The trucks drive under a wildly dramatic arch: two hands, holding swords that cross over the road. When my rap album makes it big, that's the first thing I'm building, right at the entrance to my zoo. They set up a position to recon a park that the Fedayeen are using: "We're gonna be able to use night optics and set up an OP on the park. And come morning, we move in and sweep it for signs of hostile forces." Brad stands up: "Gentlemen, they finally gave us a night recon." Ray points out that, exciting as it is, that's kind of desperate. That night they watch the city, lit up once again, on their goggles. Mortars, bombs, the whole bit. Nate notes the weirdness of the traffic: "It's bizarre... All of them driving in and out of the city, like it's normal." It's almost like their lives aren't on hold or something, just because you're invading.
Encino Man calls in a mission for Nate: "Hey, uh, Godfather is saying it's time for us to be more aggressive. Suggest you send foot patrols out into the neighborhoods below. How copy?" More aggressive? "Godfather says it's time for us to increase our presence." Nate, who's actually got eyes on the area he's talking about, is not interested. "Sir, given the level of disorder in the city at this time, and given our lack of a cohesive mission, I'm gonna have my men remain in a defensive position until dawn, when we'll move on the park." Encino Man whines. "Hitman," he repeats, "Having assessed the situation from close observation, I'm gonna keep my men in a defensive posture until dawn. How copy." Whining. Nate drops the phone, ignoring him, and shakes his head. "They want me to be more aggressive. Send the men into this. For what? So I can come home with twenty-one men instead of twenty-two?" His voice is getting quieter and quieter. "For what?"
Brad looks up at him: the strength of him, and the worry, and the exhaustion and the youth. "I trust your judgment, sir." He looks at him, quietly, begging him to remember. Remember, you are right and we trust you. Remember, you are going to be okay long after this and there are more things in the world than the sword hanging over your head. There are your men. Remember, remember. "I can be wrong... A platoon commander's situational awareness doesn't extend very far..." Brad's not buying. "Far enough, sir." Nate remembers.