by Logan Jacobs
I made sure to touch each member of Team Havak on the shoulder before we split up. It was as good a “Team Havak, Go!” as we were going to get under the circumstances. I watched my teammates, my best friends, my lovers, shuffle off around the bend. We’d faced danger countless times at this point, but it never really got easier thinking that it could be the last time I saw them. So, I usually didn’t think about it. I spit on the dry dirt at my feet and motioned for my crew to follow me.
We crouched down low and made our way down the hillock until we’d reached the barbed wire coils. Frick and Mhhiney had wire cutters, and they set about cutting out a section of the thick anti-personnel barbs out of the way.
I watched the crew of the first cannon load and fire the weapon in a slow rhythm. They were intent and lulled by the relative monotony of the process. They weren’t expecting anyone to attack them and that had made them complacent. No one watched the barbed wire area that my crew and I now belly crawled through. The boom-boom-boom of the guns masked the noise of our movements as we snuck up to the mouth of the trench. Sand bags lined most of the lip of the trench and were built up all around the cannon. Seven or eight alien Nazis were gathered around the gun. Three of them operated it while the others kept their heads down. I assumed they were a second crew to take over once the first gun crew got tired or if anyone got wounded.
I was about to ruin their day.
A pineapple grenade filled my right hand as I cradled the Thompson in the crook of my left arm. I motioned for Frack to do the same and then mouthed “on three” to him. He grabbed a grenade from his belt and nodded that he understood. We both pulled the pins.
“Three… Two… One…” I said silently, then Frack and I lobbed our grenades into the midst of the soldiers surrounding the cannon.
The Nazis looked at the small green grenades like they didn’t know what the hell was happening. One realized it and began to yell but his voice died in his throat as the grenades exploded and said throat was ripped away with sizzling shrapnel.
Then all hell broke loose.
I heard the chatter-chatter of the .30 caliber machine gun and more grenade explosions from the other end of the trench. Small arms first rang out like a hyperactive kid revved up on too much sugar banging away on mom’s pots and pans.
To my right the Nazi MG blazed to life, and bullets zinged all around me and kicked up patches of dirt.
“Let’s go!” I yelled and ran into the trench, the Thompson held at the high ready at my shoulder as I fired short, three round controlled bursts, and the writhing Nazi soldiers in front of me. My small squad followed with their own guns blazing.
A wounded Nazi pulled himself up and pointed a pistol at me. My Thompson barked, and he flew backward as the .45 slugs blew through him. Before I knew it, I threw myself up against the side of the gun as I used the square metal gun shield as cover so that I could aim down the trench that lead to the next gun battery. It would only take the alien Nazis a few seconds to realize what was going on and send troops to retake this gun. I motioned for Frick to flank me so that we could cover the trench. I was going to turn what the Nazis had dug as a protection against them and turn the trench into a kill box for any soldier that attempted to rush us.
“Ehhney!” I shouted to be heard over the sounds of destruction. “TNT in the barrel!”
He nodded and I pulled a cigarette pack sized block of the powerful explosive out of the pocket of my jacket and tossed it to him. He ran around the long, heavy metal barrel of the cannon and shoved it into the guns gaping maw. A second later he dove for cover next to me.
“I don’t have any detonators!” He yelled.
“Hold on,” I yelled back as I fired down the trench. The reinforcements were coming now, and I emptied my magazine at the first three alien Nazi soldiers who ran toward us. “Don’t let them get any closer!”
I crawled around the metal wheel of the gun and saw an open box of German stick grenades. I grabbed one, unscrewed the end cap before I shoved the business end of the thing into the cannon barrel then yanked the arming pin.
“Fire in the hole!” I shouted and covered my head with my arms. A second later I felt the THUMP of the explosion in my chest. When I looked back, the barrel of the gun was mangled like a shredded straw.
One down, three to go.
“Mhhney, Frick, grab some of those potato mashers,” I shouted at them, then reloaded my Thompson. “Let’s go!”
I darted out from the sandbags and ran down the trench toward the other cannon battery, the Thompson at my shoulder. The world bounced and jostled as I ran. Dirt and sand flew everywhere while the wasp buzz of bullets swarmed all around us.
A lanky, alien Nazi, who looked just like an X-Files alien, appeared four feet in front of me. I expected his rifle to send me to the great beyond, but just as he was about to pull the trigger the side of his head blew out in a spray of black, ichorous blood and purple brain matter. I glanced over to my left and saw a flash of green-blue skin high up in a tree fifty yards away. Tempest had just saved my bacon in a big way. I guess we were officially even.
“Nazis from outer space can suck it,” I said as I stepped over the body of the dead alien. The sandbags on my right began to explode as the German MG 42 that covered the rear of the trenches realized what was happening and began to open fire on us. I slammed into the side of the trench with the barrel of the Thomspon pointed toward the dug in MG position. As I fired at the MG I waved Ehhney on toward the next gun. Mhhiney and Frack came up on either side of me.
“You two, go back to the first cannon area and see if you can sneak around behind that MG,” I yelled at them as the Thompson ran dry. “They should be too busy trying to cut us in half to notice. Hit’em with grenades or they are going to make the last bit of our assault real interesting.”
“Yes, sir,” Frack acknowledged. Before the two of them ran off, there was a loud boom from the nearest cannon.
I waved them to go as I loaded a fresh clip into the sub-gun before I continued to run down the trench.
Bullets tore up the dirt, and I had to hit the deck. I landed on the lifeless body of Ehhney. It looked like he’d caught the brunt of a grenade. His eyes stared skyward and were dotted with dark brown chunks of mud. I hadn’t known the young alien long or well, but he’d fought hard and bravely. Without realizing I was doing it I reached out and brushed the dirt away and then closed his eyelids as a cold rage welled up inside of me.
With the Thompson held in front of me like a vengeful talisman, I pushed up and drove forward. The two alien Nazis who were left in the cannon bunker spun toward me but they were too late. Muzzle flash fire licked the air as the Thompson delivered .45 caliber retribution, and they crumpled to the ground. The rest of my squad followed behind and took up defensive positions.
I pulled another block of TNT from my jacket and tossed it down the barrel of the cannon. Frick followed it with a potato masher.
“Fire in the hole!” He yelled, and we covered our heads as the grenade-TNT combo exploded to turn the barrel into a mangled metal mess.
Two down, two to go.
I pressed myself up against the sandbags that faced the treeline and waved my arms. A few moments later Huh-Uhp and Duh-Uhp scrambled into the small earth bunker.
“Reposition that MG on the other side of the sand bags here,” I said and pointed to the opposite end of the bunker where the back end of the cannon was. We’d reached the point where the semi-circle curved and could now see the last two cannon batteries. “Cover our assault.”
Just then, there were two explosions in quick succession from the field to the right, and the storm of bullets that had kept all of our heads down stopped. I popped my head over the sandbags and saw Mhhney and Frack wave from the German MG position. I knife edged my hand and directed their attention to the last two cannon placements. Frack nodded, and they took up the MG42, aiming it toward the end of the trenches. What had once been covering fire for the German’s now became our hurr
icane of hellfire.
“No rest for the weary, fellas, let’s go!” I yelled, and we continued down the trench.
The alien Nazis had figured out that we had them in a kill box and some of them broke ranks and began to run away. They were cut down by their own machine gun as Frack poured hot lead down field.
I heard the distinctive chug-chug of Nova’s BAR and watched several more alien Nazis pitch over, their bodies full of gaping holes.
We reached the third cannon with little resistance, and a TNT-potato masher combo later, and it was wiped out as well.
“Running low on ammo here, sir,” Mhhoe barked out as he and Nova joined us in the bunker. I ducked back and waved at where Aurora and Tempest were. Seconds later Aurora dove into our bunker. She had a devilish grin on her face, the barrel of her M1 carbine smoking. She tossed a bandolier of clips to Mhhoe without having to be asked. Tempest had stayed in her position, and I heard the sharp crack-crack-crack as she sniped from the tree.
Three down, one to go.
The last cannon was well defended. The remaining alien Nazis had mounted a last stand, and their fire kept us pinned down for the most part.
Three more Allied alien GIs followed us from the trenches behind us.
“Who the hell are you guys?” I asked to the unknown soldiers.
“We saw the party and thought we’d join,” a furry alien said with a half lit cigarette hung jauntily out of her bottom lip. One of the three had a large radio pack on their back. It squawked, and he handed the telephone like receiver over to me.
“This is Lieutenant Havak, here, over,” I said into it.
“Howdy Havak,” PoLarr’s voice came from the ear piece. “I got a few Mustangs headed your way, you want some cover?”
“God I missed you,” I said to the Val’Keerye.
“I take that as an affirmative,” she replied. “See you in a bit.”
“Okay, let’s finish this,” I grunted at the surrounding troops while I slapped another fresh mag into the Thompson.
The Nazis were giving us everything they had which kept us stuck in the same position. They had a superior angle on the trench that led to their bunker. I drew the .45 Colt and tossed it into my left hand. “I’ll draw their fire, and you storm that bunker with everything you have.”
Nova nodded, dropped her empty BAR and cross drew her own .45s.
“Right behind you, sugar,” Aurora said and slapped a fresh mag into her M1 as she smiled at me.
“Come on, you wanna live forever?” I yelled and climbed up on top of the trenches lip and began to run toward the Nazis. The ground all around me exploded as bullets tore into the dirt. My fingers pulled the triggers on both guns and sent double fisted .45 caliber fury at the enemy while my legs pumped and chewed up the distance.
While the Nazi’s attention was on me out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nova and Aurora lead the charge down the trench and heard the battle cry of the rest of the squad. The remaining Nazis went down in a maelstrom of blood and bullets as I dove into the cannon bunker, my guns empty and smoking like a cigar after a satisfying meal.
I was just about to toss my last block of TNT into the barrel of the gun when the ground rumbled, and a loud clanking filled my ears.
Two Panzer tanks rolled over the hill and trained their guns on us.
“Take cover!” I shouted while I watched as the turrets turned toward us in slow motion. Then I heard the screaming of a super-charged Merlin 66 engine as a P-51 Mustang zoomed out of the heavens with its twin .50 caliber machine guns blazing. The armor-piercing bullets peppered the tanks as the plane dove toward them. At the last second the Mustang pulled up and dropped a 500lb bomb on the two Panzers.
The explosion was like Satan’s scream, and a huge mushroom fireball bloomed orange black in the sky. The Mustang did a low level fly by and wagged its wings. I caught a brief flash of PoLarr in the cockpit as she saluted before the plane pulled up and disappeared into the low-hanging clouds.
One of the squad tossed the remaining potato mashers into the barrel of the cannon, and a moment later it blew outward.
Four down, zero to go.
The small arms fire wound down, and the last few alien Nazi’s surrendered.
Maybe thirty seconds passed, and my rag-tag squad formed up in the last bunker. Tempest hopped down from the edge of the trench, her cigar still in her mouth, gun on her hip. Nova held her pistols loosely at her side while Aurora slung her M1 over her shoulder.
“Out fucking standing,” I said to them with a satisfied grin.
Then I felt the familiar tickle as my molecules were blown apart, and I was teleported across the galaxy.
Chapter Four
A moment later, my atoms reformed inside the cellophane like mat-trans tube inside our gym at the Hall of Champions. I stepped out of the tube, and all of a sudden confetti and ticker tape floated down from the ceiling like it was V-E day in New York city.
The next thing I knew a beautiful brunette filled my arms as I laid a monster kiss on her. One arm went behind her slender back, and I bent her over slightly as our lips met. We looked just like the famous photo of a U.S. Navy sailor kissing the woman in the white dress on V-J day in Times Square. After a long, deep, passionate kiss I let the woman up, and we parted.
“Well hello there, soldier,” Artemis said and hugged me tight.
“Hey dollface,” I said and hugged her back.
Artemis V-Five was a highly complex AI program that had been downloaded into a bioengineered human body to act as my attaché, guide, personal assistant, medic, and all around My Girl Friday when I first got to the Crucible of Carnage. Her compact, shapely frame felt good in my arms as her full, perky breasts pressed into my torso, and my hands rested on her shapely hips. She wore her standard blue-gray jumpsuit that bristled with tech gadgets and hugged all of her curves like a high performance sports car. She usually left the front zipper at half-mast which always gave a wonderful view of the round swell of her breasts and a delicious tease of sexy bra lace. Today was no different.
“I almost excreted a stone when those tanks showed up,” she bubbled as we walked over toward the giant console of computers and display screens on the side of the gym near our weapons lockers and workout equipment that we’d dubbed the Command Center.
“Shit a brick,” I corrected her gently. Artie had only been a human for a few months and still struggled with English euphemisms and human emotions. She’d come a long way in a short time though.
“That’s what I said,” she replied. “Here look.”
Artemis tapped a few buttons on the small screen strapped to her forearm like a watch and one of the display screens embedded in the wall blazed to life. It showed a scratchy black and white newsreel like footage angle on the battle my team and I had just fought. The shaky, handheld footage jostled and bumped around as it captured a low angle of the German Panzers as they crested the hill and began to bear down on our position in the trenches. I caught a glimpse of myself from just a few minutes earlier, although it now seemed like forever ago. Once the adrenaline faded after a match it always felt like that. Like time had warped into Silly Putty, all stretchy and weird. I stood on top of the trench with a fierce determined look on my face, the Thompson in my right hand and the Colt in my left as I led the rest of my squad toward the final cannon.
“Eat your heart out Sargent Rock,” I murmured.
“He was killed unceremoniously within the first two minutes of the match, human,” Grizz bellowed from above me.
“Huh?” I uttered as I turned and looked up into the ram horned holographic face of my trainer Grizz. He was six-foot-six-inch, two-hundred pounds of space barbarian and gazed down on me with a patented cock of his eyebrow. Grizz looked remarkably like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Like, so much so that I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t sometimes. You know, except that he had giant ram horns that protruded from the side of his massive skull, had been one of the Crucible’s most celebrated champions until hi
s former teammate had stabbed him in the back and killed him, and was my trusted trainer and friend. Grizz’s consciousness had been downloaded into the mainframe computer before his final match, and he had been assigned to act as my trainer since my first day as champion. He was gruff, uncompromising, and one of my closest friends even though he was a holographic ghost from long ago.
“You are referring to Saarjint Rawk, Bronze Tier champion from Chitari Four, are you not?” He inquired, now equally confused as I was. “He was killed when his aircraft burst into flames not two minutes into the match.”
“Um, no, I was making a popular culture reference to an obscure comic book character that really no one would get but me,” I explained with a shrug of my shoulders.
“I felt you, Havak,” PoLarr chimed in as she and the rest of my alliance mates walked over from their teleportation tubes. “I was channeling all kinds of Lady Blackhawk myself.”
“Hell yeah you were,” I said and high-fived her. “Zinda Blake ain’t got nothing on you.”
“What in Paladin are you two blathering on about?” Nova asked as she plopped herself down in one of the comfy, high backed executive chairs that surrounded the conference table near the command center.
“Well, Nova,” PoLarr began, “Sargent Rock and Lady Blackhawk are DC comic book characters made famous for their gritty adventures during World War Two. Lady Blackhawk was a female fighter pilot ace who was part of a high flying group known as the Blackhawks. She was tough as nails and one hell of a broad. And… why is this nonsense filling my brain, Havak? Why?”
“Because I spent a lot of time at my local comic shop as a teenager?” I answered. The Soul Gaze that had given me amazing gun fighting skills and allowed me to operate a Val-Keerye jetpack like I was born to it also filled PoLarr’s head with thirty years of random nonsense like super specific details on a little known comic book character. “You are welcome.”
“What are we talking about, sugars?” Aurora drawled as she practically poured herself into another one of the chairs. Now that we were back in the gym we were all back in our normal outfits and gear. Aurora once again rocked her regular attire that I had dubbed “Combat Lingerie”. Today’s ensemble was a bright pink corset that made her already very large breasts somehow larger as it pushed them up and out so that they looked like alabaster mountains that I wanted to very much motor boat at that moment because I am twelve in my head. A matching pink pair of booty hugging boy shorts covered her spectacular ass and had built in garters that connected to matching thigh high stocking-boots. The whole ensemble was completed by a black cloak that had a blood red satin interior and always curled and flowed around her body like it had a mind of its own. Which at this point, I was pretty sure it did. The pink stood out in stark contrast to her pearl white skin and silvery hair. Her purple eyes gazed at me with delighted interest as her geometric tribal tattoos pulsed across her torso.
