"Medic!" the commander called.
"Yes, sir?
" "How are the pilots ?
" "Superficial wounds. Will they recover.
" "Can they walk?
" "Probably.
" "Soldiers! We're moving towards our target! Keep your eyes and ears open. We'll move in any formation. We're moving along the forest. Ride, boys!" the commander ordered.
They entered the forest shallowly and moved along the border towards the town of La Mila. Explosions
could be seen here and there in the distance. Gunfire was heard. Suddenly, the commander gestured for the unit to stop. He ordered them to lie down and watch the horizon. About a kilometer away, a fierce tank battle was raging. Shot for shot. The commander pointed to the artilleryman.
"Will you hit any enemy vehicle from here?" he asked
. "I think so, sir," he replied.
"Take up a defensive position," the unit commander ordered.
The soldiers lay down and searched for the enemy. The soldier with the anti-tank launcher prepared to fire. He aimed and, gently squeezing the trigger, fired a missile.
"Target hit. I repeat, Russian hit," he reported happily. "Repeat
the shot," the commander ordered.
The soldier aimed and fired another missile.
"T-72 destroyed," he reported. "
Sir! We're in trouble. We've been spotted, two patrols are moving towards us. About thirty men," one of his comrades said . "
Heavy machine guns! Fire a few bursts at them. "
Shots rang out. The enemy returned fire.
"We can't handle it, sir," one of the soldiers said. "Let's give
them hell. Load and fire the grenade launchers," the commander ordered
. The ground shook, but that didn't break the enemy. Bullets began to reach the soldiers.
"We have a wounded man. Oh, he's dead," the soldier reported
. "We're retreating," the commander ordered.
The tank battle was lost by American forces. Tank machine guns began firing at the unit in the forest. Only a handful of soldiers managed to retreat into the forest.
"Fine. Let's destroy them here. There'll probably be Russians on the other side too," one of them said.
"I don't want to die! "
A burst of Kalashnikov rifles roared overhead.
"Get down!
" Everyone threw themselves to the ground. They started shooting.
"I've got the bastard," Taylor said.
"Two down," his companion replied
. Suddenly, something fired from the left. Short bursts from some weapon other than an M-16 or Kalashnikov. The soldiers saw soldiers dressed in black, quite boldly entering the enemy fire. After a moment, the gunfire stopped. One of the soldiers in strange uniforms approached the remnants of the unit.
"You're with us now. I'm McCasey. I command the third special forces group. You're my soldiers now. We're leaving this forest, because more of them will be deployed here soon."
"A special forces unit?" Taylor asked incredulously.
The soldiers began to retreat. Taylor knew what was coming. War. He didn't like his affiliation with the special forces. He'd always considered them kamikazes at their worst. From a place where everyone was running away or trying to disappear, they just pushed in and did their thing. However, he liked the second point more. In such units, they had the best of the best. So he could feel at least a little safe.
The soldiers emerged from the forest and came across an American mechanized infantry brigade. They joined them. They drove to a pre-arranged assembly point, in case anything went wrong.
Evening fell. The soldiers in their barracks started talking.
"You know what? We don't even know each other's names yet. I'm Martin Taylor, just call me Martin
. I'm Mark Foul, my friends call me Bull
. My mom called me David McHigs. Call me by my first name."
"I'm Calisto, Frank Calisto. At school, they called me Thunder." They
began talking to each other, leaving only a handful of four people left from the fifteen-man unit. They didn't want to make any closer contact with the special forces soldiers. Night fell. They fell asleep. Only Taylor couldn't give himself over to dreams. He thought about his family, his loving wife and child. He wondered what would happen if he didn't come back. What if they killed him?"
Martin finally closed his eyes. The general atmosphere among the soldiers was pessimistic. After all, many of them had died. They didn't know how many Russian soldiers were here.
Meanwhile, the broadcast station on Everon had been repaired.
"All units, what's the situation?" a voice came over the radio.
"This is Base Alpha. We've been routed. We've fallen back to point Z.
" "The Eye of Frost mission begins at five." "
Understood.
Five o'clock." In the camp, all units were mobilized. Everyone gathered in the center of the base. McCasey stepped to the center and began speaking.
"We've received a signal from the base on Everon. I'm giving you orders now. Today we're taking Le Mile. We'll take it by assault. Your commanders have precise plans for where you're to be during the attack. That was the bad news. Now it's time for the good news. Today at seven o'clock, transports will bring us several armored units to the beach. The second and final piece of good news is that we'll have air cover during the assault. Today is our day, we have to. We'll win, or we'll die here! Disperse."
The commanders approached their units and began to announce their actions. McCall began to address his soldiers.
"I don't have good news for you. We're taking one open truck and heading to the Russian staging point. Our mission is to cause as much damage as possible. We're to create a minefield at the main gate. I and one of the commandos will take care of that. We need to destroy the fuel and ammunition depot. Taylor and his colleagues will handle that. The next thing is sniper cover. We have two, so we know who's going. The rest will support us in the entire operation. You'll be freelancers.
" "Sir. It's not a good idea to send us into the center of the Russian base," Taylor said. "
It's already decided. One more thing. You have to operate silently. That's why you'll be given an MP5 with a silencer, a knife, and timed bombs," the special forces commander replied. "Why
don't we attack at night?" Frank asked
. "Because there's no time. Let's get to it!" he replied.
They all boarded the truck and drove to the drop point. After thirty minutes of careful driving, they reached their destination.
Taylor was gripped by the darkest thoughts. On the one hand, he didn't want to die, because a family needed a husband and a father. On the other, it was the only way out.
The truck stopped. Everyone climbed out. They walked briskly to a small forest on a hill. From this vantage point, they could see the Russian base.
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