Max Velocity - Patriot Dawn - The Resistance Rises

The jumpmaster was holding him by his harness as the plane bucked and lurched. Jack saw some of the open parkland of the city center approaching and then the tracer fire began.

Red tracer began to arc lazily up from the ground towards the aircraft. As it got closer it appeared to speed up, an optical illusion, whipping past the open door. The sky was filled with tracer fire.

Jack looked up the plane at the stick ready to follow him out the door. He saw their pale resolute faces, some nauseous and sheened with sweat. Fear filled them, but they controlled it. They were lions.

He saw Jenny back down the stick, hanging on her static line, her eyes far away, a thousand yard stare. She had recovered from the shrapnel wounds to her legs.

He caught Caleb’s eye, stood just in front of Jenny, and grinned at him. Caleb stuck his tongue out, grinning at him. Jack grinned back, shook his head and turned back to the door.

Greater love has no man.

Just then, a burst of enemy fire peppered down the side of the aircraft. One of the paratroopers was hit, falling to the floor. The man behind him unclipped the man’s static line and dragged him to the side.

Suddenly, the aircraft lurched upward as it climbed to four hundred feet, the jump height. Jack felt the aircraft level out and then the pilot slammed on the flaps, slowing down to jump speed at around a hundred knots. The aircraft went slightly nose up and the tail dipped, making it a downhill run to the door.

The jumpmaster smacked Jacks arm down from the door and he put his hands on his reserve. Jack looked out and saw the Washington Monument, looking close enough that it seemed a real danger that the wingtip was about to clip it.

The red light in the door went off, to be replaced by the green light. The jumpmaster screamed ‘GO!” and Jack was out of the door into the slipstream.

Five hundred miles to the south, the Southern Federation artillery began firing a massive barrage and the concentrated armored spear thrust itself into the Regime lines along the narrow frontage of the I-95.

The lead element of the Southern Federation attack was an armored battle group and under the cover of the artillery barrage they rolled forward to engage the Regime defensive positions.

The battle group smashed through and the barrage rolled ahead of them up the Interstate. Through the gap in the Regime lines poured a squadron of Apache attack helicopters, seeking out targets ahead of the advance.

The Regime forces on the demarcation line initially tried to rally but then they started to fold. The Federation column began rolling north up the I-95, engaging Regime targets to the flanks of the road as they moved.

As Jack exited the aircraft, there was no sense of falling, just a buffeting in the slipstream as his parachute deployed, yanked out of its bag by the static line. He felt the risers against the back of his neck as they deployed, pushing his helmet forward on his head. Then, he was under canopy.

Jack had a couple of twists in the suspension lines and he rapidly kicked out of them, as he span he saw the aircraft flying away from him, the parachutes of his men blooming in the sky behind it, tracer fire flashing past.

Next, he looked down and the ground was coming up fast. He put his feet and knees together and slammed in, ‘oomph’, failing to conduct anything close to a regulation parachute landing fall.

Jack rolled onto his back, released the risers from his shoulders, unclipped his reserve and popped the jettison device on his daypack. He got up on one knee and as he did so there was a series of explosions from the buildings to the north side of the DZ, followed by the sonic boom as one of the Federation fast jets raced over, taking out Regime positions.

He shrugged his daypack on, grabbed his weapon, and looked around him. The jump had been on target, the sticks drifting in to land to the west of him down the north side of the Mall. He saw a couple of his men hung up in trees. They rapidly released themselves from their harnesses and climbed down their deployed reserve chutes.

As Jack assessed the situation he saw that there was enemy fire coming from the north of the DZ, from the buildings and some Humvees. He noticed that the Regime troops that he could see were wearing blue uniforms.

So the reports were true, The Leader did not trust active duty army units within DC, and had entrusted his protection to a praetorian guard of blue shirts.

The paratroopers from the other two aircraft were landing around him, the three C-130s banking off to the south past the drop zone to begin their run back south to the Federation lines.

As the Company started to recover from the jump, along the line they were getting their weapons into action. The Company was still in the open on the grassy Mall and they needed to move. The fire support platoon was closest to Jack and they got their 240s into action, hammering away at the Regime forces to the north.

As the platoons rallied, they started to put down suppressive fire and move to the north, covered by the gunners of the fire support platoon. There were some stragglers, ones who had landed in trees or into the Constitution Gardens Pond, straggling out soaking wet. Orders were to move once the elements reached seventy percent strength at the rally points, so the platoons were already moving on the objective.

This operation had to be bold to succeed, and there was no time to waste bogging down in an urban fight to the White House through the surrounding buildings. Jack got on the radio and ordered them to move rapidly north, as planned, and this spurred the platoon leaders into action.

1st Platoon began to run forward, fire and maneuvering by squads towards the ellipse. The resistance from the blue shirts was rapidly overcome. It appeared they lacked the moral or physical courage to stand in the face of determined opposition. 2nd Platoon followed 1st and soon the two platoons had eclipsed the fire support provided by the gunners so they had to cease fire.

Jack rapidly organized the Company into a classic formation at the southern end of the ellipse and they pushed north towards the White House.

Across the frontage of the ellipse 1st Platoon was on the right, 3rd Platoon was on the left, tactical HQ central and behind with 3rd Platoon following a tactical bound behind. The Fire support platoon was split with a squad to each flank and the third squad to the rear. It was a ‘two up, one back’ Company formation and they started to jog across the open ground towards the White House.

Enemy fire was light and sporadic, not effective. It seemed that at the heart of darkness, the eye of the storm, it was just a paper tiger.

The White House itself was an incongruous sight. Rather than the Stars and Stripes flying proudly above the building, it was the new Regime flag, looking entirely out of place.

When they were two hundred meters from the White House the Company encountered some effective fire and went into fire and movement, popping smoke and bounding forwards by squads.

Shortly after, there was a roar of engines and from behind the White House, to the north, rose up two Apache helicopters. The attack helicopters climbed into a hover, framing either side of the Regime flag atop the building. They fired their cannon towards the Company, who were forced to the ground, seeking cover.

Then, also from behind the building to the north, Marine One rose up along with two Chinooks. The helicopters turned and banked away, streaking away low towards the north west.

Jack screamed to engage them, but the Presidential helicopter was already gone, low over the city, followed by the two Chinooks. The Apaches were not making a serious effort to annihilate Jack’s command; they rapidly turned away and followed the other escaping helicopters, flying escort.