by M C Drake
Nine massive guns bellowed as the USS New Jersey fired yet another salvo. The crew knew they were the only ones realistically holding back the enemies attack in this sector of the city; unfortunately, they were now attracting more and more unwanted attention.
“Enemy air to the North.”
“Roger that, incoming, incoming.”
Four balls of superheated light rushed towards the battleship as the ME 262s strafed the vessel. Out of nowhere four Huey’s flew straight into the plasma balls; they were instantly vaporized.
There was stunned silence on the deck of the ship as the crew watched their comrades sacrifice.
The four ME 262s then opened up with long streams of purple plasma fire but they were intercepted by a large squadron of Phantoms who managed to quickly overwhelm them with sheer numbers of five to one.
The American’s right flank collapsed at Stanton Park just after midday when a great formation of super heavy tanks smashed their way through a group of M48 Pattons. The Maus tanks ignored the supporting infantry and continued to take out as much armor as they could find.
Deep under the White House the remaining American leadership group sent as much armor as they could to plug the gap. A mixed battalion of the latest M60 main battles tanks rubbed shoulders with the obsolete M4 Sherman medium tanks that had been rushed back into service to swell the American's numbers; they were completely outclassed though.
The smoke filled sky darkened and the downpour started soon after which put out many of the fires in the burning streets. The fighter jets still continued to engage each other but the Aryans advanced targeting systems were much more effective in this weather.
The strong tide was turning into a tsunami and the Americans were in danger of getting washed away.
Operation Menu
The deluge continued to buffet the battle scared streets of Washington DC. Heavy raindrops bounced off the M60A1's thick hull. The main battle tanks maneuvered quickly through the streets. Commander Michael Orton led the massive, swift counter-attack against the Aryan tanks who had broken through Stanton Park.
The forty-five-year-old, dark-haired Orton had his orders. The Aryan forces had to be stopped before they reached the iconic Capital building. Orton commanded sixty of the best tanks the US had manufactured to date and he was supported by thirty M48 Pattons and finally, was reinforced with twenty Sherman medium tanks.
Artillery based around Capitol Hill had just finished softening up the area along Massachusetts Avenue and the adjoining streets leading from Stanton Park. They had left once choke point along Maryland Avenue NE. This was where the assault force would make their stand.
Overhead the growl of Phantom engines echoed across the rooftops. Five of the fighters hurtled passed low on their attack run. Their targets were the super heavy Maus tanks that had just rolled onto Maryland Avenue.
The Phantoms released their payloads over the targets and then bugged out quickly. The general purpose bombs exploded across the advancing Aryan tanks covering them in a thick cloud of black smoke. The Maus appeared through the explosion unharmed apart from a small black smear across the large turret.
Commander Orton watched through his binoculars, he was not pleased with what he saw. The middle-aged man sighed as he slicked his soaking wet hair back before he slid back inside his tank.
The bulk of the M60A1 tanks were hidden behind the buildings on Constitution Ave NE. They waited for their signal to attack. Thirty seconds passed until the signal arrived.
A formation of Huey helicopters zoomed overhead and began their attack. The Huey's went in one by one in a long strafing line, firing missiles as they went. The missiles struck the side of the Maus tanks causing their tracks to be broken clean off.
The huge turrets tracked their targets and the smaller anti aircraft cannon fired purple flashes into the sky. Several of the rounds hit their marks and Huey's fell to the ground.
“Starters group attack now, green light.” Orton bellowed across the radio.
Engines rumbled as the main battle tanks moved into life. They drove straight through the buildings like they were nothing, bricks and tiles from the roof flew in all directions. The M60A1 aimed in on their targets. The 105mm M68 guns thundered armor piercing rounds onto the enemy.
Commander Orton watched the results with annoyance, most of the rounds bounced off the heavily armored hulls of the Aryan tanks.
“They have got to have a weakness. Fire at the lower glacis.” He ordered.
The next volley was just as ineffective as the first.
“Damn it. Ok close in on them, we can't let them get any closer than this.”
The M60A1 started to close the distance on the immobilized targets. They fired on the move but penetrating the front of the monster seemed like an impossible task.
A clap of thunder sounded in the distance followed by another and another. The sky darkened even further as if a huge storm was on the way; the rain continued to drench the city. The Phantom pilots who had experienced this before and survived to tell the tale had requested to return to base.
The sky exploded suddenly in a brilliant shower of electricity as an elongated bolt of lightning zigzagged a path across the horizon. A large clap of thunder sounded off and the echoes bounced from building to building.
The Americans had witnessed this before and knew what was coming; all of the air support in the area turned towards the Ronald Reagan international airport to shelter from the coming assault. The Cobra attack helicopters were the only ones who continued the fight as they believed they could avoid the anti aircraft batteries if they stay close to the ground.
A squadron of Phantoms were engaging a group of ME 262's just below the cloud base and had not received the order to return to base. The lead F4 and his wingman tumbled towards the diving ME 262; they American pilots twisted and rolled to keep in a firing position.
An American fighter streaked across their path, a few hundred feet in front and was quickly pursued by an enemy fighter. A stream of plasma spewed out from the pursuing ME 262 and the Phantom was hit in the starboard engine.
The Phantom pilot put his machine into a steep dive and plummeted earthward but he was unable to shake the much more agile ME 262. The pilot was desperate now and in his panic did not pull out the dive in time; the phantom disappeared in a large ball of fire as it struck the ground.
As the squadron leader watched over his shoulder he shook his head briefly before switching his full attention back to the target in front. After a few seconds he heard the grumble through his earpieces as the Sidewinder missile locked on.
The more experienced pilot waited a few seconds before squeezing the trigger, the missiles motor ignited and the missile launched forward and immediately went into a rightward spiral.
The pilot cursed under his breath and as he was about to pull the trigger again he watched as the missile corkscrewed back on course, straight down the tail of the ME 262. The Aryan pilot was surprised and before he had time to maneuver his aircraft the missile hit home.
The phantoms crew celebrated as the burning wreck of the ME 262 spiraled earthwards and struck a building below. They could see no chute so the pilot was unlikely to have bailed out.
Another brighter flash of pure blue lightning spread across the sky, it reached outwards with wide fingers and crept towards the Phantoms. Suddenly the ME 262's disengaged with their American counterparts.
"What the hell is going on?" The flight leader shouted as the streak of lightning flashed passed his canopy. The Phantoms spotted an opportunity to get on the tails of their enemies and they were not willing to pass it up.
The F4 pilots were trained to be aggressive and take the initiative in battles and this instinct kicked in. In pairs the Phantoms pushed to get in behind the idling ME 262's; the American pilots got into a near perfect firing position.
The flight leaders Phantom was obliterated in an instant.
“Shit Los had gone, disengage...” the radio was cut off
as a ball of superheated plasma washed over the second Phantom.
The rest of the Squadron bugged out in different directions but it was too late the trap was already set, and more and more orbs raced towards them. The youngest of the pilots rolled desperately and then dived.
“You haven't lost it Cherry?” His radar operator shouted. “Shit did you see that?”
A ball of plasma was on a direct collision course with a ME 262 but at the last second the orb seemed to move quickly to the left and avoid its friendly.
“That isn't possible.” Cherry's wingman kept repeating as the orbs quickly gained on their Phantom.
"Eject Bill, Eject." Cherry pleaded. He pulled the ejection handle seconds before the plasma impacted onto his plane. Cherry and his wingman had managed to avoid the deadly blast but the intense heat still washed over them and they both passed out before their parachutes had opened.
All across the sky the lightning spread further and further, it stalked a group of Cobras as they started their attack run over the tops of low buildings. Bricks fell as the lightning smashed into the sides of houses.
The Cobras were hit by the burning lightning just before they could fire on the tanks below them. The flaming fuselages of the attack helicopters tumbled into the area below; none of the squadron survived.
Commander Orton's main battle tanks pressed on with the assault but their rounds still bounced off the front of the super heavy tanks. One of the immobilized Maus tanks turret lined up and fired, a blinding flash of purple enveloped the area as a M60A1 was swallowed in a purple supernova.
"Keep the pressure up." Orton roared as the gunner fired. The round flew forward and struck the Maus just below its anti aircraft cannon; it was a lucky shot and the Maus went up in flames before exploding completely in a dazzling shower of violet.
“Woah, nice one commander.”
"All armored groups, aim for the anti-aircraft cannon that maybe their only weak spot." Orton growled, this was no time to celebrate a minor victory.
The battle around the Pentagon intensified as more and more Aryan armor was thrown into the fight. The Maus tanks were joined by the Tiger I's and by a fast moving medium tank that looked like the world war two Panther but with a long gun.
The tanks did not fire on the Pentagon building itself but continued to take shots at retreating units.
“Why are they not firing on us yet Sir? We are getting free shots on them, it doesn't make any sense.”
“No idea but just keep them where they are, they can't be allowed to get any closer to the airport.”
A series of large booms rang out as the USS New Jersey fired another few salvos into a group of advancing Tiger tanks, all but one was completely knocked out as the powerful battleship stopped attack after attack.
Unfortunately for the American's the air support protecting the New Jersey had been forced out of the fight. A swarm of ME 262's dove out of the low cloud base at a near vertical angle to the ship. The USS New Jersey's anti aircraft guns could not track their targets properly.
The first plasma round fell from the stooping ME 262 and was quickly followed by five more rounds. They impacted on the stern of the New Jersey and exploded instantly. Crewmen in the vicinity were vaporized while others who were a greater distance away from the impact sites were badly burnt.
The battleship continued to provide covering fire on the advancing tanks while simultaneously fighting its own fires. The Me 262's continued their dives and let out wave after wave of plasma as they strafed their target.
At the last possible moment, the Aryan fighters pulled out of the dive and sped away, low across the river before climbing into the cloud base again. Another wave of fighters appeared from the North and began their attack run unopposed.
The USS New Jersey took another four plasma rounds to the stern of the vessel, the last one smashed into an ammo store and a huge fireball engulfed the rear of the great battleship. Crew that were not killed instantly were thrown into the icy water where oil burned on the surface.
The rear guns of the New Jersey fell silent but the battleship continued to fire from the remaining working guns. The men in black watched silently from the situation room in the White House, they knew if the New Jersey went down then the slim hope of victory would be completely extinguished.
General Westmoreland watched on in desperation at the events unfolding in front of him, he ordered the Phantoms to re-engage to try and take the heat off of the New Jersey but it was all in vain as the electrified atmosphere was playing havoc with communications.
Without warning the ME 262's stopped attacking and fled from the area, simultaneously the armored group that had been advancing on the Pentagon began falling back.
The marines inside the landmark could not believe what they were seeing.
“Are they falling back?”
“Hell yeah I reckon we scared the living shit out of them!”
“Yeah have some of this you cowards.” a private shouted as he fired his M16 aimlessly out of the window.
“Cease fire you idiot!” Sergeant Peter-Smith shouted “Stop wasting ammo. They aren't retreating, it wouldn’t make any sense for them to do that, which means they must be planning something else. Something worse.”
A whooshing sound came from the East of the burning city, it was quiet to begin with but it grew louder in intensity until the sky was filled with trails of brilliant purple that flew high into the sky. As the rose they burned off the layers of cloud in front of them.
The purple lights hung in the early evening sky for what seemed an eternity before they fell towards the ground. As they fell the lights grew larger and larger.
“Shit.” Sergeant Peter-Smith screamed. “Hit the deck, now.” He flung himself to floor.
Seconds later the inevitable impact took place, the water around turned to steam as the intense heat evaporated it. The Bow of the vessel was gone and the middle vaporized completely after, there was no explosion but a large section of the river where the USS New Jersey had been moored was now ablaze with huge purple flames.
A second volley of plasma artillery flew high into the air and then fell towards the helpless targets, this time the Marines in the Pentagon bore the full wrath of the fire. The women volunteers on the roof were completely exposed and stood no chance.
The Marines barely had time to scream as the Pentagon was turned into a pile of scorched rubble. Now their Eastern flank was unprotected apart from a small group of cut off American infantry. The Ronald Reagan international airport was under severe threat.
As the last of the daylight started to fade the Aryans were ready to begin the main offensive. Armored units started to pour into the city and for the first time infantry units were there to support them.
American commanders knew the desperate situation they were in and as each one of them surveyed their respective army groups, they could see the fear and the battle strain on the faces of the men and women that cowered before them. Here volunteers and armed forces personnel stood side by side.
The commanders repeated the orders that there would be no retreat and they would fight where they stood, not because these were their orders, or because the chain of command said so but because they were fighting for their freedom.
There was not to be even one step back.
Freedom
The streets were filled with the sound of intense fighting. Troops from the Aryan first infantry division filtered in passed the burning wrecks of Patton tanks. They moved quickly but they still managed to fire accurately.
Plasma rounds spewed out in all directions as they pinned down a group of American soldiers that were holding the corner building. The return fire danced to the tune of M16 rounds, the rounds that hit their mark only bounced off the tough Aryan body armor; the Americans began to lose their nerve and some of them started to run.
The Aryan soldiers shot them in the back and mowed them down where they stood.
A deafening clap of thunder rang out
above as the lightning continued to claim the sky. The situation was desperate for the units defending the Ronald Reagan international airport. The Phantoms had returned to base and quickly refueled and rearmed.
The pilots were stuck in between a rock and a hard place but they decided they would rather take their chance in the air then be picked off on the ground. One after another the powerful engines roared into life and the jets sped down the runway.
Commander Orton’s tanks fought onwards as they advanced on the immobilized Maus tanks. The volume of fire was coordinated on the first Aryan tank but the rounds continued to bounce off the reinforced hull.
“Fire.” Orton ordered again and again as the M60 main battle tanks advanced. Orton was going to win his battle with determination alone. The Maus turret tracked his tank and the barrel of the huge canon glowed with a menacing tone of violet.
Just as the Maus went to fire it exploded in a shower of purple sparks, a F4 phantom pulled up at the last minute and its engines powered up so that it could return for another attack run.
The communication system was still in disarray so the ground troops could not thank their friend but boy were they glad to see the air support return. The tanks pressed on the attack. The main battle tanks were now supported by the M48 medium Patton’s as they had pushed forward on the left flank.
The fighting grew more intense to the North of the White House grounds as the 1st volunteer army got their first taste of the action. A group of young women manned the anti tank guns, they kept up a heavy rate of fire but the rounds only impacted on buildings as the women got their eye in; causing rubble to fly in all directions.
Surprisingly there was no return fire but the women continued to send shells into the area as they hoped to completely wipe out any advancing infantry.
A sharp crack split the air as a large beam of light raced forward; it struck the young lady who was loading the next shell straight in the chest. She screamed as she fell to the floor but she did not have time to feel much pain as she died seconds later.
