Shamel

A Soviet-built T-62 tank rested at an unmarked position, dodging enemy reconnaissance aircraft as it flew past.

A net hung above the tank, the only thing covering it. The tank's beige color blended into the sand.

Inside, the crew was melting.

A topless Ayman sat in the driver's seat, reading the Quran.

Ramadan slouched in the loader's seat, snoring. Menas sat on the other side of the cannon, watching his damped chest rise and fall.

Menas then returned to his station, staring at the large telescopes. Curious to see what was going on, he pressed his eye onto one of them.

The scope zeroed into the tank commander, Sherif, receiving a paper from an elderly superior.

Sherif appeared to nod, as the superior's lips were moving. His hand kept waving everywhere.

Menas' eye left the scope. He stretched his uniform to wipe the lens before returning to view.

Ayman looked back, noticing Menas at his station.

He settled his Quran down, still holding it. "What now?"

Menas snapped toward him, before returning to the scope. "New orders, I guess."

Ayman rushed to his periscope.

The desert's glare blocked the view. Only Sherif and his superior were visible.

Later, the men parted ways. Sherif was seen heading toward the tank's direction.

Ayman pulled back from the periscope, facing Menas. "Open the hatch!"

Ramadan jerked awake, his head snapping up. Menas' shout rang his ears before his eyes opened.

Menas left his seat, pushing the hatch open.

Sherif held it up as he slipped in.

"Ramy!" Ayman whispered. "The commander's here." He jerked his head to Sherif's direction.

Ramy's eyes suddenly widened, darting everywhere to find Sherif.

The crew saluted. "213 present, sir!" they shouted in unison. Ramy's tongue dragged through the words.

Sherif nodded, saluting back he settled in the top rear seat of the tank.

Ramy noticed a crumpled paper in Sherif's hand. "What's that you're holding?" he asked, jerking his chin to the paper.

Sherif exhaled. His lips sealed for another second before answering.

"We're advancing," he muttered.

The crew looked at each other.

Menas' brows curled, eyes drifting away. Ayman felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Ramy's panting turned to relief. His cheeks lifted into a smile.

"What are you smiling at?" the hesitant Menas asked.

Ramy threw his hands high. "What? We're back to the grill."

Sherif rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose, elbow bracing against the support bar.

He sighed. "No, we're not lighting up the Magachs."

Ramy's face dropped. He turned back, facing Sherif.

Menas sank back into his seat, exhausted.

"Then what?" Ramy asked.

Sherif looked at his paper again. "Our unit's switching positions with the conscripts at the Deversior Gap," he explained.

Ayman snapped toward Sherif, eyes widened. "But the road to Cairo..."

"The road to Cairo can only be protected if we link up the 2nd and 3rd Armies," Sherif interrupted, raising his voice.

Ayman sank back to his seat.

Ramy kept nodding.

Menas sighed. "So, we're finished."

"Nope. All we have to do, is let the Israelis leave their flank, then we'll move," Sherif said. He raised his palms to calm the crew.

Menas' eyes rested, staring at his crew helmet sitting atop the scope. He picked it up and put it on.

Ayman adjusted his helmet as he pressed his foot onto the pedal. "Here we go," he groaned. "Again."

"Lead the way, El-Rayes," Ayman called Sherif.

Sherif fastened his headgear, shifting in his seat.

"Our unit is accompanying a convoy of SAM systems to the frontlines so our unit can advance," he said.

"We have to be there before sunset," Sherif asserted.

The engine roared to life.

The cabin shuddered as the tank left the hideout. Sand slid from its tread. Metal squealed as the tank wobbled.

A beige tarp covered the makeshift base, built from stacked rusty cargo containers.

Rachid stood with his arms crossed, feet shoulder-width apart. His eyes switched between his watch and the entrance, waiting for the crew to arrive.

His leg began to tap. The sun had already set. They were late.

He glanced over his shoulder, checking the TELs packed with surface-to-air missile systems.

The whole team had gone inside their metal boxes. They were waiting for Rachid's call.

Then, a distant rumbling pulled Rachid's eyes toward the entrance.

Sand kicked up at the entrance. The tank rolled in.

Rachid returned to one TEL sitting behind him, patting its track skirt.

"Get going, boys!" he yelled through the tank's roar.

Sherif popped out of the hatch, wearing his helmet. He braced himself against the turret and waved at Rachid.

Rachid waved back, then pointed his thumb at the TEL's rear.

Sherif frowned, then nodded. His eyes followed him running to the back of the TEL.

He heard the door shut.

"Lieutenant Benali to El-Temsah, radio check, over," Rachid's audio crackled.

Sherif flinched, pressing his crew helmet. "Loud and clear, brother." He sank back inside and pulled the hatch shut.

He glanced at Ayman and tilted his head toward the front.

Ayman turned back to his periscope and engaged the levers.

"Where's everybody at?" Rachid asked.

"The tank unit's outside, guarding the complex," Sherif said.

"We need to hurry," Rachid said, worried.

Sherif shook his head. "Forgive our delay."

Then he adjusted the switchboard on his lap.

"All tanks, leave the assembly area and guard the convoy," Sherif ordered, pressing the transmitter. "I repeat. All tanks, leave the assembly area and guard the convoy."

"Copy that," the radio answered.

"Copy," the other said.

"El-Temsah, my TEL will lead the way," Rachid's voice crackled.

"Slow down for Rachid's vehicle, Ayman," Sherif ordered.

Ayman glanced over his shoulder, nodding at Sherif. The AFV appeared in the periscope, speeding past.

"AFV in front, El-Rayes," he reported, eyes glued to the scope.

"Menas, keep a lookout for enemy movements," Sherif ordered.

"Yes, sir," he said.

"It's gonna be a long ride," Ramy said, arms crossed.

Sherif looked ahead, hearing the turret squeal as Menas scanned the surroundings.

He rested in his seat, sighing. His vision blurred, eyes grew heavy.

Blinking one last time, Sherif plunged into a deep sleep.