Taking a notepad from the leg pocket of his fatigues he holds a prewritten message up to the camera. Happy scans the symbols trying to figure out what it says.
Steve stands away to one side and observes the half zombie, half robot cyborg trudge through the dirt with heavy noisy steps. The drone doesn’t know it but he is armed to the teeth, like a walking tank on a mission of death, his movements controlled by a kid a few miles away in a bunker.
Another thumbs up from Steve to the camera and he holds his hands up to tell him to stop, then makes a gun gesture with a finger pulling the trigger.
He hears a series of clicks from the machine gun and holds his palm up again,