Second Chance War Chapter 54: What Can Go Wrong

Thomas and the rest of his squad surveyed the aftermath of their fight over the communications compound. There was thick smoke pouring out of the broken wall of the second floor of the communications building. Fragments of concrete littered the ground and the smell of charred flesh a.s.sailed the nostrils of the squad. It was a sickly sweet smell, it was meat charred beyond recognition, but knowing that it was human meat...that made it all the more sickening. Marlon, Higgins, and Smith rallied around Thomas awaiting further instructions.

"All right men, you know as well as I do that the stealth portion of this operation is FUBAR." Thomas said. "We will proceed to the next objective with haste. That flare came from the airfield, so something must have gone wrong with the squad there. Weapons free, if it moves and it doesn't identify, shoot it. Move out!"

Thomas motioned for them to move out with his hand pointed straight like an arrow, all five fingers aligned. They quietly gathered their packs from where they left them and took up formation. Since stealth was no longer an option Marlon took the lead with his shoulder slung Browning Fifty Caliber Machine Gun. For others it might be an impossibility to carry such a heavy weapon, let alone fire it, but for the six-foot-three black man who was all muscle? It was not a problem at all. The only other person capable of firing it from the hip was Thomas.

After Marlon it was Higgins, then Thomas, and finally, Smith who took up the rear. This was the most optimal formation unless they were clearing a building, then Smith would be lead. Being the shortest man among the bunch, Smith was less likely to be hit inside a building due to his small stature. They quickly made their way through the jungle in the dark. The dense foliage did little to impede their quick progress borne of haste. Soon they reached the edge of the jungle and the meeting point for their squad, Bravo, and Charlie. It soon became apparent that the airfield wasn't going to be taken any time soon.

In front of them lay what remained of Bravo and Charlie squads. There was blood everywhere. It was pooling beneath the fresh bodies, dripping from the tree branches, and marking the foliage. It looks like they were torn to shreds by gunfire, but whose?

"Sir, take a look at this," Higgins called over to Thomas. "I found something, might interest you."

Thomas made his way over to Higgins, careful not to step on their dead, they deserved a burial when they were done with this island. As soon as Thomas reached Higgins, his skin started crawling and he clenched his fists.

"Wasn't it only supposed to be our team on this island?" Thomas stared down at the corpse of a British Commando still holding a Sten Mark One Sub-Machine Gun. In his other hand he was holding a standard flare signal gun. "Looks like our people managed to kill at least one, but they were still taken by surprise. We can also guess where that flare came from."

"So then it wasn't our people that managed to blow this operation then?" Higgins asked.

"No, Corporal, it was not." Thomas answered. Then he signaled for the squad to gather around. "Alright listen up, we are not alone on this island. It seems there is heavy British Commando presence. Higgins, high-tail it back to the beach and relay this to command. Marlon, Smith, we're going to forge on ahead to the airfield, our main goal is to keep the aircraft from getting damaged while taking control. The j.a.panese forces will be on high alert, especially after our stunt at the compound. Delta and Echo should have started their a.s.sault on the main tower by now. If all goes well we should be in for some good chow and rest. Form up, Higgins you're dismissed."

"Sir!" Higgins saluted and then melted into the jungle like a ghost. Thomas and his squad got back into the same formation as before but this time Higgins wasn't present. Alerted to the presence of commandos on the island, they were forced to be careful and quiet. Every so often Marlon would signal them to stop, they would all drop to one knee, rifles out, and scan the surrounding environment.

It took the squad an hour and a half to get from the compound to the airport, that was including the quick ten minute stop at the rendezvous point. The closer to the airport they got, the louder the sounds of gunfire became. As the approached a small cliff overlooking the airport they could see the j.a.panese barricaded on the first and second floor of the largest building in the airfield. They were dug in behind sandbags and exchanging fire with what seems to be a British commando squad. Albeit there were three members, that one dead guy must have been their forth.

The strangest thing that Thomas noted was that although the squad was out in the open, bullets didn't really affect them much. They were getting hit, but they weren't going down. On closer inspection, on of the commando's arm was just hanging limply at his side, dripping blood in rivers. Another one was dragging one of their legs behind them.

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"They can't feel pain," Thomas muttered under his breath. "Smith, a.s.semble the Springfield!"

After hearing the order, Smith opened his pack and took out various gun parts. He a.s.sembled them expertly and within a minute a fully a.s.sembled Springfield Sniper Rifle was handed off to Thomas. Thomas loaded the rifle one bullet at a time into the chamber until he loaded five bullets, adjusting the scope for distance. He took careful aim at the commando who seemed to be the leader. The shot was lined up, he held his breath, and then he squeezed the trigger.