Chapter One: The Need for Revenge
The whir of helicopter blades, overwhelmed all other sounds within the American military compound. The ring of training shells striking the ground was barely heard, as the large Night Hawk transport helicopter's engines screamed. There was the indistinguishable sound of a Sergeant giving out orders to boarding marines. Lt. 1st Class Private Ryan Maxwell, saluted the Sergeant. He reached up with a gloved hand, and pulled his burdened muscular body from months of extensive training into the helicopter. He gave the all clear signal to the pilot, while strapping himself into the shoulder restraints. There was an "All Clear." from the control tower. The helicopter's engines screamed once more as the massive machine lifted from the ground. It's rotator blades spinning in a dizzying speed above the canopy. Ryan, still unable to believe the news he had heard, had been glad to take up arms against the threat. How dare those communists destroy the capitol of a proud and dignified country! Sir, we have an ETA of 1 hour." The pilot spoke through his headset microphone, and Ryan gave a simple nod.
There mission was to gain back the capitol at all costs, and to set up a new HQ there and await the higher ups for further orders. Ryan smiled, despite the storm clouds gathering outside the cockpit window. He enjoyed the feel of flying even more than he did being a marine, it made one feel almost as if he were one of those proud birds, eagles. He looked out the window, readjusting his helmet as he watched the scenery passing by. There was the occasional sound of artillery as they closed the distance to the landing zone. "Sir, the LZ is hot. Repeat! The LZ is hot! We're going to have to drop you and go, that means no touch downs. Alert your men!" The pilot spoke clearly into his headset. Ryan nodded, and turned once more to his men.
"The LZ is hot, men. That means that when you hear me say go, that means GO!!! As soon as you have reached a safe point, (he laughed lightly at that), set up your chain guns and lay down cover fire for the other units. Got that? (There was a loud, echoing "Yes, sir.") from each of the men. They knew what this battle meant to the United States, and the rest of the Allies. It meant, REVENGE! The helicopter motors grew silent for a moment, and you could hear the faint clicks as the pilots prepared for the drop off. The large Night Hawk, dropped down skimming the grass. It's rotating blades flattened the grass, and created a ripple effect.
The marines had trained for this, and they expected the sudden outburst of a AK-47. It reverberated off of the outer plating of the cargo bay. The men jumped down, quickly ducking. A few of the privates were taken out, and Ryan radioed in for air support. There was the faint roar, growing in volume as the four Harriers unloaded their missiles into the ruins of a former town where the original outbursts had erupted from. There was a loud whine, and Ryan turned back. Holding on to his helmet, he watched as a Night Hawk descended in a fiery ball to crash on the Earth below. He cursed silently, and ordered a reconnaissance of the local terrain. "Yes, sir." was once more the simple, automated response from the marine. The marine ran off into the distance, only to be cut down by a stray bullet. Ryan cursed again, and inching along through the tall grass he was able to get a look at the city. It was beyond any recognition, and to think a few weeks before this city had been thriving and bustling with people.
There were large craters in the place of towering skyscrapers, and smoldering scraps where high-priced cars had once sat idle. There was still the occasional person roaming around, confused and lost. Ryan ordered some of his unit to escort the people to a safer location. He turned into an alley, and quickly pulled back as a spray of bullets passed within a breadth of where he had just been standing.Pointing the barrel of his assault rifle around the corner, and fired off multiple bursts. When there was no return fire, Ryan ordered a marine to check around the corner. The marine gave the 'All Clear' signal. The unit moved silently and efficiently around the corner. They put the few Communist soldiers out of their misery. The unit quickly moved out through the rest of the ruined city. They countered mild resistance, but at the end of the day. The battle was won, and the capitol once more was in Allied hands. Ryan's unit set up the HQ and prepared for the Allied Command.
Chapter Two: Operation 'Surprise'
The air felt good on the face, after the harshness of the sun had beat it's fury. The wind played a musical song, only it knew. Ryan smiled, and thought about all those people he'd seen waving as the convoy passed through their city. The end of the war was near, they could sense it just as any hardened soldier could. Tears couldn't express the happiness of seeing joy on people's face again, or the sorrow of a lost comrade. The world was a harsh place, and wars didn't help. He refastened his helmet, and lowered the visor to keep out the sun's early rays. Sucking in a deep lungful of fresh air, he lowered himself back into the belly of the beast.
The beast wasn't really a beast. It was one of the Allied's most precious achievements in weaponry. Though nothing in comparison to the monster that is the Apocalypse tank, the Mirage Tank is no weak weapon. Given with advanced technology the ability to become a mirage, and temporarily "disappear" it was almost impossible to hit. It fired a powerful rapid-fire beam that set enemy infantry aflame, and damaged enemy tanks. The most commonly manufactured color was that of a sandy-brown color. It's barrel compared to the Allied's Grizzly Tank is longer and more slender to fire a faster and in most cases more deadly projectile.
Climbing down the ladder to the control compartment of the tank, Ryan radioed in an "A-okay." Sitting in the overly comfortable command chair in comparison to the harshness of the rest of the tank, Ryan looked on his display for any signs of enemy units that he would have been unable to see, but that technology wouldn't. Turning to his right, he rubbed his tired, weary eyes with his gloved fist. Quickly flicking on the 'Mirage' switch before he forgot. That reminded him of a lecturing an old Sergeant of his used to pound into his head. "If the enemy can't see you, then you can become a silent weapon. With nothing to give you away but the lowered mirage when you fired. It's an old saying, "What you can't see, you can't kill." He smiled, and then frowned when he remembered the brutal death that Sergeant had suffered at the hands of the Soviets.
Outside of the compartment, there was a faint sizzling sound in the air as if a bunch of static energy had been compressed and was unable to release. The large, fast-moving tank disappeared to be replaced by that of a young Oak tree. This was the standard 'Mirage' used by the tanks, as it was most commonly found in the United States. A faint rumble on the air was the only slight disturbance that would even hint that your eyes were deceiving you. The tree shimmered as the tank began it's slow acceleration. Till it picked up speed, if one paid enough attention one would notice that a tree would appear to change it's location. The tank's treads didn't disturb the hardened, compacted dirt as it moved along.
Ryan shifted in his seat, attempting to readjust the uncomfortable safety harness. A slow beeping sound came from the equipment as it constantly readjusted the location using the GPS system. Another beep erupted, becoming more violent as if to demand notification. Ryan turned and stared down at the radar, and sure enough there were 2 large red blips moving quickly. Braking quickly, he masterfully turned the tank towards the location. Already aware he was outnumbered, but knowing that he wouldn't be seen as long as he remained dormant. He turned off the powerful engine driving the tank, and there was a slight rumble and then everything was silent and still. There was another sound seeming to come from the ground. The few pebbles scattered around the landscape began to bounce slowly at first but then quicker and quicker as something heavy moved along over the ground.
Coming over the distant hill was two Soviet Flak Tracks. Probably patrolling, Ryan mused silently to himself. The two tanks split off, one heading towards Ryan's location through some silent intuition. Ryan's fingers twitched over the firing controls, but he willed them to be still. Not yet, he whispered silently over and over. The Flak Track rolled to a jerky stop, and the rear door opened. Four Soviet conscripts stepped silently out wearing the general gear of a Soviet trooper. They wore large black helmets with breathing filters located beneath the visor. Covering their bodies were long tan-colored coats with a black belt, with tan colored pants sticking out beneath and brown boots covering their toughened feet. One of the conscripts moved over closer towards the tank, his breathing filter making a slow steady *chug* *chug* *chug* sound. If he was alarmed or showing any emotion, it was hidden beneath his helmet's visor.
Ryan could stand waiting silently no longer, and his fingers began a slow steady typing. On his display screen, cross-hairs began to moved and silently lock on to the four troopers. Ryan quickly and efficiently, restarted the tank. It roared too life, with a silent buzz igniting the air. The troopers stopped their examinations, and began to stir restlessly. Ryan could hear the faint roar of the other track. He had to do this quickly, or he would most certainly be in a lot of trouble if either unit was able to alert the main part of their forces. His thumb tapped the firing button four times in quick rhythmic frequency. There were four sharp "sizzling" sounds as each tap fired the tank's weapon. Each conscript unaware of his death, stood there gaping as the tank appeared briefly during each fire. The conscripts went up in flames like Chinese candles. They ran around, their arms flailing in the air until they ran out of steam or the fire suffocated them to death.
Ryan quickly immobilized the track, exploding it in a fireball that sent smoke pouring upwards into the atmosphere. The remaining flack track, having seen the explosion quickly turned around. The treads unable to bear the strain of the degree of the turn, caved. The Flak Track toppled sideways, it's anti-aircraft gun swinging lazily in the air. The conscripts climbed groggily out the back door, only to be vaporized by Ryan's quick shooting. One conscript did manage to fire off a shot, but it bounced harmlessly off the side. "That's 2 for Ryan, and zip for the Soviet scum." Ryan whispered, smiling in the faint illumination of the dark compartment.
Meanwhile, back in Washington, D.C.
"I demand the co-operation of all Allied Command units. If we are to win this war, we must have every available Allied unit where it can be properly employed and aide in the clean-up of Europe." Tie Hao muttered repositioning the glasses resting on the brook of his nose. His sweaty palms were clenched into fists, and his breathing was slightly faster than regular. His suit had been disrupted by his violent movements.
"But what are we supposed to do, if one of those units is required back Home!" General Raleigh Lyon yelled in outrage, his calm French composure in disarray. "Answer me!"
Settle down Gentleman, this situation will be handled. Don't forget that we're in what remains of the Pentagon. What used to the main center of United States Military operations before the Soviets so rudely intruded." Major General Carville replied, stepping into the secured room. It had been checked for 'forgotten Soviet surveillance equipment'. He was the most calmly composed leader within that air-conditioned space. He smiled, the toothpick moving up to give him an almost sadistic smile.
"Stand By Gentleman, we have the President on Line 2." Lt. Eva Lee replied from the view-screen placed strategically so that everyone had to shift themselves to be able to see the person clearly. She was her stunning, quiet, and beautiful self. Not affected by the ramblings of the two foreign Allied leaders.
"Good Afternoon, Gentlemen." The President of the United States stated appearing where seconds before Lt. Eva Lee had been. He was wearing the usual outfit of the President consisting of a black suit, with a white undershirt and a black tie to complete his ensemble. His face was marked with creases from the strains of worry over the fate of his country at the hands of the Soviet's. "It's good to see you all again, I'm glad to see that the Pentagon is once more in capable hands. Now let's get down to business. The Soviets have been using Mexico as a landing point for their forces. They were able to easily overcome the defenses of Texas, and with that passage clear they can continue to send forces into the United States. I know that the Eastern defenses are stressed to the breaking point in containing the few cities that still remain under Allied control. I want that passage shut gentlemen, I don't care about the costs." The President stated, his face becoming flushed as if his body was slowly heating.
"Understood, sir." Carville replied, stopping to converse with the marine stationed at the door. The marine nodded, and headed out of the room quickly moving off to another section of the massive building. "Gentlemen, I must be leaving. Soviets to get rid of you, you know?" He smiled, and opened the door. He turned down the hallway and was soon gone from sight following the marine's path.
"Now Gentlemen, I believe we have something to discuss?" The President stated clearly, the two Foreign Allied Commanders nodded reaching into their briefcases to pull out some papers. "Let's begin."
"Your requests for additional reinforcements from our own strained forces, is beginning to become cumbersome. Our units are attempting to hold of the Russians, and the Britain's are fighting a bloody air battle over control of London; hence, why the Prime Minister of England was unable to attend this conference. Our forces are willing to help you, if you would remove these Soviet Nuclear Missile sites." The French commander pointed calmly to clearly outlined points on a detailed map of France. The President, looking at his own detailed map, confirmed. The French Commander lowered himself into a more comfortable position in the chair, his nervousness gone.
"Our troubles are a bit more difficult to comprehend. We have our own struggles with our northern enemies. But nothing of this magnitude, don't worry it's not the Soviets. Our enemies in the north appear to be allies, and are supplying the greedy monster that is Russia with weapons and ammunition. If we could eliminate these factories, I believe we could greatly lower the amount of supplies Russia can send to it's troops." Tia stated looking over his glasses, and pointing to points on a map. He shuffled the papers, and began to list the factory locations. (Kangso, Sariwon, and Hyesan) The President, made sure his aide had those locations written down before his face became stern.
"Do not forget gentlemen, that though the beast may slumber. He is just as deadly with his claws, as when he is awake. If that's all, I shall begin preparations for your aid, and then hopefully yours for us." With that the President disappeared, and the Allied Commanders were left to wonder things over on their own.