Los Angeles West

  Night fell over Los Angeles, plunging the city into a deep darkness. With the sun blotted out, the only light came from the ominous pulsing red beacon that shined from atop Nyx Tower. Every few seconds its crimson glare coated the city in a menacing glow. Long strands of AAA reached skyward while machinegun and autocannon fire ran horizontally down the contested streets, occasionally punctuated by an explosion.

  With the night, the rain started again. Rubble, rocks and trash clogged the sewer and drainage system. Water filled every street and low elevation area. Mueller’s four-tank element advanced through flooded streets. He’d ordered a rapid transit. The shoguns plowed through knee-high standing water, creating large bow waves.

  The tanks were trailed by three supply trucks. The 5-ton trucks were loaded down with equipment and ammunition, and each had a dedicated driver. They stayed on the tanks armored heels.

  With the rain falling in sheets and low smoke creating a persistent haze, visibility was reduced to almost null. Mueller had no infantry escort. His only early warning would come from the tanks active and passive sensors. Unfortunately, the LIDAR was heavily degraded by the rain and the massive waves his treads were throwing up. Passive EM, anti-laser detectors and optics were his best assets.

  Despite the night being particularly hot in combat terms, their route had been quiet. Schnell II’s gunner kept shifting his scope to their right, where the front was marked by nearby flashes and rumbling.

  “Nervous, Cyrus?” Mueller asked.

  The gunner didn’t take his eye off the scope. “A little. I’m worried about infiltrators ambushing us. You heard what happened to that ACAV element in the 1st? Zapped before they even reached the front.”

  “Don’t worry. We’re 1 klik out from the Third’s AO. The enemy will be plain as day soon enough.

  The armored column began to pass rear echelon units as they neared the imperiled flank. Mueller ordered a reduction in speed. They passed cargo haulers ferrying supplies, ammo dumps and crews pouring over damaged vehicles.

  Finally, they passed by light mortar teams firing counterbattery missions with 40mm and 81mm bombs.

  “Alright, button up. Let’s not lose our heads.” Mueller ordered, referencing the danger of snipers this close to the front.

  The column slowed to a crawl as they came to a four-way intersection. Two six-story buildings on the street corner on the Vanguard’s side of the line had been fully demolished. Their shattered debris piles created a valley-like terrain feature. A triage and TOC had been setup in their lee, safely out of sight of the enemy.

  Beyond the rubble was no man’s land. Bullets danced across the open road and several contested structures beyond. A machinegun team at the top of the valley was firing continuously.

  Mueller brought his column to a halt alongside a trio of light utility vehicles that were parked side-by-side. Mueller tried raising them on L-comm but had no luck. Not having time to isolate their channel, he took the risk of opening his hatch and yelling.

  “Hey!”

  He got their attention. An officer, a lieutenant, came walking over. He shouted up to Mueller. “Are you guys our reinforcements?!” he shouted over the din of battle and rain.

  “No! We’re 4th armored, special element.” Mueller replied.

  “Where the hell is Echo company?” The Lieutenant asked.

  “I don’t know. Where’s your commanding officer?” Mueller asked him.

  “Dead! So is the exec.”

  “Who’s in charge?”

  “I’m it.”

  “I need to get to the other side of that line! Have you gotten any word from 4th Motorized?”

  “Fourth has been overrun!”

  Mueller was getting frustrated. Not only was this conversation tedious, but every second was letting more rainwater into his tank. “I know. They have a platoon trapped in a warehouse at the corner of Francisco and Sixth street. I need to get to that position.”

  The LT rubbed his chin. “That’s a deathwish!”

  “That’s my mission.”

  The LT looked around at his team. “We’ve had no contact, but that position isn’t far. The enemy has be-”

  “SHORT ROUND!” Somebody called out.

  Everyone dived for cover. Mueller closed his hatch. A malfunctioning mortar shell careened overhead and exploded in their midst. Shrapnel peppered the side of Schnell II.

  When Mueller reopened his hatch, he saw a several meter wide crater right next to his tank. The round had come from one of their own mortars.

  The mechanized lieutenant and his command team were unharmed, but their bells had been rung hard. Dazed, they were slowly getting back to their feet.

  “Damn this rain!” The LT cursed.

  He returned to his conversation with the tanker.

  “The enemy has been streaming forward all night with light units. Your column might be able to make it there. Can’t guarantee you’ll hold it, though.” He told Mueller.

  “That’s fine. I’ll be back to your line by midnight.”

  “I can’t guarantee we’ll be here in another hour, much less two. Suckers are pressing us hard.” The LT warned. “But, hey, green flare. Send one up before you cross back through no man’s land. Atleast it’ll keep my guys from mortaring you.”

  Mueller nodded. “Will do. Could you lay down some cover fire? We’re going to charge.” he phrased it like a request, but he expected the lieutenant would comply.

  He switched frequencies to the rest of his element. “All units, this Crusher Actual. Follow me. Do not stop for any reason. I say again, do not stop.”

  He kicked his driver on the shoulder. “Forward, full speed!”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Aye, full speed!” The driver acknowledged.

  The entire column lurched forward.

  The Lieutenant didn’t just comply but delivered an extra mile to the advancing tanks. As Mueller’s element pushed forward from the valley of collapsed buildings, the fighting intensified. Machineguns opened all along the sector with mortar teams firing new missions that lobbed semi-guided high-explosive warheads deep behind the enemy line.

  Sixteen seconds later, the grid ahead of Mueller erupted into flame as 18-inch HE shells from the carrier splashed down on the vampiric positions. Whole tracts of land were sent skyward by the blasts. Multiple shells landed simultaneously, giving the visage of an erupting volcano.

  Not willing to clog the already overburdened battlenet, Mueller thanked both stations silently as his tanks advanced into the fray.

  The tanks surged into no man’s land.

  Water sheeted off their glacis plates as rounds cracked overhead and skipped off the flooded asphalt. Tracers stitched the darkness, some passing close enough to rattle against armor skirts before ricocheting away.

  “Contact, twelve o’clock,” Cyrus called. “Multiple heat blooms. Light armor or technicals. Range four hundred.”

  Mueller didn’t hesitate.

  “Engage. Coax and main gun as required.”

  The 152mm barked, the muzzle flash briefly bleaching the street white. The round punched through a low concrete structure and detonated inside, blowing the roof off in a spray of debris and flame. A second target tried to break cover, engine screaming as it slewed sideways through the water.

  “On,” the gunner said.

  Another shot. The vehicle vanished in a flash, burning fragments skipping across the flooded street like thrown stones.

  “Crusher Actual, this is Salamander,” one of the trailing tanks called. “Taking sporadic RPG fire from rooftops, right side. No penetrations.”

  “Copy,” Mueller replied. “Ignore unless it tracks.”

  They pressed on.

  The street narrowed, buildings closing in until the tanks were forced into single file. Water deepened, climbing halfway up the side armor. The driver cursed as submerged debris clanged against the hull.

  Then the passive warning screamed.

  “Laser hit! We're being painted!” Schnell II’s gunner snapped. “Designator, left flank, third floor!”

  “Traverse left,” Mueller said. “Match bearing and send it.”

  The turret swung. The gun fired almost immediately, purely targeted the opposing bearing and elevation of the hostile laser designator. The building’s corner disintegrated, collapsing inward. A half-second later, a sympathetic detonation ripped through the structure, blowing out windows three buildings down as stored munitions cooked off in a chain of sharp, staccato blasts.

  Mueller whistled lowly. “Good kill. Keep moving.”

  They were nearly through when a larger ambush sprang.

  A heavy plasma bolt screamed out of the rain, slamming into Serenity’s side armor. The tank slewed violently, throwing up a wave of water and debris. The ERA tiles on the side took the brunt of the blast, detonating in counter to the superheated projectile.

  “Serenity hit!” came the call, strained but controlled. “Armor scorched, no breach. Returning fire.”

  Mueller leaned forward in his cupola.

  “Source?” he demanded.

  “Hard contact, ahead and elevated,” His gunner replied. “Eh, two o’clock high. Fixed position.”

  Mueller saw it then, a flicker of unnatural blue-green light through the rain, half-hidden in a gutted office block.

  Serenity had already zeroed the target and sent an HE round in.

  The round went wide, ploughing through a thin wall before exploding harmlessly in the air beyond. The field piece retaliated with a second shot. It was dead on, striking Serenity on the sector where it had previously sloughed off the ERA panels. The plasma projectile seared through like butter. The tank immediately ceased movement. The breech had been open with a shell being inserted. The hull glowed orange and flames erupted from open hatches and the barrel as ammunition cooked off. The crew was killed instantly.

  "Scheisse!" Mueller cursed. Schnell II was quick to avenge its sister. The gunner lit up the position with both rooftop gunmounts and the coaxial. Cannon and machinegun rounds were walked onto the position, suppressing the gun. All three tank fired their main guns at once. The enemy position vaporized.

  The reprieve was short. Immediately after the gun was silenced, a massive explosion arose from the rear of the formation. The last ammo truck in column exploded in spectacular fashion after being hit by an RPG.

  Mueller was quick to react. The column increased speed and was quickly extricated from the ambush-ally they were passing through.

  “Crusher Actual,” Salamander reported rom the rear of their column. “enemy fire collapsing. Sensors clearing.”

  They were through.

  Ahead, the dark mass of the warehouse loomed out of the rain, its walls scorched and cratered, muzzle flashes winking from shattered windows. Friendly IFF strobed weakly from inside. A wrecked recon car was parked at the south side. It's heavy roof mounted machinegun was engaging hostiles directly across the street.

  “Driver, bring us up on the south face,” Mueller ordered. He studied the damaged structure. He couldn't just park outside. He spied what appeared to be a weakened wall. "Driver, punch us through that wall. Wait for my signal."

  The tanks formed up in the flooded street, engines roaring, guns elevating.

  Mueller keyed his mic.

  “Fourth Motorized, this is Crusher Actual. Do you copy? Over.”

  Only static answered him, rain-soaked, and broken.

  He tried again, switching to a lower-power channel, then an open emergency band.

  “Vanguard unit, this is Crusher Actual on open net. Armor element outside your south wall. If you hear me, mark your position. Over.”

  Nothing.

  Mueller swore under his breath.

  “Gunner, thermal,” he ordered. “Look for friendlies inside. I don’t want to turn them into paste.”

  The gunner leaned into the scope.

  “Multiple heat signatures inside,” he reported. “Clustered, low movement. Looks like wounded. No heavy weapons near the south wall.”

  Mueller nodded.

  He keyed the battlenet.

  “All Crusher elements, listen up. Fourth Motorized is inside this structure. Comms appear degraded. We are going to breach the south wall and enter. Acknowledge.”

  “Salamander copies.”

  “Sisu copies.”

  Mueller switched back to external comms and cranked the output.

  “Fourth Motorized, this is Crusher Actual. If you can hear me—mark now. We are about to breach your south wall. Repeat: we are driving through the south wall. Get clear. Over.”

  A long, agonizing pause.

  Then, a faint reply. “…Crusher Actual… this is Fourth Motorized… weak signal… copy breach… south wall clear… do it.”

  Mueller exhaled.

  He turned to the gunner.

  “Driver, send it."

  The tank roared forward.

  The gunner rotated the turret to avoid fouling the barrel as the bow slammed into the warehouse wall and it collapsed inward, making a tank-sized hole through reinforced concrete and steel. The wall collapsed in a thunderous cascade, dust and debris rolling outward into the rain-choked street.

  Mueller waited a heartbeat.

  “There they are,” the gunner said.

  Mueller keyed the battlenet.

  “All units, advance. Slow. Watch clearance.”

  The column rolled forward behind Schnell and into the safety of the warehouse's expansive interior, concrete grinding under treads as they forced their way inside.

  Faces turned as the tank entered.

  Some of them cheered. Some just stared.

  Mueller opened his hatch. The walls of the interior were fortified with scrap and makeshift barriers. Troops manned a full perimeter as if they were militia defending a wooden fort.

  A grimy Chief ran over.

  “Jesus Christ,” he shouted. “You're a site for sore eyes! You're here to reinforce us?”

  Mueller shook his head and pointed back toward the breach.

  “I'm afraid not.” he called. “We're here for the spy and then we're leaving. I have two truck loads of ammunition for you, though."

  The NCO stared, tight lipped at first. "I see. Well, it's better than nothing." he said.

  He gestured over to his field hospital. "She's over here."

  Mueller followed him. He was confused at first. He thought he was supposed to ferry her back. He soon saw why that was not possible.

  The NCO pulled back a white sheet covering a body. Mueller's heart sank.

  "She did pass us the intel before she drew her last, though." He handed Mueller a small thumb drive.

  The tanker handled it gingerly. "Did she say what happened?"

  "No. Just told us what she found." The Chief said. "But it's impressive she got it. Judging by what she told us, she found AND infiltrated the enemy control center for their whole damn army. That intel is on there too. She ran through miles of occupied territory and risked alot of fratricide to get to us." He glanced down at the body. "It must have been hell."

  Mueller plugged the drive into his digital tacmap and ensured the data was being copied. He would tell his other tankers to do the same to ensure the survival of the intel. He queued up a recording from the spy and listened. The spy got right to the point with what she found. His blood ran cold at her words.

  The Chief Rifle noticed his reaction and nodded. "Ya, we're fucked if we don't get to that tower quick enough."

  Mueller's fist wrapped tightly around the drive. He shouted to his tankers, "Mount up!"

  

  He looked back at the Chief. "We're not far from friendly lines. I can try and punch a hole and bring your guys through." Mueller offered.

  He shook his head. "Not feasible. All our wheels are wrecked. And if we mount up on top of your tanks we'll just be fish in a barrel. Go without us. Wind at your back, lads." he waved. "We'll hold out until the rest of the army catches up to us, eh?"

  "Aye." Mueller smiled weakly. He doubted he would see any of these troopers again.