G: "Was aber ist deine Pflicht? Die Forderung des Tages."
E: "But what is your duty? What the day demands."
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Spruche in Prosa (III, 151)
From the Author: I wanted to apologize for the long wait. I first posted the preview in early February and I didn't finish it until late March. I am sorry. It's been a hectic couple of months. I really do hope this story is worth the wait. BTW I changed the name from "Das Luftwaffe" to "Flucht Nach Vorn" it has a better ring to it and means "flight to the front"; its an old WW2 term meaning trying to assault rather than wait or retreat while under threat. Good shit and more badass. 05022011
SC: Flucht Nach Vorn
Operation Scorch Garden, Yangtze River, People’s Republic of China, Earth [Sol] 02022077
“Frank, you can do this.” The Captain said to himself, trying to alleviate his fears.
The mixture of his own sweat and his co-pilot’s blood temporarily blinded him. He wiped it out of his eyes and removed his bloodied facemask to try and breathe easier. It worked long enough for him to bank his aircraft towards the ground. The planes engines and fuselage moaned as he pushed his aircraft to its limits and beyond. Every alarm in the cockpit wailed at him as he put his plane on a collision course with his target. His hands vibrated violently as the shakers on his yoke set off, trying in vain to remind him to pull up. He had made his decision, his final decision. The cockpits computer soon screamed at him in a dull mechanical voice “TERRAIN! TERRAIN! PULL UP! PULL UP!” He ignored it and was determined to complete his mission.
The planes left wing was hit by anti-air fire as he set it on a nosedive straight into the heart of the massive hydroelectric dam below. Its left wing broke off along the middle where the engine and propellers sat. The splintered pieces of metal broke off in a flaming chunk that still had a spinning propeller attached. The bits of plane cut into a streaking ultramodern Chinese fighter that happened to be flying close by. The propellers blades sliced through the canopy unleashing a cloud of blood into the air. A fraction of a second later the Chinese aircraft exploded into two fireballs that fell harmlessly back to the Earth. The Captain of the crippled plane smiled to himself at his unexpected kill, but soon snapped back into reality when his aircraft lurched to its right and spun out of control as it descended without half of a wing. He pushed the yoke down with all of his might and tried desperately to stay on course with his target. The large gray concrete wall that was his target rapidly grew larger and larger as he spun towards the ground. As he plunged downward a barrage of anti-air flak streaked up across the sky towards his aircraft. The first barrage missed, but with each successive barrage the flak would come closer. First the tail was shot off, and then the cockpit itself lit up like a fireworks extravaganza. The Captain felt his body rip to shreds from the shrapnel. His hands still shook with the shaking yoke which he now loosely gripped from loss of blood. He cried out for his mother and closed his heavy eyes. He slipped in and out of consciousness as the computer screamed “EIGHTY! TERRAIN! THIRTY! PULL UP! TEN!” The world went completely black as he died still strapped into his seat.
FLT 2901 DUS-WAW, Over Poland, European Union, Earth [Sol] 08072062
“Ladies and gentlemen we have begun our initial descent into the Warsaw area. We should be on the ground within the next twenty minutes. The local weather is clear skies, fifty two degrees with strong gusts from the northeast. We expect some moderate turbulence on the way down. Flight attendants please prepare the cabin for arrival.” The Lufthansa FO switched off the PA and flipped the seat belt sign on. He gave Captain Eichel, who was piloting the Airbus A330-300, a slight nod and switched frequencies to contact air traffic control. He spoke into his headset, but received no reply. He checked and rechecked the frequency, nothing but static came through. After five long minutes he finally turned to his Captain and spoke to him; breaking sterile cockpit. “Lukas, I can’t hail ATC.”
“Frank did you check if you had the right frequency?” The Captain said without lifting his view from the instruments in front of the cockpit control panel.
“Yes I did, at least four times.”
“Did you check the COMM?”
“It works just fine.”
“Put us on frequency 121.5, were going to land this bird with or without ATC.”
“Aircraft Emergency Frequency… Check.” The FO obeyed the Captains order and spoke up again soon after. “Well can’t we just see if anyone else in the area is having the same problem? The COMM clearly works and ATC is only transmitting bursts of static. Aren’t you the least bit curious if anything is happening on the ground?”
“That’s not procedure.”
“Lukas ATC is always there, could be nothing, but I’d rather know.”
“Alright, might as well send a message to dispatch on the computer also. They might be able to give us some info too.”
“Done. Message away Captain.” The FO turned from the Captain and sent out a transmission to the surrounding airspace. “Lufthansa 2901 to any aircraft within range. Anyone know what’s the new frequency for ATC? I repeat we need the new frequency for ATC. We lost communication with the ground.” The FO repeated the message for five long minutes until he finally received a reply.
“Scandinavian Airlines 5619. We’re having the same issue. Over.” A man with a Swedish accent told him over his headset.
“SAS 5619, we copy. Where are you?” The FO asked in return.
“About twenty miles ahead of your position inbound to Warsaw Chopin International. Can you see us? Over.”
The FO scanned the skies ahead of them and spotted the hulking white and blue SAS A380 far in the distance. “Copy that, we can see you. Are you in visual range of the airport?”
“Lufthansa 2901 we are not, but we are seeing a lot of smoke coming from the city. Can you see it?”
“SAS 5619 that is a negetive. No smoke in view. Over.” The FO turned to his Captain who was listening in to their conversation and he shook his head. Confirming he saw nothing either.
“Lufthansa 2901 were seeing something. The smoke seems to be clearing. It looks like the airport is on fire. Everything is on fire. What the…? Förbanna det!” The transmission suddenly cut off and the midsection of the SAS A380 exploded in a huge fireball that broke the super jumbo jet in two. The tail and forward sections floated towards the ground like two grotesque flares that suddenly disappeared before it hit the ground.
“Gottverdammt!!! SAS 5619! SAS 5619!” The FO tried to call the doomed bird, more to calm him then anything. The sky around them suddenly turned black with smoke and the sprawling city below was now engulfed in fire. Numerous bursts of flame shot out from the city and reached high into the air. The A330’s radar now picked up numerous small unidentified flying objects that zoomed around in such high speeds that they immediately concluded that they were certainly not commercial liners.
“WAR.” The computer flashed an alarm as dispatch replied back to them with just one word. Both pilots turned to face one another completely white from fear. Neither said or did anything until the computer flashed again. “DIVERT NOW. FRA.”
Captain Eichel pushed the control stick forward and right and the lumbering A330-300 changed course towards Frankfurt. Both pilots silently prayed that whatever was buzzing around would leave them alone, but those prayers went unanswered because one of the U.F.O.'s changed course and went directly towards them. Its sleek brown silhouette quickly closed the gap between the two aircraft and it flew in a holding pattern just to the right of the cockpit. The two Lufthansa pilots stared at the fighter jet with a mix of awe and terror; none had ever seen an aircraft of war so close before. The plane was long, narrow and had an oddly shaped tail that looked like a wasps stinger. It was equipped with internal scram jet engines that gave it unbelievable speed and maneuverability. The triple red stars and hammer roundel of the Communist Federated Republics was clearly visible on its side. Its black canopy became transparent and the pilot of the CFR fighter waved at them as if they were long lost friends. The two Lufthansa pilots waved back in disbelief.
Military sounding music filled the Lufthansa pilots headsets. Frank recognized it as the national anthem of the ancient Soviet Union, after a few verses a voice told them in Russian “Izvinite, no vy vse dolzhny umeretʹ syeĭchas.”
“What did he say?” Captain Eichel said visibly shaken.
“He said... 'Sorry, but you must all die now,'” Frank told his Captain. Frank felt himself pissing himself, but he was so scared that he barely notice or even cared. The CFR fighter peeled off and flew behind the A330-300. The CFR fighter shot off a quick salvo from its nose mounted MAG gun that cleanly shattered engine two of the A330-300. The CFR fighter then spun around the wounded commercial jet and shot off engine three from its front. “He's fucking with us!”
The A330-300 began to descend towards the ground, both pilots instinctively began to cut off circuit breakers and activate the engine helion fire extinguishers as if it was another training sim. With the fires under control both pilots pushed hard on their control sticks to prevent a full stall and try to regain speed. The CFR fighter reappeared in front of the commercial jet and shot just above the cockpit; toying with them. As the fighter lined itself up to shot the cockpit it jerked up violently, but it was too late. A missile home in on it and destroyed it in a brilliant flash of light. As soon as the Lufthansa regained their vision they roared happily as four Eurostar fighter jets streaked past them towards the enemy.
“Engine one just failed. We have to land.” Frank screamed bringing them both back to their dire situation. “Were losing attitude. Cutting off engine one.”
“We can't land at an airport, they're most likely all destroyed. We can't ditch at sea, none nearby. Our only real option is to land on the highway.” Captain Eichel said thinking out loud.
“There!” Frank pointed towards a wide strip of road just ahead of them. The A330-300 landing gear lowered and its speed drastically fell as the Captain glided the jet over the highway, all the while trying hard to keep the wounded bird level against the strong crosswinds. The cars below became larger and larger an began to anticipate the planes landing and swerved to the side of the highway. The A330-300 still landed much to fast and its wheels exploded causing the plane to thrash and whip around violently. Fires erupted from the landing gears which now crumpled up against itself and the fuselage screeched against the black pavement. Most cars drove around the sliding A330-300, but a few drove right into it. The cars smashed against the wings and fuselage causing heavy damage to the plane and adding to the devastation. The A330-300 finally came to a stop and both pilots looked at each other thinking the same thing, “How are we alive?” Captain Eichel rose to his feet, but collapsed on the floor; coughing up blood. Frank stood up and tried to help Lukas up.
“Get the hell out of here!” Lukas screamed as he gagged on his own blood.
Frank hesitated and then opened the cockpit escape hatch. He tossed the escape rope over and climbed out. The smoke from the fires below choked him and when it cleared he could see that the A330-300 had created a large flaming scar through the highway. Mangled cars, bits of burning metal and distorted bodies lay all around. Frank managed to safely climb down to the ground and he went to assist with the evacuation in progress. The emergency slides were deployed and the survivors rushed out of the burning A330-300. Fire began to creep from under the aircraft to inside the cabin; which was now filling up with smoke. Frank could hear the flight attendants inside barking evacuation orders and battling the blaze with their helion fire extinguishers in a vain attempt to control the fires raging inside the plane.
“Hurry! Run! Get Out! Get to the bottom! Help people off! Get them away from the aircraft!” The petite black haired flight attendant on top of the flight slide screamed as she directed the passengers off. Her blue uniform was bloodied from a gaping wound on her shoulder.
Frank was at the bottom of the slide and pointed the survivors towards a clearing of grass just fifty meters away. Frank helped those too hurt to get to the clearing. Many had broken limbs or blistering burns. On his fifth run back to the slide he lifted a wounded flight attendant who was still wearing a PBE. Her arms, legs and hands were badly burned as she attempted to fight the fire inside the aircraft. She still clutched an empty fire extinguisher in her hands as she was pulled from the fire by another flight attendant who was still inside. Frank carried her across the highway and laid her down on the grass. She screamed as the moist grass touched her blistered skin.
Frank removed her PBE and she pointed towards the crashed A330, “Edward is still in there. He saved me! Get him out! GET HIM OUT!” Frank nodded and ran back towards the plane. Midway there the planes jet fuel ignited; tossing him back with the explosion. His ears rung and he wobbled up to his feet. The intense heat emitted from the fire forced him to back up towards the grassy clearing. The air around him was full of burning clothes that drifted down like a grim rain of confetti. Frank felt a hand clutch his leg and he looked down to see the burnt flight attendant he carried away from the plane screech in horror as a piece of another flight attendants uniform drifted down to the ground. Frank couldn't help but cry as his plane and crew burned.
E: "But what is your duty? What the day demands."
- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Spruche in Prosa (III, 151)
From the Author: I wanted to apologize for the long wait. I first posted the preview in early February and I didn't finish it until late March. I am sorry. It's been a hectic couple of months. I really do hope this story is worth the wait. BTW I changed the name from "Das Luftwaffe" to "Flucht Nach Vorn" it has a better ring to it and means "flight to the front"; its an old WW2 term meaning trying to assault rather than wait or retreat while under threat. Good shit and more badass. 05022011
SC: Flucht Nach Vorn
Operation Scorch Garden, Yangtze River, People’s Republic of China, Earth [Sol] 02022077
“Frank, you can do this.” The Captain said to himself, trying to alleviate his fears.
The mixture of his own sweat and his co-pilot’s blood temporarily blinded him. He wiped it out of his eyes and removed his bloodied facemask to try and breathe easier. It worked long enough for him to bank his aircraft towards the ground. The planes engines and fuselage moaned as he pushed his aircraft to its limits and beyond. Every alarm in the cockpit wailed at him as he put his plane on a collision course with his target. His hands vibrated violently as the shakers on his yoke set off, trying in vain to remind him to pull up. He had made his decision, his final decision. The cockpits computer soon screamed at him in a dull mechanical voice “TERRAIN! TERRAIN! PULL UP! PULL UP!” He ignored it and was determined to complete his mission.
The planes left wing was hit by anti-air fire as he set it on a nosedive straight into the heart of the massive hydroelectric dam below. Its left wing broke off along the middle where the engine and propellers sat. The splintered pieces of metal broke off in a flaming chunk that still had a spinning propeller attached. The bits of plane cut into a streaking ultramodern Chinese fighter that happened to be flying close by. The propellers blades sliced through the canopy unleashing a cloud of blood into the air. A fraction of a second later the Chinese aircraft exploded into two fireballs that fell harmlessly back to the Earth. The Captain of the crippled plane smiled to himself at his unexpected kill, but soon snapped back into reality when his aircraft lurched to its right and spun out of control as it descended without half of a wing. He pushed the yoke down with all of his might and tried desperately to stay on course with his target. The large gray concrete wall that was his target rapidly grew larger and larger as he spun towards the ground. As he plunged downward a barrage of anti-air flak streaked up across the sky towards his aircraft. The first barrage missed, but with each successive barrage the flak would come closer. First the tail was shot off, and then the cockpit itself lit up like a fireworks extravaganza. The Captain felt his body rip to shreds from the shrapnel. His hands still shook with the shaking yoke which he now loosely gripped from loss of blood. He cried out for his mother and closed his heavy eyes. He slipped in and out of consciousness as the computer screamed “EIGHTY! TERRAIN! THIRTY! PULL UP! TEN!” The world went completely black as he died still strapped into his seat.
FLT 2901 DUS-WAW, Over Poland, European Union, Earth [Sol] 08072062
“Ladies and gentlemen we have begun our initial descent into the Warsaw area. We should be on the ground within the next twenty minutes. The local weather is clear skies, fifty two degrees with strong gusts from the northeast. We expect some moderate turbulence on the way down. Flight attendants please prepare the cabin for arrival.” The Lufthansa FO switched off the PA and flipped the seat belt sign on. He gave Captain Eichel, who was piloting the Airbus A330-300, a slight nod and switched frequencies to contact air traffic control. He spoke into his headset, but received no reply. He checked and rechecked the frequency, nothing but static came through. After five long minutes he finally turned to his Captain and spoke to him; breaking sterile cockpit. “Lukas, I can’t hail ATC.”
“Frank did you check if you had the right frequency?” The Captain said without lifting his view from the instruments in front of the cockpit control panel.
“Yes I did, at least four times.”
“Did you check the COMM?”
“It works just fine.”
“Put us on frequency 121.5, were going to land this bird with or without ATC.”
“Aircraft Emergency Frequency… Check.” The FO obeyed the Captains order and spoke up again soon after. “Well can’t we just see if anyone else in the area is having the same problem? The COMM clearly works and ATC is only transmitting bursts of static. Aren’t you the least bit curious if anything is happening on the ground?”
“That’s not procedure.”
“Lukas ATC is always there, could be nothing, but I’d rather know.”
“Alright, might as well send a message to dispatch on the computer also. They might be able to give us some info too.”
“Done. Message away Captain.” The FO turned from the Captain and sent out a transmission to the surrounding airspace. “Lufthansa 2901 to any aircraft within range. Anyone know what’s the new frequency for ATC? I repeat we need the new frequency for ATC. We lost communication with the ground.” The FO repeated the message for five long minutes until he finally received a reply.
“Scandinavian Airlines 5619. We’re having the same issue. Over.” A man with a Swedish accent told him over his headset.
“SAS 5619, we copy. Where are you?” The FO asked in return.
“About twenty miles ahead of your position inbound to Warsaw Chopin International. Can you see us? Over.”
The FO scanned the skies ahead of them and spotted the hulking white and blue SAS A380 far in the distance. “Copy that, we can see you. Are you in visual range of the airport?”
“Lufthansa 2901 we are not, but we are seeing a lot of smoke coming from the city. Can you see it?”
“SAS 5619 that is a negetive. No smoke in view. Over.” The FO turned to his Captain who was listening in to their conversation and he shook his head. Confirming he saw nothing either.
“Lufthansa 2901 were seeing something. The smoke seems to be clearing. It looks like the airport is on fire. Everything is on fire. What the…? Förbanna det!” The transmission suddenly cut off and the midsection of the SAS A380 exploded in a huge fireball that broke the super jumbo jet in two. The tail and forward sections floated towards the ground like two grotesque flares that suddenly disappeared before it hit the ground.
“Gottverdammt!!! SAS 5619! SAS 5619!” The FO tried to call the doomed bird, more to calm him then anything. The sky around them suddenly turned black with smoke and the sprawling city below was now engulfed in fire. Numerous bursts of flame shot out from the city and reached high into the air. The A330’s radar now picked up numerous small unidentified flying objects that zoomed around in such high speeds that they immediately concluded that they were certainly not commercial liners.
“WAR.” The computer flashed an alarm as dispatch replied back to them with just one word. Both pilots turned to face one another completely white from fear. Neither said or did anything until the computer flashed again. “DIVERT NOW. FRA.”
Captain Eichel pushed the control stick forward and right and the lumbering A330-300 changed course towards Frankfurt. Both pilots silently prayed that whatever was buzzing around would leave them alone, but those prayers went unanswered because one of the U.F.O.'s changed course and went directly towards them. Its sleek brown silhouette quickly closed the gap between the two aircraft and it flew in a holding pattern just to the right of the cockpit. The two Lufthansa pilots stared at the fighter jet with a mix of awe and terror; none had ever seen an aircraft of war so close before. The plane was long, narrow and had an oddly shaped tail that looked like a wasps stinger. It was equipped with internal scram jet engines that gave it unbelievable speed and maneuverability. The triple red stars and hammer roundel of the Communist Federated Republics was clearly visible on its side. Its black canopy became transparent and the pilot of the CFR fighter waved at them as if they were long lost friends. The two Lufthansa pilots waved back in disbelief.
Military sounding music filled the Lufthansa pilots headsets. Frank recognized it as the national anthem of the ancient Soviet Union, after a few verses a voice told them in Russian “Izvinite, no vy vse dolzhny umeretʹ syeĭchas.”
“What did he say?” Captain Eichel said visibly shaken.
“He said... 'Sorry, but you must all die now,'” Frank told his Captain. Frank felt himself pissing himself, but he was so scared that he barely notice or even cared. The CFR fighter peeled off and flew behind the A330-300. The CFR fighter shot off a quick salvo from its nose mounted MAG gun that cleanly shattered engine two of the A330-300. The CFR fighter then spun around the wounded commercial jet and shot off engine three from its front. “He's fucking with us!”
The A330-300 began to descend towards the ground, both pilots instinctively began to cut off circuit breakers and activate the engine helion fire extinguishers as if it was another training sim. With the fires under control both pilots pushed hard on their control sticks to prevent a full stall and try to regain speed. The CFR fighter reappeared in front of the commercial jet and shot just above the cockpit; toying with them. As the fighter lined itself up to shot the cockpit it jerked up violently, but it was too late. A missile home in on it and destroyed it in a brilliant flash of light. As soon as the Lufthansa regained their vision they roared happily as four Eurostar fighter jets streaked past them towards the enemy.
“Engine one just failed. We have to land.” Frank screamed bringing them both back to their dire situation. “Were losing attitude. Cutting off engine one.”
“We can't land at an airport, they're most likely all destroyed. We can't ditch at sea, none nearby. Our only real option is to land on the highway.” Captain Eichel said thinking out loud.
“There!” Frank pointed towards a wide strip of road just ahead of them. The A330-300 landing gear lowered and its speed drastically fell as the Captain glided the jet over the highway, all the while trying hard to keep the wounded bird level against the strong crosswinds. The cars below became larger and larger an began to anticipate the planes landing and swerved to the side of the highway. The A330-300 still landed much to fast and its wheels exploded causing the plane to thrash and whip around violently. Fires erupted from the landing gears which now crumpled up against itself and the fuselage screeched against the black pavement. Most cars drove around the sliding A330-300, but a few drove right into it. The cars smashed against the wings and fuselage causing heavy damage to the plane and adding to the devastation. The A330-300 finally came to a stop and both pilots looked at each other thinking the same thing, “How are we alive?” Captain Eichel rose to his feet, but collapsed on the floor; coughing up blood. Frank stood up and tried to help Lukas up.
“Get the hell out of here!” Lukas screamed as he gagged on his own blood.
Frank hesitated and then opened the cockpit escape hatch. He tossed the escape rope over and climbed out. The smoke from the fires below choked him and when it cleared he could see that the A330-300 had created a large flaming scar through the highway. Mangled cars, bits of burning metal and distorted bodies lay all around. Frank managed to safely climb down to the ground and he went to assist with the evacuation in progress. The emergency slides were deployed and the survivors rushed out of the burning A330-300. Fire began to creep from under the aircraft to inside the cabin; which was now filling up with smoke. Frank could hear the flight attendants inside barking evacuation orders and battling the blaze with their helion fire extinguishers in a vain attempt to control the fires raging inside the plane.
“Hurry! Run! Get Out! Get to the bottom! Help people off! Get them away from the aircraft!” The petite black haired flight attendant on top of the flight slide screamed as she directed the passengers off. Her blue uniform was bloodied from a gaping wound on her shoulder.
Frank was at the bottom of the slide and pointed the survivors towards a clearing of grass just fifty meters away. Frank helped those too hurt to get to the clearing. Many had broken limbs or blistering burns. On his fifth run back to the slide he lifted a wounded flight attendant who was still wearing a PBE. Her arms, legs and hands were badly burned as she attempted to fight the fire inside the aircraft. She still clutched an empty fire extinguisher in her hands as she was pulled from the fire by another flight attendant who was still inside. Frank carried her across the highway and laid her down on the grass. She screamed as the moist grass touched her blistered skin.
Frank removed her PBE and she pointed towards the crashed A330, “Edward is still in there. He saved me! Get him out! GET HIM OUT!” Frank nodded and ran back towards the plane. Midway there the planes jet fuel ignited; tossing him back with the explosion. His ears rung and he wobbled up to his feet. The intense heat emitted from the fire forced him to back up towards the grassy clearing. The air around him was full of burning clothes that drifted down like a grim rain of confetti. Frank felt a hand clutch his leg and he looked down to see the burnt flight attendant he carried away from the plane screech in horror as a piece of another flight attendants uniform drifted down to the ground. Frank couldn't help but cry as his plane and crew burned.
SC: Flucht Nach Vorn
Fri, 28th January, 2011
A German aircrew flies a militarized commercial airplane into the heart of China on a dangerous mission to destroy the Three Gorge Dam and pave the way for the Allied invasion of mainland China.
Please feel free to leave your comments below.
Please feel free to leave your comments below.
24 hours to Operation Scorch Garden, Highway 1, Liberated Taiwan, Earth [Sol] 01022077
He sat on a busted rubber tire that was half the size of his body, it had recently been replaced from his aircraft and was waiting for a pick up. The tire was going to be recycled to make all sorts of vital wartime items such as combat boots, insulators, weapon grips, and gloves. After more then twenty years of perpetual war the waring powers of Earth recycled and reused everything they could from broken tires to the water of the recently dead. There was precious little resources left on Earth and nothing was coming from the colonies which had seceded many years earlier.
The man who sat on the tire was a Hauptmann in the German Luftwaffe and he was taking a break after a long day of battle drills and airworthiness checks. His crew slept under the shade of the modified commercial plane they affectionately called, “The Senator.” The plane originally flew for a regional American airline until the war forced America to commandeer every plane that could fly. The plane had been modified to carry two Northstar anti-air missiles and four 500 lb JDAM bombs under its wings. It also had three MAG gun ball turrets installed; two above the fuselage and one below. Another major modification to the aircraft was the gutting of the cabin, its plush leather seats removed and replaced with jump seats along the walls with zip lines for forty-two fully geared and armored paratroopers. The plane was a true relic of the past as it sported overhead wings and two large propeller engines that reminded the the Hauptmann of an ancient World War 2 bomber. As the war dragged on, militarized commercial planes and propeller powered planes became more and more common. The resources, facilities and skilled labor needed to build modern warplanes in bulk became scarce and aviation technology regressed to meet the demands of the warring powers. This particular plane was given to the Luftwaffe by the Americans since the European Union had little aircraft making capabilities left. The vast preponderance of new Allied aircraft came from the U.S. Canadian North, India and Brazil.
The German Hauptmann stood up from his seat and cautiously watched two foreign officers approach his aircraft from their blue command jeep. His aircraft was parked on the main highway of Liberated Taiwan along with thousands of other planes and their crews, which the officers ignored. The German Hauptmann was on the verge of commanding his crew to stand at attention, but the two officers waved him off from it. The first foreign officer was a Brigadier General in the U.S. Air Force and the second officer was a Republic of India Army Major.
“No need to wake them up Hauptmann Schmidt. Let them have their rest. Tomorrow is the big day,” The U.S. Air Force General said with a strong Canadian accent. “My names Brigadier General Collins, U.S. Air Force. My associate here is Major Singora of the Indian Army.” General Collins points towards Singora as the Major politely nodded. “We have special plans for you and your crew. Your mission is still the same during phase one of the invasion, but phase two has been changed for your aircraft.” Collins handed the German a red folder marked “top secret.”
Schmidt opened the folder and quickly skims through it. “This is a suicide mission.” The said after reviewing the red folder.
“What isn't these days, eh? This mission is of the utmost importance and your crew was hand selected for it. Tactical nukes don't just shit out of our asses. There are precious few left.” Collins shook his head and continued, “your crew will ferry two platoons of paratroopers across the Taiwan strait and drop them at the marked LZ behind enemy lines. After phase one is complete you will fly with the main formation to rally point 'Red' where you'll split off to your target along with a few hundred decoys and escorts. Only two of these planes will have a tactical nuke, so one of the planes has to make it to the target and destroy it.”
“Why nuke the Three Gorge Dam? Can't a simple orbital strike destroy it?” Schmidt asked.
“The Three Gorge Dam must be utterly destroyed all at one time, the entire structure is reinforced by nanites. As soon as its damaged, it repairs itself. Worst of all is that those craft Hegeemo fucks have figured out a way to use those same nanites to convert the explosive power of our bombs, orbital strikes and lasers into energy. So by attacking it with conventional means will only feed the Hegemony war machine. That dam is now the main source of energy for the People's Republic of China and powers most of China's coastal defenses and automated factories. It has to be destroyed if the invasion of China is to remotely succeed.” Collins said while staring off into the distance as he contemplated what would happened if the allies failed in its invasion of China. The surviving Allied nations would certainly break apart and the war could possibly drag on for another generation. “Do you understand your mission Hauptmann Schmidt?”
“I understand Sir,” Schmidt turned to face his sleeping crew and sadly shook his head. “I understand perfectly what is required of us.”
16 hours to Operation Scorch Garden, Camp Blue Fist (EU), Liberated Taiwan, Earth [Sol] 02022077
Frank sat by the bar nursing his fifth Canadian Blue beer and watched as the people on the dance floor bumped and grinded against one another. The dancers shouted happily with the music and many of them embraced each other with kisses. The females wore tight colorful party dresses which revealed their cleavage, while the men wore their uniforms in different stages of undress. Both men and woman carried their rifles strapped to their backs and pointed towards the ground. It was an offense punishable by twenty lashes to go anywhere without a weapon. Even in a relaxed environment like a night club they had to still be on their guard. The island of Taiwan may have been secured by the Allies but China still constantly raided it with special forces, robotic probes and missile bombardments. All in an attempt to disrupt the upcoming Allied invasion of mainland China.
Frank spotted a few members of his crew in the crowd of dancers and he smiled, it was a huge relief to see them happy. Especially after he told them about their new mission to neutralize the Three Gorge Dam deep in Chinese territory. It seemed to him like as if all of the dancers had completely forgotten about the looming invasion and the high possibly they would die in it. Frank tried looking for Leah in the crowd, but she was the only member of his crew that he could not find. He had always had a crush on her, but he had always kept his feelings secret. Fraternization between officers and enlisted personnel was strictly forbidden and the high mortality rate in aircrews made it hard to get emotionally attached. He wondered to himself if any of that mattered anymore since he was certain that they would both be dead within twenty-four hours.
“Hauptmann Frank Schmidt!” A voice in a heavy Texan accent called out to him from across the bar. “I never thought I'd find you here.”
Frank turned to face the American and did not recognize the man. “Who are you?”
“How rude of me. Master Sergeant Preston, 101st Airborne, U.S. Army.” Preston extended his hand to Frank and both shook hands. “Your ferrying my boys on that bird of yours to our LZ. Thought I'd stop by and say 'thanks.'”
“Your welcome.” Frank downed the last of his beer and stood up to walk away.
Preston grabbed Franks arm and demanded, “you better be sober tomorrow. Last thing I wanted to hear tonight was that my shitbag pilot and crew are out drinking the night before the invasion.”
“I'm letting them live a little. We'll be ready tomorrow. Now back the fuck off.” Frank released himself from Preston's grip and walked towards the exit.
“You all better be or I'll fucking have your rat sized schnitzel cut off!” Preston shouted as Frank walked out of the underground bunker that held the nightclub. Just past the sandbags piled by the entrance sat Leah on top of a broken dishwasher. She was staring at the stars above and Frank walked up to her.
“What are you doing out here Leah?” Frank asked.
“I never was much for dancing.” Leah smiled at him and turned back towards the stars above. A tear streaked down her cheek and she quickly wiped it off trying to do so before Frank saw it.
“Its OK Leah. “ Frank resisted the urge to hold her and comfort her, but she hugged him anyways and he embraced her warmly. “We all cry. We have to. Its when you stop crying for those things you've lost that it becomes a concern. That's when you cross the line from being a human to being a monster.”
“I miss them all so much. The only person still alive in my entire family is my little brother and I don't know if that's even still true. Hes up there in the colonies... somewhere.” She began to cry in his arms and soon spoke again, “The war is so close to ending and I have nothing left to live for after it does end. I want to die. I want to die tomorrow.”
It pained Frank to hear her talk like that. He looked into her sad brown eyes and stroked her black hair trying to calm her. Her once youthful face had aged poorly in the last two years he had known her due to the constant stress of war, depression, and food shortages. “Don't talk like that. There are people out there who care about you and your death would be hard on them. After this war is over, you can start a family and rebuild your life.”
“Who still cares about me? I'm cannon fodder. Are you talking about my brother?”
“Yes. Your brother.” Frank wiped a tear from her face and desperately wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do anything to let her know that someone still cared about her. That he cared about her. He leaned in closer to kiss her, but the ground shook violently beneath them. They instinctively hit the ground and lifted their rifles up towards the sky. High above them the fire of missiles and the lights of aerial combat filled the black night sky. All around them explosions rocked the base and the high pitched whine of artillery shells told them that the Chinese had launched an attack on Taiwan. The air raid siren blared and both Frank and Leah slowly crawled towards the nightclub bunker. After twenty long minutes they finally entered the nightclub to wait out the bombardment by Chinese shells. The dancers inside the club were completely oblivious to the barrage outside as they danced with the heavy pounding beat of techno music.
He sat on a busted rubber tire that was half the size of his body, it had recently been replaced from his aircraft and was waiting for a pick up. The tire was going to be recycled to make all sorts of vital wartime items such as combat boots, insulators, weapon grips, and gloves. After more then twenty years of perpetual war the waring powers of Earth recycled and reused everything they could from broken tires to the water of the recently dead. There was precious little resources left on Earth and nothing was coming from the colonies which had seceded many years earlier.
The man who sat on the tire was a Hauptmann in the German Luftwaffe and he was taking a break after a long day of battle drills and airworthiness checks. His crew slept under the shade of the modified commercial plane they affectionately called, “The Senator.” The plane originally flew for a regional American airline until the war forced America to commandeer every plane that could fly. The plane had been modified to carry two Northstar anti-air missiles and four 500 lb JDAM bombs under its wings. It also had three MAG gun ball turrets installed; two above the fuselage and one below. Another major modification to the aircraft was the gutting of the cabin, its plush leather seats removed and replaced with jump seats along the walls with zip lines for forty-two fully geared and armored paratroopers. The plane was a true relic of the past as it sported overhead wings and two large propeller engines that reminded the the Hauptmann of an ancient World War 2 bomber. As the war dragged on, militarized commercial planes and propeller powered planes became more and more common. The resources, facilities and skilled labor needed to build modern warplanes in bulk became scarce and aviation technology regressed to meet the demands of the warring powers. This particular plane was given to the Luftwaffe by the Americans since the European Union had little aircraft making capabilities left. The vast preponderance of new Allied aircraft came from the U.S. Canadian North, India and Brazil.
The German Hauptmann stood up from his seat and cautiously watched two foreign officers approach his aircraft from their blue command jeep. His aircraft was parked on the main highway of Liberated Taiwan along with thousands of other planes and their crews, which the officers ignored. The German Hauptmann was on the verge of commanding his crew to stand at attention, but the two officers waved him off from it. The first foreign officer was a Brigadier General in the U.S. Air Force and the second officer was a Republic of India Army Major.
“No need to wake them up Hauptmann Schmidt. Let them have their rest. Tomorrow is the big day,” The U.S. Air Force General said with a strong Canadian accent. “My names Brigadier General Collins, U.S. Air Force. My associate here is Major Singora of the Indian Army.” General Collins points towards Singora as the Major politely nodded. “We have special plans for you and your crew. Your mission is still the same during phase one of the invasion, but phase two has been changed for your aircraft.” Collins handed the German a red folder marked “top secret.”
Schmidt opened the folder and quickly skims through it. “This is a suicide mission.” The said after reviewing the red folder.
“What isn't these days, eh? This mission is of the utmost importance and your crew was hand selected for it. Tactical nukes don't just shit out of our asses. There are precious few left.” Collins shook his head and continued, “your crew will ferry two platoons of paratroopers across the Taiwan strait and drop them at the marked LZ behind enemy lines. After phase one is complete you will fly with the main formation to rally point 'Red' where you'll split off to your target along with a few hundred decoys and escorts. Only two of these planes will have a tactical nuke, so one of the planes has to make it to the target and destroy it.”
“Why nuke the Three Gorge Dam? Can't a simple orbital strike destroy it?” Schmidt asked.
“The Three Gorge Dam must be utterly destroyed all at one time, the entire structure is reinforced by nanites. As soon as its damaged, it repairs itself. Worst of all is that those craft Hegeemo fucks have figured out a way to use those same nanites to convert the explosive power of our bombs, orbital strikes and lasers into energy. So by attacking it with conventional means will only feed the Hegemony war machine. That dam is now the main source of energy for the People's Republic of China and powers most of China's coastal defenses and automated factories. It has to be destroyed if the invasion of China is to remotely succeed.” Collins said while staring off into the distance as he contemplated what would happened if the allies failed in its invasion of China. The surviving Allied nations would certainly break apart and the war could possibly drag on for another generation. “Do you understand your mission Hauptmann Schmidt?”
“I understand Sir,” Schmidt turned to face his sleeping crew and sadly shook his head. “I understand perfectly what is required of us.”
16 hours to Operation Scorch Garden, Camp Blue Fist (EU), Liberated Taiwan, Earth [Sol] 02022077
Frank sat by the bar nursing his fifth Canadian Blue beer and watched as the people on the dance floor bumped and grinded against one another. The dancers shouted happily with the music and many of them embraced each other with kisses. The females wore tight colorful party dresses which revealed their cleavage, while the men wore their uniforms in different stages of undress. Both men and woman carried their rifles strapped to their backs and pointed towards the ground. It was an offense punishable by twenty lashes to go anywhere without a weapon. Even in a relaxed environment like a night club they had to still be on their guard. The island of Taiwan may have been secured by the Allies but China still constantly raided it with special forces, robotic probes and missile bombardments. All in an attempt to disrupt the upcoming Allied invasion of mainland China.
Frank spotted a few members of his crew in the crowd of dancers and he smiled, it was a huge relief to see them happy. Especially after he told them about their new mission to neutralize the Three Gorge Dam deep in Chinese territory. It seemed to him like as if all of the dancers had completely forgotten about the looming invasion and the high possibly they would die in it. Frank tried looking for Leah in the crowd, but she was the only member of his crew that he could not find. He had always had a crush on her, but he had always kept his feelings secret. Fraternization between officers and enlisted personnel was strictly forbidden and the high mortality rate in aircrews made it hard to get emotionally attached. He wondered to himself if any of that mattered anymore since he was certain that they would both be dead within twenty-four hours.
“Hauptmann Frank Schmidt!” A voice in a heavy Texan accent called out to him from across the bar. “I never thought I'd find you here.”
Frank turned to face the American and did not recognize the man. “Who are you?”
“How rude of me. Master Sergeant Preston, 101st Airborne, U.S. Army.” Preston extended his hand to Frank and both shook hands. “Your ferrying my boys on that bird of yours to our LZ. Thought I'd stop by and say 'thanks.'”
“Your welcome.” Frank downed the last of his beer and stood up to walk away.
Preston grabbed Franks arm and demanded, “you better be sober tomorrow. Last thing I wanted to hear tonight was that my shitbag pilot and crew are out drinking the night before the invasion.”
“I'm letting them live a little. We'll be ready tomorrow. Now back the fuck off.” Frank released himself from Preston's grip and walked towards the exit.
“You all better be or I'll fucking have your rat sized schnitzel cut off!” Preston shouted as Frank walked out of the underground bunker that held the nightclub. Just past the sandbags piled by the entrance sat Leah on top of a broken dishwasher. She was staring at the stars above and Frank walked up to her.
“What are you doing out here Leah?” Frank asked.
“I never was much for dancing.” Leah smiled at him and turned back towards the stars above. A tear streaked down her cheek and she quickly wiped it off trying to do so before Frank saw it.
“Its OK Leah. “ Frank resisted the urge to hold her and comfort her, but she hugged him anyways and he embraced her warmly. “We all cry. We have to. Its when you stop crying for those things you've lost that it becomes a concern. That's when you cross the line from being a human to being a monster.”
“I miss them all so much. The only person still alive in my entire family is my little brother and I don't know if that's even still true. Hes up there in the colonies... somewhere.” She began to cry in his arms and soon spoke again, “The war is so close to ending and I have nothing left to live for after it does end. I want to die. I want to die tomorrow.”
It pained Frank to hear her talk like that. He looked into her sad brown eyes and stroked her black hair trying to calm her. Her once youthful face had aged poorly in the last two years he had known her due to the constant stress of war, depression, and food shortages. “Don't talk like that. There are people out there who care about you and your death would be hard on them. After this war is over, you can start a family and rebuild your life.”
“Who still cares about me? I'm cannon fodder. Are you talking about my brother?”
“Yes. Your brother.” Frank wiped a tear from her face and desperately wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do anything to let her know that someone still cared about her. That he cared about her. He leaned in closer to kiss her, but the ground shook violently beneath them. They instinctively hit the ground and lifted their rifles up towards the sky. High above them the fire of missiles and the lights of aerial combat filled the black night sky. All around them explosions rocked the base and the high pitched whine of artillery shells told them that the Chinese had launched an attack on Taiwan. The air raid siren blared and both Frank and Leah slowly crawled towards the nightclub bunker. After twenty long minutes they finally entered the nightclub to wait out the bombardment by Chinese shells. The dancers inside the club were completely oblivious to the barrage outside as they danced with the heavy pounding beat of techno music.
Allied Briefing:
Indian National Army
United States Army
Indian National Army
United States Army
Zero Hour Operation Scorch Garden, Taiwan Strait, Earth [Sol] 02022077
Master Sergeant Preston slowly walked down the length of the cabin, with each step he took he'd make a loud clanging sound when his armored suit made contact with the metal floor of the aircraft. Preston completely ignored the constant dips, turns and rocking of the aircraft as it avoided or felt the powerful shock waves of Chinese anti-aircraft fire. Preston's unit all sat in their jumpseats on the right side of the aircraft. They wore armored suits with massive four foot long MR-69 rifles tucked between their legs. The American suits were painted black with large gold “U.S.” imprinted on their bulky armored shoulders. A few Americans wore a different paint job from the others, their armor was Arctic white with large hand painted red maple leafs over their hearts. One man's leaf was in a craggy shade of brown, as if he'd painted it with blood. On the left side of the aircraft was twenty-one Indian paratroopers who wore heavy Kevlar armor which covered their chest, groin, and neck. The Indians armor and uniform had a tiger strip jungle camo pattern and a small Indian flag on their right arm. The Indians also wore a modified Kevlar helmet which was larger then normal military helmets so they could easily fit their modified black turbans underneath; these turbans were required to be worn by every Sikh male. The Indian paratroopers were armed with a wide variety of weapons, everything from American M-16's to Chinese PKR-55's. They all carried a large khanda sword with a golden hilt at their sides, these swords were functional for both close combat and also for Sikh religious ceremonies. The Sikh people had always been a tribe of warriors and naturally they gravitated towards the most dangerous positions of the Indian Army. The Sikh made up the bulk of India's elite shock troopers and special forces.
Once Master Sergeant Preston reached the cockpit door he turned to face his men and the Indian Paratroopers. “Listen up gentlemen.” Preston's men stared attentively at him while their helmets retracted into their suits as a sign of respect. The Americans youthful faces contrasted drastically with their Indian counterparts across from them, most of the Americans were still baby faced teenagers while the Indians were middle aged men with full beards and mustaches. “Soldiers of the 101st Airborne and of the 15th Indian MERCOS were on the verge of ending this goddamn war. A war my father and his father died fighting in. Victory is not assured for us. We got here by fighting the Heegemo's for every scrap of land between our homelands and China. They did not make it easy for us. We lost so many along the way and we will lose a heck of a lot more taking their homeland. Do not show them any mercy, because they showed our people none. We will ravage, pillage, rape and kill them. America and India felt all of those things under their occupation, now it is time to repay them back with interest.” The men all nodded in agreement.
“LZ Monkey. ONE MINUTE!” Captain Schmidt said over the planes PA system cutting Preston off.
“This is it men. Don't get careless and give it everything you got. We still have a war to win.” Preston smiled as the men cheered. The Indians began to chant “Jai Hind” as the Americans shouted “Hoo-Ah!” Soon both the Americans and Indians were shouting each others war cries. Preston's helmet rose up over his head again and so did the helmets of the men in his unit. The Indians removed a small face mask that hung unnoticed in front of their camos and secured it over their mouth and nose. The mask lit up brightly and the Indians took deep breaths from it. Preston hooked himself up to the zip line and within seconds he had made his way to the rear of the aircraft. The rest of the soldiers followed his example and shuffled towards the rear. The aircraft shook as its rear door opened and the oxygen, heat and pressure rushed out from the plane. Preston hesitated for a second; he had never witnessed anything like what he saw now. The Taiwan Strait was filled with Allied ships, so much so that from the air it looked like Taiwan and China was connected by a grayish land bridge. The air all around buzzed with Allied aircraft of all types, these planes blocked out the yellow sky like a swarm of hungry locust. The sound from the battle raging in every direction was indescribable, it was so loud that his armor's computer was forced to shut down and reboot it audio sensors to prevent an overload of data. Preston recovered from his moment of doubt and dashed off of the aircraft. He jumped down towards the ground and could see millions of muzzle flashes going off on the beaches below. Preston checked his computer and smiled knowing that everyone jumped and everyone was still alive. Although he was well aware that most of those jumping with him would be dead within a few hours.
49 minutes past Zero hour, Operation Scorch Garden, China, Earth [Sol] 02022077
“Reaching rally point red. The main Allied formation is splitting up and soon were going to have to deal with more anti-air fire and UAV's.” Franks eyes went from the radar to his co-pilot then to the video links of his other three crew members. All three gunners gave Frank a thumbs up; telling him that they understood and that they were ready. Hauptgefreiter Leah Kirsch was on ball turret one, the quad anti-air chain gun turret closest to the cockpit and up on top of the aircraft fuselage. She was a gunner and a fire control specialist. Leah was born in Hamburg, Germany then moved to the United States to work for one of their airlines as a Flight Attendant, but when the Hegemony invaded America she fled back to Germany. The Hegemony would invade the European Union a few years later and she was conscripted into the Luftwaffe mainly because she was already accustomed to being in an aircraft crew. Oberfeldwebel Lukas Meier was on ball turret two, the dual anti-air missile turret located in the rear of the aircraft on top of the fuselage attached to the tail. Lukas was from Berlin and was a former cell phone tower technician who had volunteered to join the Americans in its fight for survival against the Hegemony in one of the many secret E.U. volunteer divisions sent to America. Meier was the only person on the crew with actual ground combat experience and an American Silver Star earned in the Battle of Memphis. Meier later returned to the E.U. and became a gunner, combat medic and paratrooper for the Luftwaffe. The last man was Hauptgefreiter Abraham Traugott who was on ball turret three, the largest turret, which was at the bottom midsection of the aircraft. Unlike the other two anti-air turrets this dual 22 inch air-to-surface howitzer turret was specifically for ground fire support. Traugott was the only member of his crew that wasn't officially in the Luftwaffe or even a citizen of the E.U., Traugott was a surviving member of the Israeli Air Force. Traugott had fled on one of the last transports out of Israel before it was overrun by the Holy Islamic Empire. He took refuge in Germany along with 400,000 other Israeli Jews. Traugott was a gunner and the second fire control specialist on board the aircraft.
The aircraft banked hard and split from the main formation which was lingering around the Allied invasion forces fighting on the beaches. They headed west along the Yangtze River with two hundred other Allied aircraft. Along the way the occasional anti-air fire would destroy an Allied plane, but Chinese resistance was light and non-existent in some places. The Chinese was putting up stiff resistance on the beaches, but the formation of Allied planes heading deep into China went unmolested. The lack of enemy resistance unnerved most of the Allied aircrews heading to the Three Gorge Dam, but they took the opportunity to destroy any targets of opportunity that present themselves and there were many of them.
“Hauptmann, I see six PLA tanks escorting a column of roughly sixteen thousand Chinese refugees further west. They are using the mountains below as cover. I wouldn't have seen it on the thermos if it wasn't for one of the civvies lighting up a cigarette. They are concealed very well and moving slow. Permission to engage.” Traugott said as he relayed the images to Frank.
“Permission granted, but only hit the tanks. We're not in the business of killing non-combatants.” Frank leaned the aircraft to its right and Traugott let loose with his howitzer turrets. The PLA tanks each took a salvo of football sized rounds and were propelled twenty feet in the air and tumbled back towards the earth in a heap of shredded metal.
“Targets destroyed. Civilian casualties limited to around fifty.” Traugott said as Frank surveyed the attack from his computer up in the cockpit. Frank didn't want anymore civilians to have to die with the war so close to ending, but he had to take out those tanks. He was just glad the number of casualties were kept to a minimum due to Traugott's expert shooting. Just as he was patting himself on the back for minimizing civilian casualties, two American F-22's split off from the formation and began strafing the column of Chinese civilians. The F-22's were attracted by the fires from the burning PLA tanks and went down to investigate. The F-22's made three passes through the civilian column and completely wiped it out. The civilians were trapped on a mountain pass with burning tanks blocking their only exits and the American F-22's made quick work of them. Frank screamed an insult aimed towards the pilots of those F-22's and he switched off the images from his computer of thousands of torn bodies laying dead on a mountain pass.
The Allied formation flew uncontested for another twenty minutes until they reached within fifty miles of the dam. The airspace around them became filled with heavy anti-air fire and many Allied planes were hit. The Allied planes returned fire and shot thousands of air-to-surface missiles towards anything that shot at them. Traugott's Howitzer began to constantly fire towards the ground and the propeller aircraft shook with each salvo. Traugott's turret was unrelenting in its task of destroying enemy anti-air positions.
“Picking up enemy aircraft approaching the formation.” Leah told Frank as her gun began to fire at some unknown target above them.
“Meier you seeing anything?” Frank asked his other anti-air gunner. Meier nodded back to him on the video link and began to engage the same target that Leah was trying to take down.
“Be advised Chinese stealth fighters are hitting us from all sides. Normal Chinese fighters are scrambling. Take them out.” A voice called out over Frank's headset. It was Major Higgins of the British Royal Air Force, who was leading the assault on board a modified Boeing 777 that had been converted into a command-and-control center. All around the Allied formation modern Chinese stealth fighters were ripping through the Allied planes . They were causing chaos to cover the launch of the other Chinese planes; many of which were museum pieces, captured Allied planes and souped up propeller fighter planes.
Frank ignored the planes and left them to his skilled gunners to fend them off. He was looking for his target and it wasn't long before he could see the gargantuan structure of the Three Gorge Dam just up ahead. Its 2335 meter long concrete wall held back the entire Yangtze river. It stood a mind-boggling 181 meters and easily dwarfed everything around it including the tallest building in the town of Sandouping. Sandouping was a small town of 25,000 before the war, but had now ballooned into a city of nearly 500,000. The town was originally built to house the dam's workers and their families, but now it was filled with thousands of scientists, factory workers, and soldiers who were a part of the PLA military industrial complex that had sprung up around the dam. The area around the dam had now developed into a major hub of China's military power. It was centrally located deep in China and supposed to be impenetrable, but the overwhelming Allied invasion allowed this formation of Allied warplanes to slip past the Chinese defensive line along its eastern coastline.
“I'm seeing a lot of enemy fire coming from Sandouping. It looks random, but we could get hit since this is a lumbering beast of a plane.” Franks co-pilot said as they took a hard left and barely missed being hit by a missile aimed at another plane.
“We got to lose some weight. Drop all of the bombs under the wings except the nuke and shoot off the two air-to-air missiles we have. Just for good measure.”
“Are you sure Hauptmann? We'd be defenseless.”
“We'd be more nimble. We still have our ball turrets operational.”
“Okay Hauptmann. Any specific target?”
“Anything Chinese.” Frank said slightly irritated. His co-pilot nodded and launched the air-to-air missiles first. The first missile missed its target and fell harmlessly into the river below. The second connected with a small prop powered Chinese fighter, completely vaporizing it in the resulting explosion. The co-pilot then released three of the four 500 pound bombs underneath the planes wing. The bombs fell straight down and as it approached the ground its rockets kicked in and changed the bombs trajectory. All three slammed against a twenty story building in the center of Sandouping and the building collapsed in on itself.
“Were almost within range of the dam.” Frank said to himself as he took his plane down to a lower altitude. As he descended he was able to see more of what he was up against. The entire earth below looked like it was bleeding fire, both from the firing of thousands of anti-air guns and the shifting of nanites as they rebuilt what the Allies destroyed. Frank gasped in horror as he watched a downed Brazilian Embraer ERJ 145 slam against a five story anti-air gun tower; taking it out in a final act of courage. The fire and debris from the crash morphed into a new anti-air tower. This tower was taller and had absorbed the metal and guns of the downed Allied aircraft. “Did you see that?” Frank asked his co-pilot who nodded back. “The nanites are feeding off of us.”
“Lifeguard Two destroyed. Lifeguard Two destroyed.” General Higgins called out over the radio. Frank knew exactly what that meant; the second tactical nuke had been destroyed. “Lifeguard One! Lifeguard One! Deliver the strike package! Your in range!” Frank heard Higgins yell in panic over his headset.
“Lifeguard One strike package primed.” Frank activated the bomb by punching in its code on the cockpits dashboard. “Computer locking on the target. Five... four... three... two...” As he was about to count off the last second an unknown force jerked the plane from side to side and he became completely blind. The fire alarms wailed in the cockpit and he was certain he heard screaming. “What the fuck just happened?” Frank wiped his eyes with his hands and was able to see again. He turned towards his co-pilot and discovered that he was dead with a gaping hole in his chest. He checked the video links on his cockpit dashboard and saw Meier's camera showed nothing but sky, his turret had been completely blown off. Traugott was missing from turret, but Frank could hear him screaming in Hebrew in the cabin. Frank suspected that he was fighting the fires that had broken out inside the aircraft. On the last video link he saw Leah hunched over her seat breathing heavily. “Leah are you okay?”
“I'm fine Frank.” Leah said in great pain. “Damn Chinese got the drop on us. Strafed the entire length of our bird, but I got him.”
“Leah I had no doubt you would have... Sam and Lukas are both dead. Traugott is still with us. He's on fire control. Can you move Leah?”
“I'll try.” She straightened herself out and revealed a golf ball sized wound on her stomach. She touched the blood flowing from her wound and turned white. “Is that really my blood? Is this really happening?! Is that my blood?!”
“Leah calm down!” Frank shouted as he reset the plane's computer to fire the tactical nuke.
“Oh my God! If this is my entry wound, what's my back like?! I can't feel my legs!” Leah began to panic and squirm in her seat, but only succeeded in losing more blood.
It took everything in him to ignore her dying cries so he could enter the launch code again. He counted off the seconds, but the bomb refused to launch. He tried it again and then a third time until he just smashed his fist on the dashboard in frustration. “Goddamn Canadian piece of shit! Those fucking Canadians can't make anything right! Fucking electronics malfunction!”
“Frank. Frank. Frank. I can't dance. Well you teach me?” Leah asked him in a daze.
Frank immediately recognized that Leah was losing control of her higher brain functions due to blood loss and was randomly recalling a recent memory. He told her, “I will. As soon as we get out of this.” Frank tried to launch the bomb for a fourth time.
“Who still cares about me?” Leah asked all of a sudden. She sobbed as she spoke. She clutched her stomach as if she suddenly realized that she was dying again.
“I do Leah.” Frank jerked the plane to the right and rapidly dipped further lower in altitude to avoid being hit by an errant enemy missile. He heard Traugott scream something in Hebrew that he was certain was a insult. Franks attention immediately went back to Leah who was now slumped in her chair completely motionless. Frank howled in agony and the plane shook as it took another hit of machine gun fire. The bullets ripped through the cockpit window and shredded the lifeless body of Frank's co-pilot, splattering his face with blood once again. Frank hesitated for a moment and he knew what he had to do. He had nothing left to live for in this world and he decided he would make sure his crews lives weren't just cannon fodder. Their sacrifice would mean something, their sacrifice would end this war.
“Frank, you can do this.” The Hauptmann said to himself, trying to alleviate his fears.
128 minutes past Operation Scorch Garden, LZ Monkey, China, Earth [Sol]
Master Sergeant Preston raced across three meters of open ground while taking heavy machine gun fire from numerous dug in PLA pill boxes high up on a ridge. He had just taken out a PLA pill box with a well placed grenade and he just barely made it back to the safety of a large crater that dozens of Allied soldiers were using for cover. The crater was created by one of the thousands of Allied ships out in the Taiwanese Strait constantly bombarding Chinese defensive positions along the beaches. Preston and his men had landed behind the first line of Chinese defenses on the beach and were actually on the ridges overlooking the beaches. They were on a mission to destroy the MAG guns on the ridge while causing as much ruckus as they could behind enemy lines. They were stuck between the Chinese beach defenses and the large automated defenses that overlooked the blood soaked beaches. These automated PLA defenses were as numerous as the sands on the beaches below, they consisted of everything from lowly machine gun turrets to massive MAG guns. The MAG guns were causing the most trouble for the Allied invasion forces. Its powerful cannons could slice open and sink an Allied cruiser in just one hit. The MAG guns would blow an Allied ship apart in one hit then move on to its next target in a span of twenty seconds. Soon enough hundreds of Allied ships laid in the bottom of the sea along with hundreds of thousands of Allied personnel. The Allied invasion force was taking heavy losses on the beaches and it was impossible for the Allies to get enough reinforcements on the beaches to hold their toehold of Chinese soil.
“Preston we're fucking pinned man. Those automated guns are relentless and we can't do shit about it!” One of Preston's men cried out. The soldier was taking shots at the fast approaching PLA soldiers who were now surrounding them and attempting to wipe them out.
“How many C-4's we got?” Preston asked the man.
“All together around fifteen. Enough to take down those three MAG guns up ahead, but we ain't gonna get anywhere near it with that much machine gun fire in the way.” The soldier took a bullet to his shoulder and reeled back in pain. A medic inside the crater crawled to him and began patching up his wound.
“We have to take out those MAG guns or the invasion is fucked. Were going to have to leave the crater and rush the machine guns. Its all we can do.” Preston said as he reached below his legs and tossed a rapture grenade in front of his position. The first PLA soldier ran into its range and immediately fell to the ground dead, his comrades instantly backed off and approached from another angle. More PLA soldiers appeared from further up the ridge, they numbered around two hundred. “Guess we pissed them off. They're coming at us in full force. Get the radio.” A radioman handed Preston a handset and he began talking on it, “Bravo Lima Hotel. Second platoon, Echo Company, 101st Airborne requesting air support on Hegeemo forces. Danger close 4-8-6-8 Zulu Charlie.”
“Bravo Lima Hotel, that is a negative on air support. Our birds are currently occupied.” The air combat controller on the other side of the radio replied.
“Fuck!” Preston tossed the handset to the ground in disgust and lifted his rifle up to meet the overwhelming line of PLA soldiers. Preston and his men fired at the fast approaching enemy, but with every kill another three PLA soldiers would replace their fallen comrade on the line. Preston began to make peace with the fact that he had failed his mission and had failed his men. Leading them into a bombed out crater, completely trapped and pinned down. Just waiting to die.
Almost in unison the American soldiers shouted, “HOLY SHIT!” The entire front of the PLA advance instantly vaporized in a ball of crimson fire that arched from a PLA flame tank in the distance. The tank resembled a giant tea kettle with treads, its long nuzzle like cannon stayed fixed on the advancing Chinese. The lightly armored Chinese caught in its flames were vaporized instantly, but those with heavier suits were cooked alive in their armor. The fire from the PLA flame tank was so intense that it was impossible to extinguish, the fire would burn until the chemical reaction ended in anywhere from five to ten minutes after it hit its target. “Red-on-Red?” One of the Americans yelled unclear what exactly was going on. The PLA soldiers feeling the wrath of the tank retreated in confusion and began shooting back at the errant flame tank.
“We have unknown contacts incoming from the area the tank just cleared.” A soldier informed Master Sergeant Preston as he pointed at a break in the fire. A dozen shadows could be seen through the smoke, they were moving low and fast towards the crater. “Master Sarge can we engage?”
Preston hesitated to answer and he motioned his men to wait. “Hold your fire! Friendlies! Friendlies!” Preston instantly recognized the distinctive over sized helmet of the Indian Sikh Paratroopers through the smoke. The first Indian popped out of the smoke and Preston waved him over. The Indian dashed across the open ground and leaped into the crater, the other remaining Indian Paratroopers did the same. They crossed the open ground completely unmolested since the PLA flame tank was drawing all of the enemy fire, including the fire from the automated machine gun nests.
“Preston you lazy dog. I thought you'd be in Beijing by now.” An Indian Staff Sergeant told Preston with a smile.
“The Hegeemos decided they wanted to complicate shit.” Preston told the Indian, getting a slight chuckle from him. “Sid where did you get that tank?”
“We borrowed it from the CHICOMs. It was real easy to hack it and take control. The CHICOMs are using the same exact designs as our own flame tanks. Dumb ass unoriginal CHICOMs.” The assembled Allied soldiers laughed together.
“Well Sid, were about to charge those machine guns to take them out. You want in?” Preston said still laughing.
Sid looked at him in disbelief, then nodded. “You crazy Americans have too much balls for your own good.” The hacked PLA flame tank ruptured under the intense Chinese fire and it exploded in a fireball that formed a mini mushroom cloud. “We Sikh will make this charge with you, but we must do one last thing.” Sid removed a large Republic of India flag out of his pack and tied it securely with a pair of shoelaces unto a small metal pole. “Now we can charge! JAI HIND! JAI HIND!” Sid waved the flag over his head and the Allied soldiers cheered and chanted the battle cry of India.
“OVER THE TOP!” Preston ordered. Preston and Sid were the first ones out of the crater and they dashed forward. The other Allied soldiers climbed over the top and ran with them. Advancing and shooting. Shooting and advancing. The automated machine guns zeroed in on them and ripped through them. Sid was cut down by a burst of machine gun fire that ripped him in half, the flag he held dipped and fell towards the ground. Preston snatched the blood splattered flag before it could touch the ground and lifted it high up in the air. The Allied soldiers pressed on and the PLA soldiers just sat and watched in amusement as the Allied soldiers were being torn apart by automated machine gun fire. The machine gun fire suddenly stopped and the Americans and Indians rapidly closed the distance and fell upon the Chinese soldiers. The Chinese soldiers were rendered completely paralyzed by the fact that their automated defenses had stopped working. After a short, but brutal skirmish the Allied soldiers wiped out the remaining PLA soldiers on that ridge.
“Master Sarge, the Chinese automated defenses have stopped working. Not just here, but all along the beaches. It's a goddamn miracle.” An American with a French Canadian accent said happily.
“That's good news Corporal. We don't know how long that will last or how long until the Hegeemo's bring reinforcements so I want you to form three squads of three men to take down those three MAG guns up ahead.”
“Yes Master Sarge!” The soldier ran off to gather more men.
“It's truly a miracle.” Preston said under his breath as he folded the flag still in his hands. His helmet retracted back into his armor and he took a deep breath. Two Sikhs were going through the Chinese dead for ammunition and intel. Occasional they find one still alive and they would stab him through with their gold-hilted khanda swords. Preston turned towards the beaches and he watched as the Chinese forces on the beach were in full retreat and the Allies were pouring millions of men onto Chinese soil. “Truly a miracle.”
Hauptmann – German – Luftwaffe officer rank equal to Captain.
Hauptgefreiter – German – Luftwaffe enlisted rank equal to Sergeant.
Oberfeldwebel – German – Luftwaffe enlisted rank equal to Master Sergeant.
Red-on-Red – Military Term – Enemy on enemy hostile contact.
CHICOM – Slang – Short for “communist Chinese.”
Jai Hind – Hindi – Battle cry of the Indian National Army, translates roughly to “Victory to India.”
LIFEGUARD ONE:
Original Civilian Version
Original Civilian Version