The Siege
Chapter 10: Customer Support
By JagdPanther
Arleigh sat with U.S. Marine Corps Lance Corporal Casey Johnson on the third floor of the building LP Three occupied. It was about an hour and a half into their watch. Rivera confirmed this by looking at his watch, which read 11:01 PM.
After a few minutes, Johnson nudged Rivera. "Sir, radio. Sort of a conference call. Command wants to discuss things with you and Captain Surai."
The Lieutenant grumbled a bit and took the radio handset. "Lima-Papa Three here, what's up?"
"Three, this is Command. You're online. Good, we can begin. I'm turning this over to my G-2." General Walker handed things over to U.S. Army, Japanese Command's Intelligence officer, Colonel Jake Kerr.
Kerr cleared his throat. "All right, let's get on with it. The NSA just checked in with satellite reconnaissance of the Sumida Ward. As you may or may not know, satellite KH-11 ran out of fuel many years ago so it can't maneuver to cover targets not under it's current flight-path, but we still can use its imaging processors. It's the only satellite we have up there right now with infrared capabilities. Now, I know Lieutenant Rivera does not have a laptop to view these, but Captain Surai does. I'm currently sending over the recon photos."
Two kilometers away, Captain Surai leaned over Kinoshita's shoulder as the images came in. They showed large concentrations of heat-signatures in several areas. A map of the corresponding area was transposed over the images to assist in identifying exactly where the photo was showing.
"The photos are about thirty to forty minutes old. As near as we can assess, every bridge out of the Ward is blockaded. Large groups guard them, but out of direct sight from across the River. We can't engage them, anyway, thanks to the Japanese government. The heat images also show that groups, including armor, have taken over several buildings throughout the Ward. One of them is the old NHK Radio/Television Broadcast Center. At this point, we're assuming that they are intending to broadcast propaganda or demands over the airwaves. So far nothing has come out yet. Also, there are small groups of blips dispersed all over the Ward. It appears as though these could be civilians hiding. We're not entirely sure.
"Next, they indicate that there are two very, very large groups heading towards the station. Unfortunately, with the ban on overflights the Japanese government has enacted for the night, we can't positively identify who is civilian and who is hostile. However, we can tell that there are at least twenty tanks and twenty-five APCs per group. The first group is moving in along a north-easterly-to-south-western path. Approximately 1,300 to 1,400 separate blips can be made out. The second group is moving south- easterly-to-north-westerly. That group numbers roughly the same. Now, we're currently trying to convince the Japanese government to allow recon flights back over the city to identify the groups in terms of their makeup, civilians or enemies. Unfortunately, they're pretty obstinate about this. It appears that politicians are the same the world over."
"Wow, what a friggin' surprise," quipped Surai over the radio.
Rivera depressed the push-to-talk button on the handset. "You know, some day, politicians are just going to have to learn that when the bullets start flying to sit down, shut up, and let the soldiers do their jobs. I'm sick and tired of this crap."
"Couldn't have said it better myself, Lieutenant." Colonel Kerr continued. "Okay, moving along. How many men comprise your LPs?"
Surai came over the com-net. "Uh, LPs one and Two are six men each and LP Three is seven men. None of them have any anti-armor weapons, since they were all under the impression that they had over-head support from the choppers and naval arty."
"Hmm. That's a problem. We're not sure how long it will take us to convince the Japanese to let us use them again so we advise you to recall the LPs and consolidate everyone back at the police station."
"Uh, negative Command." Rivera shifted position on the floor before continuing. "Sir, with all due respect, no one is going to live to see the sunrise if we don't keep these LPs out. Well, I should call them ambush patrols now since I guess we know that the enemy is massing. Anyway, we have to cut them down before they get to the station. Yeah, we don't have anti-armor weapons with us, but we do have 81-mm mortars. We can use them as holdovers. Now, LPs One and Two are within range of the mortar tubes back at the station, so they're good. I'm going to need naval arty and air cover for my LP. We're outside the fan, given the positioning of the tubes alongside the station. No matter where we place them inside the compound, one LP will always be without mortar cover."
"Well, then what do you plan on doing, Lieutenant?" That was Surai. He didn't see where Arleigh was going with this.
Rivera pulled out a map and turned on his red-lens flashlight to read it. "Okay, across the road from my LP there is an old field, soon to be a construction site. Now, there are some knolls and short hills in the field since the land hasn't been graded yet. There's a canal right behind the field. I'm thinking that I should pull my LP out of its current position once I've initiated the ambush, and use the confusion to cross to the field. Set up on the reverse slope of one of the hills and ambush the force as it moves into position to attack where we had been. After a hit, I can gather my team and we can E&E (escape and evade) back along the canal for about 500 meters, then cut up onto the main road, using the southern fork of the road, and ingress to the station through the office complexes. Going along the canal deals with the armored units for a while. Don't know about the foot-troops. Hopefully they'll know their way around the Sumida Ward and they'll take the northern fork to get to the station. The ambush should slow them down, so hopefully we'll be able to hoof it back to the station before the main attack wave gets there."
"That's goddamn stupid, Rivera."
"Thanks, Captain. I aim to please."
Kerr came back. "Well, it's worth a shot. If you stay in your current position you're guaranteed to get killed. General Walker approves."
"Hoo-ah."
"What about the other two, LPs?" That was the Colonel.
Arleigh thought for a moment. "Negative. If possible, rush a few AT4s out to them in a HMMWV. It's better that we ambush the groups. They'll overrun us in no time if we let them just march right up to the station, full-force. Plus, we need to buy some time for while air and artillery support negotiations continue. We desperately need both. And it'd really be nice if we had that reaction force of Electric Strawberries still at Tokyo Airport. I mean, hell, they've got to allow transports to come in." All U.S. Army division's have official nicknames. Consequently, they also have unofficial derogatory names. For the 25th "Tropic Lightning" Infantry Division, they had the name "Electric Strawberries," given the appearance of the Division's shoulder-patch insignia. "We're probably going to need reinforcements at some point."
"I agree with Rivera."
"Approved."
Surai quickly gave the order back at the station to send out five AT4 anti- tank rockets to each LP. Within a few minutes both LP One and LP Two would have the ability to slow the attackers down dramatically by knocking out a few armored units. "Okay, that takes care of that. Now all we can really do is wait and pray. Colonel, we're counting on you guys to get us that support. If we don't, we're all going to be dead come tomorrow morning."
"I hear you, Captain. We're working as fast as we can. Actually, the provincial governor is arriving shortly. It might be best if one of you talked to him over the radio."
"That's great, Colonel. As soon as he gets there, give him a handset. We need that support."
"Will do, Lieutenant."
"Thanks."
After a few minutes, the conference broke up. Arleigh settled back down and took up watch. Johnson stretched and took a drink of water while Rivera pondered the move across the road. He'd wait and initiate the ambush first. The move across the road was going to be difficult. They'd probably have to use smoke grenades to mask their movement across the road. So Arleigh sat there, and waited for the call from Camp Zama, hopefully connecting him with the provincial governor. He wondered how he'd handle that conversation regarding the air and artillery support he so desperately needed. In a few minutes, the call came.
"Lieutenant Rivera? I am Governor Kurusu. I cannot risk any more Japanese citizens lives by giving you support. In the dark, my military advisors tell me, you cannot accurately tell who is who. I'm sorry, but it cannot be done."
Rivera was prepared now. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"Sir, it doesn't work that way. Now, there have already been many civilians killed. This is a battle. That cannot be helped, unfortunately. These bastards have executed innocent people for not cooperating. They cut down civilians who attempted to flee when they attacked the police station. Civilians are already dead in numbers, sir. Revoking our support will only increase the numbers. Now, I know you aren't here and can't possibly understand the entire picture because of that. But, as a professional soldier, in my opinion, everyone, Japanese civilians, Japanese police, American soldiers, all will be dead by tomorrow morning if you do not let us have our air and artillery support. It is imperative that we protect ourselves with everything possible. We will do our best to avoid civilian casualties, but this is, again, a battle, and those casualties are inevitable. I wish there was some way I could prove to you just how badly we need this support without endangering the lives of my men, but that isn't possible, either."
"That's correct, Lieutenant. You can't. And until you can, I cannot give you your support back. In the daylight, you will have it back. Until then, during the night, you can't. I'm sorry, but the national government has spoken and there will be no support. You have to hold on."
Arleigh wished he could strangle people through wireless communication devices. Unfortunately, that also was an impossibility. He was just about to respond when Johnson spoke up. "Sir! Tanks! At the end of the road!"
"Well, speak of the devil, Governor. My position is currently being advanced upon by rogue JGSDF troops and tanks." Two Type-90 tanks and several technicals turned the corner and began a slow move down the road, slow enough for the foot soldiers to keep up. There were JGSDF troops and terrorists intermixed. He told Johnson to go get the others. Using his MSG-90A1's powerful scope, Arleigh watched the troops advance. He could not tell if there were any civilians among them. It didn't appear that way. "2000 meters and closing, Governor. My position does not have any anti-armor defenses. We need that naval artillery immediately if we want to survive. I must initiate an ambush. There is no cowering. I have just observed the group with a high-power telescopic-sight on my rifle and I cannot tell for sure if there are any civilians amongst them, but it does not appear that way. I think everyone is armed."
"Lieutenant, I am responsible for the safety of my province's citizens. I cannot just authorize you to destroy the Sumida Ward. Can you tell me with 100% certainty that there are no civilians? If so, maybe I can talk with the Prime Minister and see what I can do."
"Governor! I do not have time for that! No, I cannot tell you with 100% certainty. There is no such thing as 100% certainty in war! You have to get that support authorized now or a lot more people are going to die! If you are responsible for the citizens, then goddamnit, get me my support! Targets 1800 meters and closing fast. I need that support! Governor!" Arleigh told Ryker to immediately laze the lead tank with the designator. He remembered that there was a possibility that Walker would authorize the ships to fire, despite the Japanese government's policy. "Governor! I need an answer! 1700 meters!" He checked his rifle. "Johnson, go tell Chavez and Antonelli to hold their fire until I fire. Go down and tell Adams and Miller the same thing. Ryker, call a fire-mission into the Chaffee. I want them ready to fire their cannons if it comes down to Walker's word."
Just then, LP Two broke in over the net. "We're in contact! Technicals and terrorists! Shit! RPG! RPG! Everyone get down!" The sounds of explosions and gunfire carried over the radio, probably because Morris had a death- grip on the push-to-talk button of the radio handset. "LP Two initiated an ambush on lead elements of a force! Immediately got return fire! JGSDF troops with trucks and .50-Cals returning fire! Need backup!"
Surai came in next. "LP Two, Alpha Six. Mortars inbound on your pre-plot positions. Redirect fire as needed. Immediately commence fallback to the station. Attempt to recover the HMMWV, if feasible."
"Roger that, Alpha Six! Changing to mortar-team frequency now! We're attempting to escape and evade now! LP Two out!"
Arleigh cut in. "Governor, listen to that! We need that support! LP Two is already in heavy contact and I am very close to being in contact. Enemy 1300 meters and closing! Damnit! Authorize fire!"
"You can't fire those mortars! Cease that at once!"
Two klicks away, at Bokuto Station, Surai had had enough. "GOVERNOR! Now you listen to me, you ignorant sonuvabitch! You don't goddamn tell me how to run my battles! If any American soldier here in the Sumida Ward is even the slightest bit injured because you didn't authorize the friggin' support, I am holding you responsible! I will personally hunt you down and kill you! NOW AUTHORIZE THAT SUPPORT!"
Over Surai's voice came the calls from LP One, now also in contact. "Initiated ambush! Heavy incoming fire. We'll hold on for a few more minutes, then we're falling back to the station. Used three AT4s already, scored two kills on APCs and a technical. Massive enemy group approaching farther back."
LP Two came back online. "We're taking casualties! Two wounded! Shit! Another RPG! GET DOWN!"
Then there was silence.
"Governor, I'd authorize that support if I were you," Arleigh calmly stated. "Enemy approaching LP Three. 1000 meters out."
More silence.
"This is LP Two." Morris was whispering. Something was terribly wrong. "Enemies in the building. Clearing with grenades. I think they've killed Myers and Penalla." An explosion. "Argh!!! I've been hit, ah, damn. Shrapnel. Ah, God, it hurts... Medic..." Japanese voices yelling. "Have to... destroy... the radios..." Then static.
Arleigh bowed his head. LP Two had been overrun. In all likelihood, everyone was dead. "Goddamit. Enemies, 450 meters."
Awkward pause in radio traffic.
"Artillery and Air support authorized." Governor Kurusu sat dejectedly down at the console at Camp Zama. Twenty pairs of American eyes in the room shot lasers through him. It would be difficult to exit the Army camp alive.
Before Kurusu had even finished the word 'authorized,' Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed the one in Ryker's hand. "This is LP Three! Request immediate fire mission! Fire the goddamn cannons!"
The weapons officer aboard the U.S.S. Chaffee already depressed the fire button in the ship's combat center. He had also been waiting intently for the order to fire. "Roger that, ERGM on the way!" The Arleigh Burke-Class AEGIS Guided Missile destroyer U.S.S. Chaffee, DDG-90 shook as its cannon fired a 125-mm shell. The other ship on station, the U.S.S. Farragut, DDG- 99, another Arleigh Burke-Class was firing in support of LP One, which was preparing to fall back to the station aboard their HMMWV. Within a few seconds, the first 125-mm shell landed squarely atop the lead Japanese tank, shredding it with an incredible explosion. The laser-guided artillery shells were specially designed to attack slow-moving targets such as tanks that were lazed by ground units.
But before the first round had even landed, Arleigh called in again. "This is Lima-Papa Three! Request immediate fire mission! Over!"
"Roger, ERGM on the way!"
A second shell ripped the second tank apart, a couple seconds after the first. Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed his M4A1. On full automatic, he ripped into the soldiers standing out in the open. As soon as his first round left the rifle, Antonelli opened up with the M240 a floor above him. His machine gun sliced into the five technicals driving with the troops, killing their gunners. Now everyone at LP Three was at a window, firing into the group. The attack had so stunned the troops that it was several moments before they could muster return fire. In the opening volley alone, scores of enemy troops fell dead or severely wounded in the street. Finally, they managed a response. Slowly the fire picked up until Antonelli and Chavez were forced to drop to the floor to avoid rounds coming in the windows. Chavez lifted his M-16 up over his head and pulled the trigger with his right thumb, sweeping the gun back and forth over his head, hoping the barrel was aimed somewhere near the enemy below.
Ryker called in a few more artillery rounds, but the lead element of the 1st Battalion, Combat Regiment 1, 2nd Brigade, 1st Army Division, JGSDF, kept on coming. It was roughly one hundred fifty soldiers strong before it was hit. Now only about fifty remained intact and unhurt, but that was still far more than what LP Three had. A base of fire was set up and about thirty troops moved up under it to attack the building.
Arleigh dove to the ground to avoid a burst of fire from a terrorist's AK. He quickly jumped back up and launched a 40-mm grenade at the terrorist, killing him. Then he noticed the enemies moving up. "Ah, hell!" He grabbed the radio. "This is LP Three! We've got enemies attempting to enter the building! We're going to E&E ASAP."
"Roger that, LP Three! LP One has safely returned to the station with no casualties. They set up a few booby-traps in the road as a welcoming gift."
"Okay, Alpha Six! Three moving out!"
Arleigh told Johnson and Ryker to get ready. He yelled upstairs for Antonelli and Chavez to get ready. Downstairs, he found Miller and Adams behind the store's front counter, waiting for enemies to show themselves. One soldier made the mistake of doing that, and both men fired, dropping him like a stone. "Guys, we're getting ready to pull back and E&E. Cover us. Once we get outside, we'll come around front, clear the enemy, and pick you up."
"Yes, sir!" shouted Adams as he fired a suppressive burst from his weapon out the now-shattered front window.
Rivera quickly ascended the stairs to the second floor. Grenades were plopping in the windows where the soldiers had been firing from. The enemy had moved around the back of the building, using the small alleyway. The barricade in back was jerking from pushes and shoves from outside. Arleigh, Ryker, Johnson, Chavez, and Antonelli squeezed into a small room with a window overlooking the parking lot. This was their only way out. Rivera lifted the window slightly and looked out. His night-vision goggles revealed no enemies in the parking lot, but he could certainly hear them out back and in front. Adams and Miller kept up their random bursts of fire to keep the enemy from charging the front door. Grenades sailed in, but harmlessly detonated in front of the counter. The Lieutenant turned around and whispered, "Well, this is just going to be like a really high jump from a chopper." He looked down again. "Here, toss my rucksack down to me when after I jump. I'll kill myself jumping with it on."
Arleigh climbed out the window, and fell two stories to the ground. He performed a Parachute-Landing-Fall (PLF), and thus sustained no injuries to his legs, as was the point of the PLF. Quietly coming up onto a knee, he flicked his rifle onto safe, slung it over his shoulder, and fielded the falling rucksack, which threw him to the ground because of its weight. He quickly got back up and waited for Johnson to fall. He helped the man up. Arleigh whispered, "Okay, grab a grenade. We'll clear behind the building." He told Chavez and Antonelli to clear in front.
The enemy was so intent on coming in through the doors in front and in back, that they never noticed the window on the side of the building. They quickly regretted it, though. Johnson's and Rivera's grenades clinked off of the wall separating the building from another office and came to rest right in the middle of the enemies about to blow the door down with grenades of their own. The fragmentation grenades detonated, throwing shrapnel into everything around it. Then the two grenades the enemy had primed to blow down the door, exploded, killing anyone who wasn't already dead. In front, Chavez tossed a grenade, which took out most of the enemies sitting there. Antonelli swung around the corner and lit up the street with his machine gun, firing from the assault position. Chavez leaned around the corner and picked off some of the remaining JSDF troops who had provided the base of fire for the building assault. Those troops began withdrawing into cover to prevent further casualties.
With everyone down from the 2nd floor, the troops regrouped and called around the corner and into the front where Adams and Miller were. "Guys! It's clear out front! But wait until we smoke the road to come out. Grab your rucksacks!"
The five soldiers outside each threw one smoke grenade at varying distances to cover the entire way across the road and into the field. Adams and Miller burst through the smoke closest to the building and reunited with their fellow soldiers. "Thanks, guys," said Adams.
Arleigh made sure everyone had everything. They had all their rucks, both radios, and the laser designator. "All right, let's move."
They ran as fast as they could with all their gear across the road. Sporadic blind-fire from the soldiers who had been laying down a base of fire for the building assault team crossed through the smoke, but miraculously, no one got hit. The team ran across the field to a small knoll and quickly dove behind it. Arleigh grabbed the radio immediately upon landing. "LP Three has evacuated the primary building without casualty. LP Three is changing call signs. LP Three is now Delta Five- One. We'll ambush the next group of enemies from here and then E&E back to base along the canal."
"Delta, this is Alpha Six. When you're coming in, tell us! We're about to get engaged ourselves. LP One's booby traps just went off. Two satchel charges rigged with radio sensors destroyed a tank moving up to attack us. No word from LP Two. Good luck to you. Six out."
"Okay guys, set up along this ridge. Space evenly. Antonelli, I want you second from the right, and Miller, I want you second from the left. Adams and Chavez fill in the ends. Ryker, stay right here next to me. Guys, pass out your extra ammo to the machine gunners." Arleigh shouldered his M4A1 in the darkness. He pulled his MSG-90A1 off of his back and set-up the bi-pod. Taking aim through a scope with night-vision goggles wasn't easy, but Rivera had plenty of practice. The Delta Operator sighted in a JSDF soldier slowly moving up to flank the building where he thought the Americans were still hiding. Unexpected single rifle shots are almost impossible to locate, and that's just what happened. Squeezing the trigger, Arleigh sent a 7.62mm round through the rogue soldier's left shoulder. The soldier fell dead, and his comrades hit the deck immediately, completely unable to tell where the shot had come from. Arleigh continued firing, cutting down terrorists and soldiers alike.
After the fifth person fell dead, they located the sniper's position from the muzzle flash against the night sky. They began to seek better cover and wait for the main attack force to arrive, which was just rounding the corner at the end of the road.
The six other soldiers sent sporadic bursts of fire across the field, 100 meters to the roadway. Ryker had already set up the designator just above the crest of the small hill and sighted it for where he expected tanks to appear at any moment.
Arleigh stopped firing and picked up the radio. "Delta-Five-One to Command, how long until air support arrives on-station? We can hear tank treads creaking on up the road. Over."
"Soon, Five-One, soon. First AH-6 flight on station in four minutes. First AH-64 flight on station eight minutes. U.S.S. Lassen, DDG-82 on station in three hours. Over." The Lassen was steaming its way across the Pacific at flank speed to reach gunnery range. In three hours, the ship would be 96 kilometers off the coast, just within range of the 125-mm gun loaded with Extended-Range-Guided-Munition rounds.
"Roger, thanks for the update. Five-One out."
Two minutes passed before the lead tank exposed itself. Evidently, the position of the seven soldiers had not been relayed to the tank driver. Ryker, on the second radio, called in an artillery round from the Chaffee. With the same effect as the previous rounds, the shell screamed in and obliterated the tank. However, the burning tank presented a small problem. Ryker couldn't shoot the laser through the flames and the smoke to the APC that was attempting to pass the tank along the sidewalk.
Already the other six men, including Rivera, were firing at troops attempting to assault their position. Antonelli and Johnson were laying down steady streams of machine gun fire. The heavier-duty M240 pounded away, kicking dirt up a meter high wherever it hit. The lighter M249 Johnson was using saturated the areas where he thought troops might be taking cover.
Ryker was just about to gain a target lock on the APC when it opened fire. The troop carrier's 35mm automatic cannon erupted, sending shells lancing at the knoll. At first the rounds all missed high, but they slowly started descending. Ryker dove for cover as a shell whizzed by his head. Everyone pulled back below the crest of the knoll as rounds began impacting on the ground. Arleigh dove for the radio and called in a plea for help. "This is 5-1! I need immediate air support! An APC has us pinned down and we can't laze it!"
"Delta Five-One, Comet Four-Three and Four-Four. No sweat, keep your heads down. We'll light up the area with rockets and minigun."
'What a sight for sore eyes', thought Rivera. The two AH-6 Little Birds swooped in and opened up on the column of troops. White-tailed Rockets and blood-red minigun rounds with tracers slashed at the enemy below on the road. However, just before the Hydra rocket pierced the APCs turret, a single 35mm shell from the APC exploded the laser designator on the knoll. Plastic and glass showered down on Ryker and Rivera as they covered their heads. Then they were met with the sound of the APC detonating on the road. The Little Birds made another pass. More horrendous explosions marked the end of several technicals and APCs.
Quickly, the troops got back up to the crest and resumed fire. They kept it up for two more minutes until the AH-64-Ds came on station. "Delta Five- One this is Archer Lead. We spot armor moving down the road. You want those targets on priority?"
"Roger that, Archer! Any and all vehicles are top priority!"
"Affirmative, Delta."
The two Longbow Apache gunships flew over the knoll, firing rockets into the soldiers moving down the road. Then they swung around stopped to hover behind the column. Their Hellfire missiles squashed Type-90 tanks like bugs. After both helicopters had rapidly fired off three Hellfire's each, they began receiving heavy small arms fire which forced them to begin moving again. Any JSDF soldier and terrorist that could, forgot about Arleigh and the pinned down soldiers and fired at the higher-priority target, being the Apaches.
Seeing this lapse in attentiveness, Arleigh dropped his M4A1 and resumed fire with his sniper rifle in an attempt to conserve the M4A1's ammo. Japanese troops and terrorists fell to Arleigh's highly accurate fire. The Apaches continued to make runs with their 30mm chain-guns, despite the heavy small arms fire they were receiving. The more troops that tried to duck and cover from the Apaches, the more ran into Arleigh's sights.
Ryker was the only member of the team not firing, as he communicating over the radio. "This is Delta Five-One X-ray! We lost our laser designator! We can't laze targets anymore! Those tanks are going to be all over us if the Apaches can't keep them off! Over!"
"Five-One X-ray, Command. Do your best calling in rounds from the Chaffee based on coordinates. Sorry. Over."
"Command, Five-One X-ray. That's too damn slow! We'll never survive with just one gun firing! Delta out!" Ryker ducked as an RPG sailed over the team's position. "Shit!" He scrambled over to Rivera on his hands and knees. "Sir! We have to get the hell out of here! We need to fall back right now!"
"I know! I know!" Rivera slapped in another magazine for his MSG-90A1. He fast-crawled back up to the crest of the hill and immediately sighted in on the RPG gunner and put a 7.62mm round through the man's head. "Team! Prepare to fall back to the station! Grab your gear! Set your claymores up on this side of the slope! When we pull back to the canal front, blow the claymores and run like hell! Don't stop running until I tell you to, goddamnit!"
Over the next minute, the soldiers took turns setting up the one claymore they each carried. The small anti-personnel mines were extremely powerful. The entire system was covered in a thick plastic. Curved a bit, the front of the mine held 200 steel ball bearings. Right behind them was a slab of C4 plastic explosives. The curve was bowed out towards the target, and thus when detonated, spewed the bearings away from the firer. The mine did have a slight back-blast so it was best to give the mine and 8-10 meter clearance before detonating.
Rivera got confirmation from everyone that they were ready to move. The Lieutenant rose to one knee and popped off 15 rounds from his M4A1 before tossing a smoke grenade. Ryker and Miller followed suit. Arleigh shouted, "Okay! Let's move it! Go, damnit!"
As the American officer spun and started running down the slope of the hill to the base of the next small hill, he was thrown back and too the ground. The flashlight hanging from the right strap of his LBE shattered as he fell. Private, First Class Mark Miller, just to his commanding officer's right side, immediately noticed the source of the bullet and opened up. Only after PFC Miller had fired an entire magazine and was beginning to reload did he notice that the bullet that had forced Arleigh down had come from behind the position they were vacating. The gunfire was coming from across the canal, not in front of the knoll and on the road.
"Hey! There're enemies behind us! Hey!" Miller went to the ground next to Arleigh, who was clutching his shoulder.
"Ah, damnit, that's gonna be a nice, huge bruise come tomorrow morning!" Arleigh worked his shoulder back and forth a bit before grabbing his rifle. "Thank you God for letting the guy who invented flashlights be born." He popped off a few rounds across the canal.
Already Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez had begun firing across the canal. It appeared as though a group of terrorists had gotten across to the other side with a technical, probably across the bridge several klicks back up the road. The site of tracers coming from behind the team reminded Rivera, Miller, and Johnson that there were still enemies on the road to the front of their old position. Ryker immediately radioed in the team's predicament.
"Damnit! Our E&E route is cut off! Command! Team Delta Five-One cannot egress from the field! We're pinned down!" Sergeant, First Class Chris Ryker glanced to his left and saw that even more enemies were now coming from the front-left of the field, as he was oriented, facing the canal. Now the team had enemies and three sides. "We're surrounded! Need help! Over!"
"Five-One, hold on! More air-support on the way! Just hang on, son!"
"Goddamnit, we can't! We need support now! And one gun from a single destroyer isn't going to cut it!"
Miller stopped firing to give the handset from the team's second radio to Rivera. "Here, sir! I don't know who the hell it is!" Quickly forking it over, he resumed firing short, controlled bursts to conserve ammunition. He was down to ten magazines from his original twenty-two.
"Delta Five-One to whoever the hell this is! I'm in the middle of a friggin' battle! Who the hell are you and what do you want? Over!"
"Delta Five-One, this is the U.S.S. Chancellorsville, CG-62." The Ticonderoga-Class Aegis Guided Missile Cruiser "Chancy," as her name was often shorted to, had two 125mm cannons, as opposed to the single cannons aboard the Chaffee, the Farragut, and the Lassen. "We overheard your calls and we're on station now to support you. Request coordinates for artillery strikes. Over." The Chancy was based out of Yokosuka, but was out on training exercises with a sister ship, the U.S.S. Cowpens, CG-63. Now she was floating out in Tokyo Bay, her bow and stern 5-inch cannons poised to strike.
Rivera fired some more rounds across the river before pulling his map from inside breast pocket. He quickly scribbled across the map with a grease pencil while the fighting continued. There were no choppers on station now. The only waiting reaction forces of the two Little Birds and two Apaches had been spent. Now there were on their own. Arleigh marked his own position as best he could with a grease pencil. Making a judgement call on which group of soldiers, the ones closing from the road, across the canal, or moving along the rear of the field, was most threatening, he grabbed the handset and yelled in, "Chancy, Delta Five-One. I need an immediate strike on coordinates Echo-Lima 6-7-3-9-0-1! Fire for effect! Over!"
"Affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads down. ERGMs on the way. Over."
The artillery shells screamed in over the group's position and impacted along the road as soldiers moved up to mount an assault. Arleigh corrected the Chancy's gunners by calling in shifts in the targeting, such as 20 meters right, 10 meters down. Ryker was calling in single shots from the Chaffee.
For the first time, Arleigh realized that the position the team now held was both good and bad. He took a fast look around him in a complete circle. The still held the slope that had set up on earlier. That offered protection from direct fire from the road, but was vulnerable from the rear, towards the canal, and to the right, towards the back of the field where another enemy force was attacking. Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez were on a slope up to the crest of the next hill. Ryker and Miller, in a small depression along the crest, faced towards the third force. Then Arleigh realized just how close the two hills and their crests were. All it was, was uneven ground. He could spit and hit Chavez's feet. He was kicking Miller's boots. The team was extremely cramped along the knoll, two facing forward, three back, and two to the right-rear. Plus, the two slopes the team held formed a funnel towards the center. If any enemy soldier got close enough to toss a grenade, it would just slide down into the middle of the pack, probably killing every team member.
Adams turned around to help Rivera and Johnson deal with the enemies along the road to their immediate front. Naval artillery shells continued to impact around the team's position, thanks to Arleigh's corrections. Everyone was running low on ammo, though. They wouldn't be able to take much more of this.
Rivera shifted frequencies to call in the status of the team. "Delta Five-One to Command. Enemy forces repeatedly assaulting us with small arms and RPGs. No armored units have attacked since the Apaches left. The road must be pretty clogged with burning hulks. Probably can't get through to us. No more time to talk. Five-One out."
Slapping another magazine home into his MSG-90A1, Arleigh noted that he was down to four 20-round magazines for the sniper rifle. His single shots were deadly, but they wouldn't last forever. He planned to save two magazines for later, and quickly returned to using his M4A1, down to 15 magazines. 'Well, I always have my pistol. Of course, if they get that close then we're all dead, anyway.'
At a secure section of Tokyo Airport, things were in a frenzy. The aircrews of the 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment heard everything from the start. They were furious over their orders to stand down because the Japanese government didn't want them 'hurting civilians.' Damn with them, they thought. Their brothers-in-arms were getting shot at out there.
Mechanics worked at a fevered pitch to ready the choppers for action. The group only consisted of 6 AH-6 Little Birds, now only 5 due to the loss of Comet Four-Two, and 6 MH-6 Little Birds. Comet Four-Three and Four- Four were just returning to base to rearm and refuel. The unarmed MH-6 seemed of no use in the battle, but the pilots insisted on going out to evacuate casualties and bring in supplies. If any pilots were crazy enough to fly into the Sumida Ward now, they were the Nightstalkers of the 160th SOAR.
Chief Warrant Officers Hank Goodman and Barry Polley ran as fast as they could out to their waiting MH-6 Little Bird, call-sign Halo One-One. The AH-6s were taking too long to get ready, loading the miniguns and rocket pods, the CWOs had thought. So they were going out on their own. Goodman would fly and Polley would heft an FN M240 machine gun, firing it out the side of the unarmed MH-6 chopper. They took a box of fragmentation grenades with them. Quickly, they lifted off and headed towards the Ward.
Polley loaded in a fresh belt of ammo and pulled back on the charging handle. "Let's kick some ass, Hank."
"You got it, Barry." Chief Goodman accelerated the Little Bird to its top speed. They weren't going to let down the troops now. They were presented with two options. Go to Bokuto Station and help out the besieged defenders there, or head to Delta Five-One's position. The two decided to head for the latter. Several hundred Army and Marine combat soldiers in a fortified building had a hell of a lot better chance than seven men in a field surrounded by hordes of enemy soldiers. "This is Halo One-One hailing Delta Five-One. Do you read? Over."
The first calls weren't responded too. After a fourth try, Rivera's voice filtered back through the deafening sound of gunfire and explosions. "Delta Five-One reads you Lima-Charlie, Halo! Over." In the U.S. Military, Lima-Charlie was a way of saying 'loud and clear.'
"Five-One, we are inbound from your Sierra-Echo (south-east). Will be on your station in approximately five minutes. Over."
Arleigh cast a confused glance at the handset before replying. "Uh, say again One-One. It sounds like you're saying you're inbound. Over."
"That's affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads low. We'll be starting gun runs as soon as we get there. Over."
"Halo One-One, are you out of your goddamn minds? You're driving an unarmed chopper! Gun-runs with what? Spitballs! Over."
"Negative, Five-One. Picked up a machine gun and grenades. Over."
"You're an idiot, Chief. But we can use all the help we can get. I'm marking our position with an infrared strobe. Over."
"Acknowledged Five-One. We'll radio in when we're over the area. Halo out." Goodman reached between the seats of the MH-6 and grabbed his Heckler & Koch MP5-PDW submachine gun. The personal-defense-weapon wouldn't be much, but at least he could be of assistance during the fight. He slipped the shoulder strap over his helmeted head and down around his waist so he wouldn't lose the gun if he had to make any sudden maneuvers over the battle field. "I'm going to fly as close to parallel as possible to the enemy forces, Barry, so keep that pig (slang for a machine gun) pointed directly out the side.
Arleigh replaced the handset and fired at a JSDF soldier moving into position with a light machine gun. The soldier ducked below cover and Arleigh cursed himself for not hitting the target. Disregarding that, he low-crawled over to his rucksack a few feet away and produced a small cylindrical item with a curved glass plate halfway around the tube. He set it next to himself and continued popping shots off over the crest. Noticing a small group attempting to flank the two soldiers guarding the rear of the position, Rivera primed the M203 grenade launcher and fired off a round. The 40mm shell impacted in-between the lead soldier and the slack man. They were immediately killed by the initial blast, and the fragments severely wounded their two comrades. Arleigh reloaded the launcher. He had two launched-grenades left.
The fire died down and picked up again quickly as the next few minutes passed. Goodman radioed back in. "We're thirty seconds out, Delta. We can see the firefight in progress."
"Roger that, Halo! I'm marking with the strobe now!" Arleigh pulled the arming pin from the strobe and tossed it into the middle of the position. Immediately the device began emitting an invisible and continuous flash from the glass window.
Up above in the Little Bird, Goodman and Polley looked down through their, night vision goggles, special-made for 160th SOAR pilots. "Jesus, will you look at that," remarked Polley. The aircraft, completely blacked-out with no lights on anywhere, was now hovering several hundred meters away from the field. "There's people all over the damn place."
"More targets equals more work. That makes me mad." Goodman goosed the cyclic forward and the MH-6 began a slow advance on the field. "I'm going to make an east-to-west run along that road just over the building roofs. Got it?"
"Yeah, just hurry up and do it. I've got an itchy trigger-finger."
"I hear that." Goodman activated the radio. "Delta Five-One, we're making our first run along the road in front of your position."
"Roger that, One-One. Hoo-ah!"
The Little Bird circled around the field and sped up along the canal. About a kilometer away, the chopped banked hard to the left and then spun around to go back along the road. Skimming just above the tops of the buildings, Goodman negotiated the flight back to the field. Polley, secured to the aircraft by a makeshift harness, leaned out the starboard side door pouring .30 calibre machine gun fire down onto the enemy soldiers moving up the road to attack. The enemies dove for cover and attempted to return fire at the chopper, but they couldn't get a clean fix on the pitch- black chopper except for the muzzle flash of the machine gun.
Polley reached back into the chopper to the center console, where the open box of fragmentation grenades sat. He grabbed one, pulled the pin, and chucked it out the door. Down below and behind the chopper, the grenade exploded in front of a technical, shredding its front left tire. The gunner in the rear of the technical opened fire with the ChiCom .51 Calibre machine gun, but to no avail. Halo One-One was already out of sight around a bend in the road, still firing on the enemy.
Goodman pulled the chopper up and away from the road as it reached the field. He juked the aircraft to avoid return fire. The Little Bird came into a short holding pattern several hundred meters away in the air as Polley reached behind the cockpit seats to grab another 200-round belt-box for the machine gun from the rear compartment. "Okay, I'm good for another run."
"Roger that, Barry. Next run east-to-west along the canal front, then over the field and back up the road, west-to-east."
"Let's do it."
Again they made their run. But this time going along the road they came at the enemy, rather than from behind. This meant most of their incoming return fire would come from in front, too. As the chopper zipped over the roofs, Polley fired the machine gun and tossed grenades out. Goodman did his best to keep the chopper steady, but as bullet pinged off of the front windshield, he was forced to sideslip a little to make a harder target. All of the sudden, a .51 calibre bullet from the technical they had disabled tore through the front windshield. It missed Goodman's head by a few centimeters, continuing on out the open port-side door. "Christ, that was close." He brought the chopper around again and took up another holding pattern above the cityscape so Polley could reload the machine gun.
"400 rounds shot, 200 in the gun, and 1000 left in the rear compartment. Ready to go. Another pass, please, Chief Hank." Polley laughed and resumed his position, leaning out the open door of the tiny special- operations helicopter.
Down below in the field, Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli was firing his own M240. A few short bursts from it dropped a JSDF rifleman attempting to walk single shots up the slope of the hill towards Antonelli's head protruding above the crest. He stopped, though, when he realized he wasn't receiving much return fire from anywhere else. "Lieutenant! The fire towards us is slacking off," yelled the scrappy Italian. "Maybe they're pulling back?"
"They're shooting at the choppers, Spec-Four." That was Ryker. He was reloading his M4A1 with a fresh magazine with one hand, while listening to the radio on the other hand. By this time, a flight of AH-6s was on station and beginning their own gun runs.
Arleigh slipped down the slopes and into the center. His entire body was out of sight from any of the three main places the enemy was attacking from. 'At least I can't get hit by direct fire here.' He found Miller in the center, fixing a jam in his rifle.
"What a great friggin' time for this to happen," spat the U.S. Army radio operator. His satellite radio was sitting next to him. Both him and Ryker had stopped calling in naval gunfire because of the choppers flying over their position. As he replaced the slide and clicked the M-16A2's receiver back together, the radio squawked. He slapped the final pieces of the rifle back together before grabbing the handset. "Delta Five-One X-ray, go ahead, Over." He listened intently over the scattered rifle fire coming from the road and Johnson's short bursts from the M249 S.A.W. Miller's expression changed quickly from indifference to his situation to immediate worry. He handed the receiver to Arleigh, who was sipping at his canteen while taking a moment to do a quick clean of his rifle's barrel. "Sir, radio for you."
"What does command want?" Rivera asked, as he pulled the cleaning rod out of the barrel and reloaded the 30-round magazine into the rifle.
"Not command, Sir. Bokuto station."
Arleigh's head shot up. He blindly pulled back on the slide to chamber the first round. His mind raced back in time, past the firefight, past the radio conversations with the Governor and Colonel Kerr, past setting up LP Three, past the journey from the station, and right back to his conversation with Natsumi. In a millisecond, his memory fast-forwarded to the radio call that had come in just before the team became engaged in the fight on the field they now held. He remembered Captain Surai distinctly saying that the station was about to become engaged. He looked at his watch quickly. 'Jesus. That was almost forty minutes ago.' Time flew when you were in battle, he remembered.
The Lieutenant snatched the handset from Miller and pressed the push-to- talk button. "Delta Five-One here. Over."
"Five-One, this is Alpha Six! We're..."
Before Surai could say another word, a loud explosion flew across the radio and forced Arleigh to remove the receiver from next to his ear because it was so loud.
"Shit, Alpha Six! Do you copy! Captain, what the hell was that? Do you read me! Over!"
Static.
"Alpha Six, SITREP! Over!"
More static.
"Alpha Six! This is Delta-Five One! Do you copy! Over!"
Everyone inside the perimeter stopped firing and turned to look at Arleigh. Ryker stopped talking over the other radio. Arleigh clenched the handset and turned around on his butt to look in the general direction of the station. Despite the ongoing firefight around the team's perimeter, it was still dark enough that Arleigh could make out tracers flying through the air two kilometers away near Bokuto Station. Another pair of AH-6 Little Birds was lighting up the area with miniguns and rockets. But there was still static on the line.
"Shit." Arleigh changed frequencies. "Comet Four-Five and Four-Six, copy? This is Delta Five-One. Over."
"Affirmative, Five-One. Go ahead. Over."
"Four-Five, I just lost contact with Alpha Six. What the hell happened? Over."
"Five-One, a friggin' RPG sailed right into the station. The TOC was hit. No word on casualties. It's pretty hot down there. We're heading back to the airport to rearm. The Japanese are swarming all over the place. Bokuto is holding on, but I don't know for how much longer. Over."
"Delta Five-One. Roger that, Four-Five. Out." He turned to his teammates. "Bokuto is getting hit hard. The TOC just got taken out by an RPG round. Chopper pilots don't know how long they'll be able to hold." If anyone inside the perimeter had even the slightest good feeling about the situation, it had just been nuked.
Arleigh's thoughts immediately went back to the station and the people inside the Tactical-Operations-Center. He hadn't thought about them in hours. Arleigh mentally kicked himself from not being there. He should've been at that station, too. He should've been there, defending the station from the enemy. But he wasn't. He was two klicks away in a field, fighting to stay alive. Rivera thought about Captain Surai, his aides, Kinoshita, Arizuka, the Chief, and everyone else who had been in the TOC when he left. "Goddamnit." He wondered how Miyuki, Aoi, Yoriko, Ken, and especially Natsumi were doing. Arleigh sat there in a daze while his teammates scrambled to get back to their positions. In the lull, the enemy had taken advantage of the lack of fire and moved up. Ryker screamed into the radio for help. The enemy was only 50 meters from their front line, but Halo One-One was still at the end of the road, sweeping up, and Polley was on his last 200-round belt and Goodman was turning for the airport to rearm.
"Natsumi..." Arleigh tightened his grip on the handset. An explosion behind him marked the detonation of an RPG against the reverse slope of the hill. Dirt and rocks rained down on him, but he hardly noticed.
Johnson was firing his S.A.W. on cyclic. Adams pegged a target with a 40mm launched grenade. Miller threw an incendiary grenade at the advancing enemy. Antonelli ceased fire to the rear and brought his machine gun around to bring more fire to bear on the front, leaving Chavez to guard the rear alone.
Arleigh sighed. 'Jackass. You've got a job to do. Don't freeze up now.' He flicked his M4A1 over to full automatic and was about to drop the radio handset when a noise came back over it. It was Captain Surai
"That sucked." Surai grunted. Gunfire and shouting accompanied the radio transmission. To Arleigh, it sounded as bad over a radio as the firefight around him sounded.
"Alpha Six, do you copy? Over."
"Five-One, roger that. Just got a little bump to the head. Read you Lima- Charlie. Over."
Arleigh fired a 10-round burst into the advancing enemies before responding. "Good for you. How's the weather over your way?"
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com
Chapter 10: Customer Support
By JagdPanther
Arleigh sat with U.S. Marine Corps Lance Corporal Casey Johnson on the third floor of the building LP Three occupied. It was about an hour and a half into their watch. Rivera confirmed this by looking at his watch, which read 11:01 PM.
After a few minutes, Johnson nudged Rivera. "Sir, radio. Sort of a conference call. Command wants to discuss things with you and Captain Surai."
The Lieutenant grumbled a bit and took the radio handset. "Lima-Papa Three here, what's up?"
"Three, this is Command. You're online. Good, we can begin. I'm turning this over to my G-2." General Walker handed things over to U.S. Army, Japanese Command's Intelligence officer, Colonel Jake Kerr.
Kerr cleared his throat. "All right, let's get on with it. The NSA just checked in with satellite reconnaissance of the Sumida Ward. As you may or may not know, satellite KH-11 ran out of fuel many years ago so it can't maneuver to cover targets not under it's current flight-path, but we still can use its imaging processors. It's the only satellite we have up there right now with infrared capabilities. Now, I know Lieutenant Rivera does not have a laptop to view these, but Captain Surai does. I'm currently sending over the recon photos."
Two kilometers away, Captain Surai leaned over Kinoshita's shoulder as the images came in. They showed large concentrations of heat-signatures in several areas. A map of the corresponding area was transposed over the images to assist in identifying exactly where the photo was showing.
"The photos are about thirty to forty minutes old. As near as we can assess, every bridge out of the Ward is blockaded. Large groups guard them, but out of direct sight from across the River. We can't engage them, anyway, thanks to the Japanese government. The heat images also show that groups, including armor, have taken over several buildings throughout the Ward. One of them is the old NHK Radio/Television Broadcast Center. At this point, we're assuming that they are intending to broadcast propaganda or demands over the airwaves. So far nothing has come out yet. Also, there are small groups of blips dispersed all over the Ward. It appears as though these could be civilians hiding. We're not entirely sure.
"Next, they indicate that there are two very, very large groups heading towards the station. Unfortunately, with the ban on overflights the Japanese government has enacted for the night, we can't positively identify who is civilian and who is hostile. However, we can tell that there are at least twenty tanks and twenty-five APCs per group. The first group is moving in along a north-easterly-to-south-western path. Approximately 1,300 to 1,400 separate blips can be made out. The second group is moving south- easterly-to-north-westerly. That group numbers roughly the same. Now, we're currently trying to convince the Japanese government to allow recon flights back over the city to identify the groups in terms of their makeup, civilians or enemies. Unfortunately, they're pretty obstinate about this. It appears that politicians are the same the world over."
"Wow, what a friggin' surprise," quipped Surai over the radio.
Rivera depressed the push-to-talk button on the handset. "You know, some day, politicians are just going to have to learn that when the bullets start flying to sit down, shut up, and let the soldiers do their jobs. I'm sick and tired of this crap."
"Couldn't have said it better myself, Lieutenant." Colonel Kerr continued. "Okay, moving along. How many men comprise your LPs?"
Surai came over the com-net. "Uh, LPs one and Two are six men each and LP Three is seven men. None of them have any anti-armor weapons, since they were all under the impression that they had over-head support from the choppers and naval arty."
"Hmm. That's a problem. We're not sure how long it will take us to convince the Japanese to let us use them again so we advise you to recall the LPs and consolidate everyone back at the police station."
"Uh, negative Command." Rivera shifted position on the floor before continuing. "Sir, with all due respect, no one is going to live to see the sunrise if we don't keep these LPs out. Well, I should call them ambush patrols now since I guess we know that the enemy is massing. Anyway, we have to cut them down before they get to the station. Yeah, we don't have anti-armor weapons with us, but we do have 81-mm mortars. We can use them as holdovers. Now, LPs One and Two are within range of the mortar tubes back at the station, so they're good. I'm going to need naval arty and air cover for my LP. We're outside the fan, given the positioning of the tubes alongside the station. No matter where we place them inside the compound, one LP will always be without mortar cover."
"Well, then what do you plan on doing, Lieutenant?" That was Surai. He didn't see where Arleigh was going with this.
Rivera pulled out a map and turned on his red-lens flashlight to read it. "Okay, across the road from my LP there is an old field, soon to be a construction site. Now, there are some knolls and short hills in the field since the land hasn't been graded yet. There's a canal right behind the field. I'm thinking that I should pull my LP out of its current position once I've initiated the ambush, and use the confusion to cross to the field. Set up on the reverse slope of one of the hills and ambush the force as it moves into position to attack where we had been. After a hit, I can gather my team and we can E&E (escape and evade) back along the canal for about 500 meters, then cut up onto the main road, using the southern fork of the road, and ingress to the station through the office complexes. Going along the canal deals with the armored units for a while. Don't know about the foot-troops. Hopefully they'll know their way around the Sumida Ward and they'll take the northern fork to get to the station. The ambush should slow them down, so hopefully we'll be able to hoof it back to the station before the main attack wave gets there."
"That's goddamn stupid, Rivera."
"Thanks, Captain. I aim to please."
Kerr came back. "Well, it's worth a shot. If you stay in your current position you're guaranteed to get killed. General Walker approves."
"Hoo-ah."
"What about the other two, LPs?" That was the Colonel.
Arleigh thought for a moment. "Negative. If possible, rush a few AT4s out to them in a HMMWV. It's better that we ambush the groups. They'll overrun us in no time if we let them just march right up to the station, full-force. Plus, we need to buy some time for while air and artillery support negotiations continue. We desperately need both. And it'd really be nice if we had that reaction force of Electric Strawberries still at Tokyo Airport. I mean, hell, they've got to allow transports to come in." All U.S. Army division's have official nicknames. Consequently, they also have unofficial derogatory names. For the 25th "Tropic Lightning" Infantry Division, they had the name "Electric Strawberries," given the appearance of the Division's shoulder-patch insignia. "We're probably going to need reinforcements at some point."
"I agree with Rivera."
"Approved."
Surai quickly gave the order back at the station to send out five AT4 anti- tank rockets to each LP. Within a few minutes both LP One and LP Two would have the ability to slow the attackers down dramatically by knocking out a few armored units. "Okay, that takes care of that. Now all we can really do is wait and pray. Colonel, we're counting on you guys to get us that support. If we don't, we're all going to be dead come tomorrow morning."
"I hear you, Captain. We're working as fast as we can. Actually, the provincial governor is arriving shortly. It might be best if one of you talked to him over the radio."
"That's great, Colonel. As soon as he gets there, give him a handset. We need that support."
"Will do, Lieutenant."
"Thanks."
After a few minutes, the conference broke up. Arleigh settled back down and took up watch. Johnson stretched and took a drink of water while Rivera pondered the move across the road. He'd wait and initiate the ambush first. The move across the road was going to be difficult. They'd probably have to use smoke grenades to mask their movement across the road. So Arleigh sat there, and waited for the call from Camp Zama, hopefully connecting him with the provincial governor. He wondered how he'd handle that conversation regarding the air and artillery support he so desperately needed. In a few minutes, the call came.
"Lieutenant Rivera? I am Governor Kurusu. I cannot risk any more Japanese citizens lives by giving you support. In the dark, my military advisors tell me, you cannot accurately tell who is who. I'm sorry, but it cannot be done."
Rivera was prepared now. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"Sir, it doesn't work that way. Now, there have already been many civilians killed. This is a battle. That cannot be helped, unfortunately. These bastards have executed innocent people for not cooperating. They cut down civilians who attempted to flee when they attacked the police station. Civilians are already dead in numbers, sir. Revoking our support will only increase the numbers. Now, I know you aren't here and can't possibly understand the entire picture because of that. But, as a professional soldier, in my opinion, everyone, Japanese civilians, Japanese police, American soldiers, all will be dead by tomorrow morning if you do not let us have our air and artillery support. It is imperative that we protect ourselves with everything possible. We will do our best to avoid civilian casualties, but this is, again, a battle, and those casualties are inevitable. I wish there was some way I could prove to you just how badly we need this support without endangering the lives of my men, but that isn't possible, either."
"That's correct, Lieutenant. You can't. And until you can, I cannot give you your support back. In the daylight, you will have it back. Until then, during the night, you can't. I'm sorry, but the national government has spoken and there will be no support. You have to hold on."
Arleigh wished he could strangle people through wireless communication devices. Unfortunately, that also was an impossibility. He was just about to respond when Johnson spoke up. "Sir! Tanks! At the end of the road!"
"Well, speak of the devil, Governor. My position is currently being advanced upon by rogue JGSDF troops and tanks." Two Type-90 tanks and several technicals turned the corner and began a slow move down the road, slow enough for the foot soldiers to keep up. There were JGSDF troops and terrorists intermixed. He told Johnson to go get the others. Using his MSG-90A1's powerful scope, Arleigh watched the troops advance. He could not tell if there were any civilians among them. It didn't appear that way. "2000 meters and closing, Governor. My position does not have any anti-armor defenses. We need that naval artillery immediately if we want to survive. I must initiate an ambush. There is no cowering. I have just observed the group with a high-power telescopic-sight on my rifle and I cannot tell for sure if there are any civilians amongst them, but it does not appear that way. I think everyone is armed."
"Lieutenant, I am responsible for the safety of my province's citizens. I cannot just authorize you to destroy the Sumida Ward. Can you tell me with 100% certainty that there are no civilians? If so, maybe I can talk with the Prime Minister and see what I can do."
"Governor! I do not have time for that! No, I cannot tell you with 100% certainty. There is no such thing as 100% certainty in war! You have to get that support authorized now or a lot more people are going to die! If you are responsible for the citizens, then goddamnit, get me my support! Targets 1800 meters and closing fast. I need that support! Governor!" Arleigh told Ryker to immediately laze the lead tank with the designator. He remembered that there was a possibility that Walker would authorize the ships to fire, despite the Japanese government's policy. "Governor! I need an answer! 1700 meters!" He checked his rifle. "Johnson, go tell Chavez and Antonelli to hold their fire until I fire. Go down and tell Adams and Miller the same thing. Ryker, call a fire-mission into the Chaffee. I want them ready to fire their cannons if it comes down to Walker's word."
Just then, LP Two broke in over the net. "We're in contact! Technicals and terrorists! Shit! RPG! RPG! Everyone get down!" The sounds of explosions and gunfire carried over the radio, probably because Morris had a death- grip on the push-to-talk button of the radio handset. "LP Two initiated an ambush on lead elements of a force! Immediately got return fire! JGSDF troops with trucks and .50-Cals returning fire! Need backup!"
Surai came in next. "LP Two, Alpha Six. Mortars inbound on your pre-plot positions. Redirect fire as needed. Immediately commence fallback to the station. Attempt to recover the HMMWV, if feasible."
"Roger that, Alpha Six! Changing to mortar-team frequency now! We're attempting to escape and evade now! LP Two out!"
Arleigh cut in. "Governor, listen to that! We need that support! LP Two is already in heavy contact and I am very close to being in contact. Enemy 1300 meters and closing! Damnit! Authorize fire!"
"You can't fire those mortars! Cease that at once!"
Two klicks away, at Bokuto Station, Surai had had enough. "GOVERNOR! Now you listen to me, you ignorant sonuvabitch! You don't goddamn tell me how to run my battles! If any American soldier here in the Sumida Ward is even the slightest bit injured because you didn't authorize the friggin' support, I am holding you responsible! I will personally hunt you down and kill you! NOW AUTHORIZE THAT SUPPORT!"
Over Surai's voice came the calls from LP One, now also in contact. "Initiated ambush! Heavy incoming fire. We'll hold on for a few more minutes, then we're falling back to the station. Used three AT4s already, scored two kills on APCs and a technical. Massive enemy group approaching farther back."
LP Two came back online. "We're taking casualties! Two wounded! Shit! Another RPG! GET DOWN!"
Then there was silence.
"Governor, I'd authorize that support if I were you," Arleigh calmly stated. "Enemy approaching LP Three. 1000 meters out."
More silence.
"This is LP Two." Morris was whispering. Something was terribly wrong. "Enemies in the building. Clearing with grenades. I think they've killed Myers and Penalla." An explosion. "Argh!!! I've been hit, ah, damn. Shrapnel. Ah, God, it hurts... Medic..." Japanese voices yelling. "Have to... destroy... the radios..." Then static.
Arleigh bowed his head. LP Two had been overrun. In all likelihood, everyone was dead. "Goddamit. Enemies, 450 meters."
Awkward pause in radio traffic.
"Artillery and Air support authorized." Governor Kurusu sat dejectedly down at the console at Camp Zama. Twenty pairs of American eyes in the room shot lasers through him. It would be difficult to exit the Army camp alive.
Before Kurusu had even finished the word 'authorized,' Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed the one in Ryker's hand. "This is LP Three! Request immediate fire mission! Fire the goddamn cannons!"
The weapons officer aboard the U.S.S. Chaffee already depressed the fire button in the ship's combat center. He had also been waiting intently for the order to fire. "Roger that, ERGM on the way!" The Arleigh Burke-Class AEGIS Guided Missile destroyer U.S.S. Chaffee, DDG-90 shook as its cannon fired a 125-mm shell. The other ship on station, the U.S.S. Farragut, DDG- 99, another Arleigh Burke-Class was firing in support of LP One, which was preparing to fall back to the station aboard their HMMWV. Within a few seconds, the first 125-mm shell landed squarely atop the lead Japanese tank, shredding it with an incredible explosion. The laser-guided artillery shells were specially designed to attack slow-moving targets such as tanks that were lazed by ground units.
But before the first round had even landed, Arleigh called in again. "This is Lima-Papa Three! Request immediate fire mission! Over!"
"Roger, ERGM on the way!"
A second shell ripped the second tank apart, a couple seconds after the first. Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed his M4A1. On full automatic, he ripped into the soldiers standing out in the open. As soon as his first round left the rifle, Antonelli opened up with the M240 a floor above him. His machine gun sliced into the five technicals driving with the troops, killing their gunners. Now everyone at LP Three was at a window, firing into the group. The attack had so stunned the troops that it was several moments before they could muster return fire. In the opening volley alone, scores of enemy troops fell dead or severely wounded in the street. Finally, they managed a response. Slowly the fire picked up until Antonelli and Chavez were forced to drop to the floor to avoid rounds coming in the windows. Chavez lifted his M-16 up over his head and pulled the trigger with his right thumb, sweeping the gun back and forth over his head, hoping the barrel was aimed somewhere near the enemy below.
Ryker called in a few more artillery rounds, but the lead element of the 1st Battalion, Combat Regiment 1, 2nd Brigade, 1st Army Division, JGSDF, kept on coming. It was roughly one hundred fifty soldiers strong before it was hit. Now only about fifty remained intact and unhurt, but that was still far more than what LP Three had. A base of fire was set up and about thirty troops moved up under it to attack the building.
Arleigh dove to the ground to avoid a burst of fire from a terrorist's AK. He quickly jumped back up and launched a 40-mm grenade at the terrorist, killing him. Then he noticed the enemies moving up. "Ah, hell!" He grabbed the radio. "This is LP Three! We've got enemies attempting to enter the building! We're going to E&E ASAP."
"Roger that, LP Three! LP One has safely returned to the station with no casualties. They set up a few booby-traps in the road as a welcoming gift."
"Okay, Alpha Six! Three moving out!"
Arleigh told Johnson and Ryker to get ready. He yelled upstairs for Antonelli and Chavez to get ready. Downstairs, he found Miller and Adams behind the store's front counter, waiting for enemies to show themselves. One soldier made the mistake of doing that, and both men fired, dropping him like a stone. "Guys, we're getting ready to pull back and E&E. Cover us. Once we get outside, we'll come around front, clear the enemy, and pick you up."
"Yes, sir!" shouted Adams as he fired a suppressive burst from his weapon out the now-shattered front window.
Rivera quickly ascended the stairs to the second floor. Grenades were plopping in the windows where the soldiers had been firing from. The enemy had moved around the back of the building, using the small alleyway. The barricade in back was jerking from pushes and shoves from outside. Arleigh, Ryker, Johnson, Chavez, and Antonelli squeezed into a small room with a window overlooking the parking lot. This was their only way out. Rivera lifted the window slightly and looked out. His night-vision goggles revealed no enemies in the parking lot, but he could certainly hear them out back and in front. Adams and Miller kept up their random bursts of fire to keep the enemy from charging the front door. Grenades sailed in, but harmlessly detonated in front of the counter. The Lieutenant turned around and whispered, "Well, this is just going to be like a really high jump from a chopper." He looked down again. "Here, toss my rucksack down to me when after I jump. I'll kill myself jumping with it on."
Arleigh climbed out the window, and fell two stories to the ground. He performed a Parachute-Landing-Fall (PLF), and thus sustained no injuries to his legs, as was the point of the PLF. Quietly coming up onto a knee, he flicked his rifle onto safe, slung it over his shoulder, and fielded the falling rucksack, which threw him to the ground because of its weight. He quickly got back up and waited for Johnson to fall. He helped the man up. Arleigh whispered, "Okay, grab a grenade. We'll clear behind the building." He told Chavez and Antonelli to clear in front.
The enemy was so intent on coming in through the doors in front and in back, that they never noticed the window on the side of the building. They quickly regretted it, though. Johnson's and Rivera's grenades clinked off of the wall separating the building from another office and came to rest right in the middle of the enemies about to blow the door down with grenades of their own. The fragmentation grenades detonated, throwing shrapnel into everything around it. Then the two grenades the enemy had primed to blow down the door, exploded, killing anyone who wasn't already dead. In front, Chavez tossed a grenade, which took out most of the enemies sitting there. Antonelli swung around the corner and lit up the street with his machine gun, firing from the assault position. Chavez leaned around the corner and picked off some of the remaining JSDF troops who had provided the base of fire for the building assault. Those troops began withdrawing into cover to prevent further casualties.
With everyone down from the 2nd floor, the troops regrouped and called around the corner and into the front where Adams and Miller were. "Guys! It's clear out front! But wait until we smoke the road to come out. Grab your rucksacks!"
The five soldiers outside each threw one smoke grenade at varying distances to cover the entire way across the road and into the field. Adams and Miller burst through the smoke closest to the building and reunited with their fellow soldiers. "Thanks, guys," said Adams.
Arleigh made sure everyone had everything. They had all their rucks, both radios, and the laser designator. "All right, let's move."
They ran as fast as they could with all their gear across the road. Sporadic blind-fire from the soldiers who had been laying down a base of fire for the building assault team crossed through the smoke, but miraculously, no one got hit. The team ran across the field to a small knoll and quickly dove behind it. Arleigh grabbed the radio immediately upon landing. "LP Three has evacuated the primary building without casualty. LP Three is changing call signs. LP Three is now Delta Five- One. We'll ambush the next group of enemies from here and then E&E back to base along the canal."
"Delta, this is Alpha Six. When you're coming in, tell us! We're about to get engaged ourselves. LP One's booby traps just went off. Two satchel charges rigged with radio sensors destroyed a tank moving up to attack us. No word from LP Two. Good luck to you. Six out."
"Okay guys, set up along this ridge. Space evenly. Antonelli, I want you second from the right, and Miller, I want you second from the left. Adams and Chavez fill in the ends. Ryker, stay right here next to me. Guys, pass out your extra ammo to the machine gunners." Arleigh shouldered his M4A1 in the darkness. He pulled his MSG-90A1 off of his back and set-up the bi-pod. Taking aim through a scope with night-vision goggles wasn't easy, but Rivera had plenty of practice. The Delta Operator sighted in a JSDF soldier slowly moving up to flank the building where he thought the Americans were still hiding. Unexpected single rifle shots are almost impossible to locate, and that's just what happened. Squeezing the trigger, Arleigh sent a 7.62mm round through the rogue soldier's left shoulder. The soldier fell dead, and his comrades hit the deck immediately, completely unable to tell where the shot had come from. Arleigh continued firing, cutting down terrorists and soldiers alike.
After the fifth person fell dead, they located the sniper's position from the muzzle flash against the night sky. They began to seek better cover and wait for the main attack force to arrive, which was just rounding the corner at the end of the road.
The six other soldiers sent sporadic bursts of fire across the field, 100 meters to the roadway. Ryker had already set up the designator just above the crest of the small hill and sighted it for where he expected tanks to appear at any moment.
Arleigh stopped firing and picked up the radio. "Delta-Five-One to Command, how long until air support arrives on-station? We can hear tank treads creaking on up the road. Over."
"Soon, Five-One, soon. First AH-6 flight on station in four minutes. First AH-64 flight on station eight minutes. U.S.S. Lassen, DDG-82 on station in three hours. Over." The Lassen was steaming its way across the Pacific at flank speed to reach gunnery range. In three hours, the ship would be 96 kilometers off the coast, just within range of the 125-mm gun loaded with Extended-Range-Guided-Munition rounds.
"Roger, thanks for the update. Five-One out."
Two minutes passed before the lead tank exposed itself. Evidently, the position of the seven soldiers had not been relayed to the tank driver. Ryker, on the second radio, called in an artillery round from the Chaffee. With the same effect as the previous rounds, the shell screamed in and obliterated the tank. However, the burning tank presented a small problem. Ryker couldn't shoot the laser through the flames and the smoke to the APC that was attempting to pass the tank along the sidewalk.
Already the other six men, including Rivera, were firing at troops attempting to assault their position. Antonelli and Johnson were laying down steady streams of machine gun fire. The heavier-duty M240 pounded away, kicking dirt up a meter high wherever it hit. The lighter M249 Johnson was using saturated the areas where he thought troops might be taking cover.
Ryker was just about to gain a target lock on the APC when it opened fire. The troop carrier's 35mm automatic cannon erupted, sending shells lancing at the knoll. At first the rounds all missed high, but they slowly started descending. Ryker dove for cover as a shell whizzed by his head. Everyone pulled back below the crest of the knoll as rounds began impacting on the ground. Arleigh dove for the radio and called in a plea for help. "This is 5-1! I need immediate air support! An APC has us pinned down and we can't laze it!"
"Delta Five-One, Comet Four-Three and Four-Four. No sweat, keep your heads down. We'll light up the area with rockets and minigun."
'What a sight for sore eyes', thought Rivera. The two AH-6 Little Birds swooped in and opened up on the column of troops. White-tailed Rockets and blood-red minigun rounds with tracers slashed at the enemy below on the road. However, just before the Hydra rocket pierced the APCs turret, a single 35mm shell from the APC exploded the laser designator on the knoll. Plastic and glass showered down on Ryker and Rivera as they covered their heads. Then they were met with the sound of the APC detonating on the road. The Little Birds made another pass. More horrendous explosions marked the end of several technicals and APCs.
Quickly, the troops got back up to the crest and resumed fire. They kept it up for two more minutes until the AH-64-Ds came on station. "Delta Five- One this is Archer Lead. We spot armor moving down the road. You want those targets on priority?"
"Roger that, Archer! Any and all vehicles are top priority!"
"Affirmative, Delta."
The two Longbow Apache gunships flew over the knoll, firing rockets into the soldiers moving down the road. Then they swung around stopped to hover behind the column. Their Hellfire missiles squashed Type-90 tanks like bugs. After both helicopters had rapidly fired off three Hellfire's each, they began receiving heavy small arms fire which forced them to begin moving again. Any JSDF soldier and terrorist that could, forgot about Arleigh and the pinned down soldiers and fired at the higher-priority target, being the Apaches.
Seeing this lapse in attentiveness, Arleigh dropped his M4A1 and resumed fire with his sniper rifle in an attempt to conserve the M4A1's ammo. Japanese troops and terrorists fell to Arleigh's highly accurate fire. The Apaches continued to make runs with their 30mm chain-guns, despite the heavy small arms fire they were receiving. The more troops that tried to duck and cover from the Apaches, the more ran into Arleigh's sights.
Ryker was the only member of the team not firing, as he communicating over the radio. "This is Delta Five-One X-ray! We lost our laser designator! We can't laze targets anymore! Those tanks are going to be all over us if the Apaches can't keep them off! Over!"
"Five-One X-ray, Command. Do your best calling in rounds from the Chaffee based on coordinates. Sorry. Over."
"Command, Five-One X-ray. That's too damn slow! We'll never survive with just one gun firing! Delta out!" Ryker ducked as an RPG sailed over the team's position. "Shit!" He scrambled over to Rivera on his hands and knees. "Sir! We have to get the hell out of here! We need to fall back right now!"
"I know! I know!" Rivera slapped in another magazine for his MSG-90A1. He fast-crawled back up to the crest of the hill and immediately sighted in on the RPG gunner and put a 7.62mm round through the man's head. "Team! Prepare to fall back to the station! Grab your gear! Set your claymores up on this side of the slope! When we pull back to the canal front, blow the claymores and run like hell! Don't stop running until I tell you to, goddamnit!"
Over the next minute, the soldiers took turns setting up the one claymore they each carried. The small anti-personnel mines were extremely powerful. The entire system was covered in a thick plastic. Curved a bit, the front of the mine held 200 steel ball bearings. Right behind them was a slab of C4 plastic explosives. The curve was bowed out towards the target, and thus when detonated, spewed the bearings away from the firer. The mine did have a slight back-blast so it was best to give the mine and 8-10 meter clearance before detonating.
Rivera got confirmation from everyone that they were ready to move. The Lieutenant rose to one knee and popped off 15 rounds from his M4A1 before tossing a smoke grenade. Ryker and Miller followed suit. Arleigh shouted, "Okay! Let's move it! Go, damnit!"
As the American officer spun and started running down the slope of the hill to the base of the next small hill, he was thrown back and too the ground. The flashlight hanging from the right strap of his LBE shattered as he fell. Private, First Class Mark Miller, just to his commanding officer's right side, immediately noticed the source of the bullet and opened up. Only after PFC Miller had fired an entire magazine and was beginning to reload did he notice that the bullet that had forced Arleigh down had come from behind the position they were vacating. The gunfire was coming from across the canal, not in front of the knoll and on the road.
"Hey! There're enemies behind us! Hey!" Miller went to the ground next to Arleigh, who was clutching his shoulder.
"Ah, damnit, that's gonna be a nice, huge bruise come tomorrow morning!" Arleigh worked his shoulder back and forth a bit before grabbing his rifle. "Thank you God for letting the guy who invented flashlights be born." He popped off a few rounds across the canal.
Already Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez had begun firing across the canal. It appeared as though a group of terrorists had gotten across to the other side with a technical, probably across the bridge several klicks back up the road. The site of tracers coming from behind the team reminded Rivera, Miller, and Johnson that there were still enemies on the road to the front of their old position. Ryker immediately radioed in the team's predicament.
"Damnit! Our E&E route is cut off! Command! Team Delta Five-One cannot egress from the field! We're pinned down!" Sergeant, First Class Chris Ryker glanced to his left and saw that even more enemies were now coming from the front-left of the field, as he was oriented, facing the canal. Now the team had enemies and three sides. "We're surrounded! Need help! Over!"
"Five-One, hold on! More air-support on the way! Just hang on, son!"
"Goddamnit, we can't! We need support now! And one gun from a single destroyer isn't going to cut it!"
Miller stopped firing to give the handset from the team's second radio to Rivera. "Here, sir! I don't know who the hell it is!" Quickly forking it over, he resumed firing short, controlled bursts to conserve ammunition. He was down to ten magazines from his original twenty-two.
"Delta Five-One to whoever the hell this is! I'm in the middle of a friggin' battle! Who the hell are you and what do you want? Over!"
"Delta Five-One, this is the U.S.S. Chancellorsville, CG-62." The Ticonderoga-Class Aegis Guided Missile Cruiser "Chancy," as her name was often shorted to, had two 125mm cannons, as opposed to the single cannons aboard the Chaffee, the Farragut, and the Lassen. "We overheard your calls and we're on station now to support you. Request coordinates for artillery strikes. Over." The Chancy was based out of Yokosuka, but was out on training exercises with a sister ship, the U.S.S. Cowpens, CG-63. Now she was floating out in Tokyo Bay, her bow and stern 5-inch cannons poised to strike.
Rivera fired some more rounds across the river before pulling his map from inside breast pocket. He quickly scribbled across the map with a grease pencil while the fighting continued. There were no choppers on station now. The only waiting reaction forces of the two Little Birds and two Apaches had been spent. Now there were on their own. Arleigh marked his own position as best he could with a grease pencil. Making a judgement call on which group of soldiers, the ones closing from the road, across the canal, or moving along the rear of the field, was most threatening, he grabbed the handset and yelled in, "Chancy, Delta Five-One. I need an immediate strike on coordinates Echo-Lima 6-7-3-9-0-1! Fire for effect! Over!"
"Affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads down. ERGMs on the way. Over."
The artillery shells screamed in over the group's position and impacted along the road as soldiers moved up to mount an assault. Arleigh corrected the Chancy's gunners by calling in shifts in the targeting, such as 20 meters right, 10 meters down. Ryker was calling in single shots from the Chaffee.
For the first time, Arleigh realized that the position the team now held was both good and bad. He took a fast look around him in a complete circle. The still held the slope that had set up on earlier. That offered protection from direct fire from the road, but was vulnerable from the rear, towards the canal, and to the right, towards the back of the field where another enemy force was attacking. Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez were on a slope up to the crest of the next hill. Ryker and Miller, in a small depression along the crest, faced towards the third force. Then Arleigh realized just how close the two hills and their crests were. All it was, was uneven ground. He could spit and hit Chavez's feet. He was kicking Miller's boots. The team was extremely cramped along the knoll, two facing forward, three back, and two to the right-rear. Plus, the two slopes the team held formed a funnel towards the center. If any enemy soldier got close enough to toss a grenade, it would just slide down into the middle of the pack, probably killing every team member.
Adams turned around to help Rivera and Johnson deal with the enemies along the road to their immediate front. Naval artillery shells continued to impact around the team's position, thanks to Arleigh's corrections. Everyone was running low on ammo, though. They wouldn't be able to take much more of this.
Rivera shifted frequencies to call in the status of the team. "Delta Five-One to Command. Enemy forces repeatedly assaulting us with small arms and RPGs. No armored units have attacked since the Apaches left. The road must be pretty clogged with burning hulks. Probably can't get through to us. No more time to talk. Five-One out."
Slapping another magazine home into his MSG-90A1, Arleigh noted that he was down to four 20-round magazines for the sniper rifle. His single shots were deadly, but they wouldn't last forever. He planned to save two magazines for later, and quickly returned to using his M4A1, down to 15 magazines. 'Well, I always have my pistol. Of course, if they get that close then we're all dead, anyway.'
At a secure section of Tokyo Airport, things were in a frenzy. The aircrews of the 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment heard everything from the start. They were furious over their orders to stand down because the Japanese government didn't want them 'hurting civilians.' Damn with them, they thought. Their brothers-in-arms were getting shot at out there.
Mechanics worked at a fevered pitch to ready the choppers for action. The group only consisted of 6 AH-6 Little Birds, now only 5 due to the loss of Comet Four-Two, and 6 MH-6 Little Birds. Comet Four-Three and Four- Four were just returning to base to rearm and refuel. The unarmed MH-6 seemed of no use in the battle, but the pilots insisted on going out to evacuate casualties and bring in supplies. If any pilots were crazy enough to fly into the Sumida Ward now, they were the Nightstalkers of the 160th SOAR.
Chief Warrant Officers Hank Goodman and Barry Polley ran as fast as they could out to their waiting MH-6 Little Bird, call-sign Halo One-One. The AH-6s were taking too long to get ready, loading the miniguns and rocket pods, the CWOs had thought. So they were going out on their own. Goodman would fly and Polley would heft an FN M240 machine gun, firing it out the side of the unarmed MH-6 chopper. They took a box of fragmentation grenades with them. Quickly, they lifted off and headed towards the Ward.
Polley loaded in a fresh belt of ammo and pulled back on the charging handle. "Let's kick some ass, Hank."
"You got it, Barry." Chief Goodman accelerated the Little Bird to its top speed. They weren't going to let down the troops now. They were presented with two options. Go to Bokuto Station and help out the besieged defenders there, or head to Delta Five-One's position. The two decided to head for the latter. Several hundred Army and Marine combat soldiers in a fortified building had a hell of a lot better chance than seven men in a field surrounded by hordes of enemy soldiers. "This is Halo One-One hailing Delta Five-One. Do you read? Over."
The first calls weren't responded too. After a fourth try, Rivera's voice filtered back through the deafening sound of gunfire and explosions. "Delta Five-One reads you Lima-Charlie, Halo! Over." In the U.S. Military, Lima-Charlie was a way of saying 'loud and clear.'
"Five-One, we are inbound from your Sierra-Echo (south-east). Will be on your station in approximately five minutes. Over."
Arleigh cast a confused glance at the handset before replying. "Uh, say again One-One. It sounds like you're saying you're inbound. Over."
"That's affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads low. We'll be starting gun runs as soon as we get there. Over."
"Halo One-One, are you out of your goddamn minds? You're driving an unarmed chopper! Gun-runs with what? Spitballs! Over."
"Negative, Five-One. Picked up a machine gun and grenades. Over."
"You're an idiot, Chief. But we can use all the help we can get. I'm marking our position with an infrared strobe. Over."
"Acknowledged Five-One. We'll radio in when we're over the area. Halo out." Goodman reached between the seats of the MH-6 and grabbed his Heckler & Koch MP5-PDW submachine gun. The personal-defense-weapon wouldn't be much, but at least he could be of assistance during the fight. He slipped the shoulder strap over his helmeted head and down around his waist so he wouldn't lose the gun if he had to make any sudden maneuvers over the battle field. "I'm going to fly as close to parallel as possible to the enemy forces, Barry, so keep that pig (slang for a machine gun) pointed directly out the side.
Arleigh replaced the handset and fired at a JSDF soldier moving into position with a light machine gun. The soldier ducked below cover and Arleigh cursed himself for not hitting the target. Disregarding that, he low-crawled over to his rucksack a few feet away and produced a small cylindrical item with a curved glass plate halfway around the tube. He set it next to himself and continued popping shots off over the crest. Noticing a small group attempting to flank the two soldiers guarding the rear of the position, Rivera primed the M203 grenade launcher and fired off a round. The 40mm shell impacted in-between the lead soldier and the slack man. They were immediately killed by the initial blast, and the fragments severely wounded their two comrades. Arleigh reloaded the launcher. He had two launched-grenades left.
The fire died down and picked up again quickly as the next few minutes passed. Goodman radioed back in. "We're thirty seconds out, Delta. We can see the firefight in progress."
"Roger that, Halo! I'm marking with the strobe now!" Arleigh pulled the arming pin from the strobe and tossed it into the middle of the position. Immediately the device began emitting an invisible and continuous flash from the glass window.
Up above in the Little Bird, Goodman and Polley looked down through their, night vision goggles, special-made for 160th SOAR pilots. "Jesus, will you look at that," remarked Polley. The aircraft, completely blacked-out with no lights on anywhere, was now hovering several hundred meters away from the field. "There's people all over the damn place."
"More targets equals more work. That makes me mad." Goodman goosed the cyclic forward and the MH-6 began a slow advance on the field. "I'm going to make an east-to-west run along that road just over the building roofs. Got it?"
"Yeah, just hurry up and do it. I've got an itchy trigger-finger."
"I hear that." Goodman activated the radio. "Delta Five-One, we're making our first run along the road in front of your position."
"Roger that, One-One. Hoo-ah!"
The Little Bird circled around the field and sped up along the canal. About a kilometer away, the chopped banked hard to the left and then spun around to go back along the road. Skimming just above the tops of the buildings, Goodman negotiated the flight back to the field. Polley, secured to the aircraft by a makeshift harness, leaned out the starboard side door pouring .30 calibre machine gun fire down onto the enemy soldiers moving up the road to attack. The enemies dove for cover and attempted to return fire at the chopper, but they couldn't get a clean fix on the pitch- black chopper except for the muzzle flash of the machine gun.
Polley reached back into the chopper to the center console, where the open box of fragmentation grenades sat. He grabbed one, pulled the pin, and chucked it out the door. Down below and behind the chopper, the grenade exploded in front of a technical, shredding its front left tire. The gunner in the rear of the technical opened fire with the ChiCom .51 Calibre machine gun, but to no avail. Halo One-One was already out of sight around a bend in the road, still firing on the enemy.
Goodman pulled the chopper up and away from the road as it reached the field. He juked the aircraft to avoid return fire. The Little Bird came into a short holding pattern several hundred meters away in the air as Polley reached behind the cockpit seats to grab another 200-round belt-box for the machine gun from the rear compartment. "Okay, I'm good for another run."
"Roger that, Barry. Next run east-to-west along the canal front, then over the field and back up the road, west-to-east."
"Let's do it."
Again they made their run. But this time going along the road they came at the enemy, rather than from behind. This meant most of their incoming return fire would come from in front, too. As the chopper zipped over the roofs, Polley fired the machine gun and tossed grenades out. Goodman did his best to keep the chopper steady, but as bullet pinged off of the front windshield, he was forced to sideslip a little to make a harder target. All of the sudden, a .51 calibre bullet from the technical they had disabled tore through the front windshield. It missed Goodman's head by a few centimeters, continuing on out the open port-side door. "Christ, that was close." He brought the chopper around again and took up another holding pattern above the cityscape so Polley could reload the machine gun.
"400 rounds shot, 200 in the gun, and 1000 left in the rear compartment. Ready to go. Another pass, please, Chief Hank." Polley laughed and resumed his position, leaning out the open door of the tiny special- operations helicopter.
Down below in the field, Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli was firing his own M240. A few short bursts from it dropped a JSDF rifleman attempting to walk single shots up the slope of the hill towards Antonelli's head protruding above the crest. He stopped, though, when he realized he wasn't receiving much return fire from anywhere else. "Lieutenant! The fire towards us is slacking off," yelled the scrappy Italian. "Maybe they're pulling back?"
"They're shooting at the choppers, Spec-Four." That was Ryker. He was reloading his M4A1 with a fresh magazine with one hand, while listening to the radio on the other hand. By this time, a flight of AH-6s was on station and beginning their own gun runs.
Arleigh slipped down the slopes and into the center. His entire body was out of sight from any of the three main places the enemy was attacking from. 'At least I can't get hit by direct fire here.' He found Miller in the center, fixing a jam in his rifle.
"What a great friggin' time for this to happen," spat the U.S. Army radio operator. His satellite radio was sitting next to him. Both him and Ryker had stopped calling in naval gunfire because of the choppers flying over their position. As he replaced the slide and clicked the M-16A2's receiver back together, the radio squawked. He slapped the final pieces of the rifle back together before grabbing the handset. "Delta Five-One X-ray, go ahead, Over." He listened intently over the scattered rifle fire coming from the road and Johnson's short bursts from the M249 S.A.W. Miller's expression changed quickly from indifference to his situation to immediate worry. He handed the receiver to Arleigh, who was sipping at his canteen while taking a moment to do a quick clean of his rifle's barrel. "Sir, radio for you."
"What does command want?" Rivera asked, as he pulled the cleaning rod out of the barrel and reloaded the 30-round magazine into the rifle.
"Not command, Sir. Bokuto station."
Arleigh's head shot up. He blindly pulled back on the slide to chamber the first round. His mind raced back in time, past the firefight, past the radio conversations with the Governor and Colonel Kerr, past setting up LP Three, past the journey from the station, and right back to his conversation with Natsumi. In a millisecond, his memory fast-forwarded to the radio call that had come in just before the team became engaged in the fight on the field they now held. He remembered Captain Surai distinctly saying that the station was about to become engaged. He looked at his watch quickly. 'Jesus. That was almost forty minutes ago.' Time flew when you were in battle, he remembered.
The Lieutenant snatched the handset from Miller and pressed the push-to- talk button. "Delta Five-One here. Over."
"Five-One, this is Alpha Six! We're..."
Before Surai could say another word, a loud explosion flew across the radio and forced Arleigh to remove the receiver from next to his ear because it was so loud.
"Shit, Alpha Six! Do you copy! Captain, what the hell was that? Do you read me! Over!"
Static.
"Alpha Six, SITREP! Over!"
More static.
"Alpha Six! This is Delta-Five One! Do you copy! Over!"
Everyone inside the perimeter stopped firing and turned to look at Arleigh. Ryker stopped talking over the other radio. Arleigh clenched the handset and turned around on his butt to look in the general direction of the station. Despite the ongoing firefight around the team's perimeter, it was still dark enough that Arleigh could make out tracers flying through the air two kilometers away near Bokuto Station. Another pair of AH-6 Little Birds was lighting up the area with miniguns and rockets. But there was still static on the line.
"Shit." Arleigh changed frequencies. "Comet Four-Five and Four-Six, copy? This is Delta Five-One. Over."
"Affirmative, Five-One. Go ahead. Over."
"Four-Five, I just lost contact with Alpha Six. What the hell happened? Over."
"Five-One, a friggin' RPG sailed right into the station. The TOC was hit. No word on casualties. It's pretty hot down there. We're heading back to the airport to rearm. The Japanese are swarming all over the place. Bokuto is holding on, but I don't know for how much longer. Over."
"Delta Five-One. Roger that, Four-Five. Out." He turned to his teammates. "Bokuto is getting hit hard. The TOC just got taken out by an RPG round. Chopper pilots don't know how long they'll be able to hold." If anyone inside the perimeter had even the slightest good feeling about the situation, it had just been nuked.
Arleigh's thoughts immediately went back to the station and the people inside the Tactical-Operations-Center. He hadn't thought about them in hours. Arleigh mentally kicked himself from not being there. He should've been at that station, too. He should've been there, defending the station from the enemy. But he wasn't. He was two klicks away in a field, fighting to stay alive. Rivera thought about Captain Surai, his aides, Kinoshita, Arizuka, the Chief, and everyone else who had been in the TOC when he left. "Goddamnit." He wondered how Miyuki, Aoi, Yoriko, Ken, and especially Natsumi were doing. Arleigh sat there in a daze while his teammates scrambled to get back to their positions. In the lull, the enemy had taken advantage of the lack of fire and moved up. Ryker screamed into the radio for help. The enemy was only 50 meters from their front line, but Halo One-One was still at the end of the road, sweeping up, and Polley was on his last 200-round belt and Goodman was turning for the airport to rearm.
"Natsumi..." Arleigh tightened his grip on the handset. An explosion behind him marked the detonation of an RPG against the reverse slope of the hill. Dirt and rocks rained down on him, but he hardly noticed.
Johnson was firing his S.A.W. on cyclic. Adams pegged a target with a 40mm launched grenade. Miller threw an incendiary grenade at the advancing enemy. Antonelli ceased fire to the rear and brought his machine gun around to bring more fire to bear on the front, leaving Chavez to guard the rear alone.
Arleigh sighed. 'Jackass. You've got a job to do. Don't freeze up now.' He flicked his M4A1 over to full automatic and was about to drop the radio handset when a noise came back over it. It was Captain Surai
"That sucked." Surai grunted. Gunfire and shouting accompanied the radio transmission. To Arleigh, it sounded as bad over a radio as the firefight around him sounded.
"Alpha Six, do you copy? Over."
"Five-One, roger that. Just got a little bump to the head. Read you Lima- Charlie. Over."
Arleigh fired a 10-round burst into the advancing enemies before responding. "Good for you. How's the weather over your way?"
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