by Brian Cotton
***
Sanders looked away from his binoculars and back down to the radar system on his computer. He was holed up in his assault vehicle behind the driver’s seat. There was a feeling of guilt that he wasn’t out in the field of battle, but he knew that his place, for this mission at least, was here. Someone needed to observe the enemy’s movements to keep the others informed. He could tell from looking at his radar that the men out there would be overwhelmed soon if Harvey’s ass didn’t pick up the pace.
“Eagle one,” Harvey said into his mouth piece, “what’s your status? Over.”
“Eagle one reporting,” the leftover said with a heavy sound of gunfire in the background. “We’re getting over run here, sir. Over.”
“Just keep fighting, over.” Sanders replied. He swore under his breath while he waited for a response.
“What’s Eagle Five’s status? Over.”
“You let me worry about that, over.”
“Over and out.”