The 99th Platoon – WWW's Dream: Uniting the Tediz

(A/N Exactly one week before school starts I try to finish at least one of my promised fic's. It doesn't look like I'll be able to finish both. Sorry guys. I know I promised otherwise but…anyway, this one will be done. I think this will have the same length as the first fic. 14-15 chapters. But EFBC is something along the lines of 18-20. Ah well. Moving right along. The clock is ticking…)

Chapter 4: The Seagull has landed.

"Hell that was quick. Look, every body, get your heads down and crouch low at the edge of the boat. WWW, can you still pilot us there?" Sarge asked.
WWW nodded.
"Right," he removed his DD44 from its holster. "Remember we're trying to go for surprise here. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

They took up positions as WWW turned the sound of the engine to a whisper as they approached "whisker" territory.

The fatal sound activated bombs surrounded the last 30 metres to the island. The beach had not changed since World War Tediz.
The giant "X's" that had been the Squirrel's cover for The Assault were now coated in rust. Giant craters marked the sand where, years ago, mortar shells had exploded. A tank had overturned and was half buried in the sand, layers of slimy moss coating the skywards-facing treads. The base was now entirely made up of a broken gun turret and two towers half broken at the top. The entire centre section had collapsed in the suicidal explosion triggered by The Experiment.

Sarge paused and remembered the voices…thousands of young, eager Squirrels sent out to do the dying. The barbed-wire fences marked the graves of thousands of unknown soldiers. The sound of gunfire snapped Sarge out of his daze.

*whirrrrrrrrrrrr*

"Who fired!?" yelled Sarge. The Platoon didn't know. The floating metal spheres in the water were humming. "WWW! Get us outta here!"

"I'm on it!" replied the Tediz. He revved up the engine and the boat kicked into full speed. The whiskers were already disassembling themselves. Metal plates were being slid backwards to reveal 50 millimetre calibre weapons. WWW's eyes went wide. "Sarge! There's no place to dock!"
Sarge looked at the thousands of activating whiskers.

"IMPROVISE!"

*whiiRRRRRRRRR*

"Think! Think, think, think, think!!!" WWW spotted the overturned tank. He turned the boat to face the tank. Behind them the whiskers were lock and loading.

*GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA*

The hair on Sarge's neck rose as he saw the stream of explosive bullets flying towards the boat. The boat hit the tank treads and propelled itself out of the water, flying through the air, while the bullets slammed into the tank. Bullet after bullet narrowly skimmed the boat's underbelly, but still the extra height had saved the boat from destruction. Sort of.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"
"WAIT! WAIT! HOLY SHIT!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*

Amidst the smoke and rubble the Platoon, groggily at first, crawled out from the remains of the boat. They looked around them. To their left was the beach and further to the right was a newly sprouted forest. They had never been able to see the island all at once like this. It was bigger than it looked from the beach alone. The two black, charred towers stood out against the sun. WWW was the first to speak.

"Ugh, home sweet home..."
"Home? This place is a dump!" said Sarge.
"I was being sarcastic!" replied WWW. Pyst shook his head.
"I have a bad feeling about this."
"I don't have any feeling at all!" shrugged Squeaky

*WHAM*

"Shutting up..."

Sarge took control of the situation.
"Alright boys"
"ER-HEM!" Deja.
"Okay squirrels"
"ER-HEM!" Dark, Ricy and WWW.
"Okay soldiers"
"ER-" *WHAM* "Shutting up"
"Set up a temporary base over by that pile of rubble, it'll give us some shelter. A storm's brewing...Better be quick."
He swung his pack off and walked to the burned out shed he indicated and began unpacking his weapons.
"Hope for the best. Pack for the worst."

Chael pulled out a metal case and unlocked it. He took out his retractable rail-gun and Slayer. He then started to put his Sniper Rifle together. Finally he took out a capsule storage unit and enlarged it. He began taking inventory of his ammo.
"50 clips rifle ammo, 5 extra cells, and 200 Slayer rockets. I should be set." he miniaturized the unit.
"I love my new lab facilities."

Chael kept looking through the other storage units he had for explosives, weapon parts, and ammo. He found lots of mines; various weapon parts, ammo, some bores and a cerebral possessor. Chael began to work on the parts to see if he could make anything.

"You sure you didn't pack heavy Chael?"
"Sure"
Sarge looked down at his "luggage" His shotgun, twin Dostovei's, an ammo belt for each, three grenades, a radio and a canteen of water.
"Riiiight"

As the Platoon was working frantically to set up a temporary base, RedStorm sat outside of the group starring at the setting sun. Sarge came and sat down next to him. Sarge sat down slowly, taking his time to bend his knees and assert himself.
RedStorm noticed, for the first time, that their leader was ageing.

"I'm not the squirrel I used to be you know," laughed Sarge.
"Nah. You'll be fine Sarge. You keep up good shape."
"Thanks soldier," he laughed, "I'm not that old. Just...ageing," he laughed again. "So. What's on your mind boy?"

In the background the smoking rubble of the former Tediz stronghold was visible, along with the brewing storm in the sky. Occasionally a Platoon member would pass in front of the two Squirrels, blocking the picture from view.

"No, I was just wondering why everyone is so freaked out about this place."
A pause…then…
"It wasn't the best of times soldier." He paused again. "War is a terrible thing yunno."
"Yes it is. Yes it is."
"I mean, would you look at that," he pointed to the charred out island.
"It sure is something."
"Yeah. The horror...the horror..."

A breeze picked up. The two squirrels gazed into the sky, each lost in their own thoughts. After a minute of silence Sarge got up, patted RedStorm on the shoulder, then went back to work. RedStorm sighed.

"Sarge…I…ummm…how can I say this? I sorta smuggled a non-military…my…umm…remember my wife Cherry? You married us. Well she, she's here too."
"I already know that Flatfeet"
"You do?"
"Yeah. Just give her a weapon then finish setting up the tents" Sarge left Flatfeet starring dumbstruck into thin air.
"That went better than I thought," he mumbled as he walked off towards his wife, Cherry.

Cherry was already acquainted with Deja, the two got on well. Cherry was much taller than Flatfeet, and much slimmer too. She bore a striking resemblance to Deja, save for the fact that Cherry had flaming red hair and Deja's hair was jet black. The only two females on the expedition were also quite short tempered.

"Hey ladies. Want the medic to give you a physical?" grinned Mon with his cheesiest smile. Deja walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mon…"
"Yes Deja?"

*WHAM*

Mon's manhood was crushed by Deja's knee.  Squeaky cringed in sympathy pains. Cherry laughed as Deja sat observing her handiwork.

"I'll be going to my tent now," squeaked Mon. Cherry laughed.
"I'm surprised he didn't scream."

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

"Scratch that."