Dzerzhinski's Heirs

by RedPrussian

1989 the most loyal units of the Warzaw Pact flee eastwards into the mountains of Afghanistan. Along with them, their last secret weapon: The Nanosuit. After 20 years hiding in stasis, they return to a changed world. In a world where Superheroes are real, the young soldier Nikolai Seydlitz and his squad get into Adventures that they definitely didn't expect when they enlisted.

2. Chapter 2 - Exodus

Chapter 2 - Exodus

Nico and the squad had made themselves comfortable in their cozy little room. It was an isolated little hotel and truck-stop on the eastern border of Syria, that was now essentially occupied by the NVA. The transport planes hadn't landed on an airfield. Instead, they've just parked in the middle of nowhere on a reasonably solid country-road. They were being sold off to the Syrian army and immediately recoloured to cover up the tracks.

Luckily the staff of the hotel had been made aware what was going on and that made it somewhat easier for them to fit into the new mechanics of the place being converted into an improvised Garrison for the entire training battalion. They just had to cook, because everything else was done by the recruits as a way to keep them busy.

Everything was going on like usual.

Drill Seargents screaming everyone awake at 6.00 AM, morning exercise on the square outside, room inspections, ABC-Drills, breakfast, digging trenches, ABC-Drills, practicing on the shooting range, ABC-Drills, lunch, digging more trenches, scrubbing toilets, doing more ABC-Drills, dinner, cleaning up the hotel and then some welcome sleep. Interrupted by random ABC-Drills.

One additional duty the training-unit had been assigned, though, was to watch the american prisoners. Since they were captured at the airfield, Niko had been feeling an extreme worry for those poor guys. The most pragmatic and safe thing to do would have been to shoot them all and pretend they were killed in combat as well. It was an absolutely abhorrent idea, but the easiest way to avoid loose ends. Still, Meyer made an efford to take the prisoners along the journey. It was reassuring, but Niko had serious doubts if it was genuine chivalry. He suspected that there was an implicit understanding between him and Meyer that the moment the prisoners were murdered, Niko would desert with the Nanosuit. There were limits of how far his loyalty reached. Still, the motivations and morality of the spymaster were a mystery. He showed more patience, restraint and humanity than expected, even in situations where Niko couldn't possibly use the suit as a bargaining asset.

Only the weekend had been somewhat relaxing. Apparently, the planes had also transported a considerable amount of Vodka and Beer, wich were rationed, but everyone was drunk by Friday evening. Saturday was calm too and they just had to clean up the entire place. With only one ABC-Drill.

Apparently, the mysterious STASI man had ties to the Baathists and Syria was the first safe station for the renegade Communists. No one knew details yet, but supposedly they would make their next move soon.

The planes only had transported the light equipment and it had taken a while to smuggle huge amounts of military material through Yugoslavia into Albania and then have it shipped to Syria, but the heavy logistics and weapons had arrived that morning.

The squad hadn't heard of their new boss since the speech on the airfield and just sort of tagged along with their comrades. But recently, orders did come in, to pack up and make the unit combat ready. The journey was about to continue.

Nico was cleaning up the room his squad has occupied, while the others removed the fortifications. It sounded ridiculous, but in the first day that unsuspicious little hotel had been turned into a literal fortress with razor wire, sandbags, MG-Nests, AA-Launchers, searchlights and other security measures because: Reasons...

Paranoia had surged in the troop after learning that they were on the Eastern Border and that the route to Afghanistan was obviously going through both Persia and Iraq. After extensive speculations and sharing some knowledge about regional politics, everyone had agreed, that there was only one possible way to Afghanistan: An Alliance with the local Shias and Syrian Baathists. If the STASI had made any deal with Saddam Hussein (thus supporting him in some way), that would have alienated the Syrians and Iranians, thus making passage through the Middle East impossible. Hence, the only way was to fight through Northern Iraq and then peacefully drive through Persia to Afghanistan. The last days, there had been constant patrols to make sure no spy could ever discover this staging ground and fortifications to make sure no other nasty surprise happened like in the night at the airfield.

'At least everything had proceeded according to plan this time.' Nico though, while he waited patiently for the others to pack up the SPG-9 Recoiless Rifle that stood in their room. When they were finished he continued his work.

Still lost in thought, he didn't see the recently promoted Major Schrader standing in the door. However, Erwin did and on reflex all of them followed, when he instantly stood at attention.

"Report.", was the quick inquiry of the Major.

"Fireteam Delta-1 is finished with morning routines and has removed all fortifications in this room. Dirt is 76% removed."

Being the jerk he was, Schrader didn't tell them to stay at ease and instead inspected their beds and looked for any flaws in symmetrics or general bullshit that drill instructors usually liked to harass recruits over. At least the Wachregiment didn't push that over the top as much as the rest of the NVA. The best way to make obedient grunts is to bully them until they get so used to doing the most retarded bullshit, that they would charge a flamethrower with a bajonet if their NCO ordered them to. If grunts had brains, there would be peace in the world. The Wachregiment, replaced the bullying with crawling through piles of pigs guts and tried to be less dickish. STASI wanted their goons to have a bit of brains.

"Beds are good. All of you grab some brooms from the armory and clean up. Bloody farmer boy is no good for that anyways. Seydlitz, get your elefant-uniform, the spook want's you and your friends along for some politics-shit with the local army. Meet them in half an hour in the bar. Do your regular goon stuff, but try to look classy."

Nico silently nodded and got his ridiculous oversized uniform, while the officer left the room. Nico was already a rather tall guy, but with that suit it had looked a bit funny to squeeze him into an oversize grey dress uniform. The Nanosuit-thing was skin tight and the bigger metal-thingies, that held the suit together and powered it, were only minimally visible. It wasn't all that weird, but there was the obvious point of his neck seemingly being wrapped in steel-cords and his elegant white gloves being replaced with bulky pieces of armor. There was no way to hide the fact, how radical the concept behind the nanosuit was. From what Nico had pieced together, the thing appearently bypassed his digestive system and somehow disposed of waste in some way that didn't require taking off the suit. It was enhancing Nico's speed, agility, strenght and reflexes. And it had three 'modes'. Armor (wich made the suit extremely resilient to small calibre fire), Invisibility and 'Default', wich only had the passive features active. There were also some fine tuning tools built in, so he could adjust his strenght to be able to hold a pencil without breaking it. The suit was appearently made of some creepy metal that could be digitally controlled to move and transform into different things. According to the body scanners he had found, some of the metal had gotten into his body and did something.

All of these things sounded fascinating, but Nico wanted to have that thing off his body fast! How did this bullshit even happen? The STASI had developed that thing and didn't know what it was? Or did they somehow loose the files?

Nico inspected the ridiculous outfit in the mirror and laughed. He looked like one of these Terminator things in the american VHS movie they had found for the one TV they had in the hotel.

"Let's see how that will go.", he grumbled.

---

Later in the bar of the hotel, the Stasi-Meyer already waited and the squad got into position behind him, AK74's formally slung over the back and Makarov's holstered.

It was a quite nice bar, for such a remote hotel. A bit roughed up, but exotic. The entire unit really enjoyed having this little luxury, but they missed german beer.

The door to the bar opened after some minutes of waiting and preparing some very telling maps of Northern Iraq on the big table.

It was a delegation of one officer of the Syrian Arab Army, one old man in a higher ranking uniform and a few soldiers with AKM's. The old man was obviously in charge. He made a very healthy impression. Still in good shape. Also, he wore a black beret.

Both Stasi-Meyer, as the unit internally called their boss, and the old Syrian smiled and hugged each other like old friends.

"Thomas, good to see you. It's about time you do some field work again. You need to get away from that desk job of yours and work out more."

"Good to see you too, Hafez. It's refreshing to be back on the front."

Meyer gestured to Nico and said: "That's the suit I was talking about. I mean the one under the uniform."

The old man approached Nico and patted his shoulder.

"You Germans and your fancy uniforms.", he laughed. "I am Hafez al-Assad, by the way."

Nico liked the old man. He seemed like an optimistic, compassionate grandfather. Contrary to most high ranking military men, Assad wore only a casual olive uniform jacket with a white shirt below and a black beret. No decorations or any of the glamour that other military rulers would prefer.

"I am Corporal Nikolai Seydlitz. Guard Regiment 'Dzerzhinsky'. It's an honor to meet you, Sir."

Nico didn't really know any details, but he wasn't completely clueless what was going on. Assad. The old man was the President of Syria.

Assad turned to Meyer, who wasn't comfortable with the situation.

"I didn't expect that you would put a teen in that thing. From what you told me on the phone, you have only a vague idea what this suit does. Is there any particular reason the kid is wearing it? I thought there was a Special Forces candidate."

The reminder was uncomfortable to Nico. He just felt like a weight on the shoulders of this exile collective.

"It's embarrassing, but it was a pure accident. Some Yankees showed up out of nowhere and randomly decided to kick up a stink only a few kilometers from our evac-site. The truck with the suit got caught in the crossfire and these rookies salvaged the suit. Problem is, Corporal Seydlitz here decided that the best procedure to transport it was to wear it. But I hope we'll find a way to get him out."

Assad nodded in understanding.

"I'm still a tad sore that you didn't share this whole alien-tech with us. You know I wouldn't tell it to the Soviets or the Yanks. I understand that you kept it for yourself and only shared it with the Afghans and Koreans. They will be the major frontlines in the case of World War 3. But Syria was the active frontline against US Imperialism since the fifties. I was grateful for the expeditionary force, but if we had those kinds of weapons... We would have easily liberated Palestine."

"And revealed our advantage far too early. The Nano-Generation of weapons was supposed to be deployed, the moment WW3 breaks out. It would have been far too risky, because the Americans would have guessed who was producing them and the soviets would have known.", Meyer reasoned back.

"Like I said, Thomas, I understand why you hid it. I am just sore, that the longer the final escalation is drawn out, the more innocent Arabs will die and our capacity to strike back is laughable. Hamas is just throwing their cobbled together missiles at Israel and they answer with White Phosphorous. One day, there won't be a Palestine left to save. I always said communism isn't perfect, but Imperialism has to fall, for this world to reach any kind of order that can be considered ethical."

That statement did make Nico's opinion, and that of his squad, about Baathism skyrocket. 'Arab Socialism' was usually interpreted as a pragmatic attempt by the Arab capitalist class to protect themselves from both communist revolution and american domination by creating militaristic social democracies. That reputation had went downwards more as Saddam Hussein collaborated with western powers to destroy Iran. This Assad guy thankfully seemed reasonable and consistent, even though his ideology was still technically a form Fascism, according to the Marxist definition of the term.

"Don't worry, I won't forget about Syria. The problem with my plans is that I don't know what exactly will happen. The Soviet Union will turn to Scandinavian Social Democracy. What I question is, how they will handle their former allies. Worst case, Gorbatchev betrays everyone and gives the US free reign. Best case, the Soviet Sphere will remain intact, but retooled as an instrument for potential military aggression. We have no idea what exactly will happen and how fast it will. I can't give any guarantees yet, but we will see what we can do along the way. We will come out of the nano-pods, as soon as we can intervene somewhere and I promise Syria will high priority for technological assistance. The strategy just isn't drawn up yet and I can't make decisions like that without knowing if they bite us in the ass one day."

"I understand, so let's go on to the practical part of what you can do for us."

Both bosses moved to the big table with the map on it. The guards silently stayed back.

"You know that someday Israel and the USA will come for us. The only effective way to deter an attack would be a WMD. Nuclear weapons are expensive and damn scary, but some old fashioned gas bombs should do the job just as well. I subtly asked some contacts in West Germany, if they'd sell me some. Of course they would, but those prices are shameless! I know Saddam got his at a discount because he invaded Iran for NATO. The bastard has some stockpiles left and he is intending to use it against those annoying kurdish separatists. I'd like to put those to better use."

"Where is this facility you told me of?"

"Northern Region. If the Kurds try to rip apart Iraq again, which of course they will because they are fucking stubborn, Saddam is just going to drop some gas on their heads. Those red flags are your units, correct?"

"Yes. And everyone is ready for deployment."

"Then we'll do an all-out assault. This Soviets can join the iranian units in their attack to open up a corridor for the main force to escape. My units are ready to strike at a moment's notice. How about the Kurds? I doubt they like Syrian troops that much..."

"They agreed to help, but it took us a shitload of Strela-3's to convince them. We can count on them to delay enemy reinforcements, if the Iraqi Army tries to come through any city or village. The other turkish communist militias will do the same. Hopefully, we'll be out before the response force arrives."

"Good. I'd love to give Saddam a military slap on the wrist that actually hurts, but it'd probably be for the better if we don't draw this out unnecessarily. Ideally, your forces won't even see combat. We take the direct route. No fancy maneuvers. I'll leave the rest of the details to the officers. Are we going to oversee the action from the frontlines?"

"From a bit of distance, sadly. We aren't grunts anymore. The days where we can have our fun in the trenches without worries are over."

"Yeah, I miss these days, when we didn't have to do politics. I'll be with the staff of the Armoured Spearhead, join me there tomorrow at five in the morning."

Assad and Meyer shook hands, then the Syrians left.

Nico and his squad still stood around behind their mastermind. After a moment Meyer caught up that his guards were still standing at attention.

"Good job. You really managed looked like guards.", he said dryly.

The squad snapped out of their stiff stance and scattered towards the bar.

"That's what we are officially for, Sir. 'Guard'-'Regiment' and stuff...", Kevin commented. Both 'Guard' and 'Regiment' in big quotation marks, because they were essentially an understrength counter insurgency division, that officially counted as a very big Regiment.

"Good to know. Also, for clarification, I don't intend to use your unit in an active combat role this time. Be on alert for airstrikes, but we'll have air superiority. Our MiG-29's, MiG-21 LAZUR's and SU-22 SEAD planes will make sure of that. But if you stumble into another accident with enemy troops: Disengage! The Iraqi army is far above your weight class! LStR-40 is going to drop on the chemical depot with Mi-24's, plunder it and evac to Iran. The actual fighting will be done by the Syrian Arab Army and the Iranians. Best case scenario would be if no trace of German intervention is found. Keep that in mind!"

Meyer left the room without further comment.

---

The next morning, troops had amassed on the Syrian border and crossed it without any shots fired. Helicopters kept a low profile and flew over the desert in low altitude.

Nico had seen the impressive fleet of Hinds that transported Air Assault Regiment-40 to their target. He and his squad were just casually sitting on the new tank of their training unit and admiring the beauty of the sun rising above the desert. In the distance, there were explosions and so on, but the boys didn't notice at all. They just casually speculated on how good Iranian and Afghan women would look.

"Eh, I don't know. Religious girls are just... Clingy.", Erwin commented. "With the normal atheist ones, you can flirt with them, get a good beer, fuck them for one night and leave the next morning. With the christian ones, you have to eat dinner with their parents and sort of get their silent approval. And the next weeks, they'll write you letters asking how you are."

"At least in Germany most of your christians are evangelical. They're not that bad. I swear, Russian Orthodoxy is ultimate cockblocker of the universe.", a voice with a russian accent came out of an open tank hatch. It was one of Panzer-Meyer's new crewmen. An old russian, but he spoke German well enough.

"Well, muslims kind of take their religion seriously, but I heard the Turks and some other Arabs do sometimes overlook the monogamy part. Along with some other stupid details in the Koran.", Nico explained dryly. "And the Afghans are fairly secular minded by now.", he added and looked to the right side, where a czech OT-64 was catching up to the slower tank.

On top, Marco sat with a big box of Vodka and cigarettes. The APC carefully maneuvered to the side of the tank and allowed him to jump onto the T34. As soon as Marco was over, the Czechs fell back to their convoy. The box of Vodka was wordlessly passed down into the tank.

"Finally!", Panzermeyer exclaimed, followed by a smack and the russian ordering: "Hey, close that bottle! You are already nuts when you're sober. Why are we taking along this obsolete death trap anyways?"

"Erika goes where I go. I didn't fight this tank through miles of Soviet frontlines in 1945 to leave it behind now just because I move to Afghanistan."

The conversation was interrupted by a stray missile impacting the ground 20 metres besides the tank.

Appearently the battle had begun, but the only other hint was the increasing amount of gunshots in the distance and the occasional Syrian Medevac.

---

This did go on for the next hours and the boys had felt increasingly guilty for not intervening and helping the Syrians. It seemed lazy and mean, but they had their orders. The convoy did get through half the northern country without much of a fight.

Eventually, the convoy arrived in a small town/village.

Nico's first impression was that the place looked miserable. It had obviously been shelled by mortars and there were traces of short gunfights.

Also, it was occupied by iranian soldiers. The streets weren't crowded, but it sure wasn't a ghost town.

Almost noone really took much notice of the convoy that was steaming down the main road. Everyone was busy packing up the meager belongings of the resident Kurds onto carriages and rusty cars, produced in the Eastern Block.

The soldiers were helping the civilians evacuating with a dedication that impressed the NVA professionals. For the European Communists, helping the Kurds was a little favour between Comrades. For the Iranians, their dedication was both literally and hyperbolically religious in it's intensity.

Eventually, the road led to the city square, where a checkpoint had been built. There were two men standing on guard, improvising as MPs, who signaled the lead vehicle to halt.

Being not too far back, Nico could see Major Schrader talking to the soldiers, who then signaled him to continue. Then, something unexpected happened. The Lieutenant's SPW-40 led the other vehicles onto the parking lot near the city square.

The scene looked grim. A lot of wounded kurdish insurgents were being treated in a severely understaffed field-hospital.

"Hey, Erich. Let's ask the Major whats going on.", Nico said, to which the Squad Leader answered with a nod and motioned the others to follow him. The crew jumped off the T34 and Schrader took notice too.

He walked over to them and explained: "The Iranian CO wants to talk. Apparently shit got real here."

"We volunteer for Guard duty, Sir.", Erich answered smugly.

The officer huffed annoyed. "Cut the sliming, Mackensen. The boss want's that I keep you guys close to me anyways. Bloody STASI. Oh, and The Grandpa too."

Erich blushed when his squad involuntarily snickered, but caught himself.

Meanwhile, Marco already made himself useful in the background and got Panzermeyer.

The town hall was made a makeshift HQ and the Iranian flag was flying over it.

When everyone was ensembled, Delta-1 squad, Lieutenant Schrader and the old tank-man entered the town hall.

The building bore the signs of a small struggle. Some policemen had tried to make a stand against the iranian soldiers. They sure managed to wreck the whole place and kill quite a few uncareful soldiers before being splattered across the room by a Deshka 50cal.

Nico felt a sting of guilt. NVA soldiers should absolutely not be involved in something like this. He knew that the Iraqi government wasn't made up of innocent angels, but just helping the Iranians invade their country felt wrong. The NVA was created only to fight the true 'war to end all wars' against the Imperialists to finally secure the peace in Europe and beyond. Yet, what the STASI General was doing was nothing but heartless geopolitics. Maybe the mysterious man wasn't the visionary idealist Nico hoped him to be.

In the upper floor of the building, two guards nodded at the group, recognizing them as an allied officer and his escort.

They opened the door to the mayors office and the group entered. It was a spacy workplace decorated by a small board of books, a few portraits of historical arab leaders and oriental carpets. The brown walls rounded off the classy conservative flair of the room nicely. Nico guessed that Erich would love to decorate his apartment this way, if he would ever actually buy one.

What Nico noticed second, were the bloodstains on the chair and a fairly young iranian Colonel, who was angrily shouting orders through his radio.

"Good day, Sir. We are...", Schrader tried to politely introduce the group, but was cut off.

"I know who you are!", the young Colonel snapped, the stress obviously taking its toll on the young officer. "There's a change of plan, you help us repel the enemy attack. Now.", he barked, while running around from the map-table, to the radio. He angrily shouted something through the channel in Farsi, then ran back to the table again.

"Mackensen, any opinions on the troop morale?", Schrader asked.

"Everyone is itching for a fight, Sir. We can afford to help out for a while.", Erich answered enthusiastically.

"We will help. Where..."

"South side. We have T55's ETA three minutes!"

The group dropped their calm attitude and joined the officer running out of the building. More correctly, onto the roof. All rooftops of the tightly build town were crudely connected by a network of plank-bridges, turning the entire area into a fortress with ATGM's as cannons.

Maltyuka's and Konkurs missiles were spread along the roofs, to create a 3 km anti-tank circle of doom. At least that was the plan.

The commanders and Delta-1 took positions at a rooftop on the edge of the town, observing the horizon with binoculars.

"Okay, our scouts reported that the Iraqi Army will bring lots of T55's. Old, but these bastards are experienced. This is the Iraqi steamroller. Last time we beat them back by sheer tenacity and determination. Don't get cocky, European. Some of these bastards fought wars before we were born."

Schrader didn't answer. He was ordering the Training Company around to man positions. He thought it would be an easy fun fight. Even though the AT-Capability of theirs were a few Konkurs-Teams, one SPW BMP-2 with a Konk. launcher and that truckload of SPG-9 Recoilless Rifles the unit usually used for training. However, against T55's that should be more than sufficient. Not to mention the tons of light disposable AT-Launchers.

Like predicted, the Iraqi's sent a recon UH-1 Huey ahead. It came near the town, stopped and stayed in position for a moment, probably to report the obvious fortifications. Even though it was completely impossible to actually deny the enemy the knowledge about the position, the iranian officer ordered the thing shot down just for the sake of it.

And quicker than any MANPADS arrived at the front, Panzermeyer just shouted the order to his camouflaged tank, to fire an HE-Shell. That made short work of the obsolete US-Heli and tons of metal rained down on the desert.

The next to come was a scouting force, they assumed. Three small tankettes that looked like straight out of WW2 and one thing that kind of looked like a T72. On the second look, Nico could confirm, that those were indeed tanks out of WW2. American M24 Chaffees in desert camo.

The ATGM's opened fire very coordinated at the three M24's. It was going to be three quick kills. The Iranian Officer frowned, though. For a moment he was lost thought, then he sprang into action.

"Call the airforce now! We need an Su-25 here now! Maximum armament, highest priority. The Iraqi spearhead is a T55 Enigma!", he screamed, while the Germans looked at him confused. They knew that T55's could be quite effective with the right upgrades, but they'd never be able to stand against Konkurs.

"I think you're overreacting. Our ATGM's are going to do short work with it.", Schrader stated confidently and grabbed his small radio.

"SPW-Alpha, here is Company Command. Priority target is the T55 Prototype codenamed 'Enigma'. Engage with PARL."

As the BMP took aim, the first salvo hit the Chaffees and completely eradicated them. The modern AT-Missiles completely outclassed the long obsolete tank. However, this was what the Iraqis intended. The obsolete tankettes had served as screens, the way smaller ships in naval warfare do.

Out of the smoke came the Enigma, guns blazing. Its main gun struck an ATGM Infantry team with frightening precision.

The next salvo of Missiles, however, struck the tank without mercy. There was smoke and apparently a big explosion.

"Good work, lads. That thing got pwned."

"NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE, KEEP FIRING!", the gunner of the IFV suddenly screamed over radio, abandoning all professionalism. The 30mm cannon immediately started burning through it's AP-Belt in full auto.

Nico observed through the Visor mode of his suit and the scenery was horrifying. The tank was unscratched, exept that a few ERA plates were gone now. "Sir, we aren't penetrating the outer armor!", Nico shouted at his superior.

"RELOAD THE KONKURS NOW!", the Gunner of the BMP screamed in a high youthful voice, exposing how young he still was.

One crewmember jumped out of the hatch, a missile in hand. He got in the back, trying to jam the rocket into the tube.

"FASTER, IT'S AIMING!", the gunner screamed desperately, not knowing the channel was still open.

"EVERYONE, TAKE THE THING DOWN!", Schrader screamed into the radio, trying to save the valuable BMP.

"SWITCH TO HE! DON'T LET THE BASTARD SHOOT!"

The entire ATGM capacity opened up at the tank, closing the distance quickly, while the gunner tried to at least disorient the enemy with the concussions of 30mm HE-Grenades in a desperate last attempt to survive a little longer.

Then the barrel of the BMP exploded due to heat-related misfire.

Panicking, the terrified gunner tried to bail out still shouting all the way through, but it was hopeless.

After catching their breaths when the barrage stopped, the Enigma immediately fired back at the IFV and the round penetrated instantly and hitting the ammo-storage. "AAAAGGHHHHH!", was the last thing transmitted over the channel before the explosion took down two entire buildings.

Taking losses like that should have been nothing special for an NVA unit, but when they heard the dramatic last moment of their comrade, it was the time the entire squad instinctively realized that they were screwed.

The tank bull-rushed towards the city in full speed, while firing it's gun, the superb stabilizer ensuring hits.

Some ATGM's simply missed, some were shot out of the air by MG's, but some did hit. They penetrated the strange boxes that were connected to the armor and caved them in. It didn't even slow the tank down.

That was the moment Nico decided to run.

He made a mad dash for the T34 that was parked nearby and the old tank commander immediately ram his tank into the interior of a house, in a desperate attempt to hide his beloved obsolete from the devilish T55 that was currently eating modern ATGM's for breakfast.

It took only around one and a half minutes, before they saw the thing rumbling by. It looked battered on the outside, but appearently the boxes were a second line of defense against ATGM's. The tank was in the town and now out of the dnager of those, but now that tank was truly in the jaws of the lion. Urban areas were the traditional territory of the infantry. Here , they could go hunting with their own bazookas.

However, the RPG-7's of the Iranians simply failed to to damage or just punched those both retarded and genius boxes. The tank just turned those poor men into mincemeat with it's NSVT .50 cal, but thankfully it distracted from the big blue elephant hiding in the literal porcelain store.

Seeing an opportunity, the T34 fired... And the projectile ricocheted off the round turret. The T55 screeched to a halt. In exactly the cartoonish manner that you would expect from a monster that just got a pebble thrown at its head.

Panzermeyer suddenly had a very retarded idea. It turned out to be genius.

"Ramming speed!", he screamed and rhythmically pounded the metal of the tank similar to the galley-drummer in Ben-Hur.

Not having time to question the sanity of the old man, the crew obeyed.

As the T55 dramatically turned his turret, the german police tank simply rammed him. It was a stroke of genius, because the ZiS-85 barrel perfectly blocked the Enigma's turret from properly aiming and simultaneously held a gun at the tank's 'head'.

Nico took the initiative and jumped onto the top of the enemy tank and grabbed the hatch, while drawing his knife. It drained his suit's energy quite a bit, but he managed to rip out the hatch and immediately jam the knife between the eyes of the tank commander.

He pulled out again and backed off quickly. The loader and gunner shot out of the open hatch with their Makarov sidearms. When they had to reload, Nico activated the armor mode and jumped in. There was no real plan, he just stabbed savagely into the loader like into a bleeding punching bag until he was sure he couldn't survive.

Only the driver managed to get off a clumsy shot with his pistol that was stopped dead in tracks by the nanite-armor. Nico ended the fight by crudely slashing at the drivers throat. It wasn't a clean kill, though, as the poor man gurgled blood through the whole ordeal.

Nico climbed out of the tank completely covered in blood. His squad and CO were standing outside.

"I cleared the tank, Sir. It should be salvageable.", he reported in a tired voice.

"Good. Meyer, drive that thing now! And take one of your crew. We take that baby with us. Delta-1, guard that tank. Our air-support reports lots of Mechanized Infantry and T55's. The Iranians want to stay."

Nico protested. "Sir, if there are more..."

"Then we are ALL dead. There is a Syrian T72 group approaching to help them and we'll leave them our Konkurses. Now get mobilized and regroup at the square.", Schrader explained. He was about to run off, when Erich shouted: "Leutnant, they have wounded here! It's a matter of honour to stay! You with me comrades?"

The other nodded in solidarity.

Schrader just cringed and it wasn't hard to see that he was pissed at being defied like that. But he caught his temper quickly.

"That's Sir, Seargent. Maintain combat discipline or you will scrub toilets for the next weeks! Ok, we will use SPW's as medevacs for the wounded. That's going to buy give us a little excuse for this madness. But evacuating the Enigma is non-negotiable and the suit stays with the bulk of our units. Wait with the SPW's until I consulted with the Iranian Kommandeur.", he ordered.

At least, Nico thought bitterly, Schrader wasn't trying to weasel himself out of the situation. He had that hot-blooded streak too, but also was a monumental douchebag. Two attributes that conflicted or complimented each other, depending on situation. And it sure made Nico uncomfortable that this guy was an officer. He would never say that out loud, though...

The Iranians on the town square were mostly doing two things: Praying and cleaning G3 Rifles. It was weird, Nico thought. Religiosity should be a private thing, not an issue a government should be involved in, but he swallowed his slight displeasure with it. It was another country with other values and Iran had bravely fought against comprador Regimes since it's people overthrew the Shah.

Nico didn't quite know what to do. He felt useless. The medics were doing what they did best: Making people comfortable while they die. Cynical, but doctors were the only competent medical authorities in the military. A medic's job is to duct-tape the soldiers together until they are in the hands of a competent doctor. And they were definitely doing a better job at that, than the overworked kurdish civilians and the few christian nuns. But it was apparent how bad the supply-situation was, when Nico saw how a medic really used duct-tape to keep one soldier's intestines from leaking out.

It was heartwarming to see them help as much as they can, but Nico wanted to do something himself.

Besides him, the Enigma was getting refueled at a regular Iraqi gas-station.

As soon as the tank was full, Meyer wanted to drive off. He just started the motor and was about to close the hatch, when an iranian officer saw him. He hastily, but still politely, yelled something in Farsi and pointed at Meyer.

He ran over, a notebook in hand.

"Bebakhshid, you intend driving the tank back to base?", the Persian asked in insecure english.

"Yes, Sir. We have orders to get it into safety."

"I am sorry, you have to wait. Enemy Light Infantry has set up a Killzone of ATGM's along the street. My scouts just gave the report. We are cut off."

Meyer proceeded to mutter a tirade of very creative hamburgian curses, before retreating down into his tank. "I'll relay that to the boss, kid. Go play with the others."

Nico felt a tad annoyed, but he was used to these kinds of snarky remarks. Sensitive people don't make it far in any army.

The persian officer looked a bit bewildered at the attitude of the old tankist, but immediately noticed the obvious. Nico was in his Nanosuit. To his credit, th Iranian officer tried not to stare, but it was impossible for him not to react. That look of suppressed awe and fear that he always got, made Nico increasingly uncomfortable.

"I should really get myself good coat from the quartermaster.", he said plainly, in English. "Really hate it to draw that much attention."

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to stare. It's just..."

"Just an overtly expensive BDU.", Nico reassured him. Partly because he didn't want the man to ask the actual compromising questions.

The young Iranian nodded slowly, mustering him skeptically.

"What are German troops doing here?"

'Well... Crap.', summed up Nico's internal reaction neatly. This is why no sane intelligence agency used grunts in their super-duper secret operations. The way everything was going, it was probably impossible to hide the exodus from the CIA.

"Uhm... Well... No idea. Got deployed here and told to field-test the suit. Don't know about the politics."

The Iranian understandingly nodded. "I know how that is. Everyone is speculating what is going and no one tells us anything. From your presence I guess this isn't just about spreading the islamic revolution."

Nico's left hand nervously fumbled around with the fabric of his ammo-pouches, while he obviously looked around if any STASI agents were around. After spending so much time around them, most of the soldiers in Nico's unit were able to instinctively recognize informants. Quite a useful skill to have.

When he was sure there were no STASI or NATO-Spies around, he answered: "Yeah. I guess not. You know how operational security goes. I am not allowed to have a chat about certain topics, don't take it personal. So please, pretend that I am not wearing a High-Tech combat suit."

That got a short laugh out of the recon officer. "Yeah, that's recon-work in a nutshell. If we happen to see any Quds, we just pretend they are not there. Have you at least heard what our bosses are going to do? Share some harmless situational intel between allies?"

"Nothing solid, but I know Major Schrader quite well. Command would want us to break out to have as few clashed with the Iraqis as possible, but we are still ahead of schedule. It seems the situation here is quite bad and he will want to keep us here as long as possible. He likes to play hero and we soldiers are itching for a fight."

"Hm... Come with me." The Persian gestured Nico to follow him over to his Jeep, where a map lay on the hood of a WW2-era Willys Jeep.

He wiped a sheet of dust off the map and Nico saw it had to be a map of the town and surrounding areas.

"Got this map from the local administrators office. Baathist bureaucracy is quite effective. At least for the standards of the Levante. We are eastwards of the Tigris river. As far as I know our objective is to establish a land bridge between Iran and Syria, that should include as much Kurdish territory as possible. I guess it is about getting Saddam to concede Kurdistan as a Sphere of Interest to Teheran and then convincing the UN to use Iranian forces as peacekeeping forces, using the persecution of Kurds as a pretext. It's just a guess, but that we have orders not to storm Mosul implies that we are not trying to conquer something directly. Problem is, just after a mysterious army of assorted Warzaw Pact troops not so subtly steamed through the established land bridge...", the officer made a short pause, letting the not so subtle warning about the massive failure of the cover up sink in. "The Iraqis counterattacked. They drove a very mobile tank force straight up the East Bank and broke the encirclement of Mosul almost immediately. The Syrians have not yet been able to attack across the river. Our armored spearhead retreated after suffering 20% casualties. We are trying to hold onto this town as an anchor point to rebuild our front. General Soleimani is closing in to salvage the situation and keep the tanks from driving all the way up to the turkish border. We have to hold this village, until we are relieved."

"I see... So will we get air support? Your boss mentioned Su-25s."

The Iranian laughed at that. "Keep dreaming. They'll send an F5 with a few HE-Rocket Pods. Nothing to kill tanks."

"Thanks for the info. So, what do we do about the enemy ATGMs?", Nico asked. "We may have to retreat, if it gets too bad."

"You'd have to ask your CO about that. I have some Snipers working on that, but the Iraqis have their own." The Persian nervously scratched his neck. "And they are far more competent.", he murmured.

"I'll relay that. So how are the Iraqis going to attack? And why did...", Nico asked, but was cut off.

"That lone Enigma? They test our ATGM capacity. Those things are cheap and expedable. Send one in, record the time and stop once radio contact breaks. Until then, the commander is reporting everything that hits him.", the recon officer explained, with a bit of pride in his expression.

"How is that helping them?"

"Recon, of course. I guess now they know that our defense is a bit lacking in quality, but not quantity. The only logical choice for them is suppression tactics, but who knows how they intend to do that..."

Someone got the attention of the recon officer by shouting in his diretion in Farsi. He calmly replied and faced Nico again. "If you excuse me, I have to return to my post. Good luck, Comrade."

"Likewise and thanks gor the intel.", Nico thanked and the officer followed a subordinate of his.

---

Thirty minutes later, Nico and his squad were in their defensive positions again.

This time, reintegrated into the line-infantry. The T34 'Erika' was positioned at the central square, where it's ZiS-85 was most effective. All that cozy, adventurous atmosphere, about being an inseparable band of friends, was gone now. It was back into the strict military hierarchy.

Nico was crouching behind a window; the AK was rested on the sill for stabilization. Kevin was calibrating his SPG-9 Recoilless Rifle and swinging the barrel around, testing the fine-tuning of the tripod. Erwin was, now that no Politkomissar was watching, reading one of the Playboy Magazines that he liberated from a dead GI. Marco and Erich were in the upper floor, watching the horizon and discussing matters of coordination with a few fighters from some kurdish militia. Marco was mostly there, because Erich liked to have him around for quick situational analysis.

The defense of the city was ensembled in a ring-system now. Outer buildings were manned with ATGM-Teams and the Wachregiment Soldiers had their SPG-9's. The strength of the defenders numbered three companies, plus a platoon of militiamen. One company of Germans, Czechs and Iranians each. The outer row of building was manned by the more expendable militiamen and a platoon-strength of Germans and Czechs. Inside the city, the defense was layered with the Czechs as the second line, the training company third and the battered iranian formation was preparing for a potential last stand at the central square.

Everyone was waiting for the assault to begin for twenty minutes now. Then, suddenly, Erich ran downstairs, dragging Marco behind him, shouting: "Kontakt!"

Erwin shot up from his seat and began deploying his RPK-74 LMG. Nico's eyes stared intensely at the horizon, trying to spot the enemy. That was when he saw what Erich meant.

"Enemy MLRS.", he confirmed before the squad leader even said it. Nico could see the white trails of the incoming rockets. But as they came near, something did not look right. Erich seemed to noticed too and poked Marco to get his attention. "Marco, what are they aiming for?", he asked, confused.

The Asian stared a moment at the sky and came to a conclusion: "They're aiming for the desert. Directly in front of us."

That moment the tacticians of the units, Erich and Nico knew what was going on.

"They are using cluster-smoke. To counter our ATGMs.", he stated, so Erwin and Kevin knew what was going on. It was really a tactic that the NVA use too, but less often. In Germany, engagement ranges in rural areas were usually limited by forests, making direct-fire cannons the common AT option. And options for concealment were everywhere. In the desert, though, the Iraqis had to create a smoke-screen to block missiles.

"Fix bayonets.", Erich ordered, trying to sound calm. But Nico knew him well enough to hear the fear in his voice.

The missiles were about the impact, when they burst into smaller pieces, mid-air. Smaller canisters rained down and exploded into thick smoke above the desert. The cloud was expanding and soon everything further than 5 meters in front of the squad was wrapped in a thick grey cloud.

"Well, shit.", Erwin summed up the situation. Everyone grabbed their bayonets and fixed them on their MPi-74s. Nico had to grab into his backpack to do that. He seriously decided to design himself some kind of tactical vest to accompany the suit. The thing was neat, but just not the perfect thing to be wearing in combat. No one needs a stealth mechanism if he has no pouches for ammo.

Everyone got back to positions and tanks-tracks were hearable in the distance. A minute had gone by, when an earth-shattering 'BOOOOOM' smashed into Nico ears and the entire world around him exploded into a mess of screams, explosions, shrapnel and sand.

The might of the explosion threw him off balance. At the same time, a hail of bullets of all calibers riddles the entire facade of the house.

For a moment Nico was paralyzed by the chaos, while everyone dived into cover, but when a 9mm bullet knocked Nico's breath out of his chest, he fell to the safety of the floor.

Panicking his fingers glided over his chest and searched for a wound but he only found nothing, until he pulled a deformed bullet out of a little dent in the armor. And the dent was automatically starting to even itself out. Nico was relieved and confused, until he remembered that in an instance of foresight his armor-mode was active. He noticed that there was a blue bar labeled "Energy Reserves" in his enhanced vision, that had retracted slightly and after a few seconds it filled up back to normal.

When the saturation-fire from outside stopped, Erich abandoned his post to run upstairs to look what happened to the Kurds, when he noticed that the right side of the facade had collapsed, parts of the roof were missing, a horribly mutilated corpse was lying outside the window and no sound was coming from upstairs. He didn't need to waste time just to confirm that they were all dead.

Erich stood there for a moment, the shock visible in his eyes, but he shook it off and took initiative. "Everyone, hold fire until you see the enemy. Automatic fire mode allowed, independent target selection. Erwin, cover the front. Marco, cover the rear. I cover the breach. Kevin, you engage the vehicles, when they come in sight. You only fire with permission. Nico, you help with the front."

Everyone silently got into the ordered positions, when Nico got an idea. He saw the button on his wrist-panel, labeled 'nano-vision'. He pushed it and his field of view looked like he was using a futuristic night-vision google. However, his friends' silhouettes were marked bright green, and the rest of the background was 'darkened' a bit. And Nico saw that outside, he could see the enemy soldiers marked red! He could see everything so clearly! For a moment he was tempted to open fire immediately, but had a better idea.

"Hey Erich! This suit has thermal optics. If I combine this with the stealth-mode, I could decimate the soft enemy targets while the smoke is up."

"No, you don't go out there. Far too risky. Erwin, give him your MG. What are we up against?"

Erwin reluctantly handed him the RPK and Nico scouted the situation again.

"Two Infantry squads, in tight wedge formations. Advancing slowly. They have two BMP-1. In the back is a huge force of enemy T55. Old versions. They fired the salvo. They are retreating behind the dunes now. There are trucks and BMPs with more Infantry driving through the smoke. Requesting permission to fire?"

"Fire.", Erich confirmed and Nico began aiming. There was one enemy formation 80 metres ahead. The sight of the MG was set already to 100 metres, so no adjustments had to be made. He aimed a tiny bit below the enemy and shot a short salvo. It immediately impacted the first two soldiers of the squad catching the rest by surprise. That tiny moment of shocked confusion cost a third man his life, when Nico shot a second salvo and saw, in thermal vision, splatters of hot liquid spraying through the air around the hit body.

The two remaining enemies hit the ground and blind-fired their AK-47s in the direction of the threat. Bullets impacted around Nico, but he didn't pay attention. He fired a salvo at a lying target, but missed narrowly. The soldier rolled to the side and started reloading, but was stopped when a single precisely aimed shot cracked his helmet and skull.

The last one was smart and tried to retreat and regroup with another unit. Nico didn't know how much ammo was left in the magazine, so he fired two salvos at the crawling soldier. He hit and the target stopped moving. Nico didn't really know if the guy was dead or wounded, but didn't care.

He guessed that there was probably one salvo left and decided not to reload yet. The other infantry squad heard the shots and was advancing carefully, covering every way. They, too wanted to reach the buildings before the cloud would vanish. Nico just fired the salvo at in their direction, so he had them pinned while he reloaded.

Just after Nico watched how the last five bullets impacted around the enemies and hit one in the leg, he ripped the 40-round straight magazine out and grabbed into the pile where Erwin had stashed his magazines.

With nano-vision on, it was difficult to see if where the upper end of the mag was. But once he saw it the, reloading-process was almost like an instinct, because the mechanism was exactly the same as with Nico's own AK.

He directed his eyes back to the front. He saw one man helping the wounded soldier get back to the waiting BMP-1. Nico hesitated to shoot. His conscience screamed, that it wasn't right. He started to panic. What should he do?

Indecisive, wanting to just flee from the decision, Nico just pulled the trigger. The salvo hit the two immediately and both fell to the ground.

For a moment, Nico was shocked by what he had just done, but forced himself to move on. Nobody saw him do that and he still had a job to do.

Gaining an eye for the big picture again, Nico wanted to spot the rest of them, but didn't see then. He had a suspicion.

"Enemy infantry squad reached the buildings left of us. Three men left.", he reported, but had to shout over the background noise of AKs firing everywhere on the front.

"Rearrange positions. Nico, you do this, I have to answer calls.", Erich ordered, while ducking in a corner and listening to his radio.

Nico switched weapons with Erwin again and began to plan as quick as possible. There was one window at the side and a door in the back. Everyone was already arranged to cover all entrances, but they were still vulnerable. For fire from the window.

"Erwin, position to cover the eastern window. Use suppression fire, if anything moves.", he ordered and the LMG-Schütze independently searched for a good spot. Everyone else still, had their directions. Even Erich was still aiming his Makarov Pistol at breached wall to the west, while listening to status reports from all over the first line.

Nico knew he could trust his subordinates not to fuck up basic perimeter-security. He intended to use the suit as efficient as possible.

"I will flank them cloaked.", Nico explained shortly and activated the camo mode immediately. He climbed out through the broken front-window and moved to the east and entered the other building in a careful pace, while listening carefully.

Leaned on the front facade, Nico could hear arabic voices giving out short commands and status reports.

They were moving. Towards the northern door of Delta-1's house. Nico stalked them there, careful not to come too close. He was nearly transparent with the camo-mode activated, but from near, he still looked like a ghost. The outlines were quite obvious. At least Nico managed to get near.

Peeking around a corner he saw that the three Iraqis had linked back up with another full five men squad. They communicated, then split back up. The five positioning around the door, while the original turned back and made their way to the eastern window, that Nico had been so worried about. But he judged the five the greater danger. Even if he was vulnerable, Erwin was on his own about the window. Because Marco, Erich and Kevin would be slaughtered in seconds, if the fiver squad could successfully breach the door.

Nico got ready, to fire. The soldier with the AKS-74U, was getting in stance to kick down the front door.

In a millisecond, the world turned into a mess of automatic fire, screams, explosion, splintering wood and screams again.

A grenade was thrown into the house. Erwin fired. The door was kicked. Marco fired. The door splintered. A hail of bullets shredded the door-kicker. Nico fired, blazing in full-auto. Another Iraqi soldier died. An explosion rang through the air. Erwin screamed. Nico shot a third soldier. Another explosion tore down the eastern wall, killing the squad behind. Erich and Marco stormed out of the front. Erich pistol-whipped the fourth soldier. Marco rammed a bayonet into the face of the disoriented fifth. Erich quickly shot his entire magazine into the last one.

When the chaos was over, everyone scrambled back inside the house to get back in formation. Nico used the 'super-sprint' function of the suit, to make a mad dash towards Erwin. He had a really bad feeling.

Inside the house, it was confirmed. His friend lay there, face in the dirt, with a hole in his helmet. Tears were swelling in Nico's eyes, but he had to check.

He tried to feel the pulse and... He lived!

Nico didn't really feel the pulse, the gloves did and the information was displayed on the tactical 'info-boxes' in his field of view.

He rolled Erwin on the side and saw what happened. There was a small, but nasty exit-wound, exactly where the left mandible used to be. The entry was from a small hole in the right cheek. Also, Erwin was drooling bloody teeth-splinters onto the ground. 'Fuck, that's gonna hurt when he wakes up.', Nico thought to himself. To be sure, he also inspected the hole in the helmet. Apparently, the sloped design deflected two shrapnels and caught one. It had stuck in the helmet and knocked Erwin out.

Outside the smoke was clearing and Kevin was quick to open fire with his SPG-9.

PHOOSH! BOOM!

"BMP dead.", he reported hastily while reloading. "Enemy tanks and Motsies incoming."

Erich shouted: "We got orders to fall back to the second line. Marco, Kevin. You two carry the SPG. Drop it if you have to. Nico, you clear the way. I carry Erwin. He is alive?"

"Yes.", confirmed Nico, who saw the relief it brought onto his NCO's face.

"Ok, let's go."

The squad moved quick, yet carefully through the tight passages between buildings. Iraqi soldiers could be anywhere, but they had to get Erwin to safety.

Thanks to the strength enhancing capabilities of the Nanosuit, Nico carried his wounded comrade without much afford. Quite an achievement, considering Erwin was a small beef-mountain wrapped in 48 pounds of equipment.

At the front, Erich was leading the column. He peeked around a corner, through a door and gave a sign that it was clear. Marco positioned himself behind Erich and together they stormed into the living-room of a house.

"Clear.", they confirmed and the rest of the squad moved in. Kevin closed the door behind them, to block sight.

Nico felt his friend twitching, probably waking up. Taking the cue, he put the wounded Gunner on the western-style couch in the room.

"Can anyone patch him up?", asked Erich, while holding guard behind a window.

Nico thought for a moment. He had no bandages or similar. There were some pills in his backpack, that could help against the pain however.

He was just reaching into his backpack, when the door suddenly burst open with a BANG!

Kevin was disoriented and knocked to the ground by a rifle-stock to the chest.

Nico reached for his weapon, but when everyone in the squad had finally raised their weapons, they were faced with an entire squad of confused Iraqi Soldiers shouting in Arabic. It was six men, all fairly young, armed with SKS Rifles.

"Scheiße!", Nico muttered. It was clear what they expected them to do. Surrender. Should he dare to try kill them? They could easily kill all his friends. The STASI wanted to keep this Operation a secret and this was the worst case scenario. Nico knew, what his superiors would want him to do.

He hesitated. His memories flashed back to the fear on the face of the American soldier. Jimmy. What were the names of these boys? Were they just a squad of good friends too?

This time, Nico decided to do the right thing. He raised his hands in the air. Erich and the others dropped their weapons for sheer self-preservation.

The leader of the unit asked a question in what sounded like broken Farsi.

"Wir ergeben uns!", Marco exclaimed in German, only realizing seconds later that surrendering in an internationally unused language wasn't that smart.

However, it tipped the Sergeant of the Iraqis off, that something was afoul. While the Germans obediently got on their knees like disciplined prisoners, the NCO inspected the equipment of the squad. Of course he showed immense fascination with Nico's Nanosuit, but wasn't distracted from the purpose of his inspection.

He took off, Kevin's Helmet and inspected it. The custom 'Shield and Sword' emblem of the Wachregiment was painted on the sides of the helmet. The shield was painted with the GDR flag. Combined with the blatantly german design of the squad's uniforms, the Iraqi knew what was going on.

"Allemane?", he asked in heavily accented French, then repeated: "Germen?", in equally bad English.

"Ja.", confirmed Marco, followed by Nico's: "Yes."

The Sergeant was completely out of his expertise to solve the situation, especially with the language-barrier in place.

Erich tried to make the best out of it and gesticulated towards Erwin. "We have wounded.", he said. "Nico can help."

The Iraqi nodded in understanding.

Nico slowly got up and moved over to Erwin, who was currently waking up. When he noticed what was going on, he jerked upwards, causing him to scream in an awkwardly muffled way, when his jaw dislocated further.

His friend pushed him into the sofa forcefully and said, "Calm down, you are safe." Nico removed his 'mask' to further calm him down.

Erwin stared at him with clear doubt, but also trust.

"How bawd?", he tried to ask, carefully.

"Grenade to the face. Your mandible is gone. Don't talk.", Nico explained and searched through his backpack. There wasn't anything useful for this particular situation. Only a bandage and... Duct Tape.

He wrapped the bandage around the head in a way that would hopefully stop the bleeding. Then, he took the duct tape and started liberally rolling it around Erwins head, who was trying not to laugh. Eventually, the jaw was held in place, by all the tape.

His friend nodded, deliberately gesticulating his head downwards. Nico looked down and saw that Erwin was holding a small short-range radio, holding down the transmit-button. Nico gave a subtle confirming nod. His friend hid the radio between himself and the couch.

At the same moment another figure burst into the room, the Sergeant behind it.

"Where's the wounde...", a female voice asked hastily in English, before staring baffled at the applied 'solution'. "A duct-tape hijab?", she asked humorously.

The entire room got the joke and everyone had a short laugh. It defused the tension significantly.

Quickly, the female medic became more professional and knelt down besides Erwin.

"What happened?", she asked in fluent English, while checking his pulse.

"A grenade-splinter penetrated the right cheek and destroyed the left mandible. I stopped the bleeding and fixed the jaw with the tape.", Nico explained.

"Good thinking.", she complimented, then took Erwin's helmet. She placed it on his head and tightened the straps that stretched over his chin. Nico understood what she was doing. "The tape is still too elastic. He needs to wear that helmet this way until he gets proper medical prosthesis, or the bone grows back together. That may mean months."

She looked into her medical pouch, made in East Germany as Nico coincidentally noticed, and shook her head.

"Do you have painkillers for him? I have used up mine."

He nodded and grabbed the large plastic tube labeled 'Pervitin'. "Not perfect for treating wounded but it helps against pain and fatigue. He opened it, took a pill himself and then laid two in Erwin's mouth. He tossed over one for every one of his squadmates too, who were more than happy to take their 'medicine'.

It caused the medic to frown. And she rudely jerked the bottle out of his hand. He was about to protest when she loudly exclaimed: "Methamphetamine?! What... Why...", then stared blankly at him.

"Ma'am, this is standard-issue. We are disciplined about it.", Erich interjected calmly, but visibly embarrassed.

"I treated a lot of people in Los Angeles, who said exactly that while their teeth were already rotting off.", she snapped. "Go see a doctor about that as soon as we get you registered as prisoners."

The Sergeant laid a hand on her shoulder in a friendly manner to calm her down and ordered something in Arabic.

"Mustafa wants to know why Germans are in Iraq and whose side you are on.", she said, bringing the conversation to the issue at hand. "And of course... You know. The suit."

"Top Secret, I am afraid.", Nico apologized, sincerely. He wanted to solve the situation peacefully. But he didn't know how to do it without committing treason. Saving his friends was his priority, but the entire squad was in unspoken agreement that this line had to be held.

The medic translated Nico's words to her Sarge, who said something threatening.

"Is that the answer you want to give the secret police?", she asked and added herself: "Okay, German. I will say it like this. We don't want to kill you. We gladly accept your surrender and guarding you is our excuse to avoid the meatgrinder. But we politely ask what the hell is going on."

The Sergeant gesticulated with his SKS at Nico and ordered something.

"And you should take the suit off.", the young woman added.

Next to them, Erich was shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I got this. Trust me, Kamerad.", Nico reassured his friend in German, then turned back to the Iraqis. "Operational Security.", he apologized. "And sorry, but removing the suit in the field is impossible."

The women just shrugged. "Then don't make trouble. We will wait here until this mess is..."

BANG!

The door was kicked down again and finally flew from its hinges.

Panicked, the Iraqis turned their weapons on the empty entrance, when a canister was thrown into the room.

Thinking quickly, one of the Iraqis grabbed the grenade and threw it right back out.

Everyone ran behind the nearest cover and the Germans were already starting to reach for the pile of weapons in the corner, when the medic dropped her friendly attitude completely and threateningly fired a salvo above their heads.

Nico tackled her to the ground and was immediately shot in the back with a full salvo from an SKS in response. It seriously hurt and maybe broke a rib, but the nanite-armor completely deflected the shots.

It gave the woman the chance to punch him in the face hard and immediately drew her Makarov Pistol. With her legs she wrapped Nico's head in a crushing lock and aimed the gun at his head.

The already ignited tear-gas canister flew back in... and immediately got thrown back out through the smashed window.

Two Wachregiment Soldiers armed with PM-63 MPs stormed into the room, preparing to shoot the Iraqis, when the medic that was holding Nico hostage quickly screamed: "STOOOP!"

Nico couldn't see their expressions through the imposing Gasmasks they wore, but they were obviously caught off-guard by the situation. However, they were trained well. This was a critical moment of a hostage situation and they knew that lives could usually be saved by negotiation. Preferably from a position of superiority.

The Iraqis didn't shoot either, trusting their comrade.

One of the Wachregiment soldiers turned to the door, while the other was aiming at the medic's head, and shouted, "Sir, we have a situation.", in decent English. Nico guessed it was Fritz, another squad leader from his unit.

Through the door, the four other squaddies burst in and took crouched positions behind whatever pseudo-cover they could find.

Meanwhile the other Iraqis aimed their SKS at the other hostages.

Next, two iranian soldiers and an officer entered the room. With his head locked tightly in place, staring into a 9mm barrel, he couldn't see him well, but he recognized the voice.

"Don't shoot him. If you do, we kill you.", the Recon-Officer ordered firmly and stared down the Iraqi woman, whose eyes were obviously full of fear. None the less she answered with a hostile "Ha." first.

"And what are you going to do with us after we let them go? Behead us? Stone me?", she spat, scornfully.

"We aren't the Saudis you bigoted cunt!", the persian officer hissed back, sounding deeply offended. She rolled her eyes and the recon-major collected himself, trying to get over his anger.

"Listen. I give you my word as an officer and a honorable Muslim, that we will treat you well. If you surrender, we can hand you over to the Syrians, if you prefer that over our captivity. Just let the hostages go.", the Major calmly reasoned, then switched to a genuinely threatening tone. "But if you don't cooperate we will just kill all of you and drag the Germans corpses back. My orders are to recover the suit. The boy is worthless."

This was one of those moments, when you realize just how much fucks your superiors give about you in the military. Nico knew that already, but hearing a man he quite liked talk like this in front of him seriously stung. Hopefully he was bluffing.

But it was effective. The Iraqi medic sighed and Nico the pressure of cold steel on his forehead was removed. She said something in Arabic and the Iraqis dropped their weapons.

Squadleader Fritz removed his Gasmask and suggestively whistled. "Hey Nikolai, I didn't know you were into choking.", he joked in heavily accented English and the medic suddenly realized that the way she was pressing his face into her crotch was awfully suggestive.

The legs around his neck immediately retracted and Nico gave a coughing giggle. Even the light brown tan of her skin couldn't hide how hard the woman blushed. Fritz was about to laugh out loud, but a glare of pure condensed death by the bald Iraqi Sergeant made him reconsider.

While the iranian soldiers were sweeping the other rooms, their officer held out a hand to Nico to help him get up. "Sorry, I didn't want it to sound personal.", he apologized. "That are my orders though."

The young soldier nodded weakly and accepted the help. "I understand, Sir. I'm grateful you negotiated."

He collected his AK from the ground and moved to help Erwin get up, when the iranian politely tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, I know that the thing with the radio was a smart trick, but your Lieutenant expressed his displeasure that you surrendered at all. I know you are young and idealistic, but you should have risked the fight. You are saving no one if Saddam or the CIA get their dirty hands on that suit. Understood?"

Nico reluctantly nodded, understanding his mistake, but at the same time feeling that he had made the right decision.

"Good. Tell your Squadleader to get in formation. We will head back to the central plaza and evacuate you with the prisoners and the wounded. The way is cleared, but the Iraqis have probably filled the gap again. My soldiers cover rear, you go front, your second squad deals with the prisoners and wounded middle."

Then, the soldiers got moving to get back to their positions.

The battle for the minor little merchant-town was incredibly bloody.

In the initial assault of Iraqis had been done masterfully. They completely negated the advantages of modern Anti-Tank Missiles with their application of both concealment and suppression-tactics. Now that outer parts of the town were secured, their T55 tanks had enough cover to hide from potential airstrikes. Only the Enigma tanks were still advancing, to support the Infantry.

A contingent of inexperienced Reservists/Conscripts, like those who ran into the retreating german squad, were staying back and consolidating the captured positions, to guard the vulnerable T55s.

The actual spearhead of the assault were experienced mechanized troops. In the eight years long Gulf War, they had been hardened into well ice-cold Shock Troops.

For the Iranians, the situation looked grim. Slowly and carefully, the Iraqis were cleaning out every building in their way. To avoid casualties, the veterans liberally used their large supplies of hand grenades. When they stormed the buildings, the soldiers usually found their enemies smeared all over the room.

But often, they also hit kurdish civilians that were trying to hide from the fighting. None were given any quarter. These soldiers had fought at the Khuzestan front. Memories of iranian civilians used as suicide bombers were still too fresh, so the few remaining kurdish civilians in the town were mercilessly killed in the crossfire by the uncaring Iraqis.

The Iranians were holding the line with a series of fortified houses, blockaded streets and heavy weapons nests.

Most of those nests were Heavy Machineguns or SPG-9 Recoilless Rifles. The MGs were crewed by the remaining Kurds, while the Germans used the obsolete AT weapons to good effect. Iraqi vehicles were just as outdated, so it was a battle of equals.

However, most german casualties of this battle were actually heavy weapons teams. The experienced foe knew the fine art of Infantry-IFV coordination.

BMP-1s were precisely shooting their 73mm short barrel guns into targets directed by their Infantry escort.

Slowly, but surely, the defenders were killed. Retreats were few.

What saved the situation was, when ten BTR-60s full of Syrian soldiers managed to reach the town through the last road, that was still under iranian control.

It refreshed the energy with which the defenders resisted. The Syrians fought far more disciplined and coordinated. It strengthened the line immensely and the Iraqis were held back by well-coordinated suppressive fire.

The defenses were multiple lines of barricades. When most defenders of one line were wiped, the survivors would booby-trap their position and retreat.

Slowly, everyone was falling back to the central square, where the wounded were being evacuated non-stop.

There was still a narrow corridor, where vehicles escape the Iraqi troops. Outside the town, that corridor became bigger because the iranian scouts were gaining ground and covering the area with borrowed german 'Fagot' Anti-Tank Guided Missiles.

A brave iranian F5 pilot did strafing runs with his machine cannon, an absolute rarity in modern warfare, against enemy scouts and picking off Iraqi AT-Vehicles with his rocket pods.

The Germans were still precisely firing their heavy Tundscha Mortars at the targets dictated by the Syrians, but the crews were already giving a crash-course to a few English-speaking Iranians in handling these heavy weapons.

It was obvious, that the time had come to evacuate. The trainees had helped far beyond the standing deal, but it hurt their pride that the last transports out were reserved to them. They tried to fit as many wounded as possible into the BTRs as possible. Some squads sat on top of the vehicles or even tied single soldiers like cargo onto the side. Civilian cars were quickly stolen to evacuate just a few more.

Nico and the others in his formation had reached the back of the Iraqi troops.

They were next to a street, that led directly to the square. The crumbling barricade of the defenders were already in line of sight. But between the group and their escape was a BMP-1 and a squad of experienced mechanized Infantry.

Nico was observing them with his 'Nanovision' through the wall of a little grocery store, to avoid detection. The enemies were all lying on the ground around the BMP and shooting their M16s at the pinned down defenders. However, one enemy was taking cover behind the vehicle and watching the back of his squad.

"Do we still have an AT?", Nico asked the others, who were watching the flanks, so that possible enemy reinforcements wouldn't surprise them.

Fritz shook his head sadly. "We lost Jochen and Hannes. A 50cal hit their RPG crate. It was quick at least."

The recon officer finished speaking to one of his men and patted him on the shoulder.

"Maybe we do have something.", the iranian said and emptied a backpack. "We can improvise a bomb with our hand grenades. Kasem volunteered for martyrdom."

Fritz's jaw almost dropped to the ground at the suggestion. Nico remained calm. He remembered the military history lesson about the Gulf War and the part about suicide bombing as an effective anti-tank tactic. Less developed countries had to fight with dirtier and more creative tactics to compensate for obsolete equipment.

"I volunteer.", Nico said without hesitation. He didn't want that man sacrificing himself, when a better alternative was available. "With my suit, I could survive the blast. But I need supportive saturation fire when they see me."

The officer understood, but still asked: "Are you sure? My orders are clear. This suit is to be returned undamaged. Ordered by General Soleimani himself. And Kasem is ready for this. You are still young."

"I am sure, Sir. Please trust my professional opinion.", Nico reaffirmed and signaled the others to put all their frag-grenades into the backpack. He thought for a moment, what to use as a fuse. Thankfully the Iranian had experience and quickly improved a Molotov Cocktail with a bottle of whisky, some medicinal alcohol and petrol. He drenched the fabric of the backpack too and stuffed the bottle into the backpack in a way that the bottleneck was protruding from the top. Nico was memorizing every step carefully, because this bomb was a genius design for room-clearing.

The Iranian lit the cloth-fuse on fire and handed over the backpack. Nico activated armor-mode and wasted no time. With the backpack's strap in right and pistol in left hand, he burst around the corner.

Marco had a stroke of tactical genius again and used a hole in the wall to shoot the enemy soldier, before him or Nico could raise a weapon.

The other Iraqis, with their field-experience kicking in, wasted no time and simultaneously rolled onto their backs and sprayed a volley of M16 fire at the attackers.

Nico was hit in the chest. The armor-mode deflected the damage, but the breath was knocked out of him. Beneath the strap, the Molotov burst prematurely. Nonetheless he kept running.

Behind him the others gunned down the coverless enemies mercilessly, ripping their bodies apart in a furious hail of bullets.

Nico ran up to the IFV, threw the already burning bomb into the passenger space and hastily shut the back-hatch.

When an enemy crewman opened a front-hatch, to fire at the attackers with a pistol paid dearly for the mistake when Erwin, eager for petty revenge jumped onto the front of the vehicle. The angry German ran up to the driver, kicked the pistol aside at the last moment and smashed the stock of his LMG against the enemy crewman's head. He followed up by a brutal salvo from the MG, that riddled the torso. The officer had an idea. He whistled, catching Erwins attention, and threw an iraqi Frag Grenade upwards. It was immediately armed and dropped into the hatch.

Erwin jumped off and the grenade exploded. There was no fireball, just the metallic CLONNNNGGGG of metal impacting metal. Shrapnel wrecked countless internal systems inside the vehicle and killed the crew in a gruesome way.

The group made a dash toward the barricade. In front of them, the defenders saw the situation and gave covering fire. From behind, the enemy reinforcements were already aiming their battle rifles to shoot down their retreating foes.

The saving grace was the improvised bomb finally exploding. Because Nico sealed the doors, the force of the explosion was multiplied and the 73mm HE Grenades of the vehicle exploded too.

A shockwave and expanding cloud of sandy dust covered the retreat. It bought enough time for everyone to reach the safe zone.

They climbed the barricade, while the defenders covered them. They jumped down on the other side and began to run to the last APCs.

Everything was chaotic. All vehicles that were available were used to evacuate the wounded and the Wachregiment. Red Cross banners were hastily being created out of bloodied bedsheets and mattresses. Maybe it would save a few lives to strap them onto the vehicles.

Nico ran towards the APC that Schrader was reserving for them. On the way he stumbled and noticed he was bleeding from the leg. A bullet wound. From the Adrenaline he didn't notice. He just quickly took another Pervitin pill and kept moving. The Major didn't look pleased. "You've taken prisoners?! What the hell were you thinking?", he shouted, but caught his temper quick enough before he got any bad ideas. Schrader was a douchebag, the rookies he trained knew that, but he wasn't ready to just shoot a group of prisoners in cold blood.

"Bind them inside. If they make trouble I shoot them in the knees.", he snarled in German.

'Yeah, that was more like him.', Nico thought while the squad embarked without questions asked and executed their orders. He was about to get in himself, when he noticed the iranian officer standing there, unmoving.

"Hey, are you coming?"

He shook his head. "We have orders to hold out as long as possible to make the counterattack easier. My scouts will do a disembarked fighting retreat along the corridor. Your gifted ATGMs will help a lot with that."

Nico nodded sadly at the bitter reality of military conflict. Good people were often sacrificed for little gains. "Good luck. And sorry that I never asked for your name."

The Iranian smiled warmly. "I'm Captain Ramin. Abaz Ramin. Salem Aleikum, Brother."

"I am Corporal Nikolai Seydlitz. Gott sei mit dir, Comrade.", Nico replied with a similar german religious saying. He was an atheist, but sure that the muslim would appreciate the gesture.

Both saluted each other one last time, before they parted ways and the APC rumbled away on a direct path to Afghanistan.

---

Authors note:

For non-German readers, here is a little NVA glossary:

NVA- Nationale Volksarmee / National Peoples Army

DDR- Deutsche Demokratische Republik / German Democratic Republic (GDR)

PARL- Panzerabwehrlenkrakete/Anti-Tank Guided Missile (ATGM)

SPW- Schützenpanzerwagen / (literally) Riflemen's Armored Car, universal NVA designation for Armored Personnel Carriers (APC's)

SPz- Schützenpanzer / NVA name for Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV)

STASI- Short form for "Ministerium für Staatssicherheit"/Ministry for State Security

MfS- More formal version for STASI (which was somewhat of a sneer-word)

Motorisierte Schützen- Motorised Riflemen

(Motsies - Non-historical combat-jargon for motorised riflemen, used by the training batallion.)