Chapter 2: Bombs away

0410H

Approaching San Lorenzo Forest, Philippines

Six C-130J Super Hercules aircraft flew in formation through the night, their silhouettes barely discernible in the darkness. The moon provided the only light, but thick clouds shrouded the planes, rendering them invisible from the ground. The hum of the engines was a constant backdrop, creating a steady rhythm that mirrored the soldiers' racing hearts.

Inside the aircraft, the dim red lights cast eerie shadows across the interior. Soldiers sat shoulder to shoulder on the metal benches, their gear securely strapped to their bodies. The air was thick with the scent of oil, sweat, and anticipation. Conversations were low and serious, occasionally punctuated by nervous laughter as they prepared for the operation.

"Three mikes out from LZ!" the Jumpmaster yelled, his voice slicing through the drone of the engines. The announcement spurred a burst of activity within the aircraft, the soldiers checking and rechecking their gear.

Lieutenant Howard stood, gripping a handhold to steady himself as the aircraft hit a pocket of turbulence. "Alright, everyone, final checks!" he barked, his tone firm yet encouraging. Moving down the line, he ensured each soldier was ready.

Staff Sergeant Amaro tightened the straps on his gear, his eyes locked on the task at hand. "You heard the Lieutenant! Get your heads in the game!"

Sergeant Ricko, seated next to Private First Class Homer, gave him a rough pat on the shoulder. "Stay sharp, Homer. We're gonna need you to lay down some serious firepower."

Private Homer nodded, a grin forming. "Don't worry, sarge. I got your back."

Private Paddy, checking his grenades, glanced at Private First Class Jacky, who was securing his rifle. "Let's not screw this up, Jacky. I don't want to be picking up your slack out there."

Jacky laughed, though his focus remained on his weapon. "No chance, Paddy. I'll cover your ass."

Specialist Raggy did a final check of his medical supplies, his fingers moving quickly over each item. "Raf, stick close. If you get hit, I'm not dragging you back."

Private Raf chuckled, adjusting his gear. "You just make sure you're close enough to patch me up, Raggy."

Corporal Romolo yelled at his fire team, a grin splitting his face. "Keep your eyes open and your sectors covered!"

Private Isaac nodded sharply. "Got it, Corporal. No one's screwing up on my watch."

The hum of the engines grew louder as the aircraft began its descent, and the vibrations intensified.

Lieutenant Howard took his place near the door, his eyes scanning his platoon. "This is it, team. Let's get in there and show them what we're made of."

The aircraft shuddered slightly as it neared the landing zone, and the Jumpmaster moved to the door, ready to open it. "Two mikes!" he shouted.

The soldiers, now standing, adjusted their gear and tightened their grips on their weapons. The tension was thick, but so was their resolve. Each one was ready, mentally and physically prepared for what lay ahead.

The Jumpmaster's hand hovered over the door release. "One mike! Get ready!"

As the countdown reached its final moments, the soldiers braced themselves, their faces set in determined grimaces. The C-130J Super Hercules continued its descent, bringing them closer to their objective, and the next crucial phase of their mission.

"30 SECONDS!" as the jumpmaster exclaimed, all units stood up and faced the direction of the jump door.

Howard nodded at his men, a small smile playing on his lips. "Let's get this done. And remember, stay sharp."

Private Paddy smirked, nudging Jacky. "Ready to show these guys what we're made of?"

Jacky grinned back. "You know it, Paddy. Let's give 'em hell."

Sergeant Ricko glanced at Homer again. "You better not jam up on me out there."

Homer chuckled, slapping his rifle. "This baby's good to go."

Staff Sergeant Amaro looked over his squad, satisfaction evident in his eyes. "Let's do this, boys. No one gets left behind."

"STAND BY!"

"GREEN LIGHT! GO! GO! GO!" The red light inside the plane switched to green, casting a brief, eerie glow over the cabin. The roar of the engines and the cold rush of wind greeted each soldier as they approached the open door, their faces set with determination. One by one, they leaped into the night sky, vanishing into the darkness below. The jumpmaster, a seasoned veteran, watched each unit depart with a steely gaze, feeling the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. As the last soldier disappeared into the void, the jumpmaster took a final breath and stepped into the rushing air, melding into the night with the mission ahead.

"Here I goooo" The jumpmaster followed suit.

Upon landing in the LZ, soldiers swiftly secured their parachutes to prevent dragging, gathered and stowed them in designated bags. They promptly retrieved and secured their weapons and equipment. The platoon, having secured their gear, they immediately established perimeter security around the LZ to deter hostile threats by spreading to provide overwatch. Subsequently, they moved to the pre-designated rally point near the forest entrance, forming up by squads and platoons for accountability and awaiting further orders. During this phase, they conducted final gear checks to ensure readiness for the next phase of operations.

Upon landing in the LZ, soldiers quickly detached their parachutes, ensuring they were not dragged by the gusting wind. They expertly folded and stowed them in designated bags, each movement precise and practiced. Weapons were retrieved from their harnesses and checked for readiness, while equipment was secured and adjusted. With their gear in order, the platoon swiftly moved into position, establishing a defensive perimeter around the LZ. Teams spread out in a coordinated fashion, with fire teams covering sectors to provide overlapping fields of fire and comprehensive overwatch.

Lt. Howard conducted a brief radio check to ensure communication lines were clear and that every unit was accounted for. With perimeter security firmly in place, Staff Sgt. Amaro, the 1st Squad Leader, directed his squad to advance to the pre-designated rally point near the forest entrance. Movement was precise and deliberate, with Sergeant Ricko, the 1st Fire Team Leader, keeping his team in line, including Private First Class Jacky, the rifleman, Private First Class Homer, the automatic rifleman, and Private Paddy, the grenadier.

Cpl. Romolo, the 2nd Fire Team Leader, led his team through the terrain with equal care, accompanied by Specialist Raggy, the combat medic, Private First Class Raf, the automatic rifleman, Private First Class Robert, the grenadier, and Private Isaac, the rifleman. Upon reaching the rally point, the platoon formed up by squads and platoons. Lt. Howard oversaw the assembly while squad leaders conducted headcounts and checked for any missing or injured personnel. Final gear checks were thorough, with each soldier ensuring that their equipment was functional and secured.

"Alright, Platoons! To your designated sectors NOW!" the Company Commander yelled, cutting through the focused silence.

"1st Platoon to Middle Sector Bravo!" Lt. Howard announced, directing his unit with authority.

"2nd Platoon to Upper Sector Bravo!" an unnamed platoon leader called out.

"3rd Platoon to Lower Sector Bravo!" another unnamed platoon leader commanded.

The soldiers snapped into action, moving swiftly and purposefully to their assigned sectors.

Each platoon swiftly established a defensive perimeter, focusing their efforts on fortifying positions against the dense forest that bordered their location. Heavy machine guns were strategically emplaced to cover the treeline, providing a broad and overlapping field of fire to guard against any potential enemy advances from the shadows of the forest. Sniper teams took up positions in elevated areas, their scopes trained on the treeline to detect any movement among the trees.

Soldiers worked diligently to construct sandbag fortifications, creating protective cover oriented towards the forest. They utilized the natural terrain, stacking sandbags around large, sturdy stones and fallen logs for additional cover. The dense woods were also exploited, with soldiers positioning themselves behind trees and using the forest's natural cover to obscure their positions and improve concealment.

Anti-tank positions were established with precision, focusing on defending against armored vehicles used by enemy insurgents. Anti-tank weapons were strategically positioned at key points to cover potential routes through the forest. These positions were set up quickly but effectively, aimed at ensuring any enemy vehicles that approached from the forest would face significant resistance.

Robust communication networks were set up using radios, enabling constant coordination with the incoming armor and infantry reinforcements. Squad leaders and platoon commanders relayed critical updates, ensuring that all soldiers were informed of their roles and the evolving situation.

Despite the thorough defensive setup, there was growing concern about the delay of the armored and infantry reinforcements. The anticipated support had yet to arrive, and the soldiers remained on high alert, maintaining their defensive positions against the forest as they awaited the crucial reinforcements that were running late.

Staff Sgt. Amaro remained at his designated position along the defensive perimeter, his irritation barely concealed. He stood with a rigid posture, eyes constantly darting towards the dense forest as if willing the reinforcements to emerge. The weight of his gear and the stifling heat did little to lessen his mounting frustration.

He adjusted his helmet with a swift motion, trying to keep his focus sharp. Every few moments, he glanced over at the radio operator stationed nearby, hoping for any sign of communication from the delayed armor and infantry. When no new messages came through, his frustration grew more evident. His jaw tightened, and his fingers drummed impatiently on the stock of his rifle.

"Where the hell is the Armor and Infantry?!" Staff Sgt. Amaro muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl of exasperation. He turned abruptly to the radio operator, his irritation unmistakable.

"Hey, any chance you could check in and ask for an ETA on those reinforcements?" Staff Sgt. Amaro asked, his tone friendly but laced with a hint of impatience. "We could really use an update right about now."

The operator nodded quickly, shifting to adjust the radio's frequency and initiate contact. Staff Sgt. Amaro resumed his watch, eyes scanning the forest edge with renewed urgency. Despite his frustration, he knew that maintaining his position and readiness was crucial, even as the delay of the reinforcements gnawed at him.

Staff Sgt. Amaro stood at his position along the defensive perimeter, his gaze constantly scanning the forest. Despite his frustration, he tried to keep his tone calm as he addressed Cpl. Romolo and Sgt. Ricko, who approached him in turn.

Cpl. Romolo, maintaining his own defensive stance, looked over with a reassuring nod. "Well relax, don't worry they will show up anytime now" he said, his voice steady but empathetic. He continued to scan the treeline, his eyes reflecting the same vigilance he encouraged in Amaro.

Sgt. Ricko, nearby and still keeping an eye on his own sector, furrowed his brow in curiosity. "Yeah, anyway, why are you always irritable these days?" he asked, his tone more conversational than confrontational. His gaze flickered briefly from the forest to Amaro, searching for some insight into his squad leader's changed demeanor.

the conversation was abruptly interrupted by the sharp crackle of a modern walkie-talkie. The radio operator, holding a sleek, compact walkie-talkie, quickly adjusted the channel and pressed the transmit button with a firm click.

The operator's voice burst through the radio's speaker, clear and authoritative. "Attention all units! Reinforcements' ETA is four mikes out. I repeat, four mikes out

Amaro looked at the radio operator with a brief, appreciative nod. "Four mikes, got it," he said, his tone now tinged with renewed patience."

Amaro let out a sigh and looked back, his frustration back evident but his response tempered with a trace of understanding. "Well, who wouldn't? It's just been one of those days, you know? Things aren't lining up like we planned, When their own paycheck is delayed till next month, things don't go in my way these days, in addition, this situation right now, this delay" His voice held a mixture of weariness and acceptance, reflecting the strain of the situation

At that moment, Specialist Raggy, stationed nearby and overhearing the exchange, chimed in with a knowing look. "Oh, that's rough, but at least you didn't have to wait for three months like I did," he said, his tone laced with a hint of shared experience. Raggy's face showed a face of sympathy, reflecting his understanding of the frustrations involved.

"Three months???" Amaro uttered in shock, his voice rising slightly. "Wait, you waited three months for your paycheck??? Must've been a good feeling," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcastic astonishment. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and his brows were raised high. The sardonic smile on his face accentuated the incredulity in his voice, highlighting the contrast between his current frustration and the seemingly excessive length of time Raggy described.

"What?!" Raggy shot back, his voice carrying an edge of exasperated amusement. His eyes widened in mock disbelief, and he threw his hands up in a dramatic gesture, as if to say, *Seriously?* His expression was a mix of irritation and begrudging humor, the annoyance punctuated by a smirk that suggested he found Amaro's sarcastic comment more irritatingly funny than anything else.

As PFC Raf's voice rang out, "Ah, here they are," the entire crew instinctively turned their heads. Their eyes quickly settled on the open field behind them, where the approaching shadows of vehicles began to materialize. The silhouettes of the armored vehicles emerged from the horizon, moving steadily across the expansive field.

The low, throaty rumble of the engines reverberated through the open terrain, gradually growing louder. The vehicles' headlights cut through the twilight, casting sweeping beams of light across the field and illuminating the dust that kicked up from the churned earth. The convoy's movement was deliberate, the mechanical clanking and occasional bursts of engine noise punctuating the stillness of the area.

As the vehicles closed in, the sight of their approaching forms brought a palpable sense of relief and renewed energy to the soldiers. The massive shadows of the armored units loomed larger, signaling the arrival of much-needed reinforcements and sparking a wave of focused anticipation among the crew.

As PFC Raf's voice rang out, "Ah, here they are," the entire crew turned their attention to the open field behind them. The shadows of vehicles advanced purposefully toward their positions, a testament to the urgency of the situation. Clouds of smoke and dust billowed up from the churned earth, trailing behind the convoy and signaling the intense pace of their arrival.

The convoy was a formidable sight. Main battle tanks led the charge, their silhouettes unmistakable against the horizon: the M1A2 Abrams SEPv3, its angular form exuding raw power; the M1A2 P Heavy Abrams, bristling with formidable armor; the Leopard 2A7, known for its sleek design and formidable weaponry; and the Leopard 2AP, its advanced armor catching the fading light. Light battle tanks followed, including the Sabrah ASCOD II and Pandur II, their more nimble designs contrasting with the heavier tanks.

Armored Personnel Carriers (APCs) joined the ranks, such as the IVECO Guarani, with its rugged build; the different variants of the Stryker, adaptable and reliable; the M113 FSV, with its classic form; the AIFV, versatile and well-armored; the FMC M113 IFV, and the GKN FS100 Simba 4x4, known for its durability. The Bradley IFVs, with their distinctive profile, added to the robust lineup.

Trailing behind were the Light Tactical Vehicles: the AM General HMMWV, the Liberato 4x4, and the Heavy Armored Liberato 4x4, providing essential support and mobility.

All these vehicles were part of the Armored "Pambato" Division and Infantry "Cobra" Division, strategically positioned to cover both the eastern and southern sectors of the red zone.

The tanks began to maneuver into their designated defensive positions, meticulously prepared and reserved by the advancing party earlier. The ground, heavily scarred from their approach, settled as the massive vehicles aligned themselves with precision. Their engines idled softly, the rumbling vibrations adding a low-frequency hum to the ambient noise of the field.

The main battle tanks, such as the M1A2 Abrams SEPv3 and Leopard 2A7, took their places behind the fortifications of sandbags and natural cover, their massive frames partially obscured by the defensive barriers. The tanks' powerful turrets slowly swiveled to face potential threats, their cannons trained on the treeline and open fields.

Simultaneously, the other vehicles began to dismount their infantry. Soldiers spilled out from the APCs and IFVs, including the Bradley IFVs and IVECO Guarani, moving with practiced efficiency. They spread out to take up positions behind the newly constructed defenses, using every available piece of cover. Some found shelter behind the vehicles themselves, while others took advantage of natural terrain features like rocks and trees, as well as the sandbag fortifications.

The infantry established their defensive lines with deliberate precision, setting up machine guns and sniper positions for overwatch. They quickly fortified their positions with additional sandbags and utilized the natural terrain to enhance their cover. The soldiers worked seamlessly, their movements coordinated and focused, ensuring that every avenue of approach was covered.

As the last of the vehicles completed their positioning, the field was transformed into a well-organized defensive stronghold. The combination of armored vehicles and dismounted infantry created a layered defense.

Lt. Howard greeted the arriving division commanders with a wry smile. "Nice of you to have finally joined us," he said jokingly, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine relief. He stood with his hands on his hips, his posture relaxed yet authoritative.

The Armor Division Commander, Allen, responded with a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," he said with a smile, brushing off the jest with good-natured humor. He adjusted his gear and glanced around at the defensive setup, then began moving towards his vehicle.

Scott, the Infantry Division Commander, shook his head with a hint of exasperation. "Well, turns out there were still a lot of civvies awake at this time," he said, referring to the traffic jam they had encountered. He gestured towards the field where the traffic jam had occurred, his hands expressing a mix of frustration and amusement.

"Well, we have to go now," Allen said, shifting to a more businesslike tone. "Gotta meet up with someone." He nodded towards the upper Sector Bravo, just to the right of where Howard's platoon had established their defensive position. He turned and began to walk purposefully in that direction, heading towards the meeting point with the company commander.

"Sure, sure, go ahead now," Howard responded with a teasing edge. "He's waiting for you—you might get an earful though, Hahahaha." He chuckled and waved them off, his friendly grin reflecting the light-heartedness of the moment.

Both Allen and Scott smiled at Howard's comment. "Whatever," they replied in unison, their expressions a mix of amusement and readiness. Allen and Scott quickened their pace, heading towards their vehicles with determined strides. They climbed in and started moving towards Sector Bravo, their vehicles kicking up dust as they made their way to the upper sector. With a final wave, they set off.

As the final orders were given and the last adjustments were made, the soldiers settled into their positions, their movements methodical and deliberate. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as they remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the distant treelines and open fields for any sign of movement, particularly enemy patrols.

The defensive positions were meticulously camouflaged, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings. Sandbags were covered with dirt and foliage, and any exposed equipment was draped with camouflage netting to reduce visibility. Soldiers carefully arranged rocks and branches to mask their positions further, creating a natural look that melded with the terrain.

The faint rustling of leaves and the distant calls of wildlife provided a deceptive calm, but the soldiers remained alert, their senses finely tuned to detect any subtle disturbances. Every now and then, a soldier would adjust a piece of cover or shift slightly to ensure that their position remained as hidden as possible.

As they waited, the occasional whisper of a wind and the distant hum of engines from the arriving reinforcements were the only sounds that punctuated the stillness. Each soldier maintained a focused, almost breathless watchfulness, their attention fixed on the horizon and the dense forest ahead.

PFC Raf, his voice barely above a whisper, turned to his squad. "When will they be here?" he asked, his eyes scanning the darkened horizon and the darkened skies, straining to pierce through the encroaching night.

"Two mikes out," Staff Sgt. Amaro replied in a low, measured tone, his voice carrying the assurance of someone well-acquainted with the precise timing of operations or so he previously thought. He glanced at his watch, then at the faint glow of the distant horizon, indicating that the arrival was imminent.

"Make sure your NVGs are on now," Amaro instructed, his tone leaving no room for error. His hand gestured to the night vision goggles hanging around his helmet, the green glow of his own NVGs casting a soft, eerie light on his eyes.

"Aye, Sir," came the uniform reply from his squad, their voices subdued but resolute. One by one, they adjusted their NVGs, the lenses clicking into place with a soft snap. The night vision goggles cast a greenish tint over their eyes, transforming the darkened landscape into a spectrum of shades and shadows.

0435H

Malacañang Palace, Manila, Philippines

Situation Room

The room was shrouded in darkness, with only one side illuminated by the faint glow of a large rectangular screen. The screen displayed a live feed from a drone hovering over the operation zone, its high-resolution imagery revealing the exact locations of enemy camps with striking clarity. The stark contrast of the screen's light cast long shadows across the room.

Sitting in the center of the room, positioned prominently at the head of a large table, was a man in his 40s. His expression was stern, eyes fixed intently on the screen as he absorbed the detailed visuals of the operation zone.

Flanking him were two men in their 30s and 40s. Both wore expressions of concern, their brows furrowed in concentration. They exchanged occasional glances, their worry evident as they followed the drone feed with keen interest. Their similar, stern looks suggested they were deeply invested in the operation's outcome, sharing the weight of responsibility for the mission's success.

The dim light from the screen painted their faces in shades of blue and green, adding to the overall tension of the scene. The quiet hum of the drone's feed was the only sound, punctuating the charged silence as they continued to monitor the enemy positions closely.

"When will the first strike start?" the man in the center inquired, his voice steady. His gaze remained fixed on the drone feed, the stern set of his jaw reflecting his focus.

"In exactly 2 minutes, Mr. President," the man in the green military uniform responded, his voice clipped and precise. He sat beside the table, his uniform impeccably neat, with insignia and medals reflecting the dim light from the screen.

"I see," Mr. President said, blinking as he turned his attention back to the big screen. The light from the screen illuminated his face, casting a sharp contrast against the darkness of the room. His gaze remained fixed on the drone feed.

0437H

San Lorenzo Forest Airspace, Philippines

High above the dense canopy of San Lorenzo Forest, a fleet of sleek, grey drones patrolled the skies with ghostly precision. Their streamlined, angular bodies, painted in muted shades of grey, moved with near-silent efficiency. These drones, designed for maximum stealth, hovered inconspicuously as they relayed real-time data, their presence unnoticed by enemy forces below.

The distant rumble of jet engines grew louder as the powerful F-15 E Strike Eagles approached. Their imposing grey frames cut through the sky, still closing in on the target area. The jets, equipped with advanced weaponry and optimized for high-speed engagements, made their way steadily toward their objective.

The tension was palpable as the drone operator's voice broke through the comms. "Agila 1-2, Owl 3 is airborne and positioning over the target area. Standing by for target data," he announced. "Owl 3" codenamed one of the stealthy drones now providing crucial surveillance, while the F-15 E Strike Eagles, designated "Agila 1-2," continued their approach, preparing to strike with pinpoint accuracy once they received the necessary information.

Multiple F-15 E Strike Eagles cruised steadily toward the targeted area, their grey silhouettes cutting through the sky. The engines' deep rumble underscored their approach, a reminder of the overwhelming firepower they carried.

"Copy, Owl 3. We're en route," came the response over the radio. The Weapon Systems Officer, codenamed Agila 2, spoke with calm authority. "Please provide initial visual on the target." His request, transmitted clearly over the comms, was a crucial step in confirming the exact location and layout of the target area as the jets continued their approach.

"Owl 3, we're receiving your video feed," Agila 2, the Weapon Systems Officer of an F-15 E Strike Eagle, stated as the drone's imagery appeared on his display. "Can you confirm target coordinates?" His voice, steady and focused, sought confirmation as the jet continued its approach.

.

"Affirmative, Agila 2. Target is confirmed at Grid 12-34-56. No changes in target status," the Drone Operator responded, his voice calm. The coordinates were relayed with precision, ensuring that the F-15 E Strike Eagles would have the accurate information needed.

1 mike out

"Owl 3, we're seeing the target. Can you mark it with a laser for precise guidance?" Agila 2 requested, his tone focused. The request was crucial for ensuring the accuracy of the impending strike, as the laser mark would provide the exact location needed for the F-15 E Strike Eagles to engage effectively.

"Roger that, marking target now," the Drone Operator, codenamed Owl 3, responded promptly. The drone's laser targeting system activated, projecting an accurate beam onto the designated target area to ensure that the F-1 E Strike Eagles would have accurate guidance for their strike.

"Agila 1, Owl 3 has confirmed the target and is marking it. Setting up for laser-guided bombs." conveyed to the pilot codenamed Agila 1 by Agila 2 the WSO.

"Agila 2, ensure we're configured for LGBs and check the target lock," Agila 1 directed.

"Agila 1, we're good to go. LGB Paveway II are armed and the targeting system is locked onto the laser mark," Agila 2 replied, his voice confident and steady.

"Agila 1, we're approaching the target. Adjust heading 10 degrees right for optimal lock." Agila 2 ordered.

"Adjusting now. Locking on target." Agila 1 followed.

Agila 2 announced "Bombs away in 3, 2, 1... releasing."

To be continued...

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If you are wondering why there are non-existent vehicles it's because it's made by non-existent companies called Pathfinder Heavy Industries, Pathfinder Systems, and there are more, they will be introduced later on. 

Thank you for reading, don't hesitate to comment on what you think about this chapter and if there are any mistakes i did about military stuff.