Red Dawn Pt. II, POV

It had been four years since Walt had seen home. Ever since the invasion of London, his life became an unpredictable maelstrom of change. He longed for the simpler days in Calgary. Teaching high school physics was not a particular hobby of his, but being able to spark inspiration in a few of his otherwise belligerent students was worth the effort. From wielding Bunsen burners and demerits to proton cannons and human heads, Walt's last few years had indeed seen some change.

“I should really start acting like I’ve got some survival instinct.” Walt muttered to himself, snapping out of his reflective haze. He peeked his head out from the safety of a shipping container he had found refuge in. The ruins of the fuel depot around him fit his mental image of what a battlefield would like. The smell of diesel in the air was intoxicating and the fiery heat, almost unbearable. Canadians were not built for hot climates. Struggling to form a plan, Walt knew this was no time to gripe about comfort.

Walt flew out of hiding, the thrusters in his suit let off a crack like thunder. He blasted the last remaining fuel tank and perched himself on top of the base’s gymnasium. He had made his intentions clear. Walt intended to make a stand.

A bright reaction of lights followed by faint warmth danced across Walt's face, as artillery rounds blossomed to life in front of him. "They weren't trained in lobbing artillery at a man-sized target." Walt gleaned to himself as their fire for effect, had none. "Ugh, and I've never trained to fight off an entire infantry battalion on my own."

With just a matter of time before the artillery batteries could bracket Walt in for an easy kill, he made a dash for the treeline just behind his lab. He noticed his brown Escort sitting unscathed in the employee parking lot, almost upset even World War III couldn't get rid of it. With a more important task at hand, Walt regains focus. He has a hunch the Russians placed their command and control assets behind the safety of the mountain wilderness behind Black Mesa. Owing most of his military strategy knowledge to a few Sun Tzu quotes and a childhood playing Civilization, it was the logical choice. If he could convince the guy in charge of the whole invasion this was a bad move, he'd have victory in his hands.

Reaching the summit of a glaciated peak, Walt got to savor the rare joy of being right. In the valley below him, lay dozens of satellite dishes, tents and vehicles, all strewn about in haste like Burning Man. He surmises the "big one in the middle" is where the head man lives, if only he had he means to get down there. Their little makeshift city was surprisingly well fortified for time they had to establish. He knew if he made too grand of an entrance, Russian aircraft or even satellites might be able to relay his position.

....