MSR Tijuana/Appia Highway, Duma Mountains, April 7th 2021 (0910)
1 week. Exactly 1 week has passed from the moment they stepped off Alnus as part of the coalition invasion of the Saderan Empire, as they advanced through Central Falmart killing legionnaires, blowing buildings apart, smashing siege equipment and cutting apart innocent civilians with machine guns along the way. But for the Marines of 1st Recon, it had barely felt like a day.
They have no time to celebrate this milestone however. For the past 24 hours, they've been ordered to dig in along the mountain pass, waiting for RCT-5 and the rest of the division to catch up with them. Humvees, MTVR trucks and several Abrams tanks lined the roadside, sitting on the verdant grasses of bright green meadows belonging to the tranquil valley of the Dumas, their turrets occasionally swiveling left and right, the gunners intently searching for any enemy forces on the treelines mirroring the highway's left flank, as they waited in anticipation for whatever orders that might come next.
Mountains, whose peaks reached high in the sky, flanked both sides of the highway as their steep slopes brought down a hail of cold, chilly wind despite the similar yet alien morning sun of Falmart shining brightly upon the Marines. A cacophony of birds chirping, grasses and trees swaying mixed with the buzzing sounds of the typical radio chatter accompanied the Alpine-like scenery of the mountain range, all too familiar to the more experienced grunts who had experienced the hellish mountain training course offered by the Corps.
Besides being an eye-catching feature of the valleys, the surrounding mountains also acted as a perfect high ground and ambush point for any hostile forces that might be crawling along the slopes. This fact was not lost to the 1st Recon commanders however, as they immediately conducted reconnaissance missions along the highway, observing every bit of dirt intently, not wishing to suffer the same fate that had befallen their brethren in Afghanistan and Iraq several decades ago.
A small stream ran freely to their right, the sounds of water gushing through a mixture of rocks and grasses drowned out by the radio chatter coming from the Marines communication devices. A row of tall grasses and flowers littered the stream's left bank, swaying as an invisible chilly breeze swept through the air, cooling down the Marines buried under their cumbersome gear, carrying a variety of equipment, each of them differing in their intended purpose.
Well hidden behind the row of tall grasses on the stream's bank, Simon slowly pressed the ACOG sight on his M4A1 closer to his right eye, peering through the sight in question as he casually observed a treeline several hundreds of meters in front of him across the small stream, his fellow compatriots also mirroring his actions as denoted by them raising their respective binoculars and weapon scopes in the same direction. Poking the barrel of his assault rifle through an opening amid the vegetation camouflaging them in an effort to get a better view of the treelines, Simon intently studies the forest on the horizon. It's not the trees nor the forest that caught his attention, it was something else.
From his current kneeling posture, Simon could clearly see within his field of vision what could only be described as an Elven settlement. His earlier suspicions were further corroborated by the long, sharp ears belonging to the populace inside the village, continuing with their daily lives, seemingly unaffected by the war. Rows of treehouses hung on the sides and some, on the branches of the large, age-old Alpine trees dotting the horizon, dwarfing their occupants living inside the forest in a small, humble commune.
The Elves continued with their chores ceaselessly, oblivious to the presence of the Reconnaissance Marines observing every bit of their lives as the men hid behind the strings of vegetation obscuring the left side of the small stream. The sound of the crystal clear liquid smashing through piles of rocks and dirt standing in their path drowned out whatever noises that had come from across the small body of shimmering water.
The Marines' Humvees and tanks, currently parked on lush, verdant fields hidden behind the tall grasses had shut off their usually obnoxious engines several minutes ago to save fuel. It was immediately followed by a rare silence dawning upon the area, which had already given off tranquil vibes as only the sound of the wind, water and birds chirping could be heard, alongside the barely audible noises coming from the Elven settlement. The morning feels peaceful, to say the least.
"2…4…6.." Silently murmuring under his breath, Simon slowly counted, taking his time as he leisurely hovered the reticle of his ACOG on several figures inside the small Elven village. Several elves can be seen lounging around as they carry all kinds of everyday goods, ranging from foods to household items, socializing with other elves along the way. "I got 8 adult males, all of them appear to be unarmed."
Immediately afterward, a whispering voice spoke up next to him, also reporting what the man had just seen.
"I see several women and children, walking around the village." The husky voice of John, a close colleague of Simon from the Hitman-3, can be heard whispering softly from his right, barely audible amidst the sound of their gear clanking and the stream's water. "You got it?"
Hearing this, Simon swiftly adjusted his line of sight, peering through the ACOG at whatever John had been looking at moments ago. He spent several short seconds trying to find the correct direction, his M4A1 rifle barrel, already protruding out of a small gap on the swaying tall vegetation in front of him, began darting left and right as it looked for the Elves in question, before abruptly stopping as Simon finally found what he was looking for. There, he can visibly see several groups of kids, accompanied by their mothers, currently chattering with each other while sitting on a cylindrical wooden log, watching as their sons and daughters played a friendly game of hide and seek, the children cheerily hiding from the seeker.
"Yeah, I see 'em. No hostiles, just a couple of ankle-biters fooling around, playing hide and seek, 'bout 240 meters away." Simon nonchalantly remarked with a soft voice barely louder than a whisper, responding to John's short inquiry as he moved the barrel of his rifle away from the unarmed group of Elves, not seeing the use in this current situation.
The two men can't help but let out a small, barely visible smile at the sight as they took in the mountains' natural beauty and the humble lives of their occupants, oblivious to the presence of the Marines observing them as they continued doing daily chores. It was a stark contrast to the busy urban lives of the Marines, most of them stationed in the ever-crowded and lively MCB Camp Pendleton.
"Hey John," The brunette was the first to break the silence, as he softly called out to his friend, all while setting his eyesight on the forest across the stream. "remember all the kids that'd run around the roadblock outside Italica couple of days ago? Playing tags and stuff."
"Yeah." His friend immediately responded, letting out a small chuckle as they reminisced the events that took place several days ago at the roadblock outside Italica, now merely a distant city far away from their current area of operations.
The rare, tranquil silence continues for a moment as it fills the air, alongside the gentle breeze sweeping across the fields as it quickly causes the grasses, especially the tall ones, to sway as a result of the wind suddenly picking up its pace.
That is until it is once again broken by several, barely audible rumbling sounds in the distance, accompanied by the familiar chopping noises of coalition helicopters flying, far away but surely approaching as the whipping sounds continue to reverberate in the air. The duo immediately furrowed their brows at the sudden development, looking around in confusion as they tried to find the source of the noise.
Simon immediately picked up his M4A1, looking through the triangle reticle of his ACOG as he darted the rifle around, traversing it left and right before finally stopping on several M1A1 tanks and AAVs approaching on the other side of the stream, followed by dozens of LAVs as their turrets turned left and right, searching for any targets to shoot at. He did a double-take at the group of armored columns across the body of water in front of him, neither he nor John were expecting them to be here.
"What the fuck?" He heaved out a small, quizzical murmur under his breath. He then proceeded to turn the safety of his rifle back to "on" before promptly turning the barrel skywards away from the Marine armored column, not wanting another case of friendly fire unfolding.
"Those guys are from RCT-5." To his right, John spoke up as he extended his arm through a gap in the vegetation brush, his fingers firmly pointed at several alphabets and numbers written on the side of AAVs slowly rumbling in the distance, barely discernible from their currently well-hidden position. "Probably reservists from 3/23, attached to the RCT itself. The guys at the back of the convoy look like they came from 2/5 ."
John's fingers then slowly drifted to the left at the back of the convoy, with his gloved hands firmly set on a mixed group of AAVs and Humvees, the infantry riding on them in a much more firm and professional posture compared to the reservists in front of them, their outdated gears and helmet making it painfully obvious of the unit they came from.
"Semper Sometimes. At least they got a bunch of active duty grunts to babysit all of the fucking weekend warriors running around doing retarded cowboy shit." Their arrival immediately earned themselves a sarcastic sneer from Simon, who immediately took the opportunity to poke fun at their part-time nature. John meanwhile took the moment to light up a cigarette, taking one out from a box strapped to his FLC vest before lighting it up, watching as RCT-5 began arriving en-masse from across the stream.
Pressing on the push to talk button of his radio, Simon immediately keyed the headset to the correct channel and frequency, before finally talking on it, as indicated by the sound of his headset buzzing.
"Hitman-2, this is Hitman 2-1, be advised, we've been observing the treeline for 45 minutes now. No signs of hostile forces." He paused for a moment, waiting in anticipation for a reply from the other side. Soon, the other side responded.
"Roger that Hitman 2-1." The voice on the other side immediately acknowledged his observation, the tone indicating that it's a certain Lt. Mistral, their platoon commander who immediately and unceremoniously cuts off the short conversation.
Finally ending the transmission, the brunette then slowly slides down from the small slopes containing the row of tall vegetation that he had been hiding behind earlier, the prickly sensation of the continent's grasses not fazing him at all as he picks up a binocular carefully placed on the brilliantly green ground before quickly turning to his left, followed by him gesturing towards his currently distracted red-haired Corpsman.
"Hey Doc," Simon called out to Clancy, the latter currently laying down on the ground of a grassy field just below the slope, his blue eyes, shimmering under the sunlight, were firmly set on the clear sky. It seems to be that he's busy daydreaming, gazing at the sky, currently in the process of dozing off with his M4A1 slung across his chest all while being surrounded by a variety of alien flowers. It only took Simon several words to snap him out of his current state. "come check this out."
Simon nudges his friend's shoulder with a binocular, gesturing towards the man to use it in the direction of his left hand, currently pointed across the small body of water whose sounds are actively drowning out whatever words that had come out from the brunette's mouth. Luckily for Simon, Clancy seemed to be listening, albeit with an exasperated facial expression, still on the ground dozing off.
"What the fuck is it, man?" Clancy slowly grumbled as he slowly got up from his previous laying down posture, before promptly turning to face his team leader, his right hand holding a binocular as he nudged his shoulder with the spotting equipment, gesturing towards the corpsman to use it.
"Just fucking see it for yourself."
"Fine." He immediately heaved a sigh of resignation, before lazily snatching the binocular from Simon's grip. Quickly pressing the device against his eyes, he can see several Marine armored vehicles approaching, accompanied by several M1A1 tanks, something that most of the Marines obscured behind the tall grasses had already noticed, thanks to the familiar sound of their gas turbine engine sweeping through the chilly air. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the noises belonged to tanks and armored vehicles currently in the possession of RCT-5 Marines. "Looks like the big bad, extra-motarded reservists attached to RCT-5 have arrived eh?"
His previous frown, which was visible on his exasperated face earlier, was immediately wiped off clean, now replaced with a small grin as he continues to intently observe the column moving on the dirt road several hundred meters up front, their turrets traversing left and right, an action that can only be described as hungry predators searching for its prey. On top of the cumbersome-looking Marine AAVs, rode several dozen infantrymen, standing out from the half-opened hatch as they poked their head upwards like a curious gopher, carefully scanning the surroundings for any threat. Then, something agitated the Marines in his line of sight which swiftly caused them to stop their vehicles, earning the corpsman's attention.
"The fuck are they doing?" Clancy suddenly remarked, narrowing his eyes at the increase of activity in mild curiosity.
Not even a moment later, Clancy's grinning face immediately disappeared, swept under the rug and replaced by a flabbergasted expression. With his eyes still glued on the binoculars, he watched in confusion as multiple Marine reservists jump out of their respective vehicles and AAVs, running around frantically before finally dropping to their knees or stomach, getting into a firing posture while the active-duty Marines behind them, obscured by rows of vehicles in the convoy, watches in confusion at the behavior of their fellow compatriots.
"What the fuck!?" Before Clancy could say anything, Simon immediately spoke up first, cutting him off before he could even let out a word. It seems that the sudden development across the shimmering stream had gained the attention of other Recon Marines hiding behind the ever-stretching lines of tall grasses on the left bank. His growing curiosity would soon be answered not in a way that he nor Clancy expected.
As if on cue, several gunshots rang out not a moment after Simon finished his sentence. Several more shots followed, crackling in the air as streaks of tracers fly wildly on the other side of the stream before ricocheting on the ground below them, as the inexperienced reservists began firing their weapon at a target unseen by the Recon Marines. Everyone, who had been hiding behind the scrub vegetation before, were immediately startled by the sudden but familiar noise of guns firing as they swiftly clutched their weapon in shock, their training kicking in as they raised their respective rifle barrels, trying to find whatever targets nor hostiles those weekend warriors were shooting at through their weapon sights and binoculars.
"What are they shooting at?!" Clancy yelled amidst the gunfire, hoping that someone would hear what he had just said as he took a peek at the reservists firing wildly into the forests, pouring hundreds of rounds of ammunition into the treeline in a hectic, one-sided firefight across the stream. The previously calm and peaceful air that had lingered in the valley has now been replaced with an uncontrollable frenzy, as tracers round skimmed over the treetops in brilliantly bright red strings of light, before finally hitting their unseen target within the rows of Alpine trees.
Fortunately for him, John had heard his question and quickly answered it, albeit with a short, unsatisfactory answer.
"I have no idea," John promptly shouted back at Clancy, his eyes still glued to his binoculars, scanning the chaotic scene in front of him. "we have no comms with that unit!"
Simon, who earlier had been undauntedly observing the horizon in front of him in silence, immediately lowered his M4A1, turning it away from the direction of the forest several hundred meters up front, as his eyes promptly widened in realization at the revelation of what the reservists were shooting at.
"Fuck!" The brunette suddenly screamed out, trying his best to appear as calm as possible. Despite the effort, the tone of horror slips into his voice anyway. "They're shooting at the Elven women and children!"
Seeing the seriously deteriorating situation, he swiftly got up from his previous kneeling position, abandoning his earlier cover of the tall grasses as he began yelling at the top of his lung towards the reservists across the river, hoping that they'll hear it despite the earsplitting roars of machine guns raking the forests, the bullets smashing apart the tall, Conifer-like Alpine trees that filled the area, cutting it apart in a second as hundred of tracers zoomed past an Elven treehouse, miraculously undamaged thanks to the horrible accuracy of the inexperienced part-time Marines.
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Simon audibly yelled, screaming out loud in the direction of the assailants, trying his best to control his emotion and keep calm despite the ongoing hectic frenzy. Evidently and unfortunately, his desperate plead fell on deaf ears, as the reservists continues their fire unabated, many of whom are currently crouched down in a firing posture, hunching over their service-issued weapons as they blasted away even the slightest movement that they see inside the previously quiet forest, pouring hundreds of rifle rounds into the treelines as plumes of white smokes filled the air as a result of their non-stop hail of lead.
Clancy meanwhile, spots several figures to his left approaching from behind with their guns ready and safeties turned off in his peripheral. Immediately, he shot a piercing glare at the clueless Marines to his left, their lock and loaded rifles indicating that they were preparing to fire at the Elven settlement.
"Do not engage." The word, coupled with his previous death glare and uncomfortably calm tone swiftly swayed away the Marines' previous decision to join the chaotic firefight currently unfolding in front of them.
Simon is still trying his best to gain their attention, waving his hands at the direction of the troublemakers, repeatedly yelling "Cease fire!" out loud in hopes of getting even a slight glance from them. Like his previous efforts, it's ultimately worthless as they continue their one-sided firefight.
The popping and crackling sounds of rifles firing filled the air, mixed in a cacophony with Mark-19 and 50. cal rounds being launched into the Elven settlement, the latter smashing apart treehouses in a flurry of tracers, the cylindrical 40mm grenades sometimes ricocheting on the ground before exploding mid-air, killing any unfortunate Elven civilians, most of whom are frantically running for cover as they desperately try to avoid the sudden and out of nowhere attack by the unseen assailants, using terrifying magic as they savagely blasted their villages with explosives.
Due to an ongoing traffic jam on the highway across the small stream, the active-duty Marines in RCT-5 who are currently moving at the back of the convoy did nothing to stop the one-sided battle, the reservists' vehicles, older and in a bad shape, piled up on the road, obscuring their view from knowing what's currently unfolding in front of their armored column. Hundreds of tanks, armored vehicles, and Humvees lined the road, while others parked by the roadside blocked the view of anything happening upfront.
The 25mm Bushmaster autocannon of the RCT-5's LAVs clatters loudly, letting loose several dozen streaks of bright, vermillion light at the settlement. The cumbersome bullets ripping through the leaves belonging to the age-old yet tall Alpine trees surrounding the Elven commune as they shredded multiple children hiding behind them in a bloody gory mess, perhaps too late to realize that their hide and seek playtime was over.
The trio watches as an M1A1 tank fires a single high explosive round, softly jerking backward momentarily due to the heavy recoil of their 120mm gun. Through his rifle scope, Simon stares in horror as several Elven boys and girls, whose heads peeked out from the relative safety of an Alpine tree, disappear in a massive explosion, sending plumes of smoke in the air that engulfed half of the forest. Nothing remained at the area around the tree beside a pool of bright, crimson blood splattered all over the trees behind them, while shattered organs and smashed apart body parts lay on the grasses below, whose previously vibrant green colors had turned dark red, stained in a gory bloodbath.
A Humvee skirted past the Recon Marines, before suddenly screeching in a sudden halt. The sudden noise immediately earned the Marines' attention, all of them staring at the Humvee with a quizzical expression as several men in Marine combat fatigues jumped out of it, frantically fumbling over their rifles as they kicked the windowless door open, not even bothering to close it back. They immediately crouched onto their stomach in a firing posture, their weapon barrels protruding out of the bushes along the watery stream. It took only a second for them to realize the identity of the men running out of the vehicles that had just stopped behind them.
"Sir!" Simon instinctively called out, jogging over to their Battalion Commander currently kneeling in a firing posture. If it weren't for his cumbersome gears, he'd have run towards Godfather already, unfortunately, that wasn't the case right now. "Those reservists in RCT-5 are shooting at civilians!"
The battalion staff and POGs paid him no heed, as they began launching volleys of 40mm grenades towards the forests, their rounds landing short of their targets as they hit the ground, kicking up a geyser of dirt and grasses upwards in a small but intense explosion. Clancy and John can only shake their heads in a mix of disgust and dismay, not only at the sight of their superiors shooting at civilians but also the fact that their accuracy when firing their rifles are atrociously bad, missing half of their intended targets and instead of shredding apart tree's leaves and branches, turning them full of holes.
"We have been observing that forest for the past 45 minutes, No hostiles and only civilians! Cease fire!" Once again, Simon's effort was fruitless as the fate of the village was finally sealed by the launch of dozens worth of Hellfire missiles from Viper attack helicopters circling above, putting up a show featuring dazzling strings of light behind the munitions as they zoomed past their heads at supersonic speed before promptly smashing into the forest canopy. "Cease fire immediately!"
The projectiles exploded almost immediately after breaking through the tree-tops, engulfing the forest in multiple bright, amber explosions as the grounds shook from the missiles' impact. The fiery inferno was immediately followed by plumes of black smoke rising from the now destroyed Elven settlement, the forests obscured by the intense, burning flames burning on tall trees. The Recon Marines can only watch in dismay with their mouths wide agape, unable to do anything to save the Elves from the reservists, the latter just as confused as they are, standing around with confused and scared expressions, still recovering from the initial shock from the earlier one-sided firefight. Evidently and unfortunately, it's now obvious to the men of the 1st Recon that none of the weekend warriors ever saw the actual figures of the villagers during the engagement, mistaking them for legionnaires instead.
A quiet, eerie silence dawned the area, the once lively settlement inside the forest turned into a mere burning husk of torn-apart Conifers and smashed apart tree houses, many of them have holes blasted out on them by Marines heavy weapons as smokes can be seen flying out of the large, man-made opening. Only the sound of confused, inaudible shouting from RCT-5 active-duty Marines and the sizzling noises of the fiery flames engulfing the forests, the inferno helping to cremate the dead bodies cut apart by machine gun rounds as denoted by the corpses lying around the underbrushes along the tree line.
"Centurion-1 to Hitman, who cleared that bird hot!?" By now, everyone had taken notice of the situation. The radio slowly turned into a jumbled mess as officers and enlisted alike tried to gouge out any information on what had just happened.
"Nothing on our comms, over." Despite Captain Walt answering the question, it did nothing to help quell the frenzy currently engulfing all of the frequency on the radio.
Finally deciding it is safe, John slowly emerged from the rows of tall grasses that they had been hiding behind, poking his head out at the direction of the barbequed remains of the village with a dismayed facial expression. Clancy followed suit from behind him as both of them gazed out at the sizzling fires burning down the forest, both of them seemingly mesmerized yet disgusted at the same time by the dazzling inferno, their eyes sweeping the fiery horizon. Not a moment later, the smell of sulfur and cordites swept through the air as a result of the occasional, chilly mountain breeze, a reminder of what had just happened in front of them.
"Jesus fucking Christ…" John mutters, still trying to make sense of what had just happened as he can only stare blankly at the sizzling fires burning the forest.
They'd have no time to contemplate and think about what had just happened, as they immediately received the orders to move out yet again.
A/N : Here's a double release, notes for acronyms and military slangs on the next chapter.