They didn’t like it, but they held.
More seconds passed, and more figures appeared from the smoke and dust, and the lead group nudged at the body on the ground, rolling him over. The man ripped open the soldier’s BDU jacket, opening the carbon fibre reinforced light armor and then yanked the tags from around his neck.
Pierson winced as the man’s head jerked up, then fell back and bounced off the asphalt. Not knowing if the man was alive or dead, he didn’t move his hand, refusing to give the order.
So they continued to hold.
More shapes appeared through the dust and smoke, moving slowly as they swept up the street, their weapons becoming visible in their hands. Pierson ran a quick count and came up with just under a dozen, and did a mental wager with himself as he held his order.
A moment later he won that bet, and one more man appeared from the smoke to start giving orders to the rest.
Pierson snapped his fingers into a balled fist and dropped it down in a sharp motion.
And they no longer held.
The snarl of the 6.58mm XM-90’s tore through the air, rending it in an instant of horrible sound, the bullets reaching out from the camped soldiers and cutting down their targets without mercy. The entire `battle’ lasted only seconds, the dozen armed men in their sights falling like wheat before the thresher.
After it was over, the roar of the rifles’ fire still echoing in their ears, the men turned to look at the Colonel.
“Now,” He said grimly, “We go look for survivors.”
The Tower City Fire Department had several trucks, located in two separate station houses on opposite sides of the city ring, to the East and to the West of the tower. East Precinct House received the call to duty shortly after the impromptu fireworks in the western sky had those on duty scratching their heads in puzzlement.
None of them had any word of fireworks scheduled for the day, but of course there was the pre-anniversary party in the Tower Greenhouse that might have something to do with it. Certainly, no one had informed them about that either.
When the alarm bell sounded, though, it was all business.
The men of the East Precinct House made it into their suits and onto their trucks in record time, some of them having to chase the trucks out of the station when they paused to grab for their helmets, but they clambered aboard quickly and then they were off.
The trucks held their sirens, not needing them in the little to no traffic of the city’s main thoroughfare, and so flew along almost silently on their electric motors. The call was in the west precinct’s district, but they all knew that if it had come through to them, then there was enough trouble to go around.
The last time they’d had a call big enough to bring everyone out was over two years earlier, and many of them were still making their reputations on stories of the freak lightning storm that had hit that day. Today was clear though, so the Precinct Captain couldn’t figure out what could possibly have happened to call out both station houses at once.
He got his first taste as the engine slid around the gently curving streets, black smoke curling to the skies ahead of them, and he grabbed for his radio to make a call.
“Truck One this is Tanker One, can you see that fire yet”
He waited a moment, but nothing but static came back over the radio. He frowned, thumbing the send button again.
“Truck One, come in.”
Nothing.
The truck he was trying to call was just up ahead of him, he could see it coming into view again as it slowed. It’s lights were going and the driver of the tanker began to slow as well as the source of the smoke came into view.
“Bloody hell.”
“Holy Mary, Mother of God.” The Captain whispered in shock, just staring at the helicopter tail rotor that was sticking out of a building ahead of him as the tanker slid to a stop just behind the lead truck.
He knew he’d frozen for a moment when he finally came out of it, but not for how long, and nor did he have time to worry about it. He jumped out of the truck, waving to the other men as they started pulling the hoses down.
“Get the chemicals primed! We’ve got a fuel fire here! Use those hoses to control its spread! Move it damn it, or we’ll lose the block!”
“Jesus, Cap! What happened here!”
“How the hell should I know what happened, Joey!” He growled, grabbing the slack jawed man’s shoulder and spinning him around. “Worry about how we get it under control! Move it!”
Joey moved.
The Captain took a moment to survey the blaze while his men moved around him, unrolling hoses and pulling out the tanks of inert chemicals that would form the basis of the firefighting compounds they would probably have to use to put out the searing flames, and just stared at the chunk of fuselage he could see.
There were military markings, he could see the Australian Armed Forces insignia on the tail, so he immediately began to worry about whether it was loaded with munitions or not.
“Survivors!” He yelled quickly.
“What!” Someone stopped, turning to stare at him.
“Suits! We’ve got to see if there are any survivors! Fast!” He gave his order, then followed it up by reaching back into the truck and grabbing his heavy fire jacket and the air rig that went with it. “Carl, come over here and check my fittings!”
Carl ran over as he shrugged into the air rig, then pulled his encapsulated helmet on while Carl started sealing the gaskets on his jacket. A few seconds later the rig’s hose connected to the back of his helmet, and air was flowing.
“I’m good to go!” He said over his helmet radio, trying to move off, only to find Carl hold him back. “Hey! I’m good to go!”
Carl looked at him in confusion, this time seeing his mouth move but hearing nothing.
“Bloody hell!” He snarled, breaking the seal and yanking his helmet off. “The radio’s busted! Get me a spare!”
Another helmet was located in seconds, while others suited up around him, but it soon became obvious that the problem they had was a little deeper than they’d thought.
“Fuck me!” Someone yelled, “None of the radios work, Cap!”
The Captain swore, shaking his head and thinking fast. Something was seriously screwed up here, but he just didn’t have time to worry about it.
“We go in any way!” He ordered finally, grabbing his own helmet back and yanking it halfway down his head, “Everyone stay close! We’ll chain our way in, no one goes out of sight of the guy behind him! Got it!”
They nodded, and he yanked his helmet down the rest of the way and went through the procedure of sealing the gaskets again and checking the airflow.
This time he gave Carl a thumbs up, and the other man nodded once and thumped him on the helmet. He could read the words `good luck’ on Carl’s lips as the man let him go, then ran back to man the hoses.
This was going to be an ugly one, he could feel it in his bones.
He shrugged the feeling off, though, and waved to the others who were suited up as he started forward.
Not knowing what was inside the burning chopper, unable to talk to each other, they followed him anyway as he charged up to the building. At its base, they took one more look up at the tail of the chopper above them, then pushed forward into the smoke and heat.
Forward into hell, and damn the fires.
“Damn it!” Gwendolen Dougal cursed, reaching out and thumping the dash of the Eliica as she kept the pedal to the floor, causing the car to shimmy down the center of the street in response t her lack of attention.