No Boundaries In War
It was nearly 0100 hrs, and a resounding shockwave from and exploding shell threw many soldiers into the air. Landing hard in the sand dunes, some of them had the sense of mind to quickly scramble out before another shell went off. Many were blown into oblivion a few seconds later by the expected bomb.
Lieutenant Colonel Hughes covered his face against flying shrapnel. And then he looked through his broken glasses in horror at his dead comrades. Only three soldiers managed to escape. Hughes scowled at the dead bodies, 'There goes another squad, dammit.'
He turned to the remaining squadron, "Hurry up! We have to reach back to Base and report this attack to Colonel Mustang!"
"Yes sir!" replied the three, and they all followed their superior officer up and down the sand dunes towards their Base and away from the hiding enemies.
Hughes burst through the tent door into the Colonel's office. "Colonel! The Rebel's have taken out more than four Divisions! They are more armed and trained than we have expected."
Colonel Mustang ruffled his short black hair and sighed dramatically. "Ask the soldiers to hold enemy back and clear a path so troops can access the trap. Raise the defenses here. Tell Second Lieutenant Havoc in the 7th Division to forward his men up to the 5th Point to cut off the enemy so they can't retreat out of our trap. Understood?"
Hughes frowned. "If they move that close, the explosion might kill them, Colonel, sir."
Mustang glared at Hughes, "I don't want to make any mistakes, and I'm going to ask you not to question my actions, Lieutenant."
Hughes tried to keep his mouth sealed, "Yes sir. Please forgive my rudeness."
He hurried outside so he wouldn't further oppose his superior and get himself reassigned to another operation.
Lately, he's been worried about Colonel Mustang. He's been acting more 'discreet' about his actions, sacrificing lives and sometimes recklessly opposing the Revolutionists. Ever since this war started, Mustang's changed into a different man. He use to be happy, and listen to his comrades. But now he's been power-drunk, and he isolates himself.
The Colonel was in another war before this; maybe he's starting to enjoy commanding this soldiers any way he wishes, maybe he has hidden scars from the massacre of the war before this one.
Hughes briskly walked to his Division's Radioman. "Master Sergeant Fuery," he asked the short man at the Switchboard.
Fuery quickly turned around and saluted, "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes! I wasn't expecting you, I'm sorry for the mess!"
"Easy, Four-Eyes. I need to contact Second Lieutenant Havoc immediately," said Hughes, patting Fuery on the shoulder.
"Oh uh, yes sir!" replied the excited teen, pushing his glasses up his nose.
The two put on a set of phones attached to the radio machine. Fuery started playing with the machine, and soon the static disappeared and was replaced with a monotone buzz.
"Lieutenant Havoc? Are you there?" asked Hughes.
There was a pause but soon came the smooth voice of Havoc. "Lieutenant Havoc here."
"Lieutenant, have all your men march up to the 5th Point by the passage immediately. Colonel Mustang has ordered hi operation into motion, and he requests you to trap the Rebels inside the passage. Thank you."
Hughes dropped the earphones to gather up some men to replace his dead squadron. He had to help hold the enemy off for Colonel Mustang. Even though it might kill them all, it was for the peace of their country.
On the other side of the phone line, Havoc twirled his cigarette between his lips. "This 5th Point? Mustang must be out of his mind! We'll be crushed if we get that close to the explosion!"
"Sorry, Lieutenant Havoc, sir. Colonel Mustang has ordered it," came a small voice, who he recognized as the Radioman of the 3rd Division, Hughes' Division.
"Yeah, yeah. If I die, tell Mustang to go to hell," replied Havoc, as he spat out his cigarette to the dirt and lit a new one.
Hughes had gathered about seven men to come with him to hold off the hidden Rebels, along with 10th and 4th Division. He always found that the machine guns and rifles were too heavy. Right now, they couldn't be heavier. His breath came short and he was covered in sweat.
"About 100 paces and we should intercept the other Divisions," announced Hughes over the echo of shooting and grenades in the distance, which is where the battle must be.
The squad started into a run, minding their heads of stray bullets if they came their way. The sand slowed them down significantly; he'd always hated desert battles.
Off in the distance, they saw a number of large rock formations, nearly as big as a mountain. That is were the enemy was being held off. If the Rebels managed to break through the defense forces, he was sure that nothing could stop them if they found their Base.
"There they are!" shouted a solider behind him.
And sure enough, beneath the rock mountain, there was a battle ensuing between sandy brown uniforms and navy blue uniforms. He could see their side was losing, the navy blue clad soldiers. The locals had indeed been taught in the art of combat. The Parliament wouldn't have expected that, since the Rebels were isolated in the middle of the desert.
"Hurry! Spread out to support both Divisions at 10 o'clock and 1 o'clock!" Hughes ordered.
He was saluted, and then he went to find the 4th Division Leader. Hopefully she was still alive.
"Brigadier General Armstrong, ma'am. Thank goodness you're alive," panted Hughes as he took cover behind a wall of sandbags. The woman beside him, once in a while shooting over the sandbags at the hiding enemy, looked at him with an icy stare.
"You're late, Lieutenant Colonel," she said evenly.
"Yes, yes. I am very sorry about that," said Hughes with an awkward chime to his tone.
"How is Colonel Mustang?" she asked, throwing a grenade behind a large boulder where some Rebels were hiding.
"Roy… He's been acting differently, ever since he was assigned to command this phase of the war," Hughes said sadly, reminiscing about how Roy Mustang use to be.
"I see," she replied.
"According to the Colonel. Lieutenant Havoc is on his way to trap the enemy inside that rock passage, and then the 14th Division stationed at the cliffs will detonate explosives, sufficiently exterminating the advancing enemies. Then what's left of our Divisions will join with a few more about 2 miles down, and we'll ambush the village the Leader is hiding in," said Hughes, outlining the plan for the Brigadier General.
"Do we get to kill him?" she asked calmly.
"No! We have to take him to The Parliament for his sentence!" pointed out Hughes. "If he's dead, then there'll be no rightful justice for the countless lives he's destroyed in order for his 'Revolution'!"
"I see your point," she said.
Lieutenant Havoc stared in shock and trepidation. The damn barbarians had a trump card!
"Warrant Officer Falman?!" Havoc shouted for his Division's Radioman.
"S-Sir?!" Falman shouted back, hiding behind a rock that barely protected him against the whizzing enemy bullets.
"Hurry and contact Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!"
"Y-Yes sir!" stuttered Falman, shouldering the radio machine on his back.
He barely had time to fumble for the phones when a sneaky Rebel emerged from behind a rock a few yards away, and shot at Falman and Havoc.
Havoc had the sense to quickly dodge behind a boulder, but his companion was too frozen in fear, he didn't even have time to shout before he was killed.
"Falman?!" Havoc panicked. He turned, fingering the trigger on his shotgun, and quickly faced the enemy and shot him through the chest. The other members of his squad had retreated out of the passage; in dread of another sneak attack. Leaving only Havoc.
Falman was dead. He had absolutely no idea how to work the radio. He groped around with the radio machine attached to Falman's back.
"I need to tell the Lieutenant Colonel! The bastards have explosives!"
He heard the slightest sound behind him. He whipped around to see at least six enemy Rebels, all holding weapons pointed at him.
"Soldier, put your weapon down and hands in the air," commanded one, who Havoc assumed was the leader of this group.
Havoc weakly grinned, "No thanks." 'I'm going to die anyways.'
"Soldier!" the leader commanded again.
Havoc trained the barrel of his gun at the man, and shot. The man dropped dead, but the remaining men pointed their guns at him. And shot.
"Wh…What?! Why are they retreating?!" exclaimed Hughes alarmingly. The enemy troops seem to be moving back behind the boulders into the passage.
"This is not a time to be having kittens, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. We chase after them," said the Brigadier General.
"B-But…Lieutenant Havoc should have…" said Hughes, as Armstrong dragged him to his feet and started commanding her soldiers to chase after the Rebels. In the distance, he heard the 10th Division Leader shouting the same orders.
"Brigadier General, ma'am. The 3rd Division Leader was supposed to provide a barricade to keep the enemy trapped. The enemy is retreating back, that should mean that Havoc couldn't hold them in there! He might be--!" he was interrupted by the Brigadier General.
"That doesn't matter! Radio the 14th Division to detonate! Before they escape!" she ordered him, as a superior.
"Y-Yes Ma'am," he shrunk away from her growl. "Master Sergeant Fuery?!" 'Oh God, please be alive.'
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?!" bellowed Fuery, cowering behind another soldier.
"Radio the 14th Division Leader! Tell him to detonate!"
"Right away, Sir!"
Suddenly, something stopped all of them. Four blazing white flares were shot into the air, blinding many of them. The night sky was lit up, shining brightly into the darkness-adjusted eyes of the defense Divisions.
"I can't see!" cried Hughes, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, but holding his weapon towards the general direction of the passage, knowing the flares were a distraction.
"Lieutenant Colonel, the 14th Division won't respond!" said Fuery over the loud sound of firing bullets coming from the Divisions. It was hard to understand Fuery because of his sleeve over his face, but he knew that the 14th Division was unreachable.
"Try another frequency!" Hughes wiped at his teary eyes.
Abruptly, he heard the foreign cover fire of the Rebels. 'Damn, they're trying to get closer!'
He also heard the supporting Division soldiers fire back, trying to hit someone in the dark.
"Grenades!" he heard Brigadier General Armstrong command the soldiers.
Soon after, he heard the explosions echo through the night.
After a few moments, he dared poke his head over the sandbags, despite his burning eyes. The enemy was still there! From where he was, it looked like they harbored Teflon of Kevlar shields and…explosives?!
"Enemy is armed with explosives!" he shouted so everyone could hear.
The advancing soldiers started into a sprint. 'Bastards are suicidal!' thought Hughes.
Some of his soldiers managed a fluke shot and killed maybe five people, but here was still a good twenty left.
"Retreat! Everyone retreat!" ordered Armstrong. They were obviously outnumbered and outgunned. If they stayed, they'd surely die.
"It's too late!" panicked Fuery as he saw the enemy only 50 paces away.
It was then that a white flash glared and a hideous reverberation of enemy explosions filled his ears, followed by the conflagration of the bang. Shrapnel, or so he thought, suddenly found its way into his flesh, ignoring the sandbags.
He soon found that he wasn't the only one howling in pain, it sounded like everyone was hit.
"Pipe bombs!" he heard someone shout, their voice dripping with agony.
'Pipe bombs?! Those savages!' thought Hughes. He looked down to see the extent of his damage. He held an open wound on his chest and arm, though his vision was still distorted because of his broken glasses and also the flares.
"Everyone! Retreat! Gather the wounded, leave the dead!" he shouted to those that could carry themselves.
He looked around, and saw a morbid scene. Many soldiers were dead, blood soaking the dry sand. He looked beside him. Brigadier General Armstrong was bleeding through the chest and head. She was dead.
'That could have been me.'
He heard his short, raven-haired Radioman howling with pain. "Lieutenant Colonel! Help me! Please!"
Hughes scampered over to Fuery and gathered him over his shoulder, minding Fuery's leg wound, telling him it'll be alright, like any responsible officer would tell his subordinate.
He looked and made sure everyone alive could escape. There were scant survivors. Without notice, the enemy threw another bomb right towards them.
"Cover!!"
It exploded, making a twang sound as nails bounced off rocks. Though, people were still killed by the bomb,
"Fall back! Fall back! Return to Base!" he shouted behind him, and made his way towards the direction of the Base, carrying Fuery.
"Medic! I need a medic!" called Hughes, legs burning and lungs about to explode.
Two doctors shot out of a tent, both carrying an aid kit.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" one shouted.
"Take care of him," he moved Fuery who groaned in response. He was placed on a stretcher.
"What about you? You're bleeding!"
"I have to report to the Colonel."
The Colonel was silently cleaning his gun, when he saw Hughes stumble in.
"Colonel! I need you to ask everyone to abandon Base! Immediately! The Rebels weren't stopped; they're coming right now!"
"Hughes, you're asking me to abandon a million-dollar operation? Let the enemy have the satisfaction of victory? And listen to a low subsidiary like you?" questioned Mustang, leaning his head.
Hughes stomped up to the Colonel's desk and snatched his collar. "Colonel! Listen to me! Everyone in this base is going to die if you don't evacuate!"
"Hughes, you deeply underestimate the ability of The Parliament. They supplied us with the highest quality weaponry and soldiers," said Roy.
"Now release me at once, you look very unprofessional."
"They have pipe bombs, Colonel! It doesn't matter if we have the greatest whatever, it's not going to stop the bombs from killing everyone here!"
"Pipe bombs?" What cowards would use pipe bombs in a war? Now stop making a scene and get out of here."
Hughes suddenly pulled out his pistol and pointed it under the Colonel's chin. "Roy. Please."
Roy looked down at the gun pointed at his head. "You can't shoot me, Hughes."
"And I don't want to. But if you don't save everyone here, I'll have no choice."
Roy gently moved for Hughes' gun, but Hughes jerked back, releasing Roy's uniform. But pointed the gun back at his superior officer.
"I'll kill you, Roy."
"Then hurry up, because I'm not going to ask my men to fall back when they can defend this base."
The gun in Hughes' hand trembled precariously at his Colonel. 'I-I don't want to shoot him. We've been through Academy together. Fought in the trenches together. I've known him for my entire life.'
"But, you're my best friend," Hughes whispered hoarsely.
"Listen Hughes, put the gun away and order the remaining soldiers to surround the Base," said the Colonel calmly.
"R-Roy," whimpered Hughes. "I don't think you're right to lead this operation anymore. You're not in your right mind. War has changed you deeply. The Almighty Colonel Mustang I use to dote on doesn't exist. You aren't Roy Mustang anymore."
Hughes flicked the hammer on his gun and looked Roy in the eye.
"That's why I can kill you."
A lithe blonde woman raced into the Colonel's tent. "Colonel! The enemy has wiped out all our defenses! We must--!"
She stopped mid-sentence once she saw a body on the ground, wearing a regulation blue uniform. His blood was staining the ground below him. She could clearly see a hold protruding through his back; he must have been hit with a through-and-through. She tried refraining from yelping at seeing one of her closest comrades dead on his face.
"C-Colonel?"
"Lieutenant Hawkeye. I'm sorry you had to see this. He was a traitor. I had no choice," said the man standing over the body.
She remained silent, still looking at her dead friend in horror.
Colonel Mustang stepped over Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.
Roy put his newly cleaned gun back in its holster, stepping outside his tent to see his Base surrounded by Rebels.
"Sorry Hughes, but there's no boundaries in war."
End
