Some units of measurement of time earlier...
The thundering gunfire of T64s welcomed them. Shouts in Mandarin roused the dozen or so Marines from the back of their transport, forcing them to pile out just as a shell screamed overhead and struck the maw of one of their own tanks, the Explosive-Reactive Armor brick stopping the warhead's penetrating jet from hitting any crew, ammo or important part within the tank itself.
All it took was a second shell coming her way for her to realize she wasn't going to make it out of this, though. At least she bodyblocked the HEAT round from hitting the tank behind her, would've been the excuse of the Command unit, minus a certain member. She awoke, screaming, in the midst of a forest, grabbing onto her chest and breathing heavily, eyes wide.
She swore to herself and scrambled to her feet, feeling the weight of her equipment pulling her down, keeping her with her feet firmly planted onto the floor. She did a quick check, grabbing onto every ounce of her body she could find. Legs, present and accounted for. Arms, all there, chest, whole surprisingly, head, still present and attached, funnily enough. She also had her rifle, a heavily modified QBZ-95, attached to her by the weapon strap.
Rubbing her eyes and dry-heaving now, she felt her chest for her glasses. Upon finding the rimmed visual aides, she slid them onto her face, her emerald eyes peering through the specially-made glass lenses for her to finally see she was in the midst of a forest. As she calmed down and the sweat draping her from head to toe began to cool, she took her helmet off and shook her head, pushing strands of her short black hair out from in front of her eyes.
She swallowed empty, murmuring, "Fuck me..." with her heavy Chinese accent kicking in. She wiped the sweat off her brow and looked at herself, then murmured another something to herself as she put her helmet back on and started scanning the place. Gripping her rifle with both hands, she quickly did a press-check to ensure the weapon was loaded, slammed the bolt of the bullpup home and cracked her neck, before shouldering the weapon.
She also made sure her new uniform fit right, noting that the camouflage pattern would probably blend just fine in the forest around her. After taking count of everything from ammo, to MREs, to her canteen and camelback, as well as the normal backpack... She hunched over, throwing her rifle behind her, then retched and emptied her stomach completely, feeling the burning sensation of a HEAT round somehow managing to fuse on her in her gut.
When she was done throwing up the nasty, bitter bile she had felt rise up in her throat, she doused her face and mouth with water, then whispered to herself, "Fuck this... How am I alive? I got vaporized by a HEAT Round...?" only to cap the canteen and slide it back into the pouch. She sighed and shook her head, hefting her rifle back up and thumbing the safety to off, before scanning the place. She powered on her radio and spoke in Mandarin, "This is Battlemaster 2-1 Actual to Battlemaster Actual, requesting... I don't know. I'm alive. Are you there, sister?"
Static was her reply. She tried again, "Battlemaster 2-1-Actual to any allied asset in the AO, requesting report on the status of the counterattack against the Neo-Soviet tank corps in Sector 2. Does anybody copy?" only to hear Static again. She tried a third time, "Battlemaster 2-1-Actual to Command... Please, someone, answer me over there, or else I'm gonna get angry..." and... Static.
She scoffed, pinched the bow of her nose and murmured "Tā mā de wǒ!" before hefting her pack onto her back. She pulled out her compass and decided, to hell with it, might as well start heading South, because if she was still in China, that would lead her at least to a nearby village, if not back home. She'd try calling again when she was farther away from here. Maybe the radios were being jammed by whatever leftovers of the Russian Air Force the Neo-Soviets had managed to acquire from airbases in Eastern Siberia.
She began to trek, then, weapon at the ready just in case she'd somehow been thrown the opposite direction and wound up in the middle of Russia. She was pretty screwed eitherway, but at least she was alive. Something she still wasn't sure of, really, was how. The 125mm off a T64 MBT would've pulverized her even without the HEAT round fuzing on her and thus detonating.
So why was she not chunky salsa right now? How was she conscious? There were a lot of questions floating around in that head of hers right now, but she figured she'd get some answers when and if she ran into any unit, friendly or hostile. Her mind was, however, stuck on one thing:Why the hell did they have to support the resurgent Neo-Soviet elements of Post-Collapse Russia?
They'd both made a new enemy and lost a puppet they'd invested millions, if not a few billion into turning into a defensive bulwark against the nascent Neo-Fascist movement of the Black League and the Russian Republic under NATO jurisdiction. They'd honestly managed to pull a 'US when Mujahideen' mistake, arming and supporting one of their rivals in the area instead of outright annexing them.
... She paused. Wow, she had been hanging around her sister for too long after coming back home from KFOR. It wasn't like she even liked the goddamned PRC in the first place. Hell, she knew her sister didn't, either, but they couldn't exactly espouse those kinds of views while out and about, especially since they were soldiers like their mom before them.
Ugh, she needed to find somewhere to relax. Her heart still raced as she wandered the place, mind stuck on just what the hell had happened to her. She knew she got mulched, but she also realized they were at war with a state that the PRC supported and funded at first. Fuck that, she thought as she walked forward, rifle at the ready, better not be caught slipping by the bastards. She knew what Ruskies and especially unwashed Commie bastards like the Neo-Soviets did to women.
Pushing through the thicket, she swept the area ahead with her rifle, shouldering the weapon properly now and activating the holographic sight she'd mounted to the top. She also checked her sidearm, drawing it and racking the slide back to feed a round into the chamber. She was regaining her composure, thank the Maker, but she pushed on through, gun up.
She silently thanked PLA High Command for the modernization programs. She couldn't really imagine wading out into battle in heavily forested and green areas like Manchuria and Siberia in bright blue camouflage uniforms meant for the high seas, so the new camouflage pattern was good. She was just a bit miffed she didn't get that fancy new non-bullpup rifle, though. It looked cool.
Advancing through the bushes, pushing aside low-hanging branches and upright shrubs, the girl managed to make it onto what seemed to be a travelled dirt path. The canopy overhead, that which had covered her so far, cleared to reveal the mountain range. She was in a valley, snow-capped mountains surrounding her completely, meaning that she was in the middle of nowhere, pretty much.
There were no real mountains in Siberia, she recalled. Unless she'd gotten flung all the way to the Urals, which was doubtful.
She paused as she heard a branch break, dropped to her knees and swiveled about, aiming the rifle. She quickly stood back up and backed herself into the best cover she could find, dropping onto her stomach in a ditch on the side of the road. She zeroed in on the threat as leaves began to rustle, only to pause when she saw a mountain lion cub step out from the thicket. A cute little furball with grey fur. It craned its neck, looking at the young Lieutenant and wondering what she was doing here, probably.
... Only to be followed by its mother. Lee momentarily paused as she saw the massive cat staring her down now. She stared her right down, watching for if the animal made any move. A couple more Cubs emerged from the thicket and the Mountain Lion mamma let out a low growl. The Chinese soldier, however, held her ground, remembering survival training.
The large cat almost seemed to be glaring at her, but it was probably just the instinctual desire to defend her cubs. The girl maintained eye contact, licking her lips as she felt them dry out, her heart thumping against her armored vest. The mountain lion, however, did a surprising thing next:She growled again in warning to the girl, then turned and walked back into the brush with her cubs.
The girl waited until she was sure they'd gone far enough away, scanned her surroundings to make sure the mother wasn't flanking her for the kill, then lowered her rifle, breathing a deep sigh of relief. She took her glasses off and rubbed her face, then turned about, only to yelp as someone grabbed her by the mouth and scruff of her neck and pinned her against a tree. She panicked, drawing her knife from her hip, only to feel her hand get pinned...
"... Lieutenant Lee? The fuck?" She heard a familiar, if gruff voice speak to her, her eyes shooting wide open. When she felt the weight of the soldier's hands and gear shift away from her, she swiveled about and nearly put the blade of her knife through the side of his neck, stopping an inch away from the carotid. She slid her glasses back onto her face and saw woodland MARPAT greet her, alongside a face covered up black and green paint, pearly white teeth grinning at her.
As panic faded, it was replaced by a smile, joy feeling her heart as she stowed her knife into its sheath. She whispered, "I'll be damned... Dushman. I see you got those Corporal pins after all..." only to pause as she saw several more figures rise out from among the shrubs, all clad in MARPAT and all carrying the Marine version of the HK-417 rifles, IAR-27 Individual Assault Rifles.
"Good to see you, too, Sam," He quipped as he stowed his rifle and crossed his arms, "Shit, I didn't think we'd see anyone else alive this quick. Not in this shithole..." then he looked back at the dozen or so Marines present, staring more pointedly at a man in the rear, and stating, "It's alright, sir. She's just the ChiCom I and my buddies had as El-Tee in KFOR."
The man took a puff from his cigarette, then nodded, "Lieutenant Lee. Been a few years..." and walked up to her, extending his hand. Sam nodded and shook.
"Sergeant Colbert..." She nodded, then shook his hand, "You got any more of those...? I have a nagging feeling I'm gonna need them as we go," only for the man to offer her one. She'd never smoked before, but there was a time for everything, she thought, taking the cigarette and sliding it between her lips. When it was lit by another Marine, she took a deep drag, started coughing hoarsely, then said, "N-Nevermind... How the hell did you guys even get here?"
"RPG-23 through the side of our truck. Fucked us up something fierce," Dushman replied, hefting his rifle while Sammy winced... He continued, "All of us thought we were dead when the fuel cans blew..." then paused as the boys murmured. He looked at her and asked, "You?" as he pulled out an energy bar and bit into it. Lieutenant Samantha 'Sammy' Lee, the PLA Navy Marine Corps's Battlemaster 2-1-Actual, sighed deeply.
"HEAT shell from a T64 rammed into me. I bodyblocked it from destroying one of our ZTZs, I think..." She replied, scratching her chest. The Marines all winced at that, clearly imagining it. She chuckled darkly and said, "Was turned into mighty fine ground beef... Fuck me, at least it didn't hurt..." before scratching her chin, "Should we get moving? If we're anywhere familiar, going South on the road ahead 'till we run into some sort of friendly OP or something else to shoot at will be nice."
"Lead the way, El-Tee," The Sergeant replied, then called out, "Rally up, Marines. Eyes peeled for enemy ambushes."
"Should we be letting a Lieutenant do LandNav, boss?" Joked a female Marine from Dushman's team, garnering a few laughs, including from Sammy. Sam nodded to the dark-skinned woman, though, then pulled out her standard-issue compass and showed them to follow anyhow. Better they got lost by a ChiCom Lieutenant than by one of their own, she thought with a smirk.
As they walked forward, Sammy carrying the compass in one hand and holding her rifle close with the other, Dushman approached her, taking point beside her. He asked, "... You got word from anyone else, Sam?" only to get a shake of the head. He swore, "Fuck... Must've just dropped in a few minutes ago like the rest of us, huh?" as he raised his rifle and swept the area to their left in a scan.
She admitted with a low depressed tone, "I know what happened to Paul and Victor..." which got the Marines to pause. Of course, she'd know what those two had gone through. Dushman knew, too, obviously, since he'd asked their COs to keep him updated with reports of their friends. Thought that maybe they'd meet and, honestly, it was probably better they hadn't.
"... Yeah..." So the Marine hesitated, knowing well enough that bringing the 'Dead' like Vesna up at this point was not a good idea. He sighed and said instead, "Didn't think Paul would go FFL," before grinning at Sam, "Mans doesn't have the face for a Frog," all while they walked. She saw the men were tense, obviously. Walking in two separate, straight lines beside a road that looked used. Standard patrol pattern.
"Heh. Sure doesn't..." She decided to humor him, keep her mind off the shitter, too. They were dead, but they needed to keep their heads in the game if they didn't want to be dead dead. She asked him, "How've you been, Quentin? Prepping to tango with us in the Pacific, right?" while the Sergeant behind them took another drag from his own cigarette and the one Sam had handed back to him. Man was going for the double lung cancer.
"Yeah. Believe it or not, I felt more relief at the fact I'm gonna be the one to punch you in the face..." Dushman joked, garnering a few laughs out of his buddies. The female Marine gave him a pat on the back with that, then looked to their left as she spotted some sort of silhouette moving parallel to their unit. She hummed and got a bit more tense, as did everyone else...
Sam replied, "Har-di-Harr," With a snort. She was tense, too, keeping her rifle at the ready and stowing the compass. She quipped, "Robert would've probably done me in gladly, too, if he was ever put on the job," as she recalled their Military Policeman friend that was assigned to both record information on them and keep them safe. Him and his uh... Arguably less-restrained 'friend', their CIA attache simply called 'X'.
"Heh," Dushman snorted as he and the rest of his Marines pushed forward, "Nah, you made his job easier by being an actual officer... Though I heard he was in Krakow when..." before sighing deeply. Krakow had been a fairly sore spot for all of NATO. It'd happened just after an entire unit of French Foreign Legionnaires, so Paul's unit, were lost in Omsk.
"Fuck," Sam murmured, "And I guess hoping Katja wasn't stuck in Krakow isn't gonna cut it..." as she rubbed her right shoulder, which ached a little. She'd taken a bullet in it during the early border skirmishes with the NUSSR's soldiery, when relations were breaking down between the Sinos and Soviets for a second time. History doesn't repeat itself, but it often does rhyme, she thought.
"Yeah..." Dushman sighed deeply at that.
Sam thought for a moment, then asked, "If I'm still in full possession of my mental faculties... You were a volunteer in Ukraine, too. Did you meet her?" As they walked. In truth, she recalled that only through the scraps of information she managed to receive from the West through her contacts in Intelligence, plus what little she could gather whenever their chats weren't being jammed by Command.
"Nope. Different fronts. I was near Zaporizhizha, she was in Bakhmut," Dushman replied with a shrug, then hummed as another shadow appeared to his left. He blinked, sighed and told Sam, "She managed to get rotated out, though. Just as the war ended..." only to pause on it. Yeah, that meant she had been back to her home city of Krakow when it happened.
"Fuck..." Sam sighed. Best not to think about it, some would say. Others would tell her it was best to mourn, but the realization that, if they, those who died, were showing up here, it meant that others might be as well, funnily enough. It seemed both she and Dushman had realized this, however. They looked to one-another with a momentary smile, before pausing as they reached a narrowing path between the mountains and... A wall. They immediately scrambled into cover among the shrubs.
A defensive wall, several meters tall and with an armored gate and automated turrets. Automated turrets that didn't shred them, meaning that they either didn't have thermal, or that they weren't aimed for them. She sighed, then decided to make the test, showing the Marines to wait. Standing up and walking onto the path, she watched the turrets on top of the wall lock onto her for a second. Both were armed with what looked to be twin high-caliber machine guns and the gate itself was reinforced with steel and had an electronic lock.
She approached it and noticed a Camera staring at her, then hummed and waved, "Hello!?" as she held her rifle close. On second thought, that might not have been that great a first impression. She sighed and motioned to the American Marines to follow her in, just to show that they weren't hostiles. Sergeant Colbert and his men formed a perimeter around her, keeping their guns pointed outward, while Sam called out, "We're friendly! We wanna pass through here, try to get somewhere safer-"
A deep, long howl filled her ears, a chill shooting up her spine.
She gasped as she watched the turrets switch to and track the incoming targets. Lifting her own rifle, she joined the formation ahead as shadows first danced in the corners of her eyes. Colbert called out, "Marines, prep to engage!" only for a dozen safeties to audibly flick off. Sam flicked her own safety down to off, aiming down the holographic sight, before Colbert told her, "Looks like we're up shit creek without a paddle, Lieutenant. You good?"
"Good as can be, Sarge... Funny that I'm fighting alongside US Marines now, though, heh..." She chuckled, then watched in the distance. The shadows amidst the trees soon began to resolve, stalking creatures whose eyes glowed burning red in the shadows of the forest. The Sergeant scoffed and said, "Easy, boys and girls, easy... Don't squeeze one off prematurely. That means you, Presley."
"Fuck you, too, sir..." The Marine replied, garnering a few strained laughs out of everyone. However, those laughs stopped when they saw what came out of the woodwork.
Manes black as night, bodies distorted forms of old animals and plates and protrusions of bone attached to their heads and bodies. The gangly creatures stepped forward, baring their pure white teeth at the platoon of Marines. Tall, lanky wolves with longer front legs that had turned into arms, making them resemble werewolves, shorter, smaller lizard-like creatures with two legs and a couple of gigantic, porcupine-like bears.
The tallest of the wolves perked up... Roared... Then charged. The Sergeant barked something, as did Sam, before the automatic weapons fire filled their ears. The Marines, all of them, fired on the beasts as a horde of them, mixed together, emerged from the darkness. The turrets on the walls opened up as well, high-caliber munitions punching through the beasts' thick hides.
Armor piercing rounds cut down the small critters and the wolves, while the heavy turrets seemed to be focusing their fire on the bears. Still, the creatures didn't slow down. Sam snap-shot a round into one's eye, sending it tumbling forward, then switched back to full auto and opened up, spent casing clinking, piling to her side as she fired. Beside her, the Sergeant aimed and fired bursts.
The beasts poured out from among the treeline, meeting the automatic fire of the Marines, both US and Chinese, head-first, with little regard for their own safety or the enemy's wall of guns. Some surged forward behind the smaller ones, letting them take the brunt of the bullets, but most of the tiny critters and younger-looking wolves were being gunned down.
Admittedly, the wolves took a few bursts to take down in comparison to the small ones. Sammy found herself aiming for the head, however, and found that her bullets could pierce the thick bone plate that protected whatever stood for the demonic, red-eyed creature's brain. It slumped over, falling on top of a pile of its comrades, many of which were dissolving into ash.
"Reloading!" Sammy called out, dropping the spent magazine into her dump pouch, slamming home a fresh one and sending the bolt home before aiming for a monster that was charging straight for her. She said, "God damn, these things are ugly! Makes me think of that time Jim showed me Warhammer art he found online!" which got a laugh outta Dushman. She smiled a little, then said, "I wonder where he and Hass are," as her mind told her she missed the two Rangers as well.
"Jim's probably still in Russia!" Dushman shot back, kicking down a small creature and ramming his KA-BAR Knife into its throat, before reloading his rifle. He told her, "I know Hass got called back before we went into it to test some new stuff! The XM7 and the IVAS systems they want the entire military to adopt! Don't know if he got back to Jim and their unit, though!"
"Even when we catch up with you fuckers, the US just sees fit to put Halo gear on their troops!" Sammy joked as she fired her rifle. She yelped, however, when a creature managed to push through and jumped her, pinning her down and trying to bite her head clean off, its jaws slamming together, rows of sharp teeth nearly tearing her face off. She grit her teeth, pushing it back and trying to grab her pistol, execute it, escape...
She didn't need to. A 6,8mm round punched clean through the armor plate, sending it tumbling back. She heard a familiar voice call out, "Hass, move it forward, pendejo! We got allied troops!" with the straight accent of an American until the Spanish word came into play. She watched two Rangers clad in UCP step forward, firing XM7 rifles, 6,8mm as a Militia followed them close behind.
"Moving up! Covering fire!" A second, slightly-accented voice replied, firing his own rifle. This one wore a strange set of darkened goggles on his face, ones with dozens of cameras and sensor suites attached. His XM7, much like the first Ranger's, bore that strangely familiar scope, that being their highly-advanced NGSW-standard scopes with rangefinders and everything.
Dushman laughed and said, "Speak of the fucking devils! Good to see you both!" as he patted Hassan Avery, the team's resident weapons nut and Malaysian-American, on the shoulder. Beside him, the slightly darker-skinned Jim 'Jungle Jim' Asher, smiled, then turned back. He saw Sam laying on the floor, turned to her and offered her his hand. She gave him a bright smile, took his hand and grabbed her rifle, too.
"Good to see you guys, indeed..." She whispered. More and more, she thought that Vic and the others were also probably here. Jim tapped Hass and the Militia's leaders on the shoulder, then showed them they should fall back, to which they nodded. Hass then showed the Marines to follow along. Executing a bounding retreat, the Marines, Rangers and Militiamen held back the hordes as they made it behind the walls of the settlement. The doors shut quickly behind them, relieving the fighting men and women.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief, hunched over, then said, "Fuck... We really ain't in Qingdao anymore, are we...?" as she looked up at the men whom she thought long dead. Jim smiled at her, his cheeks slightly rosy, while Hassan gave a more subdued, but also genuine smile, lowering his rifle. It wasn't long before Dushman wrapped both in a tight hug, though, laughing happily as he greeted their friends.
Sammy, meanwhile, turned back to see the village, noting a few things... Including what looked to be an old MRAP, rusted out. Almost looked like a Russian TIGR...
"... Oh, boy..." She murmured.