African Exclusion Zone
Screams, pain, burning flashes of heat…
Grinning manically, Rico didn't pause as he fired round after round into the now disorientated and shocked demons as thick black oily smoke writhed over the battlefield, accompanied by the screaming of the monsters in front of him.
The back of his mind noted a screeching whine, and with the desperate instincts of one who has a real desire to live, Rico dived back down into cover, eyes searching for the darting craft that would soon pass overhead, hoping that the 'close air support' wouldn't be as close as it had been for half of his scratch company, now dead, flash fried at the hands of their own air support.
He sighed, more then slightly relieved as he saw the warcraft release after passing overhead, the black dots dropping rapidly but straight right into the heart of the enemies battered formation.
He closed his eyes against the flash that was to come. There was a whoomph, and a flash of light just visible even through his eyelids, then screams, unholy, terrified and pained.
He opened his eyes, P-90 raised once more, laughing as before his eyes, the enemy learnt why napalm was so feared and hated.
"Damn, does that stuff make a nice barbeque," Carl commented at his side, pistol raised in one hand, the other, a useless, broken mass of bone.
"Yea," Rico shrugged, "but I think the meats far too scorched to eat. Might want to get some milder stuff for the next one"
Carl just shook his head, "I sincerely hope there won't be a next time"
London, Sun Hill
Stepping over the shattered, bloody body of a Jaffa, Sergeant Ackland held her 'borrowed' pistol, tightly, grimly and asked herself, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing here.
She was a Policewoman for heavens sake, one of Sun Hills finest, she wasn't a soldier. She was an officer of the law, meant to keep the peace.
Keep the peace; that was the rub though wasn't it?
It was her duty to keep the peace, and to keep the people of this city safe.
Gunshots sounded around her, and she raised her pistol carefully, gazing around for the Jaffa. She heard it then, the distinct phupting sound of the staff fire, right from around the next corner. Shivering, she realised she had gotten ahead of the SWAT boys she was assisting.
That certainly rated a 'shit'.
On the other hand…
She glanced around, grimacing as she spotted the shattered body of a young solider, but smiling tightly as she noted he still had grenades on his belt. Swiftly glancing around, checking her six, she dived across, grabbing the small deadly green spheres from the body, carefully not looking at his face, and then dived back into cover, slowly edging towards the corner, the deadly eggs clutched firmly in her hands.
The sound of gun fire intensified around her, a handful of rounds slamming into the old red brick of what looked to be an abandoned Victorian church far too close for comfort. Judging by the stinging across her face, she had been hit by shards of brickwork again.
It was annoying, but not so annoying as the bastards that had brought a firefight into the middle of her city, thank you very much.
Smiling tightly, she pulled the pins from two grenades, then breathed deeply, forcing oxygen into her lungs. She was going to have to run and whilst she was still fit, it wasn't as easy anymore as it used to be. She was after all, the longest serving officer at the station and that brought a certain power, a certain dignity and definitely a certain amount of aging.
Taking one last deep breath, she reached around, swiftly tossing both eggs around the corner, and then, in one swift, experienced move, began a mad dash away, along the line of the building.
The sounds of the explosions distracted her, just for a moment, but it was enough, her feet slipping across a pool of blood, sending her spinning, uncontrolled into the ground. Groaning, bones aching, reminding her all to clearly of the onset of arthritis, she rose back to her feet, glancing around, she really was getting to old for this.
Air Traffic Control, Gatwick
"Airlift Tango-Twenty-five, you are cleared to land on Charlie runway, wind westerly at 3-4 knots. Be advised, visibility is reduced due to smoke drifting across the runway. Welcome to London"
"Airlift Sierra-Sixteen, gate twelve is yours, taxi route bravo"
"Airlift Sierra-one, you are cleared to depart, hope to see you again very soon"
"All aircraft, be advised, warbirds crossing the pattern"
"Copy your emergency Tango-twelve, deploying emergency vehicles now"
African Exclusion Zone
Rumbling sounds, heavy, pressing in heavy on his eardrums, that was new, but hey, if it was an armoured regiment deciding to join in the fun, he could certainly live with it.
The reinforcements and air support looked only to have bought then some extra time, but still, the air support had left, and he wasn't betting on a swift turn-around, not when they needed to return to Thundersdawn to rearm.
The reinforcements, well they were certainly doing the part and the extra ammo they had bought was certainly needed but they had started to drop and with the break afforded by the disappearance of the Lancers, the enemy had managed to regroup and to retake the initiative and this time, they were pissed off.
His people were dropping and fast, and he held little hope for them holding the line much longer.
Rico frowned suddenly, why was it so dark all of a sudden?
And why had the demons broke, retreating like the furies themselves were after them? It wasn't as if there was enough soldiery left to stop them taking the hellmouth after all.
And what in the hells name was that rumbling?
Rico glanced up, then his jaw dropped; sheer surprise and more then a little awe plastering itself across his face as the reason for the darkness, the retreat and the rumbling became clear to him.
There was a pulse, an impression of brilliant yellow and then screams.
Grinning, Rico grabbed a discarded pair of binoculars and gazed across at the retreating monsters as the Ha'taks guns began to spit death, blazing an area for the massive ship to land, joined swiftly by the darting forms of large numbers of small, ungainly looking fighters.
Thundersdawn Station, (Secondary) Command Centre, Briefing Room
Peters grimaced, wearily wishing she could grab a few more headache pills, a few more stims tabs, just something to keep her going until this crisis was over.
But she couldn't, the Doc had already told her quite firmly, No More.
It was annoying, she needed to be at the top of her game, but she certainly wasn't anymore. It was the End of Days for Earth and she was stuck here, away from the fight, desperately trying to scavenge up whatever assistance she could.
And she really needed to catch some shut-eye, but she couldn't, wouldn't, not until she knew the homeworld was safe.
Strange that, that it was always the homeworld to her, never home. But then, this station had been her home for many a year now.
Her desk pinged, and groaning, half in pain, half of sheer tiredness, she reached forward, tapping the sequence that would call the incoming message onto her screen.
She read it once, leaning swiftly forwards in her seat, and then read it again, slowly, more carefully.
Smiling tightly, the first smile she had allowed herself in the last few hours, she sat slowly back in her seat once more.
The African Hellmouth was theirs; the Free Jaffa had landed in force and were even now fortifying their location, just waiting, eagerly, vengefully for the coming counter-assault that the demons and their fanatic brethren were almost certain to send.
Casualty reports weren't in yet, and she knew nobody would be happy over those, not when two full regiments had deployed to the hellmouth and less then a hundred were estimate to be left alive.
There would certainly be an inquiry over that later, assuming of course there was a later.
Still, that was one hellmouth recaptured, the other was about to be swamped with reinforcements, both Free Jaffa and Russian Army and boy, would a lot of the 'Old Guard' blow their stacks at the thought of full Russian Regiments and Guard regiments at that landing on British soil.
As for Colorado, Peters shook her head; nobody really knew what was going on inside the mountain right now, though they were making slow progress regaining control, the forward teams hadn't been heard from in a while and the soldiery trying to recapture the mountain were finding many of them already dead.
She knew at least three teams had made it too the gateroom but if the nukes had been disarmed, well that was anybodies guess.
They weren't out of the woods yet, but at least they were beginning to see sunlight appearing through gaps in the trees.
