His chest heaving, he glanced round, the shadows of two of his men nodding a greeting from their slumped corner positions beneath shattered windows, glinting glass fragments scattered across the scorched and heavily scratched floorboards. Swallowing hard, the officer wiped spittle from his mouth, wincing as pain swept through his chest, a cloud of exhaled air engulfing his features. He shook his head in an attempt to gain clarity, staring at the night sky through the open windows, the glows from fires burning in the flat blocks around them casting shadows across the smeared walls.
Slumping backwards, he reached for his automatic rifle, gritting his teeth as he heaved himself into a more comfortable position, his voice a low hiss, ‘Any movement? How long was I asleep for?’
The older soldier lifted himself slightly, glancing out through the shattered window above before grunting, his grime smeared uniformed body lowering once more, ‘About two hours, captain. There has been nothing…some fighting to the west and east…several explosions and that damn shrieking…’ He wearily slipped the helmet from his head, rubbing matted hair as dust showered his shoulders, ‘One of the blocks collapsed at the edge of the estate…some of our men would have been inside. There was a low rumble first…I think they blew up the foundations when the creatures broke into the ground floor.’ The soldiers shrugged, ‘The air was full of dust for about an hour…we couldn’t see anything so were worried the enemy were going to attack…no one came.’
Medvedev struggled upwards, glass cracking beneath his boots as he pushed himself to a crouch, lifting the rifle across his chest, ‘I will go and have a look downstairs with the others…what’s left of them. Have we still got two snipers on the roof?
The other soldier coughed, the cold air filtering through the window heavy with dust as he grinned, ‘There is a better view from the roof…they have some bread and stew too…we found it in one of the apartments. There is plenty of tinned food downstairs, two of the men gathered it during the day…’ The younger man sighed, dirt smeared across his face as he ran a hand across a stubbled chin, ‘There are no rations coming up and we have lost radio contact with command again…I think the enemy are jamming us.’ He shrugged despondently, ‘We have no situation reports…but there is enemy fire to the south on either side…unless we move soon, they will cut us off.’
Medvedev gritted his teeth as he slipped towards the door hanging from its hinges, broken chairs, pictures and ornaments laying in the hallway outside, ‘We probably have six hours of darkness left to move in…I will try and organise a route out if there is one, I should be able to see one from the roof.’ He swallowed nervously, ‘But we can’t take all the units in the neighbouring blocks with us…the enemy will overrun and slaughter the men if they find out.’ He turned at the doorway, his expression grim, ‘I think they have deliberately passed by this estate…left us here to rot…it’s just too quiet. They must know there are soldiers hiding up in these blocks…they are just waiting for us to try and escape. If these monsters catch us in the streets, they will tear us to pieces like they did the others.’
As the officer slipped from the room, glass fragments crunching under his boots, the older soldier smirking at the younger, whispering, ‘We have scavenged tinned food and are storing it in one apartment…the enemy is preserving their own food supply in an entire housing estate…us.’
The Ukraine
The Barrett high powered sniper rifles moved slowly from side to side through the darkness, several with thermal sights, the others infra-red, searching through the trees and buildings ahead. The mixed unit had moved up from further south, their young ambitious commander, Major Johann Kelb, staring through enhanced binoculars into the darkness, the ground selected as a perfect defensive position facing the expected advance of a new enemy. His men were equipped with multi-coloured camouflage uniforms and smocks, Trevakian designed and newly deployed armoured plates adorning their shoulders.
Commander of a German Special Forces unit, they had parachuted into the southern Pripyet Marsh area earlier that day, the unit of nearly two hundred men supplemented with veterans from Poland, Romania and Hungary…the Italian and Greek units still to arrive and currently airborne over the Balkans. Ukrainian regular troops were dug into the hillside before his men along with two British observers, the cunning officer estimating the enemy would take at least two hours to reach their positions, fleeing and retreating regular units providing unconventional updates and potential intelligence as they passed. The officer had arranged for interception patrols behind the prepared positions to reorganise the defeated militia and Ukrainian regular army, the demoralised units having been thrown piecemeal against a superior and merciless foe.
Behind the defensive positions, the town streets of Dityatki and Ivankiv to the south and south west were clogged with fleeing refugees, residents of smaller villages and farmsteads moving south to avoid the brutal and merciless invaders. Rumours were rife, news of the destruction of Moscow stunning an already terrified population, a realisation that the might of Russian military strength was in question. The broadcasts spreading further panic as news of invasions from further afield were broadcast through short wave battery operated radios, the mobile phone networks now little more than useless as the debris of destroyed satellites orbited the stricken planet.
At thirty five, the charismatic Major Kelb had experienced numerous covert actions across the globe, usually concealed under the banner of the United Nations or European Union peacekeeping missions, his exploits rarely peaceful or restrained. The black haired and slim, brusque and often direct commander was renowned for efficiency and a deep care for subordinates, regularly attending and participating in the rigorous training schedules across several countries. The loyalty he received in return was unquestionable, a high number of his men gaining promotion and progressing to lead their own squads.
Lowering the glasses, he turned to his second in command, the younger blond haired man a loyal companion and trusted friend. Kelb cleared his throat, glancing across the crudely created images on electronic tablets before them, two of his men having interrogated the fleeing soldiers for pictures of the enemy. Drawing breath, he indicated to one of the images, ‘Have the snipers target them here and here as they emerge…’ His outstretched finger swept to the next image, ‘These high profile armoured units are more challenging…we target their drivers and wait for the others to activate the traps. I will call in artillery and then the engineers will move up only once their infantry has been isolated and turned back in disorder…we pursue them with the few aircraft available.’
The man next to him bowed his head in understanding, nodding, ‘Jawohl, Herr Major…I will have the men briefed.’
Kelb raised his hand, indicating there was more, his jaw stiffening in determination, ‘No soldier is to leave his position unless designated to protect the engineers…once we have isolated their armour it will be destroyed as their infantry are decimated behind…then the Ukrainian tanks and APCs will advance. A victory is needed to turn the tide and provide hope…these Morgons need to taste ultimate and devastating defeat.’ The officer stiffened resolutely, ‘There are no reports of their aerial fighters in this area as yet…we will strike them hard and offer no mercy…kill their wounded and any of them that attempt to surrender…’ The major grinned ironically, ‘Even though we have been told they never give up…this night they will.’
The commander raised his glasses once more, his eyes straining as he stared through the lenses into the distance, his voice lowering, ‘Better brief them quickly…we will have company very soon.’
Time is shortening: Northern Russia
Juri Medvedev’s eyes strained in the intense cold as he pushed through the small door, the flat roof coated in a heavy layer of dusted snow, fragments of debris and broken brick scattered across the shattered upper storey, two of the other emergency exit rooms half destroyed from stray shells and the heavy fighting. Edging forward, the young commander glanced across the other rooftops
nearby, one square block slightly higher in the distance, the building he was on rectangular along with most of the surrounding buildings.
Clouds of dense acrid smoke suddenly billowed across the rooftop, the officer’s head ducking as smouldering embers swirled in the rising heat, several apartments burning fiercely below across the estate. Raising a hand before his face as protection, he stepped further, tightening his grip on the automatic rifle as he heard the hissed warning before him, ‘Stay low…something is going on…’
Emerging from the acrid cloud, he exhaled heavily, glimpsing the prone soldier through bloodshot eyes, the man laying behind a shattered fire escape, his arm waving frantically for the officer to get down. Medvedev dropped instinctively to his hands and knees, noticing the other sniper at the opposite corner of the roof, the man staring into the distance through his rifle scope.
His eyes widened as he slowly looked round, flames seeping from several of the apartments on the higher square blocks, the darkened hulks of tall buildings obscuring any distant view to the east and west. The city skyline glowed brightly in the distance to the north, muffled gunfire and explosions seeming to surround the blocks, the commander’s eyes narrowing as he considered the fighting to be only a couple of streets away. Then a billowing fireball in the distance, a rumble shortly afterwards followed by another, Russian long range artillery firing into the city from the far south.
His body stiffened as several closer shots rang out, the muzzle flashes from the taller building and another further north, his eyes straining as he briefly glimpsed a shadow on the higher roof waving frantically. Then a gasp from before him, the sniper turning in adrenalin fuelled excitement, ‘Flashing lights between some of the buildings…I think the enemy are moving up…’
Two muffled explosions ahead, then another…the sniper hissing further as a distant shriek of anger reached their ears, ‘They have reached the trip wires…there are others…’ Further muffled crumps and another shriek as gunfire erupted, Morgon forward units having tripped hidden mines, a firefight commencing on the outskirts of the residential estate.
Then heavier gunfire, louder explosions as Morgon rockets began to impact on the outer block, flashes erupting as the detonations spread across the block frontage, the remnants of a Russian infantry company desperately returning fire. Smoke and dust billowed upwards, obscuring the tall apartments, distant shouts and gunfire resounding further.
A jolt of nervous energy shot up Medvedev’s spine, bright lights suddenly surging upwards further north and into the night sky ahead, his head lowering as the roar of engines swept towards them, the twin lights from three large Morgon armoured hunter drones sweeping across and between the darkened buildings.
A flash of light as a rocket swept from one of the vessels, the missile burning brightly before smacking into the tallest building, the structure seeming to visibly shake as flames erupted across the frontage, searing through corridors and apartments, a large flaming acrid smoke and debris cloud billowing into the cold night sky. The lights moved in the sky, panning across several other buildings and rooftops, the Morgons scanning the blocks for signs of life.
Further dust poured and billowed from the rooftops and balconies, the intense downdraft from the drone engines obscuring visibility almost completely as the defenders shielded their eyes and darted for cover. Acid shells smacked against the building fronts, several onto the rooftops as the Morgon craft swept forward, heavy machine guns pouring fire onto and into the buildings below, the flashes illuminating the officer and his men’s faces through the haze.
Shouts of panic as the snipers darted from their positions, Medvedev’s shoulders grabbed roughly as he attempted to rise and dragged forcibly towards a low shattered building, one of the snipers shouting breathlessly into his ear, ‘The lift machine room…we checked it earlier, it has reinforced walls…they won’t be able to see us with their scanners…’
Detonations and explosions echoed behind them, the three men crashing into the small single storey room and dropping to the dirt coated floor, machine gun bullets clanking and smashing against the asphalt roof outside. Scrambling to either side, spotlights swept through the open door, shadows of the lift machinery swirling across the wall opposite as they thrust their backs against the reinforced section, coughing and spluttering in the thick dust.
Medvedev could hear muffled screams, the clanking of bullets hitting the craft above as several soldiers returned fire in desperation. Dust, frosted snow and rubbish swirled through the shattered doorway, the downdraft disrupting the Morgon mission through the ensuing dirt clouds as pin lights surged in intensity, attempting to break through the churning mass.
Then the craft were gone, surging southwards to select easier targets, the gunfire increasing outside as Captain Medvedev pushed himself upwards, swearing as the three men wheezed and coughed, his voice barely audible, ‘We need to move south…the animals are coming!’
He thrust himself through the doorway, gasping for air as he glimpsed the burning high building through the haze, pulling a dirt caked scarf from around his neck up over his nose and mouth. Several flashes as other shells smacked against the high storeys, one of the sentries following his commander out into the cold night air, his eyes following the flashing lights in the sky further southwards, ‘We will have to move quickly sir…’ His voice trailed off as he looked back at the dirt coated captain, seeing the man stare silently upwards as he took a step towards him.
The soldier’s eyes narrowed, shaking his head as he drew level and realised the commander was staring into the night sky, his vision following his as he hissed, ‘What is it sir?’
The officer’s hand rose, pointing upwards, his voice trembling, ‘The half-moon…it’s distorted…there is something in front if it…’ He gasped in sudden realisation, ‘It’s a ship…my god...it must be vast!’
The Ukraine: A Strategy Lost
Branches cracked and fell, the ground shuddering as dripping heavy mechanical legs thrust through the undergrowth, the Morgon walkers advancing through trees and brush, black and camouflaged armoured infantry walking on either side, their automatic weapons held across chests, bloodied two bladed swords across their backs. Red glowing helmeted eyes turned from side to side, studying the thick terrain as water laden ferns and bushes were pushed back, the sensors seeking human flesh for disembowelling mutilation and consumption.
Behind them, a bloodied rampage was evident, torn decapitated bodies and shattered equipment alongside the smouldering steel carcasses of APCs and tanks littering the blood splashed narrow roads and side fields, the Ukrainian defence forces mercilessly ambushed as they advanced north towards Chernobyl.
Major Kelb licked his lips in anticipation, smiling grimly as he lowered the high powered binoculars, nervous energy sweeping up his spine after glimpsing the shaking of trees in the distance, glimmers of body heat seeping through dense armoured plate as the Morgons advanced. He stared down the steep slope as the last uniformed survivors of Ukrainian army units desperately ran past in disorder and fear, many without their discarded weapons in a frantic haste to escape, then officer biting his lower lip as he considered the horror the fleeing soldiers had experienced.
Raising the glasses to his eyes once more, he grimaced, seeing the walkers progress further, the binoculars lowering briefly as he glanced to either side, his breath held as he saw the snipers’ eyes lower to their scopes as instructed.
Raising the binoculars once more, he drew a sharp breath, seeing the numerous figures emerge between the high walkers, his heart rate rising as even more trudged out behind, a hand rising to his earpiece, the microphone beneath his chin lifting as he twisted the speaker in his ear, whispering to almost eighty snipers and their spotters, ‘Wait for them to stumble through the traps and onto mines, then open fire…target their automated drivers and any officers…’
Major Kelb’s eyes narrowed, watching the darkened figures slowly progress across a field, hearing the distant mechanical whi
rring and clumps of the walkers, glimpsing brief indications of body heat beneath thick armour, the heads seeming to glow more as they moved from side to side, the field gradually filling with red sparkling eyes.
Kelb’s adrenalin soared, his breath held as the forward line of darkened camouflaged and black armour neared the first line of tripwires and mines, the specialist and adapted sniper rifles of high calibre and equipped with armour piercing explosive bullets, the tips of the ammunition slightly snubbed to maximise damage.
Then a flash from the far right, black armoured figures staggering around the ones that fell, two thrown into the air from the explosion. More crumps, the intense flashes lighting up the field as shrieks of anger and hatred resounded, phosphorus and fragmentation mines detonating amongst the Morgon forward soldiers. The sniper rifles belched and bucked, the gunners dragging the bolts on their weapons back frantically, the second bullet of the magazines slipping into barrels and before firing pins as eyes lowered resolutely to scopes once more. Spotters hissed the next potential victim, straining their eyes through infra-red binoculars as they pointed, their voices rising with pre-trained directions and any individual characteristics they could determine for recognition purposes.
Further explosions and detonations occurred, flashes spreading and illuminating across the darkness as tripped flares swept upwards, the intense white lights pulsing as silhouettes were illuminated, several staggering as Kelb grinned in relish. Sporadic fire erupted from the Morgon line, the forward soldiers firing blindly as several fell, their armoured helmets finally penetrated by the high calibre bullets.
Major Kelb pushed himself upwards and darted along the defensive line, the rifles bucking as his shouts echoed across his highly trained unit, ‘Bring them down! I want your percentages high (Kelb’s ultimate motivation for headshots amongst his snipers and riflemen)!’
Another energised shout from his subordinate nearby, the man’s binoculars to his eyes, ‘First section…walkers incoming, target their drivers or hydraulics…kill them all!’
Planet Genocide II: Galaxies Collide 5: Onslaught Page 6
