“Well… it looks like we’re waiting on Third Platoon to arrive,” Martinez said, using a tone that was half laughing, half ready to cry. “I guess we’d better work on getting our position as prepared as possible for an incoming enemy attack.”
The Rangers of Fourth Platoon went to work, feverishly getting their positions ready as best they could to repel an enemy advance. They set their heavy machine guns up to provide interlocking fields of fire and prepared a couple of positions ready where they would place the company’s five 81mm mortar tubes once they arrived.
Martinez and Price continued to talk on the side about the situation at hand, and eventually agreed that if any of those tanks or BMPs attacked their position, orders or not, they would fall back to the base. They didn’t have any weapons that could stand up to a tank. At least on the base, they had those Strykers that packed TOWs, and some were equipped with 105mm and 20mm antitank weapons.
Morning turned to early afternoon, and then Third Platoon arrived with 48 extra Rangers and their mortar tubes. The added soldiers began to dig a series of three-man foxholes at the perimeter of the forest preserve and set up their three additional machine guns. Then the Rangers continued to wait for news that their artillery support had finally arrived so they could start to put a world of hurt on the forces building up before them.
“Zombie Four-Six, Zombie Six. How copy?” called their commander.
Lieutenant Martinez called back, “Zombie Six. Zombie Four-Six. Good copy. Send.”
“I’ve just received word the air base is officially operational. Five AT-6 Wolverines are now en route to the base, along with a cargo plane bringing munitions and fuel for them. We’ll have tactical air support available within a few hours. Break.
“The battery of 105mm Howitzers we’ve been waiting on will be ready to start fire missions within thirty mikes. A second battery of 155mm Howitzers will be operational in ninety mikes. Start prioritizing targets for the gun bunnies. Break.
“The base commander wants to keep you guys in your current location to spot for the artillery and ground-attack planes until closer to evening. Then we’ll look to pull you guys back closer to the base. How copy?” confirmed Major Fowler.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Martinez was glad they weren’t going to have to spend any more time in this position than they had to. “That’s a good copy on all. We’ll prioritize the enemy armor first, then work our way down to the troop concentrations. Is it possible to get any HIMARS support from Chennai?” asked Martinez.
“Negative on HIMARS. They’re tasked with the battle in the north. Do your best. Zombie Six, out.”
Lieutenant Martinez called Third Platoon leader, First Lieutenant Franklin, and Sergeant Price over to talk with them. A few minutes later, they gathered around the drone operator with a few pads of paper and their Air Force TACP and artillery FSO LNO to go over targets.
After reviewing the drone footage, the FSO LNO spoke up. “Sir, if I may, I’d like to recommend that artillery focus on hitting the lightly armored and nonarmored trucks and vehicles the militia appear to be using. If we can destroy their rides, then we can largely force them to move on foot. That would obviously slow them down and allow us to continue to harass them at will with remaining artillery.”
This option drew the approval of everyone there.
The Air Force TACP suggested, “I think we should have the AT-6 Wolverines focus exclusively on destroying the enemies’ tanks for the time being. We have zero armor support of our own to rely on, so taking out the enemy’s armor has to be their top priority.”
Martinez nodded.
The TACP continued, “Following the destruction of the enemy tanks, the Wolverines could focus more on going after the enemy troop concentrations, which are looking more and more intimidating as the reinforcements keep piling on.” They all glanced at the drone feed. There was no denying he was right.
Lieutenant Martinez was on board so far. “Rather than starting our artillery barrage as soon as artillery support is available, I think we should hold off until the Air Force says they’re ready on their end,” he said. He held up a hand to preempt any questions. “That way, we hit the enemy hard all at once and cause as much confusion and disorganization as possible.”
The other men nodded; it was a solid plan. At 1500 hours, with only maybe four hours of light left, all the pieces of the puzzle were finally in place. The five AT-6s had just lifted off from the airfield and were now moving in to hit the enemy armor. The planes would go in first, and then the artillery barrage would start in earnest.
First Lieutenant Kimberly “Sparkles” McNeal was both exhausted and excited. Her squadron, the newly created 359th “Death Dealers,” had drawn the short end of the stick and had to ferry their planes from Indonesia to India while their sister squadron was able to have their planes disassembled and flown directly to Chennai. With four drop tanks of fuel, the Death Dealers had able to make the flight, but it had been a very long and arduous one.
Once they’d arrived in Chennai, she’d had little time to rest before her squadron had received orders to move out. Before she knew it, she was on her way to a small forward air base deep behind enemy lines to support a group of Rangers and infantry facing an overwhelming number of enemy soldiers.
She’d arrived at the spartan air base barely twenty minutes ago, and they’d already been briefed on their next mission and quickly sent back into the air. As Lieutenant McNeal flew toward her target, she looked to her left and then to her right and saw her flight mates, which made her feel much better about her first combat mission. Having only graduated flight school four weeks ago, she was eager to prove herself to her male counterparts. As the only female pilot in her squadron, so she’d been given the call sign “Sparkles,” which suited her just fine.
She smiled when she looked briefly at her wings through the large bubbled canopy and saw the four AGM-65 Mavericks she was carrying. Sparkles relished the opportunity to destroy some tanks. She also had two rocket pods carrying seven 70mm antimaterial rockets for added punch.
Suddenly, her radio crackled to life. “Death Dealers, we’re going to move down to 3,000 feet and line up for our attack from the east.” While each of the pilots had their own call signs, they also went by DD one through five — a shortened version of Death Dealers — to keep themselves identified with their air traffic controllers.
“I want DD 1 and 2 to go in first, then DD 3 and 4 next, and I’ll follow in last. Remember, our first pass is meant to go after the tanks,” ordered their flight leader, Captain Adrian “Beaker” Adler.
Each flight of two moved to their loitering and attack positions, roughly fifteen kilometers away from the enemy they were about to attack. Thus far, they hadn’t detected any enemy air defenses, but that didn’t mean they weren’t lying in wait for them either.
The first flight of Death Dealers swooped in out of the late-afternoon sun, completely catching the enemy by surprise. Both aircraft were able to identify and engage eight of the T-72 tanks, scoring hits before the enemy even realized they were under air attack. As the planes pulled away from their victims, a slew of antiaircraft fire erupted around them, giving chase to the fleeing aircraft.
The element of surprise had been broken, but the second wave of Death Dealers lined up for their own attack, this time angling from a different direction and altitude to throw off the defenders, who would now be waiting for them.
Checking the arming switch on her missiles, Sparkles felt confident going into her first-ever attack run on a real enemy. Her turbocharged engine roared hard as she picked up speed, fully opening the throttle up as she sped up to stay in formation with her wingman, “Hedge,” who’d acquired his call sign based on his last name, Hedgerow.