December 1st, 2016 of the Gregorian calendar
Hawk creaked his neck as he and his flight approached the target, a stone viaduct that wasn't strong or wide enough to allow the crossing of MBTs but was vital to supplying the scattered Saderans with food and blankets. "This is Eagle 2-1, we're almost at the bridge. We just have to keep following the trail." He ordered. Then he noticed a long line of dots that stood out of the snow covered landscape like a thumb and he grinned. "There's the pony express people, lit 'em up!" The men and animals below had little time to react before the chain guns turned them all into either red mist or bloodied Swiss cheese.
To further help the carnage was the pass boxed the Saderans in a kill zone where they only could go towards or away from the helicopters, some tried to climb the rocky walls but where cut down just like all the rest. Suddenly, a round ht a wagon, causing a change reaction that turned into a massive explosion. "Holy shit! That was big!" Called out one pilot, "Must've had powder for their guns." Replied Hawk while Talons moved his joystick like someone would playing a video game, aiming to gain as much points or in this case corpses as possible.
Hawks, seeing that they had all but destroyed all supplies, ordered them to back off from the attack and focus on their primary mission. To those lucky few who survived, it was a blessing but the legion down the path would get a similar fate. "This is Eagle 2-4, the bridge is in sight!" The bridge connected the two ends of a ravine with a river at the bottom but most importantly, there was another convoy and it was massive. The whole bridge was clogged and it was perfect. The soldiers saw the metal beasts and like a stampede desperately tried to retreat only to be by to the pilots' shook, stopped by a formation of men in dark purple clocks and wolf head gear.
Hawks then got on the radio and said only three words, "Lite 'em up." Rockets sped to their target and the bridge and all on it were engulfed by the explosions. The viaduct easy gave way and began to collapse, taking down hundreds of men and dozens of ma-nugas with it. "Target destroyed, well done." The flight of Apaches didn't stay long and headed back the other way around towards home. The journey would've been uneventful if it weren't for one incident.
Halfway through the trip, Hawk looked down to his radar peeping and with a shit ton of dots headed his way from behind at a fast speed. "This is Eagle 1-1, we got bandits behind us!" He semi shouted, "Their diving on us." The wyvern had no match for modern jets and anti-air weapons, but if given the right opportunity posed a threat to helicopters, especially transports. "We don't have enough ammo in our chain gun to take them down sir!" Said Eagle 1-3 also known as Archangel, "We got about 300 in ours." Added Eagle 1-2. "Then fucking fire your stingers and get the hell outta here!" Hawks ordered, the four Apaches turned in the direction of the fast approaching wyverns which had their wings tucked and riders barley hanging on by their straps.
"Targets locked!" Reported talons as the helicopter zoned in on four wyverns in a small V inside the larger formation. "Weapons free." The stinger missiles rocketed out of their tubes and the targets over two miles away. In a matter of seconds, sixteen explosions could be seen which indicated the destruction of enemy combatants.
"Good fucking work guys. Let's go!" The pilots waste no time pushing their aircraft to get out of there and away from the bandits despite their best effort to play catch-up. He chuckled as he saw the little dots behind him turn away, unable to compete with the Apache's top speed of 182 mph. "Good job everyone, mission complete."
December 3rd, 2016 of the Gregorian calendar
The blizzard wind howled like wolves at the moon, the swirling masked the presence of four figures crawling through the snow to a vantage point where the massive castle could be seen. They were about eighty miles in enemy territory on the Romalia front where the Americans had great success in, with the western flank conquered and Bellnahgo was threatened but the central and eastern ranges were still in Saderan hands. The CIA through a spy chain in Sadera itself had learned of a person who knew where the lost civilians were; Lord Titus Paa Cotta.
Cotta was the dominus servi commercium or literally in english the master of the slave trade and was at the top of the chain in the ministerium servi commercium. Intel suggested that he was a sadistic sociopath who kept the largest industry on the entire continent running and definitely would have knowledge of the whereabouts of 3,000 people from a another world. The press had grilled the US government hard for allowing such thing to happen and polarized the population even further then it already was. But the government even with its shady activities and closets full of skeletons had the benefit of the doubt as they were told by pows that April was Junoeuos which was the month of sacrifice.
This Aztec like month was a tribute to Hardy, Palapon, and a long forgotten god who's name was forever lost to time. Slaves, servants, demi-humans, prisoners of war, criminals, livestock, riches, and personal items were to be given to appease these gods who rewarded them with good fortune and peace in the afterlife while worshippers who failed to give were excommunicated and deemed heretics. It was presumed they had all been murdered and was just another reason to further drive them and many vassals freed from Imperial rule too seek retribution.
Now a man in his late twenties with blonde hair would have a taste if it as he observed the two watch towers that guarded the route to the front entrance. "We got two tangos in the towers." Said Chuck as he he looked through his binoculars. "I don't see any more sir." Reported his sniper, Thomson who readied his M39 rifle equipped with a suppressor. "Good, take them out." Thomson adjusted for the wind and bullet drop before squeezing the tigger, sending a piece of lead into one guard's neck before hitting the other in the chest. Suppressers don't go pew pew like in the movies but the wind had helped further silence the gunshots.
"You'll think they'll suspect something after we find the bastard?" Asked a man on Chuck's right while he rubbed his hands together. "They won't Smit, not if we haul ass to the rendezvous point." The four operatives got up and waded their way through the snow towards the castle. By the time they reached a stumpy tree that was about forty-five yards from a stone wall standing at fifteen meters high with guards patrolling both on and outside of the structure.
"Looks like they're on high alert." He told his team before turning to the final member. "Harris, open the hatch." "On it sir." The black man reply as he brushed the snow away and yanked open a wooden door leading to an dark tunnel. Chuck signaled his men to follow, jumping in first. He waited for all of them to enter before putting on his thermal vision. Slowly, the men advanced through the treasure tunnel.
After soom time they walked up to a wooden door with a spacious gap between the door bottom and the floor, light revealing shadows moving by as voice could be heard. "Smit." He whispered, "Check to see how many." The soldiers quickly got to the ground and surveyed for a good ten seconds before getting up. "A dozen tangos." "Their gonna turn into a dozen kia real soon. Turn off your thermal for now." Once everyone took off their optics before Chuck took out a flash bang, pulled the pin and rolled it under the door.
"Qoud?.." Pop! With a heavy kick, Chuck smashed the door open and with his suppressed MP5 cut them down before they could react. The leader smirked, "All clear." He walked up to another door and opened it which lead to a set of stairs going up. What preceded then was a full hour of slaughter, everyone who they encountered who wasn't Cotta or a slave was to be taken out as the higher ups wanted no distractions and no one who could warn Cotta. Once the lower two floors were cleared they creeped up the last set of stairs, but stopped once the glowing light of a torch could be seen approaching from the corner of a hallway. "I got him, get anyone behind him."
He slung his weapon over his shoulder and pulled out his combat knife, the light dimly reflecting off the steel blade. The operator pressed himself against the wall and waited for the guard to get into his sight but he didn't, instead standing literally on the other side while he spoke to someone. "Licuit, transpositio mea est. Mihi opus est ut occludas-Chauugh!!" Chuck turned the corner and grabbed the torch with one hand while the other jammed the knife into the throat, causing the guard to thrash hopelessly while blood oozed everywhere. Smit on the other hand put a bullet the other guard's head.
"That was louder then I wanted it to be." Said Thomson, Chuck simply nodded. "Let's make this quick." The team march through the hallway, checking for the door for a crest with a griffin holding a sword and shield. "Sir, found it." Whispered Harris, pointing to the door that separated them from the target. "On my mark." His subordinates nodded and quietly opened the door to a luxurious bedroom with a lump underneath a large blanket. "That's our guy." He walked up to the bed and looked down like a tiger, slowing pulling out a syringe. "Hey, roman!" Cotta was jolted awake and would've screamed had the syringe not been stabbed into his bloodstream, knocking him out cold. Chuck turned to Harris, "Break radio silence, we are in position of the target."
The next day
"Mr. President, we have Titus Cotta in our possession and are now interrogating him to reveal information about the people captured." Said a mysterious voice on the other side of the phone call, his name only known among the top officials in the government. "That's great news! Has he said anything yet?" "None at the moment but he's beginning to break. They all do eventually." Reed leaned back into his chair and took another sip of his coffee. "Then do it faster goddamn it! Every day we waste the smaller the possibility of getting them home alive."
And with that he ended the call and set down the phone before enjoying the rest of his drink. His plan to massively enlarged US involvement in the new world hadn't gone exactly as he had planned. The 380,000 men he wanted to send wasn't well received, the people getting inpatient and wondered why the war had dragged on for months despite facing a extremely inferior enemy while not mentioning their exhaustion after war against terror in the middle had dragged on for over a decade now.
In response only 40,000 infantry, 90 tanks from storage, 120 Bradleys, 100 Strykers, and 40 drones would be delivered as many were afraid that if the gate closed, America could not only lose thousands of men but also her valuable equipment that couldn't be replaced so easily.
The weather was also a big concern as the blizzards and rather harsh winter had slowed their advance over the mountains to a crawl, the planned attack across the Saderan plans and strike the enemy capital being delayed to march at the earliest. Meanwhile according to the reconnaissance by drones showed the Saderans gathering all that they had to defend the capital. While it was certain that his boys would win this decisively, the enemy would go out guns blazing and determined to take as many as they could with them.