alertcommando | Just Another Day of War

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Just Another Day of War

The door takes them to the main area of a ruined church: pews and benches are missing, the altar is empty and dusty, ruined by time and weather. Outside a broken window nearby the sun is setting, a gorgeous orange ball at which they can look directly. That night, the wind would blow in to add another layer of dust to what had been burying the small dead city for the last three years.

The whitish dust lay over everything, covering the streets and the open spaces, starting the work of hiding the small houses that had been crushed and made into rubble by soviet artillery and their massive tanks.

It is quiet. Like a cemetery. "And here we are."

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"Oh, yes. Hans, can you bring them here?" The man nods, and departs. Tanya gathers the Milliways people for a last revision of the plan:

- Explosives destroy the road behind and ahead of the truck convoy;

- Rocket Propelled Grenades destroy the armored troop carriers, or at least damage them a lot;

- Snipers disable the hummers and provide cover;

- Four groups of Militia assault the convoy and eliminate any remaining resistance.

After that, it is a matter of loot everything they can or want to take, destroy the rest and disappear. If all goes well, they will be back at Milliways in time for lunch.

Petra stands at the end of the meeting a smile on her face.

"I love when plans are simple..."

"Don't let your guard down," Ryan warns, giving the pup a look. "It's all too easy for something, or someone, to slip up and send everything pear-shaped."

And learning the hard way sucks.

Petra blinks at Ryan.

"This is not my first war." She has a sudden epiphany of the strange looks she has been getting since arriving here from Milliways.

"I suppose you know nothing about me... I was trained from age five in battle command, and at fourteen served as the first sub commander in the war against the buggers then for the last five years I have lead the armies of the Hegemon to reclaim peace for my world." Her voice is quiet and she speaks quickly to avoid allowing Hans or any other Tanya-era soldier. "I look young, but I have fourteen years of experience."

Annabelle nods at the explanation of the plan, and raises an eyebrow at Petra's explanation that she started training at 5. Her world's situation must have been unusual to allow for such a thing.
"Let's hope that things go mostly according to plan, at least."

That is what is epected.

Tanya will then arrange the final details: Annabelle and Ryan can meet up with their Spotters, both of whom do speak english well and had training for the job, and Petra will meet with her 'mop-up' squad.

It turns out the night over might be much necessary to work out finer details, but they should have time enough to relax and stretch out...

...or for hunting.

Annabelle isn't planning on going anywhere until morning, although she'll be asking her spotter about the weak points on Hummers.

With the powerful .338 magnun rounds, the young man recommends two shots on the engine, dead center of the front hood of the car. The third shot should be against the gunner operating the light machinegun the vehicle mounts.

Ryan listens politely as well and even has a go at the rations because he knows it isn't the best of ideas to wander off alone.

But the rations leave a lot to be desired for.

"North woods, you said? Any passwords I should know before heading out?"

Annabelle nods, and thanks the young man for his advice. She's wondering if she might be able to kill the engine in a single shot, but finding that out can wait until tomorrow.

If anyone seems amenable, Annabelle may end up telling slightly modified stories of her adventures until it's time to catch some sleep.

Annabelle's a light sleeper, especially when she's in a situation like this.

Petra stays just long enough to watch the demonstration, thank the young man and then hook up with her group.

Once again she faces strange looks and sighs inwardly. She asks them to enumerate their talents, encouraging the other group members to pitch in if one is overstating or understating their abilities. She then gives them their positions and explains their role in the fighting from a commanders position.

Tanya gives Ryan the pass-codes he needs to leave and return safely. The War seems to have gone well for wildlife, since deer are rather plentiful, making the quest for fresh meat an easy endeavor.

Annabelle will discover the bedrolls are very comfortable, considering how it is a temporary camp.

Petra finds out that past the initial shock, her unit listens closely, recognizing a skilled and confident commander. She has available a mix of close combat and long range, competent but rather basic guerrilla fighters who know to follow orders and able to keep their cool under fire.

We could be dramatic and say Ryan disappears into the night, but, really, he just walks north away from the camp and into the dark.

Which is how he ends up being the first one with blood on his uniform. At least the material's black so the stains don't show. He comes loping up out of the dark a few hours later, a misshapen silhouette. Once he's called out the pass-codes to the guards, they realize this is because he is carrying the majority of a deer over his shoulders, cleaned, with one leg missing.

What, you didn't think he could eat a whole one by himself, did you?

"Leftovers for whoever wants them," he says quietly so as not to wake the rest of the camp. That might be a speck of blood at the corner of his mouth, but it's hard to tell in this light. "I'm headed for my cot," he informs them as he sets the carcass down.

There's nothing like a good night's sleep after a big meal.

Petra happens to not see Ryan come in because she is finishing up with her group. They understood their orders and strategy, and had spent an hour-or-so getting-to-know one another. With what could only be called a cheerful farewell Petra waves the squad off to sleep, and makes her way to the edge of camp- a place where the light hit her back, but then began to fade.

She finds a dry spot and sits herself down, staring into the blackness to wait for the next day.

The bedroll is comfortable, but Annabelle never sleeps well in potentially hostile territory. She's up and awake well before she needs to be.

One hour before sunrise, they can take off. The road is not far, and the group has a half hour to set explosives, take up sniper positions, hide for the ambush...

And then, 'long' 15 minutes of wait until the convoy is seen approaching.

A perfect calm settles over Petra as she and her squad fade into the brush on one of the small escape holes marked on Tanya's map. She watches the road, the smallest smile on her face.

Without the scope, Ryan can barely make out any details at all along the road. With it, everything is crystal clear.

He can feel the cold ground underneath him starting to warm from his own metabolism as he waits for the convoy to appear. And even then, he has to wait till they reach a certain point before he starts shooting. He also has to make sure the sunlight doesn't shine off his lens and give his position away. Not his first time doing this, no.

Doesn't mean he can't start taking aim now.

Annabelle and her spotter are in position. The scope on the rifle gives her a far greater visual range than she's used to, so she waits with predatory eagerness until her targets reach the right position. When they do, she'll finally find out if she can take out their engines in a single shot.

The convoy approaches, at a regular speed of 45 miles per hour or close to it: The guards seem alert, holding to their weapons in a relaxed but not lax stance. Everything seems to be going well...

Until the moment the road flies to pieces ahead and behind, and the hummers, armored cars and trucks have to slam on brakes, barely avoiding collisions. That signals the second stage of the attack, the groups armed with RPG's firing the explosive warheads at the APC's tracks to disable them.

Caught by surprise by the violence of the attack, the soviet guards react slowly, too late to prevent stage three: the four assault groups strike with concentrated, close-range gunfire... under the cover of the snipers.

Prime targets are hummer engines and hummer gunners who will try to turn the light machinegun of the vehicle against the assault groups. The assault groups under the command of Tanya, Petra and the two other german commandos have to tangle with the guards on the trucks and the soldiers leaving the APC's.

Annabelle smiles as the explosions go off and stage three begins. The first bullet will be headed towards the center of a Hummer's engine. With a Daredevil's luck, that may be enough to kill it. The next shot, as fast as Annabelle can manage it, will either go towards killing the engine or the unfortunate soul who is manning the gun on top of the Hummer.

It's going to be a very bad day for anyone wearing a Soviet uniform.

Petra waits for the most opportune moment, then signals her troops. They stay quiet until they reach the convoy then pause at the edge of the fight. Calmly and coolly they fire upon the soldiers as they leave the APCs, only a few managing to get out from the targeted vehicle un-dead.

Petra signals her troops to spread out more, and advance to take advantage of cover a few abandoned tanks nearby offer.

Ryan aims for a Hummer engine of his own to destroy. He doesn't rush, merely takes the wind into account and fires twice to be certain the car is dead.

Then he's moving on to the people scurrying about, taking out whoever looks most dangerous first.

He's finding his time at the RED base is proving useful.

It is a bad, bad day to be a Red Soldier.

The environment is target-rich; the only coordinated opposition comes from the armored vehicles and the surviving soldiers from the hummers, and even those can not resist long while under crossfire.

The technicians and drivers, non-commissioned personnel, display an astounding level of strategic awareness and tactical guile, jumping face down to the ground and putting hands behind their heads: survival instincts at its best.

It is over in less than a minute, all the soldiers who tried to fight are dead, perhaps a dozen surrendered and were not shot.

A quick and clean job, Charlie did not come dance the foxtrot, Murphy was not invited to the party and the plan survived enemy contact unscathed.

Pet's group spreads out tying up those who surrendered, making sure the dead are dead, and doing general post-battle mop up. She herself helps, but makes sure to drift by all of her soldiers with a quiet word. Other then that, she says very little.

No reason to make the enemy think she is anything different from what she claims, yes? And that Armenian accent still does not come naturally.

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