Arc 2 Chapter 3: Operation Vanguard
Ramirez took a photo of his little sister and stared at it.
He thought about the moment, the moment he pulled the trigger. He could fucking shoot jihadis face to face. But her face, so innocent, so scared, so much like his sister. Fuck, he was a warrior and fighter. He wasn't supposed to feel like this about killing, was he? He hesitated to pull the trigger, what could have happened to one of his teammates if that was pointed at one of them… He could remember standing over her body moments after. Bu- fucking hell, what the fuck was he doing? He didn't know, no one knew the fuck they were doing in the fucking war. War was fucking messy, right? Who the actual fuck knew. Fuck! That shit was five months ago, why was he still thinking about it? He still remembered all the shit that went down in Iraq and Afghanistan, but nothing ever felt like this.
Nathan sighed and laid the picture back into his hiding place before someone found it and started jacking off to it. He got off his hammock and walked outside his Team's barracks.
They had finally mostly secured the local area from the X-Rays, with a few pockets remaining. It was all finally ending, after five months of hell.
NATO had been called in pretty quickly, America could have most likely taken care of it themselves, owing to their massive military, but casualties among them would have likely been much higher. The current numbers stood at around ten thousand military casualties, and rough estimates placed civilian casualties at over a hundred thousand. It was a miracle both numbers weren't higher.
During the span of five months, Nathan had seen entire towns blasted off the face of the earth, men eaten alive, the horrific wounds received from the so-called "Grimm" that had popped up. He had also heard much, much worse.
He knew the name, the capabilities of what he was fighting. Grimm? Fucking bullshit, you could kill the fuckers easily with some simple tactics and firepower. White Fang? Retards couldn't aim for shit and thought tactics were a joke.
Just when he thought he was going to get some rest, he heard rumors from around the unit, that they were going through the godforsaken portal. Apparently there had been a whole jostle about it in Congress, some liberal bullshit he supposed. He knew every single marine wanted to go through there and bring hell for what the Grimm and White Fang did, they were pissed at them. But not to the point where they would pass up their two-week leave. Anyways, not like they had a choice in that, the more pissed off a marine was the better they fought huh?.
Ramirez stepped out of his shitty tent and stepped out into the shitty world. For fuck's sake, he just wanted his leave already. He should go find out where the rest of the team was. They had all went to their individual affairs after the rather intense mission they had just came back on, they would probably be in the barracks. He sure as hell knew where McCraw would be.
The Corporal knew for sure where the hell McCraw would be, the Lance Corporal said he would be prepping the new JLTV with operational gear after the last one was completely and utterly destroyed.
And so Ramirez walked to where their JLTVs were. The JLTVs were a relatively new thing to everyone, having replaced the faithful Humvee as the motorized troop's best friend. They were lighter, faster, and had a completely new look, it also usually sported a remote-controlled turret. Ramirez's team was equipped with a remote-controlled automatic grenade launcher, allowing the gunner to fire safety within the vehicle, without being exposed.
There, Aaron McCraw himself sitting beside the JLTV with a disassembled weapon in front of him.
"Hey, Aaron! You done with that stuff yet?"
McCraw looked up from his labor. "Well Nathan, this Mark-Nineteen seems to be missing a part, and our JLTV needs some more stuff that I need to wrangle from supply."
"And how's that going?"
Aaron snorted. "If the Mark-Nineteen hadn't jammed, I would have had ten more coffees."
Ramirez sat down in front of McCraw. "Fucking supply specialists."
"Yep."
Ramirez sighed. "Look, Aaron, the mission wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault that the thing jammed on us, it wasn't your fault th-"
Aaron interrupted. "Look, I get it, it's your job to support your team, but I maintained this," he slapped the top of the weapon, "the night before, and there is no fucking way that it could jam in this environment. And, you know that man, I have no idea how it could have happened."
"Shit happens Aaron, we all know that. Now finish up with the JLTV and meet with the rest of the team at the barracks."
"Yeah, Nathan. I will."
Ramirez left the scene to go check on the rest of the team, leaving Aaron to do his work. He walked to the barracks, where inevitably, the rest of the team was. Stepping through the door, he saw the rambunctious Lance Corporal Evan Carter shooting the shit with the members of Team Two. Rabbit tweaking her backpack radio, Smithson sitting at a table cleaning his rifle, and Lopez studying a map while taking everything in.
"How are they taking it?" asked Nathan quietly.
"They're holding up fine so far," Maria said, "I'm worried about Carter, guy's either a fucking psycho or holding it in real good. I'm just worried about when he lets it out."
"You try talking to him?"
"Yeah, blew me off, in the real indirect way," she commented. "You go check up on them, they might be more willing to talk to you than me."
Maria seemed to be… spaced out, she normally seemed so focused and calm. What was going on in her head? "Hey, you okay?"
She shook her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go and check on the team for me."'
She was trying to steer the conversation away from herself, he would let it go, this time at least.
He grunted. "So be it."
He decided to walk up to Rabbit first.
"How you holding up Rabbit?" he asked as he sat down.
Her voice comes out dry and emotionless. "Fine."
"Bro that's some shit."
Despite being around the team for two years, she was surprised. "Sorry, what?"
"You heard me Rabbit, you hiding something, and I know it."
She started playing with her blonde hair, a habit of hers when she was nervous he noticed. She sighed. "Alright, fine, it's just been that this was my first combat action you know? I've been itching to get out and do stuff, I was turned down from any Afghanistan deployments, I just didn't expect, like, you know!" she threw her arms out in exasperation.
He had deployed two times before this, and what happened over there, stayed over there. But the level of shit that happened during his time here? This really was different from anything else in the sandbox.
"Look, I can get one of shrin-"
"Hey, Nathan, look, I can handle this you know. I'm just… scared." she said quietly. "Fuck, I'm scared of fucking up, fucking second woman in Force Recon, I can't fuck up here. I'm fucking scared of dy-"
"Shut up Rabbit."
She went quiet.
"Look Rabbit, at this point, you've proven yourself a capable asset, as good as any of us gay fucksticks, everyone you see in here?" he gestured. "They've had the same thoughts as you. I've been scared, believe it or not."
That got a light chuckle out of her.
"As cliché as it sounds, if you're not fucking scared, you're a crazy motherfuck, like Smithson over there."
"And about the…casualties?" he grimaced. "There's no easy way to deal with this, the way that works for me, at least for now, think about the people you saved, think about the people that are living because of you. For that, I can't really help you with anything else man. Find ways that help you cope."
Rabbit looked back to radio. "Thanks, Nathan, I'll… I'll keep your words in mind."
She went back to messing with her radio.
Ramirez got up, he'd seen too many of his buddies take their own lives. He chuckled quietly. He remembered watching Generation Kill all those years, those Recon Marines back then? He just didn't know anymore, maybe the baby boomers were right and millennials were fucked. He knew a couple dudes that just didn't give a shit. Jesus fuck, how could he know what the normal reaction to this shit was anymore? Fuck it, keep rolling and shooting shit.
He walked up to Carter having a conversation with Josh Farung, from Direct Action.
"Farung, the fuck are you doing in our barracks again?" Ramirez asked.
Farung laughed. "Oh just checking out potential material for direct action that's all."
Ramirez rubbed his face with his hand. Farung had to be the most infuriating guy he knew, the dude would not shut up. But despite all that, he had to be one of the best guys to have by your side during a firefight, Ramirez admitted begrudgingly.
"Stay the hell away from Evan here mate, y'ain't snatching him away from us."
Carter chuckled. "I don't know Corporal, does Direct Action even do DA anymore? Raiders exist y'know?"
"Oh come on man," complained Farung, "we still do it, I was boarding ships in the Pacific a few months ago! Fuck, the names of our platoons really don't mean shit do they?"
Ramirez shrugged. "Won't stop me from fucking with you. You MEU vet."
"Hah, I can do both of that shit at the same time!" laughed Carter with false bravado.
Ramirez gave Carter a look. Lopez was right, but that sort of thing thing took some time to realize, especially for Carter's extended Boot status.
Enough with these guys. "Alright, keep jabbing at each other, and Farung, stop trying to recruit people. Noone wants your Direct Action shit." he walked away from Farung's growing protests.
He approached Smithson. Oh boy, the fucker had to be the hardest goddamn case ever. The Lance didn't tell any deployment stories, not one, not even a funny one. The dude was a loner, he spent a lot of time by himself, and was a PT stud.
"Hey Smithson."
"Hey Corporal."
Ramirez frowned. "Bro, that rifle has to be cleaner than my ass crack after eating MREs for a week." the infamous MREs often caused constipation, causing a clean wipe in the field when they went number two.
"Yeah? A dirty rifle might shake my aim a few feet." said Smithson while continually cleaning his weapons.
"Okay, Smithson, fucking cut it." Ramirez said. "Look, I've been digging, talked to a couple of guys from your previous units, you've been a fucking loner, always in the armoury, constantly alone, not like your fellow marines."
Nathan took a breath. "They even said you slept in the damn motorpool on deployments! And you still do that shit! You're always first in PT, you dedicate yourself to this job. I appreciate that, but the thing is, you dedicate yourself too much."
Smithson tried to interrupt, but Ramirez continued. "Look man, you're a loner, that might work out in some places, but in the Corps brother? That shit'll catch up to you. You can't just keep pushing your fellow marines away bro."
Smithson stopped what he was doing, and laid down his cleaning kit. "I understand you Ramirez, I really do know where you're coming from, but some shit's happening at home man, and I don't really feel like talking about it now."
Shit, he couldn't really do much about that could he? He decided to let off him. "Alright man, I see. If you do ever wanna talk bro, I'm here."
Smithson nodded and continued cleaning. Ramirez walked away back to Lopez.
"Team's doing well for now Lopez." he said as he plopped down in the seat across from her.
"Yeah? How much do you think they need leave?" she replied.
Ramirez laughed. "I think you know the answer to that Maria."
She smiled, she hadn't for a long time. "I think we all know it amigo."
Lieutenant Dixon popped his head in. "Team Leaders on me!"
"And that's my queue to leave, watch over the children Nathan." said Lopez as she left the tent, leaving the marines to their devices.
Ramirez rubbed his face, even while their morale was at its lowest, Marines would still find ways fuck something up.
He looked up. Before the deployment, he would have expected something to happen, but everyone sat glumly around, doing their respective tasks. Even Carter, who usually was always rambunctious and loud, was more reserved and quiet. What they had found last night really shook them he guessed.
/ - /
"Holy fuck!" Ramirez ducked behind their JLTV as a rocket streaked past. "All callsigns, 3-1 Alpha's main weapon is down, and the victor is disabled!" he looked down at the thrown off wheel, "We're dismounting and engaging! Over!"
McCraw slid up next to him, cradling his rifle on a wall and squeezing off a few rounds. McCraw looked to him. "Fucking Mark-Nineteen jamming piece of FUCK!" he yelped as rounds skipped up around him.
"You good McCraw?"
"Yeah!"
Shit had gone downhill way fast from a regular civilian extraction. White Fang had showed up, and with them a shit ton of Grimm. The remaining pockets of White Fang had adapted fast, using hashed together insurgent style tactics. Unfortunately for the Fang, the Grimm stopped listening to them, instead attacking absolutely everything. Which certainly was better for the Marines.
"Carter! What do you see from there!" Ramirez yelled over the incessant fire.
"Ah, fuck! I got eyes on a couple of machine gun positions!, uh, due east!"
"Fucking everything is due east jackass!" McCraw yelled back.
They were in a town, and pretty big town at that, they hid their JLTV behind a house, providing a little bit of cover against the heavy gunfire pounding their location, pinning them from doing anything.
McCraw turned to him. "'Kay, so what are we going to do stuck behind this wall against all that?" he gestured to the whizzing rounds over their heads.
"Can't do shit Aaron, that's the point," Ramirez replied, calmly doing a gearcheck on himself. "but they can." nodding his head to the accompanying LAV pounding the enemy with twenty-five-milimetre shells.
Ramirez toggled his radio. "3-1 Bravo, this is 3-1 Alpha, we are pinned down, over."
3-1 Bravo was Lopez's half of the team, the radio crackled. "Roger Bravo, remain in place and do your best to put down fire, over."
"Roger Bravo, out."
McCraw looked to Ramirez. "So we're going to sit here and take fire?"
Ramirez gave McCraw a look. "That's every single deployment to the sandbox in a nutshell right there."
/ - /
Everything had gone even worse from there. None of them wanted to remember, they would have to try and push past it he guessed.
Lopez pushed her way back into the tent, followed by the rest of the team leaders, ready to brief their teams. Everyone knew what was happening, so they all started separating to their own teams.
Couldn't really do much about anything could they?
/ - /
(Two Days Ago)
"Hey Oberfeldwebel, I got some Gerbers!" yelled Loader Hauptgefreiter
Marwin Haeberle, the equivalent of a Lance Corporal walking up on a German Leopard tank.
Tank Commander Oberfeldwebel Max Boettcher, the equivalent of a Staff Sergeant, lifted his head up from his tank. "What? Where did you get that?"
"I got it from some of the mechanized troops!" Haeberle replied.
They were in an armored laager, an all-round defense for armored vehicles, taking a rest after their mission, in the field with his tank platoon and accompanying platoon of Panzergrenadiers, German mechanized shock troops.
"Damn, what did you even trade for those things?" Boettcher asked while looking at the versatile multitools.
"Heh." was all Haeberle had to say.
Boettcher looked around to see if any of the other Leopard crews were listening. "Shit Haeberle, get over here before one of the others hear." There were massive equipment shortages in the Bundeswehr, including a lack of issued multitools. They certainly didn't have enough time to go out and buy some before they shipped out, unfortunately.
Boettcher motioned the two others of his tank crew over, Driver Stabsunteroffizier Raphael Weindorf Gunner Feldwebel Leon Werkner, the equivalent of corporal and sergeant respectively.
Werkner leaned over to them. "Damn! I've been trying to find those for forever!"
They all gaggled around Haeberle taking a look at the rare multitools, at least in the Bundeswehr, reaching in and taking their own, leaving Haeberle with but one.
They all sat next to their Leopard and finished off their MREs while watching the poor infantry guarding the perimeter.
Boettcher heard the taskforce commander give a call for all unit commanders, and so went to hear what the commander had to say, with the tank crew paying no heed.
Haeberle took a look at the group of unit leaders their faces were rather serious. "Hey Feldwebel, they look kind of serious. What do you think is going to happen?"
Werkner leaned over. "If I had to bet, QRF for something, that's what we're out here for Hauptgefreiter."
"Oh yeah, right."
Boettcher came walking back. "Prepare to move, we're acting as QRF for some Briten."
They looked at each other and climbed into their tank.
/ - /
(Thirty minutes before the QRF is called)
SAS Lance Corporal Jarvis Thomas observed the pair of White Fang grunts standing sentry in the small patch of forest that they had been hiding in.
"All stations, this is Bravo 7-0 Alpha, prepare to execute targets on the signal, out." said the troop Officer in Command (OIC), Captain Joseph Fick
Jarvis leaned over to his battle buddy, fellow SAS Trooper Logan Atkins, and whispered "Logan, you take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right."
"Roger Jarvis." Logan replied, shifting his L119A2, the British C8 CQB, which was, in turn, the Canadian M4.
"All stations, this is Bravo 7-0 Alpha, execute, execute, execute." Jarvis heard through his headset.
The muffled thumps of the suppressed rifles weren't heard, the supersonic cracks of the bullets going into White Fang, were very much heard by the remaining White Fang.
"Let's go." Jarvis said calmly. As they moved forward, the other half of his patrol team moving alongside him and Logan. Other teams lying unseen in the treeline, providing overwatch.
Jarvis saw a White Fang grunt climb up to investigate his fallen comrades. Jarvis snapped to him and double tapped him in the chest. The grunt fell dead on the ground, further in the forest they could hear the alarmed yells of the panicked White Fang.
The SAS troops swiftly moved in on the White Fang camp. As Jarvis swiftly dispatched several White Fang scrambling for their weapons. All this was done in near silence by the SAS troops. They had drilled relentlessly, all this was second nature to them.
Jarvis scanned the seen, a small camp, a lot of dead White Fang. His glance swept to a fleeing White Fang, by the time he swept his rifle over to him, he was gone.
"Blocking Force, this is Bravo 7-2, squirter coming your way, over." He spoke into his radio.
"Roger Bravo 7-2, out." the muffled scream as thumps a short distance away was all that needed to be heard.
Their team leader, Corporal Jack Hutcher, took a quick look around. "Jarvis, Logan, take a look inside that tent over there, we'll cover."
Jarvis nodded, he walked forward towards the tent flap, Logan just beside him. He quickly opened the tent and jabbed his rifle barrel into it. He found himself staring at a White Fang grunt pointing a pistol at him and a hooded, bound, and gagged man besides him.
There was an impact on his plate carrier, he depressed the trigger of his rifle, letting loose a burst into the grunt.
"Shit, you alright Jarvis?" asked Logan, as he rushed to his side.
"Hit my plate, I'm fine." he replied.
Logan peered back into tent with a bit of apprehension. He spotted the gagged man trying to scream through the rag in his mouth, he looked much like he had just came from a business meeting.
"Jack! We got a hostage over here!" he yelled.
"Alright, me and Harry will deal with him, clear the rest of the tents." Jack replied. He was referring to the other trooper in the patrol team, Trooper Harry Davis.
Jarvis and Logan quickly cleared the rest of the camp.
"Bravo 7-0, this is 7-2, camp appears clear, over." Jack spoke into his headset.
"Roger 7-2, break."
"All stations, this is 7-0, proceed to camp and prepare SSE and 360 security, out." SSE meant Sensitive Site Exploitation, which entailed gathering all intelligence and information from a place after they had secured it.
Soon, the entire sixteen man troop was gathered in the former White Fang camp.
"Alright." said Captain Fick. "I want 7-2 conducting the SSE, everyone else set up security, I'll talk to the hostage, get to it men!"
Soon Jarvis was sorting through some papers that were on a dead body. "Hey Jack, I think I found something interesting here."
"What is it?"
"Now if I understand it right, these guys were some sort of special unit meant to go pick up a HVT that wasn't at the Fermilab at the time of the breach, bad timing or something, caught him on his lunch break. Special unit huh? Real fucking special these clowns were."
"So these guys are trying to take people through the portal?" Jack thought for a moment. "Jesus all the missing civilians could be guys they fucking took through the portal before we were able to get to them."
"Shit, what the fuck how did they have all this information on him?" he said as he saw a dossier which contained a mugshot, height, and general information about the HVT. "Daniel Greene, forty-five, a genetics scientist at the fucking Fermilab, what did they want with this guy?"
"Fuck, get it to the Captain, we'll continue the SSE." Jack said.
"Gotcha." Jarvis got up from his sitting position and walked to the Captain, who was debriefing the hostage about his time in captivity.
"So they kidnapped you, and just did nothing else?" Fick asked.
"They put a hood over my head for most of the time, didn't really say anything though. I caught some stuff about how the portal was being heavily guarded, I can't really remember much else right now. I'm really fucking thirsty."
Fick handed Daniel a canteen full of water.
As Daniel drank greedily from the canteen, Jarvis walked next to Fick. "Sir, I found some interesting docum-"
He was interrupted by gunfire to his right. "All stations, this is Bravo 7-4, X-Ray horde is inbound from due west, over." the trooper on the other end used the now recognized NATO designation for Grimm.
"Shit!" Jarvis quickly stashed the documents in his equipment pouch and unslung his rifle and ran to the gunfire.
He quickly dove down and observed Grimm approaching. This was way out of the range of Grimm they could deal with alone, even still he started to fire. The best they could do was delay them as long as possible.
Captain Fick ran up to his side. "Holy fucking shit, Sykes get over here!" he was yelling for his RTO, Corporal David Sykes.
Jarvis peered to his right and saw Harry set up his Maximi, the 7.62 version of the Minimi. Harry started laying down fire on the incoming Grimm, the machinegun ripping through the horde of Grimm. Still, it didn't do much to slow them down.
"TOC, this is Bravo 7-0 Alpha, we are currently in contact with a large force of X-Rays, at grid 484628, in danger of being overrun, requesting reinforcements, over!" Captain Fick yelled into his radio, he them switched to the troop radio net. "All stations, this is 0 Alpha, swing towards westside and begin engaging the contacts, out."
An American voice came back on net. "Roger Bravo 7-0 Alpha, we're vectoring in an armoured unit ten kilometers from your position, ETA ten minutes, over."
"Roger that TOC, we're intending to pull back from our current position to the east, out."
Captain Fick keyed the Troop net. "This is 0 Alpha, we're pulling out to the east, 7-2 and 7-3 will cover first, get moving, out!"
They did, while the command element and patrol team one bounded back, the other team patrol teams laid down a base of fire on the Grimm. Then very soon the Grimm were right on top of them.
Jarvis was running back from the third time they were bounding when he turned back to see a Beowulf jumping at him. His quick reflexes and good timing were essential as he ducked out of the way of the oversized wolf. He quickly brought up his rifle and spray a long burst at the beast. Undeterred, he got up and ran for his very life.
As he was running, he heard an ear shattering explosion. Quite a different racket than the machine gun and rifle fire the SAS men were laying down. Turning to his left, he saw a Leopard tank rolling from behind a small outcropping of trees, accompanying it a Puma armoured vehicle.
Well that's that. He thought, even though they had reinforcements, they still needed to eliminate the very present threat of the Grimm. It would be extremely easy with the Leopards and Pumas however.
/ - /
(Present Day)
McCraw parked their JLTV inside the growing staging point forming outside ground zero. The Fermilab.
The government had done a serious amount of work to the Fermilab, turning it into a puesdo military base. Army MPs at the gates, heavily armed not only with small arms but several serious looking M2A3 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles backing them up. A reinforced company of Army infantry was stationed at the Fermilab. They also kept a battalion of troops to act as QRF, which rotated between essentially everyone deployed in the combat zone.
All three of them climbed out of their JLTV, grabbing their gear they had stowed away as they went. The staging point was bustling with activity, and filled with anticipation.
"So remind me again how we're supposed to move our vehicles through the portal that's underground?" asked Evan as he lit a cigarette.
"Fucking space aliens man!" yelled Aaron from the driver side of the JLTV
Nathan sighed, why did he have to get stuck with a borderline psychotic smartass, and the smart smartass?
"We dug a big fucking hole Carter." he replied, and they did. They excavated a giant ramp leading to the portal to allow vehicular access. It was no small feat, considering it had taken the most part of five months. Sure this has created a direct access point for any further invaders, but Ramirez was pretty sure the firepower arrayed against the portal would be enough to take down most of the Grimm. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if there was a nuke pointed at this place.
Carter chuckled. "I like the idea of space aliens better bro."
"Would fit the theme of inter dimensional space demons pretty well." Ramirez conceded as he grabbed his M27.
Lopez walked over with the other half of the team, who had parked their JLTV not too far from them. "Alright everyone, gather up. I'm going to lay it out straight with you, we're getting a dog handler attached to our platoon."
McCraw spoke up, with a glint of hope in his voice. "Yeah? So?"
"With our team, McCraw."
McCraw's face split into a wide grin. "Oh fuck yeah! Time for the dog whisperer to do some shit!"
Nathan gave a little chuckle. "Aaron, the last time you tried to make friends with a dog she bit the shit out of you everytime you tried."
"Naw bro! That's just how dogs show their love!"
"I don't think I particularly remember the dog acting so aggressively around anyone else."
Lopez broke in with a chuckle. "Calm down children, we'll see how much the dog hates McCraw when we meet him."
Aaron started to protest, saying that that was how dogs showed their love to him, before the rest of the team laughed him off and walked over to where they were supposed to meet the new member of their team. There they saw Lieutenant Dixon and the dog handler with his dog sitting happy at the handler's feet.
"Alright everyone," said Dixon as they approached. "this is Corporal Clayton Price, and his dog, Odin. They've been partnered to Recon before, and they've been through the same courses, so they know what they're doing."
Dixon nodded towards Price. "I'm going to leave you to your introductions now, and everyone." he gestured towards the team. "I know that attaching Sergeant Price here was a little last minute, but someone up top decided it was a good idea, so now he's with 3-1, I'll leave you guys to it."
Dixon walked away, wondering what would happen, since he had just left the dog handler with probably one of the most dysfunctional recon teams in the battalion. Nothing good he supposed.
Price started to do his introductions. "As Lieutenant Dixon said, I'm Corporal Price, and here's my dog, Odin. As she said, I've done stuff with 1st Recon in Iraq and Afghanistan before, and I'm currently being attached to you because of your mission in the upcoming operation."
Their objective after crossing the portal being, screening the main force, route clearance, and of course, reconnaissance of the surrounding area, he supposed a dog would be useful for sniffing out IEDs and ambushes. Price had short cropped brown hair, and brown eyes, there was really nothing distinctive from any other marine.
Aaron was already trying to make friends with Odin, everytime being snapped at by a playful Odin, between his attempts to befriend Odin, he asked a question. "So what breed is he?"
Price, trying to suppress his laughter, responded. "Belgian Malinois, and what's your guy's names? Should probably know your names before we roll into combat together yeah?"
Aaron stood up from playing with Odin and extended his hand. "Lance Corporal Aaron McCraw."
They each introduced each other, saying their names and ranks.
"Alright," began Lopez, "since we're second in the convoy order, I want Price with the front vic, that means with you Nathan."
"Wait a second, Carter is the gunner, and Aaron is driving, I'm the vehicle commander and riding shotgun, where the hell are Price and his dog supposed to go?" Ramirez asked.
Lopez took a moment to think. "Odin can ride in the back and everyone stay in their seats, not ideal for Odin, but it's the best we got."
Price nodded his head. "Understood Sergeant."
Smithson was playing with Odin, who seemed to like Smithson more than McCraw. "Hey Price?"
"Yeah?"
"Isn't there some tradition that makes your dog a rank higher than yours?"
Price groaned. "Please don't fu-"
"Is it considered beastiality or fratenization when you fuck your d-" McCraw interrupted, displaying his classic shitty sense of humour.
"Shut the fuck up McCraw, at least pretend to be a professional holy fuck..." said Lopez, shaking her head.
Rabbit was standing back laughing her ass off at not only Aaron's attempts to play with Odin, but his jab at Price.
Price, with his head in his hands said. "You won't believe how many times I've actually gotten that shit, somehow."
Rabbit, while trying to stifle her laughter, said. "You're going to have to deal with these idiots then. An unfunny wannabe clown-"
"Come on Rabbit! I know you like my jokes deep down!" complained McCraw.
"-the depressed loner with family problems-"
Smithson was too busy playing with Odin to notice.
"-a trigger happy macho asshole-"
Carter groaned. "Come on Rabbit! One time! One fucking time!"
"-our lovable resident gungho crazy ass Corporal-"
Ramirez put his head in his hands, and said sarcastically. "Thanks Rabbit."
"-an-"
Sergeant Lopez coughed.
"-and of course yours truly, the badass lady who's not a Russian Spy."
Price stood there bemused at Rabbit. "Roll credits?"
Carter chuckled. "Imagine, Bandit 3-1, the movie, starring six idiots in the middle of a fantasy land full of black demons."
Rabbit chimed in. "Make that five idiots."
"No, no, no, Rabbit. We're all idiots here in 3-1." said Carter.
While Rabbit and Carter bickered, Ramirez watched everything happen standing next to Lopez. Aaron and Smithson playing with Odin, with Price watching out the corner of his eye.
"I think this is the first time I've seen all of them like this at once." he mentioned to Lopez.
"I think it's the dog." Lopez replied.
"Probably Odin." agreed Ramirez.
The PA system came on. "Reminder to all personnel, the operation will commence in two hours, begin your checks and start preparations to move." it repeated itself in several other languages.
"Well, you heard it. Let's head back to the JLTVs and get Price familiarized with everything." said Lopez. "The rest of us will just wait here or a bit."
"Wilco Lopez." Ramirez responded. "Price, Carter, and McCraw, you can play with Odin later, come on, to the JLTV we fucking go!"
Smithson reluctantly left Odin and headed off the rear JLTV, petting the Belgian Malinois one last time.
/ - /
"So this is the new fancy JLTV huh?" remarked Price as he climbed in the vehicle.
"Your unit didn't get it in Afghanistan or stateside?" asked Carter as he climbed into his left hand backseat position as the gunner.
"I went to Afghanistan in 2014, and my unit hasn't gotten the JLTVs, not even for training." Price lifted Odin up, him happily letting it happen, probably because he realized McCraw was going to be too busy driving to annoy him.
Odin, however was not so happy that he was sitting in the trunk, trying to use his well honed puppy eyes to not have to sit in the trunk. It failed tremendously on his handler, who was used to Odin trying it.
Carter glanced over his shoulder at Odin, and laughed at the puppy eyes. "Holy shit Odin's trying to get out of sitting in the back!"
Price grinner at Carter. "He tries this with everyone when he doesn't get his way. It worked on a few officers before actually, got me out of a few ass chewings."
Everyone was in the JLTV now, so Ramirez started to talk. He went over what would happen in case they got ambushed, what they would do. Just to get everyone on the same page. It was all pretty basic stuff that they all learned in SOI, or School of Infantry. Or in Price's case, who was technically an MP, MCT, or Marine Combat Training.
"So our callsign will be Bandit 3-1 Alpha, Lopez's JLTV is 3-1 Bravo." Ramirez explained. "Platoon commander's callsign is Bandit 3 Actual, his RTO is Bandit 3."
Radio convention depended a lot on the unit and their Standard Operating Procedures. Their unit just made it nice and simple for them.
All members of the team conducted their prep, after that was finished, Ramirez checked his watch.
"Hour and a half 'til go time, let's go socialize with the rest of the taskforce while we wait."
McCraw spoke up after scratching his brown hair. "Yeah, I wanna go find some of the Canucks, they owe me some shit."
Carter called out from the back, after testing the RCWS Mark-Nineteen to make sure it was functional, besides firing of course. "The Canadian Recce Platoon we attached with a while back you mean?"
"That's right Carter! The beard toting, weed smoking Canadians."
At this point they had all climbed out of the JLTV and gaggled in a small group outside it. They had taken their and helmets off but not their plate carriers, preferring not to strain their necks quite yet.
"Canadians? I worked with some of those guys on exercise up north. I remember we had this whole brief on not smoking weed and shit." remarked Price as he got a leash onto Odin.
Lopez and her side of the team walked towards them from hanging around their JLTV. Smithson with a cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand. They all had taken off their helmets and had their rifles slung at their sides.
"Alright, so what are we doing, we got an hour and a half?" said Lopez. "I'll let you guys decide."
McCraw glanced around, spotting a german tank column. "Those fuckers look cool, let's talk to them."
As Aaron walked off, they all looked at each other and shrugged. Nothing bad could happen, not that bad anyways.
/ - /
Boettcher sat on top of his tank turret, his Leopard 2A7+. He was the proud commander of one of the most advanced warfighting machine on the planet, he was pretty proud of the fact. He was proud of his tank crew, they had all acted with the utmost professionalism while in Amerika. They did their job to its full extent, eradicating the pest that was the enemy and driving them back to their home.
Soon they would be going after their enemy's home too.
Haeberle hopped up from the side of the tank. His short, stocky frame let him lift shells easily, letting his effortlessly lift himself up to the top of the tank with one go. "Hey Oberfeldwebel, we're moving in an hour and a half, what are we doing in the meanwhile?"
Boettcher lit a cigarette, his wife always berated him for smoking, a habit he had pickup up in Afghanistan as a young Obergefreiter, a private, in the Panzertruppe. "Freetime Haeberle, go chat with other crews or something, I'll sit here and watch the tank for a bit, then do something else."
Haeberle replied with agreement before dropping down from the tank to go talk to the other two members of their tank crew, Werkner and Weindorf. The trio chatted a bit before looking at a group of approaching Americans and walking off.
Boettcher paid no heed and instead looked at his phone, and at the images of his second newborn child. Her name was Lina, a beautiful girl. He smiled, he couldn't wait to get back to Germany to see her.
"Hey Oberfeldwebel!" yelled Haeberle, probably the only guy stupid enough to distract and annoy him and not get an immediate asschewing. "Could you uh-"
He watched as Weindorf punched Haeberle and started berating him. Boettcher held up a hand, bemused, and hopped down from the Leopard. Deciding to chew out Haeberle another day, he kept putting it off for some reason. He didn't really know why.
"What do you need Haeberle?" Boettcher asked, putting in just enough annoyance to let Haeberle know. "I was a bit busy."
If Haeberle noticed, he didn't show it. "These guys are US Marines! That's uh, the Ramirez dude!"
Boettcher had heard the stories about the legendary Bandit 3-1, apparently the ATL had wrestled one of the most valuable prisoners into submission, the crazy bastard. They had a distinguished line of operations. One story told them single handedly storming a compound full of White Fang and saving many civilian hostages. At least those were the stories that didn't seem too over exaggerated, some of the stories seemed way far off in fantasy land.
The group of marines stood there, discussing something, he heard something from the brown haired one. "Nathan! You're fucking famous bro!"
Boettcher spoke up in English. "Hey you're the famous Bandit Team right?"
The brown haired marine stopped. "Wait, we're fucking famous?"
"Yeah, did you not notice? Everyone has been talking about the crazy shit you guys pulled in the five months here." Boettcher responded with his heavy German accent. While speaking he pulled out his cigarette and stomped it out on the ground.
"Oh hell yeah, this is some cool ass shit! And by the way I'm Aaron McCraw." said the brown haired marine.
The two subunits exchanged names and greetings for a few minutes.
"So you guys heading on this operation?" Weindorf asked.
Lopez, their team leader he believed, spoke. "We'll be coming after you guys to screen your forces and set up reconnaissance positions around the staging area."
"We'll be driving straight there, and if the uh, small drone and rover footage we have, we'll be having good time being slammed by RPGs." Weindorf responded, trying to be sarcastic but his rusty English not quite coming out right.
McCraw laughed regardless. Why did he seem so similar to Haeberle? "Bucko give 'em hell for us would you?"
Weindorf stood confused. "Sorry, but uh, what does ,ucko mean? Excuse me I haven't used my English in a long time."
"Still seems pretty good to me." remarked McCraw.
"Hey I got a pack of cards at the tank why don't we play some Blackjack!" said Haeberle in his impeccable English.
Carter immediately interrupted. "Fuck yeah! Finally all those years of being a depressed fucker gambling his life away will finally pay off!"
Ramirez leaned over to Boettcher. "Carter is a god at Blackjack, literally any cardgame and he'll probably win it."
Boettcher bit back full on laughter, instead giving a sly smile. "You haven't seen what Haeberle over there can do."
They both smirked, Ramirez replied. "Oh, we'll see who wins, they'll be fighting against the dealer right?"
"That'd be me I guess, I'm always the fucking dealer." Boettcher said as he started towards the tank.
So the two subunits walked towards the tanks, Carter and Haeberle leading.
/ - /
Haeberle, McCraw, and Carter stared at Boettcher intensely.
They played their turns, and waited for Boettcher to reveal his card.
Boettcher did, Carter and McCraw groaned as their bet was taken away while Haeberle laughed his ass off as he was given his prize of their money, and lots of it.
The remainder of the two units stood off on the sidelines and chatted amongst themselves while watching the Blackjack game.
Ramirez walked up behind McCraw and Carter. "Come on you guys! You're the battalion's best Blackjack players and you're being fucking beat by a Kraut? Fucking come on! Oh, and no offense Haeberle." he added.
Haeberle laughed cheerfully. "None taken Corporal Ramirez, If these are your best gamblers, I could swindle all of you US marines!"
McCraw held up a hand. "Hey hey, I know a dude who can take all your money faster than a fucking Jew on the stock market."
Meanwhile Price frowned a bit but held his tongue.
McCraw looked around for half a second, before spotting who he was looking for. "Hey Reid! Get over here!"
A man clad in green digital camouflage looked over, on his left shoulder was the Maple Leaf, the flag of Canada. Reid looked over at his buddy that he was talking with and told him to go on, this would probably be quick.
Reid walked up, wearing an OTW shirt and his dark green beret on his head. Of course the main distinction was his well groomed beard. "The fuck do you want McCraw? My platoon's doing prepwork for going in after you guys."
"Well, I need you to take Fritz's money here, because this dude is one mean ass Blackjack player." said McCraw. "Anyways you still owe me a favour bro."
Reid groaned. On his chest was the Corporal rank, of course in the Canadian military Corporal was equivalent to an E-3, while an E-4 was a Master Corporal.
"Fine McCraw, I get to keep half the money though."
And in the course of not fifteen minutes, Reid had robbed Haeberle and Boettcher of all their money.
Haeberle grinned, this was all in good fun of course. "And who do I owe the honour of competing against?"
"Corporal Alex Reid, 1 RCR, Recce Platoon." responded Reid. "And what about you?"
"Hauptgefreiter Marwin Haeberle, First Panzer Division." he responded. "And here's my crew of fellow tankers!"
They introduced each other, exchanging names and pleasantries.
McCraw spoke up. "So uh, Reid, where's my money you promised me?"
"Oh, oh yeah." Reid split the stack of bills and gave half to McCraw. "It was nice taking your money Haeberle, and McCraw, I swear I'll kick your ass in COD next match. I gotta get back to my platoon. Goodluck on the op, stay frosty guys." with that Reid hopped off the tank and walked towards a group of gathering Canadians.
Alarms on their watches went off, their thirty minute warning, time to get back to the vehicles.
"That's it folks, thirty minutes 'til go time." said Lopez. "Good luck guys, go get some for us will 'ya?"
Boettcher laughed. "Will do so Sergeant Lopez! Goodluck on your mission!"
The recon team started walking back to their JLTVs
People were really rushing around now, doing their last minute checks and mentally preparing themselves for what was about to come.
Ramirez and his half of the team loaded into their JLTV. McCraw spoke as he started up the engine. "You know, as a good luck charm..."
McCraw took a fistfull of Crayola crayons out of his pocket and hung them up on the rearview mirror.
Price looked over and said. "Holy fucking shit McCraw, if the Army dudes spot that they'll never let off us."
"That's the point Corporal, then I'll pull out some crayons and throw it at them!" exclaimed McCraw as he threw his hands up.
Carter sat quietly, running a final check on the RCWS Mark-Nineteen.
"Well, crayons or not, this is it guys." said Ramirez, he placed his rifle at his side and put on his helmet. "We're about to take the fight to them now."
"Yeah, yeah." said Carter quietly.
/ - /
Corporal Alex Reid watched as the convoy passed him and go into the portal, disappearing through it.
"These guys are going straight into some deep shit aren't they?" remarked the Master Corporal next to him.
"Yeah, there's gonna be some heavy fighting for everyone involved." said Reid.
"Just wondering how many guys aren't going to come back home." said the Master Corporal.
"Too many." said Reid, he pulled out a cigarette and smoked it, wondering just how was shit had this portal pulled everyone into.
/ - /
C A/N: Wow, that took a while. Sorry for the wait. School's going to be starting soon for me, so that means another chapter in a year. Jk, kappa.
This chapter focused mainly on character development. So uh, yeah.
Review, tell us if you liked it, didn't like it. If you didn't like it, tell us why. It helps us as writers.
Until a few years, Tophat out.
A/N: It did take a while huh? Do expect these long dry spells for now everyone. School is my top priority, along with Tophat, so we will focus on our classes over this story. Hopefully, more chapters will be released tho. Just depends on how much college hates me, and how much Tophat's life hates him.
See you all next chapter!