I found Boyesen in the cafeteria, chatting with Lambert and Deveraux.
I was hungry anyways, so I went to one of the food servers, who served me with an odd sort of meat called "Spam", some beans and a cup of coffee.
I have had better meals out in the wild, but this was acceptable to my palate.
I sat down at Boyesen's table and said "hi" to everyone, who likewise said "hi" back to me.
Eating was kind of awkward because I had to be careful not to show my face to anyone here, either.
"Why not just take off your face mask?" asked Lambert.
"I can't do that, Captain Lambert," I said. "I know that it's not comfortable eating like this, but I'll deal with it."
The "Spam" tasted a bit odd, like some unknown type of ham, but like I mentioned earlier, it was good enough.
In between bites, I had some questions for Boyesen and his deputies:
"You say that the war's not over yet, Major. Why do you say this?
"Because," he replied, "there are still a lot of tanks fighting out there. Also, remember all those tank companies and clans you've encountered?"
"Yes?" I replied.
"There are still more members and tanks in a lot of these clans, not just the ones you defeated in battle."
"Ah, that makes sense."
To tell the truth, it did make perfect sense.
After all, I had fought Die Apfel Korps twice when I was traveling through the desert.
Also, I had to fight the Soviet-American Alliance twice on my excursion into Scandinavia: Once when I was first entering Karelia, and another time when I was coming home from Norway, not counting any stragglers I encountered coming back from my first time heading to the Mannerheim Line.
Of course, we certainly can't forget the good old Red Wolves.
After all, they had lots of personnel working for them, in addition to a large motor pool.
Now, the next question:
"What do you know about this 'Manhattan Project', Major?"
Major Boyesen was silent for a few seconds until he responded: "Sorry, but I am not at liberty to discuss that with you, soldier."
"Is it really that big of a deal?" I asked.
"I said, I am not at liberty to discuss that subject," he replied. "Now please, can we move on to another matter?"
I guess the major was truly uncomfortable discussing that one.
That, or it was top secret, which got me all the more curious.
In the interest of not antagonizing Boyesen, though, I asked him this instead:
"Major, I've been wondering: What exactly is a 'Yayax'?"
"It's a mysterious beast," replied Boyesen. "We don't know much about it, other than the fact that it's said to live in forests and eats tanks."
I do remember seeing some sort of beast depicted on Yayax Squad's logo that appeared to be eating a tank. No doubt this was it.
"I think I ran into something like that once," added Deveraux. "It was April 1943, I think. I was operating in an Alpine forest somewhere in Italy when my Sherman was hit by some tank I couldn't see. My tank survived, but barely. Another shot wrecked the thing, killing some of my men. Damn, I was lucky I even survived!"
"Captain Deveraux, I think I might know the identity of this hidden killer," I said.
"Really?" asked Deveraux. "What is it?"
"I'm not sure, but I think your tank was destroyed by a Tiger tank. I've seen these make short work of T-34s before, and maybe a Sherman or two."
"Holy crap! I never even had a chance against him! Do you know how many Shermans it takes to kill that kind of steel?"
"No, I have never calculated that. I may do so when I have the time, though."
"Well congratulations, Bryan!" exclaimed Lambert. "It takes some real nerve to go up against a Tiger with a Sherman and live!"
"Yes, very good," I said. "Now, let us move on to another topic. Major, have you heard of an individual going by the name of 'W.G.'?"
"No, not that I can think of," replied Boyesen. "Why?"
"Well, I have something important to show you."
"Can it wait until after I finish my meal?"
"I'm not too sure. I'd hate to interrupt you, but on the other hand, I don't know how much longer we can go on without showing you."
"Well, all right. What do you have?"
I showed Boyesen the communiqués I'd intercepted from "W.G.", including the bulletin about me.
"Interesting. But what does this…"
All of a sudden, Kolbasyev came rushing in.
"Major! Major!" he exclaimed. "You're not going to believe this, but we're getting a flurry of messages from this one source!"
"Do you have any copies of these messages?" asked Boyesen.
"Yes, in fact, I have one right here."
Kolbasyev handed over the intercepted message, which was as follows:
"Agent 644:
You should now be directing further attention towards the western sector. Enemy military forces of varying national origins have been making swift and aggressive incursions from the northern part of this sector in the past few months, and my estimations show that the resulting infighting that will result from this influx of forces will be highly detrimental to our objectives. If such infighting is allowed to fester any further, then we will lose the serpentine grip that we have exerted over this territory. Make use of your most elite units and do not hesitate to requisition help from our other agents. If we can curtail these forays into our territory, then we shall be better prepared to consolidate our remaining assets.
Even if our situation seems dire, remember: We are the true ones. Our clan shall prevail in the end.
-With regards,
W.G."
Afterwards, I spoke up:
"Comrades, this is all a ruse."
"How can you be so sure?" asked Kolbasyev.
"Capitan Kolbasyev's right," added Boyesen. "How do you know that?"
I told them about "W.G."'s grand plan to get various tankers to eliminate each other and take over the world.
"Oh my god!" exclaimed Lambert.
"Holy crap!" exclaimed Deveraux.
"How can this be going on!?" wondered Kolbasyev.
"That's terrible," said Boyesen, who also added: "But do you have any proof?"
"Believe me, Major," I began, "I have analyzed the manifestos of tank companies working for W.G. and I have found some of them to be incompatible with each other. I have even brought a few copies here myself! Please, have a look!"
It was true, I did have copies of the manifestos for the Red Wolves and Holy Roman Alliance with me at this moment.
In fact, I had collected at least one copy of a manifesto from every tank company & clan that I had fought as proof of their defeat.
The one exception was the Red Wolves.
I did get some copies of their manifesto, but I had procured these during my escape from their secret headquarters as proof that I had escaped from them.
Their first defeat did not come until later.
Now, everyone seemed to be satisfied with this evidence, but Lambert asked, "Wait, wouldn't they be putting those differences aside and working together to rule the world?"
"No no no, Captain Lambert," I replied. "Believe me, the Red Wolves are too devoted to their cause. They would never permit any incursion onto Soviet soil, and once they found out their comrades' true intentions, that's when W.G.'s plan will come into action."
"Then there's no question," said Boyesen. "Gentlemen, come with me, we're going on full alert!"
Suddenly, a French officer came running up to Boyesen.
"Monsieur Boyesen," he said, "you must read this! It's important!"
"How important is this, L'Heroux?" replied Boyesen. "Can it wait?"
"Non, it is a clan challenge!"
"Very well, give it to me, then."
In this world, clans often issued challenges to one another.
Basically, a challenge announced a clan's intent to try to invade the territory of the clan they were challenging.
It was considered very rude for a clan to reject a challenge, for they might be seen as cowards.
In the meantime, Kolbasyev told me, "By the way, comrade, this is Marechal des Logis Armand L'Heroux. He is part of my division."
"How do you do?" I said.
"Ça va bien. It is good to meet you!" he replied as we shook hands. "That is a fantastic uniform you have! Where did you get it?"
"I made it myself," I replied, "but I'll explain later. Right now, it looks like Boyesen's got something else on his hands, maybe in ours, too."
Speaking of Boyesen, he spoke up:
"Well, soldier, it looks like your little superhero campaign will have to wait."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "The fate of the world rests on this so-called 'superhero campaign'…whatever that means!"
"I know how you feel, soldier," replied Boyesen. "However, I care about this clan, and part of that means that I have to accept challenges from other clans no matter what!"
"Well…okay…I suppose. I do hope that you are prepared to accept the consequences of your actions, anticipated or not."
On the other hand, I was grateful to be going into battle with these folks, especially now that Goliath was refurbished!
Plus, this clan might just get us another shot at "W.G."!
"Well, this is it, men," said Boyesen. "Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!"
Boyesen gathered up his best tankers…well…he gathered up just about all of the tankers in his clan, and we drove off to war.
The clan in question that we were to engage was the 1st Imperial Guards Regiment.
This clan was just one of a number of "guards regiments" that had spawned in just the past couple of months.
Though the exact national composition of each "guards regiment" varied, they had one common goal: Put an end to these dark times.
However, they had questionable motives for wanting to do so.
Heck, since they chose to challenge us, I figured that they must have something else in mind.
Anyways, our battle was to take place at a Cliff, the same Cliff where I had fought The Manhattanists.
When we got there, I couldn't see any corpses of tanks that had belonged to The Manhattanists.
Actually, I'd returned to the same battlefields a number of times only to see that the blown-up hulks of tanks I'd faced had mostly disappeared.
My guess is that there were groups of tank recovery specialists who dragged tanks that were destroyed or inoperable off the battlefields.
That, or people simply tore pieces off of these dead tanks until there was nothing left.
Then again, both cases could be correct.
In any case, when we got there, Boyesen gave us all a message over the radio:
"Fireteam leader Alpha to all units, standard five-by-three formation! Stack up, over!"
Everyone gave an "affirmative" signal and got into position.
Goliath & I were positioned near the center.
For a few minutes, things were quiet.
"Fireteam leader Bravo here, I don't see anything in my sector, over!" said Lambert.
"Fireteam leader Charlie, the situation is normal! All clear in this area, over!" said Deveraux.
About half an hour later, still nobody had showed up.
"Hey, where are these guys?" asked one tanker.
"Yeah, I'm starting to get bored!" said another one.
"Maybe those cowards refused to honor the challenge!" said another.
"Stay sharp, tankers!" said Boyesen, "They'll be coming at any moment! Fireteam leader Alpha out!"
A few minutes more, and nothing happened, until…
A T-54 appeared!
"There's one!" exclaimed a tanker.
However, nobody fired a shot at it before it quickly disappeared behind the large stone formation in the center-west area.
"Why did none of you shoot?" asked another tanker.
"Patience, troops," said Deveraux, "That must have been a diversion!"
"Fireteam leader Charlie is correct," said Boyesen. "Do not, I say again, do not engage targets unless you are positive that they are engaging us and you have a shot!"
Everyone gave an "affirmative" of some sort or other, but some did so reluctantly.
About a minute or so later, a Bat-Chatillon 25-ton showed up and went to the same area that the T-54 drove over too.
Around the same time, that's when the mayhem began.
"Bravo Three, I've been hit!"
"Where did the shot come from?"
"I don't know, I couldn't see him!"
"This is fireteam leader Alpha: All units, fire 'em up! Fireteam leader alpha out!"
So, for the next few minutes, which seemed to slow down a bit due to how intense the battle was, we tried to reduce the 1st Imperial Guards Regiment to scrap metal.
"Get some fire on him!"
"I'M HIT!"
"We got 'em real good!"
"To the left!"
"Fire in the fuel tank!"
"I got the bastard!"
"TAKE THIS!"
"Oh God, we're hit!"
"I think that went right through!"
"Bye bye, bad guy!"
"SOMEONE HELP US OUT OVER HERE!"
"Come on, hold it together!"
"That'll show 'em!"
"Look out, he's a tricky one!"
This sort of chaos continued throughout most of the battle…
Criticism is gold. Negativity and nitpicking are pyrite.