Chapter 1: Everything Is FUBAR (Allied Defense of Tkacheva)
- March 2051, 0255 hours -
- Outside Tkacheva, Ukraine -
Three 2S19 mobile artillery maneuvered in line next to one other. Once parked, their guns pointed to the sky, made final adjustments, and opened fire. The artillery quickly found their rhythm and the steady boom, boom, boom, of the guns echoed through the area. Sergeant DuLaney made a note of them on his tac-pad which had a crude sketch of the artillery position.
"And that makes four total." He told the man next to him, Sergeant Owen.
"Yup, not to mention the other sites they have set up in the area," he grunted from behind his spotter glasses, "It's surprising Ivan still has this much hardware to throw around so late in the game."
"He's about to lose some hardware though." DuLaney said with a grin.
A chuckle, "True that," Owen checked his watch, "Alright, air assets should be in position, let's see if they're listening."
DuLaney switched his radio set on and made sure he was on the right frequency before trying to hail the nearby bomber group. Owen set his own radio to the frequency so he could listen in.
"Thunderclap, Thunderclap, this is Raider, how copy?"
"Raider this is Thunderclap 2-1, flight of two A-10s loaded with twelve AGM-65s and 3000 rounds between us, we are on station and ready to party." A female voice replied.
"Roger Thunderclap, standby for Nine Line."
"Raider, this is Thunderclap, solid copy, standing by."
DuLaney checked his notes before giving the information."Thunder clap, this is Raider, Nine Line follows, IP Shield. Heading: 090 Magnetic. Distance: 5 nautical miles. Target Elevation: 5-4-5 MSL. 4 2S19s in a clearing. Grid: 480238. Marked with laser. Friendlies West 1 mile. Danger Close. Egress South East. End Nine Line, over."
"IP inbound." Thunderclap said.
"Laser armed, call contact, over." DuLaney responded.
"Contact, Thunderclap 2-1 inbound."
"Roger, solid copy, continue. Over."
"Wings Level." Thunderclap called, letting DuLaney know she had leveled off her plane and was ready to fire.
"Cleared Hot." Owen could hear the smile in DuLaney's voice.
"Roger, Maverick away, Maverick away." Thunderclap 2-1 called, telling DuLaney that she had fired two AGM-65s.
Immediately after, Thunderclap 2-2, 2-1s wingman, came on the radio, "Dash Two, wings level."
"Roger," DuLaney said, "Dash Two cleared hot."
"Maverick away, Maverick away."
DuLaney and Owen made sure the noise canceling was on turned on their headsets, Owen made sure his tac-pad was pointed at the artillery site and recording.
They saw four missiles streak towards their targets and strike the artillery line, the 2S19s erupted simultaneously sending chunks of metal flying. The sound was immediately followed by the scream of the two Warthogs engines as they banked south out of the area.
"Thunderclap 2-1 egressing south east, standing by for BDA, over."
"Roger Thunderclap 2-1, stand by..." DuLaney looked at the four slags of metal and gave Owen a fierce grin, "BDA: 100 over 100, artillery position suppressed, good shooting Thunderclap, Raider out."
"You're goddamned right good shootin, stay safe out there Raider, Thunderclap out."
DuLaney placed the laser designator in his pack, "They never use the new shit anymore." he said.
"All the new planes were either shot down or used for CONUS operations," Owen pointed out. "A-10s are cheap."
"Yeah, I guess." DuLaney said as he looked back at the burning artillery.
"Is it weird that I have a rager right now?" DuLaney asked.
"Nope, bombing runs have that effect on people." Owen said.
"True that," DuLaney said wistfully, "shoulda stayed a TACP."
Owen snorted, "We would have dragged you from the Air Force kicking and screaming."
DuLaney chuckled, "Yeah, that's true."
With that, Owen and DuLaney packed up their gear and loaded it into the battered ISV they had been driving through Ukraine in.
"I wonder where they'll send us next." Owen wondered out loud as he secured his weapon to a jury rigged rifle clamp where the center console used to be.
DuLaney shrugged, "They'll probably want us to just keep bleeding the Soviet advance force. It's not like we're in much of a position to do anything else but defend until the 3rd gets here."
Owen nodded, he knew DuLaney was talking about the 3rd Canadian-American (Can-Am) Expeditionary Force.
Following a series of major Allied defeats that started at Kyev, the 6th Pan-European Coalition (PEC) Army, along with the New Ukrainian Army, had been chased across Ukraine by the 12th Soviet Army Group. In a stroke of luck for the Allies, the Soviets stretched themselves too thin and had to stop near Uman while the supply lines caught up. This gave retreating forces the time they needed to make it to Tkacheva, a small city near the Romanian border. It boasted a large airfield that was built for the Soviet Air Force in the 2030s to house nuclear bombers. As soon as the PEC forces could catch their collective breath, they started throwing everything they had into Tkacheva's eventual defense. It went from a strategic allied air base somewhat behind enemy lines with little more than a Ukrainian garrison force to defend it, to the last allied air base in Ukraine almost overnight. Because of Tkacheva's newfound importance, both the 6th PEC and the Ukrainian Army asked for help in its defense.
Can-Am Coalition leaders immediately agreed to send the 3rd Can-Am Group north from Romania where it had just finished helping the 4th PEC Army in defeating the Soviets. Unfortunately the 3rd Can-Am needed time to bring its reserves up from Greece to replenish the losses. Leaders estimated it would take three days to bring up to almost full strength. As a stop-gap measure, the 3rd Can-Am and the 4th PEC sent multiple Special Forces teams to support the teams from the 6th PEC and the Ukrainian Army.
These Special Forces groups worked together to stall the Soviets' advance every way they could. Canadian JTF2 teams joined up with German KSK teams to cause general mayhem for both the Soviet main group and the forward element it sent ahead to harass Allied forces. Bridges were destroyed, road signs were switched, and roadside bombs were used to good effect.
Green Beret teams did what they did best and started training every village that wanted to fight the Soviets while they also kidnapped low ranking Soviet officers for interrogation. One of the GIGN teams from the 6th had even managed to kill a group of high ranking Soviet commanders at the cost of their own lives.
In response to the harassment, the Soviets probed the city's defenses constantly. This usually consisted of recon teams engaging a security checkpoint and bugging out before a Quick Response Force could engage. Today marked the first time the Soviets brought artillery into the fight, which likely meant the main army was close.
Just as Owen thought that, the screech of fighter jets could be heard. The two men looked up and saw two Soviet fighters scream into the area, do a few tight circles over the wrecked artillery position, then hit the afterburners and fly back the way they came.
Owen and DuLaney shared a look.
"Well," DuLaney sighed, "fuck."
Owen nodded and loaded the last of his gear, "We need to tell command."
DuLaney hopped in the passenger seat of the battered ISV (Infantry Squad Vehicle) and turned on the radio while Owen climbed into the driver's seat and turned the ignition on. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel while he waited for the glow plug light to go out before starting it.
Once he adjusted the frequency to the radio he picked up the handset, "Camelot, Camelot, this is Raider, how copy?"
"Raider this is Camelot, send traffic."
"Camelot, Raider confirms mission success, all targets eliminated. Be advised we saw Soviet aircraft in the AO, possible that main element may be in theater."
"Already confirmed Raider, main element of the enemy force has entered the theater. Stand by for further tasking."
DuLaney shared a look with Owen, "Standing by."
"Raider, we are sending coordinates to your tac-pads, proceed to objective and escort a VIP to the airfield for evac. Send confirmation when you have the intel."
DuLaney swore under his breath as Owen groaned and put the ISV into gear, "Raider copies," he checked his pad, "Coordinates received, be advised we are thirty minutes, three zero mikes, away from the objective."
"Understood Raider, but you're the closest SF unit we have still operational."
Owen winced at the meaning behind the words and DuLaney paused for a second before responding, "Copy that Camelot, we're on our way."
"Good luck Raider, Camelot out."
DuLaney scrolled through his tac-pad as Owen drove. It was a while before he said anything.
"Where are we going?" Owen asked.
DuLaney frowned at the tac-pad before answering, "Remember that police station we had to bail Jenkins out of when we first came into country a few months back?"
Owen nodded, ignoring the pang in his chest at Jenkins' name, "The one by the shopping center?"
"That's the one," DuLaney confirmed, "Place we're going to is a block away, it's weird though, the coordinates show it as a local mechanic, why would a VIP be there?"
"Maybe he's getting an oil change." Owen joked.
DuLaney was about to respond but paused and looked behind the vehicle, "Get off the road!"
Owen killed the lights and swerved off the road and as close to the tree line as he could. He could hear the sound of approaching helicopters in the distance over the idling engine. Two Mi-28s with four Mi-8s following close behind blew past their position, just high enough that they wouldn't hit any vehicles on the road. The helicopters roared off towards Tkacheva. Owen waited for the drone of the rotors to fade away before he pulled back onto the road and punched the gas. The ISV's engine growled as the vehicle sped off.
"Shit's kickin off." DuLaney said, Owen nodded.
As they crested a hill they could see that the battle Tkacheva had started without them. The Soviet Army had moved faster than originally estimated. Helicopters danced above the city as they carried out missions. Occasionally one, hopefully Soviet, would fall to ground based anti air. The boom of artillery and cracks of gunfire filled the air. At the outskirts of the city Owen was forced to slow down to a crawl to weave through the burning wrecks of vehicles. Destroyed tanks, armored combat dolls, vehicles, Assault Artillery platforms, helicopters, not to mention the bodies from both sides, told them everything they needed to know about how the defense was going. The Soviets had already breached the city and fighting had moved further in.
"This day just keeps getting better." DuLaney said as he watched a soldier wander aimlessly through the wreckage.
"Shit, this day is just getting started." Owen said as he nodded at the sun starting to rise above the buildings.
DuLaney busied himself with the radio, jumping from frequency to frequency, trying to get an idea of how the fighting was going for the various units in the city. They heard a lot of desperate calls for medical evacuations, artillery and air strikes, and just general chaos. He paused on one frequency where an overrun British position was calling for an airstrike to level a building. He checked his tac-pad as the Forward Observer reported the coordinates over the radio.
"That's not far from where we're going." DuLaney said.
"Let Camelot know, see if they have an update." Owen replied.
As DuLaney hailed Camelot, Owen drove deeper into the city. He could see signs of a fierce and fast moving battle. Owen was forced to take side alleys, drive around the remains of defensive checkpoints, and at one point turn around and backtrack two blocks before finding a road that had not been completely destroyed. All the while, DuLaney kept trying to raise Camelot with no response. Owen could hear the frustration creep into DuLaney's voice each time he spoke into the radio and was only met with static.
"Maybe they changed up security and forgot to tell us." Owen offered.
DuLaney checked his tac-pad before he shook his head, "Freq change isn't for another hour, besides, I would have gotten a message."
Owen drove on, "Did you check your spam folder?"
"Spam is full of bill collectors and angry officers, as is tradition." DuLaney said as he let out a humorless chuckle, "For real though, if Camelot isn't on the net..." He trailed off.
"Camelot is down." Owen finished, "Any other teams in the area? Check the emergency channels."
DuLaney shook his head, "Already did, we're the only SF team in the area. Everyone left are regulars from the PEC, our guys, or Ukrainian Defense."
"You have the authent codes for the 3rd?"
DuLaney paused, "Hell yeah I do, wait one."
He entered the codes and tried the radio again, "Backstop, Backstop, this is callsign Raider, do you copy?"
Nothing.
"Backstop, this is callsign Raider, you copy?"
Still nothing.
DuLaney sighed, "Either our comms are fucked, or they're not in range."
"We shou-' He cut himself off as they turned a corner and saw what was left of a column of Soviet Gaz Tigers.
"I'll get on the gun." DuLaney said immediately.
Owen drove around the destroyed vehicles and was almost past the column when he slowed to a stop.
"Jesus." He breathed out.
They had found the overrun British position. The British had been manning a security checkpoint and had been surrounded and killed to the last man. They had maneuvered their vehicles in a defensive circle around a destroyed French Assault Artillery platform. As Owen took a closer look, he saw Soviet uniforms mixed in with British, French, and German ones. DuLaney slapped the top of the M2 and shook Owen from his trance. Without a word he put the ISV in gear and backed up. The ground in front of the IFV erupted in an explosion. Rounds impacted around them and Owen could hear the chatter of machine guns from the building above. DuLaney brought his gun around to a target Owen couldn't see and the M2 sang its war song.
Owen slammed the ISV back into drive as a second explosion struck behind them. DuLaney pivoted again and opened fire.
"I got multiple guys with RPGs and mounted guns in these buildings, get us the fuck out of here!"
"God dammit." He muttered to no one, and slammed the gas down. The ISV rattled and shook as its tires climbed over the bodies that were scattered in the intersection turned security checkpoint.
"Fuck!" DuLaney shouted as a round whizzed past his head.
Owen clenched his jaw as he continued to drive over bodies and debris before he finally found empty pavement. As soon as the tires hit level ground he smashed the accelerator and the ISV roared off. Ahead of them, he saw a Soviet soldier holding the end of what looked like a net.
"Contact front!" He yelled.
DuLaney swung his gun around, "Got em!"
The M2 fired but the aim was off and the burst impacted the side of a building. The soldier ran across the road and Owen saw that it wasn't a net, but concertina wire. DuLaney mowed the soldier down but the wire was already down. Owen drove straight through, and hoped it wouldn't get wrapped around the front axle. For the next thirty yards his luck held. Then one of the front tires locked up, he pressed the accelerator and the engine revved in response, but the vehicle only skittered forward inch by inch.
"Motherfucker, motherfucker, MOTHERFUCKER!" Owen yelled in frustration as he grabbed his rifle and got out of the ISV, he turned to grab his pack and felt it snag on something, with a quick tug, it jerked free.
A round snapped past as he shouldered his pack, in response, DuLaney opened up with the M2. Owen took a quick peek at the front of the vehicle and swore again. The wire was completely wrapped around the driver's side of the axle and the tire.
"Vic's trashed! We gotta go on foot!" He yelled.
Rounds struck near his feet and he felt asphalt cut at his legs. He dove behind the front tire as another burst of rounds struck where he had been standing.
"Across the road, top floor!" DuLaney yelled from the back of the ISV, before firing a burst.
Owen peeked up and saw a soldier firing a PKM in controlled bursts. Owen raised his rifle and the advanced optics outlined the target. Owen fired and was rewarded with a pink mist as his round struck between the eyes. Shouting in Russian could be heard all around them, and Owen saw shapes moving in the windows of buildings. They were surrounded. DuLaney grabbed his weapon and ran to the front door of a business as the opposite side of the street erupted. Owen sprinted from the cover of the ISV and followed DuLaney into the building. He could feel more asphalt biting into the back of his legs as the Soviet gun stitched a line behind him.
'Good thing they can't lead for shit.' he thought to himself.
DuLaney stood by the door of the shop and fired across the street as Owen sprinted into the building, DuLaney followed him in. They sprinted through rows of cubicles until they found an emergency exit at the end of the building. Owen stood to one side as DuLaney stopped in front of the door. With a shared nod, DuLaney kicked the door and Owen moved outside, rifle up. He was immediately met by a burst of gunfire. Owen dove behind a car parked on the side of the street as DuLaney took cover inside the building. Owen peeked over the trunk of the car and saw a group of soldiers moving behind sandbags as one particularly large man with a KTM 7,62 was doing an excellent job of keeping Owen and DuLaney suppressed with short bursts. He noticed a Ukrainian flag patch on the shoulder of the man's uniform.
"Tovarys'ki! Tovarys'ki!" Owen screamed as loud as he could between bursts, "Don't shoot!"
The KTM fell silent.
"Identify yourselves!" A voice boomed in Urkainian.
"Americans!" Owen shouted.
"What unit?"
"We're part of the advance teams!"
Words were quickly exchanged and the voice boomed out to them in heavily accented English, Owen could hear Russians yelling behind them.
"How many?"
"Two, me and one in the building!"
"Move to our position, now!" The voice ordered.
Owen sprinted from behind the car, followed by DuLaney. They both dove behind the sandbags at the same time and stared down the KTM.
"Prove it." The man with the KTM, said in heavily accented English.
Owen reached into his pocket and held up his ID card. The bearded giant stepped forward and grabbed it. After turning it over a few times, the man grunted in satisfaction and handed it back over. He turned to the group and nodded. If the Ukrainian soldiers relaxed, they didn't show it.
"So my friends," the Ukrainian giant said, "What brings you to our forgotten streets?"
DuLaney showed the man his tac-pad, "We need to get to this address, it's important we do so quickly." He said in Ukrainian.
The man looked impressed that DuLaney could speak his language, and Owen gave a silent cheer that the knock off 'Ukrainian Rosetta Rock' program they bought hadn't gone to waste. Those things were expensive.
"We'll help you, our command wants nothing to do with us anyway." The man patted his KTM 7,62 with a chuckle.
DuLaney turned to Owen, "So, dude says he..."
"Yeah, I know what he said." Owen cut him off.
DuLaney frowned, "You speak Ukrainian? Since when?"
Owen stared at him in disbelief, "We learned it at the same time you nerd."
"Ooooh yeah." DuLaney said.
Owen shook his head and turned to the man, "Thank you for your kindness, but we don't want to disrupt your own mission with ours."
The man grinned, "Please, call me Grigori, and don't worry about us," he waved a large hand towards the group, "My men are well trained."
Owen nodded, and made introductions, "Thank you, I'm Sergeant Owen, this is Sergeant DuLaney."
Grigori nodded, "You are American Special Forces, yes?" he asked in English.
Owen and DuLaney shared a look, Grigori laughed, "Not to worry, we're with the 128th Mountain Brigade, we know about the work of the Western advance teams."
Their conversation was interrupted as the door Owen and DuLaney had come through burst open and Soviet troops started pouring out. Grigori swore and opened up with the KTM, cutting down three. The Ukrainian fireteam opened up and Owen could hear a rifle crack somewhere up above them. DuLaney's MG 338 joined Grigori's KTM. The two gunner's began taking the guns.
DuLaney would fire a short burst, followed by Grigori and the two LMGs kept the Soviet's suppressed. Owen raised his CT 21, fired four shots and was rewarded with three dead soldiers. Movement from an upper window in the Soviet controlled building caught his eye. A Soviet had his LMG rested on the window frame and was sighting them in. The crack of the rifle above him sounded again, and the Soviet's head disappeared in a pink mist before he fell over his weapon. Another soldier dragged him back and the rifle cracked again.
"We gotta move!" Owen called out to DuLaney, who nodded and primed a grenade, "Frag out!
Owen followed his lead. He pulled a grenade from it's pouch on his vest, rotated the selector to CONC, and tossed it into the doorway just after the first grenade detonated.
"Concussion out!" He yelled as he threw it behind the vehicle a few Soviets had managed to crouch behind. The grenade detonated and the enemy soldiers fell, hopefully dead.
Grigori shouted orders and one of the Ukrainian soldiers lifted an old AT-4 to his shoulder.
"Backblast clear!" The soldier yelled before he fired, everyone hunkered down behind their cover.
The rocket leapt out of the tube and streaked towards its target, the explosion was enough to collapse the doorway.
"We're moving, follow me!" Grigori yelled in Ukrainian, then spoke rapid fire into the headset he wore.
His team immediately sprang into action as Grigori sprinted, Owen was surprised with how fast the big man was, especially with all of his gear on and the large KTM that he handled with ease. They leapfrogged their way through side streets and back alleys as Grigori, hopefully, led the US Soldiers to their objective. The rag-tag team only had to stop once or twice to hide from enemy forces.
Owen considered it lucky that the heaviest fighting had moved further in the city, and the Soviets hadn't had a chance to send in their occupying force yet. Occasionally, Grigori would have them wait a bit while his sniper displaced to a position further ahead and check that the coast was clear. Owen thanked whatever gods he could think of that they found Grigori when they did.
Grigori held his hand up and dropped to a knee as they approached a street corner and the team formed up behind him. The Ukrainian then pointed to Owen and waved him forward. Owen moved up and kneeled down next to him, DuLaney followed suit. As he did, Grigori pointed to a run down and abandoned looking auto shop.
"This is the place." He whispered.
Owen frowned as DuLaney pulled up information on his tac-pad, Owen was about to object when DuLaney nodded in satisfaction.
"This is the place," he announced, "Guy we're looking for goes by the call sign 'Alley Cat', he knows we're comin."
"How do you wish to proceed?" Grigori asked them.
Owen mulled it over, "Let's bound over, DuLaney up front, me in the rear. Set up security and make contact with the VIP. After that, we plan our exit," He slapped Grigori's shoulder, "We can get you a ride out too."
Grigori gave a humorless chuckle, "I will ask my men, but I think the only safe place left for us is outside of Ukraine, and I would rather die keeping my country free."
"Your call." Owen said.
Grigori gave a thankful nod and moved to brief his men, as he did, DuLaney looked at his tac-pad, slapped it a few times, then shook his head.
"Can I see your tac-pad real quick?" He asked Owen.
"Sure," Owen said, "It's in my pack, outer center pocket."
DuLaney nodded and moved behind him, Owen felt his pack tug as DuLaney rummaged through it.
"Uh..."
Owen frowned, "What?"
"Well, your outer pocket is ripped at the bottom, tac-pad's gone bro." DuLaney announced.
Owen swore and pulled his pack off to look at it, sure enough, the pocked looked like someone had ripped it open at the bottom, the contents were nowhere to be found. Owen groaned and put it back on.
"I told you not to use the GI pack, it's shit."
"I've had this thing since before I went to Ranger School, it never let me down." Owen said defensively.
DuLaney rolled his eyes, "Dude, that was before the war, they phased that pack out ages ago."
"It's my lucky pack, it's the one I was wearing when I got hit in the back, it saved my life."
"Let me guess, it went through the pocket that used to hold your tac-pad." DuLaney deadpanned.
Owen frowned as he thought back, 'oh shit,' he thought, 'that is where the round went in.'
"Noooo..."
"Fucking moron." Was all DuLaney said as he slapped Owen's pack lightly.
Owen chose not to respond, instead he adjusted the straps on his pack, and looked back towards the building that was their objective. He then looked at Grigori and his team, the Ukrainians looked exhausted, but calm. Everyone scanned their area, alert and relaxed.
'Squared away.' Owen thought to himself.
Grigori surveyed the area with a nod before he turned to Owen and DuLaney, "Sniper is in an overwatch position and reports the immediate area is clear, though a large group could be moving this way soon."
DuLaney held out his fist and Owen bumped it, "See you on the other side." Owen told him.
DuLaney grinned, "Don't trip."
The ritual completed, DuLaney did a quick scan of the area and sprinted across the street as fast as he could. He reached the auto shop and disappeared inside. After a few seconds, he reappeared and waved them over once he was satisfied it was safe. One by one, the rest of the team sprinted across as quickly and as quietly as they could. Owen watched as Grigori sprinted to the building, turned and waved. Owen immediately stood and ran, once he was inside, he saw the Ukrainian fire team had already set up in fire positions. Grigori was talking into his headset, Owen assumed it was to his sniper. He saw DuLaney speaking quickly into a land line in the lobby of the auto shop with a slight frown on his face. Owen dropped his pack and sat down.
Owen opened one of the side pouches that held a bunch of rat-fucked MREs and grabbed a pack of MRE crackers and some chocolate peanut butter spread. He opened the crackers, grabbed one, put a dab of chocolate peanut butter on it and took a bite. He then laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes while he chewed.
Owen tried to remember the last time he had real food, but couldn't remember. DuLaney and he had been running nonstop for months, battle to battle, country to country, while the Allies tried, and slowly failed, to hold against the Soviet military. He briefly thought of Angela, a woman he had met in London two years ago. They had an on/off relationship that he had broken off last time he was on leave.
Owen then tried to remember when that was, but couldn't. He took another bite of chocolate peanut butter cracker and frowned. He didn't usually lose track of time, but a lot had happened since his last R&R. They had a full team for one, and the war didn't look bleak.
Owen leaned forward, shook his head, and cleared his thoughts. He then choked on his last bite of MRE cracker, coughed, accidentally inhaled more MRE cracker down the wrong pipe, and erupted in a coughing fit. He looked down at the package and, to his horror, saw that he had eaten the whole pack without any water. No mortal could handle that much soy and wheat without water.
'So,' he thought, 'this is how I die.'
Grigori then appeared with two bottles of water and offered one to Owen, who immediately accepted and chugged half a bottle. With a chuckle, Grigori sat next to Owen and took a gulp of his own water.
Owen dug back into the rat-fuck MRE pouch on his pack and produced four packets of instant coffee, two of which he offered to Grigori. With a nod of thanks, Grigori took the packets, tore them open and dumped them into his water bottle and shook it. Meanwhile Owen tore his own two packets open and poured them directly into his mouth and chewed the instant coffee before washing it down with a large gulp. Grigori stared at him in awe.
"What?" Owen asked before he took another swig and swished the water around to make sure no coffee grounds were in his teeth.
Grigori chuckled again and shook his head.
Owen shrugged before he motioned to Grigori's team, "I gotta say, I'm impressed with your guys. Most of the Ukrainian regulars we work with are enthusiastic, but don't have the..." he trailed off, thinking of the right word, "skill you have."
"I would hope so, all of us are career soldiers, before the Revolution we were with the 45th Guards Spetsnaz Brigade. As luck would have it, we were in Kyiv waiting for deployment when the first shots were fired. My team and I stole a BMP and met up with the first Revolutionary group we found." Grigori explained with a grin, "The rest, as they say, is history."
"Damn, that's pretty ballsy." Owen said.
"Dyakuyu tobi." Grigori said.
"Laskavo prosymo." Owen replied.
"I have to ask," Grigori said, "Where did you learn your Ukrainian?"
"Budget foreign language computer class." Owen said with pride.
"Ah." Grigori said in understanding.
"Pretty good, yeah?"
Grigori gave him a look, "It's...passable."
"Excellent." Owen said unashamedly.
DuLaney slammed the phone in the receiver and walked over to Owen and Grigori. He gave the two men a look that meant he had bad news before he sighed, flopped down next to Owen and let out a frustrated growl.
"This will be good." Owen said as he dug through his pouch of MRE goodies and handed DuLaney a packet of chocolate peanut butter and more MRE crackers.
DuLaney nodded, but at the sight of the chocolate peanut butter, his eyes lit up and tore the packet open.
"This isn't the place." DuLaney informed them before he squeezed the peanut butter onto a cracker and shoved it into his mouth.
"What do you mean this isn't the place?" Grigori asked, annoyed.
DuLaney held up a finger as he chewed, then took a drink of water, "I mean that the location we need to be, is not this location."
Owen threw his now empty water bottle at DuLaney's head, "Don't be an asshole, explain."
DuLaney grinned, "Ok, remember when we ran inside this building?"
Owen stared at him and said nothing.
DuLaney shook his head, "Bro, you gotta lighten up, you act like we're going to die or something."
Owen snorted but still said nothing.
"Anyway, when I ran inside I noticed the phone was blinking so I picked it up and a 'representative'", DuLaney made air quotes with his fingers, "of our VIP informed me that they were watching us, and were coming to get us so we could escort them out."
"Them?" Grigori asked.
DuLaney nodded as he took another huge bite of chocolate peanut butter and cracker. He coughed, took another drink, and continued. "Yup, apparently our VIP has their own security escort."
Owen groaned, "Well fuck me."
"I will not," DuLaney joked, "But yeah, that was my reaction too."
"I assume their security detail will be trained and armed, why are you displeased?" Grigori asked.
"The last thing we need is a bunch of rent-a-cops trying to act like action heroes and getting people killed." DuLaney said.
Grigori looked to Owen confused, Owen gave a shrug of his shoulders and explained, "We've had some bad experiences with private security."
Grigori nodded slowly.
"Right, and speaking of idiot security" DuLaney continued, "They're sending someone over to escort us."
Grigori stood, "I'll inform…" His head snapped to the window and swore.
Owen and DuLaney were on their feet, weapons ready, the Ukrainians were moving to defensive positions. Owen heard the sound of helicopters approaching.
He turned to DuLaney, "Better tell the VIP to hang tight."
DuLaney nodded and ran to the phone. Owen took position next to Grigori, who had braced his LMG on a shattered window frame.
"What's up?" Owen asked.
"My sniper said a force is on their way here." Grigori informed him.
Owen frowned, "Like, directly here?"
Grigori nodded, "It appears they know where we are."
"How many?"
Grigori gave him a grim smile, "Many."
"Neat." Owen sighed and checked his mag to make sure it was full.
The team waited as the sound of rotors beating drew closer. Suddenly the crack of a rifle rang out, followed by another. A second rifle boomed in response, then only the sound of the approaching helicopters was heard.
Grigori gave an amused grunt, "Our sniper found the enemy scout. He is no longer a factor."
Owen said nothing at first, but gave the rooftops a quick scan. Experience taught him that there was always more than one scout, "Tell your sniper to keep his eyes out for another scout."
Grigori nodded and spoke into his headset, he turned to tell Owen something but an explosion shook the building and knocked the two men off their feet. Owen's vision blurred and his ears were filled with a high pitched ring. He blinked a few times to get his head right then looked over to Grigori. The big man had already gotten back to his feet and was checking on his men.
DuLaney ran over to check Owen over. "Lookin good my man, just caught some shrapnel from the blast," he held out a hand and hauled Owen to his feet, "Nap time's over princess, we got work to do."
With that, DuLaney ran back over to the office phone and began dialing a number.
Owen shook his head one more time before turning back to see what had happened. A rocket had struck the street in front of them. A rifle boomed three times from above them.
"Our sniper has found the rest of the scouting party." Grigori informed them after the shooting had stopped.
A helicopter roared overhead, followed by another, then another. 'Guess they're here.' Owen thought to himself as he peeked outside.
DuLaney let out a whoop and slammed the phone down, "Owen, pop red smoke in the road in two minutes, cavalry's comin!"
"You got a hold of Backstop?" Owen asked in surprise.
"Hell yeah, rescue helo's are on their way here with a fighter escort, three minutes and we are outta here!" DuLaney cheered.
Owen frowned, "But the VIP…"
"Our master will be here shortly." Two voices said in unison behind them.
Owen and DuLaney spun around and aimed their weapons at two identical looking young women dressed in business suits. They watched the two soldiers intensely.
"What the actual fuck?" DuLaney finally blurted out.
"It's like the fucking Shining, except without that dude running around with an axe and shit." Owen agreed.
"What is going on?" Grigori asked as he positioned his KTM.
"Uh, there's some twins here." Owen called out.
"What?"
"We're handling it." DuLaney chimed in.
"See that you do, the enemy is here." A burst of machine gun fire impacted the front of the building as if to emphasize Grigori's point, and the Ukrainian soldiers opened up as one in a deafening roar.
"Our master sent us ahead to make sure the area is safe." One twin said.
"It appears that you have not succeeded in that regard." The other chimed in.
"I'm assuming you're the security detail?" Owen asked as he checked his watch. Sixty seconds until air support arrived, "Where did you come from?"
"Master had us take the emergency passage." The second twin informed them and pointed to the vehicle lift which had risen about 5 feet in the air and revealed a hidden set of stairs that descended beneath the building.
DuLaney gave Owen an extremely knowing look. Owen just shook his head and said, "Helicopter will be here in less than a minute, so if your Master wants a ride out of here, then they need to move their ass."
If the twins responded Owen didn't hear because he was already moving closer to the front of the building, smoke grenade in hand. Rounds impacted the front of the store and the sound of the Ukrainians guns were deafening.
Owen pulled the pin on his smoke grenade and gave it an underhand toss to the middle of the street in front of them where it rolled to a stop and began to billow red smoke. A round snapped past Owen and he saw dozens of soldiers moving in the windows of the shops and offices across the street of their garage. He shouldered his rifle and tried to hit as many as he could before the smoke obscured his vision.
The scream of jet engines sounded overhead, followed immediately by explosions. Owen saw the flaming wreck of a helicopter slam into the building across the street before it fell onto the sidewalk below. Heat washed through the garage they were standing in and pieces of metal rained down on the roof overhead.
Owen heard another explosion that sounded like it came directly overhead, when he went to look he saw a figure jump down from the roof of the garage onto the smoke filled street. Bullets struck the figure, causing them to crumple to the ground.
"That's our sniper!" Grigori cried out.
Owen jumped out of the building and disappeared into the red cloud that now covered the road. Above he could hear jets screaming, and explosions. Ahead he could hear Russians screaming, and rifle and machine gun fire, which forced him to low-crawl across the street. Behind he could hear DuLaney and the Ukrainians yelling and returning fire with their own rifles and machine guns. He focused on the point he last saw the sniper before the smoke got too thick. If wasn't careful he'd get turned around and crawl straight into the Soviet held buildings.
A distinctly feminine figure came into view, lying flat against the road, trying to present as small a target as possible. Owen crawled behind her, which presented a very nice view, and slapped her boot to get her attention. The sniper turned to look back at him with murder in her blue eyes. Owen tapped the right shoulder of his uniform and made sure she saw the flag before she shot him.
She seemed to understand because her features went from rage to relief and she stood and sprinted back the way Owen had come from, rifle in hand. Owen stood and started to run as well, but felt something punch him from behind. He fell back down onto the road, his own rifle clattered onto the pavement in front of him. He tried to catch his breath, but it felt like someone hit him in the chest with a sledgehammer.
He crawled towards his rifle and every movement made him gasp for oxygen. He struggled to stand back up, but the action caused him to pant heavily. Every breath sent waves of pain through his chest and no matter how many times he tried to gasp for air, it still felt like he was winded.
He finally stood up and tried to run. Instead he stumbled and felt something flop around in his chest.
'Shit,' he thought, 'so this is what a punctured lung feels like.'
His head started to swim from lack of oxygen, his chest burned and ached. He stumbled back towards safety and only when he saw the front of the garage did he try to run again. He stumbled and fell back down, but immediately he felt someone grab him and drag him into the building.
Two of the Ukrainian soldiers began stripping his gear off his torso and ripped his uniform top off. Owen tried to tell them what happened but he couldn't catch his breath long enough to talk. The lack of oxygen was causing him to hallucinate, because he saw a beautiful blonde haired woman with deep blue eyes full of concern staring down at him. She kept trying to tell him something but he couldn't make out what. He grinned, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do, the woman's face twisted in fear.
He blinked, and as he was being held up by the two Ukrainian soldiers, he saw a helicopter with a massive red cross painted on the side hovering above him, getting ready to land. A rocket struck the tail and caused the medivac to pitch towards him. The sound of metal crumpling and screeching filled the air. People were yelling. Heat washed over his face.
He blinked and suddenly he was being dragged away from the flaming wreckage.
Blink.
He was lying on the ground and watching DuLaney arguing with a woman while those two twins stood beside her."-what I'm trying to tell you. That helicopter was our only ticket out of here!"
"That's fine, the twins will cover our retreat into the main building and we can work out a plan from there." The woman said calmly.
"What about Owen?" DuLaney asked the woman.
Blink.
Suddenly he was being rolled on a gurney, DuLaney was frowning down at him, "-otta stay awake buddy, okay?" DuLaney looked over at someone Owen couldn't see, "He's not breathing! Stay with me buddy? Don't go to sleep, stay awake…"
Blink.
"Sergeant Owen? Please, if you can hear me, we need you to wake up!"