Difference between revisions of "Atlantis Rising: Chapter 1"

Revision as of 23:47, 21 July 2010

The first chapter in my book, Atlantis Rising. To visit the homepage: Atlantis

Also see: Reaper's First Drop

14:32 Hours, October 9, 2018 (Military Calendar), New York City, New York, USA‎

"Sierra two-five, we're taking heavy fire! Pinned down in a courtyard! Where the hell are you!"

An explosion rocked the V-22 Osprey as it swept past the buildings, flying below the roof-tops, so close to the skyscrapers that Captain Matt Kenderson felt as if he could reach out and brush his hand against one.

"Roger, ground teams, this is Sierra," Came the response from the cockpit, given in the mandatory pilot's-dead-pan voice, devoid of stress or panic. "We are taking moderate AA fire but are en route to your location. Sit tight."

In the troop bay, Matt slapped a clip filled with 30 rounds of kill into his M8 carbine and clipped it to the elastic cable, letting it dangle from his shoulder. "Echo team, lock it tight! Dirt in thirty, LZ is hot - get ready for a fast drop!" Matt shouted over the noise of the scattered gunfire and explosions.

"Roger, Echo, you're up. Give 'em a piece of the 3rd." The pilot said, and brought the Vertical-Take-Off-and-Landing (VTOL) aircraft whipping around the corner of one building, revealing a frantic firefight. The American squads were entrenched in the center of a large courtyard, taking fire from all sides.

"Sierra, they have a tank! Repeat, T-100 MBT (Main Battle Tank) coming straight at you!"

Matt gasped as the bay doors sprang open, exposing him to the high winds. Sure enough, from one corner of the courtyard spat a 120mm High-explosive tank shell.

The shell flew past the Osprey's windshield, and the slipstream buffeted the craft. "Sierra, wave off!" Matt ordered.

"Aye, Captain."

The American forces were heavily outnumbered, and the Russians were pressing. They wouldn't survive unless someone bailed them out. But the Osprey couldn't set down under the threat of a tank. That last shot had been too close.

So Matt took the only option available - he leaped from the craft, still fifty feet in the air. Grasping the rappel line with one hand, Matt free-fell most of the way to the ground before he tightened his grip. Beneath his thermal-insulated armored gauntlets, Matt's hand grew warm from friction as he slowed himself partway, then let go and landed on the concrete, cracking it.

Matt winced as pain shot up his legs but made himself roll over, get up, and run for cover.

Bullets whizzed and pinged off hard surfaces. Matt felt two rounds shatter against his ceramic-titanium full-body combat armor but didn't slow. Working up into a long, loping sprint, Matt flew past stray Russian infantry, taking potshots from the hip as he sped by at 20 miles an hour, powered by nothing more than his own two feet.

Matt Kenderson was not part of an ordinary squad. He, like all of the 3rd Marine Shock Forces, had been biologically enhanced upon induction and outfitted with the latest equipment and weaponry. The Marine Shock Forces were the elite of the American Military.

A Russian soldier stepped into Matt's path, rifle raised. To Matt's heightened and enhanced reflexes, it seemed as though the man moved too slowly - far too slowly for someone in a combat situation. It was easy for Matt to cross the remaining distance, and, in the span of four seconds, disarm, injure, and then kill the single soldier. The guy never had a chance - even as his finger tightened on the trigger, Matt appeared beside him, knocked the rifle to the side, threw a left-handed punch that broke every rib on the Russian's right side, break the man's knee with a well-placed kick, break the collarbone with an overhead chop from an armored fist, and then drive a fist under the Russian's chin hard enough to cave the trachea.

Gargling sickly, the man fell aside.

I didn't even have to use the blades. Matt thought as he sprinted the final few yards and dove behind the concrete barrier of a dry fountain, where the rest of the Americans had taken shelter. His armor had integrated bayonet-sized blades that could slide out of the gauntlets, perfect for chopping and stabbing. The ideal close-quarters melee weapon, attached to his forearm.

"Who's in charge here?" Matt asked, panting.

"I am!" A soldier yelled. Matt's HUD quickly identified the man as a Staff Sergeant named John York. "Where's our backup?"

"I'm it, Sergeant." Matt replied, ignoring the sidelong looks this won him. "And I'm going to get all of your men to safety."

His line was punctuated by a tank shell blowing a divot out of the concrete five yards away from their cover.

"That tank's aim is getting better." York spat. "Orders, sir?"

"Hole up here, keep it frosty, give me suppressive fire. I'm going to flank around and take out that tank, then call back the gunships to clear it up and get you guys out."

"Take out the tank? How?!"

Matt triggered another button on his gauntlet, and his shoulder plate ground further down his back on an internal gear, allowing a three-holed box to rise. "Anti-armor integrated weapons. I'll flank, target the tank, and take it out. I just need you to keep their attention here."

Another shell blew concrete shards into the cover. "Alright, sir. Get it done fast, and there might even be some of us left alive."

Matt ignored the Sergeant's sarcasm, instead vaulting over the fountain wall and sprinting for the edge of the courtyard.

His armor system was nothing short of genius. Matt had helped design it himself - came up with the original idea, in fact. It incorporated the military's standard Future Force Warrior program into a more protective armored suit reminiscent of both Halo and medieval Knights. The suit encased him head-to-toe in layers of bulletproof shell, power and computer circuitry, and life-support.

The outer layer, his shell, was comprised of bulletproof ceramic plates with thinner titanium plates inside, for strength. Sandwiched between the ceramic was the real genius behind the system - SmartGel bladders that held a special reactive kinetic-absorbing gel. Simply put, a bullet hit the ceramic shell, the kinetic energy that would usually shatter the plate was instead transferred to the gel, which absorbed the kinetic energy and converted it into thermal energy. The more hits you took, the hotter the gel became, until it rose to boiling, at which point the armor auto-dumped a third of the gel from the bladders in order to prevent the occupant from being cooked alive.

The middle layer housed the sophisticated electronics and power subsystems that allowed his Heads-Up Display (HUD), Global Unit Status Subsystem (GUSS), and a myriad of other tools to function. The GUSS was another of his inventions, borrowed from Tom Clancy - it was basically a modified version of Ghost Recon's CrossCom. The GUSS marked targets on his visor plate in red diamonds, friendly units in blue, and listed available support on the left side of his faceplate, in addition to linking up with his weapon to display a cross-hairs and ammo indicator on the right side of his display. Kind of like playing a video game.

And finally, the life support layer was basically a black polymer inner suit with narrow tubing running throughout. The tubing, powered by the armor, could provide one hundred watts of heating or cooling directly to the user's skin. And to offset the fact that the armor weighed about seventy pounds, the latest in exo-skeletal technology was employed right beneath the ceramic plates. Wherever Matt moved, one thousand pounds of hydraulic-powered assistance moved with him. In the armor, Matt could lift cars.

Matt rolled behind a statue as a fireteam across the road opened up full-auto with AK-47s. It was amazing - Modern Russian military, still using technology from just after World War II.

Matt, in response, raised his M8 carbine and opened fire in controlled bursts. The 6.8mm ammunition tore through the soldiers' light body armor and into the flesh beneath, quickly putting them down.

Originally developed as the XM8 by Heckler and Koch, it had been rejected by the US Army in 2005 because of pressure from Colt, back when Colt was still the principal company used by the military. But in 2012, H&K had been bought by the American government. Colt's M16 had won out in 2005 because it was an American-based company. The XM8 was the better weapon, but German made. With that barrier removed, support for the M16A5 as the next-generation in infantry rifles wavered, and eventually crumbled. The M8 took up service in the hands of special forces and elite teams, such as the MSF.

More rounds tore at Matt's cover, so he primed a flash-bang stun grenade and leaned out just far enough to toss it into the heart of the enemy fire. Confused shouts rang out, and Matt leaned back out with his carbine and strafed the Russian soldiers that had been advancing on him. Men fell, bleeding, but two more squads swung around a corner and opened fire.

Matt ducked back, reloaded, switched to full-auto, and leaned around the opposite corner, switching from righty to lefty, peaked out, and opened fire.

Four more soldiers fell before a grenade tumbled to a stop by Matt's foot.

In an instant, Matt kicked the grenade away and dove back the other way, putting as much concrete and steel between him and the explosive as possible. The grenade sailed away for two yards and then exploded, riddling the courtyard with shrapnel and causing several Russians to cry out in fresh agony.

Keeping low, Matt used the Russians' confusion to skirt the edge of their lines and come up behind a squad. With a grenade and twelve rounds of 6.8mm ammunition, Matt put the five men into the dirt and ducked away before the next team could spot him.

Working his way around the Russian lines, Matt eventually got an open line-of-sight to the tank. Dropping prone, Matt fumbled with his gauntlet controls and targeted the tank with his integrated shoulder-launched missile system. The program beeped and informed him it was locked on, and Matt hit the oversized red button on his arm. A miniature missile spat from one of the three holes and landed on the roof of the tank, delayed for half a second, and then exploded, gutting the tank and incinerating everything nearby. A dozen red lights winked off on Matt's display.

"Sierra Two-Five, this is Echo One-One. Hostile AA is destroyed, repeat, hostile AA is destroyed. We're clear for strafing runs and evac, over."

"Roger Echo One-One. Advise you seek cover - we're coming in hot and fast."

Matt ran back to the fountain and pressed his back against the concrete as Sierra Two-Five came barreling around a building and opened up with her nouse-mounted 12.7mm (.50 cal) chain gun, spewing hot led at 4,000 rounds per minute. The semi-explosive bullets tore out metal, cement, and flesh alike.

In the next second, her wingman, Sierra Two-Six, appeared and opened fire with her 40mm side-mounted repeating cannon. Same things that were mounted on the big AC-130 gunships. White puffs and flame marked the unlucky Russians futilely hiding from the two Ospreys.

Next Chapter: Atlantis Rising: Chapter 2

Homepage: Atlantis