Atlantis Rising: Chapter 13
Homepage: Atlantis
Previous Chapter: Phoenix Rising: Chapter 12
Also see: Reaper's First Drop
12:42 Hours, March 20, 2015 (Military Calendar), Atlantian Outpost Alpha, Central-East sector Atlantian Jungle, Atlantis Mainland
"Koalski. Status report." Matt groaned, resting his head against the wooden cage.
They were suspended forty feet in the air, in a kind of crow's nest cage bolted to a tree. The cage was completely camouflaged and almost invisible from the ground, which was good, considering the amount of bloodthirsty dinosaurs that roamed the jungle. On the other hand, nothing was getting in or out of the Atlantian camp. It was almost magic.
Jamie and Matt had already been treated to several renditions of Atlantian jungle combat. Their tactical approach varied according to what kind of dinosaur or other creature was intruding, and the two Americans had seen anti-Ceratosaurus, anti-Leaper (the Atlantian's name for the tree-climbing creature), and anti-Raptor scenarios, as well as Atlantians taking general pot-shots with either silenced rifles, bows, or melee against the few Microraptors and Compys that wandered through the Atlantian's neck of the wood.
Everything was carried out crisply, flawlessly, and efficiently. Matt had watched with rapt attention as a lone Leaper had near-silently slithered into a hundred-yard range of the Atlantian camp. This broke an invisible line, and three Atlantians' heads inside a regular platform, elevated 20 feet, snapped up and whispered quietly into mics. When the Leaper closed to twenty yards, still oblivious to the Atlantians, a double wall of thick chain mesh fell from the trees, isolating the Leaper.
The bloodthirsty dinosaur didn't look quite so intimidating when an Atlantian high in a tree above it dropped a flaming cast-iron ball filled with the Atlantian version of Napalm on it. Once the thing had stopped writhing, four Atlantians descended on woven straps from the canopy. One of them motioned, and two others sighted down their rifles and drilled three shots each into the Leaper's skull.
For the Ceratosaurs, a completely different approach was taken. The two twenty-foot, green-and-brown clad, semi-armored hunter-scavengers weren't allowed anywhere close to the camp. Three Atlantian pairs ran out on tree limbs above the ground. Each pair loaded what looked like a primitive double-barreled bazooka with napalm shells and lit the two dinos up. A blistering inferno claimed the first immediately, but the second managed by a combination of luck and good reflexes to avoid several of the incendiary explosives and was immediately dropped by a large, turret-mounted cannon in the center of the camp. That had left Matt's ears ringing for the better part of an hour.
The operations were undertaken with the utmost care and efficiency, true, but the Atlantian fireteams seemed only mildly anxious at facing down even the twenty-foot monsters. Raptors, on the other hand, captured the Atlantian's full attention.
A pack of the six-foot, bipedal dinos had materialized without warning at the edge of the Atlantian camp. They drew no closer than eighty meters, as if they knew about the Atlantian base within and weren't eager to cross them. However, the creatures also seemed to be deliberately bating the Atlantians, darting twenty yards in, then back out. Three of them stood in the open, just before the area where one of the layered chain-mesh walls was deployed, heads cocked, and legs partially bent. After watching them for a while, with his high vantage point, Matt spotted three more Raptors, hunched down in the ferns and shrubbery, invisible at ground level. Smart dinos.
In response, the cannon warmed up and pivoted around to track the lead Raptor. Gatling guns rotated up as well, breaking the silence of the moment. No troops were deployed lower than fifteen feet off the ground, but higher than that and the branches were lined with Atlantian commandos, each holding a rifle or a 7-barreled volley gun. The two sides had stared eachother down, until Matt got up, stuck his hand out of the bars of the cage, and whistled, yelling at the Raptors.
The lead cocked its head in question, gave a short, barking response, and turned into the jungle. The other Raptors followed its lead. Matt grinned and withdrew his hand as an arrow sprouted from the roof of his cell.
"I'm not a fricken penguin." Jamie muttered, in response to Matt's earlier question. "An' I don't have a fricken clipboard. Go get me one, and I'll doodle some options."
"Now where would I find a clipboard in the middle of the jungle?" Matt asked hazily, leaning against the side of the cell.
"Y'know what would be even better is if you managed to find a lockpick. Not that we'd get far, but I'd feel better."
"Yeah, ya know, I left my lockpicking kit in my other pants - along with my armor, weapons, helmet, comm. system, and general equipment." Matt said sarcastically.
"Jeez. Just an observation."
"Yeah...." Matt trailed off. The sun was blistering in the middle of the jungle. The Atlantians had been nice enough to provide them with a steady supply of water, but food was a different story, and it was really hot out.
They dozed for a while, resting.
"Right. Screw this." Matt said, sitting up, suddenly alert.
Matt directed his attention on the wall of the cell, and pushed. The thick wood cracked with the sound of gunshots, and the TK dissipated. Matt collected another blast and blew the wooden wall of its frame.
Bits of shattered wood peppered the ground. Matt leaned out the cage, looking down 40 feet to the ground. Atlantians began scrambling for weaponry as Jamie grabbed Matt's hand and let him partway down, enough for Matt to grab onto the tree and slide partway down, then help Jamie to the tree. Together, they slid down to the base of the tree.
Four Atlantians immediately collected around them, rifles raised.
Jamie looked at Matt.
"I'm just here for some fun is all." Matt answered.
"Right. No real hope of escape, let's just irritate some Atlantian brass."
Matt lunged forward, clutched the barrel of one rifle, and wrenched it upwards. The Atlantian struggled under Matt's enhanced strength, but to no avail. Matt twisted the gun around to face a second Atlantian, who as yet held his fire for fear of hitting his comrade, raised a leg and kicked the first Atlantian into a tree, then brought his finger to the trigger and loosed three near-simultaneous shots.
The second Atlantian fell to one knee, clutching his armor. Matt stepped forward and kicked the soldier in the face, sending him out and to the ground.
Jamie grabbed an Atlantian's rifle, twisted it over his head, and brought the guy's arm over his shoulder. Jamie turned sideways and let the Atlantian fly over his head, landing in a crumpled heap five feet away. The second guy had a clear line of fire.
Jamie raised a hand and sent the Atlantian flying with a burst of fire. The Atlantian hit the ground and stalled the oncoming Atlantians as they rolled the flames out.
Then thirty more Atlantians had Matt and Jamie surrounded.
"Here we go with the shock n' awe again." Jamie sighed.
Matt flinched in the direction of the nearest Atlantian. The guy stepped back and cocked his rifle. Matt settled and grinned, wincing as rifles instantly jammed into his head.
"Hold!" Odysseus called from a platform overhead. "You gentlemen would deny these two some sport? Clearly they have no escape. If they wish to fight, let them. All units switch to stun rounds, lower the chain gates, and send in pairs of fighters until they give up, are unconcsious, or have beat their way through more than a third of the camp. Neither of these is likely, so this should be interesting. Oh, and I must ask you not to use your flashy psi powers. At least not too much." Odysseus ordered, directing this last comment at the Americans.
"No promises." Matt muttered.
"Alright, who wants first dibs?" Jamie asked, settling back into a more relaxed stance and motioning with his hands. "Completely open."
The soldiers backed up to form a ring as two Atlantians stepped forward to general cheers and jeers all around.
Matt feinted forward and followed with a low swipe with his fist. The Atlantian blocked it easily.
This wasn't Matt's kind of fighting. His hand-to-hand skills were best employed in the confusion of general combat, not this prepared boxing match.
They could spend all day sparring at arm's length, so Matt stepped in closer, gripped the Atlantian's wrists, and twisted them out as he tried to heel-trip the guy. The Atlantian jumped over his pre-strike and countered by trying to reverse-heel-trip Matt.
Matt slipped one hand up around the back of the Atlantian's neck, pulling the head down to his chest level. He slipped his arm around, locked hands, and threw the Atlantian over his hip in a classic wrestling headlock.
The Atlantian had a body-lock, though, and as soon as they hit the ground attempted to roll Matt over. Matt was forced to let go and spin around into a half-crouch, then pounced as the Atlantian stood more slowly. They went rolling, but Matt was on top, and he rested one knee on the Atlantian's chest and pulped the guy's face.
A second Atlantian jumped into the ring even before Matt had finished with the first. Matt caught the Atlantian's feet in his chin as he rose, but he rolled with the blow, grasped the Atlantian's outstretched foot, and hauled as they both fell.
They scrabbled in the dirt for a second. Matt caught one leg again, and with that he leveraged the Atlantian up, turned, and threw the man bodily into the jungle.
Then he caught a solid punch to the mouth, spun around, and tackled the soldier Jamie was fighting.
Jamie took up for Matt as they switched targets, now with the advantage in surprise. Matt managed to wrestle out of the Atlantian's lock and kicked the soldier in the face until he let go, then in the gut till he grew still.
Jamie dispatched the first Atlantian, and then they stood panting, momentarily devoid of opponents.
Two more Atlantians advanced more slowly, cautiously. Matt focused his attention on one and began to bait him, stepping forward and jumping back, launching an occasional strike.
The Atlantian jumped forward, throwing his fist around. Matt stepped inside the blow, caught it with one hand, and jammed his other into the Atlantian's exposed neck. The soldier sank to one knee. Matt raised his leg to his chest and let it fly into the Atlantian's midsection, still holding the guy's arm. The Atlantian gave a panicked shot to Matt's jaw, and Matt's head snapped around.
Matt spit blood into the Atlantian's face, then grabbed the guy's head in both hands, threw his knee into the Atlantian's midsection twice, and then threw the soldier into a tree.
Jamie's soldier went flying onto his back in the dirt.
Heracles and Jason approached, pushing through the crowd. They both wore wide grins.
Matt and Jamie gladly returned the small, looked at eachother, and stepped back to allow the two into the ring.
"I am tired of getting killed by this guy." Jamie muttered.
"You and me both. Let's knock Jason down for a while, then take Heracles."
"You got it, bossman." Jamie split apart. "I wonder what kind of dental these two get?"
Holly leaned out one of the six bay doors in the massive Mobile Air Command/Heavy Combat Assault Aircraft/Vertical Take-off and Landing craft. MAC-HCAA-VTOL. Known as Vulcans, the military currently had only five of these in the aireal fleet. Batteries of 105mm, 40mm, and 25mm cannon dotted the front, sides, and belly of the mammoth craft. 40mm anti-aircraft turrets peppered the top. Six massive jet engines were required to provide the Vulcan with tolerable maneuverability, speed, and lift. Troop bays lay beneath each wing pylon, with grooves running across the wing so that infantry could be let out along the wings on harnesses, and dropped en masse.
In the distance, two massive Zeppelins hovered like squat, angry bugs over a battlefield. Russian fighters approached on the horizon, and were promptly shot down by circling Atlantian aerial screw helicopters and powered gliders.
The two Zeppelins dropped bombs by the crateload, smothering the area in flaming fragments. As Holly watched, the smattering of AA fire thinned, then ceased altogether.
The Vulcan buzzed to a stop over the recent battleground. Holly could see Atlantian soldiers leaving the periphery of the bombing run and climbing into their helicopters, seven man to a bird. Four of them mounted gatling guns attached to the rails in each one, giving the mobile gunships quite a punch.
The Zeppelin moved in closer, and signal flags waved from the sides. Holly couldn't tell what they meant, being in Atlantian. Holly waved to the cabin, and she could see several Atlantians milling about uncertainly. Someone took aim at her with a long-barreled gun, and Holly instinctively ducked. A cord embedded itself next to her head, and on the cord came a leather-wrapped scroll.
It was written in English. Holly frowned. That meant they had at least some people that could translate.
Holly rushed into the bridge of the Vulcan, holding the note. Admiral Ford's runner, Lt. Mitchell, spread the scroll out on a dashboard.
"'We have your heroes of Echo Squadron," Mitchell read aloud. "We wish to negotiate, not to fight. For the time being, we will release your two men when you release the prisoners held at your Firebase Bravo. Contact will be established with your commanding officer for further proposals.' Interesting. Holly, clip a radio onto the line and send it down to them, will you? This writing thing won't be fast enough."
"Yes sir." Holly said, took the offered radio, and pulled a carabiner off her combat gear. She jogged back to the bay and clipped the radio on, then sent it across.
Holly jogged back to the bridge in time to hear Lt. Mitchell patch Admiral Ford through.
"Atlantian officer, this is Vice-Admiral James Ford, Commanding Officer of the Western front." Ford said, and the comm. operator ran the transmission through an Atlantian translation filter, so when the Atlantian officer received it, it was in Atlantian.
"Admiral Ford, this is Colonel Peracles, speaking for General Odysseus. As you have heard, we wish to negotiate the terms of the release of our soldiers, and an extended cease-fire between our nations. I am told America is not in this fight for our lands, but instead to ensure our continued neutrality in the face of foreign invasion. If this is the case, then we do not wish to fight."
"You are correct in that matter, Colonel. We are here to prevent our enemies from capturing your lands, and if we can to preserve an alliance with you, our newest of countries, and an eighth continent. Our prospects are aligned with yours - your soldiers from the strike force at Firebase Bravo will be brought to a location of your choice in return for our two soldiers you are holding, you need have no fear of that. As for our cease-fire, say the word and it shall be. The paperwork will catch up eventually."
"Then so it shall. If you would, Admiral, be kind enough to escort one of our Zeppelins back to your Firebase Bravo, they will proceed to collect the prisoners. You, in turn, will follow the second Zeppelin back to our frontal field outpost to pick up your two soldiers."
"Agreed. Show us the way. I'm dispatching gunships right now to escort you to our base."
Three V-22 Ospreys lifted off from landing pads on the Vulcan's top and moved a little ways off.
"Very good, Admiral. If you would follow us, it is a short hop."
The Vulture followed the sluggish zeppelin as it rose, taking to the skies, and moved off farther into the continent.
Matt blocked Jason's next strike reflexively, then followed in with a jab to Jason's stomach. His fist hit soft flesh - the Atlantians had removed their armor in the name of fairness.
Jason collapsed around the blow and took them both to the ground. Matt's chest met Jason's upraised boot, knocking the wind out of him.
Matt rolled to one side, using his elbow to leverage Jason around and slam him into the ground through sheer strength.
Jamie took a full-on body slam from Heracles and spun around, crashing into a tree. Chuckling dementedly, Jamie turned around, grinning through a mouthful of blood, caught Heracles' fist, and followed through with a shot of his own, dropped the hand as Heracles sank to the ground. Jamie brought both of his hands together and swung them in an overhead arc onto Heracles' head.
"Aw, yeah that felt good." Jamie yelled.
Matt turned and caught Jason's fist, twisted it to one side, and tried to jab in. Jason jumped sideways and twisted out of Matt's grip.
Matt followed in with a kick to Jason's kidney, making Jason curl around to one side, then slammed his knee into Jason's chest.
Jason went flying again and hit dirt. His eyes grew to the size of ping-pong balls as he sucked air, trying to get his breath back.
Matt leaned forward and grabbed Jason's ankle, dragging him through the dirt so he lay next to Heracles, who was pinned to the ground with Jamie's foot on his throat.
"I think we win this one." Matt choked.
"Not - yet." Jason grunted, holding his side. He drew back onto his shoulders and drove both his feet into Matt's chest, flipping over and sending Matt to the ground.
Jamie looked over and threw his foot in. Jason blocked the swipe, grabbed Jamie's foot, and hauled, taking them both to the dirt.
Matt rolled onto his feet and considered the 7-foot-tall mass that stood before him.
"Having fun yet?" Matt asked.
Heracles snarled and threw his fist forward. Matt lurched backward, supporting himself with one hand, and kicked his foot into Heracles' midsection.
Heracles dropped to the dirt, pinning Matt's legs. Matt sat up and threw punch after punch, nailing Heracles in the face.
Heracles buried his head in the dirt and shot out one arm, which impacted against Matt's chin.
Matt flew back onto his elbows and desperately tried to crawl out of Heracles' embrace. Heracles curled around Matt's legs, stood, and threw Matt bodily into a tree.
Matt blinked, stepping out of a shallow depression in the wood, and turned and rammed his fist into Heracles' oncoming face.
Heracles managed to kick out Matt's knee, and they both fell to the ground again.
Just then, the sound of jets and rotors filled the air. Matt looked up and saw a sky filled with a combination of olive-drab and gold-white-and-blue aircraft. Both he and Heracles paused mid-blow, fists raised.
Two smaller craft descended from the American Vulcan. XV-22 Valkyries, some serious firepower. An F-35 JSF sank to an altitude of thirty feet and hovered protectively over the Valkyries.
Twenty men trooped out of each Valkryie, rifles dangling from their single-point-attachment elastic straps. Non-threatening, but a show of military might all the same. Matt could see from their full face helmets and matte-black armor that these guys weren't the average Marines. Their shoulders bore the insignia of the 13th Black Ops Division - An eagle, encircling a crouched, armored figure with a combat knife, held backhanded, with the number 13 beneath. They were the elite of the American military next to the Marine Shock Forces. The only thing that separated Matt from them was that the 13th couldn't use psi.
Lieutenant Mitchell stepped out of the cabin of the second Valkyrie. He approached and shook hands with Odysseus, who had descended with a troop of his own forest-camouflaged elite soldiers. Mitchell handed Odysseus a radio, who then put it to his ear and listened for several moments.
Odysseus turned around and began pointing and ordering in his native language. The assembled Atlantian troops packed up their weapons and retreated to the upper levels of their jungle fort.
Odysseus approached with Mitchell. Matt got up and brushed the dirt off himself, then helped Jamie up. Heracles and Jason fell back into the shadows.
"Gentlemen, we've secured your release." Mitchell announced. "Get aboard my Valkryie - we'll be leaving immediately to take you two back to base for debriefing."
Mitchell cast an eye at the two Atlantians, then at Matt's and Jamie's various injuries. "Might want to see the medic when you get aboard the Vulcan."
Matt nodded. "Aye, sir."
He and Jamie limped off to climb aboard a Valkyrie as Mitchell conversed with Odysseus. As they reached the line of 13th Marines, the two closest to the door nodded respectfully. Matt half-smiled and nodded back. That was most friendly gesture he'd ever seen a Thirteen give.
General Odysseus raised the radio to his ear again. Apparently some kind of confirmation came, because Odysseus nodded as if agreeing, then handed the headset back to Mitchell. Mitchell then walked calmly back to the Valkyrie and climbed in. The Thirteens turned in formation and filed back aboard the dropships. The F-35 rose into the sky as the Valkryies increased thrust, climbing towards the Vulcans.
"Good work out there. Looks like you gave those Atlantian SOBs a beating." Mitchell grinned. "American elites at work."
"Oo-rah." One of the Thirteens agreed, but because they all wore full-face helmets, Matt couldn't tell who.
Matt took one of the twenty-five gel-suspension seats and buckled himself in. They had a long flight home ahead.
