The room was dark. Plastic chairs scattered across one half of the room, and the other a canvas drape reflecting green and white lights from a projector machine. The light barely illuminated the room's occupants; two men and two women clad in dark tactical clothing with what seemed like pockets and velcro straps running all over, but excluding the proper name tags, badges, stars and stripes that reflect actual military.
The silhouette of a man is drawn from the light bouncing off the canvas he was standing directly next to. He seemed to be in a full suit, probably even a tie.
"Gentlemen" he spoke.
"We received intel there is another team in the vicinity of Boston City. They appear to be a potential threat to our allies."
The photos on the canvas switches between portraits of 4 men, obviously military. Every time the slide runs between photos, the room falls into complete darkness. And as the next photo appeared, the faces of the two men and women were lit again.
"Your orders are to neutralize all threat to our allies."
Heads turned to face each other, no particular expression was given.
"You leave in 0600."
Everyone got up and left the room. There was less than 3 hours until 0600.
We returned to the cross junction. I was busy filling my empty magazines up with fresh bullets and strapping them around my storage belt. Empty shells scattered all around, some managed to scar the tarmac road a little with the heat generated when they combusted within the gun barrels. On the west junction water was still being drained out through the gutters by the curb. They were reflecting rainbow-coloured stains. Kheez's petrol perhaps.
Crucist was just exiting a building from the far left edge of the east junction, holding what appeared to be scavenged ammunition and a black rifle. As he came closer we managed to catch the make of the rifle he had with him.
"Dude that's the same as mine," Night Cat exclaimed. No mistake, it was the Black Arrow.
"I didn't know this gun was mass-produced," Kheez asked.
"Neither did I," Night Cat shrugged as he grabbed the gun from Crucist for a closer inspection. He laid it down on the ground and took it apart piece by piece.
"It's not the same as mine. This is stock. Standard Issue."
"Which means..." I turned to look at Pyut.
"I don't know. This is the closest I've ever come to discovering who they are."
"They're our own? Then why would they be out to hunt us down?" Night Cat was already getting furious. He then turned to Pyut.
"You said 'who they are'. What do you mean by that?"
There was silence. We could already hear an angry mob of monsters' wail ricocheting off the walls of surrounding buildings. There was an unsettling mood in the air, but this was no time for interrogation. We all needed to get ready for the next wave of attacks. Quietly everyone took our spots, occasional eye-contacts thrown around between the guys followed by muted movement of lips. Pyut was more interested in planting claymores up north.
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