Chapter 6

"So, what tanks would you guys want?"

We had just finished driving Andrew and his entire team back to our base, and currently, I'm sitting across from him & several of the lower-ranking commanders in his flight squadron.

I looked at them again. The leftmost boy is Jacob, a baseball player from California. He has curly, dirty blonde hair and orange eyes, on a smooth, calm face. He didn't speak much, but according to Andrew, whenever he does speak, it hits home. He doesn't seem to really show much emotion either, kind of like what you might expect from a KMM student. Then there's Mason from Texas, an average but still intimidating guy (thanks to his temper, which could rival a stack of TNT) with a Bowie Knife constantly in hand (Jim Bowie is his idol). Beside him is Jake from Maryland. He's a bit taller than me, with caramel hair and black eyes, and a pointy jaw. For some reason, he always has a mysterious, faint smile hanging on his face, and he closes his eyes from time to time like Mika. Then there's Andrew himself, Takashi, and a Cuban guy Andrew didn't seem to get along very well with (ideology clashes, as expected). All I've heard is that he's called Fidel, like the famous Cuban commander. He has that trademark scowl, and always seemed to be chewing gum. Weird guy.

"Well," Andrew said hesitantly, "I know a pretty nice tank, but for one thing, I doubt whether there is such a tank, and two, it's going to be pretty darn expensive…"

"Why don't you buy it on your system?"

He sighed. "We spent the start-up points buying weapons." He raised the Thompson submachine gun he kept slung over his shoulder. "I plucked this and a Colt 1911 pistol as well as a few frag grenades, and my friends bought mostly U.S Army gear. Fidel had his own taste, though."

"Pardon?"

"AK-47 assault rifle, Makarov pistol, and RGD-33 antitank grenades. Go figure."

"Oh well …" I looked at the Cuban boy. "So, why don't you do missions?"

He slid his phone slid across the desk. "Apparently, God can only hand out missions until we've entered a school. We asked Kay about it first. She was a bit hesitant. Not that she rejected us apparently, but she had to figure out how to sneak us in from Saunders's students. Then there's Alisa."

"What with her?"

A glower that would've rivaled Fidel's scowl crossed his face. "She's such a damn left-wing traditionalist when it comes to boys in tankery! She yelled at us for a consecutive 25 minutes when Kay went to the library to pick up files, all that 'boys will stain tankery with their filth' garbage! It's so infuriating! And I had to keep Mason from sending a few Browning Automatic Rifle rounds at her head!" he pointed at the mentioned gun sitting in Mason's lap.

"So, you ran off?"

"You think we had a choice?"

"By commandeering their planes?"

"No. We had some points left when we were about to run off. We decided an escape by air is the most plausible. We were talking over what planes to buy when we found Takashi hiding in a closet in the room. He was hiding from his rather obsessive girlfriend, apparently. Since he heard all, we had to take him with us."

"Well, back to the tank?"

He sagged visibly at the mention. "Alright. I plan to get a T14 Assault Tank, the big thing that didn't even had a prototype. Mason said he could use a Mark I Grizzly, Jacob wants a Pershing with Panther armor plates, and Jake wanted a Firefly with T34 Calliope rocket launchers. Takashi…"

"M24 Chaffee, thank you."

"Good. And Fidel?" he turned toward the teenager, who was sitting against a few ammo crates.

He thought of it. Then he smirked.

"I might do well with an IS-4 heavy tank."

"WHAT!?" the U.S boys shouted in unison.

"That's a postwar tank!" Andrew yelled at him. "Besides, my friend here isn't a mobile wallet! Do you have an idea how expensive that is!?"

"I respect the will of anyone." I said, cutting them off before a miniature Bay of Pigs attack can break out.

Andrew looked at me. "Do you think there'll be any chances of getting something like what I ask?" he didn't even sound like he had any hope.

"In fact, the tank I use doesn't even have its design completed, yet I'm riding it. And the T14 had a produced chassis and complete designs. So yeah, I think so."

He raised an eyebrow. "What's your tank?"

"Panzer VII Lowe super heavy."

Everyone winced at the words "super-heavy", but Takashi completely paled.

"But that – that will be a monster!" he stammered. "I've read about it! 150-mm howitzer for a main gun, 140-mm sloped frontal armor and 100-mm side armor, with a total weight of over 90 tons! It will be virtually unstoppable to all small schools, and immune to over 80% of Saunders's best tanks, including their Easy Eight Shermans and Fireflies!"

THAT made everyone realize what a mechanical terror I pilot. They stared at me in stunned silence. Mason, though, seemed more pleased than surprised with me decision, and gave me a raised eyebrow.

Not willing to get into too much attention, I drew my phone and scrolled across the "Prototype" section of the tank shop.

"Well let's see … T-50 Airborne model … Mendeleev Rybinsk super-heavy tank … aha!"

I checked the price. Good. Rather affordable.

I looked at the commanders. "We might want to go somewhere without other eyes."

A few minutes later…

We stood in front of the massive bulk of the T14.

"You seriously sure you want this tank?" I asked Andrew. "It uses the M4 Sherman's gun, you know, and that gun isn't known for high penetration."

"Well, the T14 is an assault tank." He said, "and they have to have proper protection and a proper gun."

His subordinates are all pouring over their tanks, with the only exception being Takashi, who is talking to Miho.

"Hey Takashi, something bothering you?" I asked.

"Actually …. Yes." He turned at me. "I'm worried about what we're supposed to be planning to do in the future."

Upon that reminder, I checked my phone. Confirmed.

"Well, I don't know for sure, but I have a plan."

"Spit it out."

"Well, you see, since Oarai is a school that's just starting its tankery," I said, with the expression Adolf Hitler possibly wore in one of his speeches, filled with ambition, "I plan to turn the tankery team into a full-scale army, with land troops, navy and air force. I've assembled an antiair net as you have seen, but I'm still rather short on personnel. If any of your friends don't want to do tankery, they're welcome to join."

"Really?"

I turned. It was one of the boys who aren't in a tank crew, and don't follow any of Andrew's subordinates. There are approximately 10 of them, and they fly the Dauntless, and they were the ones standing outside the shed when I was talking to Andrew.

"Yeah. But, if you really come," I asked, "who'll fly your planes?"

He smirked. "I have a few friends, all boys, who would like a place in the team. One of them happens to be in Oarai at this point."