South-Eastern Michelsland
05:33 PM
Sitting on the nearest boulder and loosening the straps of his flak jacket, Lothar De Corde smiled with satisfaction, deep breathing the resinous smells of the surrounding woods. Life was great. If not by rank, at least de facto he was number 4 of the New Iremian Archangels which meant he was number 2 of the operatives, considering both Reziel and Colonel Clarke were buried deep under too an high pile of papers to actually have time to lead the troops. Not bad, at 27. Putting down both his rifle and his Kevlar helmet, he chuckled between himself before checking the tactical computer on his armband. The reports from his men were coming and for once since the beginning of that campaign they were reports telling a story of complete success. Thanks to the intelligence, the two platoons of Archangels had finally been able to intercept a small column of those filthy anarchists and to wipe them away from the very face of earth. After a whole week uselessly spent to chase for always disappearing ghosts, it was definitely a satisfaction.
Unluckily, once again there were no traces to link them to the Government no: to whoever was in charge of that inextricable mess which was Playstation Portable. That was definitely a pity, as it would have prevented the Empire of Michelsland to both send a formal note of complaint and to officially request the support of the New Iremians to handle the situation. Shaking his head, Lothar sighed quietly, perfectly aware that the situation wouldnt have changed for the days to come: the Archaengles would have packed up their things, reloaded the two Chinooks and then they would have moved back to their camp in the Southern Grand Duchy, waiting for the next hint. Waiting for the next incursion in Michelsland waiting for the next chase to start.
Grabbing his canteen and drinking a mouthful of fresh water, Lothar smiled. After all, it wasnt such a bad news. The risks would have gone on but the same for the excitement. When the armband lightened because an incoming message, Lachdanan opened the communication while rising back on his feet to reach his men.
«Phantom, heres Squirrel. Well we were going to shut the radio down and to pack up everything, when weve intercepted well Im not sure. It seems a SOS message. Probably probably you should come down here to listen: its too feeble to be effectively forwarded»
«SOS? Coming from where? Eindhoven?»
«Uhm no. Just the contrary and thats the strange thing. It seems SE. Distant but not too much»
Frowning, the Archangel Major hurried towards the Chinooks. South East?