Operation Spring Cleaning

[Gunther]

As the Battalion continued its preparations for the impending drop, the Battalion Recon platoon was just about ready to make the jump. They gathered their gear and began camouflaging their faces. They used black electrical tape to secure loose equipment. Each man jumped up and down to insure they adhered to noise discipline standards. No rattling or banging noises would be permitted in a tactical environment in the Battalion.

The Dengali Battalion Recon Platoon was dropping via Mi-8 this evening instead of the C-130 which the main body of the battalion would use the next night. The Commander of the Aviation Company coordinated with Lieutenant Warsofsky, Recon Platoon leader. He told the Russian Officer who felt quite at home with the Mi-8 Hip helicopter; that they would fly into the objective area at nap of the earth (NOE). When they neared the Drop Zone, they would climb to 800 feet. Two minutes from the DZ, the pilot would turn the red light on and when they were at the near edge of the DZ, the pilot would turn on the green light. This would give the paratroopers time to get ready for the jump.

"Thank you, sir," the lieutenant told the Captain. I'll let the rest of the platoon know. At 2030 hours, the Recon platoon boarded the Mi-8 and took seats in the canvas webbing and aluminum framed seats arrayed in the cargo area of the Helicopter. Flight time to the Drop zone was forty-three minutes. At forty-one minutes into the flight, the red light came on.

Sergeant First Class Inam Mansour was acting as Jumpmaster for the platoon. When the red light flashed on to the left of the open jump door, the jumpmaster was already on his feet. SFC Mansour stood near the door. All of the jumpers' eyes were focused on him. With arms extended outward in front of him and moving the hands forward with palms facing, he yelled, "Get Ready!" The paratroopers looking toward the jumpmaster, repeated the command. "Stand up!" the jumpmaster yelled and the paratroopers repeated his command. The paratroopers stood up and faced the rear of the aircraft.

"Hook Up!" yelled Sergeant Mansour while making a hook with the index finger of his right hand indicating that everyone should hook up to the static line. The paratroopers yelled, "Hook up!" in response to the jumpmaster's command and complied with his instructions. The jumpmaster also hooked up to the static line.

While waiving both hands back and forth slowly next to his helmet, SFC Mansour yelled slowly, "Check Static Line!" All paratroopers repeated the jumpmaster's command. From the hook down to the chute, each man ran their fingers over it to insure it was attached properly. "Check Equipment!" yelled the jumpmaster with the assembled paratroopers repeating in unison. The paratroopers insured their helmets were secured to their heads and a quick visual check of the trooper in front and the trooper behind.

"Sound off for Equipment Check!" yelled the jumpmaster followed by the Dengali Recon Platoon repeating the command in unison. From the last man towards the front of the aircraft, came the word "OK!" yelled by the man behind. The word was repeated all the way up the line until it reached the first man at the rear of the aircraft. This man looked at SFC Mansour and yelled, "OK, Jumpmaster!"

The Mi-8 Hip is a loud aircraft to ride in. Typically only paratroopers and flight crews become used to it. SFC Mansour held onto the sides of the open door and leaned his body out far enough to see outside the fuselage of the aircraft. He was wearing his Night Vision Devices. He marveled at the majesty of the mountains looming to the side. The aircraft was flying at 800 feet above the ground and the tops of the mountains around him were over 3000 feet higher than the helicopter he was standing in. He could barely make out the shadowy shapes of the trees and other objects on the ground. The moonlight helped him to distinguish the ground from the surrounding slopes.

[url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dg4aPJ93b8o]AIRBORNE![/URL]

SFC Mansour pulled himself back inside and yelled at the first jumper, "Stand in the door!" both waited five seconds until a green light flashed on. "Go! Go! Go!" The jumpmaster yelled as each soldier stepped outside the aircraft facing toward the rear of the aircraft. The static line pulled the parachute from the soldier's packs one at a time. The Jumpmaster moved the empty pull lines toward the back as each man approached the exit.

Upon exiting the aircraft, SFC Mansour counted four seconds and inspected the inside of his canopy. Since the African Legion uses only white silk parachutes, he only saw white when he looked up. He knew that if you didn't see white, you pulled your reserve chute. Twelve seconds later, he put his feet and knees together and slightly flexed his knees. He released his Gearslinger pack and let it hit the ground below him.

The twenty paratroopers gathered their chutes up and watched as the Mi-8 quickly lost altitude to return to its NOE altitude for flying. No reason to alert everyone in the valley of their presence.

"Rally on me!" Lieutenant Warsofsky yelled. The platoon did a quick headcount, everyone was present and accounted for. They wrapped the chutes around the backs of their necks and double timed towards Objective Yankee to the West. They had to climb 4000 feet of elevation over almost 3 kilometers to get the top of the ridgeline. They used a road to walk on, prepared to dive into the edges if a vehicle approached from either direction. Every man had their NODs on as they moved rapidly up the slope in the darkness.

It took them almost two hours to reach the top of the ridge. They found a house toward the southern end of the ridge line. Was it inhabited by friendlies or Kickapoo conspirators? 'I guess we'll find out in the morning', Lt. Warsofsky thought to himself. They moved to their Patrol Base which was in some dense vegetation on the west side of the ridge line. The platoon dropped their gear and split up into Squads. The Platoon Leader and Platoon Sergeant would remain in the patrol base while the squads went to check on the other three objectives.

It was past midnight when first Squad, lead by Staff Sergeant Rad Khalil arrived at the top of Objective Victor, where D Company and the Service and support Company would occupy. At 0155 hours, SSG Khalil called on the radio, "Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali Seven one, over."

"Dengali Seven one, this is Dengali Seven zero, go ahead over," Replied Lieutenant Warsofsky.

"Seven zero, seven one, SITREP, Delta Zulu and Oscar Bravo Juliet are clear, break." The sergeant took his finger off the push to talk button for a few seconds and then depressed it again. "There are three abandoned hunting lodges in this area, but nothing inhabited, over."

"Roger that, Seven one. Implement your rest plan and commence patrolling in the alpha mike, out." The Lieutenant clicked off the radio.

At 0232 hours, the radio crackled to life again, "Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali Seven Two, over." SSG Amir Khoury called over the radio.

"Dengali Seven Two, this is Dengali Seven zero, go ahead over."

"Seven zero, seven two, the Delta Zero is clear, the Oscar Bravo Juliet has two zero private residences, break." Sergeant Rashid waited a few seconds and redepressed the PTT button, "I have located two Zulu Sierra Uniform two tree dash four Shilkas just east of the Delta Zulu, over." Staff Sergeant Khoury was concerned about the Civilians who lived in these houses.

"I'm sure Dengali zero six has a plan for them. The Civies may be the reason he chose that area, over."

"Roger that, Seven zero, over."

"Seven two, this is seven zero, implement a rest plan and continue patrolling in the Alpha mike, out."

At 0345 hours, third squad finally checked out the C Company area and reported in. "Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali seven tree, over." SSG Fatih Rashid called over the radio. He waited a full minute and heard no response, "Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali seven tree, over." SSG Khoury looked at his Assistant Squad leader, SGT Faraj Yaseen who was also the squad's sniper. Sergeant Rashid had a concerned look on his face.

"Dengali seven tree, this is Dengali Seven Zero November, over." SFC Mansour answered him as the Lieutenant was sleeping.

"Delta Zulu is clear, but there are bad guys to the north and south of here, over." SSG Rashid stated in hushed tones.

"Seven tree, seven zero, tell me what you see, over."

"There are two Zulu Sierra Uniform two tree dash four Shilkas to the south at the location noted on the Intel map, break." The third squad leader waited a few seconds and transmitted again. "There are two Zulu Sierra Uniform two tree dash four Shilkas to the north near the road junction annotated on the map, break." pause. "We couldn't get close to the location where the company of militia are supposed to be located. We did however see armed civilians, white in color roaming the streets. I would suspect that the location is accurate, over."

"Good Work, Seven tree, implement a rest plan and initiate patrolling in the alpha mike, Seven zero, out." SFC Mansour began to set up a field expedient antenna. He pulled three sticks together and wrapped the WD-1 wire around it. He attached the insulators and connected the wire to the aerial. Then attached a length of 550 Lb. Parachute cord to the aerial and the other end to a rock. He tossed the rock up over a branch of a tall tree and pulled the aerial connected to the wire up into the tree. The other end was then connected to the antenna post on the PRC-77 radio. Finally, he switched to the Battalion Command Frequency and attempted to contact the rear, "Dengali Fife Zero this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." Sergeant Mansour released the mic and waited. He attempted to contact the Battalion's Net Control Station in the rear, which had antennas that could range out 30 or 40 kilometers. "Dengali Fife zero, this is Dengali Seven Zero, negative contact, out."

Edited June 5, 2011 by Gunther

[Executive Minister]

[quote name='Tidy Bowl Man' date='01 April 2010 - 07:53 PM' timestamp='1270166018' post='2244550']
"Those who surrender will be allowed to surrender. The President is currently meeting with his cabinet to discuss the post-war options. None of us for a second believe that these loons in the Kickapoo government are representative of their entire population. As of now the RoE is lethal force for all Kickapoo citizens who show themselves armed and dangerous. Simply possessing a firearm in a non-threatening manner will not be grounds for opening fire. After all, they are being allowed to surrender, hard to do that without giving up your weapon. Once the ADA network is reduced leaflet drops will be conducted to inform the Kickapoo citizens to lock themselves into their homes, and be prepared to disarm once SDF forces are sighted. The exact procedure for that is being arranged and once it is firmly set it'll be distributed to all SDF units. Once the valley is secured and the Kickapoo civilians and soldiers who surrender are disarmed we'll more than likely be exercising two options," elaborates the President.

"The first will be allowing those of the Kickapoo who aren't charged with any violations of the Sudanese Republic Administrative Code the choice to remain in the valley under SDF supervision, more for their own protection, minus their slaves. The second is wholesale deportation to their home countries. All of this depends on the state of mind of the Kickapoo civilians who surrender. Again, we don't believe their entire population is representative of their absurd government. If they can be worked with, and they haven't violated any Sudanese Republic laws, they will be allowed to stay in their homes," concludes Major General Charles White.

With a moment of extra though he adds,"It is important to note that the President has established a scale of priorities for this operation. He orders that when it comes to the SDF priorities the SDF will be putting the SDF and allied forces safety first, the safety and lives of the slaves second. The civilian Kickapoo slaveholders third, with the Kickapoo soldiers dead last."

[/quote]



[quote name='Tidy Bowl Man' date='19 April 2010 - 09:17 AM' timestamp='1271683059' post='2266217']
The Major General looks around the room and says, "If there are anymore questions feel free to approach me individually. Right now we have a great deal of work to do. A finalized version of the Operation Planning will be in your hands as soon as my staff can get busy making adjustments to our working draft." He then turns his attention to Brigader General Dellion who is waiting on De Falco to join him for a quiet word regarding something of great importance. White dismisses this from his mind as he quietly walks out the door of the briefing tent and watches the Dengali Battalion bash away on the parade ground. Never being one to conform too closely to traditional military customs he motions to his assistant and says, "Handle the rest of this, I'll be mingling with the troops," as he walks off to quietly talk to old friends who he hasn't seen in quite some time.
[/quote]

De Falco sat, frowning at a dossier she was given on Objectives CALGARY and RECLUSE. The President and General did little to assuage her growing concerns about the operation.

[i]Either live a life under foot or leave... the world has definitely not changed much...[/i]

She thought to herself, careful to mask her strong feelings over the matter with a feigned concentration on the layouts and battle plans she held in her hands. She was a professional first and foremost- she was to carry out her orders to the letter, regardless of any misgivings she had. Her family had been in an eerily similar predicament.

[i]Perhaps, if I called in a few favors asked for debts to be paid... no one would have to know... a flight of Cargo lifters wouldn't be missed, and they would not be gone long.[/i]

She shook the treasonous thoughts out of her head as she stood up to leave. The meeting was adjourning and she was eager to brief the men and women under her charge. Pushing back her seat, she began to depart from the meeting room. Making sure to look calm, cold and collected- the classic De Falco look.

Her features were still hard when she noticed General Dellion looking intently at her. Strolling over, she gave a prompt salute to her superior.

"Sir, how can I help you?"

[Captain Enema]

"I believe a favor was asked of me in Australia. I've been directed by the Major General to follow up on that favor," replies Dellion as he waits for De Falco to respond. In the past Dellion has been described as the anti-Denard. Where Mad Dog is irrational and prone to fits of rage, Dellion is logical and calm. Where Denard is creative and dynamic, Dellion is a plodder and ordinary. The relationship between Bob and Dellion has served as a balance for the Legion for over twenty years. The two have balanced each other out and provided a well rounded leadership for the Legion in some of the most trying times of the Legion's history. To call Dellion the lapdog of Denard would invite the full wrath and fury of any Legionnaire who knows Dellion to be as loyal and courageous as any Legionnaire can aspire to be.

In order to secure a bit more privacy he uses a free hand to motion towards the tent door as if to indicate that a brief walk away from the Command tent might serve the purposes of promoting a more effective conversation.

[Executive Minister]

[quote name='Tidy Bowl Man' date='19 April 2010 - 10:26 PM' timestamp='1271730378' post='2267251']
"I believe a favor was asked of me in Australia. I've been directed by the Major General to follow up on that favor," replies Dellion as he waits for De Falco to respond. In the past Dellion has been described as the anti-Denard. [b]Where Mad Dog is irrational and prone to fits of rage, Dellion is logical and calm. Where Denard is creative and dynamic, Dellion is a plodder and ordinary. The relationship between Bob and Dellion has served as a balance for the Legion for over twenty years.[/b] The two have balanced each other out and provided a well rounded leadership for the Legion in some of the most trying times of the Legion's history. To call Dellion the lapdog of Denard would invite the full wrath and fury of any Legionnaire who knows Dellion to be as loyal and courageous as any Legionnaire can aspire to be.

In order to secure a bit more privacy he uses a free hand to motion towards the tent door as if to indicate that a brief walk away from the Command tent might serve the purposes of promoting a more effective conversation.
[/quote]

"Indeed, and I will ask it," she said as the two of them made their way off. De Falco held her dossier to her chest as she watched the Dengali recon platoon undergoing preparations to drop. She did not understand war like a common soldier would. In her perch in the sky, she would often take a detached outlook on scenes of carnage below her.

[i]...from the first movement flows the second... strike, repeat, circle one's opponent... repeat, faster, quicker...[/i]

"It is not such a distasteful thing, yet I find myself hoping that the you and the other Sudanese do not see our eagerness to aid your cause in a different light when I ask of it."

She pulled out a picture of sort, of an [url="http://forums.cybernations.net/index.php?showtopic=80873&view=findpost&p=2197807"]assailant[/url] Nodic Forces met and managed to survive against above Sudan:

[img]http://img318.imageshack.us/img318/639/mig6319if.jpg[/img]

"As you are well aware, the NoN violated your airspace multiple times to attack the Sargungian homeland during the Second East African War. During a bombing campaign aimed at the Sarnungian nuclear capability, Angel One, four squadrons of our Deathstalker and Black Widow aircraft were engaged by these unknown attackers of presumably Sargungian or Artemis origin. These planes were highly stealthy, extremely fast but were fortunately piloted by either incompetent or grossly complacent personnel. Our forces managed to down at least three of these machines over your airspace, including a few over theirs."

De Falco felt a pang of guilt- she could see that this request could easily be seen as an admittance to the NoN having ulterior motives for aiding their newfound friends. Nevertheless, the Air Militant Command (AMC) would need all the help it could get- the newly reinstated branch of the Nodic Militancy had been thrust unto the forefront of the conflict and soon became the first line of defence and offence against those who wished the Nodic people harm.

"It is of utmost importance that the NoN and Sudanese obtain these highly advanced wrecks- this image is merely a render of what we 'think' we fought and killed over Sudan... technicians and researchers at Military Aviation Complex (MILAC) are confident from initial scans of onboard flight data recordings recovered from our planes that much is to be attained by securing them.

The advancements they might bestow upon us will be crucial in advancing not only ours, but if your superiors agree to a joint reverse engineering process, your military advances as well, putting us both in a very favorable position when it comes to defence."

"In short, that is why we sent those Harbingers- not only to help you in your fight against the Kickapoo, but that they have the capability of lifting any surviving remains of these crafts out of the rather bleak and corrosive desert environment. If any of us are to gain anything from our victory in the air, we must act with haste."

OOC: Like Don Cherry and Ron MacLean, I love it.

[Captain Enema]

Dellion, a practical man first and foremost, listens to De Falco with quiet interest. As he listens he can't help but think to himself, 'Giving them the wrecks would serve both our purposes.' Knowing full well that Sudan isn't in any position to take advantage the potential windfall of technology he says nothing until she finishes talking. Once she's finished he thinks for a long hard moment and considers all the possibilities. Also, he thinks back to the conversation he had earlier with Major General White as the two men flew to Red Base One.

"Sir, what exactly do you mean by give them what they want within reason?" asked Dellion.

"You heard me, give them what they want as long as it is within reason," replies Major General White.

"My idea of reasonable is much different than yours," Dellion replies.

"Don't give them any of our land, any of our people, and anything we can't afford to loose," orders the Major General.

"Yes sir," Dellion said as he took careful notes. The same notes that he's examines once again before looking at De Falco and making a decision, as he's empowered to do so. "Ma'am, once you've deployed the howitzers I think you'd have time enough to make a run to the crash sites and recover the wrecks. I'll detach a few of my own staff officers along with typed orders and recognitions codes to see you there and back. Red Base Three has several isolated hangers. We can store the wrecks in them until you are ready to send them South. I'll detach a platoon of SDF troops to guard the hangars and they'll have a list of authorized personnel. That list will include myself, White, and whoever you see fit to designate from your forces. If you have lift capacity to get them out sooner then by all means, do it. We'll do what we can to assist that in the form of fuel and men to load your aircraft. In short, we are happy to let you have them, and will help you get the material to NoN in anyway we can, just ask and if we can deliver we'll deliver."

Edited April 20, 2010 by Tidy Bowl Man

[Captain Enema]

[b]Greenly Morris's Manor, Kickapoo Confederation[/b]

"So that is the rub Mr. Denard, we are going to execute you," Greenly Morris says as he gloats.

Mad Dog Bob Denard looks up at Greenly Morris and considers his choice of options. He could try for a snide remark, he could go for a last request, or maybe even draw on his well polished supply of curse words. The temptation to speak is strong, but the will is not. Bob is tired, so tired his lips feel like lead weights on his face. The rest of his body is a conflicting maze of pain and numbness that he gave up trying to sort through days ago. The one thing that hasn't crossed Mad Dog Bob Denard's mind is surrender.

Giving into an odious piece of filth like Greenly Morris just isn't in him. For the last twenty years Bob has held the knowledge inside of him that those who live by the gun die by the gun. He said his prayers for his eternal salvation years ago. Without much in the way of muss or fuss Bob allows Greenly Morris's men to drag him to his feet and guide him out of his cell. Each footstep is an act of blinding agony that he repeats all to often as he is half marched and half carried out into backyard of the Manor.

As the sunlight hammers at his eyes Bob feels himself thrown on the ground. Rather than make it easy he just lies still and forces Morris's men to roll him over, which they do by using their feet, and stand him up to tile him to a post. Bob looks at Greenly Morris as he watches the man slowly slide a sausage like round into the chamber of Bob's own .357 pistol. The only thing on Bob's mind is, 'I bet the idiot hasn't even field stripped my pistol. He's going to be in for a bit of a surprise if he hasn't.'

"Mr. Denard, I understand your mother passed away several years ago?" asks Greenly Morris.

Bob nods as he can't speak. The mention of his mother's name takes his mind back to a scene far to long ago with him tossing his cellphone into the garbage can of a gas station in Somalia to escape his mother's constant harping. He regrets that now as that was the last time he actually spoke with her before the unfortunate mess of a war with NoN that resulted in her passing away from the shock and strain of leading a nation at war. The woman might have been an excellent cook, a decent mother in her own way, but she just wasn't cut out for the rigors of leadership.

"Mr. Denard, as your mother is dead I'm going to shoot you in the face. No mother should have to see her son's face after it is blown off by a .357," states Greenly Morris.

Bob grunts.

"Mr. Denard, I'm quite serious about this. Do you have anything to say in your own behalf?"

Bob grunts again.

"Very well Mr. Denard," concludes Greenly Morris as he walks up, raises the muzzle of the pistol to Bob's head, and prepares to squeeze the trigger as he says, "One last chance Mr. Denard, speak now or it is over."

"For the love of god, shoot me," grunts Bob who is getting a little exasperated with Morris's bad acting and melodrama.

"Very well Mr. Denard, I condemn you to hell," as he squeezes the trigger only to find out that Bob had sabotaged it at the helicopter crash site by removing the firing pin before he passed out. The hammer falls with a loud snap and Greenly Morris begins to repeatedly jerk on the trigger as he screams and raves at Bob.

"A wise man once told me to squeeze not jerk," grunts Bob as he watches Greenly Morris dance around the yard in a state of enraged frenzy that must have taken several years off his life from the high blood pressure alone. 'Maybe I can piss him off enough to give him a heart attack, wouldn't be the first time I've managed something like that,' he thinks as darkness falls in his mind leaving him unconscious and oblivious to shrieks of Greenly Morris.

[Gunther]

[b]Objective Yankee
The Next Morning[/b]

"Dengali Fife Zero this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." Lieutenant Warsofsky released the mic and waited. He attempted to contact the Battalion Command Post. "Dengali Fife Zero this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." The Lieutenant waited several seconds for a response. SFC Mansour rolled over in his sleep and groaned. "Dengali Fife Zero this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." He knew they were too far away to get a message back to the rear. Even with the Field expedient antenna he could only hope to range 12 kilometers instead of 8. He switched back to the platoon net. "All Dengali Seven Zero Stations, this is Dengali Seven Zero actual, SITREP, over."

"Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali Seven one, break." Sergeant Ghalib Malik responded with his SVD laying across his thigh. The Squad sniper and assistant squad leader depressed the PTT button and continued. "The Sierra element is displacing to Victor in tree zero mikes and the Alpha element will commence patrol at that time over."

"Dengali Seven one, this is Dengali Seven Zero, Roger out." The Platoon Leader clicked off and waited for the 2nd Squad.

"Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali Seven Two, over." Sergeant Barak Hassan responded as his squad leader was still asleep.

"Seven two, this is seven zero, send SITREP over." The Lieutenant was a bit annoyed the Assistant squad leader didn't just send the report as requested.

"Seven zero, seven two, same as seven one element, over." Sergeant Hassan spoke into the handset.

"Good copy Seven two, seven zero, out."

"Dengali Seven Zero, this is Dengali seven tree, break," Sergeant Faraj Yaseen. "Sierra element is displacing to Victor. Alpha element will check out that suspected cantonment area to the north in four fife mikes, over."

"Roger that, Seven tree, seven zero out." The lieutenant looked at his sleeping platoon sergeant and thought, 'All of my NCO leadership is asleep this morning,' then repressed the PTT, "Dengali seven zero, switching nets, out." He flipped the switches to the Battalion Main Command Post frequency and transmitted, "Dengali Fife Zero this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." The Lieutenant tried several times to contact the rear without any success. "Any station this net, any station this net, this is Dengali seven zero, over." The recon platoon leader was becoming frustrated. He knew there were three ADA positions each containing two ZSU-23-4 SHILKAs and a barracks containing more than a hundred enemy soldiers in his AO and he couldn't contact anyone outside the Kickapoo Valley.

The Russian Lieutenant had an idea, he flipped through his SOI and found the frequency and call sign for the Artillery battery on Fire Base Gloria. 'These guys have got to be in range to receive my transmissions,' the Lt thought to himself.

"Gloria Two Seven, this is Dengali Seven zero, over." Lieutenant Warsofsky transmitted over the Artillery battery's radio frequency. "Gloria Two Seven this is Dengali Seven Zero, over." He wasn't receiving any response. "$%&@!" the lieutenant exclaimed and then looked around to see if anyone heard him. His platoon sergeant looked up at him with a scowl.

"I know, I'll keep it down." He repressed the PTT button, "Any station this net, any station this net, this is Dengali Seven Zero, over."

[Gunther]

(OOC: pardon, double post.)

Edited April 23, 2010 by Gunther

[Captain Enema]

Captain Shorl Mugabe listens to the radio traffic from Overwatch. His command center, a bunker dug right into the rocky surface of the mountain, is filled with maps and radio equipment. As he listens he looks to his radio operator and says, "Give me the microphone."

"Yes sir," replies the radio operator.

The Captain presses the transmit button and says,"Gloria two seven reading you loud and clear," as he flicks through the book of radio code and SDF procedure. He hopes what he is saying will work as he was recruited last week. His sole qualification being the operator of one of the biggest shortwave radio stations in Port Sudan. The procedure for transmitting over military signals being much different from transmitting over civilian bands was off-putting at first, but he has quickly gotten used to it.

[Gunther]

"Oh thank God," Lieutenant Warsofsky muttered and depressed the Push To Talk button (PTT) on his handset, "Gloria Two Seven, this is Dengali Seven Zero, unable to contact my higher headquarters, break." pause, "need you to relay to Dengali Fife Zero on their net, over."

(OOC: Assume it happens.)

"Advise same we have arrived and located OPFOR on CALGARY, break," the lieutenant allowed the customary pause and then transmitted the grid locations of three Air Defense Artillery (ADA) sites with two ZSU-23-4 Shilka's located at each site. He transmitted the location of the enemy barracks in the northeastern section of Calgary that contained at least 100, possibly more enemy combatants. Once the transmission went through and was confirmed, the Dengali recon platoon leader let out a sigh and collapsed on the ground, "Thank !@#$@#$ God for that one."

"LT, why don't you get some rest, I'll monitor the radio this morning. The Sniper teams should be gathering on Victor and then 1st Squad is returning here later this afternoon. They will let us know when the snipers get to Victor just before they leave. Then we have to set up the Drop Zones after sunset ready for the rest of the battalion to drop.

"I suppose you are right, Sergeant," the lieutenant said. "Give me two hours and wake me."

Edited April 23, 2010 by Gunther

[Subtleknifewielder]

[b]Soon after the Battallion drop[/b]

This team was coming in much lower and faster than the Legion. They were fewer in number, and needed the element of surprise even more than their allies if they wanted minimal casualties penetrating the enemy lair.

By the time they had triplechecked their equipment and parachutes, and donned the latter, their plane was as close to the ground as could possibly be safe for a jump.

----

Thanking whatever deity might be listening that this was in the dead of night, Clancy managed to collect his team one by one. It helped that they hadn't scattered too far. One soldier had only just managed to get he chute open in time, and suffered a sprained ankle, but a splint took care of that for the time being. They could not afford to leave anyone behind, even someone in such obvious pain. And they were practically in the middle of the enemy stronghold.

Their current location was a field that was, miraculously even for this time of night, devoid of life, with the 'capital' building of the Confederation a mile away. Two of the soldiers helping the wounded one, they set out. They had several hours to get there--undetected.

OOC: Sorry if it lacks detail. I don't have the experience you do.

[Captain Enema]

OOC: Gunther sent in the recon team, the Battalion drop hasn't happened yet, at least as far as I can tell.

[Gunther]

[quote name='Subtleknifewielder' date='23 April 2010 - 09:44 PM' timestamp='1272073426' post='2272596']
...their plane was as close to the ground as could possibly be safe for a jump.[/quote]

(OOC: Combat Jumps are from 800 - 1200 feet. 800 feet is minimal safe dropping altitude. This is the altitude the Recon platoon jumped at and is the same altitude the Battalion will jump at when they come in this evening after the NoN Aircraft clear the area of ADA systems.)

[Subtleknifewielder]

[quote name='Gunther' date='24 April 2010 - 07:00 AM' timestamp='1272117594' post='2272974']
(OOC: Combat Jumps are from 800 - 1200 feet. 800 feet is minimal safe dropping altitude. This is the altitude the Recon platoon jumped at and is the same altitude the Battalion will jump at when they come in this evening after the NoN Aircraft clear the area of ADA systems.)
[/quote]
OOC: told you I wasn;'t experienced--what would I do without you?

In any case, the reply is considered null until the right time, then.

[Gunther]

[size="3"][b]North of Objective VICTOR
Kickapoo Valley[/b][/size]

[center][img]http://www.imt.net/~mele/images/ingrass.jpg[/img][/center]


Sergeant Ghalib Malik and Senior Private Abdul Haq Rasheed had donned their Ghillie suits prior to First Squad heading out on their patrol. The sniper team broke off from the rest of the squad when they arrived at the military crest of the northernmost ridgeline leading into the valley below. They had a decent line of sight to the road below and the Drop Zone where they had dropped in the night before. Sergeant Malik assumed a kneeling position while leaning against a n elm. The tree helped to steady the rifle. He peered through the 10-power scope with a 32mm objective lens. He was able to read the fine print on the backs of his squad mate's packs as they descended the ridge about 200 meters in front of him.

'Is this a hunting party?' Staff Sergeant Rad Khalil thought to himself and then recalled the OPORD Lieutenant Warsofsky gave them yesterday. The Kickapoo Confederation soldiers wore "hunting clothes." There were six of them and only four Legionnaires; no telling how many more were in the area. SSG KHalil put a fist in the air next to his head and the other three soldiers in the squad froze in place. With forefinger extended and thumb raised on his right hand, he gestured in the direction of the six "hunters."

Sergeant Malik and Private Rasheed also had the six man hunting party in their sites. 'Amateurs,' Malik thought to himself. The first one in the column had a white object hanging from his lips and smoke blew out in front of his face. Even though they were roughly 300 meters away, within seconds the odor of burnt tobacco made it to his nostrils on top of the ridgeline. The sniper moved the crosshairs of his scope onto each man in the column and then back to his Squad leader who was making a gesture; with palm facing the sniper, the Squad leader waved his hand up and down in front of his face. This meant that he did not want him to engage. Obviously, if the bad guys fired on friendlies he would have no choice but to open fire.

The enemy patrol walked along without a care in the world. Sergeant Khalil motioned his patrol to slowly go prone and they complied. They too smelled the smoke from the cigarette. "My old lady wants one of them fancy new mikey-wave ovens." The Dengali recon patrol listened to the conversation. "I tole her to stuff it. You ain't gettin' no damn mikey-wave oven. Yo mama taught you how to cook good. While yo at it, git in da kitchen and bake me a pie!" The other men in the hunting party laughed at that one.

"Quiet down you lackies!" one of the older men yelled. "You never know if them darkies are roaming around out here."

"Yea, right," another spoke up. "Dey so skeered o'us, they ain't comin' anywhere near us. If they was to come close to me, I'd stick em wid dis here blade." The man had an eight inch survival knife, razor sharp. Unwittingly, the six men walked only 10 feet from four African Legionnaires hiding in the brush. If it wasn't for their discipline, the six Kickapoo soldiers would be dead, but the operation that was about to come underway would be compromised.

When Sergeant Khalil's patrol reached Objective Yankee, he told his platoon leader and platoon sergeant about the near contact with the enemy. He described that they were carrying a variety of weapons. One had an AR-15, another carried an M60 Machine gun with no tripod or spare barrel in sight, a third carried an AKMS, the fourth man had a hunting rifle with scope; probably .30-06 or .308 caliber by the looks of the muzzle, the fifth man only carried a pistol and the final guy had an M79 Grenade launcher. He only had a few 40mm grenades in a vest. The Squad members were instructed to get some rest

[Captain Enema]

[b]Greenly Morris's Manor[/b]

Greenly Morris speaks into the mouthpiece of the satellite phone as he says,"We are gonna kill the slaves, starting today," to President Thomas Mbembe.

"You are advised to not do so," replies Mbembe.

"It's done," grunts Morris as he hangs up the phone.

[b]Task Force Blanco[/b]

"Morris said what?" asks Major General White.

"He's going to start killing the slaves," replies Mbembe.

"That ties our hands now, I advise we go on all fronts as soon as possible," White responds.

"Do it," orders President Mbembe.

Major General White turns to his assistant and says, "Notify Dengali, African Legion, and 4th Regiment of the situation and order everyone in."

[b]African Legion Front[/b]

"Go," orders Colonel Deltrane.

"Yes sir," replies his assistant as he sends the orders to prepare to advance over the radio. With in moments a hammer and then a rumble is heard from the distance as the artillery units supporting Task Force Blanco erupt. Their fire is directed at the Kickapoo front-lines that are entrenched in the narrow passes. Two previous bids for air assaults on the rear areas of these defenses failed due to Kickapoo ADA units. Only a few days prior the same defenses were on the verge of collapse, but an order directly from the President stopped everyone in place.

Those few days had been used wisely. Replacements were brought forward, food, ammo, and water was brought in as well. Supply lines were improved as the jungle trails that scrambled their way up the steep mountain sides had been proving dangerous. Security detachments were brought forward as well to defend support units that had caught up with the advancing Legion forces. Sniper units, scout teams, and Special Operation Group detachments made their way forward to prepare to do their part to snap the Kickapoo front like a dry twig.

The Kickapoo forces had not just sat by quietly. The ten commandos that previously held the line had been reinforced. Units that previously were a handful of surviving men were now fleshed out with replacements. Hundreds of men from the Kickapoo Militia beefed up the passes with their presence and dug in to stabilize their much abused lines of defense. With them they brought mortars, rocket launchers, mines, and razor wire to fortify their lines. Once they arrived they went furiously to work under the vigilant eyes of the Legion and SOG snipers and scout teams.

The first few salvos of fire are directed at known Kickapoo concentrations. As those shells scream towards the earth their high explosive charges erupt and send debris that ripples through the jungle. The artillery of Task Force Blanco is joined by a squadron of F-4 Phantom II Fighter Bombers that drops their own deadly payloads onto known Kickapoo concentrations farther to the rear. Their mission a bit more involved also draws attention of the Kickapoo ADA sites with their deadly beads of fire.

A sight that is quickly noticed by a circling SDF OV-10 Bronco II. The OV-10's passenger, a nervous little chap with a radio and a pair of binoculars puts in a radio call to the Task Force Blanco Overwatch, or fire control center as it is known to some. A few moments later the fire of the TFB's 155 howitzers is shifted as it targets the reported ADA sites. The Kickapoo ADA units aren't completely wiped out as one of the three survives, but they certainly are left much reduced in their capacity to defend the Kickapoo passes from the African Legion.

The Legion 1st and 2nd Battalions advance in small groups. Jungle warfare just isn't conducive to advancing in a massed formation. Such stupidity had proven foolish with the invention of the Gatlin gun. The Zulu Wars of the racist British colonial era prove this as well with the use of the Maxim machine guns on the Zulu tribes. With their desire not to be shot to pieces by presenting a large target the advancing men connect with the earth as they imitate turtles that are scrambling their way up slope, and while they scramble others descend.

The passes that the Kickapoo are defending aren't the only way over the mountains. SOG teams have quietly made their way up and over in small detachments of four or more over the last three days. Once over the mountains they find themselves looking over the Kickapoo rear areas. As the first rumbles of artillery are heard the SOG men quietly move into position to set up mines on the Kickapoo trails. The SOG mission is simple, block the ability of the Kickapoo forces to advance up the trails as well as retreat down them. Rather than setting up ambushes the SOG men are using mines along with sniper teams to gum up the flow of troops to avoid pitched battles.

Deltrane quietly waits and watches his men at work in his forward command post. The air is hot and sticky as the men of the African Legion do their work. As he watches Deltrane can't help but wonder if Dellion or Denard would have proceeded using his same plan, and in the end decides that taking the counsel of his fears would prove self destructive.

[b]4th Regiment Front[/b]

The Commanding Officer of the 4th Regiment glowers at the burning remains of the tanks that are in a tangled mess in front of him. Over a dozen men dead, dozens more wounded, and no noticeable progress against the Kickapoo defenders on his front.

He grunts and says, "We'll get em.. sooner or later we'll get em, and when we do.. we are gonna kill em all."

[b]Fire Base Gloria[/b]

Six 105 Howitzers lie wait. A special detachment of SOG men watch the valley through their telescope looking for targets as well. The base is high enough up that it needs little in the way of defenses, but despite that a platoon of SDF infantry is in position to assist if the Kickapoo renegades find their way up the mountain.

[b]Greenly Morris's Manor[/b]

"I'm just waitin' to die," mutters Bob as he watches a fly aimlessly buzz overhead.

Edited April 26, 2010 by Tidy Bowl Man

[Gunther]

"Let the unit commanders and Staff know we are leaving within the hour. "Charlie told Major Covington and Major Guilbert that he had just heard from the TF Commander. "The Kickapoo are planning to kill the slaves. He feels it is necessary for us to make a daylight drop now. He looked at his watch, it was already noon.

[b]Objective Yankee[/b]
"Roger that." Lieutenant Warsofsky handed the handset back to Sergeant Mansour. "Well, we'll need to send someone back to Objective Victor." The Lieutenant thought about it for a minute. "Ok, here's the deal. They'll be dropping in around 1435 hours," the recon platoon leader looked at Staff Sergeant Khalil. "Me and Sergeant Mansour will double time to Victor. The Snipers don't have a radio. They need to know the Battalion is coming in daylight.

"Sir, I must remind you that the Kickapoo are patrolling the area. If you run over to Victor, they will certainly find you," the first squad leader told his platoon leader.

"Understood," he looked at his platoon sergeant.

"I'm OK with it, LT," the platoon sergeant responded.

The lieutenant looked at Senior Private Habib Qasim, "Give me your 'prick'! You can use mine, it is connected to the field expedient antenna. We'll let you know when we arrive on the platoon net." Qasim slipped off his radio and handed it to the Lieutenant who handed it to Sergeant Mansour. Mansour, took the 23 pound man portable radio and fitted it onto his back with his gearslinger over the outside of the radio.

Lieutenant Warsofsky and Sergeant First Class Mansour took off running down the hill. They made it to the north south road running through the Kickapoo Valley in ten minutes. When they reached the road, they heard vehicle traffic and ducked into the trees. A white pick-up and green sedan went racing by, oblivious to their location. The two legionnaires got back up to their feet and continued trotting down the road. Within a few minutes, they reached the closest spot to where the woods came together and sprinted across.

Sergeant Malik and Private Rasheed were in the same spot they were earlier in the morning when 1st Squad left for Yankee. They saw the two vehicles pass along the road and then noticed their platoon leader and platoon sergeant running a few minutes later. Malik and Rasheed gave each other a worried look and then scanned the ridge below them for enemy patrols.

"Who was that on the road?" A Kickapoo soldier asked.

"I dunno. Someone off to buy some milk maybe."

"Keep yer traps shut, you lackies!" The Kickapoo patrol leader yelled at his men.

Lieutenant Warsofsky and Sergeant Mansour heard the yell and went to ground. They immediately started looking in the direction it came from.

"You see that?" A Kickapoo hunter asked.

"No."

"I'm not kidding, I saw something in the woods in front of us."

"Ok, spread out. Let's see what we got here." The Kickapoo patrol of eight soldiers went on line and headed toward the sound of the two recon soldiers.

Sergeant Malik found the source of the yell in his sites and watched what was going on. He saw the patrol go on line and head toward his PL and PSG. Fortunately for the sniper, he was on their flank. He knew the Lieutenant was about to be captured.

Sergeant Mansour and Lieutenant Warsofsky, each flipped the thumb safety off a frag. They put their forefingers inside the 'twist-pull' pill and pulled them out. They then hopped up to one knee exposing themselves to the Kickapoo soldiers briefly, reeled back and tossed two Fragmentation grenades just before dropping back down to the ground.

The explosions rocked the valley and announced to the world, that something bad was going on. Three of the Kickapoo confederates caught shrapnel. One died right away and the other two had blood streaming out of their ears and nostrils. They would die within ten minutes if they didn't get medical attention. They would not.

The other five members of the Kickapoo patrol recovered their senses and laid down a base of fire towards where the grenades came from. Sergeant Malik looked down the scope and found the first Kickapoo Confederate. The SVD sniper rifle barked out a 7.62mm slug stopping the first one. Four seconds later, he acquired the next target and one minute later the Kickapoo patrol was dead. Sergeant Malik accounted for five shots and five targets. He scanned the area looking for more. The sounds of the gun had stopped.

Senior Private Rasheed caught movement to his left and looked. It was Lieutenant Warsofsky and Sergeant Mansour sprinting up the hill. No sense walking slowly now. With all that ruckus, everyone in the valley will be heading this way.

"Keep an eye on this ridge and watch those corpses!" Lieutenant Warsofsky yelled as he ran back Sergeant Malik.

Sergeant Malik looked at Mansour and shrugged his shoulders as if to ask, 'What's going on?'

"Stay here!" The sergeant yelled. "Where is Hasan and Yaseen?"

"On Victor; north side and southeast side."

"The Battalion's dropping in the hour! We need to get the DZ prepped!"

Edited April 27, 2010 by Gunther

[Executive Minister]

[u][b]***Drop Zone Calgary Theatre (Supply the Rebels)***

-Eliminate ADA north of DZ Chick
-Eliminate ADA north of DZ Robin
-Eliminate ADA south-west of DZ Robin[/b][/u]

De Falco looked at the mission planner between her knees. She had sent Eclipse towards its own independent sortie aiding the Promised Landers in capturing objective RECLUSE with orders to follow any frontal aviation needs they needed. The Harbingers had already taken off towards Firebase Gloria, and would thereafter make their own way towards the NoN's secondary objective.

De Falco was to act as a Liaison Officer for Col. Deltrane, LTC. Hicks, and any other Company heads during their duties in Sudan as part of the Eastern Theatre. De Falco would use the call sign Foxtrot 06, her aviation company was to be split at the Squadron level, half sent to RECLUSE, the other half here at CALGARY.

[b]"Ladies and Gentlemen, I want this clean and quick. Forward scouts have given us the OPFOR situation today, we have three ADA sites with two Shilka batteries at each site- make that six vehicles in total. Furthermore, we have recieved word of a bonus objective of sorts- there is a Kickapoo militia barracks in the North-Eastern portion of our theatre. This will be dealt with after the ADA north of DZ Robin has been eliminated. It appears fate has smiled upon us today- the Strela's are most likely located at RECLUSE- pray for our brethren engaging them there."

[/b]The attack plan was to be simple. Approaching from the East, flight four of Skull Squadron would immediately break off for the north to eliminate the northern DZ Robin batteries- the first three aircraft would buzz the barracks on the way west to the ADA, while the last would lag behind to drop two fuel air bombs on the site and join in the assault further West...

[...]

***South East of DZ Robin***

[b]"Aashna, break now"[/b] De Falco ordered over the dull whine of the swarm of rotors. The four helicopters tasked with this first component headed off with a prompt,

<<Yes mistress, changing flight path>>

The flight was hazardous- all helicopters were ordered to fly close to the tree tops, precarious as this forced the helicopters up and down elevated terrain. As they approached the barracks, secluded up against the ridge's face they were in a fast descent. While relatively nimble, the Ravager models were most vulnerable when changing elevation, altering their approach vector or breaking off from a contact.

To eliminate any surprises, the lead element of the flight- Aashna's Black Mamba, was to scoot ahead, designating any targets to her flight mates via her machine's Target Acquisition Systems Software. Over a range of 10 miles the Black Mamba can track, identify, designate on a infrared or TV field of view and classify according to threat priority multiple targets and send them to friendly forces, to a pinpoint of 15 meters.

The nimble Reconnaissance/Command class helicopter darted ahead several miles of the three heavy hitters she held in tow. She put her Quiet Flight mode ON and soon the audible drone of her rotors diminished to a remarkably silent level.

Soon, she could see the barracks. Numbers of white illuminated figures darted to and fro on her infrared monitors. Aashna quickly gauged that this was not due to her actions, they were responding to the distant news of the African Legion engaging Kickapoo positions with artillery at sundown. Quickly making a mental note on how many figures her sisters would need to anticipate, her TASS began to acquire and collate the various mechanized targets present near the barracks. The system quickly put the various unarmed jeeps and trucks at the bottom of the queue for destruction, and began putting stationary [url="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ZU-23-2"]AA emplacements[/url] and [url="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ZSU-57-2"]ZSU-57-2[/url]'s as priorities.

Aashna breathed a sigh of relief- these weapons would be woefully inadequate against these fast flying and heavy hitting Ravagers. All aircraft the Nod frontal aviation forces utilized had airframes 'ballistically tolerant' to 23mm rounds. The more powerful 57mm guns would be devastating were it not for the fact that the self propelled mounts had no radar, carried little ammunition and had a relatively slow turret traverse and elevation speed.

She flew over the northern face of the barracks, barely reaching above the treetops. She brought her steed around 45 degrees so she could carefully evaluate the performance of the two assault elements and finally the last annihilation element.

The two Ravagers were announced not by the buzzing of rotors, but by the launch of two Stabber-A missiles from 5 miles (8000 m). The 170mm Triple Stack Charge ATGM's streaked towards the two ZSU's parked in a corner of the small enclave, impacting with two muffled thumps. The two blasts illuminated the dark enclosure enough for Aashna to see that the Kickapoo militia had been caught 'with their pants down'. The men had barely enough time to scamper about in disarray as the two flying tanks flew in, noses down like swooping birds of prey. Aashna watched with the same cold complexion a scientist would have studying microbes in a petri dish. The Ravagers turned the quiet night air upside down with their arrival in the immediate vicinity. Using the target information relayed to them, the two singled out the emplacements, snuffing them with repeated launches of their 90 mm [url="http://warfare.ru/?catid=346&linkid=2512"]Spiker[/url] General Purpose Unguided rockets, the individual launches and impacts of the criss-crossing projectiles were deafening even from Aashna's perch. Stopping only after firing off a number of 40mm blast fragmentation rounds from their belly mounted autocannons, the two Ravagers broke off the attack, heading West.

Satisfied with the destruction her charges wrought, Aashna turned to follow, the same leap frogging tactic would be used on the ADA there. Soon, it would be a matter of time before DZ Robin would be open to coalition landings.

The last of Aashna's Ravagers made its way almost immediately after the three other members of its flight took off. With the Kickapoo barrack's garrison still reeling from the blow, and their attention on the departing assailants, they did not see this final strike until it was too late. The with the depression of a single button, the pilot pulled back on her control stick gaining altitude quickly. Below her, the twin canisters she released sprouted their parachutes giving her precious time to escape the blast wave. After reaching the apex of her ascent, the pilot then pressed her Ravager into a steep dive- not only regain the crucial 'below the treetop' altitude required for survival, but to gain much needed speed.

A dozen meters above the ground, the first canister erupted in a relatively small blast, the second following suit soon after. It was only after a second that the real blast waves erupted from the noticeable absence of sound. The fuel air bombs annihilated the remnants of the barracks, leveling surrounding trees hundreds of meters away and sending dust and debris farther.

[...]


**West of DZ Robin, DZ Chick**

While Aashna's flight was located several miles north of their position, De Falco took her flight towards DZ Chick. It was of crucial importance that she be present at this particular objective- MILAC and the Executive Ministry had tasked her on evaluating the combat performance of the newest variant of the standard Ravager Heavy Gunship. Dubbed the Vanquisher Heavy Tank Killer, the engineers at Military Aviation Complex took the already overpowered Ravager, with its 40mm twin-fed autocannon, 90mm rocket pods, 170mm ATGMs and bomb pylon and radically outfitted the Vanquisher with a single 120mm Compact Anti-tank gun system normally present on main battle tanks and twin .50 cal miniguns. This radical design concept forced engineers to at first alter the Ravager airframe, before finally redesigning it around the 120mm gun.

The reasoning behind the Vanquisher variant was simple- while a Ravager is guaranteed to kill at least four to eight MBTs with its ATGMs depending on the load out, and an undetermined number more with its 40mm autocannon and 90mm rockets, it would soon run out of ammunition and would thus be only capable with dealing with a limited number of armoured vehicle platoons, if one as the Ravager was a General purpose fighter that also engaged massed troop formations and stationary targets. The Vanquisher was outfitted with an above standard MBT load out of 50 rounds in two 25 round canisters fed into the single gun that took the entire belly and wing ordinance pylons, at most enabling the flying hulk to disable at most 40 armoured vehicles. To further guard against MANPAD wielding infantry accompanying the Vanquisher's primary meals, the twin miniguns were mounted on ball turrets on either side of the chassis, enabling full 180 coverage from front to back and 90 degree 'elevation' downwards. The only draw backs to the Vanquisher was that it was a purely ground attack oriented model- not well suited to the General Purpose role its predecessor the Ravager filled. Its only means of active defense- the miniguns, could not engage targets in the upper hemisphere of its being.

Another peculiar nuance the Vanquisher model had was its flying patterns. While the added weight of the main cannon did add some noticeable decrease in top speed and acceleration, this was negligible at best. The real effect was the gun's required space on the airframe. The large gun assembly and ammunition storage required the Ravager's stub wings to be elongated- these wings blocked some of the downdraft from the main rotor shaft necessary for perfect stable hovering. The Vanquisher was thus forced to live the life of a shark, constantly on the move, in order to stay a float. The added 2000kg+ of the gun and the ammunition forced the Vanquisher to only have the gun and miniguns, but also made perfect Vertical take-off impossible, if not dangerous. It was found, however, that the Vanquisher could undertake a rolling take off like a conventional aircraft. This STOVL procedure meant that the Vanquisher would only be able to operate in a limited capacity on the frontlines, opposed to the Ravager and Black Mamba models that were pure VTOL.

De Falco was charged with leading a flight composed of her lead two seat variant of the Black Mamba, and three Vanquishers. The quatro made their way west south of the first flight's vector. Snaking their way around the same elevated terrain Aashna chose to fly over, De Falco was put in close proximity to the soon-to-be DZ Robin. She disregarded this observation- her target was the ADA battery North of DZ Chick.

As they passed DZ Robin, De Falco heard a distant boom echoing out from Aashna's position.

[i]Good, you have yet to let me down. You are shaping out to be a fine protege.[/i]

De Falco thought as the second objective in her mission planner, [u][b]'-Eliminate ADA north of DZ Robin'[/b][/u] faded out with a tone.

Nearing the ADA site De Falco swiftly gave orders,
[b]
"Vanquisher 01, I want to to fly to the northern flank of the site, Vanquisher 02 take the southern flank. Vanquisher 03 you will be on stand by, strafe the entire perimeter of the battery location should you find the need, grazing fire should be appropriate. I will watch from the North East."[/b]

<<Yes Mistress>>

"Yes Ma'am"

[i]"Heavy Tank killer on the move, Commander."[/i]

The trio descended on the unknowing ADA operators like savages. Flying in a slight horizontal strafe, the helicopters let loose with their 120mm guns and miniguns- soon the plateau was enveloped in streams of tracer arcs that streaked gracefully parallel to the ground. If a target was not completely felled by a cannon shot, the tracer streams would find their way to the stubborn offender and linger on it for a moment, before being lashed in another direction.

As if appraising the handiwork of her charges as sufficient, she ordered the attack to break off with a single, [b]"Enough!"[/b]

[...]

It was not longer after the [u][b]'-Eliminate ADA north of DZ Chick'[/b][/u][b] [/b]was removed from her mission planner that the third and final site was similarly reported eliminated. Ordering her forces to regroup to the North East, where the first of many Sudanese C-130 airlifters were sure to be approaching, she radioed Dengali 06,

[b]"This is Foxtrot Oh-Six reporting sites Chick, Robin and Colt are free of AA. I repeat Chick, Robin and Colt are clear. I have dropped green flares, CALGARY is open and am currently on standby, over."[/b]

Edited April 28, 2010 by Executive Minister

[Gunther]

[b]Drop Zone Lamb
1435 Hours, D-Day[/b]
Sergeant First Class (SFC) Paul Banian, SFC Christopher Comey, Staff Sergeant (SSG) Juan Martinez and SSG Stephen Lennox were jumpmasters for the two A Company Aircraft. The C-130s were jammed to capacity at 64 personnel per Aircraft. There are 128 soldiers in a Line Company, which worked out perfectly for the Dengali battalion organization. The flight to Drop Zone LAMB would take less than an hour. Most of the soldiers of A Company, Dengali Airborne slept. Some chewed gum and fidgeted with their gear.

When the red light flashed on to the left of the open jump door on the right side of the aircraft, the jumpmasters were already on their feet. SFC Banian stood on the left side of the aircraft and SSG Martinez stood on the right side. With arms extended outward in front of them and moving them forward with palms facing, they yelled, "Get Ready!" in unison. The paratroopers turned their heads toward the jumpmaster and repeated the Jumpmaster's command. "Stand up!" the jumpmaster yelled and the paratroopers repeated his command. The paratroopers stood up and faced the rear of the aircraft.

"Hook Up!" yelled the two jumpmasters while making a hook with the index finger of their right hands indicating that everyone should hook up to the static line. The paratroopers yelled, "Hook up!" in response to the jumpmaster's command and complied with his instructions. The two Jumpmasters also hooked up to the static line.

While waiving both hands back and forth slowly next to his helmet, SFC Banian yelled slowly, "Check Static Line!" All paratroopers repeated the jumpmaster's command. From the hook down to the chute, each man ran their fingers over it to insure it was attached properly. "Check Equipment!" yelled the jumpmaster with the assembled paratroopers repeating in unison. The paratroopers insured their helmets were secured to their heads and a quick visual check of the trooper in front and the trooper behind.

"Sound off for Equipment Check!" yelled the jumpmaster followed by half of A Company repeating the command in unison. From the last man towards the front of the aircraft in each of all four columns, came the word "OK!" yelled by the man behind. The word was repeated all the way up the line until it reached the first man at the rear of the aircraft. This man looked at SFC Banian and yelled, "OK, Jumpmaster!"

The C-130 is a loud aircraft to ride in; sometimes referred to as a vomit comet. Typically only paratroopers and flight crews become used to it. SFC Banian held onto the sides of the open door and leaned his body out far enough to see outside the fuselage of the aircraft. He was wearing goggles; sun, wind and dust. He marveled at the majesty of the mountains looming to the side. The aircraft was flying at 800 feet above the ground and the tops of the mountains around him were over 3000 feet higher than the airplane he was standing in. The other four Companies were flying at higher altitudes as their Drop Zones (DZ) were in higher elevations. Only A Company was dropping on the Valley floor. He could see the VS-17 panels; their bright pink and orange hue stood out in the green terrain. 'Thank you recon,' the Company Jumpmaster and platoon sergeant thought to himself.

[url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dg4aPJ93b8o]AIRBORNE![/URL]

SFC Banian pulled himself back inside and yelled at the first jumper, "Stand in the door!" both waited five seconds until a green light flashed on. "Go! Go! Go!" The jumpmasters yelled as each soldier stepped outside the aircraft facing away from the prop blast or toward the tail. The static line pulled the parachute from the soldier's packs one at a time. The Jumpmaster moved the empty pull lines toward the back as each man approached the exit.

Upon exiting the aircraft, SFC Banian counted four seconds and inspected the inside of his canopy. Since Dengali uses only white silk parachutes, he only saw white when he looked up. He knew that if you didn't see white, you pulled your reserve chute. Twelve seconds later, he put his feet and knees together and slightly flexed his knees. He released his Gearslinger pack and let it hit the ground below him.

The sky was filled with silent warriors descending upon the Kickapoo Valley. They were heavily armed and ready to fight. The bright blue sky was blotted out by all the paratroopers filling the sky.

A Parachute Landing Fall (PLF) when properly executed consists of four points of contact. The first point is your feet, second your knees, third your bum and finally you roll up onto your back. Sergeant Banian executed a perfect PLF, secured his chute and rolled it up. He released his jump harness and pulled his pack up onto his back. He secured his AKM, inserted a magazine and locked and loaded one round leaving the selector lever on Safe.

Lieutenant Ravi Prabhaka called for Second Platoon to rally on him. Within minutes, the thirty-six soldiers of his platoon were gathered around him. Squad leaders called out, "First squad all present." "Second Squad all present." "Third Squad all present." "Headquarters all present."

"Sergeant Call, First squad is on point, let's go!" the Platoon leader commanded his first Squad Leader. All across Objective Calgary the same sight was repeated as B Company moved onto WHISKEY, C Company rallied on Objective X-RAY and D and Service and Support Company gathered on Objective Victor. At each location a small team of Recon soldiers were there to greet them.



[b]Objective VICTOR[/b]
"Colonel Hicks!" The exhausted Russian Lieutenant ran up to his Battalion Commander.

Charlie removed his helmet and secured it to the back of his Assault Harness below his gearslinger. He pulled his beret out of his right cargo pocket and secured it to his head. "Lieutenant Warsofsky, damn glad to see you, son," Charlie yelled at his Recon platoon leader. The man was 35, but Charlie still referred to him as 'son.'

"Likewise, sir. Would you care for an update?"

"Walk and talk with me."

The two men strode along casually toward Objective Victor. The Lieutenant explained what they had been doing since the drop before and mentioned the brief contact they had only an hour or so earlier. Everyone expected the Kickapoo to at least investigate, but no one came. The corpses and weapons were still in the woods to the north of Victor. The Lt listened to the NoN Aircraft pounding the hell out of the ADA systems and saw one of the huge behemoths fly over his position.

Sporadic gunfire could be heard to the north and northeast. The two men talked about their day as if they had just golfed the back nine and Augusta.

"I'd like you to stay here with your snipers and wait for the Engineers to arrive tomorrow. You and your snipers can guide the platoons to their new homes," Charlie instructed the Lieutenant.

"Roger that, sir," Lieutenant Warsofsky stated. "Welcome to the 'Kicking Poop.'"

[Captain Enema]

[b]African Legion Front[/b]

Colonel Deltrane looks down the other side of the mountain as he takes in the sight of bodies, wrecked equipment, and out of control fires. The last four hours of fighting had been point blank in your face no holds barred sort of alley brawling. A third Air Assault attempt finally causs, ed the entire Kickapoo defense to collapse. The remains of the defenders fled down the mountains only to run into the mines and snipers of the SDF Special Operations Group detachments that had inserted earlier by going over a series of very dangers mountain trails.

His radio operator hands him the hand-piece and says,"Sir, Major General White is requesting an update."

Deltrane nods and takes the hand-piece and says,"Legion Six to Blanco Prime, we've taken the pass."

"Copy Legion Six, can you advance?" asks the Major General.

"We need to get our ranks sorted out a bit, but yes, we can advance," replies Deltrane.

"I'll send some helicopters to extract your wounded and to bring in supplies, pass along to my Logistics Office your needs," orders White.

"Yes sir, out," replies Deltrane as he turns to his radio operator and says, "Raise Third Battalion and tell them to get up here ASAP. 2nd and 1st Battalion are to prepare to push their scouts forward as soon as possible. Someone get the SOG teams on the line and let them know we are coming as well. Find out what we need in the way of consumables and radio it to Blanco's Logistics Officer."

"Yes sir," replies the Radio Officer who is used to wielding Deltrane's authority in his name and smiles as he remembers doing it for Dellion and before Dellion doing the same thing for Denard.

[b]4th Regiment[/b]

"Bring it right in on those coordinates," says the 4th Regiment Fire Support Coodinator.

"Copy, you should see it in a few seconds," replies the Overwatch Liaison circling above in an OV-10 Bronco.

The FSC looks around him and shouts, "Get down damn it," as he makes himself one with the earth. As promised a few moments later the scream of jet engines and turboprops begins to fill the air. A snap and a whistle if followed by the roar of flames as napalm, high explosives, machine gun fire, and rockets are dumped on the Kickapoo defenders who have tenaciously been holding the passes in front of the 4th Regiment. With the roar of the explosions fading the FSC peeks his head up over the berm and is promptly shot between the eyes by a Kickapoo sniper who managed to survive the conflagration that consumed so many of his comrades just a few moments before.

The bulk of the Kickapoo resistance up in the passes was destroyed, but what is left has no intention of easily surrendering.

[b]Greenly Morris's Manor[/b]

"What?" screams Morris at the reports of a airborne assault in the midst of the Kickapoo homeland. The news of the Eastern and Western passes being breached doesn't please him much either. He turns to a disciple and says, "Send in the Holy Legion!"

Bob listening next door doesn't laugh. He's in too much pain to laugh. Any other day he might get a chortle over the idea of anyone ordering in the, "Holy Legion." Had he known that the Holy Legion consists of a strategic reserve of Kickapoo fighters that are far better armed and prepared that the run of the mill militia he might have had a different response. Despite his agony, discomfort, and the acute need to urinate, he's lucky.

Greenly Morris is far too busy to even remember he has Denard tied up in the next room.

[b]Holy Legion[/b] (OOC: lol)

"Those are our orders boys," says the Commander of the Holy Legion.

"Yes sir," snaps the officers as they relay their instructions to their battalions. Within minutes hundreds of men take up their automatic weapons, machine guns, sniper rifles, rocket launchers, mortars, and MANPADs and begin to move towards their designated assembly points. They are careful as well, they move where they can find cover, and they don't move in groups larger than six to twelve. With so much of the valley being farm land it is easy to conceal most of their movement in the heavy orchards that lay in the valley.

With the ADA defense system being obliterate the fall back comes into play as slave owners across the valley begin taking the child-slaves and begin tying them to the front of buildings to act as human shields. Not all do this as not all are all that thrilled about the idea of using anyone as a human shield. This silent minority of citizens share furtive glances as they consider their options. One of them, Ben Russel, a forty year old gentleman farmer takes it upon himself to act as he quietly sends word to his like minded neighbors.

[b]Ben Russel's Home[/b]

"I am not going to tie children to my barn," snaps Ben Russel.

"Neither are we, but we don't have any damn choice, you know what Greenly will do if he finds we are defying him," says Charlie Otago.

"Look, we've been friends our entire lives, our farms are prosperous, our people are happy, and we take care of our own," retorts Ben Russel as he refers to his slaves as his people. He's the sort of owner who treats his people with a genuine kindness and compassion that indicates he's stuck by the color of his skin and the threats of his neighbors with supporting an institution which he dislikes intensely. His like minded neighbors feel the same way and over time they've grouped their farms in one general area in which a sort of uneasy tension exists between the slave owners who terrorized their slaves and Ben Russel's people who actively tried to shield the people in their care from the worst of the predations of the Kickapoo Confederation.

"That's a given Ben, but you know as well as I do that we don't stand a chance against Greenly Morris and his Holy Circlejerk," mutters Otago.

"Not now no, and not alone, but you've been following things as well as I do, the Sudanese are coming and they aren't going to stop."

"Yeah, some of my field hands have been talking about it, they say Morris has that Denard character in his manor."

"Exactly, with things all generally confused and discombulated wouldn't it work in our favor if that Denard character was in our hands instead?"

"It would make it easier to speak with the Sudanese government through him, as they'd probably sooner shoot us on sight."

"Good, get some of your men together, I'll get some of mine, we'll get Nate Parker's boys, Sam Thomas's lads, and Michael Harris's bunch and go raid Greenly's place and spring this Denard. We'll bring him back here and pool our forces to hold off Greenly's men as long as we can," orders Ben Russel.

"What about our people?" asks Otago who refers to the Sudanese natives they've spent countless hours protecting from their fellow Kickapoo citizens.

"Today they aren't our people anymore, today they are fighting for their own freedom. We'll give them a choice to join us and if they choose not to we'll get encourage them to head for the jungle to hide out while this fighting is going on," replies Russel.

"Some of these men are like my own family Ben, I don't like the idea of sending them into the Jungle without weapons or food," mutters Otago.

"There are no good solutions anymore Charlie, it is fight or die not fighting," concludes Ben as he pulls his Winchester pump action shotgun out from behind the door and begins to feed 3 inch magnum rounds into its extended magazine.

Within an hours men from the various families that consist of the anti-Greenly Morris faction begin to gather at Ben Russel's farm. They come in trucks, cars, and all are armed with shotguns, rifles, and a couple automatic weapons. One enterprising soul even brings along a cannon that he uses during the yearly parade. It isn't much to look at but the four inch bore makes a hell of a large boom when fired. Ben Russel puts a tired palm to his face and mutters, "This just isn't going to end well," as he watches the men gather around the cannon.

[Gunther]

[size="3"][b]VICTOR, the Dengali Battalion[/b][/size]
While the officers of the S2/S3 shops and the Battalion S6 manned the radios, the enlisted men dug into the earth. They worked on a large pit that would eventually contain the Tactical Operations Center or TOC. The Recon soldiers who were present at Victor were digging hasty fighting positions between D Company's line and the TOC location. The Weapons platoon was on the northern side behind D Company doing the same thing. Each Company had three squads out as far as 1000 to 1500 meters around their strong point battle positions looking for any enemy soldiers.

"B Company took three casualties and C Company took five," Major Guilbert told Charlie Hicks. "Some of the local militia fired upon them at the Drop Zones. Our guys chased them away but not until after we got our nose bloodied. The C Company Executive Officer, Tommy Rierson caught a slug in the thigh, but he should recover."

"How about the defensive efforts?" Charlie asked his S3.

"Everyone is digging in. The Barrier material should arrive tomorrow. I can ask the Four if we can get it in the morning."

"Do we have radio contact to the rear CP?"

"Yes sir," Francois Guilbert answered. "The Commo guys erected 2 two-niner-twos. We won't be able to set them up remotely as the antennas would be in Kicking Poop country, but they are up."

"Good, so Mari and Kal know we are here," Charlie was pleased. "Call Kal and have him send a chopper to pick up those lads on WHISKEY and XRAY. We don't need to leave corpses lying around for too long.

"Tell me about the mortars."

"They are in place and have a general 360 degree direction of fire. They will respond to whomever needs help.


[size="3"][B]1500 meters south of Objective YANKEE[/B][/size]
Staff Sergeant Michael Call put his flat extended hand up alongside his head. The soldiers of 1st squad, 2nd Platoon, A Company stopped and took a knee. The point man shouldered his rifle scanning the area in front of his squad. Each man behind him alternated left and right scanning the woods. The last man in the file was the B Team Leader, Sergeant Tim Pouliot. He told Senior Private Cristov Stupanovich to cover the rear as he walked towards his Squad Leader.

He looked at Mike Call to see what he was doing. "Compass two zero, this is Compass two one, over," Mike Call whispered into the handset of the squad radio.

"Compass two one, this is Compass two zero, over," Lieutenant Ravi Prabhakara responded.

"We have arrived at Objective Princeton. Will attempt contact, over."

"Roger out."

The Squad Leader looked like a 3rd base coach giving off hand and arm signals to various people in the cigar-shaped perimeter. He moved the machine gun team, consisting of Corporal Lawrence Chapdelaine carrying the "pig" (PKM 7.62mm MG); Senior Private James Aquiar with an AKM, PKM Tripod, spare barrel bag & more ammo; and Senior Private Keith Bredberg also carrying an AKM & another 800 rounds of PKM ammo.

The Machine gun team was placed on some high ground to overlook the small Sudanese Village. Senior Private Jon Grygalonis was the squad's designated Marksman because each of the last 18 years that he has qualified with his AKM, he has consistently hit 40 out of 40 targets. Private Grygalonis was placed just to the left of the MG team. A Team was also placed on the left and B Team on the right. One man of each fire team was oriented towards the flanks to insure no one surprised them. The Ammunition bearer Private Bredberg faced about looking back up the hill in the direction they came from.

Staff Sergeant Call and Sergeant Pouliot walked out towards the village exposing themselves to anyone who dared look out a window. The two men gave each other uneasy glances as they approached the first house and knocked on the door.

[Captain Enema]

[quote]Staff Sergeant Call and Sergeant Pouliot walked out towards the village exposing themselves to anyone who dared look out a window. The two men gave each other uneasy glances as they approached the first house and knocked on the door. [/quote]

The door swings open to reveal numerous murdered Sudanese civilians in various poses of visceral terror. A few of the older ones appeared to have gone to their afterlives with looks of relief on their faces. Most of the blood pools have not yet fully dried.


[b]Ben Russel's Column[/b]

Roughly sixty heavily armed men are carefully making their way towards Greenly Morris's manor when they find themselves crossing into the land of one of their more notoriously brutal neighbors. Ben Russel looks over at Chelinia, a tall wiry Sudanese male, and says, "This time if you see him, shoot him."

Chelinia knows full well that Ben Russel is referring to the man who owns the land they are crossing. Just a few months ago Chelinia crossed onto the man's land by accident and was whipped by him for it. Chelinia looks over at Russel and says,"My pleasure," as he holds one of Ben Russel's shotguns a bit tighter in his hands. As Chelinia looks out the window of the truck and keeps his eyes open for signs of danger he reflects on the rapidly changing situation within the valley that is tearing apart the internal structure of the Kickapoo Confederation.

Hundreds of Sudanese civilians have fled their captors manors and farms to take refuge in the orchards and forests. Those who have made it to safety are doing their best to survive. Those that were caught by the Holy Legion were killed on sight. Stories of rape and torture are very common. Cheliania has already managed to lead several groups of frightened Sudanese men and women to the safety of Ben Russel's farm and the farms of those who are aligned with Ben Russel's ideals.

However, it appears that the normally pacifistic group of farm owners have cast their vows of non-violence to the side to take up arms. They've done more than that as they've opened up their gun racks as well. Dozens of shotguns, rifles, and pistols have been distributed to Sudanese men who are forming up small companies to defend the farms of Ben Russel's group. Working with them are the families of the white settlers who are coordinating the activities via radio and even carrying messages between the companies as the Holy Legion men aren't likely to stop a white person.

The column moving towards Greenly Morris's manor is another joint effort to end the sickening reign of terror that the religious fanatics of Greenly Morris's sect has held over the valley of the Kickapoo Confederation. Sixty men, half Sudanese half White settlers are all armed and prepared to do violence. A few of the men have some sort of former military experience and they've taken it upon themselves to organize the trucks and men as best as they can. Most though tend to fall into the familiar light skirmishing role that they've learned while out patrolling with the Kickapoo Militia.

[b]African Legion[/b]

Deltrane looks down at his missing arm and asks, "What in the hell?" Just a moment before he was moving with his regiment down into the valley to take the war into the Kickapoo homeland. Now his arm is missing and a dozen African Legionnaires are down and bleeding or already dead. A dazed sort of confusion falls over him as he looks around not quite sure what to make of things. Everything is ever so bright and for the life of him he can't understand the buzzing noise in his ears.

"Sir, lay down sir, someone tripped a damn mine," says a medic as he helps Deltrane lay down.

"What?" asks Deltrane who only sees the Medic's mouth moving.

"SIR, LAY DOWN," shouts the medic as he becomes a bit more forceful and forces the Colonel to lay down as he applies a tourniquet to the man's bloody stump. Lt. Colonel Baria Mustapha of the 1st Battalion runs up with a few of his men and kneels by Colonel Deltrane. He motions for his men to fan out and check the other Legionnaires and to provide aid as they can. With his other hand he signals for his radio operator to crank up the radio as clearly Deltrane and the others need to be evacuated.

"Sweet merciful Allah," mutters Mustapha who is an highly experienced bomb maker himself.

The radio operator hands him the hand-piece and says,"Major General White sir."

"Blanco Six, this is Crazy Achmed, Legion Six needs immediate evac, so do several others," Mustapha says and waits for White's response.

"Copy Crazy Achmed, am I right in assuming Legion Six is out of the running?"

"Confirmed White Six, Legion Six is out of the running, I'll assume command until relieved."

"Keep up the scare and don't let the Kickapoo renegades get any room to breathe. We can't let them collapse onto the Drop Zone in the valley," orders White as he signals his Air Traffic Controller and pushes him a note that gives the order to dispatch an immediate medical evacuation flight, with Flight Surgeon to Deltrane's position.

"Copy White Six, will keep on the pressure until otherwise ordered," Mustapha says as he hands his radio operator the hand-piece and does his best to keep Deltrane as still as possible as the Morphine kicks in.

Edited April 28, 2010 by Tidy Bowl Man

[Subtleknifewielder]

Clancy knew what he had to about airborn operations, enough that he knew it was not safe to drop into an area covered by any sort of AA defense, and he knew their value in assisting in ground ops. Oh, did he know that.

But he knew little about actually piloting the damn things, or the tactics the pilots used to achieve their own goals. That's why he left the AA suppression in the capable hands of the Nod pilots, after supplying them with the intel he'd gotten back from home.

Once that was done, it was his turn. Each and every one of his men was ready, having double and triple-checked their weapons and equipment, had little else to do but wait, and pray if they so wished, until the moment they stepped out into the air.

They were extremely fortunate that the particular LZ they had picked was free of defenders, though topmost in everyone's mind was the fact that this would unlikely remain so for long; with Murphy's Law in effect, the battlefield was never a predictable place. Especially behind enemy lines, they forcefully reminded themselves, dropping low to ther ground as their target objective came in sight.

What guards there were could easily be picked off, they judged, but after that...there was where intel would begin to become sketchy at best. Despite a number of advances, satelites could only see defenses on the outside. They couldn't see through walls.

[Captain Enema]

[b]Greenly Morris's Manor[/b]

A small detachment of Holy Legion troops are waiting on the front porch to confer with Greenly Morris as Ben Russel's column of trucks comes screaming to a halt. At first the Holy Legion troopers think they are Kickapoo Militia, but that notion is quickly disabused as Cheliani steps out of the lead truck with a shotgun in his hands. Cheliani being a fairly determined chap raises the weapon to his shoulder and methodically performs what others will later call a ballet of extermination.

The gaping maw of the 10 gauge shotgun, one of the few of its kind in the Kickapoo Confederation, vomits round after round of .32 caliber sprays of buckshot as Cheliani works the crowd of Holy Legion troopers on the porch like a gardener mows a lawn, from left to right and in a straight line. Within a few seconds Cheliain has worked and fired his weapon six times leaving a pile of torn and mangled corpses on Greenly Morris's front porch. The rest of the men in Ben Russel's outfit sort of gawk as Ben Russel climbs out of his truck and shouts, "God damn it don't sit around and stare, get in and grab Denard, I don't want to be here when Greenly Morris get's his head out of his hindquarters!"

The rest of Ben Russel's friends and allied Sudanese men pour out of the truck and hit the front porch like a tidal wave of pissed off humanity as they tear their way through Greenly Morris's manor like the a gang of Navy Sailors through the bars while on shore leave. In short, they don't particularly pay attention to the simple matters of being polite and see fit to smash and burn just about everything old Greenly Morris owns. In the process they free all his slaves, throw Mad Dog Bob Denard onto a makeshift stretcher and carry him out to the front yard and discover a rather large cache of AK-47 rifles, ammo, and other equipment in a side building.

"Cheliani, get some trucks and load up the weapons," orders Ben Russel.

"Yes sah," barks back Cheliani as he is followed by a dozen or so men start jumping into the cabs of nearby trucks and pulling them up to the side buildings to load them with the discovered weapons. Greenly Morris's slaves, while badly beaten and abused, still find the energy to assist in the loading and are somewhat taken back by Ben Russel and his friends as they push the badly treated slaves aside and tell them to sit down as they take up the task of loading the vehicles. The prevailing opinion amongst the freed slaves, these be some crazier than normal white boys.

Mad Dog Bob Denard isn't thinking about much of anything, but had he been fully conscious he probably would agree with the freed slaves. As he isn't concious he's being treated by one of the nurses brought along by Ben Russel. The nurse, one Sarah Russel the wife of Ben Russel, is rapidly binding Bob's many wounds as an ugly looking Sudanese man named Dari helps her. She's trained him in medicine for the last few years and he's one of the best she's ever worked with. One more than one occasion she has commented that it is a shame Dari didn't have the chance to study to be a doctor. His misfortune at not being able to study is Denard's gain as Denard needs all the medical help he can get at the moment.

(OOC: Go ahead with your drop Subtle, it is part of the storyline.)

[b]4th Regiment[/b]

The passes were bad enough, but these tight valleys and narrow roads into the Kickapoo heartland are even worst. RPG teams have been wreaking havoc on the 4th Regiment vehicles since the beginning. Their rate of advance is frequently referred as glacial, at best. No one really blames the 4th Regiment for this as Major General Charles White has frequently taken it upon himself to ladle out ample portions of praise and support for the hard pressed men of the battered 4th Regiment.

Part of this support is the dedicating of certain air assets to be on station at all times above the 4th Regiment. A section of two F-4 Phantom II Fighter Bombers is on station loaded down with high explosives or napalm at all hours. Supporting them is a section of MI-8 gunships at lower altitudes with a flight of four OV-10 Broncos as well. To some extent this has helped speed the 4th Regiment's advance, but even more helpful is the inclusion of a battalion of lighter more agile vehicles from 5th Regiment.

The Sandcats, AXEs, and V-150 Armored Cars perform far better in the narrow confines of the country they are fighting their way through. The infantry dismounts attached to the vehicles allow the 4th Regiment to take the battle into the bush to pursue the RPG teams. Orders are strict though as the men of 1st Battalion of the 5th Regiment are told not to go too far into the bush as the mission requires the 4th Regiment to fight their way into the valley and clearly the mission of the RPG teams is to stop that from happening.

[b]1st SOG Detachment Alpha[/b]

The question in Major General Charles White's mind at the moment is, "Where in the hell is the Detachment Alpha?"

The question in the mind of Rol Mbembe, Team Leader of Detachment Alpha is, "Where the hell are we?" He's right to ask the question as his maps indicate he is on the very edge of Kickapoo territory and his actual position puts him right in the middle of an apple orchard inside of Kickapoo territory. He'd normally quietly ask the question and hope one of his men could figure out the answer. Such is the luxury of working with intelligent motivated men, one of them is always bound to know.

However, at this point in time none of them can speak. They are to busy hoping the men of the Holy Legion won't notice them hiding in a large pile of Apple bins that is piled along the side of the orchard. Rol Mbembe and his three men are hiding inside the large wooden boxes that are stacked three high and just a short distance away are several hundred Holy Legion men making their way forward to their assembly areas in preparation to attack the Dengali Battalion's drop zone. Rol Mbembe, cousin to the President of the Sudanese Republic watches the Holy Legion pass by and once they are past he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

His radio operator doesn't even need to be told what to do, again working with intelligent well trained men lets that sort of thing happen. The radio operator decides to skip the usual voice message and goes right for keying a quick message in morse and sending it via burst transmission. The radio operator being a versatile sort is able to key roughly sixty to seventy words a minute. Using a very common piece of off the shelf equipment he is able to record the message, speed it up, and send it via burst transmission after establishing contact with Firebase Gloria by gaining the attention of their radio operator.

[b]Firebase Gloria[/b]

"Oh this is not good," mutters the Captain as he looks over at his radio operator.

"Yes sir, not good at all," agrees the Radio Operator.

[b][i]"Dengali Six, this is Firebase Gloria Overwatch, do you copy?"[/i][/b] asks the Captain as he waits for Colonel Charlie Hicks to respond.

[b]Task Force Blanco[/b]

"Mr. President I appreciate the situation you are in, but we just have to play it out. There is no rushing this operation. We've already engaged and taken casualties to conduct our operations," explains Major General White.

"I don't think you quite understand the enormity of the situation," the President tersely replies.

"Sir, we can't be held responsible for what happens in that valley. If there is a massacre then so be it. We are doing the best we can. What more would you have me do?" asks Major General White.

The President sighs and decides to stop badgering the Major General. Besides, it is clear to the President that the men of Task Force Blanco are moving as fast as humanly possible. The only other thing to do now would be to ask for foreign assistance from United Mechodemia or those Carthaginian sellouts. Doing so isn't an option at this point or even in the future. "Very well carry on with your operation, and may Allah favor us with his benevolence."

"Thank you Mr. President," Major General White replies as he turns to his Logistics Officer.

The Logistics Officer nods and continues with his report that was interrupted by the President's call by saying, "Movement of supplies to the forward areas is being hampered by the trails being so rugged. We've alleviated much of this by airdropping and helicopters. At the current rate of operations we'll have to consider pulling some of our machines off flight duty at some point in the future. Too many hours in the air without proper maintenance."

"The rest of the MI-8s from down south should be arriving tonight. We'll rotate machines and crews off flight duty to get the choppers serviced," observes the Major General.

"I figured as much, I've already drawn up orders with a timetable," responds the Logistical Officer.

"Good work, anything else that I need to know?"

"Red Two is ready for refugees. We've set up the last of the tents and rounded up the emergency medical department of Port Sudan hospital and drafted them for the duration of this emergency under the Presidential Emergency War Powers act."

"Heh, I bet they hated that," laughs the Major General.

"Most did, but on the whole everyone seems willing to do their bit to help out over at Red Base Two. The humanitarian mission appeals to them," replies the Logistics Officer.

"Good, carry on then," orders the Major General as he turns his attention to other matters.

[Subtleknifewielder]

OOC: Don't mind if I do.

IC: ...except there were no guards. Not only were there no guards in sight, they could clearly see that some who had been on guard duty were dead. The mansion was on fire, a number of trucks were being loaded with what looked like weapons and ammo...and apparently the slaves had managed to arm themselves...no, wait, there were clearly several with caucasian skin tones in among them, equally armed and helping just as much with what seemed to be looting. They couldn't be sure.

A little recon was needed before the approached these people...and speaking of an opportunity, a bedragled-looking figure was unkowingly approaching their position. An older African man, he appeared to be a slave that had escaped whatever was happening down there.

Having known the terrain ahead of time meant they had the chance to put on the appropriate camflage...so the firt the poor ex-slave knew of them, he was surrounded by three soldiers in combat fatigues, clearly not Sudanese, but also clearly not kickapoo. The tanned skin tones was too dark for them to be called white, but not quite dark enough to be African. These three were descendents of clearly mixed heritage. One of them addressed the slave in the native language, a heavy English accent showing in his otherwise fluent speech.

"What is happening down there?"