You and Me and the Devil make three

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Somewhere in North Ratomkira

Dark was not an accurate word for the remote areas of Ratomkira. Black was more accurate. As the Marquen commandos filed out of the Ratomkiran military helicopters, most of them did not notice how dark the jungle made it. The men scampered off the helicopters and headed towards the treeline.

Colonel Mathieu was a veteran of clandestine missions all over the world, but no place was dark as this. It was as if he were locked in a closet, 20 stories underground covered in cement. He should the thought from his mind to ensure that everyone was accounted for: 6 officers (Not including himself), 1 warrant officer, 12 Sergeants, 6 medics and 60 corporals and privates. The unit would be entirely self sufficient for the next few days until the next scheduled drop would occur. The men had all been briefed. Silently they moved into the Ratomkiran jungle which blotted out even the stars from their gaze. The men heard the helicopters take off and fly overhead.

The mission was not really specific of course, harass and contain the enemy. Each of the 85 men had a specific role. Some were mortar specialists, 3 were language specialists, some were demolitions experts. All were more or less infantry warfare experts. IT was clear that the A-team truly had nothing on these gentlemen.

After a three mile hike in almost pure darkness, and thanks to GPS, the men arrived at their destination. Pang Phet was a small village. Perhaps its only significance was that a paved road actually ran buy. The village of around 20 buildings was silent. The paved road was marked with potholes and stretched only for about 15 miles to a regional hub, but Pang Phet was important for another reason- 150 communist militia were stationed in the old Marquen provincial police barracks. The village had basically become a base camp rather than a place for the people to live. The entire village could fit on the ground level of a footy stadium and was surrounded by waist-high sheets of corrugated steel with a ring of barbed wire flimsily mounted on top. The Colonel checked his watch. He wanted to strike at 4:15am, before early risers were even awake. His arm shot up, silently directing his men to take positions.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Pang Phet, North Ratomkira

The Provincial Police building seemed massive. The three stories of cement imposed over the small village which had been much larger one upon a time. Mathieu slowly sighed. The building had decayed over the decades but still found some use. He brought the night vision scanner to his eyes. 2 guard towers which were about the same height as the old police building turned barracks. Through them he could see that only Tower 2 was manned. Mathieu shook his head slowly. 'Militia' he thought. Good in ambush, useless everywhere else.

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Mathieu keyed his mike and whispered 'Take Him'; a moment later Mathieu saw a flash of what he assumed were brains as two snipers simultaneously hit the man in the tower. 'Blue team, clear for insertion' said the Colonel looking at his very dimly lit watch. The 4 men in the two sniper teams had 55 seconds from their respective places to take up position in the two guard towers. After about a minute and a half 'Blue team to Sun, garden clear of rabbits'. As Mathieu had hoped, everyone was sleeping or at least were in doors. 'Orange team, go!' said Mathieu quietly.

5 men, beyond the Colonel's sight, quickly the cut away the lazily put up barbed wire and hopped the pathetically short fence. Splitting into two groups, the men slapped packages against the old columns of the barracks as the fifth man strung them together. Almost as fast as they were in, they were out.

Mathieu listened carefully -'Orange team clear'. Mathieu checked his watch, 4:12. 'Blue team, check for rabbits, exit garden' said Mathieu. 'Blue, Red, Green, and Brown teams. Meet at position 4, ASAP.'

The 80 men gathered amongst the treeline near the far end of the parade ground. Mathieu looked at his watch and keyed his mic again 'Fire'. The tree line exploded with flashes and sounds of 5.56mm EDF. The light machine guns fired into the small village buildings, home to support and staff of the militia. 2 inch mortar rounds fell around the interior of the compound. Mathieu watched the second hand roll around and raised his arm, firing the flare gun. The earth shook violently as a nearly unified explosion gutted the barracks. While the building was no means destroyed, it was clear that anybody in there had to be injured. Slowly, the Marquens slipped into the jungle, firing the occasional burst towards the compound.

The communists had guests.

 

[Kadikistani Union]

Pang Phet
Nho Chen Province
North Ratomkira

The day started bloody for the communist nation in Ratomkira. No less then ninety-eight communist soldier had been killed and another forty of their comrades had a variation of wounds going from light to heavy. The Marquen commando's had already moved back into the thick jungle as the survivors who could still stand on their feet realised what happened during those few seconds. Surrounded by carnage and screaming men and women several fighters randomly opened fire into the three lines in an attempt to shoot whoever attacked them and was still covering its retreat. The chaos was enormous, however if it wasn't for the fact that many of the veteran guerilla's had much experience with similar situations, it would have been worse. With all of the officers dead or wounded, it where these veterans who took charge and eventually brought some order in the chaos. By then however the enemy was long gone. For the thirty-four year-old veteran corporal Hyato Xhuonkhan, the highest ranking person that was still able to full fill its duty, and pretty much everyone with a sane mind it was clear that they where in no position to pursue or even stand their ground against the nearly invisible attackers. If anything he was happy that they where gone and left him and about a dozen more of 'his' men alive.

The gunshots and more importantly the explosions had however drawn some attention. Even though a jungle as thick as the one in Northern Ratomkira could easily become an oversized silencer, as the plants and threes tend to filter out much of the noise not to mention that Pang Phet was far away from the civilized world, the Marquen commando's where discovered by a rather unlikely foe. None less then Analu Kanani, one of the nine generals of KKP leader Hun Mochhai, escorted by two dozen Revolutionary Guards was in the area, heading for a meeting in Na Treng about fifty kilometres to the West. Upon hearing the explosion the General, who was militarily responsible for this sector, signalled the driver to head for the village. After moving his small column of twenty-four elite soldiers, Revolutionary Guards being the best the KKP had to offer, to a higher up hill in order to locate the battleground they started heading towards Pang Phet. Unlike many other Generals, Kanani wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. After all he started his career as a simple KKP footsoldier who worked his way to one of the highest ranks in the KKP and the newly established socialist country.

As they got closer and closer to the village the General and his men got a better view of what had just happened. With a highly irritated look on his face and his hands held tightly together Kanani silently started swearing the worst insults imaginable in the Lanxangese language. As he still thought it was the work of a Royal Army death squad his foul words where directed against the military government in the south. "So this is how they get things started, scum." he told his driver and good friend Radhin Sermura. After arriving in the desolated and still burning village about fifteen minutes later the communist General jumped out of his military vehicle, quickly followed by his men and yelled fiercely. "Who is in charge of this mess?" Corporal Hyato Xhuonkhan, who was helping to stop the bleeding of one of his comrade's belly, calmly replied as he continued to help "I am comrade General, we have ninety-eight dead and much more wounded. Our communication centre has been taken out along with our barracks." Looking at the corporal in a strange mixed way the General regained his cool. "I'll be taking over from here. How many men do you still have comrade." The Corporal looked at his superior and the men around him, where was the General going at? Was he seriously considering heading after the invisible force? "Comrade General, as you can see we have to much wounded. We need every man that is still able to help to take care of the wounded" The General turned around and addressed his second in command, "Contact General Sepkhei Berbaey, tell him to send me one hundred men, mechanized... I assume we are dealing with a southern military group with a maximum of a hundred men. No match for our elite Revolutionary Guards, correct?" The Corporal nodded, with some fear in his eyes. "Tell them to track us down and join us, cancel my meeting in Na Treng. If I'm correct the bastards who did this are now heading for their extraction point. We must not hesitate. Corporal, you have done all that is expected from you here. I order you to join my squad, you have seen these men in action, we can use that. The rest of your men can stay here to take care of the wounded."

There wasn't much that could be said. The General was a determined man who rarely changed his mind. Before they packed up and left the General gave one last order. "Tell Berbaey to send the 'Mihnta'."

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Jungle, Somewhere Northwest of Pang Phet,
North Ratomkira


The Colonel's hand made a loud slapping noise as it came down on the back of his neck and the buzz suddenly ceased. The heat was oppressive. The bugs even worse. It was to be expected but nobody really got used to it. The worst thing was crotch rot and foot rot. Those would set in within a few days but on the second supply drop would be new socks and pants. It was a hard place to fight a war. Even with the men enjoying the water from the cool jungle stream, the iodine just didn't exactly make the water a thirst quencher. Some men cleaned their weapons while others threw water on their face. The majority tried to get a little nap in.

The officers crouched around the map debating what target they would hit next. This was possibly the most democratic part of the entire IDF. The Colonel listened to everybody, even the junior officers. The Colonel placed most weight in the words of the warrant officers but he kept that to himself.

The key was to not necessarily to beat the communists into submission but rather to drive them insane. The Colonel stood and looked at his officers. Khok Dung it was. Military targets were way off limits for awhile. Last night's raid really must have angered some people. Khok Dung was a small village again but it was a vital stop for some military trains. The train station it was then. The Colonel folded his map and slid it into his breast pocket. "Mount Up!"

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Khok Dung, North Ratomkira

The men had humped it for 2 days with little rest. The men were tired but accepting of their position. Mathieu had split his men into two groups on the south and west sides of the village. Mathieu glanced over to a captain who was looking through night vision. The captain scanned the village from the teeline that they were hiding in. The darkness of the jungle suddenly gave away to the silvery moonlight which bathed the village. Mathieu turned from the captain and made the hand signal for a runner.

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The runner quietly approached as the captain kept watching the guard tower. The militia were fairly useless in the opinion of the Marquens, but the RPK in the guard tower did more than bark. Colonel Mathieu whispered his plans to the runner who abruptly took off. Mathieu stared at his watch. "4 men!" the Colonel whispered. Four riflemen appeared next to Mathieu who pointed to the two men in the guard tower- "Hold he whispered". Mathieu looked down at his watch. Just as the colonel was about to order his men to fire, the two men in the tower must have noticed something was up because 7.62 and 5.45 rounds began to slam through the thick brush. The team quickly returned fire neutralizing the position.

"Medic!" Mathieu heard being yelled behind him. He shook his head before he focused in on the sounds of fire coming to his left and front. It was dying out. Team 2 had secured the police shack and moved into the village. Mathieu led team one to take over the train station which was really just a one man shack and platform.

The Marquen soldiers had lost 5 men in the assault. A terrible blunder. Mathieu collected their dog tags with only numbers on them to protect Marquen neutrality. The engineers were hard at work with the last of their explosives while the others slept. In a few hours it would be light out and the supply train would pass through Khok Dung....or would try to.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Khok Dung, North Ratomkira

Mathieu stood outside the elder's hut listening to one of his interpreters. The old man was nervous and according to the elder, he wanted nothing to do with the war that was now taking place around him. Mathieu turned his head, zoning out for a moment. It was sometimes healthy to do. Some of the men were giving candies to the village children when a sharp yell of a sergeant grabbed his attention. The sergeant was grabbing two men by the collar and throwing them away from a young girl. Too everyone it was obvious what had transpired, they had been hassling the pretty girl. Sgt. Windridge was one his best men and was the immigrant son of a Breotonian color sergeant. Mathieu caught the sergeants eye and gave him a stiff nod. Mathieu's attention went back to the elder and his translator. "Tell the man he is now in the middle of the war no matter if he wishes to be or not" said Mathieu in a stoic tone.

The charges had been set and the men were now playing the wait game. Mathieu thanked his translator and the elder after explaining what was about to transpire. The elder began to protest abrubtly but Mathieu walked away knowing it would only cause more trouble to argue. His attention was again received by Windridge who motioned the Colonel over to a house.

It was more than a hut but was rather...it needed some TLC. Mathieu ducked into the dim house. It smelled musty and of chickens. Live ones. The two soldiers that found the weapons cache were staring at it. Mathieu examined the cache for a moment before turning to the sergeant. Windridge already knew the question, "This is the only one, we checked the others" said Windridge grimly. Mathieu nodded, placing his hands on his hips. "Trigger fingers" said the Colonel as he walked out the door. Their lives would be spared but their trigger fingers would not be.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Khok Dung, North Ratomkira

The engineer slammed the brake arm forward, shocked by the explosion on the tracks ahead of him. The train squealed as the thousands of tons of cargo slammed forward and the brakes fought back. The last thing the engineer saw before his head slammed into a steel bulkhead were two men in fatigues, two white men, standing on the platform a few hundred feet down the line. The engine found the end of the tracks, plunging into a small crevice created by the explosion. The rear end slightly elevated as the lead car slammed into the connection coming to an abrupt stop. 5.56 rounds began to slam into the few passenger cars on the military transport from the treeline and the fire seemed to go on forever firing before it drizzled out.

The men held there positions as Colonel Mathieu and Major Castenze walked down the line to the wreck of a train. The two men stopped at the front of of the engine and nodded to themselves. Colonel Mathieu offered a wide sweep of his arm and the Marquen soldiers poured from the treeline. The men ripped doors open on the freight cars. Ammo, weapons, mines, uniforms, shoes, combat pouches, and medical supplies. It was a quartermaster corps on tracks.

Mathieu and the Major walked to the first of the passenger cars, pulling their .45 pistols from their holsters. Mathieu pulled himself up to the sky blue car's entrance. It was an old car with a wooden door and glass, wooden planks. The glass had mostly shattered from the Marquen fire and the impact of the crash. The wood floor was covered in red and men were slumped in all kinds of positions as the two officers walked through the car. The officers locked eyes to speak silently. The men were communist regulars, the first they had seen. It was the same in the other cars.

Around 60 including a few officers had been killed. Mathieu lit a smoke once he jumped down from the final car, wiping the sweat from his brow while getting a report from another officer. "What are your orders sir" asked the Major. The silence while waiting for the answer was uncomfortable for the Major. "Sting the officers up in the trees along the tracks. Burn the wooden cars. Use the explosives from the mines on board to blow the train" said Mathieu throwing his cig butt to the ground. "And on second thought kill the men" finished the Colonel, talking over his shoulder as he walked away.

The Major was visibly confused when the venerable Sergeant Windridge approached him, quietly mentioning the village.