Peter eyes roved over the maps spread across the table studying the already well scouted routes that would lead them to the compound of the redeemers. He let his head lie on the table for a minute, almost wishing for silence. The roar of engines was now a background drone but it still grated on his nerves. Cameron waved a cup of coffee underneath the marine’s nose and he took the cup with a grunt of thanks, “How much further?”
Cameron shrugged, “Another few hours before we reach what reconnaissance said was their farthest ranging patrol route. Don’t worry. They are not going to know what hit them until their walls are crumbling around them.”
“What I want to know is where you find people who could drive the IFVs,” said Peter between sips.
“They’re pretty easy to drive. Hardest part was trying to get them started. We kept looking for keys when all we actually had to do was charge the batteries, fill the gas tank and then push the little red button. After that, it is like driving a car, so long as you remember that you’ve got a dual joystick setup and automatic transmission.”
Peter eyed one of the six M2 Bradley Infantry Fighting Vehicles that currently flanked them. Each was a heavily armored transport with a devastating array of supportive firepower ranging from a 25mm chain gun backed by coaxially mounted 7.62mm machine guns. What made the Bradley IFV so deadly were the massive BGM 72 TOW missiles to break the walls of Shasta Lake.
The Redding Peacemakers were in position before dusk thanks to the work of the advance teams that had cleared the necessary areas of both the walking dead and the few random Redeemer patrols. Final preparations were made, the mortars unshipped and readied to fire as the snipers, cloaks wrapped around their shoulders vanished in to the night to find suitable positions. Finally the Peacemakers were in position just before dawn.
Cameron had his doubts, not so much about what they were doing or even why they were doing it. But he was wondering whether or not all of this was going to be worth it. Cameron shook his head and pushed those thoughts and doubts, “All units: Report readiness.”
“Sniper teams have targets ranged and sights set.”
“Artillery: Locked loaded and ready to fire”
“Spotter's in position!”
“Sharpshooters: Weapons free!” ordered Cameron.
The chorus of acknowledgments was just overture to the Peacemaker’s symphony. Peter acknowledged and the United States Marine Corps marksman began to take aim. Peter’s M107 Barrett Special Application Scoped Rifle was loaded with Raufoss Mk.211 .50 Caliber BMG rounds. The firepower in his hands could destroy a lightly armored vehicle with one shot. The sentries atop the walls in Shasta Lake City had less armor than a vehicle.
“One just below and to the left of the second guard tower from the right,” said Peter to himself, relishing the anticipation of the kill. Peter’s first shot cut through the man’s vest like a knife through wet paper as the pyrotechnic charge at the base of the tungsten steel armor piercing core detonated, sending fire and shrapnel in an arc of death.
There were at least a dozen targets still standing and the sharpshooters had no qualms, picking them off with single shots that broke the night’s silence with pronouncements of doom. There was a crack as another sentry was taken by a bullet through the neck. He stopped in midstride before he slumped to the ground like a knocked over statue.
All along the walls, men dropped in to cover behind the wall’s parapet, reacting faster than expected to the presence of snipers which meant one of two things: They were well trained or hopefully they just had good instincts, “No target,” hissed Peter as he adjusted his scope for a wider view of the walls, and then zoomed in on the exposed shoulder. He lined up the shot and adjusted through his scope one and a half inches to the right. Raufoss rounds were capable of defeating light vehicle armor and the bullet punched through the wall with ease. He was blown upright long enough for Peter to see the gaping chest hole before he fell backwards.
In the first minute of the battle, the sharpshooters accounted for exactly twenty-two confirmed enemy kills in the opening two minutes of the engagement. “Zeus! Fourth tower from the left, heavy weapon position!” the voice snapped through the radio in to Peter’s ear and he acknowledged it, adjusted his aim and fired. The shot ripped through one of the four legs that held the tower upright. It swayed unsteadily on three legs for a moment until another of its legs were severed allowing gravity to do its worst as the tower collapsed. Peter grinned evilly from behind his rifle, “Zeus to Control: Walls clear.”
“Control – Zeus. Acknowledge! Cameron switched channels on the radio, “Control – Hammer: Judgment!”
Mortars have existed for hundreds of years in many different forms, but the basic principle was the same. A man portable artillery system composed of a long tube with a firing pin at the base. The pin would ignite the propellant charge of whatever projectile is dropped down the tube, launching the projectile at a high arching ballistic trajectory. Initially a dozen 120mm mortars darkened the sky before whistling a warning as they crashed in to the wall and ground on both sides of the structure.
Wave after wave of artillery rained down upon the Redeemer’s compound until buildings broke and shattered beneath the deadly rain. An orange glow lit up the sky, accompanied by short contrails of smoke that twisted skywards. Another wave of artillery smashed in to the compound sending clouds of fire and smoke skyward as shrapnel screamed across the compound, partially successful in finding human flesh amongst the Blessed Redeemers.
In truth, there was no way to tell what exactly the Peacemaker assault must have been like for any member of the Blessed Redeemers. Brother Joseph had been on his way to the canteen for breakfast when one of his brothers atop the wall exploded in a ball of light and fire before plummeting from the top of the wall.
His bone crunching collision attracted everyone’s attention in one direction. They were shaken to the man as a roar split the silence, followed seconds later by a second brother. A second roar broke the predawn stillness and it shattered the stunned awe as another ball of fire erupted and a third brother fell to his death.
Brother Joseph realized what was going on before anyone else, “Snipers! Down brothers!” his warning came too late as another brother plummeted. But the rest reacted quickly enough, ducking behind cover even as Joseph head swiveled to the northern reaches of the compound, “Sound the alarm! Sound the alarm! We are under attack!” Joseph blinked in surprise as one of his brothers in cover suddenly jerked upright, blood and entrails spilling out his chest before he toppled to the ground. The draconian roar split the silence and yet again.
It broke the silence twice more and Joseph, along with his gathered brothers could only watch as first one then a second supporting leg of the nearest guard tower snapped. With a groan like a dying ogre, the tower crashed down, shaking the ground, claiming several more lives in the process.
Chaos engulfed the compound as men streamed from the numerous buildings, towards the walls. That was when he heard it for the first time. The high pitched whistling that preceded the arrival of a wave of missiles that screamed down, hammering against the wall, the ground and several buildings. The ground shook as the earth beneath their feet was thrown skywards. Several buildings began to burn as the barrage continued without rest. Joseph could only stare stupidly, his gaze towards the heavens as a shell landed and blew him through the air.
He landed with a sickening crunch, and was barely able to prop himself up as he stared in disbelief, another wave throwing even more of his brothers through the air. Deaf and dazed he struggled to stand only to cough up a lungful of blood, before a wave of dizziness and darkness overwhelmed him.
The sudden and brutal assault left the army of the Blessed Redeemers reeling. Cameron had no way of seeing through the walls, but as the fires burned and lit up the dawn sky, the sun rising to their backs, the message came from their Artillery Captain, “Judgment Day.” Two words that Cameron acknowledged, “Advance!” he barked.
The order reached Robert and the other drivers, sending half a ton of tracked armor and firepower towards the freshly abandoned walls. It was flat open ground and Robert slowed the Fortress, executing the wide turn that would allow them to pick up the Artillerymen, they task complete. The six Bradley IFVs closed to within three hundred meters as the last barrage of the artillery rained down upon the wall, punching shallow craters in to the wall and shallow craters in the soft earth.
From each of the gathered and stopped IFV’s, a single hatch popped, a woman carrying the necessary spotting laser from the IFV gunners. Within seconds, the six gunners had the target point marked and unleashed their first wave of twelve BGM 71 TOW – Tube launched-Optically targeted-Wire guided – missiles. The missiles raced through the narrow expanse even as they set about reloading the massive missile launchers.
They streaked across the narrow expanse and hammered the expanse of wall, throwing up a curtain of broken stone and dust. Cameron cursed as the fog of war descended upon that particular section of the battlefield. He couldn’t see through that cloud and he could not be sure. But he had to be, “Bradley: Broadside!” he ordered.
It was quiet for almost a minute, “What the holdup people?” growled Cameron. In response, another wave of missiles lanced out, homing in and, this time the four kilogram warheads found purchase, tearing open a twenty foot scar, reducing the wall to rubble.
They had spent a week at Parks base, preparing for exactly this moment, when the tide could turn the quickest against the Peacemakers and Cameron breathed a sigh of relief as the IFVs, crunched over the rubble and in to the breach. Even in the distance, Cameron could see the glint and flicker of bullets deflecting off vehicle armor.
The Peacemaker’s troop transports returned fire, the machine guns and 25mm cannon tearing holes through men and buildings alike as they closed the distance. The Redeemers engaging the IFVs showed no lack of courage against the armored behemoths that their bullets could not harm.
Peter and the rest of his sharpshooters were the occupants of the lead IFV in the brazen charge. They came to a halt, the guns of the vehicle blazed away. Hatches facing the rear, away from the enemy dropped open on the six IFVs. Almost fifty armed and armored men and women that sought cover amongst the rubble.
Behind the engaged squads of Peacemaker infantry, the Fortress pulled in to place, blocking off the breached wall as its own doors slammed open. Bullets swept back and forth, as the rest of the Peacemaker leaped on to the battlefield. Several fell to enemy fire even and the IFV’s 25mm cannons returned the damage with interest, gouging chunks of masonry from occupied structure. The air was heavy with the twin smells of sulfur and cordite from gunpowder. Smoke hung over the embattled compound like a joyless carpet. The shrill scream caught them by surprise and the hesitated. Peter was the first to identify and react to the threat with a scream, “Suicide bomber!”
His rifle came around, seemingly of its own accord, not even aiming as he held down the trigger. The rifled bucked and jerked in his hands as three round burst after burst slammed in to the man’s chest. Time slowed, and Peter swore that he could mark the passage of every bullet that cut through the air. He screamed to those around him and in to his radio for them to fall back towards the Fortress for cover as near demonic screaming reached their line seconds before more suicide bombers emerged from the smoke like wraiths from nightmares.
Fire consumed the Peacemaker’s vehicles sending knife like shrapnel through the air, claiming warriors on both sides while others were blown back by the shockwave of the blasts as stores of ammunition aboard the IFVs cooked off. Cameron had been blown off his feet, and was struggling to regain his footing, and clear his head when he was rudely shoved down. He twisted, landing on his ass instead of on his face. He acknowledged the timely intervention that saved his life as the corpse of a suicide bomber riddled with bullets fell just out of reach.
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