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Lee waited an agonizing ten seconds while all the members of Wolf squad came running over the defilade's lip. Well, all of them except the sharpshooter they had been assigned. That didn't matter right now, though, since all sense of individual platoon organization had been thrown out of the window. A few dozen marines poured over the lip of the defilade, following what they thought was an offensive push. Lee sighed, looking at the 50-or so men now crowding into the crevice.

"Alright Wolf squad, we're leading the way behind the main defensive line! Everybody single file, five feet apart!
Eyes open, weapons in front, keep your eyes out for grenades and hug the ground when fired upon!
MOVE OUT!!!"

Lee motionned for everyone to begin running, and as they did, the reason for having separate insertion squads was made perfectly clear: the 50-odd marines now trudging along in the dirt were making far more noise than a single 10-man team. Nevertheless, the more guns they could bring to this firefight, the better.

The marines kept on running, through incoming plasma fire, flying only feet above their heads as the raging battle on the surface continued. Occasionally, a stray grenade landed in the defilade, quickly picked up and thrown back up with a scrap of heat-resistant cloth, the marines who did so swearing as they had to nurse the second-degree burns received from the fiber of their gloves igniting. One marine went so far as to absorb the grenade blast with his body, his blood and gore reminding everyone of what was being sacrificed every moment so that others could live. But they kept on running, kept on moving, because this miraculously unnoticed push wasn't going to last much longer.

The front man exited the defilade, two marines following him quickly with Lee right behind as they came out onto the surface, a few meters from the massive wall that the covenant had re-purposed as a defensive line. Brute packs were rushing away in the distance, hoarding masses of grunts and jackals in front of them as they ran to experience the joys of battle they were so known for. Lee clicked on his com again, this time broadcasting to any UNSC personnel with 200 feet of his position.

"Alright marines, get on that wall! I want those plasma turrets disabled and our positions secured! Get them with their pants down!"

The humans began rushing onto the wall, the sound of gunfire and shotguns sounding as the first sentries were taken out. Running at break-neck speed, Lee dashed into a plasma turret's service well, crushing a grunt's skull with the butt of his shotgun before kicking another into a cluster of it's panicking comrades. A few of them fell, tripping over one another, and the ones who had managed to flee were quickly gunned down by the marines now swarming into the wall's service corridors.

"Man those plasma turrets! Turn them around on the encampment behind us!"

The order was echoed throughout the ranks as officers and non-coms began repeating it to those around them, some already firing on the ranks of brutes that were holding down the rest of the 301st. The others, assisted by members of Wolf squad, began the task of picking up and redeploying the plasma repeaters. Soon, the situation had been reversed, the brutes now finding themselves peppered by intense machinegun and plasma fire, and the barely prepared reserve waiting behind the wall trapped in what could only be described as a valley of slaughter.

Still, the brutes were a resilient race, and through the rain of death that was descending upon them, some were able to hurl spike grenades or release a round of their brute shot. A loud crash sounded through the wall's hallways as a screaming marine began to cry.

"MY LEGS! I CAN'T FIND MY LEGS!"

War was uncaring, and merciless. And as surely as they had wiped out the company of grunts manning the plasma turrets, they would fall unless the rest of the 301st could catch up.

[Please note: The following is in Karr's mind.]

The rain soaked streets of a 21st century New York City seemed to cause Anthony's eyes to water as the door opened. A tall, 6'3 man, straw like blond hair, and a mustache came in, and sat in the booth with Anthony. From what Anthony could tell, he was in an old diner in the early 2000's wearing civilian clothing, and now has been accompanied by this man.

"Um... Can I help you?" Karr asked.

The man signaled for a waitress. "No son. But your company would sure be appriciated."

The Blond waitress took both of their orders, Anthony, a coffee, black, 2 sugars, the stranger, the same except with cream.

"Now Anthony..." The man said, folding his hands on the table, leaning forward menacingly. "Where do you think you are?"

Anthony thought for a minute. Before he was here, he was fighting a battle for an AA cannon.

"Am I dead?" Anthony asked.

The man gave a chuckle. "No no son. Your not dead. Your a hell of a soldier. I dont think the big man is ready to get rid of you yet. No, son your dreaming actually. And me... well..."
He was cut off by the waitress. She set their coffee's down on the table and scurried off with a rushed posture.
The man took a sip. "No, I'm dead son. Your dreaming of a dead man you have never met actually. But I made this so. Because you know a friend of mine..."

Anthony paused for a moment. "A friend?"
The man nodded. "Yes, a friend of mine. We fought together infact I think I have met you once before Anthony. Baker Company Marksman... I think I was the one who gave you that title..."

Karr thought hard, he remembered the Lieutenant who had given him the title of Marksman on the Armengald. He still drew a blank on the name.

"I'll tell you then..." He said, after another sip. "My name, is Michael Brennan. I was Lieutenant of a Black Operations Squad. I had lost all of my men, and I died in the protection of you and the rest of your men..."

Anthony gave a sigh. "Well, then sir, you should know... they all died. I'm the last remaning survivor of Baker from Belfast."

"Cut the 'sir' bullshit. I'm dead damnit... Now, the only one you say?"

He gave a sorrowful nod.

"I see. Well, son the reason I'm here, which... I know is what your wondering; is to tell you that your one hell of a soldier. I have been watching you Anthony, and I must say you remind me of myself. I was a solid tactition, and really, I always had my head in the clouds." He scoffed. "Hell, I always wanted to be a damned hero... now look at me..."
He ran his hand down the front of his face. As if wiping away water that wasn't there.

"Anthony, my time here is short. But I want to finish up with this: help them survive. That is key. What got me through everything... was the fact that I thought for the survival of everyone else." He got up out of the booth. "Remember that."

He retrived a drivers cap from his jacket pocket. The rain came down harder now, and a strike of thunder shook the small diner.

"Yep! I'mma comin." He said to no one.

He turned to Anthony, and held out his hand. Anthony grasped it and shook it firmly. "Godspeed son."

Mike was about to leave when he jumped suddenly with an 'Oh!' and turned back to Karr. "Son, when you can, tell Hammer that ol' b*****d I say hi. And tell him to hold onto my tags for me."

Anthony nodded in responce and watched as Brennan left the cafe, and dissapered in a cloud of steam from the manholes.

Again Anthony had to blink from the rain outside-

***

Everything came back into view. His helmet was gone, his arm hurt, but he was in one peice. He grabbed his COM.

"Lieutenant! Whats our Status?!"

Seth was advancing slowly along wit the rest of his Squad, nor more confident since the destruction of the towers. Methodically shooting the remaining covenant in the area. He popped a fatally wounded fallen brute with a three round burst in the skull for good measure.

He heard Karr's voice over the COM, "We have the first half." He reported back. Turning Seth saw the Armor and Hogs slowly prowling the war torn field of battle. Marines scowled the rear looking for Covenant survivors.

"We took the Wall Kar, but from the reports I'm hearing we've got part two coming up. The AA is just on the other side. But a whole lot of Tangos would rather we stayed over here."
He made eye contact with Bishop who was distributing the rest of the squad to head up onto the wall and secure positions. He gave Bishop a sign to wait. "What's your location Karr?" He asked looking around for the man.

Dansmith ran as hard as he could through the depression in the ground. Plasma fire was everywhere... His CO was nowhere, and their target was somewhere. He put a Brute into his sights as he skidded to a fast halt, then pulled the trigger once. Twice. Thrice. Dead. The Brute's ugly form fell forward onto a pile of it's own brains, primed Spiker Grenade in hand...
Get down! He leaned back and pulled his legs up, slamming hard onto his back upon the pebbled and galssed ground. A muffled explosion and a fast, brief swarm of spikes lanced over his head, followed lazily by a wiff of smoke and the smell of ozone.
"s**t, that was close!" He cried, hauling himself up. He called for TeamComm on his helmet, but all he got was static. He pounded his helmet with the palm of his hand: still nothing. He must have damaged the thing when he fell to the ground... Dammit.
"I need some support here!" He yelled out as two squads of Buggers flew in from underneath the black-cloud ceiling generated by a few busted Warthogs and one very dead Tank. Their wings and chittering gossip shrilled in his ears as they opened up with small-arms plasma fire and Needle rounds. Ashton dove to the side and hunkered behind a blown-up Hog. Men ran past him, hollaring from the charge, running for their lives, and rallying their comrades.

"Copy that sir. Armor is here."

Anthony attempted to get everyone to move from the section of wall that the Tank was close at fireing upon.

Suddenly, the whole wall erupted into a dustcloud. The rubble flew everywherem pelting marines, and Brutes. Anthony was knocked back on his a** for a moment, but the Tank moved up where the wall and the groud were shallow along the rock wall to the right flank.

The massive tank halted at the new doorway it had created, and fired its massive cannon again into the croud of unsuspecting Brutes.

The lines of MG's were now set inplace ontop of the Trench Cut wall. Ratta-ta-ta-ta-ta went the guns as they fired into the horde of Brutes.

Anthony, went back to his Spike Ladder, climbed down, and joined the Ranks that began climbing onto the moving tank.