RM Vol 4: War – Chapter 49: Case Yellow (Day 13 – When the Eruseans meet an Unstoppable Force)

    Johny ''Soap'' Mactavish doesn''t consider himself a religious man. He does admit that greater powers are at work, such as what''s with the Belkan and their ridiculous rise to prominence, but he does not stick himself to religion. It''s not because Soap dislikes going to church, no. He can''t imagine himself praying with how brash and hothead he is, always more willing to stick to his guns than with words and prayers. Nevertheless, with how his life career has pushed him down a hopeless path these days, Soap is starting to question his life choices.

    "God is real, huh?!" Soap asks sarcastically amidst a hail of bullets going over his head and hitting the machine gun position on the upper floor. The man is crouching behind a thick pillar on the lower floor, unwilling to poke out due to the Belkans'' suppressive fire. "Is this payback for all the time I was a heathen, good sir!?"

    When the Belkans'' suppressive fire ceases, Soap peaks out of the pillar while bracing his Lee-Endfield against it. From his position, Soap can look through a set of broken windows and bullet-ridden curtains to see an advancing formation of Belkan soldiers.

    "I got exploded! I crawled through literal shit!" Soap aligns the gun sight on one of the Belkan soldiers providing covering fire for his fellows. "I thought I could ride home and rest but fuck me sideways, eh!?"

    Pulling the trigger, Soap sends a bullet that strikes true in the middle of the Belkan machine gunner''s vest, sending the female soldier crashing backward. Yet, as if laughing at Soap well-placed shot, the Belkan casualty is clearly still alive with how she''s still moving by that center-mass shot and no blood. She is swiftly pulled back into cover by her ally while Soap''s position is immediately beset with righteous Belkan indignation. Going prone and rolling away from the barrage of bullets just in time, Soap curses.

    "Oh, come the bloody fuck on! What are these wankers made out of!"

    That was the third accurate shot that Soap took with his rifle. Yet, much like the prior two shots, the Belkan recipients survived and were quick to be rescued by their teammates. Since there was little to no blood coming out of their supposed wounds, they were probably still alive and kicking Erusean butts.

    It isn''t just Soap who notices and complains about how these Belkan soldiers are so hard to kill. Others in his ragtag group of infantries, survivors in actuality as their commanding officers are either KIA or MIA, have noticed how there are much too few Belkan corpses in the city. Everywhere, Eruseans and Ustian Loyalists are bleeding out in the streets and buildings while one can barely see a few of the Belkans lying about. This causes a not insignificant number of them to start thinking that perhaps the Belkans are unkillable as the damage speaks for itself. It would seem that to inflict one Belkan casualty, they must exchange it for ten or even twenty of their own. This is a thought that has Soap questioning whether or not this is all worth it. Erusea coming to mainland Europe has been the single most stupid decision the entire country has ever undertaken. And if Soap can survive this miraculously, then by the Heaven above he will convert into a bloody religion, somewhere... Anywhere but Dunkirk is preferable if that is even possible. Anyway, that''s a thing for future Soap to worry about, if there''s even a future left for him.

    Crawling himself to a set of stairs that is out of sight for the Belkan and is somewhat protected by a thick outer wall of the building they''re in, Soap allows himself to crouch and ascend the stairs. Reaching the top floor of the building, which is also the place where the MG team is stationed, Soap shouts into one of the rooms facing an intersection.

    "Oi! You doofus still alive in there!?"

    "Barely!" Comes a Private who suddenly finds himself being the Chief Gunner for their Vicker Medium Machine Gun when the last one dies. "We''re still in somewhat whole blocks of meat so I''ll take that as a bloody blessing, mate!"

    Soap peaks in, being very careful not to expose his body to the Belkan''s line of fire. Inside the room, Soap sees that the walls are made into a beehive, with dim lights shining through holes and illuminating the polluting particles in the air. Hiding behind a pile of rubbles that used to form what was the building''s roof, the machine gun team is too scared to poke their heads out in fear of being sniped.

    "Blood Hell, lads," Soap comments dryly, looking at the three men team that looks so done with life. "you all look like beaten shits."

    One of them deadpans while reaffixing the bandage on his left arm. "You think?"

    Ultimately, Soap looks at the soldier that ran into to report the morale plummeting news. As their losses have mounted up to an unbearable level, Soap thinks that it''s high time they pull out.

    "Kimble, right? Do we still have a bullet for that Boys rifle?"

    The soldier, Kimble, nods. "We still have enough for two magazines, Ssir."

    "I will only need one." Soap grunts while standing up with the help of the medic. "Pass the words that we will pull out using the back alley''s sewage system. Have that Ustian in the back leads us to General Franklyn''s position. There, we will determine whether or not to put down our arms. Three lives are already too many for all of us right now."

    "Yes, Sir. What about you?"

    Soap cracks his knuckles. "As for me... Take me to the Boys."

    "Right this way, Sir." Kimble proceeds to lead Soap out of the medical room while others start packing up.

    Ultimately, they arrive in a guest room of sorts with a Corporal trying to reload a Boys anti-tank rifle with an injured and bleeding hand. Waving the injured Corporal away for treatment and evacuation, Soap takes charge of the Boys rifle and adeptly loads and chambers a .55 caliber round. After that, Soap brings the Boys out of the guest room and positions it inside a hallway where Erusean soldiers are swiftly making their runs to the back. The AT rifle is lowered down onto the ground on its built-in support and peering through a small hole in the wall that has a view of the Belkan-infested road.

    Kimble gulps, crouching by Soap''s side in case the man needs help. "You sure this is wise, Sir?"

    Soap dryly answers while lining up the ironsight. "If even a 2-pounder couldn''t scratch the paint job of those tanks, then what chance does this rifle even have, lad? No. What the Boys is only good for buying time by getting a mobility kill."

    Getting a good sight picture, Soap calms his breathing. "We need time to evacuate. If I don''t stop those tanks here, we will be fishes in the barrel unless we somehow get the white flag flying before they blast us apart. And I don''t fancy being blown to experience what Hardy must have felt up there..."

    And with that, Soap squeezes the trigger. The Boys booms and the shockwave of the .55 caliber projectile propelling itself batter Soap and Kimble painfully. Yet, thanks to an expert aim and at a close distance, the heavy projectile tears through the air and bites deep into the right set of tracks of the leading Belkan tank. The kinetic force proves to be enough to tear apart the track and bite into the drive sprocket of the vehicle, thus disabling the mobility of the tank as it veers to the right side and nearly crashes into a lamp post. Ultimately, the whole Belkan formation halts in alarm turns their weapon back at their building, and fires in retaliation. Out of view for Soap, Belkan soldiers are also flanking their holdout and steadily closing in on them to initiate close combat.

    Soap earned his wish to stop the tank. Now if only he could get out of this mess, preferably alive.