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sparta12
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 Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 10:14 pm Post subject: Pushed to the Brink |
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I still need to edit some of the grammar and punctuation in it. This story will be posted in Parts because of the length of each chapter. So here's the Prologue followed by the first few pages of Chapter I.
Pushed to the brink
Chapter I: Recon
It was the fourth of April in New York but due to rapid climate change from global warming it was a cold, snowy morning in New York with a bit of fog to start off the day. Six men huddled around a small fire they had set up in a room (with a gauze mat underneath so the whole building wouldn't go up in flames) that only had one window open so the fire wouldn't go out. It was six o' clock and they had been there since ten the previous night. It was routine for these soldiers. Move to a new part of the desolated remains of New York, possibly get into a fire-fight, report it and maybe move around a bit more before they call it a day. Finding a building that was almost still in one piece was like finding a chest of pure gold and it was something to treasure.
'Alex I don't know how many times I have to tell you this but the icebergs came from Antarctica and they broke off due to global warming and climate change caused by global warming. They didn't come before or after one of the two events you dumb Mick.' Lance Corporal Geoffrey Trempt told Private Alex Davidson. Geoffrey was a male, Caucasian about twenty-five years of age, had brown hair and was around five foot ten. Alex is a male Caucasian, nineteen years of age and has Irish heritage which is a common trait of being a Boston Southie. He had fair hair and was five foot nine. . He was born and bred in New York and joined the Army at the age of nineteen.
'Fuck you, ya friggin Quaker,' Alex responded and, Geoffrey just chuckled and grinned at this remark. They had been comrades long enough to be friends and long enough to let these insults slide. Listening to this conversation but not caring was Corporal Ian Erikson, he' a black male who was twenty five years old from Utah. He had been in the army for four years. At this point Sergeant Thomas Reilly entered the dark room, rolling his feet as he walked by to help soften his footsteps against the black and wooden floorboards. Thomas was thirty years of age, about six foot one, with black hair but with a few distinguished grey hairs on the side and had a career span of twelve years in the Army. He was a veteran of Iraq and, despite his twelve years of service and decorations/commendations. He never made it passed Sergeant. It was something that his squad-mates have always wondered about but have never asked him why. The Sergeant walked over to the three soldiers who were sitting or lying in front of the fire.
'Morning, just got orders over the radio. A Humvee is on its way here to pick us up and send us over to Tillary street across the Manhattan Bridge to clear the area so armour can push into the area. Colonel Peterman is sending the Humvee so it will be here in about a half-hour. In the meantime, you guys know what to do,' Thomas informed the three soldiers in front of him while holding his rifle strap.
'Sergeant, why doesn't Colonel Zimmers just send a Humvee over to us? His base could get a hummer here in ten minutes.' Corporal Erikson asked his superior as he slung his webbing over his shoulders
'Because Zimmers is an asshole. Zimmers won't give us anything unless we're in a serious fire fight so his guys can come, rescue us and make us kiss their ass! So get ready. Oh and Ian,'
'Yes sergeant?'
'You're carrying the radio today,' Thomas informed him and threw the Corporal their PRC Seventy-Seven set. The sergeant was right about the good Colonel. Zimmers would only lend his vehicles/men unless his two companies were involved in a major battle or if it were to rescue men who were not under his command out of a sticky situation. He was a glory seeker.
Geoffrey got on his feet and walked over to Private First Class Felix Richards and Private Phillip Richards. Two twin brothers who were white skinned, they were both five foot eleven, with black hair and both aged twenty-two. They both had been in the United States Army for four years and right now they were both lying opposite each other. Geoffrey kicked them lightly in their guts
'Hey, Spooner brothers! Rise and shine,' he said as they woke up. They immediately got out from under their thin blankets without looking at each other and got their gear on. Geoffrey proceeded to give the details while Sergeant Reilly disappeared outside the room.
Sergeant Reilly reappeared on the sidewalk of Canal Street in the middle of the cold spring day in New York. The wind and snow hit him but he didn't even flinch. Anyone looking would think that the winter fatigues he wore was keeping him warm due to how thick the dark green fatigues were but really it was just conditioning. He had been fighting in New York to stand it
'It's warmer today,' he thought aloud as he reached in to the pouch closest to his right on his webbing and pulled out a Swiss Army Knife. He examined it with a grin on his face before he pulled out the corkscrew and tapped the side of the pocket knife before a scroll of worn paper fell out. There paper was also being used as wrapping paper. Thomas opened it to reveal a wedding ring. His wedding ring. The grin on his face turned into a smile as he looked at the ring. It was his. He straightened the scrunched up paper to reveal some handwriting that had somewhat faded. The paper flapped as he held it in-between his thumbs as he read it with love - Elly. That's what it said. The sergeant wrapped up the wedding ring in the paper, shoved it inside the Swiss Army Knife and locked the corkscrew over it before he put it away in his pouch. Geoffrey walked through the doorway of the small apartment building they had been camping in as Thomas closed the pouch
'It's warmer today,' Geoffrey claimed as he walked up beside the NCO and pulled out a cigarette
'I noticed. The summer weather is coming in early. How's our ammunition?'
'Good for now. When we get resupplied we're gonna have to get Phil a new rifle though,' the lance corporal answered while we lighted the cigarette in his mouth and using one of his hands as protection against the wind.
'Why's that?' Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow
'Ah, the dumb-ass damaged the cocking mechanism when he was cleaning it. Don't ask me how,' the rest of the squad assembled outside on the sidewalk just as Geoffrey finished that sentence. They all talked for a few minutes before they heard the faint sound of their ride coming close and as some of them listened closely they judged how good the driver of the vehicle was.
'Sounds like a PFC is driving... No offence Felix,'
'None taken,' Felix answered calmly. He was the older one of the pair by twelve minutes. As the low hum of the Humvee got louder the soldiers slung out their automatic weapons and checked them to make sure they were good to go. The Hummer pulled up right next to them, it was painted white to camouflage with fog and, the snow and it also had chains attached to the tires for better grip. The man on the gunner relaxed at the sight of them, placing one of his arms on top of the Browning machine gun
'You guys need a ride?' the gunner asked them sarcastically with a smirk on his face
'Ain't that the truth.' Alex responded as they all got into the flatbed hummer.
The ride was riddled with bumps as the street was covered with debris and pot holes from previous fire-fights. To get to Tillary Street they had to cross the Manhattan Bridge and this would make them a big target for snipers. Of course the ride across the bridge was eventful as there were some destroyed remains of what were once cars in the middle of the road that the Humvee had to crush. It was also nerve-wrecking for the gunner as with all these piles of debris around a platoon of revolutionaries or Islamic terrorists could appear from beneath the rubble.
'Hey Private, you look pretty new? Seen any action yet?' Corporal Erikson asked the young private who looked somewhat panicked
'Ah, no. This is my first mission into New York actually,' the private answered, almost taking his eyes off the road to answer the question
'How come?' This came from the good sergeant
'Well, I pissed off the brass back at HQ... I uh... I got drunk, pissed on a Brigadier's car and passed out under it. That was eight months ago, I've been washing latrines ever since.' the six man squad broke out in laughter at this, it was the funniest thing they had heard in months so it amounted to one of the most funniest things they had ever heard.
'Guys shut up, we're coming up to the exit!' the gunner informed the soldiers inside. Reilly's squad cocked their weapons one more time as did the three other guys who were in the van as security. Everyone except the driver looked like they were used to the war like Reilly's squad they all believed they could trust each other by the way they all acted. The Humvee pulled off the bridge and onto Tillary Street, they must have driven about one hundred metres down the road before the driver stopped. As soon as he did, Alex opened the rear door of the flatbed Humvee so Phillip, Felix and himself could get out. The others all got out through the side doors. The guys acting as security in the Humvee all knelt down behind the doors and covered Reilly's squad while they headed into a nearby building. Alex and Phillip also covered the rear door while everyone else got inside the building before they slowly bounded to the building with their rifles up.
The soldiers cleared the first floor of the building before Thomas gave the hand signal to gather around him, they formed a semi-circle around their sergeant and knelt down in front of him
'Alright, here's the deal. We got a do a circle around this area to make sure it's secure. This should take up to about a half hour before we regroup with the Humvees. Once that happens we'll radio HQ and report that they can move in the heavy. Now this area will most likely have some activity around so stay sharp!' Sergeant Reilly informed the squad.
'Yes sergeant,' the squad acknowledged
'Form up, outside in single-file. Alex, Felix, you guys are scouts for this one.' the two soldiers nodded, Alex gave his M249 SAW Machine Gun along with its ammo to Geoffrey who gave him his Rifle along with his ammo, then the squad got out and onto the street in the single file formation as instructed. They kept there spacing apart from each other. They were all walking equally ten metres. Of course they kept a distance of twenty metres from the Alex and Felix. Thomas formed up in the middle of the right file with Geoffrey behind him. Thomas gazed over to the Humvee, it was still parked in the middle of the road but now the squad who were guarding the Humvee now had two men clearing the building around them while the others stayed at their positions behind the bullet-proof doors. The squad got going and they took the next corner which looked pretty much like every street they had ever seen since the war began. Windowless, empty buildings with missing windows and all of them were looked to be structurally weak. The snowing had stopped as they got half-way down the road and Geoffrey noticed that the snow was half-way to being completely melted. Geoffrey chuckled spontaneously
'Hey Tom, remember Dillon? Dillon Murphy?' he asked the sergeant in front of him
'Yeah, funny kid. What about him?' Reilly responded
'Remember that time when we were at some kind of courthouse or something in Hoboken and he told us that he could do a handstand all the way down the steps?' Geoffrey was trying to stifle himself from laughing as he spoke
'Yeah! And then the gunfire broke out and he was still going!' Thomas added while trying to stop himself from laughing as well.
Their weapons went up; they heard a muffled yell coming from the corner
‘Did you see anything?’ Alex whispered to Felix who was the lead scout. Felix shook his head as he scanned the street with his 416 and as they got closer to the corner of the street Tom got them up against the wall. They halted as they came to the corner of the last building on the street; Felix peeked around the corner quickly and called Tom over to them.
‘I saw five guys with rifles using a couple of cars as cover and one guy in a third story window, seventh building on the right with a sniper rifle!’ Felix reported and the Sergeant thought for a moment on what their next move was.
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Last edited by sparta12 on Sat Apr 19, 2008 3:04 am; edited 1 time in total
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Player of Fates
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| Posted: Thu Jan 24, 2008 6:14 pm Post subject: |
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I'm liking it. Try to space out some paragraphs though.
I just noticed, according to my calender you've been on IF for three whole years. Happy B Day!!!
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sparta12
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| Posted: Thu Jan 24, 2008 7:55 pm Post subject: |
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Thanks for the feedback and the b'day remark lol.
I probably should have put in a warning for Explicit Language though
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sparta12
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| Posted: Sat Feb 02, 2008 2:23 am Post subject: |
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Chapter I, Part II
Sergeant Reilly leaned out from the sanctity of the wall as he pulled the pin from the white phosphorous grenade he held in his hand and threw it before anyone had enough time to get the American Soldier in their sights. He heard the grenade thud against the ground as it rolled towards them, he could also hear some of the enemy insurgents yelling out in English
‘Get Down!’ before the phosphorous grenade exploded, releasing a quick explosion of fire that reached up to 5,000 degrees before the heat generated a smoke screen for the section to move under. Geoffrey and Felix bounded forward first as they lay down a base of fire through the smoke screen while the rest of the section moved up against the wall of the fifth building on the right. Thomas put his hand up, before pulling a fragmentation grenade from his vest, pulling the pin and throwing it through the smoke. After this he heard a very distinct
‘Fuck!’ followed by a loud explosion, immediately Thomas signalled to Felix and Geoffrey to double-time it over to him
‘Covering Fire!’ he shouted out as the rest of his squad let loose a volley of 5.56mm bullets through the smoke while two of his men ran over to his position Thomas unhooked another grenade
‘Throw’ em!’ he shouted out to his squad who all mimicked his movements and within a matter of perfectly synchronised seconds all of them had thrown a fragmentation grenade through the smoke. They had all been through this before and they were all on the same brain-wave as their Sergeant. As soon as they let those grenades fly they retreated into the building behind them and waited for the deafening roar of five grenades going off all at once. Their ears were ringing for a few moments but over the high-pitched noise they could hear the unmistakable sound of a man screaming in pain.
‘Ian, Phillip! Go clear out the second building up! The rest of you, follow me!’ Thomas yelled out to them before sprinting out the door with his rifle up. His squad-mates immediately followed him through the large smoke cloud the grenade had emitted while Ian and Phillip headed to the building the sniper was last seen in. For Sergeant Thomas to run out to confront the enemy forces before the sniper could get out was a poor choice but the adrenaline that was pumping through his veins was something he was struggling to fight back.
God damn it, what is he doing? Geoffrey thought as he followed his squad-leader through the smoke. He could hear the sergeant’s rifle go off a few metres in front of him and Geoffrey dived to the ground as he exited the smoke. He held down the trigger on his machine gun, he riddled one of the terrorists in the chest three times and once in the head. He saw the bullet tear a chunk off of the left side of the man’s head and he could see that the bullet had taken a bit of his eye with it too. Geoffrey shifted his machine gun to the next target but the good Sergeant had already given the terrorist a burst of bullets to his head. Felix turned to the second story window just a head of them and fired off a few rounds at the sniper who cowered behind cover
‘Get behind the cars!’ Felix yelled to his squad-mates. Geoffrey leaned over the hood of the burnt out car in front of him and fired a few rounds blindly towards the ground before checking to see that he had just finished off a revolutionary that had been messed up by their fragmentation grenades. Geoffrey paused for a moment, as if he were stuck in suspended animation. The man he had just killed was missing a leg, his wound was pissing out a light-red blood from an artery that had been exposed in the blast, the shrapnel had also hammered all of the militant's body and the man next to him was just as bad. Only he had already been dead. All he had done was just mutilate a corpse. Finally someone released the Corporal from this trance-like start by pulling on their back and bringing them behind cover. As his rescuer had done this Geoffrey could see sparks ignite as two bullets from his enemy's semi-automatic sniper rifle narrowly missed him. One piece of shrapnel had caught him in his right cheek, creating a three inch-long line across his face before it finally stopped a few millimetres from his jaw. He hadn't paid any attention to the wound though and, he hadn't even known he had been hit as he was back in the heat of the moment. He re-evaluated his situation within an instance. He was crouched behind a destroyed car with a 5.56mm Green-Tipped M249 machine gun, two other of his comrades who were all facing a panicked-sniper with bad aiming but with a higher-calibre round. Either way he wasn't too keen on getting shot. The Lance Corporal lifted his machine-gun above his head, into the open and faced it in the general direction of the sniper before he pulled the trigger. The recoil was causing the machine gun to shake-about madly, the bullets were landing no where near the target but it was keeping him suppressed and Geoffrey kept this up using controlled bursts.
Phillip was leading when he and Ian ran out the door. All he could see was smoke in front of him but he ran his gloved-fingers up against the brick wall to his right to try and find the door. While he was sprinting, with one hand brushing against the wall, the other holding the 416 at his hip he swore he could hear his Sergeant yelling something over the rifle-fire but he couldn't make it out. Finally he came to a thin wooden-door that he kicked down before entering with his rifle up and he quickly scanned the room before heading up the stairs. Ian kept close with Phillip as they rushed up the dark-soot covered stair-case that turned both, left or right at the first platform. They followed the sound of the sniper-rifle fire which they could make out easier as it echoed through-out the decrepit building. The duo twisted left and right through the dark halls that were dimly-lit until they came to the room where they saw the back of the sniper who was firing wildly out the window-frame. He was only a mere four metres away and he had no idea that the two soldiers were in the room. Phillip raised his rifle and pulled the trigger but it jammed. The sniper heard it and turned around to see Phillip fumbling with the cocking mechanism on his rifle as he cursed at it before, Ian kicked him in the ass which made the young private fall on his face and Ian fired off a single-round as the sniper started to realise what was happening. The bullet from Ian's rifle hit the insurgent in the centre of the chest as it drove its way through the aorta and out the back via the spinal column. Ian heard the crack of the man's spine as it ripped it apart. The sniper's body went limp, he dropped his weapon and leaned back a bit as the corpse started to fall to the ground but the dead man's body met with the window-frame and so he fell out of the second floor of the building. Phillip saw this as he lay sprawled on the floor but wasn't sure on what to say as he was still somewhat embarrassed by what happened.
'Clear!' the Corporal shouted as he walked over to his squad-mate and extended his hand while he leaned down to help out his comrade
'Clear!' was the response from his squad leader.
'I thought I was done for,' Phillip whispered as he grabbed his rifle with his left hand and his Corporal's helping hand with his right. Erikson gave Phillip a slight grin as he helped him up and gave him a pat on the back
'Don't worry about it Phil,' he assured the fresh-faced soldier as they made their way back to the lobby of the building they had so carelessly raided. When the two had met up with the other three members of the squad a transmission was coming through over the seventy-seven set Ian was carrying. It was like something out of a movie
'Echo Six, this is Echo Three requesting sit-rep over,'
'Echo Three, this is Echo Six roger, encountered light-resistance from volt fighters I count five dead, no wounded. No friendly casualties over,' Ian responded
'Echo Six, this is Echo Three, you are to fall-back to Grid One-Four-Niner-Seven-Zero-Four and await further orders. I say again you are to fall-back to Grid One-Four-Niner-Seven-Zero-Four and await further orders. Read back over,' At this point the squad had realised that the person talking was the same PFC that had driven them there.
'Echo Three, this is Echo Six roger, we are to fall-back to Grid One-Four-Niner-Seven-Zero-Four and await further orders over,'
'Echo Six, this is Echo Three roger. Out.'
The squad got everything in order before moving out. Geoffrey returned the machine-gun to Felix under Thomas' orders and everyone placed some fresh-magazines in their weapons except for Felix as that would have been unnecessary. When the squad reached Tillary Street -which was their destination for the grid coordinates they had received over the radio- they found that a couple of more Humvees had shown up and one of them had a Mk-19 attached. They also saw a couple of five-ton trucks that were unloading two platoons of soldiers. Thomas looked back at the bridge they had crossed earlier that morning to see another Humvee driving down the road, the relaxed gunner standing in the middle of it looked down at them all the while acting somewhat ignorant of the Bradley Armoured Fighting Vehicle, with another 5-ton truck carrying more soldiers, another with Ammunition and, weapons and another with some food and, water. With of course another Humvee at the rear.
'Looks like we're setting up a Fire-Base,' Alex thought aloud and everyone nodded their heads in agreement with this observation. Thomas swung his rifle over his shoulder and started walking over to one of the trucks where he saw someone he recognised in line to jump off the truck. This man looked almost exactly the same age as the good sergeant but was clean-shaven, he had fair hair with blood-shot brown eyes but had bags around his eyes which made him look as though he hadn't had a decent night of sleep within months if not years and was the exact same height as the sergeant.
'Lieutenant Reller!' Thomas shouted out to him with a grin on his face as he approached the large vehicle. Suddenly the man went from slumped to upright when he heard this familiar voice. He twisted his neck to look down at Thomas Reilly and as soon as he did. Some colour came back to his face
'Thomas! Holy shit, I haven't seen you since the library!' he claimed eagerly as he rushed down to see his friend. In this situation a soldier would have recognised that the good Sergeant hadn't saluted the officer when he first saw him but most of them had been fighting for so long -including the replacements who reinforced the companies- that they just didn't care if one soldier hadn't gone through the proper formalities one usually had to do when greeting an officer. The Lieutenant jogged over to his long-time friend and shook his hand
'Mark, where have you been all this time?' Thomas asked, still somewhat excited to see his old friend. Mark leaned in close to his friend
'How about I tell you over a drink later?' the officer proposed as he pulled a hip-flask from his pocket. Thomas simply smiled.
Reilly's squad that looked on as he talked with his old pal saw their semi-happy faces brought the men's memories rushing back to them for a few moments. Geoffrey managed a slight grin as he looked at the ground while thinking about one of his past memories. Everyone except Ian was caught up in nostalgia. Instead Ian just looked around and wondered what his squad-mates were thinking. Alex sunk both of his hands into his pocket after clenching them and feeling the cold air. Suddenly the left one started to fumble around something and he pulled out half-empty packet of cigarettes. The warning label on the packet had been scratched out with a K-Bar.
'Huh... I forgot about these. Any-a-you guys want a cigarette?' he asked in his Southie accent.
'Why didn't you tell us you had these man!' Felix asked as he grabbed a cigarette from the pack
'Didn't you hear what I just said?' Alex snapped back as he slapped the twin over the part his head that wasn't protected by his helmet. Out of all the people in the squad, Felix was the only one who wore a helmet. Everyone but Ian now had a cigarette
'Ian, do you want a cigarette?' Alex offered as his left-hand dug into his pocket to pull out a Zippo-styled cigarette lighter. The Corporal turned to him with annoyed expression on his face
'Alex, I've told you several times already. I don't smoke!' Ian answered, somewhat annoyed by this question that he somehow knew would bear repeating
'Okay, okay, calm down! Won't happen again,' Alex defended himself before putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. Ian stood there watching him release a large cloud of nicotine from his frozen lips before he scoffed
'Why do you guys smoke anyway? We're in the middle of war, I mean. What's the point?' Geoffrey took a step into Ian's view, his cigarette in one hand and the lighter in the other. Both his arms were stretched out. His face had suddenly turned red and the crevices in his forehead became visible as he frowned
'Erikson, what the hell do you want from us okay? Do you see where we are? Do you remember what shit we go through each day? Freezing weather, bullets flying at us or explosives going off near us and for what? Jack shit! So at the end of the day –or whenever the opportunity arrises- I'd like to take a few moments to relax and be completely oblivious to this bullshit!' As soon as the weary-eyed soldier had finished Thomas had come back, right on queue
'Hey! What the hell is going on over here?' he asked in a stereo-typical NCO-like way. Of course the two debaters acted accordingly. Both of them remaining silent for a few moments
‘Nothing Sarge,’ Geoffrey murmured as he dropped the cigarette and stomped on it in frustration.
The ninety-odd soldiers that had arrived at Tillary Street came to do exactly what Alex had guessed earlier. They had spent the following five hours setting up a perimeter before building a wall of sand-bags, digging Fox Holes, setting up tents for what little administrative personnel there were, along with weapon emplacements, defensive positions for the Humvees and Bradley Tanks. Not to mention setting up frequent patrol routes that was being done on foot. These took a couple of more hours. By the time everything had been completely said up. It was already 2000 hours. The squad was tired along with everyone else after their physical labour. Thomas was in a tent sharing a flask of Jim Beam Bourbon Whiskey
'So, you going to answer my question?' Thomas asked after taking a swig from the flask. Mark gave him a confused look as he tried to remember what the question was
'You know "Where you've been" an' all?' Mark nodded as the question came back to him and he thought about his answer for a moment. By this point both men were somewhat tipsy. It turned out that the Lieutenant had a few bottles of Jim Beam he had smuggled in with the supply of food and water. Apparently after the incident at the library that Mark had mentioned a few hours ago. He was set for some R&R back in the "Safe Zone" in the central area of the country. On the last leg of his journey the APC he was in -which was also a part of the convoy of three other APCs and three Humvees- was ambushed by some thirty well-armed and, well trained Revolutionaries. They had known the convoy was on its way a day beforehand so they had planted mines on the road they were travelling on and then used Javelin Rockets on the remaining vehicles along with some Machine Guns. Mark survived the explosion in the APC he was in and lead the seven remaining soldiers in a fight to the death against their heavily-armed foes. The result was him standing in the middle of a destroyed convoy, alone with three bullets in him and all of the men that were with him. Dead. Apparently he was given a Silver Star for his actions but tried to reject the offer as he thought it would have been an insult to all the other guys he fought with. In the end however he was force to accept it. From there he spent the next couple of months in rehab before going UA and heading back towards the front to meet up with his platoon. He didn't feel right taking the R&R had been given after the whole incident.
'Can't help but think what if I had done better and those seven guys... Would still be here,' Mark said under his breath as he took the hip-flask from the sergeant who agreed with him. He knew exactly what he meant. It was something every leader had to face. Wether they be an officer in charge of a platoon or a company or -in Thomas' case- a Sergeant in control of five men. It was something they had no control of and that was something they knew but it was just the “What If thoughts” that they couldn't control. Then again, no one can really control the What If dilemmas. It's something everyone has to deal with. Even just everyday civilians. Of course usually they are not as a traumatising problem then one that they average seasoned soldier would have to deal with. Of course this thing was not something the troubled soldiers would deal with during the entire day as it worked as an on-off switch. The thoughts only flooded in when they had nothing to do and weren’t focussed on trying to spot their enemy before they could get a shot in.
Thomas hung his head for a moment as a similar thought came to mind. It was Dillian. Ever since Geoffrey had mentioned him earlier that day he couldn’t get the young man out of his mind. He seemed to remember him more vividly then other people he had known and who had died. Maybe it was because he was the most recent soldier he knew that had died or maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t even old enough to buy a beer or purchase a pack of cigarettes. Maybe it was just the fact that he was still an innocent kid that Thomas had taken a liking to.
Alex and Geoffrey were sharing a foxhole. Both of them drinking crystals mixed with water coffee straight from their ration packs. Alex had condensed milk mixed in with his coffee. Geoffrey was hitting an emotional down point. This was due to the fact that he had been fighting for seven-odd years, met a lot of people who had died since he left Basic Training in the later part of 2012. Of course this was somewhat part of a routine for seasoned soldiers fighting the war. Wether it be every night, once a week or once a month. Every soldier would stop and enter a stage of nostalgia.
'Wish Dillian was still alive,' the twenty-five year old muttered as he shook his cups canteen a little.
'Last thing we need... A fucking Aspy,' he continued to mutter on. Alex looked at a random patch of dirt in the fox hole as he listened to his superior
'He's not a bad guy Geoff. Just because he struggles with emotion and all that a bit. Doesn't mean that he isn't a good guy. Hell, he saved Phillip earlier from what he told me,' Alex defended his comrade. He did have a point. Ian didn't have a severe case of Asperger Syndrome but if it were decades earlier Ian would have been told to find another job if he tried to enlist but with a war on the home front and rising casualties the military decided that in order to keep a satisfactory amount of Personnel. The military found itself lowering its standards.
'I know, I know. He's a good soldier. I trust his skills but I don't want to be next to him in a fire-fight... I just don't like him,' he retorted
'Nah man... It's not that you just don't like him. You just hate him because he's replacin' Dillian.' just when he said that name a gunshot rang out that was followed by a blood-curdling scream. The two men threw their cups canteens out of their fox-holes and grabbed the rifles they had left at their feet before jumping onto their feet to see what was going on. During this time much more gunfire had erupted and had drowned out the screams of pain. The Ma Deuce gunners stationed on the left, middle and right side of the northern wall and were already firing at enemy targets. The two soldiers were only a few metres away from the sand-bag perimeter and were not even phased by what was in front of them. Their guns were up and they were unloading on anything that moved. As they begun to spray at the building on the north corner of the intersection their Fire-Base had been set up in.
Felix, Phillip and Ian all arrived at the northern wall of the base a few moments after Alex and Geoffrey did. Only they paused for a moment to see what was in front of them.
_________________
May have accidentally come up with a new Sci-Fi Storygame.
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sparta12
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| Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2008 9:16 pm Post subject: |
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Pushed To The Brink
Chapter II, Part II: Cry Havoc
Muzzle flashes lit up the night sky like a knife tearing through a black curtain. The entire northern perimeter of the Fire-Base was facing heavy fire from Insurgents as they attacked the American forces from the worn out buildings that now surrounded New York. Down the road to the north were the torn up remains of a patrol that had been heading back to base when the attack begun. Their bullet-ridden bodies visible under the light of rifle and machine gun fire. A maniacal yell was heard before an RPG fired from the building on the left side of the road facing the base and charged towards the American Position.
'Get Down!' Geoffrey yelled as he pushed Alex to the ground behind the small wall of sand-bags. Felix hadn't heard the Lance Corporal and hadn't noticed the RPG until it landed ten metres away. The explosion sent the young man over the sand-bag wall and rolling onto his stomach
'Felix!' Phillip shouted out to his twin brother as he got up with piles of dirt sliding off of his clothes and grabbed his brother by the shoulder before rolling him onto his back
'You okay! Are you alright?' he yelled over the gun-fire. By this time the rest of the squad who were relatively unscathed got back and started firing back like crazy. Felix open and closed his eyes a couple of times as he tried to overcome his disorientation while coughing like a plague bearer
'Fuckin' hell!' he managed to say over his coughing fit while his brother who was laughing with a grin on his face pulled his brother up and dragged him back over the small wall of sand-bags. Felix got behind the wall of sand-bags, still somewhat coughing as he pulled out the magazine on his 416 to see how many bullets he had left and ended up throwing the magazine on the ground.
Geoffrey looked around him, by this time a majority of the company was at the north-side firing back but the Bradley's and the Browning M2 Machine Guns weren't pounding yet. The Lance Corporal looked at his surroundings while he reloaded his rifle, kneeling so that he was still somewhat behind cover. It was clear to him now that they were outnumbered and the Insurgents were starting to flank the East and West Walls of the Fire-Base by crossing the intersection. Some of the soldiers were managing to take them down but some were still getting through
'What the fuck are they doing?'
Thomas was sprinting to the north-side of the fire-base. With each step he took the more the thunder of gun fire got louder and the more bullets started to land around him. He was about fifty metres away from the north-wall and already he could see the magnitude of their situation. He was analysing the situation in his head and he went into an automatic mode. He was all up in his mind but his body knew what to do and was taking him to the place he needed to go. He thought through what he needed to do. He needed to get to the .50 Cal positions and, get people firing them and, people reloading them and then he needed to get the Bradley's firing. Suddenly he left his mind and came back to his grim-reality as he heard the sound of an RPG being fired and he looked around to see where it was through the flickering lights of muzzle-flashes. His breathing was becoming more rapid now as he began to panic, he couldn't see it but he could hear it coming but he still tried to find it with his eyes and finally he reacted. He placed his right foot in front, turned side on and slid across the rocky ground. As he did he could hear a deafening roar and a wave of heat go across his shoulders and through his helmet. The Rocket-Propelled-Grenade had just flown over his head, a little bit to the left in his line of sight and exploded a few metres away. He rolled onto his back a few moments before and felt his back get pelted a couple of times by fragments of the RPG. He could also feel a few stinging sensations in his legs. The blast had knocked the wind out of him, he was struggling to breath in air and ended up vomiting on the ground in front of him. He slowly moved his arms and pushed himself away from the pile of rejected combat rations that lay before him. His body started shaking as he moved his right hand down the back-side of his thigh and stopped at the calf when he felt a few holes in his right leg. His fingers ran across a sharp, warm piece of fragment that cut his index-finger when he found it. Slowly he closed his hand over the large fragment
'One... Two... Three!' he whispered as he suddenly yanked on the two-inch fragment and pulled it out of his calf. He cried out in pain, swearing at the top of his lungs but refusing to call for a medic. Quickly he stifled his screams of pain and moved his hand up his back. He could feel the fragments in his vest. That was a good sign that they hadn't gone through and into his body. Slowly he lifted his body a few inches off the ground by placing his forearms on the rocky ground in front of him
"Come on, you fucking baby. Get up... Get the fuck up!" the tired 30 year-old warrior whispered to himself in an attempt to motivate himself while trying to overcome shock. Slowly he pushed himself off the ground while stifling several screams and cries of pain. He grabbed his rifle as he got up and started moving towards a Browning Position.
Once he got to the northern wall he grabbed the first soldier by the shoulder, spun him around
'Get on that fucking Fifty!' he yelled to his face as he held him by his collar and threw him towards the machine gun. He limped up to the next man, still standing as he listened to the cracks and snaps of the bullets flying by his body.
'Get on your feet and help that gunner Private!' he ordered the next man before firing a couple of rounds at the lit up building on the left side of the road and then moving on to the next man who was sitting behind the wall, not firing a shot. Tom looked at his rank. It was a Corporal
'Corporal!' he yelled before smacking his helmet with an open palm
'Ye-yes sir?' he answered, unable to see his rank and in a shit-scared tone.
'Move on down this side and get the Ma Deuces firing! Got it Corp?' he instructed him, again holding the man by his collar, face-to-face but this time he was taking a knee
'Ye-ye-yes... Sergeant!' the Corporal's tone changed after hearing the sergeant's word. The corporal then took off like an Olympic athlete of the previous era going for the World Record. Thomas started limping his way down the wall of sand-bags searching for his squad.
Under the dim light he was standing under Reller was laughing with joy as he heard the pounding sounds of the M2’s firing as he stood in his Ops tent. The very sound of those deadly weapons were the sound of the soldiers kicking ass and taking names. However the radio transmissions coming were starting to say otherwise. The lieutenant estimated that he had already lost almost a platoon’s worth of men in the first few minutes of the attack.
‘Sir, we have a request to use Artillery Support on the north side of Navy street sir!’ a PFC reported to the young officer who immediately fired back with an answer
‘Negative, tell them we will try to get Air Support,’ the PFC just turned back to his desk with his radio-set and relayed the message back. He had denied the request for Artillery but had agreed for Air Support strictly because it was more accurate. It was more direct and the pilots could actually see what they were shooting at so there was less-likely chance of Friendly-Fire casualties.
‘Corporal, give me that hand-set!’ he ordered as he walked to the nearest radio-operator with his hand out-stretched; the radio-man handed him the headset and moved out of his way. The weary lieutenant tuned the frequencies for a few moments and ducked as he heard a stray bullet rip through the top of the tent and narrowly missed a radio-operator. He turned back to face the radio-set he had been fiddling with and held the hand-set to his ear
‘Battalion Alpha-Zero this is Golf-Three over,'
'Golf-Three this is Battalion Alpha Zero request verification. I say Golf-Hotel over,' a faint voice replied over the radio. The lieutenant's left hand fumbled around the desk, flipping over communication logs and various forms until he found the Code sheet and held it close to his tired-eyes
'Battalion Alpha-Zero this is Call-sign Gopher, I say Juliet-Five over,'
‘Golf-Three this is Battalion Alpha Zero correct over,' At that moment something rocked the ground near the Communications tent which made everyone shake for a few moments before getting back to what they were doing
‘Battalion Alpha-Zero this Golf-Three, requesting a fire-mission for one Apache on Grid Two-Four-Three-Three-Five-Six over!’ The lieutenant instructed calmly and clearly over the radio.
The Super-Cobra attack helicopter left from a nearby makeshift military airbase two minutes later 2139 hours. Its silhouette blocked the stars as it sped across New York’s clear sky. You couldn't see it unless you were up close with a light or in the day but on the side of the Super-Cobra there were some painted markings on the sides of the cockpit. On the left side the paint read: Lethal Force and the other side read: Extreme Prejudice.
‘Looks like we’ve hit Peak Hour traffic,’ the Gunner 2nd Lieutenant Elliot Daimler of the attack helicopter observed as he looked out of his cockpit to see that the city had started lighting up with gunfire and explosions. Captain Timothy Gallagher, the pilot of the Helicopter cocked his head as he looked outside of the chopper's canopy to see that a majority of New York was lit up by gunfire. Muzzle flashes illuminated the shadows of the former city that was basically based on pure economic power. As each wave of muzzle flashes went off the two pilots could see soldiers and terrorists scrambling wether they were attempting to charge the enemy before blowing themselves up with several pounds of semtex or getting behind cover as bullets flew at them. The Captain only observed this for a moment before turning his head to the front of the helicopter as he continued along his flight path. It was something that he had seen too many times before to actually draw his attention for a moderate period of time
'Looks like we're making an advance on them,' the Gunner stated as he looked into the distance and onwards to the island of Manhattan
'Hmm...'
'What?' the Gunner queried as he turned his head as far as he could to face his superior
'Cry Havoc and Let Slip the Dogs of War.' Tim quoted as he checked the computer systems
‘Sir, out of curiosity how are we supposed to distinguish friend from foe down there?’ Tim gave the gunner a confused look before he remembered that Elliot was fresh out of Flight School. Tim immediately remembered the poor facilities there as well and could relate to his gunner’s position.
‘Well one of the main purposes of the standard Augmentation process is to help identify friendlies when it comes to Air Support or Recon. The implants emit like-a beacon kind of thing that blinks in time with your pulse. It’s only visible through Thermal Imaging though so be careful though because some of those things take damage and screw up so it will be common to see a few people without strobes among friendlies… Okay heads up, we’re two klicks out,’ the pilot informed his gunner who started running a quick weapons check. Elliot switched on the Thermal Imaging camera and could see the battle up ahead. They were heading towards the target on a Southern Approach and could just see the make-shift platoon harbour that had been set up in the Y-Intersection. He could see the soldiers set up all over the perimeter and, he could see the Browning Machine Guns and cannons on the Bradley Fighting Vehicles pounding into the enemy forces. However they were still outnumbered and being outgunned. It seemed that more and more Insurgents were heading towards the area.
'Alright, I'm gonna take us in low and get us a good shot.'
Lieutenant Reller let his Observation Post handle the coordinates for the chopper pilot and he left his second-in-command in charge of Communications as well as strategic planning while he went out to see if he could get some of the heavy weapons firing. By the time he had made it to the North Wall he could hear the thudding sounds of the Super Cobra's rotors only a few hundred metres away. Most of the Brownings and Bradley's were firing at the enemy forces but a couple were still inanimate so he elected to run the gauntlet of gunfire and explosive ordinance over to the nearest one to instruct the crew inside to shoot. The nearest one just happened to be a Bradley that was firing off one round every ten seconds or and this one was only a mere ten metres away. He slung his rifle on his back as he ran over to it and climbed onto the hatch. He banged his fist on the hatch a couple of times when a crewman opened it
'Move!' he barked at him and dropped down into the cramped Bradley to see a group of surprised and weary crewman.
'What the fuck are you guys doing? Pour it on 'em you Stupid Fucks!' he motivated them, specifically the gunner who had the Lieutenant yelling in his ear
'Yes, sir!' he responded promptly and started firing off cannon rounds in bursts.
'That's what I want to see! Don't hold anything back!' he continued to yell as he climbed back out of the tank and closed the hatch. He looked up to see the Insurgents were now getting pinned down and their efforts to try to flank their position was now starting to fail. The lieutenant unslung his rifle and gripped it firmly in his hands.
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May have accidentally come up with a new Sci-Fi Storygame.
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sparta12
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Joined: 24 Jan 2005
Topics: 28
Posts: 1201
Location: Victoria, Australia
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| Posted: Mon Mar 31, 2008 12:38 am Post subject: |
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So does anyone have any remarks on the story thus far?
By the way, Im going to be updating this tomorrow and I will be deleting the Time Line as I feel it is subject to Political Criticisms.
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sparta12
Honored Citizen
Joined: 24 Jan 2005
Topics: 28
Posts: 1201
Location: Victoria, Australia
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| Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2008 3:07 am Post subject: |
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Pushed To The Brink
Chapter II, Part III:
'Open Fire!' Timothy instructed as he pushed down on the trigger on his flight-stick. He could see in his peripheral vision as he raised his head from the targeting camera the ignition of a Hellfire missile being launched. He watched as the tube soared into the building that was full to the brim of Insurgents. He heard a muffled roar of the missile exploding as it collided with the building and blinked a couple of times due to the bright light of fire that ensued for a moment. Without hesitation Elliot started firing off rounds from the Cannon that was attached to the helicopter and started mowing down Insurgents outside the building. The gun was literally tearing the enemy apart and they were immediately starting to retreat because of it. Timothy switched over to the Sparrow missiles as he thought the Hellfire had gotten the majority of the insurgents within the building and there were mainly a few clusters left. He pulled the throttle up a bit and pulled the flight-stick a bit to the left so he could bring the chopper to about the middle point of the building but on the left hand-corner. He looked down at the Targeting Screen once more to see an Insurgent with an RPG within his crosshairs.
The soldiers on the ground were cheering for the helicopter that was tearing the building down at the seams and halting the enemy advance on their position. However they were still in the middle of a firefight and still taking fire from the enemy forces that hadn't been scared half-to-death of the helicopter. However their morale and will had never been higher during the battle.Thomas was still making his way to try and find his squad but his leg was giving him some serious trouble. One of the wounds was bleeding more profusely and making it harder for him to walk but he kept going while yelling for Geoff. Finally he tripped up on a rock and his collarbone was met with a sharp chunk of what used to be road. He screamed out in pain and someone came over to help him out but he batted the person's hands away. He got onto his knees to find Ian
'Over here Sergeant!' the Corporal yelled out to him, yanking him by one of his Chest Webbing straps and over to the sand-bag wall where the rest of his squad was.
'Tom! Jesus, where the hell were you?' Geoff said with relief as he crouched down next to his squad leader, holding his rifle with one hand on the pistol grip.
'I'll tell you later -fuckin' hell!-, why haven't you put on your NVGs yet?' Tom responded while cursing his wound before immediately started fighting with his webbing to get Night Vision Goggles while yelling out over his shoulders for everyone else to do the same if they hadn't done it yet. After a few moments of struggling with his webbing Geoffrey put on the goggles and looked up to see the tracer rounds from the Cobra's Cannon pounding into the building while firing a few rockets. Tom moved amongst his squad, tapping on their shoulders and directing fire instead of letting them fire widly. When he was finished designating targets he took up his rifle while on one knee when a strong gust of wind hit him. He fell on his ass, yelled in pain and saw the Cobra falling back and he could see a stream of smoke right next to it. Was it hit? was his immediate thought and the wounded grunt rolled onto his guts and lifted his head up to see the chopper rotating around but it was only a few metres away from the ground and it was moving away from the north-wall. It managed to pull off the 180 but it was still losing altitude when the nose lowered towards the ground, it was losing speed and now it was managing to gain some altitude but the wind generated by the rotors had taken down some of the tents. Luckily it hadn't gotten close enough to the Comms tent. He gave a sigh of relief. An insurgent had fired an RPG at them but they had just managed to avoid it while also narrowly escaping a crash. Ian grabbed the back of Tom's kevlar and pulled him up
'Are you okay Sergeant?' He asked him as he pulled him and moved him up against the sandbag wall and Tom shoved him away before feeling around his thigh. Most of it was wet now but the blood didn't seem to be gushing out so he thought it would be okay so he grabbed his 416, used the sand-bags for support and fired away at the enemy forces who were starting to retreat but he was too focused to notice that the building directly north was falling down after the last volley of rockets slammed into it. Instead Tom aimed the cross-hair of the ACOG scope directly at the back of a running silhouette and squeezed the trigger. He held the trigger back until the recoil was done and saw a puff of what must have been blood, smoke or perhaps a mixture of both appear as the round went through the enemy's body. The man tripped and landed on his side but with enough force to crack open his skull. At this point the rumbling of the collapsing building finally caught the Sergeant's attention and he watched as it caved in on the enemy forces inside. A massive cloud of dust followed in its wake that spread out in all directions but stopped after roughly 15 metres. Everyone stopped firing after a few moments and looked at the wall of dust that was approaching them. The squad huddled around Ian and listened to the radio on his back. The pilot confirmed that the Insurgents were falling back and that they were scattered through-out the city as they retreated before they were told to return to base. However, the next set of radio transmissions caught their attention
"Alpha-Zero this Lima-Seven over,"
"Lima-Seven this is Alpha Zero over," came the voice of 2nd Lieutenant Brubaker
"Alpha-Zero, this is Lima-Seven. Call-Sign Reller is KIA over," Nobody moved a muscle when they heard that transmission. Tom closed his eyes for a moment let loose a deep breath before dropping his rifle on the ground and sitting down with his back up against the wall. Slowly, he reached into his webbing and pulled out his Swiss-Army Knife. His fingers played with it, rolling it around and caressing it before opening it up to take a look at the ring. Geoff sat down next to him but he didn't bother to tap him on the shoulder or say something reassuring. They had all been there too many times that it just wasn't needed anymore.
The squad had managed to get a few hours of rest as one of the other platoons had been designated sentry duty. However Thomas' squad was up for a patrol at 0600 that morning. That morning was unusual for most of them all as before the squad could have a chance to move out the Sun came out of the over-cast for eighteen full minutes and it was something that had everyone in the city stop to watch. It was the first time any of them had seen the clear blue sky in months. It wasn't very warm but a nice cool couple of minutes. Of course to these men it would have felt like sitting around a nice fireplace but once the sun was gone everyone went back to work without saying a word about it, although anyone who had been watching their expressions could tell that they were all motivated by seeing such a sight. Tom had bandaged his leg before they set out on the patrol but he was still limping along at the centre of the extended line formation but he wasn't complaining about any pain. Mainly because he had been given a shot of morphine by the company medic and sent on his way but also because he had gotten used to it as it had kept him up the previous night.
Their patrol route lead them into the collapsed building that had given their enemies cover last night. A few of the top floors were still intact from the firefight but they were only metres away from the ground and they sat on top of the wreckage on a forty degree angle. It seemed likely that it would collapse in on them at any moment when they passed through it but they got lucky. They found a hole the lead into the next building and Phillip radioed that the building was clear and that it was extremely fragile. The Private had been designated the radio for the duration of the morning. Felix was up front as scout as they continued through the buildings when they came across a looted supermarket. The whole place had been covered in dust and ashes like everything else in the city which turned almost all the coloured objects in the store into grey.
'I wonder if there's anythin' in here?' Alex questioned, as he pointed his rifle down the aisle while he held it in front of his chest. Everyone stopped and stared at their squad leader who scanned the faces of his fellow soldiers before shrugging
'May as well.' he responded and everyone immediately headed down separate shelves while checking the rows of shelves which were mostly empty. It was important for the men to do this as any distraction from their current situation was like grabbing a golden ticket to paradise. Of course for Ian it was just an order from a superior but one that he might actually get some joy from like everyone else.
'Hey Geoff!' Alex called out to him, peering at the Lance Corporal through the metal grid that separated the shelves
'Yeah?'
'I found a Milkway Bar. Still in the wrapper n' all!' he claimed enthusiastically as he rubbed the dust, dirt and ash off of the wrapper
'Nice, find!' Geoffrey replied as he knocked a row of empty plastic bottles off of a shelf
'What's the expiry date on that thing?' Felix asked, peering at the Southie through the grid
'Expires... September 2017... Fuck it, I'm still takin' this!' everyone cracked up laughing at his response after Alex wiped the back of the wrapper with his thumb to see. Felix reached the end of his row in the supermarket which had been categorised as "Snack Foods" and he turned right to see a bag of chips on the ground that looked like it hadn't been open.
'Hey! I think I found a bag of chips. Let me check if it's been open.'
'I bet that's probably turned to ash by now Felix,' Phillip placed his bet from the row Felix had just left
'Yeah, probably!' The PFC laughed at his brother's joke and he grabbed the bag when he heard a click.
Phillip had been deafened by the noise and winded by the concussion blast for a few moments as splinters of wood from the shelves hit his body. He had a ringing in his ears and his hearing was coming back to him. He hadn't noticed but he had been calling out for his brother and continued to do so when he turned the corner to see his twin brother on the ground in a pool of blood. A trail of blood followed his brother's body for a metre and there was a small crater about two metres away from his corpse. He rushed over to his brother, he slid on his shins to the side of his brother to see that most of him had been ripped up by ball bearings and the lower half of his face had been all bit blown off. He could see the inside of his mouth as his jaw had been blown off and, what remained of his tongue was limp but the rest of his body was stiff. His torn up arms were just in front of his chest as if to stop himself from landing flat on his face on the floor and his lifeless eyes looked up at his brother. His eyebrows remained in a position that let you know that he was happy the moment before he died. Phillip cupped his shaking hands around his mouth as his eyes started to well up.
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