Chp. 2: Rendezvous with Destiny
May 9, 1995
Osean Forward Arming and Refueling Point, North Sapin
Much like Pratt, the stretch of Sapinish farmland had become home to a small town's worth of people and machinery. The stench of manure, indicative of the local beef and dairy industry, broke through the tang of aviation fuel and engine exhaust mixed with the acrid smell of war. Camp Tumbleweed (or Camp Shithouse in informal matters) represented about half of the 101st's helos, most of those present attack helicopters or cargo haulers. Most of them sat in loose groupings, covered by tarps or just...waiting. The mountains of Southern Ustio rose in the distance, like the dragon's keep towering over an approaching knight. The beat of rotorblades from the south revealed a single UH-60A hurrying low over the fields. The lone Blackhawk slowed to a hover, then gingerly descended onto one of the landing zones. Ground crew hurried forward to meet the helicopter as its rotors wound down and its engines faded into silence. General Stout exited from the bird and hurried to a pair of officers waiting nearby. He returned their salutes and moved them towards a waiting Humvee next to a pair of fuel bladders. The three got in before anyone asked a question.
"What was that all about, sir?" his XO, Colonel Meyers, asked as he took the driver's seat.
"Just the old man keeping me abreast of the adjustments in our plan." Stout replied.
"How big are the changes?" his Ustian adviser, Major Guppenberg, asked from the back seat. Stout sighed as the vehicle jolted off towards a collection of tents and trailers.
"In typical Osean Army fashion, it's big. Murdoch got orders to launch tonight, so we have a much bigger time crunch than we'd thought. Our mission remains the same, though: Task Force Mustang is to support the division's capture of Solis Ortus while the rest of the brigade helps the advance towards them. Any supply issues we have we need to keep them separated from the Task Force as much as possible. We've also got the option to hold off on establishing FARPs in 2nd and 3rd Brigades DZs to allow more time for them to deliver 1-17th Armor to the fight. I'm gonna go ahead and say we're not landing a single Apache there until it's over. Evac and resupply flights will still go through but they'll be in and out." Stout rattled off in a soft, nasally tone.
"So that's it then?" Guppenberg asked. He sat back and nodded with increasing vigor.
"Well you're my Ustian advisor, Harry..." Stout trailed off.
"You feel something's wrong, General?"
"It's just that this kind of thing's never been attempted before in this kind of terrain. Paratroopers tend to work best on open ground when they're falling from the sky."
"Major, you were at Solis Ortus during the retreat, right?" Meyers spoke up.
"Yes...General, if I may speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"When the Belkans invaded, they thought they could take Solis Ortus in half a day. They thought very logically in their approach. Used their ski troops and helicopters to clear the way for their tanks. Too logically, and we were able to hold them off for two days. On the third we fled, but left them bleeding. Now, something I've noticed about the Osean way of military thinking is this: logic is subservient to effectiveness. The Belkans expect us to come in the same way they did. They don't expect for you to drop upon them like this."
Meyer's dark features changed to a toothy grin.
"Awful lotta ass-kissing there, Major."
"Ha, if it gets me my country back, that is a small price." Gutenberg laughed dryly.
"But you must agree, Ja?" He added.
"Guilty as charged." Meyers replied.
"Well it's out of our hands now, boys...Major, I'm attaching you to the Task Force. I need you to impart every bit of knowledge you can upon Colonel Vitelli and his staff. We're coming up on his CP now." Stout added.
The imposing form of Lieutenant Colonel Jerry Vitelli emerged from a tent as the Humvee for "Wing 6" came rolling up. He snapped to attention and rendered a salute to Stout as the man exited.
"Colonel, you've met Major Guppenberg, yes?" He said as he walked around to the man.
"Yes sir, but only briefly."
"Well best get him up to speed quick; op's been moved up to tonight, pending weather. I'll have someone bring over his things."
Vitelli puckered his lips a little and nodded.
"Do you have enough aircraft ready to go tonight?" The shorter Brigadier asked.
"If we're launching tonight, then I'll be short all but one spare for the Chinooks. Captain Griggs is working on it but earliest he can get me more spares is about three hours after we're now scheduled to get moving."
"Alright tell him to keep on it. If need be, I can tap some Blackhawks to cover until they're able to go."
"Much obliged, sir."
Vitelli looked towards the Ustian officer and returned the man's salute before holding out a hand.
"Welcome aboard, Major." He said.
"A pleasure, Colonel Vitelli. Shall I follow you?" the man replied. Vitelli nodded and turned towards the tent.
"Yes, let's go ahead and get you up to speed. You know much about heliborne warfare, Major?"
"I served in one of the Army's few helicopter battalions. I was the Operations Officer, but I have some experience in smaller types. The Gazelle, mostly."
"Well we don't need your flying skills for this one, so don't worry about having to do OJT."
"OJT?"
"On the job training."
Vitelli returned the salutes of the men in his command tent and quickly passed along the change in plans. While his staff got to work getting things in motion, The Colonel led his Ustian comrade to a map on a nearby table.
"Alright, so currently our plan is as follows: the Task Force's central unit, our 1st Battalion, will sortie 12 Apaches up this corridor here to Solis Ortus. Until we reach the fight, our primary mission is to escort in Chinooks ferrying supplies and Blackhawks tapped for MEDEVAC. Though now that the schedule's been changed, we won't have as many backup aircraft as we planned. The Apaches will provide fire support to our blocking positions on the northbound highway and against any heavy weapons in town. According to G-2, the Belkans have light armor and towed artillery supporting the infantry in town. We've been promised the skies'll be clear of Belkan aircraft, but I'm not holding my breath." He explained.
"Are these the approaches you plan to take through the mountains?"
"Yes."
"I would avoid this one and this one. They are prone to rockslides, especially in the later months of spring...there is also a ski trail here. The Belkans may have foot patrols moving along that route."
"Do you have alternatives in mind?"
"Said trail may be an option, if the Belkan patrols aren't carrying Iglas."
"We'll assume the worst, which is why our main approaches will take advantage of the routes cleared by our guys on the ground."
Vitelli drew attention to the lands far south of the objective with a tension-filled face.
"My personal concern is this: the 10th Panzer Division has been placed in reserve about twenty miles southeast of Solis Ortus. Possibly to reform before they head north; being one of the "Heer's" better divisions, they have that proverbial rarity the Marder. There's an equal chance that they'll push to relieve Solis Ortus or move towards the 1st Marine Division's flank. If they don't move south to attack Fifth Corps, that is."
"General Stout is aware of this, though." Gutenberg reminded him.
"Yeah and so is every other general in the Osean Army, but until they're rendered combat ineffective...well, assume the worst."
Vitelli chuckled a bit, then tapped the highway between them and Solis Ortus.
"If they move north, I'm going to have to take assets away from the main fight to help interdict them. For the most part, Major, I want you to assist my S-3 in coordinating flights going back and forth. You know this terrain, and Captain Weathers understands that. However, he has command authority in the end."
The Osean saw a tinge of annoyance in the man's gaze, but paid it no mind. The good Major also realized his expression had changed and stowed any complaints. Smart move, Vitelli thought. He instead called over Captain Gabe Weathers to get the two acquainted. Vitelli checked the coffee pot and, seeing an excuse to take a walk, declared he was going to get more. Gutenberg saw him leave from over Captain Weathers's shoulder.
"I see the Colonel certainly doesn't carry his rank like most Colonels…"
"His battalion loves him for it."
"I know his reputation, especially regarding the division's battles around the Great Lakes. Took out 24 enemy armor vehicles, if I recall?"
"About that many, but that's a discussion for another time."
"Yes...anyways, it just occurred to me there are a few places near the town that might be of use for resupply and evacuation."
"Show me."
"Gladly."...
First Lieutenant Matthew Hall punched off his external fuel tanks and gave the word for Longsword Flight to split into pairs. He tensed his muscles as he yanked his F-15E Strike Eagle to the right and rolled into a steep dive. He pulled the nose up seconds later and adjusted the throttles as he eased down to an altitude just above Northern Sapin's hills. In the back, Second Lieutenant Henry Collins adjusted the picture from their LANTIRN (Low Altitude Navigation and Targeting Infrared for Night) on one of his displays and checked the map on the other. He leveled the camera's view and turned it towards the direction of their target. Through the fuzzy-green haze of his Night Vision Goggles (NVGs), he spotted the twinkling fires created by friendly F-16s. The Radar Warning Receiver's mood was reserved as it detected sources far away.
"Marshal, I'm getting a pretty strong hit. Far off, but it's powerful." Matt announced over the intercom.
"Looks like a Tin Shield. Probably one of the Grumble batteries up around Directus." Henry assured. If his hunch was right, they would be too distracted by a raid aimed directly at the capital.
"No Straight Flushes though...right?"
"Not that I'm seeing. Closest hits are from Shilkas."
"Roger, I see 'em."
Matt looked to his number two, First Lieutenant Valentina Alexitov, as she kept her Strike Eagle loosely in formation. They rushed northwards like that for a minute, then crossed the border towards Belkan air defenses east of Solius Ortus. Matt keyed his radio once they were firmly inside Ustio.
"Break now, 2-2!" He snapped.
"Two!" Valentina replied.
The two F-15s went in opposite directions, then slowly came back towards their original course in a series of rapid twists and rolls to stay a hard target. An E-3 supporting the strike was giving play-by-play commentary as eight Strike Eagles closed in on their first target. Things started speeding up as Matt hit his Initial Point. Henry made sure the aircraft's twelve CBU-87s were armed and ready. He also slaved the LANTIRN camera to the center of the SAM battery they were heading for. He used it and his "Mk.1 Eyeballs" to spot the ZSUs Matt had caught wind of. Tracers appeared from behind the steadily rising terrain and the RWR told him the Belkan guns were taking shots at the Oseans nearby. The SA-6s' radars, Straight Flushes, were gone and dead thanks to the HARMs (High-speed Anti-Radiation Missile) the Vipers had been packing.
"The CBUs ready, Marsh?" Matt asked.
"Ready and waiting." Henry assured.
Matt announced he was in hot and raised his altitude a bit. Baroness and him crossed paths one more time before they committed to the attack. Matt went in first, jamming his throttles forward and setting his flares and chaff to automatic the second he entered the realm of short-range defenses. Tracer streams drifted his way; Henry responded by changing the camera view to the nearest guns.
"Watch that Zeus at our ten, Prince." He warned.
"I see 'em! Okay Marshal, hold on!" Matt replied.
Matt banked hard left, nose up, dipped his right wing down and aimed his F-15 at several ZSUs and SA-6 launchers sitting in a farm field.
"Longsword 2-1, bombs away bombs away!" He called.
Six of the CBUs fell from the Strike Eagle's fuselage pylons. Matt pulled away and ascended in full afterburner while Valentina and her Weapons System Operator, Moose Ferguson, dropped their load over the other half of the site. Waves of fire erupted behind them and culminated into an inferno of massive proportions. Henry looked back while Matt circled towards the mountains, deploying more flares as a ZSU tried to take the Strike Eagle with it before one of the bomblets unleashed on the site cartwheeled over the highway. The gun exploded and left Matt and Henry to escape the Belkans.
"We're clear, Prince! Go go!" His backseater called.
Matt immediately aimed for a second site for his second six bombs. A second battery of ZSUs opened up in all directions; the RWR wasn't showing any of them having their radars on. Matt stayed fast and loose, raised his altitude a bit and went slightly right for this pass. Valentina crossed over above him and the two dropped their second salvo of bombs on a site a few fields over. Matt hooked to the right this time and nosed up. His F-15 felt much lighter now that he'd dropped all the CBUs and the external tanks. He switched to his AIM-120B AMRAAMs (Advanced Air-to-Air Missile) and made a wide right to cover his wingwoman.
"Baroness you still with me?" He asked as he turned on his plane's radar.
"Yeah, yeah...had a close call but we're still goin strong." She replied.
"Alright, keep going south towards the border. We'll cover you. Three, Four, you guys up?"
"Three!"
"Four!"
They'd managed to come off this one undamaged, Matt thought with a wave of Strike Eagles formed into loose pairs and headed south towards safety…
Over two-dozen C-141B Starlifters sat on the tarmac, rubbing elbows with almost as many C-130H Hercules being loaded with supplies and Sherridans. Josh stared at the nearest Starlifter as he sat on the ground, immobilized by all the gear he carried. The night air felt heavier and even more unbearable with face camo smeared all over his mug. He glanced at Alex, who was still and wordless. In his zone, getting ready for his next foray into combat. It was easy to tell who was green and who wasn't. The new bloods were chatterboxes who fidgeted with their gear while the veterans, if they did talk, kept their voices calm and even. The Jumpmasters were the only ones moving about, checking chutes and equipment. Josh was more focused on listening for the order to get off his fourth point of contact and onto one of the Starlifters. Every now and again his mind would drift towards things he had no control over, only to jolt back when he realized it.
He noted a figure waddling towards the platoon and squinted hard enough to make out the features of Captain Losch. Baker Company's CO wordlessly trotted up to the Lieutenant and held out a hand. Josh accepted it and snapped a quick salute to the man.
"At ease, Lieutenant. I'm simply giving warning to everyone that his highness Major Skarpske is going about the brigade in an attempt to get everyone fired up." He said with an artificial smile.
"Greatly appreciated, sir." Josh replied with a grimace.
Losch's head dipped robotically a few times before he went off...someplace else. He just seemed to pick a direction and walk. Even under the face camo, Josh could tell the man was pale as pale could be. He couldn't be too hard on Baker's jumpy CO. At least Losch had some self-awareness about how weird and overearnest he was. Major Garret Skarpske, on the other hand…
"Good evening, gentleman! Looking like some real fine disciples of AirLand battle! Airborne!"
A short, wide-jawed man came walking past the platoon, devoid of most of his kit for the jump. Josh rendered the man a salute and quietly hoped he wouldn't catch the Brigade S-3's attention.
"It's "Air Assault", sir!" Someone yelled from the crowd.
Josh figured it to be some well-meaning (but tactless) PFC. Major Skarpske stopped and looked around, but no one said any more. Josh did the same so he'd look busy, and avoid meeting the senior man's gaze.
"You there!"
Of for the love of...Josh turned to the Major and saluted as he approached. Skarpske looked back over the paratroopers nearby, then back at the Lieutenant.
"So who's the little smartass who just shot his mouth off?" The shorter man growled.
"I don't recognize his voice, sir. Possibly someone outside of my platoon." Josh replied in a respectful tone. Skarpske looked back at the paratroopers and drew in a breath to challenge the "heckler", but Josh spoke first.
"Permission to speak, sir?"
The Major took a minute to read the younger man's nametape before he responded.
"...Granted, Lieutenant...Hazaki. Damn nametapes, who the hell made 'em so subdued you can't ID your fellow soldier quickly?" He rambled.
"Sir while I am unable to confirm if the voice came from one of my troops, I would respectfully point out that now may not be the best time to investigate who spoke." Josh replied. He refused to acknowledge the matter as an offense or transgression. Skarpske folded his arms and rested them upon his reserve chute.
"Discipline is important, Lieutenant Hazaki."
"I fully agree, sir, but a proper investigation of this matter...it would require resources and actions that would be in...direct conflict with our impending mission."
"Hmm, you do raise a fair point...very well. Excellent thinking, Lieutenant, we need an field-grade officer with your mission-oriented focus."
Josh nodded, thanked the man and carefully sat back down as the S-3 moved along once more. Alex leaned closer to him with a subtle grin.
"Excellent bullshitting, sir." He whispered.
"Much obliged, Sergeant Lohern." Josh replied, mirroring his expression. He stopped, thought, then added.
"If we do find out who that was, we should warn 'em about Major Skarpske's...ambitions."
"If their squadmates didn't already. Think he'll remember what happened?"
"I hope not."
Skarpske's roaming didn't last much longer once a runner came by looking for the man. General McKaffey was currently kicking himself for even allowing the man a minute to try and get his troops fired up. When the Major was returned, McKaffey simply told him to get his crap together so he could get aboard the plane and jump with the rest of the Brigade HQ. He checked his watch, then looked up as an Air Force Crew Chief hurried down the ramp of the Starlifter they were set to board.
"Sir, we're ready." He said with a quick gasp. McKaffey thanked him as he returned the man's salute and looked back at his HQ.
"Alright people, on your feet!" He barked, reaching out to help his XO, Lieutenant Colonel Geoff Garrison, to his feet.
Garrison turned and helped the Command Sergeant Major up, who in turn helped the soldier behind him up, and so on. Once everyone was on their feet, McKaffey marched forward and up the ramp of the C-141. He reluctantly took his place at the front of the cargo hold, in turn the end of the "stick" of paratroopers set to jump. In his opinion he should've been first out the door, but alas this was how it was to be. He settled down in a canvas seat and adjusted until he could be comfortable enough. There was a long wait while everyone got seated and the plane's crew got them settled in for the flight, but soon the sound of jet engines began to dominate the night air. He watched the ramp lift up and close, then felt the C-141 lurch forward. Suddenly, he heard a crackling above him and looked up as someone cleared their throat.
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We'd like to welcome you aboard Starlifter Airlines Flight 141 with nonstop service to Solis Ortus. Once we reach our cruising altitude it should be a five-hour flight, Unfortunately there will be no drink service on this flight but you will earn 300 travel plus points on your Starlifter Premium Visa. Flight attendants will be coming through the cabin to assist yah in just a moment and explain the safety features on this Lockheed Martin C-141 but first, we have a special announcement from Major General Lee Murdoch."
McKaffey chuckled and debated asking for a can of ginger ale and some peanuts when one of the aircrew walked by. The engine noise lessened for a second before a familiar voice came over the radio. The man's message was simple, and any paratrooper aboard the waiting cargo haulers could hear it. For a second, as if by some divine intervention, they could all hear it and understand it.
"Guidons, Guidons this is Eagle 6...the 101st's next rendezvous with destiny is east to Solis Ortus. Op-Ord Mountain Eagle is now in effect. Godspeed, Air Assault, out."
