Operation: Not-So-Lone-Guardian

[alertcommando]

The door opens into what seems to be a warehouse, but a quick look around reveals it to be a boathouse, a large one. Tied to the enclosed pier, a U.S. Navy Amphibious troop transport waits for the combatants. Lined up near the transport are weapons, scuba gear and four 20 gallon metal drums.

Comments

[alertcommando]

"Ben Carville. General Ben Carville, my sort-of-commander?" Tanya pokes her friend. "I would much sooner hook up with Lieutenant Eva."

Soon the transport stops again, and it is time to strap on the air tanks and climb out. "This should be easy... just follow the directions on the diver's display, and set the drums as close to dead center of the lower hull as you can."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Oh, that Ben," Annabelle replies, eyes sparkling with repressed laughter. "I may have to meet this Lieutenant Eva, if she's caught your interest." It's a friend's job to check out potential significant others to make sure they're up to par, right?

"Follow the directions, aim for the middle, don't hang around too long?" Annabelle confirms. "Let's go blow up some boats."

[alertcommando]

Tanya smiles and nods, helping Anna belle out into the water with her diver helper and her two drums, then climbing out herself. "We meet back here soon, okay?"

No 'good luck' thing, everybody knows that wishing 'good luck' in a moment like this is bad luck.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle grins at Tanya, "Right."

Being on top of the Atlantic Ocean involved getting cold and wet, going under it....also involves cold and wet, only with the added 'benefit' of lower light. Annabelle does not approve.

Annabelle makes her way through the water to the first boat, hopefully without coming to the enemy's attention. Then it's time to set the charge and move on.

[alertcommando]

It is a large thing.

Very large. The drums have neutral buoyancy, so the task of raising them up to the hull is simple. The top of the drum fits to the curve of the metal plates, and a bit of quick work with the underwater soldering tools secures them firmly.

One done, one to go. Right now Tanya must be doing the same thing.

[aeons_crackshot]

It's a bit unnerving how easy it is to affix explosive death to the hull. After double checking that everything is affixed correctly, Annabelle will move on to her next target and repeat the process.

If all goes well, she should be back at their meeting spot soon...

[alertcommando]

Not a thing stirs, not a thing seems amiss; once she is free of the second bomb, Annabelle can make quick way back to the transport.

Tanya joins her a minute or two later, and they can haul the divers back in. "No problems?"

[aeons_crackshot]

"Not that I could tell," Annabelle replies as she wrings some of the Atlantic Ocean out of her hair. "How about you?"

[alertcommando]

"No problems." Tanya grins, handing Annabelle a towel. "Ready to make some ship wreckage?"

And just before an answer can be uttered, both can hear the sound of the dreadnoughts' missile batteries firing. From the side window of the transport they can see the Reds are bombarding Miss Liberty, and the statue shakes, starting to fall.

"Bastards!" The commando's voice is full of shock and anger.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle's response has less English in it, but the tone and content are much the same. Sometimes a statue is more than a statue, and seeing Miss Liberty fall hurts like a punch to the gut.

Annabelle's expression is cold and dangerous, "Let's make sure they don't get much of a chance to celebrate."

[alertcommando]

The commando is already reaching for the remotes: checking, arming, then pressing a button.

The closest of the dreadnoughts, a half mile away, shudders, shakes, then snaps in two, flames and shrapnel erupting in a half second of destruction. Tanya almost snarls, flipping the second arming switch and pressing the red button, making the next ship join the first in oblivion, the special charges cutting metal like a hot knife cuts butter, igniting fuel and detonating stores of ammunition.

She makes a pause. Deliberate, so the crews and captains of the other two ships can see the fiery destruction and realize they are next.

Flip arming switch. Green light. Red Button. Fiery destruction. One to go.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle starts a bit when the first dreadnought explodes. Knowing theoretically what will happen and actually seeing it are two very different things.

Annabelle doesn't actually say anything, but her expression is one of grim satisfaction as Tanya moves to send the last ship to join its brothers.

[alertcommando]

Tanya arms the last charge... but then offers the detonator to Annabelle, a treat for her friend.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle shakes her head, "It's...right that you should finish off all of them." It's Tanya's home they're invading, after all. In any case, the impersonal nature of the explosives makes Annabelle a bit uneasy.

[alertcommando]

She nods, and just blows up the last one. No ceremony, no hesitations. "Come on, we have to deliver the comm beacon now." The transport is restarted, and they can head to the nearest shore.

[aeons_crackshot]

"Right," Annabelle says with a nod. "Can we get out of these wet suits, or are we going to have to do any more swimming?"

[alertcommando]

"Sure. I have to change too." While the transport crosses the water to the shoreline, Tanya will strip and get back into her BDU's too.

"Making landfall in a couple minutes. I see red paratroopers gathering on the shore, care to pop the upper hatch and convince them to move out of the way?" Ahead there is a park area with a boat ramp, much convenient to getting into land, but a dozen conscripts are taking position to stop the transport.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle's changing out of her wetsuit is accompanied by the occasional curse or squelching noise, but she is finally successful in getting the suit to let go.

Annabelle grins, "Certainly." Annabelle readies her rifle and pops the hatch. The conscripts are about to learn the hard way that bunching up is a bad idea, as Annabelle's first shot hits one conscript between the eyes and passes through his skull to kill the man behind him.

[alertcommando]

That is a weakness of the soviet troops they did not learn to overcome yet: fighting in formation even when in small units.

But they learn fast, scattering for cover as Annabelle hits two with one bullet. A few of them return fire, but it is wasted brass since the transport is still out of range.

[aeons_crackshot]

Her second shot hits another Conscript between the eyes and maims his friend as the soldiers are trying to scatter.

The scattering makes Annabelle's shots less efficient, but no less deadly.

One of the conscipts peers out of his hiding spot just a little too long in an attempt to return fire. It will be the last mistake he ever makes.

[alertcommando]

"Come back in when you need to reload and put on your vest, hon." Tanya aims the transport to the ramp. "We will go right once we stop and out of the park." That route takes them northwards presumably to the Fort.

Driving the transport all the way there would be a bit too conspicuous; besides, on foot they can get past roadblocks that would lethally slow down a vehicle not meant for combat.

And it is more fun to get hands dirty, right? The Battle of New York, Stage II of Operation Lone Guardian, starts now.

[aeons_crackshot]

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....

[alertcommando]

"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.

[aeons_crackshot]

"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.

[alertcommando]

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.