Money Knows No Bounds

Prologue

July 4th, 2021

1500 hours Pacific

San Diego, California

It was raining, but not the kind of rain that this godforsaken state needed too many times over too many years. That rain, was a godsend, a blessing, a nice reminder that living in these towns with their smoggy personas was still possible. This rain however, was a death wish, a curse, a new route to the end of your life if you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The rain had a name, artillery fire.

There were a hundred or so warships out along the coast line and they were making life hell for the soldier desperately trying to stand their ground and hold the last main city in California. Over the past week, non stop artillery barrages ruined any building that stood over 20 feet tall, killed more civilians than could be saved. Before, when the AC had attacked the other major cities on the west coast, they would only bombard the area for a day or so, before landing their troops and urban warfare decided on what part of the city belonged to who. This city however, was different, the enemy learned their mistakes, and didn't want to make unnecessary sacrifices like before.

The AC, or Asian Coalition, comprised of China, North Korea, India (now called by the men Chinese Curryland), and what was left of Mongolia after China had beaten them to a bloody pulp and rebuilt the country. They were as ruthless as the Japanese in World War Two when it came to conquering land the fastest. After war was declared last year, within a month, they had already taken the Philippines, Japan, and had begun their land invasion in Australia. Today, they decided the San Diego was tenderized enough from the bombs that they landed their army in force. No beachhead defenses existed, and American soldiers who had even survived the month were spread out around the city waiting. First Sergeant John Kanter was one of those soldiers.

John, like almost all of the men and women stationed in the city, had lost a lot of friends throughout the war. Nowadays, he barely even talks to anyone in his unit, knowing that any day they would be blown to kingdom come.

As the first and second wave of AC forces made their way past the beach and into the outskirts of the city, John rallied up as many of the soldiers he could find in the area to secure a defensive line deep inside the city. By the time gunfire had erupted and the third and fourth waves came ashore, John had gotten the order to retreat to the nearest checkpoint and prepare to leave the city. He hadn't even fired a shot yet, and the battle was already almost over.

John lingers at his poorly made defensive position while covering for the men and women near him pull away and follow the order of retreat. Comprised of a few cars and police barricades, the position wouldn't have lasted long in battle anyways, but sure enough there were enemy forces slowly marching up the road.

John lines up his target with his scope on his M-16 and fires. One down, 19 to go. The enemy scatters out as if the light turned on and they were creeping back into pockets of darkness. They begin firing wildly frightening some civilians still lurking around the streets. For what reason there were still people living here, only god knows.

John empties his magazine in his rifle before pulling back. He quickly reloads his gun and runs through alleyways and side streets trying to reach the checkpoint just up the road from where he was going to defend. He is breathing heavily, trying to maneuver quickly and sharply in 180 pounds of gear and armor to protect his life, too bad that armor isn't helpful against artillery. The barrages began back up, John assumes it is because the enemy general was expecting to march through the ruins of the city with no resistance, and when he had heard we were still here, decided that some of his troops could be spared if it meant securing the west coast finally.