The bodies fall, blood steaming in the frigid air. A whistle is heard in the distance, an alarm that quickly spreads to shouts of warning and then sirens. "And Charlie's here to dance the Foxtrot." Tanya smirks, helping the three Special Forces mine the bodies with pressure-switch charges.
"Let's make sure the Reds are the ones wearing dresses."
no subject
"Let's make sure the Reds are the ones wearing dresses."