Hey everyone! Well, I hope ya'll are doing all right. I've alright myself, just been working round the clock. Currently writing this in a hospital room taking care of my Mom after she had back surgery. She's going to remain in the hospital for a while and then she's coming home but she'll be in a back brace for around six weeks. No leaving the house, no stooping, no bending, nothing strenuous or overly physical.
I suppose I'll have to put my job search on an indefinate postponement. Maybe I should take up writing instead...
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYON EIN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 51: Forlorn Hope
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Day 93
18 Floodrain, 1933
1245 hours
Record of Lieutenant Vasili Alexandr
Well, that's done it. We've had it. Rotarians launched a sneak attack on the station last night. Get several of the men including Mishka who was wounded trying to hold them off and also killed Alenkov who was shot trying to save Mishka. The kid's badly wounded but he still hangs on for dear life. Damn this war.
Forgive the blood on the page, I've got a wound on my arm and we're fresh out of sterile bandages. Docs are boiling old grease monkey rags to try and clean them. Some soldiers are accepting them simply because they'll keep their blood on the inside. Mechanics often joke a little grease never hurt no one. Well, I'm not in the mood. If the wound annoys me, I'll tear a piece off my shirt, boil it, and bind it.
Bombardment from the island has stopped. Aircraft flying in the sky but nowhere near us. They must think we've given up or been defeated. Commander Rasvitan offered me Alenkov's rank and position and, rather than him give it to some jackass who would see us all killed by tomorrow, I accepted, but I sure as hell didn't want it. Plenty of ways to earn a commission, I just don't like crawling over my dead friend's body to get it. He actually ripped the bars off Alenkov's coat and gave them to me.
Rasvitan died two hours ago, stuck his head out a window to look around and a sniper put him out of our misery.
I'm the only symbol of authority left. I've got men half my age asking me what I want them to do. I won't tell them I have no idea because that'll kill them as quick as a bullet. There has to be a way to alert the planes and maybe any ground forces already landed that the city still stands.
That sniper who killed the Commander, I think he's holed up in that old cathedral belltower over on the next block. Could probably use the sewers to come up underneath but between here to the sewer entrance is a few Rotarian soldiers and tanks, and between there and the church there's a few dozen more men and tanks.
If I don't do something now, we're all as good as dead. This'll likely be my last entry, either I will be victorious, or in my grave. Either way, Fancesca, I'm sorry. I should have listened to you when you said to head east to Syllia. I'll give you my word right here and now, If I make it out of this alive, I'm never leaving your side again.
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The bullet whizzed by close enough to stir Vasili's hair and struck the wall behind him. He adjusted the rifle in his hands and aimed where he was sure the bullet came from, saw the reflection of a scope and fired. He was rewarded by seeing an enemy sniper rise from his hiding place clutching his arm in pain along with the broken remains of his rifle. A machinegunner in the station saw him rise and turn to run and raked him with the weapon.
Vasili was close to the sewer entrance. The soldiers from the station were covering him well enough but the sheer volume of the enemy here was enough to make any sane man think twice. The soldiers with working bazookas had destroyed six tanks patrolling the area and snipers and machinegunners had been raking any enemy who showed his head.
Vasili had little doubt he would have made it to the sewer entrance sooner but he was unaccustomed to the added weight of the portable radio strapped to his back. The value of this piece of equipment meant he had to be extra careful not to get shot.
If he died, no one was coming for him, his allies would be overrun, and likely the troops just landing on the beach would pay the price for his failure.
(No pressure, right?)
Vasili advanced a little further along the path until he found what looked to be the sewer grate and used a nearby piece of metal to pry it off before lowering himself into the sewers. The feeling of sludge leaking into his worn boots was as unpleasant as the smell but he continued onwards, taking care of avoiding making too loud a noise as he slogged his way through the sewers. His rifle being next to useless in the confined space, he slung it over his shoulder in favor of his sidearm.
As he went further into the sewer, he stopped near a drain in the street and heard what sounded like tanks rolling by and soldiers talking loudly. Either the enemy was closer than he originally suspected, or he was deeper behind enemy lines that he'd thought. He felt his coat for the lighter on of the soldiers had pressed on him and, lighting it, went ot the wall to read the faded writing on the old bricks.
23 Mason St./ 33 Cathedral St.
"On the right path. The old cathedral is where Cathedral Street ends and splits into North and South Avenue. Six blocks to go."
Vasili pressed onward, his arm started to throb in pain but he suppressed it. He couldn't take the time to rebandage it and he didn't have any painkillers with him. He wouldn't have used them anyway because he needed to stay lucid. Painkillers would have fogged his mind and made him want to sleep.
Eventually, he reached a solid brick wall in front of him and gazed left and right and nodded at the correct signs. He felt the brocks on the wall and, to his delight, found a draft coming through.
"If this cathedral is like the one near home, there should be a reliquary kept beneath the cathedral itself." Vasili stopped himself momentarily to offer a quick prayer for forgiveness for breaking into a holy place. He then holstered his sidearm, unsheathed the hammer that he had grabbed from the mechanics workbench at the station before he left and swung at the weakened wall with all the strength he could muster.
He was rewarded by a shock as the hammer broke free from hsi grasp, went through the wall, and then a crumbling noise as a large six foot by six foot section of the wall fell forwards into the cathedral with a tremendous BANG!
He had little doubt he looked stupid, standing there with a look of 'How hard did I hit the damn wall?' plastered on his face. He brushed the old mason dust off his coat, stepped through the hole, and reached down to pick up his hammer. When he stood back up, he came face to face with a skeleton whose casket the falling wall had breached.
He stifled a yell and took an involuntary step backwards in shock and gazed around. There were caskets, tombs, and other things scattered all over the place. It was then Vasili realized he hadn't broken into a reliquary, he'd broken into a catacomb with a noise loud enough to have awakened the dead if such a thing were possible.
Apparently, his time in the sewers had accustomed him to a foul smell but he still noticed the smell of mildew and decay in the catacombs. Walking around a pillar, he found a body on the ground in what looked to have been a praying position. The corpse had a single hole to the back of the head and, to Vasili's horror, was dressed in the robes of a priest. The only things missing were the golden symbols of faith and other priestly items that priests wore when the worshiped.
(So. Even the priests are not off limits for Rotarian soldiers. He's been dead for a week, give or take. Doubtless the soldier who executed and looted him is long gone. I don't know last rites but rest in peace, for soon the enemy will be driven out of the city and we can bury you proper.)
He advanced further until he found a staircase going upwards with an open door at the top. His worn old boots made little to no sound as he went up each of the old stone steps. Drawing his sidearm, he eased up to the door and peeked around it and couldn't stop his jaw from dropping.
There was little boubt in his mind that once upon a time, this cathedral was probably the most beautiful building in the city. White-washed marble columns rose from the ground, once supporting the roof of the building. Likely when the sun first rose in the morning, the large stained glass window flooded the building with light.
Now, a section of the roof had collapsed into the main part of the building. Judging from the remains of the stone, it had once been a dome that once crowned the building. He noticed something around the base of the dome and was shocked to find what, to his eye, looked like gold. The dome had been dynamited on purpose so that the Rotarian looters could get to the gold that capped the dome. The explosion had also blown out the fifty or so stained glass windows in the building leaving only their frames. Several of the pillars had also been toppled and many of the once beautiful rosewood pews lay broken beneath them.
Vasili made his way around the dome and gazed up through the hole in the roof and saw that of the two towers that stood, one was broken in half and it was the other that would have made a proper sniper nest. Seeing the door that led to the tower was open, he started towards it carefully and slowly made his way to the stairs that led up into the tower.
Unlike the stairs from the catacombs below, these were made of a gold-leaf rosewood that, in the current condition of the building, were cracked in numerous places and indeed, part of the railing further up was broken. There were also holes in the stonework allowing the cold air to whistle through the tower and worse exposed that someone was climbing the tower. The tower face had the worst hole.
The entire face of the tower for about two flights of stairs was blown outwards revealing the iron and wood skeleton of the tower. All someone on the ground had to do was look up and they would have seen Vasili climbing the stairs and drop a couple of mortar shells on his head. He paused just before the large hole and gazed down as he heard the rumbling of tank treads and gazing down, saw an entire armored formation of roughly sixty tanks ranging from light to heavy roll by followed closely by armored halftracks, trucks, and cars each loaded with Rotarian soldiers and carrying what looked to be, on first glance, a massive artillery piece of possibly 125mm to perhaps 155mm diameters.
To put it in perspective, Rotarian tanks mainly used 75mm or 88mm shells, which could pass through a window and blow a hole out the back of a structure and weaken the sides and front. The damage would be extensive but chances are the structure could still stand. A shell of 125mm or 155mm would hit the front of the building with the force of a wrecking ball, blow out the front, the sides and the back and would, without a doubt, bring the building down or at least make it so structurally unsafe that no one in their right mind would set foot in it.
He made it further up but stopped when he heard a creaking noise. Grimacing, Vasili clicked the safety on his sidearm off and crept up the stairs even slower. On the flight before the top, he stopped, seeing a strand of wire running from side to side, just a few millimeters over the step. It would never have been spotted by anyone who wasn't being observant. He glanced over to the left and right and spotted a satchel charge tucked under a load-bearing beam.
If he stepped on the trigger, the charge would detonate and send the tower crashing downwards with whoever was currently in it. Carefully, Vasili moved and managed to step over the charge and picked up a piece of glass and angled it to where he could glance at the plateform above him.
A rifle shot shot the glass out of his hand and made him curse as he nearly tripped the explosive as he recoiled.
"I had a feeling someone was coming into my lookout. I must say, you got pretty far for an old man Tellanian. Your approach was also impressive. I barely had a hint of you but once or twice. I was intrigued, so rather than wait for you to slip up and reveal yourself, I decided to wait for you to arrive so that I may meet my Tellanian equal face to face. You dodged my trap and that alone speaks volumes."
The voice broke into a sudden bout of coughing, drawing Vasili's attention to the planks under where he guessed the speaker was seated and was shocked to see blood slowly dripping from the gaps in the planks.
"You're wounded?"
"No. Not wounded. At least not by you. When the cathedral was destroyed, the soldiers in my group set about looting it. They sent me up here to watch and make sure no one interrupted them. Now, they are all dead. Heh, I don't suppose we would have guessed that looting a church as grand as this one was bad luck. There were fifteen of us. All of them succumbed to the war or by pure accident. I'm the last, I came up here to see if I could get another angle to attack at your position when something gave away my position and that damned anti-air gun opened fire on me."
The sound of a rifle dropping reached Vasili and he leapt up the steps and leveled his sidearm at the sniper who lay there with shrapnel wounds in his torso. Vasili was no doctor but it looked like he was bleeding to death internally. A slow and excruciating death. The sniper chuckled at him and relaxed against the banister.
"This is how it ends then, I suppose if I had any life left in me, I should try and kill you to save my comrades but... I've seen many men die in this war... Most of them less than quick and painless... Do what you came to do Tellanian... and may this war end before all nations lose more than their people..."
The sniper slumped to the floor and was still, his chest rose a few more times before it finally stopped. Vasili unfastened the radio from his back and unfolded the antenna and connected the transmitter and receiver. Once he got it set up, he spun the handle on the protable dynamo until he heard static through the earpiece and keyed the mic.
"Attention, any Tellanian or Syllian forces. This is Lieutenant Vasili Alexandr of the Tellanian 11th Army, currently in the city of Dovograd. If anyone is on this frequency, please respond."
There was still static on the line and Vasili repeated the transmission. Vasili began to fear that either his radio wasn't powerful enough or that he wasn't transmitting on the correct frequency when suddenly a burst came through that nearly deafened him. When his hearing cleared he heard someone on the other end speaking frantically.
"This is Radioman Harold Breeze of the RNV Rampant Lion. Lieutenant, you are transmitting on a naval frequency. Please repeat your name, unit number, and location." Vasili breathed a sigh or relief and replied quickly.
"Lieutenant Vasili Alexandr, Federal 11th Army, Dovograd."
"We are receiving you Lieutenant Alexandr. What's your current status?" Vasili gazed around the city and then keyed the radio.
"Severe. I'm alone in the south-eastern part of the city in the old cathedral. I have an clear view of most of the city but the rest of my troops are at the Dovograd Grand Rail Station near the outskirts. There are numerous Rotarian infantry, tanks, and artillery moving to positions to bombard and rush my soldier's position. We're nearly out of ammo, we have numerous wounded, no medical supplies, and no anti-tank rounds remaining. As the most senior officer still alive, I am officially requesting aerial support of any possible kind as well as naval bombardment of enemy targets if possible."
"Request acknowledged. What's the status of the city?"
"Dovograd's rubble. Very few buildings over six stories are still standing and of those, none are intact. The only strets and roads not chocked with rubble and debris are the roads the Rotarian forces have cleared to better maneuver around and closer to us."
"Copy. Alright, now. I need you to tell me just how many tanks can you see from your psoition. We need an estimate of heavy or medium type tanks, artillery, and any sort of anti-air batteries."
"Well, I just had a convoy move past me. I didn't see all of them but judging by the speed they must have had anywhere between sixty to eighty heavy and medium tanks, twice that of light tanks. Then they had eighty transport vehicles, armored halftracks, trucks, cars, vehicles of that sort, each fully loaded with between ten to fifty soldiers each, and each vehicle, even the tanks, were towing what looked to be either a 125mm or 155mm pack howitzer behind them. They also had self-propelled artillery vehicles mounting what I would guess to be 155mm guns."
There was a burst of colorful language from the radio as the report made it through.
"We've linked communications with the RNV Leviathan. Tell us what to look for and they'll start sending up aircraft. We've also notified the ground troops. The Tellanian forces are wheeling left to make their way to you."
"I copy. Alright, as I've said, I'm in the left tower of the large cathedral placed to the west side of the large avenue that goes almost all the way through the city. The train station where the rest of my men are is situated on a large terminus of rails. The station is also shaped like a large, fortified cross if seen from above."
"Copy that. Okay, your location and that of your force is now marked on our map of the area. Is is safe to assume that all other places are hostile?"
"That is affermative. There are no other allies or civilians in the city. Nothing but us and the enemy."
"Radio report send to Tellanian flagship, FNV Tokerev. They are readying a force of battleships, battlecruisers, and cruisers to begin naval bombardment of the hostile areas. Keep your head down but let us know how close to the mark we are. All carriers are prepping sorties for aerial observation, recon, and target destruction."
Vasili hunkered down in the tower, using his rifle to scan the avenue and the parts of the city that were visible and waited. He found himself checking his watch every five minutes until finally he heard echoes in the distance and the radio buzzed again.
"Incoming mail, keep your head down Lieutenant. The Federation ships are taking the first punch."
A loud whistling was the first clue that the radioman was telling the truth. Through his scope, Vasili could see Rotarian soldiers stop what they were doing, look up in curiousity and watched their expressions turn from confusion, to realization, to horror.
Shells ranging from 7 inch to 14 inch diameters began falling like a steel rain from the sky. Glowing red projectiles fell from the clouds hurtled towards the ground with an unbelievable speed. The first shells impacted burnt out buildings, shattering what few windows were left and bringing down entire walls and, in one notable instance, actually toppling a five story building which listed and fell down onto the front of the Rotarian armored column.
Men frantically ran in every direction trying to escape bith the incoming shells and the falling debris. Tank crews, unwilling to abandon their vehicles, either pressed onward, pulled back, went to one side or the other, and some even plowed through buildings to escape the deadly hail. Vasili watched with a mix of amazement and shock as rubble came down and flattened several light and medium tanks and half-buried three heavy tanks. He immediately got on the radio.
"I confirm all good hits! Repeat: all hits. Thank those gunner for me, they gave the enemy one hell of a headache."
"What do you mean?"
"You've got them bracketted perfectly! Ha, you guys dropped a five story building right on top of that armored column I reported. Those that couldn't get out of the way fast enough were either crushed by debris or hopelessly buried. The rubble has also obstructed the North Avenue. That means the enemy forces to the north of the station are now cut off and that the reinforcements will now have to go south, loop around the river, and come up at us from the south."
"So if the enemy means to take the station, they'll need to adopt a pincer maneuver to do so."
"Right, but that journey south will bring them out of the city and well into range of the navy guns. There is nothing but wide open plains south of the city. No cover whatsoever."
"Understood. We'll keep up the fire."
"What do you need me to do? Rejoin my troops or remain here?"
"Remain where you are. We need a lookout to make sure we aren't hitting our allies. Be aware, the Tellanian 5th Fast Assault Corps has broken from the main force and is making a beeline for Dovograd. Expect their arrival at the station by the end of the day, without obstructions or delays." Vasili sighed with relief and silently hoped that the troops at the station had heard that. He was shaken from his thoughts by a loud droning noise high overhead.
He risked gazing out from cover and upwards and his jaw dropped as he saw twin engine aircraft flying overhead. The emblem of the Rotarian Air Force bright against their dark paintjobs. He grabbed for the radio again.
"Heads up fleet! Twin engine Rotarian aircraft inbound! Repeat: hostile attack aircraft inbound to your position!"
"Fleet copies. Aircraft from Tellanian, Espan, and Anoziran carriers are going up for a CAP." Vasili suddenly gazed at the radio, noticing something off.
"What about the Syllian carrier?"
"They have their own seperate orders. The Syllian forces are on their own heading east for Schildhaven and for a mountain range in that area. Aircraft from the Leviathan are heading that way as well. If they're lucky, they'll accomplish their objective and we'll end the war sooner."
"What do you mean? What's going on?"
"Attention Lieutenant Alexandr, this is Admiral Dimitri Kopev of the FNV Kalypso. The information regarding the Syllian objective is classified and, as long as they're helping us reclaim our homeland, the Federal forces will respect their need for secrecy. Understood?"
"Understood Admiral, resuming my overwatch duties. Keep the bombardment up."
"That we'll do. Kopev out."
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(RNV Leviathan, Flight Deck)
"Lieutenant Voss, the only aircraft we have on board big enough to carry not only a pilot but also a passenger is the P-30-4N. I know you dislike twin engine aircraft that try and call themselves 'fighters' but this time we don't have a choice. You will have a five plane escort and will fly a patrol along the mountain range and look for any signs of griffons. If you see a spot, notify the ground forces and we'll head in and secure them." Voss sighed, having heard this before but then looked back at Josh.
"I still say my place is with the ground troops taking the location. There's too many things that can go wrong. I know griffonspeak. I know what to look for. I know Tivars and I know how to speak to him as an elder griffon. You don't know griffons as well as I do Captain. Say the wrong thing or say something in the wrong tone of voice and you will have an unreasonable fury of claws and feathers coming at you." Josh shook his head, having heard this for another time.
"Yes but, if you overlook the area, you will be quicker able to find the possible site of their roost. This is not for debate Lieutenant, understood?" Voss clenched his jaw but relented. He couldn't help Tivars or Werner's sister from the Leviathan's brig.
"Yes, sir." Josh nodded.
"Then get in the air. The Tellanian force is busy bombarding the enemy within Dovograd so they'll have focused their attention at the imminent battle. This gives us a window we can ill afford to have close on us. Now, if the situation arises that the ground forces cannot reach the roost, I authorize you to do whatever you think neccessary to ensure the protection and safety of the silver griffon and any friendies in the area." Voss nodded and closed the cockpit down on him and started the engines of his aircraft.
One way or another, he was finding that griffon. Above him, Dieter, Wolff, and the other members of his escort flew in a CAP, waiting for his takeoff. In the distance, the village of Cardis could be seen and past that Pine Mountain. He gave a glance to see Werner standing by both Josh and Anne as his engines spun up to full power.
He gave a thumbs up to the deck crew and after a moment, he was airborne. The escort closed in around him. He angled his nose in the direction of the mountain and hoped he could find what he was looking for.
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Alright everyone! The siege of Dovograd is almost over and now the allies know they have assets in the city. Vasili is calling in artillery support from the Navy, the Tellanian forces are making their way to their fellows, and now the Syllian forces, with three Rotarian defectors overhead, head towards Pine Mountain, the hopeful location of the only known silver griffon in existance.
Can they succeed?