The two Minutemen both gave thumbs up to a figure so far away it would take a scope to see the gestures. But the sloshing they heard through the mists assured them that it was seen.

Their crew's armored personnel carrier was delivered so far south that it was nearly instantly under threat of getting stuck in the marshes. The boat Admiral Zao's people brought them on couldn't make any headway at all. So they had set out on foot, hunting as stealthily as they could. If they could just catch the prey that diverted them from the truly bloodthirsty battle waging to the north, maybe that battle would not be any more dangerous when they returned to it.

And then they had managed a minor miracle. Not only was the wayward tank that the Railroad had found actually wayward. One of the two had managed to spot the thing before its crew had spotted them. They ducked down and struggled to find the power armor of their private in the mist. But once they had, it was time to put the plan in action.

The power armor melded in with the atmosphere, barely painted in a nigh transparent coating of light blue over the metal and a white musket and lightning with stars insignia on the torso. It sloshed its way through the marsh, sparingly using its thrusters to push its way through the muck. When it passed the other Minutemen, the power armor fired off its GATLING LASER at its target.

The tank seem suitably interested in it and distracted from all else. The double barrels rotated toward the power armor at a menacing pace. The power armor remained in one spot, nearly jogging its legs to keep from sinking too deep into the marsh while allowing its jets to cool down. The laser kept up intermittent bursts of fire against the tank to hold its attention. Only when the barrels were actually aimed did the armor propel itself out of the way.

The hidden Minutemen clutched their helmets as they were showered with fresh mud. One barely popped his head up, wiping his WELDING GOGGLES clear to determine the current state of affairs. The power armor had been missed, and had restarted its course inland while firing on the tank. The tank behaved as if it was more of a curiousity than a threat, tracking the armor with its double cannons.

When the armor had made some distance, it stopped. Now the laser fire was aimed at a single spot on the tank, focused as if the previous spattering was a mistake. (It wasn't and that was part of the plan.) Once the barrels were leveled the power armor took off again. Only now, it traveled straight away from the tank.

That may have been its mistake. This time the tank fired one barrel, corrected its aim, and then fired the other barrel. There was a brutal clang from the smoke and debris that had accompanied the two explosions.

"Did she...?", one Minutemen mused from his crouched position.

The other peered as hard as he could into the fog. He made out the armor, still mobile but with running dent that had destroyed the jets and immobilized the arm of it. It waddled off in the swamp, barely walking after the shell had glanced off it and blown the power armor off its feet and thrown it from where it stood after exploding in the ground nearby. The laser weapon it had carried rested on the other side of the craters made by the two concussive impacts.

"She got lucky.", the other remarked realizing that had the power armor taken that shot dead on instead of at the shallow angle it had, it wouldn't be off line but obliterated. Pilot included.

The tank began to grind its treads. The entire vehicle reseated itself with the intent to put the power armor and its pilot out of the tank's crew's misery. And in doing so exposed its backside, still glowing from repeated laser fire.

"And she did her job.", the Minutemen on lookout stated. "Time to do ours."

The other only nodded as he double checked the QUAD BARRELED MISSILE LAUNCHER. "Just like the Colonel ordered. Fire all four and assess when I reload you."

"Got it.", his partner replied as he leveled the weapon. And he didn't hesitate between shots. Just lined up the weapon with it's site and boom. Boom. BOOM. Pink.

"Reload, we've gotta/" The Minuteman was cut-off as he was pushed onto his back from the pressure wave. Even the still running power armor was forced to face plant in the mud. The idea had been correct, that repeated laser fire would help weaken the armor of the tanks and make it that much more easier to pierce with missile fire. So the first rocket was nearly completely deflected into the ground behind the tank, its hit and subsequent explosion did dent the armor. The second had embedded in the dent, but the explosive armor tossed itself from the tank and carried the missile's explosion with it. The third had actually opened the hole in the tank. The fourth then had a way in. And ignited the ammunition stores as well as the crew. So instead of the echoing sounds of human misery, a pressure wave and shards of what were once tank spread out over the swamp.

The Minuteman picked himself up. "Where's that reload?", he questioned. Then he realized his partner's leg had been pierced by a blade fashioned out of the raining shrapnel. "Don't worry, I got you." He wrestled with the groaning soldier in an effort to pull the metal from the leg, and then pull a STIMPACK from his belt in order to stab him with it.

"You pull it together. I'm going to see if she's drowned in her armor or just concussed. You are going to help me peace through that...well, the spot that tank was at. And pulling our APC back onto the boat."