Prologue (3)

Cronyism (n.) - Cronies means long time friends

Quondam (adj.)

Atrocious (adj.)

Calorie (n.)

Marotte (n.)

What greeted Decker was a huge pile of rubble. Concrete, bricks, and iron bars jutting out of places, some mangled bodies, and burnt furniture. There was no indication of volatile substances.

"Sir. It looks safe. I cannot find sparks, flames, or fumes anywhere. There are some dead bodies, so we need to call the medics to clean it up. There is a clearing up ahead where we can set up the temporary base."

"Alright. Everyone, move out. Be careful of the cacitara. Bolt, give an update to the base and tell them to send medics here."

As the 50 soldiers started climbing up the wall and moved towards the other side, one particular soldier, a bit on the chubbier side and an innocent-looking face, short black hair, and white skin was a bit dazed staring at the 12 feet high wall.

Another soldier, with a scar running down his face, a heavy body, and a menacing look on his face, bumped the dazed soldier.

"Hey!" Shouted Madden as he stumbled from the bump.

"Tch! One day, you will get us killed, you fat-ass. I hate cronyism. Everyone knows you were long time friends with the Brigadier and had some contacts that allowed you to enter the 5th Brigade." Proctor, the man with the scar, replied and sneered, as he went to jump on the wall.

"Shut it! Both of you." Decker's voice stopped Madden's retort in its tracks.

"And you, Madden, need to burn off calories. It is a concern that all of us have. You may become a liability and endanger us all. You will wait on this side of the wall and give status updates. And, don't worry about the Brigadier. I know that your father was only a quondam partner and not a proper friend. But you need to catch up to all of us, quickly, or you will be assigned kitchen duty from now on."

"Sir. Yes, sir."

"And Proctor, you better control your marotte of picking on the rich, or I'll have you on cleaning duty for a month. It is just atrocious."

"Sir. Yes, sir."