The radiocommunication crackled to life again Checkpoint Alpha, come back, over
He looked kayoed of the vehicle at his surroundings. The grey concrete road was play off with rough holes, splashed with blood, a lot of blood, and scattered with sluggard casings. Across the street a large building was zoom smoke into the clear blue sky, the flames licking up the extraneous of the building and setting alight to a pair of curtains that billowed give away into the wind. Looking at the vehicles dashboard he could see the radio, bust as it was he was surprised it worked, yet with no handset it was useless to him.
Checkpoint Charlie, any sign of Alpha?

over
Who was he? Where was he? Some sort of warzone? He pulled at his jacket, camouflage, and sawing machine the puddle tag Jacobs. He nodded, he liked the name Jacobs. He liked the name cross out too, strike off Jacobs. It had a nice flow to it, so, for the time being, he would be Mark Jacobs. He tried to remember something, anything, but his mind was blank. He pulled at the seatbelt, braced himself against the dashboard and unclipped the latch. Tumbling, sliding and crawling, Mark pulled himself through the front window and free of the vehicle.
Checkpoint Charlie? Status composition? Checkpoint Charlie, come back, over
Looking around he could see the streets were deserted,...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Ordercustompaper.com
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