« Thirty seconds. »
Through the open side door, Soul could almost touch the top of the trees as the Caracal flew towards its target. The sky was slowly losing its darkness overhead as the sun started to rise on another cold day. But the temperature was not a concern to all the commandos crammed into the belly of the flying beast.
In those difficult times, the Fantômes were not enough to do everything that had to be done for the Embassy rescue mission. While the biggest part of the team was still inside the walls of the city to coordinate upcoming airstrikes and keep their hideout safe, those that remained were not enough to do much. In fact, on paper they were not even supposed to handle this part of Operation Requin, leaving it entirely to the Commando Parachute Group of the Second Foreign Parachute Regiment. But also on paper, what the Fantômes came to do was also not supposed to be there.
« Twenty seconds. »
A safe distance next to the helicopter he was on, Soul could clearly see the rest of the assault team riding in another similar vehicle. They were all equipped somewhat similarly, sunglasses and neck gaiters concealing their faces with the rest of their bodies protected by tactical gear. And with a Tigre gunship flying in between the two Caracals, subtlety was out of the window. Small submachine guns were not part of the equation here as all checked their carbines, marksman rifles and light machine guns.
But in contrast, the endless forest that was under them was calm and peaceful. The endless forest spreading to the south west of the capital, surrounding a hill isolated from the rest of the range the city was built upon. In the past, when Sadera was still just one powerful city among many others, this hill had been a strategic location for a garrison. But with time, the city became the center of a large empire, and the relatively small fortress was no longer fit for its mission. It quickly found a new purpose, however, when the people in power needed a place away from society to secretly lock up those that had to disappear, but could not be killed.
« Ten seconds. »
« Shooter One-Zero to all. Target in range. Weapons away. »
With distinctive sounds, two rockets were launched out of their tubes on the gunship. And a few seconds later, the heavy detonations rang as the main gate and parts of the surrounding walls crumbled. Overhead, the two transport crafts started to orbit around their objective, the side guns opening fire on the panicking guards. Some had a good idea to run into hardened structures, but those that tried to fight back with arrows and ballistae were only met with lead from the autocannon and machineguns.
The structure of the prison was in practice very simple. A wall surrounded a courtyard with a single tower standing at the highest point of the hill. And when the only things inside the open area were just dust and blood, the two helicopters slowed down and hovered. Ropes were thrown out the open doors into the brown clouds kicked out by the spinning blades. And this was when things really started.
« Go ! Go ! Go ! »
One after the other, they all slid down the thick ropes. When reaching the ground, none wasted any time as they jumped into a circle formation. Weapons raised, they all watched places from which enemies could come to threaten their deployment at the moment they were the most vulnerable. This continued up to the point when the last of both groups touched the ground and the ropes were unhooked from the helicopters.
« Thunderhead, Rider Six-One. All teams are on the ground. Keeping overwatch. Over. »
« Understood Rider. All teams, no change in timings. Proceed as planned. »
All knew that they only had limited time to act. Within an hour, reinforcements from the city garrison would arrive to make their life even harder. But hopefully, by that point, they would be long gone.
Without words, all the soldiers moved towards their objective. Half of them moved to the low wooden barracks and the walls, laying siege to all those that had found refuge inside. The Fantômes, however, followed the other group towards the only door visible on the main tower.
« Stack up ! Itami, you're taking point ! »
The Legionnaires followed the instruction of their leader and surrounded the closed opening, the one in front carrying a simple ballistic shield. And the four Fantômes watched on, keeping an eye out for any possible dangers.
After some hand signals, one of the commandos stuck small charges of plastic explosives to the visible hinges of the door. The process was quick and precise, and the next second the soldier was back in the stack. There was one last set of signals to ensure everything and everyone was ready.
« Breaching ! Breaching ! Breaching ! »
The loud detonation blew the heavy door into countless pieces, throwing the shrapnel inward. The shield carrier then rushed inside first, heavy steel plate in one hand and nine millimeter sidearm in the other. The room he stepped in was the main hall of the tower, usually used for receptions or as a mess hall for the guards. All the torches used to light the room had been extinguished by the blast, leaving only shadows trying to find cover behind simple barricades of wooden furniture.
One after the other, the commandos followed, raising their rifles and firing at the first sight of a hostile figure. The silenced gunshots echoed on the walls of cold stone as desperate guards fell to the ground one after the other, unable to fight back. When silence returned, six bodies were on the floor and two columns of soldiers swept the room from the side, careful not to let anyone hide.
« Clear. »
« Clear. »
« Ground level clear. »
At the far end of the hall, two sets of small stairs opposed each other. On the left, one dived inside the earth to the many cells of the prison. On the right, the steps went upwards to the upper floors of the tower. When the two columns reached the base, the leaders of the Legionnaires turned to Sergei.
« That's where we split, he said with his distinct South American accent. Good hunting. »
After a nod, Sergei gestured the Fantômes to move up the stairs, Soul on point, while the others walked down the other way. Carefully, they made sure to put their feet at the right places on each step, keeping their weapons up at the ready towards any angle.
The first floor was another hall, similar in shape to the previous one. However, the stacks of chests, racks and crates made it clear of its use as a storage room. A quick sweep was unsuccessful, and the operators quickly moved on to the next floor.
There was just a simple curved corridor surrounding a set of cells at the center of the tower. If intelligence they had gathered was to be believed, this is where all those that had to be isolated from the rest were supposed to be. But each of the tight spaces was empty, and no guards were present either.
« Moving to the last floor. »
With the same care, they walked the last few steps. But with a locked door now before them, they had to change plans a bit. As small charges were laid on the thick wood panel, the sound of heavy footsteps and panicked voices made it clear what was waiting for them. When the breaching explosives detonated, all it took was the flash of a single concussion grenade to incapacitate all the guards standing at the ready. Then, it was only a matter of a few rifle shots.
The room they walked in was the main living and working area for the apartment of the warden. Each of the walls of the room was covered in shelves filled with documents and records, with only two doors leading to other rooms. But out of all the bodies they had encountered so far, none matched the description. Instead, all were guards, most likely tasked to protect their leader to the very end.
Another set of hand signals split the group of four operators in two, with Soul and Fünf assigned to the door on their right. This time there were no locks, and a simple kick from the foot was enough to bash the panel open. The room they walked in was smaller and not lit, forcing them to stop to turn on their helmet flashlights while being them, they could hear the struggle as Sergei zip tied the hands of the warden that had tried to lock himself in his bedroom.
In the beams of the torches, they could see that the room was mainly empty of human presence. On the side: a desk, a shelf with another set of documents. And then at the back, a set of wooden tools.
Torture tools.
« Clear. »
Without any threats, both lowered their weapons, waiting for instructions.
« Thunderhead, Fantôme Actual. Objective Bastille is clear. Kingfish is in custody. Negative on Cocktail. Over. »
« Copy that. You have ten minutes for gather all the intel you can. Out. »
« You heard the man, I want all the relevant records, plans, letters in a bag in less than ten mikes. »
All nodded as they turned to look for any interesting bits of information. And while Fünf quickly went through parchments laying on the shelf, Soul curiously examined the torture devices. He could only imagine how a subject would be attached with leather straps and metal chains while wooden levers would force their bodies in painful positions. Next to them were a somewhat standard array of handheld tools, whips, batons and knifes hanging on the wall.
In closer inspection, small layers of dried body fluids over the edges of the objects. It was a witness of the pain that had been inflicted in this room, but it was hard for him to really sympathize. It was not the first time he walked inside a torture room during a raid, and it was far from being the dirtiest he had seen. With time, he had learned to ignore instinctive reactions and do his job in the best way possible.
Or at least it was until he noticed a bundle of hair, stuck by dried blood on the top of one of the devices. Carefully, he leaned to take a closer look under the light of his electric torch. And the distinct red color left no doubt as to who had been tortured here.
« Hey did you find any… »
Fünf raised his head from the parchments while he asked his question, but he stopped as he watched his partner storm out of the room.
« Where the fuck is she ? »
Soul barked the question at the warden, lying on the floor of the central room with his hand tied behind his back. The two other operators watched on as he grabbed the fat man by the collar and brought him back to his feet.
« Wha… What… Who are you talking about ? »
The man was confused, only understanding half of the words from the angry voice. And this did not help Soul calm down. Instead, he showed the bundle of hair in front of the warden.
« Don't fuck with me, you know exactly who the fuck I'm talking about ! Where is she ? »
« I… I… I know you do not torture your prisoners. I… I will not say anything to you cowardly barbarians. »
Soul turned his head to Sergei who gave him a positive nod. The next second, his reinforced glove violently hit the warden's face.
« Who the hell said that you were our prisoner ? »
« Hey, wake up. »
The kick in his side threw Anthony right out of his sleep. The first few seconds were of confusion, trying to understand where and when he was and what was going on. The doubt over the first two questions were quickly answered as his blurry vision focused back on the columns of one of the many reception salons of the Jade Palace turned barracks. Through the windows, the sky was slowly turning lighter but sunrise had yet to occur.
As for his last question…
« Jordan ? What is going on ? »
« We have a situation at the front. You better see what it is. »
The Lieutenant yawned as he stood up from the camp bed he had been lying on. It was far from being the best sleep he ever had, but it was still sleep nonetheless. He quickly slid himself into his bulletproof jacket, picked up his rifle and followed the Sergeant.
« What happened while I was asleep ? »
« Not much. We sent warning shots to the recon guys they sent from time to time. Would have woken you up anyway if there was a big assault. »
The corridors of the Palace were empty. Only the sound of the combat boots echoed on the clean walls.
« Any update from Trevis ? »
« Well… I don't really know, but from what I heard some of the injured knights did not make it. »
« Well shit… Did she at least managed to get some rest ? »
« I doubt it. She kept saying something about how the Saderan doctors would start chopping off limbs left and right and making things worse with the hygiene. »
Anthony sighed heavily. They were not out of the bullshit yet and he could not afford to lose anyone, especially not their medic. But it was an issue for another time as they entered the main reception hall overlooking the front plaza, infamous for the attempted assassination of the Emperor. With the Red Rose in enemy custody, the White Rose at Alnus and the Yellow Rose out of action due to injuries,
command had fallen down in the hands of Beefeater E Caty. In Bozes' own words, she was supposed to be one of the most dedicated but also a bit hot headed.
« Ah, here you finally are, Sir Moreau. »
Her voice strangely felt like it was full of excitement, but the situation was too serious for Anthony to really notice. It was obvious she was not going to ask for an all-out assault as she was not wearing her armor.
« What is the situation ? »
« Take a look for yourself. »
She pointed to the balcony. And as an image is worth a thousand words, the Lieutenant simply followed her lead. As he stepped into the cold air, he had a good view of what had become a no man's land between the defensive line of the Knights at the front of the Palace and the siege line over the front gate. In the dusty space in between the lines were the remains of unsuccessful assaults, both human and material. But what caught his eye was one man, alone, slowly advancing towards them.
He was wearing a uniform of the Wolf Guard and carrying an ornate sword. The manner in which he was carrying it made it even more confusing. Both of his arms were stretched forward horizontally, firmly holding the sheath of his blade in front of him, handle pointing toward the sky. It was only when he reached the middle of the courtyard that he stopped. With a large movement, he took the sword out of its container before sticking the sharp tip in the ground and resting his hands on the handle. He then stood there, looking directly at the Palace, much to Anthony's confusion.
« What is he doing ? »
« He is asking for us to lay down our weapons in front of him. »
Beefeater's reply was striking to all those that did not know. Jordan just chuckled.
« He wants us to surrender ? The guy has some balls. »
« He has us surrounded after all, Sir Clark. For now, they have the advantage. »
« Yeah we'll see about that. Are the microphones still plugged into the speakers ? »
Anthony's question was quickly answered by nods. And it was with one of them in hand that he stepped outside again, looking straight at the Wolf. Even from that distance, the two could still look themselves in the eyes.
And after a few seconds, the tone of speakers turning on was his cue to start.
« Have you come to discuss a surrender ? »
The Lieutenant's question turned a few heads behind him, but this did not prevent the Wolf from giving an answer. With a powerful voice, he replied.
« I am Praetor Rufus, and in the name of the Crown Prince, I ask for weapons to be laid. »
Anthony smiled.
« I am deeply sorry, Praetor. But I do not think that we have enough manpower and resources to accept your surrender. »
The silence that followed was precisely the wanted result as people on both sides of the front line stood confused.
« No… This is not… »
« Ah it is not ? So no surrender ? Very well. Then I hope we will have other opportunities to talk, Praetor. I wish you an exceptionally good day. »
Without waiting for a reply, Anthony turned around and walked off the balcony, knowing that he had been heard by all the men under the Praetor's orders. And if that was not going to be a kick in their morale, then he did not know what would.
Inside the Palace, the reactions were a bit different. While some stood in that same confusion, others had perfectly understood what it was all about. As for Beefeater, she was laughing.
« I like the way you think, Sir Moreau. Sent that dog back to his line with the tail between his legs. »
« What is this ? An Embassy Too Far ? » mumbled Jordan, shaking his head in disbelief.
But Anthony ignored the remark from the Sergeant as he immediately started to give new orders.
« Alright, if it pissed them off as much as I think it did, we are not going to wait long for them to launch another assault. I want all the combat ready personnel on defensive positions. »
« But what about your reinforcements ? Are they not supposed to help us ? »
« Well they won't be of much help if they arrive and they find the building burning down, will they ? »
« Then I hope that they will hurry up. We might be able to contain an assault, but not two of them. »
« I know. We probably have the same problem with ammunition anyway… »
« I see. Then we shall stand our grand as long as it is necessary. »
With her advisors and subordinates behind her, Beefeater left the room to get herself prepared and to give orders of her own. This left only Anthony and Jordan, looking over the now empty courtyard.
« We're fucked, aren't we ? »
« Not yet. »
« My lord, I have some bad news. Some horrible news ! »
As Zorzal woke up from his sleep, these words from a panicked looking officer of the Wolf Guard were not putting him on the right foot.
« What is it this time ? » he groaned as he stood up from his bed.
The Wolf turned his look away from the Crown Prince. The night wear did not conceal the bruises, witnesses of a shameful display of weakness on that night. But he did not care, making his way to a jar of wine on a nearby table
« It… The flying machines… The French flying machines are back. »
« So what ? Send the wyverns after them ! Do you really need orders to do this ? Incompetent fools. »
« This is not the issue, my Lo… »
« Then what is it ? »
Zorzal's angry interruption caused the Wolf to swallow his saliva before replying.
« The stables… have been destroyed. »
« What ? »
« Two of those machines dived down towards the wyvern stables… Their roar… No, their growl… Everything went up in clouds of smoke. »
The Prince did not move, staring directly into his own reflection on the surface of wine.
« But did you not look at the fires from the mountains ? »
« We did, my lord. But the fires never lit up. They are still not, even as we speak. »
The cup quickly went flying across the room from a throw made in a fit of rage.
« May they all be cursed ! »
The Wolf did not dare to say anything or move. He did not even dare to look at the Prince breathing heavily. Even in the cold morning, sweat had already started to roll down Zorzal's body.
The sun had not fully passed over the horizon, yet everything was already going wrong.
« Summon all the generals in this palace. I want them in my work room at once. »
« Very well, my lord. »
The Guard turned around and quickly walked out of the room, the door heavily ringing as it closed again. His heart was beating at an uncomfortable rate and he was already feeling out of breath. The sound of his own respiration was so loud that he did not hear the bed sheet moving.
« Is everything alright, My Lord ? »
In his rage, he had forgotten the fact that he had spent the entire night with Tyuule. Her soothing voice was something he desperately needed, but there was no time.
« Help me dress. I have important matters to attend to. »
With silent confirmation, she left the bed and gathered all the elements lying on the floor and various pieces of furniture. Then with everything in hand and without taking the time to dress herself, she helped Zorzal with all the clothes, leather straps and clips, making him look more like a Crown Prince than an angry drunkard.
And without any word, he left his own room, the sound of his heavy steps fading away into the long corridor. It left Tyuule alone inside the room to dress herself without any help. As she did so, the servants dedicated to house keeping entered to do their work, not caring about the presence of the former queen.
It was with an expensive dress that she silently walked away. None bowed or paid their respects, their cleaning seemingly being more important than her person. Another hit to her pride was not enough to bring her down, however. What would happen next was going to be very important, and she was ready to sacrifice a bit more to see it happen with her own eyes.
All the corridors in the palace felt empty. Apart from the guards, the areas usually busy with the activities of the court were void of people. It was only when she reached the proximity of the Crown Prince's office that she finally came across visitors. All were wearing armors from either the Army or the Wolf Guard, and the overall atmosphere was tense. With her presence, she attracted a few looks, but she carried on all the way to the door and entered unannounced.
« What do you mean they are at the prison ? »
And it seemed like she had entered at just the right moment as Zorzal yelled at yet another Wolf.
« Our scouts have spotted flying machines of the enemy over Basson Prison. Reinforcements have already been ordered to go there, but they have not reached the prison yet. »
« Are the prisoners still in our control ? »
« It... It is impossible to say for now, my lord. If... »
« Then what are you doing here ? Go back and tell those reinforcements to hurry up ! »
« V... Very well, my lord. »
The Wolf turned around and walked out, an uneasy expression on his face. The other soldiers in the room looked concerned, staring at maps and various reports. Zorzal had even ordered for the original descriptions made after the first encounters to be brought to him, in case any details have been missed.
« Is there anything else that has been destroyed that I need to know ? »
The tone of his voice made it clear that the one to announce any bad news would suffer from hard consequences. And when one finally dared to step forward, all the others sighed out of relief.
« For now, those are the only issues, my lord. So far, we are not aware of anything else. »
« Not even from the Praetor ? »
Tyuule's spontaneous question caused all heads to turn toward her. Some had been focused so much they had not even noticed her entering and taking her place behind the Prince.
« The last messenger that arrived said that he would propose an ultimatum before a final assault, but there has not been anything new since. »
« My lord, do not forget that the Praetor made a promise to bring the Ambassador before you by sunrise. As you can see, it has yet to happen. »
Her comment did not help calm down the situation.
« If he manages to bring him alive anyway, I might be able to forgive him. Make sure that any reinforcements he might request are delivered to him on a short notice. »
« It shall be done. »
While the Wolf voiced his acknowledgment of the order, Zorzal turned back to the map of the city that had been laid before him. On it, the small pawns of wood had been placed all over to locate their troops throughout the capital. However, the small figures shaped like wyverns, placed where the various stables were, had been toppled over.
The other elements present on the map were tiny banners, quickly sewed together from scraps of blue, white and red cloth to represent the French troops and their holdings. This obviously included the Embassy in the Jade Palace, but another one had also been placed over Collina Meridiana. The suspicions of French presence in the locked down section of the city had yet to be proven true, but this risk had to be taken very seriously.
« Have they deployed any troops yet ? »
« For now, only their flying machines have attacked us, My Lord. And even if the mountain fires have not been lit up, we could see their troops come in from our watchtowers. »
« Then what are they trying to achieve ? If they attack us now by air, but without sending any infantry or cavalry, where does it get them ? They are not helping those at the embassy. »
In a dash of clarity, Zorzal voiced out the main question that all inside of that room could not find an answer to. After all, if what they wanted was to invade the city, they would need much more than just a few flying machines.
« It could be another warning of theirs, suggested one of the generals. They have done it once with the Senate and it is probable that they are in the capacity to do it again to pressure us into a retreat. »
While some nods seemed to indicate that several other generals agreed to the idea, most of the audience remained unconvinced and confused. Even the Prince paid little attention to the idea.
But once again, it was Tyuule that voiced the right idea.
« Or maybe this is but mere preparations for later invasion. Without the wyverns, the speed and range of our scouts has been greatly reduced and the skies above us are free for them to roam without more fighting. With that, they can repeat the invasion of Italica at an even larger scale in this city. »
A cold tone whispered directly into his ear by his trusted advisor was all that was needed for Zorzal to be convinced.
« Which means that we have to prepare more of our defenses at once ! »
With this statement, planning for such a plan quickly started. This was something that many of the generals within the room had much experience in. And most saw it as the opportunity to prove their worth to the Crown Prince.
As for Tyuule, she just stood aside, waiting to hear any interesting details. It was one of the advantages of the most recognizable feature of her species. But the discussion quickly proved to be uninteresting as some tried to get their Legions at specific locations for the sake of their own personal prestige.
So she just turned around to look through the main window of the office. The slowly rising sun gave a special atmosphere to the city as the colored light bounced on the various buildings and statues. In the streets, the people had already started their day, going out and about in their daily tasks, unaware of the tense political situation.
But it was at this point that she heard something. Some faint rumble that only she could hear, coming from the south. At first, she was not sure of what it was exactly. And her curiousness was so much that she stepped on the balcony of the room. And as she turned her head towards the far mountains, she saw the source of the noise closing in on the city.
And she smiled.
The heavy droning of the propeller engines had been going on for several hours now, all of them tightly packed and heavy bags weighing on their shoulders. But this was the least of their concerns. In comparison, those were nothing compared to what they were about to accomplish.
With a few cargo planes and a few hundred paratroopers, they would mark history.
While the American Hercules continuously dropped all the cargo needed in the many support operations, a formation of all the French transport available was closing in on Sadera Hills. In total, it was five planes and three hundred soldiers with some air support against an entire army.
Perfect work for the Légion.
« Thunderhead, Condor One. Approaching point Alpha. Drop zone in sight. All clear on visual, over. »
« Copy that, Condor. You are cleared to proceed. Thunderhead, out. »
The clearance was quickly relayed between the lead Hercules and the surrounding four Transalls. Inside the metal bellies of each plane, rows of similarly equipped men from all walks of life, lanyards
hooked to the guiding wire, were waiting for their moment as the crew members finished final checks.
« Pilot to Drop Master, wind is two six zero for ten knots. Open doors. »
With precise hand movements, the Drop Master standing on the slope of closed back door relayed the order to the droppers under his orders. And in sync, the small panels were risen up to give way to the void below.
« Drop Master to Pilot, doors open. Three packages, sixty paratroopers. Ready to drop. »
« Copy. Standby. »
Slowly, the plane made one last turn to line up with the drop area. With that many men, it was a strip of clear land almost two kilometers in length that was needed, and there were not many things that fit that description apart from farmland, two kilometers north of their target.
And so, one after the other, each plane flew over this section of land with the same procedure.
« Pilot to Drop Master, drop in ten seconds. »
« Drop Master copies, ten seconds. »
With another set of gestures, the Drop Master relayed the information to all the others in the cabin. Carefully, the droppers brought along the different packages to be dropped first containing the heavy equipment. Then, for a few long seconds, it was waiting.
« Five, four, three, two, one, green. »
In an instant, the small colored lights turned from red to green, a buzzer rang inside the cargo area and everything got into motion. First, the packages containing the heaviest pieces of equipment were thrown overboard by the droppers. And when this was done and the way was clear, the first in each line waddled in front of the door and jumped into the void.
Immediately after, the lanyard still hooked to the metal wire inside the plane pulled on the opening mechanism of the parachute. The large piece of spherical cloth widened thanks to the force of the air, slowing down the fall of each paratrooper. Quickly after that, the next paratrooper in line did the same, and then the next. This only ended when the last soldier finally left the plane, leaving behind only the plane and drop crew.
« Red. »
« Red confirmed. Condor One One, drop complete. »
And after enough time passed to create a safe buffer, the second plane in the queue passed overhead to repeat the same actions. In less than a few minutes, the usually calm sky was filled with men gliding to the ground.
« Condor One Two, drop complete. »
« Condor Two One, drop complete. »
« Condor Two Two, drop complete. »
And with that, doors were closed and the planes turned around back towards the south, uncaring as to what those below might have thought. As for the Legionnaires, the first to jump was also the first to land, going through all the moves needed to ensure a safe touchdown and to remain vulnerable for the smallest amount of time.
As required, parachutes were discarded, packages were secured and teams reunited under their chain of command. From men covered in heavy bags, the Legionnaires had now become warfighters ready
to accomplish their mission.
« Thunderhead, this is Fakir. All troops are one the ground. No casualties. Ready to proceed, over. »
« Understood, Fakir. Cleared to go on with the rescue operation. Thunderhead, out. »
« Contact left ! Contact left ! »
« I got it ! »
The moral boost from hearing and seeing the planes fly overhead had quickly died down. The enemy knew that it was running out of time, and it had no more choice than to launch one final assault with everything it had.
So, just as before, the gunfire was ringing in between the clean stone and the trees, the army of sword and lances advancing quicker than the bullets were bringing them down. And the only thing that now stood between them and the Embassy was a thick defensive line of knights.
« Brace for impact ! »
But Beefeater's instruction was drowned in the war cry of the attackers as they closed the final gap. At first, fire from entrenched positions had thinned their numbers enough that the first knights in line could take care of them rather easily with their better training and equipment. But it did not last long until the first of the roses fell on the ground because of an injury.
Then from time to time, a shower of arrows would cover the battlefield, striking down on all without distinction. And while the knights that could not fight could easily retreat inside the Jade Palace to be treated and rest, the Imperial soldiers under the orders of the Wolf Guard only had the dusty ground to bleed out on.
« Report ! »
Anthony was already out of breath when he arrived near the front door. All around him, old men and young women in armor were either being helped out of the fight or readying themselves to jump into it.
« We are holding out so far, but it is not going to last. If it goes for much longer, I will no longer have able-bodied fighters and I will have to order the injured to go back to the fight. »
« Do you think they can handle everything at close range ? Because right now I don't want to risk any friendly fire. »
« I... I cannot say. If you at least can reduce their numbers as much as you can and take care of these archers, it would at least be something. But if your reinforcements do not arrive soon... »
« I know, I know. They are on their way ! I can't do much right now, I don't even have their estimated time of arrival. »
« Then tell them to hurry up ! »
Beefeater turned her focus away to the fighting and Anthony walked away. Things were not as easy as telling them to walk faster. The fact that they had to cross a gate in the city walls to reach the Embassy was already an unknown variable as none could say if the Wolf Guard had decided to take it over or leave the Rose Knights stationed there alone.
Upstairs, the situation was not much better. Makeshift barricades had been built up to close the windows as much as possible, only leaving small gaps for barrels of rifles to stick through. And for all,
it was a balancing act between trying to prevent more enemies from joining the brawl and preserving the few magazines of ammunition they had left. Same thing with the archers of the Order as their stockpile of arrows dwindled in a similar fashion.
And as Anthony passed along to give his instructions and see how things were going, all gave him the same feeling. At this rate and without reinforcements, they would not see the end of the day.
But just as they were ordered, all changed their targets from the charging crowd to the archers at the back. This stopped the regular showers of arrows, and through his binoculars the Lieutenant could see the Wolves acting up behind their own barricades. The wanted affect had been achieved, but it seemed that another objective had been achieved without wanting to as one member of the Guard blew in a horn.
The deep sound reached over the gunfire to all those fighting, and seeing what the Imperial soldier did after hearing made the meaning of this signal obvious.
Retreat.
« Do not follow them ! No pursuit ! »
None of the knights disobeyed Beefeater's order. They were given time to rest by their opponent and trying to push further would only have resulted in lost resources and more casualties. This time was much better used to lick their wounds, repair shields and barricades and take care of the fallen. At this point, an entire room had been reserved for bodies, lying on the ground under pieces of cloth in respect.
But this meant the other side also had given himself time to prepare something else, and knowing what would be valuable to the defenders.
« What's the status of the drone ? » Anthony asked in his radio as he continued to watch the field with his binoculars.
After a short wait, the voice from one of the soldiers from the other squad assigned to the Embassy replied.
« Charged up to ninety percent of its battery capacity, sir. »
« Well then send it up and keep an eye out for what they are planning. »
« Right away, sir. »
The high pitch sound of the quickly spinning propellers filled the air over the roof of the Palace as one of the soldiers picked up the small plane shaped UAV. And after insuring the link between the onboard sensors and the control screen was stable, the drone was sent on its way. A simple throw was enough to generate the initial amount of lift needed for the small engines to take over.
The buzzing quickly faded while the drone went up in the sky above into a circular orbit pattern over the enemy line. But through the foliage of the trees, not much could be seen but the vague shapes of thermal signatures through the leaves.
With the constantly changing angle, some details could be seen only at certain moments. And there was only one thing to see in the main passage through the forest. The information was quickly transmitted to the Lieutenant to decide what had to be done. And what had to be done was to signal it out to command. He ran through the corridor to the room in which the long-range radio had been stored and grabbed the microphone.
« Thunderhead, this is Recon Three Actual. Hostiles are bringing in heavy weaponry carried by ogres. We need immediate support before they can set them up. »
« Copy that, Recon Three. Huh... Wait one. »
The light hesitation in the voice of the radio operator did not help reassure Anthony. Each second that passed was another second gained by the Wolf Guard.
Outside, three catapults were slowly advancing up the road towards the Jade Palace. The beasts pulling them were real advantages to any force that could tame and take care of them. The Empire was one such force, using their raw strength not only to fight, but also to pull and carry heavy loads more quickly to take advantage of an enemy's lack of preparation or to arrive faster than enemy reinforcements. But there was something else they had not taken into account.
« Recon Three, you have Striker Three One, flight of two currently on pattern at Angels Five. »
« Recon copies all. Out. Striker Three One from Recon Three, standby for information. »
A small pause.
« Striker, standing by. »
The slightly distorted voice was a relief to the Lieutenant and all those that could hear the communication. Maybe everything was not as desperate as they thought.
« Requesting close air support. Targets are heavy weaponry on the road south of our position. Friendlies inside the Palace. Danger close. »
There was another second of silence.
« Striker has contact on all. Moving into heading One Seven Five. Danger close. »
With that, Anthony put the microphone down and picked up his own personal device, linked to the internal net of the Embassy.
« Be advised, we have a strike incoming to the south. Everyone at the front better take cover. »
Beyond the barricades and the no man's land, there was just as much agitation within the ranks of those loyal to the Crown Prince. In a situation with such an advantage in numbers, any soldier injured or killed is wasted manpower that raises the odds of the outnumbered. This was why they had decided to call upon the catapults.
But with the terrifying sight of the giant machines flying overhead and dropping flying men in the hundreds, the time they had on their hands was limited. And the Praetor was very much vocal about it.
« Hurry up ! The shields to the front, archers to the back ! »
« Praetor ! »
The voice of one of the scouts interrupted him as he gave instructions.
« What is it, boy ? »
« The knights are backing off ! They are backing off towards the Palace. »
Rufus had a hard time believing the young soldier. But when he stepped on the barricade itself to look, his own eyes proved that the scout's words were truthful. The knights had not taken the opportunity to use the more open space to set up more effective defensive lines. Instead, they were tightening their position around the building. And in those unconventional times, unconventional tactics could only mean one thing.
The French were about to do something.
« Do you hear this ? »
A faint thundering rumble.
Growing louder with each passing second.
And a message that none on this side of the battle could hear.
« Striker off safe. Guns guns guns. »
The rumble became deafening when the machines appeared over the Palace.
And all disappeared in the roar of the GAU-8 Avenger autocannon.
Each armor piercing and high explosive round cut through wood, metal and flesh before impacting the ground, kicking off a cloud of dust in its wake. But there was barely any time for confusion or fear for the survivors as another one passed overhead.
« Guns guns guns. »
The same roar, the same cloud of white smoke coming from its mouth and the same destruction on the ground. In but a few moments, the ogres and the siege weapons they were carrying had been reduced to an indescribable pile of wood and gore.
« Praetor ? »
« I... I... I am fine... »
Through the dust, they could only cough. The smell of burnt flesh was now the new element overpowering their senses. But there were also the screams and the sight of the horrible injuries they could see. And while all those not directly next to the targeted ogres were remained unscathed, the confusion quickly spread throughout the entire present force of the Wolf Guard.
As for inside the Embassy, the mood was the complete opposite.
« Good splash, Striker ! Good splash ! Targets eliminated. That helps us a lot. Recon Three out. »
But as he was about to put the microphone down, a slight smile of relief on his face, another message started to come through the long-range radio.
« Recon Three, this is Fakir. Allied forces incoming from the north of your position. Do you read ? »
And just like that, his smile widened even more.
Carefully and with good distance between them, the Legionnaires were advancing through the forest at a good pace. The fact that the gate to the city was still under allied control had been a relief, cutting down on wasted fighting time and putting the rescue operation ahead of schedule.
The terrain was dangerous and the visibility low. The enemy could be everywhere. The clock was ticking.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
« Actual, Two One. Visual contact on hostiles. Fifty meters south. »
Out in the open, the ranks of archers and swordsmen were aligned in ranks, turned towards the Embassy. And with their backs facing the forest, the camouflaged soldiers remained undetected.
« Understood. Keep position and do not open fire. »
They could not only see them, but they could also hear them. Panicked officers trying to get their
scared men back into position, completely unaware of what was about to happen to them. At the back of the pack, the screams of the injured being roughly treated on the dusty ground added to the overall confusion.
But for the Légionnaires that knew where to look, they could see the other squads slowly getting into position at the edge of the tree line. Under the shadow of the leaves, they were barely visible. All that was needed now was the word.
« Two Two in position. »
« One Four in position. »
« Two Three in position. »
Each squad sent its own radio message as it reached the planned location.
« Actual to all. Standby for green light. »
Using trees and bushes as cover, all the barrels were pointed towards the enemy. Hearts were starting to beat faster and faster, waiting for the rest of the plan to proceed. Plan that included message sent over megaphones.
« To all troops attacking the French Embassy, you are surrounded. Put down your weapons and walk away ! »
Those words were repeated several times by soldiers at different points of the line. The effects of these messages were devastating within the ranks of the Wolf Guard. All were startled, turning around in confusion. Without any reference, they could not see who were those speaking or where they were.
« This is our first warning ! »
The deep and heavy voice, along with the heavy foreign accent, made the announcement even more terrifying for the scared men within the ranks. Either they fought, or they fled. And for some, the latter felt like the better option. At first, they were only a few, throwing away their weapons on the ground and running away from the trees. The Wolves, suddenly powerless, could only threaten the cowards and yell for the rest to turn back around to face their new enemies.
« This is our second warning ! Surrender now ! »
Another group followed, and this time the Guard had no other choice but to put their threats into actions to make examples out of those that refused to fight. So most remained under the orders of their zealous officers, a death in battle being more honorable than a death of cowardice.
« This is our final warning ! We will open fire ! »
« Archers ! »
The order was yelled by the Wolves as loudly as they could in a last attempt to boost morale. The bowmen each picked an arrow and pulled the string on their bows, pointing them towards the sky.
And then the order finally arrived.
« Actual to all Fakir elements. You are cleared to engage. Clear to engage. »
Death rained again on the troops of the Crown Prince as those on the front rows fell to the ground, their life stolen away by the piercing pain of full metal jacket ammunition.
« By Emroy ! Char... »
The Wolf could not finish to yell his order. In the blink of an eye, his brain ceased all functions and his body lost balance, blood covering what used to be his face. And for all those that were under his order, this only made them even more terrified. And without leadership, morale plummeted.
« Run ! Run for your lives ! »
As they started to flee, the Légionnaires followed them to flush them out. All of that under the eyes of those stuck within the walls of the Palace. And through the windows, the soldiers could hear the cheers.
Confusion and speed made the reinforcements' task even easier as they entered the breached perimeter and progressed over the helipad and through the garden. Carefully, they checked behind every bush and statue for any fighter trying to hide for a strike, but the most they could find were injured conscripts that had dragged themselves out of the way to die.
Then, as some of the squads kept their positions to secure the area, others kept pushing off to each side of the Palace. At this point, the sounds and sights of these soldiers advancing and firing their weapons at the Wolf Guard was enough to force the rest to go the other way. But some still tried to have their moment of glory by trying to bring down one of the men in green.
All failed.
« Praetor ! We must fall back ! »
« I will not falter... I... I must face my death head on ! »
In an adrenalin fueled craze, he stepped forward against the flow of his fleeing men. Slowly, he raised his sword and jumped off the barricade, his look straight towards the main entry of the Palace. He watched as the line of knights at the bottom of the stairs split up. He watched as a group of horses appeared from beyond the front doors. He watched as they rushed down the steps. And he watched as they charged in his direction.
War cries.
Sword swings.
And his body fell on the ground. Beheaded.
The battle was now lost for the Guard, and won for the Order. Cheers of victory erupted from everywhere inside the Palace as Beefeater returned on her horse, holding by the hair the head of the enemy leader. And the Légionnaires continued to clear the area and to secure a wide enough perimeter.
All this calm and quiet felt surreal to all within the Recon Teams. Suddenly, they were no longer in danger. After that, one of the Légion officers formally approached and made contact to plan out the evacuation. And shortly after, the first Chinooks started to circle overhead and landing on the limited spaces available.
First, the injured and the remaining civilians were loaded onto the cargo bays. Those that only needed light treatment were carried to the newly created Firebase Chicago, north of the mountains, while those in a more critical state were brought back straight to Alnus.
Then, it was the turn of the body bags. As they were carried inside, knights created a guard of honor to pay their final respects to the victorious dead. Finally, it was the last remaining soldiers that boarded. With tired stares and exhausted relief, all the soldiers of Recon Three watched on as the helicopter flew away.
And on the roof of the Palace, the same tricolor banner floating in the light wind. Some had been willing to die to bring it down or to keep it flying.
And now, full out war had begun again over it.
Hello and thank you for reading the thirty-seventh chapter of Gate : Opération Marteau de Justice.
It's been quite a wild ride to write all of this down. I've had a lot of ideas about this for a while now, and I'm really happy that you can now all enjoy it. Not much is left in what I have planned, but you will have to wait again.
Anyway, thank you all for reading, and I'll see you in the next chapter.