"Run this by me again. You did what to your tank?" Fick asked as he looked Isara in the eye. Behind the girl, Lieutenant Gunther and Sergeants Melchiott and Largo, the Edelweiss, the Seventh Platoon's battle tank, had had pontoons installed onto its sides. Angular pockets full of air, they were apparently based on what Isara had seen on the BTR-60 and BTR-80 amphibious personnel carriers the Russians had brought over into the American sector. The man also noted a pair of propellers on the back, with most of the attachments being removable.

"I made it amphibious," Isara smiled rather brightly, "Sure, it's untested, but I'm certain it'll work, seeing as I based as much of it as I could off the BTRs you and the Russian platoon that's coming with us will be using to pass over the shallow area of the river," and she took a step back toward the vehicle. Gently tapping the metal braces and additions that would allow the tank to cross alongside the transport vehicles, the girl smiled again. Brad, Ray and the other Marines also seemed completely dumbfound, while Squad 7 was... Well, the stares many of the Militiamen had gave off the vibe of uncertainty so common amidst the ranks.

Fick blinked, then grabbed Welkin by the arm and dragged him off to the side, stating, "I don't want to sound like a pessimist or insult your sister's knowhow, seeing as I know she's the one maintaining your tank, but do you trust her building an amphibious device like that within the span of five hours?" as he stared the older brother in the eye. This was, by all accounts, insanity. If it worked, Fick swore to himself he'd eat his boot, but didn't voice it.

Welkin, however, smiled and nodded, "I fully trust Isara's capabilities, Lieutenant. She's done more than a few impossible things with technology when we were kids and she knows every bolt on the Edelweiss better than anyone. If there's anyone that can modify it to cross the river, it's her."

Fick narrowed his lips, partially in disbelief at the shit he was hearing, partially worried. He asked, "And if the device fails, or there's a burst somewhere, or if you start sinking? It's still several tons of steel, armor and ammunition in that damn thing. You would both be stuck at the bottom of the river, with our nearest recovery vehicle a good ten minutes away at the FOB outside of town."

"I know," He replied, confident.

The American Lieutenant licked his own dry lips and said, "Guess it's the best we have for heavy armor support," before nodding and patting Welkin on the shoulder. He then said, "We've secured some rowboats for inserting the rest of your Platoon with us. Everything else will have to be done under cover of Darkness... Not to mention under heavy smoke. Leave that last part to our artillery."

"Roger," Welkin nodded, "The operation'll begin soon, then. See you on the other side, Lieutenant."

"See you there," Fick sighed, then marched to Brad and a confused Ray, who was back on Ripped Fuel. He told them, "Looks like we are going to wade across a pond with a tank on our asses. Pomorenko confirmed their BTRs should be able to handle the crossing no problem and we'll get smoke cover as we cross onto the other side. Keep us safe from the enemy for at least a bit."

"The Lieutenant is batshit, ain't he?" Ray hummed, "Like, not to talk shit about his sis or anything, but I wouldn't climb into that thing, even with all the prep she's done," and he offered Brad some. Brad waved it off, then checked his NVGs and the IR scope, which he'd reinstalled onto the rifle. Ray shrugged and took another pill, stopping when Trombley pushed his hand away from it and shouldered his MG.

"Thanks, Whopper Junior," Joked Brad. He looked over to Fick and asked, "We gonna be riding on top or are we going to be inside the BTRs, sir?"

"Inside," He replied, "Don't want any of you falling into the water with the gear you're carrying, no matter how shallow the water here is," only turning to watch as Pomorenko and his staff were doing the last checks on the BTRs' seals and shit. He breathed a sigh, then told Brad, "To be fair, trusting in the Edelweiss's ability to float is about the same as trusting these BTRs being maintained enough to cross without taking on water, but..."

"We're Marines," Brad quipped, "We can swim."

"Not like we wanna," Ray murmured. He peered behind Brad as he noticed a little white in his green cammies, then asked, "Brad, did you take one in the ass?" which got a few snorts from the other Marines. Brad rolled his eyes and nodded, to which Ray snorted and said, "Why does it feel like taking it in the ass is gonna become a common thing for HITMAN?"

And that caused both Marines and Militia to burst into laughter. Brad snorted and replied, "Ray... Shut up," as they turned toward the BTRs. Another half-an-hour later, the Marines had boarded the BTRs and were waiting with their Russian counterparts for the signal to go. That would be the deployment of smoke shells onto the other side of the river, all while Helicopters would prosecute targets farther in the rear with cover.

Fick held a portable radio between his legs while his rifle lay on the floor of the BTR. He radioed, "All HITMAN and LUCKY elements... Stand by," then leaned back and turned to one of the drivers. He asked, "This thing is sealed tight, right?!" all while his thoughts wandered to the possibility of sinking. He genuinely didn't know if Pomorenka managed to fully clear out corruption. Or at least enough for the seals of the amphibious transport to hold.

"Tight as virgin nun, Lieutenant!" The man shot back with a grin, "Don't worry. Mama Lyuda is fine! You just stay nice and cozy!"

Ray murmured, "So brace for a little bath, noted," as he racked the bolt of his M4. A few nervous laughs were all that came as a reply this time, only for silence and the simple idling of the engine to fill the hold, alongside the turret traverse mechanism's shifting gearbox. Distant thunder echoed as Brad checked his wristwatch. He nodded, all while the reports came over the radio.

Smoke shells detonated in airburst above the AO, a curtain of smoke suddenly obscuring the Imperials' LOS. The engines of all vehicles revved and, aboard the Edelweiss, Isara secretly prayed that the tank's modifications would withstand. She looked back at Welkin, who simply offered a kind smile of reassurance, before breathing in and out. In the lead of the procession of armored vehicles and rowboats, the Edelweiss rolled forward as the chop-chop-chop of heli blades filled the air, followed by the hiss of rocket pods letting off volleys that detonated with muffled, distant thumps.

As the Edelweiss rolled into the water, its flotation device activated. The vehicle bounced upward at first, unsteady in the water... But it slowly adjusted, beginning to float. Isara beamed as she saw her vision port stabilize, even on the running water. Welkin gave a nod of approval as the vehicle's propellers kicked into gear. He then looked up as the Radio played cheers in English and Russian toward Isara, watching the BTRs roll into the water next to the rowboats of Gallian troops.

Back inside HITMAN's BTR, a slight puddle had started forming at their feet, causing Fick to have to lift his M16 onto his legs as he spoke over the radio, "Minor water leak in Lead BTR. We'll make it, though..." while he watched the crew in their black hats roll them over the water. The whirr of the water jet filled the compartment with noise, but the Marines still braced.

Ray murmured, "Hell of a fucking day I picked not to keep my floaties with me!"

"Don't get your ammo wet!" Brad barked back at his friend, then looked at Garza and Trombley. He spoke, "At least we left Rolling Stones behind on the other riverbank! No need to worry about a Civvie taking a bullet! All Marines, brass check! Eyes open! HITMAN 2-1, we're rolling in to kick some ass, oorah!?" all while giving a quick once-over of his M4 and the IR scope.

"OORAH!" Replied the man's fellow Marines, Fick included. The Russians shot back with their own 'Ura' as the turret swiveled, the 14,7 KORD MG letting loose through dissipating smoke as the Russian crewmen called out targets. Even as water slowly filled the compartment, Garza remained steady, murmuring to himself, "This shit reminds me of Nasiryiah, man!"

"Don't lose your Kevlar this time!" Trombley shot back as he checked his M249.

The roar of engines powering over the water filled their ears. Following up, the tank rolled first over the embankment, much to the surprise of Imperial troops. The 88mm cannon snapped off a shot at the targets ahead as flames began to burn, an AP round punching through the wall of a building as the tank rolled onto one of the roads by the side of the embankment. The BTRs followed soon, disgorging two platoons' worth of infantry, including Russian paratroopers.

Assault weapons fire filled the air as the rowboats also got up, with Alicia running up to join Brad and the others. Overhead, the Helicopters moved in, the smoke dispersing under the whirlwind caused by their Rotorblades. The BTRs' guns fired, streams of tracer fire filling the area ahead as the Sergeant, her scouts, Rosie's Shock Troops and Largo's AT teams moved up.

Brad sat behind rubble, ordering his side of the platoon forward while Fick and a few other men moved for similar positions. He looked and watched as Alicia dived into cover beisde him, firing from her magazine-fed Gallian-2 semi-auto rifle. Ducking back into cover as bullets whizzed over her head, she said, "We really stirred the Hornet's Nest on this one!"

"Better kill all the fucking hornets!" Brad shot back, a hint of Deja Vu hitting him. He looked over to Ray and Trombley as both engaged from behind the Edelweiss, which quickly detached its flotation device and rolled forward, coaxial MG loosing volleys of bullets to suppress an enemy counterattack. Trombley squeezed off bursts, a murderous grin on his face as the Shock Troopers advanced beside him, Rosie firing her SMG at the enemy with impunity.

The BTRs rolled forward as mobile cover, bullets ringing off of their hulls as they supported the Edelweiss with anti-infantry fire. Bullets snapped from rifles and snipers like Marina and Pappy popped off round after round, taking out the enemy's own supporting elements. Fick told his men, "Enemy tank depot up ahead! Looks like we caught'em with their pants down! Lieutenant Gunther, I want AP fire on these things! Anyone with AT rounds or charges, destroy them! Everyone else, on me! We're making a push for the enemy's Command Post near the bridge controls!"

The roars of affirmative replies came back as the infantry followed the BTRs. A pair rolled off onto a street to the right, firing machine guns and acting as mobile cover for the Russian platoon. A sniper round snapped past Pomorenko's ear, but he ignored it, firing at the enemy furiously. He dipped into cover and reloaded the AK, before watching one of his own men take a bullet to his steel helmet and collapse to the floor. He called out for a Medic in Russian, then poked out and fired a GP-25 grenade at the Sniper's housing.

Espera let out various swears in Spanish as he pushed forward, with Brad telling him, "Poke, settle the fuck down! We've got no time for Illegal Language!" as he snapped off a shot at another Sniper. A Cobra overhead swiveled about, its 20mm gatling letting loose a volley of rapid fire at the husk of a building in the rear. Brad cheered at that, then turned back and barked something to Trombley.

The Machine Gunner ran up to them and ducked into cover beside another collapsed building as the Edelweiss rolled over onto the street, its cannon firing. The MG Gunner covered his ears and complained, "Fuck, that was loud...!" while Brad zeroed in on another target. Seeing that, Trombley ceased his complaints and set up on a collapsed wall beside him, bipod on and MG already roaring.

The Imps returned fire, snipers and their own Scouts shooting at the group. A pair of Imperial Anti-Tank Lancers, clad in some of the goofiest armor to date, turned toward the platoon of BTRs and the Edelweiss and hefted their own Anti-Tank lances at the team, while a manned Light Tank rolled up from the rear. The latter was destroyed by a Hydra rocket from the Cobra above.

The former were engaged by Marines and VDV, AR-caliber bullets puncturing their armor plating and spraying blood all across the floor as the men collapsed. Behind them, Shock Troopers replied as another tank rolled forward. It was destroyed by a side shot from the Edelweiss as the modern infantry and the Gallians pushed forward, the latter barely able to keep up with Brad and his men.

Ray patted them on the shoulder with a laugh as he ran past, firing his M4 before taking cover beside the husk of a tank. Brad turned toward Alicia and Rosie and reloaded his rifle, then said, "Racist Rita, on me with your shock troops!"

"It's Rosie, Sergeant!" She shot back, though she still followed orders. Alicia, meanwhile, joined the Marines and VDV on a flanking movement. Brad snorted and loaded an HE frag into his grenade launcher, then fired it, the impact and subsequent detonation kicking up a cloud of dust and cratering the husk of a building at the rear. She knelt beside him with the rest of her squad, then asked, "What's the game plan!?"

"Trombley's gonna cover our asses! We're bounding across to the other square, calling out targets for the Cobras and Apaches! Lieutenant Fick, Sergeant Pomorenko, Sergeant Melchiott and the others are already moving to flank the bastards left over on the right! I think the BTRs are providing them support while we got the tank!" He shot back, then scoffed as bullets scraped the burning armor plate of the tank husk they were taking cover beside. He fired back.

Rosie sighed and said, "No better plan!?"

"Afraid not!" He replied as he watched Trombley running toward them. He dropped onto his stomach, shouldered the LMG and opened fire, small puffs of dust marking where the bursts struck. Rosie scoffed, annoyed, then looked back to her fellow soldiers, many of which were younger than her. She turned to Brad and gave a wary nod of approval, before Brad yelled, "BOUNDING!" as he surged forward under cover from Trombley and the others.

Rosie rolled her eyes and followed along with the rest of her platoon, all of them firing their SMGs on the run to keep the enemy suppressed, even as bullets whizzed over their heads. The Edelweiss's main gun roared again and a new crater appeared on the facade of the building they were engaging. Reaching some rubble they could use for cover, they were met by two extra enemy platoons.

Ray also joined them now, noting, "Well, we got a situation!"

"What is it, Ray?!" Brad barked as bullets zipped past them.

Ray winced, "Whole new company of enemy Armor's rolling up on us. El-Tee and the Scouts spotted it rolling up, so we're gonna be knee-deep in shit unless the Birds turn and engage," which caused Brad to let out a sigh of desperation. There was always something, wasn't there. The group watched the helicopters wave off and open fire with guided missiles toward the enemy tanks that were moving.

"Guess that means we're going forward alone," Rosie murmured, "On your marks, Sarge."

Brad sighed, loaded grenades, hefted the launcher and fired at the gathered platoon of enemies. At least they had the Edelweiss and a pair of BTRs supporting them, or so he thought as he heard the vehicles roll over. Their snipers took out enemy anti-tank units while the tank and IFVs rolled forward, the former's main cannon roaring. An HE shell detonated amidst the ranks of a platoon of Imps trying to reposition.

Allied infantry pushed forward, Brad radioing, "This is HITMAN 2-1, advancing on target building! Stand by!" before leading the assault toward the entrenched enemy position near the lever house. The armored vehicles pushed forward slowly, supporting the infantry advance, Rosie and her shooters gunning down a platoon of hostiles combined. The second imp platoon saw the approaching enemy units and, without a second thought, threw their weapons down.

Brad pushed up with his unit, Ray putting the barrel of his rifle to the head of an enemy AT lancer. The Sergeant then turned toward the rest of the allied troops as they advanced and radioed, "Hitman 2-1 to all HITMAN and LUCKY elements... Gatehouse secured. Moving in to ensure the controls are still fine," before he moved past their new POWs. He turned to Rosie and said, "Not bad."

She nodded, "Ain't so bad yourself, Sarge..." and stopped to watch him enter the building. She sighed, scratching the back of her neck and murmuring, "Swear to God, we could do without you guys being this cocky..." then turned and walked toward their unit. As the groups rendezvoused near by the bridge, they cleared the path for US Armor and other support elements to roll over.

Brad was sitting on the sandbag wall that had been built around the control house, drinking from his canteen as Fick approached. The Lieutenant said to him, "Good work, Brad. We might get put in for commendations for this one," as he sat down beside him. Brad looked him over and saw a few new scratches and a couple bullets stuck in his vest. Nathaniel looked at himself, sighed and said, "Took a couple of SMG rounds while we were clearing the buildings. Should see the other guy, though."

Brad snorted, then said, "Well, we took the infrastructure back without losses, at least... Locals are gonna be pissed about having to rebuild their homes, though," as he capped his canteen. Fick replied with a nod, looking toward where Squad 7 and the rest of the platoon were sat. Espera himself was exchanging some words with Isara, which Brad commented on by saying, "We need to keep that guy away from minorities."

Fick actually let a short laugh slip at that, then said, "Poke's hopefully just joking."

"Isara's laughing, so there's that," Brad shrugged, "Her brother, though," and pointed at Welkin, who sat there with his arms crossed, "Doesn't seem to happy about it," then watched their Humvees rolling over. The RTOs had gone over the bridge with trucks to retrieve their transports, setting them up beside the road, with Ray being the first to disembark. He gave the LT a quick salute and looked around, which made Brad quip, "Most of them are underage, Ray."

Ray snorted at that, then narrowed his lips. He looked at his friend and replied, "Not looking for pussy, Brad. Just... Fuck, man..." and waving his hands around at the damaged and destroyed buildings, the wrecks of the tanks in the depot and even the dead enemies being piled up on the side of the rubble-laced road ahead. There were certain layers of fucked, Ray thought to himself, and this seemed to be up there with some of the worst.

"Alternate universe World War 2 playing out before us hit you too?" Brad asked, well aware of what Ray was hinting at. He sighed as his friend nodded in confirmation, then patted him on the shoulder and told him, "Don't think about it too much, Ray. Gotta keep our heads in the game if we wanna win whatever's coming up... And I think things are bound to get weirder."

"Speaking of," Fick replied, "Command got our early reports. They're going to start shipping our old stock over immediately..." Only to see clear-cut confusion on his Marines' faces. Though Brad seemed to realize, going by the widening eyes, Fick still clarified to them calmly, Meaning we'll need to train these people on how to use LAWs, M16s and M60s soon enough. We're back to babysitting duty like we were in Iraq for a little while until the next operation. Think of that what you will."

The concern that now filled the air was sort of palpable...