ARISEN : Raiders, Volume 2 – Tribes by Michael Stephen Fuchs

Author:Michael Stephen Fuchs [Fuchs, Michael Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Complete & Total Asskicking Books
Published: 2020-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

Show of Force

JFK, Flight Deck – HLZ3

“Ah, shit,” Ruesser said to Wiegand, in the cockpit of the King Stallion. They looked at each other and then out the front glass again, at the five-ton sucker punch coming straight at their faces, both knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. Even aside from the fact that the cabin was still being unloaded, they had no ability to maneuver on deck, dependent on tractors for that. And there was no time. They were just going to have to sit there and take it.

And taking it might mean getting pushed over the edge of the flight deck.

But the blow never came.

Instead, the line connecting the load to the Seahawk passed inside the 80-foot rotor disc of the King Stallion – which severed it instantly. In the same instant, the Seahawk above unexpectedly got 10,000 pounds lighter and took off toward the heavens, wobbling madly as the pilot fought to maintain positive control.

The second Seahawk pilot reacted to this, backing farther off the port side – but was only able to do so slowly, with its own hazardous load twirling underneath. Suddenly, the sky overhead wasn’t Cirque du Soleil – it was like a barnstorming stunt show crossed with America’s Worst Aviation Disasters, Caught on Home Video.

With Team 2’s extraction helo parked in the middle of it.

* * *

“LT, we need to displace!”

The LT tried to think, to make his mind function – which was hard to do while firing his own weapon on the line. Standing up to an arrogant superior officer was one thing, but combat leadership skills could only be earned. And while it wasn’t unheard of for a platoon commander to engage the enemy with his men, it was still something you tried to avoid.

Now the LT’s understrength Team 2 had gotten backed all the way up the ramp, finally spilling out onto the parking deck. The good news was they could spread out into a wide arc, and get every gun on the line. The bad news was they were running out of ammo again, with no resupply inbound. The worse news was there was nowhere left to retreat. They’d sealed off and controlled access to this target site too well. Now they were looking at dying in place – if that Defiant didn’t get back pretty damned soon to extract them.

And then, with everything else the LT was trying to process, the voice of God, Rain the Growler EWO, jumped back in his ear. “Reamer, how you doing? Doesn’t look good down there.”

The LT didn’t bother answering, not least since he didn’t have the bandwidth for it.

“We got authorization for a show of force flyover.”

That made the LT laugh out loud. What the hell was that going to do? It didn’t even work on dollar-a-day Taliban AK-humpers, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to scare off the dead. Nonetheless, a few seconds later, the sky turned to screaming and a series of sonic booms

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