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Des Mielle and his men had been crawling for three hours. They all wore modified ghillie suits which gave them excellent cover in the long approach to the base. "Wait." Mielle asked Sergei Vastimov, "Where's the gunships at?" Looking through his binoculars, the gunships which had been idle and covered all morning were gone. Simply gone. "Shit. On. Me." the Vastimov said, "Boss, they were there this morning." He finished exasperated. "Maybe they put them into the hangars, on account of the wind." he said rubbing his chin. "Seems reasonable, as the rest of the aircraft seem to be missing as well." he finished. "In either regard Sergeant, you have Alpha platoon. Keep those guns off me until I do my part, I'll see you on the other side." Mielle smiled and saluted before moving off. Des Mielle was not pleased with the idea of being flanked by anti-infantry helicopters, but the strategy was sound and the assault time line had been given the green light. The whole situation was effectively out of his hands, his contacts would do as he had instructed. His men were skilled and prepared. "Those nomads, I don't know how they do it." Pilot 1, said noting the nomads to the east. It was a regular time of day for them to be passing this area on the way to a local oasis. "Seriously, this sand is outrageous." Pilot 2 added. "But there they are, on horses and camels just enduring it. Thank god for AC." he said kicking some sand out of his vent. The pair of Zaku sentries we set in staggered positions, one carrying a shouldered bazooka and other other his machine gun. Neither pilot expected trouble, there had been little to indicate any locally. But the base was on alert, the day prior a mobile suit team out of Egypt had been ambushed and destroyed in broad daylight. The compound on the surface of the mine was a simple operation. A Series of small buildings, a barracks, aircraft control tower with radio arrays and and a wire fence surrounding the structure. All of it set on concrete, and a giant elevator door. In the middle were a group of gas collection tanks, and spread across the facility in pairs were the defensive emplacements, and their crews. Mielle was sprinting, his objective straight ahead. A small guard shack on the northwest corner of the compound. He moved with his considerable athleticism and crossed the remaining 100 or so meters in seconds. Keeping low he noted the guards feet propped up on the window. "Perfect." he whispered slowly drawing his knife. He slipped into the structure and made a clean kill of the guard, and seized his uniform. Emerging moments later, he slipped his weapons into his belt and made for the hangar. He stopped short, a cold shiver running up his spine. "Not good." he said to himself. Both Zakus were out of the hangar. Both were armed. "HEY DON!" A voice yelled out at him. It was the second guard, back from a restroom break. "What are you doing out of the hut!?" Mielle turned up his collar, turned to the man, and fired a single shot into his forehead. The Zeon guard stumbled back, instantly dead, a look of shock on his face. In that cold silent moment, Mielle watched the Zakus, neither immediately moved. "RUN!" Mielle said internally. He ran, and was at once knocked off his feet by a devastating explosion. "Guys. I think Mielle's in trouble." Vastimov said looking through his scope, he couldn't see Mielle but he had a hunch. He leveled his rifle on the edge of the dune. Suddenly he saw Mielle, he saw him turn and heard it, *CRACK* A gun-shot echoed across the base, carried by the wind to the south-east. Mielle had shot the guard in the face. "It's gone to hell in a hand basket!" He yelled, noting the nomads to the east had turned suddenly towards the base brandishing guns. The two Zakus began to move. *CRACK* Vastimov fired his weapon into the gas tanks, and they ruptured with a massive explosion sending fire and debris into the air. The explosive force knocked out the cannon, which was over 50 yards away and now on fire. The cannon and its ammunition soon also detonated. The first Zaku stumbled, its camera sensors blinded briefly by the roaring explosions. The other snipers began firing accurate shots into the AAA machine gun positions, killing the crews almost instantly. Mielle stood, his ears ringing and uniform burned from the massive explosion. Everything was in slow motion, his world blurred as he stumbled back towards the guards shack.The Nomads poured gunfire, incediary devices and RPG fire into the buildings on the flightline damaging many. Both Zaku's were moving now, the first Zaku almost casually tossed a grenade into the mass of horsemen, who were obliterated by shrapnel and concussive force. He saw his plan shattered in seconds. The small hidden contingent of Draken made from the dunes with great speed towards the lift entrance. Zaku number 2 noted them and threw down his machine gun. He kicked the first Draken which exploded on his foot, and drew his heat hawk cutting the second down the middle spraying gore onto the front of his cockpit. The third Draken pilot, terrified at the spectacle fled. Mielle also fled, moving with all his available speed into the open desert to the northwest of the base. The fight was completely out of his hands, and his burns were too severe to fight anyone. Let alone a pair of Zaku. In the distance, to the south the thump thump of contra-rotating helicopter rotors could be heard, then suddenly, one of of Gunships roared low overhead firing missiles and machine gun fire into the remaining nomads, driving their remnant off. It was hovering directly over Vastimov who stood from his cover with an RPG shouldered. He fired and the round almost instantly impacted into the belly of the gunship. The Helo, rolled and slammed into the dune next to the sniper squad, burning. The two pilots scrambled from the gunship and were cut down by small arms fire from alpha squad. Vastimov noted the second gunship to the east, killing the remnants of the nomad fighters. "Time to withdraw," Vastimov told his men, "We're not doing this today. Move to the rally location." The moved quietly to the west to lick their wounds. Des Mielle - 8 CP gained, Injured 3. |