alertcommando | Operation: Fallout

Annabelle swears, having given up entirely on the rifle by now. She needs both her pistols firing nearly continuously just to help stem the human tide.

Foot by foot, covering each other with machinegun and assault rifle fire, the reds climb the hill, closer and closer. They pay dearly for the advance, but soon it will time to vacate the position. More planes are seen in the horizon, bringing enemy reinforcements.

"Grenades!" Calls the officer. "Mortars. Prepare for a fighting retreat." And hopefully the reds will not give chase after losing about half their forces.

Tanya discards the empty rifle and draws her pistols, ready to provide cover to the squad. At the same time, the Reds intensify their fire barrage, readying for a new advance.

Annabelle does not like retreating, not one bit. But it is necessary. (If only because she's likely to catch Hell if she gets herself killed.)

On the other hand, this is a good time to use those grenades, no? The Reds will find out that Annabelle can do interesting things with grenades, sending them in by ricochet or at improbable angles to hit otherwise unreachable targets.

A good grenade volley, and they have an opening to start back. But a moment later, the Reds are recovering and advancing again.

The next moment the first line of attackers is torn apart by something. The sound of the high-speed shell arrives a fraction of a second later. Reinforcements have arrived, but... where are they?

Annabelle would like to know the answer to that question. "Not that I'm not grateful," she shouts over the noise. "But what the Hell is that?!"

That, are HEAT rounds being used on infantry. Oh, explosive shells would be better, but forcing the reds to scatter as they quickly realize groups are a bad idea works too.

"No fucking idea..." Then Tanya is interrupted by a crackling on her radio. It's another glorious day in the Corps. A day in the Corps is like a day on the farm: every meal's a banquet, every paycheck a fortune, every formation's a parade! I LOVE the Corps! There is some hooting, then the voice returns. Sorry we are late, ladies and gentlemen, hope you left something for us.

Annabelle grins at the voice's comment. "Oh, I think you'll find enough to keep you busy," she adds with a chuckle.

Now, if you will step to the left a bit... your left. The big eye in the sky says the reds are sending Tanks along the road, and your hilltop looks like a fine sniping place. Annabelle probably notices the distorting of the camouflage fields and the multiple tank track trails appearing on the snow.

Annabelle obliges them. "Nice," she says with a grin as the tank tracks appear.

She's switching over to the sniper rifle now, as she needs its armor piercing capabilities. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to fill me in on weak spots on those tanks before our dance card gets full again?"

Ma'am, those are Mammoth tanks. You will see what they are about.

"Fucking invisible tanks. I knew Einstein was working on a portable form of gap generator, but..." Tanya shakes head. "Apocalypse Tanks have no weak spots. Come on, you will see."

The commando follows the stealthed units back up, and scans the road far ahead. Doing the same, Annabelle will see the enormous dual-barreled tanks advancing with an escort of smaller vehicles and V3 Rocket Launcher trucks. "The Soviets wanted a mobile battle platform that could go into combat unescorted, the Apoc is it."

Annabelle is not happy about the tanks supposed lack of weak spots on the tanks.

"Damn, those things are big," she mutters. "I suppose I'll have to focus on the smaller vehicles."

"Sit back and watch." Tanya grins, tugging her friend back. The other soldiers and militia back off too, since by the tracks there is a half dozen stealthed tanks lined up on the hilltop.

The Russian armored column enters their like of sight, and they start sniping at the vehicles with their anti-tank weapons, only a shuffle of the snow with the recoil and a brief muzzle flash revealing their presence.

"...I think we should head downhill and make sure the Reds in the area don't get ideas." The officer in charge of the squad agrees.

Oh, look, that was an Apoc going up in flames after being hammered with antitank ammo. And that was a rocket launcher. "Besides I think this position is about to be bombarded."

"Sounds good to me," Annabelle agrees.

Well, what do you know? There were Soviet patrols downhill that were trying to sneak around the death by tank fire that's currently going on.

The first patrol was in reasonably good shape, but then Annabelle, Tanya and the SEALs happened. Most had no idea what hit them until it was far too late.

There are other patrols, but they don't fare any better. Especially when Annabelle gets creative and uses the sniper rifle to destabilize a cliff face and bury most of a platoon under a large pile of rocks.

Oh, they are a small part of a large battle, but a very active part: with their cover and strike, they keep the Mirage Tanks from being discovered long enough.

The fight drags on along the day, and by nightfall the Red Army retreats to their temporary bases as Allied forces arrive and consolidate the occupation and defense of the area.

For the third time, General Vladimir is soundly defeated.

Tanya and Anabelle can finally stop to rest with a mixed group of army and militia, camped near the wreckage of an Apocalypse tank.

Rest is good, very good. She's grimy, tired and sore, but otherwise unharmed.

Annabelle pokes the Tank wreckage with one toe, experimentally. She gives Tanya a weary grin. "How're you holding up, champ?"

Tank wreckages are good for breaking the cold winds from a winter night. "A bit tired. But I did this in other times for eleven days nonstop." Really, eleven hours of combat are nothing.

A soldier comes over with warmed field rations, offering them to the two women. It is not good food, but it is, well, warm.

Annabelle thanks the soldier for the rations. She's eaten worse than anything the military is likely to cook up.

"Eleven days nonstop, eh? Trying to make me look like a wimp?" she teases.

Tanya laughs and shakes head. "Eleven days of blood and mud and soot and running around. Sleeping on average four hours out of each 24." She takes a spoonful of the meal, a broth with some meatlike granules, cooked dried vegetables and noddles.

Okay, how long until Annabelle notices she's being watched by the guys?

Watched, in a good 'that-way'.

Probably quite some time. Annabelle was never the quickest at picking up on that sort of thing.

"Yet more proof that the good old days never existed," Annabelle jokes.

The MRE is not toxic or actively trying to escape, so Annabelle has no qualms about eating it.

Tanya eats in silence for a bit. But after halfway through her meal, she nudges Annabelle slyly. "You have a fan club."

Annabelle glances at Tanya, blinking a bit in surprise. "How do you know it isn't you who has the fan club?" she asks with a smirk.

"Look at them." When she does, the guys all look away, trying to act nonchalant.

"I am the Though Commando. You are the gorgeous mysterious woman."

Annabelle rolls her eyes playfully. "I will admit that I've never seen that many nonchalant faces in one place before."

She grins. "He'll find it amusing, I'm sure." Him being Connor.

"The lucky guy." Tanya smirks and stretches. "And from the way you smile, lucky you too?"

Annabelle smirks back at her. "Oh, absolutely," she replies with a chuckle. If she's a trifle smug, well, she has reason to be.

Operation: Fallout

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