The Days After (Game Topic)

Cloakey

Following an M60, Cloake and infantry from other elements ran down the road, about a mile away from Richards and completely unaware that he was killed in action. The M60 would stop occasionally to put a few 105mm rounds into buildings, but would continue otherwise. At the last street they crossed where the M60 turned right, Cloake rounded the corner with the tank, but ahead was a 155mm howitzer placed on the road to lock it down completely. When Cloake saw the artillery, he responded.

"FUCKING RUN THE OTHER WAY!" Cloake jumped behind the cover of a building, and the howitzer fired, the 155mm shell flying downrange and hitting the tank directly in its frontal armor, disabling the tank and taking it out of commission.

The other squad with Cloake's had ran across the street by that time. The UGW had set up a fallback point, fortified to deal with armor and infantry alike. .50 caliber machine guns were also set up in the roadblock to deter infantry. Going down the street was tantamount to suicide.

"Hey!" called Cloake across the street, "Squad leader!"

"What's going on?" called the man across the street. His soldiers pinned behind walls and the like,

"We'll hit these guys by both sides. You go through the alleys on that side, we'll go down this one!"

"Sounds like a plan," said the NCO nervously,

Sergeant Cloake ducked into the alleyway, his squad following suit. Lots of cover littered the alley, but that worked to their advantage, since hostiles also went down the alley to cover the roadblock's flank. A firefight ensued for the next couple of minutes, where neither side inflicted casualties. It was just continued shooting for a while. Overhead, the air battle raged for the skies. At one point, an AV8 flew only about fifty feet above the apartment buildings and crashed a block away. Shaking the entire battlefield as even it's ordinance detonated once it crashed, six 500lb bombs detonated simultaneously and leveled a few houses. The Battle of Bakken only an hour in was already complete hell for both factions.

The blast rocked everyone in the firefight to the ground, shook buildings, and stopped the fighting if only for a moment. Although once everyone got their composure again, it was back to shooting.

"Sergeant, we're going to need reinforcements to break through this!" said Boone, blind firing over a dumpster. As he said that, two Phantom IIs flew directly over at very low level, bombs flipping through the air unguided. They hit two blocks northeast, engulfing entire city blocks in a gasoline inferno.

"Is that good enough?" asked Cloake, pointing upwards and pinned behind a wall, but Cloake saw the reasoning. He was thinking of pulling them back out a few minutes into the fight. In war, anything that didn't swing to one side almost immediately was something to avoid, and that included back alley firefights. But they needed to back up the other troopers that were fighting on the other side. The standing order was to hold until help arrived.

********

Jagdgeschwader, Manguydude, Apocalypse

Overhead, two hostile jets flew not even two hundred feet off of the ground at almost mach speed. Visible from about five hundred feet on their way, Grant ordered everyone down for the moment, to which, you didn't even have to say anything to get someone to obey that. Ahead of them about three blocks, another city block engulfed in flames.

"This is fucking nuts!" yelled Gunnar, sitting behind the sandbags next to a man on a .50 caliber machine gun.

Tyson and Gunnar sat behind the protection for a 155mm howitzer, a few of which had been placed at strategic areas on the grid to lock down against armor. M2 machine gun emplacements guarded against infantry, and there was usually two of them on each. Rovanel manned one machine gun on the left, while Durant manned the next on the right. Every minute or so, the howitzer would fire a round far downrange almost out of sight and the engagement was more or less between things they couldn't even see.

"I don't even understand this!" said Tyson, "I can't even see what we're shooting at-" a round pierced his coat, not hitting him, but just barely missing the shoulder. It was a good thing the fatigues he was wearing were slightly too large for him he figured, "What the hell is this shit?!"

"A firefight," replied Rovanel, firing the M2 machine gun in large bursts, "Just keep firing!"

"Well, at least it's snowing," snow started to fall about thirty minutes before hand. It helped with the adrenaline rush constantly making everyone sweat in their heavy coats. It also helped that all winter in Bakken, the highest it ever got was about 15 degrees, "Gunnar, do you see this?" Tyson put his finger through the hole in his coat,

"Show off later Corsican!" said Desmond, M60 dug into his shoulder, the 155mm howitzer fired its shell again, but its bark was again too loud for every soldier sitting at the sandbags. It crippled every soldier with pain once it fired, their ears ringing so loud they couldn't hear anything for at least a minute. Grant yelled at the artillery crew to call before yelling "Fire," as loud as they could to give the soldiers warning. Going deaf wasn't in the plans for today. Seeing as every time it was fired, Desmond, Rovanel, Corsican, Hirvasoja, Durant and any other soldier on the sandbags literally fell to the ground temporarily deaf for a moment.

Rovanel, Desmond and Durant got back up on their machine guns and continued to fire downrange. At one point, going back and forth, the snow was the least of your worries to slip and fall on. The sheer amount of shells on the ground forced to watch your step or fall over.

"Desmond," said Grant,

"What?!" yelled Desmond, ceasing fire for a moment,

"Desmond!"

"What is it?"

"Get a couple of troopers over to Hunter's position, they need assistance in taking a holdout,"

"What?" asked Desmond again,

"Send a few troopers to Hunter!"

"Volk, Norton!" yelled Desmond,

Volk and Norton headed over to Grant. Hunter had run into opposition but was preparing to capture a NET holdout with about forty other soldiers and an M48 tank. NET had captured the rail yard in Bakken. Which was a target that they couldn't afford to lose. Without a rail line, Bakken's main form of supply from the south was out for the count. It relied on Hunter's people to save it.

"If all we're doing is firing at each other blindly, when does it stop?" asked Hirvasoja,

"When one side gives up!" replied Durant,

"What if we run out first?"

"Then we gave up!" she replied, continuing on the .50

"Cover your ears!" yelled the artillery commander, all soldiers on the fortifications plugged their ears as best they could, and it helped a bit, but it was still deafening.

In just an hour, half of Bakken had been captured by the NET, as per plan by the UGW actually. Tactical retreats gave the NET the impression they were doing better than they actually were because once they hit the fall back points, they stopped dead in their tracks. In the North half of the city, howitzers were set up on almost every other street along with fortifications to protect them. On the streets they weren't, there were still fortifications against infantry, but for the most part the city's layout caused the UGW to be able to lockdown the streets and not allow armor through. This was countered by the NET air force doing limited bombing runs throughout the city, but these were, as stated, limited by the air battle waging at the moment. Most fighters couldn't focus on ground attack, they were too busy with hostile aircraft.

It wasn't a flawless plan though. Allowing the NET to gain a foothold gave them room to reinforce their positions in the city. Once positions were reinforced, they could advance further, but currently, most positions were on orders to hold and not advance.

The exception was the rail yard which was captured by the NET and not anticipated by the UGW. Because of this, Western forces were moving to recapture this key installation, which if not held prevented many supplies from arriving into the city.

The attack had started at 800. By 1000, the definition of the fight was holding still and waiting.


********

Mboddz

After a short while of walking the airfield looking at all of the helicopters, contemplating his roles in his duties to his country, the night came and it went. One of the things the Lieutenant always looked forward to was watching Venus rise from the night sky to herald the sun an hour later. What did it mean? Nothing, really. Helicopters sat on the pavement ready to go tonight, painted black to blend against the night sky. Tonight was a new moon, perfect for covert ops, but the snow made it more challenging. Snow was the worst enemy you could have in a covert operation, but there were ways to work around it, and Michael saw to be successful in any case.

In the morning, the first thing to get finished was briefing on the coming operation around 0900. It wouldn't be the first time the NET utilized their NI4 against an organized country, but it would be the first time to do it in war against them. The higher ups intended to utilize their rotary wing aircraft as best as they could in the fight. They believed they were on to something in helicopter warfare. They were more versatile then airplanes, yet airplanes still ruled the skies, but in their own niche, they provided better support to ground forces in every way except extreme firepower by way of tons of bombs. It was worth investing into. Maybe within the next five years or so, the NET would've designed their very first attack helicopter design. It would be a momentous occasion. The government finally becoming innovative and not imitative.

Reznor and George waited in the briefing room along with nine other operatives that were participating. A simple task at hand, finish what the air force couldn't. Colonel Descateaux stood at the front, a 20 year NI4 veteran.

"Good morning, everyone," said Descateaux

"Good morning,"

Descateaux pulled out several maps of the enemy line defenses and AAA emplacements northward, "At 0800 hours this morning, two air forces task groups failed to destroy key air defenses along the front line, completely shutting out any hope of air power while said defenses are up. Stanley and Minot's task groups failed to accomplish their targets, while Sundown's did, albeit with heavy casualties. Our goal is to complete what the air force was unable to do, destroy the defenses and pave the way for NET air power."

An operative raised his hand, "Sir,"

"Yes?"

"From what we've been told, there's a huge air battle happening right now above Bakken and the surrounding area. Not all of those defenses are down, in fact, none around Bakken are. What's going on there?"

"UGW air defenses refuse to fire when their aircraft are in such close proximity to NET aircraft, otherwise they would've been destroyed ages ago and they still run the risk of being shot down if they survive engagement with the enemy. This air defense net is a serious damper on any military goals in the area and so we're being sent to deal with it."

"Oorah!" called the operatives, it was a prideful moment to be the heroes of the day.

"Our S-70s will insert us behind enemy lines, hopefully flying low enough to avoid radar detection and consequential fire from the defenses. The Vulcans can be rendered almost inert at this time unless they utilize night vision or some other form of enhanced vision but as far as we know, since it's manually targetted, at night it will be inert. The Hawk and Chapparel systems are still problems not to be underestimated. Pending successful landing, all three teams will break up here, here, and here," Descateaux pointed to different landing zones on the map, "Once they do, they'll plant their charges on the various strategic targets that are the SAM sites themselves, the Vulcan air defenses, and their radomes that they feed off of."

Boddz raised his hand, "How will we extract?"

"Not by helicopter," answered Descateaux, "You'll have to hoof it all back to friendly territory, which will only be a few miles away."

It didn't sound too difficult on paper, and if they all stayed to their training, it would go OK. Boddz wasn't the head of the mission, another operative was, but radio silence was key unless it was absolutely necessary something be relayed. All three teams would be working independent of each other, and even then, the teams were splitting up to hit as many targets as possible in the shortest amount of time. It would be almost a lone wolf mission, which every operative had had a few of those. All in all, it wasn't something to worry about. When things succeeded, their air force would have new freedom to move more efficiently.

********

"time to prove our worth I suppose...hope Boisey gets a kick outta this."

Golan slunk down below the sandbags as his .50 clicked dry. "I need another box!" He took a quick drink from his canteen, as another soldier slid a box into place. The snow sizzled on the barrel of the M2 as it cooled, just beginning to glow red from the constant fire.

KGBoom, Destroyer, Snowwolf, Ztron & Westhybrid

Street to street fighting brought Hunter and his team as well as Darius and Garrett to house to house fighting which defined Bakken more than anything at the moment. The units that weren't ordered to hold were advancing only that way. Gaining a street was a huge accomplishment, granted, for having civilians on it who were untrained, only motivated by the fight in them, wasn't too much of a problem so far.

When Hunter reached an officer in command farther back a few streets, he asked where he was needed most. The answer? NET had captured the railyard about two miles away, and a sizable force was being massed to counter attack. Hunter was part of that group, all that stood between them were the streets of Bakken.

Their efforts had led them into an apartment building, one of many in Bakken. Bakken itself was so to speak, a haven in a battlefield, at least before the entire front exploded. When the UGW settled in this area in 2186, after scouting it in the 2170s, they had their sights on exploiting the oil fields for their own gains. Until they had claimed this area, they did offshore drilling up towards Alaska, to the dismay of the Sovereign, who tolerated it but also didn't exactly appreciate it. Once the area was established, the UGW ceased almost all oil operations in the North Pacific, instead favoring the tax free Bakken oil fields. With business, comes commerce. Soon, Bakken was being built blocks at a time to handle the influx of workers and frontiersmen that were given Government incentive to settle in the area. Locals who were able to make themselves useful could land work with the population, and with work comes pay. Eventually, Bakken was a home to what was only 500 people in 2186, to 50,000 in 2214, and the city to match. Viewing the city after days on the roads was like a breath of fresh air, it lit the horizon at night, it was a jewel of the badlands. Granted, how the people who lived their initially were taken care of isn't really mentioned in common chatter, but it was also how it was expected. The UGW and, any nation these days, were real one trick ponies when it came to running locals out. Ask questions later. Or never. Whatever suited you.

Fighting had put Hunter and others into an apartment. Not the most optimal of positions, but not the worst. From there, they were stuck in combat against NET troopers on the road, which even though, exposed, were giving the Western troopers a hell of a time with muzzle launched grenades and mortars and consistent gunfire.

"We're going to need to move from this position!" said Hunter, firing his M14 leaned against the window,

"They knocked the stairs out below us!" said Darius coming back from the hallway, "One of the grenades they fired blew out the staircase,"

"Got to love that government construction," Hunter fired again a few times, "How far down is it? We can just hop down..."

"May not have a choice," Darius ducked from a few rounds that impacted the back wall,

"Grenade!" Bradshaw, one of Hunter's detail threw a hand grenade as hard as he could out the window, it detonating across the street next to the troopers, but landing next to the basement window. It made an effective grenade hole.

Hunter noticed another rifle grenade about to be fired by one of the troops, which were very explosive, far more than a 40mm grenade, more akin to a mortar. He ducked against the wall, and outside another M14 sounded off. One burst of two, one burst of three, and a few other shots to finish the rest.

"Was that one of you guys?" asked Hunter, and everybody shook their heads 'no', "What just happened?"

"Need assistance?" said an older man, about in his sixties outside with an M14 rifle. Either he was the oldest trooper they'd seen, or...well, he didn't know.

"Did you just do that?" yelled Darius from the third floor,

"Your neighbors are assholes!"

Hunter and his detail, Darius and Garrett maneuvered their way down the collapsed stairwell, hopping down up to ten feet at some points, but everyone managed to get down easily enough, and they went outside to meet up with the man and a friend of his. All of them moved across the street to talk easier and in cover. NET soldiers were everywhere around here. Hunter and the man talked to each other, while Schon, the other trooper in Hunter's detail watched the road with Garrett.

"Alright, first things first, who are you?" asked Hunter,

"I'm Clark, Clark Termous, former UGW trooper," Termous offered his hand for a handshake, Hunter took it,

"Good to meet you, I'm Hunter, Sergeant Hunter,"

"What's going on with you Hunter?"

"We're trying to get down to the rail yard from here. Still about a mile away, you know where it is?"

"Yes,"

"OK, good, anyways, we're heading there to take it back from the NET. Already got a good force sizing up there. You can fight?"

"I was doing this when you were taking your first steps son," said Clark, "I can handle myself, don't worry about me,"

"What about your friend?" Hunter pointed to a man wielding a shotgun, crouched down, and moving around a bit to keep his legs from falling asleep.

"I'm good enou-"

"He's a novice, but we've already maneuvered around some patrols that we didn't want to run into," explained Termous,

"The more guns the better I suppose," sighed Hunter, "Alright everyone, on your feet, keep heading south!"

********

Krieger: *follows hunter and his group looking out for NET squads* he mutters "I can use a gun fine, crazy old man"

Kiwi & Meatshield

They had returned earlier that morning in their Phantom, their own personal war machine, which saw to it that they'd fight again another day. It was a solid aircraft, quite literally, and metaphorically. There wasn't any other aircraft they figured that would do them as much good.

Between sorties, John and Morrison could be found in completely different areas. John preferred the commons of the base with most everyone else, cooling his heels to smooth music and radio entertainment. Morrison could normally be found studying manuals, reading battleplans of future planned sorties, and writing to various people in his life. It was how he relaxed and how he made sense of things. An apt way to spend time he figured.

Inside his room, he was again studying air-to-air combat manuals of the old world, and some NET published ones, but he pertained mostly to the old world recopies more since he figured they knew more about the topic. The NET had their first contact just today with enemy aircraft. What did they REALLY know? A messenger popped his head into the room and addressed him, while Morrison lowered his reading glasses and placed his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Hello?" said Morrison to the man,

"Captain Morrison?" he asked,

"Speaking,"

"Westfall wants to see you,"

"Alright," Morrison folded up his reading glasses, put out his cigarette and took his feet off of the desk. Before leaving, he looked around, grabbed his great coat, and went out the door. The snow was falling fast now, large flakes hitting the ground, at least six inches coated the ground now, which on the airfield, where it was constantly melted by the intakes of jets, was quite a bit.

Morrison entered Westfall's chamber, accompanying him were John, Garrison and Fletcher. Westfall nodded to him as he entered, and Morrison saluted to the Colonel.

"Sorry I'm late, sir," apologized Morrison,

"You're fine, come over here, I've got work for you," Westfall pulled out the map of the area again, and started to explain, "We need you to reconnoiter over the lines west of Bakken. Not enough time to get an actual reconnaissance aircraft in the air in time. In short, I need you four to fly your sortie over supply lines so we can see what is being delivered to the fight. This isn't a combat mission, although you'll still be armed. I want you guys to fly as fast as possible, find as much as possible before the response time of enemy aircraft if possible, and fly back. It's a lot quieter up there now that the main air battle is over, but still, expect resistance. Just try to avoid it. All good?"

"We can do it Colonel," said Garrison, "But our aircraft barely made it home. I could probably get it in the air, but it would probably only fly a few miles before something broke."

"It's a good thing I'm not asking you to fly that aircraft," said Westfall, "You'll use another,"

"We're interchanging aircraft now?" asked Fletcher, in the NET, you flew your aircraft, and that was it. It was like your weapon, or your coat, you didn't share, so this was new, "Since when?"

"Since too many aircraft are out of commission and we still need air power. I've got an aircraft for you two,"

"What about us?" asked John,

"Your Phantom was fixed. It's fine now,"

"Good to know," Morrison straightened his coat, and looked to John,

"Well let's get going people," said Westfall, "Information doesn't get itself,"

All four pilots saluted Colonel Westfall, and he saluted them back. Dismissed, they walked outside to their aircraft. It wasn't nearly as important as before, so everyone took their time, flight checked their planes, and went through procedure. Pre-flight protocol wasn't to be ignored. It was very important, that's why this morning when they were told to ignore it, it was so alien to all of the pilots.

As they flight checked the aircraft, other Phantoms returned from combat, which they'd been doing all day. Quite a few left, a lot of them didn't come back. It was what defined the war now. Chance. The days of air superiority which could be accomplished with a Cessna were over it seemed, now nations would be forced to become innovative faster. Thinking smarter and faster than the next guy was the key to victory from hand to hand fighting in Bakken to the designers back in the NET now.

Garrison and Morrison started their engines, their 2nd sortie in a day. That was another thing that was strange to them. How many sorties in a day would they be flying now? Back in 'peacetime', flying two sorties in a day was a rarity, only something that happened once in a blue moon. What would the schedule be now? How fast their aircraft was repaired was also astonishing. Just this morning it was damaged and not fit for combat, but now it was repaired only nine hours later. When something needed to be repaired on an aircraft, even menial things, it usually took at least a few days.



Morrison waved Garrison ahead first, and he took the lead on the taxi. When arriving to the runway, he parked on the right side and prepared for takeoff, now using this time to close the canopy of the aircraft and fasten his mask. Morrison came up right behind him, parking just on his left on the runway. That being that, the canopy closed, the masks adorned, and a final check of all of the systems was go. Idling on the runway the pair waited for clearance to takeoff, the distant sky was decorated with the views of aircraft returning home. Some in complete flights, some in near complete flights, some alone and damaged.

"Sparrow 1-1 and 1-2, you are cleared for takeoff on the runway, over," said the tower to the two aircraft. They throttled up, sped to around 180mph on the runway, raised from the ground, and raised their landing gear. The pair banked north headed towards Bakken again. Back into the fray.

********

KGBoom, Destroyer, Snowwolf, Ztron & Westhybrid


The squad moved closer and closer to the railyard. So far, being in contested area, they'd seen no hostile troopers, which was fine, the goal of stealth was to be kept if possible. Hunter would run first, then his detail would follow, then the merchants, then the civilians and the sound of gunfire getting closer and closer told them that they were almost there.

The entrance to the railyard was beaten and broken. What once stood proud now stood hardly at all. Bakken's railyard was massive to coordinate the supply from the UGW to fuel the city constantly. Yesterday's arrivals now littered this battlefield, and so did the bodies of the fallen defending this place initially. It was time to bite back.

Before they even arrived, the attack had already begun. Waiting around long enough for reinforcements to come, the restless troops started the attack on their own. The first target was the repair yard, which is where most NET troops were hiding out. A significant frontline had been set up there. M2 machine guns, M240s, and entrenched troops. Although with no vehicles of their own, the M48 could bust through those relatively easily with infantry support.

"Darius, with me," said Hunter, "You two go with Bradshaw," he said to Clark and Krieger, "You go with Schon,"

They dove into the snow with other troopers while the rounds flew, the soldiers using the trains as cover and the inclines that the tracks sat upon as well. The machine guns kept the pressure on and encouraged everyone to be extremely cautious when attempting to move. Too many troopers were there for the entrenched machine guns though, and when they turned their attention to other troopers, other troopers in the formation would fire, but also the NET defenders would fire back. While the M48 figured how to maneuver through the trains, this stalemate continued with constant fire. It would've been a spectacular sight to see with a bird's eye view.

"Is he calling for support or something?" said Darius to Hunter. Darius noticed a trooper with a radio calling one of the airfields for assistance.

"If that comes," Hunter sighted in his weapon, "Keep your head down, they like to drop bombs right on top of us,"

"Seeing how close we are to them, I don't know if that'd be a good thing for them to do right now," Darius referenced that they were only about two hundred feet at the most from the enemy at their strongest point. Very, very close when it came to aircraft. Even if it landed on target, it could kill friendly troops. If it didn't land on target, and came close to them, it'd be curtains.

Darius crawled up to the opening underneath a train car and sighted through it. He had several targets in his sights, and chose the M2 machine gunner out of them all. The gunner was in sandbags that covered most of him, so a shot would be difficult to say the least. None the less, he opened fire in small bursts at the gunner, rounds landing around the crosshair, sometimes inside the hole in the sandbags, but because of the angle of attack, missing, most of the time, just hitting the sandbags. A rumbling behind him caused him to look behind him, and even though it cleared him, he still brought his legs more up onto the incline. The M48 was passing behind him, about to lay down the hurt.

"That's going to make some noise!" said an unknown trooper, and the M48 turned its turret to the right. His co-axial machine gun was going nuts with fire, but it was the sight of the tank itself that caused the NET troopers to panic. One brought a LAW launcher to bear and fired, the rocket flying and hitting its target, but hit armor on the turret. Darius looked back, the AT soldier was now running fast, along with most of the fortification, and the cannon fired. The sandbag barrier exploded, the emplaced machine gun flew from its mount, a few NET troopers were caught off balance and fell off the platform into the snowy ground, and with its covering fire, the UGW troopers moved up with the cover and found new positions. Consequently, the NET troopers couldn't hold this line. They fell back to a new location.

"Let's get behind the tank," said Hunter, raising himself from the ground with Darius following. They started to jog over to the M48 to keep up with it and use it for cover, but a trooper caught a round in the chest and fell to the ground dead instantly. As a result, everyone dropped back to the ground. Now, they were being hunted.

"Shit! Everyone down! Down now!" Hunter dove to the ground, and Darius again mimicked. He waved his free hand signalling everyone to stay down, and then laid down fully, out of sight of almost everything. He checked on the trooper who caught a bullet, but it was too late for him, he was down for the count.

"This guy's dead!" said Darius, and Darius caught a round in the leg, screaming loudly at the pain,

"Fuck, he can still see us!" Hunter quickly scanned where a sniper could be hiding when they were flanked by train cars on both sides. He saw a building over the train car which offered a view, a small one, but a view, and ordered all of the troopers to suppress it. It worked the way he saw it, because the next round hit behind him on the train car, barely missing his head.

"I got Darius!" said Garrett, running over the train track with his weapon slung over his back. Darius was injured, but could still walk. Where he was hit still allowed him to run, albeit very painfully, but none the less could run if he ignored the pain.

"Thanks Garrett," Darius suppressed the pain as best as he could, but it was, hard, to say the least.

"My guys keep up the pressure on that sniper! Everyone else, keep moving up with the tank!" Most of the troopers were making moves through the train cars again to regroup with the M48. That advantage was not something to lose, it needed infantry support.

"AGH!" Darius took another shot, this time in chest. He survived it miraculously, at least for the moment.

"Get him out of sight from the sniper you idiot!" yelled Clark to Garrett, moving over to Darius and dragging him away, putting him against another train car, this time hopefully he was completely obscured from the suspected sniper's position. Another shot flew and hit the train car, not hitting anyone, but still putting fear in the troopers.

"Clark," asked Hunter, "Can you move well?"

"Well enough,"

"You and your friend, get over to the M48, there's a telephone on it..."

"I already know, you want me to tell the tank to target the building?"

"He'll start targeting the others, we're away from them now. This guy needs to die." Hunter's eyes widened on the word 'die' said with emphasis.

"I'll go," Clark turned to Krieger, "Let's go kid,"

"I'm right behind you," responded Krieger,

Clark and Krieger started their gauntlet run, running from cover to cover attempting to avoid the sniper. From what they could tell, he wasn't changing positions, but was also only noticeable because of how the dirt was kicking up, which was towards the direction they were running. That told them that the man was behind them, and the angle told them it was a significant angle, at least five floors up. No muzzle flash was visible, which told them that he was inside the building a distance to hide it and not on the window sill. He was good, but anxious. His constant misses told Clark that the man was too eager to hit them, and because he was nervous, he was missing.

"Behind this wall!" Clark slid into cover, a bullet just barely missing him and Krieger. Krieger was right behind him the entire time. Running while being shot at though was more tiring than you'd think, and already both were almost out of breath. Ahead of them not too far though was the main group. They hadn't much time to actually advance.

"Krieger I'm going to talk to the commander, fire at what you think is important," said Clark

"Easy enough I guess!"

Clark ran up to the tank and got on its phone. On the rear right of the vehicle, just beside the engine, was a telephone that went straight to the commander. Utilizing this, it was possible for infantry to directly speak to the tank crew and tell them what they needed most. A very, very useful tool in the battlefield.

"Commander," said Clark, "On our eight o' clock in the apartment buildings, we've got a sniper who's shooting at us. We've already got wounded from him. Need you to fire shells into the building!"

"Roger, I'm turning to engage," The M48's turret started to turn left towards the apartment buildings that overlooked the railyard. The first shell fired, and followed with co-ax fire, and the second shell fired. While Clark and Krieger returned back to the group, the M48 destroyed the apartment buildings, eventually putting ten shots into the buildings.

They returned to the group, half of which was engaged with enemy skirmishers who were attempting to hit the back ranks of the task group. Darius was still alive, but bleeding. A medic and his fireteam had arrived to reinforce but instead put themselves to assist Hunter's team. Bradshaw, Schon, Hunter and the other troopers were engaged.

"Hey," Clark tapped Darius on the cheek, "Hey! Stay with me! Alright? Stay with me!"

"He's not going to make it..." said Krieger, Darius started to cough blood.

********

Spoiler:

Krieger: *helps hunter, bradshaw, and schon take down some of the skirmishers*

Hunter: "Schon, buddy up and check for flanking routes. See if we can't fuck them from the sides. Everyone else, suppressing fire on the enemy positions."

Clark: "Krieger, we need to let the medic do his thing. I'll go with Schon, just give us some cover, alright?" *to Schon* "Son, you see what used to be an apartment building? We're going to skirt the rubble and hit them from the side." *turn to Hunter* "You hear that? We'll need suppressing on my signal."

Darius: Darius wiped the blood off of his chin, and looked down at his chest. ~Bullet must've pierced through the kevlar..~ He thought to himself. When he heard the medic say that he wasn't going to make it, Darius laughed, causing more blood to propel out. "I'm just too pretty to die, Doc. Now, the Reaper is going to be busy with all the NET we laid out, so patch me up before he fucking notices." Darius joked. Truth be told he didn't know how fatal the chest wound was, but he could feel that both bullets passed straight through. "Gauze the wounds, give me an adrenaline shot, and leave my sorry ass here. I still can take potshots." Darius explained.

KGBoom, Westhybrid, Ztron, Destroyer & Snowwolf



The rounds flew, and what was skirmishers turned into a larger force being sent to reinforce the NET presence it seemed. The troopers put their attention towards the hostiles, and they moved positions to better protect their wounded and to have a better chance at survival. They were being hit from an angle that left them wide exposed, so they moved into the smithy of the railyard that was just about twenty feet away.

Hunter fired a few more rounds, all the while only dodging bullets, "Bring him into here," he turned to one of his comrades, "Schon, take a few troopers and get around the fight. See if we can't hit them from the sides,"

Clark dodged a few more rounds as well, and he turned to Krieger, "We need to let the medic do his thing!

"Actually, I need his help, he needs to put pressure on his leg, it's not serious, but more blood loss won't do this guy any good," said the medic,

"You're the expert," Clark continued to fire and reloaded his rifle, he turned his attention to Schon, "Trooper, I say we go around these train cars and skirt around the sides through that block over there," Clark pointed to the now ruined apartment building and its neighbors.

A rifle grenade flew from one of the NET troopers' rifles and hit the room above them, knocking bricks and debris down onto the soldiers. Uninjured, they moved further into the building.

"Scratch that idea," said Schon, "That won't be possible,"

Darius in the background still sat injured. Immobile, but still hanging on. It'd been about ten minutes since he was shot in the chest, but morphine was also probably keeping him around a while if the bullet was going to kill him.

"I'm just too pretty to die," said Darius to the medic, getting a laugh out of it,

"Don't talk, don't do anything you'll upset the injury,"

"The Reaper is going to be too busy with all the NET we're laying out, so fix me up before he notices,"

"Stop talking," said the medic,

"Just...gauze the wounds, give me an adrenaline shot, and leave my sorry ass here. I can still take potshots,"

"Are you deaf now?" said the medic, "STOP TALKING,"

"How's he coming around?" asked Garrett, crouching down next to him,

"I don't think it hit anything vital," said the medic, "As surprising that is with a torso shot, otherwise he would've been dead a long time ago,"

It continued, and more NET troops arrived to reinforce the positions. Hunter's positions gave them the advantage momentarily. Solid walls did much better than open field, but that advantage would only hold so long. NET grenadiers started firing their muzzle grenades which were more akin to mortars at the building, shaking it every single time down to the foundation itself. Troopers from the fireteam fell from the hostiles, Bradshaw took a hit, things were getting bad for them. It was better that they didn't know they were holding back at the highest around fourty soldiers.

********

Mboddz



The rotors spun in the dead of the night from three S70 helicopters and onto the tarmac walked nine black ops armed to own the night and punish the lesser. The air force failed, and now it was time to send in NI4.

There were three teams in play today. Major Gastovski was running this operation, head of alpha team, senior member of NI4, he was the highest ranked operative in this area. Many things had been switched around, turned about, destroyed, uprooted, or sabotaged under his hand. They wouldn't be the last. Bravo team was headed by Captain Foreman, another experienced member of NI4. Nowhere near as impressive a record as Gastovski, but still impressive. Last but not least was Boddz, in charge of charlie team. He was also very experienced, any NI4 operative was, and he was given just as much responsibility on this operation as the others. Under their command were two other black ops, and together, a three man black op squad working in tandem with others could collapse a frontline in a night given the right circumstances.

The teams boarded their helicopters, adorned in all white to help camouflage themselves a little better against the snowy environment. It was well known that snow was the absolute worst when it came to stealth, but they'd make do. The were also bringing something else to the fight, night vision goggles. Night vision goggles were something of a rarity in the UGW, the NET and anywhere really. Anyone who used them obviously needed them, and with them, NI4 troops owned the night. When you own the night, the fight doesn't have to stop. You can go to battle on your terms. Just the thing that the elite needed.

The ride was around 100 miles from North Point to the frontlines and at about five minutes in the teams readied for drop. The weather took a turn for the worse back about twenty miles back when they rolled into a storm. Hopefully it would give NI4 another advantage that they needed, but it wasn't good for flying. No storm is. Gastovski turned on his radio, his sober, humorless and cold voice narrated.

"All teams this is Gastovski. Radio silence is in effect once we're on the ground until we meet at the rendezvous point with no exception. We can not let on that we're here. At 0330, we'll detonate our charges simultaneously once we're out of sight and return to friendly territory from there. That gives us two hours to find targets. At 0330, the charges will go off. So be aware of that. Any questions?"

"Negative," said Foreman,

"Negative, Gastovski, "said Boddz,

"Good hunting everyone,"

The helicopters split formation, all going to a different location. This was another five minutes until the helicopters landed, but so far throughout the entire ride, nobody had said a word. Black Ops were kind of the strong, silent types.

The helicopter touched down and the team dismounted, "Alright guys, hit them hard, they'll remember this night for years to come," said Boddz. The team split up, and Boddz headed directly west to look for targets. After a few minutes of running through snow, he saw the silhouette of a tent down a hill. There appeared to be radio equipment as well. Too good to pass up, he worked his way down there. What sentries were on duty were too cold and too tired to care and focused more on themselves. Boddz got next to the tent's wall, listening into the radio which was quiet, but then suddenly came to life.

"Eagle Eye Actual, this is Eagle Eye Four. Location Delta-Delta-Five, Echo-Niner-Four. We've got unknown signatures on the radar heading west. From their speed, they look like choppers,"

The radio operators were confused, "Choppers?" they turned to the radio, "Eagle Eye Four, are you sure?"

"Size and speed confirms it. They're going about 100 knots headed west. Definitely air, fits the profile of a helicopter."

"We don't use helicopters do we?" asked one operator,

"I've only ever seen a small civilian one," said the other,

"Eagle Eye Four, acknowledged. We'll radio for a team of commandos to go to your area and check it out. How copy?"

"Eagle Eye Four copies all, over,"

"Actual, out," said the operator.

"You don't think the NET uses helicopters do you?" asked the man,

"I've never heard of them using helicopters, but I suppose anything is possible."

Boddz used this opportunity to head out. They were definitely onto them from the landing, so it was a good idea to get as far away as possible. The goal of this was to not become detected, so killing off hostiles was only an option as a last resort. Since they heeded the entirety of their radar network, this wasn't a good target if they wanted to fly under the radar. Not only that, now OFSA patrols would be running about. He guessed they needed another challenge. This was already too easy as is.

If he was close to a network relay, there may be better targets nearby. He kept on his direction of west. The other challenge to this environment was that there was very little area to hide. Not a lot of trees grew here, mostly bushes and the like. He tried staying low to the ground in the bushes and he could maneuver with some freedom while in them, but out of them he was a sitting duck. When he left a group of small shrubs, he saw that a patrol caught a glimpse of him. Seeking quickly, he moved back in. He'd get the jump on these guys.

"I think I saw him go back into here," said one of the troopers,

"You're probably just seeing things in the storm," said the other, "I'm freezing my ass off out here, let's just go,"

"If we let something go because we're cold, being cold will be the least of our worries," said the third trooper, "Let's just have a quick look around, if we find anything, we'll deal with it,"

A stray patrol wouldn't go amiss, especially at this hour when they'd probably just started their patrol. He brought his weapon to bear and aimed. If he was going to engage them, he'd engage them from rear to front. He could probably drop three targets in three seconds if he did it right. Five seconds if something went awry.

He fired two shots into the last man, and he dropped to the ground, another two shots into the second, who are fell and then around six rounds into the lead because he started to run, but when he ran, the only thing he succeeded in was falling on his face. Boddz was in good spirits. So far things were going OK.

"Another bunch of bad guys bites the dust, am I good, or am I good?"

Throughout the night, the rest of the operation was flawless. In two hours, ten different targets of opportunity were found by all three teams, those targets including VAD Systems and SAM sites itself. At the rendezvous point at 0330, they set off their charges, effectively opening a hole in the defenses or at the least, putting a considerable dent in the defenses in what would seem to the UGW in only a moment's time. It was what NI4 succeeded best at.

********

Krieger: *Puts pressure on darius's leg, keeping an eye out for NET troops* " did the bullets pass through? if so we could cauterize the wound if we had anything to cauterize it with."

Global Update

Nathan Weston, All UGW troops and civilians

Nathan Weston, the patriarch of the rling family of the UGW walked down the hallway to his office in the Capital building in downtown Boise. His aids and personal detail escorted him through the crowded hallways so he could make his declaration of war speech on the radio. The news of the war had reached him only yesterday evening, and it was heavy news throughout the entire government. Everyone knew this day was coming, they just didn't know when. Weston prayed for his people, and wish death upon his enemies.

Now in his office, he was ready for his address to the nation. This would be broadcasting all throughout the country and the frontiers, and especially to Bakken itself. His soldiers had to know that their government was behind them.

"Are these working?" asked Weston, pointing to various microphones from different news outlets. When his aid answered 'yes', he cleared his throat and started his speech.

"My fellow Westerners, yesterday, January 15, 2215, our nation was deliberately and undeniably assaulted by aerial and ground forces of the New England Territories. This act is inexcusable and cannot be forgiven, nor can it be forgotten."

In the city, the dawn was just breaking. Tyson turned on the radio and heard the voice. Gunnar and he didn't recognize it, but all of the other soldiers seemed to and instantly were interested.

"Our brave and valiant forces have already deployed to the front to counter and repel the savagely hostile NET army and air force, certain to defend, if to the death, our crucial oil reserves in the area so that civilian life is not disrupted by their hostile disregard for our people."

"Damn, even the Chancellor took notice," said Rovanel,

"Good to see Boise finnaly cares about us," commented Durant,

"I've asked that the council declares in light of this unprovoked and despicable attack by the East that a state of war exist between the proud and socially right people of the United Governments of the West and the New England Territories,"

"They're declaring war..." said Grant, "Not surprising, but its official now,"

"We will not fall without a fight. We will not pause. We will destroy the NET in North Dakota and route them from anywhere they threaten the West!"

The troopers cheered at the inspirational words. Their government was behind them, their people were behind them. They weren't alone in the fight and that was an inspiration to any soldier in any conflict. It made soldiers believe in themselves, and when you made soldiers believe in something, it was the ultimate in a force multiplier.

"Go forth men and women of the West! Go forth and bring our people victory!" said Chancellor Weston,

"Who is that?" asked Tyson,

"The Chancellor of the UGW," replied Desmond, "Nathan Weston,"

"He's the patriarch of the Weston family," said Volk, "His family built this country. If anyone takes this war to heart, it's them."

"We'll see how that plays out," said Grant, "Winning their war from the office desk,"

********

Martin Griffon, Kiwi & Meatshield

In the commons area, the pilots sat around a single radio. Word had come through the night before that the Chief Minister Griffon himself was going to address the nation, the frontiers and the troops on the frontline. They waited anxiously. If anyone authorized the war, it started at him.

"When's he supposed to come on?" asked John,

"0800 I'm pretty sure," said another pilot,

"He's got a minute, hopefully he's on time."

The radio came on with a man announcing the Chief Minister. Martin Griffon's people came first to him, like almost every other nation, their family built them. Politics ran in the Griffon's blood, but so did war. His son, General of the Army David Griffon, was a twenty five year veteran of the frontier wars, and General Griffon's son, was a well decorated Lieutenant serving on the frontlines. Some questioned Chief Minister Griffon's ability to lead given his age, 85, but all doubts were always swayed when they remembered that anyone that lived to be 85 had to be made out of steel itself especially when 65 was the life expectancy high. Griffon spoke.

"People of the New England Territories, soldiers and pilots, teachers, workers and producers. Yesterday, our nation was betrayed in the highest extent. The UGW, a scandalous and dishonest nation voided our trust by using covert agents to steal oil that was rightfully ours by the Treaty of Midway. Oil that powers our cities at night. Oil that powers your family's car. Oil that is the blood of our proud and mighty nation."

The pilots listened closer.

"They armed one hand and offered the other, it is all that is known by these savages. They know nothing of chivalry or respect. All they know is war and how to step on others to get what they need. This will not happen with us. The NET will show them that they cannot run us over like they run over tribals. They cannot run us over like the civilians they torment. They will be shown respect, and that respect will be down the barrel of a gun."

The pilots rallied around the words.

"I have asked that the parliament declare war on these miscreants that we may show them how the NET deals with those that cross her. Their vote came back unanimous, and war will commence with the UGW immediately. The West will be given the full force of the mighty armies of the East. They will fall like all have before us, and they will beg for mercy at our hand."

"The Chief Minister sure doesn't take betrayal lightly," said Morrison,

"I like how he forgot to mention that it started before he made this message, but I guess that shouldn't matter to us," replied John,

"We'll show them all,"

"We will,"