Clayton POV: Logged in and was trying to figure out what’s going on, started taking shots up on a hill, went with Hutch to see what was going on, saw some dude in a red tracksuit and we said we were cool but then he shot Hutch and my Lego right next to me so I killed him.
Carmichaels reporting for duty!
September 25th, 1991. Jericho, Texas was no longer a ghost town as it's last remaining family, the Carmine's welcomed triplet boys. Anthony, Benjamin, and Carmine. There wasn't much to do in Jericho, a town filled with cattle and ghost barns. Clayton's Pa had been out of work for years, with little motivation to find a job. Pa was motivated though, to find the next bottle to consume. Often, he'd come home late, drunk, and would take it out on Ma. Clayton and his brothers first memory is their Pa striking their Ma after a long night of drinking. Ma was no cupcake though, she stayed up one night waiting for Pa to come home and hit her again. When Pa arrived, Ma was sitting in her chair, facing the doorway, shotgun in her lap. "What in the hell do you think you're doing with my gun Woman?!" Pa yelled as he started moving towards her. Ma stood up, put that shotgun barrel right between his eyes and calmly stated "Get out. Don't ever come back." Smirking, Pa replied "You don't have the guts to pull the trigger". Ma cocked the gun and pressed it even harder against his head ready to pull the trigger, but saw all 3 of her boys watching from the staircase, all next to each other and watching. "I have enough guts to protect my boys from a drunk monster like you. Now you've got 3 seconds. 3..." Pa didn't move. "2" Now Pa's face had changed from cocky to worrisome. "1" Pa slowly backed towards the door, hands to his side. He took one last look at the boys. Pa went out the door, walked to his truck, turned it on, and that was the last time the boys ever saw their Pa. Clayton strived for his Ma's approval. He was quiet and always ran to his Ma when his brothers would pick on him. She taught him everything that their Pa couldn't. How to shoot, make food and basically survive. Just as much as Clayton loved his Ma he loved his brothers, he would do anything for those two. He relied heavily on his two brothers for the surviving aspect of things because he was never as good as them. When tragedy struck and Ma passed from breast cancer it took a heavy toll on Clayton. The boys took their Ma and buried her in the backyard. Clayton stayed out there for hours, just sitting there, as if something was going to change. All he had left were his brothers, no education, no job... no hope. It turned out to be his brothers who offered him that hope. They survived together, for Ma. Striving for there purpose. At the ages of 18, Clayton and his brothers enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. During boot camp, the brothers undertook parachute training and combatant diving qualification courses and were designated 0326 Reconnaissance Marine, Parachute and Combatant Diver Qualified, and were assigned to the 27th MEU, aboard the USS Khe Sanh, and deployed overseas to the Green Sea to assist in the Chernarussian Civil War. After the civil war's end the 27th remained in Chernarus as a relief aide for the war torn Nation. In 2017, when the outbreak occurred, Clayton and his brothers were assigned to Delta Squad, led by Lt. Peter Brooks. They were in the Northern region of Chernarus near Tisy Military Base, when radios went silent. After months of fending for themselves, the brothers were separated from their unit and lost all contact with CENTCOM. In the following years, the Carmine brothers had did all they could to stake out a new life in this hell-torn land and were committed to surviving, no matter the cost.
Marcus would lean back in the chair he carried up the hill over looking Novaya, take one puff of his joint and push the PTT "To the Russian fella, I met your brother one time. Real crazy motherfucker, not surprised he ended up dying in the end. Oh and fuck the Chedaki. Fuck all russians to be honest, only ever met a few good ones. While im at the whole fuck this and that, fuck Falk and fuck the Irish." He'd lean back and start laughing "Oh and if you plan on responding then please come up with something new eh. I know you're Irish and all but try to come up with something other than the rumors you tell everyone." He'd pause and look at his beloved factory "Viva La Saviors." He'd stand up pick up his backpack, wipe off his white tracksuit and release the PTT