ARISEN_Book Thirteen_The Siege by Michael Stephen Fuchs

ARISEN_Book Thirteen_The Siege by Michael Stephen Fuchs

Author:Michael Stephen Fuchs [Fuchs, Michael Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Complete & Total Asskicking Books
Published: 2017-10-11T06:00:00+00:00


Out of the Fight

Outside London – Kent Downs

"You’re sure to receive a Victoria Cross for this one, mate!”

"But only if we keep the Queen alive long enough to drape it on you! Ha ha ha!”

Sergeant Major Pradup Sun just grit his teeth, kept firing, and kept his eye on his section. B Company, 2 Royal Gurkha Rifles, had just successfully moved across two miles of overrun Kent – fighting and laughing the whole way. Much of the Gurkhas’ reputation as fearsome fighters was because they always seemed to laugh at death, however bloody the fight or hopeless the odds. What people didn’t realize, Sun smiled to consider, was that the Nepalese people generally laughed at everything. There was a simple art to happiness, and they were blessed with it, as their birthright.

Even now, as the company was hunkered down in all-round defense, having secured a suitable HLZ for the incoming flight of Chinooks, they were still laughing and clowning around. They were also having to defend this ground for the interminable two minutes until the helos actually arrived. And that defense was getting seriously and uncomfortably bloody.

Sun was down on one knee, firing and reloading his rifle, but very aware of the khukuri close at hand on his belt. There had already been breakthroughs of the lines, a pack of runners moving fast, two Foxtrots, and men had gone down. Not in his sector, at least not so far… but hand-to-hand fighting was by no means out of the question.

Beside him, laid out prone on the ground, was his section’s two-man machine-gun crew, banging away. They were probably why there had been no breakthroughs here. Pausing to reload again, Sun scanned the skies behind him – and, sure enough, there they were, six big and ungainly Chinooks, flaring in right in the center of their perimeter. The firing had been so heavy he hadn’t heard the approaching engine or rotor noise, but now the air whipped around their heads. This was it.

And then the MG went down. Glancing across and down, Sun could see it had merely gone empty, the crew having run through its current belt. But the lull was badly timed, and protracted enough for a pack of a dozen runners to smash into their lines, which crumbled and broke.

And just like that it was a smash-mouth fight.

This was happening even as the Chinooks settled into the mud behind them – so they were somehow going to have to hold, fight, displace, and load up, basically all at once. There was little choice. Sun actually laughed out loud at the absurdity of this as he fired point-blank into a mouth with blackened teeth, stretched out on its neck trying to close the distance to his own exposed throat. The back of its head blew out, spraying diseased brain matter – close to another Gurkha behind him, but Sun had taken care with the angles, so it was okay. Barely.

He pivoted to fire again, but two runners were closer



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