The Aryan tanks were no less dangerous though and as their turrets tracked the small helicopters they fired and the bright purple plasma sprang forward and washed over three Huey’s; they were instantly turned into falling shrapnel.
Suddenly one of the immobilized Maus tanks was hit with a hail of falling shells. A large explosion followed and as the smoke cleared; all that remained of the area was several large shell craters; the monstrous tank ceased to exist.
Another salvo violently crashed into another Maus causing it to disappear in a ball of fire. The marines in the Pentagon cheered even louder. They started to believe they may have a chance of holding the advance here.
The American’s trump card was moored in the Potomac River, just south of the airport. The recently reactivated USS New Jersey’s nine, massive 406 mm guns bristled angrily. The 887 ft Iowa-class vessel is the last remaining battleship in the world. It was being utilized as a massive artillery piece.
A loud screeching sound announced the arrival of the heavy Aryan battle tank. The burning rock blocked caved in almost instantly as the Maus battered its way through; the charred frame of a lorry was pushed out of the way effortlessly.
A group of M48 Patton tanks opened fire, the rounds bounced harmless off the monsters armor. The Patton’s dispersed while continuing to fire on the move. The rounds kept hitting home but they were still ineffective.
Rhode Island Ave NW was now a burning mess of tangled vehicle hulls. The Aryan tank rotated its giant turret and focused on a Patton medium tank that was trying to flank it. The Maus fired and the plasma round clipped the back of the M48, crippling the tracks.
Three more huge tanks smashed their way through the barriers and started to fire, a US medium tank went up in flames, and the screams of the trapped burning crewman soon fell silent.
Cobra attack helicopters raced over the top of the capitol building and headed straight towards the advancing enemy armor. They flew in low and let their 70 mm rockets fly free. A Maus took the full brunt of the assault; the turret ring was shot to pieces.
Three M48’s speed forward as the crews sensed blood. The first Patton was too eager and could not react in time as a large flash of purple spat out from the damaged Maus. The plasma washed over the front of the Patton, at point-blank range the crew had no chance of survival.
The Maus clicked into reverse, gathering a surprising amount of speed quickly the tank rolled back through the roadblock which prevented the American mediums from flanking it. The cupola popped open and a soldier in full black-clad body armor appeared. He propped up what looked like a rocket launcher and rested the tube over his shoulder.
A Cobra helicopter was on the start of its strafing run and it opened up with its two multi-barrel miniguns. The bullets pinged and rebounded off of the tarmac in front of the tank. As the rounds closed in on the super heavy tank the Aryan soldier did not move. He aimed the launcher and then squeezed the trigger.
A glowing white orb zoomed straight into the attack helicopter as if it was under the soldier’s direct control. The cockpit of the Cobra completely evaporated while the rest of the fuselage crashed to the ground.
A second wave of Cobras flew in as low as they could; they were almost kissing the turf. They fast helicopters lined up for their attack runs but just as they were in position a wall of purple balls washed towards them.
The helicopters took immediate evasive action but the orbs seemed to aggressively change course and continued to levitate towards their targets. One competent pilot managed to fly low enough to get the orb to detonate on the roof of a building. Others were not so lucky.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“No idea Taff but we need to get out of here.”
“Negative we are the only ones covering the ground forces.”
Cobra one and two flew low over the tops of the buildings and then banked for another attack on the tanks. A stream of plasma washed out from above them. The steady stream of superheated light cut into Cobra two and the smoking helicopter crashed into the houses below.
The pilot of Cobra one looked over his shoulder and to his great dismay he saw an Me 262 fighter leveling off after a steep dive.
“Shit, command this is cobra one, we have 262’s for company. Repeat we need immediate fast air support. Acknowledge we have 262’s.”
Relentless
F4 Phantoms roared in fast and low. The sky was littered with aircraft; it was difficult to lock onto targets; the radar guided AIM-7 missiles were useless in this environment.
The lead Phantoms rushed onto the tail of the nimble Me 262 fighter. The Aryan plane immediately started to swing left and right to prevent the Sparrow missiles locking on. The Me 262 was exceptionally maneuverable and rushed skywards with extreme speed.
Powerful twin engines growled as the American pilots maxed the throttle in pursuit.
“You’re not getting away this time!” Flight leader Barton said to himself. The petite blonde pilot waited patiently; finally, he managed to get the targeting reticle to lead the target. He smiled as he pulled the trigger.
The powerful Gatling gun in the nose span into life, 20 mm rounds spewed out at the rate of 6000 rounds per minute. The Aryan pilot was taken by surprise and was slightly too slow to react. The rear of his plane was shot to pieces and a trail of smoke poured out from the crippled aircraft.
Barton repositioned his fighter slightly and then squeezed the trigger again. The rounds tore through the side of the tumbling Me 262; seconds later the plane exploded in a large fireball. Barton’s radar operator scanned the sky for the pilot but he had not ejected.
The air was now filled with a brilliant light show as plasma fire was accompanied by the long streaks of smoke from missiles and the beautiful red of tracer rounds. F4’s crisscrossed the paths of Me 262s in a deadly ballot.
The battle of Rhode Island Ave raged below. Cobra attack helicopters let out another volley of missiles. A tracked Tiger I was knocked out but the crew scrambled out and began laying down covering fire on a group of Americans who had ventured too close.
M48 Pattons continued to fire on the move because they knew it was game over if they were hit by the Maus’s deadly main gun.
A Maus exploded as it tried to advance through a narrow street. It was struck by another salvo from the USS New Jersey. The fighting had grown in intensity around the Pentagon in the last half an hour or so.
Sergeant Peters-Smith was worried but he knew they had to hold this area at all cost otherwise the airport would be under direct threat; without air support the city would fall.
A ball of plasma washed over the front of the last self-propelled gun.
“Sir, the last of our mobile artillery is gone. What do you think we should do now?”
“Bring the fire from the New Jersey in closer and keep the roof batteries firing. We can’t let them advance any further!” Peters-Smith ordered.
A silver flash streaked passed the roof of the Pentagon as a Navy Phantom flew over. It trailed smoke as a Me 262 continued to hose plasma in the air around it. The Phantom pilot was fighting hard to keep his plane out of the line of fire.
A second streak of silver followed a few seconds later. It was the Phantoms wingman who had managed to sneak up on the Aryan pilot. A satisfying growl reverberated in the wingman’s ear; he knew he was locked on and squeezed the trigger.
To the relief of the young pilot the Sidewinder whooshed forward and tracked the target perfectly. The missile sped at the target but at the last second the Me 262 broke hard right and then rotated one hundred and eighty degrees in an impossible maneuver.