We need Moon-Pie back, the Serious Six plowing down Broadway doesn't have the same ring as the Magnificent Seven. Hizzoner had some serious strength blocking the road. Twenty men behind impromptu barricades and two squads of mech infantry in tin box M113s. They're all dead or run.
Root's down, his body looks half-flayed, but the little buggers in his bloodstream have already stopped the leaking. Doc's running on adrenalin and morphine. Only Leo doesn't bear any marks. Tac-nets full of voices. Sounds like a platoon or so of the mayor's men are swinging down 218th Street to cut off our retreat. 1st and 3rd squads are moving down with the Hummer and trucks to chew them over.
We stash Root's unconscious body away in a maintenance closet and push on.
------------------------------------------------
Jones
He stares in disbelief at the twin columns of smoke rising on Broadway. Sgt Devlon, the track commander, ratchets the slide on his Mk-19. "Those are catastrophic kills, Major." His voice growls, "My men are dead."
Jones shakes the fugue away. He works the track's radio, contacting the blocking forces on Seaman and Park Terrace. "Move up to 218 and swing towards Broadway. We'll box them between you and the positions in Isham." He cranes around to the Sgt standing on the M577s roof. "Pound them hard."
"Our FO is good. He'll call, I'll kill."
Survivors of the fighting up Broadway trickle into the park. Their panicked flight takes them right into and through Jones' infantry reserve. Whatever they say, it catches, and the mass of men begin to stream away south. The blocking force on 50th, another 10 men, notice the retreat and, one by one, pull a fade to the west.
Jones climbs from the track, screaming and waving his pistol, but the men won't be stopped. As he points it at their fleeing backs, Sgt Devlon intervenes. "Major, deal with them later! Carl reports contact in Broadway."
Grenade explosions and small arms fire sound from the corner of Isham. Jones sprints back to the track. "I'll kill them all!"
"MILGOV's in line first." Sgt Devlon keys his mike, "Talk to me Carl."
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Note: Mike volunteered to write this raw POV from Leonid. Thank him for me! More later this in you already read it.
Leonid
I expect heavy fighting for this engagement, not much of a stealth mission this time, I grab my MAG machine gun. We advance up Broadway, I instruct on bounding overwatch, the Major and I take turns covering the team's advance with our machine guns. She is a solid commander and a quick study, but I could fill volumes with what she doesn't know about combat.
We near the park, they have made a little bunker with stacked cars. Hose it with fire keep their heads down, Alpha hits them with a couple grenades. I advance to mop up. Shit! Claymores, I back off a bit, command detonated no tripwires so we must have got them all. A single grenade impacts near the bunker. Moments later, thump thump thump in the distance, that sounds like... "GET DOWN!" they have an automatic grenade launcher. Rounds impact around the team. I yell move to cover get out of the kill zone! I head in the direction of the fire. A couple more bursts of fire as I make it to the corner. I take a quick peek and down about 100m is an APC of some sort with a pintle mounted Mark 19 automatic grenade launcher. I prep a LAW rocket. These things are light and handy but pack nowhere near the range or punch of an RPG. I check one more time then pop around the corner for a quick shot. I see instantly that I hit a track. The APC spins about like a waterbug. The driver abandons it. It is too close to the wall for anymore indirect fire. Mission kill.
I look around, Doc had moved this way when the shelling started, I motion her to me. Come on let's see if we can circle around and finish that thing off. We sprint across the street and luckily for us the gunner on the APC had either abandoned it or didn't see us. There are people in the buildings. This is much bigger than we thought. This is an all out frontal assault.
We are alongside the church, there are bad guys around the corner, we trade shots. Someone throws a grenade. It lands close enough to be deafening. I catch a couple fragments in the vest, Doc is not so lucky. She says she can get through a window in the front, I cover for her. I see a man round the corner with a pistol in hand, and before I can react he fires. FUCK I'm hit, punched through my vest. What the hell is that? I feel blood inside my vest, it feels like it broke a rib or two. Arms numb, my weapon feels like it weighs 200 kilos. I can't bring it up. He fires again the world spins around me. The sharp crack of an M-16 from above my head snaps me out of it. Doc is in the window. She hits him square but it seems to have little effect beyond taking his attention off me. Rounds whiz by me from behind and I hear the familiar staccato bark of an M-60. I use this opportunity to get my ass around the corner. The window! I heave myself through it. Shout for Doc, don't want to get myself shot by her trigger happy ass now. No answer. I move into the room where she was and she's down, bleeding bad. I struggle to remain conscious and drag her to cover. They'll be looking for us soon. I find a large closet get us inside and close the door. Pull out a first aid kit and stop her bleeding. She's lost a lot of blood.
Shouts from outside, they are looking for us. I recognize that voice, now I know why that fuck with the pistol looked familiar. Jones. He is using his mind tricks, he tells them where we are hiding. He wants us alive if possible. That's not going to happen. I have got to take the edge off this pain clear my head. Let's see what the good doctor has in her bag of tricks. The pain is so distracting that I'm having trouble reading this damn Roman alphabet. I think one of these is morphine, shit I just jab both into my leg and wait.
I feel the morphine wash over me, I can think now. I'm sorry Doc, but being his prisoner would be bad, very bad. And ten times worse for you being a woman. I have seen how women POWs are treated. Maybe I can bluff our way out but if not, this will finish us for sure. I hope you can forgive me. I get out a couple grenades, pull the pins on both and hold the spoons down, and wait.
Someone is moving outside the door. He calls me by name. Tells me to open the door and come out. I tell him I can't my hands are full, you open the door. He does, slowly. He's young, practically a kid. I tell him go on shoot me bitch and we will all die. I'm not sure if he even heard me, he was fixated on the grenades in my hands. Finally he calls out grenade and closed the door. I think they are going to wait for me to get tired and drop them. Or from the way I probably look, wait for me to bleed out.
We now have a chance to get out. I carefully put the pin back in one grenade and secure it. This is a good heavy wooden door. No sheep's wool or children's tears here. I let the spoon go, open the door a crack and toss the grenade out. It cooked long enough that it may have gone off in the air. The blast rattles the hinges on the door. I open it, two men down. Good. I throw Doc over my shoulder and head for the window. I drop her through and follow. They must have manned that grenade launcher again, a burst of grenades goes right over my head, impacting harmlessly somewhere down the block. I see Kat and Eddie down the street, they are trying to get to us. Eddie starts my way before I can wave him off and a single shot rings out and his helmet goes flying. Eddie is down. Kat directs fire where she thinks the shot came from while I move as best as I can while carrying the doctor. We make it to cover.
I tell Kat, we need to pull back, there are at least fifty more back there. And Jones is there leading.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Paterson
Ed's body jerks one more time as the thrown smoke pops. Damned sniper's making sure of his kill. I make my way to him and haul is limp form, fireman's carry, onto my back. I can feel the shrapnel shifting inside me through the morphine. I'm dead if it works it's way into an artery. Or maybe not.
The sound of heavy combat echoes from the north. My men are vets. They'll be chewing up these half-trained bully boys of Hizzoner's. We need to extract ourselves.
Leo's hauling Doc. I've got Ed. Alphabit takes point. I think he's the only one of us not running on opiates. We're a block away when we hear the trucks and another track.
I order us off the road into the shattered frontage of an office building. "Leo, is that the track from the park?"
"Nyet, LAW took the track and forward wheel. It's not moving."
"Great, they got fucking more. Alpha, shift Doc and Ed to the back of this building. Leo, up top, we're going to improvise."
I've had the joy of emplacing my share of mines. Wish I had a few of the big bastards now. We've got four of the M72 LAWs between us. We'll ambush from the roof, four painful floors up, where's my elevator.
From the roof we can hear two sources of diesel engines coughing their way north. Sounds as if they split their convoy into two lines of approach. One's way west, probably on Seaman or Indian road, the others pushing up Broadway accompanied by the squeal of tracks.
I feel like long hours pass, but it can't be more than minutes, before the first truck lurch into view. Another follows no more than 30 feet behind. Then a tank, a fucking tank, big gun, turret, and everything. "Leo, I don't want it anymore." We prep our tubes and set them beside us. "We'll fire when the tank is right below. It's your target. I'll take the lead truck. Then I'll get the second. Your call with the last LAW. Hit the tank again if it needs it or get the truck behind."
"And then?"
"Frags down the line. Then we run."
He shares a grim pained grin.
The trucks, as expected, are packed with troops. Hizzoner must not have enough functioning transport to haul all the men for this op at once. I don't have any pity left in me as I stand and fire. The LAW spears down through the cab killing the driver and shattering the fuel tanks below him. Flaming fuel splashes everywhere. The men, now torches, flail wildly. The slap of concussion and as the tank's turret lifts away tells me Leo's down his duty. The second truck has swerved and stopped as I bring the second LAW on target. It strikes the bed of the cargo area, or maybe one of the men, turning the troop carriage into a shrapnel filled hell. A handful of survivors stagger out and eat the first grenade.
Leo and I lob the remaining frags down the street where the few trucks left have pulled over and begun deploying their squads. We don't stay to look for results. Down the stairs, shoulder our wounded and out the back. It'll take them time to reorganize their survivors and even more to get the courage to advance. We take advantage of it.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Hizzoner's men are packing more than small arms. On the corner of 218 and Broadway one of our 3/4 ton trucks burns. The stench of burning flesh is strong again.
There's four men down in the triage with Sgt Ross and Jana working at a fever pitch. "Doc's out," I tell him before he can ask.
"Is she stable!"
"Yes!" He points to a corner, never taking his eyes from his work.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
George is coordinating from my HQ with Aron manning the 'switchboard'. He's got our map of the local area set up and markers placed all along our perimeter.
"Damn," I take in the situation at a glance, "they've got men all along Broadway and 218. Numbers?"
"Unknown, but lots. Prisoner we took says they had 12 trucks carrying ten men each, three M113s, and a tank."
"Scratch their armor. Two of the tin-cans and the tank are confirmed kills. Leo got a mobility kill on the last one. It's not moving without a wrecker. They made two trips with the trucks."
George winces doing the number in his head. "Reinforced company."
"We whittled them down a bit." And I let him know just how many.
We near the park, they have made a little bunker with stacked cars. Hose it with fire keep their heads down, Alpha hits them with a couple grenades. I advance to mop up. Shit! Claymores, I back off a bit, command detonated no tripwires so we must have got them all. A single grenade impacts near the bunker. Moments later, thump thump thump in the distance, that sounds like... "GET DOWN!" they have an automatic grenade launcher. Rounds impact around the team. I yell move to cover get out of the kill zone! I head in the direction of the fire. A couple more bursts of fire as I make it to the corner. I take a quick peek and down about 100m is an APC of some sort with a pintle mounted Mark 19 automatic grenade launcher. I prep a LAW rocket. These things are light and handy but pack nowhere near the range or punch of an RPG. I check one more time then pop around the corner for a quick shot. I see instantly that I hit a track. The APC spins about like a waterbug. The driver abandons it. It is too close to the wall for anymore indirect fire. Mission kill.
I look around, Doc had moved this way when the shelling started, I motion her to me. Come on let's see if we can circle around and finish that thing off. We sprint across the street and luckily for us the gunner on the APC had either abandoned it or didn't see us. There are people in the buildings. This is much bigger than we thought. This is an all out frontal assault.
We are alongside the church, there are bad guys around the corner, we trade shots. Someone throws a grenade. It lands close enough to be deafening. I catch a couple fragments in the vest, Doc is not so lucky. She says she can get through a window in the front, I cover for her. I see a man round the corner with a pistol in hand, and before I can react he fires. FUCK I'm hit, punched through my vest. What the hell is that? I feel blood inside my vest, it feels like it broke a rib or two. Arms numb, my weapon feels like it weighs 200 kilos. I can't bring it up. He fires again the world spins around me. The sharp crack of an M-16 from above my head snaps me out of it. Doc is in the window. She hits him square but it seems to have little effect beyond taking his attention off me. Rounds whiz by me from behind and I hear the familiar staccato bark of an M-60. I use this opportunity to get my ass around the corner. The window! I heave myself through it. Shout for Doc, don't want to get myself shot by her trigger happy ass now. No answer. I move into the room where she was and she's down, bleeding bad. I struggle to remain conscious and drag her to cover. They'll be looking for us soon. I find a large closet get us inside and close the door. Pull out a first aid kit and stop her bleeding. She's lost a lot of blood.
Shouts from outside, they are looking for us. I recognize that voice, now I know why that fuck with the pistol looked familiar. Jones. He is using his mind tricks, he tells them where we are hiding. He wants us alive if possible. That's not going to happen. I have got to take the edge off this pain clear my head. Let's see what the good doctor has in her bag of tricks. The pain is so distracting that I'm having trouble reading this damn Roman alphabet. I think one of these is morphine, shit I just jab both into my leg and wait.
I feel the morphine wash over me, I can think now. I'm sorry Doc, but being his prisoner would be bad, very bad. And ten times worse for you being a woman. I have seen how women POWs are treated. Maybe I can bluff our way out but if not, this will finish us for sure. I hope you can forgive me. I get out a couple grenades, pull the pins on both and hold the spoons down, and wait.
Someone is moving outside the door. He calls me by name. Tells me to open the door and come out. I tell him I can't my hands are full, you open the door. He does, slowly. He's young, practically a kid. I tell him go on shoot me bitch and we will all die. I'm not sure if he even heard me, he was fixated on the grenades in my hands. Finally he calls out grenade and closed the door. I think they are going to wait for me to get tired and drop them. Or from the way I probably look, wait for me to bleed out.
We now have a chance to get out. I carefully put the pin back in one grenade and secure it. This is a good heavy wooden door. No sheep's wool or children's tears here. I let the spoon go, open the door a crack and toss the grenade out. It cooked long enough that it may have gone off in the air. The blast rattles the hinges on the door. I open it, two men down. Good. I throw Doc over my shoulder and head for the window. I drop her through and follow. They must have manned that grenade launcher again, a burst of grenades goes right over my head, impacting harmlessly somewhere down the block. I see Kat and Eddie down the street, they are trying to get to us. Eddie starts my way before I can wave him off and a single shot rings out and his helmet goes flying. Eddie is down. Kat directs fire where she thinks the shot came from while I move as best as I can while carrying the doctor. We make it to cover.
I tell Kat, we need to pull back, there are at least fifty more back there. And Jones is there leading.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Paterson
Ed's body jerks one more time as the thrown smoke pops. Damned sniper's making sure of his kill. I make my way to him and haul is limp form, fireman's carry, onto my back. I can feel the shrapnel shifting inside me through the morphine. I'm dead if it works it's way into an artery. Or maybe not.
The sound of heavy combat echoes from the north. My men are vets. They'll be chewing up these half-trained bully boys of Hizzoner's. We need to extract ourselves.
Leo's hauling Doc. I've got Ed. Alphabit takes point. I think he's the only one of us not running on opiates. We're a block away when we hear the trucks and another track.
I order us off the road into the shattered frontage of an office building. "Leo, is that the track from the park?"
"Nyet, LAW took the track and forward wheel. It's not moving."
"Great, they got fucking more. Alpha, shift Doc and Ed to the back of this building. Leo, up top, we're going to improvise."
I've had the joy of emplacing my share of mines. Wish I had a few of the big bastards now. We've got four of the M72 LAWs between us. We'll ambush from the roof, four painful floors up, where's my elevator.
From the roof we can hear two sources of diesel engines coughing their way north. Sounds as if they split their convoy into two lines of approach. One's way west, probably on Seaman or Indian road, the others pushing up Broadway accompanied by the squeal of tracks.
I feel like long hours pass, but it can't be more than minutes, before the first truck lurch into view. Another follows no more than 30 feet behind. Then a tank, a fucking tank, big gun, turret, and everything. "Leo, I don't want it anymore." We prep our tubes and set them beside us. "We'll fire when the tank is right below. It's your target. I'll take the lead truck. Then I'll get the second. Your call with the last LAW. Hit the tank again if it needs it or get the truck behind."
"And then?"
"Frags down the line. Then we run."
He shares a grim pained grin.
The trucks, as expected, are packed with troops. Hizzoner must not have enough functioning transport to haul all the men for this op at once. I don't have any pity left in me as I stand and fire. The LAW spears down through the cab killing the driver and shattering the fuel tanks below him. Flaming fuel splashes everywhere. The men, now torches, flail wildly. The slap of concussion and as the tank's turret lifts away tells me Leo's down his duty. The second truck has swerved and stopped as I bring the second LAW on target. It strikes the bed of the cargo area, or maybe one of the men, turning the troop carriage into a shrapnel filled hell. A handful of survivors stagger out and eat the first grenade.
Leo and I lob the remaining frags down the street where the few trucks left have pulled over and begun deploying their squads. We don't stay to look for results. Down the stairs, shoulder our wounded and out the back. It'll take them time to reorganize their survivors and even more to get the courage to advance. We take advantage of it.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Hizzoner's men are packing more than small arms. On the corner of 218 and Broadway one of our 3/4 ton trucks burns. The stench of burning flesh is strong again.
There's four men down in the triage with Sgt Ross and Jana working at a fever pitch. "Doc's out," I tell him before he can ask.
"Is she stable!"
"Yes!" He points to a corner, never taking his eyes from his work.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
George is coordinating from my HQ with Aron manning the 'switchboard'. He's got our map of the local area set up and markers placed all along our perimeter.
"Damn," I take in the situation at a glance, "they've got men all along Broadway and 218. Numbers?"
"Unknown, but lots. Prisoner we took says they had 12 trucks carrying ten men each, three M113s, and a tank."
"Scratch their armor. Two of the tin-cans and the tank are confirmed kills. Leo got a mobility kill on the last one. It's not moving without a wrecker. They made two trips with the trucks."
George winces doing the number in his head. "Reinforced company."
"We whittled them down a bit." And I let him know just how many.
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