Raising the Conflict
By: Aaron D. Keeling
October 3rd, 1994. 9:43 P.M.
In the darkness of the night small rebel band crawled their way towards the American bunker. Close enough now the rebels heard the loud chatter of the American Rangers, chatting away, covering the small noises the rebels just happened to make. Looking across the bunker the rebels on the other side of the bunker signaled they were ready. Quickly jumping up the rebels charged into the bunker, firing off short bursts from their AK-47s. Searching the bunker Ibrahim spied upon a cowering Ranger in the corner of the area holding a sheet of paper tightly to his chest. Pulling out his pistol, Ibrahim took aim at the fearful Ranger, and then felt the kick of the pistol on his hand.
Reaching down he picked up the sheet and read.
'It's a cold night here in Aqtau, Kazakhstan. The Global Liberation Army's forces have a strong hold on this area. Every night I lie here and wonder if I'll ever make it home in time to see little Anna's 5th birthday. My commander keeps telling us that we'll be home and the war over any day now. I have some faith in his words but it seems to me that no matter how many of their men we kill they manage to find another man to kill themselves for a cause not worth fighting. I only have one last thing to say is that I…'
"I cannot believe this American; he honestly had faith in winning this war." Ibrahim grumbled in disgust, "Hey Marzug, come look at this letter the American filth wrote."
"All right," Marzug stands and begins to walk over to Ibrahim. Suddenly a crack of a thunder caused Marzug to spin furiously around.
"Damn it! American sniper," those last two words were more than enough to awaken the rest of the band of rebels along with their AK-47s. "Come on! We need to find that American," After saying this, two sergeants climbed out of the back of the bunker, then crawled to find the sniper. The near endless sound of their AK-47s slowly died away with each crack of thunder until the complete band of fighters stop firing all together. Two G.L.A. sergeants climb into the bunker dragging the kicking body of the sniper. "So you are the fool who killed Marzug."
"I guess I am," stated the American with a deep southern drawl.
"Well for killing a G.L.A. officer you shall be killed. But first do you have any meaningless last requests?"
"Well I only have two questions, the first is who killed that man over there," where the American pointed was to the corpse of the man who Ibrahim found the letter on, "And the second one is was that your buddy that I killed?"
"I will answer those ridiculous questions," Ibrahim sat down in look the sniper in the eye, "I was the one who killed that man, and no that man you killed was not a 'buddy' of mine as you put it, he was my younger brother."
The sniper looked up at Ibrahim with eyes of true blue, "Well this looks like an eye for an eye, that man you killed was my brother. Now it looks like we're even."
"Get this scum out of my sight! I want the most horrid form of punishment to be inflicted on him," Ibrahim demanded.
"Commander, do you wish to be alone so you may mourn over, your brother's death?" enquired one of his sergeants.
"No, I do believe I will feel better knowing that the murderous scum is being butchered so that we may feed him to the dogs. Our next attack will show the Americans and the Chinese that our courage will be seen by all, that our way is true, and that our cause will lead the world on the one path to freedom! But for now we all should get some rest."
October 4th, 1994. 4:32 P.M.
"What do you mean he escaped?" Ibrahim demanded to the private.
"Well I was going to change posts with one of his guards but when I got there the door was wide open and their throat's were slit," the private managed to blurt out.
"It seems like there is nothing we can do. For now."
October 4th 1994. 12:16 P.M.
Ibrahim walked over to a crate, climbed onto it and began to shout, "Today! We march onto Segondi so we may free it of China's hand! Now move into marching formation!"
Very few of the rebels grumbled at this order, the rest however stood up, dusted themselves off, and began to climb out of their stronghold. "Those of you, who do not wish to come along with us on our march, go out and collect water for tonight," commanded another officer, "You two privates go ahead of us and scout the path for about a mile out. Report to Captain Ibrahim if you find anyone." An hour after the privates left one of them returned running toward Ibrahim.
"Sir! Up the path I found a messenger with a letter for you, he was wounded so Private Burhan stayed to treat him," the private stated.
"Understood, but where is this letter for me?"
"I have it right here for you sir." Captain Ibrahim took the letter from the weary private's hands, and began to read.
October 3rd 1994,
'Captain, first off you may be wondering why we did not send you this message over the radio, but we fear the Americans may be listening in on our radios. I have decided to aid you in your fight for south-west Kazakhstan. In three days your aid will arrive which will be ten Scorpion tanks, fifteen Technicals, twenty more rebels and rocket troopers, and a single truck loaded down with a high-explosive bio-bomb. I hope, with these units you may take the city of Segondi.'
Sincerely, General Fayyad.
Ibrahim turned about to face the rest of his troops, "Men today we have received wonderful news! I have word from General Fayyad himself that we are going to receive reinforcements within five days! With these reinforcements we will be able to take the city of Segondi and defend it against the global oppressors," the rebels began to cheer a scream of hope so loud that it would cause the southern rebel cry to hide itself from the world.
October 6th 1994. 9:24 A.M.
Ibrahim awaked to the sound of the convoy screeching to a stop, along with its escort, in front of the G.L.A.'s bunker. Noisily the rebels began to unload all of the convoy's contents. "Wonderful. Simply wonderful," Ibrahim said in amazement. Standing before him was the greatest hero to the G.L.A. was the one and only Jarmen Kell. The way he stood showed his character, he seemed to have over whelming convenience, also the way his eyes seemed to survey everything showing that he had more combat experience then all of the rebels here combined, "Jarmen welcome to our humble outpost. But what made you decide to come here?"
"I decided to go where help for the cause was needed. Good thing we got here with these men. The men that you had could not even make into the city gates," Jarmen noted. "The Chinese have made check points at every road into the city; each post has at least ten Red Guards, two of their Battlemaster Tanks, and most likely a Dragon Tank."
"Hm, well tomorrow we begin out movement to Segondi. Those damned Chinese will never know what hit them."
October 7th 1994. 9:45 A.M.
"Well sir, it's been nice knowing you," Ibrahim told the truck driver.
Chuckling lightly "Well someone has to deliver the mail. I am just glad I get to work of the G.L.A.'s postal service," as he said this, the driver undid his parking break and began to drive to the Chinese check point.
"Do you honestly think this will work Jarmen?"
"Of course! I thought of it," he bellowed. As the driver began to pick up speed a Red Guard noticed the truck.
He hollered "止步不前!" as he stuck out his hand in defiance. This action only made the driver go even faster. "Halt I say! Halt!" The truck continued moving until it was too late for the Chinese to react. As it crashed into a Battlemaster Tank the whole area burst into flame spilling the lethal toxin into the nearby streets. Those men lucky enough to survive the blast were slowly killed by the anthrax with in the area.
"Damn! One Battlemaster survived the blast," shouted Jarmen as he raised his rifle, with the very same eyes that were used to survey Ibrahim's men turned into a cold, merciless, gaze which seemed to be able to cut though the driver's very soul. Then a single shot rang out stopping the Battlemaster in its tracks. "Come on we have to take shelter in one of those buildings before their reinforcements get here!" As they moved into a parking garage the continuous roar of thunder signaled the passing of Chinese MiGs. When the thunder finished they began to move the Scorpions into their position between the buildings.
October 7th 1994. 10:23 A.M.
As the Chinese reinforcements rounded the curve one Battlemaster stopped after a sound of thunder came once again from Jarmen's rifle. "Find where that shot came from, now!" yelled a Chinese officer as a second bullet found its way between his eyes. Flame spat from a Battlemaster's barrel ramming a shell into the garage taking a wall out with it. As the Battlemaster moved forward two mighty roars of thunder came from each side completely demolishing the Battlemaster as it passed an alleyway. Another officer cried out moments before another of Jarmen's bullets found its way to his head.
"Retreat," shouted a third officer. As two Battlemasters rounded the corner they just came from two more roars of thunder cried out, taking out the two Battlemasters with its cry.
"Throw down you weapons and exit the vehicles and we will allow you to live," demanded Ibrahim. A single cry of never came from the Chinese troops as yet another Battlemaster went up in flames. The cry was soon drowned out by the continual sound of the rebels AK-47s and Scorpion barrels until no one stood in the street other than a few rebels looting from the corpses of the fallen Chinese. Suddenly a new sound filled the area, it was like someone had taken a scimitar and was continually slashing it though the air. The looters looked up for the source of the sound just as it was too late, an American Comanche that was hovering over the battlefield, opened up it machine gun at those rebels. "Someone with a R.P.G. shoot that b*****d down!" as the rocket trooper began to take a man within the Comanche noticed him, aimed his own rifle at him, killing him with the same ability as Jarmen showed. "Get away from the windows! Hurry!"
When the gunman from the helicopter noticed the rebels had begun to hide he grabbed a small box, pushed his finger down on it in several places, and threw it upon the roof. Just as the helicopter began to move out of the area, an abrupt noise caused the roof come crashing down on the floor under it. As the helicopter flew by Ibrahim saw a man within it smiling and waving at him, it was the very same man who escaped being killed by his rebels. "Men we need to advance into the city, those Americans will be back, but that time they will have a lot more help." Ibrahim ordered.
As the rebel band press further into the city the Chinese were unable to hold them back. "These Chinese make taking out tanks more fun than annoyance," Jarmen chuckled. As it nears the end point of the day the band found another garage for the night.
October 8th 1994. 7:43 A.M.
"Wake up Captain Ibrahim! You have an important message from General Fayyad on the radio," Corporal Nafi' reported.
As Ibrahim made it closer to the Radar Van his grief began to grow within him at the thought of the General taking back the very troops that allowed him to take this part of the city. Walking into the van, with the grief overwhelming him, he was barely able to grab the receiver. "Captain Ibrahim reporting as ordered General," he clearly stated over the out dated, over rated radio.
"Captain, I have wonderful news for you. The Chinese have given up their hold on your sector, and given it to us. Now before you say anything you and your squad are to report to the southern outskirts of the city to govern over a little project we are working on. Also have your men start getting used to calling you major. Now this project is on the improvement of anthrax. A new substance called anthrax beta."
Ibrahim could not believe his own ears. The improvement of anthrax would be of great help to the G.L.A. and he was given command over it. "General, we will be there as soon as possible."
"Good to hear it my men and I will be coming to replace your squad for the defending of your sector. General Fayyad, over and out."
October 8th 1994. 12:21 P.M.
As Ibrahim neared the partly constructed G.L.A. base he began to notice the Stinger Sites built in an almost arch surrounding the compound. Each Stinger Site had three walls of piled sandbags, with camouflage netting hanging above the complete bunker. Within the Stinger there were three men each armed with their own R.P.G. ready to fire at any enemy that decided to come their way. Within the compound over worked slaves were forced to begin converting buildings in the area into barracks and the anthrax testing buildings. Few of the captured Chinese and American scientists were already at work making the new toxin. As Ibrahim neared the Command Center along with Jarmen Kell, the guards began to move towards them as if they were planning ..ping them, instead they came up greeted them a escorted them into the Center showing them where Ibrahim's office would be. "Well it looks like it is the land of milk and honey for us," Ibrahim stated calmly just a sudden burst of heat knocked him and Jarmen face-down onto the floor. Jarmen with almost cat-like reflexes caught himself in mid-fall, whipped out his rifle, searching for what had caused the explosion. When Ibrahim gotten himself up he began to reach for his own rifle as his arm was jerked back by Jarmen.
"Major! We must leave now," shouted Jarmen moments before an American soldier peered though the gapping hole of the Command Center. A bullet shortly found its way into the young American, whipping him around before falling upon the dirt. Another blast of heat came from the front of the building as another shell rammed into the wall. "Follow me, I know where we can escape," ordered Jarmen. After passing of near endless maze of hallways they came to a door marked with "Storage Room". Upon entering a guard came as if from nowhere grabbing them and leading them into the dark Tunnel Network.
October 8th 1994. 12:52 A.M.
As Ibrahim emerged from the Tunnel Network, he turned and faced his mighty base now in ruin. Stinger Sites were pyre remnants of their former selves, with fires still within refusing to die out. As he surveyed the base a Crusader Tank fired another shell into the Command Center. All seemed lost for the new anthrax until; a faint glimmer of hope arrives on the eastern hill. Twenty Scorpions took aim on the American Tanks but, before they could fire a pillar of light fell upon those at the end of the column. Just as if the pillar had a mind of its own, it began to move down the column leaving the once strong tanks it passed over in to molten slag. Once it engulfed the column it left as silently as it came. "Come on Major! We need to move now," Jarmen hollered as he began to run southward, away from the base.
"What was the light? And how can it be stopped," inquired Ibrahim.
"That light was made from an American Particle Cannon. The only way to stop it from coming again is to destroy the cannon itself. There must be one within the city; they can only shoot so far."
As they ran across the stretch of land between the base and city the continual beating noise came again. Instead of a Comanche attacking them a Chinook appeared carrying a load of supplies. "Jarmen, I have a plan to get rid of that cannon."
October 9th 1994. 9:32 A.M.
As the soft thumping of the Chinook arrived over head and attached itself to the large crate hiding twenty rebels within. The rebels inside were dressed in average civilian clothes, as the helicopter acceded, the rebels began to jerk around from being over weighted on one side of the crate. Soon afterward the thumb of landing relived the rebels until the sound of nails being pried loose filled the crate. As an American peered in to check the cargo four of the rebel jumped almost reaching for their weapons, "Hey Captain. Looks like we have some men hiding this crate. What should we do with them?"
"Well I dunno," the captain peered inside the crate stared at the rebels and finally ask. "Why ya'll try to get in our base?"
"Well," Ibrahim started before any of his men could begin. "The G.L.A. just captured out sector of the city in which we lived in. We helped some of the American solders get information on what was happening in their base. Well, they found out and we thought it would be safe here."
"Well, I'm not allowed to do this but, I'm going to let you stay the night here. Tomorrow though you'll have to find your own safety" he stated just as he began to walk off. "Let's go Sergeant, nothin' to see there."
"All right get ready for this! Have all weapons ready to fire, and do not show yourselves, unless you have to, before the signal," as they exited the crate, Jarmen and Ibrahim went their own way. Not a single report of an AK sounded before the signal came. Then a truck came down the road towards the American base suddenly jerked across the land between the road and their base colliding into a Crusader Tank engulfing the area with fire. Men screamed in pain as the anthrax that spilled onto the ground slowly inched its way toward them.
Lights came on within the Barracks moments before a rocket flew into its corner wall collapsing half of the building trapping those within. Men from anther Barracks ran out to their Humvees just as Jarmen's bullets knocked him flat. A single Comanche began to take of just as a rocket raced into it side. Finally an explosion from two of the Cold Fusion Reactors killed the American's power. "Come on! We need to get to the cannon," Jarmen commanded as they ran across the battle field taking out Americans as they found them. Standing outside of the cannon were two G.L.A. soldiers, eager to kill another soul.
After entering the cannon Ibrahim was filled with an overwhelming emotion that took him to his knees. "Never again will the Americans try to stop our cause with this cannon."
"Not if I have anything to do 'bout it!" Ibrahim and Jarmen turned to face this new man with an M-16 pointed at them. "Put your hands up now or you die," the man demanded. As they lifted their hands he let the gun fall down to his waste, grabbed a knife from his belt and took their weapons.
"Who are you?" Ibrahim remarked as the man slipped the AK from his shoulders.
"My name? My name is Coronel Burton," standing as a full six foot, two inches, Burton towered over Ibrahim, his muscles looked as if he stolen them from a rhino. "Well, Jarmen you look different from last time we met. I should have killed you then after that fight."
"Well if you think you have got better why don't we have another go?"
"All right, stand up if you think you can do it," Burton stated as he began to remove his flight jacket. Jarmen stood up, walked in front of Burton and jabbed him in the gut. Chuckling "Did you honestly think that would hurt?"
"No, but I know this will," he said as his fist went into Burton's nose. Burton lost his balance as Jarmen continually jabbed his fists into Burton's gut. As Burton regained himself Jarmen reached into Burton's flight jacket, pulled out a Colt, "This is where it ends Burton!"
Chuckling lightly Burton remarked, "No. This is where this fights ends," as he lowered his arm a small detonator fell into his hand. "I have enough C-4 on me to blow this building sky-high. Now I'm not afraid to do it. Lower your gun and I will take me leave." Reluctantly Jarmen lowered the pistol, "That's what I thought," he stated as he backed out of the building and ran off into the night.
"Damn that coward, he can't finish what he started," Jarmen started as a high pitch beat filled the room. "We have to get out of here, now!" Jarmen demanded as he rushed for his AK-47. Ibrahim forgetting his own AK bolted into the night with Jarmen. As they rounded the corner of the end strip of the American Air Field a sudden burst of heat threw them onto the ground. Looking back the once powerful Particle Cannon laid in ruin along with the rest of the American base. Several reports from an M-16 followed by screams of the rebels being killed marked Burton's leave on the area. A new sound filled Ibrahim's ears as General Fayyad's Marauder Tanks came over the hill and descended onto the pyre that was an American base. Fayyad looking out of his own tank surveyed the base until his gaze fell on Jarmen and Ibrahim.
"Well, well, well. I'm glad I promoted you to Major. I needed a man who would think the same way I do, and can get the job done with the numerous odds against him. I do have a question for you Major, would you happen to know who this woman is?" As he asked this, he turned about and gestured to two armed rebels dragging a Chinese woman. The woman was wearing a complete leather suit, how with holes in the pants showing how she had been dragged. Her hair barely made it down to her shoulders, her eyes seem like they could only show a single emotion, an extreme hatred for all the G.L.A. has done. "She has been following for a good while now, judging from the notes she had on her we also think she's a Black Lotus. I think we can trade here off to the Chinese for another sector."
"What if they do not want her back in exchange for land?"
"Well if not, I am going to sell her to some one; I do not care what happens to her after that." Looking back down to the Black Lotus Ibrahim saw her eyes change from hatred, to complete fear.
October 10th 1994. 12:34 P.M.
The sun beat down on Ibrahim and his General while they stood under the flag of truce, on the border of their sector and the Chinese sector. The Chinese Infantry General Tao walked up to the flag along with his aid, greeting the rebels. "Why do you wish to speak with me gentlemen? I hope it's for a term of surrender."
"No General, we wish to ask for a trade," Fayyad started. "We have one of your Black Lotus agents within our camp along with the information she gained from watching us. We will trade you her and the information for the southern sector of Segondi."
"Never! We would rather be shot than to give you scum another sector," Tao shouted, he turned about and hurried off with his aid trailing behind.
"He did not do the trade."
"Too bad, looks like I will have some money after all."
October 10th 1994. 5:47 P.M.
"Evening soldiers. You maybe are wondering why I gathered you here today. Well I am here to sell this fine woman," Fayyad shouted as he pulled the blanket of the cage holding the Black Lotus. The rebels began shouting over her like a pack to dogs after a steak. "The bidding starts at one hundred dirhams!"
As the bidding continued to raise higher and higher Ibrahim felt a sadness pile on top of him and grow until. "I will buy her for one thousand dirhams!" Silence filled the room after Ibrahim shouted this.
"All right, one thousand going once. Twice. Sold!" Ibrahim walked up to pull the Black Lotus off the stage. As he passed the General he whispered, "Have fun tonight."
When Ibrahim got to his tent, he unlocked the cage and whispered to the Black Lotus. "I have not got the time to explain but, I will free you for the information to get.
Thinking for a moment, she began talking to herself in Chinese, then looked up and stated, "You got a deal." Getting out of the cage she dusted herself off and gave Ibrahim the papers. "I'm glad one G.L.A. officer has some decency." She began to walk off but, turned back asking, "Why did you do this?"
"Well," he started as he began looking back into his past. "Before the G.L.A. freed Iraq, I had owed a dept with our leader. Having nothing to sell in order to repay him, I had to sell my three daughters into the same bondage you would have been in." Looking at Ibrahim with a newly found respect, she turned about and ran off into the night.
October 11th 1994. 6:42 A.M.
Exiting his tent Ibrahim looked out to the East, seeing Fayyad and his Marauder Tanks doing training procedures in the sands a couple miles out. A soft roar sounded Ibrahim's ears, looking up at the source there was a small green line in the sky, with a trail of smoke behind it, "Must be some sort of spaceship the Americans have coming down." As the roar grew so did the green line along with the smoke trail. With its growth the Marauder Tanks still hadn't began to take notice. The line now had grown to shape out a missile bearing the Chinese emblem on it. As the roar overwhelmed his ears the missile came down on the Marauder Tanks. With its impact, a burst a light blinded the camp with more intensity than the sun ever dreamed of showing. With the light dying down a cloud of smoke came up from the impact zone to form a mushroom.
Jarmen ran out from his own tent "What on Earth happened?" Looking at the mushroom cloud answered his question.
One of Ibrahim's aids ran up, "Sir! There is some one on the radio for you." Moving toward the Radar Van Ibrahim stared at the still growing cloud of the nuclear missile. Stepping into the over worked van he grabbed the receiver, "This is Major Ibrahim."
A familiar rang out over the radio with a heavy Chinese accent, "Your welcome Major, I made the missile miss," then the line when dead.
"Major, we found General Fayyad's will," claiming the same aid. "It names you all control of every G.L.A. soldier in our area of the city. What do you plan on doing first sir?"
"I plan on holding a rally in our sector."
October 11th 1994. 10:28 A.M.
Standing on a freshly made stage in the middle of the G.L.A.'s sector in front of a large mass of men and women. Shouting out at the top of his lungs, "Who is it that has oppressed you for many years?" Some of the well placed rebels in the crowd shouted 'Those Chinese' while others shouted 'The filthy Americans.' "Who has claimed to help you by 'sending' you food and water?" Another rebel shouted 'No one!' "They get the supplies you need in their bases of oppression and say to each other, 'Those people do not need these supplies today, we will just use it for ourselves today.' Then they decide that since they have selfishly wasted those supplies you need! They post on their news that the G.L.A. shot down planes carrying those resources! Are you going to believe those who said they would help you and then decide to go against you?"
This time instead of few of the rebels shouting, the whole crowd roared a thunderous 'No!' "Who wishes to fight these backstabbers?" The crowd now roared a thunderous cheer for the G.L.A. Jumping off the platform Ibrahim ran to the Technicals, opened up the doors, and hollered "AK-47s for everyone!" The crowd seeing the weapons ran for the trucks, each being given an AK along with three ammo clips. "On to the Chinese Air Force Base," he yelled, pointing down the street.
Moving down the street, the angry mod began flipping cars in their way. After moving down the street for a block ten Red Guards blocked the way down the street. "You are to throw down your weapons, and turn back to where you came from," a Chinese officer ordered the mob. The mob, however took aim at the Chinese soldiers, and mowing them down with a short burst from their AKs. Continuing their advance to the Chinese Air Force Base two Battlemasters crawled their way around the curve as a man from the mod ran up to one, jumped on top and threw a Molotov cocktail down the hatch. The screams of the Chinese men were drowned out as the second Battlemaster belched flame at the first Battlemaster. A sound of thunder shot out as Jarmen killed the crew of the last Battlemaster from the roof of a nearby building.
With the Air Force Base in sight the mod began to run to its fences only to be stopped by two Chinese vehicles, with a large gun turret on top. Aiming at the mob the tanks opened up fire on the mob slowly taking its members out. As they continued to fire the rate of their slaughter, the mounted guns shot faster and faster until it seemed to look as if flame was spurting out. The thunderous roar of their guns fell silent as the large mob, laid in ruin.
Running from the strange Chinese tanks, Ibrahim grabbed Jarmen. "The mob has been taken out!" he managed to burst out as Jarmen began running along side him. More thunder rose as the Chinese took notice of them and started their machine of death. A jolt of pain ran down Ibrahim's leg, launching him to the ground, where the darkness slowly engulfed around him.
October 12th 1994, 12:43 P.M.
As the light rushed in on Ibrahim’s unsuspecting eyes, the world began to show itself around him. Large steel bars shot up from the floor, holding him within the small cell. Looking down at his leg, the pant leg had been ripped off, and where the hole that had in his leg, there was a neat little pattern of stitches. Trying to stand, Ibrahim began hearing the soft steps of combat boots, on the cold cement floor.
“Well, well looks like we meet again, Ibrahim,” looking up at the man, Ibrahim’s face froze with terror when he remembered who that man was.
“Damn you Burton,” he cried.
“Hey that wasn’t a nice way to thank the man who saved you,” he stated. “Think what would have happened if those Communist caught you.” A chill shot up Ibrahim’s spine at the thought of being in the hands of the Chinese. His thoughts were lost when a noise outside attracted his attention. Looking out his window there was a Ranger with his rifle aimed at a man.
“Hey, Coronel! I think I found a G.L.A. spy,” the Ranger shouted. As Burton began walking out of the cell room the Ranger said to the man. “Looks like I’ve got you scum.”
“No, I think I got you,” the man replied as he pulled a switch from his sleeve. With the press of the button, the man burst into a fiery explosion. The blast knocked Ibrahim into the wall of his cell. Trying to stand back up from the blast another wave of heat knocked him down. The sounds of combat boots filled the room as G.L.A. Rebels came inside. One of the Rebels came out of the mass and unlocked the door. Stepping into the cell was Jarmen, “Looks like you need a hand,” he stated, trying to hold in laughter.
Holding tight to Jarmen as he limped out he asked, “How did you know where I was?”
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