04-07-2017, 06:42 PM
"Mr Danjou? I have General Igbo on the line?"
One of the students-turned-command staff seemed rather confused, and was looking to Jacques to sort the situation out.
"Ah. I assume he was indeed chosen to lead the Malian elements?"
"Uhhh...yes Mr Danjou?"
"Good. Put him on the screen here, if you would please."
The Malian military forces involved with the Expeditionary Force made up much of the rear elements; his military had few armoured vehicles, and as such most of their troops were loaded in the now trapped soft-skin trucks and transports that his Legionnaires had advanced upon.
The man on the screen stood in a a military command center no where near that battle ground. He was sweating and clearly enraged, but seemed to be trying desperately to hold it in check. In the background, junior officers and staff were arguing over conflicting reports from their troops in the field, what few were still in contact with them at least as more and more comms channels were being jammed.
"What the fuck do you expect to achieve with this god-damned..."
The general's bark was immediately cut off by a signal from Jacques, and the student awkwardly cut the feed, hanging up on the Malian general.
"When he calls back, would you mind feeding him the live view from the F3LINs? That should encourage him to think before he speaks again."
The student nodded, and jerked in surprise when, indeed the General phoned again moments later.
Malian troops, after a single failed break-out attempt, were already surrendering in droves. Dozens had thrown down weapons, as F3LIN equipped Legionnaires advanced through their position, and Sierra Leonean troops swooped in to take control of the prisoners.
"And when General Pemphermo calls, do the same please. Once he realizes the Malian rear guard has surrendered, he will likely do the same."
Jacques glanced to Cruz again and smirked, then made an exaggerated gesture of looking at his watch, "I suspect the Nigerian ambassador will stop by here in person to accuse me of international terrorism or some such, in short order. By now, I'm sure they know where I am."
A glance to the journalism student whom had been maintaining a live feed over social media of the entire event thus far.
"Your grandfather is a wise man. You cannot understand the plights and desires of those who have entrusted you to lead, if you have not been where they stand."
One of the students-turned-command staff seemed rather confused, and was looking to Jacques to sort the situation out.
"Ah. I assume he was indeed chosen to lead the Malian elements?"
"Uhhh...yes Mr Danjou?"
"Good. Put him on the screen here, if you would please."
The Malian military forces involved with the Expeditionary Force made up much of the rear elements; his military had few armoured vehicles, and as such most of their troops were loaded in the now trapped soft-skin trucks and transports that his Legionnaires had advanced upon.
The man on the screen stood in a a military command center no where near that battle ground. He was sweating and clearly enraged, but seemed to be trying desperately to hold it in check. In the background, junior officers and staff were arguing over conflicting reports from their troops in the field, what few were still in contact with them at least as more and more comms channels were being jammed.
"What the fuck do you expect to achieve with this god-damned..."
The general's bark was immediately cut off by a signal from Jacques, and the student awkwardly cut the feed, hanging up on the Malian general.
"When he calls back, would you mind feeding him the live view from the F3LINs? That should encourage him to think before he speaks again."
The student nodded, and jerked in surprise when, indeed the General phoned again moments later.
Malian troops, after a single failed break-out attempt, were already surrendering in droves. Dozens had thrown down weapons, as F3LIN equipped Legionnaires advanced through their position, and Sierra Leonean troops swooped in to take control of the prisoners.
"And when General Pemphermo calls, do the same please. Once he realizes the Malian rear guard has surrendered, he will likely do the same."
Jacques glanced to Cruz again and smirked, then made an exaggerated gesture of looking at his watch, "I suspect the Nigerian ambassador will stop by here in person to accuse me of international terrorism or some such, in short order. By now, I'm sure they know where I am."
A glance to the journalism student whom had been maintaining a live feed over social media of the entire event thus far.
"Your grandfather is a wise man. You cannot understand the plights and desires of those who have entrusted you to lead, if you have not been where they stand."