operated alone, like most of the operators from the agency, but now and again they’d need to pull off something special, something bigger, just like now.
He pulls up and quickly hops out of the buggy grabbing his rifle and backpack. Then kneels into the corn and ducks his head out slightly to look ahead along the tracks. The train sits there quietly. It’s eerily calm, despite being packed to the brim with drones. He can tell it’s full as standing outside are the Lieutenants that once led the battalions now jammed inside. Their collective bodies generating a column of steam that rises up from the entire length of each carriage roof and pours out through the thin open windows.
He needs to get to the engine at the front and crosses the tracks