Girl und Panzer: The Yankee's in Tank

Chapter 34

Flashback to the Dallas Incident

In the distance, a battlefield lay strewn with destroyed tanks, their charred husks testifying to the fierce battle that had unfolded. Crew members lay lifeless on the ground, their anguished faces telling a harrowing tale. Screams echoed through the air as the scene transitioned to Grand Lake Commander, who was enduring brutal torture. Despite the agony, he managed a weak chuckle.

"Is that all you've got? I knew you Vermont's rich kids would change the way people look at us... Isn't that right, Don Houston?" the Commander taunted.

As the camera panned, it revealed Houston standing a few feet away, holding jump cables. He wore the uniform of the Vermont Tankery Academy Vice Commander, with a bandana wrapped around his forehead. He approached the Grand Lake Commander, continuing his torment.

"Be silent!" Houston commanded in a menacing tone.

Once the ordeal was over, the Commander struggled to catch his breath, the electric shocks still coursing through his body. Houston gripped his chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"You know, when the public learns of your school's actions, there'll be hell to pay after this match ends," the Commander warned.

"Oh, I'm well aware. The Association will cover it all up. Every death will be labeled an accident, and every crime will remain hidden. No authorities will uncover the truth. We'll still be the best school in the state, and the money we'll receive will secure our future," Houston replied.

"What about the witnesses? We're all witnesses in this war game. When the authorities start asking questions, they'll come to us," the Commander pressed.

Houston glared at him, then let go of his chin and retrieved something from his side, slowly advancing towards the Commander.

"Then I'll make sure there are no witnesses," Houston declared.

"Are you going to kill me?" the Commander asked defiantly.

"No, there are fates worse than death," Houston said as he raised a machete, ready to strike. However, a familiar voice called out to Houston.

"Brother!" Red exclaimed.

The scene shifted to Red, who was sprinting towards the confrontation, donning his Vermont fighter pilot jacket. He stood by his older brother's side and pleaded with him.

"Brother, please don't kill him," Red implored.

"Why shouldn't I? He's the enemy," Houston responded.

"Just because he's the enemy doesn't mean we should take a life. We've never been people who should be killing others. This match has changed us, even changed you, older brother. Don, please, stop this madness for me," Red pleaded.

"Have you gone soft, little brother? We were taught never to show weakness in our unit. Remember Father's lessons: we don't hesitate, we don't break, we don't cry, we destroy our enemies before they destroy us," Houston argued.

"No, brother, I haven't gone soft. I'm here to save you, to save you from the mistake you're about to make. You've let Commander Anderson control your mind. Please, brother, don't do this," Red implored.

"I never thought you'd fall for the enemy's lies, little brother," Houston scoffed.

"Brother, what I'm saying is the truth. The Association is forcing us into this to make money. Please, listen to me. What they're saying might be a lie you refuse to acknowledge," Red urged.

In anger, Houston backhanded his younger brother to the ground and tossed the machete aside before approaching him.

"You dare to betray me, little brother? You dare betray our unit?" Houston yelled.