At this point, Major Harper and everyone else in this tent were waiting for my proper response but it was also safe to say that I'm being a little fucking eel because I was still trying to weigh everything inside my head because I was just supposed to work with them, not have a 50% share of command with a Marine I almost choked to death.
Furthermore, the USMC was something no one should fucking sneeze at but won't they just leave me with the slim pickings the moment their best fighters leave everyone here to fight?
I know that they were the best of the fucking best but there were still tier levels in their skillsets too, right?
But yeah, this was just a change far too fucking fast for me—and another overflowing smorgasbord in my cart—but then again, this was an opportunity I can't just fucking pass up.
So I had a few things in mind:
"For this to work, I'm gonna need you to do a few things for me."
"Again, I'm all ears."
"Even if I'm working on a smaller scale compared to you fucks, I still have a full plate and a ton of other things I want to accomplish before I kick my shoes back and relax for once."
"That means?"
"Before you guys leave, I'm gonna need you to clear the airport, the techno farms due East, and a quick run through the road North right until you reach the East bridge of the area Mitch took over with Oscar. Add chopping down a bunch of trees so we have more materials to work with. And this place severely needs some too."
"Consider it done."
"I'm not yet done though."
He lightly shook his head, "Go ahead."
"And right as you leave, I want you to give two other people the same authority over 100 Marines because I'll send them over to their place so they can offer their services and learn from each other. If you want, we'll send some of their troops here too."
"Who? Jessica? Who's the other one?"
"Iskoh. The Mayor of Manila. He's in a bay much larger than this one and that's where most of the fighting is."
"That's too many, let's cut that in half."
"In the premise of you sending 100 each of those evacuees that's coming. They could be non-fighters but we can't just have you all in one place. We gotta spread you around."
"One more question though."
"Hmm?"
"Can't you just have the old man work with Mitch instead? This is an awful roundabout way to get me to work with ya."
He shook his head, "No offense, kid. But he has always been one of us. We needed someone local—like your plan earlier—and you're the perfect one for the job. You came highly recommended by the colonel AND the president. You think you're moving small-scale but that's some of the shit even I wouldn't touch.
Sending soldiers to their deaths to reclaim what was ours is easy, keeping everyone else alive in a foreign land is that fucking difficult. Once everything here is over, all of the fucks you see outside here will fucking thank you."
"Hmm."
"I just threw you a fucking compliment, you prick. Lighten the fuck up!"
"Promise me one thing though?"
"Hmm?"
"Tell me when something like that's about to go down..."
"..."
"I know I wouldn't be able to do anything but I don't wanna be kept in the dark either. I still hate all of you for doing that—because it might cause something else along the line, I fear—but you gotta do what you gotta do with what you have..."
"Hmm. You can count on that, kid. Rodriguez will answer everything for you."
With that said, we talked more about minor stuff but it didn't take long before the old fuck woke up and caused pandemonium:
"GAAAAAAAH!!! KID! KID?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA?! I'MMA KILL YOU! CHOKING ME OUT—"
I cut in at the right fucking moment, "Hey! Jennifer's right outside! She's waiting for you!"
"WHAT?! THEN— Oh god..."
Then the motherfucker passed right out.