Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon
Further Disclaimer: It's not my fault the French are getting beaten up. I just picked on them because they're in the middle of western Europe.
Episode XLIII
Strategic Withdraw
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Dulce et Decorum Est
Wilfred Owen
Hikari Kamiya, little sister, junior high school student, digidestined and wing commander of the InterDimensional Expeditionary Force hung grimly to Angewomon as the angel turned underneath her. The rest of her command followed grimly behind, changing digimon in order to keep up with the powerful Ultimate. European Legion London and Paris Central, minus Catherine, were storming behind her, with teams assembled from Paris IDEF teams, and the Bordeaux, Madrid and Frankfurt units spread out to either side. They had just passed the forward scouts that Takeru had sent out, and now they were roaring forward in combat formation.
Teams two and three, break as soon as you see them. You know the plan. Kari spoke into her D3 and hoped that the plan would work.
We copy. Daniel spoke back.
A Spanish girl whom Kari did not know responded from the other side of the group.
Above there was a whoosh and one of Sora's teammates flew a little too low down. Kari nodded up at the boy who was pulling his Thundermon back into formation. It was a relief that she would finally have air support. Despite the simplicity of the plan she was only too aware how easy it would be for everything to go haywire on her.
I think I see them. Sora called down from above.
Kari asked, and Angewomon lifted up oblingingly, revealing the terrain ahead. Right ahead there was a mass of blackness covering the mostly green countryside, illuminated in the afternoon light as a dark stain. Well, that's bad. TK, you there?
Right here Kari. What do you want? TK's voice came through her communicator, lifting her heart.
Just thought that I would let you know. It looks like whatever the French army did, it wasn't enough. The group out there is massive, just as big as our scouts reported. They've got digimon galore, probably thousands of them. I can't make out details from this range, but it's probably going to be bad.
Understood. We're still rallying around here, but thousands are a bit too much for us to handle alone. TK dropped off the communication net, his last command implicit. Somehow Kari had to find a way to slow down her opponents.
We're not going to be able to hold. Hayes pointed out. We simply cannot hold our current lines. The glimmers of morning sunlight had long ago crept over the buildings to the east, and now they were beginning to illuminate the street. We need time, and we don't have it. When are they going to attack again?
I don't know General. Michael replied, staring out at the buildings to the north of them. How much longer do you need to reinforce?
I wish I knew. Hayes stared upwards. But we've lost all our communications already. I want to hold New York, but it looks like we're not going to be able too unless we can buy ourselves some more time.
How much do you want to give up? Michael asked.
As little as possible. But I really don't get the opportunity to make that choice. Hayes looked very sober in that moment.
Jeffery Winters grumbled as he looked around the converted mall parking lot that was currently serving as his squadron's runway. The remaining fighters belonging to the US Air Force, the US Navy and the Air National Guard were assembling here in Pennsylvania, so close to New York, and yet so far away. Not a single plane or helicopter in their entire arsenal could even get close to New York city, and so here they sat, billions of dollars of firepower, destructive capacity and US military might, made as obsolete as a flying tin can.
This is one hell of a clusterfuck. Another officer muttered behind him. Jeffery was senior here by some fluke, and now he had the impossible job of trying to keep morale up. So far he had scored no successes.
We've got company on the way. Jeffery reported. The Army's trying to stage an armored brigade through here.
How are they going to do that? Someone asked.
They're just driving through. Jeffery responded. God knows if they're going to get through this alive.
Celestial Arrow! Angewomon curved in first, and Kari was on her back, leading Team One straight into combat. The digidestined followed her lead, peeling off just as they got close enough to the enemy to launch their attacks. Bolts of fire and light arced into the enemy and scored. The dark digimon were so tightly packed that every shot hit something, and, if the target was not destroyed, they were at least injured.
Get back, now! Kari shouted, and the rest of her team ran for the farmland behind them as the dark digimon fire back. Kari's team was moving erratically and avoiding fire, but still they were bracketed by explosions that might have gotten them if Angewomon had not put out one of her glowing pink shields. All right Daniel, it's your turn now!
The London team rushed in on Kari's heels, but on the other side of the advancing horde, barely visible from Kari's position. His job was similar to hers, draw enemy attention to somewhere else, somewhere away from their path. The horde drew to a close as explosions began to bracket that side of the force. Then Kari caught sight of Daniel and the rest of the London team, riding their digimon hard, but managing to get out of the firing area before they were barbecued. A group of digimon broke off on their heels, chasing them fast over the farmlands.
Team three attacked at the same time. They were less organized, so they swept in at an angle, fired a single salvo, and then ran off again. They were also pursued, which was what Kari had counted on as she looped her team around behind a concealing hedge. Her group of digidestined, most of whom had never seen combat before, ran alongside her, whether heartened by her presence or terrified of the enemy she was not sure.
Good job guys. She called as Angewomon set her down behind the edge of the green barrier. You did good out there for your first time. Just get yourselves stable. Drink some water if you can. And get ready, because all hell is coming this way.
Just a minute later they could hear the sound of running digimon and panting. A moment later team three ran by, each one of them mounted on their digimon, clinging on for dear life. After them Kari could hear the pounding sound of other digimon running, and gestured for her team to lie down and hide. Just meters away there was a spurt of dust and a dozen digimon burst past, Monochromon and Tyrannomon running in great leaping gallops, each one having several Gazimon riding on its back, cheering them on.
Kari yelled and hurled herself out of hiding, followed more slowly by the other members of her team. But what was important is that the digimon followed her lead, jumping clear and opening fire on the enemy digimon. A bolt of white light speared two Tyrannomon at once, dissolving them into digital data. A storm of fire from the other digimon blasted at their opponents, tearing into them and sending many of them sprawling all over the landscape. Deleted data rose from them in a veritable fog, rising toward the heavens, which opened to recieve them. Team three ceased running away at the sound of battle and began to add their own attacks into it. A moment later it was all over, and only digidestined and their partners were standing there.
Kari asked her D3.
We're finishing up the last one here. Daniel replied.
All right. Places everyone. Kari called into her communicator.
The plan was as simple as it was unnerving. The horde must be getting nervous by now, must have been running high in anxiety. After all they had been attacked unexpectedly, and not by an army but rather by a group of digimon, enemies that were like them. They had sent out pursuit, and they had heard the sounds of battle, but their pursuit had not returned. As Kari's forces took up position she imagined that she could see a wave of worry and apprehension sweep through their forces. Perhaps they were wondering if there was actually a trap, a huge enemy army waiting on the other side of the obscuring hedges and inside the rows of carefully planted crops. Perhaps they were growing afraid.
The attacks started the same as before, except this time it was Daniel who started it, and at a different angle. Originally he had simply attacked from the front side, aiming at the flanks of the enemy horde. This time he had managed to use the time to circle around to the rear, and his attack caused panic. For a moment the horde was under attack by an enemy they could not see, and the fear and anxiety caused by that first wave of successful explosions rocked the entire body. Digimon immediately turned around to see who was attacking them. Even though it was only six against hundreds in the flank Daniel was attacking, the London team was well trained, and knew the limits of their digimon well, and were getting through the sporadic return fire unscathed.
Once they were turned the wrong way Kari moved in for the kill. This time Angewomon simply concentrated on putting as many of her arrows as possible into the air at the same time. Now their job was to whittle away the numbers of the forces facing them by sheer persistance, before anything big came after them. Her teammates, most of whom she did not even remember the names of, began firing themselves, digimon planting balls of fire and electricity through their enemies, strafing them while running sideways, and then falling back, when the enemy had their range.
Team three attacked just a few seconds later, from the place where Daniel had attacked last time, blasting their enemies from long range, taking advantage of the horde's close packed ranks to hit target after target when they were too far away for accurate fire, and then running as fast as they could once their enemies had their range.
But even the best plans can have a fatal flaw.
I think they're gathering again. Agumon sniffed the air, stopping his ceaseless eating for a moment and staring alertly across the river.
How can you tell? Tai asked urgently.
This nose knows Tai. Agumon was still staring intently.
I'd take him at his word. Palmon stood up as well. Gomamon tottered beside her. The four digimon had been enjoying an extra breakfast in the ruins of a set of buildings that had once been apartments, but had been blasted down to ruins. Some thoughtful soldier had managed to break up the remains of a table into firewood, and had started a fire with it. Now they could huddle around and remain dry even while morning fog continued to blanket much of the area.
Why now? Matt asked as Gabumon stopped eating for a moment.
Probably because they could be hidden in the fog barrier, just like Myotismon did that one time. Gabumon thought out loud. We better warn the others.
Warn them of what? Matt picked up his gear and began to slip an armored jacket he had managed to borrow back over his shoulders.
Tai pointed up and yelled at the same time.
It seemed that the enemy had realized that attacking across the river was a waste of everyone's time, and had tried the subtle approach this time. Now they came through the sky like a storm, raining down on their enemies, screaming in rage and defiance. In return a dozen different positions opened up on the air diving shapes, but the return fire was pitiful in comparison to what was coming in from above.
Digimon of all types filled the air. Bakemon roared as they descended, Vilemon flapped their wings, Devidramon gave off unearthly howls. There were screams mixed into that cacophony that Tai would later swear sounded like the gates of hell opening up. They fell on the outnumbered defenders like a storm, swooping back and forth overhead, claws flashing as they closed on the ground-based infantry.
The sky turned black, and with it, Tai felt his heart grow cold, felt the breath still in his lungs as he watched the enemy come. Even the sun was blotted out by that force, and Tai knew what would come next. Men screamed and fell as the blasts of deadly digimon impactd them. Flesh seared on contact, muscles tore, bones shattered, and there was sickening thud after crunch as bodies fell to the ground. Screams filled the air, and there was little, if anything that the digimon could do about it.
What the hell do we do now? Matt yelled over the commotion as MetalGarurumon struggled to force the enemy away from them.
Running comes to mind! Tai replied, ducking down behind WarGreymon's protective shield just in time to avoid being boiled alive.
Suddenly all four digidestined were scooped up by Zudomon, hidden under his protective shell to keep them out of the way. With their companions safe, the other three digimon lifted up into the air, fire and light spilling from them. WarGreymon's claws flashed like a hurricane, surrounding himself with a wall of living steel. MetalGarurumon unleashed salvo after salvo of missiles from his living launchers, pouring out a constant rain of fire on the enemies. Lilymon just concentrated on blasting anyone who got too close to the three of them. But soon they were surrounded in a wall of darkness.
In the distance Tai could see the airborne teams assigned to Team Eagle struggling against their own enemies. They had just gotten back in the air when the attack started, and had opted to fly higher than their enemies, moving out of the way of that giant cloud. Still, like some primordeal monster it reached tentacles up in the sky in an attempt to grab them, to pull them back into the maelstrom, but the Eagles were staying well out of the way of that.
And then, with a rush of wings, they were gone, lifting into the sky like a cloud, like the reverse of rain, combining into a massive patch of darkness that blotted out part of the sky. Tai watched after them with amazement, wondering at their sudden disappearance.
Oh great. Joe murmured, looking the other way, and Tai jerked around to see what he was staring at with such a horrified expression on his face.
Tai paused while he searched for an appropriate word. There, in the middle of the barrier, or where the barricade had been, was a gaping hole in the wall surrounded by dead bodies, dead human bodies, thrown around like matchwood. Some of them were trailing blood and entrails from them, and some of them were horribly deformed as if they had been crushed to death. Some others were only recognizable as humans by the uniforms they were wearing. Standing over them was a group of Triceramon bellowing at the top of their lungs as, behind them Bakemon, Woodmon, RedVeggiemon, Tankmon and other unsavory digimon streamed past the defensive walls.
Tai swore as he took off running to try and salvage something from this.
What the heck is that? A boy with sandy hair asked, staring at Manhattan Island as if gleamed in the sunlight, the reflections making it hard to see anything.
I don't know. Izzy answered automatically, before even looking, but he saw the problem immediately. The entire northern part of the island looked like it was covered in a dome of blackness, some sort of artificial construct larger than any building Izzy had ever seen. But there were differences. Inside it he could make out dark shapes and shadows, moving too and fro, giving the whole structure the appearance of being alive, of actually being able to move, like some giant living jelly, some protoplasmic blob that had decided to latch itself onto New York.
I have no idea. Ken whispered from Izzy's side. Is that a digimon?
And then the top of the dome broke, and a steady stream of darkness began to head in their direction as they coasted closer and closer to the city. Izzy peered, and then realized as the strand got closer and closer to them that it was not really a single strand, but rather dark shapes. Hundreds and hundreds of dark shapes, all speeding straight toward them.
No. It's hundreds of digimon! And I don't think they're happy to see us! Izzy shouted. ImperialDramon! Get us out of here right...!
Izzy had to stop his sentence. ImperialDramon had already seen the danger for himself. He might have stopped to fight it under other circumstances, but these were not other circumstances. Despite the fact that he would never have admitted it under any circumstances, he was fast getting exhausted. The huge Mega had been flying for what felt like forever, and he did not want to risk the problem of transforming back into two rookies a kilometer in the air. Immediately he turned around and began to speed away from the oncoming horde.
Izzy watched them outrun the tendril with a grim expression on his face, before turning to face Ken.
Do you know what this means? Izzy asked.
That they've got a lot of help? Davis hazarded.
No. They've cut us off. Izzy replied seriously. New York's on its own.
Adam leaned back in his chair and sighed, thumbs digging into the hollows that lack of sleep had driven into his eyes. With the change in time differentials he had been fighting for twelve days. Even once Gennai had shot out their carrier units in the first minutes of battle, he had lost almost a half dozen worlds already, and it was not looking to get any better. That trick would not work again.
The dark had been able to pass through the next transit point, in time to see Gennai's force of battleships retreat to the next world in the chain. Attacked only by small forces of digimon, they began to relax. The fact that Gennai had defeated only their carriers seemed to indicate that Citadel was aiming for a long range match. There the fast Citadel capital ships could run faster and escape the ponderously slow battle-line of their foes. Only massed squadrons of digimon launched from their carriers could hope to catch up with them, so they had brought their reserve carriers up to aid their frontline units. It also indicated that the forces of light were unwilling to engage in the slaughter involved in descending a transit point. Their best shot would have been intercepting the forces of darkness as they transited up the chain, as that was a constrained transit point, meaning that Gennai could have predicted within half a kilometer where his target would have emerged. That fact that they did not indicated that they were unwilling to engage in the such a manner. So they had chased Gennai's retreating battleships, hoping to catch them before they could make it back up to Cormere, where they would have heavy warships backing them up. If they could chase Gennai fast enough, they could prevent Citadel's superior HV missile technology from having a telling effect. They had rushed the constrained transit point to Doggrel in an attempt to do such.
Adam and Fourth Wing had killed the first sixty dreadnaughts to come through the transit point. He had been waiting within X-ray laser range, and the slaughter had been beyond belief as weapons of thermonuclear potency tore through shields and armor alike at range of as low as a hundred meters. Then it had dissolved into a melee as the dark committed their supercarrier and reserve dreadnaught detachments early, and digimon and fighters had swirled and died as warships continued their suicidal pounding at ranges barely exceeding a kilometer. In the end Adam had withdrawn, Fourth Wing having lost twenty-six dreadnaughts, nineteen battleships and almost a hundred support and carrier vessels. The dark had barely secured Doggrel when Adam, still aboard the battered Leonidas IV, led the entirety of Fourth Wing's surviving line of battle, supported by the fresh and unbloodied ships of Fifth Wing in a crash transit assault right in their face. A two day running battle of suicidal intensity had killed another quarter million of Citadel's finest, but took ninety enemy dreadnaughts and seventy-three supercarriers with them.
But the bastards kept coming.
Now, two transit points closer to Cormere, Adam waited for them to come, fingering his pointer gently, waiting, always waiting.
Sir. Incoming! The warning was unnecessary, and Adam watched in mild surprise as, instead of the expected bombardment, the first massive enemy Dreadnaught appeared on his screens.
I see it. Well, here we go. A second and third enemy appeared on the screen as the ready squadrons roared off their decks and the close in units began to fire. Tell the missile ships and the snipers to stand off and engage the enemy, maximum salvo density. Concentrate on the trailers. He turned to his flag captain. Everyone else, attack plan alpha three. Let's go get them.
Adam smiled slightly and sank back into his chair as the Leonidas bucked and the first salvo of Hyperveocity missiles streaked toward his opponents.
Where are they? TK asked, ignoring the others crowded around the table.
A French girl sitting next to a map scrunched up her brows for a few moments, and then called out a few numbers in French that Catherine quickly translated into English. TK let his face sink back into an emotionless facade and calmly placed the correct markers on the map below. There were all too many red markers there, marking the great mass of the enemy, far too few markers representing teams still on their way and expected to arrive.
It was one of the great feats of modern history. Within a matter of hours a group of children who had never had any formal training or experience in these matters, had combined into a solid command and control group, dealing calmly with most of the problems that had so far cropped up. It was an incredible feat, and the language barrier and the tension in the air only made it more memorable. But compared to the feats that would shortly be required, nobody thought much of it.
Not good. General Alexander, peering over the blonde boy's shoulder, looked concerned. Are they really moving that fast?
Catherine responded, silently measuring the distance. It was hard to do on a map, but the constant movement of the horde had given her some practice. If Kari can't slow them down they'll be within striking range of Paris in twelve hours.
In the heady excitement of combat, in the moment when there seems to be nothing but the game, a game of tag where you are always one step ahead of death, it is easy to forget the limits. For the inexperienced digidestined holding the front line it was just a single misstep, something so easy that, had they been confronted with it, they never would have believed it. Kari's control was flawless, and her diving strikes were impressive, even to those who had never seen digimon truly fight before this day. The constant exchange of charges, long range fire and close in attacks, the drawing out of the enemy came in a dreamy dance.
The forces of darkness simply could no longer hold up. Kari swept down on them like a tornado, arrows of light scything through their outward ranks, sometimes pinning down the odd digimon on the outside, sometimes cutting into the nameless mass. If Kari was unable to drive the enemy to distraction, there always was the London team, operating on the other side. Deltamon roared, three mouths open, unleashing a deadly rain of fire on his foes, Daniel clinging to his back, yelling commands, mostly to Kyle and Brandi, and their companions, Tuskmon and Mojyamon, who stayed loyally by his side. Other digidestined rode their companions like horses, letting the running, bunching muscles take them into danger and out again without a scratch to show for it. Sora's group stayed out of range too, instead of attacking with their low flying attacks they stayed back and dropped rocks on their opponents.
And then one digimon, a novice, a Monochromon, digivolving for his second time ever, made a miscalculation. He was unused to this, and now he was tired, but his digidestined did not see, and did not understand, until too late. He was slow, not moving as agily, and a single attack launched from a prowling Devidramon hit him from the side. He uttered a heart-rending scream, and then collapsed in a flare of golden light, resolving into a rookie for a moment before he disappeared into the arms of his companion, and then into the wings of darkness. The faster of the dark digimon, taunted for too long by the sniping attacks that clipped their wings reacted like an angry storm, and within seconds the two bodies were surrounded by a dark, ragged crowd of twisted bodies. Then there were other sounds, screams and yells, both of pain and anger. And then, even from where Kari was flying on the other side, she could see the rhythm of death began, see fists rise and fall, rise and fall...
Heaven's Charm! Angewomon, sensing perhaps Kari's urgency and her sudden overwhelming anger unleashed the burst that drove the dark shapes back, but it also let Kari see the worst. She almost vomited as she saw the twisted remains of what had once been a human being, and the familiar dust of digital data that marked the passing of a digimon. She screamed, a scream of primal challenge and fury, roaring her anger to the skies, and Angewomon took up the call, golden hair streaming, but something else broke into her attention.
Deltamon had paused at the edge of the engagement zone. One massive skeletal hand had halted, holding a struggling girl back with the gentlest touch he could muster. The girl was frantic, crying in shock, screaming in French, but Kari could not make out the words, only the hysterical tone. She could feel it mirrored on the faces of the other digidestined. Right now, they needed a moment to regain their strength, to recover from the shock. And they were tired, they needed to rest.
She cursed herself, from the bottom of her soul to the top of her head at the folly that had sent the boy out to die. She, the most experienced of them all, should have known, of all people, the danger of fighting to exhaustion. She should have remembered that these were inexperienced digidestined, that they did not know how to fight in the digital world. It was her fault that the boy, and that was what he had been after all, a boy, had been out where he should not have been, and when he should not have been out. Something in her stomach felt like she had dropped an anvil on it, clenching up and contracting as the weight pressed on her bowels, leaving her screaming at her fate inside. It burnt and froze and tore at her, all at the same time, and left her feeling as if she had failed everything she had ever believed in. She wanted to sink down and cry, but something inside, the iron that had always emerged when she needed it most, refused to back down.
Fall back! She yelled to Daniel as she passed by, above the morning keen of Angewomon marking the passing of a comerade. Fall back to the next line of hills! Go, we'll meet you there! Go, now!
Slowly, as if rising from a great distance away, all the digidestined began to fall back. Kari looked back, at the twisted lump of broken flesh lying on the ground, and began to cry, even as Angewomon carried her on.
TK, we're breaking off. Kari's voice sounded oddly strained, and TK immediately looked up, alarmed.
Something's wrong. Cody muttered unnecessarily as Armadillomon jumped up on the table to get a better view.
Kari, what happened? TK asked, slowly and carefully.
I...I'm sorry TK... The voice broke off after a moment. I lost one of them. Then her voice faded off as she turned away.
Catherine swore. TK simply did not move, he just stood there, staring aimlessly at the wall for a time. Then, he turned and walked slowly out of the room, every step as if he were struggling against an invisible tide.
The first. Patamon murmured quietly. But I don't think this will be the last.
Color. Flashes of it, discordant, red and blue and green and grey. Screams, shots, sounds of horror rending the air. Torrents of fire. Storms of ice. More flashes. Striking out and finding flesh. Moving, reacting to the sense of danger. Dodging, ducking, hiding. Striking again. The world for WarGreymon had shrunk down, and now he was transformed once more into a killing machine. His claws ripped through dozens of dark digimon, sending their data scattering everywhere, but they kept coming. They surged against him, as unstoppable as the tides, and threatened to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. He struck back again and again, but his opponents simply kept coming, thrust into him by the push of the crowd.
And the tide did not stop. It kept coming, one after another after another, storming toward him like a hurricane, unstoppable as a force of nature. He stood in front and let them bounce off of his armor, but there was little else he could do for now. Still, someone had to stand between the enemy and the frail humans that he was protecting. He could feel his armor rent by unseen blows, could feel streaks of fire squeak through his defenses, and could feel the steadily mounting pressure on his front.
WarGreymon! Fall back! Hurry! Tai's voice could barely be heard over the din of battle, but WarGreymon understood it implicitly and responded, darting back as fast as he could through the tide standing in his way. Individual monsters looked at him in askance, and then in sudden terror as he barreled through them, but he ignored them, trying to reach Tai. That was his only purpose now, to get back to Tai before anything else happened. They were not in danger of being overwhelmed, they had already been overwhelmed, and WarGreymon knew that there was nothing he could do about it. At best he could hope that their desperate defense had bought them some time. Every so often he saw a human, sometimes a soldier still vainly trying to fight, sometimes a body on the ground. Some of the bodies were obviously dead, but others were moving, trying desperately to crawl to safety. But there were too many of them, and WarGreymon could only watch helplessly as too many disappeared under the dark forms of the horde.
And then he burst through the crowd, and there was Tai, standing there, holding a baseball bat in one hand that he must have picked up somewhere, crouching over a body that was leaking blood all over the ground. He was surrounded by Gargomon, Endigomon and Lilymon and a dozen other soldiers, most of them covered in blood and sweat, their weapons blazing in their hands. They looked dirty, filthy and desperate, but at least they were still alive, and the tidal wave of bullets was keeping their opponents temporarily out of their way.
WarGreymon, we need to retreat! Tai called.
We aren't going to be able to stop them! WarGreymon yelled back, one claw slicing a feinting Bakemon in half, the other catching a giant WaruMonzemon in the chest. Not if we couldn't do it here!
Trust me! Tai yelled back, and he grinned that grin for a moment, just a moment. WarGreymon had to admire the boy's confidence. In the past few hours he had been exposed to more death and destruction than he had ever seen before in his life, but Tai was still all right. He seemed to be taking this all better than WarGreymon. Perhaps it said something monumental about the human spirit.
WarGreymon shrugged and swelled up, as if he were about to launch an attack. Immediately the digimon pressing against them drew back in fear, they wanted no part in a Mega's full barrage and that gave them a moment of maneuvering time. Having worked with WarGreymon so often before, Lilymon immediately realized what was happening, and blasted a corridor through the dark bodies behind them, sending them flying. Gargomon and Endigomon went next, with the humans clutched between them, running as fast as they could. It was a desperate progression, ragged breaths, blind firing and random breaks of blind firing as they moved through a path of destruction.
They broke through the enemy concentration, but that was not the end of the problem. The evil digimon were desperate as well, half-starved, vicious beyond any reason beyond any measure, beyond anything. Some of then had been maddened beyond belief, and were faster than the pack, and had fallen on the retreating soldiers of the 16th as they attempted to withdraw from their position. It became a scene from hell. The commanders of the American troops were good, some of the best, but even with all the discipline and training they had, there was nothing to prepare them for this horror. The sight of monsters tearing apart their friends and comrades, the death and destruction that surrounded them had taken their toll. Too many had died in the combat preceding these moments, and now they were retreating in disarray, small groups clustering together for self-preservation. There was scattered fighting between Gizamon and other fast, small digimon and groups of soldiers carrying nearly exhausted weapons as the Americans tried to retreat, and their pursuers tried to catch up with them. Tai found his group growing bigger and bigger as they scythed through what enemy stood before them, and scattered troops joined up with them, grabbed or helped along by their comrades.
The streets were mostly blocked. Cars, smashed by the fighting stood on their sides, shards of window glass covering the streets. Huge chunks of concrete were scattered all over the ground, like snowfall. Trees had collapsed, buildings were missing huge chunks, and there were pools of water mixing with the oil of the streets as water pipes shattered. Moving became an exercise in gymnastics, scrambling over one obstacle after another, already trying to keep ahead of what they knew was after them.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity they reached a clear area. Here the street had been cleared manually, by hand by what seemed to be a tremendous amount of labor. Here there were clearly defined barricades, overturned vehicles, fallen concrete and the remains of once-proud building constructing a solid wall blocking the street access. They were close enough to city center that Tai could see Central Park in the distance, but the waiting bulwarks were good enough for him. As they came into the open he could see the movement as people turned to watch him, and then turned back to watch the front lines again. Tai sighed with relief as he saw the tattered American flag, still waving overhead. One line, at least, was still holding.
Steve of Team Eagle was waiting for them at the top, his glasses missing a chip out of the corner of one of his lenses, but otherwise intact. Mimi and Joe were there a moment later, and Tai swore he could see Matt out flying through the sky.
You made it. Joe breathed out a sigh of relief and grasped Tai firmly. We were worried.
I'm all right. Tai smiled wanly. But I sure appreciate you guys sticking around. How we doing?
While you were keeping them busy up at the north end of the island we managed to get most of 1st brigade across and set up here. Steve reported. We've got some National Guard movement into our rear right now, but for the moment everything we have is here.
Then it's settled. Tai stated firmly. We hold the line.
That was the last thing WarGreymon saw as he slid into blackness.
General Sir Thomas Alexander sat down on the concrete bench without looking around at the boy next to him, and only understanding just a little of why he was out here talking to him. He belonged with his troops, but that in itself was a laugh. He was a Brit in Paris, and the only troops he had were his clerical staff, whom he had already sent out with the military evacuation. From what he heard on the radio the French command system was disrupted and heavily hit. There would be no help from them until they got organized, and with the enemy Juggernaught rolling into town in a few hours, they simply did not have time. And now he had the impossible job of advising a handful of children who had never truly been involved in war before how to save ten million lives.
He said it was the hardest lesson. TK sighed bitterly for a moment and then straightened up.
What lesson? General Alexander did not make eye contact, watching the beauty of the flowers ahead of him.
The first lesson of command. TK replied evenly.
Colonel Jeffery Winters, USAF, swore under his breath as the new ultra-sensitive cameras under his forward fuselage caught a glimpse of the latest intruder into their airspace. If he had not known better he would have thought it a giant, jet-powered tortoise with a strange color scheme. But as it was, he knew that it was probably dangerous. Chances were that by the time it was close enough to engage the disruption would cripple his fighter, but he had to try. He turned his F-22A Raptor in an interception course lazily, his wingmen following on his heels. Then his radio crackled.
US Air Force fighter. US Air Force fighter, can you hear us? Can you hear us? Respond please. The message, sounding like it was being spoken by an adolescent, repeated several times over. Jeffery stared at his radio in amazement before hitting the switch and replying.
This is Colonel Winters of the United States Air Force. Identify yourself.
This is that giant black and red monster you can see on one side. We're coming in peacefully. I repeat, we're coming in peacefully. Do not attack.
Jeffery rolled his eyes. This was clearly fast becoming a B-movie, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Then he shrugged. None of the monsters had yet made contact, and whatever this one was, it was speaking in English. Maybe whatever it was would turn out to be friendly. But it had not turned to attack them yet, so he shrugged and hoped that someday, somebody would explain all this to him.
I copy unidentified object. Do not deviate from your course or you will be fired upon. We have an airfield about fifty miles from here on your current course. Continue there and land immediately. We'll sort all this out on the ground.
We copy Colonel. We just got back from trying to penetrate into New York, but the bad guys have the place sealed off.
We already know. Nothing is going in or out for a while. See you on the ground. Colonel Winters shrugged and turned his plane around to follow in their new guests.
What is the first rule? General Alexander asked.
A friend of mine told me about it. Unconsciously TK changed. He was still speaking the words, but they were Adam's words as well. The first and hardest rule of command is this. No matter how good you are, how well prepared you come, how many advantages you give yourself, men will die executing your orders. There is no way to prevent this, no way to avoid it, and it is the hardest thing for any commander to be forced to accept. People will die because you ordered them to die. That is the price we pay for victory. You must not allow yourself to be paralyzed by this, but you must not grow inured to it either. All you can do is minimize your loss.
General Alexander nodded.
How do you stand it? TK let his head fall down, tears welling in his eyes, a low gnawing feeling in his gut. How do you send people out to die?
I don't. General Alexander admitted wryly, suddenly feeling the need to bare his soul. TK, I've never been in a real battle before. I commanded troops in the Gulf War, but I was part of the units that were not actually engaging the enemy, only holding the line. The only men under my command that actually died were two soldiers who accidentally drove over a land mine in Kosovo. I've never had to stare into hopeless odds before, never had to stand before something of this magnitude.
I've always wondered if; when push came to shove, if I'd have the courage to stand on the line, to hold it, no matter the cost. It sounds easy enough when you're back in officer's school, to hear the songs of glory from the old regiments. But out here, when you have to put yourself on the line, it's something different.
I'm terrified. I've never been this desperate before. I looked at the numbers, same as you did. Even if you pull another fifty miracles out of your hat, with the people we have here, with the numbers we have here, we're never going to be able hold Paris, even for half the time we would need to evacuate the surrounding countryside. And only a handful of us are ever leaving this city alive. I was looking into your eyes, and I know that you know this as well as I do. And I'm terrified. I've never done this before either, although I've trained my whole life to do it.
I always asked if I would have the strength to stand the line. Well, before the end of this battle it looks like I'll finally know.
TK smiled, and a tear ended up being brushed away, leaving only the faintest hint of a rainbow in his eyes. There's another lesson. The first lesson of life.
Thomas asked, arcing an eyebrow.
Yes. No matter how hard the path, how dark the night, there is always hope. It is all we have and all we need. TK smiled confidently and calmly up at Thomas Alexander, and the older man felt his own face crease into a smile. If the army ever got their hands on this boy they would send him, kicking and screaming, off to the Academy, and he would only emerge as a Field Marshal.
Suddenly the sun was blotted out. TK jerked his head up, just in time to see three digimon soar overhead, a Snimon, a Kuwagamon and a Unimon each carrying a set of passengers, children clutching digimon to them. The familiar faces of Yuri, Anna and Sonja peered down at TK as the digimon began to land, and a dozen more digidestined hit the ground, peering around with a mixture of curiosity and awe. And then, dismounting from Kuwagamon was a much older man, looking more distinguished and wearing a set of camouflage combat clothes. General Alexander swore to himself that the man looked familiar.
Yuri! Sonja! Anna! You guys made it! TK waved his hat at them.
Yuri grinned. Takeru, I would like you to meet friend of mine. He waved at the older man.
The man stepped forward and bowed quickly. I remember you from the Berlin conference General Alexander. And you must be Takeru Takaishi. I've heard much about you from my young friends here. He looked at TK's puzzled expression and grinned. Allow me to introduce myself. I am General Dmitri Sergev of the Russian Federation, commander of the 21st Airborne Guards division. General Alexander immediately remembered the confident, competent general of one of Russia's best new military units. We in Moscow thought that you might be getting lonely, so we brought some company.
He gestured with one hand. To the east the sky was clear, and there, standing out as if someone had drawn it on the sky with a marker, was a line. A line of Russian transport planes, surrounded by Russian fighter planes and flying digimon, headed for Paris, outlined in the sun.
There's always Hope. TK whispered reverently.
Review Please
Further Disclaimer: It's not my fault the French are getting beaten up. I just picked on them because they're in the middle of western Europe.
Strategic Withdraw
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Dulce et Decorum Est
Wilfred Owen
Teams two and three, break as soon as you see them. You know the plan. Kari spoke into her D3 and hoped that the plan would work.
We copy. Daniel spoke back.
A Spanish girl whom Kari did not know responded from the other side of the group.
Above there was a whoosh and one of Sora's teammates flew a little too low down. Kari nodded up at the boy who was pulling his Thundermon back into formation. It was a relief that she would finally have air support. Despite the simplicity of the plan she was only too aware how easy it would be for everything to go haywire on her.
I think I see them. Sora called down from above.
Kari asked, and Angewomon lifted up oblingingly, revealing the terrain ahead. Right ahead there was a mass of blackness covering the mostly green countryside, illuminated in the afternoon light as a dark stain. Well, that's bad. TK, you there?
Right here Kari. What do you want? TK's voice came through her communicator, lifting her heart.
Just thought that I would let you know. It looks like whatever the French army did, it wasn't enough. The group out there is massive, just as big as our scouts reported. They've got digimon galore, probably thousands of them. I can't make out details from this range, but it's probably going to be bad.
Understood. We're still rallying around here, but thousands are a bit too much for us to handle alone. TK dropped off the communication net, his last command implicit. Somehow Kari had to find a way to slow down her opponents.
We're not going to be able to hold. Hayes pointed out. We simply cannot hold our current lines. The glimmers of morning sunlight had long ago crept over the buildings to the east, and now they were beginning to illuminate the street. We need time, and we don't have it. When are they going to attack again?
I don't know General. Michael replied, staring out at the buildings to the north of them. How much longer do you need to reinforce?
I wish I knew. Hayes stared upwards. But we've lost all our communications already. I want to hold New York, but it looks like we're not going to be able too unless we can buy ourselves some more time.
How much do you want to give up? Michael asked.
As little as possible. But I really don't get the opportunity to make that choice. Hayes looked very sober in that moment.
Jeffery Winters grumbled as he looked around the converted mall parking lot that was currently serving as his squadron's runway. The remaining fighters belonging to the US Air Force, the US Navy and the Air National Guard were assembling here in Pennsylvania, so close to New York, and yet so far away. Not a single plane or helicopter in their entire arsenal could even get close to New York city, and so here they sat, billions of dollars of firepower, destructive capacity and US military might, made as obsolete as a flying tin can.
This is one hell of a clusterfuck. Another officer muttered behind him. Jeffery was senior here by some fluke, and now he had the impossible job of trying to keep morale up. So far he had scored no successes.
We've got company on the way. Jeffery reported. The Army's trying to stage an armored brigade through here.
How are they going to do that? Someone asked.
They're just driving through. Jeffery responded. God knows if they're going to get through this alive.
Celestial Arrow! Angewomon curved in first, and Kari was on her back, leading Team One straight into combat. The digidestined followed her lead, peeling off just as they got close enough to the enemy to launch their attacks. Bolts of fire and light arced into the enemy and scored. The dark digimon were so tightly packed that every shot hit something, and, if the target was not destroyed, they were at least injured.
Get back, now! Kari shouted, and the rest of her team ran for the farmland behind them as the dark digimon fire back. Kari's team was moving erratically and avoiding fire, but still they were bracketed by explosions that might have gotten them if Angewomon had not put out one of her glowing pink shields. All right Daniel, it's your turn now!
The London team rushed in on Kari's heels, but on the other side of the advancing horde, barely visible from Kari's position. His job was similar to hers, draw enemy attention to somewhere else, somewhere away from their path. The horde drew to a close as explosions began to bracket that side of the force. Then Kari caught sight of Daniel and the rest of the London team, riding their digimon hard, but managing to get out of the firing area before they were barbecued. A group of digimon broke off on their heels, chasing them fast over the farmlands.
Team three attacked at the same time. They were less organized, so they swept in at an angle, fired a single salvo, and then ran off again. They were also pursued, which was what Kari had counted on as she looped her team around behind a concealing hedge. Her group of digidestined, most of whom had never seen combat before, ran alongside her, whether heartened by her presence or terrified of the enemy she was not sure.
Good job guys. She called as Angewomon set her down behind the edge of the green barrier. You did good out there for your first time. Just get yourselves stable. Drink some water if you can. And get ready, because all hell is coming this way.
Just a minute later they could hear the sound of running digimon and panting. A moment later team three ran by, each one of them mounted on their digimon, clinging on for dear life. After them Kari could hear the pounding sound of other digimon running, and gestured for her team to lie down and hide. Just meters away there was a spurt of dust and a dozen digimon burst past, Monochromon and Tyrannomon running in great leaping gallops, each one having several Gazimon riding on its back, cheering them on.
Kari yelled and hurled herself out of hiding, followed more slowly by the other members of her team. But what was important is that the digimon followed her lead, jumping clear and opening fire on the enemy digimon. A bolt of white light speared two Tyrannomon at once, dissolving them into digital data. A storm of fire from the other digimon blasted at their opponents, tearing into them and sending many of them sprawling all over the landscape. Deleted data rose from them in a veritable fog, rising toward the heavens, which opened to recieve them. Team three ceased running away at the sound of battle and began to add their own attacks into it. A moment later it was all over, and only digidestined and their partners were standing there.
Kari asked her D3.
We're finishing up the last one here. Daniel replied.
All right. Places everyone. Kari called into her communicator.
The plan was as simple as it was unnerving. The horde must be getting nervous by now, must have been running high in anxiety. After all they had been attacked unexpectedly, and not by an army but rather by a group of digimon, enemies that were like them. They had sent out pursuit, and they had heard the sounds of battle, but their pursuit had not returned. As Kari's forces took up position she imagined that she could see a wave of worry and apprehension sweep through their forces. Perhaps they were wondering if there was actually a trap, a huge enemy army waiting on the other side of the obscuring hedges and inside the rows of carefully planted crops. Perhaps they were growing afraid.
The attacks started the same as before, except this time it was Daniel who started it, and at a different angle. Originally he had simply attacked from the front side, aiming at the flanks of the enemy horde. This time he had managed to use the time to circle around to the rear, and his attack caused panic. For a moment the horde was under attack by an enemy they could not see, and the fear and anxiety caused by that first wave of successful explosions rocked the entire body. Digimon immediately turned around to see who was attacking them. Even though it was only six against hundreds in the flank Daniel was attacking, the London team was well trained, and knew the limits of their digimon well, and were getting through the sporadic return fire unscathed.
Once they were turned the wrong way Kari moved in for the kill. This time Angewomon simply concentrated on putting as many of her arrows as possible into the air at the same time. Now their job was to whittle away the numbers of the forces facing them by sheer persistance, before anything big came after them. Her teammates, most of whom she did not even remember the names of, began firing themselves, digimon planting balls of fire and electricity through their enemies, strafing them while running sideways, and then falling back, when the enemy had their range.
Team three attacked just a few seconds later, from the place where Daniel had attacked last time, blasting their enemies from long range, taking advantage of the horde's close packed ranks to hit target after target when they were too far away for accurate fire, and then running as fast as they could once their enemies had their range.
But even the best plans can have a fatal flaw.
I think they're gathering again. Agumon sniffed the air, stopping his ceaseless eating for a moment and staring alertly across the river.
How can you tell? Tai asked urgently.
This nose knows Tai. Agumon was still staring intently.
I'd take him at his word. Palmon stood up as well. Gomamon tottered beside her. The four digimon had been enjoying an extra breakfast in the ruins of a set of buildings that had once been apartments, but had been blasted down to ruins. Some thoughtful soldier had managed to break up the remains of a table into firewood, and had started a fire with it. Now they could huddle around and remain dry even while morning fog continued to blanket much of the area.
Why now? Matt asked as Gabumon stopped eating for a moment.
Probably because they could be hidden in the fog barrier, just like Myotismon did that one time. Gabumon thought out loud. We better warn the others.
Warn them of what? Matt picked up his gear and began to slip an armored jacket he had managed to borrow back over his shoulders.
Tai pointed up and yelled at the same time.
It seemed that the enemy had realized that attacking across the river was a waste of everyone's time, and had tried the subtle approach this time. Now they came through the sky like a storm, raining down on their enemies, screaming in rage and defiance. In return a dozen different positions opened up on the air diving shapes, but the return fire was pitiful in comparison to what was coming in from above.
Digimon of all types filled the air. Bakemon roared as they descended, Vilemon flapped their wings, Devidramon gave off unearthly howls. There were screams mixed into that cacophony that Tai would later swear sounded like the gates of hell opening up. They fell on the outnumbered defenders like a storm, swooping back and forth overhead, claws flashing as they closed on the ground-based infantry.
The sky turned black, and with it, Tai felt his heart grow cold, felt the breath still in his lungs as he watched the enemy come. Even the sun was blotted out by that force, and Tai knew what would come next. Men screamed and fell as the blasts of deadly digimon impactd them. Flesh seared on contact, muscles tore, bones shattered, and there was sickening thud after crunch as bodies fell to the ground. Screams filled the air, and there was little, if anything that the digimon could do about it.
What the hell do we do now? Matt yelled over the commotion as MetalGarurumon struggled to force the enemy away from them.
Running comes to mind! Tai replied, ducking down behind WarGreymon's protective shield just in time to avoid being boiled alive.
Suddenly all four digidestined were scooped up by Zudomon, hidden under his protective shell to keep them out of the way. With their companions safe, the other three digimon lifted up into the air, fire and light spilling from them. WarGreymon's claws flashed like a hurricane, surrounding himself with a wall of living steel. MetalGarurumon unleashed salvo after salvo of missiles from his living launchers, pouring out a constant rain of fire on the enemies. Lilymon just concentrated on blasting anyone who got too close to the three of them. But soon they were surrounded in a wall of darkness.
In the distance Tai could see the airborne teams assigned to Team Eagle struggling against their own enemies. They had just gotten back in the air when the attack started, and had opted to fly higher than their enemies, moving out of the way of that giant cloud. Still, like some primordeal monster it reached tentacles up in the sky in an attempt to grab them, to pull them back into the maelstrom, but the Eagles were staying well out of the way of that.
And then, with a rush of wings, they were gone, lifting into the sky like a cloud, like the reverse of rain, combining into a massive patch of darkness that blotted out part of the sky. Tai watched after them with amazement, wondering at their sudden disappearance.
Oh great. Joe murmured, looking the other way, and Tai jerked around to see what he was staring at with such a horrified expression on his face.
Tai paused while he searched for an appropriate word. There, in the middle of the barrier, or where the barricade had been, was a gaping hole in the wall surrounded by dead bodies, dead human bodies, thrown around like matchwood. Some of them were trailing blood and entrails from them, and some of them were horribly deformed as if they had been crushed to death. Some others were only recognizable as humans by the uniforms they were wearing. Standing over them was a group of Triceramon bellowing at the top of their lungs as, behind them Bakemon, Woodmon, RedVeggiemon, Tankmon and other unsavory digimon streamed past the defensive walls.
Tai swore as he took off running to try and salvage something from this.
What the heck is that? A boy with sandy hair asked, staring at Manhattan Island as if gleamed in the sunlight, the reflections making it hard to see anything.
I don't know. Izzy answered automatically, before even looking, but he saw the problem immediately. The entire northern part of the island looked like it was covered in a dome of blackness, some sort of artificial construct larger than any building Izzy had ever seen. But there were differences. Inside it he could make out dark shapes and shadows, moving too and fro, giving the whole structure the appearance of being alive, of actually being able to move, like some giant living jelly, some protoplasmic blob that had decided to latch itself onto New York.
I have no idea. Ken whispered from Izzy's side. Is that a digimon?
And then the top of the dome broke, and a steady stream of darkness began to head in their direction as they coasted closer and closer to the city. Izzy peered, and then realized as the strand got closer and closer to them that it was not really a single strand, but rather dark shapes. Hundreds and hundreds of dark shapes, all speeding straight toward them.
No. It's hundreds of digimon! And I don't think they're happy to see us! Izzy shouted. ImperialDramon! Get us out of here right...!
Izzy had to stop his sentence. ImperialDramon had already seen the danger for himself. He might have stopped to fight it under other circumstances, but these were not other circumstances. Despite the fact that he would never have admitted it under any circumstances, he was fast getting exhausted. The huge Mega had been flying for what felt like forever, and he did not want to risk the problem of transforming back into two rookies a kilometer in the air. Immediately he turned around and began to speed away from the oncoming horde.
Izzy watched them outrun the tendril with a grim expression on his face, before turning to face Ken.
Do you know what this means? Izzy asked.
That they've got a lot of help? Davis hazarded.
No. They've cut us off. Izzy replied seriously. New York's on its own.
Adam leaned back in his chair and sighed, thumbs digging into the hollows that lack of sleep had driven into his eyes. With the change in time differentials he had been fighting for twelve days. Even once Gennai had shot out their carrier units in the first minutes of battle, he had lost almost a half dozen worlds already, and it was not looking to get any better. That trick would not work again.
The dark had been able to pass through the next transit point, in time to see Gennai's force of battleships retreat to the next world in the chain. Attacked only by small forces of digimon, they began to relax. The fact that Gennai had defeated only their carriers seemed to indicate that Citadel was aiming for a long range match. There the fast Citadel capital ships could run faster and escape the ponderously slow battle-line of their foes. Only massed squadrons of digimon launched from their carriers could hope to catch up with them, so they had brought their reserve carriers up to aid their frontline units. It also indicated that the forces of light were unwilling to engage in the slaughter involved in descending a transit point. Their best shot would have been intercepting the forces of darkness as they transited up the chain, as that was a constrained transit point, meaning that Gennai could have predicted within half a kilometer where his target would have emerged. That fact that they did not indicated that they were unwilling to engage in the such a manner. So they had chased Gennai's retreating battleships, hoping to catch them before they could make it back up to Cormere, where they would have heavy warships backing them up. If they could chase Gennai fast enough, they could prevent Citadel's superior HV missile technology from having a telling effect. They had rushed the constrained transit point to Doggrel in an attempt to do such.
Adam and Fourth Wing had killed the first sixty dreadnaughts to come through the transit point. He had been waiting within X-ray laser range, and the slaughter had been beyond belief as weapons of thermonuclear potency tore through shields and armor alike at range of as low as a hundred meters. Then it had dissolved into a melee as the dark committed their supercarrier and reserve dreadnaught detachments early, and digimon and fighters had swirled and died as warships continued their suicidal pounding at ranges barely exceeding a kilometer. In the end Adam had withdrawn, Fourth Wing having lost twenty-six dreadnaughts, nineteen battleships and almost a hundred support and carrier vessels. The dark had barely secured Doggrel when Adam, still aboard the battered Leonidas IV, led the entirety of Fourth Wing's surviving line of battle, supported by the fresh and unbloodied ships of Fifth Wing in a crash transit assault right in their face. A two day running battle of suicidal intensity had killed another quarter million of Citadel's finest, but took ninety enemy dreadnaughts and seventy-three supercarriers with them.
But the bastards kept coming.
Now, two transit points closer to Cormere, Adam waited for them to come, fingering his pointer gently, waiting, always waiting.
Sir. Incoming! The warning was unnecessary, and Adam watched in mild surprise as, instead of the expected bombardment, the first massive enemy Dreadnaught appeared on his screens.
I see it. Well, here we go. A second and third enemy appeared on the screen as the ready squadrons roared off their decks and the close in units began to fire. Tell the missile ships and the snipers to stand off and engage the enemy, maximum salvo density. Concentrate on the trailers. He turned to his flag captain. Everyone else, attack plan alpha three. Let's go get them.
Adam smiled slightly and sank back into his chair as the Leonidas bucked and the first salvo of Hyperveocity missiles streaked toward his opponents.
Where are they? TK asked, ignoring the others crowded around the table.
A French girl sitting next to a map scrunched up her brows for a few moments, and then called out a few numbers in French that Catherine quickly translated into English. TK let his face sink back into an emotionless facade and calmly placed the correct markers on the map below. There were all too many red markers there, marking the great mass of the enemy, far too few markers representing teams still on their way and expected to arrive.
It was one of the great feats of modern history. Within a matter of hours a group of children who had never had any formal training or experience in these matters, had combined into a solid command and control group, dealing calmly with most of the problems that had so far cropped up. It was an incredible feat, and the language barrier and the tension in the air only made it more memorable. But compared to the feats that would shortly be required, nobody thought much of it.
Not good. General Alexander, peering over the blonde boy's shoulder, looked concerned. Are they really moving that fast?
Catherine responded, silently measuring the distance. It was hard to do on a map, but the constant movement of the horde had given her some practice. If Kari can't slow them down they'll be within striking range of Paris in twelve hours.
In the heady excitement of combat, in the moment when there seems to be nothing but the game, a game of tag where you are always one step ahead of death, it is easy to forget the limits. For the inexperienced digidestined holding the front line it was just a single misstep, something so easy that, had they been confronted with it, they never would have believed it. Kari's control was flawless, and her diving strikes were impressive, even to those who had never seen digimon truly fight before this day. The constant exchange of charges, long range fire and close in attacks, the drawing out of the enemy came in a dreamy dance.
The forces of darkness simply could no longer hold up. Kari swept down on them like a tornado, arrows of light scything through their outward ranks, sometimes pinning down the odd digimon on the outside, sometimes cutting into the nameless mass. If Kari was unable to drive the enemy to distraction, there always was the London team, operating on the other side. Deltamon roared, three mouths open, unleashing a deadly rain of fire on his foes, Daniel clinging to his back, yelling commands, mostly to Kyle and Brandi, and their companions, Tuskmon and Mojyamon, who stayed loyally by his side. Other digidestined rode their companions like horses, letting the running, bunching muscles take them into danger and out again without a scratch to show for it. Sora's group stayed out of range too, instead of attacking with their low flying attacks they stayed back and dropped rocks on their opponents.
And then one digimon, a novice, a Monochromon, digivolving for his second time ever, made a miscalculation. He was unused to this, and now he was tired, but his digidestined did not see, and did not understand, until too late. He was slow, not moving as agily, and a single attack launched from a prowling Devidramon hit him from the side. He uttered a heart-rending scream, and then collapsed in a flare of golden light, resolving into a rookie for a moment before he disappeared into the arms of his companion, and then into the wings of darkness. The faster of the dark digimon, taunted for too long by the sniping attacks that clipped their wings reacted like an angry storm, and within seconds the two bodies were surrounded by a dark, ragged crowd of twisted bodies. Then there were other sounds, screams and yells, both of pain and anger. And then, even from where Kari was flying on the other side, she could see the rhythm of death began, see fists rise and fall, rise and fall...
Heaven's Charm! Angewomon, sensing perhaps Kari's urgency and her sudden overwhelming anger unleashed the burst that drove the dark shapes back, but it also let Kari see the worst. She almost vomited as she saw the twisted remains of what had once been a human being, and the familiar dust of digital data that marked the passing of a digimon. She screamed, a scream of primal challenge and fury, roaring her anger to the skies, and Angewomon took up the call, golden hair streaming, but something else broke into her attention.
Deltamon had paused at the edge of the engagement zone. One massive skeletal hand had halted, holding a struggling girl back with the gentlest touch he could muster. The girl was frantic, crying in shock, screaming in French, but Kari could not make out the words, only the hysterical tone. She could feel it mirrored on the faces of the other digidestined. Right now, they needed a moment to regain their strength, to recover from the shock. And they were tired, they needed to rest.
She cursed herself, from the bottom of her soul to the top of her head at the folly that had sent the boy out to die. She, the most experienced of them all, should have known, of all people, the danger of fighting to exhaustion. She should have remembered that these were inexperienced digidestined, that they did not know how to fight in the digital world. It was her fault that the boy, and that was what he had been after all, a boy, had been out where he should not have been, and when he should not have been out. Something in her stomach felt like she had dropped an anvil on it, clenching up and contracting as the weight pressed on her bowels, leaving her screaming at her fate inside. It burnt and froze and tore at her, all at the same time, and left her feeling as if she had failed everything she had ever believed in. She wanted to sink down and cry, but something inside, the iron that had always emerged when she needed it most, refused to back down.
Fall back! She yelled to Daniel as she passed by, above the morning keen of Angewomon marking the passing of a comerade. Fall back to the next line of hills! Go, we'll meet you there! Go, now!
Slowly, as if rising from a great distance away, all the digidestined began to fall back. Kari looked back, at the twisted lump of broken flesh lying on the ground, and began to cry, even as Angewomon carried her on.
TK, we're breaking off. Kari's voice sounded oddly strained, and TK immediately looked up, alarmed.
Something's wrong. Cody muttered unnecessarily as Armadillomon jumped up on the table to get a better view.
Kari, what happened? TK asked, slowly and carefully.
I...I'm sorry TK... The voice broke off after a moment. I lost one of them. Then her voice faded off as she turned away.
Catherine swore. TK simply did not move, he just stood there, staring aimlessly at the wall for a time. Then, he turned and walked slowly out of the room, every step as if he were struggling against an invisible tide.
The first. Patamon murmured quietly. But I don't think this will be the last.
Color. Flashes of it, discordant, red and blue and green and grey. Screams, shots, sounds of horror rending the air. Torrents of fire. Storms of ice. More flashes. Striking out and finding flesh. Moving, reacting to the sense of danger. Dodging, ducking, hiding. Striking again. The world for WarGreymon had shrunk down, and now he was transformed once more into a killing machine. His claws ripped through dozens of dark digimon, sending their data scattering everywhere, but they kept coming. They surged against him, as unstoppable as the tides, and threatened to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. He struck back again and again, but his opponents simply kept coming, thrust into him by the push of the crowd.
And the tide did not stop. It kept coming, one after another after another, storming toward him like a hurricane, unstoppable as a force of nature. He stood in front and let them bounce off of his armor, but there was little else he could do for now. Still, someone had to stand between the enemy and the frail humans that he was protecting. He could feel his armor rent by unseen blows, could feel streaks of fire squeak through his defenses, and could feel the steadily mounting pressure on his front.
WarGreymon! Fall back! Hurry! Tai's voice could barely be heard over the din of battle, but WarGreymon understood it implicitly and responded, darting back as fast as he could through the tide standing in his way. Individual monsters looked at him in askance, and then in sudden terror as he barreled through them, but he ignored them, trying to reach Tai. That was his only purpose now, to get back to Tai before anything else happened. They were not in danger of being overwhelmed, they had already been overwhelmed, and WarGreymon knew that there was nothing he could do about it. At best he could hope that their desperate defense had bought them some time. Every so often he saw a human, sometimes a soldier still vainly trying to fight, sometimes a body on the ground. Some of the bodies were obviously dead, but others were moving, trying desperately to crawl to safety. But there were too many of them, and WarGreymon could only watch helplessly as too many disappeared under the dark forms of the horde.
And then he burst through the crowd, and there was Tai, standing there, holding a baseball bat in one hand that he must have picked up somewhere, crouching over a body that was leaking blood all over the ground. He was surrounded by Gargomon, Endigomon and Lilymon and a dozen other soldiers, most of them covered in blood and sweat, their weapons blazing in their hands. They looked dirty, filthy and desperate, but at least they were still alive, and the tidal wave of bullets was keeping their opponents temporarily out of their way.
WarGreymon, we need to retreat! Tai called.
We aren't going to be able to stop them! WarGreymon yelled back, one claw slicing a feinting Bakemon in half, the other catching a giant WaruMonzemon in the chest. Not if we couldn't do it here!
Trust me! Tai yelled back, and he grinned that grin for a moment, just a moment. WarGreymon had to admire the boy's confidence. In the past few hours he had been exposed to more death and destruction than he had ever seen before in his life, but Tai was still all right. He seemed to be taking this all better than WarGreymon. Perhaps it said something monumental about the human spirit.
WarGreymon shrugged and swelled up, as if he were about to launch an attack. Immediately the digimon pressing against them drew back in fear, they wanted no part in a Mega's full barrage and that gave them a moment of maneuvering time. Having worked with WarGreymon so often before, Lilymon immediately realized what was happening, and blasted a corridor through the dark bodies behind them, sending them flying. Gargomon and Endigomon went next, with the humans clutched between them, running as fast as they could. It was a desperate progression, ragged breaths, blind firing and random breaks of blind firing as they moved through a path of destruction.
They broke through the enemy concentration, but that was not the end of the problem. The evil digimon were desperate as well, half-starved, vicious beyond any reason beyond any measure, beyond anything. Some of then had been maddened beyond belief, and were faster than the pack, and had fallen on the retreating soldiers of the 16th as they attempted to withdraw from their position. It became a scene from hell. The commanders of the American troops were good, some of the best, but even with all the discipline and training they had, there was nothing to prepare them for this horror. The sight of monsters tearing apart their friends and comrades, the death and destruction that surrounded them had taken their toll. Too many had died in the combat preceding these moments, and now they were retreating in disarray, small groups clustering together for self-preservation. There was scattered fighting between Gizamon and other fast, small digimon and groups of soldiers carrying nearly exhausted weapons as the Americans tried to retreat, and their pursuers tried to catch up with them. Tai found his group growing bigger and bigger as they scythed through what enemy stood before them, and scattered troops joined up with them, grabbed or helped along by their comrades.
The streets were mostly blocked. Cars, smashed by the fighting stood on their sides, shards of window glass covering the streets. Huge chunks of concrete were scattered all over the ground, like snowfall. Trees had collapsed, buildings were missing huge chunks, and there were pools of water mixing with the oil of the streets as water pipes shattered. Moving became an exercise in gymnastics, scrambling over one obstacle after another, already trying to keep ahead of what they knew was after them.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity they reached a clear area. Here the street had been cleared manually, by hand by what seemed to be a tremendous amount of labor. Here there were clearly defined barricades, overturned vehicles, fallen concrete and the remains of once-proud building constructing a solid wall blocking the street access. They were close enough to city center that Tai could see Central Park in the distance, but the waiting bulwarks were good enough for him. As they came into the open he could see the movement as people turned to watch him, and then turned back to watch the front lines again. Tai sighed with relief as he saw the tattered American flag, still waving overhead. One line, at least, was still holding.
Steve of Team Eagle was waiting for them at the top, his glasses missing a chip out of the corner of one of his lenses, but otherwise intact. Mimi and Joe were there a moment later, and Tai swore he could see Matt out flying through the sky.
You made it. Joe breathed out a sigh of relief and grasped Tai firmly. We were worried.
I'm all right. Tai smiled wanly. But I sure appreciate you guys sticking around. How we doing?
While you were keeping them busy up at the north end of the island we managed to get most of 1st brigade across and set up here. Steve reported. We've got some National Guard movement into our rear right now, but for the moment everything we have is here.
Then it's settled. Tai stated firmly. We hold the line.
That was the last thing WarGreymon saw as he slid into blackness.
General Sir Thomas Alexander sat down on the concrete bench without looking around at the boy next to him, and only understanding just a little of why he was out here talking to him. He belonged with his troops, but that in itself was a laugh. He was a Brit in Paris, and the only troops he had were his clerical staff, whom he had already sent out with the military evacuation. From what he heard on the radio the French command system was disrupted and heavily hit. There would be no help from them until they got organized, and with the enemy Juggernaught rolling into town in a few hours, they simply did not have time. And now he had the impossible job of advising a handful of children who had never truly been involved in war before how to save ten million lives.
He said it was the hardest lesson. TK sighed bitterly for a moment and then straightened up.
What lesson? General Alexander did not make eye contact, watching the beauty of the flowers ahead of him.
The first lesson of command. TK replied evenly.
Colonel Jeffery Winters, USAF, swore under his breath as the new ultra-sensitive cameras under his forward fuselage caught a glimpse of the latest intruder into their airspace. If he had not known better he would have thought it a giant, jet-powered tortoise with a strange color scheme. But as it was, he knew that it was probably dangerous. Chances were that by the time it was close enough to engage the disruption would cripple his fighter, but he had to try. He turned his F-22A Raptor in an interception course lazily, his wingmen following on his heels. Then his radio crackled.
US Air Force fighter. US Air Force fighter, can you hear us? Can you hear us? Respond please. The message, sounding like it was being spoken by an adolescent, repeated several times over. Jeffery stared at his radio in amazement before hitting the switch and replying.
This is Colonel Winters of the United States Air Force. Identify yourself.
This is that giant black and red monster you can see on one side. We're coming in peacefully. I repeat, we're coming in peacefully. Do not attack.
Jeffery rolled his eyes. This was clearly fast becoming a B-movie, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Then he shrugged. None of the monsters had yet made contact, and whatever this one was, it was speaking in English. Maybe whatever it was would turn out to be friendly. But it had not turned to attack them yet, so he shrugged and hoped that someday, somebody would explain all this to him.
I copy unidentified object. Do not deviate from your course or you will be fired upon. We have an airfield about fifty miles from here on your current course. Continue there and land immediately. We'll sort all this out on the ground.
We copy Colonel. We just got back from trying to penetrate into New York, but the bad guys have the place sealed off.
We already know. Nothing is going in or out for a while. See you on the ground. Colonel Winters shrugged and turned his plane around to follow in their new guests.
What is the first rule? General Alexander asked.
A friend of mine told me about it. Unconsciously TK changed. He was still speaking the words, but they were Adam's words as well. The first and hardest rule of command is this. No matter how good you are, how well prepared you come, how many advantages you give yourself, men will die executing your orders. There is no way to prevent this, no way to avoid it, and it is the hardest thing for any commander to be forced to accept. People will die because you ordered them to die. That is the price we pay for victory. You must not allow yourself to be paralyzed by this, but you must not grow inured to it either. All you can do is minimize your loss.
General Alexander nodded.
How do you stand it? TK let his head fall down, tears welling in his eyes, a low gnawing feeling in his gut. How do you send people out to die?
I don't. General Alexander admitted wryly, suddenly feeling the need to bare his soul. TK, I've never been in a real battle before. I commanded troops in the Gulf War, but I was part of the units that were not actually engaging the enemy, only holding the line. The only men under my command that actually died were two soldiers who accidentally drove over a land mine in Kosovo. I've never had to stare into hopeless odds before, never had to stand before something of this magnitude.
I've always wondered if; when push came to shove, if I'd have the courage to stand on the line, to hold it, no matter the cost. It sounds easy enough when you're back in officer's school, to hear the songs of glory from the old regiments. But out here, when you have to put yourself on the line, it's something different.
I'm terrified. I've never been this desperate before. I looked at the numbers, same as you did. Even if you pull another fifty miracles out of your hat, with the people we have here, with the numbers we have here, we're never going to be able hold Paris, even for half the time we would need to evacuate the surrounding countryside. And only a handful of us are ever leaving this city alive. I was looking into your eyes, and I know that you know this as well as I do. And I'm terrified. I've never done this before either, although I've trained my whole life to do it.
I always asked if I would have the strength to stand the line. Well, before the end of this battle it looks like I'll finally know.
TK smiled, and a tear ended up being brushed away, leaving only the faintest hint of a rainbow in his eyes. There's another lesson. The first lesson of life.
Thomas asked, arcing an eyebrow.
Yes. No matter how hard the path, how dark the night, there is always hope. It is all we have and all we need. TK smiled confidently and calmly up at Thomas Alexander, and the older man felt his own face crease into a smile. If the army ever got their hands on this boy they would send him, kicking and screaming, off to the Academy, and he would only emerge as a Field Marshal.
Suddenly the sun was blotted out. TK jerked his head up, just in time to see three digimon soar overhead, a Snimon, a Kuwagamon and a Unimon each carrying a set of passengers, children clutching digimon to them. The familiar faces of Yuri, Anna and Sonja peered down at TK as the digimon began to land, and a dozen more digidestined hit the ground, peering around with a mixture of curiosity and awe. And then, dismounting from Kuwagamon was a much older man, looking more distinguished and wearing a set of camouflage combat clothes. General Alexander swore to himself that the man looked familiar.
Yuri! Sonja! Anna! You guys made it! TK waved his hat at them.
Yuri grinned. Takeru, I would like you to meet friend of mine. He waved at the older man.
The man stepped forward and bowed quickly. I remember you from the Berlin conference General Alexander. And you must be Takeru Takaishi. I've heard much about you from my young friends here. He looked at TK's puzzled expression and grinned. Allow me to introduce myself. I am General Dmitri Sergev of the Russian Federation, commander of the 21st Airborne Guards division. General Alexander immediately remembered the confident, competent general of one of Russia's best new military units. We in Moscow thought that you might be getting lonely, so we brought some company.
He gestured with one hand. To the east the sky was clear, and there, standing out as if someone had drawn it on the sky with a marker, was a line. A line of Russian transport planes, surrounded by Russian fighter planes and flying digimon, headed for Paris, outlined in the sun.
There's always Hope. TK whispered reverently.
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