God's Other Mistakes: Invasion

The worst part of jumping out of a plane, in Yuri's experience, was waiting to land. This jump into hostile territory was the thirty-second in his military career. Of those, he'd been shot on the way down twenty-six times. His shoulder (number seven), always ached during drops, as if concerned for its safety. There was little risk of enemy fire today. Yuri comforted himself with these words while he waited. Even so, he was concerned, not about the drop, but about the destination.

America -Alaska, more specifically- home of the free, land of the best-equipped Armed Forces in the world. Yuri traveled to many places to fight against the enemies of Russia, many of them small countries with little in the way of military power. Invading America promised to be the highlight, and end, of his career. He understood the logic behind the orders (the alien president of America made him as uncomfortable as any other), but a better plan could have been devised than starting all-out war.

Yuri made landfall and rushed to rendezvous with the rest of the platoon.

"Is time to secure objective." said Senior Sergeant Marakov, voice crackling in Yuri's ear piece, once the last of the men arrived. "Is small town, Holy Cross, civilians. We approach from North. We do not fire upon citizens unless provoked. Casualties are to be avoided."

A full sixty men were dispatched to secure and contain Holy Cross, a small town with approximately two-hundred inhabitants. Little resistance was expected, but Yuri knew better than to think people living in such harsh wilderness would roll over without a fight. He had grown up in a similarly, small town of hunters and trappers. He expected a tough engagement.

The town itself consisted of a few dozen residential houses and a handful of stores and other industry, all situated along a single major road that ran through the small place. The town made the list of primary objectives in the first strike by being home to a major ammunition manufacturer in the state. It was crucial to ensuring Russian soldiers had plenty of munitions when the real conflict began. The residents would not want for ammo if they chose to resist, a fact Yuri had pointed out to Marakov on several occasions.

"So much for taking candy from baby eh Roshenko?" Marakov pointed to hastily-constructed barricades along the town's perimeter.

"Is handful of hunters, of what concern are they?" Confidence shone on the young soldiers face, even as he fell over with a smoking hole in his chest.

The remaining soldiers ran for whatever cover they could find, and a string of curses erupted over their ear pieces. Marakov cursed the paperwork he'd have to do because of Roshenko's death.

Yuri took aim at the barricades and sprayed the area with short staccato bursts from his AK. Return fire tore through the foliage around him as he scrambled for better cover behind a large rock. Pain shot through his leg, originating from a missing chunk of flesh just below his knee. 'After this, I retire,' Yuri resolved, jamming another clip into the magazine well.

Explosions rocked the makeshift defenses, and bodies flew through the air. Yuri saw Marakov snatching a grenade launcher out of the hands of another soldier, no doubt berating him for his eagerness to resort to explosives. While reckless, the exchange of fire ceased. What lasted only minutes claimed the lives of three and wounded seven, including Yuri. Holy Cross marked the most successful of the pacification operations across the state, in terms of least injuries sustained, anyway.

Phase One of the invasion was unquestionably a success.