---
-III-
---
When Glenn Gordon finally came to after his rough ride through the woods in a state-of-the-art aircraft that was now blackened, smoking, and crumpled in every inch of its frame, he didn't even realize he had been knocked out somewhere along the way. To him, the plane had been bumpily rushing towards an unknown target in the forest with no sign of stopping, and then suddenly, he was looking around the cockpit without any idea of what was going on, no hint of blacking out. He looked around, but everything was gray and hazy. Maybe he was still woozy from the ride.
He looked around more. It was deathly quiet. So quiet, in fact, he could almost hear his heart beating. He wondered if he had gone deaf. What was worse, though, was the realization that Blue Moon forces could have spotted him going down and come rushing to get his remains, maybe to either force him to talk of Green Earth's intentions or just plain hold him hostage. But then again, he remembered Blue Moon hardly ever took hostages. Yeah, they'd just kill him instead.
Then he realized he couldn't breathe. Something around him was keeping him from gulping air.
Smoke had consumed the entire cockpit. It was so smokey, he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, nor could he see the controls where he could open the canopy. He struggled around, looking for the correct button in the cockpit that did so, until he finally hit what was the right one. The canopy flew open, allowing the smoke to pour out into the air.
Now, he was faced with another problem. Blue Moon could see the smoke from the forest, most likely, and they'd come looking for him. He was sure to be captured if he didn't get going.
He almost ripped off his aviation helmet and tossed it to the floor of the cockpit at his feet, then undoing his safety belts, he began to steadily climb out of the dead fighter.
On the ground, Glenn finally realized where he was now. He was still in the damned forest, and he didn't even know which way to go. He looked around, possibly for signs of life, but the only life he saw was a chipmunk racing along on a branch, somehow having not run away like it was on Hell skates when a Green Earth fighter jet came crashing into its humble home.
He checked himself for injury. None, apparently, although he found he probably had a couple of cuts on his face when he felt it with his hand and saw a bit of blood. The ride through the forest had been enough to throw his head all around the seat. He'd probably cut his face somewhere along the way.
Then he noticed he was still wearing his belt, with nothing but a wallet with his Green Earth air force pilot identification and a gun's holster on it. He grabbed at the leather holster, making sure his handgun hadn't somehow dissapeared on him somewhere along during his unscheduled landing in Whoknowswhereville. It hadn't, but he wasn't carrying any extra ammunition with him. The ten rounds in the gun would be all the protection he had against Blue Moon if they found him.
He decided he'd better get moving. He wasn't about to let himself get caught by the enemy.
Although he had had his mind on other things of signifigance when his plane was heading towards the ground, he had seen a northern city out of the upper corner of his eye while dealing with a plane that was steadily losing fuel. Now, he wondered if he could get there without being caught, or get there in the first place. He had no idea where he was.
But then he noticed his plane on the ground was facing the same direction it had gone down in. That meant it must have been facing north, or at least he hoped. There was no way to tell exactly, but he decided that heading the same direction the plane had its nose facing was his best bet of finding the city.
So, he began walking north, or what he thought was north. Although the forest was pretty, it was rather dull until he finally got to the edge after what must have been two hours of walking. By the time he got there, he realized he had another long walk ahead of him. The plains went on and on, it seemed, but nevertheless, he continued his trek until he could finally see the city in the distance.
It's about time, he thought to himself. The city had looked closer in the cockpit of the falling plane.
Then something snapped that almost infuriated Glenn on the spot. He hadn't seen the plains in the cockpit of that fighter. What was the matter with him? He had been going the wrong damned way the whole time through the forest and across the plains. Now he was even more lost in Blue Moon territory, he, a pilot with no better weapon than a handgun against insurmountable odds behind enemy lines. He immediately felt like he had had numbers over ahead that were slowly ticking away, the sign of what was to probably come.
He fell to the grassy ground on his behind. He didn't care if he got his green already-dirty pilot suit messed up. Maybe Blue Moon would see him out here sitting on the ground like an idiot, seemingly waiting for them to come and get him.
But then, something pulled him to his feet just seconds after he had hit the ground. It was the desire to get back to the 56th base, back to his friends, and out of this hateful place he was in so he could get back in a new plane and beat the daylights out of Olaf's enslaved troops. A place like this almost made him miss Captain Shamrock and his insane orders, Dario Yossarian and his extreme ways of having a good time in life, and John Winters and his stoney glares. Hell, he even missed "Krazy Kel" Logan and his creepy-- well, Kel was just plain creepy. But he still almost found himself missing every one of them thanks to his new surroundings.
Somehow, he started walking again towards the city, this time more drearily now that he knew he was plain lost.
A good hour later, Glenn found himself walking along on downtown sidewalks of the city. People kept giving him odd looks, mainly because of the scuffs and small scratches on his face, and because of the official Green Earth pilot suit and gunbelt. The suit was one of the only things pilots wore only when they were in the skies, usually.
His stomach rumbled loudly. Someone who was passing by him on the sidewalk gave him a rather peculiar look.
He sighed, realizing he was very, very hungry, but he only had a few dollars on him in his wallet. Only about three days earlier, Dario had conned him into giving him money to buy nearly a dozen magazines at the local town convenience store, those strange magazines that were "behind the counter". Then he had been almost ordered to buy the man a meal and a half at a greasy burger joint. Glenn had unwillingly accepted for both events, but now he regretted it.
He'd have to get something to eat before anything else, he was starving. Maybe he'd find a restroom, too, but that would be later. He earnestly stepped up to a hotdog stand that was on the sidewalk of the busy downtown streets, already able to smell the aroma of steaming pork.
"What'll it be, soldier?"
The young man who was maintaining the stand didn't appear to care that Glenn was in a Green Earth aviation uniform. Perhaps he didn't like Blue Moon and was rooting for the opposing side. All this did was make Glenn feel even worse about the war then he previously had.
"Just a dog, please." The man smiled at him and began working his business, rounding up the necessities for the food.
That was when someone uttered a rather noticable obscenity next to him. The obscenity had been centered on someone in his area, probably him, he thought. He turned around to look at the man who had spoken and give him a few words of irritated wisdom that weren't exactly what the old village elder talking to his tribe would say, but that was when Glenn Gordon realized the man's words were fully justified.
He could hear the sound of army boots all marching together at the same time, clomping along on the ground. The cars by him had all stopped, too. Everyone who had been in line at the hotdog stand was looking over towards the intersection, but his view was blocked by a hefty sidewalk-goer who was gawking at the sight like a dimwit. Everyone else who had been walking on the sidewalk, minding their own business, was stopped and looking at whatever it was they were looking at, rather frightened expressions on their faces.
Glenn couldn't see what everyone was getting so worried over. All he could see was the backside of a large man who looked like he needed to get his big behind on a stairmaster sometime. His view was basically completely blocked.
"What in blue blazes are they all looking at?" He said irritatedly. The young man who was working the hotdog stand obviously couldn't see either thanks to the cow on the sidewalk. Glenn just recieved a shrug from the worker in response.
The huge man finally moved. He took off in a steady walk away from whatever the heck was scaring everyone so much. "Blue Moon is taking the city," he said to the two men at the stand, quietly as to not raise attention from Blue Moon, trying to hide the scare in his face as best he could. He couldn't.
Blue Moon was taking the city? Glenn looked over towards the intersection where all the cars that were on the road had stopped, green light or not.
That's when he saw them. There must have been about fifty of the blue- suited bastards, all marching down the street's pavement together, eight- abreast with the line of the soldiers continuing on down the road for as far as Glenn could see. They were all carrying machine guns, too.
He quickly and frightfully shifted his view towards the other road at the intersection. Rolling slowly down the road in the distance were a dozen or so blue and very large tanks. Medium tanks, as they often put it. "Oh no," he muttered to himself, and as if things weren't bad enough, it appeared another whole division of Blue Moon infantry was marching steadily along behind the tanks, only this time they were carrying bazookas along with their machine guns.
"You'd better run, Green boy!" The man who was working the hotdog stand had come out from behind the stand and nudged him quite hard. "This place is about to become hell!"
Had he heard right? Were all these Blue Moon forces here to capture little old him or something? He almost felt proud and scared at the same time.
"Orange Star infantry and mech forces are in town. Blue Moon's comin' to clean them up, and good too, but I think Orange Star's got the jump on 'em. They're up in those buildings over there." Oh.
"But I think if I were you, Green, I'd run anyway. The Blue Mooners aren't about to let you get away either if they see you in that getup of yours. It'll be like a round of fox huntin' if they see you."
The man had a point. Now was his best bet to get moving, but if his feeling was correct, Blue Moon was coming in from about all sides of the city. That was the keypoint in taking over a town, block all exits and the place was yours. Or at least whoever you worked for's.
"Wait, how do you know Orange Star is here?"
"Don't you worry about that." The young man flashed him a wink.
"You take care of yourself," Glenn told the kid with a quick nod.
"You too, flyboy." The worker nodded back to him. Without a second thought, Glenn began walking with a brisk pace away from the scene. He couldn't run without the enemy forces going after him instantly, and if he stayed, they'd capture him for sure. He had no idea what he should do.
By now, the streets were almost totally empty. Everyone had rushed inside buildings they didn't even know of when they saw Blue Moon.
Only fifteen seconds into his walk, gunshots rang out.
But they didn't stop there. More gunshots pierced his hearing. Glenn hurriedly dropped to the ground on his stomach like a ragdoll, covering his head. Then, something told him to get his butt up and get it moving as fast as he could for somewhere, anywhere inside. He wisely did so.
He took off in a lightning-fast run towards a coffee shop that was down the street a short distance from the intersection he had previously been by. He almost blew through the door, which ended up scaring all of the hiding customers and employees almost more than the gunshots did.
Down the street, about thirty seconds earlier, up in one of the three story buildings that lined along the street, a uniformed Orange Star soldier held a pair of binoculars up to his face as he looked out the third story window towards the coming enemy forces. "Wait for my signal," someone said behind him.
All along the buildings, there were Orange Star infantry and mech soldiers at almost every window, carefully aiming their machine guns and bazookas out at the intruding Blue Moon forces. It looked as though almost all first, second, and third story windows were open and were the current hiding points of infantry and mech units.
When the right time came, a more proudly-uniformed Orange Star officer lowered his fist-clenched hand, not realizing no one was there to see it drop except a few soldiers next to him who apparently didn't have roles in the coming fight except to watch like monkeys. "Proceed!"
Suddenly, every Orange Star soldier who was at an open building window unleashed firearm fury on the blue-suited and gun-toting soldiers who were walking down the streets like perfect targets. Almost instantly, some of the blue in a good portion of the Blue Moon soldiers' uniforms were replaced with red. They dropped to the ground as the remaining Blue Moon forces looked around, wondering what was going on.
The shooting continued. More Blue Moon forces dropped. Now, the Blue Mooners knew what was happening and they were starting to fire back at the open windows where guns could be seen being fired in the direction of blue- suited soldiers and blue-painted tanks.
The noise from the guns drowned out all other sounds in the downtown area of the city. It got painfully loud for everyone who was at the scene of the sudden battle, and people who were working in the nearby office buildings were busy evacuating now that shots were being heard, not knowing going outside was quite a bad idea.
A whole slew of Orange Star soldiers came running out of the buildings the Blue Moon soldiers were shooting at. They immediately began returning fire towards their blue-uniformed enemies, who only now were beginning to find some means of cover. Some of the Blue Mooners had to punch glass windows out with their guns in order to get into restaraunts for cover from enemy fire thanks to locked doors and "closed" signs managers had immediately put up when the shooting started.
Glenn Gordon was busy trying to keep he and everyone else hiding in the coffeehouse cool, but it was an almost impossible task with all the ruckus. One could hardly hear themselves think.
"Is there a back door here!?" One of the young employees looked up from her hiding place behind the counter and pointed towards the back of the shop. Glenn instantly took off for the exit in the back, but to his sudden and heartstopping surprise, a Blue Moon soldier with a very impending bazooka came rushing in through the back door. Both Glenn and the soldier almost did a double take when they saw each other.
Unfortunately for the soldier, Glenn Gordon was able to draw out his sidearm and pump a round of lead into his body quicker than he was able to blast the place to smithereens with whatever lay inside his bazooka, yearning to be fired for a good case of destruction.
But then another blue-clad soldier came in. Then another.
Glenn immediately turned and sped off towards the front of the shop while the soldiers grabbed for the machine guns they had. He somehow got around a corner in time before they fired at him. The rounds from their guns blasted through the glass windows of the shop, instantly causing them to break up and shatter into a thousand pieces.
He could hear the two shouting at each other. "Was that a Green Earth guy!?"
"Who cares, get him!" The two soldiers instantly began a run towards the front of the shop, where the employees and customers were still cowering in fear. As soon as one of them rounded the corner that was basically right in the front of the store where people ordered and the like, two gunshots suddenly rang out, but these gunshots were much closer than the ones outside. The Blue Moon soldier fell back and hit the ground, cursing out loudly as the other one stopped so quickly he almost fell over. He took cover behind the corner's wall, gripping his machine gun as he waited a few seconds before he peeked around to check and see if whatever had blasted the blazes out of his comrade was still there, lurking in the shadows.
"POOM!" A round from the same handgun that had killed the first Blue Moon soldier ripped some of the corner's paint off.
The Blue Mooner immediately stepped back into his little area of cover, gritting his teeth as a sweatdrop ran down his head. "Come out and give yourself up, whoever you are!"
"Not a chance," said a voice that was over where he suspected the enemy was.
The Blue Moon soldier continued to stand there for the next few seconds until he took what was a very risky chance. He turned slightly, raising his machine gun, and let loose some ten rounds before he successfully hid back behind the wall. Had he succeeded?
"You think that'll stop me, you Blue Moon scum?!" Apparently, no.
A massive blast rocked the entire area then. Outside, a medium tank had obviously blown a nearby building to pieces. It was hard to tell who was winning now; Orange Star or Blue Moon
"Give yourself up, I said!"
Irritatedly, Glenn Gordon raised his handgun again and popped off three rounds at the wall's corner, hoping to both hit the Blue Moon soldier somewhere and shut his mouth at the same time, but neither feat was accomplished. "You're not getting away, buddy," the Blue Mooner growled.
This was getting old, and fast. Glenn gritted his teeth. He had to watch himself, he was running out of ammo quickly. He had only a few more bullets left until he would be forced to either run like the blazes or just give up, but then, he heard something from the soldier that, if correctly answered, would give the blue-clad person a surprise, most likely.
"Are you with Green Earth or what!?"
Glenn paused for a few seconds, wondering whether he should tell the soldier the truth or not.
"What do you care?"
Behind the wall, the Blue Moon soldier frowned, but he still figured it was Green Earth. He had been the one of the two soldiers who came in the back together to notice the familiar outfit the man he was now fighting was wearing. His impatient comrade was dead now, probably because he had just figured he would be killing a normal civilian. "What are you doing here?"
"That's none of Blue Moon's concern." The soldier had no idea what he should do, but that was when Orange Star forces rushed into the coffee shop, their weapons raised, ready to fire at about anything that was blue. The fighting had stopped, apparently.
The Blue Moon soldier took off in a scare out the back way before Orange Star could mow him down. Glenn Gordon's fight was over. Shakily, he stood to his feet, realizing that had been his first actual gunfight with Blue Moon. Sure, he had taken out some enemy forces in planes before, but he had never been in a real gun battle with enemy infantry shooting back. He almost felt good about it, that he had defeated the Blue Mooners in such a short time, even if he had only been fighting three of them.
"Hey, you're the missing Green Earth pilot."
One of the Orange Star soldiers was talking to him. He was the what?
"Huh?"
"You're the missing Green Earth pilot, aren't you?"
Glenn blinked. Orange Star knew of his dissapearence from the ranks of the 56th squadron base. Green Earth had most likely told Orange Star to be on the lookout for a possibly dead pilot who had crashed in Blue Moon territory if they were passing through cities and woods, and the such. Somehow, they had successfully found him.
"Yeah, I guess I am, if you mean a Green Earth fighter pilot who went down in the woods inside a jet that was starting to turn into a comet."
The Orange Star soldier who he was conversing with smiled. "You're safe now."
That was nice to know, although he didn't exactly believe the man. "Are you taking me with you?" He prayed they would say yes. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in this demolished, smoldering city that was probably still neutral, despite the fact Orange Star had apparently won the battle with the Blue Moon forces. "Of course we are, son. Come on, let's get you to an APC around here."
As they exited the coffee shop, Glenn saw just how big the battle had been. Soldiers' bodies were still lying around, there was massive damage to the buildings around the downtown area too, caused by medium tanks that were now sitting peacefully, obviously dead from bazooka rounds fired by Orange Star mech units.
The Orange Star soldiers led him to a group of APCs that was taking the wounded and others back to somewhere. He didn't know where yet. Thankful of the forces that he was with now, he climbed into the back of one of the APCs, and allowed himself to smile weakly. He was so tired, he could hardly bloody smile.
After a couple of minutes, the group of APCs were on the move, and so was Glenn Gordon. Finally, on the move, towards safety.
---
Roger Winters was in the local town bar by the Clinton air base, and he had brought along a friend of his too, one who went by the name of Dario Paul Yossarian. The man called Yossarian had relentlessly bugged the living stink out of Winters, up to the point where if he didn't go take the idiot along with him to get a beer he'd be forever outcast as a good leader by the man who had spread many, many rumors about people before.
He was sitting at the bar sipping a light soda. Yossarian had conned him out of the five dollars he had brought with him. Now, he was boredly watching the television in the roof's corner of the bar. The news was on, and it would not quit about the battle between Orange Star and Blue Moon in the neutral city earlier. So Orange Star and Blue Moon fought a little, it wasn't like it was absolutely universe-shattering news. Reporters and their "hot stories." But then, he saw someone on the news, on one of those awful "amateur video" things, someone racing along on the sidewalk who looked deathly familiar.
Immediateley, Roger Winters slapped the hell out of Dario Yossarian's back, causing the already-plowed man to grunt noisily. "Yossarian, get back to base on the double, I'll be there myself in a little bit! Meet outside the General's office as soon as possible, we must inform General Winters and Captain Shamrock of something, and quickly!"
-III-
---
When Glenn Gordon finally came to after his rough ride through the woods in a state-of-the-art aircraft that was now blackened, smoking, and crumpled in every inch of its frame, he didn't even realize he had been knocked out somewhere along the way. To him, the plane had been bumpily rushing towards an unknown target in the forest with no sign of stopping, and then suddenly, he was looking around the cockpit without any idea of what was going on, no hint of blacking out. He looked around, but everything was gray and hazy. Maybe he was still woozy from the ride.
He looked around more. It was deathly quiet. So quiet, in fact, he could almost hear his heart beating. He wondered if he had gone deaf. What was worse, though, was the realization that Blue Moon forces could have spotted him going down and come rushing to get his remains, maybe to either force him to talk of Green Earth's intentions or just plain hold him hostage. But then again, he remembered Blue Moon hardly ever took hostages. Yeah, they'd just kill him instead.
Then he realized he couldn't breathe. Something around him was keeping him from gulping air.
Smoke had consumed the entire cockpit. It was so smokey, he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, nor could he see the controls where he could open the canopy. He struggled around, looking for the correct button in the cockpit that did so, until he finally hit what was the right one. The canopy flew open, allowing the smoke to pour out into the air.
Now, he was faced with another problem. Blue Moon could see the smoke from the forest, most likely, and they'd come looking for him. He was sure to be captured if he didn't get going.
He almost ripped off his aviation helmet and tossed it to the floor of the cockpit at his feet, then undoing his safety belts, he began to steadily climb out of the dead fighter.
On the ground, Glenn finally realized where he was now. He was still in the damned forest, and he didn't even know which way to go. He looked around, possibly for signs of life, but the only life he saw was a chipmunk racing along on a branch, somehow having not run away like it was on Hell skates when a Green Earth fighter jet came crashing into its humble home.
He checked himself for injury. None, apparently, although he found he probably had a couple of cuts on his face when he felt it with his hand and saw a bit of blood. The ride through the forest had been enough to throw his head all around the seat. He'd probably cut his face somewhere along the way.
Then he noticed he was still wearing his belt, with nothing but a wallet with his Green Earth air force pilot identification and a gun's holster on it. He grabbed at the leather holster, making sure his handgun hadn't somehow dissapeared on him somewhere along during his unscheduled landing in Whoknowswhereville. It hadn't, but he wasn't carrying any extra ammunition with him. The ten rounds in the gun would be all the protection he had against Blue Moon if they found him.
He decided he'd better get moving. He wasn't about to let himself get caught by the enemy.
Although he had had his mind on other things of signifigance when his plane was heading towards the ground, he had seen a northern city out of the upper corner of his eye while dealing with a plane that was steadily losing fuel. Now, he wondered if he could get there without being caught, or get there in the first place. He had no idea where he was.
But then he noticed his plane on the ground was facing the same direction it had gone down in. That meant it must have been facing north, or at least he hoped. There was no way to tell exactly, but he decided that heading the same direction the plane had its nose facing was his best bet of finding the city.
So, he began walking north, or what he thought was north. Although the forest was pretty, it was rather dull until he finally got to the edge after what must have been two hours of walking. By the time he got there, he realized he had another long walk ahead of him. The plains went on and on, it seemed, but nevertheless, he continued his trek until he could finally see the city in the distance.
It's about time, he thought to himself. The city had looked closer in the cockpit of the falling plane.
Then something snapped that almost infuriated Glenn on the spot. He hadn't seen the plains in the cockpit of that fighter. What was the matter with him? He had been going the wrong damned way the whole time through the forest and across the plains. Now he was even more lost in Blue Moon territory, he, a pilot with no better weapon than a handgun against insurmountable odds behind enemy lines. He immediately felt like he had had numbers over ahead that were slowly ticking away, the sign of what was to probably come.
He fell to the grassy ground on his behind. He didn't care if he got his green already-dirty pilot suit messed up. Maybe Blue Moon would see him out here sitting on the ground like an idiot, seemingly waiting for them to come and get him.
But then, something pulled him to his feet just seconds after he had hit the ground. It was the desire to get back to the 56th base, back to his friends, and out of this hateful place he was in so he could get back in a new plane and beat the daylights out of Olaf's enslaved troops. A place like this almost made him miss Captain Shamrock and his insane orders, Dario Yossarian and his extreme ways of having a good time in life, and John Winters and his stoney glares. Hell, he even missed "Krazy Kel" Logan and his creepy-- well, Kel was just plain creepy. But he still almost found himself missing every one of them thanks to his new surroundings.
Somehow, he started walking again towards the city, this time more drearily now that he knew he was plain lost.
A good hour later, Glenn found himself walking along on downtown sidewalks of the city. People kept giving him odd looks, mainly because of the scuffs and small scratches on his face, and because of the official Green Earth pilot suit and gunbelt. The suit was one of the only things pilots wore only when they were in the skies, usually.
His stomach rumbled loudly. Someone who was passing by him on the sidewalk gave him a rather peculiar look.
He sighed, realizing he was very, very hungry, but he only had a few dollars on him in his wallet. Only about three days earlier, Dario had conned him into giving him money to buy nearly a dozen magazines at the local town convenience store, those strange magazines that were "behind the counter". Then he had been almost ordered to buy the man a meal and a half at a greasy burger joint. Glenn had unwillingly accepted for both events, but now he regretted it.
He'd have to get something to eat before anything else, he was starving. Maybe he'd find a restroom, too, but that would be later. He earnestly stepped up to a hotdog stand that was on the sidewalk of the busy downtown streets, already able to smell the aroma of steaming pork.
"What'll it be, soldier?"
The young man who was maintaining the stand didn't appear to care that Glenn was in a Green Earth aviation uniform. Perhaps he didn't like Blue Moon and was rooting for the opposing side. All this did was make Glenn feel even worse about the war then he previously had.
"Just a dog, please." The man smiled at him and began working his business, rounding up the necessities for the food.
That was when someone uttered a rather noticable obscenity next to him. The obscenity had been centered on someone in his area, probably him, he thought. He turned around to look at the man who had spoken and give him a few words of irritated wisdom that weren't exactly what the old village elder talking to his tribe would say, but that was when Glenn Gordon realized the man's words were fully justified.
He could hear the sound of army boots all marching together at the same time, clomping along on the ground. The cars by him had all stopped, too. Everyone who had been in line at the hotdog stand was looking over towards the intersection, but his view was blocked by a hefty sidewalk-goer who was gawking at the sight like a dimwit. Everyone else who had been walking on the sidewalk, minding their own business, was stopped and looking at whatever it was they were looking at, rather frightened expressions on their faces.
Glenn couldn't see what everyone was getting so worried over. All he could see was the backside of a large man who looked like he needed to get his big behind on a stairmaster sometime. His view was basically completely blocked.
"What in blue blazes are they all looking at?" He said irritatedly. The young man who was working the hotdog stand obviously couldn't see either thanks to the cow on the sidewalk. Glenn just recieved a shrug from the worker in response.
The huge man finally moved. He took off in a steady walk away from whatever the heck was scaring everyone so much. "Blue Moon is taking the city," he said to the two men at the stand, quietly as to not raise attention from Blue Moon, trying to hide the scare in his face as best he could. He couldn't.
Blue Moon was taking the city? Glenn looked over towards the intersection where all the cars that were on the road had stopped, green light or not.
That's when he saw them. There must have been about fifty of the blue- suited bastards, all marching down the street's pavement together, eight- abreast with the line of the soldiers continuing on down the road for as far as Glenn could see. They were all carrying machine guns, too.
He quickly and frightfully shifted his view towards the other road at the intersection. Rolling slowly down the road in the distance were a dozen or so blue and very large tanks. Medium tanks, as they often put it. "Oh no," he muttered to himself, and as if things weren't bad enough, it appeared another whole division of Blue Moon infantry was marching steadily along behind the tanks, only this time they were carrying bazookas along with their machine guns.
"You'd better run, Green boy!" The man who was working the hotdog stand had come out from behind the stand and nudged him quite hard. "This place is about to become hell!"
Had he heard right? Were all these Blue Moon forces here to capture little old him or something? He almost felt proud and scared at the same time.
"Orange Star infantry and mech forces are in town. Blue Moon's comin' to clean them up, and good too, but I think Orange Star's got the jump on 'em. They're up in those buildings over there." Oh.
"But I think if I were you, Green, I'd run anyway. The Blue Mooners aren't about to let you get away either if they see you in that getup of yours. It'll be like a round of fox huntin' if they see you."
The man had a point. Now was his best bet to get moving, but if his feeling was correct, Blue Moon was coming in from about all sides of the city. That was the keypoint in taking over a town, block all exits and the place was yours. Or at least whoever you worked for's.
"Wait, how do you know Orange Star is here?"
"Don't you worry about that." The young man flashed him a wink.
"You take care of yourself," Glenn told the kid with a quick nod.
"You too, flyboy." The worker nodded back to him. Without a second thought, Glenn began walking with a brisk pace away from the scene. He couldn't run without the enemy forces going after him instantly, and if he stayed, they'd capture him for sure. He had no idea what he should do.
By now, the streets were almost totally empty. Everyone had rushed inside buildings they didn't even know of when they saw Blue Moon.
Only fifteen seconds into his walk, gunshots rang out.
But they didn't stop there. More gunshots pierced his hearing. Glenn hurriedly dropped to the ground on his stomach like a ragdoll, covering his head. Then, something told him to get his butt up and get it moving as fast as he could for somewhere, anywhere inside. He wisely did so.
He took off in a lightning-fast run towards a coffee shop that was down the street a short distance from the intersection he had previously been by. He almost blew through the door, which ended up scaring all of the hiding customers and employees almost more than the gunshots did.
Down the street, about thirty seconds earlier, up in one of the three story buildings that lined along the street, a uniformed Orange Star soldier held a pair of binoculars up to his face as he looked out the third story window towards the coming enemy forces. "Wait for my signal," someone said behind him.
All along the buildings, there were Orange Star infantry and mech soldiers at almost every window, carefully aiming their machine guns and bazookas out at the intruding Blue Moon forces. It looked as though almost all first, second, and third story windows were open and were the current hiding points of infantry and mech units.
When the right time came, a more proudly-uniformed Orange Star officer lowered his fist-clenched hand, not realizing no one was there to see it drop except a few soldiers next to him who apparently didn't have roles in the coming fight except to watch like monkeys. "Proceed!"
Suddenly, every Orange Star soldier who was at an open building window unleashed firearm fury on the blue-suited and gun-toting soldiers who were walking down the streets like perfect targets. Almost instantly, some of the blue in a good portion of the Blue Moon soldiers' uniforms were replaced with red. They dropped to the ground as the remaining Blue Moon forces looked around, wondering what was going on.
The shooting continued. More Blue Moon forces dropped. Now, the Blue Mooners knew what was happening and they were starting to fire back at the open windows where guns could be seen being fired in the direction of blue- suited soldiers and blue-painted tanks.
The noise from the guns drowned out all other sounds in the downtown area of the city. It got painfully loud for everyone who was at the scene of the sudden battle, and people who were working in the nearby office buildings were busy evacuating now that shots were being heard, not knowing going outside was quite a bad idea.
A whole slew of Orange Star soldiers came running out of the buildings the Blue Moon soldiers were shooting at. They immediately began returning fire towards their blue-uniformed enemies, who only now were beginning to find some means of cover. Some of the Blue Mooners had to punch glass windows out with their guns in order to get into restaraunts for cover from enemy fire thanks to locked doors and "closed" signs managers had immediately put up when the shooting started.
Glenn Gordon was busy trying to keep he and everyone else hiding in the coffeehouse cool, but it was an almost impossible task with all the ruckus. One could hardly hear themselves think.
"Is there a back door here!?" One of the young employees looked up from her hiding place behind the counter and pointed towards the back of the shop. Glenn instantly took off for the exit in the back, but to his sudden and heartstopping surprise, a Blue Moon soldier with a very impending bazooka came rushing in through the back door. Both Glenn and the soldier almost did a double take when they saw each other.
Unfortunately for the soldier, Glenn Gordon was able to draw out his sidearm and pump a round of lead into his body quicker than he was able to blast the place to smithereens with whatever lay inside his bazooka, yearning to be fired for a good case of destruction.
But then another blue-clad soldier came in. Then another.
Glenn immediately turned and sped off towards the front of the shop while the soldiers grabbed for the machine guns they had. He somehow got around a corner in time before they fired at him. The rounds from their guns blasted through the glass windows of the shop, instantly causing them to break up and shatter into a thousand pieces.
He could hear the two shouting at each other. "Was that a Green Earth guy!?"
"Who cares, get him!" The two soldiers instantly began a run towards the front of the shop, where the employees and customers were still cowering in fear. As soon as one of them rounded the corner that was basically right in the front of the store where people ordered and the like, two gunshots suddenly rang out, but these gunshots were much closer than the ones outside. The Blue Moon soldier fell back and hit the ground, cursing out loudly as the other one stopped so quickly he almost fell over. He took cover behind the corner's wall, gripping his machine gun as he waited a few seconds before he peeked around to check and see if whatever had blasted the blazes out of his comrade was still there, lurking in the shadows.
"POOM!" A round from the same handgun that had killed the first Blue Moon soldier ripped some of the corner's paint off.
The Blue Mooner immediately stepped back into his little area of cover, gritting his teeth as a sweatdrop ran down his head. "Come out and give yourself up, whoever you are!"
"Not a chance," said a voice that was over where he suspected the enemy was.
The Blue Moon soldier continued to stand there for the next few seconds until he took what was a very risky chance. He turned slightly, raising his machine gun, and let loose some ten rounds before he successfully hid back behind the wall. Had he succeeded?
"You think that'll stop me, you Blue Moon scum?!" Apparently, no.
A massive blast rocked the entire area then. Outside, a medium tank had obviously blown a nearby building to pieces. It was hard to tell who was winning now; Orange Star or Blue Moon
"Give yourself up, I said!"
Irritatedly, Glenn Gordon raised his handgun again and popped off three rounds at the wall's corner, hoping to both hit the Blue Moon soldier somewhere and shut his mouth at the same time, but neither feat was accomplished. "You're not getting away, buddy," the Blue Mooner growled.
This was getting old, and fast. Glenn gritted his teeth. He had to watch himself, he was running out of ammo quickly. He had only a few more bullets left until he would be forced to either run like the blazes or just give up, but then, he heard something from the soldier that, if correctly answered, would give the blue-clad person a surprise, most likely.
"Are you with Green Earth or what!?"
Glenn paused for a few seconds, wondering whether he should tell the soldier the truth or not.
"What do you care?"
Behind the wall, the Blue Moon soldier frowned, but he still figured it was Green Earth. He had been the one of the two soldiers who came in the back together to notice the familiar outfit the man he was now fighting was wearing. His impatient comrade was dead now, probably because he had just figured he would be killing a normal civilian. "What are you doing here?"
"That's none of Blue Moon's concern." The soldier had no idea what he should do, but that was when Orange Star forces rushed into the coffee shop, their weapons raised, ready to fire at about anything that was blue. The fighting had stopped, apparently.
The Blue Moon soldier took off in a scare out the back way before Orange Star could mow him down. Glenn Gordon's fight was over. Shakily, he stood to his feet, realizing that had been his first actual gunfight with Blue Moon. Sure, he had taken out some enemy forces in planes before, but he had never been in a real gun battle with enemy infantry shooting back. He almost felt good about it, that he had defeated the Blue Mooners in such a short time, even if he had only been fighting three of them.
"Hey, you're the missing Green Earth pilot."
One of the Orange Star soldiers was talking to him. He was the what?
"Huh?"
"You're the missing Green Earth pilot, aren't you?"
Glenn blinked. Orange Star knew of his dissapearence from the ranks of the 56th squadron base. Green Earth had most likely told Orange Star to be on the lookout for a possibly dead pilot who had crashed in Blue Moon territory if they were passing through cities and woods, and the such. Somehow, they had successfully found him.
"Yeah, I guess I am, if you mean a Green Earth fighter pilot who went down in the woods inside a jet that was starting to turn into a comet."
The Orange Star soldier who he was conversing with smiled. "You're safe now."
That was nice to know, although he didn't exactly believe the man. "Are you taking me with you?" He prayed they would say yes. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in this demolished, smoldering city that was probably still neutral, despite the fact Orange Star had apparently won the battle with the Blue Moon forces. "Of course we are, son. Come on, let's get you to an APC around here."
As they exited the coffee shop, Glenn saw just how big the battle had been. Soldiers' bodies were still lying around, there was massive damage to the buildings around the downtown area too, caused by medium tanks that were now sitting peacefully, obviously dead from bazooka rounds fired by Orange Star mech units.
The Orange Star soldiers led him to a group of APCs that was taking the wounded and others back to somewhere. He didn't know where yet. Thankful of the forces that he was with now, he climbed into the back of one of the APCs, and allowed himself to smile weakly. He was so tired, he could hardly bloody smile.
After a couple of minutes, the group of APCs were on the move, and so was Glenn Gordon. Finally, on the move, towards safety.
---
Roger Winters was in the local town bar by the Clinton air base, and he had brought along a friend of his too, one who went by the name of Dario Paul Yossarian. The man called Yossarian had relentlessly bugged the living stink out of Winters, up to the point where if he didn't go take the idiot along with him to get a beer he'd be forever outcast as a good leader by the man who had spread many, many rumors about people before.
He was sitting at the bar sipping a light soda. Yossarian had conned him out of the five dollars he had brought with him. Now, he was boredly watching the television in the roof's corner of the bar. The news was on, and it would not quit about the battle between Orange Star and Blue Moon in the neutral city earlier. So Orange Star and Blue Moon fought a little, it wasn't like it was absolutely universe-shattering news. Reporters and their "hot stories." But then, he saw someone on the news, on one of those awful "amateur video" things, someone racing along on the sidewalk who looked deathly familiar.
Immediateley, Roger Winters slapped the hell out of Dario Yossarian's back, causing the already-plowed man to grunt noisily. "Yossarian, get back to base on the double, I'll be there myself in a little bit! Meet outside the General's office as soon as possible, we must inform General Winters and Captain Shamrock of something, and quickly!"