Chapter 1 –Back into the fight

"Three minutes to touch down Staff Sergeant!" the helicopter loadmaster yelled over the roar of the machine's churning blades to the steely eyed Marine who sat beside him scanning the city below him from the rear ramp of the CH46 Sea King.

"Roger that," the soldier acknowledged then turned to his men, "Three minutes people, tighten it up."

The Marines in the helicopter began to adjust buckles on packs, helmets, ammo carriers, basically anything that could slip or move for the dozenth time. So began the ritual soldiers had been doing for hundreds of years, the deep breath before the plunge.

Staff Sergeant Mike Nantz took it all in hardly able to believe he was in this situation. Seventy-two hours before he'd submitted his papers for retirement, sure it was time to move on and try to deal with the ghosts of his past that haunted him. Now the future not only seemed pretty uncertain, he wasn't even sure if Camp Pendleton where his paperwork had been submitted stood any more. He wondered if his friend First Sergeant John Roy had survived.

He'd tried to keep those thoughts out of his mind as he absently ran a finger through the cleft of his granite chin, to lock them away in a place to go later. But Mike Nantz was human, not a machine, despite the image the United States Marine Corp tried to project. His thoughts drifted to those who'd fallen: Martinez, Stavro, Mattola, Mr. Rincon…at the thought of the Hispanic man who'd been shot trying to help out during the fight on the freeway his mind gravitated towards the others, Hector, the girls and Michele. He lingered on her, remembering their touch before he roped down from the helicopter, sure he'd die and suddenly sad that he'd not see her again. Her scream as he left the chopper echoed in his mind. With everything going on why was the fact he hadn't seen her before they'd left concern him the most? Why after everything he'd gone through in the woman-department the last few years did he continue to think about Michele?

There, he'd named her even, she wasn't just a woman, or the woman, she was Michele. He cursed at himself for feeling this way, something he'd sworn he'd never do again. Hector was one thing; he was a kid, that didn't count, but Michele, that presented a problem. Maybe he'd die today and not have to worry about it. Happy thoughts!

"Thirty seconds!"

The helicopter's engines whined as the power surged preparing to land as fast as possible to avoid any potential enemy fire.

Mike had to put that thought away, despite his desire to linger on her face and features: the flowing dark hair, rough and tumble he'd heard some of the young guys describe, the smile, then there were her deep, dark eyes that held a depth of emotion within. A familiar churn of emotion and adrenaline began to build in his stomach, nervous energy, fear.

No time for that right now.

It's said that those who go into combat and aren't afraid are either lying or crazy. He was neither, he was scared, with the same fear everyone else on the helicopter endured. Nervous energy surged through the Sea King. They were going back into Los Angeles to attempt to re-establish a beachhead to retake the city. With the destruction of the alien command-and-control station the invaders had lost their air support plus it seemed their ability to co-ordinate their activities evening the odds a bit. But the fight was still going to be hard and costly.

Mike wondered again if he'd made a mistake going in so soon. Maybe they should have rested a bit, debriefed, but the adrenaline of the moment had him gathering ammo and going back in when he saw the Marines at the new base moving out. The others had instinctively followed. The wound he'd taken fighting against the drone the previous day began to hurt again. Even worse, he felt light-headed.

No time for that either.

The Marine helicopter powered up to land, bumping to an abrupt halt on the edge of the runway near a hanger whose roof was half collapsed at the Whiteman Airport in San Fernando. This was where the human forces would begin their campaign to retake what had been abandoned earlier. What had seemed impossible had become a reality thanks to the efforts of Nantz and his team.

The sound of explosions and light weapon fire on the edge of the airport property greeted the arrival of the newly minted heroes of Los Angeles. Despite the steady chop-chop sound of helicopters taking off and landing the sound of the reality of the war they faced greeted the Marines.

There was no time to think about what had just happened the battle to re-take Los Angeles was underway.

As the chopper touched down Marines simultaneously leaped out trotting over to a command post set up in an intact hanger. Groups were quickly being put together then sent into battle. Soldiers from a dozen helicopters formed up in a semi-circle around an easel with a large tactical map of the area. A Marine major waited impatiently for all the newly arrived troops to be sorted out so he could brief them on the situation then send them to join in the fight. He had a field dressing on the left side of his face with burn marks evident around the edges of it but his eyes were clear as a blue sky. He spotted the Staff Sergeant in the crowd.

"Nantz, what are you doing here?" he asked brusquely.

"Getting back in the fight sir," Mike responded, recognizing the officer who was from the 2-5.

"Outstanding," the major affirmed with a nod of his head. Turning his attention immediately to the rest he began to brief them. "Okay, you men will form a battle group under Lt. Sanford here. We're attempting to push the aliens away from the airport to use it as a staging area for our operations. We now hold it so we're moving into the next phase. Men, help is coming," he declared to encourage the troops. "The 221st Cavalry Regiment from the Nevada National Guard is on the way and will be here in a few hours."

"Tanks from Nevada sir?" Lt. Sanford asked sarcastically.

"M1A1 ABRAMS tanks from Nevada," the major responded testily. "Listen up, most of our assets in California have been either destroyed or lost. So we've got units that have been mobilized from other states and are being moved here to join the fight as fast as they can. We're not in this fight alone." He then fixed the marine lieutenant with a withering look then added, "We're lucky we can get them or we'd be screwed."

Satisfied there'd be no more interruptions the bald officer continued, "They're being trucked in on the Golden State Freeway. They've got good air cover from an attack helicopter battalion from the Arizona National Guard", he looked hard at Lt. Sanford who avoided the pointed gaze, "but we need to secure an off-ramp for from the freeway and provide a safe corridor for them to get here and get in the fight." Pointing to a street on the tactical map he declared, "Our job is to provide it along Osborne Street here so we're going to take and hold this road so they can get here."

The major allowed the men to look over the map and get their bearings before he continued. "Now there are aliens in the neighborhood. We don't know how many though. Fortunately we didn't have too hard a fight for the airport but as you can hear, we're not alone," as if too emphasize the point a large explosion on the edge of the airport erupted. "We have a couple of gunships providing air support but for the most part we're on our own. Remember, fire to the right of where their hearts would be if they had one, that's the weakest part of their armor." He gave a nod of acknowledgement to Staff Sergeant Nantz for it had been his efforts during their rescue mission that had provided this vital information.

For his part, Mike was happy to see it had filtered out already. So much happening in so little time. He couldn't believe how his life had changed in less then a week. But there was no time for such musings; again he would be leading people into combat.

"Questions?" the major asked rhetorically not expecting any. Everyone there knew what needed to be done and the sense of urgency that went with it. "Get it done Marines. Retreat…"

"Hell!" the other Marines erupted.

Lt. Sanford led the composite combat team out of the airport and onto Osborne Street. Besides those that had come with Staff Sergeant Nantz there were another three dozen Marines from several other units. A real dog's breakfast.

Passing the intersection of San Fernando Road the bodies of several soldiers brought the reality of what they were up against to the forefront. Looking down the road abandoned vehicles and several civilian bodies amplified the point.

It was very quiet, not a sound could be heard. The sun beat down adding to the humidity of the August day. None noticed the heat though. The grim sights before them and difficult task at hand kept their focus. To their left the charred remnants of what appeared to be a police station continued to smoke. On the right some form of auto shop stood untouched but empty. Nothing moved though the Marines had difficulty seeing through smoke from something burning outside of their sight.

"Okay, we need to clear the road. First two teams provide cover, the rest get those vehicles and bodies out of the way," Lt. Sanford ordered, taking the opportunity of the break to remove his helmet and run a hand through his sweaty close-cropped blond hair.

Corporal Lee Imlay and Corporal Kevin Harris, both survivors along with Staff Sergeant Nantz of the mission to destroy the enemy command-and-control ship, looked at the officer nervously as the others prepared to carry out the assignment.

"Sir, we might want to rethink this course of action," Mike responded politely.

"We have to get the way clear for those tanks Staff Sergeant. We have our orders," the young officer countered.

"I agree but their carriers are big enough to push through this stuff no problem," the NCO stated. Then pointing to several more dead Marines lying beside the closest group of vehicles he added, "Besides, look at them. What do you think they were doing? We know the aliens are still around. It looks to me like they're waiting for us and we know they love ambushes. Better we get off the street and go property to property."

Sanford opened his mouth to rebut the statement but checked it as the logic of the staff sergeant's suggestion sunk in. He grabbed his radio to give new orders.

"You might not want to use that either sir," Mike offered, putting his hand on the unit to stop the action. "They can trace us using our comms. Voice and hand signals are best."

The tension of the moment caused the young officer to snap. "Listen, I know you've had some experience with these things but I've been in the fight too. This is my command. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Mike responded evenly. But he fixed the crew-cutted officer with a steely gaze. "Let's get going, we don't have a lot of time."

Corporal James Lockett, yet another member of the original team, sighed audibly and shook his head but kept his thoughts to himself.

Lt. Sanford broke the group into two teams. He led one, Mike the other and they split to each side of the road cautiously beginning to probe forward.

"Lockett, Harris, point," Mike ordered. "Watch the roofs."

Moving carefully forward, weapons covering all possible points of ambush, they cleared the first block and crossed into a residential area.

"We've got to push back to the next street," Mike observed, "give the convoy a bit of a buffer zone. We go house to house from here."

He halted the advance and looked to see if Lt. Sanford had caught what they were doing. The officer continued to timidly push forward oblivious to what the other part of his battle group was doing. Mike swore softly to himself. Having the others hold their position the sergeant ran across the road to share the thought with Sanford. The officer agreed to the logic of the observation so arrayed his force the same way.

Returning to his section and resuming the steady advance, Mike felt a bead of sweat run down his back. His combat instinct was going off the chart as his heart rate increased.

He knew they were being watched, so the exercise became not a matter of if but when. Looking back Mike could see other Marines following their line of advance from the airport. He knew they weren't alone but it was small comfort since they were first in line.

Putting that out of his head, Mike focused on the front and task of moving to secure the off-ramp two and a half blocks away. If he were driving his Mustang it would take him about 30 seconds to get there, a minute and a half if he caught a light, but now he wondered if the two hours they had would be enough time.

Moving forward the combat team cleared the first house and then the second. Everyone could feel the tension, it hung thick enough to cut.

Approaching the third house on the block the distinct sound of an alien grenade launcher spooling up suddenly could be heard high and off to the right.

"Incoming!" Lockett yelled.

The others responded instinctively. All but one young marine moved and hit the ground, guns ready.

As the alien with the launcher came into view on the edge of the roof next door to fire Harris shot first, shredding it with his M249 Squad Automatic Weapon. The creature went down firing its grenades harmlessly into the air.

The alien ambush tactic had become predictable to the experienced Marines who had witnessed them using similar methods before.

Another of the 8 foot tall creatures came from around a fence on the other side of the building loosing a burst of its arm-mounted machine gun into the frozen soldier. The man crumpled to the ground.

"Doc, check him out," Mike ordered as he squeezed off three rounds from his M4A1 carbine hitting the alien in the center of the chest causing it to spin around.

Corpsman Jibril 'Doc' Adukwu ran to the fallen Marine, despite the increasing fire around him to look for life.

Several other aliens appeared out of hiding spots to engage the marines. At the same time bursts of six-barreled machine fire ripped from the roof of the police station on the other side of the street they'd passed.

"They're behind us too!" Tech Sergeant Elena Santos screamed as she swiveled her M16 around to return fire.

"Santos, take two guys with you and clear out those snipers," Mike ordered, "we need to keep pressing forward. Rally at the next property."

The Latino Air Force observer, who had shown herself to be a pretty good infanteer, grabbed a pair of the new Marines by his web gear and hauled him into a position to eliminate the threat. Mike knew their rear was safe with her out there.

"Staff Sergeant, he's dead," Doc yelled in his heavy African accent to Mike, confirming what he'd already expected about the young soldier who'd been caught in the initial attack.

"Okay, grab your rifle and get into the fight," he countered.

Aliens poured out of both sides of the home, weapons blazing, trying to catch the Marines in a pincer move that would grind them up. Fortunately for the humans with the tactic becoming predictable the experienced soldiers in the battle group responded right away. Imlay pumped two grenades from his M203 launcher into one group. The whump, whump of the explosions and flying alien body parts showed that group's momentum had been stopped. The steady fire on the other flank from Lockett and Harris held the other ones in check. Tracer rounds flew back and forth like angry fireflies looking for a place to land. Another of the new Marines went down under a barrage of fire from an alien machine gun. Despite the volume of fire Doc Adukwu went to the young soldier dragging him to safety and miraculously not getting hit in the process.

The alien's progress checked, Mike rallied his men. Leading the way, M4A1 carbine blazing, they counterattacked pushing the invaders back. One backpedaling alien crashed into a greenhouse in the backyard of the property that quickly became a shower of thousands of pieces of glass when a high explosive grenade was thrown in.

The remainder of the ambushers turned and ran as fast as they could on their spindly legs due to the ferocity of the counter attack. But at over 8 feet tall they made great targets and several more had their cylindrical heads blown off.

Then Mike saw what he was looking for. Attempting to sneak away in the shadows was the leader of the group. Unfortunately, in its panic it bumped it's head on the lower slope of the house's sun porch giving it away.

"There," Mike yelled, "officer caste. Don't let him get away!"

At close quarters and standing nearly 9 1/2 feet tall it became too hard to miss. Despite its four mechanical legs the alien never had a chance.

All the weapons of the Marines turned on it blasting the officer into bits and pieces.

With the other aliens totally on the run, Lockett along with several of the other Marines kept up the chase, firing and moving.

"No, no, hold up, hold up," Mike yelled, effectively halting the advance and allowing the few remaining aliens to break contact and escape.

Lockett fell back to the rally point but the hot-headed African-American turned to confront his Sergeant, eyes blazing. But the sound of battle to their left checked the corporal's angry words. There was more going on here then their own personal scores to settle. The remnant of their platoon was under attack and they seemed to be fairing badly. If Lockett had continued like he'd wanted, their whole section would have run the risk of being cut off. He kicked the ground in anger at himself.

"Imlay, Lockett, with me. We're going to go and help the Lieutenant," Mike ordered, rather then speak to what had just happened. He figured the corporal had learned his lesson so didn't need to rub it in. "Harris, you're in charge. Hold here and wait for Santos to catch up. Doc, look after the wounded."

Knowing his orders would be carried out instantly Mike sprinted off with the other two men to try to help the beleaguered Marines who seemed to be getting pounded on the other side of the street. The same ambush tactic had been attempted by the aliens but this time with success. The promised air support hadn't arrived so they were on their own.

Moving forward, the three saw more infantry caste aliens taking up position, threatening to turn their flank. If that happened the forward momentum of the Marines would not only be checked but they could be broken and forced all the way back to the airport.

As time ticked on it seemed less and less likely that they would be able to open the vital road that the tanks needed to properly deploy. The whole offensive could collapse before it began.