Girl und Panzer: The Yankee's in Tank

Chapter 44

The Last Hound Part 1

Flashback to the Dallas incident

"Squadron Report! Come in. Do you copy? Does anyone copy?" Red shouted into his radio, concealed in the tank graveyard, clad in his ghillie suit. The airwaves responded with nothing but static until a lone voice crackled to life.

"They're gone, Red... Commander Anderson is cleaning house. I'm working my way back to you," Houston reported.

"I can't believe it... Prez, and the others I trained... They're children! Why would Anderson do this?" Red expressed his disbelief.

"That's why I have trust issues, little brother. Just meet up with me; we've got to get the hell out of here. I've arranged for one of my old friends to provide us with a ride out of this area. Our fellow Vermont comrades probably have the kill order to eliminate us, while the other schools—Davy Crockett, Grand Lake, and North High—are likely gunning for us as well," Houston explained.

"Then we have to fight our way out... Big Brother," Red asserted.

"We have to get out of here.... I'll see you there..." Houston said

End of Flashback

The scene shifted to the medical tent, where the League team, led by Major McKenzie, entered. Major McKenzie's eyes widened at the sight of numerous boys in various states of distress, receiving medical attention from their school medics. Some were screaming, others crying, and some merely grunting in pain. Ben and the other medics worked tirelessly, patching up their friends who had been shot.

"Hold the pressure there!"

"We need clean water!"

"Hold still! I know it hurts; just hold still as I try to patch you up!"

Walking through the medical tent, Major McKenzie couldn't believe the extent of the injuries suffered by the boys. The Japanese schoolgirls assisting the medics expressed a mix of relief and concern. Outside the tent, rows of bodies were laid out, covered with sheets, a somber reminder of those who didn't make it.

As the survivors carried stretchers bearing the deceased, placing them in a grim row, Major McKenzie couldn't shake the haunting memory of the Dallas incident, where he witnessed the aftermath of a match that claimed 4,500 lives.

The League and its President had promised such a tragedy wouldn't happen again, but now, it had occurred once more, not by accident but through a deliberate act of revenge. Someone had used live rounds to secure victory, proving a sinister point.

The scene shifted to Houston in his tent, undergoing medical checks by Ben, his school medic. Bandages covered cuts, and Ben carefully removed a knife that had been embedded in Houston. Houston's right arm and cheek were bandaged, attempting to alleviate the burns inflicted when Anderson shot the Molotov off the air.

"You're really lucky that this knife Anderson used didn't cause serious damage to your right arm," Ben commented as he stitched up Houston's right shoulder, where the knife had pierced through.

"Yeah... Sure he is," Red quipped from within his older brother's tent, sporting an ice pack on the bruise from the hit he took against Anderson. "I'm so glad I didn't get stabbed or shot," Red added.

"Yeah, but the others aren't as fortunate, little brother," Houston grimaced as Ben continued stitching his wounds. "With this program he has... This is something different."

"Very different... I mean, this is about Tankery, a sport that you and the others are playing. When did he get this idea of controlling guns and creating a private nation for himself? Where did he get all that from?" Red inquired.