(This chapter has been reposted because I was a major di'kut and forgot to credit someone in the A/N below...)
Story Note: For the beginning of this chapter… remember, Tens, his brothers, Trevor and Gamble Squad are all four to five city blocks away from the White House. Therefore they are not directly involved with retaking it. Just a reminder.
Also remember Connor and Tye (C-42) have been medivaced out of Washington D.C. and that Aaron and Julia have gone with them.
With that said, on with the story…
Location: Near the White House, Washington D.C., 4:50 pm:
Commander Cody peered at the White House through decorative security fencing. Several small fires burned across the once green South Lawn, the fountain in the center completely destroyed, and the once majestic, white pillars of the front entrance were blackened from explosions. He continued to scan the area, 'no droid activity' kept flashing annoyingly in his HUD.
Two men jogged up effortlessly, and he smiled to himself when he saw their insignia.
"Sir, you sent for us?"
Cody nodded, checking his chrono before removing his helmet. He needed to drink in some fresh air, even if it was heavy with the smell of discharged deece's and death.
"Waxer, Boil. It appears our sensors are being jammed."
"Copy that," Waxer replied as he too yanked off his bucket. Cody could see how tired his scout was. Waxer, eyes outlined by dark rings, squinted at the harsh unfiltered light as he took in the once pristine building.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" It was as if Cody could read his mind. Waxer nodded and smiled as he turned to his commander and chief.
"Sir?"
Cody held out two spherical surveillance drones, "I need you to get these inside the building. The front entrance is too open, if there are any snipers, or BX's, you'll have no cover. Go 'round to the east, where an access road comes close to the building. I'll leave it up to you two to figure out how to get in from there, understood?"
The scouts nodded in unison.
"Good. Also, because of the jammer, I want complete radio silence until you complete your mission. Make it quick," Cody watched as they both clipped the drones to their utility belts and disappeared amongst the sea of white. He then placed his helmet back on and comm'ed his general.
"Sir, the scouts are enroute."
4:55 pm:
Forty meters away, at the northern edge of the Ellipse, a large circular park directly south of the White House, General Kenobi and Captain Rex were debriefing the men.
"Very good Commander. Now we wait," the Jedi General turned from looking at the White House to face Rex. Assembled in front of them were just over 1,000 men; they wore different colors on their uniforms, the ones standing out the most was the U.S Military.
"Captain, would you mind explaining the rest of the plan?"
Rex nodded crisply, "Certainly, sir."
Turning to face the assembled troopers, Rex opened a portable Holo-projector. A 3D image of their location flickered to life.
"Listen up!" His voice immediately silenced the large group. "As the general was just saying, we're going to split up into two groups. Group 1 consists of the 212th and US Army. Their task is to take back the White House." The diagram lit up with black and yellow arrows advancing into a holographic White House. It looked simple enough, but Rex had a bad feeling his friend was going to run into trouble.
"If that's your group, rally at the meeting point and get your shebs over to Commander Cody now!"
A sea of men peeled away from the main group and once together, began at a slight jog towards the forward position.
"You lot remaining are Group 2," he stopped for a second. Any one of the remaining soldiers could tell the captain was almost enjoying himself, "and you lucky pack of angry gundarks are with ME!"
"Ho-ya," the non-clone soldiers began to rally.
To the side of Rex, two US soldier looked to each other.
"What's a gundark?" the first asked with curiosity.
"Beats the hell out of me!" the other replied, "But I like the blue guy's stamina…"
Rex waited until most of the men calmed down few degrees before continuing, he wanted to be sure they heard him, "Our task is twofold, so listen up as I won't be repeating myself. One; protect Group 1's shebs as they carry out their mission. Two, we stop all, and-I-mean-all droids from advancing north from the transport ships. We will spread out along F Street. That's this street along here."
As Rex pointed at the holograph, the street they were assembled on lit up in red.
"Once the White House is retaken, we rush the transports," instead of pointing to the Holo-projection, Rex pointed south. Everyone swiveled their heads to look at the not too distant tan colored droid transports, nestled in next to the Washington Monument. Rex liked missions were you could clearly see your final objective.
Sighing, Rex hoped a simple plan would work for once. The droid army knew where they were, which normally would be a bad thing. However, for the most part, the droids were staying in the trees on the south side of the Ellipse. Just out of firing range…
"It's never good when you can see your enemy, and they can see you," Rex thought, secretly hoping retaking the White House wouldn't take his old friend long.
Location: Near the White House, Washington D.C., 5:05 pm:
"Hey Boil, I was thinking…"
Boil lowered his macro's and looked to his brother indicating he was listening.
They had snuck through the metal security fencing surrounding the White House, skirted the east access road, and now were only 20 meters from the East Wing, hiding behind a large half-burnt armored vehicle.
They hadn't been spotted, yet, but they were pinned down so to speak. Five Commando Droids, in all their vibrosword wielding glory, stalked the perimeter of the building. Additionally, two more BX snipers stood sentry on the roof making it near impossible for the two scouts to go anywhere near the building, unless they wanted to be shot, stabbed, or more likely both.
When Waxer didn't say anything, Boil nudged him, "Thinking about what?"
"We made it," Waxer commented cheerily.
"Almost," Boil cautioned, "we still have to get these two drones in the White House."
"You know," Waxer made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, "you'd think they could have come up with a more original name for the place… I mean it's a white house…. Why name it that? Kinda boring if you ask me."
"Say's the clone who probably shares a name with hundreds of other clones in the GAR. Unoriginal, really Waxer?" Boils sarcasm cut through his brother's good mood, and for once, Waxer stayed quite as Boil surveyed the building …
For only a few minutes….
"So," Boil knew that tone and winced slightly as he waited for Waxer to continue, "what if we threw the drones through one of the windows?"
Boil looked at the window his brother was pointing at, which happened to be the closest one to them. It was a good idea, but fraught with problems, as most of Waxer's ideas were.
Boil almost face palmed, "You what? You want to throw them through the window?" disbelief evident in his voice, "Waxer, what do you think windows are made out of? Flimsi sheets?"
Waxer shook his head, "No, but we both know I was the best grenade thrower in the squad, besides, how 'hard' can those windows be? They don't look very thick. I bet you I can do it."
Boil sighed, "Ner vod, you'll break the drone."
"No I won't, these drones are built tough, and stronger than any fekking transparisteel window. Besides, I'm not impressed with the tech on this planet, they might not even use real transparasteel in their viewports."
Boil was running out of objections, but the alternate to throwing the drones into the building was actually breaking into the building, which meant certain death with the commandos roaming about.
Boil looked down at one of the shimmering spheres in his hand, silently wondering how the little reconnaissance droid felt about being hurled at high velocity through a window. He suspected it didn't like the idea either, even if it was turned off.
"Come on Boil, it's a good plan. And if it doesn't work, there's always plan B."
Boil looked up from the droid with a mixture of surprise and hope; surprise that his brother had another plan, and hope that it was better than the last, "Plan B?"
Waxer chuckled, "Yeah, run."
Boil rolled his eyes behind his helmet and shook his head again, "Alright, go for it, I'm telling you though, this is not going to work."
Letting out a small exclamation of victory, Waxer grabbed the first drone and waited until the commando patrols were farthest away. Giving the roof a quick scan, Waxer stood up, took two steps and chucked the little drone as hard as he could at the nearest window.
The little recon probe whistled through the air, heading straight for the center of the window.
"Boil, I think it's going to w…"
Thunk!
It hit the window with a pathetic thud, before falling down into the grass, rolling a few feet away from the building.
Boil face palmed his helmet at the result, shaking it back and forth.
"FEK!" Waxer crouched back down defeated.
"Well, what a surprise, it didn't work. Now we have to retrieve the fekking thing!" Boil chided, looking at the drone resting in the grass with his macros. Looking up at the window he sighed, "You didn't even scratch the surface…"
"I noticed," Waxer looked down at the remaining drone in his hand, "What do we do now?"
Still looking through his ocular device, Boil studied the building, looking for another way in. He almost gave up, before he spotted it. Along the base of the building a few meters from the drone, a metal grate covered an opening in the ground.
"Waxer, I think I just found our way in."
5:12 pm:
BX-319/Alpha walked stiffly along the building, scanning anything and everything in its path. For the past 30 standard minutes, the droid had been making the same rounds. Every other standard minute it would pass BX-325/Alpha making the rounds in the opposite direction.
For the droid, this was simple task requiring far less processing power than other more complicated tasks. The droid, as it walked, simply recorded the landscape in front of it, then cross-reference the new recording with a previous recording to see if anything was amiss. This process would take approximately ten seconds to run.
Rigidly walking north past the east side of the White House, the droid noticed a small spherical object laying in the grass a few feet from the building. Busy with its crosschecking protocol it continued past the object before the change in its environment registered.
The droid froze in its tracts. Its memory core red-flagging the object for investigation.
Switching from surveillance to real-time processing, the droid swiveled around, quickly advancing forward, knowing exactly what it was supposed to investigate.
The only problem was, the object was no longer there.
Stopping a few feet away from where the object had been, the BX looked around; first to the left, across a small access road and a few burned out vehicles, then to its right, along the side of the White House where some thick hedges were growing.
After ten seconds of waiting, its memory core rang the all clear signal and the droid turned to continue its rounds.
5:13 pm:
Waxer could hear his brother's heartbeats through their comm channel. They were both flattened out against the side of building. Their hearts were both pounding a mile a minute after the twenty meter sprint.
"Fekkkk," Boil hurriedly whispered, "I thought we were goners!"
Waxer wanted to laugh, but refrained, "Yeah, you and me both. When it looked at the shrub, I thought for sure it would see us."
The very high and very thick hedge they were hiding behind had saved their lives. There was only about a foot of space between the hedge and the side of the White House, barely enough room for a trooper wearing full body armor to squeeze in.
After a few more moments, Waxer chuckled, holding up their prize. The reconnaissance drone had suffered a small dent from Waxer's Hail Mary, but otherwise the probe was unharmed.
"You know Waxer, I'm never listening to you again. We should have just followed orders to begin with, and broke in. But no, I listened to your osik plans!"
Waxer took his helmet off and gave his brother a scornful glare, "You said it was okay!" he whispered harshly, "Besides, we retrieved the fekking thing didn't we?"
Boil gave Waxer a not so polite hand signal, before turning his attention to the metal grate near them.
"Well, at least this should be easy," Boil shimmied between the building and shrubbery to the end of the hedge before leaning out into the open to look down at the grate, "the grates bars are thin, Waxer, you still have that laser cutter?"
"I never leave the barracks without it," Waxer said quietly, fighting with leaves and branches as he made his way to his brother's side. By the time he arrived, his bald head was covered with leaves.
Waxer was about to comment about their uncomfortable choice for a hiding spot when Boil quickly ducked back behind the hedge as a BX passed by. After a few seconds, he slowly put his helmet back on, motioning for his brother to do the same.
Boil quickly tapped into his internal comms, "best keep these on with those clankers nearby."
"Great, now I got leaves in my helmet, you know how annoyingly itchy my scalp feels right now?"
Boil sighed, "Haven't a clue, but maybe now you'll be a little fekking quieter. You got the cutter?"
"Me, quiet? Never, and yeah, here you go."
Waxer placed the small device in his brother's outstretched hand, "Just don't drop it, if it falls through those bars we're done for."
"I'm not a di'kut, Waxer, I can handle a fekking laser cutter."
Waxer rolled his eyes behind his bucket, "Sometimes I wonder ner vod."
"Says the one who thought playing bolo-ball with a window was a good idea," Boil countered as he crouched down and slowly edged his way out into the open again. The grate was only two feet from the end of the hedge, so luckily, little of his body was visible.
Fumbling with the cutter, Boil pointed it towards the grate.
"Watch and learn ner vod, this is how you break into a building."
The small red laser shot out in a steady stream, and in a few seconds, Boil had gone all the way around the grate
"Heads up, another clanker is making a pass, get back in cover!"
Without warning, Waxer grabbed his brother and yanked him back into the hedge in a flurry of leaves. The sudden movement caused Boil to lose his grip of the laser cutter. The little tool promptly fell onto the grate, bouncing once before falling unceremoniously through the bars.
"Fek!" Boil yelled, the internal baffles of his helmet rendering his cry of exasperation silent to the outside world.
"What?"
"What! I'll tell you what! You made me drop the shabla laser cutter!" Boil turned on Waxer in a heartbeat, reaching out to strangle him. Waxer though, was already several feet away, and pointing desperately into the hedge, "don't move! The droid is right on the other side."
Boil froze and listened.
"What seems to be the problem?" asked the unmistakably mechanical voice of a BX.
"Sir," a B1 replied, "I thought I saw movement near the building."
A few tense seconds passed in which neither Waxer or Boil dared to breath.
"Investigate the discrepancy," the BX ordered, "I have more rounds to make. Report anything you find."
"Roger, roger," came the B1's reply, before the two scouts heard the BX walk off, leaving the B1 alone to investigate.
"Great, we get the dumb one to deal with," Waxer complained dryly over comm's.
"Better than the ruthless killing one, with the kriffing big vibro-sword."
Waxer chuckled, "Yeah, good point."
With that, Boil edged himself to the end of the hedge, waiting for the B1 to approach.
#
To the casual observer, the B1 was simply checking out a grate along the base of the White House.
Until it suddenly disappeared into a hedge in a puff of leaves and twigs. The sound of metal on plastoid could be heard, until all was quiet.
A few moments later, a lifeless droid was propped up against the outside of the hedge as if it were merely resting.
5:20 pm:
"You've got to be kidding me?" Boil shook his head in disbelief, "this is not going to work. And I thought your window idea was osik!"
Waxer was pressed into the hedge, his helmet tilted to the side so he could see his brother. Both of his arms were shoved through the hedge to the droid on the other side. His left hand held the droids head up, while his right held the body in place.
"It'll work, just get the metal grate open before the next Commando comes along!"
Boil, still shaking his head, crouched over the grate. The metal where he'd cut earlier had cooled completely.
Stooping down, Boil grabbed the cut section of grate before attempting to lift it up. Heaving and cursing all the time he was unable to move it an inch, he simply hadn't burned through enough of the metal.
Finding the circular cutout not wanting to budge, Boil pulled again with all his might, straining every muscle in his body. After twenty seconds, he finally gave up with a string of curses that would put a Tatooine smuggler to shame.
"Waxer, the metal fused back together. Do you have the laser cutter?" Boil paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "Oh, wait! I forgot, somebody was a di'kut and caused me to drop the feirfekin' thing!"
Waxer, still pressed against the hedge, only sighed, "I'm sorry for saving your life from that droid, okay? Geez, some brothers and their issues…"
"My issues?" Boil ground out.
"Oh shut up and try stomping on the grate, you might be able to break the weakened metal. Just hurry up okay, the next BX should be around here soon, and I'm not sure if this droid ploy will work."
"Oh, so now you have doubts?" Boil said sarcastically.
"Boil!"
Boil shook his head again, looking down at the metal grate in annoyance, "Why do I even listen to you?"
5:24 pm:
Scrunched against the back of the hedge, Waxer watched through the side of his visor as his brother got on top of the grate. However, but a sudden movement on a leaf diverted his attention.
Looking more closely, Waxer was surprised to see a small creature crawling across the leaf, it was long, green, had several legs and was incredibly fat. The way it moved fascinated him to no end, distracting him from the mission at hand completely. He was only slightly aware of Boil a few feet away angrily jumping up and down on the grate.
Waxer watched fixated as the creature moved to the edge of the leaf, when to his surprise it began innocently nibbling away at it.
"Hey Boil, Boil you gotta see this little alien, it's so weird! And fat!"
It was then that Waxer looked back to his brother. Or where his brother should have been. Instead a dark round hole existed in the grate, and Boil was nowhere to be seen.
"Fek, BOIL!" Waxer yelled into his comm's. His first instinct was to run to the grate, but a new voice froze him in place.
"Unit 238, what are you doing?" the voice of a BX asked.
Waxer groaned inwardly, remembering the droid he was propping up on the other side of the shrub.
"Unit 238? Respond."
"Waxer! Hurry, I'm barely holding on here!" the sound of Boils voice over comms sent a wave of relief through Waxer. But then he realized what his brother had said.
"Fek, Boil, are you alright, what happened?"
The sound of Boil's labored breath came through the comm, "No time… holding on by a finger here vod, help!"
"Unit 238, respond immediately. What are you doing?"
Waxer was torn, his brother needed him a-sap, but if he went to his aid, they would both die at the hands of the BX.
Hoping his brother had time, Waxer summoned his best droid voice, "Low battery," he ground out, wincing at the worst droid impression he'd ever heard.
"Fek, Waxer, what the fek was that? Fek, I'm slipping! Where are you?!"
On the other side of the hedge, the commando droid cocked its head, "Unit 238, is something wrong with your voice transmitter?"
"Roger, Roger," Waxer replied lifting up the disabled droids head in a nod.
"Waxer! Kriff, I can't hold on much longer, please!"
"Unit 238, report to transport 2548 for maintenance."
Waxer wanted to scream, but instead simply said, "Roger, roger," as he brought the droids arm up in a salute, or what he hoped was one.
"Oh fek, WAXER!"
Waxer froze, listening as the footsteps of the BX slowly receded away.
Finally when he felt it was safe enough, Waxer dropped the droid and rushed the five feet to the grate.
Diving into a crouch on the grate, Waxer poked his helmet through the hole turning his helmet lamps on to light up the dark pit below.
About two meters down, just out of reach, Boil was holding onto a pipe with both of his hands. But the pipe was too large to grip properly, Boil's hands were slipping.
"Waxer! Thank Manda! You gotta help… I… I can't hold on… much longer…"
Waxer was desperate, he couldn't reach his brother… and he had only a short time before the next droid came around.
"Hang on Boil!" Waxer frantically looked around for something to use to get his brother out of the pit. That's when he thought of it, their ascension guns. But after a quick search, Waxer realized he didn't have them.
"Where's our ascension gun attachments!" he rushed out.
Boil grunted, "I've got em, no use, can't let go to grab…"
Waxer nodded in acknowledgement, his didn't dare speak and have his voice betray his fear.
Looking around again, above ground, he noticed it. A green hose coiled up on a vehicle. But the vehicle was twenty meters away, parked along the access road they had come in on.
Seeing no other choice to save his brother, Waxer got up.
"I'll be right back Boil!"
Waxer had never sprinted so fast before in his life. He no longer cared if the droids saw him, he had to get that hose.
Jumping over a bench, Waxer almost crashed into the vehicle. Deftly grabbing the bundle of tubing, he turned to start back, but was abruptly yanked backward.
The hose was locked to the vehicle by a heavy duty metal link.
"Fekking haran!" Waxer cried out, gesturing to the heavens with his arms before he franticly tried tugging the metal ring off.
It didn't budge.
At the end of his tether, Waxer drew out his DC-17 hand blaster and shot through the link with two well-aimed blue bolts, cringing at the loud sound the blaster made.
Grabbing the hose again, Waxer ran full pelt back across the twenty meters of grass to the grate.
Not wasting a second, the scout threw the hose down the hole before looking down himself.
To his horror, Boil was no longer holding onto the pipe. All Waxer could see was blackness.
"No, NO! Boil! Boil can you hear me! BOIL!"
Nothing…
Waxer leaned into the abyss in despair, before shouting down, "BOIL!"
A slight echo was the only response he got.
But then an unexpected and familiar voice startled him, "Yeah? I'm right behind you."
Waxer was so surprised that he almost fell down into the hole himself before two hands grabbed him, hauling his shebs to safety.
Turning around, Waxer found himself facing an un-helmeted and smiling Boil.
"Don't need you falling down there too," Boil said lightly.
Boil expected some kind of wise crack in response. Instead, Waxer threw his helmet off and ran at him.
Expecting to be tackled, Boil raised his arms in surrender.
But instead of attacking his brother, Waxer embraced him.
"Uhh," the look on Boils face was one of surprise, before he hesitantly brought his arms down around his brother, patting him lightly on the back, "it's okay vod, I'm alright," he whispered quietly.
Waxer held Boil tighter for only a second, before he let go.
"How?" was all Waxer could muster. Besides the overpowering realization that Boil was alive and the emotions that accompanied them, Waxer was embarrassed by his sudden show of compassion. He and Boil had only been together for a little over a month, but it hadn't been until now, when he'd almost lost him, that Waxer had realized how attached he'd become to the other scout.
Boil smiled, punching his brother on the shoulder, "while you were off getting that hose, my hands slipped."
Waxer's eyes went wide behind his helmet with the realization that Boil had indeed fallen, "But… but how did you not fall…"
"to my death?" Boil finished for his brother before continuing, "Well, I was prepared. I knew I was going to fall before you could help. So, as soon as I started falling, I reached for my ascension cable attachment on my belt, somehow managed to attach it to my carbine and fired. I honestly don't know how I did it as fast as I did, and it was pure luck that the cable held onto the grate above, but it did. After that I let the gun pull me up, and I climbed out."
Waxer couldn't believe it, but he didn't care, his brother was safe, and that was all that mattered.
"Maybe we should…"
"Hands up Republic scum!" the robotic voice of a BX intoned, standing a few feet away.
Swiveling to the droid as one, the two adrenaline filled scouts grabbed their DC-17 blasters and took down the commando with two precise shots to the head.
"Boil, get those two recon drones down that hole now, and let's get the fek out of here!"
"Copy that," Boil replied instantly before detaching the two drones off his utility belt. Pressing a button on each to activate them, he hastily threw them into the abyss he had narrowly escaped, before hightailing it back across the grass with Waxer by his side.
Together, they doubled back with BX snipers sending red plasma bolts inches from their heels.
"Next time," Waxer yelled down the comm's to his brother, "tell Cody he can get a fekking ARC trooper to do this osik!"
Location: Near the White House, Washington D.C., 5:50 pm:
"General, the surveillance probes are in the White House and fully operational. I expect they will start streaming data imminently."
"Finally. That is good news Commander, although next time tell your scouts to try and keep it under an hour? We've been waiting 30 minutes longer than I had hoped. Now, what are we looking at?"
Cody nodded, "Yes, sir, I will have a talk with them later. The drones, however, are showing that Commander Fulton was correct when he said the droids were unable to infiltrate the lower levels, or lifts down to the US Military's Command Center. As to the number of droids… well sir, honestly there appears to be very few. Five BX's patrol the perimeter, another six on the roof. Inside, there's only a few dozen B1's. Hardly an army, sir."
Obi-Wan frowned, "What do you think Cody?"
Cody shrugged, "I don't know general. Perhaps they moved onto other parts of the city? Either way, I would recommend sending in a few squads to clear the building. It's hardly worth sending in all of Group 1."
Kenobi was in a quandary. He knew strategically they had to send in all of the initial group to retake and secure the White House properly, but this Sep army wasn't playing it by the book.
With a heavy sigh, Obi-wan nodded, "OK, send in whatever squads you think necessary. Make sure to include a few US Army squads, it's only fitting they help in reclaiming their own power symbol. Have the rest of the men join Group 2 along the road, I'm sure that the captain could use the help. Once the White House is captured, we'll advance on the transport ships."
Cody nodded, giving a crisp salute before jogging off to assign men.
Obi-wan looked from the White House across to the large Droid Transports in the middle of the national mall, the triangular monument peeking out between two of them.
I don't like this, I don't like this at all.
#
"212th Squads Epsilon, Delta, Gamma, Iota, Sigma… US Army Squads, Foxtrot, Alpha, Kilo, Romeo, Victor and Zulu – you're squads have been selected to retake the White House. Commander Fulton is the CO in charge. Good luck men. Commander Futon, please continue."
6:00 pm:
"Each squad has been assigned a specific mission or task. Most of you have been given rooms or sections of the building to clear and secure. However, those of you with a green icon showing on your HUD, you're mission is to secure critical building infrastructure, or items of national historic and cultural importance. I will be in contact with each squad as we progress through the building. Romeo Squad will take care of the Sep snipers on the roof. You've all been given det cord for the perimeter fence, set it up once you arrive in position and call in when done. Now, all squads move out!"
At Fulton's command, the 11 squads each made their way around the White House perimeter fence, surrounding the building completely. As each reached their designated breach locations, they quickly rigged the security fence with detonation chord before calling in.
"Iota, in place sir!"
"Foxtrot at the ready."
"Epsilon in position, along with Delta."
"Gamma ready when you are sir."
"Alpha and Kilo Squads standing by."
"Victor ready to kick some major droid ass sir!"
"Sigma status a go."
"Zulu Squad echoing Victor squad, sir. Ready to kick these fuckers back where they came from."
A few moments passed before the last squad called in.
"Romeo Squad in position on rooftop eight, ready to execute enemy at your command."
Fulton smiled under his helmet, he was with Foxtrot at the southern perimeter fence.
"Alright men, this is it. These sons of bitches think they can just waltz into our home without facing the consequences? I know some of you aren't from this world, but I've been informed that you fight for the Republic, for a democracy. You know then what it means to fight for freedom, to fight for democracy, to fight for your brothers, sisters, family and friends! Let's send these tin cans back to the cold hell they came crawling from!"
The comm's filled with whops and cheers.
"Romeo, execute now!" Romeo Squad was one of the special op Marine squads that had survived the attack on Quantico and been re-deployed to the nation's Capital. Commander Fulton had no doubt they would perform their mission perfectly.
"Copy that Commander," Romeo's Sergeant replied steadily.
From a nearby rooftop, the retorts of fourteen high powered, hypersonic rail-gun sniper rifles echoed across the city scape.
Milliseconds later, the hypersonic rounds impacted the six BX's on top of the White House roof. The armor piercing ammo disintegrated the droids armor as if it was made of sand. In seconds the droids on the roof were no more.
"Targets down."
Fulton smiled, "All squads, commence assault!"
The sound of small explosions reverberated from around the White House as the perimeter fence was breached in multiple locations.
Before the smoke could clear, the squads fanned out towards the building.
Sigma was the first squad to take down a BX, followed swiftly by Foxtrot, Iota, Alpha and Victor.
Within seconds, all squads had reached the White House.
Circling to the many different entrances, the squads quickly breached the building itself.
Fulton along with all of Foxtrot charged into the front entrance with one final thought.
'For my country!'
A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy New Years! And a big Happy Holidays for those who celebrate other holidays this time of year. I will be busy the next few days, so I might not be able to answer reviews right away. I do apologize.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter… and please review…
IMPORTANT: Lastly, this chapter would not have seen the light of day without the amazing fantastic and suburb editing abilities of my Beta Ms CT-782, for whom I will be eternally grateful for her taking time during her Christmas holiday to go over and review this chapter. Thanks Ms CT-782, you are the best, period. : )
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(Got a new weapon in the story. Looking for a good bad-ass name for it, feel free to submit name proposal! : )
Hypersonic Railgun Sniper Rifle – used exclusively by the most highly trained special operatives in the US Military, these weapons were developed by DARPA around 2030 as a greatly miniaturized version of the much larger CEMRGS (Coldstinger Electromagnetic Rail Guns). These sniper rifles are almost always lethal (unless a sniper misses his target), they are also highly classified.
(The weapon Tye (C-42) used back in the Hangar at Quantico to take out all of those droids was a variant of this sniper rifle system).