Snippet #1937196

Farin nodded silently at Mack's words but continued to stare at the camp. She was more comfortable going solo, and being followed into a foxhole by a stranger had her slightly on edge. It didn't help when she realized someone was creeping up on them. She turned just as their demolitions guy crawled up. He immediately begun to discuss traps and the likelihood of getting their legs blasted off by a minefield.

Farin only rolled her eyes at the painful cynicism. It was great that their demo wasn't careless, but the paranoia was grating... "Take a glance at the nests. The guns are layed wrong. The muzzles can't depress low enough to cover the ground just in front of the positions, and none of the weapons offer enfilading fire. Chances are people this disorganized lack the logistics to buy hundreds of mines, and any they had would be best used along with barb wire to funnel us into their minefields."

"If you're overly concerned." She mused. "You can drag your arse through the shit in the ditches by the main road until you get close enough to frag the MGs. But that's why we're waiting on tube support." The comments were followed by a tense silence as the other two considered her words, and potentially rebuttals for them. Farin was terrible at reading people. She almost felt relief when Victor's voice came over the cheap headsets plugged into their radios.

"Farin. Get your arse back to staging area stat. Out."

All of them shared the same line, so Mack and Jens heard it too. Farin looked at the mercs and shrugged neutrally. "Duty calls. Wonder what fuck-up he needs me for now...." She climbed out of the foxhole and started heading back, hugging the ground to avoid outlining against the horizon.