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Murdoch
took
a
deep
breath
.
"
Can
I
ask
you
something
?
"
"
What
?
"
"
If
I
live
-
will
you
let
me
take
a
proper
picture
of
you
?
No
tongues
sticking
out
,
no
middle
fingers
?
"
The
Japanese
and
U
.
S
.
troops
met
up
just
over
two
hours
after
the
attack
had
begun
.
In
the
time
it
had
taken
the
sun
to
climb
out
of
the
eastern
sky
and
shine
down
from
directly
overhead
,
the
soldiers
on
the
ground
had
cobbled
together
something
you
could
actually
call
a
front
.
It
was
an
ugly
battle
,
but
it
wasn
’
t
a
rout
.
There
were
plenty
of
men
still
alive
,
still
moving
,
still
fighting
.
Rita
and
I
ran
across
the
remains
of
the
base
.
The
front
ran
down
the
middle
of
Flower
Line
Base
,
cutting
a
bulging
half
-
circle
that
faced
the
shoreline
.
U
.
S
.
Special
Forces
anchored
the
center
of
the
ragged
arc
where
the
enemy
attacks
were
most
fierce
.
Soldiers
piled
sandbags
,
hid
among
the
rubble
,
and
showered
the
enemy
with
bullets
,
rockets
,
and
harsh
language
when
they
could
.
If
you
drew
an
imaginary
line
from
the
U
.
S
.
soldiers
to
Kotoiushi
Island
,
the
No
.
3
Training
Field
would
be
smack
dab
in
the
middle
.
That
’
s
where
the
Mimics
had
come
ashore
.
Generally
,
Mimics
behaved
with
all
the
intellect
of
a
piece
of
gardening
equipment
.
Surprise
attacks
weren
’
t
in
their
military
repertoire
.
And
you
could
be
sure
that
their
weak
point
-
the
server
calling
the
shots
-
would
be
heavily
defended
,
surrounded
by
the
bulk
of
the
Mimic
force
.
Missiles
that
dug
under
and
shattered
bedrock
,
cluster
bombs
that
fragmented
into
a
thousand
bomblets
,
vaporized
fuel
-
air
bombs
that
incinerated
anything
near
them
.
All
of
mankind
’
s
tools
of
technological
destruction
were
useless
on
their
own
.
Defeating
the
Mimics
was
like
defusing
a
bomb
;
you
had
to
disarm
each
piece
in
the
proper
order
or
it
would
blow
up
in
your
face
.
Rita
’
s
Jacket
and
mine
were
a
perfect
match
,
blood
and
sand
.
One
axe
covering
the
other
’
s
back
.
We
dodged
javelins
,
sliced
through
Mimics
,
blasted
holes
in
concrete
with
tungsten
carbide
spikes
.
All
in
search
of
the
Mimic
whose
death
could
end
this
.
I
knew
the
routine
well
enough
:
destroy
the
antenna
and
the
backups
to
prevent
the
Mimics
from
sending
a
signal
into
the
past
.
I
thought
I
’
d
gotten
it
right
on
my
159th
loop
,
and
it
wasn
’
t
likely
Rita
had
screwed
things
up
.
But
somehow
everything
had
reset
again
.
Getting
to
know
Rita
a
little
more
intimately
on
this
160th
loop
had
been
nice
,
but
in
exchange
Flower
Line
had
taken
it
on
the
chin
.
There
would
be
heavy
noncombat
personnel
casualties
and
a
lot
of
dead
when
the
dust
had
finally
settled
.
