Harrier: The Baltic
Chapter 1: Survivors
Game: C&C Red Alert 2
Disclaimer: Every unit and setting, and the background story
belong to Westwood Studios. Anyone or anything else belongs to me.
A/N: I just finished watching the Dambusters, and having seen
Pearl Harbor last week, and a big fan of C&C, how could I resist?
A knock on a white, panelled door
told Lieutenant-General William MacArthur that his aircrews had arrived. He
looked up from his desk, discarded the casualty list that was in his hand, and
cried in his usual authoritative voice, "Enter".
Five men,
each tall, each with their immaculate USAF uniform bedecked with medals, and
each with a shallow, grim faced expression upon their faces. They walked single
file into the room, and with parade ground precision, turned as one and
saluted. MacArthur returned the salute, and asked them to sit down.
"Well,
guys, I have to say that your performance in Dalhart was pretty impressive, and
you can rest assured that your courage and determination lived up to your
unit's reputation. You saved a lot of lives, and I can say that you and your
friends and colleagues that perished will be honoured. Unfortunately, war
doesn't stop, even for hero's like yourselves." He paused, looking at the
pained faces on the men in front of him. He couldn't hear or the things running
through their minds. The sounds of flak explosions, of shrapnel ripping their
aircraft to pieces, the eerie, piercing screams of the fallen coming in over
the radio, the images of wingman going
down in flames, of missiles flying through the air around them, and of the
raging ground battle below them.
A week had
passed since the battle at Dalhart. An Army infantry brigade had been occupying
a captured Soviet supply camp, when they were suddenly surrounded by two
Russian motorized divisions. The 32nd Attack wing, consisting of the
12th, 35th, and the 53rd, the men's own unit,
Harrier squadrons, nearly 50 aircraft, were running missions around the clock,
trying to blast a path for the retreating infantry to escape. They did, just,
but at heavy cost to the Harrier squadrons, and only 14 aircraft, and aircrew,
survived. The rest were either lying dead in plane wreckage in the Texan
desert, or being transported to a POW camp in Siberia. The five men sitting in
that office were the survivors of the 53rd, and had been summoned to
the Pentagon almost as soon as they had returned home.
"Well, I
have another mission for you, and there is a very high chance that none of you
will make it back." He stared again at the men in front of him, they displayed
no signs of weakness, just that continuous grim faced look. "As you know, we
rely upon our European allies for military support. By keeping the soviets
occupied here, we are preventing them from deploying their armies against
Western Europe. However, we now face a new problem. Two months ago, we detected
a withdrawal of Soviet reserves from their Northern bases to the European
front. This has coincided with a build-up of Soviet naval forces in the Baltic.
In fact, our satellites have picked up three soviet invasion fleets, nearly
forty percent of their entire naval resources are currently lying in wait in
the naval bases at St Petersburg.
Now, the
Europeans aren't happy with this development. They have decided, in fact, to maintain
the majority of their own naval forces ready in the North Sea. While this does
prevent the Soviet Navy from leaving the Baltic and striking at our European
allies, this also means that there are no ships are able to escort the supply
convoys bringing in their military supplies to the US. With most of our navy
tied up all over the Pacific and defending our Eastern and Western seaboards,
we can also not provide cover for the Atlantic convoys, and with Soviet long
range submarines scouring the ocean, we can't leave them unprotected. Whilst I
hate to say it, we need those supplies to keep our forces fighting until our
own industries recover from the Soviet attack.
Now, we
know that the Soviet battle fleets will only sail with a command vessel. Usually
a modified Dreadnaught. So the obvious step would be to destroy these 'capital'
ships. We have held talks with the European powers and they have agreed to
withdraw some vessels to provide cover, so long as these ships are taken out.
Now, here is the problem. The Soviets know that we will do anything to destroy
them, and so they have protected them accordingly.
Breaking
down our options then. Firstly, we considered a naval assault on St Petersburg.
Well, even if we could muster every ship in the region, we wouldn't get any
further than the outer gates. To get into the naval anchorage, ships have to
travel up a twenty mile stretch of narrow river way. On both banks, there are
large shore batteries, including heavily emplaced Tesla Coils, and several army
bases nearby can flood the river banks with tanks within a few moments notice.
Add to this a considerable number of submarines, squids, and those nasty little
bastard attack boats. This also, unfortunately, rules out a dolphin attack. A
land assault was also considered, but with the Soviet re-enforcements in the
area, this action would only result in the opening of a second front in Europe,
and we have to avoid that at all cost. The only option left would be to launch
an air assault."
"Excuse me
sir, but what using nuclear weapons." One of the men finally spoke, his
shoulder insignia indicated his rank, a captain, and a tag indicated his name,
John Ryan. He was the oldest surviving member of the 53rd, and had
been in the air force for nearly ten years. He had completed more than six
hundred missions against the Soviet Union, and despite having four aircraft
written off around him, he was considered one of the best Harrier pilots in the
world.
"Another
possibility, but over the range we are talking about, it would be impossible to
predict their accuracy. Now, we signed an agreement with the Soviets only to
use tactical warheads on military targets. Yes, I remember Chicago, but I'm
afraid the President does not want us to descend to the level of the Commies.
If our missile strikes did miss, then we all know how the Soviets would
respond, and, I do want to have a home to go to when all this is finished. So,
we are left at an air strike. Now, a conventional air attack will be destroyed
long before it approaches the harbor, so you'll have to go in fast and low.
However, you will still sustain heavy casualties, I'm afraid they will be
unavoidable." MacArthur scanned the men in front of him once again, gazing at
each pilot for a few seconds. It was all he needed to know that each man
accepted this fact without question.
Now, at
this altitude, your normal weapons will be useless. Your cannons and low-level ASM's will not cause enough damage
to put any of the three command ships out of action. Torpedoes are out of the question
as well, as the ships are protected by extensive torpedo nets. It looked as
though we were out of options. Then a few of us had an idea. We were discussing
this with a British commander, a Major Fox, I think this guy was called, and he
told me that in the Second World War, they faced a similar problem. They had to
attack three German Dams in the Ruhr valley, and did you know what they used?"
The men
shook their heads.
"Bouncing
bombs, like a pebble over the surface of a lake. They had their bombers fly
over the surface of the reservoirs, dropped these bouncing bombs, and they
bounced over the German's torpedo nets and Bang, destroyed two of the dams and
flooded an area the size of New York. This gave me an idea.. We should do the
same, by our calculations, a Harrier could be made to fly with this bomb under
one wing with a fuel tank under the other to balance it out. We'll then fly the
aircraft in at low level, find and identify the capital ships, and destroy them
with these bouncing bombs. At the altitude you will be flying at, flak shouldn't
be a problem, however, we need the best pilots, guys who can fly and manoeuvre Harriers
in this extremely small airspace. And that, men, is why you were chosen."
"Right,
sir, and how are we going to pull this off?" Asked another of the pilots, this
time a Lieutenant by the name Peter Fisher. After Ryan, Fisher was considered
the most experienced airman in the squadron. Shorter than the rest by a couple
of inches, his presence still demanded a respect even from superior officers. "There are only five of us, after all. Five
against, what, say three or four million Soviet personnel, over a facility that
makes Pearl Harbor look like a kiddies play pool. That ain't good odds, even by
our standards, sir."
"Well, your
odds are going to be slightly better than that. What's left of your unit is
being joined with a British squadron, the 617th, I think, to form
the AAFSOU."
"What?"
Replied Ryan.
"It stands
for Allied Air Force, Special Operations Unit. These British guys had
experience in the last war, including launching raids against Petersburg, so
they'll know the terrain. It's seven of them and you five, and that's it. There
are plans to expand the unit, but I'm afraid you guys are the only pilots we
can spare. You will be shipping out to England in four days time. Go home, say
goodbye, to your families, your friends, and anyone else, and get ready,
because this mission will probably help determine the outcome of this war. Remember
that. Good luck, men, and Godspeed. Dismissed." MacArthur got up, shook each
man by the hand, and gave them a final salute. He watched them leave silently
from his office, before sitting down again, with a horrible feeling in his gut
that told him that he had just signed those men's death warrants.