alertcommando | Operation: Not-So-Lone-Guardian

Annabelle makes one last head shot and slides back into the transport, grinning. The ramp is much clearer now.

"Good idea, I hate healing up from gunshot wounds," she jokes as she puts the vest on. "Should I stick with the rifle or switch to the pistols?"

The Soviets may be very surprised once they realize that the transport only has two people in it....

"Oh, as you prefer, hon." Tanya locks the controls to slip on her ballistic vest. "There's only six left, I don't think they will be any challenge."

That is not overconfidence, that is a fact.

"The pistols, then. They'll be faster if the Soviets aren't obliging enough to stand in front of one another." Annabelle is quite capable of using two pistols to aim at two different targets at the same time.

With these two? It's definitely fact.

A last check of the weapons, and Tanya guides the transport up the ramp; a deafening noise rises as the remaining Reds waste ammo on the armored skin of the transport.

The vehicle advances enough to make the conscripts move, and Tanya uses the time to slip on the backpack containing the comm beacon. "On three." She draws one of her pistols, reaching for the lever that opens the large rear hatch.

Annabelle rolls her eyes at the sound of wasted ammo, amateurs. She has both pistols out and ready to go by the time Tanya opens the rear hatch.

If there are any visible Soviets when the door comes down, they're going to be treated to a sight straight out of the movies: Annabelle firing both pistols at once and still hitting two of them between the eyes.

They are all there. And did not learn anything about the dangers of just charging in: it is just tragic, to come halfway or more around the world, to die in a stupid way...

Tanya did this many times before, line her gun with the target, pull the trigger twice, move to the next target, knowing the first bullet will hit the soldier in the neck, tear apart flesh, blood vessels and sever the spine. That alone would be enough to cause a relatively quick death, but is helped by the second bullet entering the 2"x3" head killzone of eyes and nose, smashing thin bone and causing massive brain damage.

Time slows down to a crawl in those moments as she methodically follows the mantra of the special forces. Be one with the battle yet transcend it. Float above the action, survey the scene, target immediate threats, and dispatch them with ruthless efficiency. Watch your fields of fire, pick your targets, aim, squeeze the trigger.

The first three are not yet fully down, not yet fully dead (just a fraction of second away) and the Commando is already firing upon another enemy. That one actually has time enough to start understanding that he was lied to, that they are not invincible, that... nothing.

Nothing, because like his comrade a moment before, before he could raise his gun, 200 grains of death traveling at just above speed of sound tears apart his trachea and spine. The pain did not even register yet, drowned by the flow of adrenaline, when a second projectile wipes off his mind by destroying its organic receptacle.

Annabelle doesn't have a mantra, but she does have a fairly simple plan: 1) Watch Tanya's back, 2) Kill the enemy, and 3) Don't die (again). Thus far, this seems to be working out very well for her.

Two more shots, faster than a striking snake, and the last half dozen of the initial welcoming committee are dying or dead.

That was what? Four seconds? Five? Time seems to resume its pace, and Tanya climbs down the ramp to the ground. "All clear." The park is empty, for now. "Let's move, the strike back starts when Fort Bradley comes back into the defense grid."

North. The commando takes point, knowing Annabelle will take good care of her back.

That sounds about right, these two work very quickly. Annabelle reloads, nodding in agreement, and follows Tanya North.

Anything that tries to mess with Tanya is going to have to get past Annabelle first, which wouldn't be an easy task even for a soldier with something like Annabelle's Inspiration...

Death has come for the Soviets, most of them just don't know it yet.

Death and defeat.

They meet with three more patrols of soviet paratroopers on the way to the fort. The third one even tries an ambush on the deadly duo.

Aw, they're learning. Not that it will do them much good.

Call it luck, call it instinct, but something tips Annabelle off that the ambush is coming. "I think we're going to have trouble shortly," she warns Tanya.

She twists and dives out of the way of a bullet aimed by a Soviet paratrooper with his rifle only just visible over the edge of a roof. There's nothing of him visible to aim at, but even a gun barrel is a target when you're Annabelle Newfield.

Annabelle puts a bullet straight down the barrel of his rifle, and the ensuing explosion in the paratrooper's hands is likely to result in a fair amount of screaming in pain.

Oh, Tanya knew there was a special reason to bring Annabelle along: with the screaming and cursing from Conscript number one, Conscript number two raises his head just a bit too much.

He might not be dead, depending on the quality of his helmet, but Tanya at least redefined 'headache' for him. "We have to move, the Fort is a half mile away, and it will not take a genius to guess where we are going."

Also, there is a good chance the Fort is surrounded by paratroopers, and they might have to fight their way in.

"It is a bit obvious," Annabelle says with a nod.

Conscripts three, four, and five are holed up behind some substantial cover. Unfortunately, they picked cover near a crane that is holding a rather large steel beam.

Annabelle decides to give them a lesson on the finer points of the laws of motion as an extra special present. *Bang* goes Annabelle's pistol, and one end of the beam swings behind their cover like a scythe through wheat. If any of them ever get up again, it won't be anytime soon.

Tanya laughs at the display... "Oh, I have to use that one when I get the chance." With the break on the fight, Tanya makes a dash for another safe spot, and stops to give cover to Annabelle.

Her eyes are bright, and a smile tugs at the corners of Tanya's mouth: she knows War is a bad thing, and is really angry at the misery and destruction, but oh god, it is good to be back in action, doing what she does best.

Feeling alive.

Pot, meet kettle. A sword can be beaten into a plowshare, but people are not so malleable. Some folks are born, or tempered by fire, so that they're not really suited for peace.

Annabelle doesn't like War or killing, but she craves pushing her own capabilities to the limit, dancing on the razor's edge between success and despair. Annabelle's laughter in response to Tanya's comment isn't mad, but fiercely joyous. (No matter what Whitley Styles might have to say on the subject.)

"I never could resist an appreciative audience," Annabelle replies with a grin, still laughing. (The laughter is probably hurting Soviet morale rather badly, if any of them are still breathing.)

Annabelle moves and takes another head shot while Tanya gives her cover. For all that this is their first battle working closely together like this, they're almost moving as one....

Similar personalities, talents, interests, not too dissimilar backgrounds.

It is very easy for Tanya to match and complement Annabelle's skills, just a matter of knowing the other woman is at least as good.

Training and instinct take care of the rest.

As they approach the Fort, the soviet patrols increase both in number and frequency; when the Fort area comes actually in sight, the two women have to actually fight for each yard of terrain they cross, and soon will have to pick up discarded guns to continue. The good news is that what they get is the workhorse of infantry weapons, the venerable and dependable AKM-47.

And they can use it so much better than the Reds... "You can speak bad of almost everything they make, but damn, they know how to build guns."

"We need to get closer so I can signal the Fort." They found plenty of ammo but no grenades, so clearing paratrooper-garrisoned positions has to be done 'by hand'.

Annabelle picks up the entirely new guns as they move along. She's never seen them before, but it doesn't matter.

Annabelle sighs as they reach yet another garrisoned position. "Remind me to bring grenades next time, will you?"

Annabelle assists with the moving closer by firing a burst into the garrisoned position. One of the Soviets manages to return fire, but the glancing shot is absorbed by the vest. Annabelle hits him in the head.

Since Annabelle has that position under control, Tanya starts on the next garrison. "Fifty yards or so and I can drop signal smoke."

As soon as Fort Bradley is back in the Grid, Command can start chronoshifting reinforcements directly in, and the Battle of New York will roll to a smooth end.

The commando hits two soviet conscripts and moved ahead a bit more for a better shot at the others.

Annabelle nods and finishes off the remaining conscripts at her position.

Then, something moving catches her eye, and a conscript that looked as if he was thinking about shooting Tanya ends up losing most of his head to a short burst of bullets.

It's going to be brutal and ugly work, taking out the remaining conscripts in those fifty yards, but these two will manage it.

It is only... well, 20 conscripts or so. Not that much of a challenge, and even less as Tanya launches the blue smoke signal.

And the 7th of Cavalry comes to the rescue... in the form of suppressive fire giving cover. "And there we are hon. Let's go." A simple straight 200 yard brisk march from cover to cover to the gates.

Annabelle grins when the smoke signal is launched and the suppressive cover fire arrives. "It's about time," Annabelle calls out. "We wouldn't want to hog all the fun," she adds with a wink.

Annabelle is whistling as they march up to the gate.

Special Agents Tanya Adams and Annabelle Newfield are very much welcome: after twqo hours of fighting in the city they can sit, rest... and reload, while in the open space of the vehicle patio the air ripples and shines while tanks and armored troop carriers materialize, delivering reinforcements to the city.

Twenty-seven vehicles carrying a total of a hundred soldiers are transferred in, enough to make Fort Bradley too strong for the paratrooper squads the Soviets peppered the city with. With a secure ground base, transport choppers begin to deliver more troops and materiel.

Tanya sits down beside Annabelle, finally able to relax a bit. "At least here we stopped them. Just spoke General Carville, he is sending in the Navy and more ground troops to secure the state and form a backup position. The rest of the east coast forces is assembling at South Carolina to move into Florida."

Special agent? Well, it's probably a simpler explanation than the truth.

"That we did," Annabelle says with a bright grin. "Florida, hm? Are we headed there or somewhere else?"

"Hm, if you are still up for more, there is a detachment heading north to take care of a supply depot the Reds set up in a marina."

"It would be rude not to pay our neighbors a visit," Annabelle jokes with a sharp grin. "Although I'm not sure what your forces are likely to think of me tagging along."

Operation: Not-So-Lone-Guardian

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