You made it ashore in one piece, but there's no time for congratulations.
A successful landing only means you're that much closer to the people who want to kill you.
You pat yourself down, checking your gear out of the habits gained from months of intensive training back in the States.
Frankly, you're surprised you made it this far.
The men start to mill around in the pre-dawn gloom, unsure what to do next.
They look to you. "Whada we do now, Sir?"
The muffled report of heavy machine gun fire echoes from further inland. It gives you focus.
You respond, "We do what we came here to do."
You set your boots toward your objective and march toward the sound of the guns.
"Follow me."
