing he wanted was to be caught out by a highly trained force of heavily armed soldiers.
It's just like all the other times, he thought to himself. They stand for what you hate. They drove you out of a job. They drove you to this.
As he closed his eyes and prepared himself, he heard the engines humming in the distance. Orson opened his eyes and saw the headlights slowly coming towards him. There looked to be about three vehicles. Two jeeps sporting turrets, both manned, and a truck. Orson assumed that was where he was going to find the items he'd been sent for. He pulled the balaclava further down over his face, and waited. It felt like an eternity, but, in reality, the convoy was soon to be upon Orson and his comrades. And the shooting was about to begin.
Jethro Dunbar
Jethro looked among his men, smiling reassuringly. The last thing he needed was for them to get cold feet just as they were getting the advantage over Belgrass' forces. He opened his mouth to speak again, but as he did so, a young member of his militia burst in, panting.
"Sir, sir," he said. "Our scouts are reporting that Belgrass has sent an emissary to discuss terms!"
"Well then," Jethro answered. "Bring him to me and we shall discuss... terms."
Thomas Kaufman
Thomas watched as the first jeep slowed to a halt, after seeing the deer that had been dragged in the way to act as a roadblock. Obviously, it was going to raise some suspicion, but it was almost midnight, and Thomas and his fellow fighters were almost invisible due to the poor visibility. Thomas' men were not to fire until he did, and Thomas was seconds from doing so until he saw the four extra soldiers hop out the back of the truck and go to try and move the deer.
Thomas lay in the ditch, waited for them to go past and took aim at the driver of the truck. He exhaled, making sure he'd got the perfect shot lined up. One wrong shot could get everybody killed. He put the thought out of his mind. As long as the truck stayed still, his payload was secure. And that's what drove him to do it. Thomas pulled the trigger and fired around six shots at the driver's side of the cab. One was bound to hit the driver.
His fellow NDF members got the idea and opened fire as well. The soldiers grouped around the deer were dropped almost instantly, but Thomas wasn't paying attention to that. As soon as he got the truck driver, he focused his aim on the first turret, and emptied the rest of the clip in the gunner's direction. He smiled as the gunner fell off the back and into a heap on the dirt. Thomas reloaded and advanced towards the truck, keeping an aim at the passenger side. He wasn't sure if the passenger had got out or not.
He watched as the men who had attacked the back jeep headed in the truck's direction too. They began to unload the back and carry the boxes containing the weapons in the direction of their own truck they'd stashed in the general location hours before the attack.
As Thomas rounded the corner, he saw a pair of legs stretched out. Once fully around, he saw they belonged to a bleeding soldier who had an obvious gunshot wound to the abdomen. Thomas took aim, and put him out his misery with a simple bullet to the head. As the corpse slid over onto it's side, Thomas peeked inside the cab. It's was a bloodbath. The blood coated almost every bit of the cab. Thomas looked away and joined his brothers in stealing the boxes.