Krieger Platoon

by Jay Ivanovich

  Jon and Bag instantly realized why Matt had called them over. You don’t broadcast on an unencrypted channel unless it was an emergency, and even then it was risky. Entire teams have been killed because some bad guys traced their signal back to them. Why would Sarah take that risk? Matt switched the radio off temporarily, and stared at them expectantly. “It’s a recording, and it’s been playing like that for as long as I’ve been on the channel. The connection isn’t secured though, so anyone who patches in can hear it… what do you want to do?”

  James walked into the troop bay, at the same time the whining of drop ship engines came into ear shot. “Hey the drop ships are here, and they’re the damn Navy… I don’t get it, I’m pretty sure we had Army transports assigned to us…right?” James was honestly confused by it, and rightly so. Dealing with the CIA was one thing, but now the Navy?

  The group walked onto the ramp of the troop bay as three small, but heavily armed drop ships landed on the narrow roof of the parking garage. Small was in comparison to the larger version of the ships. These were still three times as big as the Stealth Hawk Helicopters, made of solid stealth materials paints a grey striped camouflage, and shaped like a crisp rounded rectangle with two stubby wings coming out either side to house its large propulsion thrusters. The front of the drop ship, where the cockpit was, came together in a sharp point that made the whole craft look like some aquatic predator. Just behind the cockpit on either side of the fuselage were large extrusions which housed the ships missile pods, and under the nose was the ships main chain cannon. The ships were designed for close fire support and speed, but they couldn’t survive extended periods in space, or even lift much weight besides a platoon of soldiers.

  The ramps of the drop ships opened a moment later and a good dozen heavily armed soldiers wearing full faced helmets and black, blue, and grey hexagonal pattern camouflage, ran out and formed a long line in front of the ARV’s. Jon narrowed his eyes. That didn’t seem right… “That’s a lot of soldiers for an evac… James, go talk to them and work out the details. I want to leave soon.”

  James nodded and walked over to one of the soldiers that appeared to be the leader. Bag and Jon sat down on the seats next to Matt, as Bag began to adjust his wrist coms to channel 27.58. “Patch me through, Matt.”

  Matt nodded, and a moment later he connected Bag to the amplifier. “This is Krieger Actual to One Bravo, do you read us? Over.”

  A few seconds passed by, when Sarah respond in an obviously stressed manner. “Bag? Thank God! Listen, we were setup! The crew ambushed us as soon as we took off! My team…they’re all dead. I’m the only one left…”

  The group exchanged very concerned glances. Wait, what did she say? Bag rekeyed his radio. “Whoa, slow down. What’s going on? Who attacked you exactly?”

  Sarah let out a long sigh, and slowly spoke. “Like I said, it was the crew of the drop ship. I think they were Navy. We got caught off guard and...they killed my team… I’ve just been sitting here waiting to get ahold of someone trustworthy, because I don’t really want to return to Fort Greg by myself…”

  She wasn’t kidding. Sarah just didn’t joke around like that. Bag looked over to Jon to see if he shared in his own thoughts. “Did you hear all that?”

  “Yeah…” Jon responded low and suspicious, then glanced over to the line of Navy combatants as James walked back into the troop bay and shook his head in annoyance. “They want us to muster everyone and do a roll call. They also said they need to see Lee’s body to confirm he is KIA or some shit like that… Who the hell do they think they are?”

  Jon moved over next to James and whispered to him. “Ok, form up just the guys that are sitting around, but have the guys on patrol stay out there for now… And pass the word on, Blue Falcon.”

  James hesitated as he took in Jon’s words, and saw the serious in his expression. He finally nodded cautiously and began to walk out of the troop bay when Jon grabbed his arm. “Hey…safeties off. We clear?”

  James responded warily. “Yeah, understood…”

  Bag keyed his radio again. “Sarah, stay on this channel. We’ll call you back in a few. Do NOT speak to anyone else, not even Patriot. Understood?”

  Sarah acknowledged somewhat uneasy. “Alright…”

  Bag disconnected his wrist coms and whispered toward Matt. “Quietly, go around and tell the armor crew to warm up their vehicles and be ready for combat.”

  Matt nodded subtly, understanding exactly what was about to happen. Still though, it was a little surreal. “Bag, do you really think this is a Blue Falcon situation?”

  Bag nodded seriously. “We have our own transports that are designed to carry our tanks… Those Navy drop ships aren’t designed to lift heavy equipment, period. Plus look at how many of them there are… Why the hell do you need an entire platoon of soldiers to escort another platoon of soldiers? You heard Sarah, this IS a Blue Falcon situation.”

  Matt nodded then slowly walked out of the troop bay to the other armor units. Bag stood up and leaned into the cabin of Armor One, and shook Valor and Alighten who were both fast asleep in their respected chairs. “Hey…I need you boys to warm up the guns.”

  Valor yawned loudly and rolled over in his chair. “Ok Bag… OH SHIT, BAG! YOU’RE ALIVE!” Valor jumped up and grabbed Bag by the shoulders and began to shake him in excitement. Alighten woke up a moment later and began laughing. Bag smiled and cough painfully, and motioned for Valor to stop. “Alright! Thanks man, I’m glad to be here too but…please, my wound still hurts pretty bad…”

  Valor laughed and grinned widely. “Hah, yeah sorry boss. What was it you wanted now?”

  Bag covered his mouth and whispered seriously. “Warm up the tank and be ready for a Blue Falcon fight.”

  Valor looked at Bag crossly, then leaned out of the cabin and saw the large group of Navy Combatants standing around like robots. “Blue falcon? That have something to do with those boys?”

  Bag subtly nodded. “If things go south…put a 105mm through the cabin of that drop ship… and both of you make sure your side arms are handy.”

  Alighten and Valor exchanged concerned glances, as Alighten stood up and stretched. “Alright…” Then leaned over to Valor and whispered as Bag left the tank. “What’s a Blue Falcon?”

  Valor whispered as quietly as he could. “It means buddy fucker, like when you get friendly fired. Yo, I told you this whole thing didn’t smell right. Did I not tell you?”

  Alighten laughed and let out a long sigh. “Just get your computer dialed in.”

  The platoon was formed up in a sloppy line in front of the stone faced Sailors; Bag walked up next to Jon who was standing at parade rest with his hands behind his lower back. Hmm…he hadn’t seen him be so military since…ever. One of the Sailors approached Bag and saluted. He looked like a first class petty officer by the subtle grey rank insignias on his collar. “Colonel, we were informed you needed a ride out of here, correct?” His words were devoid of all emotion to the point of being unnatural.

  Jon cut in and answered for Bag. “Yeah, sure. You got enough room in those for all three tanks AND our men?”

  The Sailor responded without hesitation. “Room will not be an issue for you. According to my roster, you are missing several members of your platoon, as well as the operators for all three of your vehicles. We will need to do a full roll call and have everyone present before we can proceed.”

  Matt snorted a laugh, and asked suspiciously, “How do you expect to carry our tanks, just out of curiosity?”

  The soldier ignored the question all together as Cholius stared intensely at him and protested. “Would that roll call include defiling the body of my dead team member by pulling him out of his body bag?” Cholius was all fired up, but for good reason.

  The soldier answered without an ounce of emotion. “It is only protocol, Sergeant Major, I assure you.”

  “Who’s protocol?” Cholius snapped back.

  The soldier stared back blankly. “The U
nited States Navy’s protocol.”

  Willits crinkled her brow, confused by the sailor’s answer. “I was in fleet medevac, and there is not a single code or policy anywhere in the Navy, or even special operations WHICH I worked with, that requires you to take a deceased member out of their body bag…or to have every member of squad form up before you extract them from an obviously dangerous area.”

  Her words shut down the entire conversation, and there was a long and tense moment of silence as both groups of soldiers stared at each other. Jon started laughing hysterically though, then nodded over to the lead sailor. “Hey swabby, what’s your name?”

  The sailor answered robotically. “Petty Officer First Class John Smith.”

  Jon burst out laughing again, and began to occasionally gasp for air as he continued. Krieger passed each other confused glances, but the Sailors all stood stone faced. “Is my name funny, Colonel?”

  Jon began to settle down from laughing for a moment. “No, there is nothing AT ALL funny about the Navy… But I have a joke for you. What’s the first thing that happens in a football game?”

  Jon turned and winked slyly at Bag, who sighed dramatically loud and tried to play along. Jon was up to something. “Jon really…not this joke again.”

  Jon smiled back at Bag. “It’ll be funny…just wait.” Then turned back to the sailor and imitated his robotic voice. “Ok, Petty Officer First Class John Smith, what’s the first thing that happens in a football game?”

  Smith stared at Jon peculiarly. “The coin toss.”

  Jon laughed and shook his head. “No, no, no! After that!”

  The platoon exchanged careful glances with each other and held their weapons a little closer, as the sailors began to visibly tense up. Smith stared at Jon, and hesitantly responded. “The kick off?”

  Jon burst out laughing again, and then abruptly stopped and sneered. “Exactly!” He pulled two live flash bang grenades from behind his back, and tossed them directly behind the line of sailors. The platoon all began to turn and attempted to cover their eyes and ears, as the grenades exploded in a blinding and deafening blast. The platoon and the Navy hostiles stumbled around dazed, but began to take pot shots at each other as they moved around to take cover. The bulk of the sailors rushed back onto their drop ships, and those that remained on the roof were quickly cut down by both the automatic fire of the platoon, and the now active guns of the ARVs.

  The drop ships quickly spun up their engines and began to lift off, just as Armor One and Two began firing round after round of 105mm into the open cargo bay of the first drop ship, which gained enough altitude to clear the roof and crash into an inferno on the road below.

  Armor Three spun up its chain gun and decimated the interior of the second drop ship, just before Ramirez and Wallace rushed straight up the ramp as it was attempting to leave the roof. One of the crew chiefs exited the cock pit to intercept them, but was gunned down almost instantly by the two, followed by Ramirez tossing an incendiary grenade straight into the now open cockpit door.

  Wallace and Ramirez ran headlong back toward the ramp and attempted to jump the ever increasing distance onto the garage roof. Just as they were taking the last few steps to the jump, Wallace was shot through the chest by another crew chief. Ramirez tried to grab ahold of him at the last moment, but Wallace fell unresponsively out of reach to the distant ground below. The incendiary detonated a moment later and fried the entire interior of the drop ship in a fiery explosion, sending it crashing into a nearby building.

  Ramirez had managed to grab ahold of the very edge of the concrete barrier, but was hanging on by the skin of his teeth. Kazowski and Hawkins rushed over and quickly pulled him back up to safety. They’d been returning from their patrol when they saw all the action go down, and luckily were right near Ramirez when he jumped. Hawkins laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Aren’t you glad we took our time coming back from our patrol? Right place at the right time.”

  Ramirez caught his breath and leaned hard against the railing. “I’ll never complain about you being late for watch again…” He smiled, but then his tone turned dreary. “Shit man…Wallace got wasted…”

  The third and final drop ship took off like a rocket, leaving a handful of their own sailors on the garage roof, all of which tried desperately to escape the counter-ambush, until the last remaining sailor placed his pistol against his head and took his own life. That’s dedication… The drop ship continued to ascend a great distance up above the skyline, until it suddenly went into a hover and turned back toward the garage.

  James watched it do exactly that. It was preparing for a gun run! He cried out in alarm. “EVERYONE! GET ON BOARD! WE ARE LEAVING NOW!”

  Bag rushed into Armor One, as Armor Two and Three quickly loaded the nearby platoon members, and sped off down the ramp to the bottom floor. “Alighten! Get this thing in gear already! Don’t forget to pick up Kazowski and those other two!” Bag shouted up to him.

  Alighten furiously tapped through the command console. “Working on it…” The ARV jolted across the roof, stopping a few feet away from Hawkins and the other two platoon members, who immediately dove in. Valor yelled out in distress a second later. “Shit! We got incoming missiles! ALIGHTEN, PUNCH IT!”

  Hawkins, Ramirez, and Kazowski tried desperately to strap into their seats, but the tank jumped forward at full speed and sent them rolling to the back of the troop bay. Thankfully the ramp had closed enough to stop them from falling out. Hawkins groaned loudly in pain and annoyance. “Damnit Alighten!”

  A massive and unrelenting barrage of missiles began to pound the top of the garage, which began to collapse in on itself just as Armor One was making its way down to the second floor. Alighten desperately tried to avoid the crumbling roof, and the now crumbling floor beneath them, but it was all coming down way too fast.

  Valor shouted to his driver. “Alighten! Keep going straight ahead! I’m going to blast the wall!”

  “Gotcha!”

  Valor began using every weapon the tank had to blast a hole directly through the concrete wall ahead of them. The ARV continued to accelerate as the hole became bigger…and bigger…and just big enough for them to jump through. Valor, Alighten, and the passengers all began to progressively scream louder and louder anticipation as the tank approached the opening, narrowly slammed through it, and went sailing down toward the grassy planter below. The garage collapsed in on itself in a massive fireball of rockets a moment later. Valor turned to the passengers, laughed, and breathed heavily in relief. “Haha! That’s right son! That’s right! Indestructible!”

  Alighten quickly threw the tank into full acceleration and rejoined with the other two ARVs who were now a good distance down the main road. Valor quickly brought up the rear camera however, and sighed loudly at the sight. “Yo Bag, the drop ship is moving in to follow us...”

  Bag sighed and patched himself into the local intercom. “Alright everyone, there is only one of them and three of us… So, here’s the plan. Everyone split up, and whoever gets followed by the ship, lead the ship straight over to the other two vehicles. Hit the bastard straight through the glass of their cockpit with everything you’ve got. Questions?”

  There was a long pause over the intercom, until Gaillard responded in skepticism. “Yes Sir, Armor Three here. Are you seriously suggesting we try to out run this thing long enough for that to work?”

  Conrad piped in immediately afterwards, equally as skeptical and also on the disrespectful side. “Yeah this is Armor Two…no offense Sir, but I don’t feel much like dying today. Can we get a new plan?”

  Bag grunted in frustration. “Look, they aren’t going to leave until ALL OF US are dead! So, we either die or we shoot it down! Make the plan happen! Bag Out.” He was blunt and harsh about it, but this wasn’t a debate. Why did everyone have to argue at times like this?

  Valor nodded, a little skeptical but it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing Bag had asked him to do. “You’re crazy, but hey I a
int complaining at this point.” Alighten laughed a little with him, but Bag was too focused on the drop ship.

  The three ARVs took off in opposite directions, with Armor One continuing on straight down the main road. The drop ship continued its rapid descent but hesitated for a moment, as it decided which unit to pursue. The ship accelerated rapidly forward right onto Armor One’s tail, which began to swerve wildly to avoid the incoming chain gun fire. A missile lock warning began to flash, just as Alighten banked hard to the right and took small side road where the drop ship couldn’t fit. The ship ascended directly up and moved over the top of the building.

  Bag keyed the intercom. “Alright, they’re on us! Everyone regroup on our position and be ready to fire!” They’d better be get there in time… They only had one chance before the pilots figured out what they were doing. Alighten turned back toward the main road, just as the drop ship flew down in front of them, blocking their path.

  “FUCK!” Alighten threw it in reverse, and Valor began firing wildly with the 105mm, the chain gun, and every rocket he had. The drop ship rolled hard to its left from the repeated impacts of the ordnance, and thankfully miss fired most of its own missiles, but enough managed to explode nearby to severely cripple the tank. The drop ship ascended rapidly away to avoid the rest of the oncoming fire.

  Armor One rocked heavily from the bombardment, lost all power, and quickly filled with smoke, arching and sparking, and fire. The occupants coughed and gasped for air as they searched for the emergency release switch. Valor fought through the crowd and the painfully blinding smoke, and jettisoned the back ramp not a moment too soon. He knew his tank inside and out, even without his eye sight.