NationStates Jolt Archive

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St. Myhre, Delesa
Prime Ministers Office

The lights were out, apart from the lights that flashed on the phone. The Prime Minster, Lester Geddie, leaned back in his large back leather chair. It was late at night, his wife probably worrying about where he his, probably the one phoning. But he was in no mood to answer. Rather he got up and grabbed his jacket of the rack and walked out the door. Proceeding down to the underground parkade, he kept to himself, not bothering to say hi or even nod acknowledgment to the secretary or the security guard at the gate to the parkade. Instead he kept his head down, reading a folder labeled ‘Secret PM Eyes ONLY’ on the front in red.

The United Commonwealth had spheres of influence around the globe, dominions and protectorates numbering in the double digits. And this folder had one of those colonies listed and profiled. The operations that the United Armed Forces and D4 industries had going where listed in short detail. It was a little country, with little interest to the overall Commonwealth, although, one operation under command of D4 and was only put down as Bio-weapon research, and the hopes that it would be a crowd dispenser of sorts. A non-lethal way to shut down violent riots. But nothing else was listed, a location, a commanding officer, only that the chemical in question was known as Chemical Agent Red, and that it was still in the trial phase.

Lester got into his BMW SUV and threw the report on the passenger side chair, himself in the drivers seat. Geddie wasn’t one to be driven around by some personal servant. He ripped out of the gates, stopping briefly to show the guards his face, then took off down the road towards the large Department of United Armed Forces glass and steel structure on the other side of town. When he turned on the street, the large structure announced itself, the massive building towering over the pedestrians making them fell so small, and the building a giant. A massive Delesian flag banner hung down, flapping gently in the breeze.

Lester pulled into the heavily guarded parking lot and got out, bringing with him the report. His cell phone rang, and he looked at the caller ID. Damn it’s her again. He flipped it open and started to walk to the doors.

“Yes, I know, yes. Of course, I am very busy and something came up, I’m just outside the defense building now. No! I am surly not sleeping with the secretary! How many times do we go over this? Look you can come down here and see me in 5 minutes, but I have to talk to Gordan about something important. No you can’t know! And no I’m sure Gordan doesn’t want any muffins. Alright, I’ll see you in 10 minutes tops.” He shoved his phone into his pocket and picked up his pace. He was greeted at the door by the welcoming heat of the building, not to mention the ever-friendly MSS agents at the door.

He proceeded up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator. He walked into the Defense Minister’s office and plopped down on the sofa.

“That woman is on my back again about staying out late.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t!” relied the familiar voice of Gordan, from behind a desk loaded with paper and binders.

“Well, if you think that, then it’s a good thing I told her you didn’t want any muffins.” A smirk slide across his face. Gordan returned it with a look of astonishment.

“You can be an ass sometimes Lester!”

“Please! Now we have to get down to what we get paid to do. And she is going to be here in 5 minutes knowing here.”

“Alright so here’s the situation….” Gordan went on to tell the Prime Minister was the 3rd Calvary regiment found when they arrived in Eraia…

Alfa Beachhead, Eraia

It was fast, as the regiment was trained to do this, many times over, amoung other things. The 3rd Calvary Regiment stormed the docks as the Alfa site, and the beach to the west and east, Bravo and Charlie respectfully. No rounds were fired, as this wasn't a shooting war, at least not yet. The soldiers didn't even know who they were up against, it any thing. But something was wrong. An entire colony of 6 million just dont stop talking to the world and just disappear. No, something was wrong, and it was evident as the Task Fleet entired the Eraia waters. No calls or replies from the maritime command, just radio interference.

The tanks revved there engines, eager to off-load the transport and be on their way. The 3rd Armed was an entire regiment of the Leopard II tanks, unlike the 1st Regimant and its M1 Abrams, and the 2nd with their Challenger II tanks and so on. The ground unit attacked was the 4th Mechanized Infantry. A-10 Warthogs roomed the skies along with the F14s and F18s. UH-60 helicopters hovered above the troops, the men onboard ready to jump down the lines and secure the area. But the beach was secure, and now rerouted further inland. But before they got to that point, the tanks were able to offload. They roared over the beach, the noise of the engines blocking out conversation. It wasn't too long until... well nothing. Nothing happened. Nobody seemed to be home, ships sat in the harbor some secured to the docks, others drifting with the non-existent current.

Reports came into the operation's HQ on board the HMDS. Nelson a Nimtz Class Aircraft Carrier. There was no opposition and forces were pushing further inland. No contact had been made with any one. Not even an animal had been run into.

But then it was found. A body was found washed up on the shore at Alfa site. The body was bloated and white. When rolled over the face was a wrinkled mess. The green soldiers of the squad that found it, found their breakfast all over the ground. The body had been in the water for sometime. A quick look over showed that there was perhaps no foul play. The body had no cuts, no wounds, no bullet holes. It was just a corpse, a lifeless ugly one at that.

Although there was no resistance, it wasn't going to be a fast trip to the capital, as the highway to the coast was packed with vehicles of all sorts. It looked at though the people attempted to flee for the coast, and yet there were no bodies. But there was blood, plenty of that on the seats, splattered on the road, the side of the vehicals, and yet still no empty rounds, or bullet holes. Some of the few military vehicles like APCs and LAVs were on the road, the insides crusted with old dried blood.

The Prime Minister was not going to like this.

St. Myhre, Delesa

It was going official, the country of Eraia was a mess. Bodies had begun to be found in... stockpiles. And worst was that the 3rd Calvary had encountered people. But had to shoot them as they attacked soldiers of His Majesty's Forces. It was clear something was wrong with the people and the islands a biohazard of sorts. The Prime Minister was now calling to the word for aid. For their help to capture and attempt to treat the people. As well as to find out went wrong. The prize? Land, slightly used, and now infested with unhuman beings.

The Commonwealth needed help.


New London, Eraia

http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/39711000/jpg/_39711945_biosuits203bodyap.jpg

The city had some what been cleaned up as the bodies were cleared from the streets and the roads cleared of empty vehicles. Now instead of empty cars sitting on the streets, now it was tanks and armored carriers. Foot patrols walked the streets. Teams in bio-suits cleaned the blood and examined the bodies. It was determined that the human creatures were very dangerous and now an enemy of the Commonwealth. Meaning the soldiers of the Armed Forces were to open fire on contact.

A land base of operations had now been established. It was put in the parliament building, now known as Zulu Site. Sandbags piled high and stationary weapons were placed on the corners. Large heavy duty lights were constructed, lighting the streets at night.

04:46 AM, Zulu Site Guard Post Alfa

Corporal Daniel Bonhomme sat in his chair with his helmet on his near, his C7 rifle across his lap. He rubbed his bald head. He was the officer in charge for the shift. His sergeant was to replace him in 14 minutes, along with a few privates. The sandbag bunker wasn't well light, but he could pick out Private Leonard Shylton in the corner, resting his head on his knees that wree pulled up to his chest. His rifle rested against the wall. He looked out the porthole in the front and stood up, putting his helmet back on his head. He looked out to the tank to his right flank.

"What the hell...?" he mumbled. Then from behind he was ripped back, something broke his skin at the base of his neck, and he could fell as his arms and legs gave way. His body fell limp to the floor, his head resting so that he coudl see his attacker. It was Leonard, and as it looked Leonard was beginning to lean down to finish the job, the bunker shuttered violently and a section of the roof came crashing down on Leonard, crushing his body. Then with the rear wall and roof missing, Daniel partly realized the situation he was in. The creatures had gotten behind his post and now massed at the closed gates. Another explosion and several of the bodies were flung in the air. Daniel realized that the explotions and what had caused the bunker to collapse was the tank to his right. Then the familar heavy tapping of the .50 caliber machine gun opened up, the popping of C7 rounds. In 5 minutes the 20 some things were all dead on the ground, bloody begining to soak the corporal's clothes. He tried to move his arms and get up, but his body failed to move. And yet no pain apart from the tingle at the back of his neck. But then he slowly gave way, his eye lids slowly shut, his lungs sloping the flow of oxygen. the heart pumping all the blood out his wounds. Then he stopped all together, and then there was nothing.

The men of the 92nd Mechanized Infantry Battalion were on deck of five amphibious assault ships. The Battalion had been called up without notice and had boarded the three ships. For three days they had been on the sea. Many of the men got sick because of not being use to the waves. Their location was a total unknown. Only their commander officer knew what their mission was, but it was very vague. The mission was to land on some island and to engage any hostiles. It sounded like a cake walk.

As the sun started to set, the men could see land off in the distance. They looked with binoculars to the shore, but saw no one. It was odd for the entire shore to be deserted. When the sun finally set, the men also noticed that no lights could be seen. They had seen a major town in the distance, but no lights. What had caused that to happen? It was a total unknown.

The next morning reported for duty bright and early. It was invasion day. The men were dressed in their combat fatigues and carried an assortment of weapons ranging from the G36 assault rifle, MG4 light machine, and G22 sniper rifle. The men were eager to finally see some action and finally hear about the mission. The men were to land on the beach, secure a landing point, then make there way up north to the other side of the island. Along the way they were to capture any towns.

Once the debriefing was done, the men got ready. Men checked their weapons and load up on extra ammo. Finally the ships hit the beach. The first men poured out and found that the beach was entirely empty. They heard absolutely nothing. The men started to fan out and check for any hostiles. They found nothing, but silence. The Marder, infantry fighting vehicle, started to move out of the ships and pick up any soldiers. From the deck of one of the ships a CH-53 Sea Stallion took off. On board was a group of selected soldiers that would secure a airport further inland. The troops were starting to become more relax as the supplies moved off the ship. So far there had been no contact.

Brigadier General Claus von Stauffenberg sat down his chair. Just this morning the 92nd Mechanized Infantry Battalion had landed on the beach of this island. They had captured a couple of small villages, but the soldiers had finally captured a town. Making there way up North they found no resistance. They found a couple of bodies, that had no wounds, and an eerie silence. Many of the men had become lax and were hardly on guard. Coming upon the town, the soldiers secured the town and started to make fortifications. This town would be the base of operations. The town was without power, so they set a couple of generators and put spot lights on the edges of the town. Small bunkers had been built on roads that lead out of town. Once night fell, all was quiet.

General von Stauffenberg heard only the wind screeching. This island was odd. So far they had found no alive persons. Also further up North, at the airport, the platoon there had reported no active. The platoon was to stay and secure the airport until the main force reached them.

The landing craft started to head back to their mother ships off the shore, but they left behind force of airborne troops and elite special forces. Their mission, aid friendly forces in anyway and find out what happen to the people there. The commanding officer, John Carter, looked over his force of 125 soldiers moving across the beach, moving large crates using trucks and humvees. He then looked down at his map and then looked at his compass. It would take them sometime to get a base set up, but otherwise everything was going as plan. He looked to the city in front of him, several miles separated them, but he had an odd feeling about the city. It looked lifeless, as it is, but he had this feeling in the back of his head that the people there aren't completely gone. Well, when the base is set up and they get their coppers, they can check it out. Untill then, there was nothing to do.

"Sir."

"Huh? Oh, what?" John looked toward the airborne trooper, who like the others wearing green, blocky camouflage.

"Message from Green Hawk." He handed the message and left to help move the equipment off the beach. John looked at the message.

TO: GENRAL JOHN CARTER COMMANDING OFFICER OF OPERATION: WHAT HAPPEN TO THE PEOPLE

John noted that his joke of which to name this operation was taken seriously. The guys at command must be laughing their asses off right now...

FROM: GENARL OF ARMY CHARLES GOTH

REPORTS FROM FRIENDLIES SUGGEST NO HOSTELS IN AREA. YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE A CITY FROM THE BEACH. WATCH OVER THAT CITY AND CLEAN IT UP. WARNING: NO FRIENDLIES ARE NEAR YOU TO SUPPORT YOU. YOUR GOING TO HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES. OVER.

What?! Are they cazy? Sure, working with other nation's armies is hard to do, but working on our own? John hoped the part about no hostels is true because he has a peacekeeping force, not a fighting force. John looked to the city again. Why is it so quiet? Even if the people are gone there should be animals. Strange...

FF-1016
Katana Mod H2 Class General Purpose Frigate (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=12156886&postcount=28)
Off the South coast of Eraia.

It wasn't every day that a remote outpost disappears without a trace overnight, at leat not anymore, well, except New Roanke Island...

Regardless, such an occurance managed to get the attention of some Hurtian Naval brass and they convinced the Ministry to send a single frigate to figure out what is going on, since Delsea was having a media blackout on the subject, the Hurtian spy satallites were on the fritz again, and Hurtian pride prevented them from asking.

Eccentricities aside, the men on FF-1016 had a job to do.

On the rear of the ship's deck, was a pair of Mi-17 medium transport helicopters, recently purchased from The World Soviet Party, the paint still immaculately clean, although the salt spray had other plans.

One section of Hurtian Marines boarded each Mi-17, leaving some room for other equipment, being that the entire colony dissapeared in less than 24 hours, they didn't want to take chances, each man was armed with a CM-28 assault rifle, a simplified, and more reliable version of the CM-26, in s belt holster, each carried a HAP-655 PDW, both weapons were esigned to fire the Hurtian 6.5x55 mm standard rifle cartridge, half the men also carreied underbarrel weapons, the HM-320 underbarrel mortar, while the other half carried the new SHAW-12K on a shoulder sling. Thier field grey uniforms apeared pitch black in the dark, wet, and stormy weather as another wave washed upon the deck.

In charge of these men was Hutrian Marine Raider Donnovan, an old grizzled man, who had apparently seen considerable fighting on his earlier tour of duty on New Roanoke Island, many of the younger marines wondered why these old geezers stayed active in the service and not submit to a desk job like everybody else.

Had they asked, Donnovan had a very detailed answer ready for them, but in short, if you don't go to the fight, the fight will come to you, and beat you to the ground in the most humiliating manner immaginable.

After Donnovan shouted few incoherent orders at the young marines, they closed up the doors, cutting them off from the salt spray, and the two helicopters lifted off in the storm.

Not much was said during the trip, as there wasn't anything worth talking about anymore, and there wouldn't be anything worth talking about until their situation changed.

The sky was still overcast, with a light drizzle as they flew over the coast, The co-pilot consulting a map that was about 4 years old trying to find the largest settlement from which to begin their search. Though it wasn't that big on the map, New London appeared to be the best bet - albeit, the only one - on the map.

They weren't exactly expecting the 'small' settlement to be quite as big as it was though, the impression being like walking into an outhouse and finding yourself inside a mansion. A few minor fires could be seen along the way, the first thought was riots or a war, but no bodies could be seen...

Around the north perimiter, tanks and people wearing Haz-mat suits could be seen.

"Gas masks on, MOPP Alpha!"

Almost immediately, the men donned MOPP condition Alpha equipment (gas mask and gloves), and the cockpit was given filtered overpressure as a simple door was closed between the cabin and them. After this was done, the Squad leaders and assistant squad leaders opened the doors to their Mi-17s as they surveyed the scene upon final approach.

"Keep one of these airborne and cover us as we land, we don't know if these are hostiles, for all we know, these are the enemy!"

Donnovan's chopper circled as the other landed and a Staff Sgt. hopped out and tried to talk to one of the 'locals'.

http://www.mccoy.army.mil/readingroom/triad/10082004/images/History_MOPP_300x.jpg

A lone CH-53 Sea Stallion was sitting on an abandon airport. A few lights could be seen. One was coming from the rather large control tower, a small two story building, and a few spot lights set up on top of the building. Lighting and thunder could be seen or heard. Then within minutes a down pour began. The sky was a dark black and the moon could not be seen. The airport was a scary place.

Lt. Willy Brandt sat on top of his makeshift fold up cot. He and twenty-six other men were trying to get some sleep. Just this morning Lt. Brandt and his platoon were aboard the CH-53 Sea Stallion bent on capturing the airport. Most men were nervous because they were going deep within the country and would have no support. Once the CH-53 Sea Stallion landed, the platoon found the airport completely deserted. They searched a 1 mile radius around the airport, and still found nothing. A couple of the men had reported seeing figures in the distance, but Lt. Brandt brushed them off.

At noon they started to set up a HQ. Nearing night time a complete base had been set up. The search lights were on top of the building and watching the surrounding areas. While the platoon's sniper, Cpl. Michael Coats, was located in the control tower with another soldier. Five men were to be on watch at all times. Lt. Brandt could not seem to fall asleep. There was something strange about this island. Off in the distance he could see the flash of the lighting.

Private Charles Veach was walking back to the two story from the control tower. Cpl. Coats had complained about needing coffee. Pvt. Veach had his G36 slung around his shoulder. He hated being in the rain. As he walked he heard some foot steps around him. It must have been Cpl. Coats. Charles turned around to see a whole new face. The person was dirty and had a bunch of wounds all over their body.

"Are you okay?"

The person lunged forward and tackled Veach to the ground. Veach held the person's head up with his hands. Had this person gone insane?

"What the hell are you doing?" Veach cried out.

Kicking off the madman, Pvt. Veach quickly got up. He pointed his G36 at the person.

"Stay where you are or I will shoot?"

Charles leveled his gun and the laser dot appeared on the person's head. The person again lunged forward. Veach pulled down on the trigger. A fury of bullets hit the person's head. The head literally exploded. The rain drops pelted his helmet. The blood oozed of the person's head. Veach pointed his rifle to the ground. He sighed for a moment, but a mouth bite into his neck. Charles screamed out as flesh from his neck was ripped off. Blood oozed all over the place. Pvt. Veach fell to the ground and dropped his rifle. Both of his hands clutched his wound. He saw more figures surround him, but all he felt was tearing feeling.

Cpl. Coats was alerted once he heard the gunshots, then the loud scream. He quickly grabbed his G22 sniper rifle and night vision goggles. All he saw was a mass of people around something. Getting his G22, he got to see a closer look. It looked to be Pvt. Veach. This people were eating Pvt. Veach. Dropped his G22, Michael's shaking hands reached for a radio.

"Lt. Brandt, this is Cpl. Coats. I think we might have a problem."

Lt. Brandt was quick to react and grabbed the radio. "What is it Coats?"

"Sir, I think Pvt. Veach is dead."

"What the hell killed him?"

"Sir, currently some people are eating him. I think they took him down with their hands."

Lt. Brandt looked stunned and could not believe what he was hearing. "Are you sure you are not seeing something?"

"No sir."

Lt. Brandt quickly got up and grabbed his G36. Willy ran up a pair of stairs and made his way up to the roof. Three men were sitting down in some chairs. They quickly got up and saluted Lt. Brandt.

"Shine a spot light near the control tower."

The spot light quickly moved toward the control tower. Brant could see no body or crazy people. "Move the light down."

The light slowly moved down until a group of people surrounding a body appeared. The men looked in disgusting. One of their comrades was being eaten.

"Coats kill those bastards."

Brandt ordered a nearby soldier with a MG4 light machine to get ready to fire. The soldier quickly aimed toward the group of people. Up in the tower, Coats saw the head appear in between his crosshair. He pulled the trigger and saw the body drop to the ground. The nearby MG4 fired. The muzzle flash blazed a deep red. Within seconds the group of people was no more. All that was left was a bunch of bodies. Blood splattered the ground, but mixed with the water. Brandt looked off in the distance. They were going to need reinforcements.

The base (after hours of hard work) was finally set up. Other people whose job would be to keep the base in order were coming in now, on hover craft. 150 soliders and 200 support personnel equaled a total of 350 personnel of this operation. John also had 5 UH-60 Blackhawks, 7 CH-47 Chinooks, 4 UH-1 Iroquois, and 2 HH-60 Rescue Hawks. Soldiers were mostly made up of airborne troops, but there were some special forces troops too. Now, as John stood in front of a Blackhawk, he wondered what was going on with that city. He got on and got himself a seat in the back. He noted the commandoes dressed in thier normal outfit. Black jacket, black pants, black bullet proof vest, black hiking boots, black gloves, black helmet and a black gas mask. Their was four of them, all armed with a HK416 and a P7 as a side arm, John also noted that they all had a combat knife. During his thinking the rotator of the helicopter started up with increasing force. The load master did his final check on the mini-gun. Then the bird took off.

Later, over the city

What the hell? John thought to himself. Where is everybody? Even if their dead, there should be bodies and what abo...

"I got something." One of the special forces guys said. "On our six." He added. John took a look out the opening on the side of the helicopter. What John saw would give him nightmares for years to come. A group of people were running away from a second larger group of people. When the first group saw the aircraft they stopped and started to wave their arms. The secound group jumped onto the first one and start to...

"Fire that mini! Get those people away from each other!" John yelled. The load master was already at the mini-gun and was ready. The co-pilot flipped a switch and the mini-gun started to rotate. Once the gun reached up to speed the load master started to fire. The rounds hit the area near the large mass of people, but none of them moved. John got sick to his stomach when he saw someone's lag get ripped off as well as his arms and people or whatever they were started to eat it.

"Shoot those things!" At John words the load master changed the direction of his fire. The things or monsters as John saw them were ripped from limb to limb as a hail of bullets hit them.

"Get us close, I want a closer look." John said. The gunner stopped firing the mini, but the gun was left on.

OOC: Special Forces (http://mypetjawa.mu.nu/archives/aussie_special_forces_darth_vader_2.jpg) Airborne troops (http://whyfiles.org/025chem_weap/images/march.gif)

Two days after the disturbance (well, if you could call it that) on Delesa, a Barronian NBC Division was mobilised and entering Delesian waters.

The Barronian Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Control Forces were an army unto themselves. They had specialised everything: their own flotilla, air force, ground forces, commanders, and were entirely seperate from the standard Army, Air Force, and Naval Service. Naturally, if either of the three mainstream forces required aid, they couldn't refuse, but otherwise they acted independantly. This was almost an "otherwise" case.

High Command was concerned about the happenings on the island and it's possibility to spread across the globe. They, therefore, had decided to ensure that nothing made it off the island. At least, that was the reason made public. In reality, they had planned for a SpecOps team to infiltrate and secure the Chemical (known among the BNBCCF as "Agent Delta"), and transport a sample back to High Command for analysis and replication. It would make a fine addition to the arsenal.

The battlegroup organised by NBC High Command was: 8 Judge Class Assault Carriers, 1 Armada Class Aircraft Carrier, 2 Knight Class SSNs, 2 Minister Class AA Missile Cruisers, 1 Mercy Class Hospital Ships, 4 Magistrate Class Missile Frigates, several Clipper Class Patrol Ships and Vizier Class Support Ships.

OOC: This may seem a tad much, but we're pretty big when it comes to Naval gear. We're primarily show-offs, always out to make a point. Plus, we're sending a division, plus enough equipment to decontaminate and supply the lot. Need a lot of space on the ships. The aircraft carrier is a standard addition, even on "humanitarian" operations. We've...got people that don't like us.

One of those Assault Carriers would be secretly carrying SpecOps teams, whose objectives, once inserted by stealth onto the island, were to be to hunt down and secure the bunker, retrieve a sample of the purified chemical, and return it. The main bulk of the force was to proceed as instructed - decontaminate the island, move slowly, clear all debris from city streets and roads, and remove all unstable structures. It was a big job, but it needed to be done to aid the Delesian government in repopulating the area.

High Command had decided to have the main force land in the south of the island, setting up a base on the side of the lake opposite New London. From there, they would be able to work their way northwards, clearing as they went. It'd also allow for a full sweep of the island for the bunker SpecOps would be looking for.

-----

Sunset, just south of the islands


The BMS Albatross, the Armada Class Aircraft Carrier acting as the flagship for the battlegroup, was the first to make landfall.

SIC:

"Sir, we've located the projected landing site. 12 Miles north of our location."
"Good. Let the Assault ships know, and tell them to prepare for SpecOps release."

From the back of one of the Assault ships, 10 small, black craft left the docking area. They were carring each 25 Special Operations troops, all of whom had been briefed on the situation at hand, what to do and what most definately not to do. Their aim was simple: find, secure, and extract a sample of the purified "Agent Delta". They didn't know what it did, but they did know that it was dangerous enough to warrant top-level biological and chemical protection.

The ten black craft split and headed for differing parts of the islands.

IC: As the Assault ships approached the two-mile distance, the deck was abuzz with activity. Chinooks and Sea Stallions were being prepped for launch, troops in full chemical and biological protection were marching into the rears of the helicopters. Down below decks, landing craft were being loaded with trucks, APC's, light tanks, and surveying equipment too heavy to carry by air.

Survey planes and helicopters had been deployed, and had reported heat signatures on the island, though they didn't respond to any frequency they were hailed by. They weren't other decontamination teams - all parties had been briefed on their landing sites. The troops were going to have to go in hot.

As the first helicopters left the deck, the man in charge, Lieutenant-Colonel Bradshaw, briefed the men on what to do once they hit the land.

"Right, I need a perimeter formed on the beach. Machine gun posts, mortar stations, portable Rapiers, the works. We know there's something out here, we just don't know what. Looks like it's civilians, but we're not taking chances. The chemical that's here may have been used by soldiers. Nor do we know how friendly these folks will be. If anything, it'll scare 'em into submission."

The pilot informed Bradshaw of their proximity to the LZ, and the helicopters began to drop.

On landing, all hell broke loose.

"Move move move! Bravo team, get those guns in position! Tango One, I want the beach covered by the sniper teams!" Men, running all over the place, almost didn't notice the civilian wandering toward them. One private went to let them know what was happening.

"Sir, we're the Barronian NBC Team, we're here to help -argh!"

The civilian had lunged and bitten into the Private's neck, and was busy chewing on the muscle. His commander was stunned. What the hell were they dealing with here?

"What are you waiting for, drop-"

A single shot, as a nearby sniper fired. The civilian/zombie's head was simply blown away. Chunks of flesh, bone, and grey matter rained down on the soldiers. They stood silent, horrified at what had just taken place. The commander's voice broke the silence.

"Right, I want that private on the first helicopter back to the Nightingale. All of you are to make doubly-sure that no civilians enter the camp. If they try, it's now a shoot-on-sight. Let Bradshaw know, too."

Bradshaw was flabberghasted when informed of the event. Civilians going vampires? What the hell was this? Just what did this chemical do to people?

"Make sure that Private is quarantined on the Nightingale. Any civilians you encounter, talk to them from a distance. Use loudspeakers. No coming-up close. I want trained spotters with every team that goes out, snipers too. Affirmative?"

"Yes sir. Will do." Came his reply.

The building went on into the night. After tonight's incident, extra security was being placed. They weren't sure if these people could still use weapons, and safer was much, much better than sorry.

The Airport

Lt. Brandt, Sgt. Fitzgerald, and Pvt. Nelson walked across the damp airport's tar mack. The sun had come up and they could finally see. Last night Lt. Brandt ordered that the men stay where they were, after the firefight. He also tried to call up HQ, but Willy got no response. The three men motioned their weapons around awaiting any hostiles. As they neared the bodies they got smell the stench. It was a gruesome sight. Pvt. Veach had been literally ripped apart. They could see his internal organs. Pvt. Nelson kicked off the other things, and finally saw the remains of Pvt. Veach. Lt. Brandt looked in disgust as Sgt. Fitzgerald started to move these zombies like creatures to the side. A door opened and the men quickly looked toward it with their guns raised. It was only Cpl. Coats.

The four men quickly packed the remains of Pvt. Veach into a body bag, then set fire to the creatures bodies. They were once humans, but had come something else. They were real life zombies. The four men looked as the bodies burned to a crisp.

"So Brandt, when are we going to leave to get away from these Zacks?" asked Pvt. Nelson. He had thought of a creative name for these creatures.

"We can't. We have direct orders to stay here until the main force comes up. They should arrive here within a week, or at least that's the estimate." Lt. Brandt said as he looked blankly into the surrounding areas.

The men were stuck here or until they got orders to leave. The four men quickly got into the two-story building to begin a defense, for the incoming assault from the "Zacks".

A lone DES amphibious assault ship previously known as the HMS Intrepid was making its way to Eraia. On the deck the only CH-53 Sea Stallion was being filled with the elite Deurem Special Taskforce. Nearby two AH-1J SeaCobras were being fueled just in case there was any trouble that the first contingent of men who would set foot on the land would get.


"We don't know whats in store so I want everyman ready." said Lt. Marcus Waldren the leader of the Platoon that would land first on the island."We are to establish connection with any other forces on the island and then signal back to the Luna our location." the Lt. said as the helicopter sprung into life.


The Platoon inside consisted mostly of men of the various armed forces of the Deurem Empire. Ranging from the elite Imperial Guard to the ordinary Deurem National Army. All of them had been recurited for this special mission. Oh how glorious to take land for the Deurem Empire had been the words said by the many officers that had recurited them.

As the plane lifted off it began to send a recorded message that anyone could here. It said,

"The Deurem Empire would like to met with any survivors and/or militaries on the island to discuss a possible coalition to combat the enemy."

The message was meant for those militaries that had more power than the Deurem Empire. It was too weak to possibly send a large force to make any big impact but with help it could.

Three people in total of survivors were found. One was rescued, but the other two were lost to the "things" as everyone in the task force called them. She was being questioned by John.

"Ma'am. Clam down, we are here to help you, but we can't if you won't eat or drink anything." John felt pity for this women who was laying on a white bed in a medical tent in the base. She started shaking uncontrollably every ten minutes. Her kids or at least what John thought were her kids were killed right in front of her. By mini-guns. The "things" looked exactly like people, so things will happen and they were being chased by "things" so they had to act fast. The plate of food was untouched as well as the water. John walked over to the head of medical in the task force.

"What's wrong with her?" John asked.

"I'll give it to you straight. She was so frighten that she became semi-petrified."

"What?"

"Basically, right now, she is dying of freight. If she doesn't clam down, she will die. Her heart just can't take it and the rest of her body isn't doing good either." Crap. The one survivor they get and she is dying because of fear. What is going on out there? John ordered for a ground convoy to get ready to move out.

"Sir, we've picked up a transmission."

"Play it."

"The Deurem Empire would like to met with any survivors and/or militaries on the island to discuss a possible coalition to combat the enemy."

"Okay. Put me on their frequency. Ahem - This is Lieutenant-Colonel B. Bradshaw of the Barronian Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Control Forces. We are here on a decontamination and clean-up operation to aid Delesa. We would like to know what it is you mean by 'the enemy'." To the operator: "Repeat that transmission until we get a response."

"Yessir."

Zulu Site, New London

The operations room was calm, the day outside was also relaxed, as soldiers on break played a rough game of soccer in the fenced off 'safe' area. The high sun threatened to bake the soldiers up where they stood.

Meanwhile in front of a radio box, the operator was sweating buckets as the air conditioner beside him was broke, cheap army quality. He kicked the machine, it sputtered sightly then died again. At this point he was ready to go take one from the near-by houses. No one was using them.

Then his radio started up and transmissions began coming through. Well at least something is working in this heat he thought. Just as he was finished copying down the first message, another one began transmitting from a different force. He copied this one as well and proceeded to call his supervisor who in turn called his CO. Who then ordered that a message of their own be transmitted.

"This is the Delesian Armed Forces Coalition based in New London. Glad to see our request was heard. We request that an officer of all the nations present on Eraia make your way to New London and meet personally and discuss plans for this operation."

General Claus von Stauffenberg looked out a threw a pair of binoculars and saw the incoming creatures. The small group of soldiers opened fire on them. Thee creatures quickly fell to the ground. During the night of the big storm those things began their attack. He had been woken up and was told that some of the outlying bunkers had reported movement or just screams and then the radio would cut out. General von Stauffenberg ordered the men on high alert. Within a few seconds an air raid siren went off. The men rushed out into the streets with their battle dress on. The soldiers were quickly given orders, and then they dispersed off.

Claus followed one of the squads to see what was happening. Once getting near the patrol bunker, they could hear the fire and flash of the MG4 light machine gun. The men rushed forward to see what they were firing at. The men within the bunker were firing at humans. Claus rushed up to one of the men.

"STOP FIRING, THOSE ARE CIVILIANS!"

The soldier paid no attention to the General and kept on firing. Claus turned the solider around.

"STOP FIRING!"

The soldier noticed Claus' rank and gave him a salute.

"Sorry, General, but those things are coming for us. They attacked and killed our commanding officer. Lt. Volk went out there we they started to come. We thought they were civilians and they looked to be hurt. Lt. Volk told us to stay here and he went out. They crowded around him, and brought him done. Then they tore him to shreds. So we killed those bastards. They are not humans."

The soldier finished talking, and then quickly returned to firing his G36.Claus walked out of the bunker and faced the other men.

"Kill those things."

The new soldiers opened fire on them. They could be clearly seen with the bright spot lights. The new soldiers started to enter buildings and fire from them.

By the morning the fight had been won. Bodies laid all over the place. Blood was splattered all over the road. A stench could be smelled. The soldiers looked in disbelieve to see the faces of their enemies. General von Stauffenberg ordered that at once fences be placed up on the out lying areas of the town, with spot lights. Right away the men started with the job. Claus also ordered that more ammunition be dropped within the town; they were defiantly going to need more. Claus knew why the platoon at the airport had not responded in the last two days. They must have been overrun with these things. This was going to be no cake walk.

The Deurem force on the helicopter had landed and aquired an apartment complex near the beach as there HQ for the time being. They had established radio communications on the island and had heard the two transmissions.

Radio operator Alfonso Martinez kept his eyes on the piece of paper given to him by Lt. Hernandez Provoc to send back to the first transmission. It said,

"We do not know what exactly the enemy is but from we have seen it has caused almost all life on this island to simply dissapear."

With that the radio operator replied back the the newer transmision that had been heard eariler.

"We will try to send to send someone but currently we are having problems contacting our ship. It has recieve some slight damage to its communication devices on our way to your fine nation."

After saying that Alfonso left his post as his shift was over. As the other man came for his 6 hour shift Alfonso stepped outside.

The trash that had littered the streets had been cleared out and a perimeter had been established around the three story apartment building. If they had the supplies they would of made a fence but instead they had to improvise by using benches and what cars could still be moved into position to make a make shift fence if you could call it that. The dead had all been put into a pile in another building that was a diner by the looks of it.

Meanwhile Lt. Provoc with his handy Galil ARM opened a bottle of cold soda had found after snooping around in one of the many refigerators found in the apartment with the weapons handy bottle opener.

(All things calm on my side for now)