[b]Serbian-Albanian Internal Border[/b]
The clunking and clattering of a old APC echoed around the grassy fields of the border, the APC itself was old and withered, being surplus equipment from WW1. A tall Serbian soldier peeked out the top hole of the APC, looking down the mounted machine gun as the APC continued it’s patrol. The sun rapidly sunk lower in the sky as the light faded, being replaced by the looming moon and the twinkling stars.

“Anything to report Branko?” shouted the Commander of the APC, sitting the back and watching over the soldiers hunched in the seats of the APC.

“No sir!” shouted back Branko, who was manning the gun of the APC. He slid back into the take for a moment, grabbing a pair of binoculars that was laying on one of the benches, scanning across the flat grasslands and looking for any signs of trouble. He stopped his scanning for a moment as in the glass of his binoculars he saw a few people moving along the border.

“Hang On! We got movement, North-East.” said Branko, ducking back into the APC to look at the commander. The border-line that divided the province of Albania from the rest of Serbia was locked down, due in part to the Mafiya’s heavy influence over the area. It was a constant struggle between military forces and Mafiya smugglers as they battled it out in towns and fields in the area. The driver of the APC slammed his foot into the accelerator, the APC now moving rapidly to the location where the men had been spotted.

The men they saw appeared to be a company of six, each had a rifle slung over their backs. As soon as they saw the APC charging towards them they began shouting phrases in Russian. They appeared to be protecting a pure white van, although the APC crew did not know what was contained within the van itself.

“There definitely Mafiya! Everyone out of the APC, gun the bastards down!” shouted the Commander. The APC screeched across the field, sending dirt and rocks into the air as the men hopped out the back and began firing at the Mafiya across the field. The van had parked and the Mafiya were using it to cover themselves.

The once peaceful field was now full of strife, as the crackling of gunfire echoed through the night, as the sun had finally fallen in the sky. Crimson red blood ran through the fields, as the Mafiya fell to the Serb Gunfire. They were disorganized as they continued to shout out indistinguishable phrases in Russia. Branko had dismounted the APC Gun, as using it risked tearing apart whatever the Mafiya had in the van. However as he rushed to take out the last soldier, he garnered a lucky hit in Branko’s stomach region. Branko screamed out in pain as he fell to the ground, as the commander fired a bullet at the Mafiya who had shot Branko’s head, bringing about his demise.

“Branko! Are you alright!?” worried the Commander, rushing to Branko’s side. A medic that had been in the APC was also quick to rush over to Branko.
“Do not freak out, the bullet did not hit anything critical, all though a few more centimeters over as Branko would have been a goner.” assured the medic, applying pressure to Branko’s wound as he applied a gauze pad and some other medical substances to treat the wound. Branko said nothing, his face disgruntled and showing clearly that he was in pain. The rest of the squad stood around Branko, checking on him and assuring him that everything was going to be alright.

“Everyone else besides our medic here and Private     Branko, clean up the bodies and check the van! Now!” commanded the Commander, the rest of the Serbian Soldiers rushing around as they piled up the bodies and opened up the van.