Disclosure
by Chaoseternus

The Truth Is Out At Last, Are You Ready For It?

Thirty

“"Fall back! Fall back!”"

Rico cursed, his legs pounding the ground, desperately glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, watching desperately for an attack from behind as he tried desperately to obey the barked orders over the radio and fall back into the base itself.

Beside him, a female stretcher bearer vanished, not even having time to scream as bullets tore down from above and tossed her and the soldier she was trying desperately to carry to safety across the ground, where they laid, unmoving, shattered, bloody and broken.

Rico's eyes screamed his pain and terror, but he resisted the urge to fire his rifle uselessly at the cobra gunships that had torn their battleline apart, and instead his mouth set into a grim line, he ran, faster, all the time ignoring the bloody and occasionally screaming bodies of his friends, his comrades as they littered the ground around him.

“"Good, you made it” "Carl gasped, his normally sparkling uniform as tattered and torn as any other, the insignia of an intelligence officer drooping from his shoulder, now held by one last thread, just, Rico noted, like the rest of the operation, hanging on by a single thread. A thread which, like the Sword of Damocles could break at any time.

Groaning, his calves screaming the agony of the torture they had just been forced through, Rico dropped down next to his friend, his rifle back in his hands and pointing towards the enemy over the fragile cover of a collapsed and smouldering tent.

“"last one it looks like"” Rico grimly noted, his eyes wondering over the no-mans land between the final line of trenches and the base itself, the shattered forms strewn across it already attracting the attentions of the numerous predators that roamed the savannah. He could see their watchful eyes in the skies above and feel them across the far distant plans, but none dared approach, they all knew better.

Scattered sounds of fighting now sounded across the plains, not the full blown battle that had shattered the skies with its almighty racket mere minutes before. Rico looked, and then gazed upwards, sending a prayer to any god that might be willing to look after their fallen this day.

"“They're cleaning up" Carl noted, almost sounding dispassionate, but the act was broken by the break at the end of his voice, "“that's an aid camp, about forty wounded soldiers in there, we couldn't get them away in time”"

“"And now,"” Rico noted angrily, hatefully, "“they're just food for those monsters”"

“W"ho is in command now?”" Rico asked, as he noticed the lack of activity, the lack of co-ordination over the radio nets

"“I don't know, I think Rasczak has bought it, the rest of the command chain is long gone"

“"Then I am assuming command of the mission”" Rico glanced grimly across the battlefield, “"signal fleet for an evac, we're leaving. Then, they can glass this fucking rock”"

“"Aye,”" Carl said wearily, “"I'll need to find a working distance radio”"


“"They're wise now”" Paxton noted, his glasses held firmly by his eyes as he gazed over the next of the Jaffa's small anti-air positions.

“"Maybe, but they are certainly more wary about abandoning their positions" Lucien noted, “"and we cant afford too many more casualties, we're down to fourty-three bodies as it is”"

“"We've killed ten batteries though”"" Paxton pointed out, “"just annoying, well, its damned annoying that the brillcream boys haven't figured it out yet”"

“"Bloody flyboys are often a little slow on the uptake"” Lucien noted, “"okay, we wont be drawing any attackers off this time, they're wise to that, and sniping each one off is too slow, especially when the bastards start to panic and fire off wildly, I'm afraid the terrain… they're dead centre of a two mile long field, we aren't going to outflank them fast enough, its got to be frontal assault”"

“"Okay,"” Paxton nodded, “"I'll warn the boys”"


“"Bright boy! Bright boy!”"

Heart heavy, the Supreme Allied Commander, France, walked out of his tent, placed the heavy duty sunglasses over his eyes, and found the city of Paris, smoke from numerous fires blackening the sky over the once proud and beautiful city.

He closed his eyes, cursing once more the necessity of the decision he had been forced to make, a decision that would make his name go down in infamy for as long as history existed.

He didn't want this, he wanted the city saved, liberated, brought back into the light, but he couldn't. Every soldier who died here was one less who could help retake the London Hellmouth, who could protect the vital but beleaguered aid convoys as they made their way into France, who could enforce order where there was none.

One less soldier who would return one day to their mothers, their fathers, their wives and their children.

One more letter for him to write when already, he had had to write hundreds, nearly a thousand.

Oh yes, he wanted Paris back, but he knew his duty and he didn't have the time, the ammunition, the personnel, the sheer luxury of bringing the city of lights back into the dawn.

His tool this day was a tactical device, some of the city at least would survive, but he was damned glad that satellite recon had confirmed that their were no significant naquadah sources registering within the city itself anymore.

A flash scorched his eyeballs, the brightness searing painful despite the heavy sunglasses, his closed eye lids. He waited five seconds, and watched as a searing ball of hellfire rose into the skies above the ruin that was once Paris.

He waited, and then came the unnatural wind, the result of the sudden superheating of air above the city and the gases subsequent expansion. It roared past him, and it seemed to him that it was screaming the cities fear and hatred at its desecration by the traitors, and its despair and fear at being destroyed by the one who was supposed to save it.

He noted wearily once, gazing across at a sudden much altered skyline, much of the city reduced to naught but rubble, the reached down swiftly, pulling his pistol from its holster.

He pulled back the safety, placed the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger and knew pain.

As he faded into blackness, he heard his faithful aide's voice, softly speaking.

“Sorry sir, but I know you too well, and I am the one who loads your guns”

With a mental curse, he knew he would leave to see the dawn once more.