Chp. 17: Momentum
November 28, 2015
Outskirts of Misko
General LaPointe came marching across the pontoon bridge with Sejour and a small security detail. A small number of journalists sat on the far bank, watching the man make his statement. When he reached the far end, the officer in charge of the engineers guarding the crossing stepped forward and rendered a salute.
"General, welcome to Misko! Courtesy of the First Compagnie de Combat of the 18th Infantry Regiment." He announced in a commanding bellow.
"Captitane, excellent work. Your orders are to maintain this position until further notice." LaPointe replied.
"Oui, General!"
They exchanged salutes once more and LaPointe ascended the bank to lay eyes on Misko itself. He spotted a few of the reporters scurrying towards him.
"General, sir!" They all said, almost all in different accents.
"Everyone, this is not the appropriate time to take questions. This offensive is still underway and I must lead it. I will be sure that my public affairs officer informs you of when the opportunity comes." He replied, holding up a hand.
He walked on, even as a few insisted. His guards pushed up ahead to meet with engineers manning a couple of machine gun nests at the crest of the slope. The sight before him was bittersweet: the ravages of war had hit all of it. The town had been devoid of a population before the attack. Now it would likely remain that way for years. He looked back as the AMX-10PC that served as his command vehicle drew near. It stopped on the side of the road as several VBCIs passed by. LaPointe hurried inside to look at his maps and converse with Colonel Emand.
"Driver, move us to a better position to set up a forward headquarters…you should see some trees and ruins to the right." He called towards the driver's compartment.
"Yes General!" The man replied.
The small group of vehicles hurried out of the way of everyone else. The forces crossing the bridges were the first wave of reinforcements for the troops who'd made the initial crossing. As soon as they reached their allies, the Emmerians would again advance northwards to expand their bridgehead. As fresh armor crossed, VABs and TRM tank transporters hauled casualties back to the south. LaPointe settled down in front of his main map, and his air liaison tapped his shoulder.
"Report from the morning's photo-reconnaissance sorties, sir." She explained.
LaPointe accepted them with a grunt and skimmed through the contents.
"It appears the Estovakians have formed their next defensive line around the port of Dumond. One of the Air Force's electronic reconnaissance aircraft also detected radio traffic indicating the Estovakian field HQ has been moved there. A lot of communications going between the port and their theater-level command at Bartolomeo Fortress." He explained.
Emand accepted the papers and gave them the same read-through. He rubbed away the line representing where the Stovies were and drew a new one around the city.
"We should get in touch with the Navy and see if they've monitored any activity of note in the vicinity of the harbor." He advised.
"They might be trying to evacuate them; they're cut off from the rest of the Stovies' forces." LaPointe agreed.
"That makes them an even bigger priority, then."
The General found his crew helmet and plugged it into the radio. He checked the frequency as he keyed his microphone; time was of the essence.
"Emperor 3, this is Emperor 6, are you there?" He asked.
"Go ahead, Emperor 6." Colonel Laurent replied.
"At our current rate of advance, and factoring in Estovakian resistance, how soon will we reach Dumond?"
"I would estimate…two to three days. Taking it? A week, perhaps; the Estovakian force appears to have split. Even then, they'll dig in with their backs to the sea. The Estovakians still have a regiment holding Bartolomeo…and three battalions to hold road junctions and the port of Naceri. I would want to consult with Emperor 2, but the Bartolomeo garrison could send forces to relieve them."
LaPointe glanced at Emand.
"Colonel, do we have an estimate of how much of the Estovakian force in this area we destroyed?" He asked carefully.
"Estimates are still somewhat undecided, but the first wave repelled at least two battalion-size attacks. That doesn't include what we destroyed during the crossing. Whatever is left is still retreating. I would tell Laurent that I'd need six hours to get a solid idea."
Slowing wasn't too appealing to him. Taking time meant giving it to the Estovakians. His combat strength was still not what he wanted. He didn't know how well he could rely on the other pockets of resistance on the mainland. Or how fast they might raise more units here. Arm them and organize them; resources were limited. Factories for producing arms like planes and tanks were few. There was another understrength corps sitting in political limbo in Nordennavic. He at least had time; they wouldn't try to make a go at the mainland until after New Year's.
The breakthrough here had its price, too. The three brigades assigned to cross were now fully committed, and two more were ready to move across further to the west. Behind were a smattering of reserve units and support formations. As well as a regiment of paratroops and the remaining Troops de Marins. This kind of fight dictated the need for mechanized troops, though. He'd already made up his mind that the paras would go through the mountains. They would also be the main force for Bartolomeo. The place wasn't a Fortress in the same sense as, say, Ragno. It had that name more from its position in the mountains. Mechanized forces could only attack from a few predictable directions.
"What should we do then, sir?" Emand asked.
LaPointe nodded in acknowledgement and looked at his reserves. He glanced back at Dumond and the ocean.
"Do you have any suggestions, Emand? Emperor 3?" He asked..
"We have to maintain momentum, sir. That's all I can emphasize, and I understand if you'd object." Laurent spoke up.
"The enemy is in retreat. Allowing them to catch their breath will very quickly work against us. If you plan to keep moving…I would say that would be our best strategy. I've noticed the Stovies are not particularly good at defending." Emand concurred.
LaPointe didn't need much more than that.
"Then we're going to maintain pressure on the Estovakians. I want to deny them any chance of reorganizing and launching a counterattack. The main drive will head north, while we leave Dumond to reserve units. We'll encircle Bartolomeo until the other strong points have been dealt with. Have our main force advance to a line here and stop so their supply trains can catch up."
He turned to his Air Force liaison.
"Colonel, send the following to your colleagues: main Army force is continuing its advance. Intend to lay siege to Dumond and Bartolomeo."
"Oui, General."
"And send the regiments their marching orders."...
"Gunner has targets! BOVs, left quadrant." Bazin reported coolly.
"Engage." Louis ordered.
The gunner brought the autocannon to bear as the two scout vehicles bolted from their hiding spots. The rest of the platoon joined in, and Louis ordered them to move left to cut off the scouts. The Estovakians deployed smoke and roared into a larger group of trees.
"Rhinos 2-3 and 2-4, flank around on the right, try and cut them off." Louis radioed as he looked at his battle management system.
"Rhino 1, be advised that Rhino 2 has made contact with enemy scouts and is in pursuit. Check fire to your east, how copy?"
"Copy, we'll maintain eyes in that direction, see if we can't help herd them." Zagre replied.
"Rhino 2, don't stray too far from your ordered axis of advance. They're BOVs." Charrier added.
"Copy 6."
Louis and Pingeot entered through the same tracks the scout cars had and slowed. The infantry in the back popped out to cover the flanks for the trip through. Louis caught glimpses of the two Stovie machines ahead, but nothing clear enough for Bazin to get a shot. Morel and his new wingman appeared again near the edge of the woods and opened fire on the fleeing vehicles. One of the BOVs finally took a few hits and lurched to a halt thanks to a snowbank. The second kept going, with its crew returning fire. As Louis and Morel exited the trees, they spotted 1st Platoon across the field. All of the sudden, tracers came sailing from a hedgerow several hundred meters away.
"Additional contact! Forward quadrant!" Morel called.
Bazin swung the turret in that direction and Louis connected to the thermals. He saw white shapes poking through the foliage and recognized the turrets of BRM Stalkers.
"All Rhino 2 victors, deploy smoke. At least one platoon of BRMs ahead." He ordered.
The two platoons of BRMs and their dismounts opened fire on the approaching Emmerians once more, this time with a few RPGs and anti-tank missiles. Dayot weaved the VBCI back and forth as Bazin followed the enemy's tracers and fired bursts in those directions.
"Rhino 2, speed up and split up. Flank around those hedges." Louis radioed.
"Rhino 2, Rhino 1 is going to flank on the left." Zagre advised.
"Copy, Rhino 1…Faster, Driver!" He barked.
Dayot accelerated and Pingeot's driver caught on a few seconds later. They quickly left the firing arc of the BRMs and crashed through a break in the hedges. Bazin swung the gun to the left and laid into the Estovakian positions. Pingeot went a little further, but his gunner's attention was drawn away by where the BOVs had gone. A low hill dotted with trees turned out to be another enemy position holding two more BOVs and their dismounts and a pair of Sprut tank destroyers. Morel called for smoke to be deployed as the Spruts opened fire. The two APCs moved apart, so they were "only" shaken and grazed by the 125mm shells. Bazin turned the 25mm towards them and opened fire.
"Charge the bastards! Rhino 2-2, follow me!" Louis barked.
"Rhino 2-1, don't move too far ahead!" Charrier interjected.
"Rhino 6, we are under fire from enemy tank destroyers. Requesting fire support!" Louis replied.
He started figuring out the coordinates as the two VBCIs bounded for the slope, ducking and weaving to avoid getting hit. A round exploded close enough to Pingeot's vehicle that it lost a wheel. Bazin got one of the Spurts and deployed smoke as Louis was made aware of the situation.
"Rhino 2-2, are you still able to maneuver? Move back! Rhino 6, we still need that fire support!" He asked.
"Rhino 2, I have two Gazelles armed with rockets. They're going to make a single pass before we drop mortar rounds. Pull back!" Charrier demanded.
"Rhino 1 is moving to assist, Rhino 2. Hold your position." Zagre spoke up.
Pingeot turned his vehicle around and got it moving as fast as it could go. Louis stayed behind him to give covering fire. Zagre and her platoon committed to the attack to draw away some heat. Charrier committed the entire company as he directed the mortars and helicopters. Pingeot's VBCI limped past the overrun BRMs and settled into place. Louis had his driver settle next to one of the destroyed BRMs while Bazin deployed fresh smoke. The helicopters entered the fight from the east and saturated the area with 68mm SNEBs. Zagre took the lead while the company's mortars joined in; Louis had his soldiers dismount to set up some hasty defensive positions. He stayed in his compartment; he imagined there were more than a few who were questioning his tactics.
"Rhino 2-2, what's your status?" He radioed.
"Left-front wheel has been hit and rendered inoperable. Minor penetration in the engine compartment and driver's compartment. Driver has a few cuts and scrapes, nothing more. Dismounting my squad to set up a perimeter."
"Copy, break, Rhino 6 Rhino 2-2 is out of action. No casualties; requesting a recovery vehicle."
"Understood Rhino 2-1, standby."
Louis moved his mic away from his face and swallowed a sigh. He looked at his battle management system as Zagre moved on the hill. 3rd Platoon flanked around to the south to form a defensive line. The crash from the rush had been particularly painful this time, and again he'd been the one who came out unscathed. He could only imagine the dressing down that Charrier had for him. Meron might say something if he still had enough gusto in him. For now, all he could do was pout and feel angry about that in turn. Without thinking, he put his hand to his face to check, then quickly drew it away. The universe continued to laugh at Louis Charland, and it made him furious.
"Lieutenant?"
Bazin's voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder and was greeted by the top of a bottle.
"Thought I would pass out some sports drinks. Sweating in the cold can be especially dangerous." He explained.
"...Thank you, Bazin." Louis grunted.
Louis found himself very thirsty all of a sudden. He unscrewed the cap while Bazin crawled back to get a bottle to Dayot. He was still the universe's plaything in his eyes, but he couldn't help but appreciate the man's gesture. For a few minutes, he was okay with living another day. Perhaps Otara was where he was destined to face judgement, he mused. It would be fitting, but he didn't care for the poetic element. Judgment would come…
Joan watched with satisfaction as her refueling probe made contact with the C-135EM's basket. A light between her fuel gauges blinked green and the numbers started to rise.
"Garuda 3 showing a good flow." She reported.
"Copy Garuda 3, hold position and speed."
Joan selected the autopilot and used the chance to go through her knee board again. She also looked at the ordinance hanging from her wings. The weather this high up was still clear and the newest waves of snow were still north of their target. All of it was also so she would stay focused. Today, the Rafale Bs were in their element: deep behind the lines, hitting strategic targets. Today would be command and control facilities up at Bartolomeo.
She was distracted by something Maeva had said while they were suiting up, though. She'd noted constantly wearing her oxygen mask showing on the younger pilot.
"Be careful, we don't want that cute face getting ruined."
It'd come with recommendations, but a cute face? Maeva had never said something like that to her before. Cute face? She had a cute face? Not to mention the smile Maeva had given. Joan could feel her face warming under the mask. She lifted her visor a touch, but almost missed the Stratotanker cutting off its fuel.
"Alright Garuda 3, you're topped off and ready to go." The boom operator declared.
"Copy, Garuda 3 pulling away." She replied as she cleared her throat.
She fell in with the lead pair while Marcus pulled up to receive his share of petrol. Again she went through the motions to keep her mind focused. When she glanced towards her left wing, she caught sight of her wingman pulling up. The two exchanged nods and looked towards Jarre and Descours.
"Garuda and Faucon have fueled and are turning back to Heading 059." Jarre declared.
"Copy, Mystique and Tigre are pushing feet dry at this time." Their lead escort replied quickly.
It was a relatively quiet approach to the coast. There were several large gaps in its defenses; nothing in the way of ships. There were still plenty of jets, however.
"Ghosteye has bandits at multiple headings and altitudes. We're seeing about a dozen…nearest group is at Heading 015, Altitude 7500, 110 Kilometers and closing. Looks like six Fishcans in full afterburner." AWACS warned.
"Copy, Garuda and Faucon push to target. Stay low and fast." Tigre 1 radioed.
Joan selected her MICAs nonetheless and nosed upwards with the rest of the flight. They arced up and over into the nearest significant terrain while the escorts started taking shots at the Stovie jets. In the back, Erwan got to work checking on the SCALP-EG missiles hanging from their pylons.
"Owl, do me a favor and keep an eye out for any bandits that slip away from the CAPs." Joan asked as the flight approached a stretch of flat, forested land.
"No promises; missile on the centerline is being difficult." Erwan grunted.
"Will it launch?"
"Yeah, but it's not accepting the coordinates for its target. Can't tell if it's at fault or if it's the GPS."
"Do what you can and get looking for any bandits. Garuda 1 this is 3, we've got a problem with one of our SCALPs. GPS isn't working."
"Copy that Garuda 3, proceed as briefed. Do you need to dump that shot?" Jarre asked.
"Backseater's working on it; we'll let you know."
Joan was at treetop level as she screamed from one part of the terrain to the other. She looked back when she was certain she had a second. She could see a few contrails, but not much else up in the skies. The RWR told her more were out and on the prowl. She glanced back once more as the mountains southwest of Bartolomeo were within reach.
"Garuda be advised, two of those Fishcans have split from the main group. Additional bandits are holding station east and west of your targets. Two pairs, one at 008 and one at 053. Altitude is 8000." Ghosteye reported.
"Copy Ghosteye. Garuda 4, do you see anything?" Jarre asked.
"Two bandits above the woods, well to the east. Can't say for sure if they see us." Marcus replied.
Joan felt her entire body tense up as her wingman dashed over the treetops. She glanced up every few seconds as the mountains around her spread out a little more.
"Shamrock?" She asked anxiously.
"Almost across. Fishcans are turning our way. Don't know if they see us." Marcus replied distractedly.
"Garuda 3, you're cleared to break and engage those two Fishcans if they spot Garuda 4. Ghosteye?" Jarre commanded.
"Bandits are banking in your direction."
"Garuda 2, go with Garuda 3. Garuda 3, you should hit a fork in the valley in about 45 seconds. Go right."
"Copy!"
Joan lit the burners and glanced over her shoulder. Marcus did the same to get into the mountains before the F-7s got too close. She slowed when the fork appeared around the corner and slipped in. The detour had her facing south, and Garuda 2 was just ahead. The F-7s were increasing speed and splitting up.
"Garuda 3 will take the wingman." Joan declared.
"Garuda 2 is on the lead." Descours agreed.
Joan went off the picture the AWACS was sending until the two were behind the F-7s. She nosed up and to the right before she activated the plane's radar. The Fishcans were almost directly above them. Her Magics might've been better, but she wanted to hold onto those for the trip back over the coast. She pulled back on the stick and worked the throttles until the two jets were in a desirable position. They split, but not fast enough.
"Garuda 3, Fox 3." She called.
The missile took up the chase while Joan rolled and dove for the terrain. She fell in behind her wingman and looked back one more time. The Stovie pilot never stood a chance.
"Garuda is now two minutes from launch point. Approaching the outer perimeter. Looks like they didn't get all the SAMs." Jarre radioed.
Joan noted that and glanced at her RWR. She turned off the radar and switched back to the SCALPs.
"How's that issue with guidance coming along, Owl?" She asked.
"I think I've got it mitigated…it'll take the coordinates for a short time, then I have to punch them back in. Maybe, if we feed them to it just before we launch it, the damn thing'll remember them."
"Worth a shot. We're one minute from launch point."
"Copy, Faucon is 30 seconds from launch." Pollini advised.
"Proceed as briefed, Faucon 1. Don't hang around any longer than you need to!" Jarre replied.
Erwan waited a handful of seconds before he started inputting the coordinates again. Joan tightened her grip on the controls as Jarre announced the thirty-second mark. The four jets leapt from the mountains and spread out. They assumed a wall formation and leveled out high above the mountains. Every remaining radar in the area picked them up for at least a second. Erwan said a quick prayer as he loaded the GPS coordinates into their centerline-mounted missile.
"Garuda 1, Rifle Rifle Rifle!"
"Garuda 2, Rifle Rifle Rifle!"
"Garuda 3, Rifle Rifle Rifle!"
"Garuda 4, Rifle Rifle Rifle!"
The Rafales split apart in pairs and rushed back towards the relative safety of low altitude. Faucon had them covered from below. The SCALP Erwan had been worried about went on its way for less than a minute before it descended to follow the terrain. It descended and descended and plowed into one of the mountain sides. The other two worked as advertised and began their approach towards the Bartolomeo Fortress. Joan was happy to get her "cute face" back to safety. There was still a long way to go until Gracemeria.
A/N: Thank you for reading.