by M C Drake
Hall nodded to Glen, "Give him a once over mate." Hall gave Bill a quick glance over, he was shaking from fear and adrenaline. "Get that door shut Billy, then give us a sitrep will you, you know what we are up against."
Billy gingerly closed the door, then shook his head as he walked over.
“No idea sir, we were ambushed by a huge group of soldiers wearing tough, full body black armor and full face helmets. It takes a lot of bullets to even put a single one of those freaks down.”
“You managed it then?” Hudson asked.
Johnson just nodded.
They sat and talked for a little while longer before Hall made the decision, “Ok clearly we aren’t going to get any of these vehicles to start, we are going to have to go on foot.”
"A group already tried that sir, those tanks they have, they gunned them down before they got to the perimeter fence." Johnson said with a weary tone.
“We don’t have a choice; we will just have to be more cautious.” Hall said.
"Right let's get to it, we ain't getting paid by the hour." Hall said with a smile on his face.
Groans rang out from his men, "The old ones are the best ain't they sir!" Hudson laughed.
Tour of Duty
The mess room was a hive of noise and activity; the navy personnel were tired but this did not impact on their jovial mood. They were finally on their way home after an extended tour, normally they would be flown home but The Americans were taking the opportunity to repair and replenish the massive aircraft carrier during the break in the bombing campaign.
They were hoping the peace negations in Paris were going to finally put an end to this war.
Brooklyn Jnr sat in the corner with his back slightly to his friends, and while they were having a great time playing cards, he sat sullenly re-reading a letter for the fifth or sixth time.
William Morris sighed, he threw his cards to the table. “I’m out of this one fella’s.”
This of course led to the usual calls of ‘pussy’ and ‘what’s a matter moose, lost your golden touch?”
Moose smiled, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards Jnr, “Look at him, somebody has got to do somethin’, the pining puppy is a massive downer.”
William Morgan Morris had been Brooklyn's radar operator since they were paired on their first day on the carrier. He was a bright lad from Bismarck, North Dakota. William's bright green eyes brought a sense of calm and level-headedness to proceedings; this balanced out Brooklyn Jnr's more aggressive, reckless streak.
Brooklyn Jnr had been in an almost melancholy depression since he had expressed his anger and disappointment to his girlfriend about the anti-war movement she had joined. The letter Pamela sent back basically said that she was free to do what she wanted, she believed that the war should have never happened and that she would have expected more support from her lover.
The letter finished with Pam saying that they should take a break from the relationship to see if she could forgive Brooklyn for his actions. The young man was devastated by this as he really thought he had found the one; he had dreams that they would marry and he could have the enjoyment that his mother and father had once had. He loved the stories his mom told him about his dad, with that sparkle in her eyes.
William Morris pulled up a chair next to his friend and partner; he dropped a glass of cool orange juice in front of him.
“Sorry, I can’t get you a beer until we reach the mainland!”
Brooklyn looked up but he barely reacted.
"Chin up mate, you are bringing the place down." Moose rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look mate, we have all had problems with women, mine is mainly getting em to like me."
Brooklyn tried to conceal a smile but failed.
“That’s better dude, you can’t do anything about it stuck on this tub, so no good pining, come have a laugh with your mates and when we get some much-needed shore leave, then go sort out the mess you made.”
Brooklyn Jnr gave Morris a playful shove, “You’re right ass jockey.” Brooklyn got up, “Deal me in the next game, time for me to win all ya money.”
They guys around the table cheered. “About time Jnr, no cheating this time though hey.”
They all laughed.
Brooklyn was still upset but the mixture of friendly banter and winning a few hands of blackjack did manage to lift his mood slightly.
Pamela was nearly five years younger than her man, but after several years of university under her belt, she had blossomed into a mature young woman. Pamela was born on the largest island of Hawai'i and had inherited the light brown completion of her mother.
At only just over five-foot-tall the young Hawaiian women was also a great deal shorter than Brooklyn Jnr however, this did not seem to affect the couple as their personalities just clicked. The young lady knew what she liked and her strong will only lite Brooklyn's passion even more.
Pamela usually let her lovely, curly, brown hair hang naturally around her shoulders, her dark brown eyes had flecks of yellow that sent out sparks to anyone who stared into them. She was a perfectly wrapped youthful package and this got her a lot of attention from other men.
She had been tempted on several occasions but she always remained faithful to her first love, even though they had been on opposite sides of the world.
The anti-war movement swept through the university community like an untamed wildfire and Pamela was washed away in the ideals of a free generation. She traveled the road on various protests marches and fell in with a group of people who experimented with marijuana. She was enjoying the freedom of expression that this movement gave her.
When Pamela expressed her new found freedom, views and friends to Brooklyn Jnr in her letter where she let Brooklyn know the war he was fighting in was illegal and that the US should be ashamed of their involvement. Pamela was shocked and angry at Brooklyn's fiery response and of his pride to be serving his Country.
This is when she had decided to take a break with Brooklyn Jnr and Pamela began touring the States and campaigning against what she thought was an unjust conflict.
Ground Zero
Explosions blossomed in all directions; the base shook under the strain. American troops had begun to flee in all directions; they were remorselessly mowed down in a burning firestorm of superheated projectiles.
The stricken Phantoms that were unable to leave the ground were destroyed in an instant by concentrated fire from the behemoth tanks that prowled through the hangers. The main communications room had been taken completely by surprise.
The men and women in the tower were now fighting for their lives; they had barricaded the doors with anything they could and were now crouched behind any shelter they had left, the guards had their rifles raised.
The door blew open with a terrible explosion that scattered shrapnel and debris in every direction, the soldiers had to dive behind cover. As they tried to regain their awareness a stream of glowing projectiles ripped into the room.
One of the guards bravely stood to give his colleagues some covering fire, the projectiles stopped for a second, which gave the other guard the chance to fire. He stood and pumped led down the narrow corridor.
The unknown enemy had clearly had enough of this as one of the huge tanks below the tower was given a new target. Its giant turret turned and the cannon elevated, a few seconds later the barrel glowed ghostly purple and it fired. The round tore through the huge glass windows of the control tower and detonated instantly vaporizing most of the people inside.
The few remaining survivors tried to surrender but the tank fired again and this time the roof collapsed, crushing everything inside. The troops moved onto their next targets with almost inhuman efficacy.
Warren Hall and his men crept out of the small personal door at the rear of the hanger; they carefully swept the area for hostiles.
“Clear.” Hudson whispered.
Then men moved on and skulked around the edge of the next hanger which had been half des
troyed by one of the massive tanks. The sound of fighting grew louder as they turned the corner. The cries and terrified screams soon accompanied the dwindling gunfire.
Suddenly a couple of soldiers rounded the corner, one of the men was limping badly and his face was contorted into a frightened grimace.
"Help us Sir, for the love of god hel…" the second man was cut off as the air around the two men erupted in a dazzling purple haze, the two men disappeared forever in this glowing fireball; seconds later the shockwave caught up with the explosion and knocked Hall and his men to the floor.
Hall shook his head to try and clear the ringing from his ears, his blurry vision quickly cleared as he was yanked to his feet. Hudson was next to him and pulled him into the smoked out shell of the hanger.
“Sir, sir are you alright?” Hudson shouted.
A small trickle of blood formed in Hall’s left ear. He quickly checked himself over before giving Hudson a thumbs up.
“Thank god.” The young Airman first class exhaled.
“What about the rest of the squad?” Hall asked.
“I dragged them all in here Sir, they are all ok.”
“We will make a soldier out of you yet Hudson!” Hall smiled before adding, “Thanks.”
Hudson nodded.
Another explosion filled the air close to their right.
“What shall we do now Sir, they seem to be everywhere, we are never going to get passed them.” Tom Cox said panting.
Hall sighed
“What?” Cox asked.
“You’re not gonna like this boys but we are gonna make our stand here, draw the fuckers in and give Hudson here a window to get out.”
Hudson was going to protest but was cut off as Hall raised his hand.
"No arguments this time kid, you have the constitution to get out of here, you have proved that and we need to get the message out. We can't let these bastards get a bridgehead here."
The men looked at each other with glum expressions but none of them objected.
"Good it's settled then, Hudson you wait for our signal. The rest of you split into teams of two, I want you to run to cover while your teammates lay down suppressing fire. We need to keep moving otherwise they will just overwhelm our position.”
The men did as Hall asked. “Good, Hudson when we have grabbed their attention that is your signal to run for it. It’s all on you now son.” Hall placed his hand on Hudson’s shoulder.
There were still pockets of resistance all over the base but the American forces had taken a lot of casualties while the unknown aggressors had taken hardly any.
Hall and the first group of men broke out into the open and roared an aggressive battle cry as they went. Their teammates opened fire to give them cover, while Hall himself fired his machine gun on the move.
It had the desired effect as the army of black armor glad figures advanced on the small moving team of US soldiers. Hall and the first group dived into cover behind the collapsed wall of hanger 14. They immediately set up to give the second team covering fire, the second team moved as quickly as they could, they did not dare look behind them as the sprinted to their new position,
Hudson watched and waited in his small hiding spot, he watched as a group of enemy jogged passed his position and opened up on his colleagues. Purple and pink rounds flashed down on his friends with hellish accuracy. Two of the monster tanks rumbled passed and lined up on the limited cover that hanger 14 was providing.
Glen ‘Straight A' Owens, so called because he had an impressive degree in engineering let out a smile as he teammates ran into cover next to him. He stood and popped out three smoke grenades to cover their retreat.
“Where did you nick those from?” Alan Perry asked.
Owens just tapped the end of his nose, “That would ruin the magic Perry.”
“Ass!” Perry replied with a tense smile.
Hall had seen the smoke, “Let’s keep moving boys, don’t give those bastard tanks a chance to target us.”
They all sprinted as one in a long spread outline to make them harder to hit.
Hudson saw his opportunity and he took it, the young man ran as hard as he could from cover to cover, he looked over his shoulder as the tanks fired.
The glowing rounds cut through the thick smoke leaving as spiral trail and impacted where Hall and his men had been a few seconds earlier. The gun on top of the tank's turret fired and a trial of superheated energy that sprayed all over the area.
Hall and his team managed to make it to a maintenance hangar, they paused for breath as they set up their defensive perimeter. Master Sergeant Jim Miller looked around the large hanger.
“I have some bad news Hall.”
"Great what is it now?"" Hall replied with a deadpan smile.
“There is no exit at the back of this hanger, we’re trapped but I have some good news, there are a few .50 cal machine guns in here and a couple of racks off sidewinder missiles for the Phantoms.”
“What good are the missiles, all the electronics are fried.”
We could toss them at them.” Cox added dryly.
Owens snapped his fingers, “If I can get the ignitions to light we could get the missiles to fly but they won’t have any guidance systems, so they would be out of control.”
“Do it.” Hall said without a second thought, “We are running out of options, make this our last stand boys.”
Hudson dived under the wreckage of an F4 Phantom as he narrowly avoided another group of enemy soldiers. ‘Christ, they're everywhere.' He thought to himself. Hudson decided to stay under the crippled plane for a second to take in the situation. He could see the
perimeter fence from where he was and he watched as an airman ran from cover and launched himself up the fence.
A flash of strong purple light leaped forward and penetrated the man's head, it punctured straight through and exploded on the other side, the man’s body landed in a crumpled heap at the foot of the fence.
“Shit, shit shit… of course they would have snipers watching the fence. What do I do now?” Hudson said to himself. He did not have to think for long as a shiny pair of black boots appeared just beside him.
The figure bent down, "What do we have here, a cockroach?" The man said in a strong German accent. Hudson went to raise his pistol but it was too late, the man fired his sidearm and the bright purple round burnt through Hudson's skull, he felt a brief spike of pain before his young life ended.
A monster returns
Smoke drifted lazily passed, the area was eerily quiet for what felt an eternity. Sweat dripped down Warren Hall's dirty, furrowed brow. Tom Cox's arm shook slightly due to the mixture of fear and adrenaline rushing through his body. Jim Miller's eyes darted from left to right while his finger twitched nervously over the .50 cal Browning machine guns' trigger.
A dark shadow flashed across in the moonlit night but in a second it disappeared.
“Hold your fire.” Hall whispered.
Bright purple pulses of superheated light swarmed forward like a mass of deadly fireflies into the open hanger, they peppered the cover the men were hiding behind. The two .50 cals opened up with the comforting thump that accompanied their powerful rounds. Red tracer tore through the open space and sliced into the smoke.
The energetic purple fire continued but was momentarily less accurate, this gave Hall and his men the chance to lift their heads up from cover and get some suppressing fire laid down. The armor clad figures did not take long to regain their accuracy and a heavy hail of fire rained in on the US airmen.
The unknown enemy advanced and tried to rush through the entrance, Hall smirked as he threw three smoke grenades into the onrushing troops, they detonated and a thick smoke quickly coated the area.
“Give them everything we've got boys!”
The Americans guns chattered and bellowed as they opened up all at once, the smoke-filled area was peppered with bullets. The .50 calibers struck the leading soldier in the chest, the armor splintered and
blood bubbled from the open wound; his fellow soldiers dove to the floor with lightning quick reactions and avoided the stream of bullets.
“I'm out!” Perry shouted.
“Heads up.” Hall replied as he chucked a fresh magazine in Perry's direction.
'Reloading!” Miller shouted and he quickly got to work reloading the .50 caliber.
“Cover Miller, we need the .50 up and quickly.”
The smoke started to thin so Hall threw his last two smoke grenades and then laid down another burst of fire.
The purple projectiles started to slow then stopped abruptly.
“What's goin on?”
“Maybe they have given up.” Cox said with a nervous chuckle.
“Unlikely.” Hall said, “Keep your wits about you lads!”
“.50's backup!” Miller shouted.
The smoke began to clear again and to the Americans surprise there was not a single casualty to be seen anywhere.
“How did we miss them all?” Cox cried.
The deadly purple fire started again suddenly, although not as aggressively as before.
Hall dove to the floor as a sniper round crackled just over his head.
“Fuck, that was close.” He mumbled.
“Owens how are those missiles coming along?” Hall asked.
Owens shook his head, “I can’t get the fucking things to ignite!”
“Get them ready as quick as you can, we are running out of options.”
Hall popped up and fired a strong burst which slowed the enemies advance, they jumped into cover. They fired blindly from their secure position.
More and more purple fire rained in, Hall continued to return fire until his rifle clicked empty, he effortlessly slid in the next magazine but he felt a terrible burning pain in his left bicep, he slumped to the floor behind cover and gingerly checked the wound, a disgusting burning smell drifted into his nose.
"Hall's down, Cox get over there and see what you can do, Perry me and you will cover him!" Master Sergeant Miller ordered.
