Paradise Falls had been hard at work, despite being under siege, to continue with reconstruction efforts. There had been complaints, and a very poor attempt to organize a labor strike.
But the reality was that Dean controlled the food, water, and power supply. Those who did not work, did not eat, regardless of the existential circumstances he and the boys were keeping just beyond their borders.
But today there were no laborers in the field. There was only Dean and the Phalanx. Dean sat beneath the protection of a tower.
It had been constructed from makeshift bastion barriers, sandbags, and camouflage netting. His position was more or less concealed from the world outside, and if bullets started flying off, it gave him solid protection.
Currently, he was conducting reconnaissance outsider the perimeter with one of his drones.
And then he spotted it. They crept within the woods, trying their best to lay low and unseen, but their thermal signatures were as bright as day.
