Chapter 6: Chapter Four

     The rain never ceased pattering on the hull of the nine jets flying through the early morning. They had crossed GACU lines within an hour. The missiles and other aircraft did their job and shielded the jets from the anti-air rockets.

     The inside of the 18-Lions was dreary. Elias Alexander and Michael Wren sat idly inside a tank. Elias was seated in its turret while Michael sat in the driver's position. 

     Michael lowered his head backward, "Elias, I am bored." His voice was soft.

     "You think I'm not? And speak louder. You are hard to hear over the rain and engines." Elias's arms were crossed and his foot tapping idly.

     The tapping echoed throughout the tank. The noise began irritating Michael, "Can you please stop doing that?" Exasperation tainted his voice.

     "Stop what?" Elias's confused voice revealed he honestly didn't notice what he was doing.

     "Stop tapping your foot. It is getting annoying." Michael sat back up. 

     "No. If tapping annoys you, but watching men die in battle doesn't, you have problems." Elias spoke curtly.

     "Fine. Keep on tapping..." Michael twiddled his thumbs idly. Trying to take his mind off the mission. Explosions began echoing outside. 

     "Must be the anti-air rockets of those damn tin cans. I hope the screen works." Elias began tapping his foot faster. 

     "Oh, I'm sure it will. The rockets will target them first since they are closer... Probably." Twiddling his thumbs slower, Michael smiled slightly. 

     "I can't wait to do touch-down. Kick those fucking machines in their crotch." The cracking of knuckles echoed throughout the tank as Elias smiled wildly.

     "So vulgar..." Michael shook his head slowly.

     "Bah! Being in the army does that to you. Just give it time." A rough laugh escaped Elias. 

     Slowly, as the aircraft tore through the night sky, the explosions began to fade. The anti-air type Onites had ceased their attack to reload. The rain gradually stopped, and the sun began to bathe the world in its radiant light. 

     The jets flew quickly, cruising over the GACU front lines. Eventually, the planes touched down at a long abandoned airport in an old city left over from when the Federation wasn't overrun by the GACUs.

     The early morning was defined by the rumbling of tanks that exited their cargo planes and were attached to trailers, so they could haul supplies. 

     Vincent ordered soldiers around as they prepared to advance on GACU production plant four. He opened a crate. The inside was stocked with grenades. "Right. Contents confirmed. Load it on that trailer." He pointed to a trailer hitched to an 18-Lion. With a nod, two soldiers grabbed the crate and dragged it off.

     A rumble neared Vincent. He turned to see an 18-Lion. However, instead of a turret, it had a radar on its top. "The hell is that?"

     The smiling form of sergeant Morose peeked out of the top, "This is the Coyote. It is a mobile radar. It can also pick up and trace GACU communications within a centimeter of its origin! It'll help us evade the tin parades!" Tin parades had become slang for GACU patrols.

     Whistling lowly, Vincent looked back to the line of tanks. Fifty 18-Lions were lined up. The ones in the back had covered trailers filled with crates. On top of the 18-Lions were infantry, checking their weapons. "Pull behind the rear and switch on the radar immediately."

     "Sir!" Morose went back into the metal frame and drove to the line. 

     Vincent walked toward the head of the line, where his command tank was. He pulled himself onto the top, opened the hatch, and sat inside the turret. "Right. Wren, Alexander, ready?"

     "Yep!" Michael started the engine as Elias checked their ammo stock. 

     "Then we begin! Head northeast along the city highway!" Vincent reclined in his seat.

     On his orders, the tank rumbled onward. Driving out of the airport and pulling onto an old highway. The convoy followed suit and tore through the dilapidated city, keeping an eye out for GACUs. 

     The concrete road was cracked from years of disrepair. There were old, slightly rusted cars scattered here and there. The tanks plowed the cars aside as they advanced. 

     The infantry on top of the tanks stirred restlessly. Mumbles of, "This place gives me the creeps," and "To think this place was once a great city," were exchanged by the soldiers. 

     Victor Irson, one of his squad's designated grenadiers, looked about, "You know, those scrap heads could be hiding in any of those buildings."

     "If they were, then I'd crush 'em!" James Mal pumped his fist into the air. 

     "Oh, relax," A voice emanated from inside the tank, "This is far behind GACU front lines. I doubt we'll run into any tin parades." 

     "Couldn't let us have a little fun speculating, Colonel?" Victor smirked.

     The tank's hatch opened, and Vincent poked his head out, "No. We need to be focused. Can't waste our time on anything meanless." He looked inside the tank, "Wren, the first factory is designated production plant four. It is fourteen kilometers northwest. I want us to get there before eighteen hundred!"

     Elias leaned over to Michael, "Remember. Eighteen hundred is six o'clock in twenty-four hour time."

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     "One time! I forgot how to convert standard time to twenty-hour time once!" Despite his outburst, Michael kept his eyes on the road.

     Snickering, Elias leaned back into his metal seat and closed his eyes. Vincent rolled his eyes, "Remember. This is a mission. No rivalries."

     "Roger!" Elias, Michael, James, Victor, and the other soldiers called out simultaneously.

     Looking outside the tank turret, Vincent got lost in thought as he watched the crumbling buildings pass by, 'Damn those machines. This land should still be in the Federation's hands. 

*****

     </...Establishing communication line...\>

     </Communication target: production plant four overseer\>

     </Awaiting for signal to connect... Connection confirmed. Sending message\>

     </Enemy unit identified. Enemy unit heading along route forty-one. Estimated bare minimum force required to subdue the enemy is four tank-type Inites. Fifteen heavy-infantry type Anites. Twenty light-infantry type Enites\> 

     A single light-infantry type Enite surveyed the convoy of 18-Lions. The Enite was part of a patrol web that protected production plant four. The Federation's high command had guessed poorly regarding the plant's defenses.

     A round flew through the Enite's head. Its inner components were crushed, and its machine body collapsed.

*****

     Victor lowered his sniper rifle and plunked back down on the tank's hatch, "Damn. Didn't think an Enite would be here." 

     "Me neither. This is a problem." Vincent stared at the Enite's position with annoyance. The Coyote had detected a GACU transmission, and its crew relayed its position to Victor, an expert sniper, who proceeded to gun down the Enite.

     Vincent grabbed a radio and set it to transmit to each tank, "Alright, men. We got spotted. We're going to hightail it out of here, got it? No stops!" He turned to Michael, "Put the tank at three-quarters maximum speed."'   

     "Yes, sir," Michael grabbed a lever and pushed it forward, causing the tank to accelerate, "To the troops on top, try not to fall off."

     "Haha, that wouldn't happen. Even if it did, you would pick us up, right?" James laughed nervously.

     Staying silent, Michael kept on driving. "Michael, you'd stop and pick us up, right? Right?" Still no answer, "Why are you staying silent?"

     "Don't worry, James. We'd pick you up if you fell off." Vincent butted in, "Now, both of you, quiet. Keep your eyes forward. Keep an eye out for GACUs."

     "Roger, sir." James turned his gaze back to the buildings. 

     Victor held his sniper rifle close and surveyed the buildings with its scope. The tanks tore through the city at forty kilometers per hour, plowing through all obstacles. Urban areas were the worst possible place for tanks to be ambushed, so they were trying to hightail it out of there. 

     The buildings provided vantage points higher than the tanks would elevate their cannons, and from the top of the buildings, enemies could hit the top of the tanks, where the armor was weakest. So they had to escape before the GACUs organized an ambush. 

     The crates towed by the tanks rattled as they drove through the city. The rattling echoed throughout the empty streets eerily, unnerving the soldiers. Few things are creepier than an abandoned city.

     The radio inside Vincent's tank crackled, "Sir! We've detected an enemy patrol! Six combatants detected!"

     Vincent grabbed the receiver, "Do we know what types we are up against?"

     "No. However, based on previous data, it is likely five heavy-infantry type Anites and a tank type Inite. They are two streets ahead on the left." The Coyote's radar was already proving useful.

     'Damn it. I thought we'd have more time before those stupid machines showed up.' Clutching the receiver tightly, Vincent switched it to transmit to all tanks, "Men! Enemies detected two streets ahead! Platoons one and two, head down the next street and take the first right you see! Doing so will take you behind the enemy!"

     "ROGER!" In unison, twenty tanks pulled out of the convoy, drove through the concrete barrier between the highway lanes, and headed down the highway. The soldiers on top of the tank loaded their K18 rotary grenade launchers.  

     K18 grenade launchers had become standard equipment for Federation demolition soldiers. It could hold six grenades capable of destroying a half-meter thick concrete wall. They were strong enough to bring down a heavy-infantry type Anite but were ineffective against tank-type Inites.  

     "Platoons three, four, and five! We advance to intercept the enemy! Spread out across the road! Infantry, target the heavy-infantry Anites first!" The cogs within Vincent's mind rapidly turned as he devised a strategy to crush the GACUs. Though they vastly outnumbered the enemy, Vincent could not afford to be reckless. Any casualties could hamper the mission in the future.

     Another cry of "Roger!" came through the radio as infantry dismounted the tanks and advanced forward. The tanks lumbered after the soldiers, slowly rotating their turrets to face where the enemies were coming from. 

     "Enemies getting closer..." The Coyote crew kept gradually updating the convoy, "Contact in three... Two..." Vincent switched on the receiver and prepared to give the order to open fire. "ONE! ENEMY CONTACT!"

     "ALL TROOPS, FIRE!" Vincent yelled into the receiver. 

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