A War On Two Fronts

It had been about two weeks since the pipeline and the night patrol, in that time not a heck of a lot had happened. The city of Harlobask was now firmly in Equestrian control, and as expected the Griffons had gone through their fuel reserves rapidly. That coincided with the arrival of a new weapon in the Equestrian arsenal, the RWB Conquistador. The night patrol of the town now known as Justadot had been uneventful, at least that was the official story. The subsequent airstrike that leveled the entire abandoned location was just ‘target practice’.

The Griffons, lacking the arcane fuel to evacuate their airship fleet, had been forced to land them until they could procure more. This in essence made them very large targets, targets that the newly arrived fighter-bombers were more than capable of hitting. The assault on Havarit had started two days prior, and the deployment of the 2nd Division was looming on the horizon. Turner and his men drove along in the convoy that was approaching the vital Griffon control point. Capturing the city would not only net the Equestrians access to its vast Steel reserves but effectively cut the Griffon’s control of the Minotaur Republic in half.

Several Conquistadors zoomed overhead towards the city in the distance, large pillars of smoke rising up from the smoke. Turner looked out the window at the aircraft and sighed, thinking about his wife back home… It was her that was responsible for those glorious machines of destruction. The strategy for taking the city was, admittedly, the same as it had been for taking Acksyuk and Harlobask. Except this time they had split their forces to encircle the city before sending the Shock Troops in… Something that had become known as ‘Engulf and Devour’.

Turner leaned back in his seat as the distant howl of two descending Conquistadors cut through the air, each man in the convoy watched as they screamed down towards their targets somewhere within the town, two explosions rocked the city as the aircraft peeled off. The man looked out his window at a group of vehicles that had been parked several yards from the road. A few Marshals as well as the heavier supply trucks, as Turner’s vehicle drove past he saw that there were towed artillery pieces in the final stages of preparations.

The Staff Sergeant could hear them start to boom as the truck drove past, in the city ahead he could see massive explosions begin to shake the ground. Buildings were blasted apart, though they seemed focused on certain structures rather than just willy nilly as the shore bombardment had been at Barbos. Turner’s attention was then drawn to the bombed out remains of the once mighty Griffon Airships that lay scattered around the city, rusted by heat and charred from the intense fires that had rendered them into nothing but scrap metal. There were small clusters of troops set up beside them, using the massive hulks as cover against Griffon gunfire.

“Ghost Rider One-Actual, this is Crossroads.” Thomas’ voice came over the radio as Turner’s truck passed by a few other artillery batteries that were being set up. The man looked over at Guillermo in the driver’s seat for a moment before he picked up the radio mic.

“This is Ghost Rider One-Actual. Send it, Crossroads.” Turner replied calmly, even as the convoy drew closer and closer to the city. He could feel the familiar concern forming in his gut, he sincerely hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat of the Barbos landings.

“Be advised, the Minotaur Partisans have opened fire on several of our units. Rules of Engagement have shifted. Partisan forces are now deemed hostile, engage at will.” Thomas said firmly, Turner sighed before nodding to himself and looking out the window. “Your objective to link up with the Partisans is therefore cancelled, your squad will continue with the main assault force. How copy?”

“Ghost Rider One-Actual copies all, Rules of Engagement updated.” Turner replied before clearing his throat. “Ghost Rider One-One, you get all that?”

“Loud and clear, Sarge.” Gorka’s voice replied, he sounded honestly a little conflicted about what to do. Turner could see why, fighting Griffons was one thing, but fighting your own people had to be something entirely. Who knew why the Partisans had decided to do what they’d done, that was honestly above the Staff Sergeant’s pay grade. As the trucks neared the city the shelling seemed to move further into its center, the planes above were still strafing targets in the city. It seemed that, thankfully, the Griffons had withdrawn from the outer edge of the city. The vehicles approached it without taking any substantial fire, though much of the bravado being shown earlier had been subdued by the sobering radio conversation.

Eventually all the trucks came to a stop in and around a small compound of buildings, Turner straightened his helmet and ensured he had all of his equipment before opening the door and climbing out. His men followed suit, grabbing their own weapons prior to exiting the truck. Gorka and his fireteam linked up with Turner, and the squad began moving along with the other forces that were also dismounting their vehicles.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Move!” A dragon officer was shouting from the hood of one of the trucks while pointing towards the city, not two seconds later his head exploded in a spray of red mist from a sniper’s bullet. Just like that, Turner and his men were back in the thick of it. The assault forces surged forward out of the compound of small rustic looking structures towards the very much adobe structure. Honestly, the city reminded Turner more of something out of North Africa than Spain.

Two other assault forces were commencing from other points around the city, they would force the Griffon’s back into the center and eventually force them to capitulate or be forced to clear them out with force. Turner and his squad were once again mere faces in the crowd as they charged down the main street of the town with their comrades. There were too many for Turner to count, but it was definitely more than five hundred. Shops lined either side of the street, many of them were closed or bombed out, as gunfire rang out from inside the city it was difficult to tell where it was coming from.

“Stay on my ass and keep your heads down! This is gonna get bad before it gets better!” Turner shouted over the noise. Guillermo, Agusti, Carmelo, Renzo as well as Gorka’s team ducked a little lower as they continued moving along the street. The force split up into two columns that ran on either side of the street, fireteams would branch off and begin clearing houses while the rest kept moving along the main road.

Bullets began to kick up around the men, but there was little in the way of cover on the cobblestone street other than doorways, and they were barely big enough for one man. They had to keep moving, thankfully it seemed that the fire wasn’t very accurate. After two very tense minutes they came to an intersection where several large roadblocks had been fashioned out of furniture and a few destroyed market carts. Turner held up a hand, halting his squad while the rest of the columns kept moving towards this area… His eyes focused on the windows of the buildings that bordered the crossroads.

“This doesn’t feel right, we should be knee deep in Griffs right now.” Turner said under his breath as he looked down and checked his SMG, his eyes moving towards the troops that had moved into the intersection. His attention was drawn towards movement behind one of the upper floor windows. “Holy shit… Ambush! Upper levels! Upper levels!” The men that had entered the intersection didn’t stand a chance as the windows were thrown open, several Griffon machine guns pushed out and opened up on the soldiers caught in what was literally a killbox.

“Get out of there! Move move move!” Another NCO shouted as the soldiers caught in the crossfire began trying to run back to safety. Turner meanwhile signaled for his squad to follow him as he approached a shop that bordered the area, he could hear the gunfire from the front door. They didn’t have much time to go over any sort of plan, this was all based on the training that Turner had given them. Turner booted open the door and stood aside, as expected several gunshots rang out from within.

“Get a nade in there!” Turner ordered, Gorka pulled a fragmentation grenade from his belt and yanked the pin before tossing it through the open door. The explosion blow out several windows, and Turner could hear the scattering impact of fragmentation grenades hit the stone on the other side of the wall. “Go!” Guillermo was the first to enter the room, followed by Agusti, Turner and the rest. The shop appeared to be some sort of smoking joint, judging by the destroyed items scattered around the somewhat dark but gaudily decorated interior. Two minotaurs lay dead on the floor near where the grenade had gone off, the dust still hanging in the air.

The bodies were adorned in salvaged Griffon equipment, and armed with Griffon weapons. It was clear these were partisans. The squad didn’t take time to say anything, instead moving towards a staircase and cautiously ascending to the next floor. The gunfire had subsided, but each Trooper knew that someone was still there. Turner took a fragmentation grenade from his belt as they passed several open doors in the upstairs hallway, each room was empty save for crates and captured griffon equipment.

The last door was closed, it was made of flimsy looking wood and had a sign on it that Turner assumed meant ‘Employees Only’. The man quietly gripped the handle and cautiously turned it, he nudged it open a few inches before looking at his men and holding up the grenade. They took several steps back as Turner pulled the pin and tossed it through the opening in the door. There was a surprised yell from inside as Turner ran back towards his troops, followed by yet another tremendous boom.

This time there was no stone to stop the fragmentation, Turner just barely managed to dive into one of the open rooms as a piece of shrapnel whizzed through the thin wooden door left a gash in Turner’s forearm. The man hissed in pain as he landed on the ground, looking at the wound with an angry expression. It wasn’t a serious injury, but it hurt like hell.

“Fucking fuck!” Turner swore loudly as he looked around the room, the only other person in it was Agusti. The minotaur looked at the Staff Sergeant’s wounded arm with surprise and a bit of panic, Turner meanwhile sat up against the wall and looked around at the various bits of Griffon equipment that had been stashed there. He grabbed a small olive drab metal container with a red circle on it, from what he could tell it was a first aid kit. “You still with me, Agusti?”

“Yeah!” Agusti replied, shaking his head and sitting up as Turner opened the kit and looked through it. “Need help with that?” Turner shook his head as the minotaur moved closer, he withdrew some gauze and a clear glass bottle. Wordlessly Turner unscrewed the cap and sniffed it, then sighed. “What is it?”

“Rubbing alcohol.” Turner replied with a grimace before dumping it over the wound, he dropped the bottle and let out a loud yell of pain that caused the rest of the squad to rush towards the door. The alcohol burned like nothing Turner had ever felt before, but in the long run he figured it would be better than getting an infection. “Fucking goddamn son of a bitch fucking cocksucker!” He looked over at Gorka and the others who were peering through the door. “The fuck are you standing around for! Clear that room at the end of the hallway!”

Gorka nodded and the rest of the men moved towards the room that had just been fragged, meanwhile Turner was gritting his teeth. Agusti moved over and grabbed the gauze, placing it over the gash in Turner’s arm before wrapping it in a bandage he took from the aid kit. Turner leaned his head back against the wall as the private finished wrapping the bandage and securing it tightly.

“Nice work, kid… Now help me up.” Turner said as he gripped Agusti’s forearm with his good hand. The minotaur helped lift the man to his feet, which proved to be an easy task considering minotaurs were generally stronger than humans. Turner attempted to grip his SMG with his wounded arm, but grunted in pain and slipped his weapon over his back. Instead he drew his sidearm and checked the chamber to ensure it was loaded. “Still a little tender…”

“Shouldn’t we call a medevac?” Agusti asked as Turner walked out into the hallway with Agusti towards the room he’d tossed the grenade into, he pushed the hole ridden wooden door open and stepped inside. As expected there were three partisans laying on the ground as well as more salvaged Griffon equipment. Gorka and some of his men were looking over the room, while Renzo, Carmelo, and Guillermo had taken up position in one of the windows and were firing on the other ambush positions. “Sarge, you’re wounded!”

“It’s just a flesh wound, I ain’t fixin’ to leave you high and dry ‘cause I got a slightly busted wing.” Turner replied with a somewhat pained tone, he leaned out the window for a moment and fired off two rounds at one of the windows that his men were targeting before withdrawing back into cover. He peeked through another window and saw that the Equestrian forces were gradually advancing, several fireteams were starting to breach and clear the buildings surrounding the intersection. A few minutes later the gunfire from the upper floors stopped, indicating the insurgents had been dealt with.

“Alright, let’s get back into the fight.” Turner signalled his men to follow him, still only wielding his handgun. They moved through the building, descending the stops and exiting onto the street as wounded were being carried back to the outskirts of the city. A few trucks had been brought up, their machine guns occasionally firing off rounds at buildings where insurgents were suspected to be hiding. So far there had yet to be any real contact with the Griffons, but Turner knew that could change on a dime.

The assault forces began to move further into the city, street by street, building by building, clearing out the partisan forces that had previously been considered allies of the Equestrian military. Gradually the pain in Turner’s arm was bearable enough for him to use his SMG again, but it still hurt like a motherfucker and would likely warrant a trip to a field hospital when all was said and done. The hours of fighting were relentless, for Turner it was nothing he hadn’t encountered before… His men, on the other hand, were taking it a bit harder.

Fighting their way through the partisans was comparatively easy, despite earlier ambushes. As the bipedal troops moved further into the city the other divisions began coming up behind them and fortifying the areas that had been secured. The assault only met major resistance when they were five or six blocks from the city center, the Griffons had surrounded the area in a ring of steel. Tanks had been dug in and entrenched while flak guns had been leveled to open up on the advancing ground forces.

Turner and his men ducked behind a pile of bricks from a collapsed building as gunfire raked across the street, the sun overhead was starting to get lower in the sky… They suspected it was around four in the afternoon. Turner looked at his squad, what remained of it. Unfortunately, Gorka’s fireteam had been hit hard… He, Private Avid, and Molotov were the only ones left. Turner tried not to dwell on the losses.

The buildings in this portion of town were practically demolished, furniture and other personal items were strewn around the streets. Broken photographs, shredded paintings, and the occasional children’s toy. Overhead the wailing howls of the Conquistadors as they dove on the Griffon positions seemed ever present, their guns and bombs only adding to the cacophony of war. Down the street, and almost just as loud, Turner could hear the familiar sound of Equestrian bagpipes… And the rumble of loud engines.

“What the fuck do we do, Sarge!?” Guillermo shouted as they huddled behind the rubble, watching as other troops were pinned down across the street. Turner looked back at his men and ducked as several rounds impacted the bricks near his head.

“Stay down and spread out!” Turner ordered, straightening his helmet as he looked at the minotaurs and dragon under his command. Guillermo, Gorka, and the others all did there best to comply with the order… Still there wasn’t a helluva lot in the way of cover. The rumbling engines were far louder now, drowning out the bagpipes as they moved closer. Turner felt his heart sink, he knew those engines quite well... “What the fuck?! How the fuck did the Griffs get tanks behind our lines!?” He looked down the street, and sure enough he saw two Griffon G-32s roll out from a side street.

“Wait a sec, Sarge! Look at the markings!” Agusti shouted, pointing at the tanks as they turned the corner and began to roll down the street towards the Griffon defenses. They were painted in Equestrian Army olive drab, marked with crudely painted eight pointed suns as well as the words ‘Captured Tank Do Not Shoot’ painted in big bold letters on the sides. Turner let out a sigh of relief as the tanks continued to roll down the street, gradually pinned down soldiers were able to fall in behind them and use them as rolling cover.

“About goddamn time we started their own shit against them!” Turner shouted with a genuine joy he hadn’t felt for a long time, the tide seemed to be turning. If these tanks could help then it was likely there wouldn’t be a protracted battle as there had been for Acksyuk. The lead tank’s main gun blasted away, throwing a shell down range towards the entrenched griffons that had been keeping the street covered. It impacted the sandbags and exploded, tossing several of the Griffons to the ground. There was a tank entrenched there as well, from the looks of it a more advanced G-32-A, which boasted an 40mm gun. Comparatively much larger than those of the standard G-32.

The G-32-A fired off a shell of its own which struck the lead Captured tank and punched its way through the forward armor. The second captured tank fired a round of its own, which in turn disabled the Griffon armor when it struck its turret ring and made it unable to opperate its gun. Turner looked at the flaming captured tank, it had yet to be fully engulfed in fire, but the smoke was starting to get thicker. It still bore an HMG on its turret, and from the looks of it it was locked and loaded. Before anyone could stop him he had rushed out of cover and climbed up onto the wreck, his arm aching from the gash he’d sustained earlier.

Turner grabbed the HMG and began firing down range at the Griffon lines, suppressing the infantry as the other tank and the Equestrian troops continued to advance. A worballing whoosh emanated from his right, indicating that a bullet had just missed him by a few inches. He wasn’t thinking about the risk to him, or how stupid his actions were, all he wanted was to ensure that the advance continued… If it bogged down it would cost hundreds of more lives, and Turner wouldn’t let that happen, not if he could help it. Several more rounds hit the tank, Turner ducked each time, but kept firing until finally the heat of the flames was too much to bare.

The still active tank and advancing infantry were now further along, and the Griffons were starting to pull back. Turner hopped down off the tank and straightened his helmet while his troops just stared at him.

“The fuck are you standing around for? Move up with the rest of the advance!” Turner ordered, Guillermo was the first to stand up, followed by Gorka, Carmelo, Renzo, Molotov and finally Agusti. Turner and his squad continued moving with the mass of troops, the captured tank still leading the charge as they surged over the Griffon defenses. The enemy tank which had been disabled was destroyed with grenades by another squad, ensuring it couldn’t be repaired in the event of a Griffon counterattack.

“We’re getting close to the city center, I can feel it!” Gorka said as the advance passed by several destroyed buildings, it seemed there were more captured tanks being employed throughout the rest of the city as the Griffons were in a state of disarray. That, accompanied by the planes that continued to strafe their positions, made their defense somewhat chaotic. It was clear that the Griffons had been relying on their Airships to be the bulk of their defenses, with them out of commission they were clearly undermanned.

Gradually the advance picked up the pace, Turner’s Squad and the other troops were practically running down the streets as the Griffons retreated to the city center. They went five and a half blocks before meeting another patch of resistance, this time it was extremely heavy. As Turner and his men got to the fight they could see that the Griffons had tried using wrecked tanks as roadblocks, others were dug in in sandbag bunkers. The cobblestones made it practically impossible for them to dig foxholes or trenches.

“This is it, the final push!” Gorka shouted as the captured tank pushed through the roadblock with relative ease, shoving the busted tanks aside. The Griffon tanks were all pretty much out of commission or close to it, leaving only infantry to defend the city hall. In a straight up infantry on infantry fight it was clear who had the advantage.

“Ah, if you got a God, I’d start prayin’!” Turner shouted at the Griffons as the 2nd Division Shock Troops began to swarm the city square, he didn’t envy the Griffons for damn sure. Not only were they fighting a pissed off group of bipeds, the majority of those bipeds were minotaurs… Havarit was a minotaur city, and that had invigorated many of the soldiers with an extra sense of bloodlust.

The city hall was five stories tall with a large dome on its roof, much like the one in Acksyuk. Unlike Acksyuk it had several large holes blasted in its roof and dome from where bombs had fallen, the material was also more akin to the adobe stuff that made up most of the city. The windows had been boarded up for the most part, save for a few where Griffons would fire out at the advancing Equestrians. Turner and his men were sprinting towards the building when he spotted movement on the roof near the dome. Figuring it was a sniper Turner slid into cover behind a few sandbags placed on the front steps by the Griffons, his men followed suit.

However, after about thirty seconds the gunfire seemed to trail off. Turner risked looking out from around the sandbags, at which point he saw the reason for the ceasefire. A large white bedsheet had been hung from the balcony surrounding the dome. Turner quietly stood up as more Equestrians moved towards the building unimpeded, Turner let out a sigh of relief as his squad also stood up and started moving towards the building. Turner adjusted his grip on his SMG, the pain in his arm was starting to throb again.

There was a suddenly flourish of movement from one of the upper windows, as well as panicked yelling from inside. Turner looked at the window, raising his weapon on instinct. A single rifle shot rang out, seconds later Turner watched several griffons lean out the windows shouting something akin to ‘It wasn’t us!’ over and over again in broken english with their talons raised. Turner became acutely aware of a sudden pain in his abdomen, his hand slowly drifted down and felt the area, coming into contact with a warm liquid.

“G-Gorka….” Turner stammered before collapsing to the ground, putting as much pressure as he could on the wound in his left lower abdomen. Agusti and Renzo moved towards him and rolled him on his back, putting their own pressure on the wound. “I feel... Cold…”

“Corpsman!” Gorka shouted loudly as Renzo pulled his personal aid kit from his belt and popped it open. There were wounded all over from the fighting, and many more troops were heading into the building, but Gorka didn’t see anyone rushing to help. “Damnit! I need a Corpsman over here!”

“You’re gonna be okay, Sarge.” Agusti said as he held pressure on the wound, meanwhile Renzo had ripped open a packet of quick clot and dumped it on the wound. “Just hold on, we’re gonna get you fixed up.”

“That was stupid… T-That was r-really stupid of me...” Turner growled in pain as the throbbing became more intense, the burning feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. “R-Renzo… Don’t gimme any morphine.”

“Sarge, you don’t need to be tough for us-” Renzo started to reply nervously.

“No!” Turner said as he felt sharp pain in his side, by now Gorka’s shouting had drawn the attention of a 2nd Division Corpsman and a Pegasus Medic. “A-Addiction runs in my family, Renzo… I don’t wanna risk it! F-Fuckin’ terrifies me... Promise me you’ll keep that shit away!”

“Okay, Sarge… Not a drop.” Renzo replied as he continued to minister to the wound, Turner was finding it harder to breathe and he was starting to feel numbness in his legs. The two rushing medics arrived a few moments later, Turner was having trouble staying awake. Renzo and the others stood back, watching as the Staff Sergeant leaned his head back. “He doesn’t want Morphine, make sure you tell them that when you take him back!”

“You got it.” The minotaur Corpsman replied, more focused on stopping the bleeding. Agusti could hear the Staff Sergeant mumbling something, he knelt down closer to the man’s head and tried to listen.

“...grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change… The courage to change the things I can… and the wisdom to know the difference…” He just kept mumbling it over and over again, even as they loaded him onto a stretcher and started rushing him back towards the Equestrian lines. Gorka and the others watched him go, uncertain of what would become of their Staff Sergeant…

“What now, Sarge?” Renzo asked, looking at Gorka with uncertainty. Gorka quietly looked towards the town hall, his eyes narrowing as he set his jaw.

“Now we find the sonofabitch that pulled the trigger.” He growled while adjusting his helmet, the surrendering Griffon Troops were being lead out with their hands raised. Many of them were just that, Griffons. To the surprise of many, however, there were several dozen minotaurs among them as well. Perhaps most surprising were three other bipeds, a two human officers and an equally human Corporal.

“What happens when we find him?” Carmelo asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Still working that out…” Gorka said with a scowl, he gestured for the men to follow him. “Come on, let’s help ‘em secure this place.”