CHAPTER 12

  “Knights In Ceramic Armor”

June 24th, 2040, 1:21AM: Proximity 9 miles outside Hoffen City

 

Special Forces Section Whiskey 0-1 - Callsign ‘Dagger’

 

About a foot above the treeline, three Back-Hawk helicopters made their way towards Hoffen City. Inside the right Black-Hawk, the Green Berets were again going over their weapons with their squad leader. Commander of the other two teams, Captain Mason, was looking at a digital map of The White Palace on his wrist. As usual, Mason wanted to cross every ‘T’ and dot his ‘I’s. 

“Question commander.”  A Green Beret spoke up. One of the younger men, easily identified by his full black balaclava and opaque goggles. 

“What's up Ghost?” Mason broke his gaze from the map to face him. 

“Just so I’m one-hundred percent correct here. If we run into weaponized magic, we are to immediately disengage?” Ghost asked while tilting his head slightly, seemingly still confused by the odd detail. 

“That’s correct Ghost, word from our friends in the CIA and siblings in the field is that there is magic capable of blocking small arms fire. The only person here who has a chance is Rose with that M107.” Mason pointed to the woman near the helicopter's right door who returned a sly smirk. 

“Finally enjoying what you see?” Rose replied, posing suggestively with the anti-material rifle. Ghost and Mason chuckled, leaving their fourth member to silently stare out the door window, his MK48 machine gun sitting between his legs. 

“Raccoon shit in your bed again Leo?” Using her right foot, Rose bumped Leo’s, making him jump slightly.

“No, it’s just… I’ve been thinking about a good friend of mine in the SAS, even now I still send a few texts his way--and yeah I know we aren't on Earth, but a part of me just… doesn't want to accept it.” Leo stared at his boots dejectedly, causing the mood inside the chopper to take on an even more depressive atmosphere. 

“We’ve all lost someone because of the transfer Leo, and I’m willing to bet my life that whatever brought us here can return us back to Earth. But right now I need to know if your head is in the game; The future of America literally depends on it.” Mason watched as Leo seemed to shake himself back into reality. “Oh I’m ready to kick ass Captain.” Leo returned a smile. 

 

Before Mason could say anything else, his right wrist buzzed. Twisting his wrist, he saw the device had notified him that they had just passed their second-to-last waypoint. 

“Alright team, from the top!” Mason raised his voice by a few decibels, causing everyone to look his way. “We are tasked with finding and extracting American ambassador Aaron Bloomfield, First Princess Wiess Keitel and Second Princess Leyna Keitel; they have gone dark for just over fifteen minutes. The assumption is that they went underground. There are marines on the ground already but they can’t reach their Black-Hawks due to exposure and unconfirmed reports of damage. Reports of magic have been confirmed, with top brass stressing to use extreme caution when engaging. We also received a priority message directly from the Joint Chiefs of Staff stating that the ROE (Rules of Engagement) book has been thrown out the window for this operation. ‘Hammer’ will be hitting the front door of The White Palace to pull attention away from us and ‘Saber’ as we flank the sides. Once we secure our targets, we will be moving to ‘Extraction Zone Alpha’, the rear garden. Should that zone be too contested we are to move to ‘Zone Beta’, an archery training area directly south of the main palace garden. If all zones are compromised, we are to initiate case-plan-Zulu where we will lay low in the city until extraction is plausible. Questions?” Mason relayed the mission once again. His teammates remained silent. “Outstanding.” He smiled while grabbing his MK17 SCAR that was resting against his seat. 

“Final waypoint in sight, prepare to disembark!” The pilot announced, making Ghost lean right to see through the front windshield. 

“Hot damn. Did the navy get the same message about the ROE?” Ghost’s rather odd question piqued Mason’s curiosity. Turning his head, his eyes widened at the scene they were flying into.

 

Columns of illuminated smoke billowed into the air with raging fires below marking areas in and around the White Palace. 

“Seems like it. Though it looks like they really took it to heart.” Mason leaned back into his seat. Not long after, the pilot spoke again.

“Beginning low altitude approach!” Hearing this, everyone's muscle memory kicked in. They grabbed onto nearby handles as the helicopter descended rapidly after clearing the city walls, getting within inches of rooftops.            

“Hang on back there. This is gonna get rough!” The pilot announced before rotating the helicopter right. 

 

With only the extremely dim cockpit lights and the distinct noise from the three Black-Hawks giving their rough position, they each split off towards their landing zones. Again, every pilot’s skill was tested as they weaved around church spires and towers. A few minutes passed and Dagger’s Black-Hawk finally began to slow down and went into a sharp left turn as the pilot hovered over The White Palace defensive wall.

“Alright, everyone out!” Mason ordered while sliding the side-door open as Leo did the same on the opposite side. Then, throwing down the rappel ropes, Dagger team lowered themselves onto the wall. 

“Dagger to Midnight, team is grounded, proceed with the plan.” Mason radioed the Black-Hawk pilot who immediately began flying towards the nearest city wall to leave. Looking back at his team Mason gave a simple nod before starting the long jog across the wall to a nearby tower. 

 

Ghost got to work lockpicking the wooden door; the sky around them once again quiet with all the Black-Hawks having dropped off their respective teams. Just a few seconds later, Ghost fiddled with the handle and the door opened. 

“Not exactly military grade.” Huffed Ghost. 

“Hold it Ghost. Dagger to Hammer, ready to ring the dinner bell?” Mason radioed. 

“Ready on your command Dagger.” 

“Send it.” Mason responded. Not long after, the main gatehouse erupted beautifully as Hammer Team fired a missile into it, courtesy of their Carl Gustav Recoilless Rifle. Mason then gave a nod of approval to Ghost to proceed. 

 

Throwing open the door, Mason entered first with Ghost about an inch behind, the rest of the team following shortly after. Inside the tower, they entered into a cramped spiral staircase with still lit torches hanging on the wall. With his battle-rifle raised and ready, Mason descended the stairs while pressing his back against the wall to be able to see around the corner, even if it was only a little. Finally, after spinning around and around for what felt like ten minutes, the team reached a level floor and another wooden door. 

“Ghost, you're up.” Mason whispered. Ghost squeezed past Mason in the cramped space. In record time, Ghost lockpicked the door. Then, signaling to Mason, he raised his rifle and swung the door open, quickly entering the room with Leo following. 

 

As expected, it was a simple storage space for the tower guards, containing spare swords, bows, arrows and other items should the wall be attacked. Ghost set to work again on the main door to the tower while the rest of the team lounged around.

“Seems a bit daft to leave all this stuff here. Not to mention how easy these locks are for Ghost.” Rose commented while browsing the selection of weapons on display.

“As the saying goes, ‘locks keep honest people out’. I’d be surprised if most would-be siegers know how to pick a lock. These doors are more to delay than anything--not to mention that Ghost has been picking locks long before he went operator.” Mason replied. Shortly after, the team’s headsets sprung to life.

“Pioneer to Whiskey, priority message.” 

“Send it Pioneer.” Mason pressed the left of his headset. 

“Contact with Angel has been re-established. Current location is the guest wing. How copy?” Pioneer seemed relieved at the news. Taking a glance at his wrist map, Mason replied.

“Solid copy Pioneer, proceeding to target, out.” He looked at the rest of his team. “ The guest wing is on our side, just need to make a dash over some open ground.” 

“Sounds risky, any other route?” Rose questioned. 

“Negative, and it should be clear with Hammer making noise at--” Mason stopped himself. 

“Exactly my point, not a single round has gone off since their breach. Now, either the drones eliminated or scared off OPFOR (Opposing Force), or…” Purposefully stopping her question short, Leo went ahead and finished it. “Or they know it’s bait.” Realizing they had possibly underestimated their opponents, Mason opened his microphone.

“Dagger to Hammer, SITREP?” 

“All quiet here Dagger. Advising OPFOR has either vacated or hasn’t taken the bait.” Hammer relayed

“Saber? Anything on your end?” 

“Negative Captain, all quiet here…something isn’t right about this.” Saber commented.

“God fuckin… Whiskey to Pioneer, requesting recon drone over the eastern wing. It’s possible OPFOR has not fallen for Hammer. How copy?” Mason waited a few painful seconds before an answer came through.

“Solid copy, recon is showing no signs of activity near your location, proceed at your own discretion.”

“Copy, Whiskey out. Let's get this done.” Mason lifted his battle-rifle. 

“Way ahead of you Mason.” Ghost was standing next to the door. 

 

Taking point again, Mason slowly opened the door. Reaching inside his vest, he pulled out a long mirror and directed it outside. 

“Damn, that's one hell of a run in gear.” Mason sighed as Ghost quickly glanced at Rose.

“Oh don’t even, I beat your ass in the competition.” Rose smirked. 

“Fair point.” Ghost mumbled. 

“Lock it up! On my say, we are sprinting to that wall. If we start taking fire, dive through the windows. Ready…now!” The first one out, Mason made for a mad dash towards The White Palace, his team not far behind. As Dagger team reached about halfway across, a dark figure stepped out from behind a rooftop chimney. 

“Shit! Contact rooftop!” Rose shouted while stopping to line up a shot with her anti-material rifle.

“Don’t stop you moron!” Ghost turned around to look at Rose, who had already taken the shot just as he felt a heavy jab into his chest. Losing his focus and balance, he tumbled forward.

“Ghost, you alright?” Lowering her rifle Rose didn't hear a confirmation as Leo had already secured Ghost, dragging him by the loops on his vest.

 

Seeing the urgency, Mason smashed a nearby window. Clearing the edge with the barrel of his gun he vaulted inside to secure the hallway. Not long after Leo lifted Ghost to the window, pushed him through and fell to the red-carpeted floor.  

“Ugh, fuck me.” Ghost groaned. Turning him onto his back, the team was shocked to see an arrow sticking out of his vest. Setting his battle-rifle down, Mason placed his right hand underneath the vest. Pulling it out, his hand was clean.

“Didn’t puncture, looks like the plate caught it.” Mason pointed to the arrow with a low chuckle. 

“Still stung like a bitch!” Ghost protested. Sitting up he removed the arrow and unzipped the plate pouch to examine the damage. The arrow itself looked to have a solid triangle head made from some metal. Looking at the plate, it only had a pin-sized hole where the arrow’s tip had hit.

“Well, at least we now know… ceramic beats medieval arrows.” Ghost took a deep breath before standing up. “Did you get the bastard Rose?” 

“Sure did, Tango just had half their chest removed and I’m willing to bet no amount of magic can heal that.” Rose gave a devilish smirk, then turned to Mason. “Captain, I thought recon said this area was clear. What gives?” 

“I’m about to find out. Whiskey to Pioneer, relay message to recon element.” Mason's face had started to gain tints of red.

“Solid copy Whiskey, relay when ready.” 

“Tell them to get their fucking heads out of their asses! Their actions caused my section to get ambushed and one of my men got hit with an arrow! Thank the lord it hit a plate but get your shit together!” Mason roared over the radio. A short pause followed, then a response.

“Whiskey, recon says they didn’t see shit on scope, so whatever ambushed you has the ability to hide from thermal imagery, use extreme caution. How copy?”

“Solid copy, Whiskey out. Jesus Christ magic is a pain in my ass I don’t want.” Mason picked up his battle rifle then flipped up his wrist to see the map. “Got a ping on Angel’s phone, I got point, let’s move” Mason ordered.

 

Reorganizing themselves, Dagger team moved through the hallways of the guest wing. Checking his map, Mason was now standing just outside the supposed room where Angel was…but there was no door in sight. 

“Huh, ok…gotta be a panic room or something.” Mason muttered to himself, he pinged the ambassador's phone. Soon after, a section of the wall in front of them started to dematerialize. Instinctively, they raised their weapons only to immediately lower them when American marines, Aaron and the two princesses emerged.

“Aaron, Princess Wiess, Princess Leyna, marines. We are with the United States Special Forces, and we are here to get you the hell out.” Mason nodded to Aaron who returned it. Mason turned to the marine Staff Sergeant. “What's the situation?” 

“Well Captain, suffice to say things have gone from worse to FUBAR (Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition). Whoever these insurgents are, it seems their targets are either Aaron, or the two Princesses. With the few engagements I know about, our Black-Hawks are destroyed, the rotor blades were bent and warped somehow; and to top it all, they have goddamn magic!” The Staff Sergeant reported.

“Yeah, we just got our first experience of it. Bastards somehow hid from thermal imagery and got the jump on us. Though arrows don’t fare too well against ceramic plates.” Mason jokingly slapped Ghost’s back.

“This is gonna be a running joke, isn’t it?” Ghost sighed, making some of the marines try to stifle their laughter.

“Whiskey to Pioneer, targets secured, moving to evac, over?” Mason radioed

“Solid copy whiskey, Midnight has been notified and is en route. ETA ten minutes.”

“Understood. Whiskey out. Dagger to all elements, targets secured, move to extraction.” Mason noticed Ghost adjust his headset slightly, seemingly in discomfort.

“Understood, Hammer on the way.” A static-filled response from Hammer left Mason confused and soon worried as Saber didn't report.

“Saber, everything alright?” Mason questioned. He finally received a response. A transmission filled with gunfire and shouting. 

“Command be advised! We have engaged multiple OPFOR in the dining area. Lieutenant Borad is KIA (Killed In Action), I repeat, squad leader is KIA! Requesting assistance in the right-wing, over?” The garbled transmission left everyone in a state of shock. Mostly since there was no gunfire to be heard for them.

“Whoever these assassins are, they must have created a silencing sphere and waited to ambush your soldiers.” Weiss commented. Not wasting a moment Mason jumped back on the radio.

“Hammer go assist Saber, our priority is getting the targets secure.” 

“Understood Dagger, Hammer out.” 

“You're just going to leave your friends to die?” Leyna spoke up, the mood becoming even more somber; however, Mason didn’t seem phased.

“They knew what they were signing up for…” Mason stated. “Now enough chat, we need to get moving to evac. Me and Rose will be in front with Ghost and Leo in the rear. Aaron, Wiess, Leyna stay in the center, everyone else find a spot to fit in and not cause problems, Understood?” With a nod of heads, the group started the move towards the evac point.

 

Meanwhile… 

   

“Fucking shit!” Diego shouted, diving to the floor as a fireball missed him by mere inches and set a curtain alight. Looking up he saw his squadmates engaging the assassins with everything they could from behind pillars and overturned tables. Emerging from behind a table, Hunter unholstered his 40mm grenade launcher. 

“Deflect this bitch!” Hunter taunted, firing the grenade launcher at one of the assassins. As before, a yellow circle with runes appeared before the cloaked figure. However, unlike the bullets before, the grenade's explosion shattered the defensive rune, causing the assassin to be flung back.

“Damn outsiders! You have no place in this land!” One cloaked person yelled.

“Well suck my ass pretty boy! The United States Marines are here to stay!” A marine jeered from behind an overturned table riddled with arrows. 

 

Reloading his rifle, Diego continued to fire at the group of seven assassins, but as before, their defensive runes protected them. Even with the combined rifle fire from four Special Forces and six marines, they had failed to kill even one of the assassins while they in turn had managed to sneak an arrow into Borad’s neck, fatally wounding him. 

“Lieutenant! With all due respect sir, what the fuck is the plan here?” One marine next to him asked. 

“Simple, we buy time for Dagger to extract our targets. The fate of America rests on us winning this!” Diego boomed, getting a few “Horrah!”’s from the marines. 

 

As the firefight continued, with neither side prepared to back down, Hunter again pulled out his grenade launcher and tapped the leg of a nearby marine.

“Seems like whatever shield shit they're using doesn't react well to explosions. See what I’m getting at?” Hunter watched as the marine tried to figure it out and a smile slowly formed.

“Understood, oh boy, they are about to get an ass-whooping.” 

Peaking over the table, Hunter fired another grenade into the assassins. As expected, a shield appeared but was shattered by the explosion. When the dust settled, six of the assassins had been pushed back by the explosion and, in the following hail of bullets, the seventh was left bleeding on the floor. Quickly catching on, a marine with an underbarrel launcher loaded and fired, then swiftly switched back to his rifle and again fired into the dust cloud. 

 

Caught in the dust cloud one of the assassins pulled a small wand about the size of a stick from beneath their cloak. They seemed to channel their energy into it and, in mid-air, artistically drew the number four.

“I’ll show you power, you uncivilized creatures! Arcus Tempestatis!” With those words, the rune shined a bright cyan color then released a massive discharge of lightning towards the Americans, shattering some of the tables and severely damaging the stone pillars with the Americans behind them being thrown back with substantial force.

“Holy fuck…” Diego muttered. “Saber to Hammer, where the hell are you!” he screamed into his radio and received an open transmission.

“Alright Kool-Aid Man that bitch!” Hammer yelled followed by the distinct sound of a rocket being fired and the wall to the right of the assassins practically disintegrated. With stone and metal fragments flying at high speeds, some of the defensive runes gave way and allowed the fragments to shred the assassins amid yells of pain and anguish.    

 

With the tide of the battle turning toward the Americans. The remaining two assassins decided to cut their losses. One retrieved a small orange gemstone from a pouch around their waist and whispered something into it before throwing it at their feet. Shortly after, the crystal began billowing a grayish cloud.

“Shit! Gas!” Diego took a few steps back. Retrieving his gasmask and placing it over his face, he and the other Americans held their ground as the gray cloud continued to billow from the crystal.

“Permission to shoot that orange thing sir?” One marine asked. Receiving a nod of approval, he delivered a single shot into the crystal, causing it to completely shatter. Soon after the gray cloud began to dissipate. Looking to the opposite side of the room, the assassins used it as a smokescreen to make their escape. 

“Shit! And I was hoping to get all of them with that,” Declared Hammers squad leader, Lieutenant Jones, stepping through the breach. He stopped when he saw how messed up Diego's side of the room was. “Oh fuck, please don’t say I caused that.”

“You didn't. One of them pulled out a wand and fired what I’m gonna report as lightning. Anyone injured?” Diego called out.

“If pride counts then yes, otherwise I’m good!” One marine blown back from a shattered table announced, others joining in with laughter or grunts of disapproval.

“Saber to Dagger, OPFOR has withdrawn, five tangos down. Possible injuries with the marines….” Diego paused then forced himself to say what he dreaded the most. “...Lieutenant Borad is KIA.”

“Understood Saber, maintain position until evac arrives. Recon has spotted OPFOR moving towards the city center, likely cutting their losses. Midnight’s ETA is three minutes.” 

“Solid copy Dagger, maintaining position. Saber out.” Kneeling next to Borad, Diego patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry brother, I’ll make damn sure to return the favor ten times over, rest easy… you did your country proud.” Diego stood up and saluted, with the other Americans following suit. 

Lieutenant James Borad, Age 26. America’s first reported casualty in ‘The New World’.