Chapter 29:
Operation Normandy (Part 2)
D-Day+ 22
Two weeks have passed since the main Imperial counter-offensive. The two armies have clashed and fought during those times continuously. Despite the fact that the IDDF and its allied coalition were superior in numbers and firepower, the Imperials managed to stall them so far by sheer will to fight another day. Stalling their enemy bought the reserves enough time for the 7th Legion to come to their aid. Thus so far, the 6th Reserve Regiment stood their ground along with the 7th Legion – the 9th Legion being completely destroyed in a few days by the Royal Knights and their Strike Forces.
The artillery was their wake up call. Marines and JSDF soldiers rushed to the Hesco Barriers, the machine gun teams on the watch towers lit up the treelines as enemy troops charged at them. This must have been the thirtieth attack of those past weeks. The humans were quick on their feet, accurate with their weapon and deadly in retaliation. Legionaires dropped like flies, mowed down by their weapons.
However, the enemy also had their own artillery units. Pounding their base for the fifth day, the men and women in service had a hard time to sleep peacefully, wary for an upcoming assault. Supplies were getting low, casualites high and morale dropping from sleepless nights. But they have endured through it so far and they shall continue today.
"Keep it up, Marines! Don't let those basterds close!" Raymond shouted in encouragement as he walks along the line of Marines behind the barriers, "Do not let them retaliate!" He stopped at one spot and fired a couple of rounds into the battlefield, three or so enemy foot soldiers fell by his hands.
Dirt rained down on the Marines as more enemy artillery shells fell just short from their position. Attack jets flew pass their positions, the venerated A-10 Warthogs let out their distinct aggressive screechs, the Vulcan autoguns spun and shot out lethal doses of 20mm rounds into the battlefield. Very few digimon could survive their deadly air runs. Imperial troops were easily anniliahated by these powerful rounds; chests were perforated, limbs and heads exploded into red mists of blood and flesh, bodies were destroyed beyond recognition, and more cried in agony and shock as they bled out painfully, leaving pools of blood and their entrails spilled on the ruined soil.
"Woo! Get those motherfuckers!" Yelled the Marines happily. "This is Sparta!"
With air support once again on their side, the men and women of camp "Sparta", JSDF and U.S Marines, gunned down the fleeing imperial troops mercilessly. Enemy wounded were abandonned on the battlefield, left behind by their scared comrades, their only hope is they'll get better treatment from the humans; if they were lucky enough to not get blown off by artillery or receiving a stray bullet to the head.
Around late noon, Royal Knight Strike Forces and IDDF armoured companies led a counter-offensive, cutting down the rest of the imperials and their artillery units. The reserves were either killed or captured, very few digimon of the 7th Legion managed to run away alive from the Strike Forces' unrelenting and precise attacks. The Royal Knights ordered their troops to hunt them down, operating as a search and destroy mission.
Thus, the IDDF and its allies repelled the imperials out of the "Normandy" coastline.
Finally having some time to breathe and respite, Raymond went along the barriers, checking up on his Marines and other soldiers of the JSDF, giving them encouraging words or a proud pat on the back. Quick and simple yet enough to ease and comfort them. His Marines fought well and they fought hard, this only proves how proud he was of them.
The men and women in uniform had to wait another hour to really have the "all clear" signal. From this point, they went on the grueling task to gather their dead, recollect ammunation from them and refortify their defenses. The air had been quite depressing despite it was a major victory for them. No amount of battles won would ever compensate the unfortunately long list of KIAs. Each battle, each skirmish, each mission was a painful cost for the IDDF.
Grimly and silently, the soldiers gathered their dead, wounded and carried the injured enemy soldiers, treating them with medical aid, food and water. The grassy plains were ruined and disfigured, it was now a desolate and lunar landscape. Large craters dotted the area, pools of blood mixed with mud slowed the humans in the process of retrieving enemy wounded, they were often too late or the enemy's wound was infected, thus needing immediate medical care.
Communications between forces and bases were completely silent. Different reports estimated that there were between 4 000 to 6 000 Imperials killed in action, however some could estimate that there were more than 10 000 troops involved in the counter-offensive.
These stats were useless to most ground forces, the only thing that mattered was who's left.
His clawed feet sunk deep in the mushy mud as they trudged across the battlefield to retrieve any other enemy casualty. Corporal Cyberdramon swore under his breath dryly, half of his body was caked with dry blood and mud due to having been slipping on the ground for a couple of times now. His trusty M240B had surprisingly little dirt on it, he heaved the machine gun over his shoulders, wanting to minimize the dirt on it.
The stench of blood and explosive residue lingered strongly in the air, some of the Marines in his squad had their shemagh or scarves lifted up and covering half of their face, just below eye level.
"Having trouble back there, Cyberdramon?" Asked his squad leader, Sergeant Scott Rand, amusingly, finding it funny that an intimidating and brawn digimon like him was having trouble traversing the field of mud.
"Aye, Sergeant," Replied the digimon with a small grin, "Unlike Guilmon, I hate mud." He stated with a grumbled as he almost lost his footing once again.
"Well, at least by the end of the day," Rand turned around with a teasing smile, "You'll be well camouflaged in this mud field."
"Yeah, like Arnie in the Predator!" Chuckled PFC. Samuel Winston, walking pass the digimon with ease, "It could work in here, who knows?"
The Second Squad of Second Platoon continued their search, idly observing the area, until they came across Third Squad from First Platoon.
At the head of the other squad of Marines was Sergeant Flamedramon, and like Cyberdramon, caked in the mess, from head to toe. An annoyed glare was apparent on his face while Lance Corporal Guilmon, also in the same circumstance, seemed to have the time of his life with his joyful and toothy grin.
"Told you so, Sergeant." Whispered Cyberdramon to Rand before the latter addresses to Flamedramon.
"Found anything, Flamedramon?"
"Negative, nothing on our end." The blue bipedal dragon replied dryly, wiping off some mud on his mask, "We're pulling back now and hopefully be done with this mud." He hissed the last word to emphasise his disgust. He then threw a small glare at Guilmon, a bit jealous of his behaviour.
"If you say so. I guess we should pull back also." Concluded Rand and turned away.
Suddenly they all heard heavy 'slodging' sounds near them, as if someone was crawling heavily on the mud. Looking towards the sound, they spotted a raised, furry limb before it lifelessly fell back on the ground with a small 'splat'.
"Ah crap..." Cyberdramon uttered bitterly as he follows his squadmates towards the injured.
The wounded Imperial was an unconscious Strabimon, wearing a dirtied marine blue beret and a damaged metal chestplate, punctured by either bullets or sharpnels. Small rivers of blood came out of his chest and out of the cut on his forehead. His left leg was almost charred to a crisp, fur gone, revealing a mess of burnt flesh.
The Marines gathered around him, checking and evaluating his health. Badly beaten but miraculously alive if given the proper medical care as soon as possible.
"We'll take care of him," Stated Flamedramon, "we'll have him bandaged up and carry him back to a medical station."
"Alright, we'll continue that way to see if there are any others like him around." Responded Sergeant Rand, his Marines started to move out with Cyberdramon at the back, still staring at the Imperial trooper.
"Clean the wounds and roll bandages around his left leg and chest, give him a shot of morphine and let Guilmon carry him from there on." Instructed Flamedramon as his squad begin their task.
"Let's hope he'll be still alive to give us some intel."
While the other squad took care of the wounded, Cyberdramon caught up with his squad, now walking beside Rand.
"What's with the beret, actually?" Asked curiously PFC. Winston.
"He's a Scout Legionaire, Special Forces or some kind." Answered Cyberdramon, half certain.
"Yeah, he should have some useful intel for us," Confirmed Rand, "Though I have no clue why they would employ SF to the frontlines... Such a waste of manpower in my opinion."
"Maybe they're desperate and unrational?"
"Yeah... let's hope that..."
September 13th 2019, Camp Sparta.
Idle chatter filled the small briefing room as the Force Recon Marines of the 1st Digital Marines waited for their platoon commander.
"Atten-tion!" Shouted Staff Sergeant Renamon as soon as First Lieutenant Colbert entered the room. Her voice silenced the whole room instantly, the Marines stood sharply and stared at their CO and his 2IC attentively.
Behind Colbert was a white screen. He took a small remote controller and turned the lights off before turning the projector on, displaying a map, specifically an image taken from a drone. It was going to be their area of operation. The image was a bird's eye view of a large rural town, squares upon squares of houses and buildings scattered around, at the center was a large dome like town hall. Roads crossed and sectioned the town in a maze like pattern. The sight of the rural urban maze reminded the Marines of Afghanistan or Irak, having the similar urban layout.
"This, gentlemen," Colbert announced while pointing a small red laser at the image, "will be our new playground. Let me present to you New Zimmer. A large town with a population of 3 000 digimon, 500 Imperials and a company of armoured vehicles, namely tanks and mobile Anti-Airs." The image then panned and zoomed in an urban area of the town in the South-West, blocks of buildings and streets was all they could see, "This is the "Porkchop"," Several buildings were then highlighted in bright green, "And these buidlings are our estimated locations for our VIP."
Colbert's gaze shifted to his Marines, "As you may have guessed, this is a search and rescue op, and I know that this kind of mission is suppose to be conducted by MARSOC," He explained as a matter-of-fact, "However our forces are spread thin and overloaded with work. All Special Operation Forces units from around the globe are being deployed in advance of the main forces, acting as the tip of the spear. Reconnaisance, Search and Destroy, Sabotage, POW rescue op... you name them. The IDDF is sending the best of the best out to cause as much precise chaos and mayhem along and inside enemy line. Staff Sergeant."
Renamon nodded and stood upfront, observing the Force Recon Marines sternly. "For this mission, we will strike hard and fast. Limited explosives, C4 is recommended. No snipers for this mission either. Gear up with extra ammo 'cause we might stay out there longer than expected. We will be fighting alongside the Dramon Republic's 23rd Storm Regiment. They will provide us the necessary heavy firepower we need to hold the enemy off for a few hours. Remember, we're here to rescue someone not to blow the entire town up. Be careful where you aim and call out your shots."
She stepped back to her previous position and let Colbert back forward, his hands clasped behind his back, his icy blue eyes eyeing over his Marines.
"Our VIP is a Slayerdramon, codenamed "Nobu". He is an important officer of the Dramon Republic's ground forces. We will be airlifted by helos and I guarantee you that we will be swarmed by enemy troops in a matter of minutes. That is why I expect all of you to keep your heads cool and aim sharp and deadly. We will divide the platoon into four teams of four Marines to clear out the suspect buildings faster. Once you've found the VIP, signal to the rest of the unit. We will reassemble to the target building and, hopefully, exfil helos should be there for us in five mikes. Oorah?"
"Oorah!" They all shouted in unison, confident and determined.
"Fall in and prep your gear!" Instructed Renamon sharply, "We're green in five hours, so grab some grub and some shut eyes after your preparations, you'll need it."
On cue, the Marines orderly walked out of the briefing room, leaving Colbert and Renamon alone. Colbert was gathering his intel folder and noticed that his 2IC still hasn't moved from her spot. He coughed loud enough to catch her attention.
"You should probably get on moving, Staff Sergeant." He suggested politely and formally.
Renamon still had her hands behind her back, back straight and posture still as a statue with a neutral expression on her face. She slowly shook her head before speaking up.
"Don't need to, Lieutenant, my gear is already set for the op." She replied stoically. Colbert could see she was exhausted from the long fighting, not to mention the mess it had been after the battle. The bags hanging below her eyes were big evidences that she had sleepless nights.
"Renamon, you don't have to be so formal, it's just the two of us." Shot back Colbert, deciding to slack back his tone a little, "I can tell that you haven't slept in awhile and you know for a fact that a tired Marine is an ineffective Marine." He countered sharply yet with care. Renamon just stared at him, conflicted and reluctant to give in. "If you won't listen as a friend, then I'm ordering you to take some shut eyes, Staff Sergeant Renamon." A small smile crept on his lips.
Renamon sighed in defeat and tiredly and nodded dutifully. Walking out of the room, she was stopped on her tracks when her superior officer called her once again.
"I recommend you go see your boyfriend, I know it could 'help' you a little." He said with a friendly wink to which Renamon chuckled lightly.
"Let's hustle, Marines! The Imps aren't going to kill themselves!" Hollered Gunnery-Sergeant Dukeman.
Marines of Alpha Company hurried up with their task, running back and forth, carrying crates, weapons or canisters to supply their convoy. A long line of armoured vehicles awaited patiently for their passengers and drivers, their engines rumbled with life, small trails of black smoke escaped out of the exhaust pipes.
While they were the first to get ready for the next push, they weren't the only ones ready to leave the base. The whole battalion is getting ready and the JGSDF was in the similar state. Digimon forces have already gone out with the IDDF's Special Operations Forces units shortly before the entire base was on the move.
Raymond had his eyes glued to his clipboard, reading rapidly the list of supplies and equipment present in his convoy. Striding without watching ahead, the sound around him was filled with hundreds of voices and mechanical sounds.
He bumped into someone by accident. Feeling stupid, he sheepishly apologized the person in front of him, only to shut up immediately and having his cheeks flare up. Kuribayashi was also in the similar state.
"H-hey..." He stuttered nervously after a long moment of silence.
"H-hi..." She replied in a similar manner. She was holding her rifle on one hand and her combat helmet on the other.
Another minute of silence struck between the two. The hectic activity around them continued but it seemed to be muffled by a divine intervention, or some sort.
"Haven't seen you in awhile..." Spoke up shyly Raymond. Known for his reckless bravery, even as an officer, this situation hasn't been drilled in bootcamp nor taught in OCS, thus he lacks the skills to... tackle this sort of awkward moment.
But indeed, eversince the interruption of their moment by the enemy, they haven't seen each other during the whole battle. Oddly enough, they weren't worried about one another but they did think of each other oftenly. And now is their chance to clear some things out...if they are willing.
"Y-yeah, but I'm glad you're still alive!" Shino responded awkwardly with a forced out smile.
"Same here... *cough* "
"So about that t-time... are w-we a, uh, thing?" Asked the petite brunette nervously as her face turned fifty shades of red, "Are we "serious"?" She clarified.
"Well do you want to?"
"Do you have any feelings for me?"
"Uuh, I-" A loud mechanical wheeze and hiss shook them out of their reality.
"Move out of the fucking way!" Shouted a Marine tank commander, sitting atop of a M1A3 Abrams tank.
Both soldiers moved to the side, closely to each other, and let the tank get on its path. Raymond coughed awkwardly and bid Kuribayashi farewell. She returned the action and went on a different direction, seemingly forgetting the important question.
Hopping in the command M-ATV, Raymond huffed in frustration and slumped back lazily on his seat. Dukeman later joined in, taking the driver's seat with a small smile.
"Rough day?" He guessed idly.
"You have no idea..."
Numerous agricultural fields dotted the temperate landscape. The square-ish fields had different shades of green and some had certain shades of orange. Lined and sectionned by rows of healty and beautiful oak trees, the helicopters flew above the peaceful landscape at a fast pace, passing above some of the isolated cottages.
Around them were valleys of forests and tall hills, filled with different shades of green from the colour palette that blended harmoniously. Farther ahead of them was the town, New Zimmer, built next to the "Lyrax", a large river that snaked through the landscape, providing the area with ample amount of water and fishes, it was quite a popular river for amateur and professional fishermon, but neiher of those really mattered for the elite Marines that is Force Recon.
The mission was important, nothing more nothing less. And they will accomplish such missions with silent, swift and deadly actions.
"Feet on the ground in three mikes." Announced their pilot of the CH-53E Super Stallion "Snake Eater 1-1".
"Three mikes!" Repeated Colbert loudly to his Marines.
Though the helicopter isn't really built for stealth and quick special operations, it compensates for being able to carry a large amount of troops and being more suited to take more of a punch than the BlackHawks.
There were only two Super Stallions in the air, escorted by five Viper attack helicopters and a single AC-130 Spectre flying high above in the skies, armed to the teeth with destructive weapons, ready to unleash them at a moment's notice... if the Recon Marines asked nicely.
Tailing behind the formation of human aircrafts were four dozen aerial digimon of the 23rd Storm Regiment, an elite shock trooper regiment of the Dramon Republic, made up only of veterans and highly experienced soldiers. They are the toughest soldiers the Republic has to offer.
"Two mikes." Came out the announcement.
The Marines instinctively checked their gears: weapon locked and loaded, plate carrier and helmet strapped neatly, radio's still functionning, assault pack tighten behind the back and shoulders, ballistic shades and shemagh present for cover from dust and for badass appearance. Renamon checked her earpiece before inspecting her new MK18 Carbine. Racking the charging handle, it released a small and satisfying 'snap', indicating a round of 5.56mm was chambered in. Next was her sidearm, a P220 pistol -her paws being too big to handle a M45 sidearm- she had little experience with it but she hoped the 9mm parabellum rounds would be enough to take out most enemy targets that gets too close.
Peering out to the small oval window behind her, the rural town was nearly in her sights. As expected, the town was quite large, hundreds of blocks of civilian buildings stretched on the expansive green landscape. Civilian activities were still present, evident by the hundreds of them walking through the crowded streets like an ant colony, unaware of the military presence that will soon dawn upon them. Hopefully there won't be any unnecessary civilian KIAs.
"One mike."
"One minute!"
Turning her head to the left, she came face-to-face with Roach, carrying an M4A1 carbine fitted for close quarters engagements. He had his combat goggles and black and olive drab shemagh on, resembling like a faceless warrior. The Marine turned to her and gave her a thumbs up, she could easily sense that Gary was giving her a friendly smile behind the cloth. She responded with a small smile and a slight nod.
" Boogey 1, to all SnakeEaters, be advised: we have multiple hostile movements in the town and on the outskirts. We will engage hostile forces on the outside. How copy? Over." The Spectre gunship informed calmly.
"Boogey 1, this is SnakeEater 1-1, solid copy. Boots on the grounds in forty seconds. Over."
"This is SnakeEater 1-2, copy on that traffic. Dropping troops in fifty seconds. Over."
"Roger that, SnakeEaters. Good luck and God speed, gentlemen."
The skies erupted violently as the gunship lit up the ground with its deadly arsenal. Tilting to one side, the ground-attack aircraft spat out 40mm shells and 25mm rounds, destroying enemy vehicles and decimating their ground forces, 105mm howitzer shells pounded enemy bases built around on the outskirts of the town, resulting in a large devastating explosion of dirt and military equipments, materials and personels. The rain of death stirred the local population of their daily lives, witnessing the destructive power of the Spectre in the sky and ran for their lives in utter terror.
"Feet on the ground in twenty seconds."
The Super Stallion tilted on its back lightly before it stabilises in the air, flying at low altitude and slowly dragging itself in the air towards the nearset suspect building.
"Ten seconds."
"Ropes out!"
Hovering in place, Colbert kicked down the rappel rope to the outside world, now a tornado of dust, dirt and sand caused by the helicopter's rotor down, also known as "brown out". The "brown out" is both an advantage and a disavantage for both forces. By obscuring the area in a thick cyclone of dirt, enemy troops couldn't see them, meaning they could safely move around them without being spotted, even at a mere meter away. However that also applies to the Marines. They couldn't see the enemy nor their environment, there are chances that the imperials are just waiting for them right outside the dust cloud, perfect for a quick and deadly ambush.
While the platoon started to rappel down the rope, Renamon put on her goggles and jumped out of the aircraft. She landed graciously on the ground, hitting the stone paved road with a light 'thud'. Her squadmates were just behind her. She lifted her carbine to her right shoulder, scaning and sensing for any threat.
Civilians were long gone from their AO, having been fleeing away to avoid getting caught in a crossfire. The Spectre's fire still echoed strongly in the air, even through the deafening rotor blades of the helicopter above her.
Colbert was the first human on the ground, tapping Renamon's shoulder and pointed her to a direction. She replied with a thumbs up and waited the others to guide them to the correct pathway out of the thick cloud.
"WarChief, this is SnakeEater 1-1, Spartans are on the ground and proceeding to Tango 3. How copy? Over."
"Loud and Clear, 1-1, proceed to the next phase of the mission, provide intel on enemy movement."
"Roger that, moving to next phase. 1-2, how are things on your end?"
"1-1, Warriors are still disembarking- Fuck!- 1-1, we're taking heavy enemy attack! Shit, they got here quick!"
"Left door breach! On me!" Ordered Renamon after taking out two hostile foot soldiers.
The Marines stacked up behind her, Roach placed a small strap of explosive next the doorknob, a small black wire connected it to a detonator. He took his position next the Staff Sergeant, crouching and waited for her signal. She nodded, giving a tap on his helmet. He pressed the button, the door blew in violently, the Force Recon Marines rushed in, guns up and eyes behind the sights, finger eager on the trigger.
"Hostiles outside!" Reported Colbert, "Make it quick Renamon!"
The Lieutenant and a handful of Marines took cover behind the store's narrow back alleyway. The group's MK48 gunner grinned happily as he spots half a dozen of new targets on his sight. Bursts of 7.62mm rounds barked louder than the combined efforts of the M4A1s' and MK18s' 5.56mm rounds. The imperial troops were dropping dead like flies killed by a bug spray; a lethal spray of bullets in their case.
Minutes later, Renamon and her team came back out by the same breached in door, unfortunately empty-handed.
"Moving to the next target building! Cover fire!"
Bursts of bullets halted the enemy from advancing on them. Renamon cleared the other end. With the all clear signal, they crossed the street in a full sprint, barely avoiding enemy projectiles. Thinking fast, the digimon operator took out a grey smoke grenade, pulled the pin and tossed it in the middle of the street. A distinct 'pop' rang before a grey cloud slowly dispersed out of the tube hand grenade and obscuring a large portion of the street. The rest of the platoon safely re-grouped with the others. At this point, Colbert's radio crackled with life.
"Spartan 1, this is SnakeEater 1-1, be advised, Warrior 1 and Warrior 2 came up empty with Tango 4 and 5. How copy? Over."
"1-1, we came empty with Tango 3, we're moving to Tango 1 and 2." He informed to the pilot.
"Roger, I'll let them know. Be aware that Shock troopers are near the area, be careful for blue on blue fire."
"Right, thanks for the info!" He ended the comm and grabbed everyone's attention, "Friendlies are nearby, watch your fire and call out your targets! Let's move out!"
The Recon Marines weaved through the maze like rural town, walking fast and checking their surroundings, enemy troops were zeroing on their position fast. Firefights echoed in the narrow alleyways as bullets fly back and forth at both sides.
Renamon spun around, MK18 brought up and holographic sight on the target. With disciplined fire, she shot three precise rounds at her target, the carbine kicked as it recoils slightly upwards. The bullets punctured through a Cyberdramon's chest, three holes jouted streaks of blood, flesh and organs damaged and pierced by the projectiles.
She dodged several enemy fire with ease and calm, as if she was dancing, sumersaulting in the air before using the momentum to push herself further upwards thanks to a wall. In mid-air, her cold eyes scanned her next targets, weapon loaded, changing the fire selector to automatic, the carbine spewed out short bursts of hot lead, punching through most flesh and body armour the enemy troops had. Most have fallen, few were lucky to substain a gaping wound to the limb or chest.
"Nice fucking shot, Staff Sergeant!" Shouted Roach from behind as he provides cover fire for the rest of the platoon.
A small smirk etched on her face. Jumping backwards at high altitude, she tossed out a frag grenade to cover their escape and stall the enemy, hopefully even killing them all with a frag; it could be a sweet score for her. The grenade bounced off the walls and hit one of the imperials. One of them wanted to curse but was shortly drowned out by the loud explosion and cries of their comrades.
"Okay now you're just showing off, Renamon..."
"Shadow Storm!" Black sharp diamonds rained down on the foot soldiers, blood sprouted out of their bodies before they were turned into clouds of data.
Hitting the ground with a tired grunt, BlackRenamon looked around her to assess the situation her squad was currently in.
Soon after they've arrived in the AO by a human air transport, they were pinned down by heavy enemy contact. Two of her Shock troopers fell and four got injured badly. Sergeant Chief ExVeemon tried to contact with the rest of their forces, to no avail. Royal Knight communication device was somehow less effective than their human counterpart.
"Fox Fire!"
An intense heat wave was felt near her. Turning around warily, she saw three data clouds and a worried and beaten up WereGarurumon.
"Come on! We're hauling our asses out of here!" She shouted through the battlefield before following the squad. BlackRenamon tailed right behind them.
"Sergeant BlackRenamon! Corporal WereGarurumon! Cover our retreat while we take the wounded outta here!" Ordered the Sergeant Chief as he lifts a wounded DinoHumon over his shoulders. The injured digimon was mumbling about his mother and a cookie jar. "Yeah, yeah, you'll see your momma soon, mate." ExVeemon muttered under his breath.
"Looks like we're bait this time." Commented BlackRenamon with a sly smirk.
"Yep, like always, Rena." WereGarurumon pointed out sarcastically. A small smile crept on her lips before she furrowed her brows, face serious as enemy troops came into view. "I'll take the ones on the right and you'll-"
"TOO SLOW!" Shouted BlackRenamon in the distance, taking out a Sealsdramon with an uppercut and perfomed a roundhouse kick to an unfortunate AeroVeedramon, the powerful kick sent them flying straight into a building.
Joining the fight enthusiastically, the two female elite warriors held their grounds with outstanding performance and synchronised team work, dispatching left and right hostile soldiers.
They were outnumbered but they weren't outskilled, experience and tough training had built these female digimon into battle-hardened and highly skilled combattants, outperforming most of their male counterparts. They were the best in their field.
Sadly for them, their fun was cut short when imperials were starting to drop suddenly in mid-action. Blood sprayed the street, the cries of victims were soon drowned out when loud mechanical barkings erupted. Streaks of green hot lead punctured enemy troops with ease.
When all thirty tangos were eliminated, human in green digital camo came out of an alleyway, their weapons raised and meticulously searching for any potential targets. It was as if the weapon's barrel could sniff the enemy eager to dish out more lead. The group of human soldiers, immediately recognised as the famed Force Recon Marines ran up to them. A half split up and formed a semi-circle around the two digimon and the rest of the group.
Renamon and Colbert calmly walked up to the two awestruck digimon, both of them had their mouths hung open.
"Sorry for the interruption, troopers," Began Colbert politely, "but we Marines are a bit in a hurry." He curiously observed the area behind them with a raised eyebrow, "Where is the rest of your squad? Or did you guys got separated?"
"Uh, no, sir... we were just providing cover while they evacuate the wounded." Reported WereGarurumon dutifully, straightening her back with BlackRenamon following suit. "Honored to work with you, sir!" She saluted them sharply.
Rushed footsteps abruptly interrupted Colbert. Looking behind the two shock troopers, an ExVeemon halted suddenly, panting heavily, his face was sweating profusely. He held up his long range communications headset (trademarked by the manufacturer).
"L-ads! Got *pant* info *pant* friendlies-" He stared at the human soldiers around him with wide eyes. He slapped himself on the face, releasing a loud shriek of disappointment. "I hate my life..."
"Sergeant Chief, do you think you can hold this position while we clear out target building 1 and 2?" Colbert asked with a cool but serious tone, implicitely ordering the ExVeemon.
"Aye, sir. But make it quick, I've got wounded on the line." ExVeemon told him hurriedly.
"Thanks a lot, we'll be quick. Let's move out, Marines!"
Each passing Force Recon Marine gave an acknownledged nod to the three other digimon and followed their commander dutifully.
Tango 2 was a small local apartment, located just a few blocks away of the Regional Ministry. It was an eight storey building, wide and tall enough to accomodate most digimon of different size and type.
The platoon hit against the wall of the building. They split into two teams of two squad size, one will breach the front door and the other the back door. Staff Sergeant Renamon led the team through the front door. Kicking the double door open, the men rushed in, their leader tailing behind them. The group cut in two and checked both sides. The reception area was devoid of life, civilian luggages were left out, scattered on the prestine carpeted floor in a hurry. Heavy thuds of the humans' combat boots were muffled by the soft ground. Radio transmisssions and light static echoed in the empty apartment reception room.
"All clear, Staff Sergeant," Reported neutrally Sergeant "Roach", his M4A1 grasped firmly against his plate carrier.
"Pick two volunteers with you to stay and hold this room. No one gets in or out, friendlies only." Renamon ordered stoically. "The rest of you with me, we're moving up."
Roach spun around on his feet and pointed his index at two members of his team, "You and you."
Sergeant Cody Middlebrooks and Corporal Andre "Coal" Blackburn both grumbled under their breath in protest.
Floor after floor, room after room, the VIP was nowhere to be found. Hostile presence was zero however civilians still hid in the apartment and each time it was the same story. Marines breach in, screams of terror rang loudly in the hallway and their ear, the Marines try to calm them before moving on to the next room. Eventually both teams found nothing, counting that have found at least three dozen civvies.
"SnakeEater 1-1, this is Spartan 1, we have three dozen civilians in Tango 2 and five friendly wounded, requesting quick evac. How copy? Over."
"Spartan 1, request denied. AO is still too hot for an evac of civvies and wounded. I'll contact Warchief and see if they can get PJs in the air. Hold on, over."
"Boogey 1, this is Warchief, new mission update: Pjs are Oscar-Mike to evac civilians and wounded on the field. ETA 10 mikes, prioritize hostile armour and AA guns."
"Roger that, Warchief, Boogey 1 will engage and prioritize hostile armour and AA guns."
Shifting to their new targets, the Spectre gunship spat out a series of 40mm and 105mm shells. The ground shook and shot up violently, mushroom clouds of dust and fire dotted the landscape. Behind crewmembers' screens, those who were operating the guns, streaks of white beams of different width shot across the black and white screen, infared signatures of hostile units were suddenly replaced by a large white smoke screen.
All of the sudden, alarms blared all across the aircraft, hostile ground-to-air guns have them locked on. Despite the danger, the two pilots calmly asses the situation, their voices butchered in static by the radio.
"Missile out." They reported coolly.
A flash appeared from the ground before a thick trail of grey smoke launched upwards, heading towards the massive metal bird, aiming at its rear.
"Missile confirmed, heading for our rear." Reported one crewmember.
"Roger. Flares out, flares out." One of the pilots announced.
A light 'beep' resonated. From the outside, dozens of bright white lights shot out of the aircraft in a specific pattern, illuminating the already clear blue sky. The lights produced smoke revealing a characteristic pattern. Dozens shot upwards out to the sides before slowly descending while another dozens shot directly downwards. Thus the Angel Flares appeared in the Digital World, one that would be admired and awed by many digimon commoners and envied by the digimon angels, residing in the skies in their Sky Colonies. A beautiful faint image of an angel, either an ironic twist of the Spectre gunship; the Angel of Death, or a sarcastic contrast to the chaotic battles on the ground.
The incoming missile fell easily for the counter-measures. Spinning in the air harmlessly before igniting in the air, far away from its initial target.
"Missile avoided, good job, guys." Pointed out one crewmember through the mechanical whirs of the five-barreled GAU 12/U gatling cannon, the 25mm empty rounds released small, almost melodic tunes.
"Shit! More missiles coming at us!"
"Flares are still not ready!"
"Fuck! Evasive maneouvre!"
"Hold ON!"
Half a dozen missiles flew up straight for the gunship, coming from different paths. The Spectre tilted back in its stationary position then lifted its nose upwards quickly. A missile missed the tail and another barely hit under the aircraft.
"Ugh- Come on!"
By a miracle, all remaining missiles missed their target. Both pilots huffed out in relief, glad to still be alive at this time.
"Fuck, man, do we have plot armour or some shit?" One of the pilots joked in relief.
"Don't know, don't care..." Replied the other, "Does anyone have eyes where those came from?"
"Affirmative... Spotted the flashes to our nine o'clock, in the town."
"Warchief, this is Boogey 1, we have spotted possible AA guns in the town. Permission to light 'em up."
"Granted if you have solid evidence. Minimise collateral damage, Boogey 1." Affirmed Warchief with a commanding tone.
"To any Vipers, this is Boogey 1, we need eyes on the town to confirm a AA unit so that we can take it out. How copy? Over."
"Boogey 1, this is Viper 4-6, give me the location and I'll be there in a moment. Over." Proposed a female Marine pilot.
"Roger, just, uh, wait for a second – Okay, AA unit have been spotted inside a small commercial district, five klicks North-West of Tango 5."
"Roger, Viper 4-6 inbound..."
The massive gunship flew around the town's perimeter at high altitude, out of harm's way from most Digimon anti-air projectiles. From their point of view, the battle seemed to intensify by the second, a whole quarter of the town consumed by the fuel of war, its citizens unable to escape its maw, caught in the lethal crossfire.
Seconds felt like hours as the crewmembers waited anxiously to receive their confirmation on the supposed AA unit. To their relief, the radio to the cockpit buzzed with life.
"Fuck – Boogey 1, this is Viper 4-6, we have eyes on the AA unit. It is confirmed, light 'em up as soon as you're in range." The Viper pilot reported through her rapid breathing.
"Thanks a bunch, Viper 4-6. Weapons' hot in twenty seconds."
The ground-attack aircraft plunged downwards a bit, risking to get retaliated by the imperials. Shifting its massive grey body to the side, the weapons adjusted their aim to their intented target.
"Five seconds..."
The few quick adjustments were done, shells and rounds were chambered and ready to shoot.
"Firing, firing, firing."
A loud orchestra of death and destruction followed on cue, thundering 'cracks' and deafening 'thumps' rang in the skies like a violent storm, sending shivers down the imperials' spine and terror to the civilians; the angel of Death was back with vengeance and fury in its core.
Caught in a panic, the imperial artillery operators quickly abandonned the area, leaving behind some of their comrades to their fated end. Swept up in a cyclone of fire and dirt, the 40mm shells cleared out the commercial district, destroying everything in its path with extreme prejudice and no mercy. A field of ruins and smoked craters laid in the area now, pockets of data clouds flew in the air hazily, untouched by the nature of war.
Admist the volleys of fire from the Spectre, close quarters firefights in the urban jungle between Allied forces and Imperial forces and gun runs from the USMC Viper attack helicopters; two Pavehawk transport helicopters from the U.S Air Force arrived into the battlefield with speed and purpose.
"To all air units, PJs are in the AO for civilian and wounded extraction, ETA two minutes."
A bullet barely missed Colbert's head as he listens attentively to the communication's traffic, completely ignoring that last bullet. Relieved, he donned his tactical helmet on, neatly resting on his scalp. He pulled out the 30-round, slightly curved, AR-15 magazine from his M4A1 carbine and inspected the remaining bullets. Recounting his remaining full mags, he determined it was enough to go on for an hour more.
"Listen up!" He shouted at his Marines, all hold up inside the empty target building with the squad of the Dramon Republic Storm Regiment, fighting off a large amount of hostile foot soldiers. "PJs will be here in two minutes! So let's hustle up and push these fuckers back!"
"Oorah!" They shouted unanimously.
"Boogey 1, this is Spartan 1, requesting gun run at Tango 2, at anything above a hundred meters, light 'em up with 25mm, long burst." Colbert demanded with haste.
"Spartan 1, Boogey 1, gun run at Tango 2, anything above a hundred meters, twenty-five millimeter, long burst." Repeated the Spectre's gun operator, "Be careful, guns are spinning in 3... 2... 1... Now."
Faint, heavy 'whirs' could be heard from outside the building. The ground shook violently as dirt shot up suddenly along with civilian houses crushed by the fearsome gatling cannon. Several long bursts went on, a large mist of sand and dust soon envelopped the target building, obscuring the occupants from the horrendous but effective result of the AC-130 gunship. The cries of imperial troopers being perforated, dismembered and blown up in a spectacular explosion of blood and guts rang in the air before an eerie silence came after the terrifying metal bird stopped its fury.
"Spartan 1, this is Boogey 1, area is clear, an estimate of fifty EKIA. Good luck out there, Spartans." The pilot wished confidently.
The sound of rotorblades came to their ears, the mist was washed away, dissipating or swept upward by the rotors as a Pavehawk hovers in mid-air before slowly making its risky descent on ground. The Force Recon operators rushed out of the building, forming a semi-circle at the front, kneeling down and scanning around warily.
Two USAF Pararescuemen ran up to them, backs hunched over and head low to cover their faces from the cyclone of dirt and dust. One of the special forces operators walked up to Renamon at a rapid pace and offered his hand to greet her.
"Senior Airmen Jonas Lowe, 24th Rescue Squadron!" He greeted himself loudly through the deafening spins of the rotorblades.
"Staff Sergeant Renamon!" She greeted back loudly, "Glad to see you guys!"
"What's the MIST, Staff Sergeant!"
"Four friendlies wounded! One ExVeemon with GSWs to the ribcages, one Fairimon with head trauma and a GSW to the left thigh! One Valkyrimon with a third degree burn on his right arm and torso and one Angemon with an amputee to the left leg with GSWs to the chest!" She reported as quickly as possible, knowing that time was of the essence in this critical situation.
"What about the civvies?" He shouted the question.
"No apparent injuries." She replied.
"Are you sure?"
"We checked quickly!" He gave her a thumbs up and placed his left index on his headsets, listening to the comms before he spoke up.
"Gator 3-2, you'll take the two angels, I'll handle the the two others!" He proposed to the second team through his headset. An urgent pat to the shoulder tore his gaze away from the ground and straight into Renamon's icy blue eyes.
"Aren't you going to take the civilians?"
"Can't, not up to MEDROE," He explained sadly, "Sorry, ma'am."
Frustration bubbled in her, baffled by his response. She released a short, dry sigh, remaining cool in her mind. It is part of the protocol and she must follow it, no matter how much it will pain her when she and her squad will have to abandon the civilians to this mess.
She guided the two pararescuemen to their patients, some of the Marines offered their assistance to carry the wounded digimon on board the Pavehawk. After the first ascended back to the air, the second helicopter swooped in, this time taking light enemy fire. The low menacing 'thumping' of the M2 Browning machine gun indicated them that the enemy was close. Green streaks of fifty caliber rounds shot out of the transport chopper.
The MH-60M jerked roughly as it smacked the ground. Sliding the side hatch open, two more Pararescuemen came out and ran to the Recon Marines, awaiting them with the wounded on stretchers. One of the PJs, a Senior Airmen, guided the escort group back to the Pavehawk. Once they were in, the rest of the Recon Marines piled in back in the building, ready to move to the other target building.
Seeing the two helicopters fly away with the wounded, ExVeemon was confused as to why no further helicopters will come to evacuate the civilians.
"What the..." Spotting the Lieutenant, the blue dragon walked up to the officer, "Hey, wait, how come they don't other choppers here?"
"Can't," Colbert simply answered, "Not enough space nor time to evac the civvies."
"Then who's gonna, Lieutenant?"
"The Army, they'll arrive in fifty minutes." The digimon's mouth was hung open, not believing the human.
"You can't be serious! We do not have fifty minutes!"
"I know but we just have to leave them behind for the meantime." Declared the human as he and his men prepared themselves to move out.
However, the Sergeant Chief strongly disagreeded with the course of action. His troopers gathered up behind him, curious of the whole commotion between their commander and the human special forces unit.