Land of the United Free!

Arc one / Chapter Fourteen

    Skies above Guam.

    The buzzing of the engines is all he can hear from within the RC-135. The headset crackles as information from the Cold war and Modern day ships came in droves, nearly overwhelming the operator with voices from comms operators.

    "Damn..." He whispered.

    "Looks like a mess down there..." His partner commented, pressing the headset against her ear, listening to the voices with distain.

    "This is USS Normandy to Griffin Actual, how copy?" The radio crackles clearly, surprising the operator.

    "USS Normandy, this Griffin Actual, loud and clear. Over." Mike replies.

    "Griffin Actual, we are bingo on ammunition, we are retreating back to the USS Kitty Hawk for refuel and re-arming. The USS Philippine Sea has taken command as we re-arm."

    "USS Normandy, roger, we have sent a route to your navigator. Over and out." Mike then immediately re-adjusted the controls of the machine before speaking again. "USS Philippine Sea, this is Griffin Actual, how copy?"

    "–and clear, over." The comms officer of the Cruiser replies.

    "USS Philippine Sea, USS Normandy has retreated for re-arm and re-fuel, hold out until then. Over." Mike re-brief the comms officer.

    "Wilco, over." The comms operator on the other side replies.

    The glow from the monitor continues as Mike and Rousetta continues to operate the machines. The buzzing of the engines filling the background.

    ———

    McCain studies the scene bellow, not only looking for hostile ships, but also anything that may need a note over. The ocean battle field bellow is littered with ships of all shapes and sizes, as ships of both sides fire an endless rain of hell at each other, relentlessly trying to hit one other. But clearly, the USN is winning, and by a landslide.

    Missiles screams out of the USS Philippine Sea and a few Modern Destroyers in a combine attack against the fleeing ships. The missiles make contact with their targets, the destroyers of the hostile fleet, completely ripping apart the metal hauls and splitting the small vessels in half.

    Next, was something out of some comic fiction. Modern and cold war fighter-bombers, sped along the flanks of the enemy ships, following behind where second world war fighters, torpedo bombers, and dive bombers, racing against each other to the hostile fleet.

    The leading jet's scream towards one of the enemy cruisers, dropping their payloads. The bombs hit the side of the haul, erupting into a ball of bright orange flames, consuming all that was near the impact point.

    The cold war jet's follow suit, aiming for another cruiser. The payloads drop from the Tomcats, impacting the the superstructure, turning it into a ball of flames and mangled metal.

    Lastly, the second world war aircrafts spread out their overwhelming numbers to hit as much targets at the same time, only aiming for the remaining cruisers and destroyers. Dive bombers rise as torpedo bombers fall with Fighters and Fighter-Bombers staying level, aiming down their sights, readying a barrage of rockets.

    Not long after, the dive bombers made a 180 roll and descended onto the fleeing ships, diving flaps wide open. Similarly, torpedo bombers made a short and quick dive nearer to the surface and dropped their payloads before pulling on the stick and quickly dash back to the second world war carriers.

    The payloads, bombs and kinetic torpedos slam against the hulls of the ships blasting giant holes into the sides and destroying anything near the impact point. Pilots cheer into the comms, friends congratulate each other and rivals start tallying who has the higher kills, or in this case, how many ships and enemy sailors they have killed.