"Graves, we need reinforcements!"

"There's too many!"

"They're slaughtering us!"

All the voices of his soldiers rung out through the radio.

"General, my boys are getting stitched up! We need air support!"

"Negative. We fight with the guns we have."

A sudden explosion from an RPG made the radio go silent. Only a few minutes later, another voice ran out.

"Graves!"

Diapaolo.

"They've got the radio -" His voice was cut off with a gunshot.

"Diapaolo!" Graves nearly shouted from pure worry into the radio. "Damn it! Answer me!" He fought the temptation to slam the radio against his desk. When he finally found the urge, he shot up from his bed in a cold sweat and heavy breathing.

The same dream from a year ago.