"What do you mean, we've lost comms?!" Sky-Captain Victoria Van Kilmer slammed her fist down on the railing of her command dais. The sky-carrier Cry Havoc hovered over the horizon, 20 nautical miles away from Kotlin island.
"All radio communications are being jammed." Reported the chief sensors operator. "We can still communicate with the Iron Heart and nearby aircraft via laser-link, but none of our assets over the island or on it can be raised. We've lost our overhead drone coverage as a result."
"How is that possible?" She asked.
"We don't know, Captain. But you should hear this." The sensor tech nodded to his subordinate, who adjusted some settings on her panel. The sound that filled the bridge was not the typical static noise used by radio frequency jammers. It sounded like two rusty iron bars being scraped together to the background of human screaming. Everyone on the bridge flinched at the sound. Captain Kilmer quickly ordered it silenced.
"Very well." She took the situation in stride and gave her orders. "Signal the Iron Heart to hold position. We'll fly in close to the island and establish a laser link with the landing force. Signal the air wing and AWACS Longbow to keep their distance until we're able to neutralize the threat."
The sky-carriers engines burned hard and Cry Havoc surged forward towards Kotlin.
"Vampire! Vampire! Vampire!" the TAO shouted from the carriers CIC. "Multiple inbound missiles. Tracking 4-correction- 6-... twelve contacts. ETA 4 minutes out. ID'd as 'Shipwreck' Russian ASMs."
Red dots appeared on the tactical display. A lot of anti-ship missiles had been launched from Kotlin and were homing in on the Havoc. The risk of ASMs bring fired from the ships anchored at Kotlin was considered minimal, considering their crews were likely dead and the vampires couldn't possibly have the expertise or manpower to use the deadly weapons.
The TAO added, "More missiles being launched. Second wave consists of 13 missiles. We have total twenty-five inbound vampires."
"Hard to starboard! Launch countermeasures and prepare counter battery!" Kilmer commanded. The helmsman/pilot threw the wheel and carrier heeled heavily as it turned suddenly. Kilmer put the incoming missiles on the beam, to bring the most point-defense cannons to bear against the threat. Interceptor missiles lifted from their launchers on either side of Cry Havoc, quickly accelerating at supersonic speeds to kill the inbound missiles before they could hit Cry Havoc. Some of the anti-ship missiles were impacted and exploded bright fireballs, others succumbed to active electronic-warfare measures and simply fell harmlessly into the sea. Those that made it through were greeted by a wall of automatic cannon fire and exploded close aboard, rocking the ship violently but doing no damage.
"Enemy is continuing to launch." the TAO updated the plot with even more contacts. "Counterbattery is ready and locked."
"Launch counterbattery salvo!" Kilmer snapped with enthusiasm.
Cry Havoc launched her own anti-ship missiles while continuing to intercept those fired at her. She was going to have to fight to get in close.
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Standoff 7 of the of Standoff Array erected itself until it was pointing 90 degrees directly upwards. The cannon was as tall as a skyscraper. Its six brethren sat in a circle around it with their barrels pointed skyward, but not vertically like number 7. The artificial islands were all linked by large causeways. The aft end of the cannon lay submerged beneath the oceans surface, its heatsinks taking in relatively cool seawater as the cannon charged to full power. After several seconds of silent charging, the cannon fired. Its barrel erupted like a lightning bolt as a railgun dart lifted into the sky and disappeared into orbit in the blink of an eye. The recoil from the massive gun caused its semi-free-floating platform to bob in the water. A massive shockwave expanded outward, disturbing the sea and sky for miles around. The sea boiled around the base of the cannon as it vented excess energy and heat. A calm, almost disinterested, voice made an announcement, "All hands, secure from test fire. Test sequence one-three-Tango completed satisfactory."
From a safe distance of 3 miles, defense analyst Amelie Wagner of the Bundeswehr watched the display of power. Her carefully calculated mannerisms prevented her from displaying the awe she felt. She was currently the only member of the U.N delegation present. The rest having returned to their respective countries or the New York assembly. There was an inspection team due to be flown in in a few days to conduct a search for nuclear weapons. The enigmatic Terra Vanguard had denied possessing nuclear weapons, but did not deny having WMDs. What that could possibly mean worried her.
The second reason the German defense analyst was on Salvo was to spy on the Vanguard. That was her true mission. She was employed by the German Bundeswehr, but unawares to them she secretly reported to the American CIA. She also reported to the BND, Deutschland's equivalent to the CIA. Which the CIA did not know about. It was quite a tangled web she had weaved. Regardless, she intended to inform all of them of what intel she could scrape up from the Vanguard. This proved extremely hard.
The usual methods did not work on Salvo. The entire island was locked down tight from an INFOSEC standpoint. Stealing data from computers was a nonstarter because the Vanguard didn't even use standard USB for data transfer. Everything they had used some kind of unique 3-pin connector unlike anything she'd ever seen. She tried planting listening bugs on personnel and in spaces she was granted access to, but something always fried them within a day of being planted. Stealing or copying printed documents also didn't work because the Vanguard didn't use paper documents for anything important. The only documents she had scraped up were user manuals for very basic systems. It was maddening how insulated the personnel were as well. The "Rifles" as the Vanguard referred to them didn't drink, which was odd all by itself, but for her it meant she couldn't even get them drunk enough to spill the beans on anything of interest.
All this frustrated her attempts to learn anything more than what the Terra Vanguard wanted her to. The array that stood before her was a mega structure. It would have taken decades for the most advanced economies in the world to build such a marvel, but the Vanguard had done it in months. Never mind the engineering, but the sheer cost and amount of resources required to build such a machine boggled the mind. Where had the financing, the manpower, the sheer raw materials come from? All questions she sought answers to. She only had one clue. Vague references she had heard from security personnel in passing. They referred to something in the mountains at the center of Salvo island. Some kind of no-go zone that the personnel hated being sent to because of protective gear they were required to wear. They referred to it as "Project Helsing". That was all she had learned.
A woman in a dark blue uniform approached Amelie from behind and leaned on the railing beside her. The woman was blonde with fair skin. She placed a cigarette in her mouth and lit it up with a simple match. Once again, incredibly odd behavior from Vanguard personnel.
"It is impressive, non?" the blonde woman said after taking a long drag from the cigarette. She spoke with a French accent.
"Very." Amelie replied, gazing out at the 7-gun array. "What is its purpose? To shoot down satellites?"
"Oui." the Frenchwoman answered. "It fires giant sabot darts into high orbit and slightly beyond. It ensures nothing can look down on us. It also prevents anything from getting close enough to bombard us from orbit."
"That is a concern?" Amelie frowned.
"It could be." She shrugged.
"Tell me." the blonde discarded her cigarette over the side of the railing and it extinguished in the water. "Is this yours?" She held out a small device the size of a thumbnail. It could easily have been identified as a shirt button. Amelie's hair stood on end. She recognized one of her listening devices. The spy found the Russian approach to being caught quite useful; Deny, deflect, shrug shoulders.
"No." Amelie answered, straight-lipped.
"You are sure? I found it in our communications center after the tour you took a week ago."
"Perhaps it belongs to one of the U.N dignitaries?"
"I saw you drop it."
"It looks like a button to me. I don't think anyone will miss it." Amelie shrugged.
There was a tense, cold, stare between the two women for several seconds.
"You're right, I'm overthinking. It's just a silly button." The blonde shrugged and threw it into the water. "You have a good day, Miss Wagner." she departed, leaving Amelie alone once again. Amelie had not gotten the strange woman's name, nor had she given hers. A chill ran down her spine. That exchange had been a warning.
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That night, Amelie sat awake in the quarters provided by the Vanguard. They were spartan and cheap, similar to a military barracks. Which was fine. The minimalistic building suited her more than the glitzy hotels that U.N representatives usually stayed in. Those made her want to puke from all the lights and snobbery. She pulled on a pair of running shoes and tight black clothes, and headed for the lobby.
"Going out for another late night run, Miss Wagner." a young Junior Rifle asked her, cheerfully. He was the same one that had manned the front desk for the past several nights. The kid was nice and very accommodating of the visitors. He was in the process of reassembling a pistol from it's base components.
"Yes, Brad. I'm still training for that 5k I told you about." she smiled at him.
A more senior Rifle was watching over his shoulder. He not-so-lightly tapped him on the back of his head. "Eyes on the task, Rifle. You have 30 seconds left." he admonished his junior. Brad quickly refocused on putting the pistol back together.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Amelie left the building, which was at the northern edge of Citadel City. She had been going on longer and longer nightly runs for the past several days, getting the lay of the land. Tonight, she intended to venture into the mountains at the heart of the island. It would be rough, but she could handle it. She had tackled harder challenges than running through a jungle. Such as running from the Taliban in the middle of the cold Kandahar nights.
Disappearing into the trees after getting outside the small city wasn't hard. She had brought a small backpack with a compass and a map she had been drawing by observing the terrain whenever she was brought anywhere on the island. She paralleled a road until she was well outside the city, then she suddenly ducked into the jungle. One thing Amelie had learned was that the defenses on Salvo were not digitally automated or centrally controlled. They were always manned and the soldiers manning them executed orders at the direction of a central authority. That way, they could not be hacked or taken over by rogue elements. But information sharing in the battlespace was a necessity for any military. The Vanguard achieved this by using hardwired cables buried in the ground, which snaked all over the island. Amelie had managed to sniff out an access point in the jungle here, one that was used for maintenance. It was a small non-potable water pumphouse well off the main road. It was such a mundane facility to put such an access point into. It was genius. The building wasn't even locked.
She opened the door and strode right in. The space was small. A couple of pipes went in one side and out the other. A large pump hummed smoothly in the center. On the wall was a circuit breaker panel. Amelie removed the cover and peered inside. There were twenty switches, all indicating functions in relation to the pumphouses operation. Except for two, which remaining unmarked. Amelie theorized that these were the two that helped facilitate information sharing between the defense network. Using a screwdriver, she removed the switch covers and exposed the thick wires underneath, which were much more robust than the rest in the cabinet. They were not connected to the fake switches that covered them, and they appeared to be fiber-optics, not copper power cables. Amelie allowed herself a self-satisfied smile. She produced an intercept probe from her pocket and carefully inserted the device into the fiber-optic cable, penetrating its jacketing until it could begin to intercept the individual packets of light that the wire carried. She connected the probe to a smartphone-sized device that was disguised as an MP3 player. Immediately data began scrolling down the screen. Her eyes widened, she had hit the jackpot.
She began committing data to memory as the device downloaded it. Much of the data was technical in nature, reporting things like system status. The first thing that caught her eye was power consumption. The island's were all powered by a massive reactor facility. She found values for its total output, which was eye-watering, and where it was going. Several large numbers caught her eye. The Standoff Array consuming so much was no surprise, nor the Stingray facility for the carriers or the island's defenses. Instead, she noticed a large number that was consuming 25% of the total reactor output. That was not just one reactor, but all three; plus a number of tertiary power sources. The system consuming so much power was only listed with a codename: Helsing. The amount of power it consumed appeared to fluctuate wildly. She tried to query the system for details but found none. So she decided to look downstream. She found transportation schedules for the island's logistics trucks. Once again, Helsing popped up. This time, it was the largest number by far. More trucks of all types were scheduled to make stops there than anywhere else. Not even the main supply hub or the port required so many vehicles. Amelie felt like she was on the verge of something huge. She should have pulled the probe already, just in case there was a system in place to detect it. But she couldn't stop. She had to get the full story. The sheer amount of data was immense. In under a minute the device's memory was full. Still, she kept searching.
Amelie thought for a second. A massive amount of power was going into Helsing and a massive amount of trucks were leaving. Their destinations were all over the island, but most stopped at the main industrial base of the island, where the Vanguard made its weapons. Wild theories circulated in her head. Perhaps there were submerged tunnels bringing in goods via submarine? Inland submarine tunnels were not unheard of; China had some. Or maybe it was a another large reactor facility that was still under construction and not yet self-sustaining? But that didn't explain the massive power consumption.
She finally accepted that she was out of time. She disconnected and removed the probe.
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Inside his office, Leader-Commander Tambor watched a holographic rendering of the ongoing Battle of Kotlin Island. Ground-Commander Reinstead sat across from him. They both studied the ongoing battle. Reinstead was relaxed, slightly reclined while still casting a calculating eye on the hologram. The sky-carriers were being held back due to the barrage of anti-ship missiles being fired by the anchored ships. The troops on the ground were engaged in a furious melee, as more cultists than the Vanguard had thought possible stormed their lines. The signal jamming was of significant concern. Tambor did not dare direct the battle from his office on the other side of the world. He let the on-scene commanders determine the outcome of the battle. Still, that did not mean he was comfortable to sit back and relax. He studied the map before him with much more concern and focus than Reinstead. He watched with crossed arms and a frown.
Reinstead broke the silence. "Developing super powers, are we?"
"What?" Tambor said, his focus broken.
"You're staring so hard at that map, you might just burn out the projector through sheer force of will." The Prussian officer grinned while stroking his mustache.
Tambor realized how tense he was and relaxed, releasing the built up tension in his muscles. "I am... concerned about how this fight is developing." He sat back in his seat.
Reainstead made a sweeping gesture over the map. "Two carriers, a mechanized battalion, a motorized battalion, two Freikorps regiments, a reinforced airwing and an airborne brigade in reserve. Our boys have them on an open field. The island will be scoured by nightfall." he assured his commander.
"It better. Vampires get their buff at night. Casualties will mount if this takes too long. Much worse, it increases the likelihood of them escaping. We should have been better prepared."
"Nonsense. We are as prepared as we can be." Reinstead admonished him. "You really think the Russians" he said the word with clear distaste. "would have let you stage forces in St. Petersburg? We're lucky this whole thing has paralyzed their military command and they aren't threatening us with nuclear retaliation just for landing on their island."
Tambor nodded. The Ground-Commander was right. "That's a concern as well. We need to secure the cooperation of the powers. We can't do that if their leadership doesn't function."
Tambor finally sat back in his chair, his mind had already formulated a plan based on the contingency they were witnessing. "We need more of this." he said, gesturing to the map.
Reinstead raised an eyebrow, "You want to engage the enemy in the open?"
"Yes. I know there will be collateral. But I don't think the old way will work for much longer."
"It'll be dangerous, and resource intensive." Reinstead warned him. "Stamping out the enemy wherever he shows himself has been effective at containment."
"But I don't want containment." Tambor replied. "That's reactive, we need to be proactive. The only way to do that is lure the enemy into the open." he paused. "I want to crush this threat under our boots."
Reinstead laughed. "You are sure you are not German?"
Tambor smirked. "Please, I have no inclination to ruin Europe a third time."
They both shared a laugh. Tambor laughed despite the subject of his past being one of complete mystery. Vanguard scientists had determined from his speech pattern and DNA that he was an American of West European descent. Other than that, he had no memory or even indications of what he was before he washed up on Salvo Island. Project Helsing held the key. He knew that.
A light buzzed red on Tambor's desk. It was his assistant, Lieutenant Camila. "Sir, ISR wants to see you." She referred to the Vanguard's Spy Master. She was nominally known by the division she headed.
"Send her in." Tambor responded.
"Er, she wants you to come to her, sir. Says she's got baggage." Camila informed him.
Tambor shared a look with Reinstead, who shrugged.
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"It is such a beautiful day." He heard a female voice say. R1C Martinez was escorted by two cult thugs. His entire body hurt, his brain hurt. The only thing that didn't hurt was his left hand, which he couldn't feel at all. His arms and legs were bound by rope, so they dragged him by his shoulders. A sack had been placed over his head. He was placed on his knees on a concrete floor. The voice continued, now speaking directly to him, "A momentous occasion for you and us." He couldn't place the accent. It sounded sinister.
The hood was ripped from his head. Thankfully, he was in a dark place. There was a woman in front of him. She wore Jeans, a black tactical vest and red shades, despite being inside. She had short black hair and didn't appear to be wearing anything substantial underneath the vest. She had pale skin and he could smell her, even though she stood several feet away. She smelled heavily of expensive perfume. A black rat perched on her shoulder, like a trained pet. The woman stepped closer, studying him.
"Mmm, not an ideal specimen." She glanced at his rank tab and frowned. "I would prefer to have had your squad leader, but you appear strong. What is your name?"
"Go to hell." Martinez choked out. His throat was dry and he was having trouble focusing his vision.
"Mmm, no thank you. I chose this path for a reason." She flashed a smile, a set of sharp fangs glistened in what little light there was. "I have escaped death. You, soldier, shall not. Although, you may go to your grave, knowing you did so for a noble cause."
Martinez despaired. Not at his fate, but because he didn't have a grenade to immolate himself and everyone in this room. The vampire placed a finger on his forehead and forced him to look at her her. "The mindflayer did quite the number on you, didn't it?" she slapped him across the face a couple times. "Never the matter. The Queen will not care." She gestured to the guards. "Bring him to the church." The hood was placed back over his head. They began dragging him again.
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Alpha squad ran into a building on the edge of Kronstadt. The area was thoroughly bombed out. They had been dodging heavy enemy patrols for the past hour. Shortly after they lost comms, the cultists started coming out of the freakin' woodwork. Thralls too, and a couple vampires. Caught behind the line, Alpha was forced to run to avoid getting encircled and destroyed be vastly superior enemy forces.
"We are lost." Kurt told Milo.
"How's the magic box?" Milo asked Tetsu, who carried their long range radio.
"The airwaves are still being jammed." the robot reported.
"I thought you frames were supposed to be like super soldiers?" The R2C complained.
Tetsu looked at him, deadpan. "I am operating at 100% capacity. So is the radio. We are experiencing sophisticated jamming from an unknown source. Perhaps you would prefer if I had an integrated radio that the enemy could hack?" the robot was snippy.
"Alright, alright." Milo held up his hands. "Let me think here. Everybody do an ammo check." he ordered.
He looked around the farmhouse they were in. It was a wreck. There were bullet holes, some big enough to be from cannon shells, all over the place.
"Look at this!" Tora called from the other room. They all gathered in the doorway to what must have been the main living space. It was even worse. There were bodies. "One...two...three..." Tora pointed them out. "Three."
"They have Freikorps patches." Milo observed while examining one of the bodies.
Tetsu added his analysis. "These men were killed by conventional firearms. There was a close-quarters struggle."
"Freikorps works in teams of four. Where's the last guy?" Kurt asked.
Only a couple more seconds of examination and they found signs of what happened to him. He had been thrown through a thin wall. They found his rifle and some disturbed dust that looked like somebody had been laying down in it. There was a grenade on the ground with the pin pulled, but the striker handle was still attached. "I ain't never seen anything like that." Carefully, Milo picked up the grenade. The striker handle was being held in place by a cleanly severed hand.
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"The Standoff Array, a formidable installation comprising six heavy railguns, and is assessed to be capable of intercepting high-orbit targets, posing a significant anti-air and anti-orbit threat to any adversarial forces attempting to breach the airspace of the Terra Vanguard. We assess this system to be fully operation." -MI6 Intelligence report