A/N:
harisraka165: Life ain't all fun and games, gotta have the boring bit, my good man. But I agree, I'm boring… I mean, it's getting boring.
gama71: Let's be honest. Any effort with international assets or is UN-led would go for peace. I'm not jumping straight for one, but there will definitely be one way later on.
I'll probably be posting once a week again and I'll try to keep to the schedule. Let's start!
Chapter 11: Panzer Battalion
Kenyan-South Sudanese Border
17:00 hrs
The route through the country started at the border, snaking Northwest through the nation. This "highway" cut through the South Sudanese's capital, Juba, before heading North to Rubkona. It really wasn't much more than a dirt road outside the large cities.
The vanguard of two Russian and two American armour pieces drove down the road passing the sand berm that marked the border. The entire column was made of groups of four tanks sandwiching a group of less armoured IFVs and APCs, which had their guns facing either side of the road. A reconnaissance group was in the lead group directly behind the vanguard of T72B3s and M1A1 MBTs. Formed of 2 M3A2 "Bradleys", 2 BRM-3K "Rys", and BMP-II "Sarath", these vehicles would directly support the armour.
Jack Ryan and his wingman crewed the M3A2s, scouring the landscape in front of the UN forces over the tops of the tanks. Two hours passed easily after the border, with Hutch's dumb banter.
" So Bossman, what do you think about our other friendlies?" Hutch's bellowing voice breached through the intercom.
Jack knew where this was going so he tried to keep it away from it. " They seem competent, I mean, I don't mind having the BMP-3's 100mm gun beside us."
"Lieutenant, you know I'm not talking bout the equipment. I'm talking bout the beauties."
[Goddamn it!]
" Yeah, I know. I had to smack you to stop gawking at the last rest stop. Can't you keep it in your pants?"
The gunner just ignored him and continued, " But didn't you notice the Russian babes? They're all 10s! The Mongolians weren't bad either, all Eurasian beauts."
Jack just raised his binoculars and continued to scan the horizon.
Mike piped in next, " The Chinese and Japanese were also pretty cute."
[Damn, not Mike as well.]
Hutch jumped right onto the comment, " Have you seen the knockers on the petite Jap? And the tall black-haired medic? Oh, Baby. What I would give to serve alongside them."
Jack already pictured the man gesturing his hands at his chest inside the turret. Movement in the brush at the next turn in the road ahead caught his attention. Ignoring his crew, he swapped to the command radio channel with the M1A1s in front in preparation for any contacts. A fluttering of green camo fatigues and a dark green conical shape pointed at him gave it away.
" CONTACT RPG DIRECT FRONT, WITHIN 50 METRES!"
He instantly ducked into the turret while activating the command override of the Bradley, firing the coaxial M240C at the same instance of the RPG-7's rocket lit off. The tracers flashed into the brush as the tandem HEAT rocket impacted the lead T-72B3's frontal turret armour, only detonating the ERA piece on the turret, leaving it intact. The explosion halted the tank, the crew disoriented by the anti-tank rocket, causing the M1A1 directly behind to come to a halt to its side. The other pair of T-72B3 and M1A1 angled their armour immediately to the origin of the RPG and came to a stop as well. The entire line of vehicles halted hard, with a couple of rear ends further down the line.
A lot more green started shifting in the mass of light brown thicket that surrounded the road ahead. AK fire and more RPGs began flashing through the branches, whizzing over the vehicles and striking the front armour plating on the MBTs.
The four commander's of the tanks let loose with their M2HB and NSVT, the 12.7mm rounds cutting through the brush, flesh, and bone as blood splatters popped off into the air. The coaxial 7.62mm guns and recon IFV's various autocannons also lit off, joining the 12.7mm in killing the offending infantry. As the bursts stopped, an eerie silence filled the area, only the groans of wounded or the death throes of the dying could be heard. These noises were punctuated only by engine noises as IFVs caught up with the halted vanguard. These M2A2 Bradleys, LAV 6.0s, and BMP-2s pulled up alongside the reconnaissance vehicles before the infantry disembarked to clear the area.
Jack returned the turret control to Hutch as he scanned the area with his thermals, noting the cooling bodies of the dead and a weird hot blob in the far back, about 100 metres away.
" Holy shit, nice spotting, sir," Hutch broke the silence that deafened the vehicle.
" Yeah, thanks," Jack replied distractedly.
" Sooo, drinks whenever we can?" Hutch continued, trying to lessen the nerves of everyone.
Jack continued to stare at the blob, " if you can afford it with your pay,".
He then swapped to the command channel.
" Ghost 1-2, this is 2-3. Do you see the heat blob, bearing 349, about 100 metres?"
" Wait one," was his reply, followed by an electric whine of the MBT's turret.
Suddenly, a cloud of heat coughed out of the blob, the blob moving left to right. The turret shape of a soviet tank emerged as the blob turned towards the convoy. Switching out of thermals, he saw an honest to God T-72 advance from the trees.
Forgetting to change channels, Jack turned his head to the left, screaming as he did.
" RAISE THE TOW, T-72 TANK BEARING 349, 100 METRES!"
The whine of motors sounded as the box raised itself to firing position. Turning back to his optics, he repeated the information to command. Knowing overall UN command was listening, one of the M2A2's commanders spoke up.
" That one of ours?"
This took some time to process by command. During that time, guns all quickly trained onto the MBT, IFVs raising TOW-2s and readying Konkurs. Fingers laid on triggers as they waited for orders.
Jack then spoke up over the intercom, " Gunner, if he shoots, put him down."
He was replied with an, "Understood," from Hutch.
The single dust-covered, clearly unmaintained T-72 continued to close distance, somewhat cluelessly turning his turret back and forth. It finally settled onto an easily identifiable target, one of the vulnerable M2A2 Bradleys on the side, and rolled to a stop.
Jack watched as the 125mm gun rose and turned slowly to his left, laying onto the IFV. Jack could only imagine the poor man in the down-graded tank rapidly cranking a wheel to raise the gun, as the T-72 only had a manual vertical control. The M2A2 Bradley, seeing a massive cylinder pointed at their face and understanding what it was, reversed at full speed in panic. The Soviet gun fired, the APFSDS round flying well over the Bradley, carving its way through the air 10 meters above the turret.
It never survived to fire a second shot. 4 APFSDS rounds, 2 TOW-2 ATGMs, 2 Konkurs ATGMs, and 2 Bastion barrel launched ATGMs struck the tank. A separate TOW-2 and Konkurs whiplashed and hit the ground.
2 sabot rounds entered through the tank's upper glacis plate, another entered the turret ring, and the last entered the lower glacis plate. The TOW-2s impacted the upper plate, joined by a Konkurs and Bastions, all detonated into the fighting compartment. The last Konkurs and a Bastion struck the turret without penetrating.
With this amount of munitions striking a single vehicle, it is unknown which weapon hit the ammo carousel, but the charges were lit off. The SPLA tank commander was cooked in his seat, his body incinerated into the fire plume that blew out the hatches. Another 11 seconds of burning and the ammunition load exploded as the pressure built up too quickly, the turret flew up in a fireball before crashing heavily beside the hull.
A " tank destroyed" echoed over the net in 2 different languages as this was reported up the line.
Hutch screamed out a "HELL YEAH" as the turret blew off the hull. Jack could only comment, " most expensive tank to kill."
There was no celebration as a spray of autocannon fire shook the troops from their happy thoughts as 23mm shells impacted multiple vehicles, sparking upon impact against armour. Mass cursing could be heard filling comms as commanders swore in their language. A single shot from a T-72B3 muted the gun. Ryans tracked the previously insanely bright tracers that struck his vehicle, spotting an upended double-barreled ZU-23-2 that had been wheeled into position. It's late, rather foolish operators now laid in pieces beside it in pools of their own blood, ripped apart by the HE-FRAG round.
After that bout of excitement, the convoy continued as the infantry mounted up and ATGMs were reloaded. It was noted that this attack had 87 enemies killed, a towed anti-aircraft gun and a tank destroyed, with no friendly casualties.
Now knowing that South Sudan was going to put up a fight, aerial surveillance and support quickly ramped up. Multiple American MQ-1B covered the lines with Russian Su-25s and escorting Canadian CF-18s providing CAS, all operating out of Rubkona airfields.
This came to a head when the South Sudanese air force took off from the capital in Juba in an attempt to defend their homeland. Two Mi-35 attack helicopters, four Mi-17V5 transport helicopters, as well as a single Aero L-39 light attack aircraft, approached the vanguard. These were easily picked on radar by the Russian TOR-M1-2U tracked SAMs at 15 kilometres and later on by the ZSU-23-4 Shilkas. The airforce was called in.
However, the CF-18s needed 20 minutes to arrive, while the enemy was only minutes away. The Tor fired a single missile at the L-39 at 7 kilometres, downing the South Sudanese pilot as he lined up for an attack run. All UN forces saw was the Tor system stopping at the side of the road and firing a missile in the blind.
The helicopters, however, were allowed to close to 5 kilometres before being engaged. The line stopped again as the Shilkas leveled their guns onto their targets. Once radar lock had been achieved, 23mm autocannon fire filled the air with steel, 8 barrels deafening everyone in a 20 metre radius around the two SPAAGs. Both Hinds and 2 of the Hips smashed into the lead wall, their fuselages crumpling from the sheer firepower slamming into them.
The remaining transports ducked in and accelerated. Passing the 5 kilometre mark, they entered the Shilkas' less effective engagement distance and into the destructive arms of the FIM-92 Stingers. Above multiple HMMWV, the MANPADs booster rockets ignited, the missiles streaking into the air. A couple of flares were fired off by the transports, but the under-maintained helicopters couldn't fire enough to save themselves before joining their brethren on the ground.
The UN infantry cheered as the fireballs fell from the sky, armoured personnel just annoyed as they were beside the Shilkas.
" Fucking racket," Hutch commented, picking at his right ear with his pinkie.
" Meh, the ringing will stop soon," Jack replied.
"Hopefully," he mumbled after.
As the convoy started moving forward, their air support finally arrived. The two CF-18s screeched low over the vehicles, Jack craning his head to track the American made fighters. The glint of the sleek fighters and roaring engines reassured the men and was a show of force against enemy aggression. More cheers from the mounted infantry which soon turned to silence.
Tracers filled the air once again, flashing upwards as they clawed at the aircraft.
" What the FUCK!" Ryans wrenched himself out of the turret to confirm his suspicions.
" THAT'S BLUE!" He exclaimed, as re-entering the vehicle.
" Garcia, get us turned around and down onto the shoulder full speed, we need to stop them!"
" Understood."
Garcia gunned the engine and ripped the Bradley around on a 180 right turn, before bounding parallel to the highway towards the autocannon fire. Friendly vehicles flicked by as they raced to stop the shooting.
Jack got onto the radio to report the friendly fire while he kept track of the fighters. The aircraft, to their credit, saw the incoming and broke off to leave the engagement area. But as they circled around to leave, a couple of the 25mm rounds clipped the left-wing on the slower one. The plane, now spewing white smoke from the damaged wing, spun into a barrel roll until the pilot was able to regain control and raced to leave. Missiles flew up, chasing at the retreating Canadians, and lost contact as a copious amount of flares were fired out of the fighters.
Jack finally spotted the offender. One of the Chinese Type 95 SPAAAs was stopped on their side of the road, still firing at the friendlies. Jack leapt into action.
" Driver, halt. Gunner, fire warning over their heads."
The recon vehicle slid to a halt just 15 metres in front of Type 95 before putting a burst of 7.62 just over the roof of the Chinese. Jack had jumped from the turret as the M3 came to a stop. He waved his hands over his head, screaming " FRIENDLY, FRIENDLY!" frantically.
One of the Chinese Warrior command vehicles, seeing this confrontation, drove over from the road meeting Jack at the anti-aircraft weapons system. The Asian vehicle commander popped out of his hatch, noticeably pissed off as he had just been shot at. The man threw a punch at Jack, not understanding the message that he brought. Jack, in defence, deflected the punch and threw his own. The commander caught his fist and threw him over his back, causing the American to land heavily in the ground on his back. Before the Chinese soldier could follow him down to attack, he was stopped by a Major who had stepped out of the car. They communicated in rapid Mandarin before the vehicle commander stepped back. The officer then looked down at Jack, who was still on the ground.
The officer was a 5'7" Oriental man, about 6" shorter than Jack with a small faded horizontal scar just under his left eye. In perfect English, he asked, " Why did you shoot at us, Yankee?" His tone was not one of anger, but curiosity.
Jack, with his breath still knocked out of him, replied panting, " Frien-dly fire."
The officer then looked up into the sky at the specks that were the retreating fighters, then at the concerned faces of the M3 Bradley crew that were sitting on top of their vehicle, before stopping at the livid vehicle commander. Then he reached down, offering his hand to Jack.
Having caught his breath, he grasped the man's hand, surprised by the smaller man's strength as he helped him up.
" Thank you, Lieutenant," the Chinese officer said as he lifted, " it would seem that our anti-air regiment needs more training at shooting down planes."
As Jack brushed himself off, the Asian continued, " you are part of the vanguard, correct?"
Jack nodded.
" I will report this up to command, your actions as well as ours."
He saluted the American before turning and shouting at the Type 95 crew as he stepped back to his Warrior.
Jack walked back to his own crew. Mike piped up, "that's hopefully all the excitement for today."
The convoy was attacked another 17 times, with 238 SPLA men dead, 7 T-72s and an assortment of military equipment destroyed. UN casualties included 3 dead and 26 wounded.
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A/N: Hopefully this makes up for the last chapter. I'll probably be posting every Wednesday PST from now on. As to why my chapters are so short compared to others, I am more of a short story writer than a full-blown English knowledge writer. I only have the high school leveled English skill as I'm trained in Trades. Once again, keep the reviews coming and I'll see you in the next one.
