Chapter Four: In Good Company
"The men of Normandy had faith that what they were doing was right, faith that they fought for all humanity, faith that a just God would grant them mercy on this beachhead or the next. It was the deep knowledge, and pray to God we have not lost it, that there is a profound moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest"
-Ronald Reagan
Italica, Earth Date October 25, 10:32, Special Region
"Bro what the fuck are you doing!"
"Give me a second amigo."
"We don't got a second Mendez!"
"Calm down Russian, there all done." Sergeant Carlos Mendez said putting the cap on a sharpie marker, he took a step back to inspect his work.
The work in question was a painting of Emperor Molt Sol Augustus that was hanging in the hallway of an inn. Mendez had taken a sharpie and had drawn a crude mustache and beard on the face of the Emperor. At the bottom of the painting he had written the words "I eat dicks". Mendez chuckled before the sound of whistles pierced the air.
"Ok time to go." Mendez said before he continued running down the hall after his team mate.
The two had done as ordered, wait thirty minutes after the first team goes in, infiltrate through the west gate, rally at the market place. They got as far as part two before things took a turn for the worst.
Halfway to the central market place the duo had been stopped a member of the city watch. Everything was going well, until the guard asked for papers. From there everything went to hell, before the guard could detain them the two men had disappeared into the crowd.
The two had taken off into the city to try and shake the city watch. They had cut through market stalls, private homes, and inns. The farther they had ran, the further they were away from the rally point.
"Shit like that Mendez is how they pick up the trail."
"You gotta admit it was kinda funny man."
Janek opened the back door of the inn and slipped into an alleyway.
"Ok it was funny, but it don't help our current situation."
The two Berets slipped into a crowded street and began to make their way back towards the central market. They slowed their pace as to not arouse suspicion, every once in awhile city watch would rush past them.
Mendez kept looking of his shoulder making sure no one was following.
"Christ, calm down kamarád we lost them."
"Bro you start talkin' that soviet shit I'm gonna have to pop you."
"You stop talking fuckin' Spanish then." Janek replied glancing over his shoulder.
"Oh you're walkin' a fine line puta."
"What you just call me otrava?!"
"Why don't you both shut it."
The two jumped at the suddenness of another English speaker behind them. Walking behind them and wearing similar cloaks was Donavan and Bowman. The barrels of their carbines were barely visible under their cloaks.
Mendez sighed in relief. "Good to see you Captain."
"Likewise."
"Where's the rest of the unit?"
"All here, just waiting on you two Russian."
The hushed voices of the berets died down when members of the city watch passed them. Donavan glanced at the guards when they passed.
"Let's get off the street."
"With you on that Captain." Bowman muttered.
Donavan led them off the streets and into a small inn hidden in a back street. They had step from one shaky situation into another. Sitting at round tables scattered throughout the establishment were mercenaries, brigands, thieves, and black market dealers.
Men willing to turn them in for some quick coin.
At other tables sat the hooded figures of the Beret ODA. Their rifles leaned against the table and within arms reach.
"From one shit storm into another." Janek muttered.
"We'll arouse less suspicion here, get comfortable this is home."
"Alright Captain."
The four sat down at a table with two other berets, across the tavern sat the other six. Donavan leaned in and began talking in a hushed voice.
"Alright, down to brass tax. Yall remember project gamma?"
"Yeah."
"Good, so you know the deal. Make contact, bribe them, make promises, get them to turn coat."
"Who we targeting Kapitán?"
Donavan grinned. "Money makes the world go round, we're going after the merchants. They know the supply lines, people in high places, and information. We make contact with them and we'll have the entire damn empire tapped."
Glancing up at the bar, Donavan saw the innkeeper whisper something to a patron just before he left.
"I wonder if we would have been safer on the streets."
"Higgins, keep an eye on the innkeep. If he does something that'll give us up, drop him." Donavan said looking away from the man behind the counter.
"You got it boss." Sergeant Patrick Higgins replied letting his New York accent slip out.
"Very important question here Captain."
"Aight Bowman, shoot."
"How the hell we gonna make contact with the merchants? Like we don't got shit to bargain with."
"Find out what they want, we radio back to base, and they get us what they want." Donavan replied once more glancing around the inn. Many of the mercenaries began to take notice of the strange men who had entered the inn and began to talk. By now Donavan began to rethink his plan.
Italica Milo Trading Company Headquarters, 11:07, Special Region
Isaac Marious sat at a heavy oak desk, laid out before him were countless papers and business ledgers. He was prominent member within the Italica Merchant community, owing hundreds of assets across the continent. In recent weeks he had come to control one of the most powerful Trading Companies in the Empire.
Of course their taking command of the company was met with opposition. Many of the merchant who were of noble birth didn't take to kindly to a farm boy becoming the head of the company. In fact they found it downright insulting. Some of the noble merchants jumped ship and joined other companies, whiles others sucked it up and continued with their work.
It wasn't until the week prior that events took a turn for the worst. At night a group of men wearing dark cloaks and masks burned one of the Company's store houses to the ground. Along with that, Milo merchants were beaten in the street and stalls destroyed. This event became known as the Italica Market Wars, a series of conflicts between rival merchant companies vying for control and say of the Italica government.
"We got Darius's goons running around the city burning down our store houses, killing our merchants, getting comfortable with Clan Formal, and now you're telling me that we are losing our caravans to bandit raids?"
The man standing across from Marious nervously answered.
"Y-yes sir."
Marious slammed his fist on the desk. "That's unacceptable!"
"Sir, we're trying our best to retaliate but our hands are tied. Our men are busy fighting Crispin Trading Company in the streets, and the Italica city watch doesn't have the men to deal with the bandits."
"Hire mercenaries then, this Company has stood strong since the founding of Italica. I will not let it collapse under my command."
"Yes sir." The company officer replied, he turned and left the room passing a Demi-Human on the way out.
The Demi-Human, a fox Girl, looked back at the man who had just walked out.
"I think you give the Captain a hard time."
"Sophia, I pay him to guard my assets, in recent days he's failed at his job."
Sophia sat down across from Marious, though only age fifteen she held the third highest position in the Company, she managed the trade caravan on the surface as well as the more shady side of the Company.
"Well at least he is trying."
"Trying is not good enough."
Sophia shrugged. "If you say so boss."
"So why are you here? You only come to me if you need something, well used too. If you want funds go to Lucious, he's the finance officer now."
"Nope, got somethin' for you this time. One of my informants has told me of some… interesting figures who just arrived in town. Right now they're held up in one of our fronts."
"More of Darius's men?"
"That's what I thought, but then I was told that they were carrying the same weapons as the ones used by the outlanders at Alnus."
Marious raised an eyebrow.
"What are you getting at Sophia?"
"I'm saying we might find a friend in these outlanders."
"Kid, you've had some crazy ideas but this one, it just can't be done. You're talking about the men who wiped out the Imperial army in two days and the Allied Army in Four."
"Good thing we ain't the Empire then." Sophia replied with a grin.
"Fine, you have my permission. Just don't do anything rash."
"Don't worry sir, I'll take Alvar with me."
Alpine Highway, 14:35, Special Region
The Vehicles of Recon Team one lumbered down the road, the song Here I Go Again droned on over the platoon net. Early that morning they had left the town of Kester and had made good headway back to Alnus. They had passed by the old missions a few minutes earlier and were now on a straight shot home.
"Three Actual, this is Recon one."
Nathaniel picked up the radio. "This is Three Actual, send it."
"Slight detour, command wants us to provide security for Recon Team Five."
"What the hell for?"
"It seems they picked up a decent sized group of refugees."
"Copy that Recon One, out."
"No rest for the wicked."
"You ever have to do this sort of thing Sergeant Kaiser?"
"If you're talking about recon and convoy escorts then yes I have."
"Well let's get this job over with."
"Amen."
There was silence for a few minutes as the Humvee continued to roll down the highway. Nathaniel pulled out his field guide and began drawing in the corner of the pages. After he a drawn in a couple of pages he flipped through the drawing and watched as two stick figures fought with swords.
XXXXX
Within the several hours the members of the first recon team had finally reached their objective. They had seriously misjudged how far out the fifth recon team would be, or the number of refugees in tow.
Countless horse drawn wagons dotted the road below them, fanned out and stretched thin were the vehicles of the fifth recon team. A couple of HMVs and Humvees, a Type-82 and a LAV-25. Thoe the recon team had Japanese members didn't mean they were lead by them. Recon Team Five was lead by Marines.
The M2 Bradley "This Machine" once more took point for first recon. Stephen looked through the commander sight switching between the different zoom variables.
"Twelve O'clock, there they are Mike."
"Yeah I see 'em sergeant, fuck that's a lot of wagons."
"Keep an eye on the horizon, whatever it is that drove these people from their homes must've been big." Stephen said.
"Huh? Yo sarge, three o'clock top of the hill, that what I think it is?" Michael asked.
Stephen once more leaned in and looked through the commander's sight. Just visible at the top of the hill was the profile of an M60s commander's cupola.
"Well shit, big brother's watching."
"What?"
"Nothing Parker. Keep driving."
Jared shrugged before focusing back on driving. Several seconds later Lieutenant Kita's voice crackled over the radio.
"Weasel Three, this is Recon one actual. Stay here and provide overwatch."
"Copy that Actual, we got your back." Stephen replied. The Bradley lurched to a stop near the crest of the hill, making sure that only the turret was visible.
Stephen looked through the commander's sight again, he watched as one of the Marine M60s crest the hill, scanned the countryside with its turret before backing off the hill. The bradley's traversed right and faced the crest of another hill, there sat another two M60 tanks.
"What's got them so spooked they sent tanks?"
Stephen looked over at his gunner. "I don't know."
At the bottom of the hill the rest of Recon one closed in on the wagon train. The train was more or less moving at a snail's pace, the task force vehicles that flaked the wagons moved at a walking pace. The countless horses and wagons kicked up a dust cloud in their wake.
The lead HMV of Recon one lumbered to a halt alongside one of the Marine vehicles. Lieutenant Kita stepped out of the passenger seat and surveyed his surroundings before making his way over to one the rifleman standing next to the road.
"Private."
The young marine turned around to see who had called to him.
"Yeah."
"Where's your commanding officer?"
"Front of the column." The marine replied turning back to monitor the wagon train.
Daisuke turned around to face his own men who had begun to dismount. He singled out the turret gunner of an American humvee.
"You, Specialist fifty cal."
"It's O'Hare Sir."
"Whatever, run to the front of the column and tell the leader of Recon Five to get over here."
Allen mumbled to himself as he slid down from the turret and left the humvee. As soon as he cleared the door he took off running towards the front of the wagon train, his M16 bouncing against his shoulder as he ran. As he neared the front of the wagon train he saw an officer and several NCOs standing around a humvee, Allen slowed his pace and approached the officer.
"Sorry to interrupt sir." Allen started, the Marine Captain looked up from his map.
"What do you need Specialist?"
"Lieutenant Kita from recon one wants to talk to you."
The captain raised a brow. "He had you run all the way up here for that?"
"Yes sir."
"Alright, you go back there and tell that fish head of a bitch, to carry his Jap ass up here if he wants to talk. Use those exact words or I'll kick your ass Specialist."
Allen smiled. "Understood Captain.
He turned around and sprinted back towards his own unit, Allen took note of the people in the column, they were nothing more than farmers and villagers from the surrounding towns. It didn't take long for the Specialist to meet up with his unit, Allen trudged over to Daisuke.
"Sir, the commander of Recon Five said to tell you to carry your Jap ass up there if you want to talk, his words not mine."
A look of shock appeared on Daisuke's face, the men around him began to laugh at the bluntness of the message. It took a second for Daisuke to compose himself, he adjusted the strap on his rifle and cleared his throat.
"Well then, better not keep him waiting then."
Daisuke sauntered off towards the front of the wagon train with several of his men trailing behind him. Lieutenant Wheeler approached Allen, the expression on his face showed that he was anything but pleased.
"O'Hare."
"Yes sir?" Allen replied with a grin.
"Don't ever do that again, it's one thing to insult an officer behind his back and another to do it to his face."
The grin disappeared from Allen's face. "I understand Lieutenant, but as I said those were not my word."
"That's no excuse Specialist, you chose to say it, ultimately the blame falls on you not the captain of Recon Team Five. Now get back to your squad, tell Sergeant Smith to take a Humvee recon the rear of column I want to know what's chasing these guys."
"Yes sir." Allen replied turning to run back to his vehicle.
"And tell Mulligan to stop complaining every time Monroe plays a song." Nathaniel shouted, Allen turned around and gave a thumbs up his grin returning.
Nathaniel watched as Allen returned to his unit before following behind Daisuke and his men who by now were a considerable distance ahead of him. He glanced over at the refugees, he knew who or whatever had done this had to have been something big in order to drive off this many people. But whatever it was, if it decided to go after these people, it was in for one hell of a beat down.
It didn't take long for him to meet up with the leader of recon five. The marine captain was speaking with Daisuke when Nathaniel walked up.
"We've got a LAV, couple of Humvees, couple of HMVs and that thing y'all claim is a commander vehicle. Now our ace in the hole if a platoon of Patton's courtesy of the Second Tank Battalion, Delta Co. Now that's more than enough to fend off an attack, the problem is that we don't got enough men to over our blind spot."
Daisuke rubbed the back of his neck. "You want us to plug the gaps?"
"Exactly." The captain glanced over at Nathaniel and extended a hand. "Captain Frank Walker."
Nathaniel shook the captain's hand. "Second Lieutenant Nathaniel Wheeler. We got a Bradley on overwatch a couple hundred meters back and I sent scouts to make sure you're not being followed."
"Good, have the Bradley coordinate with the tanks. I need a couple of your vehicles to take up the rear and others to scout ahead."
"Consider it done Captain." Daisuke replied.
"One more thing Captain, do you know what drove these people away?" Nathanael asked.
Walker shrugged. "Tried questioning these people and all I get are mixed reports, some say anywhere from a company to an entire damn legion of Imperial soldiers, others say it's the northern tribal warriors."
"So we're fighting Romans and Huns?"
XXXXX
Allen leaned against the M2 browning in front of him as he scanned the horizon for movement. Down below, Connor and Rayland were once more arguing about music, this time however it was Allen's cassette tape that had caused it. Amarillo by Morning played softly over the radio almost being drowned out by the arguing scouts.
"You're hopeless, you don't like rock, you don't like country, what the hell do you like?"
"Yo, I like country just not George Strait." Mulligan replied to Raylands attack.
"Shit boy, now we getin' somewhere. Now I for one don't like it but you don't see me throwin' a fit."
"Yeah whatever, fuckin child toucher."
"Eh, fuck you!"
James shook his head and chuckled as he continued driving.
"Hey, you see anything O'Hare?"
"Nothin' yet sarge. You know, it just dawned on me. They sent four guys with two machine guns to go pick a fight with what is presumably a much larger force."
"That's NATO boy, tell me when you get somethin'."
"Roger that Sarge."
Rayland pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his blouse pocket, he tapped the pack against his hand until a loose cigarette came out. He the cigarette in his mouth and lit it, he shook the empty pack before throwing it out the window.
"Shit."
Mulligan looked away from the window and over to his friend. "Huh?"
"Out of cigarettes."
"Go ask Doc Reed, he always finds a way to scrounge somethin' up."
Allen looked down into the compartment.
"Hey Sarge."
"Yeah."
"Shouldn't we be worried 'bout our medic being able to procure well everything?"
"As long as he ain't tradin' dope for it I see no problem, hell it even comes in handy. Ask that boy to find you a book he'll get you a copy and three others like it."
"Yo he's like fuckin' Radar, give him a chance and he'll smuggle a Humvee home."
Allen laughed. "I wouldn't doubt it, he's been-" Allen stopped mid sentence and looked over the horizon, something had caught his attention.
He lifted his goggles of his face and rested them on his helmet. He brought up his binoculars and gazed through them, scanning the horizon he had caught side of an imperial force.
"Fuck, contact front! Looks like about two companies worth of infantry!"
"Range?!" James yelled back stopping the humvee on the crest of a small rise.
"Hold on, 2,400 yards and closing. I don't think they know were here."
"Yeah, but they know the convoy came through here." Rayland replied jumping out of the humvee, he kicked out the bi-pod on his M60 and set up on the ground before racking a round into the chamber. Rayland was quickly followed by Connor who by now was kneeling down next to him and aiming down the sights of his rifle.
James grabbed the radio out of the humvee.
"Recon one actual, this is Combat Three Bravo. We've got eyes on the pursuing force, going the rate you are they'll be on top of you within an hour or two."
"Copy that seven, you're clear to engage. We're sending support your way. Out."
James put the receiver back in the humvee.
"O'Hare, fire free."
Allen pulled back on the charging handle and let his slide forward with a clang. Within a few seconds of the order Allen had ranged the target and began firing in bursts. The rounds from the fifty cal slammed into the front rank of imperial soldiers knocking down the first few soldiers in the ranks. James looked up at Allen who continued to fire in bursts then back over at the advancing enemy, he called up to Allen trying to get his attention.
"Hey!"
Allen continued to fire.
"Hey!" James called again waving his arms.
"Huh!?" Allen replied between bursts.
"It's a machine gun!"
Allen let loose another burst.
"What!?"
"A machine gun!"
"Oh, Ok!"
Allen settled in behind the M2 before releasing a barrage of fifty caliber rounds. Instead of three or four soldiers falling down, this time they fell like bowling pins. The enemy scattered looking for any amount of cover they could get to in time. The rounds from the M2 kicked up clods of dirt and tore limbs. The ambush was working in the favor of the scouts, until an ominous click sounded from the Browning.
"Ah shit!"
"What's going on O'Hare?" James asked walking over to the Humvee.
"Stoppage Sarge."
Allen pulled the charging handle back before sliding it forward again, Allen fired and got another click.
"You gotta be kidding be!"
The enemy began to reform and continue their march towards the scouts and the wagon train.
"Clear that jam O'Hare, Monroe you're up."
"On it."
Immediately, the lighter more rapid sound of 7.62 rounds took the place of the silent fifty cal. Connor tapped Raylands helmet and pointed off towards an enemy unit moving on the scouts.
"Yo Ray, get those sons a bitches on the right!"
Rayland shifted his field of fire and laid into the enemy soldiers. One by one the soldiers fell.
"Alright, eleven O'clock we got more of them moving up!"
"Yeah I see them!"
Once more a string of tracers lept from the barrel of Rayland's gun. Rayland continued to suppress the advancing imperials constantly shifting his field of fire. He heard Allen yell something but couldn't quite make it out, immediately after Rayland heard the heavy thumping of the fifty cal and watched as red tracers flew over head.
Rayland stopped firing for a second and yelled over his shoulder. "Took you long enough!"
With the fifty back up and running along Rayland picking off the stragglers, the enemy formation quickly collapsed. The four scouts watched as the remaining Imperial soldiers retreated back across the field.
"Jesus Christ." Allen muttered. "Do these bastards ever learn? Every time they fight us they go home with more than a bloody nose."
"Hell if I know." James responded as two Humvees drove up behind them. The two vehicles rolled to a stop several meters away from the scouts, several marines disembarked one of the Humvees while Sergeant Kaiser, Travis, Lisa along with some others from Recon one hopped out of the other.
Kaiser paced over to James. "Smith, what happened?"
"Few hundred Imps came over the hill, O'Hare and Moore laid into them with the Ma deuce and the Sixty, forced them to fall back, nothin' we couldn't handle Top."
Kaiser looked over the torn up fields littered with dead imperials. Near by Lisa was snapping pictures of the battlefield and the soldiers that held the ground.
"Nothing you couldn't handle." Kaiser replied. "We'll that's one problem off our hands."
Alnus Airbase, 15:49, Special Region
Captain Masson leaned against the steel frame of one of the many hangars constructed at Alnus. The airbase no longer housed just the pilots and aircraft of the One Thirty Six. Japanese and American helicopter units also called the base home. The newest addition to the airfield were a squadron of F-4 Phantom II's from the Third Air Wing.
Masson watched as one of the Japanese F-4s touched down on the fresh tarmac. He lit up a cigarette as he watched the pilot climbed down the side of the craft. He was so fixated on the F-4 that he didn't notice Wallace walking up behind him.
"Sir."
"Huh? Yeah, whatcha need?"
"Major wants your testimony on the Recon Three incident. Seems like it's already causing quite the stir back earthside." Wallace said.
Masson continued to watch as the Phantom was towed back into its hangar.
"Sir?"
"Yeah I heard ya." Masson replied turning around and trudged off towards the command post with Wallace right on his heels.
"So what do you think?"
"'Bout what Ensign?"
"The Jap fighters, they're still using those old F-4s." Wallace said matching pace with his CO.
"Phantom's a reliable bird and in the hands of a good pilot an excellent fighter."
"You speak from experience?"
Masson exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"Yep, when I was assigned to Twelfth flying missions over Vietnam."
"You shoot anyone down?" Wallace asked.
"Yes."
"How many?"
At this point Masson began to get annoyed.
"Jesus kid, do you want my service record?"
"No sir, I'm just curious."
Masson sighed.
"I shot down two, both MiG 21's."
The walked in silence as they approached the command post, a prefab building with a sheet metal roof, nothing as fancy as what ground pounders had at the top of the hill. Masson pulled open the door and walked down the hall towards the Major's office. Masson knocked on the door and was immediately met with a reply.
"Come in."
Masson and Wallace entered the room, standing around a desk were Hawke, Fisher, Major Warner the commander of the American fighters in the Special region, and a two Japanese men wearing neat black suits.
"Captain Masson, I'll get straight to the point. These two men are from the Japanese ministry of Justice, they are investigating the Roche hill incident and would like to question you and your flight."
Masson cast a suspicious glance at the two men.
"Alright, what do you need." Masson answered. One of the Japanese men began to speak.
"It'll only take a minute Captain. Now first could you tell us what happened?"
Masson raised an eyebrow.
"I assume you've read the report?"
"We have, we just want to confirm it with you."
"Shifty Nip bastard."
"We sortied at zero six forty heading south, at zero seven fifty nine we got the call from recon three that they needed help, at full burn we arrived at Roche at zero eight fifteen and quickly engaged. Wallace and I made the first pass attacking with anti tank missiles followed by a pass by Hawke and Fisher using the same ordinance." Masson said before being interrupted by one of the men.
"And that's when the dragon went down, correct?"
"No sir, we waited for the dust to clear so we could get a visual, ends up the dragon survived the first attack. Wallace had the target and followed up with a paveway bomb taking out the target."
"Captain Masson, the task force had killed dragons with little effort before. Why did this one require four high end fighters?"
"Well sir, this one dwarfed the others by a metric fuck ton and burned villages as a hobby."
The other pilots chuckled at the remark, even Major Warner could help but smile.
"And Recon Team Three, did they do all they could to defend the refugees?"
"You would have to bring that up with the leader of Recon Three."
The man looked at his partner before turning to Major Warner.
"We're done here." The man said pacing out into the hall.
The men in the room waited until the Japanese investigators left the building.
"I don't think they like us." Fisher said
"Yeah well they from the party that didn't want us to go through the gate in the first place, let alone have Americans here." Warner said sitting down behind his desk.
"This going to come back on us major?"
"No Wallace it won't, they're too busy trying to through their own guys under the bus to worry about us."
Italica, 18:59, Special Region
Sophia stood outside the tavern with a band of hired mercenaries clustered around her. She had come with business proposition and mostly peaceful intentions, if the outsiders threatened her or her company her men would make quick work of them in the close quarters environment. Besides they had the homefield advantage. To the everyday citizen or passerby the tavern was a place in which mercenaries, thugs, or travelers who didn't want to be found took refuge. In reality however it was a front for one of the largest smuggling operations in the Empire.
Ten years back the Empire had been trading with a small Island nation and vassal state to the far east of the continent. The Island nation, known as the Kingdom of Luumus, navy had been the primary protector of the Empire's trade routes in the east sea area. After a long and costly war fighting pirates and rival nations the Luumus had run out food, ships, and lives. One night, a Luumus General with support of many in the military and the civilian populace overthrew their king.
The coup was a success and Luumus quickly declared its independence from the Empire. To add insult to injury, Luumus had cut off all trade to the Empire, no longer did goods travel between the two nations. This situation had left the Merchant elite in both countries in a bind. The former guild master of Milo trading on the other hand saw the profit in the situation. Meeting with merchants from Luumus who were also hurting from the recent embargo, he was able to hammer out a deal and twelve smuggling routes were opened.
The goods that made it through were then sold at a way higher price on the black market almost four times the price. The back alley tavern was a front for the Luumus goods that made it into Italica. The outsiders had unknowingly taken refuge in snakes nest.
One of the mercenaries, a giant of a man named Alvar, stood near Sophia. Alvar was a veteran of the Imperial military having seen combat in many of the Empire recent expansion wars. He even went on to commanding his own company before he left the Imperial army. After several months of traveling and odd jobs the old legionary had found himself employed to the young beast girl standing next to him.
"The men who probed the area beforehand have said the outsiders won't be expecting us." Alvar said in his typical rough and commanding voice.
"Good, then we have little to worry about." Sophia replied before pacing toward the entrance of the tavern.
"Your carelessness and arrogance will get you killed kid."
"You say something Alvar?"
"You should exercise caution kid."
"Weren't you the one who said they're not expecting us? We'll be fine."
Alvar's words weren't unfounded, on a rooftop overlooking alley Janek had sat laid there motionless for the last several hours. He had covered himself with a cut up burlap sacks, only a small part of his rifle and scope could be seen. Janek had first alerted his comrades when he saw several men wearing cloaks and armed with short swords case the area. He radioed Donavan and within seconds the ODA had racked rounds into their weapons and prepared to repel an attack.
"Kapitán, unknown is about to enter the building. Young girl, maybe fourteen, fifteen years old."
"Copy that Russian, anyone else preparing to enter."
"Yes sir, big son of a bitch, bodyguard maybe."
"Maybe they want to talk?"
"Or maybe they want to gut us."
Janek adjusted his scope, lining up crosshairs of his M-14 up with the heart of one of the mercenaries.
"Russian, think positive."
"I am positive Mendez, positive that I can drop this guy."
"Focus Janek, keep me updated."
"Yes Kapitán, the two are just talking right now." Janek replied shifting his rifle back up to the two at the door. The girl had opened the door and walked in with the man following close behind them. "Well sir, they just entered the building."
"Yeah no shit. Higgin's tell them we come in peace."
Janek once more took aim at one of the mercenaries as he listened to his commander on the radio.
"She wants us to do what?... Forget it… I don't care if she won't take no for answer, unless she knows the address of the great leader, what he eats for breakfast, and when he goes for his nice little strolls in the park, the answer is no!… You tellin' me she does know… she's got information on many of the nobles, what is she fuckin' Stasi?... A merchant?... Alright fine, favors for favors, we protect your assets you give us intel… It's a deal."
A few minutes passed before Janek got back on the radio,
"You didn't forget about me Kapitán? Right?"
"Stay up there Janek, I don't quite trust our new." Donavan stopped to find the right words. "Partners."
"Understood." Janek shifted in his spot getting ready for another several uncomfortable hours.
Alpine Highway, 22:46, Special Region
Countless fires light up the area around the Alpine highway. The refugees had bedded down for the night as their new found guardians watched over them. Near one of the many fires, Allen sat with a notebook and pencil in hand. In his note book he had begun sketching a comic, something he had picked up during his first deployment in Germany. The comic was of two cartoon soldier dressed in BDUs and toting around and M16s standing next to a person with dog ears and tail. One of the soldier gave the the beast person a chocolate bar while his buddy asked a question Allen had heard countless time since they picked up Lia in Kester.
"Does chocolate kill dog people?"
The two cartoon soldiers soon got their answer in the next frame when the dog person fell over with its tongue sticking out and x eyes. One of the cartoon soldiers turned to his buddy and replied.
"Yep."
Allen heard the click of a camera and the winding of film, he turned his head to see Lisa standing over him.
"What you doing Specialist?"
"Drawing."
"Anything in particular."
Allen shook his. "Nah, not really."
"Mind if I take a look?"
"Knock yourself out." Allen replied handing the notebook to the war correspondent.
Lisa looked at Allen most recent drawings before flipping back through to the beginning. After a few minutes of reading and plenty of confused looks and genuine laughter, Lisa closed the notebook.
"You mind if I send some of these back to HQ?"
"Huh?"
"Get a couple of them published in UPI news paper, give the readers more of an idea of how you guys think."
"Appreciate the thought ma'am, but a few crude comics ain't gonna help the public understand us." Allen replied.
"Still, I want to see them published." Lisa insisted, Allen shrugged.
"Alright, do what you want."
Lisa snapped a few pictures of the comics.
"Thanks Specialist."
"Yeah whatever."