alertcommando | Operation: Fallout

"Vladimir is on thin ice: he will not give up easily." Tanya loads the fresh clips in her guns and starts to the hill. "After being beaten back, I am sure Romanov and Yuri will want his head if he loses again."

Tanya is absolutely not smirking as she says that.

Nope.

Annabelle is not smirking too, for the record.

"Tragic," she drawls. "He's going to learn the hard way to be more particular about who he works for."

"With just a bit of luck, in a week or so he will be dangling by his neck at the end of a rope in front of the Kremlin." And right now, that is a very comforting thought.

Approaching the hill, Tanya gives a few beeps on her radio, an IFF code obviously, and they are allowed to climb unopposed. At the top they meet with a SEAL squad and some militia: they have a couple machineguns and mortars and are busy digging and moving things to set up positions.

To east and northwest of their position the main battle is raging, marked by the distant sound of gunfire and cannon, while high above planes clash.

"A thought to warm the cockles of your heart," Annabelle replies with a grin.

Once they've climbed the hill and met their allies, she keeps glancing toward the main battle, eager to get going.

Oh, they will have work enough right there: soviet planes are approaching with their cargo of paratroopers. Tanya is observing with binoculars. "Ukrainian Antonovs. Five of them which means some two hundred paratroopers."

The SEAL officer beside her shakes head. "We probably can hold them off for a while, but they have the numbers to encircle us."

"Or to walk past." Tanya shakes head. "Annabelle can snipe them from here and slow them down. Some mortar fire will help too."

Why yes, Tanya plans to draw the Reds for a 10-to-1 battle, why?

The officer gives a nod. "We have to hold for three to five hours, until reinforcements can arrive."

Because she can?

Annabelle has borrowed another pair of binoculars from one of the SEALs. She's examining the approaching planes for potential weak points. Why shoot individual paratroopers when you can take out the plane, after all?

She nods in response to Tanya's statement. "Might even be able to shoot the planes down, if they're low enough."

"If they are dumb enough to get close..." Tanya smirks. "They might come low enough for you to snipe a pilot."

Oh yes, armor-piercings rounds versus plane windshields. "It will not make them crash outright, but a forced landing should soften them up."

"A girl can hope," she teases.

She grins at the SEAL commander. "We'll soften them up for you, even if we end up having to dance with one of them at a time."

The man smirks and nods. "We will try to not get in your way, ma'am." After all, everybody knows Tanya's fame and of those she associates with.

Still far out, the planes make a slight turn to the right (left of the defenders), and the SEAL grunts. "They will swing back left and drop the paratroopers already in lines. There is a gap on the woods over there, with an old road, a good place for a low-altitude drop."

Incidentally, the swing-left will turn the lead plane's nose to a nice sniping angle for Annabelle...

Annabelle nods. They're professionals, she's sure they won't be any trouble.

She follows the plane with her eyes, waiting for the plane to make that left turn. One heartbeat, two...there.

Annabelle's rifle makes a muffled crack as she fires at the plane. The armor piercing bullet laughs at the weak windshield glass and the comparatively soft skull of the pilot. He never even knows what hits him, although everyone else in that plane is likely to notice his head exploding and the plane suddenly being without a pilot.

Annabelle reloads and sights again. If she needs to, she'll take out anyone brave enough to spring to the controls, otherwise....well, there are lots of planes.

Cue nineteen mouths hanging open, and one commando smirking as Annabelle sends the first, then the second plane tumbling down to a crash. Not a fiery one, but a hard crash indeed.

The shock is not any lesser among the Reds, one of the planes actually banking hard and away, and the other two delaying the paratroop drop. With a few well-placed bullets, the blonde woman cut down the enemy's forces by one-third, and maybe even by half.

It depends on how many of the soldiers in the downed planes are still in fighting shape...

Annabelle will firmly deny cackling in glee at the look on their faces.

"Come on now, gentlemen," she says with a wink. "You don't want to catch flies now, do you?" She's basking in the admiration, of course. (Once a performer, always a performer.)

She frowns at the retreating plane. "Well, looks like that one's got more braincells to rub together. Pity."

"They will be back, as soon as someone reminds the pilot that he will be shot as a deserter if he flies back to base." Tanya picks up an assault rifle. "By the numbers, boys. We are about to be attacked."

The soldiers recover quickly, taking positions on the hilltop to draw the second attack wave.

Annabelle nods in understanding. She'll keep any eye out for any more planes trying to make a drop, but most of her attention will be directed toward anyone approaching on the ground.

They can't all have died in the crash, after all.

Well, two planes did the drop normally. Or almost so. The fifth plane returns after a bit, dopes its drop cautiously, out of effective range, and the force that initiates the assault on the hill ends numbering something over ten dozen soldiers with machineguns and other squad weapons.

Even with Tanya and Annabelle there, it is a nearly one-sided battle, and the best the defenders can do it bog down the soviet advance and hope reinforcements come soon.

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."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject