You know, the usual. Dying, getting shot, dying, you dying, you getting shot, dying.
[ Taking a drag off her cigarette, Molly follows Andy's gaze. Their enemy has been awfully quiet ever since she and Andy got here. It's beginning to make command uneasy, and whatever gets to command gets to the troops. She's honestly half terrified that her patrol later today will end... well, end badly. No patrol has before, but the air is thick with foreboding today. If anything happens to me, tell mom I love her, okay?