[i]The sounds of far-off conflict echo across the desolate and war-torn city. Explosions and the distant cracks of rifles signal that there were still pockets of resistance. The sounds of aircraft can be heard off in the distance as well, military jets, strafing and bombing enemies below. But where you stand is oddly silent, for a moment. A voice pierces the air, cold, metallic, with an American accent.[/i] Picked a nasty place to watch the sunset, kid.