( A/N. The first mission of COD: AW was one of the best put together ones in my opinion: you were a young Marine, just 6 months out of training, and headed into your first battle. I don't think any other COD character gave you that sense of being so green before your inaugural encounter, and I wanted to capture that here. Let me know what you think. )
2055.
Over Seoul, South Korea.
7:55 pm, local time.
" All infantry elements to main deployment bay. All infantry elements to main deployment bay. Assault jump off in 10. "
The booming tenor of the PA system cut into the hubbub of the USMC High Altitude Assault Craft ( HAAC ) Okinawa-AV17's main bay. The place was reverberating and pulsing with the overlapping sound of a Marine battalion preparing for combat: M7A2 Warhound tanks moving into position for when the HAAC descended to ground level. The whine of F-37 Thunderstrike VTOL jets preparing to lift off and provide CAS for when the infantry and tanks hit the ground.
Besides the vehicles, there was the rhythmic rapping sounds of combat boots striking the reenforced deck sounded from hundreds of the best equipped generation of leathernecks to date.: Each was armed with an Integrated Munitions Rifle ( IMR ), capable of producing its own ammo from an onboard canister of specialized gel, and each was wearing a powered exoskeleton: load bearing, strength enhancing frameworks draped down their limbs and backs.
On the move, platoon by platoon, they filed into the bay out the the ready rooms lining its flanks, shepherded by sergeants bellowing one order after another.
It was all a scene familiar to the Marines of any HAAC task force, including the ones of AV17. They'd gone into battle before, dropped right into the teeth of the enemy before…
But never on the Korean peninsula. That war had ended decades ago…
.
..or so they'd thought. History was undeniably repeating itself.
Just 18 hours ago, a North Korean force numbering upwards of 100,000 had done the unthinkable, and invaded the South…again. In true blitzkrieg style, they caught the world by surprise as their infantry and armor units bulldozed their way ( literally, in some places ) through the DMZ fortifications, ignoring the losses the suffered from their own mines laid along it. Before too long, images of them pouring to the brightly lit streets of Seoul less than 50 miles away from the DMZ, like a tide of uniforms and steel, were flashing across screens the world over.
It stunned everyone, everyday citizens and military brass alike. The Korean tinderbox had sat dry for so long, everyone had come to expect it would ever change, at least not with such an act of brash recklessness,S. Korea being invaded again. It instantly became the #1 news story internationally, captivating the west's population.
As people watched the footage of the KPA's march into Seoul on their tablets and smartphones, the US Armed forces higher ups went into action.
The US 2nd Infantry Division, posted in South Korea since end of the previous conflict, was the first unit to respond, mobilizing out of Camp Humphrey. As the first Regimental Combat Teams ( RCT ) from 2nd ID reached the outskirts of Seoul, they made contact with not only the KPA, but also elements of the Republic of South Korea ( ROK ) Army, their own first responders trying to hold on to defensible positions in the face of the KPA's main push. The 2nd ID joined with them, and the KPA was forced to redirect the bulk of its whole invasion force into Seoul….
As the fighting in the South Korean capital escalated, and amid calls from the South Korean Government the Pentagon was already moving additional units into the fight: the 3rd Marine Expeditionary Unit, based at Kaneda Airbase on Okinawa, was also swiftly mobilized, embarking abroad their fleet of HAACs, headed for the Korean battlespace. They had to get there in time to reinforce the outnumbered 2nd ID and ROK forces holding the line in and around Seoul, as the KPA force outnumbered them nearly 12 to one…
Among the 1,00+ Marines of the 3rd MEU, was Private First Class Jack Mitchell.
The blue eyed, 6ft 3in 27 year old from Seattle was still slightly was only 6 months into his service with the USMC. He'd spent most of his brief career posted at Camp Lejune, South Carolina, as far from any war threatened place on earth as one could be. Even then, he was sure he sent into a combat zone…eventually. Certainly not within 6 months.
But here he was , with the 35 other members of his platoon, Badger 2-1. With their MRs ( Integrated Munition Rifles ) held at arms, the men marched in formation to one of the troop elevators that would take them down one deck to the drop pods; alloy plated containers made to carry a squad down from the HAAC's cruising altitude of 80,000 ft. down to the ground. All around, the din of the rest of the battalion getting ready to drop filled the air, the stamping boots, the revving engines, the shouted orders…it all somehow blended together to get his adeline flowing.
Which also masked his fear…it was fighting the adrenaline.
He knew he was feeling both. He'd felt the first inklings of it at the 0600 wake up call this morning, remembering right away where they were and what they were about to do. Siting through the initial briefing, gearing up in the ready rooms..that feeling had been there, an icy current down his spine.
Yeah, he was scared. Like he should've been: an untested soldier going into his first encounter with an enemy..
" I don't want to let them down by losing it out there…", Mitchell thought. " I can't panic, because that might get one of them killed…"
Part of him, the primal human instinct part, couldn't believe he was so concerned about other's lives in a life or death situation as or more than his own, but the other side, the Marine who was part of one of America's best fighting units, said otherwise: " You have to watch out for their lives too, now. And they'll watch out for yours. "
He tightened his grip on his IMR . He'd have to cling to that part of him for the coming battle…
Mitchell breathed deep behind his HUD mask, trying to quell the last chills of fear, but the more he did, the harder the breaths came, condensing on the mask's interior. Somehow, he reacted without needing to think: reaching up with his left hand to unclip the mask..
" hhh.."
thump !
" You know I'm scared 3/4s to death too, right ? "
The shoulder nudge and question came from the Marine on Mitchell's right: PFC William Irons. He was a 29 year old, green eyed Chicago native who'd joined the USMC alongside Mitchell…and also his friend since they began high school. Pragmatic and straightforward by nature,he was usually the one to reminds others to keep their chin up…
Of course, Mitchell could see he was just as frightened…and just as determined too.
"… Only 3/4s ? " Mitchel glanced over at him. " That makes me a damn hero already. "
Irons's mouth twisted into a smirk. " And this is the guy the Corps let in. You, of all people…. "
At that, Mitchell shrugged slightly. " Still asking myself how, too. Probably should ask my old man instead…"
" Yeah.." Will suddenly frowned. " Reminds me of how we're both here more or less becasue of them…"
That was definitely a fact. Mitchell's dad, had been a 10 year long Marine serviceman, seeing combat in both Iraq and Afghanistan, finally retiring as a Colonel. He'd been a hard nosed officer, demanding much from his troops..and failing to be there most of the time for his own son. Mitchell had grown up being on the receiving end of being relentlessly groomed for a career in the USMC, alongside spending much of his childhood with only one parent…
Will, on the other hand, had barely been exposed to the military up till now. He'd come from a wealthy family, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, so to speak. His own father, who ran the Irons' international mega corporation, had ended up doing what most wealthy and busy parents did with their kids: spoiled them. Giving them an extravagant life in a cliched attempt to make up for how little time they gave to said children.
In the end, both men's fathers had been behind their joining the Corps: Mitchell becasue it was the only career his father would back him on, and Will..to get away from a hollow life of big houses and expensive cars.
"…Well, look on the bright side. " Mitchell offered. " You kept saying how you wanted to put some space between you and him. Now here are… 80,00 ft. over South Korea ! Doesn't get any further from home than this.."
" ..True. " Irons nodded.
Mitchell was just about to casually remind Will that his dad actually had a penthouse in Tokyo ( not at all far from S. Korea. ) when….
" BADGER 2-1 ! ! "
…the baritone voice of their Sergeant blazed a trail in the air. Instantly, by pure reflex, every man snapped to attention.
" THAT'S what I like to see ! Now, listen up, and listen good ! "
With an audible thump of his boots, Master Sergeant John Cormack vaulted to the top of a small pile of ammo cases on the elevator's edge, his own MR gripped in one hand, quickly surveying his assembled Marines.
He was a tall, broad shouldered, 34 year old New England man, with the focused gaze of a hawk, and a shout that sounded like it could stop bullets. One of the last veterans of the finally concluded Afghanistan campaign, Cormack was a decisive leader who expected those under his command to always remember one of the oldest guidelines of the Marine Corps: Take the initiative.
In the absence of his orders, of course.
" We're being inserted hot into the Seocho District, ! LZ Epsilon there is being slammed by mobile KPA rocket artillery, and its on us to cover the sappers while they move in to turn those bastards into dust ! Otherwise, we lose our foothold in Seoul, and we're the only friends the Army and South Koreans have ! We WON'T let them face the KPA alone ! "
Cormack watched the faces of the untested Marines as he spoke. He could see the resolve on their faces, the confidence of their posture..
They were as ready as could be. The rest was down to him, to shepard them through this fight…
At that moment, with a loud throaty humming sound, the elevator began to move, descending into the depths of the HAAC, where the drop pods were prepared and waiting. Cormack raised his voice…
" MARINES ! YOU KNOW WHERE WE'RE GOING ! "
Mitchell, Irons, and all of Badger 2-1 bellowed their response in unison:
" OO-RAH ! "
" TELL ME HOW YOU'RE GETTING THERE ! "
Cormack's order cracked like thunder..
" WE GO FEET FIRST ! "
The men roared as one….
…as the elevator reached the bottom of its shaft. Ahead of them lay the corridors leading to the pods…
Their tickets to their own baptism of fire. Cormack stepped off the crates, as the " Imminent Combat Drop " klaxons began to wail.
He pointed ahead of them.
" THEN GET A DAMN MOVE ON AND MAKE THE COPRS PROUD ! "
" OORAH ! "
The Marines of 2-1 surged out from the elevator,with Cormack leading the pack. Moving through the corridors, the fire teams, 4 men each, headed for their own pods.
Mitchell, Irons, and a Marine called Jackson would be riding with Cormack in the same pod.
Right into the heat of it….
" .hreeeeee…"
A sound that resembled jet engines spooling up began filing the air as Mitchell fastened his accelerator harness ( which resembled the kind of thing that would hold you in place on a roller coaster ), seconds after stepping inside the dimly lit pod. To his left, Irons, the first of the fire team assigned to enter, was already locked in, and was rhythmically tapping his fingers against his harness' frame. He seemed to be humming to something..
" ..Adventure of a lifetime ? " Mitchell glanced over at him, eyebrow raised
Irons kept drumming on the harness. " Just came into my head. Didn't seem right to shake it. "
"..Yeah…suppose that makes sense.."
Across the pod, Jackson ducked inside, with Cormack close behind, who shut and locked the hatch behind him.
" Lock yourselves in, and now ! 2 minutes to drop ! ", their sergeant barked as he secured his own harness." Get yourselves ready, 2-1 ! "
2 minutes….just 2 minutes..
Mitchell's mouth went a little dry. He held onto his harness a little harder..
Not fear…just the gravity of the situation. And his own resolve.
" Hey, Mitchell ? "
" Hm ? "
" Let's make it back in one piece, ok. "
He said it in such a deadpan tone, Mitchell couldn't help but smirk.
" Sounds like a plan. "
At that moment, red warning lights came on. The spooling sound grow louder, reaching a pitch…It was just about time to make the fall.
" All Pods, all pods..…"
The voice of the battalion tactical commander, callsign " Spaceman", came in over their comms.
It was definitely any second now…
.." This is Spaceman ! Green for drop in 3…2…1… "
..Now, then.
" Deploy ! Deploy ! Deploy ! "
chink…hreeeeeeee…
With a heavy, bone jarring jolt and a hissing whoosh, the pod began its downward journey. Rocketing out of its drop tube fast enough to make everyone's stomach rise into their throats, the pod hurtled out of the HAAC's hull, and into the frigid air of high atmosphere. All around, over a dozen other pods from the HAAC also shot free, falling together like an artificial hailstorm toward the embattled city below.
As it plummeted with staggering speed, the men inside were heavily jostled and rattled by jet stream currents as they brutally hammered the pod, with their harnesses the only thing keeping them from being tossed to the floor. The piercing, constant hreeeeeee of the pod's steering jets fighting to keep them on course and manage their speed assailed their ears.
Soon, it got even louder..and rougher: As the pod dropped to roughly 50,000 ft, heavy KPA anti air opened fire on them. Angry red tracers , and puffs of black smoke from detonating rounds quickly began filling the air. Fortunately, it was quite inaccurate, with most of the fire going wide. Unfortunately, most of it was…
whump !
…not all of it. One of the incoming proximity rounds suddenly exploded just a yard from them, tearing the pod's door wide open ! Instantly, the roaring slipstream enveloping the pod flooded its interior, viciously attempting to vacuum out everything not tied down…
" Mitchell l! '
The rookie Marine had been dazed from the blast, but Cormack yelling his name snapped him back to it. As his vision cleared, he saw that Jackson's harness had also been forced open, and the Marine was helplessly clinging to the pod's door frame, his legs flailing behind him outside !
The only thing keeping him from being thrown clear and plunging over 30,000 ft…was the viselike grip of Cormack's gloved hands. The stalwart sergeant was gritting his teeth, visibly straining against the tremendous pull of the gale force rush of air threatening to drag Jackson to his death.
" MITCHELL ! " Cormack was now practically glaring at him. " HIT THE OVERRIDE! "
Blinking the last of his disorientation away, Mitchell endeavored to respond. He lunged forward, his harness stubbornly doing its job, reaching out toward the override button that would reseal the gale hammered him…
" DAMN IT! I'M GOING TO DIE IN A SECOND HERE ! " howled the imperiled Jackson, who'd already begun to slip..
Almost there…his fingertips brushed it…
" HANG ON…OK…THERE ! "
Mitchell formed a fist, and slammed the override. Instantly, the pod's door folded itself closed, sweeping Jackson's legs back into the pod, and nearly throwing him into the opposite wall.
" God…! Thought… my number had been called..", Jackson panted, as he hauled himself back to his feet and slipped back into his harness.
Irons exalted over the close call. " You're the man, Mitchell ! "
" Celebrate later ! " Cormack, having made sure that the door and Jackson were both secured, reached up to activate his overheard command console, tapping in a new course for the pod.
" Spaceman! AA's too heavy on our current route ! Resetting drop point ! ", he reported, shutting the console off.
" Noted, 2-1 Actual. "
As if on cue, the built in screens on the pod's ceiling flickered to life, showing the feed from the underside cameras, and giving them a clearer view of what they were about to land in: Among the dozens of burning buildings, of downtown Seoul, one stood out as being directly in their path.
The Intercontinental Hotel. It was pockmarked by shellfire, and on fire in several places…
..and they were only about 300ft. away.
"…! "
"…! "
"…! "
" EVERYONE BRACE ! "
The men of Badger-21's command element were fortune to have survived their drop.
The pod with them in it had collided with the hotel's side with enough force to wrench the men's harness partially off their mountings. Without slowing down, it had ricocheted off the side of the building in a shower of glass shards and concrete splinters, fallen 10 stories , and embedded itself in the open terrace on the 20th floor..overlooking LZ Epsilon.
At that point, everyone was battered to some degree…or at least Mitchell, Irons and Jackson seemed to be most affected by the punishing impact. Cormack somehow was able to shake it off quickly; undoing his harness and taking hold of his IMR, he worked the controls to unseal the door, and threw it open, peering outside.
" Come on, Marines ! " He leapt to terrace floor.
A small chorus of grunts and muttered expletives came from inside the pod, as Jackson, Mitchell, and Irons slowly extracted themselves from their harnesses, picked up their rifles, and followed their sergeant outside. Mitchell was the first out, and was greeted by the sight of hundreds of embers drifting past his face.
Thousands, actually. Seoul was being ravaged by fires. For as far as he could see, every other of its usually neon lit ( at this hour ) buildings was on fire, the columns of black and brown smoke standing over the city like so many dead trees. All those embers swirled around in clouds against the peach orange hue of the setting sun, competing for space with countless tracers…
Every inch the warzone..
" Welcome to the frontline.."
Irons had emerged from the pod, and now stood beside Mitchell, surveying the ravaged city. Both were immediately reminded of their hometowns, Chicago and Seattle, and how they might look if they were also torn apart by a vicious armed conflict..
Not a pretty picture.
"..Yeah…
creeeack..crash !
Without warning, the pod tore loose from its perch with the piercing sound of rending metal, and tumbled over the edge to the rubble strewn streets below
" Jackson..! "
" Yeah..! Relax, I'm still here.." The 4th marine called out, having jumped down from the pod seconds before it fell. " And before you say it, yeah that was way too close.."
He seemed to have a knack for avoiding death today..
" Whew..! "
" Rally on me, 2-1. " Cormack made his way past them. " We got an LOS on LZ Epsilon from here, but we're supposed to be there, not looking at it ! "
" Yes, sir ! "
He proceeded to take point, and with his men formed up behind him, led them off the ( also rubble covered ) terrace and into the maze of hallways inside the hotel, which themselves weren't untouched by the war either: the brightly painted walls were speckled with bullet holes, the expensive carpets had been scorched and blackened by grenade explosions, and the scent of burnt wood hung in the air. Most of the spacious rooms they passed had been blown or kicked open, revealing the same unfeeling punishment had been dealt to them as the hallways, with the main difference being that the memory foam mattress beds were..oddly clean.
As they continued wending their way ahead through the winding corridors, they had to steer around a left behind maid's cart, and as they went by, Mitchell noticed it contained several instant coffee packets in one of its open supply bins..
He deftly reached in and grabbed a handful. Never ignore a chance for free coffee…
" Hey, Will.." He held that hand out behind him. " Never know when we'll find a working hotpot. "
Irons took several of them. " Its not stealing, its salvaging. "
They could't help but grin at that.
Just around the corner from the abandoned coffee, the hall's right side opened onto the hotel's vast atrium, a pyramidal space that stretched up at least 10 stories, and most impressively of all, it was dominated by a ornate, star shaped chandelier that was suspended in the center. The lobby below would've been equally impressive…if it didn't look like a half wrecked tank had driven into it.
Wait. One had. A Russian made, T90 tank in 1960's green and with with one of its tracks missing, had careened into the lobby, completely uprooted the floor behind it, and buried its front end into the wall behind the splintered reception desk.
Interesting choice of decor…
Cormack leaned over the rail, and cast a scornful look down at the ruined enemy war machine. " Only useful to make soup cans out of it now. Alright….LZ Epsilon is directly out through the lobby doors. Remember, tap your boosters on the way down. Burn up too much of a charge at once, and you're in for a trip to the chiropractor when your back hits the deck. "
Preferring to lead by example, Cormack vaulted the rail. As he began to fall, his exo suit's built in jets, installed specially for operating in an urban environment, where vertical movement was key, fired.
prshhhhhh…
..prshhhhhhh….
More gentle whooshing followed as the rest of 2-1 emulated him. In loose single file, they went over the rail, bobbing though the still lobby air, before thumping down on the glass covered floor.
" Step lively…"
The 4 man team jogged quickly outside through the gaping hole where the hotel's main doors would've been, emerging out into LZ Epsilon. Taking up the entire city square that the hotel sat on, LZ Epsilon seemed to a scene of barely controlled chaos; several M7A2's trundled past in pairs, shaking the ground beneath them. A few South Korean Army PZH2000 155mm artillery guns were creating even more of a racket as they lobbed shells at distant targets, and additional drop pods were landing directly in the center of the square ( having had a far easier time coming in than 2-1 ). Amid all the noise, there were still more flying cinders…
How picaresque..
" Its real now ! " , yelled Jackson, as they ducked through the clouds of dust kicked up by all the heavy moving machinery.
" Now ?! It got real when we fell 80,000 ft. from the sky ! ", Mitchell replied.
Weaving behind one of the PZH2000's, Cormack led them into LZE's dust covered command tent. Packed with equipment crates, and a large tactical display console, it was staffed by only a handful of Marines, and none of them appeared to be officers. One of them, however, turned around to face them as they entered.
" Who the hell are you guys ?! ", he demanded. The name tab on his fatigues read " Daniels ".
" Badger 2-1 ! Command Element ! ", Cormack answered, with equal volume. " We're here to cover Crowbar 3-1's mission. Where'd they go ? "
Daniels was silent for a moment, as though surprised. " You're 2-1's lead ? Hell, I thought you'd bought it already ! "
He stepped over the the console, and quickly consulted it, looking for the ID tags of different units and their position in the area..
" Got them ! They're about 2 clicks north, Grid 775 ! "
" Roger that…let's move, 2-1 ! "
The churning treads of an M7A2 sounded just inches over Mitchell's head as it rolled over the shallow trench he was crouch running down, 50 yards beyond the perimeter of LZE. The street they were on seemed to have changed hands several times, judging from the extensive shell holes in the ground, gouged out buildings and the thousands of spent cartridges. A few more wrecked T90's added to the post battle clutter.
The squad kicked aside empty rounds as they clambered out of the depression in time to see something that looked like a cloud of bees bearing down on them.
A drone swarm !
" Incoming drones ! " Cormack already had the rifle to his shoulder. " Cover, now ! "
As his men scrambled to obey, the drones opened fire, pelting them with a shower of high velocity election pulses. With so many drones, the onslaught quickly became hard to weather; Jackson cried out as a bolt signed his left arm, Irons' rifle was scorched by a direct hit. Mitchell lifted his own IMR, squeezed off a burst, and was rewarded with a barrage of more bolts that forced back back behind the car he'd hidden behind.
" Jackson ! You ok ?! " Irons called, as he hurriedly checked his IMR to see if it still worked.
BRAM !
The M7A2 behind them had joined the fight, and the report of its main cannon, firing proximity warheads to combat the drones, cut off Jackson's reply..if it had even come. The swarming drones pressed their attack, and the pinned Marines quickly realized just how bad a position they were now in.
.." Yeah, man…I'm alive ! My left's hit bad though…"
Irons crouch ran over to Jackson's position, amid the steady popping sounds of Cormack and Mitchell's IMRs. The M7A2 remained where it was, blasting round after round into the swarm.
As Irons' reached Jackson, who was seated inside entrance of a building on the left side of the street firing short controlled bursts from his IMR…
shhhhhh…boom !
" Shit..RPG ! " Mitchell recognized the white vapor trail left hanging in the air. " Contacts ! KPA infantry, left side ! "
Reacting instinctively, he pivoted in that direction, bringing his IMR to bear on the enemy assault force that had just emerged from an alley. They were already scattering as Mitchell sighted down on them…and time seemed to slow…
" IRONS ! JACKSON ! HOLD POSTION ! "
Cormack's shouted command cut into the battle noise…
..as Mitchell fired.
ratatat !
His rounds found their mark, and the North Korean RPG operator toppled over, sending the rocket he'd just pressed the trigger to fire racing harmlessly away into the sky, seconds before a " smart " grenade ( a guided explosive charge that could be guided to its target after being thrown ) from Cormack exploded among them, eliminating several more. The rest managed to finally fan out though, found cover, and began returning fire…
This wasn't getting any easier.
Mitchell dived off the rubble pile he'd been firing from, as a fusillade of lead zeroed in on it. Hitting the ground and rolling upright, he lined up another shot from his IMR, as that ever helpful M7A2 again waded in to lends a hand.
However, even as its powerful shells detonated in front of the KPA troops, a loud, rumbling growl suddenly heralded the appearance of a fully functioning T90 as it rounded the corner at the end of the street. The hostile tank clanked forward, with yet more infantry right behind it.
" They're launching full on counterattack ! " Cormack unhooked another grenade, pausing briefly to make sure Jackson and Irons' were still hunkered down. " Watch that tank ! "
Mitchell's blood was charged with adrenaline now, as he hit the IMR's reload switch. The M7A2, having just fired one more shot at the alley force seconds before the T90 appeared, shifted to take it on…
wshhhhh…BOOM !
?
The earthshaking blast didn't sound like a KPA issue RPG…or an M7A2 shell…
" Mitchell..hey ! Over there ! On the right.. "
Jackson…?
Standing up ( cautiously ), Mitchell looked over in that direction, and was shocked to see a group of armed men standing on the roof of an low rise apartment building. They were dressed in a mix of casual, outdoors' clothes, and military style fatigues, were armed with military style weapons, and were firing them with military precision…
PMC troops…
Here…?
What the hell…?