by Jim Roberts
"Hey!"
Rourke snapped out of his morose mood, looking at Joe.
"You okay?" The ex-Ranger asked.
"Fine."
"You don't look fine."
"Lot on my mind." Rourke replied, still looking out the open black hawk door.
Joe was about to ask what was bugging the man, when the comlink in his inner ear beeped.
"This is Braddock, go ahead, over."
"This is Brick. Good to hear your voice, mate."
"You too Sergeant. Is Miss Anders ready to fly, over?"
"That's affirm. What's your ETA, over?"
"Twenty minutes. How is it out there, over?"
"Quiet here most of the morning. Fighting is still confined to the downtown area, over."
"Good. Stand by at LZ, over."
"We'll be here with beer and pretzels. Out."
Joe checked his rifle one last time. It was a tradition the ex-Ranger had; to check his gun the last moment before a mission began. It was his innate cautiousness to make sure he was never caught unawares with a weapon that refused to fire. Hatfield was in the rebel controlled south district of the city−technically the first area of the city they would be entering. Joe hoped the sight of the American Black Hawk wouldn't scare some rebel kid with an RPG to take a pot-shot at the aircraft.
If all things went well, this would only take an hour.
Then...it was David Musabe's turn.
Downtown District, Sadoma
The Hyperion and Manticore wings moved through the downtown district of Sadoma. Titus hadn't been this far south in the city yet, at least in an aircraft. As he sat in the co-pilot chair of the Hyperion, the fair-haired Olympus commander contacted the other aircraft in the fighter wing.
"This is Tribune Titus. The attack will commence as soon as Prometheus is in place. Reduce speed and standby for orders."
They could not wait long. Rebel forces in the city enjoyed moving between the burned out buildings, equipped with anti-aircraft weapons. They had already lost nearly a dozen Chimera drones on patrol in the area due to the rebel's uncanny knack for hitting them out of the air with a lucky Stinger missile blast.
The comm unit on his virtual interface beeped an incoming call.
Falco's bearded, one-eyed face filed the holographic image.
"My Lord, Octavia has told me you are planning to attack Hatfield!"
"Why are you not holding down the western district as I asked?"
Falco ignored the question, "What you are doing, my lord, is counter to the Imperator's orders. We are not supposed to engage a civilian populace in any way."
Titus sneered at the image of his bodyguard. "There are no civilians in this war, Falco."
"Titus," Falco said desperately, calling his young master by name, "Olympus is an army that stands for honor. We fight other men's wars because they lack the courage. We do not wipe out innocent people incapable of defending themselves. We have no proof that the leadership of the URAF is in Hatfield!"
"I have all the proof I need. That entire area is covered with anti-aircraft missiles. Why do you think they would need those?"
"I know you are eager to prove yourself, but this is not the way!" Falco was shouting now.
"Your objection has been noted."
Titus swiped the image of his bodyguard away from the holographic interface. His face had grown hot during the course of the conversation.
Falco didn't understand, Titus knew it. This was the only logical course of action. He would burn the rebels out from their hiding place and test the true effectiveness of their Titan of war, all in one fell swoop.
On the interface heads-up-display, he saw the image of the Obsidian armored super-soldier making his way across the city, jumping wildly from building to building. Titus marveled at Prometheus's power. It may be limited in its time of use, but he only needed a few minutes.
For the first time in his life, Titus felt truly alive.
* * *
AT THE northern entrance to Hatfield, the anti-aircraft weapons that guarded the city were manned and operated by veteran URAF soldiers; dark skinned Zimbalan men well trained by Muzenda's forces in the operation of the unwieldy rocket launchers. For the past few weeks, they had been the frontline defense the small district had had against the unmanned Olympus drones that would attempt to infiltrate the perimeter.
One of these soldiers, an older veteran of URAF named Josiah, was sitting amidst the debris of his foxhole. Across his lap was a Stinger-missile launcher, fully armed and ready to blow any nosy drone Olympus sent out of the sky.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something moving through the streets to the north, about half a click away. At first he thought it was a man, but it moved too quick to be human. He raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes to get a better view. What he saw baffled him.
It was a man, running faster than humanly possible. Covered in a dark body armor, the man seemed to glow a luminous blue as he ran; as if he was being charged by electricity coming from within him. Suddenly the man leapt out of Josiah's view. Dropping the binoculars, the URAF veteran tried to reacquire the man visually, but couldn't spot him.
Too late, Josiah saw the man leap like a grasshopper onto the bombed out office building two hundred feet directly in front him.
Josiah watched in fascination as this man−who moved like no man he'd ever seen−leapt off the rooftop and flew towards him like a bullet. In the last fraction of a second Josiah had on earth, he saw the man draw what looked like some sort of sword from his back and swipe a brutal arch towards him.
Josiah pitched backwards, cut neatly in two straight up the middle. The dark man landed hard beside the dismembered corpse. After making a quick sweep of the area, it discovered the other anti-aircraft nests dotting the perimeter of Hatfield. With an effortless leap, he jumped again towards the next unlucky soul.
* * *
BRICK REYNOLDS stood amidst the cleared out LZ, an area that had once been a small playground for an elementary school before the outbreak of the war. Jacob's rebels had cleared away as much area as possible for the Black Hawk to make its landing. It would be tight, but doable. Brick had faith in the Marine pilot.
It hadn't been easy between them. He had only known WO Isabella Cordova since they joined the Peacemakers ten months ago, two months before they met Joe and Danny. There was a significant age gap between them−Brick being thirty-eight and Isabella twenty-seven.
He hadn't wanted to end things between them, but Izy had been adamant. It was just getting too difficult to keep something going in the breakneck atmosphere of the Peacemakers. Izy had told him she was thinking of transferring out of the Unit, perhaps to a security job somewhere stateside. That had upset Brick more than he wanted to admit. He had been thinking of taking their relationship to the next level, perhaps leaving himself.
But now...
Brick sighed as he looked around the area. Surrounding the LZ were several ramshackle tin buildings. Brick had warned Jacob that for the time being they should be evacuated. The Black Hawk rotors could kick up quite a dust storm. He waited at street level, watching the crowds of people go by. A half dozen of Jacob's most trusted rebel soldiers waited along the pedestrian road, keeping bystanders from entering the LZ.
To Brick's right, sitting in the gravel by one of the tin huts, was Krieger. He was trying to teach Bowser how to shake a paw. The mutt didn't seem to like silly games.
Brick checked his watch. Ten more minutes. He tapped the top of his FN FAL with his left hand, as if trying to keep in tune with a song he was thinking about.
His quarry, Sarah Anders, stood beside him. It was growing mercilessly hot as the day progressed. November was Zimbala's summertime and the mercury was already spiking at thirty-eight degrees.
Brick was alerted to the sound of a car pulling up behind him. Swivelling around, he saw Jacob get out of an old beaten up Ford station wagon that looked like it had been left over from the 80s.
"Mister Re
ynolds, something is wrong!" Jacob yelled as he ran towards them.
"What is it, Jacob?" Sarah asked, her face instantly concerned.
"We have lost contact with seven anti-air batteries on the north edge of Hatfield! I sent a patrol to investigate, but they will not answer my radio calls!"
Brick frowned. Krieger got to his feet, hefting his M60E3.
"Could it be radio failure?" The Russian asked Jacob.
"No, I don't think so." Jacob's face was pulled with worry. Brick felt for the young man. He had just watched his father die hours ago and was now in charge of a full-on rebellion. Not an easy thing for a twenty-something kid.
The Hatfield perimeter was two kilometers due north. From there, the downtown proper sprung up with its blown out buildings doting the horizon. Brick shielded his eyes, trying to see from his vantage point. It was too crowded to get a decent view.
"Let's head up that building, guv." Brick said to Jacob, motioning to the decrepit remains of the old school. "We can get a better view at the top."
Brick left Sarah with Krieger and followed Jacob into the old school. It was being used as sleeping quarters for several families. They were alarmed at the intrusion of the two men, but Jacob reassured them they were only going to be there a minute. Heading up a set of stairs, they reached the top in thirty seconds.
Brick removed a set of binoculars from his pack and raised them to his eyes. He had a decent view of the perimeter, but couldn't see what, if anything, could cause a communications outage.
But when he elevated the binoculars up, Brick's blood turned to ice.
Coming southbound through the downtown district was a fleet of aircraft.
Hyperions.
Brick made a quick count. There were at least a dozen. Following them were at least half a dozen Olympus helicopters.
It was enough firepower to reduce Hatfield to ashes.
They had almost reached the perimeter of the rebel controlled district.
"Mary Mother of God!"
Brick lowered the binoculars and took off back inside the school−racing down the stairs before Jacob could ask what he had seen.
"We've got incoming!" Brick roared as he exploded out of the front door of the school. Jacob followed closely behind, a bewildered expression on his face. Brick ran towards Krieger and Sarah, yelling loudly as he went, "At least a dozen Hyperion VTOLs, and...six helicopters!"
"What do they want?" Sarah asked, her voice shaking.
Krieger answered for Brick, "What do you think? To kill us all!"
"I must lead my people into battle!" Jacob said, his eyes hardening at the prospect of a fight.
The people on the street began to point at the incoming aircraft to the north. Men shouted, women screamed. The sudden knowledge that the dark Military was coming for them began to panic the people of Hatfield.
"Hold a second, mate," Brick hit the comm, "Cordova, come in, over?"
Isabella's voice echoed through Brick's comlink, "This is Cordova, go ahead Brick."
"We've got incoming! Hatfield is under Olympus attack−repeat, Hatfield district is under Olympus attack!"
The shapes of the aircraft grew closer. No anti-aircraft fire from below was there to deter them anymore.
Olympus was coming to end the insurgency in one fell swoop.
The Hyperions' opened fire.
Hatfield began to burn.
* * *
"Joe, do you copy? Brick is reporting Hatfield is under full Olympus attack!" Isabella's voice came over the comm loud and clear.
Joseph Braddock was on his feet in an instant. He made his way up to the front of the aircraft and looked through the cockpit window. By his watch, they were now two minutes from the LZ. Sure enough, three kilometers ahead of them were the unmistakable shapes of Hyperion VTOLs, raining fire upon the rebel district.
Joe's mind raced. What should they do? Abort? Joe knew the Olympus aircraft had most likely caught them on radar by now. They couldn't risk an extract.
But they couldn't leave either.
He activated his comlink, "Brick, you and Krieger are going to have to get Miss Anders to safety yourselves."
"Joe, these people have no defense now against these aircraft! We'll be slaughtered before we can get to any of the other districts or out of the city!"
Joe swore violently. He had to buy some time. Try to take some pressure off the inhabitants down below.
"Tell this rebel leader to get his people to evacuate into the west district! We'll try and buy them some time!"
"The hell are you talking about 'buy them time'?" Brick didn't sound like he understood. Isabella looked back at Joe, obviously not understanding what her Staff Sergeant meant either.
"Rourke and I will try to draw their fire with the M134's."
"That's insane! No way!"
"That's an order Sergeant. Miss Anders is your responsibility now. Get her to safety!" Joe ended the comm call and tapped Isabella on the shoulder. "We're engaging those bastards! Get us in range, we'll lead as many of them as will follow into the downtown area and pick em off one by one!"
"Joe...there is no way we can outmaneuver one Hyperion, let alone twelve!"
"If we don't try something, those aircraft will wipe these people from the face of the earth. If we can take some of those Hyperions with us, maybe we can give the people that much more time to escape."
Isabella cast a sceptical look at her co-pilot, Angry Boy. The prospect of flying into an active combat hadn't been part of the mission parameters. Still, the kid knew what he'd signed up for. He nodded his approval to his superior. Isabella turned back to the controls, "Okay, just be ready. I'll try to give you firing lines, but we're not going to have much time before one of those things knocks us out of the sky!"
"Get on the horn with the Colonel and tell him we are aborting the mission." Joe moved back into the passenger area and pointed at Rourke. "You're on the starboard gun!"
The SEAL nodded, stood up and moved to the M134 minigun turret connected to the right side of the aircraft. Joe gripped the opposite turret, bracing himself tight so he wouldn't fall out in case the Black Hawk was forced to bank suddenly.
Joe set his teeth tight in his jaw.
As usual, everything in his world had turned upside down in less than a minute. He watched as the Black Hawk flew over the city edge. They were now over the Hatfield district and would be engaged any second.
It was do or die time.
* * *
THE INITIAL attack had gone off without a hitch. In the RIO seat of the lead Hyperion gunship, Titus watched the battle play out on his holographic display. His heart was racing; his blood was pumping.
This was what he had always imagined it would be.
Proving to the world the might of the Olympus PMC.
The pilot of Titus's aircraft hailed him on the comm. "Sir, we have an unknown contact due south, three kilometers."
Titus called up the appropriate system on his heads-up-display. The advanced scanning software ran an inspection protocol on the aircraft. It was a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk, the exact type used against Olympus back in Kazinistan. Heavily modified with refracting radar technology and sound dampening rotor blades.
It was Colonel Walsh's unit of heroes.
He had been right, after all. Their presence in Hatfield proved everything. They were obviously allied with the URAF rebels.
Now he could destroy the URAF leadership, as well as this upstart group of terrorists, all with one fell swoop.
"Hyperion's Alpha, Beta, and Delta−break off and pursue that helicopter. Destroy it at all costs!"
He would not underestimate this Unit as Commander Dante had.
* * *
"We've got incoming Joe! Tangos at three o'clock!"
Isabella slammed the Black Hawk into a full tilt rush towards the Olympus Hyperions. Banking sharply to the left, Joe had to hold on tight to stop himself from being thrown from the aircraft. That familiar, horrifying sound of the Olymp
us VTOLs filled the air above the besieged district. Smoke was rising from all areas of the slum, with massive fires raging from the blasts caused by the VTOL's high powered concussive weapons.
Joe knew there would be many dying or dead down there.
They needed to halt the killing, at least for the time being. If they could just get some of the VTOLs to follow them, the people below could have a chance at escaping to the east or south.
Behind him, on the alternate minigun turret, Rourke had sighted one of the approaching Hyperions. He opened fire with the six-barrel, air cooled gatling weapon−firing 3000 rounds per minute. One out of every three rounds in the 7.62 NATO ammunition the gatling's fired was a tracer round. This allowed the gunner to follow the arc of fire, which aided immeasurably in aiming.
A howl from the SEAL told Joe he'd been successful in his targeting. A second later, a massive explosion reverberated through the air. One of the Hyperion's hadn't been able to manuever out of the path of the relentless hail of gunfire.
One down, God knows how many more to go.
Joe's heart skipped a beat as he saw two more VTOLs fall in behind the Black Hawk.
"Isabella, we've got company!"
Without missing a beat, Isabella threw the aircraft into an evasive maneuver, dropping its altitude rapidly. Joe managed a quick glance towards the front of the bird. They were nearing the edge of the northern section of Hatfield and were about to enter the ruins of the downtown district. If they could get there, they would be able to use the buildings as cover.
"Joe, this is Brick, what's your situation, over?"
Joe hit the comm, yelling to be heard above the combat raging outside, "We're pulling along two of the VTOLs, heading into the downtown district!"
Whatever Brick said next was lost in a furious explosion of Hyperion weapons fire. The two trailing VTOLs were unloading on the helicopter pell-mell. Joe watched as the bursts of superheated concussive flame surged past the Black Hawk and lit up the ground below.
