I woke up to the sound of music, still lying in a random bed I found. I checked the clock, '4:23 am.'
Dammit, where is that music coming from? I got up, still dressed in my combat gear, and walked into the hall. Luckily enough, it was pretty quiet everywhere except the room a few doors down from mine.
I knocked once, twice, and then just kicked the large wooden door in, leaving me face-to-face with Ethan, who was currently shirtless and messing with a small iPod.
"So I can explain," Ethan immediately started, before I shut the door in his face. I had lost all interest in the noise and the room, for one reason or another.
Seller was standing not too far, resting against the staircase with a blank expression on her face, seemingly waiting for us to finish so we could go on the move.
"Alan," She nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder before continuing. "Got word back to command, they seem to agree it's a concern, at least for now. Most soldiers are to clean the buildings, a few others are going on one last sweep before we move forward."
"Alright, ma'am. I'll take a look around and do what I can," I responded, getting a nod as I left for the stairs.
Admittedly, I had no interest in cleaning. None. Zero. So, I ended up with a group of pretty damn well dressed marines, each clutching a M27 IAR with either a M18 pistol strapped to their thigh, or a M9 Beretta, essentially a compact pistol with a bigger punch that the standard M18.
The tent outside was flapping wildly in the wind as the sky darkened, covering the broken city in a layer of fog with the scent of mist in the air. A storm was brewing, not the best weather for travel, but we didn't have much choice anymore.
"Everyone listening?" I asked, getting a row of nods from the Second Marine Regiment as they stood in front of the small table. A map, albeit crude, was in front of us showing the lines between the five miles we'd be covering before heading back and giving the all-clear for move.
"Good. We'll be moving five miles out, no further, no shorter. We have to wrap this up in less than two hours. I'll lead this group along with Sergeant Eli. Do not break formation. Proceed as if every goddamn tree is an enemy, understood?"
I got a few nods along with a few 'yes, sirs.' That word irked me a bit, being called 'sir,' anyway.
Sergeant Eli gave me a handshake before we left, kinda cool. Except his codename was Jackie, I figured out why much later.
We left through the temporary checkpoint that was set up, around .3 klicks from the buildings we were staying in, placed between two destroyed walls.
The two soldiers guarding gave a small salute as we left, one of them looking more nervous than I was. His eyes were trembling, struggling to listen to me as I detailed where we were going and how long, but despite that, we proceeded forward.
I wanted to lead the team for recon, not just to get out of cleaning duty, but also to fortify our trip and ensure we'd be safe for the trek.
"Hey, Alan, got a sec?" Eli asked, grabbing my shoulder as the soldiers followed closely behind us. We had barely left the city, scoping out the relatively flat outsides.
The street was already crumbling beneath us, roads cracked and full of potholes, and the smell of something burning was far worse than the city.
"Yeah, what's up?" I questioned, raising my clenched fist for everyone to hold still.
"I think someone is keeping track of us; not that I have solid grounds for proof, but I keep seeing a figure off in the fog. They don't look armed, but it'd be good to check it out."
I nodded, not saying a word as I raised my M4A1 Carbine and peered through the scope. The fog made it hard to see much, but there was movement. He had just caught on before I had.
Not too far off in the distance, a figure was poking through a thin forest, weaving in and out around trees. They were familiar with the terrain at the very least, which could be a great help. Except the damn fog got worse and not long after we stopped they disappeared.
Slowly, I lowered my hand and shot forward with two fingers. Keep quiet, move silently, and get whatever the hell was moving. Pretty simple signal to follow.
One of the marines from Eli's side paused, staring through his scope, when a loud shot came through the fog. He fell over, a sea of red over his face. He had died.
"GET DOWN! IT'S AN AMBUSH!" I ordered, ducking into a small ditch. Luckily, there were plenty spread out around us, not bad for a country prone to rainfall.
Another shot came out, this time digging into the ground not too far ahead of me, kicking up a cloud of brown dirt and clumps of green grass.
"EVERYBODY STAY DOWN!" Eli shouted, diving next to me as more shots echoed around us.
We weren't too far from the city, maybe three miles out at worst. The only issue was that the fog would make it hard to identify our enemies and get reinforcements from our allies. Talk about a double wammie.
"Call for backup, now!" I ordered, rolling over and taking up a small position over the arc of dirt in front of us.
The treeline was barely visible in the distance, the fog rolling in quicker than before as it got colder. I shivered slightly, my breath now visible in front of my face.
A chill shot up my spine as, through the scope, I could see dozens of figures start to appear. Maybe half a dozen figures, each racing through the thin forest and getting gradually closer to us.
"THIS IS TEAM RECON, WE'RE UNDER FIRE. THREE MILES OUT, NORTHEAST, I REPEAT WE ARE UNDER FIRE!" Eli pushed the button on his vest, linking him up to comms as he gripped his weapon.
Another shot came from the fog, blowing the helmet off a marine attempting to spot them through the scope on an M110A1 CSASS. Pretty much a semi-automatic sniper rifle.
His helmet flung back, the chin strap broken and stained red. His body tumbled into the ditch further. We had barely eleven people left, including me. Facing possibly upwards of a dozen hostiles.
Shit luck follows me everywhere in life, huh?
The thought was kinda dark, but I was pinned in the ditch, barely able to see, and relying on a weapon that was never meant to play the part of a sniper rifle. Dark humor was my lifeline.
"Eli, get your ass over here, lift my pantleg, and take the kit. Use it to help the wounded, I'll get us out of here," I ordered, letting him take it before looking back through my scope.
Three people were charging us, not wearing any sort of body armor, but the helmets said it all. A sticker of two griffins, one holding a sword, and the other holding a wreath, was on every one of their helmets. Russian soldiers.
"Alan, I have some really fucking bad news!" Eli shouted above the gunfire from our side as a bullet flew through the chest of one of the approaching soldiers. One shot was all he needed.
"If it's worse than this, hold off on it!" I yelled back, bullets blasting into the dirt in front of me.
The scent of iron hung heavy in the air, replacing the smell of mist. The darkened sky turned blacker, removing all trace of daytime despite it being eight am at the latest. Another bullet exploded from my chamber as time seemed to slow, and pierced through one of their legs.
A heavy fog escaped my lips, a chill coming over my back, stabbing me in the heart. This was it, if we didn't hurry up, there wouldn't be any of us left alive.
"Alan, reinforcements will take almost thirty minutes," Eli said, hugging his rifle tighter as his arm ricocheted back with every shot fired.
More figures appeared in the fog, approaching faster. We weren't prepared for a full-scale assault, let alone a mini war of its own. I had maybe two frag grenades on me, if I was lucky, another two mags. If.
I threw a magazine aside, already emptied, and slammed another in the chamber. My carbine flew over my back as I raised my KRISS Vector, spraying the approaching figures in the chest.
Floods of blood escaped from their chests, leaking as hot iron flew around the field. With every two hostiles that fell, another five replaced them, only getting closer to us.
"We need to find an opening and pull the fuck back!" I shouted over the iron shower.
Luckily, they all heard me. Unluckily, we were being sprayed by heavy gunfire and had no opening.
Fuck it, fuck it, I can do this. I'm a goddamn SEAL, I'm a goddamn SEAL!
With that pleasant thought, I slowly moved to the left toward the edge of the ditch. Around the time I grabbed the concrete of the road, Eli looked at me and realized what I was doing.
"ALAN!"
It was already too late, I gripped the asphalt, and launched myself onto the road.
Bullets sprayed harder than before, and I'm pretty sure all of the luck I would ever get in my lifetime was used, but I somehow wasn't hit while taking cover behind a large rock on the other side. Now I had one chance to lighten the enemy, no pressure.
I unclipped a frag grenade, ripped out the pin, and held onto the spoon, pretty much the safety lever. One shot, one throw, fucking hell.
I tossed the grenade as hard as I could, basically doing one of the things instructors will shout your head off for, throwing one like a goddamn fastball.
1
It spiraled through the air, passing the ditch.
2
It bounced off the other side of the asphalt.
3
Slowly, it rolled to a stop, right in front of the approaching troops.
A small pop sounded loudly, blowing a small leak of smoke around the battlefield, but more soldiers than I hoped to get had dropped dead from the shrapnel.
"FUCKING RUN!" I shouted, spraying the newly panicked enemy soldiers with a line of gunfire so hot it'd make Satan blush. More dropped, one less shadow in the fog, then another, and then another soldier fell.
I dropped the emptied mag and gripped my last one, slamming it into the chamber and taking aim one final time. Well, talk about a blaze of glory. I'm pretty damn sure I'm the only soldier to skip cleaning duty and wind up cleaning the battlefield.
Bullets flew from my last mag for the Vector, and I was already out for my Carbine, so realistically, my chances of survival went from low to zero. How lovely.
"Yo, Casper! Duck," A voice shouted from behind me, I recognized it quite well, since he was one of the few soldiers I got along pretty damn well with.
Bullets sprayed from behind me as the fog slowly started to part, the sky lightening up. I watched as empty casings poured from the machine gun, the very gun he insisted in bringing because it was big as shit and looked the same.
Three stands were below it, shaking wildly as more casings flew out. His arms jittered back and forth, shaking with the weight of the beautiful, destructive beast. Officially deemed the M2A1 Browning .50 cal, but we referred to it as the Love-breaker, because it could realistically destroy anything in its way. Including Russians, as we just found out.
"Ethan, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!" I shouted, smiling as the hostiles retreated into the fading fog.
"HELL YE-E-E-EAH C-C-CASP-P-PER!" He yelled back, smiling as his teeth rattled with the massive behemoth placed on the road.
I sank against the rock, still smiling as Humvees rolled up, along with a pair of guys best described as the best-looking drunks and friendliest-looking soldiers, yet also the nastiest-looking people you'd ever see. The goddamned Irish forces had finally arrived. Hooyah assholes.
Ethan extended his arm to me, and I took it without a second thought, rising to stand above the ten of us who survived the onslaught. Three soldiers, as brave as any survivors ever forged, had fallen in battle. Worst of yet, I failed to save them in time.
Dammit, if I was any faster-
"ALAN!" A voice rose above the rest, slapping me hard across the head. Seller stood behind me, her arms folded, and her eyes a bright shade of reddish-green. Maybe I was imagining the red, but she was pissed. Really pissed.
"I distinctly remember you saying you'd see what needed to be done. Instead! You went off with the patrol team, ignored cleaning duties, and almost got yourself fucking killed!"
Ethan backed off slowly, joining the other soldiers as Seller yelled at me louder.
"THE FUCKING SECOND WE GET TO THE NEXT FOOTHOLD, YOUR ASS IS MINE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything as she walked off to ask the other soldiers what had happened. A few of the Irish forces stared at me, their mouths wide open. Maybe they were shocked, maybe they expected ale to rain from the sky, hell if I knew.
"Well, at least we dealt a good blow to the enemy?" Ethan asked, the sentence barely slipping out before he retreated to hear the story from the marines present.
Eli gave me a small wave and joined them.
As everyone walked off, I glanced around at the blood on the field and set out to work. Using the SRK knife in my side holster to cut some cloth and wrap the bodies of the three fallen soldiers in it. Separately, of course.
I had bright red blood stains on my boots and gloves by the time I finished, at least more than I usually had. Nobody came near me as Seller pulled Eli and Ethan aside separately, finishing her talk with the other survivors.
Rain finally started to pour as the rest of us got in Humvees, carrying the fallen soldiers with us. Planes would be here in the morning with more reinforcements, as I was told, so it was probably best we managed to get vehicles.
The drive to Castell Dinefwr didn't take as long as it would have to walk, and luckily for us, we didn't run into any more soldiers on the way there.
"Damn, so this is what it feels to be rich," Ethan commented, grabbing a piece of the crumbled rock and dropping it back down. "Best feeling ever my ass."
"Alan. Follow me, now," Seller commanded, and I followed. It was probably about time she yelled at me anyway, I essentially botched the whole recon operation because I didn't notice the people following us fast enough. Three more deaths were on me.
She led me up a small ladder in the corner, navigating the area with surprising ease. Although she probably had already seen schematics of the Castell, most likely long before anyone else.
Seller sat down on the wall, glaring at me while the sun shone directly into her green irises. They glowed an emerald green, and more yelling came from below, mostly the groups of soldiers joking around since this was technically our first break in ours.
She sighed loudly, inhaling a fresh breath of air, before finally speaking.
"Alan, I just- What the fuck were you thinking?" She finally questioned. Her anger had mostly disappeared, except for the god-killing death glare she was giving me.
The other guys, Dan especially, weren't kidding about her temper. When she got mad, she got mad, real fucking mad.
"I saw an opportunity to help soldiers, I didn't expect the operation would go south as it did. Ma'am," I answered, looking into her eyes as sweat dripped from my forehead and slid down my chin.
"I don't give two shits about the recon operation going south, that was unavoidable. It would have happened with or without your guidance. Besides, they already testified that the only reason they got out was your quick thinking."
I paused, my eyes widening as she stared at me. If she wasn't pissed about three marines losing their lives, then what? Did I step on an ant she took a liking to or something?
"May I ask why you're angered by an action of mine, then?" I questioned, speaking carefully to prevent pissing her off for the second time. That was hard, my only special talent was pissing people off, pretty obvious too.
"Did you seriously think I wouldn't find out about you beating the shit out of a marine for something he did?"
I stopped completely, even my sweat froze as my eyes widened. Not like I didn't expect her to find out, I just thought I'd have time for an excuse. Oops, I guess.
"I expected you to," I finally said, avoiding her gaze and finding a special interest in the rock the Castell was constructed of.
"Do not fight my battles for me, Andrews. Get out of my sight, next time I will reprimand you, understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
I turned around and walked down the ladder, my face slightly red. I hated being reprimanded, sure, and this was better. But there was always a part of me that hated disappointing people more, and that was exactly what I did with her.
I trudged around the Castell, occasionally pausing to stare into the open fields. We wouldn't be raided, at least, that was always a plus. Especially considering I had just gone through two phases of ass-kicked warfare.
More fog rolled in far in the distance, covering the trees and ground in a thick layer of dark gray. The air turned stale, getting harder to breathe as fog trickled from my mouth in a sharp exhale.
There was this small feeling, almost insignificant, yet I had an inkling the next day wouldn't bring anything pleasant. Especially because we had already lost almost forty soldiers in this operation alone. Operation: Albion's Crown. Better known as our goal to reclaim the United Kingdom, get the Russian general, and kidnap his son.
"Alright! Gather up!" Seller shouted from below, drawing everyone's attention as she continued. "Tomorrow we move to the border of the United Kingdom and London, this will not be an easy in-and-out as some of us are used to! The Castell is marked as Foothold Two and our previous arrangement, Foothold One! Under no circumstances do we let the Russians get here, understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Everyone shouted together, including me, as I stared at the approaching fog.
How many of us will lose our lives before this is over? I thought, wandering down to meet Ethan, Eli, and Seller together.