Romeo Two Bravo had been back on the war-torn mainland for eight long weeks. The constant fear of returning home in a wooden casket haunted each soldier's thoughts. But the real danger lurked in complacency, in becoming too accustomed to the harsh realities of life on the frontlines. In this unforgiving environment, routines and habits had the power to be fatal.
Among their many duties, the team was tasked with setting up and manning vehicle checkpoints. These static checkpoints were a blend of monotony and peril, as hours were
spent standing like targets, exposed to well-trained gunmen, snipers, and opportunistic enemies.
One particularly insidious tactic employed by the Freedom movement involved hijacking electric vehicles and attaching small explosive charges to their lithium batteries. The driver would embark on a suicide mission, guiding the mobile bomb towards the unsuspecting troops manning the vehicle checkpoint. Once in close proximity, the bomb would be triggered, unleashing a devastating chain reaction. The resulting explosion resembled a volcanic eruption, with molten metal and ignited battery fluid spewing outwards. The exposed batteries would burn for an extended period, emitting a lethal cocktail of chemical lava that could eat through flesh within seconds.
At a checkpoint stationed outside the Lead Mill nightclub in Sheffield's city centre, a car tore past in the early hours of the morning. Its passengers opened fire with automatic weapons and hurled homemade coffee jar bombs at the parked military vehicles. That night, two soldiers lost their lives, while the remaining troops and a police officer suffered severe injuries.
This week, however, things took a different turn. Romeo Two Zero Bravo had been assigned to the Quick Reaction Force (QRF), responsible for responding to emergency calls. Bomb scares, hoaxes, and false alarms became their new reality. The team would be dispatched to locations all over Sheffield, chasing phantoms and ghosts. More often than not, the reported devices turned out to be empty bags or discarded trash.
Yet, amidst the false alarms, the harsh truth remained: a number of these devices were, in fact, real. Improvised explosive devices (IEDs) were the weapon of choice for the terrorists, a constant threat lurking in the shadows.
On this fateful day, the team bore witness to the largest device ever utilized in the Northern free cities. It would become one of the most devastating terrorist bombings Sheffield had ever witnessed, an explosion carried out in the name of freedom.
Concealed within the back of a seemingly innocuous skip wagon, the device moved undetected, blending in with the countless construction vehicles traversing the city. Packed alongside the 1000 pounds of homemade explosive, ANFO (ammonia nitrate and fuel oil), were six lithium vehicle batteries. These batteries held an immense amount of stored energy. When combined with the ANFO, the resulting blast was catastrophic.
To compound the horror, the terrorists had filled four large plastic oil drums with a lethal assortment of nails, ball bearings, nuts, and bolts. Upon detonation, these deadly projectiles would be launched in all directions, traveling for miles. They tore through anything and everything in their path—people, storefronts, and vehicles—leaving behind a trail of unimaginable carnage and horrific injuries. This shrapnel became a silent killer, indiscriminately cutting down all that stood in its way.
Sheffield, once a bustling city, had been rendered a ghost town by Operation Steel Ring. The military had implemented a suffocating strategy, cutting off the rebels' supply routes and tightening their grip on the city. Vehicle checkpoints dotted all major entryways, manned by a combination of police and military personnel. These checkpoints aimed to restrict movement and monitor the activities of known players and terrorists. Suspicious vehicles were subjected to intense scrutiny, occasionally resulting in arrests and the impounding of vehicles for thorough examination. Some whispered that the government deliberately targeted food deliveries, attempting to starve the populace into submission.
Official responses dismissed these claims, asserting that all suspicious individuals and vehicles would be stopped, searched, and tracked. However, the existence of these checkpoints on that fateful day raised disturbing questions. How did the skip wagon slip through undetected? Why wasn't it stopped? How did the combined intelligence services fail to foresee this attack? Surely an operation of this magnitude would have generated some sort of chatter? The aftermath was filled with countless unanswered questions and conspiracy theories, with some suggesting that the government had allowed the bombing to occur in order to justify further restrictions on freedom. Regardless of the truth, one fact remained: this was a devastating, mindless attack that took lives indiscriminately.
The driver of the skip wagon seemed to possess an uncanny ability to evade detection. He drove the vehicle down a side street near the Sheffield law courts, right under the nose of one of the city's busiest police stations. By 6:00 in the morning, the truck had been parked, its occupants captured on CCTV but impossible to identify. At precisely 7:45, one hour and forty-five minutes after the skip wagon had been abandoned, the device was triggered. It remained unclear whether the explosion was set off by a timer or remotely detonated. Regardless, the method hardly mattered.
The attack had been meticulously planned, timed for maximum impact. The perpetrators understood that terror and chaos would ensue. The device detonated at the precise moment when people were arriving at work, and children were en route to school. Each stage of the attack had been meticulously orchestrated to ensure that those loyal to the government would never forget that day.
The explosion tore through the courthouse and the nearby Department for Work and Pensions offices, leaving concrete, brick, and steel twisted and swaying like trees in a gale. Windows shattered inward as if the building itself inhaled before exhaling the broken shards outward. Glass fragments became deadly projectiles, slicing, cutting, and impaling everything in their path.
Following the initial blast, a shockwave surged outward, transforming the surrounding road into a chaotic battlefield. Cars and vans near the epicentre were overturned or violently propelled across the pavement, smashing against lampposts and colliding with other vehicles.
Then, the rebounding shockwave sucked the air back toward the epicentre, creating a horrifying vacuum. Dust and debris were violently sucked up, launching a mile into the sky.
As the dust settled, a white pallor blanketed everything, as if a dry snowfall had descended upon the scene. Injured and dazed, people stumbled around, resembling ghostly figures. Bloodied and stunned, they gasped for breath in the dense, barely breathable air, suffocating under a mixture of debris, smoke, and toxic fumes.
The blast triggered screams and the cacophony of alarms from both buildings and vehicles. People wandered aimlessly, their minds clouded by confusion and shock. No one knew if another explosion loomed on the horizon. Limbs and body parts were frantically searched for among the wreckage.
Emergency services rushed to the scene, accompanied by bomb disposal teams and army units tasked with securing the area for the rescue workers. Among those units stood Romeo Two Zero Bravo, assigned to join the search efforts.
As the team arrived, they began to establish a perimeter, surveying a landscape that resembled a post-apocalyptic wasteland. Ambulance crews flooded the area, doctors and nurses desperately prioritizing the injured. Those with a chance of survival received immediate attention, while those mortally wounded were comforted and administered high doses of pain relief, often resorting to morphine to help them drift away.
Jay struggled to comprehend the horror before him, reminding himself that such things only happened on television. He turned, surveying the scene, attempting to steady himself
in the face of the unimaginable sights and sounds. Then, the acrid smoke and the stench of burning fuel and flesh overwhelmed him, causing him to choke as he fought to regain his composure. Yet, the most harrowing sight awaited him—the school bus torn apart by the blast, caught in the explosion's merciless grip.
On board the bus were twenty-three children, aged between eleven and fourteen, innocently chatting and laughing with their friends just minutes earlier.
After the bomb erupted, sixteen lifeless bodies littered the scene, their forms twisted and torn by the force of the explosion. Eight survivors clung to life, their injuries severe and grotesque. The driver and staff at the front of the bus had been instantaneously killed, the engine from the car in front acting as a deadly projectile, smashing through the vehicle like a monstrous cannonball. The driver's head was severed, and the teachers seated behind him were crushed under the weight of the wreckage.
Shrapnel wounds inflicted by the blast's destructive payload added to the horror. Nuts, bolts, and ball bearings pierced through limbs and flesh, leaving behind a landscape of unimaginable suffering.
The bomb's impact extended beyond the bus, damaging surrounding buildings, including the nearby police station. Among the dead were five police officers, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time during their vehicle changeover.
Jay, having regained his composure, rallied his team. "Set up the perimeter and begin the sweep," he commanded, his voice laced with determination.
The team diligently combed through the wreckage, mindful of the terrorists' common tactic of planting secondary devices. The initial explosion would lure the security services, while the secondary device lay in wait to catch unsuspecting patrols near the perimeter.
As the team carried out their duties, Liam sat in the cab of his vehicle, ensuring the Electronic Countermeasures were operational, blocking any potential triggering signals. From his vantage point, he glimpsed a woman making her way through the chaos. Covered in dust, her entire being seemed swallowed by an otherworldly whiteness, except for the blood that stained her face. The blast had claimed her as a victim, disoriented and in shock, she aimlessly wandered.
Liam leaped out of his vehicle, rushing to support the woman. As he placed his hand on her shoulder, she turned, revealing the gruesome extent of her injuries. Half of her face had been torn away, her right arm a shredded mess of exposed bone and dangling flesh. As she collapsed into Liam's arms, he stumbled backward, cradling her battered body.
"You're going to be fine, you're going to be fine!" he repeated, his voice trembling with desperate reassurance.
Becky, witnessing the tragic scene, sprinted toward her teammate and the wounded woman. "Medic!" she screamed, her voice filled with desperation. "Where the fuck is a medic?"
Liam remained on the ground, still holding the woman, rocking her gently in his arms.
"You're going to be alright," he whispered, clinging to a flicker of hope.
At some point, the woman succumbed to shock and blood loss, her life slipping away. Yet, Liam continued to rock her lifeless form, as if his unwavering embrace could somehow defy the inevitable.
"Liam, she's gone, mate. Come on, she's gone," Becky knelt beside him, shaking his arm. "Come on, kid, we have a job to do."
An ambulance crew arrived at that moment, taking over the scene. Liam rose to his feet, blood staining his right side where the woman had rested her head. He looked pale, standing there silently, his gaze fixed on her as her body was solemnly placed into a bag and carried away.
Jay approached, concerned for his struggling comrades. Though their pain was evident, there was still work to be done, for the day was far from over.
"Switch on, guys. Get your shit together before it's one of us going into one of those bags," Jay implored, locking eyes with both Liam and Becky. "Liam, Becky, are we good?"
Becky's eyes widened in agreement as Liam turned away, still shaken by the harrowing scene he had just witnessed. As he sought solace within the safety of the heavily armoured vehicle, Liam reached for his spare jacket, discarding the bloodied garment onto the floor,
hoping to rid himself of the haunting memories it carried. Little did he know, that jacket would forever haunt his thoughts.
"Boss, Felix needs you. They think they've found a secondary device," Mo urgently informed Jay, grabbing his shoulder and pointing towards the bomb disposal team.
Felix, the call sign given to the fearless Explosive Ordnance Disposal units operating in the area, was derived from a cartoon character named Felix the Cat, known for his nine lives. Adorning the sides of their large armoured vehicles were red squares, within which a picture of a cartoon cat's head wearing green fatigues and a bomb disposal helmet was painted.
Jay and Mo approached the officer in charge of the EOD unit. "What can we do for you, boss?" Jay inquired.
"I want your team to keep a close watch on those flats across the road while we handle this," the officer instructed, first pointing to the towering flats in Kelham Island that overlooked the bombing site, then gesturing to a nearby bin.
Jay raised his rifle, peering through its sight and activating the dual zoom. He meticulously surveyed the bin, and after a minute, he noticed something peculiar. A black bin bag hung out of the bin, snagged on the metal frame, its tear revealing exposed wires and a digital timer. Amongst the wires, he spotted a small, metallic object resembling a tiny cigar. Nodding in acknowledgement, he lowered his rifle. "Yes, boss, we'll get the drone up," he initially responded, but then remembered the ECM equipment, which would interfere with the drone's signal. "Sorry, boss, I meant we'll set up an observation post and do this the old-fashioned way."
"Crack on, then. Let's get this done," Felix remarked, preparing to don his bomb suit.
Jay and Mo returned to Liam and Becky. "Alright, everyone, we need eyes on those high rises," Jay commanded, pointing to the dilapidated flats across the street.
"Mo, Becky, grab your scopes. Liam and I will utilize the vehicle's cameras—full range, thermal, LIDAR, and infrared," Jay instructed as he climbed into the crew commander's seat, activating the vehicle's sensor and camera systems.
As Felix deployed the Barrow, a remote-controlled robot resembling a giant arm on tracks equipped with a shotgun, water gun, and other disruptive tools such as a precision laser and thermal knife capable of slicing through metal effortlessly, tension filled the air. Thoughts swiftly shifted from the images of horror to fear.
The team meticulously scanned every floor and window of the flats, methodically working their way up and down, inch by inch. If there was something suspicious, they were determined to uncover it.
Apprehension grew as the possibility of this being a trap loomed. The robot began to scan the suspected device, heightening tensions as both the EOD team and Romeo Two Zero Bravo could potentially become targets. It was not uncommon for terrorists to plant decoy devices to draw in bomb disposal units, as they were prime targets for snipers. In fact, each bomb disposal officer within the EOD teams carried a £10,000 bounty on their heads. The deadly game of cat and mouse between the bomb maker and Felix was constantly played out on the treacherous streets.
Liam's eyes snapped open, his mind jolted back to the present moment, fuelled by the lingering trauma of what he had witnessed. "Boss, I've got something," he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency. "There's a heat source on the top floor of the flat at 12 o'clock from the shop."
Mo positioned himself for a clear view and observed the scene unfolding before him. It appeared to be a woman and a man, capturing footage of the EOD team's activities.
Liam swiftly directed the Lidar towards the pair, his finger tightening around the trigger. In an instant, a laser beam shot out, connecting with the target. The laser bounced back, feeding precise distance and scan data to the Lidar's sensor.
The detailed scan produced by the Lidar's advanced AI technology translated into clear images, capable of identifying weapons and electronic equipment. Jay switched the camera to facial recognition, and within minutes, a match was found. The camera revealed the face of Jane Davison from Pittsmoore, a known member of the freedom movement with a history of civil disorder, protesting without a permit, and anti-government propaganda.
"Hello, Zero. This is Romeo Two Bravo Zero. We have a person of interest. Requesting a P tag at this location. Uploading data link now, over," Jay transmitted, initiating the process of sharing GPS coordinates and image details.
"Romeo Two Zero Bravo, this is Zero. Data package received. Handing over to Swarm now, out."
Everyone was aware of the Swarm, a network of drones that continuously patrolled major towns and cities. Under the new security laws, once a suspect was tagged, they would be subjected to 72 hours of round-the-clock surveillance. Equipped with high-resolution cameras, biometric sensors, and facial recognition trackers, the drones would closely monitor the target's every move.
What remained unknown to most was the secret weapon developed by the tech experts at Q branch, the intelligence services gadget masters. They had outfitted the Swarm drones with the WASP (Weaponized AI Strategic Projectile)—a Graphene Oxide DART, approximately one inch in length. Packed with Nano-technology, the DART boasted a guidance system and a small amount of HEX4 explosives.
HEX4, a synthetic compound, possessed the ability to create a powerful vacuum upon detonation, sucking in anything near the epicentre of the implosion.
The WASP, utilizing artificial intelligence and facial recognition, would home in on the target, guiding itself mid-flight. This minuscule marvel of technology—a micro electrical and mechanical drone—would penetrate the back of the target's neck, make it’s way towards the heart and lungs, and then trigger the HEX4, inflicting fatal internal injuries. The WASP was a silent killer, deployed only when a suspect was caught carrying out a terror attack, planting a device, or posing a threat to life. It was a shoot-to-kill policy sanctioned by the British Government.
The team continued their surveillance of the pair until they vanished from sight. Meanwhile, Felix inspected the secondary device and decided to proceed with a controlled detonation. The Barrow robot rolled towards the package in the bin, its arm coming level with the device. First, it sprayed expanding foam around the bin, then the shotgun barrel and water jet were inserted into the hardened foam. The robot patiently waited, and then...
BANG! The shotgun blast obliterated the battery and severed the wiring, while the powerful stream of water dislodged the explosives and detonator.
After a few tense minutes, the all-clear was given. The device had been rendered safe, and the robot was called back to its storage vehicle. With the danger dealt with, the EOD team shifted their focus to evidence retrieval. They meticulously bagged and tagged any items that could potentially identify the bombers, pieces of wiring, timing and power units, anything that could serve as forensic evidence.
Having spent eight gruelling hours on the scene, fatigue began to weigh heavily on Romeo Two Zero Bravo. It was time to retreat back to the safety of their base.
Three days later, the team received a grim update. Jane Davison, the person of interest they had been monitoring, had met her end while attempting to conceal a cache of weapons in a local park. The Swarm, diligently surveilling her every move, had recorded all her actions that fateful night. With the legal counsel on-site, giving the order, the decision was made to eliminate her as she began hiding two AK 78 rifles and a series of coffee jar bombs.
The coffee jar bomb, a primitive yet lethal homemade hand grenade, consisted of explosive material stuffed inside a glass jar, with nails haphazardly taped around its exterior. It possessed a crude pressure release detonator, designed to trigger upon the shattering of the glass. The WASP, deployed in response to the imminent threat, imploded within her body, tearing apart vital organs and causing massive internal bleeding. In an instant, she met her demise.
Jay, devoid of any remorse for the terrorist responsible for the deaths and injuries inflicted upon innocent civilians, women, children, fathers, and mothers, felt that she had received her just desserts.
The day of the bombing had set the sombre tone for what would become the most harrowing tour in the history of L Battery. From that point onward, circumstances only deteriorated further. The team would need to rely on their training, their unyielding friendship, and their unwavering bravery if they were to survive the weeks and months that lay ahead
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Project Phoenix: The Rise
Historical Fiction"In a Britain on the precipice of collapse, where fear and chaos reign supreme, the lines between reality and fiction blur. A deadly virus has ravaged the nation, leaving behind a shattered society teetering on the brink of civil war. The parallels...
