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And Raise Your Head With Pride! Part 4
Posted By: Arthur Wellesly<arthur_wellesly@hotmail.com>
Date: 28 February 2003, 4:18 pm
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?Go go go!? Fogle yelled to the marines in the Pelican. Immediately Harrison and his comrades hopped off the hovering aircraft and onto the courtyard in Iskorosten. The courtyard was a perfect square, three hundred meters long and across. Its purpose was that of a glacis of an ancient castle. It was situated right in front of the bunker?s entrance to deter aerial insertions much like this one. 90,000 square meters of open ground, surrounded by guard towers and turrets; effectively a killing ground. And it was.
?Man down!? Harrison cried as a sniper hit corporal Benson next to him. ?Medic!? A nearby medic ran to Harrison?s position, only to be mowed down by a machine gun. Harrison watched in horror as the man?s chest caved in on itself.
?We have to get to the bunker!? Lieutenant Samson was screaming. ?Get the fuck off this courtyard, men!?
?Mortar!? someone screamed from afar as the whistling of the projectile became heard by all. The mortar round dropped into a group of running men, tossing them like rag-dolls into the air, their severed limbs flying off in all directions.
?Get to the fucking bunker!? Samson continued to scream, until he was hit in the head by a well-aimed shot by a sniper in a guard tower.
Suddenly, four turrets surrounding the courtyard exploded with a violent ferocity. Looking at the smoldering wreckage of the entrenched structures, Harrison knew that no handheld weapon could deliver an explosion of that magnitude. He assumed the LOBs were finally giving them support.
?Heads up!? a man cried next to him. A rocket flew past Harrison, missing him by mere inches. The veteran soldier instinctively dove to the right, narrowly avoiding the powerful explosive?s blast radius.
At last, the hundreds of Pelicans flying above leveled off in mid-air and began firing their 55mm rapid-fire cannons liberally all around the perimeter of the courtyard. Sides of buildings literally caved in as the explosive tipped bullets wreaked havoc around the defenders? positions.
Harrison looked ahead. Already there were several hundred men at the gates of the bunker. With their backs to the wall, they were firing with their own weapons, assisting their retreating comrades. It was still a slaughterhouse in the open grounds. The Marines were being fired at on all sides by hundreds of defenders. One man had his legs blown off by a machine-gunner. Another group of men was blown to pieces by the cascade of explosives. With each man who died, Harrison flinched.
At last, Harrison reached the protective entrance to the bunker. He turned around and immediately started firing with his A-89 assault rifle with scope. He wasn?t firing at much; every time he saw an enemy, another man had already spotted him. Nevertheless, his incessant firing provided a certain amount of cover for his fellow marines, for it at least helped to keep the defenders? heads down.
A man next to Harrison jerked forward as a splash of blood washed the cement wall behind him. A bullet had gone straight through his chest. He tried to say something, but only a mouthful of blood came out. ?Medic!? Harrison called for the man, but a passing medic took a single look at the wounded man and headed past him. The explosive tipped bullet had for the most part shredded his insides. His case was hopeless; nobody was going to waste their time on him.
An explosion bigger than others caught Harrison?s attention. Looking up, he saw that one of the Pelicans was rotating, out of control. A gout of flame erupted from one of its side engines. Apparently a lucky shot had hit the craft?s fuel lifts. ?A-24 has been hit!? someone said through the COM channel. ?24 has been hit, they are crashing.?
?We?re going down hard!? the pilot, Whitney Keene, reported. ?We?re out of control, the engine has been destroyed. We?re going down.? The Pelican was now completely out of control. Other Pelicans had to fly out of the way just to avoid a collision. 24 suddenly crashed into a building at the perimeter of the courtyard hard, making it flip completely in the air. It skidded across the roof of the structure briefly, then fell of the other side, out of sight. Harrison felt for the pilot of the Pelican. If she was still alive, which he hoped she was not, she would go through hell.
?We got T-251 tanks approaching at my position...? the transmission was cut off as an enormous explosion simultaneously shook the ground.
?This is Captain Jefferson, we need air support on some incoming T-251 tanks, approaching at the west road of the courtyard, over.? Harrison overheard this conversation.
?Roger that, Captain, hold tight. Over.?
Suddenly a group of ten Pelican, which were circling overhead, turned immediately to the west road. They leveled off at the gap in between the buildings forming the road and let off a salvo of Hawk missiles. Moments later Harrison saw black smoke rise from the street and the Pelicans turned to continue their circling positions.
?Captain!? Lieutenant Parsons called from the opposite side of the Bunker entrance. ?Sir, I think all of the Marines are here.?
Jefferson surveyed the bloody courtyard. Mangled and charred bodies profusely littered the smoldering ground. Smoking craters pockmarked the well-laid and neat stones of the once central and important area. But there was no movement of any kind in the courtyard, save for a few flies moving in early for a handsome feast. Jefferson saw instantly that Parsons was correct. ?Marines! Set up a perimeter! Collect with your set Fire Teams and await the order of your commanding officer.? The courtyard was now silent. The only noise Jefferson heard was the shuffling and clanking of thousands of Marines assembling and the distant gunfire of the assault on the Nuclear Facility. ?Okay, all demolitions experts to me!?
Whitney Keene stirred from her comatose state and looked around her. Next to her was her dead co-pilot, his jugular cut wide open by a shard of glass projected into his neck from the shattered cockpit window. There was nobody else in the Pelican.
Whitney lifted her head out from a break in the glass and was instantly barraged by numerous shots fired at her from waiting defenders. The bullets ricocheted off the battle plating harmlessly, Whitney having ducked just in time. She reached for her own weapon that was kept near the controls, but it had fallen from its casing in the crash. She instead reached over for her co-pilot?s A-89 assault rifle. She stood up on her chair and left the cover of her Pelican, exposing only her head so she could defend herself.
She aimed at where she had heard the shots fired at her earlier and liberally fired in the general vicinity. Her random spray of bullets amazingly hit both of the men waiting for her, but all the shots fired were bound to draw attention to her grounded Pelican. Whitney knew she had to get out of here. Unfortunately, she noticed with some distress and pain that her right leg was broken and it had a shard of glass embedded deep in her calf muscle. She wasn?t going anywhere unless a med-evac got to her soon.
It wasn?t long before Whitney continued to be harassed. Bullets slammed and bounced off the titanium shell all around her. She lifted her weapon and looked through the scope. Taking careful aim she killed all four of her assailants down the street. More bullets were whistling all around her now, and sparks were flying everywhere as metal hit metal. She fired several more rounds at a group of men down the opposite end of the street, but this time she did not go without injury. A high-powered bullet ripped through her shoulder, and the explosive shards of metal almost severed her arm. She flinched at the pain, but she did not hold back. She pumped the man who had wounded her full of lead and ducked down into the cockpit to reload.
As soon as she was done, she rose again and fired several more shots at the roof of a building adjacent to her. It was then that she noticed that two rockets were blazing towards her. Her eyes widened and she ducked once more into the cockpit. One rocket soared uselessly over her head as she ducked, but another slammed into the hull just beneath her feet. The Pelican groaned and teetered precariously, threatening to flip entirely from its loosely entrenched position.
Once again Whitney rose from her protective hiding place and searched for the man with the rocket launcher. She could not find him, and had to turn her attention to other problems. She continued firing blindly at targets that were impossible for her to hit. Suddenly another bullet slammed into her body, this time, her chest. Luckily the low-caliber bullet came at an obscure angle so her bulletproof Dekket suit and light battle armor saved her life, but shards of metal still got through and embedded themselves painfully into her body. Whitney continued firing.
Another poorly aimed rocket slammed into the ground next to her Pelican, sending a large amount of soil and asphalt into the cockpit. A grenade also landed close to her with a similar effect. She was firing sporadically now; all of her lost blood made her weak and light-headed. She could no longer aim properly. Yet another bullet hit her, this time at her stomach. Unfortunately the battle armor was weakened from the last shot and it shattered on impact. The high velocity of the explosive tipped bullet combined with the shards of metal completely tore up Whitney?s intestines. Massive amounts of blood escaped through he fingers clasped tightly on the wound. Still no Pelican hovered overhead. This would be the end.
Whitney stood up a final time, blissfully unaware of the incredible pain all over her body. She fired great amounts of bullets in all directions, taking two more hits to the arm and chest. At last a grenade flew through the air and landed perfectly into the cockpit. Whitney did not even try and grab it. Instead she sought out its thrower, killed him, and waited for the end.
?Jesus,? O?Keefe exclaimed as he saw the grenade explode in the Pelican?s cockpit.
Stevenson stared blankly at the telescopic picture of smoke and flame rising from the doomed Pelican. He shook his head sadly. Whoever that was in the cockpit had been one of the bravest souls the admiral had ever seen.
?We?ve set up a Perimeter, admiral,? Jefferson reported to the admiral. ?Ready for detonation.?
Stevenson nodded, even though the captain could not see him. ?Roger that, Jefferson. Proceed as planned.?
And the Marines continued what they were doing.
?It?s affirmative,? Jefferson said to Lieutenant Jacobs, the demolitions expert officer, as he closed the COM link between him and the admiral. ?Detonate when ready, son.?
?Fire in the hole!? Jacobs cried.
?Heads down, fire in the hole!? Jefferson reiterated.
A massive explosion shook the ground as three hundred kilos of C-12 explosives detonated on the bunker?s formidable steel gates. The explosion ripped through the doors like they were aluminum foil, blowing one side clean off its hinges and leaving the other hanging dangerously on the other side.
?Fire team Sierra, move in!? Jefferson called out to a group of marines. ?Go! Go!?
One hundred men moved out from behind the swinging gate and crept into the darkness beyond.
The gateway lead to a long tunnel that went deep underground. Its walls were painted black and the road was asphalt, which made the unlit passage even harder to see in. ?Equip your NOD marines!? Jefferson called out, as he took command over the group. Suddenly, from down the tunnel, someone fired at them. ?Find cover!? Jefferson cried.
The Marines slid down their night vision visors, which were part of their helmet. ?Augh, I?m hit!? someone cried.
?There, at the end of the tunnel!? Harrison cried suddenly, opening fire. Where Harrison was pointing there were over two hundred enemy defenders, taking cover behind well-placed crates and indentations in the wall.
?Fire team Alpha and Charley, converge on our position!? Jefferson was yelling through his COM device. ?We?re pinned down!?
Two explosions down at the enemy position alerted Fire Team Sierra. ?Rockets inbound, take cover!?
The RPGs hit the walls with tremendous force, throwing several Marines back and killing Jefferson.
?Jefferson has been hit!? Harrison yelled over the COM network. ?I repeat: Jefferson is KIA.?
?Take them out, Marines!? Lieutenant Parsons called as he entered the tunnel with Fire Teams Alpha and Charley. ?Kill the rocket launchers!?
The tunnel erupted with fire as the Marines coordinated their attack so all of their bullets simultaneously hit the enemy forces. The UNSC force didn?t go without casualties, however. Medics were scrambling around wounded men who were sprawled out on the road, unable to move.
?Fire in the hole!? Lieutenant Jacobs cried suddenly. Nobody had noticed him enter, but with him he carried a 400mm howitzer cannon. The enormous gun suddenly fired its shell towards the men at the opposite end of the tunnel. The shell exploded just before impact, sending a burst of flame and a hail of shrapnel and ball bearings tearing through the remaining defenders. Several Marines fired more shots at their position but the sergeants yelled at them, telling them to save their Goddamned ammo.
?All right, move in, to the next gate,? Lieutenant Parsons called out, now in command by default. The thousand or so Marines ran pell-mell down the tunnel now that all resistance had been eliminated. ?Okay, Jacobs,? he said once they reached the second gate, ?do your thing.?
Jacobs began unpacking a large quantity of C-12 out of his satchel, but he thought better of it. ?Lieutenant!? he called, summoning Parsons. ?I believe this door is magnetically sealed using a MSEIS. If I can hack into the security system of the complex, I believe I can open the door without damaging it.?
?And why the hell would we want to do that?? Lieutenant Parsons inquired impatiently.
?It would prove to be an excellent point of retreat should an emergency arise,? he responded calmly. ?Plus we could save on C-12.?
Parsons pondered over this for a moment, then said, ?I?m giving you three minutes Jacobs, then we?re going in as planned.? As Jacobs set up a small hacking station in the tunnel, Parsons used the opportunity to signal in reinforcements. ?All right, Fire Team?s Bravo through Beta, we?re ready for you.?
?Roger that, Lieutenant,? came several responses from the Fire Teams? commanders. Parsons looked up the tunnel towards the blasted gates and there he saw hundreds of running forms advancing on his position, silhouetted against the sun, which was still high in the sky. Soon about 4000 Marines would be in the bunker.
?How long, Jacobs?? Parsons asked the demolitions lieutenant, who was beating furiously on a keypad on the hacking station.
Jacobs wiped rivulets of sweat from his brow that was pouring down his face. ?One minute, lieutenant.?
?Yea, well hurry up,? he said angrily. He too was beginning to sweat heavily. Abakum was located twenty million kilometers closer to the sun than Earth and Iskorosten was located on the equator. This combined with the horrors of the courtyard, all of the Marines were now drenched in their own sweat.
?Okay, lieutenant, I got it,? Jacobs announced. ?Just give me the word and the door will open.?
Parsons held up a warning hand. ?Steady on, Mr. Jacobs, we need to get into a defensive position.? Parsons opened a COM link between him and all the Marines in the tunnel. ?We?re gonna open the door, but we can?t get caught off guard. Grab some cover under or behind anything you can find. If all the cover has been taken retreat to the back of the tunnel and await our word to advance.?
?Acknowledged, commander,? came the responses of all the sergeants and lieutenants. There was suddenly a flurry of activity as thousands of men ran to holes in the tunnel caused by the howitzer shell or the crates and indentations in the wall made originally for the defensive position of the Iskorosten defenders. Nearly two thousand Marines ended up retreating back up the tunnel.
?Okay, Jacobs, open her up,? Parsons commanded.
?Yes, lieutenant,? Jacobs said, and, with a flinch, he pressed a single button. And the doors opened....
But nothing happened. Beyond the gate was simply another dark tunnel leading further down into the bowels of the earth. Several Marines looked around at each other in confusion but no one let down their guard - this silence was even worse than a maelstrom of bullets. Parsons paused and didn?t do anything, clearly waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, he asked Sergeant Hesketh, the mobile sensor man, to scan the second tunnel.
Hesketh produced a small gadget from his ammunition pouch and attached it to his helmet eyepiece. After gazing down the tunnel for a moment and reading the information being fed directly to his eye, he reported, ?I?m picking up heavy signs of remote signal activity.?
?Remote signal activity?? Parsons asked, alarmed. ?In what capacity??
Hesketh didn?t answer immediately. He continued to observe his eyepiece. ?I can?t say for sure, sir. However I am assuming from both common sense and from these sensor readings that it is either from a large cluster of mines or from remote controlled turrets.?
Parsons nodded. That was what he had been thinking as well. ?Jacobs, come to me,? he ordered. ?Can you detonate remote controlled mines from here??
Jacobs instantly shook his head. ?Sorry sir, but with the equipment I have I couldn?t even detonate the simplest of mines.?
Parsons frowned, but he had another idea. ?Hesketh, scan the tunnel for heat signatures that might resemble either a mine or turret. Maybe we can rule one or the other out.?
?Yes, sir,? Hesketh responded faithfully. After a moment of scanning, he said, ?I can?t find traces of either, sir. However all turrets must emit a certain amount of heat because of the electricity that must be used. Mines on the other hand, if properly configured, can go without emitting any heat at all.?
?Which means by logical deduction it?s mines,? Parsons said thoughtfully.
Hesketh nodded.
Parsons brought down his eyepiece from his helmet and opened a COM channel. ?I want all Marines to bring down their eyepiece. To all who can see a waypoint, I want you to throw a grenade where the WP is.? After tapping some codes into a mobile computer that Hesketh lent him, he said, ?Now!?
Eighty-three Marines threw their grenades into the tunnel, but only eighty-three explosions occurred. ?God damnit,? Parsons exclaimed.
?May I make a suggestion, sir?? someone behind Parsons inquired.
Parsons was momentarily taken aback by the man?s sudden appearance. Looking around he saw a young man with dark brown hair and a muscular build. ?Name, son?? he asked, noting the single stripe on his uniform, indicating he was a Private.
?Garrett Harrison, sir,? he said.
Parsons nodded. ?Go ahead,? he said.
?Well, sir, in training these days they teach you what to do if you suddenly found yourself in a minefield. They went over several different types of mines, and one was a P-class mine that was incredibly resistant to all explosives. It can differentiate between the force of a person walking on the surface and an explosion on the surface. It came then take the force of an explosion on the surface, absorb it, and deflect it back all around it. It was designed specifically for this purpose.?
Parsons scratched the back of his head with irritation. ?So how in hell are we supposed to disarm them??
Harrison was unhesitant in his response. ?These mines can only absorb such force from the surface. When an explosive is close enough to the mine it will detonate. And once the combined concussive blasts go off underground, the rest of the mines should detonate in kind. It?s their one weakness.?
?Excellent idea, son,? Parsons said wearily. ?But may I ask how in God?s name you think we?re supposed to set off a grenade that far under the earth??
?Not a grenade, sir,? Harrison said reproachfully. ?A solid-shot howitzer shell.?
Parsons rubbed the stubble on his chin for a moment, and then he patted Harrison on the shoulder. ?Nice work, Private,? he said. He walked over to Jacobs who was busying himself at a mobile computer. ?Lieutenant!? he called. ?Do we have any solid-shot howitzer shells??
Jacobs did not bother to ask why he wanted to know. Leaping up, he ran over to the howitzer cannon, which was near the middle of the tunnel. ?Give me some help, here,? Jacobs requested to a cluster of Marines hiding in a pothole. Soon the Marines and Jacobs had pushed the heavy artillery weapon near the second tunnel entrance. ?Where do you want it shot, sir?? Jacobs asked Parsons.
The lieutenant retrieved his mobile computer. ?I?ll give you a waypoint, lieutenant,? he said, typing on the keypad.
?Waypoint received,? Jacobs reported.
?Fire!? Parsons yelled.
The massive launching blast of the howitzer cannon deafened all that were near. The solid-shot flew through the air and plunged deep into the ground. Less than a second later the shell exploded under the earth, followed immediately by a second explosion, and suddenly the whole tunnel exploded with such tremendous force that it threw several men back further into the tunnel, even though they were over a hundred meters away from the blast. For a moment Parsons was convinced that the second tunnel would collapse, but the concrete and steel reinforced shaft withstood the explosion.
?Is anybody hurt?? Parsons called out to the Marines near the tunnel entrance.
Absurdly he heard several men laughing, picking their bleeding bodies up from under piles of loosened pieces of cement. ?We?re all okay, sir!? a sergeant called up to him.
?Okay, move in!? Parsons called, and he signaled for the Marines stationed at the other end of the tunnel to come to them and follow them down the tunnel.
The four thousand Marines moved as one body down the long tunnel without any mines going off. They all had their night-vision visors down over their eyes; they were deep underground now, and no light sources were apparent. At last they reached the third gate, and Hesketh came up the door to see if he could find out how it was locked and perhaps what was beyond it.
?What do you have, sergeant,? Parsons asked Hesketh.
?One moment sir,? he said, looking at his mobile computer, then with his eyepiece, and again at the computer. ?This door is magnetically sealed as well, sir. However, the sound waves I?m emitting are coming back saying there is a heavy concentration of a titanium-steel compound. I would deduct that there is a heavy metal grating reinforcing the door.?
?Can you read anything beyond the gate?? Parsons asked.
?Negative sir. The electro-magnetic seal and thick barrier is interfering with sensors.?
?All right, Jacobs, you?re up!? Parsons called to the demolitions expert.
?Randell! McCarthy! Get your men and follow me!? Jacobs called to other officers in the demolitions team. Jacobs came to gate and unpacked a load of C-12 from his satchel, and other men were down the same. They placed the C-12 at strategic positions along the solid gate, mostly around the small crack in the middle where the two doors would normally part, and around the foundation.
?We?re ready, sir,? Jacobs announced.
?Back up, everybody!? Parsons warned.
Once everybody had backed up, Jacobs gripped a remote controlled device and yelled, ?Fire in the hole!? He pressed a button.
The immensely powerful C-12 explosive tore through the steel and titanium reinforced gate and blew it wide open. Parsons looked up from the edge of the pothole he was sitting in and tried to peer through the dust and debris to see was on the other side. He could see nothing, so he tried looking through the scope with night vision. It worked, but just barely. Whatever was beyond was most definitely not another tunnel. It looked like a surveillance room, full of monitors and communication devices and computer stations. He could also make out some moving objects, though whether they were automated devices or people, Parsons could not determine.
Parsons opened a COM link. ?We?ve reached the bunker, men.? Suddenly a hail of bullets came from the entrance to the bunker, ripping up the asphalt of the tunnel in great spouts of debris. ?Open fire!? Parsons called out. ?Aim carefully! Don?t hit Latsek!?
Thousands of reports came in answer of his order. Machinegun rounds ripped through the thin enemy defensive line and the hostile forces fell quickly under the massive onslaught of their numerically superior foes. ?We can?t have this many men in that small a room,? Parsons thought aloud. ?Fire Teams Bravo through Beta, go topside and assist the other Marines in holding the perimeter.?
?Yes, sir,? came many responses over the COM channel as the three thousand Marines of the Fire Teams ran up the tunnel and back into the courtyard. ?Okay, Marines,? he said to the remaining thousand men, ?you all know what Slavonosh looks like. Right now I?m transmitting two more faces to your eyepieces. Their names are Vysheslav Volokov and Gavrilko Baatyr, and neither of them can be killed either. Take them alive with stun rounds. Fire Team Charley, Delta, and Alpha, remain here at the entrance and make sure nobody tries and escape through there. All right, Marines, let?s move out!?
Fire Team Sierra filed into the Bunker, fanning out as soon as they got past the blasted gate. The room was only about 40X50 meters, and almost every square centimeter of it was cluttered with desks and computers and other such furniture and equipment. It was a tight squeeze for the 250 Marines, but they managed. Flipping over desks and knocking computers down, the men were thorough in their search. At last, Harrison and two other Marines flipped over a large desk to find a man cowering under it. ?Sir!? Harrison cried to Parsons. ?We?ve found someone!?
Parsons ran over to the Marines. ?It?s Latsek!? he said with relish.
Suddenly, on the opposite side of the room there was a gunshot and a solider yelling. ?Knock him out!? Parsons commanded to Harrison, and the private dutifully fired a stun round at the pathetic form of the once great leader.
When Parsons arrived at where he heard the gunshot, he entered into a scene of madness. In a small closet at the side of the bunker there was a man who Parsons recognized as Vysheslav Volokov holding a small charge in his hand that would have the potency to kill him if dropped. Next to him on the floor was a very dead Gavrilko Baatyr, a pistol in his hand and a hole in the back of his head. The lieutenant turned his attention back to the more pressing matter.
?Drop it!? Parsons yelled in Russian, using his limited knowledge of the language to encourage the man to not kill himself.
Harrison, who had suddenly appeared next to him, offered, ?I could shoot him with a stun round.?
Parsons shook his head. ?No, it?s too risky. He may drop it.?
Harrison showed Parsons one of his stun rounds. ?No, sir. This uses a high voltage shock that will temporarily paralyze him. Have someone standing by to grab him.?
Parsons considered this precarious maneuver, but he ended up nodding. ?I guess I don?t see any other choice.? He opened up a COM link to one of the Marines standing nearest to Volokov. ?Sergeant Patterson, be ready to grab the Russian, we?re gonna shock him.?
?Affirmative, sir,? Patterson replied.
Meanwhile the situation was escalating. Volokov was screaming wildly in Russian, holding out the device on his hand, readying himself to drop it. Just then Volokov seized up, his arms clamped down automatically to his sides and saliva began dripping from his wide-open mouth. Patterson immediately moved in and snatched the deadly charge from his hand, quickly but delicately. All the while the Sergeant had had his eyes closed, and now that it was safely in his hands, he breathed a sigh of relief.
?All right Marines, let?s move out.? All the Marines except Patterson moved out of the bunker and back into the tunnel. ?Throw it into the closet, Sergeant!? Harrison yelled as he ran out of the room.
Patterson took a deep breath, gripped the charge, and threw it into the closet. As the explosive detonated against the wall, the Sergeant dove back, and walked away unscathed. ?You all right, Patterson?? Parsons asked once he got to the blasted gate.
?Yes, sir,? he responded morosely.
?Admiral, the Marines have secured Latsek and are awaiting extraction,? O?Keefe reported to Stevenson, listening in on a conversation going on down below.
Stevenson nodded but didn?t say anything. Instead he leaned forward from his chair on the Constellation and said into a microphone, ?Pelicans A-23 and A-26, the Marines have secured Latsek and need to be extracted immediately. Touch down on the courtyard and remain there until the prisoner is safely on board.?
There was a slight pause and some distorted fuzz, but finally a faint, ?Roger that, sir,? was audible.
Stevenson?s eyes were still fixed on the view-screen, showing images of the piles of corpses in the courtyard and the smaller piles littered around the fence of the nuclear complex; all men who were now dead, because of him. And all because of one man, whose life or death may not make a difference in the outcome of the battle for Abakum.
But the Admiral?s thoughts were not lingering in such matters now, for suddenly the lights on the bridge went out and the ship suddenly lurched forward as the engines suddenly went dead. The emergency lights slowly flickered back on, revealing a scene of chaos. Men were sprawled about on the floor, caught off guard by the sudden rocking. Computer screens were dead, replaced now by a soft glow to light the darkened room.
?Report!? O?Keefe called as he picked himself up from the metal floor.
The sensors woman, Laura Kean, abandoned her unresponsive station and pulled out a mobile computer out from under her seat. It was battery operated, and would not rely on a malfunction in the main power supply. ?Sir,? she said, ?I?m getting transmissions saying that all of the other ships were affected as well, including the LOFs.? She typed something on her computer, and then looked up at the Admiral again. ?I believe it was a remote controlled orbital EMP mine.?
?And you didn?t detect it?? Stevenson sneered at Kean.
Kean did not shrink from her admiral?s piercing stare. ?EMP mines are almost impossible to detect, sir. I ran scans all around the planet but I did not pick up anything in orbit.?
Stevenson didn?t blame her. EMP orbital mines were ideal for this sort of situation. Because of their constant emission of electromagnetic pulses and nothing else, even modern scans made it difficult to detect them, unlike nuclear or conventional orbital mines. ?So COM systems are down?? Stevenson asked blankly.
?Yes, sir,? Kean replied.
?Sir!? O?Keefe said, nudging him in the shoulder. ?Look, Admiral.?
On the view-screen, the telescopic image of Abakum, which was solar powered, showed an eerie sight. Thousands of enemy fighters were converging of the LOFs still in orbit, which had no sensor capabilities. ?That battle over Abakum,? the Admiral realized out loud. ?It was all an act. They have plenty more fighters? The fighters began closing in on the LOFs. ?Kean, how long until communication systems are operational??
?Five minutes at least, sir,? Kean reported. ?That?s too long,? she whispered as an after thought. The battlegroup was out of range for Halcun weapons or nukes to be of any effect.
Too long. The enemy fighters fired, and the small force of LOFs was obliterated.
Stevenson wiped his face of the sweat even as the temperature on the ship dropped. He never took his eyes off the enemy fighters. He wasn?t sure what they were going to do, but based on their suicidal actions in the battle above the planet, he was sure they were going to come and attack the stationary battlegroup.
He couldn?t have been more wrong.
?They?re heading for Iskorosten!? O?Keefe said with horror as the massive wave of hostile craft turned and headed back for the surface. The enemy was not stupid. They knew the Halcun guns and nuclear shafts were still operational even with main power offline. They were not going to waste their lives or ships.
?Without the LOFs the Pelicans will be without protection!? Kean realized, a mask of terror encasing her face. Cruisers and carriers were not designed to fire on ships that small below low orbit. ?They?ll all be destroyed.?
?And without the Pelicans the ground force will be stranded,? Stevenson finished gravely. ?How long until COM systems are back online?? the panicking Admiral spat, watching the Pelicans circling around the city, oblivious of the danger that was about to befall them.
?Still about four minutes, sir,? Kean said anxiously.
Too long.
Harrison stood next to the first blasted gate, looking out with squinted eyes at the mangled corpses that covered the courtyard in a blanket of blood and gore. In the buildings around the courtyard, in some of the in tact turrets and towers, and even in the rubble of destroyed ones, were thousands of Marines guarding the perimeter against the constant threat of an enemy relief force. So far, however, only small skirmishing groups of snipers and rocket launchers had posed the only threat to the bunker.
Fire Team Sierra lined up in the gate?s alcove and watched two Pelicans descend from the sky and come to a stop about two feet off the ground. Four men carried the unconscious bodies of Volokov and Latsek and lifted them onto the deck of the hovering Pelican. Then fifty of Fire Team Sierra?s men jumped into the Pelican as well, acting as guards for the prisoners. The other Pelican was there to provide cover for the prisoner transport. The rest would remain here and secure their positions until everything could be safely mobilized and organized.
A man hopped out the back of one of the Pelicans, and he walked up to Lieutenant Parsons and shook his hand. ?I?m Major Lewis, I?m going to be taking over here.?
?Thank God, sir,? Parsons said earnestly, all too eager to give up his command.
Harrison breathed a sigh of relief. Everything would be okay now. It would only be a few hours and everyone would be safely aboard the flying fortresses...
Almost exactly as soon as the two Pelicans were safely above the clouds, Harrison noticed something on the horizon. He nudged Parsons. ?What?s that, sir?? he asked, pointing to a distant, vague black mass. ?Looks like a dark thunder cloud to me.? It was only seconds later that the incredibly fast moving ?clouds? were no longer vague, distant shapes, but horrifying clear enemy fighters. ?The Pelicans!? Harrison yelled.
The thousands of fighters began to take a more organized approach to the situation and they split up into equal groups, flying low and directly towards the circling transport craft. They literally filled the skies like a swarm of locusts. The only difference was these locusts had F-217 Sidewinder missiles, and they fired them at the helpless Pelicans. Some quick-thinking pilots tried to pull out and into the upper atmosphere, but every one of them had 12 missiles on their tail; there was no escape. 250 blackened and mangled masses of twisted Pelican hulls fell from the sky and peppered the city, demolishing many of the buildings they landed on.
?Get into the bunker!? Parsons yelled to the Marines, vulnerable in the courtyard to an aerial strike from the thousands of aircraft.
?Negative that command, Marines!? Lewis yelled.
Parsons ran over to the Major and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder, as he was about to walk away. ?May I ask what the hell you are doing, sir?? the lieutenant asked. ?We?ll be slaughtered by those Goddamned fighters!?
Major shrugged Parsons? hand of his shoulder and turned to face him. ?Fighters aren?t designed to strike ground targets, lieutenant,? Lewis pointed out, stressing on his rank. ?Besides, the LOFs got our backs.?
?Where the hell were they there, sir?? Parsons cried out. ?They were probably destroyed by those thousands of fighters.?
?The enemy wouldn?t go against fighters in orbit,? Lewis answered coolly. ?They?d risk being destroyed by the cruisers.?
Sure enough, the swarm of enemy fighters cleared the skies once all the Pelicans were destroyed and flew back in the direction that they came. Lewis said nothing, but he haughtily turned his back on Parsons and pulled down his COM device from his helmet. ?Okay men, this is Major David Lewis. Fire Teams Beta through Zulu, remain in the courtyard and defend against all offensives the enemy will surely bring. I?m taking command here.? Lewis turned around to once again face the fuming Lieutenant Parsons. ?Parsons, I want you to take Fire Teams Charley, Delta, Alpha, and Sierra into the tunnels and act as reserves as well as cover if we need to retreat.?
Parsons took a moment to regain his composure, then said, ?Yes, sir,? purposely exaggerating ?sir?. ?Fire Teams Charley, Delta, Alpha, and Sierra, we?re going back into the tunnels to provide reserves for the good Major.?
Harrison approached Parsons as the once again entered the dark tunnel. ?Is he crazy, sir?? he asked in disbelief. ?They?re just going to get a bomber in here! They?ll all be killed!?
?Don?t over-think think it, Goddamnit,? was all Parsons could say. ?It?s the Goddamn chain of Goddamn command.? Despite these words, Harrison saw a tear form in the lieutenant?s eye and a small drop of blood escape his tightly closed lips as he bit on his tongue so hard. Upon seeing this sight from the usually cold, hard lieutenant, Harrison began to realize the enormity what the Major had just done himself. He had literally sentenced to death over six thousand men, tightly packed together in the courtyard above. This obscene decision combined with the fact that he could do nothing to prevent it made Harrison sick to his stomach.
The Fire Teams made their way halfway down the second tunnel, stopped, and trained their scopes uselessly to the UNSC held courtyard above.
?What the hell is the status on the COM systems?? Stevenson asked Kean.
?Ship-to-ship COM links are online Admiral, but we?re encountering some technical difficulties with long-range communication systems.?
?Well fix it Goddamnit,? Stevenson yelled angrily. Stevenson watched helplessly as about 6,300 Marines formed a compact perimeter in the courtyard. ?What the hell are they doing, O?Keefe?? he asked shakily. ?One bomber would kill them all!?
O?Keefe likewise shook his head in disbelief. ?I don?t know, Admiral.?
?Admiral, look!? Lieutenant Sanders yelled from the helm station.
Stevenson turned his gaze from the courtyard to just beyond the city limits, and the Admiral?s eyes opened wide in horror. What he saw were three unmistakable bombers flying in close formation, and they were heading directly for the courtyard. ?How long, Kean?? Stevenson asked quietly.
?Unknown, sir,? she replied.
Admiral Stevenson shook his head. There was no way they could do it in time. ?God rest their souls,? he said, as a single tear rolled down his wrinkled face.
Harrison continued to look through his scope, not because he feared any danger of a ground force breaking through, but because he tried to observe the skies for any activity as best he could from his position in the tunnel going deep into the earth. So far he saw nothing, but at the angle he was in, this was not surprising. Suddenly, however, Harrison reared his head as a blinding flash appeared in the courtyard, amplified by his scope, and the very air he breathed became a burning inferno in his lungs.
?OFB!? Parsons cried, flinging his satchel off his back and reaching into it. ?Get your breathing masks!?
An OFB, or oxygen fuel bomb, was a commonly used incendiary bomb often dropped on compact infantry formations or in dense jungles. Inside the bomb were four tanks of liquid oxygen. When the device detonated, the oxygen in a split second vaporized into a gas and unleashed massive amounts of it in a very small region, saturating the area with it. Less than a second later a highly flammable substance was unleashed and spread out over the effected area. The result: a massive fireball, incinerating anything in its blast radius. Even as far down as four hundred and fifty meters from where the bomb was dropped, the incredibly hot oxygen was singeing the lungs of the unfortunate Marines.
Parsons took a deep breath from his mask and yelled to Jacobs without inhaling, ?Close this Goddamn door, lieutenant!? Parsons was now deeply grateful that Jacobs had not blown this gate.
Jacobs did not bother to take his mask off. He merely nodded and set up his mobile computer station and, after tapping some commands into it for a moment, the double doors slowly began to join from their resting crevices in the wall. The Marines took one last look at the dissipating flame, and the gap in the gate closed.
And the Marines sealed themselves in an enemy bunker in a hostile city.
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