The Siege
Chapter 15: Blindside
By JagdPanther
First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera tripped into a dumpster. "Son of a bitch!" he breathed. In the dark, he hadn't seen a piece of two-by-four lumber in the shadow and tripped over it. He stood back up and rubbed a sore spot on his shin that had met the outrigger on the bottom of the trash container. It's not like he didn't have anything else bothering him, though. He still had a gash on his arm and a stab wound to his leg to worry about. Both wounds were patched up with field dressings, but they hurt like hell. "Why me?" There was also the huge bruise on his shoulder from when a bullet shattered his flashlight sometime after they vacated the LP building.
"Make a little less noise over there, L-T," quipped Ryker over the Delta personal commo set from the next building back. He had the radio turned way down so it only transmitted a couple hundred meters to prevent anyone farther away than that from listening in. Arleigh was scouting ahead while the others waited. When he cleared it, they'd leapfrog forward and someone else would scout ahead. They'd been doing this for about forty minutes since they had abandoned their position in the field. They had already moved a block up from the canal and were picking their way in-between various buildings. Right now they were in an alleyway behind a row of small businesses.
"Shut up." The American Army officer checked his rifle barrel to make sure it hadn't been clogged with dirt when he fell. "Okay, let's go." Arleigh got stalked up to the corner of the building next to the dumpster and came to a halt. Dropping to a knee, he scanned the alley ahead, and deciding it was clear, checked around the corner into the small parking lot. He waited for a few minutes to see if anything or anyone was around the vehicles still in the parking lot. "All clear, move up," he radioed back before standing up and panning his rifle barrel over the parking lot a few more times.
"Affirmative." Sergeant, First Class Al Ryker motioned for the other three soldiers to follow as he made his way up to Rivera's position. They all covered different angles as they crept forward slowly and silently. Now it was Sergeant Adams' turn to scout forward for the group of Americans.
The Marine kept his M240 leveled as he moved forward towards the next waypoint along the team's route. Adams has been on an adrenaline high since the team left for the LP several hours before, but now with the lack of any action and the relative quietness of the alley, he was beginning to come down. He fought back the exhaustion that threatened to topple him over at any moment as he pressed on. Sergeant Adams stopped short of the next corner, got into a prone position, and crawled the remaining distance. The next corner is where the alley ended onto another primary road. Through the faint light, he was able to make out the edge of the canal to his left and a winding road to his right. He could hear some light gunfire coming from the station, a few more hundred meters away, but other than that, things were pretty calm. Adams rose to a knee and waved the group forward.
As they all came up to the corner, Arleigh held back Chavez, since it was his turn to go forward. "Okay, we're going across the street and into that building complex right there. Then it's about another 400 meters down another alley to the station. Along the alley, about 225 meters, is a small courtyard. We'll secure that and take a break. Maintain absolutely noise discipline." The Lieutenant tapped Chavez on the shoulder and sent him across the street while the other four covered him. Rivera aimed his rifle over the head of the kneeling Antonelli towards the main road while Ryker did the same over Adam's head.
Marine Lance Corporal Javier Chavez quietly moved towards the building front and came to a halt near the front door. He peered inside and saw nothing moving. First he tried the handle. No luck; it was locked. Chavez turned back and around and made the "no-go" hand signal. He got the "hold" symbol back. Covering Ryker, Chavez waited for the Delta Sergeant to cross the street. Ryker came to a knee in front of the door and took out a multi-tool. Within a few seconds, he had picked the lock and opened the door. Chavez swung to the left inside while Ryker went right. They cleared the room and motioned for the rest of the team to cross.
Once everyone was inside, Specialist, Fourth Class Antonelli closed the door and moved to the rear of the building with the team. It was his turn to scout forward. Everyone stacked up at the rear door of the main building. Another alley was on the other side of the door. Mario crept silently down the narrow alley. It was barely wide enough for a car, let alone the garbage trucks that were supposed to come down it to get the dumpsters in the alcove at the end of it.
Antonelli thought that he heard something up ahead. He dropped to his left and into a shadow. There was something moving near the garbage cans about 15 meters away. With so little light making its way in-between the buildings, he couldn't get a good focus on the movement, but there was definitely something there. His heart rate increased exponentially with each step. Slowly but surely he picked his way from shadow to shadow towards the cans. As he neared, whatever was making the noise stopped. The SpecFour gulped hard and took his cramped hand off of the rifle barrel to flex it. Creeping along, Mario continually shifted his sight up the alley to make sure nothing else was there and back to the garbage. When he was within a couple meters of the garbage, something small and gray pounced out from behind the garbage cans. Antonelli's heart almost leapt out of his chest. The cat jumped on top of a pallet leaning against the side of the building and stared at Antonelli. Mario let out a huge breath and wiped his brow as the cat jumped back down, deciding that the soldier wasn't harmful, and stalked away to find another place to eat. Waiting for his heart to settle itself back down, Antonelli held still and before he continued on his way.
Once he had arrived at the first intersection with another alleyway, he stopped and scanned for enemies. The team was lucky up until now, and continued to be. There were no enemies to be seen. Antonelli signaled "all clear" and waited for the team to arrive.
Ryker prepared to go next. He would go the final 100 meters to the courtyard. The big Sergeant, First Class glided forward, no sound coming from anywhere on or around him. It was quintessential Delta. It was getting noticeably brighter now around 0600 hours. Only a couple hundred meters from the station, it seemed that Arleigh had estimated a bit too much time for getting to the station. In the distance, he could hear short bursts of muffled gunfire and what he thought were tank engines idling. 'No, no way. They can't be at the station, can they?' Al Ryker stopped at a small door-sized gate set in the wall. It was open, the lock having never been reset when the occupants had fled the previous day. The rest of the team came up a few moments later.
Arleigh directed Ryker and Adams to go right as the he and the others would go left. The team slid through the open gate and fanned out. They checked every doorway, every window, and every stairwell. Going upstairs, they did the same. It seemed quiet enough. Rivera signaled for everyone to come to him. They all entered a small room that seemed to be a private office of some sort. Arleigh spoke low to everyone, "Okay, take five. I'm going to check in." Going back out into the second floor hall, he took the radio off of his back and set it up on the ledge. He typed in a frequency and activated the handset and spoke with a whisper. "Delta Five-One hailing Alpha Six. Over." There was no response at first. "Delta Five-One hailing Alpha Six. Over."
"Alpha here. Go ahead. Over."
"Alpha Six, we are about two hundred meters from the station in small building complex. We will come at you from the East, I repeat, come at you from your Echo. Alleyway opens onto Miyamura Drive at midpoint of station. Request you give me an update of the enemy positions along Miyamura so we can attempt to eliminate some before crossing the no-mans-land. Over."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Delta. Over."
"Uh, say again Alpha. Over." Arleigh was puzzled as he held the handset to his ear.
Surai came back with a sigh before repeating, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Delta. Over."
Arleigh keyed the com again. "Why not, Alpha? Just tell your guys not to shoot us. We'll figure out a way to get across the no-mans-land. Over."
"That's not it, Delta. We don't have anyone on the line anymore. The lower levels are completely overrun. They have armor ringing the station and we can't stick our heads up without being blown away by 35 mike-mike fire from those APCs. Over."
The handset almost fell from his hand. "Uh, Alpha, it just sounded like you said they overran the lower levels. Can you repeat? Over."
"That's affirmative, Five-One. They did. Over."
"Wow. Communications really are the first thing to break down. Hold on Alpha, I need to chat with Zama. Out." Angrily typing in a more general frequency, Arleigh pressed the talk button again. "Delta Five-One to Zama. Just when the hell were you planning on telling me that the station was overrun? I was going to walk into a death trap. Over."
"Five-One, we thought you knew. Over."
The Lieutenant set the handset on the ledge and looked up at the morning sky while he shook his head. "You have got to be kidding me, God. Really. This isn't funny any more." Picking up the handset and thumbing the button, he continued. "Right. Not a problem Zama," he said, feeling like he wanted to reach through the airwaves and strangle the radio operator sitting in a nice, comfy chair tens of kilometers away at a U.S. Army facility. "We'll figure something out. Delta Out." Returning to the local frequency, Arleigh called in, "Alpha Six. Did you monitor my conversation with Zama? Over."
"Roger that, Delta. I know, don't say it. How do you plan on getting in here? We know for sure that they have the first floor and probably have the lower levels, but gunfights are still going on down there, so there may be some resistance left. We think they've cleared most of the buildings around the station and are either inside or around the station. Over."
"No clue, Alpha. I'll radio you back when we get closer to the station. I want to survey what's out there. Delta Out." After he returned the radio to his back, the First Lieutenant dialed up the power on his Delta com and called, "Delta Five-One to Delta Five-Two. Over."
Anderson immediately came back over the line. "Delta Five-Two. Go."
"Five-Two, what the hell is going on there? Did the team take any casualties? Over."
"Unknown, Five-One. We were overrun a few hours ago down there. I've lost contact with Deltas Five-Five and Five-Eight, but they could be with the resistance in the basement. Rest of team okay. Continuing to guard against further incursions by the enemy up the stairwells. Where are you? Over."
'Shit. Five and Eight are Carlson and Stevens.' Arleigh swore and keyed the com again. "About two hundred meters from the station. We're moving up to survey what is around you, then we'll figure out how to get to you. Approaching from the Miyamura Drive side. Check in when arrive. Out." The Delta team leader hit the ledge with a closed fist and returned to the room where the rest of the guys were.
"Why do I even bother with this crap anymore? I should really just skip out on this job and get me something more sane." Arleigh paced around the room as the rest of the guys watched him.
"Um, is there something wrong, sir?" asked Ryker.
"Apparently," he began, "the communications broke down between us and the rest of the world over the past few hours. Apparently, the enemy overran the station's lower levels and Command failed to inform us. So we would've been walking right into the enemy if we had tried to get to the station."
Everyone sat in stunned silence.
Adams was the first to speak. "So, uh, I guess this means, um, that we'll be doing something else?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Arleigh leaned against the wall and took a sip from his canteen. "We're going to move up quietly, attempt to occupy a building across from the station. Captain Surai said the enemies probably vacated all of them and are around the station or in it. We'll survey the surroundings and figure out what to do from there. Armor is ringed around the station, too. That should be fun."
After a few minutes, the team packed up and moved out. They slinked down the alleyway. Arleigh ducked the team into a building that adjoined Miyamura Drive. By now Ryker was sure he heard the tank engines idling. As they made their way up, they cleared each room, making sure no enemies were left behind guarding anything or watching the station. They were lucky, and they found no one. Setting up in an inner room, the team held while Arleigh and Ryker crept to an outer room. Rivera fished a small mirror out of his sack and stuck it just above the splintered windowsill. Panning it around, he tried to see what was outside. There were three tanks and two APCs along Miyamura Drive. Both APCs were facing the station head on with their 35mm cannons pointing up. Towards the front of the station, one tank sat facing up the road to the northeast while another was sitting behind it, facing the other tank, while it idled. The third tank was parked alongside what was once the outer wall of the station. He noted that the wall was completely demolished, still smoking in some spots. A few groups of soldiers were sitting outside, smoking and eating. Some were around the APCs, but it appeared that most were along the wall of the station near the doors inside. The tank closest to Arleigh had its crew sitting on the tank, eating. One of the crewmembers was sleeping on the engine exhaust, probably to take advantage of the heat.
Arleigh pulled the mirror back down and waved Ryker over. The Delta Sergeant crawled over to his commanding officer and stuck his right ear near Rivera's mouth. Arleigh cupped his hand over Ryker's ear and whispered the locations of the enemies outside. After Ryker had surveyed the scene himself with the mirror, he handed it back to Rivera, shook his head, and shrugged as if to say, 'What do we do?'
Rivera just rolled his eyes. Cupping his hand over Ryker's ear again, he whispered. "Military motto. We wait." The two Delta Operators crawled as quietly as they possibly could back to the room where the other soldiers were waiting and sat up against the wall. Arleigh looked at his watch. It was just a past 0646 hours. He whispered to Ryker. "We're close enough, I think the radio will make it Surai." Taking the handset off of the radio, he clicked the button and breathed in, "Alpha Six, this is Delta Five-One. You there? Over."
Surai came back over the net in a few seconds. He had probably been waiting for the call. "Six here. Go ahead. Over."
"Six, we're across the road in a three story building, all brick, with a ladder to the roof on to right side as you face the front. Don't know exactly which building. Anyway, you've got three tanks and two APCs on the Miyamura Drive side. The APCs are facing the building, two tanks are up facing to the northeast on Yuki Street, covering the bend in Miyamura Drive, and a third tank is idle along the outer wall. I count maybe fifteen soldiers outside the building on this side. The rest are either inside or some may be in the tanks and APCs. I have no idea how we're going to cross this with only five guys. I think we're going to have to stay put until the armor support arrives. When will the armor get here, by the way? Over."
"Five-One, thanks for the SITREP. Armor is supposed to move out shortly, roughly around 0700. Zama will call in when they're moving. 3rd Marine's tanks and APCs are geared up, ready to go. Army 2/14th Cav is waiting for its 2 M1A1s; All M3 CFVs [Cavalry-Fighting-Vehicle] and 1st Brigade Strykers ready to go. Over."
Arleigh pondered that for a few moments before responding. "Roger that, Six. Let me know when they call in. I don't think I can get them from inside this building. When the attack starts, I'll check the outside again and see if I can get over there. Over."
"Five-One, you be damn careful. My guys have are on those stairwells like vice-grips. If you try to come up without identifying yourself, you'll be cut down in a hurry. Over."
"Uh, affirmative Six. I'll remember that. Waiting for that update. Five-One out." Arleigh sighed quietly and sat back while the others rested for a few moments. They heard a bit more muffled gunfire and not much more. They all made sure that their weapons were in working order so when they had to move, they wouldn't get caught with jammed rifles and machine guns.
As Arleigh waited for the call, he mulled over possible solutions to the problem of getting from here to the station and up to the defenders in the upper levels. The most basic and easiest solution was to, of course, just wait and wait and wait until the friendly armor finally arrived at the station and had either destroyed or driven off the enemy forces. That presented a few problems itself, though. The enemy might try to reoccupy the building that Arleigh and the others were in, and five guys against the remaining JSDF and terrorist forces wasn't a very good incentive to sit around.
The next solution was to wait for the armor attack to start, and then slip across the road and into the station while the enemies were reacting. It wasn't very far. Just across Miyamura Drive, over the rubble of the wall, and across the inner road to a building entrance. Once inside, though, they'd have to contend with whoever was left. Could be ten, twenty, a hundred, two hundred, even five hundred enemies, how could one know? Even if they made it inside without being noticed, they'd have to give themselves away when they identified themselves to the defenders in the stairwells above. Maybe it could work.
Arleigh mulled over some other solutions while waiting. There were, of course, the standard-issue completely insane solutions, but for the most part, he thought of ways to keep his guys alive and get them across to the station with the least resistance possible. The radio handset came alive in Arleigh's hand and he put it up to his ear. "Delta Five-One here. Go."
"Five-One, Alpha Six. Armor attack is kicking off. Army 2/14th Cav and 1st Stryker Brigade attacking across two bridges to north of station. 3rd Marines taking four bridges to west and southwest. Already engaging enemy forces. Resistance moderate. Making slight progress. Cav and 1st SB estimates three hours to reach station, Marines estimate two and a half hours. Code to kick off for attack was 'Climb Mount Niitaka.' Over."
Arleigh snickered lightly and smiled at the reference to the code that initiated the attacks on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. 'Way to go whoever thought of that one,' he thought. "Roger that, Six. We're holding for now. SITREP in forty minutes. Five-One out." Arleigh set the receiver down and gave everyone an update on what was happening. "Okay, we're just going to wait here for another thirty minutes. In about thirty minutes, Ryker, you and me are going to go mirror out the window again and see what's going on down there. If the conditions aren't right, we'll continue to wait. If they are pretty good, we're try and make a break across the road and into the station. Supposing we do make a break, I am going to need you all at 110%. Sprint as fast as you possibly can across to the station and into the first floor doors. Once we get inside, we get to the nearest stairwell, yell up and identify ourselves, and get upstairs. No shooting until they've spotted us while we're getting over there, and from the time we get inside to the time we're up with the rest of the defense, you don't stop firing at anything that moves."
So once again the team was waiting. The time ticked by slowly. There was nothing to do but watch the doorway with weapons raised. No one said anything. They just sipped at what was left of their water and guarded the entrance to the room. Once again, as was many times in the past 20-some hours, it was time for the U.S. Military motto. "Let's hurry up and wait."
Arleigh thought about the possibility that he had lost another two Deltas in the lower levels of the station. That would bring his KIA count to four on the mission; Morris and Williams were dead with the rest of LP Two and now Carlson and Stevens were probably dead in the basement. The Delta coms should've been powerful enough to reach the basement, and they weren't calling in or responding to calls. 'I didn't have a major casualty during the entire Delta op in Japan, and in less than 8 hours my team is 33% down in capacity.' Out of the original twelve, only eight Deltas were still combat-operational and fighting. Rivera and Ryker were with the team across Miyamura Drive. Smith was still on the roof with the remaining snipers interdicting the enemy movements on nearby roofs. Anderson and Jones were holding one of the northern stairwells in the station with some Marines. McMichael, Lewis, and Horner were moving around the building keeping the defenders organized and on their toes.
Of course, there were also Arleigh's friends. There was really no way to tell if anyone from Traffic was still alive inside the building across the street. Unless Surai, Anderson, or one of the other Deltas had seen Natsumi, Miyuki, Ken, Kachou, Yoriko, or Aoi, he wouldn't find out how they were until he got himself over there. 'Natsumi. Where are you? Are you all right?' He sat staring up at the ceiling waiting for the minutes to slip by. 'God I hope she's okay. I hope they're all okay. I should be most worried about Yoriko and Aoi. They were in the basement. If they got overrun, then there's no telling what the enemy will do. Hopefully they have some compassion for two unarmed women.' Arleigh remembered what the outside of the station looked like through the mirror. 'Doubtful.'
When the time came, Arleigh and Ryker slipped out of the room and to the outer room they had used before. Again Arleigh took out the small mirror and tried to see what was down on the street below. In the distance, they could hear the blasts of 120mm cannons on the American M1A1s and Japanese Type-90s and ratcheting of 25mm and 35mm chain guns on the U.S. and JSDF APCs. In between, Arleigh could even hear some explosions of the smaller 105mm cannons on a few specially equipped American Stryker wheeled-armored vehicles. The 105 and 120 cannons made distinctly different sounds, at least to a military officer like Rivera. The banging of .50-Cal machine guns was all over the place, signaling a large amount of infantry were involved in the battle. Over the din, he was able to pick out some lighter machine guns pecking away.
As he scanned Miyamura Drive below, the First Lieutenant was astonished to find that nothing had changed. The tanks and APCs were all still where they had been earlier. 'Um, do these people just not care that there is a two-pronged American armor attack headed this way?' he thought. All that seemed to be different was that now the JSDF soldier who had been sleeping on top of the idle tank below was up and drinking what looked like coffee. 'You're kidding me. This redefines 'laid back.''
Ryker had the same reaction when he scanned with the mirror, too. 'Okay. That's different.' He smirked and handed the mirror back to his commanding officer. Again, as before, he gave Rivera a shrug as if to say, "What do we do?"
This time Rivera responded by pulling his pistol silencer from his belt and screwed it onto his Beretta M9 pistol's muzzle. He crept over to Ryker and said, "Feeling lucky, Al?"
Sergeant Youji Sasaka tried to shake the sleepiness from his head. He hadn't had a good sleep in a week. Youji had managed to catch a few winks on top of the tank earlier. The exhaust vents were still warm and they kept him from being cold in the early morning air over the Ward. While he leaned against the side of the Type-90 in which he was the driver, the Sergeant drank some coffee that his fellow crewmembers had made while he was asleep. It was a little on the lukewarm side, but it still tasted pretty good, given the crappy coffee that they put in the standard rations in the JSDF. 'They probably got this out of the break room inside this station,' he rationalized. 'No military coffee tastes this, well, not overly good.' He coughed when he choked on some coffee, trying to breathe and drink at the same time. Up ahead he saw the other two tanks in his platoon guarding the portion of Miyamura Drive that slanted up and to the northeast, away from the station. He wondered how the main line of defense was doing near the Sumida River while the Americans attacked. Pretty soon he would get the word to mount up and move out to help defend, probably. Hopefully by then the troops inside would have what they needed and have it on the way to the Colonel.
Setting his coffee cup down on the tank, he stretched his arms, reaching for the sky and shrugging up. As he rolled his wrists around to increase circulation, a hand whipped in front of his face and clamped down on his mouth. Before his mind could even register alarm, a knife blade piercing his neck just below the right ear. He never felt a thing. The sharpened knife sliced through him and severed his spinal cord in an instant.
Rivera slowly dropped the Japanese soldier's body to the ground, making sure nothing made any noise. Behind him, Ryker scanned around with his M4A1 rifle, the suppressor attached, making sure no one was coming. Up above in the building, Adams and Chavez waited under cover for Ryker and Rivera to make contact. They had the team's two machine guns ready to rock and roll. Antonelli was covering the entrance to the room with one of the two rifles he was carrying. Adam's M4A1 was slung across Mario's back while the big Marine used the M240.
Arleigh crept around the rear of the tank while Ryker moved around the front. The few remaining sections of the wall and its rubble blocked the two Deltas from view by anyone on the inner road around the station. Evidently, no one was outside or around the APCs, so they didn't have to worry about them for now. First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera unholstered his silenced Beretta M9 pistol and brought it up. He peered over the rear of the tank towards the other side. The other three crewmembers of the tank were huddled around each other playing with cards. They were completely unaware of the two Americans behind and in front of their tank. Arleigh clicked his com once to make sure Ryker was in position. He got two clicks back. One more click from Rivera's radio told Ryker to open fire with his own silenced pistol.
Simultaneously, the two Deltas fired. Before the third crewmember even saw the others slump forward, two bullets entered his head from either side. He collapsed backwards onto some concrete rubble. The two Operators silently stalked over to the dead bodies and checked them for papers and maps of any kind. They gathered what they could and then brought up their M4A1 compact assault rifles. Arleigh was just about to signal Ryker to move over to the wall and take aim at the soldiers along the inner road when he glanced to his right and saw the two other tanks up the road. Then he looked back at the Type-90 behind him. 'Maybe I am crazy.'
He tapped Ryker on the shoulder and pointed to the tank's turret and then to the tanks up the road. Ryker gave him a, "No friggin' way" expression, his eyes growing to the size of baseballs and his jaw muscles bunching up. The Delta Sergeant grabbed Rivera by the arm and shook his head from side to side. He mouthed the words, "Let's move," but Rivera wasn't paying any attention. He was already moving back around to the other side of the tanks and climbing up onto it.
Rivera slung his rifle over his shoulder and lifted himself onto the rear of the battle tank. He waited for a few moments to make sure that even from his raised position, he was out of sight from the station. Al's hand landed on his ankle, causing him to turn back around on his chest and look at the Sergeant. Ryker was still furiously shaking his head from side to side. The Lieutenant just shrugged and crawled forward to the turret. Lifting his head up, Rivera looked around before hauling his body up on top of the turret. Arleigh grabbed the main hatch handle and pried the metal disc up. The hinges creaked a small bit, but it wasn't loud enough to alarm anyone nearby.
Down below, Ryker was a heartbeat away from a stroke. But he wasn't going to let his commander do something this dangerous and insane alone. The Sergeant, First Class was considered by his fellow Operators to be the most conservative and cautious of the team. Doing something like this would need to be verified by audio, video, and eyewitness for anyone to believe that it had happened. Al Ryker likewise slung his rifle over his back and climbed as quiet as he could up onto the turret next to his team leader, all the while glaring at Rivera. 'I am going to die in the very near future, aren't I?'
Arleigh swung his body around on the turret and slipped down into the dark interior of the commander's seat and then went deeper into the tank, sitting down in the gunner's seat. Ryker followed him down, taking a seat in the commander's position.
"Sir, what the hell! This is nuts! What are you going to do? We can't move! If we turn on the engine, they'll know right away something is up. Adams and Chavez don't know so we'll be sitting ducks without their cover. Once those guys find the dead crew, they'll know we're hostile and come up here and kill us! Damnit! Sir!" Ryker was fuming, but Rivera only responded by taking the team's only remaining flashlight off of Al's web gear. "Now what?"
"Shut up." Arleigh checked the indicators on the side of the main cannon and smiled. "Good, there is already a Sabot round loaded up." Searching around the compartment, he began cataloging all the controls he could figure out. After a minute, he found what he was looking for. "Okay, that wheel to my left shoulder is the manual traversing crank. The one in the center next to the gun on my side is the manual crank for elevating and depressing the gun. This here should be the manual optical sights." He tapped a small rifle-scope-like sight in front of him. "Let's do this."
"Whatever you say, sir." Al had already given up the ghost. There was no way he was talking the Lieutenant out of this. "What do you need me to do?"
Arleigh peered through the optical sight and got a look at the enemy Type-90s ahead. "Estimate range, 110 meters. Perfect ass shot on both. Taking out the closer one first." In the event of a mechanical malfunction, tanks of all makes and models were equipped with manual controls to traverse the turret around and elevate and depress the gun. Also, noise was a tank's worst enemy in an ambush. Sometimes tanks shut off their engines and the crew manually traverses the turret to track targets without giving their position away from their engine noise. There were also manual optical sights in case electronics were lost in battle. "Okay, I need five degrees right traverse. See if there are any controls to turn the tank on from the commander's seat. Once we fire, there is no sense in staying manual." The Delta slowly turned the crank wheel. Watching through the sights, Arleigh waited until the crosshairs were right on the closer Type-90. Arleigh stopped turning the wheel before grabbing the center crank and elevating the cannon slightly. He sat back and sighed while lifting up his Kevlar helmet and wiping his brow. "Might as well call this one in."
Keying his com, Arleigh spoke up. "Delta Five-One to all Delta Team members. Over." He waited for the remaining team members to check in, minus Ryker, of course, since he happened to be a part of the ridiculous stunt the officer was pulling at the moment. "Delta Five-One to all Delta Team members. There is about to be a tank battle outside. Please, if you would be so kind, tell everyone around to not shoot at the tank sitting next to the wall on Miyamura. It happens to be occupied by Ryker and myself. Thanks. Five-One out." Before any responses could come, Rivera turned off his com.
Sergeant, First Class Al Ryker just stared at the hull wall in the reflected light of the flashlight. "I cannot believe this is happening."
"Cry about it. Now keep looking." Arleigh motioned for the Sergeant to keep looking for certain controls that might be necessary shortly. Rechecking his aiming point, Arleigh leaned back and looked up at Ryker in the commander's seat above. "Ready to do this?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I found the ignition code for the diesel." Ryker looked down at his commanding officer with a glare that could kill. "Sir, with all due respect, I hate you." Al managed a smile and stuck his hand down to the officer. "But it's been a pleasure to serve with you." The two Deltas shook hands and nodded to each other.
"Fire in the hole." Arleigh triggered the cannon from the manual control stick to his front. A massive explosion rocked the tank back, sending the cannon recoiling back in an instant. A little under 110 meters away, the back of the Type-90 became a tremendous fireball. The 120mm round was actually just a casing for a 40mm tungsten-carbide-tipped dart. After leaving the cannon, the casing had dropped away and in a split second had pierced the more thinly armored rear of the Type-90. Lancing through the tank's ammo magazine, it detonated all the explosives inside. The resulting shockwave shook tank the Americans were in right down to the last nut and bolt. Several secondary explosions began blasting off as Arleigh yelled to Ryker, "Turn this damn thing on so I can get another round loaded up! Move it!"
Al Ryker punched in the in-turret ignition code for the tank. A low rumble filled the tank as it tried to turn over, and finally did. Lights began coming on inside the tank and sights lit up, as well as the aiming computers and other electronics. "Left traverse two degrees!" Arleigh grabbed the gun controls and twisted them to the right, swinging the turret left to meet the next target. "Sabot up!" yelled Ryker.
"Fire in the hole!" Arleigh triggered the cannon again and sent the round screaming away. It entered right the other Type-90 right where the turret met the chassis of the tank. In an action faster than any human could comprehend, the round sliced through the cannon barrel and detonated the high-explosive round in the breach. "Woohoo! Two down!"
Up above, Adams and Chavez were so taken by the shockwave that they were thrown back from the windows. They quickly regained their senses and rushed back to the windows. With the bi-pods already deployed, they dropped the machine guns on the windowsills and looked for targets. Several enemy soldiers were trying to recover from the explosion when fire from the S.A.W. and M240 began raining down around them. Chavez cut down a JSDF lieutenant, probably the leader of the armor units sitting just outside the wall.
Neither of them knew nor cared what had caused the explosion of the tank to the right until they saw the tank directly below lurch back and a huge tongue of flame spurt from the cannon muzzle. The sound wave alone of the cannon shook them to the bone. For a moment, they stopped firing. Down the street, the other Japanese tank exploded, sending flames up like geysers. The return fire from the Japanese on the inner road below brought them back into the fight. Adams focused on suppressing a group near a door while Chavez used the lighter S.A.W. to keep back a group of enemies trying to move their way out to the rogue tank. Adams looked back over his shoulder screamed to Antonelli, "Tell the Captain what's going on! The L-T and Ryker grabbed a tank! They're shooting at the other armor! Get some support from the station!"
Antonelli nodded and grabbed one of the radios by his feet. Ryker and Rivera had left them there while they was out on their little escapade. He keyed the com and yelled in over the machine gun noise behind him. "Alpha Six, Delta Five-One X-Ray! Over!"
"Alpha Six here. What the hell is going on, X-ray? Over."
"Sir! The Lieutenant and Sergeant Ryker commandeered a Japanese tank! They're engaging the other tanks outside! Request immediate overhead support from the building along Miyamura Drive! Over." Antonelli kept his rifle up with his other hand so he could continue covering the door in case any Japanese made it across the road and into the building to silence the two Marines manning the machine guns.
"Roger that! Ordering support!" Across the street in the bombed-out TOC, Surai dialed in another frequency and began ordering the two other platoons with working radios to provide support and pass the word. Luckily, one of the platoons happened to already be on the Miyamura Drive side. Troops began returning to the line if they weren't on a stairwell and firing down at the JSDF and terrorists now coming out of the building to try and take the rogue tank.
The enemy was being forced down with fire from across the road and then had incoming from directly above them top it all off, so to speak. They were caught, and all they could do was take cover or make a break to get back inside the building. It was a death trap either way.
Sergeant Adams kept his fire constant on the enemy below. He noticed that the rogue tank that Arleigh and Ryker were in was traversing its turret around 180 degrees. It was traversing to the right and around so it wouldn't hit the wall sections still up. It was about 35 degrees around when the Japanese APCs finally began to react. They both depressed their 35mm auto-cannons and traversed their turrets to the right to take aim at the rogue tank. Normally, the 35mm rounds wouldn't be much of a worry to the heavily armored Type-90, but given the extremely short range and the fact that the more thinly armored rear was exposed in full view, it was a huge worry.
Inside the tank, Rivera frantically spun the traverse control stick hoping that they would make it around in time to get a shot off at the APCs. The APCs only had to traverse 90 degrees, though, as compared to the over 100 degrees that Arleigh still had to go. They quickly took aim, only having to move 90 degrees. Both APCs were about to opens fire when several 40mm grenades impacted on their turrets. The 40mm grenades could never have pierced their armor, but they served a different purpose in this case.
Above, some Army and Marine grenadiers cheered. They had dropped their remaining 40mm grenades on the APCs to try and knock out their external aiming devices. The primary aiming cameras were completely obliterated by the grenades on both APCs. Inside, the crews quickly tried to switch over to manual sights. The APC closer to Arleigh and Al tried to fire, but the computer showed a cannon malfunction. One of the grenades had managed to crack the thinner barrel of the 35mm cannon. Swearing, the crew switched over to its anti-tank missiles, but the computer rejected that. They were too close to their target.
By that time, the two Deltas were almost completely traversed. Just a few more degrees to go, but the APC farther away had already switched to manual and was firing its cannon. The first rounds went too far above the tank, but that was because the APC was trying to gauge the height of the other armored vehicle beside it. Slowly, it depressed its cannon, bring the 35mm rounds closer and closer to the top of the Type-90.
"Fire in the hole!" Arleigh depressed the fire button while still traversing slightly. The Sabot round's charge exploded, thrusting the tank backwards, or, rather, forwards, given the orientation of the turret. Tungsten carbide met the first APC on the side above the second starboard firing port in the troop compartment. The dart pierced the armor and slashed through the troop compartment before exiting the other side, but the dart had so much momentum that it easily lanced through the second APC, entering through he left front side of the turret. Both APCs detonated in a massive twin explosion. What was rest of the wall along Miyamura came crumbling down to the foundation.
"Woohoo!" Arleigh whooped in joy as the two APCs continued to burn violently, 35mm rounds cooking off like string firecrackers. Ryker was feeling pretty good, too. 'Maybe I will live through this little stunt.' The sound of enemy bullets pinging off of the hull sent both of them hurtling back into reality, though. They still had to figure out a way to out. They could just traverse the turret another 90 degrees and engage the enemies with the coax machine gun along the main cannon, but the enemy was too close to have an effect. The turret couldn't compete with the movement of a human at only a couple tens of meters away.
"I'm going to use the fifty on top! Use the coax!" yelled Ryker as he popped the turret hatch up. The enemy bullets pinged off of the front armor of the tank as Al reached up and grabbed the spade-grip of the .50-Cal. He lunged up and grabbed the charging lever with his right hand and dropped down, using his weight to pull it back and chamber a new 12.7mm round in the breach. Firmly gripping both handles, Ryker jumped up on the seat and depressed the trigger. Rounds spewed forth at the enemy forces being shot at now from three sources. Ryker swept the gun back and forth over the enemies, trying to keep them at bay while the other two teams focused on individual targets. No matter how many other guns were firing, the sound and power of a .50-Cal was enough to keep anyone cowering.
Down below, Arleigh was adjusting to the picture the advanced thermal sights gave him. A short ways away, he saw that the troops were bunched up in different areas behind debris. While anyone else might not have been able to see them, he could with the sights. He flipped on his radio and began relaying positions back to Ryker and any Deltas in the building above. "Two guys with machine guns behind the damaged garage door propped against the wall!"
Ryker, above, replied over the com in a tense voice, "Acknowledged!" before swinging the heavy machine gun around and engaging the team. All he saw was a garage door resting against the wall, probably blown there by the force of the explosions that leveled the wall a few hours earlier. But not doubting the thermal sights, he opened fire. The heavy shells tore through the thin metal of the door and began exploding pieces of concrete on the side of the building. A body slumped out from behind the door and Al knew that he had hit his targets.
Arleigh traversed the turret while firing the coax gun continuously. In the thermal sight he noticed a pair of soldiers inside the building moving around near a window with a long cylindrical object. The heat given off by their touching of the object betrayed what it was. "Shit! RPG! One o'clock! Inside the wall, two windows down from the door!"
Ryker began blasting the wall with the .50-Cal near the window area. The rounds easily penetrated the wall and destroyed anything on the other side. Arleigh also added to the destruction with the 7.62mm fire from the coax machine gun. Slowly but surely, along with Adams, Chavez, and the defenders above, eliminated all of the defenders outside of the building.
"Let's get the hell out of here while we still can!" Arleigh yelled into the Delta radio. He hit Ryker's legs and repeated his call.
"Roger that! Yes, sir!" Al took his rifle off of his shoulder and then lifted himself out of the turret.
Arleigh quickly followed behind him, emerging from the hatch just in time to see another Japanese tank rounding the corner at the end of Miyamura Drive. He paled and almost fell off of the turret, but Ryker kept him balanced. The American Lieutenant unshouldered his own rifle and leapt down to the ground. His radio operator landed heavily beside him and the two took off running towards the building. They weren't more than twenty meters away when their rogue tank detonated, a Sabot round having gone through the side of the turret. "Keep running! Keep running!"
The two sprinted towards the station but stopped short of the door. Ryker went to the left and Arleigh the right. They were just about to sweep into the hallway when Arleigh's face blanched. "They're all still back in the building! Adams, Chavez, and Anton!" He looked back at the building across the street and saw that Adams and Chavez were gone. The enemy Type-90 was moving down the drive firing its coax gun into the building. Some American fire harmlessly ricocheted off of the armor as it moved closer and closer to the destroyed tank that Arleigh and Al had been in. "Damnit! No!"
Ryker punched the wall with the side of his fist. "We have to go! If we stay out here, they'll either overpower us at the door here or they'll flank around the building!" Just as Ryker finished, a JSDF Private ran out of the door towards the tank. He completely missed that Ryker and Rivera were flanking the door. They opened fire together and cut him down with rifle fire to the back. Enemy fire burst from the doorway, signaling that the enemy now knew that they were there. Probably the muzzle flashes gave it away. "Shit! It's already to late!" Ryker sprayed fire back down the hallway with his M4A1 as Arleigh looked back at the building. The Type-90 fired a high-explosive round point blank range into the building, collapsing a large portion of the upper floor.
Arleigh cursed and grabbed Ryker by the arm, pulling him along. He led Ryker in a mad dash for the tank. Along the way, Ryker slowed, reached down, and plucked a grenade from a dead JSDF soldier's web gear. Ryker caught back up, knowing that his earlier joy in still being alive was nowhere to be found now. The two reached the tank at the same time. Even without an exchange of words, the two knew exactly what they had to do. Arleigh climbed up on the rear portion while Al used the front tread as a step. They clambered up and onto the turret.
Ryker grabbed the hatch handle with both hands and lifted up with all his might. The metal disc flew up and almost sent Ryker tumbling back off the tank. Arleigh stuck his rifle barrel into the open hatch. A terrified Japanese Staff Sergeant looked straight up the barrel of Arleigh's suppressed M4A1. Without hesitation, the American pulled the trigger and sprayed the rest of the magazine into the tank commander. Beside him, Ryker pulled the pin from the grenade and chucked it into the hatch. Arleigh kicked the hatch down with his foot and the two Deltas jumped off the tank, landing in a dead run for the nearest cover. As they dove behind a pile of concrete that was once the wall, the grenade went off.
Inside the tank, the grenade instantly killed the gunner, who was already covered in the oozing blood of the tank commander. He was trying to shove the commander's body up and out when the grenade went off below him. The fragments rebounded around the compartment and set off the HEAT rounds in the ready magazine. A brilliant secondary explosion completely obliterated the tank, catapulting the turret through the air, where it landed on the wreckage of the two burning hulks of the APCs.
Arleigh yelled to Ryker, "Come on!" and the two took off back for the building to see where Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez were. They sped past the burning tank and into the alley beside the building. The front was completely demolished by the explosion. They burst through the side entrance and rushed for the stairwell, but it was collapsed. No way up. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!" Arleigh kicked the wall and tried to figure out a way around all the wreckage that the tank explosion had caused. Just then, three shadowy figures emerged from the smoke billowing around the second floor landing of the stairs. It looked like the one in the middle was trying to support at least one of the others.
"Hey! Lieutenant! We're up here!" Antonelli yelled down. "Sir! Adams and Chavez are hit! How do we get down?" The smoke curled around the Italian's face, obscuring it, but his yelling produced enough air force to blow some of it away.
Arleigh and Al looked up in astonishment. "How bad are they hit?" yelled Ryker.
"Don't listen to a damn word this idiot says! I am perfectly fine!" Adams yelled back, his M240 resting over his right shoulder.
"Bullshit! You can't support your own weight!" Anton retorted, trying to shift his own body underneath Adams' arm.
"Screw you! I'll do it myself! No Marine gets help from a freakin' Army puke." The grizzly Marine Sergeant shook his arm off of the Army Medic's back. Adams pulled the charging lever on the M240 and sneered at Antonelli. "I can do it." It was obvious that he was favoring his left leg. The uniform around the leg was torn and appeared to be soaked with blood.
"I'm okay, sir, I can still do my job!" That was Chavez. He held S.A.W.'s pistol grip limply in his left hand while he supported the bulk of the gun on his curled-up right arm. "Just a little shrapnel to my left arm. I can still walk." The Marine Lance Corporal stood up after leaning on the wall for support. "Marines don't ask for help from Army guys."
Army Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli just shook his head. "What the hell did I do to you two?"
"Shit. Hold on! We'll figure this out somehow." Arleigh looked around at the wreckage and located some things that were of use. "Give me a hand, Sergeant!" he called to Ryker. The two grabbed some pieces of floorboards that had collapsed from the floor above when the joists gave way. The stacked several on top of each other, and crawled up on top of the pile of debris, laying them diagonally up to the landing above. "Hurry up! Climb down! Wait, no, toss your gear down first!"
The three stranded soldiers dropped their weapons and packs down to the Deltas, who put everything to the side of the debris. Then they took turns slowly sliding down the boards to Arleigh and Al. "Come on! Hurry!" Once all three were down, they grabbed their packs and weapons and made their way to the door. "Okay, we got two choices, guys. Another building or the station," Arleigh peeked around the door frame and up and down the alley.
Without hesitation, all four Americans responded, "The station."
Adams spoke for the group. "I am not doing that crap again. That tank had its barrel almost right in the goddamn window! I don't care what anyone else does, I'm going back into that station where it's safe! You see them trying to blow that place up? Hell no!" Adams tried to hide his limp as he pushed past Rivera and started down the alley to Miyamura Drive. The firing was dying down around the station as the Japanese tried to regroup after the short but incredibly intense battle that cost them four tanks and two APCs. That was a serious blow to their defense. Sergeant Adams turned back around. "Well? Anyone else coming? Hmm? Lieutenant?"
Arleigh just rolled his eyes. "You know, under normal circumstances, this would constitute as insubordination, but I don't think anyone really gives a flying crap right now." The Lieutenant followed the Marine down the alley to the corner. Ryker, Antonelli, and Chavez were right behind with their weapons at the ready.
Peering around the corner in opposite directions, Adams and Rivera scanned for enemy presence. They weren't ready to come back around the corners yet, apparently. No one was there. "Okay, we have to hurry," said Arleigh. He grabbed the radio handset from his back, since the radio was now back in his possession. "Alpha Six this is Delta Five-One. We're attempting to get back into the station. Entering from that same place on Miyamura Drive. Make sure your guys down there know. Over."
"Copy that, Five-One. They already know. Hurry the hell up before the enemy retakes the street. Over."
"We know, acknowledged. Five-One out." He put the handset back on its holder and gave everyone the thumbs up. "Adams and Ryker stay to cover. Anton and Chavez on me. When we get to the station, we cover Adams and Ryker. Let's go!" Arleigh sprinted across the road with Antonelli and Chavez in tow. They took some light fire from either of the street, but nothing came close. Back at the building, Adams and Ryker laid down suppressive fire. Once across, Rivera poured fire into the doorway while Chavez and Antonelli put their own suppressive fire down. Ryker grabbed Adams' arm despite the Marine's protest and helped him limp across the street.
Everyone made it across safely. While everyone checked ammo, Rivera continued to fire random shots into the hall. "Okay, here's the plan: Kill anything that moves. When we get to the closest stairwell, stop shooting. Everyone understand?" He got four acknowledgements. "Good." Just before Arleigh entered the door, he looked at Chavez. "Javier, give me the S.A.W."
"What?" The Hispanic machine gunner gave the officer an incredulous look.
"Just do it." He tossed Chavez his M4A1 and ripped the S.A.W. from his hands. "Here." He took off his only remaining pouches of rifle magazines and handed them to Chavez, and in turn took the only belt-box of M249 ammo that was left. "I'm taking the lead in there and I want all the firepower I can get." He checked the gun. "Okay, 200 rounds in the box and about 180 rounds left in the gun. Let's ride!"
Ryker yelled "Hoo-ah!" just as Arleigh spun around the doorframe and opened fire. He was right behind the officer, who was firing the machine gun in bursts at shadows he saw down the hall. Ryker fired over his commander's head. The suppressed M4A1 wasn't as psychologically impacting as the S.A.W., but his rounds were far more accurate, taking out a few enemies stupid enough not to fire from cover. Behind him, Chavez helped Adams limp down the hall while Antonelli provided rear-guard for the team with one of the M4A1s he had, firing a few bursts back out the door to keep anyone out there at bay.
Arleigh advanced in a crouch, firing the M249. The roar of the gun was amplified by the close quarters of the hall, but that was the point. It was intimidating as well as deadly. A few bursts to the right sliced and diced a chair that a terrorist was using as cover. While moving forward, Arleigh was cycling the floor plans of the station through his mind. 'Stairwell to the left up here in a small side hallway. Yes, there it is! I can see the opening in the wall!' He fired until the belt was completely dry, spraying it back and forth across the hall. "I'm empty! Cover me!" Ryker and Chavez stood over him firing their rifles while Rivera quickly reloaded the last belt of ammo for the light machine gun.
"Stairwell! Eight meters! Left side in a hall!" Arleigh got back up and moving. His suppressive fire kept several enemies at bay who were trying to get clean shots from cover past the stair hall. The Lieutenant jumped up and ran the last few feet, skidding to a halt at the corner. "Cover me!" He spun on his heels and leaned out into the hallway at a very low level, spraying fire from the S.A.W. every which way. The panic shots of the three enemies in the hallway all went wide or above him as he cut them down mercilessly. "It's clear!" Arleigh spun back and motioned Adams and Chavez forward. "You two first! Go! Go!"
"No, sir! You first!" Adams retorted. He was on his good knee, firing the M240 down the hall. The medium machine gun chewed holes in the walls and floor, sending enemies fleeing for cover.
Arleigh grabbed the Sergeant by his web-gear. "No macho shit now, Sarge! Move your ass! That's a direct order!" Pulling hard, the Lieutenant got Adams to his feet before shoving him around the corner and down the hallway. "Go! And remember to identify yourself before going up!"
Adams wanted to stay, but felt it was better to follow the order at the moment. Chavez soon followed after Rivera took his M4A1 back. The two Marines shuffled down the hallway with their machine guns towards the stairwell.
Rivera brought up his M4A1 and shot a few rounds down the hallway. "Antonelli! You're next! Get going, SpecFour!" He fired another five-round burst. Ryker continued to provide covering fire as Antonelli fired one last burst back down the hall and took off around the corner, catching up to the Marines who were just getting to the stairs.
Adams stuck his head by the door and bellowed. "U.S! U.S! Don't shoot! We're Americans!"
Back came the response, "Marine motto!"
"Semper Fidelis! Always Faithful! Now let us up there without you shooting us, damnit!" Adams leaned heavily on the door. He looked up when a head popped down from the lip of the ceiling, which was the landing of the next level up.
"Good to see ya, Sarge!"
"Martin! Damnit! They didn't get you yet? Ooh-rah!" Adams smiled and limped to the stairs, Chavez and Antonelli close behind.
At the corner, Arleigh and Al made sure that the team was clear and moving upstairs. "Ryker! Let's move! You first!"
"No way, sir! You go!" To keep Rivera from responding, Ryker used his body to push Rivera away from the corner. "Go!" The return fire was becoming more and more intense. Ryker quickly reloaded. "Last mag! Hurry the hell up, sir!" Enemies were leapfrogging towards the hall.
Rivera wanted to protest, but he didn't, allowing the Sergeant, First Class to do as he wanted. Just as he began to run back down the hall, he heard Ryker yell in pain. First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera stopped dead in his tracks and looked back. Ryker was sliding down the wall, a blood streak being painted on it by a hole in Ryker's shoulder. More blood oozed from a hole in his left leg. "Al! No!" He ran back down the hall and grabbed Ryker's web gear.
The big Sergeant struggled to get up with Arleigh's help. "No! Go, damnit!" A team of enemies had flanked around the building and was coming down the hall the way the team had come. He had been hit in the back first, spun around, and hit in the leg while he was trying to slide back into the hall.
Arleigh fired his rifle on auto in one hand and dragged Ryker back with the other. Ryker was firing his rifle from his sitting position. Their rifles ran dry at the same time. Arleigh stooped down and grabbed Ryker by the leg and shoulder. With all the strength he had left, Rivera heaved up on Ryker and lifted him off the ground. He bent down even more and got Ryker on his own shoulder. "Hold on, Al!" Arleigh stood up and stumbled through the door a few meters behind him. Enemy fire reached out at them as Arleigh stepped up gingerly on the steps.
"Out of my goddamn way!" yelled a voice up above. Arleigh shifted his eyes up and saw Anderson, Jones, and Smith bounding down the stairs. Jones stopped by Rivera and helped lift Ryker, who was slipping from Rivera's grip. Anderson and Smith slid past Rivera and continued to the stairwell door. They flanked the door and began firing M4A1s at the enemies chasing the Delta Force personnel down the hall. After two magazines each, they got began falling back up the stairs. As a last measure, Sergeant, First Class David Smith grabbed two grenades from his web-gear, cooked them, and chucked them down the hallway. Both exploded and sent debris back through the door, but all enemy fire ceased from that hall.
Arleigh felt his knees beginning to give out as he came up the final step to the second floor. Before he could fall, Jones and Anderson took Ryker off of Rivera's back. Smith covered their retreat with some Marines and Army troopers while Rivera collected a few magazines of ammo from the troops with M4A1s.
Anderson and Jones took Ryker down the hall a short way and put him through a hole in the wall, which opened into one of the makeshift aid stations. Army Specialist, Fourth Class Ryan Ida immediately set to work stripping Ryker's gear off. "Give me some space! No, wait, Sergeant, please hold his wound while I patch his shoulder." He motioned to Jones. While Jones applied pressure to the wound in Ryker's leg, Ida wrapped a field dressing around Ryker's shoulder. "Hey, Sarge, you know you're really lucky. They're both in-and-out wounds." Ida patted Ryker on the shoulder and then moved down to the leg wound.
Ryker gritted his teeth in pain. "Lucky? Easy for you to say." The Delta Sergeant kept clutching the table to prevent from passing out. He shook his head while Ida used his last bandage to plug Ryker's leg wound. "Damnit."
Rivera and Smith poked their heads through the hole in the wall. "Wow, looks pretty bad in here. Mind if we come in?" quipped Dave Smith.
"Sure, come right ahead, Smitty," responded Ryker, managing to bark out the reply hoarsely. "The more D-Boys the merrier." The two other Deltas came into the aid station and stood next to the table Ryker was on. Al Ryker looked up at his commanding officer. "Sorry for screwing up, sir."
Arleigh just raised his eyebrows. "Huh? Sorry for what? You got shot. Oh well. It happens. No need to apologize. If you hadn't stayed, I would've been the one who got shot. So think of it as doing me a favor, Al."
"Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that, Riv." Ryker managed a faint smile. "Always ready to serve."
"Yup. That's what Delta is all about," remarked Anderson.
Arleigh smiled. "Yes, it sure is, Master Sergeant Anderson. It sure is." Turning to Smith, he said. "Now, Dave, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on the roof with the snipers."
"Oh, I conned Horner into doing it for me. I wanted to come down here for a change and get to see the light show you guys put on earlier." The Californian master sniper just smiled broadly.
"Yeah, that was pretty good, L-T," said Jones. His own bandaged wound was in plain view.
Anderson just sighed and smiled. "Always has to be big and flashy with you, Arleigh." Usually in Delta Force there was no use of ranks in common speech between Deltas. But the team respected Arleigh so much that they couldn't help but use it sometimes. Anderson was a crusty old Delta, though. He never followed that.
"Damn straight, Jake." Arleigh slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Stealing one of their tanks and nailing them in surprise. Blindside, baby, blindside. Hoo-ah!" Arleigh did a V-for-Victory sign with his left hand. "Okay, time to go explain myself to the Captain and command. Anyone up for that?"
"Hell no! I've been shot at enough today!" yelled Ryker. The Delta Sergeant sulked on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. "No friggin' way."
Arleigh looked at the other Deltas. "Anyone?" He got three negatives. "Traitors."
Across the room, Adams had been listening in on the conversation. "I'll go, sir!"
"Jesus! You take this Army/Marine rivalry way too seriously! Sit down and take a rest, Sarge! And get that leg looked at!" Arleigh shook his head. "Jarheads. All of them, I swear, are even more nuts that I am. And that's saying a lot."
Smith shook his head. "No way, no one is as crazy as you, L-T."
"Thanks, Dave. That wasn't meant to be reaffirmed." Arleigh smiled and shook his head. "All right, I'm going to go explain this mess. Occupy yourselves, boys." Rivera left the aid station and headed for the stairwell and the TOC. 'Blindsided. Hoo-ah!'
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