Simon's Recruitment

The convoy that left the Ranger headquarters had a simple mission; escort the engineer team to a bombed out bridge, deploy the bridge, then spread out and scout the town on foot. It was supposed to be simple. Foley's squad was the only Rangers unit deployed. The rest of the infantry and vehicles were standard Army, 104th Infantry Division, and battle engineers. They weren't expecting trouble, but they sure got it.

They hit the convoy about noon. Simon was slumped against the side of the turret ring, half dozing, when the first jeep went up. As the shouts started, he automatically followed the smoke trail, already kicking the Vulcan into action. There, across the river. At least sixty forms swarmed, several of them carrying the signature shapes of RPGs and anti tank weaponry.

The first burst went just wide enough to force their heads down. Simon cursed to himself, trying to adjust for drop. There was a bit of a wind, just enough to throw his aim off. He got off another two bursts before Matt smacked his leg.

“Swap! Let the master do his job!” he shouted. Simon hauled himself upward, dropping off the back of the Humvee and letting Matt into the gun pit. He preferred to be on the ground anyway. Sam shoved the back door open, throwing Simon his M4. He snatched it out of the air and racked it. Ready, willing and eager to engage.

There was a small rocky outcropping on their side of the river, under the bridge. Simon sprinted, bullets from both sides whistling by over his head, and vaulted the rail over the stair way. Sam was a split second behind him, and the pair dropped the short distance to the ground, hit the dirt instantly, and went hot. Above the chatter of AR fire, the unmistakable sound of a minigun opening up roared out. The entire left half of the enemy bank exploded, the sprays of blood fully visible even from here.

Foley crouched behind the Humvee, shouting into his head set. John was next to him, using a pair of binoculars to call out range for Chris. The DMR bucked repeatedly, dropping forms as quickly as John could call them out.

“This is Hunter Two Three Actual, requesting air support! Ambush engaged, I repeat ambush engaged. We need casevac and fast movers, stat! Coordinators transmitted, how copy?” Foley shouted, punching the keyboard of the laptop in front of him. There was a pause, and Ranger Command came back.

“Good copy, birds dispatched. Estimated T-minus ten minutes till contact. Danger close, repeat, danger close. Keep your heads down, boys.” Foley sighed with relief, then slammed the laptop shut and grasped his rifle.

“John! I need range on center mass ASAP. Focus fire on my smoke!” he shouted, loading his M203. John relayed the distance, and he sighted and fired. A massive cloud of white smoke billowed out of the center of the enemy forces, and the Rangers got to work.

After action reports would say that over seventy insurrection militia laid the ambush for thirty US troops. In the end, the air support wasn't needed. By the time the first scout jets passed by over head, barely ten militia remained alive. Total US causalities were five men, one dead, four wounded. Not one Ranger took even a graze.

Simon picked himself up, his M4 smoking. Sam followed him, grinning happily.

“Should have known better than to hit the Rangers with a bunch of goat herders! Lets go show them why we're the best,” he said, double timing up the stairs ahead of Simon.

“Hooah!” Simon shouted, following him up. The bridge layer moved up the bridge now that the way was clear, the massive steel ramp on it's back weighing it down. The arm slowly unfolded and extended, and the platform dropped into place. As the layer backed up, Simon slipped into his Humvee once more. Sam took the other side, and Chris slid into the front seat. Foley took the driver's chair as John climbed onto the back, hanging onto the handles mounted on the side.

Across the river, the remaining insurrectionists were being reinforced with sniper fire from a roof top. Matt opened up with the minigun as Foley spoke into his radio, reordering the air support. Simon tuned him out, focusing on the building. Too long of range for his M4, but he could see the forms on the top. Chris rolled the window down and half climbed out, twisting nearly backwards to counter snipe.

The jets screamed by over head. Missiles trailed, and the building dropped. The lower floors simply collapsed, the upper ones falling to earth after them. The shockwave rattled the fences of the bridge and shook the Humvees. Matt whooped happily as they rolled out, and Simon couldn't resist a grin himself.

“Alright, listen up Hunter Two. This was going to be a pass through run, but there's clearly heavy militia presence here. Watch for civies. Don't shoot anything unless it's pointing a gun at you. Once it starts doing that, drop it like a ton of bricks. Got it?” Foley spoke up, broadcasting to the other Humvees. A series of affirmatives echoed back, and he nodded.

“Stay focused. Watch your sectors.” Simon rolled his window down, eyes sweeping. Next to him Matt swiveled the turret, tapping the primer button occasionally. The whir of the motors spinning up was strangely comforting. Sam bent under his seat and started passing out replacement M4 mags, tossing some to Simon to replace the ones he'd fired.

“See anything?” he asked. Simon shook his head as he slid the mags into the pouches on his chest.

“I got nothing. This place is dead,” he replied. Foley slowly drove through town, winding through the streets carefully. Matt tensed next to Simon, spinning the barrels up.

“Foot mobiles, three. Dead ahead, second floor balcony.”

“Copy. They armed?” Foley asked, unable to see through the roof.

“Negative. Definitely Militia though. Probably scouting us.”

“Yeah, but that ain't enough reason to shoot 'em,” Sam replied, tracking the targets through his window as Foley rolled past and curved to the right. Simon twisted to look back, watching the Militia turn around and walk inside. The barrels spun down slowly as Matt released the primer.

They passed an alley, and all hell broke loose. Lead spat up and down the side of the Humvee, John shouted and opened up with his M4, and Matt slammed on the trigger. Simon snapped around just in time to see a corpse fall back, the AK in it's hands still stuttering. John had taken him, but Matt was still firing... And lead was still coming back.

“RPGs, dead ahead, second floor! It's an ambush!” Matt shouted, destroying the front of the building with one long burst. John was still firing, hanging one handed off the back of the Humvee, and Sam leaned out his window to support him.

Simon climbed out his window, swinging his M4 around to bear and opening up. The noise was deafening, dozens of rifles and rockets going off at once. Fire came from all sides, pounding against the Humvee's armor. Matt continued to tear the building apart, dumping six thousand rounds per minute into it. But it wasn't enough. More and more Militia came, adding to the fire. The rockets were getting closer, shaking the vehicle on it's springs with every shot now.

“Get us out of here!” Simon shouted, hoping Foley could hear. The rifle arced and bucked against his shoulder as he swiveled, feeling lead hiss around him, missing by inches.

John shouted, a cry of pain and shock, and Simon spun just in time to see him drop his M4 and clutch at his chest. He started to slide down the roof, his hand scrabbling for the handle. Simon lunged forward, dragging his legs through the window, and grabbed John's hand, hauling back. Foley floored it, and the Humvee lurched forward through the storm of lead. An RPG flew by, missing by barely a foot and sending shrapnel bouncing against the back window and armor.

“You good?” Simon asked, shouting above the chaos. John climbed back up, weakly nodding.

“Vest took it. I'm not dying on the back of a Humvee, that's just insulting! What took Foley so long to move?” John replied, returning to his previous seat and retrieving the M4 from across his chest.

“Hell if I know. Maybe he liked the view,” Simon said, sliding across the roof and sitting next to John. A militia trooper sprinted after them firing wildly, and Simon answered with a precise burst. He dropped like a puppet with it's strings cut.

“Where's the rest of the task force?” John asked, pulling the hunk of lead out of his vest and tossing it to the side.

“Last I saw they were back in the kill box. I think... I think they didn't make it out,” Simon replied. John cursed explosively, and Simon nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”

They sped through the streets, Foley scraping off walls in his hast to get away. The Militia didn’t give up easy, scattering troops along the rooftops on their path. Matt engaged one and all, the powerful Vulcan hurling corpses backwards and turning cover into little more than rubble. Simon and John cleaned up after him, picking off the few he missed and covering their rear from foot troops.

They nearly made it to the edge of town. As they passed an alley, an enormous wall of force hit Simon, throwing him across the roof. John was actually blown off the Humvee, and he heard Matt shout. Another explosion range out and Simon followed John off the roof, landing in a crumpled heap.

He shook his head as he stood up, coughing the dust from his lungs. Foley kicked his door open, Chris tore around the corner of the Humvee at a full sprint, and Sam picked John to his feet as he ran past. Simon followed, hearing Matt pound after him. Foley led them into an apartment, thankfully empty of civilians. Foot steps upstairs showed the Militia were here too.

“The hell hit us?!” Chris shouted, slapping dust from his chest. Foley shook his head.

“IED it looked like. First one took out the engine, then some bastard lobbed a frag under the car. Looks like we're on foot now, boys. Command sent reinforcements to help take the town, but they're five blocks west. Lets shake some dirt!” he said. Simon nodded, coughing one last time, then started for the stairs.

“Foot mobiles upstairs. Permission to engage,” Simon asked, cocking his head upward. Foley nodded, slashing downward with his hand.

“Permission granted. Extreme prejudice, boys. Mess with the best, die like the rest!”

“Hooah!” shouted Sam, bouncing a frag off the wall. They heard shouts from upstairs, then the entire building shook. Screams rang out, and Simon moved fast.

As he crested the stairs, a Militia hiding behind a stove took a pot shot at him. Simon dropped him with a three round burst, then slammed into cover behind the counter it was mounted in. He rose and fired, keeping the Militia pinned as John moved up.

The M26 under John's M4 roared, picking Militia up and throwing them. He moved forward unstoppably, clearing the next room solo. Sam sprinted past, slide into a doorway, and opened up on a Militia behind the bed. There was a scream, and Simon stepped up to the window, bashing it outward with the stock of his M4 to clear a fire lane.

He swept the area, waiting for something to pop out. Nothing did as the rest of his squad ran across the yard, vaulted a fence into a playground, and advanced around a school building. They hit the dirt and covered his approach as he moved.

Simon vaulted through the window, turned and jogged down the stairs, cleared the fence on the run, and joined Sam behind a park bench. Foley gestured forward, and the pair split off. Sam moved left while Simon took right, the rest of the squad covering. Simon slid into the corner of the building, peering around cautiously. Nothing. They couldn't be alone... Had to be an ambush ahead.

“Don't like it. Cliched as hell, but it's too quiet. Where are the militia? We were neck deep in them two minutes ago,” Chris said over the radio. Simon double clicked back, and Foley shook his head.

“Keep moving. Whatever gets in our way, push through. Lets meet up with the reinforcements and go from there. LMG, move up.”

Matt nodded and moved, moving past Simon at a run. Foley followed, swiveling to cover him. Chris and John joined them behind a low wall, and Foley waved the rifle men forward. Simon barely slowed as he hit the wall, vaulting it smoothly and dropping to the dusty streets below. Sam was a fraction behind him, and the two jogged up the street side by side.

The dirt exploded between them. Simon instantly leaped to the side, landing on his back and rolling onto his stomach. He saw a flash and opened up, answering fire with the precision Rangers were renowned for. Behind him he felt rather than saw the rest of his squad moving up. Matt landed next to him, and his GMPG replaced the M4.

Simon pushed himself up, breaking into a dead sprint. Matt paused in firing just long enough to avoid taking off his ankles, and Simon moved down the street. It curved to the left ahead, dumpsters and trash bags providing ample hiding places. A doorway to his left exploded outward as a militia kicked it, and he spun to answer.

The corpse fell through the door, propping it open, and Simon slammed into the wall next to it. He could hear voices inside. He didn't bother with his M4, reaching to his vest and popping the pin of a frag. He held it for a second, letting the timer tick down, then chucked it through the door, hard. He heard a scream, and the wall behind him jumped.

He moved into the building, checking the targets. They resembled hamburger more than anything else, shredded by the frag. A single man crawled weakly for the wall, his legs trailing red. Simon flipped him over with a kick and finished him with a single shot to the forehead. He left the corpse where it lay and moved to the garage door. Judging from the tool shelves and lift on the floor, he'd just blown up an auto shop.

He hauled the door up, then flinched back as shots sparked near his hiding place. Sam skidded around the corner on his right, sliding on both knees as he opened fire. The militia member dropped back, the SKS in his hands clattering noisily as it fell. Simon checked that the way was clear, then slowly stepped out.

The rest of the squad followed, slowly dropping into their standard arrow head formation. Foley took the lead, Simon covered the rear, and the other four dropped into place alongside them. They advanced down the alley, checking the zones. Though they heard gunfire nearby, they couldn't see anything.

They rounded the corner to find four militia members facing away from them, keeping what appeared to be an American soldier pinned. Their backs were open, they were unprepared; it took barely a second. The US soldier stood up and waved, revealing himself to be a Ranger himself.

He gestured them through a doorway, and they stepped into the center of the US kill team operations. This wasn't a simple convoy like what they'd been sent in on; This was a force equipped to wipe out the resistance in the town. Simon's squad were directed to the mobile armory, while Foley and Simon went to the command tent for briefing. Or rather, Foley did.

A man wearing full ACUs and combat loadout stopped Simon on the way to the tent. Curiously, he had no rank stripes, no identifying patches, nothing to make him stand out in any way. He wore sunglasses, though he took them off as he examined Simon.

“Corporal Riley?” he asked, his voice heavily Irish accented. Simon nodded mutely, wondering what this was. The man half smiled and clapped a hand on his back, forcefully steering him towards the makeshift landing pad.

“I'm Captain MacTavish. I'm operating on behalf of the Task Force 141. We have a proposition for you. I think you'll find it... Interesting.”