This is a teaser for a sequel to my story Battle In Athens, that I have begun writing. Tell me what I am doing both right and wrong so that I know what to fix. Scott is still in this story, but he is now a Corporal, and leading a small squad of Marines through war torn Mogadishu.
"Let's go!" Scott moved forwards the stock of the M16 pressed against his cheek, advancing forwards slowly, scooting forwards on crouched legs. He took a deep breath and tapped the wall ahead of him with the barrel of his rifle. A young Marine rushed forwards and pressed a block of C4 the size of a cigarette pack to the wall and attached a blasting cap to it.
"Pull out of this area, the wall is about the blow up." Said Scott and he joined the trickle of other Marines retreating from the blasting zone. The last fur away was the Marine who had set up the C4, he was spooling a fuse away from the C4, and as Scott watched he attached it to the detonator then looked up at Scott, awaiting command to blow it up.
Scott nodded and the fur pressed a button on the detonator, there was a single concussive BOOM, and then Scott was moving forwards. He saw the wall, a large section of it had been collapsed and he scrambled over the rubble his M16 ahead of him, ready to fire at the slightest threat.
Three other Marines fanned out around him, and Scott looked at his surroundings, he was at the edge of a courtyard, two tall buildings in front of him, with a low concrete wall running between him and the buildings.
"Forwards, double time." Scott instructed the rest of the Marines, and they moved forwards, on the alert, looking for the slightest danger. Scott heaved himself over the low wall and looked at the building, it was seven stories high and painted a dull off white that wouldn't reflect the sun. Surprisingly it was untouched, no bullet holes or char marks from fires.
"Three of you set up behind that wall, watch the building, the rest of you guys, move with me." Three Marines quickly set up a M60 machine gun and as Scott watched snapped a belt into the receiver. They were ready, and feeling good about having such a heavy-duty weapon watching his back Scott made a forwards motion and moved forwards towards the building.
He was surprised that there had been no resistance; Mogadishu was infamous for its hordes of militia that converged on any opposing military forces within hours. Scott paused and looked out over the city, there was thick black smoke in the distance, from the direction of the Black Sea Area, one of the more dangerous areas in the city for Americans. The Somalians were undoubtedly burning tires, only they could throw off smoke that dense and oily.
Burning tires served two purposes, calling for reinforcements, and obscuring the view of the enemy. They worked well for both purposes, but many of the NATO forces in the city had thermal scopes much like the ones that Scott had used in Athens and they were able to see through the smoke with ease.
Shaking his head Scott turned his attention back to the building; it was still silent, no enemies moving around inside, and no fire and grenades pouring out of the windows. But despite that Scott still felt anxious, the lack of resistance made him uneasy, something was going to happen, but he didn't know what.
"The door handle is locked with a chain Corporal." A tiger said to Scott, who took out the pair of bolt cutters he kept with him for such purposes and handed them to the tiger.
"Where are they?" Asked someone else, but Scott ignored him, he didn't know and any input that he had wasn't valuable. The clink of the bolt cutters snapping the chain brought him back to reality, and Scott cursed himself for being so easily distracted. He needed to stop thinking so much, sometimes the best way to deal in a combat zone was to just run off of autopilot.
"Corporal, I think I see some militia a few blocks down, they're coming up the street." Called one of the three Marines that Scott had left at the wall, and Scott turned around, he had been about to kick in the door, but the militia sighting had piqued his interest, so he walked briskly over to the wall and looked up the street where a few armed furs were strutting down the street, obviously proud of themselves. Scott looked at them carefully through his scope and nodded.
"Those are indeed militia, they haven't seen us yet, but leave them alone unless they see you, if they call in reinforcements then we are going to be swamped in militia furs." The Marine nodded and looked up at the militia furs who had stopped and were lighting cigarettes, completely oblivious to the group of Marines just two hundred yards away.
But as Scott turned around there was suddenly an earthshaking BOOM, and Scott fell back against the wall, chunks of concrete bouncing off of the ground all around him. An errant mortar shell had struck the top floor of the building and blown out two of the walls, showering the Marines in concrete and dust. One Marine cried out as a large chunk bounced off of his shoulder, but aside from bruising he was unharmed. Scott stood up, and looked up the street to where the militia furs were staring directly at him.
"Fire!" Scott yelled, then hurled himself to the ground as AK47 rounds buzzed over him. The M60 opened up, and Scott heard a distant yell, then the fire ceased and Scott looked up to see the street now deserted, aside from one dead militia fur who had been struck several times in the chest.
"We need to move, they'll be calling in reinforcements." The Marines behind the wall nodded and picked up their machine gun as the remainder of the Marines dusted themselves off.
"Move! We need to head over to the Black Sea Area and link up with the rest of our forces before those bastards call in reinforcements." The Marines nodded and followed Scott back over the wall and across the courtyard.
Scott again clambered over the rubble of the destroyed wall, but as he crossed over he caught a blur of movement in the corner of his eye and whipped his M16 around to see an equally surprised militia fur trying to raise his AK47. Scott fired and the militia fur jerked and writhed as nearly a dozen steel core 5.56 rounds tore into his stomach. He dropped his gun and fell to the ground, blood forming a rapidly growing pool around him. Scott stepped back, feeling sick, he didn't like killing, especially at close range. But he didn't have time to think about that now, where there was one militia fur there were always others. And sure enough a different fur rushed into Scott's sights only to be cut down with a three round burst that nearly decapitated him. Other Marines fanned out around Scott and one tossed a grenade down the road where it exploded with a flash and a loud POP.
"Move forwards, we need to clear these fuckers out of our way!" Yelled Scott as the rest of the squad moved through the rubble of the destroyed wall. More AK47 fire rang out, but it wasn't directed at Scott's squad, but rather at a platoon of African Union soldiers who were clearing the remainder of the militia group that had attacked Scott's squad just moments earlier.
"USMC, coming around the corner, don't shoot!" Called Scott and to his surprise a paw appeared around the wall and gave him a thumbs up. Breathing a sigh of relief Scott moved around the corner and found himself face-to-face with a smiling jackal with the emblem of the African Union pinned onto the breast of a plain camouflage uniform. Scott shook paws happily and pointed over to the Black Sea Area.
"Did you come from over there?" He asked, the jackal nodded and pointed behind him. Scott looked at to his surprise saw a NATO Humvee moving up the street, more African Union soldiers flanking it. A lion looked down from the .50, looking distinctly nervous.
"We're advancing through here, you come with us." The jackal said in accented English and Scott nodded, feeling better now that he had a full platoon supporting him.
Scott turned to his squad and smiled, they had linked up with their own forces, African Union to be specific. Scott had heard good things about the African Union soldiers and was excited to finally have a chance to fight with them.
"We just linked up with the African Union, so we're going to advance along the road instead of through that courtyard, move!" The squad nodded and moved forwards, M16s at the ready.
As Scott moved away from the destroyed wall there was suddenly a whistling, and Scott felt his blood turn to ice.
"Incoming!" He screamed and hurled himself to the ground just as the first mortar shell exploded in the middle of the road fifty yards up from the platoon of African Union soldiers, who had all taken cover at the side of the road. A second mortar hit a power pole and exploded shredding the top half of the pole and sprinkling the Humvee with shrapnel. Then Scott heard a distant CRUMP, and flattened his ears. Rockets.
"Rockets stay down!" He yelled again as the shrieking started up again. Fortunately for Scott the rockets had been sitting in storage for years and as a result were terribly inaccurate. The first rocket exploded with a teeth rattling crack a full block away from the African Union and Marine soldiers huddling near the road. Seeing this, the militia furs adjusted aim, but little did they know they had attracted the wrath of an Apache helicopter. The buzzing of the side mounted chain guns was the last thing that the five militia furs manning the rocket launching tube ever heard.
Scott had seen the Apache fly overhead and smiled when he heard the chain guns buzz briefly before falling silent. Getting up, he poked his head around the corner and saw the African Union soldiers dusting themselves off; nobody had been killed or wounded although the Humvee had taken a beating from flying shrapnel.
"We go capture rockets now that your bird has killed them." Said the jackal and Scott nodded, before heading up the street at a jog. The battle seemed to have heated up all over the city, and now faint gunfire and explosions could be heard from all directions. A second Apache flew overhead, and the fur manning the chain gun waved at Scott before his bird flew off in a different direction to go strafe another target.
"Heavy fighting." Said the jackal, but Scott shrugged, Athens had been much worse.
"Athens was worse." He said, and the jackal nodded, he had heard of the battle but had never met someone who had taken part. But before he could say something, a group of militia furs ran across the street up ahead and he dropped to one knee and opened fire, dropping several of the running militia furs. The remainder took cover at the sides of the street and fired back. Scott rolled out of the street and took cover behind a series of concrete steps that led to a broken door. Behind him the lion manning the .50 opened fire and Scott saw giant clouds of dust thrown up as bullets tore into the streets and houses down the street from them. An RPG round spiraled towards Scott and for a sickening moment he thought it was going to hit near him, but it caught an iron railing and instead of exploding the Humvee as intended, it blew up the front of a house.
Seeing this, the surviving militia furs tried to retreat, but the .50 swept over them and Scott watched as every single one of them was mowed down. No survivors.
"Move up!" Scott cried, and ran forwards, marveling at the size of Mogadishu, it was bigger than Athens and much more tightly packed, with some of the building leaning over the street as if to form an artificial canopy.
But now many of those buildings were burning, and more smoke was rising from the city. Briefly Scott wondered how many furs were dead, it had be a lot considering the amount of smoke rising from gutted buildings. More intense fire was coming from the Black Sea Area and Scott guessed that the bulk of the African Union forces were going toe to toe with the militia furs there.
As he watched a fighter jet swooped low over the Area and suddenly a large building crumbled, its foundations shattered by a TOW2A missile.
"They're retreating Corporal, look at them, I think they know that the fight is over." Scott looked over, one of his soldiers, a fox was pointing ahead to where a group of militia furs had tossed down their weapons and were sprinting up the street, away from the advancing soldiers.
The jackal smiled as he loaded a new clip into his AK47.
"Always good sign." He said and Scott smiled as well, if the militia was giving up, then the fight was probably in the home stretch, only a few more hours to go.
"Corporal? What'll we do after this is over?" Scott thought back to the brief info talk that Colonel Dichasia had given them before heading into the city. They would help secure the city, but the African Union soldiers would be in charge of holding the city and returning the place to order.
"We return to base, these fine fellows we're with are in charge of dealing with Mogadishu." The fox nodded, and Scott looked up the street, no further resistance had presented itself, but as he looked he suddenly saw the tips of a pair of rocket tubes poking over the edge of the roof of a house less than a hundred yards away.
"There are those rockets." Scott said and was beginning to head forwards when suddenly a technical roared out from the next intersection and halted with a screech of badly maintained brakes.
"Kill it!" Scott yelled and again rolled out of the line of fire as the .30 machine gun mounted on the back of the technical opened fire. The Humvee's .50 started to fire but suddenly the heat shield sparked and the lion slumped, riddled with bullets. The Humvee, their most powerful weapon, was silenced.
Leaning out into the open, Scott hurled a grenade, but it did little more than rock the technical on its chassis. Seeing Scott the machine gunner swiveled the machine gun and Scott barely had time to duck before bullets tore up the house he was hiding behind. Running behind the house, he found a sizeable hole in the house and aimed at the technical. Gritting his teeth he pulled the trigger, and killed once more.
Seeing his gunner dead, the driver of the technical tried to pull away but an African Union soldier ran up to the aging technical and fired a burst through the windshield, blowing off the top of the driver's head. Walking out from behind the building, Scott looked over the platoon of African Union soldiers and saw that two of them had been injured by the machine gun, one severely. The jackal swore viciously in Swahili and walked stiffly up the building, his fur bristling with anger.
"Come on," said Scott, rallying his squad, "lets destroy those rocket tubes." The squad nodded and they moved forwards, into the building.
There were six dead militia furs in the kitchen of the building; they had been killed by chain gun rounds that had gone through the ceiling and into the kitchen, tearing them open. Rounds were scattered all over the floor along with a significant number of RPG rounds. The furs had been packing ammunition into baskets when they had been hit. A few of the newer Marines looked at the dead furs in horror, but Scott just stepped over them and headed up onto the roof, where the rocket tubes were.
As he watched the jackal put a round through each of the trigger mechanisms and then dumped them off of the roof, grunting with the effort. The tubes crumpled as they hit the ground fifteen feet below and he jackal smiled at his handiwork.
"Nobody using those now." He said, and Scott nodded, happy that the rockets were out of the way.
As he stood on the roof he looked over at the Black Sea Area where yet more black smoke was rising up from the shattered buildings and piles of burning tires. Then suddenly the ground rumbled and Scott saw a ball of flame rise into the air, NATO jets had just blown up a large ammunition dump, detonating nearly one hundred tons of abandoned or broken ammunition and weaponry. The soldiers watched it for a moment, spellbound by the sheer size of the explosion.
"Fuck." Said Scott in awe, then tore his eyes away and looked at the remainder of the city. There were still bursts of automatic weapons fire and the occasional explosion from nearly everywhere else in the city, but the Black Sea Area seemed to be the main battlefield.
"Hey, Corporal! We found a radio down here, maybe we can tap into Somalian frequencies!" Came a voice from inside the house. Scott descended back into the house and quickly found a circle of Marines tinkering with a large transistor radio of the type not seen since the Vietnam War.
"We got BBC a minute ago, so we know it works..." Said one of the Marines as he carefully adjusted a knob on the bulky radio. There was a burst of static, then suddenly a burst of machine gun fire. Then a voice shouting in face paced Arabic. One of the African Union soldiers suddenly straightened up and started speaking Swahili and pointing at the radio.
"What's he saying?" Asked Scott, and one of the Marines stood up and shouted over the platoon of African Union soldiers, "hey! Does anyone speak English?" After a few seconds one old soldier stood up and walked over to the house, where he quickly translated for the radio.
"They're bringing up their reserves along National Avenue, if we can alert your aircraft then they can stop them." Scott nodded; this was great news, a chance to inflict heavy damage on the militia furs.
"Find NATO, and turn it to broadcast." Instructed Scott, and the Marine holding the radio began once again to turn knobs.
"Who is this?" Asked a static ridden voice, and the Marine sighed in relief, happy to have found NATO's frequency.
"USMC, we just intercepted a Somalian broadcast, they're moving up their reserves along National Avenue, call air power to take care of them." The voice was silent for a few seconds, but then he laughed.
"That is some of the best news I've heard all day, I'll get a few birds on them." The Marine switched the broadcast off and handed the radio to another Marine who flipped the knobs at random. For a few seconds there was silence then suddenly AC/DC began playing.
Because you just got...THUNDERSTRUCK! Brian Johnson sang, and Scott smirked. What an appropriate song. Seconds later the sound of the chain guns began and Scott's smile widened as he leaned against a wall and waited for the battle to be over.