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« on: May 23, 2011, 10:45:01 AM »
1990
Somewhere off the Kola Peninsula
It had taken several weeks for the freighter to cross the Atlantic Ocean, pass through the English Channel, cross the North Sea and make it’s way around the Scandinavian Peninsula, but it was finally nearing its destination.
The captain was in the mess hall drinking a cup of coffee and reading a message from the owners when the intercom crackled to life and an urgent voice called out.
“Captain to the bridge! Urgent, Captain to the bridge!”
The captain set aside his mug and papers and dashed out the door, headed along the narrow passage and scrambled up the ladder to the bridge.
The first officer turned toward him as the captain dashed in.
“Our air-search radar is tracking several aircraft, sir. Bow lookout has them in sight.”
“What aircraft are they?” the Captain asked.
“Six helicopters and two fighters,” the first officer answered.
“They’re Cobra aircraft,” put in the crewman manning the radar station. Normally the station was used for tracking commercial aircraft in case of an accident.
The Captain turned toward the crewman. “How do you know that?”
The crewman turned toward him, causing the captain to flinch involuntarily; the sailor’s scars still provoked the reaction.
“Stands to reason,” the sailor answered. “We’re carrying classified cargo from Brazil to Russia. We’ve been shadowed on and off across the Atlantic by fighters. Since we entered European waters we’ve had at least two fighters trailing us at a distance until yesterday. Someone’s been keeping track of us. Now they’re not. I’d bet that someone was Action Force and now Cobra’s ready to strike.”
The captain frowned, it made sense, but, “How do you know all this?”
“About Cobra and Action Force trailing us?” the radar operator asked. “Simple, I was in Q Force, the naval arm of Action Force.”
“I thought you were in the Royal Navy,” the first mate said.
“I was. Radar operator for HMS Broadsword. I joined Q Force in 1985, and became a radar operator for their Swordfish craft. I was on an operation in the Middle East when I was injured and invalided out of Action Force,” the crewman replied. “I know how they operate and I know how Cobra works.”
The crewman limped toward the door out to the flying bridge, picking up a spare set of binoculars as he passed. The captain followed him out.
The radar operator scanned the sky through the binoculars until he spotted the aircraft.
“There they are,” he muttered. He focused the binoculars as the captain sought to spot them.
“Two Cobra Rattlers and a pair of Mambas,” the radar operator said, as he identified them. “Looks like four troop carriers behind.”
The captain spotted the aircraft. “Fighter jets,” he moaned.
“That’s the Rattlers,” the radar operator told him. “Anti-tank jets with a big-ass multi-barrel cannon on the nose. They’re also carrying air-to-surface missiles. The leading helicopters are Mambas. They carry 9mm machine guns and anti-tank missiles.”
As the captain watched, the radio inside the main bridge crackled to life.
“Attention, MS Stellar Eclipse, this is Cobra. You will heave-to and prepare to be boarded or we will open fire.”
The captain headed back inside, the radar operator following.
Before they could do or say anything, a flash of light crossing the sky caught their attention. All four men on the bridge turned to see one of the Rattlers explode, its wreckage plunging into the sea, still burning.
A second flash of light crossed the sky and blotted the other Rattler from the sky, before a third struck and destroyed one of the Mamba helicopters.
The radar operator and captain raised their binoculars to see the second Mamba and the troop carrying helicopters turn and speed away.
Seconds later, four fighter jets screamed over the freighter at low level.
The radio crackled once more. “Attention, Stellar Eclipse. This is Space Force Peregrine flight, do not heave to. We will trail the Cobra aircraft back to the Soviet coast. Continue on your current course and speed.”
The captain picked up the radio handset and acknowledged the message as one of the four fighters broke off and circled the freighter twice.
The captain raised his binoculars to watch as it flew around before heading off. Large orange lightning blots were visible on the right forward swept wing and on the twin rudders.
“What are they?” he muttered.
“Conquest X-30s from Action Force’s aerospace arm,” the radar operator replied. “American jets that were leased by Action Force to replace their Skystrikers. One of the most advanced jets ever built.”
The captain turned to the crewman. “I’m glad I took you on, now.”
High overhead, Afterburner brought her Conquest back into formation with the other three X-30s.
“Peregrine Lead, this is Three. The Eclipse looks undamaged, looks like we timed that just right, over.”
“Roger that, three,” replied the American accented voice of Hornet, the flight leader. “Shar already radioed the Soviet air force. They should have MiG-29s in the air shortly to intercept the Cobras once they cross the coast, over.”
“Outstanding news, Lead, over.”
“We’ll maintain our trail of them until the MiGs intercept. Make sure you have your IFF on and set to broadcast our Space Force ID code.”
Afterburner glanced down to check her Identification Friend or Foe beacon was set correctly and turned on.
“Set and broadcasting, Lead.”
It didn’t take long for the four Soviet fighters to arrive and escort the Cobra helicopters to a Russian base, allowing the Conquest X-30s to fly back toward Norway and refuel from a tanker before landing back at a Norwegian air base.
Talazhskiy Airport, Russia
Two days later
Skip stood off to one side as the Action Force unit went about their business of unloading the vehicles. The airport was a civilian one, but had been temporarily turned into a military field by the arrival of a joint SAS Force and Z Force group.
The Soviets would’ve preferred their own army to provide security for the transhipment of the spent nuclear fuel rods from the port to the reprocessing centre at Mayak, but the fact was, with the ongoing collapse of Communism, there had been a rise of corruption within the Red Army and equipment, ranging from uniforms, radios and tools up to armoured vehicles, had been sold on the black market. No one wanted nuclear fuel rods to end up that way. Nor had the vaunted Oktober Guard been up to the job after losing four of its six members in a mission in Sierra Gordo. The two survivors had been joined by two new members, but they wouldn’t be able to fight off a determined Cobra attack.
So, reluctantly, the Soviets had allowed an Action Force unit to provide the security force. It had been very conditional agreement: No fighter jets. Only four attack helicopters and one transport. No heavy tanks. Only sixty personnel.
As Skip watched, fifty of that number was unloading the vehicles. Two mechanics were busily returning the rotors of the two SAS Force Hawks to their usual position from the folded-up transport configuration. Two SAS Force Attack Troopers were carrying over a box containing four of the Hawks’ rockets to arm one, whilst Chopper and Blades were busy feeding ammo-belts into the nose turrets of both Hawks.
Two more mechanics were fussing over the Dragonfly helicopters, detaching the fuel tanks that had been attached to their weapons wings to increase their range and allow them to fly from Poland. The two pilots were wheeling over a trolley holding anti-tank missiles and air-to-air missiles to arm them. Redline was loading ammo into the gun mounted on the SAS Force recon buggy, whilst Throttle, the vehicle’s driver, was trying to fix a problem with its radio. Rev and Quickfire were loading the gun turret on the Panther jeep. Boonie and Bodycount were manhandling the missiles from a crate to arm the Puma Air-Defence Jeep.
Eagle and Jammer were conversing with Thunderbolt, the Zimbabwean-born ATC driver. From what Skip could hear, there was a problem with the troop carrier’s radio system.
Ton-Up and Swerve were trying to fix a broken track-link on one of the Z Force Armadillo mini-tanks.
Joyride and Digger were fitting the machine gun to one of the Z Force jeeps, whilst Wheels and Scout did the same to the other.
The other SAS Attack Troopers were assisting Evac, Tex and Rappel to remove the fuel tanks from the Tomahawk’s wings and to install it’s laser-guided missiles and to load both the 20mm chin gun and the 7.62mm door gun.
As Skip watched, a Soviet UAZ jeep sped across the tarmac and pulled up. Sitting in it were the four Oktober Guard members. Lt. Gorky walked toward him. A lean man, with blonde hair, Gorky wore a grey uniform and a black beret.
“Colonel Skip, a pleasure to meet you.” Gorky saluted and then stuck out his hand.
Skip returned the salute before shaking hands. “Nice ta meet you,” Skip answered in his Scots accent.
Daina and Sgt Misha wandered over to where the Puma was parked as Gorky and Skip began talking.
“How does Action Force have a Stinger jeep?” Misha asked as Bodycount stepped away from the vehicle making sure the missile wouldn’t fall off.
“I don’t know,” Daina answered. “It seems strange to me.”
Bodycount turned toward them, he wasn’t fluent in Russian, but had picked up enough to recognise the name of the jeep’s original version being used.
“Problem?” he asked in English.
“We wondered why you have a Cobra jeep,” Daina replied.
Bodycount smiled and the Czech sniper had to admit, he was good looking when he did smile.
“It’s a knock-off. We call it the Puma. An Action Force operator stole the plans from MARS a few years back and it was copied. After a legal wrangle, we now have a license from MARS to build our own modified version of the Stinger, which is this beauty,” Bodycount answered.
Daina self-consciously noticed he was staring at her.
“Speaking of beauty, when this mission’s over, how about I take you out for dinner, gorgeous?” Bodycount’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he flirted with Daina. To her shame, she felt embarrassed.
“I don’t know if that would be possible,” she replied, blushing slightly.
Bodycount’s smile broadened. “Well, I’ve got leave coming, I could always take it and take you to dinner if you can get a weekend pass.”
Daina forced herself not to smile. “I don’t even know your name,” she hedged.
“Codename’s Bodycount,” he answered.
“Ah, I’ve read your file,” she said before he could say anything else. “SAS Force Commando. Joined Action Force last year after serving with British SAS regiment.”
“I’ve got a file?” Bodycount asked.
“We have files on several Action Force soldiers and assorted Western special ops types. Admittedly, your file is rather thin.”
Bodycount frowned, “Glad to hear it.”
Before Daina could reply, Lt. Gorky called her name and she turned away, saw him waving her over and hurried across.
Boonie slapped Bodycount’s arm. “Hey, stop staring at her ass and help me finish up here,” he snapped in his New Zealand accent.
Bodycount glared at his comrade, but did as he was told.
Soon the vehicles were already and the soldiers assembled for a pep talk.
“Alright, you were all briefed before we left Britain,” Skip began. “You know what this is all about, so let’s not screw this up. We’ve got to impress the Oktober Guard after all. Mount up and let’s roll!”
As Daina watched the troops move to their respective vehicles, she noted that whilst the troopers were wearing largely unique outfits, they had uniform colours. All the SAS Force troopers wore grey, black and yellow on their uniforms, whilst the Z Force troops were clad in green, black and red. It seemed odd, compared to the unique outfits the Guard all wore.
The first Z Force jeep led off the convoy, with Wheels driving and Scout manning the machine gun, his metal detector leaning against his leg if he thought they were going to run into a minefield.
Behind them, Rev and Quickfire were in the Panther, Throttle and Bodycount followed in the Recon buggy trailed by Torque driving the HAVOC, with Mustang and Lock’n’Load.
Next came the Puma, driven by Redline, with Boonie. The ATC followed it, carrying Eagle, Skip, Kukri, Jammer and the Oktober Guard, with Thunderbolt driving. The two Armadillo mini-tanks came next, driven by Ton-Up and Swerve. Bringing up the rear was the second Z Force jeep; Joyride was at the wheel, with Triage the medic and Digger.
Once the convoy was moving, the two SAS Force Hawks and the Z Force helicopters lifted off. The Tomahawk then followed, carrying six SAS Force Attack Troopers.
The four attack helicopters settled into a pattern of orbits over the convoy as it moved through the city of Arkhangelsk, heading for the docks.
The convoy arrived at the docks to find four Soviet Army soldiers waiting for them with a Ural-4320 medium cargo truck.
Eagle and Lt. Gorky dismounted from the ATC and met the four soldiers. They reported that the ‘package’ was aboard the truck and they were ready to depart.
The convoy moved out, once more, with the Ural truck now positioned between the HAVOC and the Puma.
The convoy headed out of the city, joined the Russian motorway headed south and accelerated to a steady 60mph.
The journey was going to take over a day, since it was over nine hundred miles from Arkhangelsk to the Mayak nuclear reprocessing facility.
Five hours in to the journey, as afternoon shaded into evening, the convoy got a warning.
“This is Hatchet in Dragonfly 1, I’m picking up six aircraft on radar. They’re not broadcasting IFF beacons,” the American SAS Force attack trooper reported over the radio.
“Hatchet, this is Skip. Activate your tactical computer and see if it can identify the aircraft.”
“Already on it, Colonel.” Hatchet paused as the computer worked. “Damn, we’ve got four Mambas and two Rattlers closing in fast according to the computer.”
“All air units, this is Chopper, prepare to engage bandits. Dragonfly flight, engage the Rattlers first. Tomahawk, stand by. Blades, you’re with me,” the American helicopter pilot was all business as he gave his orders.
In Dragonfly 1, Whirl clicked on the intercom. “Arm the heat-seekers, keep the 40mil and 20mil guns warmed up,” he told his gunner, his Gloucestershire accent contrasting with the Americans’ accents.
“Roger that, Whirl.”
In the cockpit of Dragonfly 2, Peregrine had issued similar orders to her gunner, Tiger.
“I have a lock,” the German Attack Trooper told her. “Firing Sidewinder.”
Peregrine keyed her radio, “Dragonfly 2, Fox 2 with one.”
The Fox code was a warning to the other aircraft her helicopter was about to launch a heat-seeking missile.
The Sidewinder dropped from its launch rail and streaked toward the Rattler, which promptly broke off its approach and dove toward the ground, pumping out flares as it did.
The missile was thrown off and detonated harmlessly.
Hatchet launched his own Sidewinder at the other Rattler, which managed to avoid the missile. One of the Mambas wasn’t so lucky, the missile locking on to it and destroying the helicopter.
“Well, that was pure jam,” Whirl commented over the intercom.
“No kidding,” Hatchet answered. “Locking on to Rattler again.”
The ground-attack jet accelerated as it climbed back toward the Dragonfly.
The second Sidewinder destroyed the Rattler.
Chopper brought his Hawk into position behind the last Mamba in the formation, Blades in his Hawk close behind him. Both opened fire with their nose-mounted machine guns. The 30mm bullets punched through the Mamba’s engines, destroying it.
Tiger fired the second Sidewinder at the remaining Rattler, which evaded it again. The big anti-tank jet screamed toward the helicopter, the pilot firing the 20mm Gatling gun at it.
Peregrine slid the Dragonfly around, evading the gun burst, but keeping the attack helicopter’s nose toward the plane as it sped by.
Tiger fired off three shots from the 40mm gun in the chin turret, hitting the Rattler twice, even as the Viper in the plane’s gun turret tried to traverse and fire.
Something critical was hit in the Cobra jet; it began spewing black smoke and flames. Peregrine wasted no time bringing the helicopter around behind the jet and chasing it as it began slowing down and dropping toward the ground.
The Viper in the turret kept up a steady stream of fire at the helicopter every time Peregrine put the Dragonfly into a kill-shot position.
Tiger got annoyed quickly as he tried to line up the guns.
“Drop us back, on their port rear quarter,” he said over the intercom. “I’m switching to the 120mil gun.”
The large cannon on the helicopter’s left skid was only carrying 20 rounds, but Peregrine did as Tiger asked, sliding the helo into the port rear quarter. Tiger lined up the plane’s rear mounted engine in his sights and fired.
The 120mm shell punched straight through the engine pod, blowing it into scrap. He quickly switched to the 40mm cannon and fired two more shots into the left rudder, causing the attack fighter to go into a spin before plunging to the ground.
By the time the second Rattler crashed and exploded into burning wreckage, Blades and Chopper had double-teamed a second Mamba and destroyed it, whilst Hatchet had used his own helicopter’s 120mm cannon to destroy the last one.
Chopper ordered the other three attack helicopter pilots to report their fuel state as they regrouped. It was quickly clear that they were at ‘Joker’ fuel, the point where they would have to break off from the convoy and head to their designated refuelling airfield.
The Tomahawk, however, would be able to remain on station with the convoy, as it hadn’t expended as much fuel flying into battle.
Skip and Eagle agreed to the four attack helicopters leaving to refuel. The convoy continued on its way. They planned to drive for a few more hours yet.
Ten minutes later, Evac reported into the ATC.
“Colonel, I’m picking up a large group of vehicles heading for the convoy, cross country. Tactical computer says they’re HISS tanks, STUNs and Stingers.”
“No surprise that they come out of the woodwork when we’ve got barely any air cover,” Eagle commented.
“We copy, Evac. Remain over the convoy. Break. All vehicles, all vehicles, this is Skip. We have a Cobra ground force incoming, prepare for enemy action,” Skip transmitted over the radio.
“This is Evac, Cobra force is four Stingers, twelve STUNs and six HISS tanks. They’re approaching from the south-west at speed.”
“All vehicles, pull over, prepare for attack,” Skip ordered.
The convoy halted. The larger vehicles moved to screen the lorry carrying the nuclear fuel rods, whilst the jeeps and the Armadillos moved to the front.
As the Cobra force sped forward, the Stingers opened fire, volleying four of their surface-to-air missiles at the Tomahawk.
Evac fired off his flares and accelerated the helicopter into a steep climb away from them.
Two of the HISS tanks opened fire with their machine guns, trying to shoot the helicopter down, forcing Evac to pull back out of their range.
Unfortunately for the HISS tanks, it left them distracted and Kukri fired two of the ATC’s four anti-tank rockets, destroying them.
The next vehicle destroyed was a Stinger jeep, which Bodycount hit with his LAW anti-tank rocket, before getting back into the Recon Jeep and opening fire with the 40mm cannon. Three shells hit the ground in front of the convoy, before a fourth hit a STUN and shredded it.
The Cobra convoy split up at that point and began manoeuvring more as the other Action Force vehicles opened fire.
The Panther jeep sprayed 9mm bullets from its twin turret at one of the Stingers, the fusillade bounced of the jeep’s armour, before hitting its SAM rack. The explosion ripped the jeep in half.
The HAVOC’s big 75mm cannon opened up next, under Lock’n’Load’s control, shredding another of the HISS tanks. The Armadillos fired simultaneously; their 60mm cannon targeted the same STUN and destroyed it. The two Z Force jeeps laid down a pattern of fire, which one of the Stingers tried to evade, but which led it straight into Kukri’s sights, allowing the ATC’s 50mm cannon to blast the jeep into scrap.
Kukri launched the ATC’s remaining anti-tank rockets and picked off two more of the STUNs.
The HISS tanks fell back, trying to support the surviving STUNs, with heavy fire.
Mustang, seated in the cockpit of the HAVOC with Torque, armed the large assault vehicle’s Lancer missiles and volleyed off two of them. Both destroyed their target HISS tanks.
The Z Force jeeps hammered the single HISS left with cannon fire and destroyed it, their 100mm cannon punching through the armoured canopy with ease.
Bodycount killed the last of the Stingers with a lucky shot, which had been aimed at one of the STUNs, although he would never admit it.
The STUNs took two more losses, one to the Panther and one to the HAVOC’s guns, before the survivors fled the battle.
Skip relayed the order to let them go.
The soldiers dismounted from their vehicles to inspect them. Triage, the medic found Ton-Up had been hit by one lucky Viper, but the rounds had only hit his arm. She treated the Swede despite his protests.
Most of the damage to the vehicles was cosmetic, but the Puma had a damaged wheel whilst the Panther had a jam in its gun turret.
Chelyabinsk, Russia
Cobra’s secret headquarters
Anna Conda’s fist collided with Salamander’s jaw, spinning him around. He stumbled backwards, crashed into a chair and then hit the floor.
As she shook the pain out of her fist, she glowered down at her lieutenant.
“It was a probing attack,” she snarled. “It wasn’t meant to succeed! If our air assets and the ground force had succeeded, so much the better, but the attack was meant to test the AF unit’s capability and its strength. Now, knowing the level of equipment and the manpower that they have, we can formulate a better attack plan.”
Salamander, clutching his jaw, climbed to his feet. He looked cowed, Hades thought. As well he might. Anna Stromberg, now known as Commander Anna Conda, was not a woman to be trifled with.
Hades didn’t let his expression change, but he was beginning to tire of working for Cobra. He had a multinational company that worked in a variety of industries. He could easily retire. But, it wasn’t that simple. Argent Corporation had started life as a ‘security consultants’ business, mercenaries by another name, before branching out into other fields. As it had grown, Cobra had taken an interest in it. Now, it was a front for Cobra Europe; but one with enough legitimacy to cause Action Force a large headache and embarrassment when they’d raided an Argent Corporation oil-rig in the North Sea, only to find the Cobra troops on the rig were actually employees of Argent Corp.
Hades listened with half an ear as Anna Conda and her intelligence specialist, Reptile, discussed options.
Because Hades was getting fed up with Anna’s capricious nature and being forced to work for her, the former member of New Zealand’s SAS regiment had decided to undermine Cobra. Previously, he’d made an attempt to take control of Cobra Europe. At first he’d concealed his plans well enough, but Anna had caught on and it had cost him his left eye, lost in a vicious knife-fight.
His plan thwarted, Hades had bided his time and then begun anonymously leaking information to Action Force. Most recently, he’d planted a listening device in this very room and allowed the SAS Force undercover operative Deep Cover to learn of the device’s existence and operating frequency through a Viper who had acted as his patsy.
Salamander had now recovered enough to begin contributing to the conversation between Anna and her Bulgarian intelligence operative. Like Hades, the Russian was a mercenary. He’d joined Cobra after leaving Santalla in disgust when the rebels there joined forces with Baron Ironblood.
Salamander offered suggestions of where to site an ambush. Hades walked over to the map. He studied it briefly and then spoke.
“Site a Maggot battery there,” He said, pointing to a hill. “Drop a barrage on their lead elements, then drop a second on the tail. Then send in an assault force to seize the fuel rods.”
“What about their air cover?” Reptile asked.
Hades glared at him with his one good eye. “We’ve got enough Stingers and ASPs that they won’t be an issue.”
Action Force Safe House
Somewhere else in Chelyabinsk.
Deep Cover listened to the conversation between the Cobra Command staff. He didn’t know how the hell the Viper had done it, but this was prime intel. The listening device was passing the audio with enough clarity that it was like the former Secret Intelligence Service officer was in the same room.
Once Deep Cover passed this on, Action Force could easily evade the ambush. He just needed to know where this ambush would take place. He could even have the Soviet Army provide Action Force with assistance, since his current cover was as a GRU Major who liased with the reduced Oktober Guard.
As the conversation wound down, Deep Cover looked over his notes; he’d positively confirmed Anna Conda, formerly known as Anna von Stromberg, was meeting with Hades, formerly known as Major Sebastian Blaine, Salamander, name unknown, Reptile, name unknown and had conspired to attack the Action Force convoy.
Time to get out a warning message, he decided.
Several hours later
Somewhere deep in the Russian countryside.
The Action Force convoy had travelled over a hundred miles before leaving the highway and pulling into a small little-used country lane. The Tomahawk had dropped off the SAS Force Attack Trooper squad, before heading for a Russian airfield with the attack helicopters. Night had fallen and the convoy was laying up for the night. Most of the troops were asleep. Four of the Attack Troopers were maintaining a sentry patrol around the vehicles.
Bodycount woke up with a start. He glanced around. Frowning, he wondered what had awoken him. He sat up, grabbed his backpack and pulled out his monocular night-vision sight. Once he’d put it on, he picked up his Uzi and stood up, looking around.
A hand clapped him on the shoulder and he whirled, snapping up the Israeli sub-machine gun, before it was batted aside. Cat’s Eye stood next to him.
Frowning behind the NVG, Bodycount whispered, “Where the hell did you come from?”
“We were on our way to meet you and Bloodhound thought he spotted a Cobra HISS II. He sent me on to warn you guys. He’s taken the rest of the squad to check it out,” the other man answered.
Cat’s Eye was a night-assault specialist in a special sub-group of SAS Force. Led by Captain Bloodhound, the group had been secretly pre-deployed to Russia to recon the route.
“So what are you doing sneaking about? I thought you were a Cobra!” Bodycount hissed.
“There’s Night-Vipers and blue-shirts with NVGs around,” Cat’s Eye answered. “They already got Knight.”
Bodycount swore. Cat’s Eye was wearing his own night-vision goggles, and kept sweeping the area, looking for the Night-Vipers.
“Follow me,” Cat’s Eye said. “Don’t wake anyone else up, we don’t need more people blundering about.”
The pair moved off, moving quietly and carefully, scanning around with their light-enhancing NV gear.
After a few minutes, the pair of SAS Force troopers spotted four Night Vipers moving toward the convoy. Each wore a special composite suit which was supposed to reduce their IR and radar signatures. It did nothing however, to make them invisible to enhanced starlight. Each carried a rifle with a passive night-sight as well.
As Cat’s Eye and Bodycount approached from the Cobras back, Cat’s Eye raised his specially modified rifle; its flash suppressor would prevent him being blinded by his own gun firing.
The pair halted and the night-assault specialist fired four short bursts, cutting down the Night-Vipers before they could react.
The two SAS Force troopers moved out. They quickly ran into a group of three ‘blue-shirts’, Cobra’s basic foot soldiers, equipped with less flashy NVGs compared to the Night-Vipers’ gear.
Bodycount shot all three. By this point, the Action Force convoy was alerted. The gunfire had woken up more of the soldiers, but they were staying close to their vehicles.
Cat’s Eye spotted a pair of blue-shirts further off. He switched his rifle over to single-shot and took aim with his rifle’s telescopic sight. The two troopers fell without knowing who’d hit them.
Somewhere off to the south of the convoy, automatic weapons fire was heard in a series of short bursts.
Cat’s Eye and Bodycount exchanged glances before running in that direction. They soon found Fenris and Reaper, two of the other Attack Troopers, standing over the corpses of a group of six Night-Vipers.
“What happened?” Cat’s Eye asked.
“We spotted them trying to creep up on the convoy,” Reaper replied. “We tailed them, but one spotted us. We took them out before he could warn the rest.”
“Nice one,” Bodycount said to the Dutch commando.
“Follow us,” Cat’s Eye said.
The group made their way back to the convoy. Not long after they arrived, Bloodhound’s SAS Force Land Rover pulled up.
“Sir, we’ve just engaged and destroyed a HISS II,” Bloodhound reported to Eagle. “It was accompanied by a lorry which we believe may have dropped off some troops.”
Eagle looked around toward Cat’s Eye and Bodycount. “Yes, we’ve heard some gunfire.”
Cat’s Eye stepped forward. “Bodycount and I neutralised nine Cobras. Four Night-Vipers and five blue shirts. Reaper and Fenris took out another group of four Night-Vipers. I also neutralised a Night-Viper and a blue shirt who killed Knight.”
Gorky walked over as Eagle and Skip began conferring.
“Who is this?” Gorky demanded, pointing at Bloodhound. “Where did these men come from?”
Eagle hid a dirty look from Gorky as the lieutenant turned back to the Land Rover.
“Captain Bloodhound is the leader of a special recon unit we deployed here to check out the route to Mayak,” Eagle answered. He indicated the other three men sitting in the Land Rover; “Wheel-spin is their driver, Night-Owl the radio operator and Vapour is the commando.”
Gorky began haranguing Eagle about this violation of the deployment agreement whilst Cat’s Eye walked over to Bloodhound and gave him a verbal report.
Bodycount stood listening to the bickering as Redline walked over.
“Politics, eh?” the jeep driver asked.
“Yeah,” Bodycount answered. “Just hope the Cobras aren’t around any more.”
Skip was apparently thinking along similar lines as he organised Lock’n’Load, Quickfire, Kukri and Boonie into a team to sweep around the perimeter of the encampment.
By the time Gorky finished haranguing Eagle, Bodycount had gone back to sleep and several of the other Action Force soldiers were trying to do the same. Quickfire’s team returned and reported no sign of any more Cobras.
Skip had the Attack Troopers redeploy to cover Knight’s absence, whilst also having Cat’s Eye stand watch on top of the ATC, with his NVGs in place.
The following morning the Action Force convoy formed up and headed out, moving back on to the Russian highway. Bloodhound’s team were now bringing up the rear in their Land Rover.
Half an hour after the convoy got moving the helicopters were back, flying their slowly drifting orbits overhead.
A few hours later, the convoy was moving down the Russian highway when Tiger in Dragonfly 2 radioed the column.
“I’m picking up faint radar signals south of us,” the German attack trooper reported. “Looks like some kind of range-finder type radar.”
“There shouldn’t be anything out here,” Gorky replied over the radio. “Are the signals airborne or ground-based?”
“Ground based,” Tiger reported.
“Then they must be Cobra, there should not be anything out this way emitting that type of signal.”
Eagle’s voice cut in, “Hawk 2, contact Dragonfly 2 for directional heading and investigate. All units stand ready.”
Moments later, Blades dropped the nose of his Hawk to pick up speed and raced south on a direct path to the radar signals.
He’d barely left when Hatchet suddenly announced he had four incoming missiles on his radar.
The remaining helicopters immediately popped flares and went evasive. One missile streaked past the flares Chopper had fired off and homed in on his Hawk’s exhaust plume.
The American dropped the helicopter into a nosedive, levelled out and then fired two of his missiles at the ground, creating a huge fireball that he flew his Hawk through.
The heat-seeking missile detonated as it tracked in on the fireball.
Peregrine and Tiger weren’t so lucky. The missile chasing them adjusted its course, avoided the flares and detonated three feet behind the Dragonfly’s tail-boom.
The loss of the helicopter’s NOTAR system sent it into a wild spin, which Peregrine fought to control. The Dragonfly dropped toward the ground, but the former RAF rescue pilot managed to pull the nose up, ensuring it hit the ground skids first. They were ripped off and it hit the ground and bounced twice before coming to a halt.
Peregrine scrambled free of her restraints and forced her way out of the wrecked canopy. Tiger was slumped over his dashboard the front of the cockpit. He was unconscious and bleeding from at least three major cuts that Peregrine could see.
She tried to cut the German loose, but a loud crackling noise drew her attention.
The helicopter was burning. Peregrine dragged Tiger from the cockpit, staggering to drag him away from the helicopter.
Something exploded in the helicopter and sent the pair flying.
As Peregrine came to, she saw a Cobra Rattler scream overhead. Trying to move Tiger off her, she realised he was a deadweight. The she saw the mess his back had become and knew why.
Above her, Whirl and Hatchet had evaded the missiles fired their way and were now juking and jinking across the sky in Dragonfly 1, as the Rattler chased them.
The Tomahawk had been forced to land, whilst Chopper was doing his damnedest to avoid the second Rattler.
Boonie had armed the Puma’s surface-to-air missiles as the convoy kept speeding along the highway. He then powered up the jeep’s small millimetre wave radar and locked on to the first Rattler.
The big anti-tank jet fired off its own flares and broke off trying to chase down Whirl’s Dragonfly. Boonie launched the first SAM.
The missile streaked across the sky, homed in on the Rattler and detonated. The explosion tore off the right wing, shredded the right-side engine and sent it into an unrecoverable dive that ended in a fireball in a Russian field.
As Boonie lined up his second shot, there was a brief howl and then three explosions ripped apart the road in front of the leading Z Force jeep.
Wheels threw the jeep into a skid to avoid the craters now decorating the road.
“INCOMING!” Scout screamed into his radio. “Artillery fire incoming! Get off the road!”
Rev had already slammed the Panther into a skidding turn and accelerated toward the fields at the side of the road. The recon jeep was close behind it.
A second barrage dropped behind the convoy’s tail end, narrowly missing the trailing Z Force jeep and Bloodhound’s Land Rover. Both were thrown into the air and crashed down on to the road.
The Armadillos were moving in unison, smashing into the fence on the northeast side of the road, with the lumbering ATC behind them.
The surviving Rattler screamed overhead as the Puma bounced off the road, slew to the left and halted next to the truck carrying the nuclear fuel rods.
Boonie locked on to the Rattler and fired off his second SAM, quickly followed by a third.
The ATC halted a few dozen metres from the road and Kukri, Jammer and Skip leaped from the rear to sprint toward the road and the wreckage of the two jeeps.
The Rattler was destroyed above and behind them as a third artillery barrage dropped onto the road.
As the three soldiers reached the wrecked vehicles, Cougar, Lobo and Fantasma sprinted up. The three SAS Force attack troopers began dragging the wounded clear of the wreckage.
Joyride and Digger were unconscious. Triage was awake, but badly injured, a large gash decorating her face.
Dragonfly 1 screamed overhead as it joined with Hawk 1 and the pair of helicopters raced south.
As Jammer tried to tend to Vapour’s injuries, Jammer’s radio crackled. “Hawk 1 to ground units, we’re heading south to back up Hawk 2.”
No one acknowledged the message as they tried to help the injured.
Eight HISS II tanks crested the hill down the road from the now-scattered Action Force vehicles.
The rear of the tanks opened and four Cobra Vipers climbed out of each.
Quickfire and Bodycount wasted no time; both lined up their jeeps’ respective guns and opened fire. Quickfire’s burst from the Panther’s 9mm guns tore apart two of the Vipers as the second pair dived for cover behind the HISS II. Bodycount’s shot from the recon jeep’s 40mm cannon hit the canopy of the HISS II and blew it off, killing the Track-Viper inside.
The remaining Vipers began to open fire, followed swiftly by the guns of the HISS II tanks’ triple-barrelled cannon.
The Action Force vehicles began moving to evade the Cobra force’s fire, whilst firing back. One of the HISS II tanks fired a side-mounted missile at the HAVOC, but Lock’n’Load opened fire with the 75mm cannon. The shells detonated and threw the missile’s onboard seeker head out of whack, causing it to explode harmlessly.
The tank itself wasn’t so lucky when three 75mm shells hit it seconds later.
One the other side of the road, Gorky and the other Oktober Guard troops were hanging from the rear rails of the two Armadillos as the mini tanks sped across the road and charged the Cobras.
A barrage of fire from the HISS II tanks hit the Z Force HAVOC, destroying it. Mustang, Lock’n’Load and Torque were killed outright.
As the Armadillos opened fire, four Su-25 Frogfoot fighter-bombers dived out of the clouds overhead and fired a barrage of anti-tank missiles.
The HISS II tanks and the Vipers were wiped out in an instant. As the Sukhoi jets pulled out of their attack run, Skip’s radio crackled to life.
“Action Force, this is Molot flight leader. A Red Army unit is en route to provide support and evac your wounded. Agent Grey sends his regards.”
Skip acknowledged the message as Eagle trotted over.
“You hear that, too?” Skip asked. The SAS leader nodded.
“Sounds like Deep Cover came through for us in a pinch.”
The two Hawks and Dragonfly 1 returned moments later, landing near the bloody aftermath of the battle. Blades approached Eagle and Skip.
“We found a Maggot artillery battery about ten miles south of here. They were guarded by a pair of Stingers, a pair of ASPs and a HISS tank,” the helicopter pilot reported. “We made short work of them.”
Before either officer could reply, a pair of MiL-8 Hip helicopters roared over, circled around and dropped to the ground. Lt. Gorky moved in that direction as the doors were thrown open and Spetsnaz troops dismounted from them.
Over the next few minutes, the soldiers moved Wheel-Spin, Joyride, Vapour and Night-Owl to the first of the Hips, which lifted off and headed for a nearby town. The second Hip lifted off soon after, carrying Digger, Cat’s Eye and Bloodhound.
The SAS recon jeep found Peregrine and brought her back to the remains of the convoy, sitting in the seat next to Throttle, whilst Bodycount rode on the running board.
The SAS attack troopers were working under Evac and Tex’s direction to repair the damage to the Tomahawk, whilst Triage tended to Rappel’s injuries.
As the convoy tried to form up, Bodycount found himself standing next to Daina.
“Nice country you got here,” he commented.
“It’s okay,” the woman answered. “I prefer it back home in Czechoslovakia, though.”
Bodycount looked surprised. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were Czech. I thought you were Russian.”
Daina shrugged. “Is no big deal,” she replied. “Happens a lot.”
She looked at him slightly shyly, “Maybe you make it up to me with dinner in Mayak, Da?”
“Da,” Bodycount answered. “You bet.”
Both soldiers headed back to their respective vehicles and the convoy headed out.
Chelyabinsk
Anna Conda’s headquarters
A wordless scream of rage escaped Anna as she swept the maps, diagrams and other paperwork off the table in her anger.
Hades stood next to her as she let out another scream. No one else was in the room.
“It seems to me,” Anna said between deep breathes to control her temper, “We have a mole in our organisation. How else could Action Force have so quickly got a Soviet Air Force unit to attack our HISS II group and got them Spetsnaz back up?”
Hades didn’t answer. Did Anna suspect?
“I want you to head up the mole hunt. There’s no else I trust to do it.”
Hades nodded. The Action Force convoy had reached Mayak a little over two hours earlier. Following the failed attack by the Maggot battery and the HISS II group, Cobra had left the convoy unmolested.
Hades turned and left the room; glad his grey bandana across his mouth hid the smile he couldn’t suppress.
The End.
