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You awake in a dingy bar and blink the goo from your eyes. A quick scan of the faces inside lets you know that, wherever you passed out, it wasn’t America — and the locals look particularly unhappy to see you and your squadmates who are also waking up at nearby tables.
As the encroaching mass of angry locals draws close, you and your squad pull on the strength of your Abrams Silhouette T-shirts, leaping up and punching your way free like you’re H.R. McMaster and it’s time for your single armored cavalry troop to destroy an entire Iraqi division.
Yeah, good thing you weren't wearing a T-90 shirt —never would’ve made it out alive. Now, where are you and what direction is America?