Chapter 4
Boettcher's tank lurched through the portal. Through his commander's optic, he could see that the surroundings had matched what the drones had seen and what intel had told them.
Of course, when they sent the drones in, after figuring out the wireless signal stopped, they had sent in a wired ground UGV or Unmanned Ground Vehicle. It had come under immediate fire, and they had only been able to confirm the intel from the interrogation of captured White Fang before the UGV was destroyed.
Boettcher didn't expect the response to them to be any different.
Except it was, he quickly scanned for immediate cover for his tank. He spotted a building to their left, it seemed to provide adequate cover from most directions.
"Weindorf, move to that building at two o'clock, 50 meters," he spoke into his headset.
"Moving," replied Weindorf
He sat in his tank scanning through his Commander Optic, no movement, no thermals, it was eerily quiet. He listened to the radio traffic, luckily it seemed to work here, locals comms only though, only static on the command frequency. They would have to send a runner through to get messages across.
While scanning, he familiarized himself with his surroundings. It was an industrial area, filled with broken-down warehouses and other buildings and factory looking structures. He started scanning the row of apartment buildings that were at the edge of the block about five hundred meters away. He squinted at his screen, he had spotted a glint of a thermal signature for less than a second. He quickly switched to normal sights. He wasn't sure what he was seeing, but it looked something like an anti-tank launcher under camouflage netting.
"Sturm 2-1, this is Sturm 2-2, message, over," Boettcher spoke into his headset.
"Sturm 2-2, Sturm 2-1, send it." crackled his platoon commander.
"Roger, I see a suspected enemy anti-tank weapon, permission to engage, over," he said.
"The rules of engagement are pretty lax Sturm 2-2, engage whatever you deem a threat, out."
With no delay, he began giving orders. "Designate, antitank weapon, HE-FRAG." with that he pressed the button that swung the tank gun to where he was looking.
"I got it, the camouflage tent looking thing right? Five fifty meters" replied Werkner.
"Up!" yelled Haeberle, indicating that he had loaded the tank gun with the requested ammunition.
"Fire and adjust." Boettcher said calmly, he picked up his other radio to notify the Battle Group that he was engaging. "All stations, Sturm 2-2, engaging enemy position, over."
"On the way!" yelled Werkner before the recoil of the round rocked the tank back.
Boettcher observed the resulting explosion through his commander optics, as the smoke dissipated, he watched his whole screen just come alive with movement everywhere.
"Oh fuck!" Boettcher let out a swear, in English. It was a habit from when he was a young tanker in Afghanistan, attached with Americans. "Werkner engage whatever you see in front of us!"
"Up!" yelled Haeberle, pushing another round into the chamber.
"Roger!" with that the Leopard rocked back, and a white flower bloomed on his thermal display.
The explosion ripped through the white blots on his screen, it engulfed the targets blooming on the screen. As the explosion dissipated only a mangled mess remained.
"Gunner! Load HE-FRAG! fire and adjust!" ordered Boettcher.
"Roger." replied Werkner.
"Up!" yelled Haeberle.
The tank rocked back again, Werkner's extraordinary aim ripped straight into a White Fang grunt firing from a hidden machinegun position set up in a broken section of a building, and the shrapnel wounding the assistant next to him.
Boettcher scanned around, calling out targets for Werkner, while firing off a few bursts with his Remote Controlled Weapon System, or RCWS. As he was scanning he spotted a flash that bloomed on his thermal display, that flash stayed there, and it was moving towards him.
"RPG!" yelled Boettcher. He punched the deploy smoke button. "Back u-"
The RPG shook the tank, he was thankful for his helmet, otherwise he'd have quite the headache. Luckily for them, they had taken care to secure their equipment so nothing would fly around.
"Driver back the fuck up! Get us behind that wall to our four!" he yelled.
"Moving!" said Weindorf. The tank started backing up away from their fighting position, the tracks rumbling against the ground.
"2-2, this is 2-1, SITREP, over." said their platoon commander over the radio net.
"2-1, 2-2, we're okay over here, no penetration through the armour, over." Boettcher said this while scanning the buildings for enemy contact. He spotted some thermal signatures scurrying around in the darkness of the gray buildings.
"Roger 2-2, we're being tasked with supporting the Blitz 2 in their attack on the enemy positions, over." Blitz was their attached mechanized Panzer Grenadiers in the Puma Infantry Fighting Vehicle.
"Roger 2-1, 2-2 out." he replied through his headset. "Gunner! Designate, infantry in the windows of the apartment building, HE-FRAG."
"Got them!" said Werkner. The tank gun blasted and the Leopard rocked back, blowing a hole in the middle of the apartment building.
He watched through his commander viewport as the Puma IFVs drove up to the opening, and spewed out infantry out of their troop compartments, the well trained Panzer Grenadiers easily breached the enemy strongpoint, with the Leopard platoon supporting with taking out hardpoints on the exterior of the building.
Sturm 2-3 and 2-4 started maneuvering through the closed streets closer to the enemy, tearing apart the White Fang as they went. It was a complete rout for the White Fang.
"All stations, this is 2-1, 2-2's with me, we're tasked with helping guard the southern flank of the area, 2-3 and 2-4 are to assist with the western side, out."
Boettcher ordered Weindorf to follow the platoon leader's tank. Following close behind the lead Leopard they stationed themselves behind some fortifications that the White Fang had set up, and judging from the blood splatters and broken state of the barricades, it hadn't done them much good.
Still, the cover it provided was better than nothing, and could serve to grant a small amount of concealment from approaching enemies. The fortifications themselves were placed in the middle of a road, presumably the White Fang had an encirclement around the Task Force, not that it had lasted very long. The Task Force's plan was to create a perimeter around the immediate area, to allow reinforcements to come.
Werkner spoke up on the intercom. "Boettcher, the drone is up."
Boettcher gave Werkner a thumbs up and pulled out his commander tablet which gave him direct video to any drones within range, and more. He wasn't able to control them, but he'd be able to see whatever happened.
"2-2, 2-1, get ready, I have reports of a large force of White Fang and Grimm heading our way." said his platoon commander through the radio.
"Roger 2-1, we're ready." Boettcher replied. He turned to his crew. "Alright guys, get ready we got tangos inbound."
"Yippee, more shoving a big ass fucking round into the barrel." remarked Haeberle tiredly.
Werkner snorted. "You sleep on me and I'll kick your ass again."
"Cut the chatter," said Boettcher. "We got company."
Through his optics he could see a massive Grimm horde streaming into view. The Pumas and infantry platoon were already opening fire on it. The horde was packed tightly in the road, easy pickings.
"Werkner just light them the fuck up! HE-FRAG and coax!" there was no real need to call out a target in this situation.
Werkner responded by firing his cannon, ripping into the Grimm horde. Very quickly the horde was decimated by the concentrated firepower of the relatively small force. Boettcher kept scanning for a second more, seeing nothing he reached for his radio.
"2-1, 2-2 I got nothing left in sight, over."
"Roger 2-2, stay frosty, watch out right flank, over."
"Roger, 2-2 out." replied Boettcher, "Gunner, traverse right, watch our right side."
"Gotcha, scanning right." replied Werkner.
Boettcher let out a sigh, he reached up to his face to try and wipe his face of the sweat streaming down his face, only to be blocked by his helmet. He swore suddenly, noticing something in his viewport. He strained his eyes to try and make it out, he started trying to reach for his Push To Talk button to report it in.
Finally, he recognized a shape as it grew bigger, his eyes widened. Snatching the radio. "All callsigns, this is Sturm 2-2, enemy air inbound!"
The laser warning inside the tank started flashing, it's klaxon blaring inside his headset. In an instant his hand slammed the smoke dispenser, casting an arc of concealment in front of the Leopard 2A7. In a flash, Weindorf started reversing, reverting to his ingrained training.
The Trophy Active Protection System reacted almost instantly, swiveling towards the incoming missile and firing off tiny explosives at the Air To Ground Missile.
The missile exploded harmlessly above the tank.
Of course the aircraft didn't just fire one, the Trophy APS repeated this action four times, all perfectly performed to perfection. Insurgents couldn't beat the Trophy in Gaza, and the enemy here couldn't beat it either.
Boettcher quickly turned his RCWS to attempt to try and engage the aircraft as it flew past. It came into view. The aircraft was a huge, cumbersome VTOL type aircraft that looked like an American Osprey. If he had to bet, he'd wager that there were rocket pods strapped underneath, but he couldn't really tell from it flying by.
He depressed the trigger, watching his tracers fly towards the aircraft racing away. The aircraft jinked and maneuvered around skillfully dodging the machinegun fire. Unluckily for the pilots, a Stinger Man Portable missile streaked towards the sleek aircraft. Flares deployed out of the aircraft, but the Stinger homed true, exploding by one of the engines.
Boettcher let off a few rounds at the limping aircraft as it descended towards the hard concrete ground. It was as good as dead at this point.
"Sturm 2, 2-1." came his platoon leader's voice on his headset. "The rest of the taskforce is coming soon, don't fuck up, over."
The platoon gave their acknowledgements over the radio. Boettcher spoke up on the internal crew comms. "Alright meine freunde, stay frosty, and stop sleeping Haeberle."
Haeberle awoke with a jolt when he heard his name. Shaking his head, he said. "Fuck off, Oberfeldwebel."
Boettcher gave a light chuckle, then turned serious. "Fall asleep again, and you'll get us all killed."
/ - /
Ramirez glanced outside the JLTV.
It was surreal to be in what could be called another dimension. Ramirez chortled, he remembered seeing a little bit of the internet shitstorm on his downtime. Browsing the internet always proved to be an interesting distraction, if not a healthy one.
Outside was a bustle of activity. Flecktarn clad Germans were running around, imposing Leopard tanks keeping watch, and combat engineers around setting up a hasty FOB. While anyone who came through would have the protection of the tanks around them, the illustrious Bandit Company, elite Force Recon Marines, would take the glorious duty of driving out and getting shot at. Fortunately for them, their bullets seemed to go through whatever "Aura" was, there were several theories, which Ramirez didn't really bother to pay much attention to.
Ramirez mulled over this silently.
"Ramirez," said McCraw as he punched his shoulder. "Where the fuck are we going again?"
He pointed to an open clearing nearby. "Just follow 3-2's vic, pretty sure Fachit is leading us."
"Yippee!" McCraw threw up his hands. "The entire company is in the hands of a Terminal Lance."
Ramirez punched him in the shoulder. "Last time that happened you got us lost as point man."
McCraw chuckled. "In my defence, the compass was fucked."
"Yeah McCraw, sure."
The company gathered around to form an impromptu staging area before heading out on their various missions. Their company commander, Captain Kristiansen, got out of his vehicle and claimed a nearby building as the company TOC, while the rest of the company pulled security, doing last minute checks before they stepped off.
Ramirez clambered back into JLTV. He looked back to see Price herding Odin into the back, and Carter messing around with the screen for the RCWS. "Everyone good?"
Price glanced back at him. "Uh, yeah, Odin doesn't seem too fond of where he is right now though." Odin was giving his best puppy eyes to Price. Ramirez had to laugh.
"Alright guys, we're second in the patrol order, just behind Lopez and her vic, we're going to be watching the left arc, we're going to basically be driving out and hoping something shoots at us." said Ramirez.
His headset came alive with Lopez's voice. "Ramirez, this Lopez, message, over."
Ramirez reached for his PTT button. "Lopez, Ramirez, send it."
"Change of plans, we've been tasked with searching for a crashed White Fang aircraft that was shot down, break." there was a second before she continued. "The aircraft was shot down due east of here, surprisingly the compass works, we're using drones right now to try and track it down, over."
"Acknowledged Lopez, Ramirez out."
Ramirez turned to everyone else in the JLTV. "Everyone hear that?"
"Yep!" shouted McCraw. "Now we get to go shoot at guys that definitely know we're here!"
As fast as they got there, the convoy stepped off, the long line of vehicles passing by an improvised checkpoint manned by some German soldiers. Ramirez peered at one of the tanks, he swore he saw Boettcher in one of the hatches.
"Yo is that Boettcher in that tank?" he asked the others.
Price turned his head. "Uh, shit I think so."
McCraw immediately swivelled his head. "Ah fuck, it is!"
And in less than a second, they were gone from view.
Ramirez turned to McCraw. "Dude, you have like less than a second to see a helmeted face that you just met today, and you're completely sure, what the fuck?"
"What can I say? I'm a Force Recon Marine!" laughed McCraw, slapping the steering wheel. He ducked to avoid Carter throwing a pencil at him.
"Shut the fuck up and drive Aaron." cut in Carter, face deep in his screen.
The JLTV was filled with soft chuckles from everyone, even Odin seemed to pick up and barked.
His radio crackled. "All Bandit 3 callsigns, this is Actual. Drones have located the crash site one kilometre from here. Drone footage is available on commander tablets. Out."
McCraw looked over. "Alright Nathan, time to pull out that fancy command mobility tablet of yours!" McCraw threw one of his hands up, laughing. They were turning right in a four way intersection. Ramirez looked around trying to spot any hint of an ambush in the darkness inside the broken buildings. They were in a concrete jungle, with the naked eye, it would be practically impossible to spot any ambush set with any amount of competence.
"Rank has privileges Aaron, unlike being a fucking Lance Corporal." he remarked as he pulled out his tablet. It allowed him to do plenty of things, including viewing a live feed of drones.
They had three drones up in the air, each controlled by the team's drone operator. So he assumed Smithson was in the front playing with his drone. The screen revealed a wreckage in the middle of a parking lot. It was surrounded by broken down grey, colourless buildings.
"So who wants to recreate Fallujah?" Ramirez joked.
"With furries and shit? Fuck yeah!" exclaimed McCraw.
Carter didn't even look up from his screen. "Mhm McCraw, last time you tried to stage a hentai revolution Gunny shut you down real quick."
Price glanced suddenly away from his window, confusion written all the way across his face. "Wa- what?"
Ramirez laughed heartily. "So there was this o-"
"Shut the fuck up please." scowled McCraw. "I was weird back then."
"Weeb." remarked Carter.
"Fuck you!"
"What kind of shit do you guys even get up to?" questioned Price.
Carter grunted. "Less crazy shit then grunts I think, 3/6 was interesting."
"We're five mikes out," said Ramirez. He looked up from his tablet and started scanning his surroundings outside the JLTV.
Lieutenant Dixon's voice came over the JLTV radio. "All callsigns, this is Bandit 3 Actual, we're nearing the crash site, keep an eye out. Out."
"You heard the Lieutenant, gamefaces on." said Ramirez, as McCraw broke out in a bout of singing. "Or not Aaron, or not."
"Thank you! Next! I'm so fucking gratefu for m-" half sang, half yelled McCraw hoarsely at the top of his lungs
"Holy fuck Aaron!" exclaimed Carter, slamming his fist on the back of McCraw's seat. "Would you shut the fuck up with that song!"
McCraw kept singing definitely until even Odin started barking at him. McCraw let out a snort at first, then broke out into full on laughter. "Oh Jesus, you guys really don't like my singing?"
"No!"
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck no!"
"WOOF!"
The radio in the JLTV crackled. "All callsigns, Bandit 3 Actual, we're entering the crash site, all victors encircle the aircraft and form a perimetre, out."
The vehicles ahead of their JLTV started slowing down. Ramirez watched as they turned diverging directions and formed a blockade around the aircraft, watching the street from both directions. He barely recognized it as a Bullhead from the artist's sketches they had been handed prior to their entry. In the wreckage he saw torn and twisted bodies, and a glimpse of movement.
"3-1, this is Actual, move to secure the wreckage, over."
Lopez came over the radio. "Actual, 3-1, acknowledged, over."
"Roger, everyone else set up three-sixty, out."
Ramirez jumped out of the JLTV and started approaching the downed aircraft slowly, rifle raised. Odin lept out to the JLTV pulling at his leash barking at the downed Bullhead. McCraw came up beside him and took a knee.
"Carter, cover us! Get Odin in there." ordered Ramirez. Besides them was Lopez's JLTV; they were also slowly approaching the downed bird.
Odin leaped forward the moment the leash was taken off, bounding towards the wreckage. The four Marines, with the two others manning the weapons on the JLTVs, glided across the ground. Ramirez heard a yelp come from inside the wreckage.
"Oi! Get the fuck off me!" yelled a voice from inside the Bullhead.
Ramirez rushed forward into the wreckage to find a fox-eared woman trapped under a piece of the aircraft, Odin tugging at her arm.
"Hey, I'm a-" her eyes met his, in an instant she reached for her sidearm with her free arm.
Ramirez squeezed his trigger, spraying lead into the White Fang member.
He reached for his PTT for his. "Lopez, Ramirez, one EKIA, over."
He didn't wait for a response, instead he moved through the crash searching for any other survivors. He reached what looked like a cockpit.
A voice spoke up behind him. "Got your back dumbass," it was McCraw.
"Fuck you too." Ramirez entered the cockpit to find two barely alive faunus pilots strapped in. "they're still alive, get the EPW team in here."
He was referring to the designated Enemy Prisoner of War Team, in this instance Team Three. Ramirez pulled out his KA-BAR and cut the pilots free and just as fast slapped them in Flex Cuffs.
With McCraw's help he pulled both the pilots outside the twisted hunk of metal, past the dead bodies of the other White Fang. Sergeant Goring, Team Leader of Team Three met them outside.
"Here are your prisoners Sergeant." said Ramirez as he tossed the barely alive man onto the ground.
Goring whistled, "Damn Ramirez, who shit in your cereal this morning?"
"All these fucks," with that he rejoined his team, leaving Team Three to perform the SSE and guard the prisoners.
The Lieutenant started giving orders. Team One and Two to pull security, while Team three was to guard the prisoners and perform the SSE. With the attached sniper team trying to find an overwatch position in one of the nearby buildings. Ramirez rested his rifle on top of the hood of his JLTV and started playing hurry up and wait.
/ - /
One hour ago.
Team RWBY watched the Bullhead limp it's way across the sky, they had heard the start of the battle thirty minutes earlier, and they had been trying to make their way towards the clash.
Ruby bit her lip. "What do you think is happening?"
Oobleck spoke up. "Why, I would think that an unknown force has engaged the very organization we're hunting."
He looked up at the now flaming Bullhead. "The trajectory of that seems that it'll land closer to us than the battle in the distance, we'll start by heading towards that."
Yang scratched her head. "So Doc, what are we going to do with the other guys we find?"
Oobleck sipped at his coffee. "Why, we'll see who it is, I was not aware of any military forces active in this area. Oh look there's Grimm!"
"What?" yelped Ruby, unfolding Crescent Rose immediately.
Team RWBY immediately prepared for battle, readying to fight their way to the crash site.
/ - /
Ramirez rested his rifle on the hood of the JLTV, bored as hell, but alert. He knew that they were probably going to get bumped sooner or later. He scanned his eyes over the dark depths of the surrounding buildings again, looking for something, anything to dull the boredom.
He leaned over to Smithson, who was engrossed in his tablet. "See anything Jax?"
He was rapidly tapping on his screen. "Nothing ye- woah!"
"What?"
"I just saw a fucking blur on my screen, I think we got an Aura person-Huntsman or some shit. Oh fuck there's more! Heading our way from the north, like four plus the blur." by then Smithson was furiously tapping on his screen.
Ramirez cursed. "What do they look like?"
Jaxon tapped a button. "Uh, complicated, but they're not wearing the standard White Fang shit."
Ramirez nodded then ran over to Lopez. She looked over to him in surprise. "What is it?"
"Jaxon spotted something, a group of five unknowns coming from the northern arc, they don't look like White Fang but they certainly have Auras, " he replied.
Almost immediately Lopez grabbed her radio and began relaying the information to Lieutenant Dixon. She faced back at him.
Her eyes pierced through his soul, and gave him a death glare. "What the fuck are you still standing here for? Grab the team and get set up on the northern approach."
He nodded quickly. "Yes Sergeant." with that he ran off to get the rest of his team.
He quickly gathered up the remaining members of the team, leaving Carter and Rabbit manning the JLTV, and set up a small defensive position. Team Two watched the other approaches, waiting for anything.
McCraw looked over to Lopez. "What should we say?"
"Tell them to stop where they are, then we'll figure it out later." she said.
Jaxon called out. "They're rounding the corner in fifteen seconds."
Ramirez shouldered his rifle and took a knee. In moments he saw a red blur come into view.
"Hold fire!" yelled Lopez.
Just as fast as the blur rounded the corner, it stopped. Not even fifty metres away stood a petite girl clad in red and black. He could hear her yelp from his position behind the JLTV.
Right behind her came the four other reported unknowns. Three girls and one older man, they all looked like they were going for some sort of colour scheme or something.
"Hey! Stay the fuck where you are! You are impeding on the area of operations of the United States Marine Corps!" shouted McCraw, into a megaphone he had produced out of nowhere.
"Yeah McCraw, because these fuckers know what the Marine Corps is!" yelled Carter from his seat in the JLTV.
"Fuck you!"
Meanwhile the five individuals stood confused for a second, before the red blur called back.
"Hey! Who are you? And uh, your guns are really cool!" came a ridiculously high voice. The one in nearly all white started berating the petite girl, before calling to them after.
"As I would like to reiterate," the girl cleared her throat, "exactly who are you? You don't look like anyone from Atlas!"
Lopez leaned over to Rabbit. "Hey, go get the Lieutenan-"
1st Lieutenant Dixon clapped a hand on Lopez's shoulder, the rest of the command section not far behind. "Right here Sergeant, now let's see what these people want."
The Lieutenant called out. "We're the United States Marine Corps! Who are you!"
He turned to the RTO, Corporal Campbell. "Get the TOC on the line, report this up the chain of command."
This time the older man called back. "We're a Huntsman Team from Beacon here on a scouting mission! We happened to hear a battle off in the distance and wanted to investigate!"
McCraw whistled. "Beacon? Uh, shit I never pay attention to the briefs."
Ramirez punched McCraw in the shoulder. "You never pay attention to anything Aaron."
Dixon called back. "We're- you know this would make it much easier if you came here!"
The group turned to discuss within themselves for a second. Meanwhile Campbell took the radio handset away from his face.
"Hey LT, Cap wants to talk to you." said Campbell, handing Dixon the handset.
Dixon picked up the handset and spoke rapidly into it. Ramirez ignored it and instead focused on the group in front of him.
"I'm afraid that would not be possible for us, I have the safety of my students to consider!" responded the green haired man.
"Sergeant, take care of it," Dixon said before returning to the radio.
Lopez turned to Ramirez, "Ramirez, since you're so good with words and negotiation, get at it."
Ramirez started to disagree, then realized while he didn't like it, Lopez was at least halfway right about that statement. Turning to the Huntsman and Huntresses, he opened his mouth to try and weave the largest web of bullshit possible.
/ - /
"Acknowledged Bandit 3, wait out." said Captain Kristiansen, putting the handset down in the C2 JLTV, or the command and control vehicle.
His third platoon had just called in saying they had made contact with some locals. In the event of that, they were supposed to pass the information along the chain of command and get the locals to HQ for questioning.
The TOC for the overall operation was just next to his. So he told his RTO to follow him and jogged over to the group of tables where the Colonel commanding the operation stood.
"Okay, get Tiger Company to reinforce Sturm's position, hopefully we'll get air support up and running once the aviation boys get their shit together." The US Army Colonel spoke in a booming, gravelly voice, as if he ate KA-BARs for breakfast.
The Colonel turned to Kristiansen. "What do you want, Jarhead? I have things to do."
"Sir, one of my recon platoons made contact with the local forces while recovering the crashed aircraft. They say they're a team of Huntsmen from Beacon." he said while handing over a scrap of scribbled notes on the information relayed to him.
The Colonel glanced down at the map. "Bandit 3?" before he could respond the Colonel continued, "have them bring them back here for questioning if possible. Remember, force protection is the first priority in all instances."
Kristiansen nodded. "Yessir."
Just after he turned the Colonel spoke up. "Captain, keep me in the loop about this."
Captain Kristiansen acknowledged this, and went back to his TOC in the abandoned building.
/ - /
Surprisingly enough, Ramirez had managed to convince them to meet in the middle. Following many assurances and asking the Captain for permission through large amounts of bullshit, they agreed to have an exchange of sorts. One person from their group would come over, and one marine would go over Ramirez reasoned that if it really came to it, their rounds could punch through aura, and so would always keep at least one gun trained on the Huntresses. Unfortunately for him, he was immediately told to get his ass moving over there.
He had said all those things thinking he wouldn't be the unlucky bastard in the line of fire. Lamentable for him.
Halfway between his platoon and the Huntresses, he met with the single Huntsman coming his way.
"Why hello!" exclaimed the green haired man, he reached his hand out for a handshake. "What's your name?"
Confused, Ramirez took his hand off his rifle and shuck the man's hand. It felt shaky, like he was high on caffeine. So the standard Marine Infantryman, he thought.
"Ramirez, Corporal Ramirez."
He laughed. "Ah you military types, I'm Doctor Oobleck!" Oobleck pumped Ramirez's shorter frame around with a force that shouldn't have been possible. Ramirez chalked it up to Aura or whatever it was and not to his shitty handshake.
"Ah, uh, nice meeting your Doctor. I'll head over to your group now, and if you see someone named McCraw, tell him fuck you." replied Ramirez.
Oobleck stared at the Hispanic man curiously, then chuckled heartily. "Why I might Ramirez, until later."
"Yeah, seeya." Ramirez turned away and walked towards the group of, ah shit they were teenage girls.
The busty blonde girl swaggered up. "Ooo~~ what do we have here?" she poked him in the chest.
They're fucking underage, they're underage. He thought repeatedly.
"Yaaaannnnggg!" complained the red haired girl.
"I'm um, Corporal Ramirez, I suppose this is the part where you question me," Ramirez stammered out. He was trying very hard to keep his eyes at eye level.
The girls began to introduce themselves. Yang raised an eyebrow at his muscled frame. Ruby caught this and embarrassedly punched Yang in the shoulder. Ramirez simply chuckled, and tried to keep his eyes above the danger zone. From what he remembered Beacon was a school for teenagers to learn to fight, and he wasn't definitely not taking that chance, other world or not.
The girl in white, Weiss he remembered, spoke. "So who are you? We've never heard of anyone called the United States Marines Corps before."
Ramirez instantly blanked. "Uh, give me a sec, I need to ask something."
He turned away and spoke into his headset. "Lopez, this is Ramirez, over."
While he spoke over the radio, Ruby was busy trying to whisper discreetly into Weiss' ear.
"So uh, who do you think this is?" Ruby whispered loudly, very loudly.
Weiss tutted. "Ruby, you know that everyone can still hear you right?"
Ramirez didn't bother listening, but heard something, so called back. "Yeah Ruby, whatever she said!" and continued talking on the radio.
Her face turned bright red, and she shrunk into her cloak from the rest of everyone.
"Roger, Ramirez out." he released the PTT button and turned back to RWBY. "I'm allowed to tell you just about everything at this point. Shoot."
All four of them started speaking all at the same time, quickly Ramirez raised his hand and stopped them. "Woah woah, one at a time guys. Ruby, you're first."
She let out a small eep. "Um, uh, who are you and where you're from?"
Ramirez snorted at the young girl's shyness. "Mm long story, but guess I have to answer." he started to explain everything he could, within reason. By the end they were all slack jawed at the outlandish story.
The whitehaired one, Weiss, exclaimed. "No way! That's impossible! How do we know you're not just a group of bandits and making all of this up!"
Before he could speak Blake interjected. "The White Fang? No, they-"
"They killed a bunch of our people and now we're here to get some payback," Ramirez said icily, "and lady, have you ever seen a fucking flag like this?"
Weiss sputtered. "No, bu-"
Ramirez motioned to the ring of JLTVs. "Have you ever seen any of this shit over? Have any of you seen any of those vehicles anyways?"
RWBY remained quiet, looking down at their feet shuffling around.
"So you guys believe me yet or what?" he questioned.
Ruby scratched her head. "Um, I guess..." she started fiddling with her hands.
Ramirez took a cigarette out of one of his pouches and his lighter. "So, any more questions?"
RWBY looked like they were exploding with questions, but Ruby spoke first. "Um, can I touch your gun?"
Ramirez nearly choked on his cigarette.
/ - /
Carter stole a glance at the animated Doctor firing questions at the LT at a rate by a regular man.
He had been asking nonstop questions for the past five minutes, and rapidly scribbling down notes, while Dixon tried to interject to ask his own.
He had been scanning the area in front of him for the last while, and it was boring the hell out of him. So he opened the door to the JLTV and called out to McCraw.
"Fucker I'm bored! Entertain me." he yelled out.
"Dude, fuck off, I'm eating my fucking energy brick." replied McCraw, between bites of his food.
Carter sighed and looked back at his screen, but this time he thought he had seen something. He swung his turret back to where he had spotted it. He strained his eyes against the pixels on his LCD display to discern something, anything within the depths of the line of buildings.
It has to be here somewhere… he thought to himself, flipping through thermals and regular vision. Idly he reached for his radio.
The supersonic crack! rang out a bullet whizzed past his vehicle. Instinctively he ducked down, then realized he was in an armoured vehicle. So he reached over and slammed the door he had left open shut.
Looking at his display he quickly saw that he had been right. He had seen the muzzle flash light up a dark window. Unfortunately he had only seen it for a second and almost lost it right away.
Carter cursed loudly and depressed the trigger in the general direction of the sniper.
Outside, McCraw practically dove onto the ground. He scrambled up onto his feet and pressed himself against the JLTV. He looked around to take stock of the situation.
The radio blared in his ear. "All callsigns! This is 3 Mike!" that was the callsign for the platoon medic, Petty Officer 2nd Class Fisher, "Man down! Man down!"
"Fuck!" yelled out McCraw. "Where the fuck is Ramirez?"
His finger thumbed his radio. "Ramirez, this is McCraw! The fuck you're doing?"
He heard another shot, but no response on his radio. McCraw peered around the JLTV. No bullet whizzed towards his head. He could see Carter pounding the side of a building with the grenade launcher. He let out a breath of relief as he saw Ramirez pressed against a wall next to the group of Huntresses.
His horror returned when he saw their RTO on the ground bleeding heavily. Fisher was desperately trying to stop the bleeding while everyone else was running around trying to find the sniper.
He heard Carter on the radio. "This is 3-1 Bravo! I got the sniper, not sure if he's dead or not. Over"
Ramirez had heard the shot fly past him. He instinctively dove to the nearest piece of cover he could and tried to return fire. He then realized he was dealing with a sniper and forced himself down as fast as possible.
Ramirez had heard Carter over the radio, and certainly didn't want to be the one to test that statement.
The girls stood around confused, watching the side of a building get demolished by the Mark-Nineteen, he noticed Ruby standing mouth agape.
"Hey! Stop standing there slack jawed and cover me!" he yelled at them, hoping to get their attention.
Ruby let out a squeak, "Um! Sorry!"
To his disbelief, the petite girl who looked like he could be blown over by a leaf pulled out a transforming fucking scythe, holding it as if it was a feather. The other girls pulled out some tamer weapons, though still absolutely crazy.
Now it was his turn to stare in disbelief, "This is such bullshit..."
He peeked up from his wall to scan his surroundings, ducking down when he was forced down by machine gun fire from the White Fang pushing into the area.
He raised his voice to be heard above the growing firefight, "Hey! I'm going to need you guys to cover me while I get back to my platoon! Since I don't have an Aura or anything like that!"
They nodded, and started firing towards the incoming White Fang.
Ramirez turned around and launched himself into a sprint, rounds kicking up around him.
Fortunately for him, none of them struck home. He nearly tripped at the last moment, much to McCraw's amusement.
"Look! It's a wild stumbling Nathan!" joked McCraw as he squeezed off a few shots.
He took up a position besides McCraw, "Yeah, and it's the Terminal Lance I see."
"Ouch."
Ramirez keyed the radio. "All callsigns, this is 3-1 Bravo, do not shoot the four girls! Over!"
He tried to catch the girls attention. Luckily he did, and they fell back to the ring of vehicles. He then noticed Oobleck moving besides him.
"Fascinating! You Marines seem to have mastered the art of war quite well, if this is to judge," said Oobleck.
"Well si-" Ramirez began.
"Doctor, Corporal Ramirez," interjected Doctor Oobleck.
"Well, Doctor Oobleck, we have several wounded, so I'm gonna have to ask you to try and create an opening for our guys." Ramirez said. The Lieutenant certainly didn't know about this, but he hoped this would be what'll happen.
"Well I suppose Team RWBY and I will get started, this lines up with what we were trying to do anyways!" then Oobleck sped off to the incoming Team RWBY.
Ramirez looked around to try and find Lieutenant Dixon. All around him was essentially controlled chaos. The White Fang was trying to encircle the beleaguered Marines, while the Marines themselves were fighting back with everything they could.
He finally spotted the Lieutenant, and dashed over to him.
"Sir! I've gotten the locals to help us try and break out of this!" he said trying to be heard over the ongoing firefight.
Lieutenant glanced over from his JLTV radio, "Good initiative Corporal, but we still need to coordinate with them. Get them over here and load up!"
Ramirez considered for a second that he had told them to make an opening, and for all he could now, they would make one in the opposite direction they needed.
So he dashed around frantically trying to find the Huntsman and Huntresses, before he found them huddled behind his JLTV.
"Hey! Hey!" he yelled to get their attention, sliding to a stop besides them. "You guys need to coordinate with the Lieutenant, he's over there." he said pointing towards the LT's JLTV.
They nodded and moved with incredible speed over to the Lieutenant. Ramirez set up a firing position behind his JLTV and started squeezing rounds at the incoming White Fang forces.
His radio came on. "All callsigns, 3 Actual, mount up and prepare to commence breakout, over."
Ramirez scrambled around to the passenger side and practically jumped into the JLTV. McCraw entered besides him, starting the JLTV.
"Helluva welcoming party we got Nathan," remarked McCraw.
"Well, half of the welcoming party is already dead," replied Ramirez, trying to find the spare smoke grenades he left inside the JLTV.
To their right, they could see Team RWBY ripping into the unfortunate White Fang.
"Sucks to be them."
Ramirez patted McCraw on the arm, "Yeah, now let's get the fuck out of here."
/ - /
Watching the Huntresses work was amazing. Talking to them gave the impression that they were just a bunch of teenage girls. No, they were teenage girls, just ones with inhuman abilities. However, with RWBY flying all over the place, the Marines could hardly try to help them without hitting them.
"All callsigns, this is 3 Actual, commence breakout. Watch your fire around the Huntresses. 1 is on point, 3 is covering the rear arc, 2 is in the middle covering left and right. Commence breakout. Out."
Ramirez's JLTV started forward, happening to be first in the convoy. Rounds pinging off the armoured skin of the armoured vehicle, the small arms of the White Fang couldn't penetrate it. Inside Odin was barking at the White Fang outside, chomping at the bit to go attack one.
"Great, so now we're the bullet magnet!" complained McCraw. "And calm down Odin!"
"I'm trying!" said Price, holding Odin down.
Outside the vehicle, RWBY was shredding through the helpless mooks. Ramirez could see Ruby dashing around with savage speed, ripping through a small group of White Fang, he could hear their muffled yells through the armoured carapace of the JLTV.
"Motherfucker!" shouted Carter, having been silent this entire time, engaging various targets.
"What?' questioned McCraw. "Is there something that can actually pierce our vics?"
Ramirez was pumped up, but couldn't do much inside the JLTV, so he watched. Team RWBY was working more as separate forces as nature, all crashing into the unprepared White Fang at once. They weren't exactly fighting as a cohesive force, all fighting their separate enemies. Then again, they certainly didn't need to against the untrained fighters.
"The blonde asshole nearly jumped into one of my shots! Could have killed the motherfucker!"
Outside Ramirez could see Yang turn to their vic with red eyes, the next second they turned back to their normal lilac. She then turned back to her fight with a retreating group of White Fang.
"I think we just nearly escaped death Carter," observed Ramirez.
Before Carter could respond, they heard an explosion from behind them. Had a vehicle been disabled? If so that could throw a giant fucking wrench in their plans.
"This is 3-3, we've been hit by an RPG," came the voice of Sergeant Goring. "We're a bit banged up but the JLTV is still working. We'll be fine, over."
Lieutenant Dixon came on the radio, "3-3, 3 Actual. Roger, we'll task the Huntresses to cover our rear, out."
"Looks like those RPG protection packages were worth it," commented Price, having spent all this time calming down Odin.
Looking up ahead, team RWBY had moved so far ahead of them, so far that they wouldn't realize if the convoy stopped...
Outside, everything suddenly started to quiet down. The hairs on the nape of his neck began to tingle. His fingers tensed, something was wrong.
The ground in front of him exploded upwards, throwing asphalt all over them. The JLTV launched from the concussive blast, throwing him forward in his seat. There was a moment of time where they were airborne, but as soon as it happened, they were back on the ground, moving forward again, albeit at a slower pace.
Ramirez stared at himself, he was perfectly fine, besides the taste of blood inside his mouth. His JLTV was still running however. It was clear whatever IED the White Fang had, it wasn't enough to disable his JLTV.
"Fuck! Go, go, go! Fucking punch it!" yelled Ramirez. He snatched the radio handset from it's place. "This is 3-1 Bravo! We're fine, we ne-"
Ramirez was interrupted by a White Fang grunt popping out from a window with an RPG, before he could call it out, the RPG was already flying. Luckily, the rocket missed by a fair margin and hit the ground next to him, throwing it up and nearing flipping the car over.
The moment the JLTV hit the ground, it was already speeding ahead. They had been going at a jogging pace to let Team RWBY keep up with them, but that was certainly not a concern now. Quickly Ramirez got on the radio to let everyone know that they were fine.
The convoy rapidly passed by the huntresses, whose mouths gaped at the fresh battlescar on the battle trucks. Ramirez cheekily waved at the bitchy one, or Weiss, as he remembered.
Soon, it was all silent around them. It looked like they had broken out of the White Fang perimeter. Still, Ramirez kept alert incase of any more surprises by their new enemy. The radio came on, it's noise crackling through his headset.
"This is 3-3 Bravo, why is there a bunch of girls hanging off my vic? Over." came the voice of Lance Corporal Smith, the driver of the rear JLTV.
Ramirez looked at McCraw.
McCraw looked at Ramirez.
The entire JLTV erupted into cacophonous laughter.
/ - /
The White Fang sniper watched the convoy of vehicles leave.
He was nursing his shrapnel wound, his rifle behind him. He longed to give the humans a parting gift, but that would just result in his death.
He cursed the untrained mooks that had botched their assault on the humans, they had not moved quickly enough on the Marines, and let them escape. He himself had barely survived, owing his survival to his quick reaction and lucky piece of cover. At the very least he knew he had killed, no way he could have survived.
He would need to report back to the human Torchwick. The sniper spat on the ground, he despised working with him, but he was a means to an end. Torchwick would likely belittle him, telling him to go be with "the other animals".
He heard the footsteps behind him, Perry, he remembered.
"Sir, uh, we've taken at least thirty casualties. Should we go back now?" Perry asked nervously.
Thirty dead under his watch, had they only listened to him, more would have lived.
"Go get everyone in order. I'll follow."
Perry quickly scampered off, eager to get away from the quiet killer.
His eyes bored into the departing vehicles. He would get them back, someday.
/ - /
C A/N: Yeah, that's a wrap. Man these chapters take a while to write, moreso to my schedule than to anything else. Corona might actually give me more time to write, who knows.
Stay safe people, don't get Corona, it'll turn into the zombie plague at this rate.
A/N: Thank you all for your patience as TopHat and myself release these chapters. As I am sure you all know, COVID-19 is escalating in terms of infection rates, but please do not panic. Listen to the CDC and/or your local health departments for updates on the virus.
As always, I am thankful to topHat for his amazing writing skills, and I hope you all stay healthy.