Five years ago. About 3 miles south of baja.
Sev was waiting for the signal. As usual, he had to wait even longer than normal, because once again, the scouts were lost. He did a quick check of all his gear. His rifle, a Brand-new Marksman carbine he had modified into a select-fire rifle. His pistol, was his trusty 9mm Hi-power browning. His trustycombat knife had a sharp edge, and was resting in the shealth he had on his duty belt. He rolled up the sleeves on his BDU's checking his watch at the same time. 6:47. The scouts were over 15 minutes late. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed his rucksack, and moved farther along the ridge. It was then that he saw the Cross. About a 1/2 mile away, the scout had been spotted by Ceasar's legion scouts and crucified. Swearing even louder he lost his temper and opened fire on the legion patrol he had been trying to hide from. After firing off almost all his rifle magazines, He pulled out his Pistol, and managed to take out another 8 legionaries, before running out of ammo. He pulled out his combat knife and managed to take out two more, grabbed his most recent kill's 12.7mm Sig-sauer pistol, and pumping another 7 rounds into the legionaries, managed to take down 3 more. He suddently felt a weight on the back of his neck, and things went black.