Chapter 57 – Turned Table?
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Warning: Consists of some minor "torture"

0934 April 14th, 2020 CE

Guantanamo Bay, New Frontier

They dragged the elf into a dimly lit room. One of the humans faced him. 

“What were your country’s plans?”

“What kind of building does your Leader live in? What do they look like?”

“How large is your navy?”

A slap was given on the abdomen each time the elf stayed quiet. Each slap grew stronger and stronger. 

“Answer the damn questions!”

A slap was given on the face. The elf had tears in his eyes but still spat on the ground. He snorted

“You think slapping me for a bit will make me talk. Don’t make me laugh. You fucking inferior…”

He was grabbed and had his face slammed into the wall. 

“You think that’s enough to…”

He was slammed into the wall again. Blood was gushing out of his nose. There were bruises on his face. This process of slapping and walling continued for hours. 

 

1624 April 13th, 2020 CE

1112 Sun 13th, 196 AE

Frontline

Lieutenant Colonel Manfred Rogers stretched in his Abrams and sighed.

Using night vision, they had kept an eye to see if any elves were coming over to surrender. An hour had just passed and there were no signs of any. 

He got on his radio to contact the other Lieutenant Colonels in the 1st Armored Brigade Combat Teams of the 1st Armored Divison. 

<<<“They aren’t surrendering.” 

“Well, the Colonel told us that the F-15s are already en route.>>>

The Lieutenant Colonel of the 4th Battalion, 1st Field Artillery Regiment that was in their Armored Brigade Combat Team joined in on the conversation. 

<<<“Our artillery will begin once the bombing runs are finished.”>>>

Zooming past overhead, F-15s unleashed a torrent of bombs onto the disorganized elven forces below. There was a response of blind and inconsistent anti-aircraft fire that had little effect. The elves couldn’t even see their targets. Their comrades who had escaped had left behind searchlights. However, the human aircraft was so fast that the searchlights were completely useless. 

Scott looked out of his F-15’s window. Bright orange explosions lit up the pitch-black beaches. He gave a thumbs-up to his Weapon System Officer, Gerald Wallace, who was sitting in the seat behind him. 

Scott banked his F-15 to the left to get ready for another bombing run. 

Corporal Daejor hugged his legs. 

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. Oh gods, please save me.”

He rocked back and forth in the hole he had dug only a few hours ago. 

His Guard magipanzer had been destroyed from an air attack and his crew has already scattered. He didn’t even have any weapons on him other than his pistol. He also had no commanders to answer to. Other than the colonel that was currently taking charge, elves were following whoever was the highest-ranked of the survivors of their units. Corporal Daejor had no idea where his unit was. 

It was pitch black in the hole but there were constant flashes from the explosions that shook the ground like an earthquake. 

 

Miles behind the Frontline 

“All aircraft have dropped their payloads. It’s our turn now.”

The guns on M109A7 Paladins of the 4th Battalion, 1st Field Artillery Regiment all traversed upwards in unison. The blasts of the gun rocked the air. The self-propelled artillery moved back a bit from the force of the blast. 

 

A few minutes later

Frontline

The explosions stopped. To the elves, it was a sign that the American assault would begin. The elven infantry in their foxholes and poorly organized trenches gripped their weapons and peeked out. The magipanzer crews stayed quiet in their magipanzers. Anticipation was heavy in the air. Lights had all been turned off in order to surprise the Americans. 

 

Then, the ground shook suddenly. The Americans haven't begun their assault. They were just getting ready for another round of firing. 

 

Throughout the night, the firing let up only for short intervals. It switched constantly from American aircraft bombing runs and artillery strikes. 

 

A few hours later

A convoy of trucks appeared on the road. The truck in front of the convoy stopped a few yards from the line of firing M109A7s. The Lieutenant Colonel of the 4th Battalion, 1st Field Artillery Regiment walked to meet the men exiting the truck. He shouted to someone on his left. 

“Bannock. The Magusians are here.”

Bannock walked up towards them. 

“Are you with the 26th Brigade Field Artillery?”

“Yes. We have orders to support you. You are the 4th Battalion, 1st Field Artillery Regiment correct?”

A blast from a Paladin interrupted their conversation.

“Yes. We are unsure of the range of your guns so you might need to get closer. Wait a second.”

Bannock turned towards his Lieutenant Colonel. 

“We are going to need to give them a map that marks where the elves are. I don’t think their guns have the range of ours.”

“I will get someone to grab it.”

Bannock turned back towards the Magusian commanders. 

“Give us a second. We will show you where you need to fire.” 

 

2230 April 13th, 2020 CE

0215 Sun 14th, 195 AE

<<<“Cease fire! Cease fire!”>>>

All around the front, the artillery immediately died down. This command was also given out to the Magusian artillery units through their communication lines. Only the tip of the sun was out of the horizon. For nearly 6 hours, hundreds of thousands of pounds of bombs and shells were dropped on the elves. 

 

Captain John Rose directed his tanks forward. The orders had been given many hours ago. Once the cease fire order was given to the artillery, all other ground units would begin an advance. 

 

Issac and his infantry platoon slowly walked forward. They had disembarked from their Bradleys earlier. The ground was full of craters. It seemed highly doubtful that anybody had survived. Then they heard voices.

“We surrender! We surrender! Please don’t shoot.”

They couldn’t understand them but it was clear from their hands that were up and the lack of weapons they were carrying that they were surrendering.

 

An American infantryman looked down into a foxhole. He laughed. 

“Hey, this guy in this hole is still alive. Get over here. You gotta look at this. He’s asleep.”

A few other infantrymen walked towards the hole. 

“Hey, wake up!”

“Huh. Wh…”

Daejor blinked his eyes and looked around before slowly putting his hands up. There were humans surrounding his hole and had their guns pointed at him. He realized that he had fallen asleep during the bombardment since it was day now. 

 

0424 April 14th, 2020 CE

0512 Sun 14th, 195 AE

Afvalin, Elven Nation

Zeno was pacing around in Tarron’s office. He had some dark circles under his eyes.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with the Hexenbesens. I’m sure of it. We looked through everything! Every little detail. They should have worked.”

Tarron sighed. 

“But they didn’t. Are you sure you aren’t overlooking anything?”

“Unless they were shot down, then I haven’t overlooked anything. The fuel consumption is correct. There were no problems with the rocket en…”

Zeno got interrupted.

“Wait, stop.”

“What?”

“Say the first few words of what you just said again.”

He blinked.

“Unless they were shot down, then…”

“Stop.”

“What? You can’t be serious. The Hexenbesens have a speed of more than 700 miles per hour. Nearly the speed of sound. Nothing can shoot it down.”

Tarron sighed yet again.

“Nothing in our arsenal but what about the Americans? Their aircraft obviously can go faster than the speed of sound. It won’t be far-fetched if they have technology capable of shooting down aircraft that can fly at the speed of sound. We have technology capable of shooting down our own aircraft. The Americans should have technology capable of shooting down their own too.”

Tarron shook his head before continuing.

“The Hexenbesens aren’t going to work. I’m putting a stop to all Hexenbesen production.”

“What?! You can’t just do this! They will work! If we fire a large enough amount of them, then we can surely overwhelm whatever defenses they have set up.”

Tarron set down his pen.

“I know you were very invested in this project but we need the material for the jets. The Hexenbesens aren’t working and we don’t have time to produce more. Even if it’s just an issue as you originally said and it wasn’t the Americans shooting them down, we don’t have time to fix it.”

 

0506 April 13th, 2020 CE

0533 Sun 14th, 195 AE

Somewhere in the “Pacific”

Admiral Edyrm Vaynore sat quietly in his office. His aircraft carrier rocked up and down in the violent waves. A large storm system was over them. Outside, the sky was dark and the waves were ceaseless. A massive formation of ships moved forwards. Each ship going up and down the violent tides. 

 

Joint Region Marianas, Guam

A radar operator started to look a bit panicked as he watched his screen.

“Holy shit. Ummmm… guys… you guys gotta take look at this.”

“Is there an issue with the radar?”

“I don’t think it is…um... it might be the entire elven navy.”

 

Washington D.C.

President Hayes was clearly agitated. 

“How did the satellites not see that large of a fleet? It’s a 100 ship fleet for crying out loud.”

Secretary of Defense Cralson had a glum look on his face. 

“Clouds, sir. By their luck, a massive storm is moving through that entire area.”

“What units do we currently have based in Guam?”

“Not much. We have stopped the continuous rotation of our bomber forces there since we no longer have any adversaries in the Pacific. It is also much faster to go across the Atlantic to reach the Imperiums so units have been redeploying from Guam. However, from the direction that they are going. They are going to completely miss Guam. They are heading straight for Hawaii.”

Cralson paused shortly before continuing again.

“We have time. If they were going for Guam. We would have been in trouble. We can rush a response using ships, submarines, and aircraft from Naval Base San Diego and Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam. There are also additional units in other naval bases and Air Force bases across the West Coast. We can father what we have and assemble an organized response. If push comes to shove, we can try to reactivate the USS Missouri in Honolulu.”

“The USS Missouri? The battleship? Isn’t that just a museum piece now? How are we even going to use it as a naval ship? I doubt it can even move.”

“Well, we are not going to use it as a ship. We can use it as a stationary missile platform. There are four Mk 141 Harpoon Launchers and eight Mk 143 Armored Box Launchers that were installed in the late 1980s. Those weapon platforms can probably be reactivated in time. Phalanx CIWs that can maybe still be used. We need everything we have got.”

There you have it, folks. A lot of you have requested it. An Iowa-class battleship. This is probably the closest I'm gonna to actually having the Iowas reactivated. 

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