As Sunny followed Jenkins, they approached the commander's tent, a sturdy structure held together by a wooden frame. The canvas fabric was worn and frayed, with patches of dust and dirt accumulating on the surface. Every step they took sent tiny avalanches of dust cascading down from the roof, creating a miniature whirlwind that swirled around their feet.
Jenkins pushed aside the flap and gestured for Sunny to enter. As he stepped inside, Sunny's eyes adjusted to the dim light within. The air was thick with the smell of smoke, sweat, and stale air. A single lantern hung from the center pole, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
The commander, Colonel James "Hawk" Lee, a grizzled veteran with a face like worn leather, looked up from the maps spread out on a makeshift table. His piercing blue eyes, red-rimmed from fatigue, narrowed slightly as he took in Sunny's appearance. His thick, gray hair was cropped short, revealing a prominent scar above his left eyebrow.
Sunny snapped to attention, saluting the commander with a crisp, sharp movement.
"Captain Wilson, reporting as ordered, sir!" Sunny barked.
The commander nodded, his expression stern but hinting at a deep exhaustion. "At ease, Captain," he growled, his voice like a rusty gate.
Sunny relaxed, his eyes scanning the maps and documents scattered around the tent. The commander gestured to a worn, canvas chair beside the table.
"Take a seat, Captain," Colonel Lee said, his voice softening slightly.
Sunny sat, his eyes locked on the commander's face. Colonel Lee's features were etched with deep lines, carved by years of combat and hardship. His nose was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken at least once. A thin, white scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe.
The commander leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together as he regarded Sunny with a calculating gaze. "We've received intel that the enemy is holding a group of civilians hostage in a nearby village," he began, his voice low and even. "We need you to extract them, without causing any... unnecessary collateral damage."
Sunny's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the commander's words. He felt a surge of fatigue and frustration, his mind reeling with the implications of the mission.
"Sir, with all due respect," Sunny said, his voice laced with a hint of incredulity, "I just got back from the front lines. My team and I have been pushing back the enemy for days, and we're all running on fumes."
He rubbed his tired eyes, feeling the weight of his exhaustion. "My men are tired, sir. We've been living on scraps for weeks, and our rations are almost gone. We're talking canned goods from God knows when, and water that's barely fit for drinking."
Sunny's voice rose, his frustration boiling over. "We've got men with wounds that need attention, but our medic is overwhelmed. We've got others who are barely standing, but we can't afford to give them a break. And now you're telling me we've got to go on another mission?"
He shook his head, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. "I'm not sure we can do it, sir. I'm not sure we've got anything left to give."
Colonel Lee's expression remained stern, but a hint of understanding flickered in his eyes. "I know it's tough, Captain," he said, his voice firm but measured. "But we're all running low on manpower. The higher-ups are getting anxious, and we need to deliver results."
He leaned forward, his eyes boring into Sunny's. "This mission is a direct order from General Headquarters, Captain. We can't afford to say no, not now. We're stretched thin as it is, and if we don't get those civilians out, it'll be a disaster."
Sunny felt a surge of resentment, but he knew better than to argue with the commander. He nodded curtly, his mind racing with the implications of the mission.
"I understand, sir," he said, his voice tight. "But can I at least get some reinforcements? My team is barely holding together as it is."
Colonel Lee shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Captain. We're scraping the bottom of the barrel as it is. You'll have to make do with what you've got."
Sunny's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the logistics of the mission. "What about munitions, sir?" he asked, his voice firm. "What are we carrying to fight with?"
Colonel Lee's expression turned grim, and he hesitated before answering. "To be honest, Captain, we're running low on everything. We've got a few crates of 5.56mm rounds, some outdated RPGs, and a handful of grenades. That's about it."
Sunny's eyes widened in dismay. "That's all?" he asked, his voice incredulous.
Colonel Lee nodded, his face set in a grim mask. "I'm afraid so, Captain. We've been promised resupply, but it's been delayed... again. We'll have to make do with what we've got."
Sunny felt a cold dread creeping up his spine. He knew that going into a firefight with such limited resources was a recipe for disaster. But he also knew that he had no choice. He had to make it work.
Sunny stood up, his movements economical and precise. "With your permission, sir, I'll get started on planning the mission."
Colonel Lee nodded. "Very well, Captain. What's your first question?"
Sunny's eyes narrowed slightly. "How many days do we have to prepare, sir?"
Colonel Lee's expression turned grim. "You've got one day, Captain. We need this done yesterday."
Sunny's face remained impassive, but his mind was already racing with the implications. One day was barely enough time to plan a mission, let alone prepare for one.
Colonel Lee's voice broke into his thoughts. "I want to ask you something, Captain."
Sunny's eyes snapped back to the commander's face. "Sir?"
Colonel Lee's expression turned introspective, his eyes clouding over with thought. "What do you think about this war, Captain? Do you think we can win it?"
Sunny's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hadn't expected the commander to ask him a question like that. Colonel Lee was a man of few words, and he rarely, if ever, engaged in conversations that weren't strictly mission-related.
Sunny hesitated, taken aback by the question. He didn't know how to respond, or even if he should respond. He looked at the commander, trying to read his expression, but Colonel Lee's face was a mask.
For a moment, the two men just stared at each other, the only sound the distant rumble of artillery. Sunny's mind was racing, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't get him in trouble.
Finally, he spoke, his voice measured. "Sir, I...I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about that."
Just tell me your sincere response colonel Lee responded
Sunny's eyes locked onto the commander's, his voice low and even. "Sir, I don't know much about winning or losing. That's for the higher-ups to decide. But what I do know is that before this war ends, more people are going to die."
The tent fell silent, the only sound the creaking of the canvas in the wind. Colonel Lee's expression didn't change, but Sunny could sense a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
Sunny's voice remained detached, his words devoid of emotion. "It's just the way it is, sir. We're just pawns in a game we don't control. Our job is to follow orders and try to stay alive."