by Rolf Nelson
CUT TO
EXT - DAY - Southeast hilltop
Another grassy hill with small trees and scattered brush. A foursome on a nature outing, two couples, one older, one younger, sit partially concealed with binoculars watching birds.
Watcher1: Oh, look at that one! A female!
Watcher2 : Very pretty!
CUT TO
View through binoculars of a brightly colored bird on a branch. The bird is in focus, and everything else, branches, twigs, and a bright sky, is blurred. Looming abruptly into view a blurred dark spot covers the background. The binoculars come down, and focus goes from the bird to Tajemnica flying in directly at them, huge and closing fast.
Watcher3: AAHHHHHHHHH!
All four throw themselves flat on the ground. Tajemnica roars past just over them, the wind of its passing flattening bushes and trees like a hurricane, her hull seriously clipping the taller ones. The older man lifts his head and stares at the retreating ship as it angles up and climbs fast, then at the destruction around him, eyes wide. The birds are gone.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Bridge of Tajemnica
Cooper, Helton, Allonia, Bipasha all wear expressions of relief as they give a collective exhalation.
Cooper: Now they’ll move to cover all points. Coming back’ll be a bitch.
Helton: Yeah… unless we circle around, hunt them now while they’re not expecting us.
Bipasha: Hunt them with what?
Helton: Just what we planned on doing here. Cooper, hit the deck, circle around to the north hill.
Cooper: Seriously!?
Helton: Never a better time. Do it.
Cooper turns sour and stubborn, and does nothing.
Cooper: I can’t believe you want to try running into the ground! Risk is too high!
Quiritis: Just a little hill. No problem.
Lag enters the bridge.
Lag: Colliding with things again?
Helton: If they’re still on the hilltop. Quiri, you just got promoted to first pilot. Do it!
Cooper is surprised, Quiri’s face sets in a bland, focused look as she pushes the yoke forward.
Quiritis: (Calmly) Aye-aye, sir. You might want to tell people to brace for impact; it may be more than the inertial compensators can handle.
Lag: What if they have moved down to redeploy? Then you’ll be back inside the circle, in range.
There is a moment of tense silence as they consider that.
Helton: Cornhole ‘em.
Lag: (Skeptical, as if he must not have heard right) Excuse me?
Helton: (Into mic, voice echoing on the ship) All personnel! Clear the cargo bay, secure all middeck windows, close all hatches onto the cargo bay! (To Ship AI) Tajemnica, open forward and aft cargo bay airlock doors. Prepare to fast-drop the bow ramp and lower the stern partially now. If they are on the hilltop, we level the hilltop with the bow ramp up. If they are down where we can’t turn ‘em into road kill, we drop the ramps, bump the ship, and the wind blowing through will knock the bags off the aft ramp. A few hundred fifty-kilo beanbags at four hundred kph should flatten a pretty good area, and one of those things will take out anyone it lands on.
Lag: Are you serious?
Helton: Quiritis, can you do it if Taj can time the ballistics of a “bombing run” right?
Quiritis: (Still very calm) Beanbags are not in the ground assault combat manual, but gravity bombing is simple.
Helton: Good thing I never read that manual.
Her hands start running over the controls, figuring the right speeds and angles.
Cooper: (Sarcastically) Sure, why not? Run into hills on purpose, fight missiles with beanbags. Makes perfect sense. In someone’s universe.
Helton: Taj, can you do it?
Ship AI: (OC) The physics of falling objects are well understood. The details of moving that much mass by wind tunnel effect will be… a bit more complex.
Lag: Use the loading arms to make it a more controlled ejection?
Cooper: Hill’s coming up fast!
Ship AI: (OC) Three men. One launcher confirmed. Three men downhill two hundred fifty meters.
CUT TO
EXT - DAY - North Hilltop
Three men in camo stand, heads just above the brush silhouetted on the skyline, looking into the distance. One points at something of interest. A rising rush of air, and behind them Tajemnica surges rapidly into view, hull partially below the horizon. They whirl around and stand motionless in shock at seeing a wall of metal rushing towards them. Tajemnica’s hull grazes the ground, leveling a flat spot where the men were standing, not slowing at all. As it passes over the hilltop, the bow clears the crest, the ramp drops. Tajemnica screams past, dirt splashing away like water in a barge’s bow wave. The view follows it past, the back ramp is down, piles of beanbags clearly visible. The fast-moving ship suddenly jumps a bit, like it’s going over a speed bump at high speed, and noses up sharply.
CUT TO
INT - DAY - Cargo bay
View of the aft ramp, looking forward. Pallets of bags cover most of the ramp. The cargo bay is swept clean, all hatches and windows shut tight. With a WHUMP the bow ramp at the far end drops open and there is the roar of rushing air. The two loading arms with forklift attachments are extended, one holding a stack of pallets down, the other is in front, ready to push others back and over the edge. The corners of the bags lift and ruffle, threatening to move under the wind pressure put on them. There is a bump, everything jumps, and only sky is seen through the bow door. The beanbags on one side get a shove and fly off the ramp.
CUT TO
EXT - DAY - Side of the north hill
Amid the brush, small trees, and grass, three men in camo trudge quickly and quietly, all with packs and gear, one carrying a launcher, the others with extra missile tubes. The sound of crashing trees, flying earth and ringing metal makes them spin around to look uphill where they had just left. Tajemnica plows through the hill crest trailing debris, passing directly overhead. As she tips up they reflexively throw themselves flat on the ground even though Taj is too high to hit them. Falling from the stern ramp a waterfall of bags tumbles out in a disorderly line, falling much more sideways than down, like grazing fire nearly parallel to the ground, picking up downward speed fast. The soldiers are near the leading edge of the cascade as the bags fall past and on them, crashing through the brush and small trees like a blast from a titanic shotgun. One man is hit squarely on the body, another in the head. The third screams in pain as bags crush his legs. Tajemnica roars off, turning and arcing up and away from the other hill with a ManPAD team. The survivor rolls back and forth a bit, struggling to get the bags off his shattered legs, grimacing in pain. He manages to roll over and sees his motionless comrades, the obviously broken launcher next to one of them, and the ten meter wide swath of destruction surrounding him. He looks up the hill. He reaches for his com unit.
CUT TO
Wooded hillside down from the west hill
A three-man team in camo walks hurriedly though the trees, equipped similarly as the beanbagged team. Coms squawk.
Survivor1: (OC though com, sounding pained and desperate) Team 3 down! Team 3 Down! Come in Team 4!
The men freeze and bring rifles up, looking for unseen enemies.
Survivor1: (OC over com) Team 3 down! Team 3 Down! No response Team 4! Come in Team 2!
One of the soldiers carrying spare missile tubes thumbs his throat mic.
Team2 Leader: Team 2 here. Sitrep!
Survivor1: They dropped shit on us! They came back over the hill! Broke my legs! They hit the hill, then dropped some sort of bags on us! Delatam and Poya are dead! The launcher’s broken! I can’t walk!
Team2 Leader: (Thumbing throat mic) We’ll do what we can. (Releases mic, angry) SHIT! Shit-shit-shit! He’s screwed. Only two, now… SHIT!
The three look at each other, uncertainty written on their faces.
Team1 Leader: (OC, over com unit) Now what?
T
eam2 Launcher: I say we-
Ship AI: (OC, over their com units, deep, malevolent voice) Run. The bag limit on ManPAD teams is four a day. We still have two tags to punch. If you are within eight kilometers of the Center when we return, we will kill you as well. Any use of these com units will be understood as continued hostile intent and you will all die. You have two hours. Tajemnica out.
The three look at each other. One reaches for his throat mic, and the leader shakes his head urgently.
Team2 Leader: (Concerned and decisive) I don’t know how but we are way outside the plan. Fall back to the rally point, report and get orders. Total electronic silence. Total. Clear?
The others nod, change direction, start trotting though the woods.
FADE TO BLACK
FADE IN
INT - DAY - Kat’s office in building 1701
She sits at her desk, Councilor Darch on a screen. He’s cadaverously thin, with intense eyes, perfect hair, and immaculate shirt and jacket. The office behind him is lavish and large.
Kat: How the hell am I supposed to know they’d see your guys and do that so your SAM couldn’t shoot? He didn’t call before they lifted.
Councilor Darch: Don’t you advise him?
Kat: I’m his legal adviser. I don’t know what he’s doing most of the time and even then he’s constantly running hypotheticals by me. I’m not a mind reader!
Councilor Darch: (Angry) I’ve paid you a LOT of good money! I expect good information!
Kat: Everything I’ve passed you is correct. You get what I can afford to give! Now get off this unsecured connection and let me see what I can find out!
The screen goes blank. Kat leans forward, elbows on the desk, and puts her face in her hands, sighing, looking tired.
DISSOLVE TO
Dropping in
EXT - EVENING - Training field
A temporary camp with tents and a few simple container-sized prefab buildings is set up near a simple firing range at the foot of a high ridge not far from Adelaide. Recruits are sitting in small groups cleaning weapons and gear. Harbin roars up in a light truck, brakes to a halt in a cloud of dust, and hops out almost before it’s stopped.
Harbin: BUCK! BRENNEKE! FOSTER! SABOT! PLUMBATA! I need you five volunteers to fall in!
They scramble up and over to him, falling into a more or less straight line facing him, rifles at port arms.
Harbin: You have some recreational skydiving experience, right?
Buck: Yes, First Sergeant!
Harbin: Good. We got some size four brain cells with a size seven attitude and a mobile SAM battery giving the Colonel and Tajemnica a problem. The agreed-to arms level contracts severely limit what we can do, and OpFor is keeping friendlies tied up at the moment, so they offered us a one-target contract to deal with it for them. Think you’re up for a drop-in live-fire field exercise?
Foster: At NIGHT? Right NOW?! FOR REAL?
Harbin: Yes, at night. In the dark, too. A potentially hot LZ, low altitude jump into a wooded area, voice-only communication, against an air-defense unit. Very limited allowed electronics, weapons, and transport methods. Lots of ways to have fun, even more ways to get yourself hurt, lost, or killed. No air cover or support, just us and what we drop with.
The five look at each other, surprised and uncertain.
Harbin: I normally wouldn’t ask this, but you’re better than the average ‘cruits and Tajemnica is getting shot at. Right now all they’ve got is us. Can’t order you to go because it is not training or a contract you’ve signed. If you go, you’ll get combat contract pay and coverage, even if the bad guys don’t show up to play target. No shame to not want to get shot at in a night drop you haven’t trained for.
Sabot: So who goes if we don’t?
Harbin: Me, Kaminski, Kaushik.
Foster: Who else?
Harbin: Whatever spirits seem to watch over the Colonel, the Captain, and his scatter-brained ship.
Plumbata: Just the three of you?
Harbin: (Shrugging off their skepticism) Plenty of targets for everyone.
Foster: Didn’t sign up for push-ups. I’m in.
The rest nod agreement, voicing affirmatives.
Harbin: Grab your packs, weapons, and field kit. We’ll get ammo and the rest back at the pad. You have 90 seconds.
The five scatter at a run to retrieve equipment.
Harbin: MEPLAT! CANNELURE! OGIVE! Grab your gear! Armor, rifles, and kit! You get to learn how to play badass crowd control muscle! MOVE! You have EIGHTY seconds!
CUT TO
INT - NIGHT - Tajemnica’s bridge
Helton, Quiritis, Cooper, Lag, Bipasha
Ship AI: (OC) I am picking up some very unusual communications between LT Kat, Councilor Darch, Seymore, and an unidentified fourth party. I believe the information distribution pattern is useful.
CUT TO
EXT - DUSK - Landing pad D9
Harbin sits in the cab of a light truck full of bundles with parachute containers on them, the five recruits standing next to it. Tajemnica glides in, ramp already down, landing right behind them. Harbin backs it rapidly up the ramp and tromps on the brakes, causing some of the equipment in the back to spill out the back end. The recruits sprint up the ramp to help empty the rest. In a few moments it’s all out. Harbin roars off the ramp, stops at the bottom, jumps out and hops onto the ramp as Tajemnica lifts away into the encroaching darkness.
DISSOLVE TO
INT - NIGHT - Tajemnica ramp
Dim red lights. Three large stacks of gear in cargo netting with cargo chutes on top are piled on the edge of the raised ramp, static lines rising from the bundles to the clip-line above. Three Plataeans and the recruits are dressed in body armor with jump harnesses. The red light blinks, the ramp starts to lower, loose ends flutter in the wind. Allonia gives Kaminski a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. He smiles at her, nods.
Kaminski: (Confidently) Back before you know it. With my shield.
Allonia: You’d better. Luck!
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Gear 1 and Group 1, READY!
Lights flash.
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Group 1, GO!
The men push one pile of gear off the edge and it drops into the darkness. A moment later Kaminski and two of the recruits leap after it one after another, static lines trailing behind them, going taut, then streaming out into the night.
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Group 2, READY!
The lights flash.
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Group 2, GO!
Harbin and a recruit shove their pile over the edge then go after it.
Another short pause.
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Group 3, READY!
The lights flash again.
Quiritis: (OC, through speakers) Group 3, GO!
The last pile goes over the edge, a very brief pause, then Kaushik and the last two recruits jump after.
Allonia looks out into the night, the wind swirling her hair. She hugs herself as a cold chill goes through her, a worried expression clouds her face.
CUT TO
INT - NIGHT - Kat’s office
Kat looks exhausted. She faces a screen with a very angry Councilor Darch.
Darch: They killed two missile teams for sure, and I’ve not heard from the others! You said it wasn’t armed!
Kat: It isn’t, goddamit! Her sensors are good, they must have been seen. If your idiots managed to get themselves killed, it ISN’T MY FAULT!
Darch: (Yelling) I don’t HIRE idiots! I hire the best, except for YOU! Four ManPADS teams positioned for a clear shot, then NOTHING! Not a DAMNED WORD!
Kat: ManPADS? Those aren’t allowed in the Zone! How do you know they are dead?!
Darch: They weren’t in the declared zone. A flyby showed a lot of ground damage in their area. They must have been fired on!
Kat: If you can’t get anyone at the RC then you’ll have to move the main SAM battery.
Darch: They might be se
en if they move!
Kat: There’s a wooded valleys fifteen kilometers from the pickup point. Right on the edge of the declared zone. They can shift a couple of launchers, be there and set up for the trip after next, if they’re any good. Move in fast and tight, keep electronics off during transit, stay on the valley road. That should be close enough. I can pass intel it’s a safe direction if they stay low. A heavy SAM will never have an easier shot.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT - EARLY DAWN - Hillside ambush point
Dim predawn light, everything gray and silent. A brushy hillside overlooking a wide, shallow valley with slender pines and a curving narrow road down the middle. Harbin and recruit Sabot sit in a hastily dug and camouflaged mortar pit about four hundred meters from the road. A light mortar is set up with a dozen rounds ready to fire lined up on the side, fuse safety pins still in, small note cards under each. Two heavy rifles with scopes and lunchbox-sized magazines in them sit at the ready, with extra magazines beside them. Suppressed rifles with magazines and bandoleers lie ready to use or grab and move with. Harbin is checking mortar settings.
Harbin: OK, range and angle that black rock next to the white one near the curve.
Sabot raises his optical rangefinder, a binocular-like device with a short tube sticking out on each side, adjusts it as he finds the target.
Sabot: Middle of the road, next to the black rock next to white rock. Five eight five meters, forty-one degrees.
He looks at a printed card for a moment, then makes a few notes on it. He sets the card down and picks up another mortar round from its canister. He puts one propellant increment on its base and lays it down.
Sabot: All laid in. Now what?
Harbin: We wait.
Sabot: …What if they don’t come?
Harbin: We wait longer. Pray if it makes you feel better.
There is a long pause, a tense look on the young man’s face.
Sabot: What if there are too many?
Harbin: Contract says we get the SAMS. Then we worry about how many there. Keep your mind on the mission. We are SAM hunting. Some what-if’s are fine; worrying about shit you can’t do anything about just wastes calories. Intel says a couple of launchers, a few support trucks, maybe a platoon of guys. Now, tell me the drill again.
