It had been a week since the restrictions were introduced and by then the bunk room were significantly more cramped now that the number of soldiers in it doubled. 2nd Platoon had shifted all their bunks closer together and to one side, while 4th Platoon carried all their bunks and placed them in the available space. All the lockers holding personal effects were crammed against walls and stacked two high.

The luxury of small units getting their own rooms was now gone, with the massive influx of soldiers needing more and more space. Several larger rooms were being converted from their recreation purposes to additional barracks, and there were plans made to expand into the surface, and have several pressurized barracks along the airfield. The additions seemed unnecessary to Harry, only serving to increase the target size in his opinion. But he wasn’t in charge so they were planned and prepared.

In this time the losses the air assault team had taken had been replaced, a quick school undertaken by a few chosen applicants. They would be joining the platoon and acting as a full new squad, the more veteran troops getting shunted into other squads. Gordon had since recovered from his wounds and rejoined the platoon in drills.

Harry was currently being briefed on the upcoming mission, the week of preparation having flown by fast. Drills were made on how they would be breaching and capturing the compound, a rough mock up of the buildings having been constructed.

The structures were to be hit by several bombs dropped in an air strike, opening up holes in the facility and hopefully disorienting the insurgents inside. From there the air assault company would move in, one platoon providing overwatch while the other three breached and captured the facility. Harry’s platoon would be entering through a hole made in the armory, blasted open by the airstrike.

From there they would press in and clear the center building, which should have also been hit by an explosive. The armory was not to be left unguarded, so one squad would stay behind while the rest stormed the building across the alleyway. From there they would extract as much information, files, and prisoners as reasonably possible.

Once the company finished their briefing, they were dismissed to finish their preparations for the upcoming raid. Everybody went to the armory, and went through the long and arduous check out process. Full plate and Kevlar armor were put on, Kevlar pieces strapped onto legs and arms, and place carriers resting on chests. Pistols were cleaned and holstered, rifles prepped and loaded. Knives were polished and sheathed. Grenades clipped to belts and chests. Soldiers strapped, tapped and balanced magazines and extra ammunition anywhere that fit.

Harry walked out into the hanger in a throng of soldiers, and could see five Blackhawks and a Chinook idling in the hanger. One of the Blackhawks, Black Sun-5, were set up to have missile hard point extending from it’s side, sacrificing some troop transport capability for fire support. Nearby two F-15s were being loaded with munitions for their upcoming air strikes. The old, reliable planes were just about all Nevixico had, still remaining in service after hundreds of years.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Harry climbed into a Blackhawk with his squad and Berisho’s squad. He was sat in the middle, waiting for take off. A kind of nervous energy was building in his chest, bouncing about and making him jittery. Several other soldiers, Thomas, and Mcnab, for example, were also fidgeting and constantly changing the targets of their eyes.

Everybody, showing their nervousness or not, was as ready as possible for the upcoming mission. There was a strange comfort in Harry, underlying the rebounding nervousness, that regardless of what happens next he was prepared for it. It didn’t give him confidence, just reassurance. Reassurance that it would work out eventually.

Soon everything was squared away, ammunition loaded, jets and helicopters fueled, soldiers crammed into transports. First the helicopters spooled up, blades spinning faster and fast till they, one by one, slowly lifted off the ground and banked towards the coordinates of the compound. The jets idled out onto the runway, preparing to take off.

The helicopters flew for nearly and hour, bobbing through the valleys and close the ground. They shot past a small village, it’s crops withering under the unrelenting desert sun. Various animals were scattered about, dodging from shadow to shadow and dug out to dug out, trying to avoid the harsh sun. Even after the Gas mutated them they remained adverse to heat.

Harry was gripping his rifle, his nervousness rising. Rising. Mounting. This wasn’t like the last mission, a simple go fetch gone wrong. This was a ‘go and kill them’ mission. Something Harry, nor the rest of his unit really, if you thought long and hard of it, had done before. Sure there were the ‘go scare these angry villagers’ or the ‘hunt the mutants to protect the villagers’ but never any direct ‘go and kill them’ mission, thought Harry, his anticipation making him more philosophical than normal.

Over the radio crackled Harry’s Captain, informing everybody that they were nearly there and the airstrike would hit soon. Then the inside of the helicopter was lit up. Harry was blinded, the sudden light searing his retinas. He and countless others shouted and screamed as they lost vision.

Through the din of confusion, a pilot’s calm voice cut in, “Command, this is Black Sun-1, Black Sun-3 was intercepted by a a missile, over.”

Harry was snapped out of his confusion, and leaned over to the windows, trying to spot anything outside. The left side just had normal desert and helicopters. The right? A cloud of smoke and flaming debris scattered across the earth. The husk of the helicopter was glowing orange as flames engulfed it. The cockpit wasn’t visible, flattened and dug into the sandy earth. A trail of smoke from what a hidden dugout, only existing shortly in Harry’s view before a missile from Black Sun-5 burst through it, throwing chunks of sand and what looked to be limestone into the air.

The helicopter Harry was in banked hard, diving towards the ground. “Change of plans everybody, we’re disembarking here. They knew we were coming.” Shouted the pilot, leveling out just above the ground.

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Nearby this messy situation the two fighter jets climbed and prepared for their first pass of the targets.

In the compound itself insurgents rushed about, preparing defenses, building barricades and burning documents. Their rushed actions focusing around the center building and the entrances.