The crisp morning of Chernarus is greeted with the chirps of birds, nature's alarm clock for the man who lead's the group known as Kamenici. His morning routine was quick to set foot. Grabbing his rifle and re-lacing his boots before stepping out of the tent he slept in, the morning sun yet to illuminate the land. Long shadows accompany the chilly breeze as Mikhail Barta starts the morning fire, his men still asleep before finding himself to his normal location of the mornings. Finding himself a hundred or so meters from camp, ontop of a hill side overlooking the lands below, he grabs his little red bible, opens it, and gets to his knee's, lighting a candle, and making three prostrations and then sits quietly for a moment to collect himself. A prayer in Chernarussian following suit.
He would gather his bible and candle, packing it up before grabbing his satellite phone. A request to the Kozlov regime that they happily provided. He rang the familiar number to his wife, Anastasia. It took a few moments to receive, and after a few rings, she answered.
Family photo from before the outbreak. From left to right: Mikhail, Emílie(4 years old), Anastasia, Marie(1.5 years old). 2014.
Mikhail took a few moments to just collect himself. Looking at a photo consisting of him, his wife, and their two daughters. Then one of his deceased daughter, Marie, who died in the gas attacks of June 2018.
A photo of his daughter, Marie. Age 3, 2016.
He made a brief phone call to his contact in the government, speaking about getting a truck for his family, and a driver to get them to Primorsk, as well as any updates about current events going on in the rest of Chernarus.
After that, he gathered his things, going down back the camp, the fire he started prior to now a full on fire, he putting some water and instant coffee in a fireproof coffee cup, setting it near the fire on the embers. He yelled out with a stern voice, not nearly as loving and caring as when he was speaking with his wife and daughter.
Get up! Five minutes!
That's all that was needed to be said, the sound of tents rustling and men yawning was heard. They gathering their equipment and meeting at the fire. Mikhail stirred his coffee, picking it up from the fire and cautiously sipping the black robust coffee as he waited for his men to gather, staring at his watch as they fumbled about.
Mikhail's coffee getting warm near the fire.
Not five minutes later, 15 some men were around the fire, Dominik starting the breakfast for the morning, Mikhail began to update them about how their families will more than likely be moving to Primorsk over the next week or so, and filling them in on the events in the West. He made a plan, having them gather around a map as they set up routes and plans for the day. The briefing took maybe 30 minutes, then they ate breakfast, praying in unison before they began their duties for the day.