Wings of Honor: Meeting The Enemy

Chapter 5: Muckraking

I remember when I was stationed at Bastogne.
They said it was gonna be a winter wonderland, a break from four years of intense fighting. And every break we could get, we needed to take advantage of.
I remember the fluffy snow, the frigid cold. I was actually better off than most others stationed. I had Grandpa's coat, which kept me warm enough to be effective. It also helped I was more cold inclined, unlike most others stationed with me. They complained to the high heavens about how cold it was, how it was freezing their nuts off, and how they'd rather be somewhere else.
I was set up nicely in a little foxhole not as far from camp. I could hear the flag officers enjoying their heated tent, poker, and booze. The smell wafted all the way over here. That God-forbidden, fermented, disgusting smell. I'm sure you already know I hate alcohol. But that smell. That fricken smell. I wished I had set up further away.
It was still early early in the morning. Even earlier than I would wake for school, but that was not uncommon in the ARMY. And it didn't help that I pulled an all-nighter last night getting all my shit set. The sky was still dark, with maybe a few hints of a reddish-pink over the silver treetops.
A nice breath of frosty air gave way to whistling.
And then more whistling.
And more whistling.
The hairs on my arms bristled, and a shiver ran up my spine. Something was happening.
Suddenly, explosions rocked the earth, blowing my eardrums out. I collapsed into my foxhole, huddling into my hiddy-hole. The rumble of artillery and tanks grew closer until it was right on top of me. Seven guns pummeling my position!

And then the entire world lit up.

This was not the first time I had infiltrated Goldman's camp. It wasn't even the second time it was infiltrated, Moon managed to when she and Qibli rescued Grace's egg. Although, now I had to be especially careful because Goldman no doubt learned from his past mistakes.
This was a ridiculously high risk mission, so I had Grace keep running flights to recon as much as she could about the Academy.
I would be going alone.
I made sure both my Springfield and 1911 were on empty chambers, as I didn't want to trip and fall, hit the hammer, shoot myself in the leg, and simultaneously give away my position to the enemy. Of course, that would leave me at a disadvantage if and when I'm discovered, since my weapons wouldn't be instantly ready for a fight, especially in a close quarters situation.
For that, I had my freshly sharpened M1 Bayonet. I opted not to affix it to my Springfield for a makeshift spear, even though it would dramatically increase my reach. I'm invisible, and practically invincible - even for a little while after I'm discovered - so I'm not entirely worried. Just take it little by little, be patient, and wait for an opportunity.
Wait until the enemy makes a mistake.
What I was most worried about is whether or not Goldman has those enchanted sand traps that would silhouette you even if you were invisible. But thankfully, it doesn't look like he lined the perimeter of his camp with the stuff, which makes things straightforward.
After Grace dropped me off not far from Jade Mountain, still within sight and close enough I wouldn't have to walk too far.
We had counted four two-man patrols, not leaving a large window for an uncamouflaged man to slip through. But, thankfully to Travers, I only had to be sure that they would be out of earshot. Slipping past them was the easy part.
Now that I was in the camp, I had to be careful. Traps couldn't be picked up my mind-reading, and my eye was far from infallible. I had to watch every step I took.
Goldman's camp reminded me of our camp just before the siege, the only difference was that he set up his tents on the opposite side of the entrance. What made things all the better was that he had two lines of tents culminating to a single, large, ornate tent. Well that makes things simple but simultaneously dangerous. All my possible targets were all in a line, but their entrances were open to anyone looking down this ally. And it goes without saying that four guards stood at the door to Goldman's semi-permanent tent. They would see anything if I went in the usual way.
"Smart." I mumbled.
But he was still dumb enough to have the tents clearly labeled, and his records tent still separate from his main tent. While I had a feeling that the best intel was in his HQ tent, indirect information and out of date information can sometimes be just as useful.
While I would have loved to raid that first, I immediately had a bad feeling about it. The kind of bad feeling that usually means a trap or two is present. I don't know how, but sometimes I just know that there's a sniper watching, a booby trap is nearby, or an ambush is right in front of me. In that case, I error on the side of caution, and usually end up saving my life and the lives of four to fifty of my fellow soldiers.
So instead of the records tent, the tent with the hanging sign of a gun catches my eye. An armory. However, this entrence was once again in full view of the guards. So what I did was run around and found a side that was concealed from their view. Timing my actions to the roving patrols, I cut my own entrance into the cloth armory tent.
Crawling under a table, I found myself surrounded by rifle racks and a locker stocked with several boxes of ammunition. There were no tripwires that I could see or sense, and there was not the electric tingly feeling of animus magic.
I stood up to get my bearing, and that is when I spotted a weapon lying on the table I just crawled under from. A very strange weapon to the uninitiated, but so is my MKB. And like the MKB, this weapon also fills a nich that I find myself in all too often.
I carefully picked up the rifle, testing its travel. This was one of the guns made for the British commandos who need a quiet weapon. In line with the Welrod, and the suppressed Sten, the Delisle carbine fills the medium range role of being a quiet-ish weapon. Firing my own 45 ACP, it also has the smooth Lee bolt action I have grown accustomed to. I could get rapid shots off of this in a minute, if my magazine wasn't just eight rounds. While the magazines were similar to my 1911 magazines, they weren't exactly identical, and needed their own magazines. Thankfully, there were four filled magazines along with it. I took everything, shouldering the rifle and taking it along with me.
Carefully peeking outside to make sure I wouldn't get spotted coming out, I carefully made my way back out once more. Out of earshot, I prepped the weapon to fire, loading a magazine and racking the bolt.
Now that I had a bit more able firepower to me, I decided to risk it for the biscuit and try the records tent.
Skirting around, I found another side that was concealed from the guards and the patrols. Readying my bayonet, I cut my way through the second tent, before peeing inside the slit to look for any dangers. I immediately spotted a couple tripwires strung at the entrence to the tent. One at ankle level, and another more towards neck level. Clever, because you would be looking down and wouldn't necessarily be watching anything at eye level. Smart, Goldman was learning.
Although that looked like those were the only traps, and there was a table which I could climb in from underneath to gain access.
Cutting a doggy door where the table was, I found myself once again in Goldman's records. I sheathed my bayonet and started looking at the cabinets. Skimming everything over for anything that would catch my eye.
Encampments, ammo staches, troop locations, or maybe his future plans.
Although, there didn't seem to be much more than when I raided this back before all the time travel teleport business. I closed everything up and left without much more being gained.
This operation was a bust.

"Damnit." I cursed once me and Grace linked up. "I found nothing on Goldman. How was Darkstalker?"
"Well..." She swished her tail, "I um-"
"You don't have to lie Grace. I know you went and spied on them."
Grace hung her head. "Okay. I think Anemone's on their side."
"Anemone!" Oh crap. "That means they have practically four animi. We only have three, if that." I started biting my nails. Where on earth are we going to get another animus?
But then a thought rang through that made me shiver.
Why not you?
I closed my eyes and sighed. Alright, fine. No, in not going to become an animus, but if it tips the balance and makes sure we all see another sunrise, maybe then I might submit to become an animus.
Grace hummed to her victory over my stubbornness.
"Alright. Let's just get back to Travers and check in. I bet McManis is dying for an update about now."