December 2, 1990
Action Force Command, Belgium
Seated in his office, The Commander was finishing reading a report from Special Weapons Force on a test-flight of the American-built V-22 tilt-rotor aircraft they’d acquired for evaluation when he noticed the BBC Six O’clock News was starting on the TV set in the corner. The Commander turned the volume up and put aside the report from the test-pilot code-named ‘Brains’.
“Today’s headlines: The terrorist organisation Cobra has invaded the Central African Commonwealth; thousands flee as Cobra forces march on the capital. President Kowombe has been evacuated to Kampala in Uganda.”
The Commander swore under his breath, muted the TV set and grabbed his phone, dialling a three-digit number.
“Van Berg,” replied a Dutch accented voice.
“It’s the Commander,” the British general replied. “What the hell’s going on in Africa and why hasn’t my unit been alerted?”
“Calm down, Commander,” Van Berg answered as the picture on the TV screen switched to show a convoy of Cobra vehicles, including several HISS tanks, STUNs and trucks speeding along a highway, before cutting to another clip, this one showing two Rattlers screaming low over a city before something on the ground exploded.
“Calm down?” The Commander asked incredulously.
“Yes. Calm. Down.” Van Berg paused before continuing. “This all kicked off about four thirty local time. The Commonwealth’s state broadcaster just launched their third channel, an all-news one like CNN. They were doing a report from St. Michaels near the Sudanese border when they were interrupted by a Cobra armoured column speeding through. Not long after that, reports came in from Peterton and Nicholasboro, the other two main border towns. Fifteen minutes after the initial reports, a pair of Rattlers destroyed the main TV transmitter in Saint Sebastian, the capital. Commonwealth News switched to a back-up and continued reporting as the local air force scrambled their Hawk fighters and F-5 Tigers. Cobra’s Firebats and Rattlers tore them apart. President Kowombe was evacuated by the order of the Chief of the Defence Staff at five pm, local, when it became obvious they were losing. His plane was escorted to Uganda, but they lost four of their six escorts to Cobra. The President was on the phone to NATO at the time. We’re still trying to make sense of it all. The Natangan TV network picked up the story and is re-running it. From what we’ve got out of the BBC, their local correspondent in Natanga picked up on the story and got the NTB to share the footage from the Commonwealth.”
“Did Kowombe ask for intervention?” The Commander asked.
“No, he didn’t. He demanded Action Force quote, ‘crush Cobra and destroy their forces,’ unquote. We’ve heard from one of our contacts at the UN. The Commonwealth Ambassador is calling for an emergency session of the Security Council.”
“Let me talk to my force commanders. We’ll get moving.”
Before General Van Berg could answer, The Commander hung up the phone then picked it up and dialled a new number.
Action Force Operations Base
Birmingham, England
Skip answered the phone before the second ring. “Yes?”
Eagle looked around at his Z Force counterpart as he continued listening with half an ear to the briefing he was being given.
“Yes, sir, Z Force and SAS Force are ready to deploy sir. We’ll get moving, right away,” the Scottish officer replied to whoever was on the phone.
Skip hung up and turned back to Eagle. “The Commander wants us moving as fast as we can to the CAC and a plan to kick them out.”
“Right,” Eagle said, his posher accent contrasting with Skip’s Scots voice. “I’ll get my boys moving.”
December 5th, 1990
Natanga Military Airfield #6
In the space of three days, a combat engineer force assigned to Action Force from the Spanish Army had transformed a dirt-strip base with a runway of only 1,500 feet in length into a two-runway field with a large mass-parking ramp and extensive fuel and weapons storage areas. The airfield had quadrupled in size and the advance team had removed the only permanent Natangan military presence, twelve sentries who’d been found literally sitting with their feet up when the team arrived.
Transport planes were constantly using the now-six thousand feet long runways to deliver supplies and equipment as Action Force continued to fortify their forward base, which the Natangan government had allowed them to use.
The base was now defended by four American-made air defence radar units, which had hypersonic long-range SAMs attached to them, as well as 10 SAS Force Mobile Missile Systems for medium-range SAM coverage and 20 Z Force Whirlwind towed anti-air artillery units for short-range cover. The SAM units and the radars had been tied together in a cutting-edge network operated by Jammer, one of Z Force’s computer specialists and Scorpion, one of their air defence specialists from a pre-fabricated command centre, which was also providing air traffic control thanks to a team of Space Force specialists.
As well as the transports flying in and out, the base was now home to a dozen SAS Force Hawk light attack/scout helicopters, a complete squadron each of Z Force’s Dragonfly attack helicopters and Tomahawk medium-lift helicopters and eight of their Trojan heavy-lift helicopters. Space Force’s fighter jets were staging from a Natangan Air Force base nearer the capital with properly paved runways. The rest of the equipment at the forward base was an armoured battle force of nearly seventy vehicles that was the equal of several nearby nations’ firepower.
In an open-sided tent being used as the ops room, Quarrel – Z Force’s Swiss Intelligence specialist – was briefing several of the senior operatives.
“This is the latest intel we have as of ten minutes ago,” Quarrel began. “Our principal sources are the four UAVs provided by Special Weapons Force.”
Quarrel gestured toward another part of the tent where Lightning, one of SWF’s resident geniuses was sitting at a desk with four PCs on the top.
“The recon drones were deployed overnight and have been gathering intel for us for the last two hours. Our second source of intel is the Commonwealth Army. We’ve managed to make secure contact with the Chief of the Defence Staff who is at large in the country, commanding what forces he has left in armed resistance.”
“I thought the CDS left the country with the President and the two defence ministers,” put in Sergeant-Major Zero, the senior NCO in Z Force, who was standing at the table next to Skip and Peregrine, the Dragonfly squadron leader.
Quarrel shook her head, “No, that was his deputy. The government in exile in Kampala consists of the President, the PM, the defence minister and his deputy, the foreign minister, the deputy CDS and the Commonwealth ambassador to Uganda.”
Skip cut in. “So, what are we facing?”
Quarrel looked at him. “Nearly four hundred Cobra vehicles, as well as over a hundred and fifty aircraft.”
There was a pause as the personnel present took in that news.
“The situation as it stands is this: Cobra occupies most of the north and west of the country. Their assault was fast and deadly. Air support including FANG and Mamba helicopters with Trouble Bubble Flight Pods decimated most of the Commonwealth’s armoured and artillery units. Fighter support, including two complete Firebat squadrons savaged the local air force, which was made up of British Hawk jets and American F5Es. Cobra has a squadron each of Condor bombers and Hurricane attack jets as well as two squadrons of Rattlers for close support. The main thing we need to address is the use of ballistic surface-to-surface missiles by Cobra.”
Quarrel picked up several photos and slapped them down on the map that dominated the table the briefing was taking place at.
“Twenty Imps and twenty Adders at four separate sites, each defended by six ASP batteries and accompanying Stingers.”
She placed another set of photos down, like the others these were black and white aerial shots. They showed several buildings ruined by explosions.
“They’re indiscriminately firing rockets into the major cities, including the capital Saint Sebastian,” Quarrel went on. “These are nothing more than acts of terror, to put fear into the local populace. Local intelligence puts the death toll in the thousands. We’ve identified the launch sites as you can see, but hitting them won’t be easy if we intend to minimise collateral damage.”
Of the four launch sites, Skip, Eagle and Space Force commander Sky Raider could see from the photos that three were positioned in built-up areas. The fourth was in an area of open ground.
“My Skystrikers can take care of that site,” Sky Raider said, tapping the photo of the open site. “We can use our Rockeyes to take them out without any trouble.”
The man standing next to Sky Raider spoke up, “My team can handle one of the targets, sir.”
Eagle frowned at the Space Force member before saying, “Sorry, you’re new aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”
The other man saluted. “Code-name Thrust, Colonel. I’m the squad-leader for the jetpack troopers.”
“Oh, yeah, Chuck mentioned you guys. The ones who can fly around like King of the Rocket-Men.” Eagle returned Thrust’s salute.
“More or less, sir, more or less…” Thrust looked at his commanding officer, “My team can hit one of the sites. Give us a transport to get us within 30 miles of the target and we’ll take it out.”
Sky Raider mulled it over. “Fine. If you can’t pull it off, we’ll figure something else out.”
Standing next to Eagle, Quickfire spoke up next. “My commandos can handle one or even both of the other sites,” the German said. “Depending on whether you wanted them wiped out simultaneously.”
“Let’s take them out over two nights,” Eagle replied. “The jetpack guys can hit one and you hit the other in one night. The Skystrikers can hit the third and Captain Bulldog’ team can hit the last one. If either mission goes wrong the first night, we hit them a second time the next night.”
“You can count on us to handle it,” Bulldog put in. He was another British officer, a former member of 2 Para who led the SAS Force’s new airborne spearhead team.
“So, that’s the ballistic missiles dealt with,” Skip said. “What else have you got, Quarrel?”
“The recon drones haven’t found the Cobra airfields yet.” Quarrel glanced at a digital clock attached to one of the tent poles across from her. “Captain Bloodhound’s advanced recon team was deployed an hour ago by a Hercules transport. They’re not due to report in for another two hours. We think the aircraft are being concealed in the countryside where we haven’t been looking, since so many of them are vertical take-off capable. The Condors and Firebats may even be operating from inside Sudanese territory. Bloodhound’s team is searching a possible location of one base. Lieutenant Orion’s Paratroop squad have been deployed as well, but we don’t expect them to report for several hours yet.”
“Wait, what?” Eagle said. “I didn’t know Orion’s team had been deployed.”
Skip sighed, “I ordered them deployed to check on a possible Cobra supply dump that the Commonwealth Army reported to us. I acted under my authority as Z Force commander to deploy my assets to carry out a time-critical mission.”
Eagle held his hands up in a placating manner, “Okay, fine. I just thought we agreed we’d tell each other when we sent units out.”
“We did. I didn’t tell you yet, which I should have. I’m sorry.” Skip turned back to Quarrel. “Carry on, agent.”
“Yes, sir. The Cobra ground forces are deployed across a large swath of the country, mostly in the towns and cities. Even with air superiority or even air dominance, if we’re to minimise civilian casualties and property damage, we’re going to have to move in ground units,” Quarrel explained.
“Then it’s important we establish air dominance,” Sky Raider said. “Find us those airfields and we can start bombing them.”
“Or we can go in and frag the aircraft,” Eagle said.
“Either way, we need to find those aircraft,” Sky Raider said. “In the meantime, let’s start planning these raids on the ballistic missile sites.”
December 6th 1990, 01:00 local time
Somewhere over the Commonwealth
The C130 Hercules transport plane was flying at its maximum altitude, as the four members of Space Force’s jetpack squad got ready to execute their mission. Each of the squad wore a special outfit which had an all-in-one helmet and torso to protect their bodies during the flight, from friction and from bullets up to 20mm calibre, and with more flexible sleeves and legs to protect them, but also allowing them to move around on the ground. Large shin-length boots protected their feet, whilst gauntlets that neared their elbows protected their hands and arms. On their backs was the business end of the outfit, the twin jet engine Single Man Aerial Unit, more simply known as the jetpack. The twin engines produced over 250lb of thrust with a top speed of 200 mph. Controls built into the gauntlets allowed the wearer to steer and activate the engines, with steering partly managed by the use of thrust-vectoring exhaust nozzles. The soldiers’ only weapons were compact sub-machine guns strapped to the armoured torso like a HALO jumper. The suits also incorporated an oxygen rebreather system to allow them to breathe normally at high speed and altitude and a holographic heads-up system on the visor. The set-up was a prototype system, as was the entire outfit, created by Action Force’s brain trust in Special Weapons Force.
The loadmaster lowered the C130’s rear ramp and gave them a good luck thumbs up before they moved to the ramp. The green light came on and Thrust stepped off the ramp and into freefall. Velocity, the Russian member of the team dived off like a swimmer on a board. The Canadian member of the group, Ballistic, jumped off the ramp. The final team member, Ramjet, leaped into the air, twisted, waved to the loadmaster and fell away.
The four team-members plunged through the air in freefall, arms and legs tight at their sides.
As they fell through the sky, the holographic HUD displayed their altitude, which was winding down at high speed. As the soldiers neared 10,000 feet above ground, they activated the jet engines with a double-tap of one of the buttons on their gauntlets.
The engines span up and fired off, pushing them earthward even faster, before they used a combination of vectored thrust and twisting their bodies to level off at 7,000 feet. A controlled descent to 1,000 feet followed.
The group sped through the night sky toward the town of Barbaraton like a group of missiles. The Cobra missile site’s air search radar was picking them up intermittently, but the Vipers manning the radar unit couldn’t decide what the returns were and didn’t report them.
The jetpack squad circled Barbaraton, descending as they did to below rooftop level. They sped through the town toward a large shopping centre at the edge of the town, dropping to a mere ten feet off the ground.
A hundred yards from the shopping centre, Thrust steered his suit in to land and cut the engines a foot above the ground, he hit the ground and staggered as he did, but stayed on his feet. Velocity landed next to him and hopped around as he tried to stay up right. Ballistic touched down and fell to his knees.
Ramjet flew over the other three soldiers, still two feet off the ground, cut his engines and dropped into a three-point landing, on his left foot, right knee and right hand, with his left arm thrown out behind him.
After a pause, he straightened up and turned to see the others pointedly ignoring him as they unslung their weapons and checked them. Ramjet swore under his breath, after the first twice of him landing in such a fashion during flight training, the rest of the squad had got tired of it.