Author's Notes: I'm truly sorry for the long wait, but life has gotten the best of me lately. This chapter isn't too long but it does provide some very good suspense to the battle.
Remember, I'm open to all suggestions and thanks to all who reviewed!
Chapter 4 estimated release: Christmas 2004
The Klitchko War: Battle for New Chicago Chapter 3
Saunders stood patiently with his squadron outside the Chinooks, awaiting deployment. Even though the alarm had sounded for the troops to prepare for battle, the Klitchko army was still 150 miles away. Soon however, each troop's earpiece sounded and the general gave orders to the platoon leaders. Each platoon had been assigned a sector to guard but the troops weren't evenly spread out. Most of the soldiers were positioned around the eastern walls, while the last four were placed inside the city. Unlike Saunders, the platoon leaders weren't as bright. Confusion soon arose among them, many questioning the general's plan. However, just as quick as it had started, the chatter was silenced by the general as he gave a succinct reprimand to obey all orders.
Moments after receiving the commands, Timothy and the seventh ground were transported inside the city by light-armored artillery. As the small tanks began to slow, Saunders saw what was to be their makeshift base of operations. From the outside, it seemed as thought the rickety building were to fall apart any minute. The 2600 bombings had devastated the city and this "base of operations" seemed to be at the center of it. However, as the troops cautiously entered their humble abode, they noticed that the inside was a lot more intact than they had expected. "Alright gentlemen," Lieutenant Hope sighed as he placed a heavy bag of equipment on the floor to rest, "this used to be a shelter built by the government way back in the 2500s. No one knows about it except us so if we get pinned down, just come back here for shelter. When the Soviets come here, they'll rape us so bad that the sex will be consensual. Get your unmolested asses back here if you see any Klitchko scumbag and we'll deal with em in here. " The platoon let out a quiet snicker but everyone silently that if they were to lose the battle in New Chicago, this was the only place to go.
In a single file line, the soldiers were lead through a locked door and down a long set of stairs. Below, more security hindered the group. In order to be readmitted into the shelter, each soldier was required to enter his retina scan into the database. As Saunders awaited his turn, he noticed several protrusions out of the ground which looked like spikes. But before he could closely examine anything clearly, it was his turn to provide his retinal scan. He placed his chin on the stump and looked forward with his ashen eyes. The navy blue screen flashed once, temporarily blinding the young private. A beep signaled a successful scan and Timothy moved on into the next room. While he walked, Timothy tried to look for the protrusions again, but they had disappeared. Whatever the thing was, it must have been some kind of security measure. Without a second glance, he jogged through the blast door tunnels carrying a heavy load of equipment.
After ten minutes had past, the last of the soldiers passed through the titanium threshold and began to make themselves at home. Each soldier had the luxury of having a small 10x 10 foot room that they shared with another person. These small dormitories were placed in the back of the complex while the battle room was directly connected to the blast door tunnels. There were still 45 minutes left until preparation time so Saunders strolled out of his room and went to tour the rest of the complex. The whole structure was over 100 years old and the walls were stained with yellowish rust. However, the young private felt safe and at home within these sturdy walls. Turning aside from the walls, Saunders noticed the vast array of electronic equipment that was blanketed with dust. All of a sudden, the machines began to light up and emit beeping signals of acknowledgement.
Being of the Amish descent that migrated to the British Isles, Timothy was never exposed to the intricacies of electricity and advanced technology. Yet, he was now as curious as ever to how electricity worked. As an engineer went and sat down at the computers, Saunders interrupted him. "I'm sorry sir, but can you tell me what this is and how it works?" Saunders inquired.
"O, well this whole room is a communications beacon which routes any and all military chatter. So if the general is sending a message to his lieutenant, we can hear them. Also, if we're lucky enough, we can pick up enemy chatter as well, but that takes time to decode, not that you would know any of this," the engineer responded haughtily. Saunders didn't know any of it and he had barely understood what his comrade said but if the army could listen in on Klitchko, it would be an enormous asset. Timothy gazed at the instruments for another ten minutes and left for his room.
As Timothy was preparing for battle, the rest of the army outside of the walls was already stationed in a underground tunnel network. As the US continually battled terrorists near and abroad, strategists learned from the quick and aggressive methods that their opponents used. From the abandoned cities and battlegrounds, the armies were able to imitate and even improve the terrorist tunnel network. Soon, technology had allowed mobile digging devices that created a vast system within two hours. These effective transportation routes allowed soldiers to walk strait up in a single file line and provided safety as well as secrecy.
"Captain, where are you with that tracking satellite?" the general inquired.
"Sir, the Klitchko army is only 20 miles from the gates!" Captain Young exclaimed. The battle was drawing near.
"Wait… What the hell? Sir, they've completely disappeared from the satellite imagery!" All in instant, things had gone awry. Without their satellite scanning, the army was virtually blind.
"What in God's name is going on Young? This isn't the time to be joshin' around son!"
"Sir, I wasn't kidding. Our satellites have been disabled. Klitchko must have a scrambling device", Young explained as quickly as possible.
"Aww hell! You mean to tell me that son of a bitch has some fancy gadget to make him invisible? Dammit Young, you sure are givin' me some wonderful news!" The sarcastic General Simpson immediately spat out orders to setup scouts and beacons. The 11th Infantry hastily exited the tunnels and dispersed in all directions around the city.
Only being 20 miles away, the Klitchko could arrive within 20 minutes. The scouts had to get in position fast and plant the beacons. The general paced around the narrow halls of the main operation room in the elaborately built tunnel network. The tension and anticipation preoccupied him as he disregarded the damp smell and pieces of dirt that fell onto his broad shoulders. Within minutes however, the first scout reported in. "Sir, a beacon has been placed in Northeast Sector." The voice over his headset came like an answer to his prayers, but there were still three beacons left. Would they make it in time?
"Southeast Sector beacon is in place," another reassuring voice confirmed. After the second radio conformation, General Simpson asked for any signs of the enemy. The answer came in a dry and uneasy "no". Both the general and Captain Young grew anxious. There were still two more beacons that needed to be placed and time was running out.
"Southwest Sector beacon is in place!"
"Northwest Sector beacon is in place!" The two radio messages came in quick succession and removed a large burden from the commander's shoulders. However, they were just beginning. Immediately, the captain spotted enemy troops in the Southwest Sector. Simpson opened his holographic HUD and surveyed the situation. To his surprise, the general only saw a small amount of troops. The rest of the army was nowhere to be seen.
"Young where are the rest of them?" Not being able to account for 95 percent of his opposition was a dangerous situation to be in and the helpless general had no one else to turn to.
"Sir, they might have a tunnel system of their own, although it's highly unlikely. However, I don't suggest that we attack. Klitchko is a smart man and this could be a trap."
"That is true Captain, but if he is that smart, he knows we would never fall for a trap like that," the general responded cleverly, "Attack would be too dangerous, but I believe that we can fish them out with a deadlier weapon than guns." Both men understood each other. The captain called in the air reserve.
"Air force squadron one, come in Air force squadron one."
"I'm here Captain," a mechanical voice answered.
"Drop full load at given destination, code Delta Alpha Victor India Delta."
"Copy that Captain. Response code Charlie Hotel Echo November." The general immediately saw three green circles on his holographic HUD moving rapidly to the enemy's location. As they flew past the US tunnels, soldiers could hear the incredible roars of the supersonic bombers. Like lions to their prey, these jets bounded toward their bombing site. Within two minutes, the planes had passed over the enemy location.
"What's your status Squadron One?" The captain's query came anxiously.
"The goods have been delivered sir!" Both the captain and Simpson breathed a sigh of relief as the enemy dots disappeared. However, the general knew that there were more troops hidden or on their way. A search and destroy operation was his only choice. Simpson whispered something to the captain and headed back to his chambers.
"Alright Lieutenants, the commander has ordered a Search and Destroy operation. We'll need to employ full force on this one since we don't' know where the Soviets could be," Captain Young radioed in to the others. Soon, the tunnels were evacuated and entirety of the army began to move around the city to the southwest corner via light artillery. As the transport vehicles moved, they created a storm of dust that virtually concealed them from enemy reconnaissance. The "Wolf Pack" as the formation was called, rumbled along the barren land with great speed and power. The trip around the city took no longer than 20 minutes but the apprehensions of the enemies popping up at any instant made the trip seem like an eternity.
At last the army arrived near the previous enemy location. As if on cue, 100 doors opened and each soldier stepped out cautiously with their rifles at the ready. Yet, there were no signs of the Klitchkos except for the left over supplies and dead bodies from the bombing a few minutes before. With a wave of a hand, the soldiers advanced as a single unit, their feet touching the dirt at exactly the same time that each other soldier placed their foot. Suddenly, Young ordered the group to halt; the air was still drenched with a foreboding silence. The army started again and marched with a keener alertness.
Within 30 meters from the closest body, Captain Young halted again. His piercing eyes combed the area for anything strange. If he led the whole army into a trap, the battle would be over. As his amber pupils scanned past a dead body, he noticed movement. The charred body 100 meters away had moved its stomach! They were still alive!
"Fire upon the dead bodies!" Young screamed. At that moment, the ground just in front of the vanguard collapsed and 30 Soviet soldiers sprang up, all armed with parasite rifles. The front line, being horribly surprised, stumbled backwards and failed to shoot in time. They were immediately brought down by the parasite rifles. Others just behind them saw the horrifying seen as the parasites fired by the Klitchko ate away at the flesh, leaving only blood and torn tissue. Still, there were too many soldiers and only 30 Klitchko resistance fighters. They were soon taken out along with the "dead" bodies. Before taking care of the wounded, Young made a cursory search of the environs to make sure that everything was safe. He then rushed to the nearest casualty and assessed the situation.
The initial confrontation seemed to have been over but the task of hauling off the dead was a grievous one. Parasitic bullets killed their target slowly and painfully, knawing away at the skin and bones. Some who were shot hand not died instantly but were crying out in pain. With a whole lower body missing however, there was nothing the medics could do at the moment. The sight of such a bloody mess left many warriors disheartened and uneager to fight. Eager or not, the soldiers had to fight once again as they saw a storm of dust moving rapidly towards them.
"Alright men, I want you to stick near the walls and if things get too rough, retreat back to the city!" Every man heard the orders of their captain through their earpiece. With the wave of a hand, the soldiers charged toward the Klitchko army all the while keeping near the city. The air was hot and the rotten stench of their fallen comrades permeated through the ranks. Yet, the soldiers rushed on like a wave crashing towards the shoreline.
Behind the ranks of the soldiers, the first shots of battle were fired as a salvo of concentrated plasma arched through the air. Three seconds later, the opposing army exploded with a radiance of bright orange. The Klitchko however, did not even flinch as the plasma shells flew over their heads and incinerated anyone behind them. Each Soviet soldier concentrated on the enemy ahead as they jogged and trampled past dead comrades. There would be a time to lament, but that time was not now. With each wave of plasma fire, the Klitchko moved closer and closer to their enemy.
Only a few thousand yards away, Captain Young was leading his army toward the Klitchko forces. Some soldiers were already shell-shocked and dazed while others were battle fatigued. Riding on an artillery cannon, Captain Young knew the disheartened warriors below him would be hard to lead. The challenge that rose before him could mean the difference between liberty and occupation. These thoughts plagued the captain's mind as both armies drew closer.
"Halt!" The captain shouted into the communicator after several more seconds of marching. The mass of beige armor slowed to a halt just before the city walls ended. "I want snipers on top of the walls and artillery cannons near the back. Keep firing those guns to keep them suppressed. The rest of you, take the sand bags from the transport vehicles and make a barrier. Make sure to stay near the walls." His orders were short and brief, but his troops understood. There could be no organized plan against the Klitchko.
Within five minutes, American troops were already in position, lying in wait for the enemy. Their demeanor was solemn and the only sounds of battle were the low rumbles of plasma as they streamed over the soldiers' heads. Even Captain Young, a usually enthusiastic commander, looked on without a word. What he saw made his stomach convulse. Each soldier's visage showed one of exhaustion and hopelessness as they waited in the scorching heat. Yet, the enemy drew closer with every passing second; there would be no time to worry about his troops.
"Sir, I've spotted the first of the Klitchko ranks, they are in range for sniper fire!" The sound of a soldier broke Young's concentration.
"Fire at will Sergeant Johnson, target the riflemen first," Young's orders were clear and stoic, showing no signs of hesitation. He knew that if he were to lead a group of rag-tag soldiers, he would have to do so with decisiveness and speed. Soon after the captain gave the orders to shoot, a line of concentrated plasma streamed through the air, leaving behind a thin line of white smoke. These combined with the heavy artillery fire took down many enemy troops. However, the waves of plasma could not stop the determined Klitchko. They continued to hasten toward the allied armies with no signs of slowing or fear.