Scrambling back, I sent out a request for update from the others of Delta as we made to move from this house. Where we were, opposite of the corner of School and High, wasn’t bad… but it was drawing a lotta fire. Between the cannon of the advancing armor and some rifles of troops inside the school (there was a really bad joke there somewhere…), my merry band had a problem. Reed’s Stryker was still operational, at least, as was the other two elements, which was good.
3-1 and 3-3 had managed to hammer the original targets and actually dump their dismounts into the building; McCade figured it was the safest place for them… and that if there was intel, it was there. Smart kid… Burke also had his dismounts join them, giving us at least 18 men inside the place. Not going to be a fun time but at least they were busy- the two Strykers were now playing Dodge the Cannon with the BMD’s. 3-4 was still engaging from the tree line, though they were picking targets as best they could. My dragoons didn’t carry anything heavier than a -203. We get out of this, I was changing that….
Gunny was still back with Three Five protecting our trains, as it were, as well as making sure no one snuck past us. She was gonna kick my ass for assuming…. Provided my ass and the others got out of this fine mess.
Time to get creative. Creative as in figure out how to get to that school… and inside.
For all intents and purposes, it looked like they were using it as a base. And if so, there was bound to be some good intel. Just had to cross about three hundred feet or so of semi-open ground. Go fucking figure… At least with the dismounts inside, it *should* take some of the heat from us.
Just about then, a pair of Apaches showed up to the party and they began hunting enemy armor. With them distracted, it was probably a good idea to boogie.
“Everyone!! Pop Smoke and haul ass!!” I hollered as I lifted my rifle to send lead down range. “Bounding overwatch up the street. Mac, watch the left!!”
“Ayeaye” came MacKenzie’s call and we moved out…. Only to see a missile streak up and clip an Apache.
Said Apache’s pilot performed a heroic autorotate even as his gunner laid into the area where the SAM came from. Thankfully for him, the drop wasn’t catastrophic, being he was only about twenty feet off the deck. Still high enough to hurt when they landed.
“Change of plan! Cover me!!” I yelled and sprinted for the downed bird, now sitting in the middle of the road like a cooked goose. As I got to the attack chopper, I head one of our precious few AT4’s get launched. As the pilot managed to pop his cockpit hatch, I used the front of the bird as cover and added my rifle to the chaos.
The pilot climbed out and reached for his gunner who appeared lifeless. A quick assessment confirmed what it looked like. “He’d dead,” the pilot yelled at me.
“So are we if we don’t get out of here!!” I yelled back and made to cover the pilot to get back to the crew… when Reed had her Stryker and dismounts come around the corner of the house directly across from the front of the school, her Mk 19 spitting rounds at anything that looked like it hid someone trying to shoot us. Which was pretty much everywhere in front of us.
My squad beat feet at this point, using 3-2 as cover/distraction to cross the ground to the wreck of the chopper and towards the school. Reed’s boys were also putting fire into windows to allow the movement. A second AT-4 was heard and seen streaking out at something out of my field of vision… which was fine. If I couldn’t see it, it wasn’t seeing me either.
As for the school, being hit from two sides gave what passed for defenders a reason to back off…. Which meant we were going to get TO the building. Once inside, it was going to be a mess. But a mess I was far better at than this open field shit.
Slinging my rifle, I drew my pistol; for close work, I preferred it or an MP5 to anything AR-related. Just plain more maneuverable. “3-2, 3-6. Get back. We are about to breach building.”
[Don’t have to tell me twice] Reed said as mere seconds later, her Stryker reversed back behind a building- a tank round crashing into the building just past her.
Climbing through a window, I was ready for almost anything when a very welcome sound came over my headset. [Delta Three Six, Delta One Six, Status?] Oh sweet Jesus… the Cavalry.
“Delta One Six, Three Six… We are down one Stryker and one Apache. Whiskey India Alpha unknown at this point, at least two Kilo India Alpha. Pilot of Apache recovered and able. Enemy combatants engaged and at least six vehicles destroyed. Currently inside base camp building and engaged.”
[Three Six, One Six, confirm at least five enemy armor destroyed or inop. ETA to location sixty seconds. Brutus Element says add sixty; they are coming from Two Eight Three…] came the reply. [Ganic, we’re coming…] The commander of Delta Company’s First Platoon, Jim Roach, was a former Seabee and a UDT washout through no fault of his own- leg injuries were a bitch to work through and that was what got him then. Didn’t stop him from joining the Guard though and getting a commission.
Remember when I said Small World?
“Trust me, Roach… Outside of the ‘Stan, I have never been so out of my goddamn element…” I replied. “This Fish is NOT happy right now…”
[No shit,] Came that familiar drawl back. [ETA 30 seconds, Jim. Fireworks coming…]
[Delta Three elements, Brutus Two One Alpha… the Cav is here…]
I found out later on from Reed that one of the BMD’s had come around the back side of the houses and had her dead to rights when it blew the hell up from a 120mm HE round. The Brutus Troop, having hauled ass to get here, had spread out line abreast as it came down the road- running over lawns and small trees as the quartet of 72-ton behemoths that were the M1A2 Abrams tank just drove through anything in the way. And once on scene, they hammered anything remotely armor related. Them light tanks stood zero chance.
Delta One and Two swarmed the outside; one hundred fairly angry Army Infantry backed by both standard and Gun System Strykers made some fast work out of resistance from outside troops AND managed to grab prisoners too. However, the fight inside the high school… would not be resolved so fast.
And strangely enough, it was an element I was very capable in.
“Ok guys… by the numbers,” I said to my guys in the school district building portion’s lobby, stepping over the very dead body of a Rebel. “3-1 and 3 have their inside down the end and will advance when we get stuck in. Check your shots and make ‘em count.” Two of my dismounts gave a thumbs up. “Just like school, fellas.”
One shot back. “These aren’t Sim-munitions, Chief.”
“So don’t get shot…” was my snark reply. “Ready?”
Nods from all present, even Nicols, who usually wasn’t part of these things. “Ready, Chief.” She said with a shaky smile.
A quick check of the load in the USP I had to hand verified I had the hollow points I favored. “Alrighty… Three…” I said as I stepped to the right of the Lobby, weapon trained up and out. “Two… One…. GO GO GO!”
Like a coiled spring, we moved out and advanced down the hall towards what likely was a cafeteria and gym, advancing doorway to doorway down the hall, the lockers serving as areas of cover for the advance. Down the hall, a couple of riflemen from the Opfor ducked into the hallway and froze, not expecting our happy asses to be here.
Two seconds later, both were dead as they attempted to lift their rifles and got shot for their efforts. At a sprint, we covered the ground of the hall- knowing full well someone was going to investigate the shots. And one did, poking his head out to look. It earned a shot from my pistol- which missed but not by damn much. We were ten feet from the door.
“Cover!” I called and ducked into an alcove, gun up. The rest did the same and Nicols took up station behind me, checking the room whose door we were using. One of my riflemen pulled out a frag and made it ready for use. “Count three and don’t miss,” I called out.
“Right,” He said as he set his rifle down. “Egg Toss!” He called out as he pulls the pin, let the spoon fly and two heartbeats later, horked it down the hall to bounce into the doorway the enemy had been seen.
BAMMMN!!!
As soon as it went off, I was running down the hall alongside two of the fire team. Getting to the door, I looked fast and ducked back as several rounds came out where my head had been about a second before. “US ARMY!!” I called out. “BUILDING IS SURROUNDED AND YOU GOT NO WHERE TO GO!!”
Some voices from inside as well as a muffled scream. Oh that’s not good…
A Russian accented voice was heard yelling back. “That’s nice, American. You will let us go or there will be civilian deaths on your hands… “
I knew that voice. By Neptune’s beard, I knew that voice. Looking over at Nicols, I quick and quietly told her to notify Delta 1 and 2 that we may have the local command holed up here with hostages. She nodded and stepped back to relay the info as I returned my attention to what was in the room. “*BELOV?*” I called out in Russian, hoping my memory could make up for the rust in using it. “*BELOV? IS THAT YOU, YOU UNCULTURED BARBARIAN?*” My eyes were closed, trying to gage where in the room he was by sound. Given there was a small war going on outside, it wasn’t easy… but some skills are like riding a bicycle…
In English came the reply. “That is some horrible Russian, Comrade… And who are you?”
I smiled… both at the surprise of my troops and the shock surprise in the voice of the man in the room. “*Ah COMRADE… I AM NOT SURPRISED YOU DON’T REMEMBER MY VOICE…*” I said and switched to English. “YOU WERE QUITE BOUND AND GAGGED AT THE TIME ON THAT BLACKHAWK WHEN VASILY WAS ABOUT TO DROP YOU OUT THE DOOR…” I really hoped the statute of limitations was up for that Job…
Some murmurs inside then a reply, in English again. “Ganic?” He asked. “You are supposed to be Dead, Comrade… Can’t find good help these days, It seems. How’s your Commander doing? Has he gotten his eye back?”
Ooooooooooo I should fucking know better than to talk to shitbags like him. “OH HE’S DOING BETTER… I’LL TELL HIM YOU SEND REGUARDS.” I swapped mags on my pistol. I was pretty damn sure I had where in the room he was when a tap on my arm took my attention. It was Nicols, who had a makeup mirror in her hand. I mouthed Thank You to her and brought it up so I could see without getting my hand shot off.
Belov had a prisoner in hand and held just in front of him, a pistol of his own in position to cover the door or shoot the woman. I will say this much… he wasn’t giving me a lot of space to work with but then, I’m fairly sure he’d never been in a SEAL shoot-house. Still… I needed to know where others *might* be.
Belov laughed. “I’m certain he will be thrilled to know I’m alive. If he still is, of course. That you are is shocking…”
I had managed to figure out where the other five or so were in the room. They were covering the door and the spaces that looked outside. A lot to cover… I looked at the remaining troops with me and spied elements of 3-1 and 3 on their way up the hall. But this thing about me being dead… I had to know.
“COMRADE… WHAT IS THIS DEAD THING YOU PRATTLE ON ABOUT?” I asked as I returned the compact mirror to Nicols, who ducked back once more. To the others on the far side of the door, I motioned about what I saw their positions were and got nods as they adjusted feet.
This might be the Call of Duty Generation… but given how popular the Door Stack mods were, these young’ns got it. We were moving in thirty seconds…. And I hoped Shoot House really was like riding a bike.
“Ah Comrade… when I came to the United States, I figured I would settle some old scores. You see, I owe you a bullet for every year I was in the Netherlands…. Too bad you were in EMP land…. Made getting you difficult.”
Oh so that’s who was looking for me back in November, I thought as I held up five fingers. Everyone tensed up as I shifted my feet. “SO THAT WAS THE FOOLS WHO GOT IN THE SHEEP PEN,” I said. “THE RAM DIDN’T LIKE THEM IN THERE….” I started dropping fingers. “AND WE NEVER DID IDENTIFY THEM. WE REALLY SHOULD TALK ABOUT THE QUALITY OF THE HELP YOU HIRE….” I dropped my hand and we moved….
The one thing about Violence of Action and doing a thing that was almost one hundred percent muscle memory, time really did seem to stand still. I mean, there was the Hollywood interpretation of it and there was what it actually felt like- watching your rounds leave your weapon and striking where you and yours aimed.
Strangely enough, the movies did come close to how it felt, imagery wise. The other was like in the sims where you see the return fire coming for you and not being quite fast enough to make it miss.
This would be one of those times.
In the span of three seconds, I came around the corner with my troop and we proceeded to drop everyone standing in the room that was armed. Shit you not, my merry band of misfits performed better than I had any right to hope for… Everyone who was armed and standing got got… as it should be.
My target was Belov and the body part I was aiming for was EXACTLY where I hit- a wonderfully placed forty-five hollowpoint in the man’s right shoulder of his gun arm. In the process, he did let go of the woman he was holding…
The problem for me was he put a nine-millimeter in my own shoulder where the body armor wasn’t… And I really don’t remember getting shot hurting this much.
Time then sped up.
“DOWN DOWN DOWN!”
“DON’T DO IT!”
“MEDIC!! CHIEF’S DOWN”
Hands grabbed me on the ground to set me on my back and another set pulled the armor off as a Combat Lifesaver trained troop started Immediate Care. At this point, I wasn’t aware of much- that shot fucking hurt a lot more than the last time I caught a round and concentrating was a wee bit difficult.
The last voice I heard was Nicol’s shrill “MOTHERFUCKER- MOVE WRONG AND I’LL BLOW YOUR NUTS OFF!!”. And my last thoughts before I passed out were-
Boy she sounds mad. I wonder if its Belov she’s threatening?
Motherfucker, that round hurt.
Sucks getting old…
Musings of a Gamer 