"How long until dawn?"
"Eight hours."
"Only eight hours left..."
After advancing past two more houses, Ryan's partner asked him what time it was.
The two remained silent for a moment. The Command Vehicle had ordered them to retrieve all the wounded soldiers they had left behind before seven o'clock.
Once dawn arrived, they were very likely to come under artillery fire again.
The Department of Defense had already told them that the Federal Army's artillery was being loaded up and would reach the front line in no more than a week. But how the hell were they supposed to hold out for that week? With their flesh and blood? The enemy had artillery, while they had made no preparations for anything of the sort.
So by seven-thirty at the latest, the entire line would contract and retreat, pulling away from the city's main battlefield.
The Command Vehicle's plan was to move the main battlefield from the city, which clearly gave the enemy a greater advantage, to the outskirts.
They had even set some of the less seriously wounded soldiers to digging trenches in the open, planning to fight a defensive battle.
As long as they could hold out until the supplies and artillery arrived, they would be able to take the city.
In other words, eight hours later, whether or not they had advanced to the site of the morning's attack, they would have to evacuate.
The two rested briefly. Ryan held up a mirror and used its reflection to observe the situation outside.
He had found the mirror in this room. Compared with the suicidal act of sticking his head out directly, using a mirror was much more appropriate.
His sniper partner was also using a mirror to observe.
The illumination flares in the sky were slowly descending,