"Shit, those assholes up top are probably sleepingfortably in the big cities right now, enjoying themselves and eating, while we''re dragged into a foreign country to deal with this mess..."


    "Goddamn it, watch your mouth. It''s not just us here... don''t you know the military police have been patrolling the base? Is themunication system really down?"


    "Do you think I''d be talking like this if I didn’t know that? Hey, hey, the deputy squad leader ising. Keep quiet."


    Late September, Massachusetts, Shale Wildlife Refuge, Rainy Weather.


    While Florida, hundreds of kilometers to the south, was enjoying clear skies without a cloud in sight, heavy rain clouds had gathered above Massachusetts since dawn, and the sky, weighed down by the thick clouds, began pouring down rain.


    Below, Russian airborne troops—specifically the 162nd Guards Reconnaissance Battalion—entered near the Shale Wildlife Refuge. Their route was as horrendous as their reputation, as expected from a reconnaissance unit.


    Though the United States was known as and of plenty, a forest here was no easier to breach than anywhere else. But if they followed the main road, it was only a matter of time before their heads were blown off.


    The difort caused by the terrain and weather was something anyone would agree was terrible, but if asked whether it was worse than dying, the answer would obviously be "no."


    Still, even if someone said, "This route is better than dying," the soldiers of the reconnaissance battalion probably wouldn''t agree.


    Especially if they had some idea of what other units were going through.


    "Quit whining, you bastards. If there are no problems with the reconnaissance results, we’ll reach Pittsfield in two days. It’s a small cepared to a big city, but it’s still big enough for apany to rest without issue."


    "But sir, didn’t the fat guys from Boston just drink wine and rx?"


    "You idiots wouldn’t know. Wine parties in a city reduced to rubble by missile strikes? If themand center there heard you, they’d have kicked your helmet in. Quit talking nonsense and focus on the mission."


    "Understood... No issues in the reconnaissance."


    "In five minutes, we move out. Our objective is a department store about 8 km to the west. If possible, we’ll resupply there and defend the area until the 743rd Guards Signal Battalion and the tankpany from the brigade arrive."


    "Yes, sir."


    Rustling.


    The waterproof tarps were set up in preparation for the rain, but in the makeshift shelter, water was leaking everywhere. This wasn’t a properly built hideout, and the water dripped onto our clothes.


    The sky was thick with clouds, blocking even the smallest sliver of sunlight, and beneath them, soldiers in camouge—matching the forest’s colors—slowly stood up with gloomy expressions.@@novelbin@@


    The sound of breaking branches, water droplets hitting leaves, and the voices of soldiers mixed together. A little less than a hundred heavily armed soldiers moved with expressionless faces, continuously checking their surroundings as they advanced.


    <ul>


    <li>"Shit, we’re under attack by Tank Company 3rd toon crossing Dalton! We’ve taken an unknown type of attack, and the turret armor has been breached! This is an attack that ADS can''t stop!"</li>


    </ul>


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