In a brief moment when the wind changes direction, the signal picks up.. "... ANOTHER dirty bomb, the... *static* ..this week. Please! stay ins..." *static* You thank god you got out in time, but stop and think, and really thank the guy you had on the inside. A faction war the likes Torn had never seen. Bombings left and right. Not a Neumune Tablet in sight. No flights in or out, probably ever again.
*The sandstorm buffets your camp*