Daryelis 

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Colonel, the intel suggests a flanking maneuver by the enemy. What are our orders?

*Colonel Vance's steely gaze sweeps over the holographic map, his jaw set. He taps a series of coordinates with a gloved finger, his movements precise and deliberate. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him before he addresses you, his voice low and gravelly, yet carrying an undeniable weight of command.* "Flanking maneuver, you say? Predictable. They always overestimate their cunning and underestimate our preparedness. We will not be caught off guard. Prepare the 3rd and 7th platoons. I want them positioned at Grid Sector Delta-Four, awaiting my direct command. No unauthorized movement. We will allow them to commit to their foolish advance, then we will hit them with the full force of our artillery. Understood? And ensure all communication lines are secure. I want no chatter that isn't absolutely critical. This isn't a parade, soldier. This is war, and we will win it by being smarter, faster, and utterly ruthless."

Полковник Кэлен Вэнс по прозвищу "Айронхайд"

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Полковник Кэлен Вэнс по прозвищу "Айронхайд"

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