<div align="center">(http://baltimorechromiumresiduecleanup.com/_resources/images/photos/2011_terminal.jpg)<br/><em>Dundalk Marine Terminal, before the world blew up.</em></div><br/>As First Section returned from the stacks, supporting the disheveled woman from the container, collapsed into a state of catatonia, Chief Bivona, the commander of the boats, called up from the water below them.  "Hey, lieutenant?  Your boss is calling you on the radio.  Well, your XO, technically."  He paused as one of the sailors caught up to him.  "And my boss is calling me- something's afoot."<br/><br/>Lt York nodded, adjusting the tac radio on her pack to the radio repeater the Navy had set up.  She keyed the radio, and spoke. "CLUB QUEEN, this is CLUB TREY ACTUAL, over."<br/><br/>There was a burst of static.  "CLUB TREY, this is CLUB QUEEN.  Report Status, over."<br/><br/>York took a breath before replying. "CLUB TREY is feet dry, heavy equipment offloading.  Facilities look intact at initial inspection.  No evidence of blast, no immediate radiation.  Dock is in good shape." She gave it a good stamp with her boot. "That's all preliminary, over."<br/><br/>The was a static laden pause, then a response. "Understood, CLUB TREY. Standby, over."<br/><br/>Expecting a minute or two silence, she waited.  Something broke the still silence, up to the north.  Gunfire.  A quick exchange, drifting over the water.<br/><br/>The radio leapt to life. "Break! Break! Break! HUS BUS, HUS BUS, this is CLUB DEUCE.  Red priority.  3 to pick up.  Grid 636154, out."<br/><br/>"HUS BUS, enroute, out," responded a calm female voice.<br/><br/>The man from 2nd Platoon continued. "CLUB QUEEN, this is CLUB DEUCE, contact, over."<br/><br/>"Go, CLUB DEUCE," commanded Finn.<br/><br/>"Engaged unknown force, fire exchanged.  1 Blue wounded, 2 orange wounded.  Unknown force disengaged.  First section overwatch, second on pickup, over," replied CLUB DEUCE.<br/><br/>After a brief pause.  "Understood, CLUB  DEUCE.  Advise and report.  Break any new contact.  Out.  CLUB QUEEN to CLUB TREY."<br/><br/>York gave a quick jump.  "CLUB TREY, over."<br/><br/>"CLUB TREY, you are to proceed around the perimeter of the Dundalk terminal.  TRIPLE BLUE needs to conduct their recon, and you are to sweep the dock of any threats to their efforts.  Engage and destroy hostile forces if able.  If unable, report.  Detain all non-hostile unknowns.  Cover the area from your current position, around the waterfront, to the Broening Highway, over."<br/><br/>York considered the map in her mind.  It was just over two miles, and she had to protect her landing site, too.  This was going to suck.  "CLUB TREY is to sweep the dock, from our landing site to Broening Highway, for hostile forces, in support of TRIPLE BLUE, over."<br/><br/>"Exactly, CLUB TREY.  Radio if you need support.  Keep an ear peeled in case CLUB SMOKE comes on line.  Out."<br/><br/>York reset her radio, then looked up to see the platoon already assembled loosely around her.  The radio traffic had drawn them all in around her, so she decided to give her orders like this.  "Alright.  Sergeant Hart, 2nd section is going to secure our landing area.  Take possession of that building over there, fortify it, and establish sentries.  Support the sailors, and watch our new guest.  I'll radio when I finish the patrol, or send up an illumination round from Johnson's M203 if the radio's out."<br/><br/>Hart nodded. "Yes, ma'am."<br/><br/>She continued.  "First section, we'll make the patrol.  Clark, take point.  Lead us along the waterfront, as close to cover as you can.  Lee and Choi, you'll be at the center.  If there's trouble, get a firing position and suppress the trouble as fast as you can.  Johnson, take up the rear. Anyone comes up behind, put a grenade on them.  Godly, you're with me,  We'll float from front to rear.  Keep your eyes as open as you can.<br/><br/>"Let's move out."