Drums of War

Chapter 1

Everything was in disrepair in the city of Maguindanao in the not-too-distant future. There were smoke and dilapidated houses and mutilated corpses almost everywhere.

A small group of guerillas in a local bar were hanging out. One of them, a woman with tanned skin and a finely-built body, was at the bar, seemingly expecting someone, while she drank and waited.

Then someone entered the bar. A man who looked foreign with light-brown skin, jet-black hair, and 42 years of age. Much older than the woman. She raised her hand as if showing her presence to the man, who saw her and approached her at the bar.

"Are you Teresa Salvador?" the man asked.

"Yes," Salvador replied with a thick accent. "And you're John Balder."

"So, now that we got the introductions out of the way, let's get to it, shall we?"

Teresa cracked a smirk. "Straight to the point. I like that. Do you have a weapon with you?"

"I got an Ithaca shotgun out back."

She tipped her glass. "A 'friend' of mine switched sides at the last minute. He took a lot of our men with him, and so did our guns."

John immediately picked up what she wanted him to do. "And you want me to waste your 'friend' and destroy his weapons cache."

"Actually, killing him was only an option. It's up to you whether you want to kill him or not. I don't care anymore. The only thing I care about him is thinning him out, so, yes, you will destroy his cache of weapons. Kill anyone who gets in your way if you have to. His camp is over a mile southeast of here. If you're done, let me know."

"Wait a minute. If you're this close to his camp, then how come nothing chaotic is happening right now?"

"We're in neutral ground. At least, that's what I wanted him to think. Now go."

John walked out of the bar with no more questions asked. He then went to the Navy blue jeep and drove off southeast to the enemy camp. But he had to be careful not to drive into enemy territory and lose the element of surprise.

He finally reached the camp. But he stopped his jeep a few feet away, hidden inside the tall bushes. He stepped out of his jeep, wielding an Ithaca hunting shotgun, and walked through the bushes with a slow pace and low posture. He peeks through the bushes like a predator studying its prey. He saw the camp. It was smaller than he expected, with a smaller group guarding it. Because three jeeps just drove out of the camp just as he peeked through the tall bushes. Now he had a smaller risk of death with fewer enemies he had to deal with.

He seized the chance, walking out of the bushes casual-like, approaching a G3A4. He aimed his shotgun and shot the guard in the back. The loud gunshot alerted everyone left in the camp. But they were shot down one by one. They fired back at him and he took cover behind a small stack of logs, while he reloaded his shotgun and their bullets slowly chipping away at the thick bark of the logs. Then they reload their guns, giving him the chance to shoot them all down. Then he took out a grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it into the house where the weapons cache was stored.

The grenade blew, and the cache went off like very loud firecrackers. John rushed back into the bushes before any more of them responded to the camp. His mission was complete, so he didn't need to bother with them.

He went back into his jeep and drove back to the bar, just as the three jeeps returned to their camp, smothered in flames and littered with the corpses of their men.

John returned to the bar. He found Teresa still sitting where he left her. he walked to her but didn't say anything. He waited for her to say something.

"Well," she said, "how did it go?"

"It's done," he replied.

"Good. Want a drink?"

John sat beside Teresa and said, "Sure."