"Sir, the Ford just broke radio silence."
"What the hell are they thinking? USS Gerald R Ford this is Overlord, do you copy?"
"... We're under attack!"
"Roger, Ford what is the SitRep?"
"A Russian destroyer came off the horizon ten minutes ago, they're slamming us with fire, and we've got boarding parties on our lower decks!"
"We are routing assistance your way, hang on just a little while longer."
"Sir, we still have assets aboard the HMS Ocean, should I make the call?"
"Do it!"
Gneiss-US Special Forces Deployment, STORM
The sound of gunfire and screams filled the air, and I opened my eyes slowly. The bright red lights immediately blinded me, and my eyes snapped shut. Then I inched them open again. I heard people muttering, and a man was moaning in pain somewhere in the room.
"Hey, he's waking up."
"Sir, take it easy." A sailor was standing over me, and he reached down to help me sit up. I was lying on a gurney, and after a second to take in my surroundings I realized where I was.
"The Ford, I'm back on the Ford?" My voice was hoarse, and I tried to move more. A pain shot through my ribs, and once it ebbed I glanced down. There were bandages covering my midriff, and a small splotch of blood on my left side.
"Your squad managed to fish you out of the water. You've got a pretty decent concussion, and that bullet wound could've killed you if I hadn't gotten to it a second sooner. Name's Ensign Malt, and seeing as how I'm the only one left on this ship with medical training I guess that makes me ship's doctor."
"What happened to the actual doctors?" The sounds of bullets on metal above us should have clued me in.
"Russian anti-ship missile plowed into our side, killed a dozen folks, including the three doctors." I tried to move again, slower this time, "Woah, watch out. If you rip your stitches you'll be in just as bad a case as before."
"I need to find my squad."
"You're one of those SpecOps guys aren't ya?" One of the other medics in the infirmary spoke, "They're up on the bridge, they got called to defend it with some of the SEALs."
"How far?"
"Three decks up, but you'll need to-" I stood up, and started walking towards the hatch, "I can't let you go out there." The man stepped between me and the door, and I stopped. He started to say something about how I was injured, and should just lay back down, but I wasn't listening to him. Instead I was listening to the slow beeping coming from the door.
"Get down!" I shouted, and just as I spoke the door exploded inward. The man in front of me slammed into my chest, and I was knocked to the floor underneath his weight. I reached toward his waist, and grabbed the .38 revolver from his belt. Two men had charged in the room, and, in split second they'd had started shooting at the wounded. I rapidly returned fire, and the soldiers dropped before seriously wounding anyone.
"Damn, that was close." The other medic, who'd told me where my squad was, peeked his head out over a gurney he'd dropped behind, "Nice reflexes."
"Hey," I spoke to the man on top of me, then pushed him off, "are you-" I didn't need to ask him anything. His eyes had glazed over, and the damage I could spot on his back and side was gruesome. I closed his eyes, and stood.
"Look, I need to stay here, but if you want to get to your squad just follow the gunfire, man." The medic turned back to tend more patients, and I slid the pistol into the holster on my thigh. I picked up an AK-74 off one of the dead intruders, and leaned into the hallway.
It seemed to be empty, and I ventured out further. The ship was loud, a strange change from the quiet boringness that it had had for the last few days. I could hear gunfire, and feet running around the deck above. I held one hand over my stitched wound as I found my way to the stairwell. Then I climbed, and stepped directly into chaos.
The hallway that led past the barracks was a battlefield. I'd stepped out behind a trio of Russians who were making life hard for a number of Soldiers opposite them. Taking the surprise, I opened fire, and dropped two before the third realized. As he turned to try and shoot my direction, one of the Army Rangers blew his head off with a burst from their rifle.
"Hold fire!" The Soldier shouted, and then ran out of cover towards me, "Sergeant Foley, Hunter Two-One. And your designation?"
"JSOC Deployment: Callsign Gneiss."
"What's your status? You looked fucked up."
"I'm fucked up, but I'm up. I didn't know the Army was here, what're a bunch of Rangers doing aboard a navy rig?"
"Son, with the way this war is chewing shit apart, I don't think that matters anymore."
"Fair enough." I started to move past him, and winced in pain.
"Woah," he stopped me, "I think you need to head down to med-bay. Ramirez, get him down to-"
"No, I just came from Med-bay, I need to link up with my squad at the bridge. If anything you should go to Med-bay, they're in a bad way. They could use some extra defense." He looked at me and considered his options, then he nodded.
"Alright," Foley turned to another soldier, "Ramirez, take point, down those stairs and to the Med-Bay." The soldier, Ramirez, nodded and set off. From his quick response he must've gotten orders like this all the time. Foley let all his men pass, and then pat me on the shoulder.
"That ladder should take you up to the same floor as the bridge, that way you don't need to risk moving across the flight deck." Considering what had happened the last time I'd set foot on a carrier's flight deck, I was highly grateful.
"Keep your head down."
"Will do." He turned, and ran down the stairs after his squad. I slung the submachine gun around my back, and I moved to the ladder. I looked up, and saw a forty foot tall ascent. It would be rough, but far less risky than running across the deck in the middle of a gun battle.
So I grabbed the first rung and pulled myself up slowly. The first feeling I had was pain, followed immediately by regret. I took one hand off the ladder, and peeked under my bandages. More regret. Luckily no stitches seemed to be torn or tearing, despite the gore. So I put my hand back on the ladder and started tugging myself upward at a snails pace. The ache of my wound turned into a tight stretching pain, and I found myself breaking every five feet or so, but after a lot of sweat, and what seemed like an eternity, I dragged myself onto the floor of an outer hallway. I remembered, now, why I had hated the climbing rope in gym class.
After taking a few moments to catch my breath, I rolled to my stomach, and pushed my way to my feet. I heard voices in the next room, and I approached the door as quietly as I could manage. I peeked out and saw a number of Russians trying to open the door to the bridge. Through the porthole I spied Igneous, making stupid faces at them. I rolled my eyes, and then stepped back as one of them stepped my way.
He didn't come near me, rather, he went to a duffel bag and grabbed a large square of directed explosives, a kicker charger. His associates cleared a path, and he placed it on the metal. Igneous looked down, spoke a curse I couldn't hear but could easily lip read, and ducked out of sight. Then the Russians, all five of them, stepped back and took cover behind a nearby table, exposing their backs to me.
One counted down, and I pulled my weapon. As he pressed the detonator, I pulled my trigger, and unloaded every round I had in my clip into the soldiers. Before the smoke from the charge had cleared, I had already dropped all opposition in the room. Which, of course, is right when Igneous started shooting rounds through the blown open hole.
"Try and get by, you Siberian shitbags!" He shouted, and I dropped to the floor to avoid being shot for a second time today.
"Igneous, it's me, you're clear, stop shooting!" I hollered, and the gunfire stopped suddenly. Igneous peeked his head out slowly, and I glared at him.
"Hey, you can't be mad at me, you were supposed to still be unconscious." I stood, and walked into the bridge. Igneous patted my arm, and then went back to covering the, now gaping, doorway. The officers hadn't left their stations, and the destroyed door was already being ushered to the side to clear a path.
"Gneiss, what you're doing up here?" Renner, who'd been positioned next to Igneous by the door, spoke to me.
"With all the racket going on, how could I stay away?"
"Gneiss, what the hell are you doing up here?" Ridge didn't ask me the question nearly as nicely as Renner had. He had just stepped away from a talk with the ships captain, and was now gazing at me in disapproval.
"Med-Bay got hit, I figured the only way I could help get a handle on things was up here, don't worry I'm stitched up enough to fight." I was clearly lying, but Ridge just shook his head.
"Grab some armor off one of the SEALs who was guarding before we got here. They've been laid down in the corner." I followed his instructions, and went to the corner of the room. It seemed that before STORM had arrived a trio of SEALs had been at the door, now there were three men lying dead against the wall. It was not how I'd have liked to get the armor, but it was on me in a few moments nonetheless. Then I walked back to the others.
"What's the situation?" I asked as I checked my weapons for wear and tear.
"Russians followed us back from the wrecked ship," Marble explained, "they've had a destroyer wailing on us, and sending boarding parties for two hours now."
"That's not good."
"Most of their main barrage of missiles missed, or hit non-vital ship areas. We're holding at a distance far enough to keep them from hitting us with any of their mounted weapons."
"Sir!" A comms operative shouted, "We just got word, the HMS ocean is en route with British and US assets to assist."
"Good news," the captain nodded, "means we only need to hold out another thirty or forty minutes. X.O. Get the boys in the deployment bay ready to receive incoming hovercraft."
"So we've only got to hold out half an hour, not too bad." Igneous muttered, and I shook my head.
"It might not be as easy as it sounds." I pointed out the window, and the entire bridge followed my gaze, on the horizon wasn't just one Russian ship, but three.