The darkened sky was harsh tonight. The sunken marsh was even more
unforgiving below the feet of a tired and battered soldier. Onwards he trod,
favoring one leg slightly over the other. A soaked red bandage adorned his
right shoulder, the sleeve torn away used to secure the wound. His backpack
slung over both shoulders, causing obvious discomfort as each step caused
the backpack to rub against his bandaged wound. "Bucho, come in, Bucho, do
you hear me, over!" came a metallic voice echoing from his pack. He pressed
on, knowing that his previous efforts to reply were only futile since his
radio was damaged in the carnage before. "Bucho, do you read me, over?"
echoed his radio once more, adding to the torment.

Bucho fell to the ground, his face bathed in the soiled mud. The old words
of his drill sergeant repeating endlessly in his head "Fight, win, prevail!"
over and over it filled his head. These words suddenly accompanied by the
screams of agony and pain, as the enclosing Tesla troopers slaughtered his
battalion. Images soon followed. Bucho's face tightened, his fallen comrades
would not be forgotten for their heroic sacrifice. Again the voices ploughed
through his mind, only now, the voice of his commanding officer, "Find that
missile silo! Find it men, or there won't be anything left to fight for."
Spoke the voice buried deep inside his head.

Bucho was suddenly ripped back to reality as the unmistakable sound of a
warning siren tore through the cold wind like a howling dog on a hot summers
night. The missile silo, it had to be. He had found it at last. Adrenaline
pumped rapidly into his strained body, his burdened arms pulling him along
the mud. Atop the rise he laid prone against the cold ground, reaching into
his backpack, taking out his binoculars. As he looked through the cracked
lenses his speculations were confirmed, it was indeed the soviets missile
launching facility. Heavily guarded too. The flashing red lights reflecting
of the spattering rain, giving the silo an eerie red glow. The daunting
siren alerting all that the missile was preparing to launch, filling Bucho
with visions of a dying world if he did nothing to stop the obvious threat.

Reaching in to his backpack once more, his beacon transmitter felt cold in
his hand, yet warmly refreshing at the same time. Looking over at the base
once more, the guard dog patrol had left a small window of opportunity.
Summoning his diminishing strength, Bucho ran to the closest safety zone he
could. His feet splashing in the raining puddles, the red lights ricocheting
off the silver steel of the locator beacon. The noticeable hum of the atomic
reactors tearing away at what little silence was left. Clouds of vapours
oozing from out of the silo, as a foreign voice echoed from the speakers. A
Russian voice steadily spoke. The countdown perhaps, Bucho thought to
himself.

A burst of strength and courage coursed through Bucho as his feet took him
to where he wanted to go, the Silo. Placing the beacon by the base of the
intimidating silo, partially hidden beneath the many panels. He ran once
more, the sudden shout of barking dogs filling him with a mixture of fear
and adrenaline pushing him onwards to the ridge. Bucho's spent body unable
to carry him forwards anymore, his legs collapsing beneath him, causing him
to fall to the soaked ground. The Conscript soldier holding back the guard
dog as he approached Bucho. Uttering something in Russian at Bucho, the
conscript slowly raised his weapon. The sky flashed, the ground slowly
trembled, the skies darkened as the encroaching black clouds adorned the sky
within moments. The conscript soldier looking up, letting his guard down, he
felt the quick pain of regret as his weapon dropped to the floor, a whole in
his chest bringing him down soon after, the smoking barrel of Bucho's gun
fired once more, sending the dog to that big kennel in the sky. The skies
opened up with a fury letting the world know the power of the allied forces.
The flashing red lights of the soviet base slowly faded out by the sizzling
white flashes of lightning as the base crumbled before him. Bucho lay back
against the sloping ridge, a smile appearing across his face, the beacon
still worked after all, he thought to himself. Time for some rest, after
all, his allied friends would soon be here

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