3. Invasion

Well, shit. Talk about a trip down memory lane. Over the past couple days, I got messages from names I hardly remembered. So many of you wound up enlisting, that shit makes me proud. It's good to see people still have faith and confidence in the oath.

Christ, I feel like I'm 22 again. The positive energy I've been receiving and the fact I've been able to give you guys what you wanted is awesome, it really is. Anyways I won't blabber on much longer, but there's something I've been meaning to ask.

Do you all want me to keep the old version up? If so should I rename it or give some sort of warning in the title that the rewrite is started? Seriously I have no problem taking it down, but if you people want it up as a sort of reference for how much shit has changed I'm okay with that too.

Invasion

"Lying offshore, ready to act, the presence of ships and Marines sometimes means much more than just having airpower or ship's fire, when it comes to deterring a crisis. And the ships and Marines may not have to do anything but lie offshore. It is hard to lie offshore with a C-141 or C-130 full of airborne troops."

Gen. Colin Powell, U.S. Army Chairman Joint Chiefs of Staff During Operation Desert Storm.

2300 HOURS WASHINGTON DC, WHITE HOUSE, SITUATIONS ROOM

"Mister Prime Minister look, you need to calm down-No I understand very well and I assure you we will commit all available forces to assist. No, neither the Chinese nor the Russians are taking responsibility for this- no it's not any of the known Islamic Extremist cells."

The President of the United States, Richard Dirrel, ran a hand over his slicked-back blonde hair and watched in stunned silence as the situation in Japan continued to play out across various monitors. Next to him the Secretary of Defense, Ronald Higgins, watched the monitors from behind large spectacles. An old Warhawk from the Cold War era and a veteran of 40 years with the Army. He had prepped and theorized for countless scenarios both at home and abroad. The current situation in Japan wasn't any different and the elderly black official was already drafting war plans in his mind.

Across from both officials and at either end of a long wooden table sat the Joint Chiefs of Staff with the commander of U.S. Forces Japan, Lt. General Kirk, joining them via video call. Each officer sifted through mounting paperwork and answered phone calls in hushed voices as they waited for the President's phone call to end. Many of them had been taking care of family matters when the call came in and none of them could believe what they had heard.

"No, I can see it clear as day Motoi, and yes I assure you we'll commit everything we have." The President sighed and tried to avert his gaze from the scenes of carnage on one of the nearest monitors. "Look, you need to listen to me. Hang up and coordinate with your people, I've already arranged a meeting with the Joint Chiefs-yes, yes they're here now. Let me handle things on my end and I'll keep you up to date as the situation develops."

Dirrel waited for the panicked chatter to stop before nodding. "Alright, godspeed Prime Minister and be careful."

The President hung up the phone and rubbed his tired eyes. "Can someone, anyone, please explain to me why we have a hostile military force in the center of goddamn Japan!?"

The military officers remained silent; they knew the Commander in Chief had more to say. He always got like this whenever situations ran afoul. It was this same fire that won him the recent elections and it would likely be the same fire that would help sway future public opinion.

Dirrel crossed his hands and let them rest atop the table. "We have the 7th fleet engaging in patrols and round the clock surveillance flights overseeing the South China Sea. Yet somehow, this hostile force just poofs right under our noses and is currently running unchecked. Someone explain this to me because I haven't the faintest clue in the world how this cock-up could happen."

"Sir, that's just it." The Commandant of the Marines adjusted his service uniform's collar nervously. General Crozier, a man of 40 years of hard service to his country. A real bulldog of a Marine that always had an answer to any military threat. Seeing him look so unsure unnerved both the President and the others. "At about 1100 hours Pacific Standard Time the enemy did just that, they showed up out of nowhere in the Ginza District and just started attacking."

"So, you mean to tell me they just materialized into the center of Japan? Like a magician waving his magic wand?" Dirrel shook his head. "You expect me to believe this?"

"Sir, General Crozier is right." General Kirk flipped through some of his own papers while Higgins used a remote to change the screen of one of the monitors. The scene of violence was quickly replaced with shaky footage taken prior from the POV of someone's cellphone. Kirk gestured to the strange structure in the center of the crowded Ginza street just as the army poured out from within the blackness.

"We believe that the enemy utilized some sort of, well-"

"Go on, just say it." Dirrel stared at the structure as the footage repeated itself over and over, his disbelief slowly turning into horror as the implications of what had happened began to sink in. "It's a teleporter, the enemy teleported right behind the Japanese and our own defensive lines."

"Yes sir, they seem to have done the impossible." Kirk bit his bottom lip. "Right now they number in the thousands possibly more."

Higgins leaned forward and concentrated his gaze on Kirk. "So who are they, what do they want, and more importantly who do we have on hand to contain this mess?"

"Currently, unknown. I'm hearing a lot of different things from the ground level and I'm hesitant to confirm any of it just yet." Kirk responded from beyond the central screen. "We're mobilizing a joint strike force with the Japanese, but it looks like their first response units got caught with their pants down same as us. It's a first come first serve basis. Anyone that can muster is currently doing so."

"And how long until this task force is mobilized and who do we have already moving in?" Higgins raised an eyebrow.

"Not much longer sir, two F15s from Yokota have already disengaged from their patrol and are currently doing their best to blunt hostile air, but it's a bucket of water against an ocean-"

"They have air? Already?" The Airforce General rapidly shook his head incredulously. "Nobody has that sort of rapid deployment capability."

"Not in our world, no. That changes things, wouldn't you think?" Dirrel retorted with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"Yes, yes it would sir."

"What about the fleet? The Reagan and her escorts can't be that far out." The Navy admiral chimed in. "Kirk where's she at?"

"She's being diverted from her patrol but I can't say for sure how long it'll be before she can contribute. The last thing we want to do is crowd the skies too." Kirk responded matter of factly. "Both ourselves and the Japanese do have some destroyers offshore though. The ports are still secure."

Dirrel returned his attention to Kirk. "General, so what's the plan thus far? When you say it's first come first serve, who exactly is mustering right now?"

"Sir, Elements of the Japanese Central Army are already moving combined arms brigades into the city." Kirk answered back confidently. "Iwakuni air station is scrambling F35s to assist the Air Defense Force, but they've been regulated to a purely air superiority role. We can't risk ground strikes in the city even with the PGMs*."

Crozier raised an eyebrow. "So what the hell do we do about close air?"

"That's on the Japanese and their rotor units. I can tell you I don't feel confident sending Apaches and Vipers loaded for bare over the city, but the situation is rapidly deteriorating. Collateral is looking less and less like an avoidable scenario." Kirk responded solemnly.

"Evidently the Japanese think the same if they're sending goddamn tanks and gunships in." The Army General chimed in. "What's the situation with our embassy? Do we have any support on hand to assist?"

"We were able to grab a team of Green Berets from a live training exercise. They're en route to the embassy and should be assisting the Marine Security Detachment momentarily." Kirk looked over at Dirrel. "Mister President, I have it on good word from Ambassador Kroger himself that all of the on-site personnel are safe and accounted for. The Marines are holding as best as they can, but they don't know for how much longer."

"You get in there and help my Marines Kirk." Crozier clenched his fists atop the table. "You hear me? You get my Marines the help they need and I assure you I'll tear apart heaven and hell itself to get you whatever you need for what's to come."

"I'll hold you to that James, you know I will." Kirk responded back assuredly. "I have a feeling we're going to need a lot more of your boys too.

"Let's not get passionate gentlemen." Higgins put a hand up to calm Crozier's rising anger. "First we focus on containment and suppression. Answers after."

Dirrel nodded in agreement. "Gentlemen these are unprecedented times, but we have a job to do. I expect all of you to commit to the same standard of excellence the United States Military is known for." The President watched the screens intently. "I have a feeling nothing is ever going to be the same after this and lord knows what the hell I'm going to tell the press. In the meantime, you get whatever you need on station General Kirk. Do you hear me? I want this thing squashed, now."

"Yes sir." Kirk got up from his desk and gave a crisp salute before the central monitor turned off.

Dirrel sighed and shook his head. "Someone get me some goddamn coffee."

0100 HOURS EPICENTER, GINZA, TOKYO JAPAN

Itami breathed heavily as he pushed through the terrified crowds and bloody-cramped streets. This wasn't fair, any of it. One minute he was looking at doujins and the next he was running for his life as his home came under attack.

His favorite restaurants, stores, neither them nor his people were safe from the indiscriminate destruction the invaders brought with them. What made matters worse was that Itami could recognize the enemy. He knew what he saw; wyverns picking people up from the ground, ogres smashing aside cars while hordes of chittering goblins surrounded them and overran innocent people. Itami had even seen knights, actual knights on horses, skewering people with their lances as they chanted war hymns in a language he couldn't understand.

All of his fantasy favorites had come into his world and for the first time, he didn't want to have anything to do with them.

Itami subconsciously ducked his head as he heard the telltale screech of F15s overhead. He wasn't sure if they were Americans or the Self Defense Force and he really didn't care. All he could think about was saving his own skin and the inevitable deployment that was probably coming next.

"T-tuskiete!"

A cry of terror followed by several gunshots caught Itami's attention and the lieutenant stopped as he stopped to find the source of the noise amidst the panicked crowds. Across from Itami, a lone police officer was all that stood between a family and a now charging swordsman coming at them from down an alley. The officer had emptied his revolver in a panic and although he had scored a few good hits the caliber just wasn't enough to put down someone hopped up on adrenaline. The swordsman was quickly closing the gap and Itami knew the officer wasn't going to stand a chance in melee.

At that moment, that brief infinitesimal second, something was awoken inside Itami. A sense of duty? Maybe just a chance for revenge? Training? Whatever the feeling was it fueled what happened next. In seconds Itami had closed the gap, put the swordsman in a headlock, and used the man's own blade to slit his throat. A warm sensation trickled down Itami's arms and stained them as blood gushed from the man's wound.

The lieutenant didn't even realize he had just killed his first human being until the haze wore off and the police officer was thanking him, asking what his name was. Itami blinked several times and dropped both the swordsman and the blade he had killed him with.

"I-I'm." Itami breathed rapidly for a few moments and then shook his head as the adrenaline began to wear off. "You need to get out of here, everyone is making a break for the old Imperial Palace. The walls are sturdy and should provide enough protection."

The officer nodded and gestured for the family to get up. Family and officer now in tow, Itami led the citizens back towards the palace.

U.S. EMBASSY

"Everybody out!"

A Blackhawk helicopter hovered over the besieged American Embassy as U.S. Army Green Berets and their supplies rappelled onto the roof. Outside of the Embassy walls, a horde of creatures and their handlers made a cacophony of noise as they tried to get inside the foreign compound. Occasionally a stray arrow or rock would fly up and harmlessly bounce off the side of the helicopter only to be met in kind with a sweeping arch of roaring minigun fire from one of the helicopter's door gunners. The culprits were turned into red mist and bloody chunks as the 7.62mm rounds tore through them like a hot knife through butter. The helicopter might have stayed on station longer were it not for the winged creatures flying around. Nobody was risking a mission-critical asset especially not with other units in need of assistance.

Captain James Recker had seen a lot of things during his time with Special Forces. Child soldiers, men, and women killed in gruesome ways. To say he was desensitized to the worst the world had to offer was a colossal understatement. The man simply didn't care anymore, all that mattered was the mission and his men.

However, nothing could prepare him or his team for what would transpire that day. One minute they were up north conducting live-fire exercises and the next a Blackhawk came flying in loaded to the brim with ammo cans.

"We need to get to the Embassy, Japan is under attack." Was all the pilots told Recker and his team before they piled the confused operators in and whisked them off into the city.

Now here he was in the middle of Japan atop the Embassy shooting at what looked to be medieval invaders. It was something out of science fiction and no place for him or his men to be.

As the last operator landed on the roof Recker signaled to the Blackhawk and the transport helicopter banked off, but not before conducting one last gun run on the enemy beyond. Their support gone, all the soldiers could do was hunker down and hope for the best. Whenever that was.

Recker brought his helmet-mounted boom mic up to his lips. "Five, Six, I want those machine guns talking now! The rest of you divvy up ammo and help out as you can. Two, you're with me, lets go!"

Like a well-oiled machine, the Berets quickly carried out their orders. Their team sergeant, Master Sergeant Wong, following in behind Recker as the operator approached one of the half geared up Marines.

"Who's in charge here? What's the situation?!" Recker yelled over the sounds of gunfire. The Marine, a young freckled faced corporal, recognized the operator's rank and would've gone ramrod straight were it not for the fact there was a battle going on.

"Gunnery Sergeant Stacker, he's down below!" The Marine answered back as he shouldered his M4 and gestured inside. "C'mon I'll show you to him!"

Recker and Wong nodded before following the corporal into a small external staircase and into the building. The three soldiers hurried down several flights of stairs before reaching a heavy door and pushing into a crowded hallway. State Department personnel and contractors panicked as they tried to make phone calls to their loved ones. Televisions in offices played different news reports as everyone tried to make sense of what was going on.

The three soldiers were given a wide berth and more than one worker dropped to their knees and thanked Recker for being there, asking if the military had finally arrived to help. These questions ultimately went unanswered, Recker wasn't in the business of giving half-truths.

Eventually, the soldiers arrived at the ambassador's office and pushed into the lavish room turned makeshift operations center. At the center of the room, a burly Marine in full gear groaned as a Navy Corpsman fussed with a nasty puncture wound on his leg. Next to the table, an elderly white male nervously paced back and forth as he continued to make calls to anyone that would hear his pleas.

"Gunny, we got reinforcements." The corporal gestured to Recker and Wong before getting out of their way.

"Well, shit. When I asked for reinforcements I didn't think they'd send the Army-ach! For god's sake Cortez could you please watch what you're fucking doing?" The marine winced as the first set of stitches were sewn into his wound.

"Doing my best here gunny you're the one who didn't want any painkillers."

"Yeah, yeah I did say that didn't I?" The marine responded back half-heartedly as he looked at Recker's unit patches. "So, who do I have the pleasure of thanking for the rescue?"

Recker unfastened his FAST* helmet and let his M4 hang to the side. "Captain Recker, Green Berets, this is my Team Sergeant Master Sergeant Wong. What's the situation, Gunnery Sergeant?"

"Shit, Special Forces. Guess we're saved after all." The Marine responded back enthusiastically. "Gunnery Sergeant Stacker and the situation is well and truly fucked."

"So we've seen. Do you even have the faintest idea who or what we're dealing with?" Wong glanced at a nearby window. He had seen some of the flying creatures earlier and he was half expecting one of them to come crashing through at any minute. "Mysterious calls, anything?"

"No, one minute it was business as usual and the next I look outside and see a tidal wave of civilians running past the embassy." Stacker hung his head. "By the time I put the detachment on alert and started locking things down, they showed up."

"They?" Recker raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, our 'guests' outside the front gate."

"So they just popped in out of nowhere?" Wong undid his own helmet and clipped it to the side of his plate carrier vest. "You're kidding me."

"I wish I was." Stacker pointed at his leg. "Fuckers are using goddamn cavalry, honest to god guys on horseback. Clipped me pretty good when we were retrograding back into the compound, but I paid that asshole back with interest. So far, the only reason the bad guys haven't gotten in yet is because they have the technological backing of cavemen."

"So we've seen, and then some. Course, that still doesn't explain how they popped in so suddenly." Recker glanced at his watch and then back at Stacker. "What's the status of all the classified information and embassy personnel?"

"All accounted for, I have one of my men standing watch. He has orders to shred the documents if those bastards breach the building." Stacker coughed. "Didn't see a reason to preemptively destroy it all."

"And why not?" Wong responded apprehensively.

Stacker looked at the Team Sergeant incredulously. "Have you seen what's going on? Seriously? The only reason these assholes have gotten anywhere is because of the delayed response." Stacker pointed outside with an accusatory finger. "The moment we get our shit straightened out all of this ends. They don't have any fast air, no armored support, no AA. These morons have no idea the shitstorm they just stirred up!"

"Shitstorm or not, we don't have anything in place." Recker shook his head. "So unless you have some Vipers or M1 tanks to rapidly deploy from ship to shore we'll have to make do with what little we have."

Wong bit his bottom lip. "Little? This is worse than the Alamo with under half the men and arms."

"I apologize if my underequipped detachment in an allied nation isn't up to snuff Master Sergeant. We aren't exactly prepared to fend off an invasion at a moment's notice." Stacker replied back sarcastically ignoring his wound as the Corpsmen continued to sow away.

Recker put a hand up signaling for his subordinate to loosen his tone. "I've seen marines do more with plenty less Gunnery Sergeant. Support should be here soon."

"That may be sooner than we think Captain Recker." The ambassador turned his phone off and extended a hand. "Ambassador Kroger, I apologize for my lack of decorum, but I just got off the phone with Washington. They've just informed me that our forces, as well as the Japanese, have just begun their offensive."

Recker gave the elderly official's hand a firm shake in return. "It's fine sir, now's not the time for decorum. How much time do we have?"

"Minutes? An hour? T-they didn't say."

"Well, no sense staying here and jaw jammering." Recker redonned and fastened his helmet's chin strap before checking his gear. "Mister Ambassador I need you to stay in here and continue to coordinate with whoever you gotta coordinate with. Keep the people calm and let them know help's on the way-"

"Uh, One be advised. They just brought a battering ram."

A voice in Recker's earpiece cut the officer off as Wong answered back, adjusting his own helmet's boom mic. "This is Two, repeat your last."

"A battering ram!" The voice responded again.

Both of the operators looked at each other then back at the Det Commander and Ambassador. "Say again? A battering ram?!"

"Yes, a goddamn battery ram! How many times do I have to say it-"

A loud clang echoed outside causing the windows to shake and embassy personnel to panic further.

"Goddamnit, Wong let's go!" Not wasting any time, Recker checked his magazines and kit before dashing out of the office and past the confused Marine Corporal, Wong hot on his heels.

Stacker gingerly ran a gloved finger over his freshly stitched wound and bit back the stinging pain. "Corporal, Cortez. Get me up."

"Gunny?" The corporal raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's a good idea-"

"I said get me up, this is my goddamn post and I'm not gonna sit here while there's a fight to be fought." Stacker redonned his helmet and grabbed his Remington 870 that had been propped against the desk. "So get your ass over here and get me back into the fight!"

"Roger that gunny. C'mon doc, you heard him." The corporal slung his M4 and made his way over to the desk. With the corpsmen's assistance, Stacker was hoisted up and onto his feet, his arms draped over both his subordinates' shoulders.

"We'll get this sorted in a moment Mister Ambassador. Be right back."

"Of course Gunnery Sergeant, godspeed and good luck." Kroger responded nervously before taking his cell phone out and dialing another series of numbers.

IMPERIAL PALACE

After what felt like an eternity of fighting and just trying to survive, Itami and the civilians finally made it to the Imperial Palace. The ancient structure was like a beacon of hope, its thick walls, and ancient architecture still ready to serve after years of being dormant. In front of it, the Sakurada gate stood proud, its wooden doors locked shut.

"Everyone follow me let's go!"

A blood-stained and battle-weary Itami waved back as he led the terrified group of civilians to the doors of the palace. Next to the doors two police officers stood inside a security booth and watched in stunned silence as Itami ran up to them.

"You two, get the doors open. They'll be here any minute!" Itami pointed back towards the inner city and chaos beyond. "The walls and doors should hold until our army arrives!"

One of the officers, a younger man probably no older than 21, looked at Itami and then back at the snub-nosed revolver in Itami's hand. The weapon was empty.

"Sir? Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who-" Itami shook his head and tried to clear the haze from his mind. His adrenaline hadn't stopped pumping all afternoon nor had the grip on his newly acquired firearm slackened. Itami's voice came out slow and ragged as he began to calm down. "-Second Lieutenant Youji Itami, JSDF."

Itami reached into his back pocket and produced a shoddy looking brown wallet, passing it over to the officers. "You need to get this gate open. If you don't, more people are going to die."

The officers looked at the ID card inside the wallet then back at Itami, the older of the two simply nodding before reaching for a radio on his vest.

"Open the gates! We have civilians that need to be let inside!"

In moments, the ancient wooden doors slowly creaked open revealing a well-maintained courtyard in front of the palace building. The civilians wasted no time pouring into the courtyard and past the officers inside like an avalanche.

As this happened a nearby phone in the guard booth rang, the older officer quickly picking it up and nodding several times as he mumbled something. Once the conversation was over the officer returned the phone and drew his revolver.

"That was headquarters. Special Police forces are on the way, they should be here any second now."

"And what about the military?!" Itami responded brusquely.

"They've begun their attack." The older officer nodded. "And the Americans are assisting them."

"The Americans…" Itami's voice trailed off as the implication hit him like a freight train. The Americans would only deploy if things had truly spiraled out of control. Just how bad was the situation?

"They're here! Reinforcements have arrived!"

The younger officer's voice snapped Itami out of his trance and diverted his attention beyond the palace. Sure enough, as the last of the civilians got inside the safety of the courtyard, a convoy of heavy-duty police buses drove up to the palace gate and formed a defensive line.

Police poured out of the buses armed to the teeth with riot and tactical gear, their orders very clear that this was no mere disturbance in the city. The police quickly set up a shield wall, smoke grenade launchers, and submachine guns jutting out from behind like porcupine quills.

It was impressive, but Itami knew it wouldn't be enough. They needed more firepower, a lot of it. Once the police set in, the doors to the palace slowly creaked shut, locking Itami and the police outside. This was it, their final stand.

Itami gulped as an unsettling silence fell over the area, like a calm before the storm. This was how it had been right before the killing had started. Then, suddenly, another warhorn echoed from within the city beyond.

One of the riot officers flipped the safety off for his MP5 submachine gun and leveled it at the noise beyond. "They're here! Steady men!"

"Ryoukai!" All of the other officers sounded off as one and for just a moment Itami felt his spirits lift. Maybe they would make it.

That is until he saw them. Like a never-ending tidal wave, the enemy poured out from alleyways and cramped streets, their blood lust guiding them towards the palace with relentless fury. Itami's heart rate skyrocketed and he felt his mouth go dry. Did the enemy forces get larger?

As the tidal wave got closer the police line opened fire sending plumes of tear gas and automatic weapons fire into the horde. Had Itami not been panicking he might've noticed that the enemy advance faltered slightly. He might've seen the confusion as strange weapons tore into their ranks and made them ill as foreign gases filled their lungs.

Most importantly, he might've heard the sound of rotors sooner right before death rained down from above and swept through the enemy army. Shaken out of his panic Itami looked skyward and would've cried tears of joy were it not for his mental state.

There they were, Itami's guardian angels; U.S. and Japanese Apache gunships. The attack helicopters swarmed the smoke-filled skies like angry locusts as their nose-mounted 30mm cannons chattered away, sending chunks of the now thoroughly terrified enemy forces flying.

Ogres were torn apart piece by bloody piece as they toppled over and crushed their smaller comrades below. Shield bearers tried to hide behind their defensive armaments only to find out that the shields were no match against HEDP* rounds. Cavalry troops that weren't floored by the special police quickly found out the hard way that there was nowhere to run. Their escape routes were cut off as new weapons of war, armored trucks and tracked vehicles, blocked off streets.

The Wyverns weren't any luckier and any that tried to get too close to the helicopters were quickly swatted from the sky as smaller Japanese Cobra gunships joined the fight. The tables had now thoroughly turned and what had once been a bloodbath in favor of the enemy now favored the forces of Earth.

The police raised their fists into the air and gave a hearty "Banzai!" just as the U.S. and Japanese transport helicopters began offloading soldiers in and around the palace.

This was their fight now and more importantly, it had been Itami's fight too. Right now he didn't care though and as he joined the police in their celebration he simply cherished the fact he was alive. Thus the Japanese and Americans fought there.

I know, I know, you wanted tanks. Believe me, I did too, but trust me you're gonna like where I'm going with this. I'm really trying to adhere to the scope of reason this time around. You won't have to wait long, next chapter we're gonna see our old cast of degenerate misfits.

Buuut that might be a hot minute. I do have another project to work on after all. Hopefully things pan out and I can get back to this soon, until then ya'll be easy.

ACRONYMS/TERMS USED:

PGM-Precision Guided Munition. Laser-guided bombs and the like, anything that doesn't indiscriminately destroy the area.

HEDP-High Explosive Dual Purpose. As the name suggests, it's useful against light armor and anything squishy. Apparently, it's also really good at minimizing collateral. I was no pilot so I can't tell ya.

FAST-Future Assault Shell Technology Helmet.