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Location: Acadia, Northeastern Virginia

Day 4: 17:32:26

Field Marshal Alex Tyler West

Tier X Strike Force Echo

The cloudy, two PM sky was blazing with AA fire and Paratroopers as my teams Humvee rolled down the road, behind four others. To my right, a UWR paratrooper landed on the roof of a house and was instantly shot into Swiss cheese by the minguner in front of us. I held my AR-15 at the ready as the gunfire in the distance grew louder the deeper into the suburbs we got. The roads were scattered with the dead bodies of slain UWR Commando's, Civilian militia and US Army Rangers. Trash and smashed guns littered the road and destoried homes as the few people left in the suburbs were putting the heaviest items they could find between themselves and the roads. Close to a four way intersection, a BTR rolled out from behind one of the houses and shot the first Humvee to pieces. The two in front of us came to a dead stop as the guys bailed out, chucking smoke grenades to cover our escape, which, in this cold, were extra effective.

The landscape of war had changed in the 12 years I've served in the US Army. When I joined at the age of 18, combat rigs had just come into the spot light. Containing everything a solider could ever want in the field in a single, self contained suit that was quite lightweight and could change camouflage patters on the fly, they were adopted enmasse by any army that could afford them. Essentially wearable weapons, they shifted the weight of war onto the shoulders of the Infantryman, as a Rig was capable of things that used to require large amounts of man power and equipment. Being climate controlled in even models at the bottom of the gene pool, soldiers could stay in the fight longer without worrying about heat stroke or hypothermia, them being totally air tight and water proof rendered most NBC weapons obsolete, and the fact that they were EMP protected all the way up the ladder meant you couldn't shut them off with grenades or energy weapons, which came out around the same time as a counter measure to combat robots. What few smart weapons were perfected or in development at the time also became obsolete, as Rigs emit a ULF pulse that can jam any smart system around without interfering with other Rigs. War changes, the men and women who fight it change and so do the weapons they use to do it with. Players come and go, but power always finds a place to rest it's head. The US and UWR armies are the most powerful forces in the history of mankind, and here they were again, at each other's throats.

“BTR! GET OUT GET OUT!", a woman in the Humvee behind me shouted.

“Same shit different day", I sighed casually stepping out of the Humvee, just another day at the office, 'team behind the house, get on it's flank!"

My crew and I dismounted our Humvee and used the cover of the smoke to move behind the BTR. Once we were clear, my friend James got onto the radio.

“Overlord this is Disciple Five, we have encountered light enemy armor and are proceeding to crash site on foot, requesting air support, how copy?"

“That's a negative Disciple Five, all available air support is tied up at the moment, additional Delta force units are inbound at this time but they have encountered heavy resistance, over."

“Rodger that", James sighed, “Disciple Five out."

“Marshal", a kid with a shotgun asked from the back, “did overlord just tell us to go fuck ourselves?"

“Watch the language Private", the kid's team leader said.

“Stay off his case Sargent", I said, “we can't be at each other's necks for language, we got a war to fight."

The Sargent nodded, but didn't answer, the Private spoke up again.

“Marshal?", he asked, “are we on our own?"

“Pretty much private", I said, “if we stick together we'll make it though. Just keep your head down and do whatever I or your Sargent tells you to do."

“Yes sir", the private said.

“Keep the gun barrels away from that BTR", I said as it rolled down the street parallel to us, gunning down everyone it could find, “it hasn't acquired us yet."

“We' gon take it out right?", Nitro asked, “we can't just let it mow down civvies like this."

“They'll get theirs, for now, we need to make sure we stay alive long enough to take it out", I said.

We closed two backyards worth of distance before we came to open road. Across the street, the BTR had taken a keen interest in a house that had the tell tale rip of an MG-42 coming from the attic. 20 plus UWR foot mobiles were converging on the house from all directions and were getting shot through the walls as well. I saw someone in civilian clothes appear in the second story window just long enough to chuck a stick of C4 out of it. The stick landed at the feet of a few commandos and then went off, turning about 5 of them into red paste.

“Holy shit", Nitro said as we observed the house, “how come I've never thought of that before?"

“Sound suppressors on", I said screwing the can to the end of my AR-15, “let's see if we can by that guy a few more minutes to live. Trent, get us some cover to cross the street."

Trent nodded and reached into his vest for a smoke grenade. One of the Rangers backed him up with two extras as he tossed it into the street. We waited for a few seconds for the smoke to fill and then moved across the street under the cover of the smoke to avoid fire from the BTR, but of course the commando's notices the smoke cloud and a few of them turned their attention from the house and to us.

“US Infantry in the open behind the white house!", one of the commando's shouted as she flipped a picnic table for cover.

“Copy!", one of the commando's shouted as he and four other guys turned to engage us.

I took my feet out from under myself and hit the dirt. I brought up the ACOG of my rifle and took a shot at the Commando with an M249. The shot was on the money and the round smacked his visor, knocking him down, but not killing him. He hit the floor and responded with a long burst from his machine gun, which forced me to keep my head down just long enough for his buddy to show up and drag him behind the cover of a large AC unit.

“Two hostiles in cover behind the AC unit", I shouted, “use grenades!"

“Frag out!", Nitro shouted tossing a hand grenade across the field. It landed close to the AC unit, but no one noticed it until it had gone off. I only saw one commando actually die to it, but I heard a few others shouting for a medic.

“Push up", I ordered standing up, “rush them and take the house!"

My team moved up as the ranger squad laid down surpressive fire, which kept the commandos out of the fight long enough for us to push up and get area control and engage the commando's who still had their attention focused on the house. I hadn't seen any sign of the man inside the house, which made me think he was gonna let us fight it out and then use more C4 against whoever won the encounter, or was just dead. There was also the possibility that he'd used us as a distraction to slip out and retreat to a secondary location. As it turned out, my first thought was true. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man appear in the window again, another stick of C4 in his hand.

“Hold it, hold it!", I shouted raising my left hand, “US Army!"

The man lowered his explosives, “get inside through the basement sir, my old man has got anti tank weapons you can use to take out the BTR."

The man disappeared back into the house and the door to the basement clicked ajar. Nitro opened the door and my team filed in first followed by the ranger squad. In the basement, we found a large stash of explosives, guns, food and water along with all kinds of NFA automatic weapons and short barrel firearms. The guy even had three AT4 CS launchers hanging on a wall over a workbench piled high with C4 bricks.

“I like this guy. This dude my kinda guy.", Nitro said grabbing an AT4 from the wall, “I'll deal with the BTR boss."

I nodded, “Trent, you and James stay with Nitro as back up, the rest of you are with me, let's clear the house of hostiles and meet our mystery man."

A round of command's acknowledged was exchanged between my team and the rangers. Nitro went to deal with the BTR as myself and the rangers pushed up stairs, where we found the house mostly empty downstairs, but several commandos had managed to make their way up stairs. I saw three of them with guns drawn, paying attention to whatever was going on at the end of the hallway, our guy by my guess. One of the commando's happen to glance down our direction and see me, but was shot by two rangers behind me for either of us could draw. Now the two other commando's had taken notice of us and turned to engage us. I managed to get shots on both of them, killing one and wounding the other, who then had his head blown off by what had to be a point blank shotgun blast. Down the hallway, I could hear the pin come off a flashbang.

“STAR!", a male voice shouted.

“Texas!", I answered.

I saw the shotgun barrel slowly come around the corner, soon the man poked his head around the corner to see us.

“What's your callsign?", the man asked.

“Field Marshal Alex west", I said, “Tier X Strike Force Echo."

“Tier X?", the man asked, “where the hell did you boys come from?"

“Long story", I said, “we don't have time to discuss. We're moving towards the center of town to secure Raptor 2, wanna tag along? We can use every pair of boots we can get."

The man nodded, “hell yes sir."

“What's your name?", I asked.

“Morrow", the kid said, “US Army, or at least I was supposed to be."

“Supposed to be?", I asked.

“Yes sir", the Kid said, “I hurt my back the first day of basic training and was discharged."

“Consider yourself reenlisted", I said, “you'll be taking orders from me for the foreseeable future."

“Understood", Morrow said. From downstairs, I heard the AT4 go off, followed by a deafening bang.

“BTR's scrap metal Alex", Nitro said over the radio.

“Rodger", I said, “let's rendezvous in the back yard and proceed to the crash site from there.

I returned to the backyard, where I met up with the rest of my team and moved forward. Not two more minutes of walking brought us to the center of town, where I could see a restaurant collapsed in on itself with a still smoldering wreck of a helicopter in it. UWR armor and foot mobiles were swarming around the location, duking it out with an Abrams main battle tank and about a dozen Secret Servicemen and 5 or six Spetsnaz operators on the roof.

“Overlord this is King 1, I have eyes on Raptor 2's crash site, can you confirm his beacon is still online?"

“Rodger King 1, Raptors beacon is still active at this time and GPS places him in the meat locker of the restaurant", Overlord said, “recommend you move quick as 200+ UWR foot mobiles plus 2 BTR tanks are en route from the southwest, ETA in 20 minutes."

“What's the ETA on my backup?", I asked.

“Roughly a double length time frame", Overlord said, “recommend you clear the area and get dug in. Over."

“Rangers, Tier X, our objective is held up in the meat locker, all forces in the Burger King are friendly, you are weapons free for all other targets."

With those words, Tier X and the Ranger teams split off from each other. The Ranger's went towards a gas station, while my team moved towards a bank that was being used as cover by UWR foot mobiles, from inside, I could hear the tell tale rip of Mg-42's. Moving inside, we stumbled on an entire nest, six 42's in the front with all the explosive ammo they needed to rock for days.

“Damn", Nitro said, “42's in that position with that kind of ammo will tear a chopper apart, no wonder Raptor went down."

“Let's put them out of business", I said raising my rifle and sending the round flying through the back of the head of the middle gunner. The man face planted into the dust cover of his weapon and fell to his back as every single gunner immediately turned on us.

“Enemy infantry in cover behind the bank", a female commando shouted diving to the ground. Jack was the first to draw on her, and of course, no one is ever a match for Jack's trigger finger, or his AP ammo for that matter. The woman turned into a brick within a few seconds of her calling our positions. Sniper fire was also coming in from the Spetsnaz position across the street, they spoke Russian over the radio, so I couldn't make sense of their call outs, but they were a great bunch of marksmen, for sure, as many of the commandos in the position dropped to head shots before we could even get the shots off.

“Thanks for taking the heat off of us", a man said in a thick Russian accent, “Vodka is on us when your vice president is secure."

“We'll take you up on the offer", I said, “guys get on these 42's and thin the herd out a bit, Nitro and I will give cover."

Jack, James, Shelby and Trent manned four of the six machine guns and turned them on their former allies. When I was a little kid, my Great Grandfather, who served as a sniper in the second world war, told me the horror stories of Hitler's Buzzsaw, at the time, the nastiest weapon on the battlefield and one that bolt action rifles equipped only with iron sights had no counter to. The gun was so violent and effective that German infantry tactics were centered around it. The UWR, of course, embraced the Mg42, modernizing it, chambering it for the mighty .30-06 round and upping the fire rate to 2000 RPM, making the weapon even more deadly and the guttural chainsaw like noise even worse. I'd faced many of them with nothing more than armor and a knife, probably been shot a thousand times facing them and I gotta say, the weapon has earned every bit of it's reputation as a conveyor of death. Once the 42's started rocking for our side, the UWR was dealt with easily enough, of course, the back up was still on the way.

“That takes care of them for now but there are still more on the way", I told the Spetsnaz over the radio.

“Of course there are", one of them said, “have you back up on the way?"

“Affirmative", I said, “you?"

“Negative", the Spetsnaz said, “it's just us."

“Overlord", I said, “UWR forces in the area have been neutralized, Raptor 2 is in the hands of the Secret Service and a team of Spetsnaz snipers, where the hell is my backup?"

“En route to your location now", Overlord said, “ETA in 35 minutes."

“Bullshit", I snapped, “nothing takes 35 minutes."

“Watch your tone Marshal", Overlord said, “there ain't a whole lot I can do about it."

“What kind of firepower are they bringing?", I asked.

'Two main battle tanks, sixty rangers and four Strikers", Overlord said, “A predator drone is also inbound to your location at this time along with a supply drop containing ammunition and an M11 sentry gun. The pilot is flying to the AO blind, so you'll have to mark the DZ for her."

“Rodger that, what's the Pilot's callsign?", I asked.

“Vulture 2-2", Overlord said.

“Rodger", I said, “King 1 out. Vulture 2-2 this is king one how copy?"

“I read you King", a young sounding female said, “I'm flying closer to enemy lines than I'd like and I'm almost out of fuel, mark a DZ for me with any kind of smoke other than white, a flare, a strobe, something I can see from my plane. I can't afford to circle around to make the drop."

“Vulture 2-2", one of the Spetsnaz said, “my name is Alexei Borden, Spetsnaz, I'll mark the DZ for you with a blue flare."

“Rodger that Alexei", Vulture said, “I'm 30 seconds out."

I turned to my guys, “grab two of these 42's, and let's get across the street to the Burger kind, these weapons will do our Russian boys some good right about now."

Nitro and Trent ripped two of the 42's from their mounts, while the rest of us gathered a couple thousand rounds each of .30-06 and walked it across the street to the the Burger King, where a little at a time the Russians took it up to the roof.

“Trent, you're with me, the rest of you help our Russian's set up", I told them as I went into the Burger King. Inside the trashed restaurant, SS agents and Russian FSO's were drenched in sweat and dirt, magazines for P-90's and AK-74u's were laying all over the ground and the guys looked exhausted.

“Tier X", one of the Russian FSO agents said, “I didn't think we rated that much of a rescue."

“FSO", I said, “is the Russian president with you?"

The Agent used his Ak to try and stand, but couldn't because of a bullet in his leg.

“I got you brother", Trent said helping the man to stand.

“Blagodarya Captain Morgan", the FSO agent said, “my president is with your vice president in the meat locker."

Trent helped the agent walk back to the meat locker, where I found both the US Vice President and the Russian President guarded by two FSO and two SS agents. The Russian President, though looking worse for wear, was armed with a UWR Issue AK-47 and Raptor was out cold, a Spetsnaz medic close by.

“Is our guy still breathing?", I asked.

“Barely", the Russian medic said, “I've done what I can, but the man needs much better medical work than what I'm capable of. I'm not sure if I can keep him alive much longer."

“Would a second set of hands help?", Trent asked, “I've got a bit more than just combat medicine under my belt."

“Anything is welcome", the Russian Medic said.

Trent handed the hurt FSO off to me and started helping the medic with the Vice President as the Russian prez spoke up.

“Do you have back up on the way?", he asked.

“Yes sir", I said, “several armored vehicles, two tanks and 60 infantrymen, they will arrive shortly after UWR back up does, we won't have to hold out long."

“I hope your right", the Russian President said, “the UWR would love our heads as trophies."

“It won't come to that mister president", the FSO said, “this is the leader of Tier X, the UWR won't win, not today."

“I hope so Vasili", the President said as the low rumbling of a C-260 came into ear shot.

“UWR?", one of the SS agents asked.

“Nope", I said, “ammo."

“Thank god", one of the SS agents laughed as blue flares flew from the roof into the parking lot.

“King One this is Vulture 2-2", the woman said, “making the drop now."

Several boxes fitted with parachutes flew from the back of the plane as it made a single pass. Most of the boxes landed close to each other in the parking lot and anyone who could walk was ripping into them to get at the ammunition inside. Weapons clicked and clanked as AK's, P-90s and M4's were reloaded and vests were topped off. Plates inside of carriers were replaced and there were grenades for days. One of the ammo caches was dragged by the chute up to the roof, while the other was brought inside. The third crate was the M11 Sentry gun, the good, minigun variation and the fourth box was a suit of Pathfinder armor. Pathfinder Suits had been developed in early 2019, intended to replace bomb suits for EOD teams and Mine Layers, the design had been so modular that the company rolled out other kits for the suits for use by Firefighters, UDT Teams, Oceanic Research and even Infantry men. The only weakness I could think of them having was being vulnerable to Energy weapons, as the EMP generated when the rounds impacted could easily disable the suits onborad electronics and movement systems.

“Nitro", I said, “we got a pathfinder suit and an M134 Minigun with a full 2,500 round load out down here, this is all you."

“Got ya boss", Nitro said as I picked up the Sentry gun and carried it up to the roof. I handed it off to one of the Spetsnaz guys and climbed the ladder to the top. I took the Sentry Gun back from the sniper and set it up in the corner, turning it on.

“Nitro", I said, “Make sure your strobe is on or the M11 will rip you a new asshole."

“Yeah yeah boss", Nitro said, “not like I was visible enough already."

“Nope", I said, “Overlord, this is King One, what's the ETA on enemy back up?"

“T Minus 7 minutes", Overlord said, “Be advised Marshal, that predator drone is entering your airspace at this time."

'Rodger", I said, “we'll put it to work. Out."

“Hey Marshal", One of the rangers said, “this tanks running but the guys won't answer their radio."

“You boys in the tank are quiet", I said getting on the radio, “y'all okay?"

“Yes Marshal", a woman answered, “we're just tired, running 46 hours on barely 3 hours of sleep, most of my crew isn't gonna be able to hold out much longer, the kid's already out cold and we can't wake him up."

“He'll wake up once the lead starts flying", I said, “sit tight guys, fresh tanks are 26 minutes thirty out."

“Thank god", the woman said, “Rupture 1 out."

I turned to my team, “tankers are about to pass out from exhaustion, only task them if you have to, understood?"

A resounding understood echoed across my crew, the SS, the Rangers, who had gotten dug in with the remaining German machine guns across the street at the bank and the SS and FSO, who were moving tables and chairs to protect from the shrapnel and explosive shock waves that were sure to come. As dug in as we could be, and with Nitro antsy to put the minigun to work, all we could do now was let the minutes tick away. Everyone was dug in by the 15 minute mark, UWR troops were less than 4 out, and our guys were still 16 away.

“It's too cold for this shit", Morrow said blowing into his hands, “I should have grabbed my gloves before I left the house."

“Steal a pair off one of these dead bodies", I told him.

“I don't steal from the dead Marshal", Morrow said.

“Ain't stealing if they're dead", Nitro said, “besides, that doesn't apply to military equipment. Steal a wallet, wedding ring or a picture of a man's wife and that's when I'm gonna cave you over the head. But if you're too much of a baby to take a pair of gloves off your enemy, here, you can have my spares."

Nitro handed morrow a pair of tan Mechanic gloves and he quickly put them on.

“Thanks Captain", Morrow said.

“Don't mention it kid."

My watch began to beep. Time was up, and as if on cue, smoke canisters rolled into the street at a corner about 200 meters away from our building. I could hear the sounds of boots and large diesels closing in fast. I could hear Morrow swallow hard and the bolts of M4's and AK's racking back to the rear, picking up rounds from their magazines and feeding them into chambers.

“Guess the fun's starting", I said, “TIER X! WHAT DAY IS IT?"

“IT'S THE DAY OF THE DEAD!", my friends shouted.

“Take no prisoner's comrades", Alexei said to his men, “this is for Moscow!"

“Now get ready for sorrow", Nitro said quietly, “cause it's hell that follows."

Then I heard the war cry. The same cry my Great Grandfather had heard from the Russians when the Germans invaded Stalingrad, and again when the UWR took Moscow, from the Chinese when the UWR Pathfinders ravaged Beijing washed over me for the third time in my life. The difference this time, is that I wasn't over seas, and there was American soil underneath my boots.

“Light 'em up!", I shouted as the first man appeared from the smoke, quickly followed by dozens of others. Trent and Jack opened up with the Mg42's we'd stolen from the bank, and the ones remaining there quickly followed. The smoke cleared as the UWR armor rowed up to play, lead by the Viper VS-14. A lightning fast, heavy, twin barreled tank with a bulldozer for a front end and a exhaust note to make a LeMan's racecar jealous. Vipers can't do half the things the Abrams sitting behind the building can do, but they do one thing really, really well, and that's destroy everything that get's in their way. The Viper was the obsidian tip of the UWR's titanium's spear, and it wasn't here for a play date.

“Obsidian has eyes on target building", a man said over the radio, “I count roughly one dozen hostiles inside and about 14 more on the roof."

“You're cleared for .50 caliber machine guns in the vicinity of the building but avoid the main gun", A man with a think Brazilian accent told the tank commander, “we can't have the Russian and American presidents injured."

“COVER!", I shouted as the Viper opened up on us with full tilt automatic fire from the M2 Browning's. The M11 shot back, disabling one of the M2's, but was then shot to scrap metal. The Viper continued to lay down fire on us while the mass of UWR foot mobiles moved towards the restaurant.

“Alex!", Trent shouted, “Get on the Predator and thin the herd a little!"

Without answering, I swiped open the Predator's control interface, and all I saw on the drone's camera was a blur of white dots and blocks, but the only white block that mattered was the big one in the middle of the street. I hit the button. The AGM fell from the drone and ignited it's booster, flying towards the ground at 250 miles an hour. The Viper had no time to move or react before the missile ripped it apart. When the smoke cleared, the Viper lay as nothing more than an empty shell with a blown out rear end. I wasn't sure what I'd hit to make that tank shit it's motor, Viper's weren't known for failing under fire, even from an AGM. Of course it didn't matter, what mattered was that it was gone.

“Yeah good shooting King One", Overlord said over the radio, “that tank is scrap metal."

“Rupture 1-1", I said getting on the radio as I reopened the control interface, We got a lot of targets in the area and it's more than I can take of with guns and the drone alone, we need you guys in the fight!"

“Rodger Marshal", the commander of the tank said as the Abrams started it's engine, “Rupture 1-1 rolling."

“TANK!", one of the UWR Commando's shouted, instantly getting on radio, “Spider 2-2, we've encountered heavy enemy armor and air support has neutralized Obsidian, we need air support now!"

“I'll be there in half a minute", an older sounding guy said, I could hear a turbine and chopping in the back ground, probably a Jackal 130 Stryker, one hell of a helicopter I wouldn't mind owning.

“King One be advised, you've got an enemy helicopter loaded for bear approaching your AO, ETA in 27 seconds."

“I'm aware", I shouted into the radio over the gun fire, picking a few foot soldiers that had made it onto the roof off, “our perimeter has been breached by hostile foot mobiles, what's the ETA on my back up?"

“12 minutes out Marshal", a Ranger said from the other end of the radio, “bringing heavy armor with me. Sit tight, I'll be there as fast as I can."

“I can only sit so tightly before I no longer fit", I joked as I landed the missile in a crowd of UWR commando's moving towards the bank.

“Holy hell, 20 plus KIA"s, Overlord said, “keep up the shootin King One."

I don't know why I thought it would be a good idea to stick my head up and take a gander of the situation, maybe it was a lack of sleep or being rather dehydrated and slightly starved from being in the field for so long, but I peeked over the edge of the building and was instantly shot straight in the face by a sniper I never even saw. The force of the impact jerked my head back and threw me to the ground, putting a huge crack in the visor of my helmet and disabling my HUD.

“Pussy move bro", I groaned rolling over to my stomach and crawling towards where Trent was. It didn't take him long to notice the hole in my visor.

“Did it get through?", He asked as I unclasped my helmet and pulled it off my rig, checking to make sure there wasn't a hole in my forehead, which thankfully there wasn't, but damn was it cold.

“Holy shit it's brisk out here", I said quickly replacing the glass of my shattered Visor. One of the great things about Rigs is that small bits, like visors, are light and easily replaceable in the field under any conditions. It was a good thing that the bullet hit the glass and not my helmet, because it was custom and that would have pissed me off. I put my helmet back on my rig and pulled a plasma grenade out of my vest, pressing the button on the side to prime it, and it would start it's count down the second it left my hand. I tended not to use grenades, or explosives in general, but Plasma grenades were some nice pieces of gear. Light, slim and effective, the canister's could be reloaded if you could recover them. They could stick to metal surfaces by means of a power full magnetic strip wrapped around them. Stick one to the engine of a tank, or the plate in someone's Rig, and watch the fire works. I blindly tossed the grenade over the edge of the building and waited for the tel tale hissing of the grenade releasing it's burning white phosphorous contents. My throw hit it's mark, but instead of killing a person, I heard an engine die. Just barely peeking over the edge, I saw my grenade had melted through the hood of a Humvee that had made it a little too close to the building, I also just barely managed to catch the glint of the scope from the sniper that shot me.

“There you are you fuck", I growled opening the UI to the drone as Alexei tapped my shoulder.

“Comrade, the enemy Helo as arrived".

I nodded, “Nitro get inside before that helo turns you to paste."

“Rodger boss", Nitro said.

“Hmm", I thought to myself as I launched the missile, “much as I'd like to ram this warhead up that sniper's ass, a Jackal get's priority."

I guided the first missile to the Helo, which broke it in half when it went off, and the last missile on the rig was spent on the sniper, even though I knew it was a waste of an AGM. It was enough though. Once the Helo was down, and Rupture was in the fight, it didn't take them long to turn tail and get lost. They hauled even more ass once the cavalry arrived.

“Overlord", I said as the convoy finally arrived, “UWR forces are retreating, Raptor is secure."

“Rodger that Alex", Overlord said, “I need you and your team to divert with the convoy towards Arcadia to assist Hunter 2-3 in clearing the town and removing an AA gun emplacement to clear the way for civilian EVAC choppers."

“King One copies all", I said, “out. Rangers, today's your lucky day, if you got family in Arcadia, we're gonna go save their lives."