A tale o'war

[RN7]

RN7

By the way, ole Albion is being invaded too, so that it has to use its deadly infantry to protect its ar@e, instead of sending it around to wreak havoc in other people operations.

An invasion of Britain or/and Japan might be a more feasable proposal for your group. America would of course intervene but probably not with its nuclear forces.

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 7...Pact with the enemy

Chief Ralston was the first one to spot them from the roof of the Chase Bank that he had chosen as his personal OP. They were coming out of the woods on the southern edge of the town and pointing straight at the town. Ralston spoke in his Motorola microphone:

"Foxtrot 1 this is Whiskey Romeo over"

"Whiskey Romeo this is Foxtrot 1, go ahead over"

"I visualize three, I repeat three leg infantries in motion, not able to ID yet, but I will in a few minutes if they continue this way over"

"Roger that Whiskey Romeo, keep observing, I'm activating fire team 2; distance of the incomings over"

"About 900 yards over"

"Roger that, out"

Captain Cantatore put the mike down and tilted his head at Brigadiere Spinesi, who rushed outside along the perimeter. He reached the position of Sheriff Rogers who manned a sandbagged foxhole close to a Shell gas station. Spinesi grabbed Rogers' binoculars and scanned the hilly area south of the position:

It took a while to the NCO to identify the contacts and more or less at the same time, Ralston came again on the air:

"Foxtrot 1 this is Whiskey Romeo...I count 2 Italian BDUs, one armed with assault rifle type Beretta AR, the other one unarmed. The third element appears also unarmed, probable tank crewman uniform; I have to assume Italian as well over".

Spinesi observed the group stopping at about 500 yards, looking around and hastily trying to make their way back from where they had come from.

"Sh@t" thought the Brigadiere; "They must have spotted something they didn't like; may be the American police uniforms or something".

He rushed back into the abandoned Thai restaurant that served as tactical command post, to inform Cantatore.

"All right, Spinesi: take Rabito with you, grab the VM and go get those people for me will you" said Cantatore. "With all probability they are stragglers from the 132th. Be careful though; do not get in any friendly fire".

"That won't happen sir, I'll be sure to blow my horn strong and clear".

In less than five minutes Rabito was racing down the bumpy county road 41, entering the woods south of Brooksville; he drove the VM off road vehicle on top of a small hill, where it could be very visible and stopped. It did not take long: after just a couple of calls with the vehicle megaphone, three men acknowledged Spinesi's thick Sicilian accent, and popped out of the woods, like autumn mushrooms.

The view that presented itself in front of the two CARABINIERI was actually quite a sorry one: a trio of worn out, terrorized stragglers. Only one of them still carried his rifle. The second man, a junior Lieutenant, who theoretically should have been in command, was unarmed and his tank crew jacket was in pieces, as the rest of his uniform. The third one was just armed with a handgun; he held it with both hands as if it was his last precious possession; he had no boots, and he was walking on a couple of bare feet covered in blood. They all were in pitiful physical conditions, more tired, dirtier and more stinky than any other average soldier on duty in Go@#!amned year 2000 Florida: they were obviously in shock.

"Who is in command here, where are you from, what unit do you belong to" Brigadier Spinesi shot questions like a machinegun in perfect MP style, trying to put some order in the panicked soldiers... to no avail.

The private with the assault rifle, who looked in the best conditions among the three, answered the NCO at a speed that made the burst of Spinesi questions sound like slow speech for mentally retarded:

"We come from Masaryk Town, about 20 kilometers south of here. We were with the 132th Regiment; I mean...attached. We got attacked by thousands... millions, of crazy people coming from the fuc$#ing deepest round of hell man!! They are like locusts for Christ sake!! We couldn't maneuver the vehicles...no fuel...ammo almost at zero. We are from the cavalry platoon. We had to traverse manually...Do you believe me God in heaven! I think they are all dead down there...we couldn't maneuver the vehicles! I'm not kidding man! A CENTAURO got flipped over by the mob men...do you believe that A 20 tons vehicle flipped over by the mob, I'm telling you! I have no idea how we got out of there alive. Some guys tried to engage with their AAMG, but man; nothing could stop them...nothing, I tell you"!

"All right Private, you fu%#ing calm down now...I don't understand what you are saying if you speak so fast".

The man shut up, his scruffy haired head fell on his chest, and he started crying; then he nervously looked south like if the devil in person was about to come out of the woods.

Then, before Spinesi could articulate any more sentences, the Lieutenant, an emaciated dirty face with a tank pilot helmet and the stick of a radio microphone hanging from it without the microphone, looked at him and said:

"Are you guys stationed here"

"Yes, Brooksville just beyond the trees out there"

"Pack up your shit and rush back to the beaches, or you are all dead"

"What"

"The survivors of two cities are mounting north like a seaquake and submerging everything on their path. If they are not here yet is because most of them took the route to Spring Hill and God help Brigade HQ if they are there already. They are sick from diseases and radiation, made crazy by starvation to the point that they eat each other, and they have nothing to lose. They are hyped up by bands of hooligans, as sick and hungry as they are. Many of them are armed; the ones who are not are weapons themselves, women and children included. I heard all that four days ago from the regiment S-2. When the S-2 told me that, I had same idiotic skeptic expression you have now. When you see what I have seen, that expression of yours will be wiped out of your stupid CARABINIERE face".

Spinesi was not a man who could easily be impressed. Sixteen years in anti mafia duty in Sicily, Naples and surroundings, tended to make a man quite a Man. Still, the expression of the almost beardless Lieutenant, which by the way kept his eyes firmly locked into his after having insulted him, froze Spinesi's blood in his veins, and cooled off most of his MP pepper.

"Ok guys; let's go now, we will see how we can restore you guys and you might want to explain everything to the Commander ok Let's go; a good meal, some smokes and then we'll see what to do ok We have quite a stronghold in Brooksville. When is the last time you guys ate something..."

The stragglers climbed on the VM with no resistance, but none of them said another word. The party approached the southern prepared positions. One of the cavalrysoldiers looked at one sandbagged, guard post, and saw two American Sheriffs with stars, cowboy hat and all, manning an Italian MG 42/59, at which point turned to Spinesi, a disconcerted expression on his face; he probably thought that nothing made sense anymore in fu#@d up America, but he didn't say a word. Then the VM stopped in front of Cantatore HQ Restaurant, where Spinesi told Rabito to drive on to the medication post with the bootless Soldier (the one in the sorriest state). Spinesi then asked to the other two cavalry men to follow him, and they all dismounted from the VM to go meet the boss.

In a lateral hall that Cantatore used as his planning room, he was discussing with U.S. Navy Chief Ralston with great surprise of Lieutenant Brusi, the stragller cavalry officer; Ralston had in fact changed his civvies with a more comfortable standard American BDU, which his men had brought back from their weapons and equipment recovery trip.

Cantatore stopped what he was doing and approached the three men; Spinesi nervously spoke first:

"Sir, this is Lieutenant Brusi, from the cavalry attached to the 132th Tank Regiment, and here is Private Costa. I took the liberty to send the third man to the hospital Sir".

Cantatore gave an acknowledgment look at Spinesi, and asked about the conditions of the third man; then he concentrated himself on the new faces. Ralston stood behind, delicately avoiding mixing himself with the enemy internal business; he couldn't have understood nuts anyway.

"Lieutenant"... Cantatore switched his look between the two sorry looking newcomers ..."Costa"...he called the Private by his name and looked at both of them with a firm compassionate look... "Welcome to the CARABINIERI Company. What news from Colonel Bosio"

Brusi raised his head when he heard the name of the 132nd commander, and the reassuring warm stare of that CARABINIERI captain in spit polished dress black uniform, restored some confidence in him. Private Costa was timidly trying to smile at Cantatore. They both forgot to salute formally.

"Signor Capitano"... Brusi continued..."with all probabilities Colonel Bosio is dead unless he managed to find a way out of the mess the regiment fell in yesterday. I cannot be sure of what happened once the human sea of refugees went past my platoon. We were in SOP screening deployment south of the battle line, when we got overwhelmed by an infinite mob rolling north like an overflowing river."

Cantatore looked at Costa, to check on his body language, and then again at Brusi. Then he put up his sweetest tone:

"Are you telling me that unarmed civilians destroyed an armored regiment Lieutenant"

"I don't know what happened to the tanks Sir, but I can tell you what happened to my armored cavalry platoon". The lieutenant voice started to tremble imperceptibly.

"Please do" Cantatore pushed him

"Well, Sir...my crew and the other two CENTAUROs were all intent to observe a mounting crowd advancing at may be 500 yards from us; a dreadful view Sir. They appeared and disappeared as they went up and down hill. I probably made the mistake not to keep my observation on 360 degree"...his eyes starting to become watery ..."But you know, there was no military immediate threat, and that sorry show in front of us completely sucked up our attention I guess... you know...I mean...thousands of people coming at us. I think we were all petrified".

Brusi paused, trying to recover his composure...Cantatore stone face right in front of him.

"Then all of a sudden from the lateral wooded terrain below us, a mass of crazy people assailed us before we could do anything. We got completely surprised by these guys. Some of them were armed with fire weapons, most of them with hatchets, clubs and knives. They managed to climb on our vehicles, before we could even ready our weapons."

Tears were now running copiously from the Lieutenant face; the private kept his head down in silence.

"Sergeant Grazioli of number 3, tried to engage with the 50 cal. But it was too late. I saw him fall off the tank with an arm missing and spraying blood like a sacrificial lamb". Brusi closed his eyes then he resumed:

"I think I got saved by a platoon of the 6th Tank Company that moved on our position, I don't even know why. May be the noise, may be...I don't know. All I know is that people that were assaulting my vehicle left and threw themselves at the ARIETEs. Before I could recover, we had been reached by the mob, we had been observing in the first place. They were even crazier than the others. They flipped my CENTAURO over like if it was a car, Sir, I am not kidding. That probably saved me, because I was thrown off the vehicle and I rolled down the hill, among the trees... I...I..."

Brusi lowered his head in disgust...

"... I hid until I heard the mess faded away"

Cantatore crossed eyes with Spinesi

"I don't know what happened next, Sir. I don't know what happened to the rest of the regiment, but I can tell you that they had only two choices: massacring the entire crowd; and I don't know if they had enough ammunition for all of them Sir; or alternatively they could have locked themselves in the tanks and hope that the mob couldn't flip a 55 ton tank Sir...even so"...continued Brusi after a short thinking pause,..."I don't know what it could have happened to the soft vehicles, to the encampments, to the medication post. Fuel to maneuver Sir... none of us had enough...I don't know Sir".

Brusi didn't move his eyes from the ground and "deactivated" himself like if someone had unplugged him.

Costa looked at Cantatore for the first time since he was introduced:

"Signor Capitano..." he said..."It is killing them all, or be killed Sir".

"Ok men...you go get some rest now"...Cantatore tilted a head order to Spinesi..."We will talk again later. I will integrate you guys in one of my platoons here in town when you are all rested up and ready for action again"...Cantatore seriously doubted he could use those main again in combat, but letting them know wouldn't have helped their mental status anyway.

After the cavalry departed with Spinesi, Cantatore rejoined Chief Ralston and the platoon commander in charge of the southern portion of the perimeter. He gave a brief summary to Ralston about the report he had received from Brusi. Ralston looked sincerely impressed by what he heard and asked Cantatore if he was still intentioned to defend the civilians in town.

"Chief Petty Officer"...said Cantatore giving him an expressive look..."I think W-E should defend this town. If we find a way to stop this flooding right here and right now, may be the rest of the rural population in central Florida will be spared a tragedy that maybe we can control".

Cantatore gazed even more deeply in the Navy Seal eyes:

"Now Chief Ralston listen to me very carefully; I will ask a precise questions and I want your word that you will speak the truth even if you have to violate some protocols in sharing intelligence with the enemy".

Ralston eyes widened a little; the stare of that little Italian Captain was like a sword pointed at your throat.

" Is there any other American combat unit in the vicinity that can help us with this"

"Captain...I..."

"Mr. Ralston"...Cantatore walked right in the face of the American, or better to his neck, being an entire head shorter than him..."you want my forces to try and do this...you gotta give me all the help we can get"...Cantatore almost came out with a perfect slang pronunciation for "you have got to give me" in the emotion of the moment.

Ralston looked down at Cantatore's eyes...

"There is the...there is a National Guard Battalion...yes...the 274th...north of Hill 'N Dale in the wooded area".

"Is that all -Chief" Cantatore looking at Ralston like if the American sailor was one of the suspects he routinely interrogated in Italy for robbery or drug related crimes.

"Ten days ago, I've heard that the remnants of a Marine Brigade were headed here to try and hit you guys on the left flank, but that was uncertain. At that time, the brigade was still engaged with the frogs...excuse me, with the French somewhere between Albany and Tallahassee".

"Is there any chance that you could summon that National Guard Battalion you were talking about and have it come here"

"Sir...they will laugh in my face...that battalion is deployed against your mechanized regiment on the way to Orlando".

"May be a piece of that battalion" Cantatore pressed the American. "Think about the mess we can have here in a day or two, Chief...That mechanized battalion is going nowhere...it's out of fuel".

"I'll see what I can do capt'n...I promise".

"I will never be able to thank you enough for that Chief. I will not forget"... Cantatore shot a smile at the American, who despite his efforts not to was more and more fascinated by the personality of the diminutive Captain.

"I'm going to change into my Battle Dress Uniform, Chief...I will join you outside in a minute and we can have a look together at the master plan and to that ideal MG nest position you were talking to me about this morning. Please send one of your men to talk to the National Guard...May be we manage to pull this off without committing any mass murder in this place Sir".

Cantatore...gave a perfect military salute to Ralston and then shook his hand. He then turned on his heels and walked away.

Ralston looked at him for a couple of seconds:

"Captain Cantatore...what is it that makes you care so much about civilian...even...even foreign civilians"

Cantatore stopped and slowly turned half of his body at the massive Navy Seal:

"I command a company of CARABINIERI, Chief...we are the most patient troops in the world, with civilians".

"Three days ago one of your patrols used live ammo against civilians".

"I've heard...they tell me it was a particular contingency...immediate life threatening situation ...I also heard that some big American boys in civvies, but armed with military weaponry saved my men by gunning down all the remaining bad guys...Do you have any idea on who these heroic G.I. Joes could be"

Cantatore smiled again, and he went out the door...

Picture
Master Chief Petty Office Ralston USN Seals and Captain Cantatore examine a map of the defenses south of Brooksville.
In the background, policemen re-equipped with standard issue BDUs. First left, Lieutenant Brusi, commander of "Platoon Porcupine" in the southern part of the perimeter, Second from left, with glasses: Petty Officer Second Class Joshua Talbot USN Seals

[Graebarde]

Interesting story, and I trust your gaming group is enjoying it as well. Fine write up of the campaign, and the photos do add to the story. Whether it is 'plausible' or not I won't get into. There are thousands of things about Twilight 2000 that I had problems swallowing. Keep gaming and writing. FB

[ambrafoxtrot]

Graebarde, thank you for the kind words.

We have been profoundly inspired by a thread on rpg.net (The Stalemate War), which I think is an unbeatable example on how to role play twilight 2000. We just modified some technical aspect of the rules, that our GM thinks are too player friendly: for example the entire damage/injury/recovery system has been modified and it is now much more strict. Lario for example, will think twice before he plays "Batman" again in a riot situation.

The plausibility of the strategic situation of the campaign is not the point. It is pure fiction...like say...The walking dead. The challenge is to involve the players in the story so much, that they forget about the premises. The important thing for us is to have the characters act and react like their real counterparts would in this very unusual situation. That is what makes the campaign different and enjoyable for us.

greetings

ambrafoxtrot

Like you rightly said, we are having a lot of fun with this, and we decided to post the story to give other people the possibility to have fun with us.

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 8...Armageddon in Brooksville (subpart 1)

Lario stood in front of one of the windows of the medication post building, while he slowly and methodically put on and adjusted his combat webbing. He looked down on the street and found it pretty quiet and almost deserted. He touched the bandages on the right side of his face and head, and twisted his right arm, to reassure himself that he was ready to get out of that place.

A total of 6 days spent In that stinky hole, with all respect for its occupants, had almost driven him crazy, and at any rate it was time to get out of that fu@#ed up town, and get back on the field. He tried to concentrate on the tasks he wanted to accomplish and give them an order: he probably had to find a way to contact 11th Bersaglieri first; let them know what was going on between their section of the salient and Tampa, and then rush back to brigade, and report for a new assignment. In a corner of his mind, he toyed with the idea of having the opportunity to be merged in some kind of unit for non conventional operations again and resume the kind of job he was best trained for.

He concluded that he would probably send Goia back to 11th and then he would find a way to head west and rejoin Brigade or Corps HQ. While he finished recovering his equipment, he looked up; blue terse sky and a beautiful shining sun. Both the sun and the sky seemed not to care at all about all the craziness that was raging on the planet underneath.

He turned away from the window and the first thing he saw was Kate, as usual oblivious to her surroundings, and completely dedicated to the morning routines with her numerous patients. Without even realizing it, he paused; his left uncovered eye giving her a long and unintended stare. Lario stood there for a while, before snapping out of his trance; his mind going back to the preparation course given to the 9th assault Regiment by the psyops gurus of the military intelligence:

"Prolonged staring is socially unacceptable for the average American, especially if the object of the stare is a woman. Don't forget that one of the stereotypes that the Americans have about us, is that the Italian male is a womanizer, with scarce respect in general for the opposite sex. Therefore, on the field, you will behave at all times in a way that will discourage the above mentioned stereotype, which by the way, in your specific case, mutherfu#$ers, is not so far from objective truth"

Lario grinned inside, happy to be still able to do so, and commanded himself to look away from that prodigy of human engineering in nurse coat, assisting an aged woman victim of 1st degree burns to her chest and neck. He waited that she was done with that, meanwhile pretending to fixing and checking his equipment, and then, while she was walking out of the room, he rapidly approached her:

"Signora Bat(a)s"...Lario mispronounced her name with the best smile he could make out of his bandaged noggin, trying to summon all the English he could..."I wanted to thanke yu forr all yu dide for me. You have beenne so...so... ... nicce, is...it right".

Kate gave him the small talk blank smile:

"I really did not do all that much for you soldier...you were far from being one of the patients that needed a lot of attention. In any case, you are welcome. Please take care of yourself". She turned back and left.

Lario stood there like an idiot for a short time, wandering if he had said anything wrong, or if he had given her any reasons to think he was a womanizer. Then, disconsolate, he took the stairs down to the first floor to check out. He was given back his helmet and his weapons, and went out on the street, where he saw Goia talking with some CARABINIERI at the check point which protected the medication post area.

"Sergeant you are out" Goia left his temporary companions and trotted towards Lario who was fitting his rifle in the usual barrel down ventral position to carry it comfortably and at the same time to be able to ready it promptly.

"It looks like I am Goia...are you ready to resume business after the vacation"

"Well I guess Sarge, as long as you don't try to get me killed again, you promise"

"I do not make plans Private, I just execute them. Let's go find our blue Chevy truck, son...I need you to go back to your regiment and I need to talk to the officer in command here to see how I can get to Brigade, now that I know there is still a brigade operating around here".

Goia was about opening his mouth to respond when suddenly turned his head towards revved up vehicle noise. Lario turned that way as well, and saw three dark blue CARABINIERI VMs, the first two with troops, and the last almost empty. They were rushing south at high speed. Lario looked at them while they were passing by, kind of leaning towards them to see if he could learn more about what they were doing. The half empty vehicle stopped by the check point and a senior Brigadiere dismounted quickly and run towards the men manning the check point; antiriot equipment hanging from his body:

"You guys... you on static assignement"

"Yes Sir" answered the Appuntato commanding the post..."protection of the hospital, no matter what" Lieutenant Triano Orders".

The Brigadiere run back to his vehicle, and before he could board it, Lario was on him:

"What's going on Brigadiere"...he asked in a rush

The senior NCO looked at Lario's rag head look..."Can you fight Sergeant"

"Yes I can"

"Then get your buddy, and come with us, the wave of refugees we were waiting for has been spotted out south 15 minutes ago".

Lario looked at Goia, who went pale. He looked back at the CARABINIERE hoping that the same wasn't happening to himself:

"Goia let's go" were the only words he managed to find; and they both climbed on the VM.

The drive to the "front line" was not a long one, but still the Brigadiere managed to provide Lario and Goia with a couple of Batons and arms ballistic protection..."That's all I have... he shouted to make himself heard over the loud sound of the engine...are you going to keep your rifles"

"I guess we will"...Lario shouted back.

"You guys be aware...the engagement rules are still yellow...lethal force only in case of immediate life threat"...Goia rolled his eyes...Lario tried to force a smile on him.

The platoon convoy reached the red zone a few minutes later and Lario immediately noticed the controlled chaos typical of a battle area before the storm. Troop movements all around, quick orders shouted here and there, while different groups of soldiers reached the assigned positions. They were at the southern edge of town. The trained eyes of the 9th operator immediately started to scan for details that could acquaint him with the tactical situation: he saw spotters in multiple high point observing south, an MG nest on the roof of a three story pub; an Augusta Bell 412 helicopter flying in circles a kilometer south of town.

From his ground level position, Lario could not see the "enemy" but he was sure that it was located more or less where the helicopter was fluttering around. An entire platoon of full geared anti riot CARABINIERI was aligned across the main access road to the town; one of the squads, alongside a Blockbuster store. VM vehicles, probably mobile reserves, were taking position at far sides of the battlefield.

"Shit"...Lario thought..."They are planning to fight this like a medieval battle...God in Heaven...they are going again for a Roman Legion hand to hand close affair...these fu#$ers CARABINIERI...crazy asses".

Lario felt someone tagging on his sleeve: it was Goia, who was screaming something about Americans, and pointing at a building with a blue label..."CHASE BANK".

Lario squinted at the building and felt his blood pressure dropping: he saw two American soldiers, yes helmets and unmistakable American Camo BDU: one with a binocular set and the other with a sniper rifle also scanning the horizon south ways.

Lario grabbed the first soldier he could put his hand on and shouted to him:

"What the f#$k is going on here...there is a yank sniper team in the middle of our outfit"... and pointed at the bank building. Then he realized that he was yelling profanities at a Lieutenant and he could do no better than turning his head back and forth between the officer and the sniper team.

"They are with us Sergeant...they are Navy Seals. They are going to help us with selective fire is some of the rag tags get too hot".

"Whaaat" Lario looked at the Lieutenant open mouthed

"It's complicated to explain right now Sergeant...I m Lieutenant Frigerio"...the CARABINIERE shouted over the general noise..."where are you coming from...do you have an assignment"

"Sergeant Vailatti...9th Col. Moschin; I come from the hospital...tell me where to go".

"Are you fit to operate"...asked Frigerio looking at Lario's head.

"Yes Sir...I also have Private Goia with me here; we came all the way from Nobleton about one week ago, and were involved in the first round of riots".

"I can see that Sergeant...All right...we can certainly use a raider from the 9th...you can join platoon PRAETORIAN, three streets east of here. They are already deployed with their vehicles...quick reaction reserve...ask of Brigadiere Capo Dalamazia... tell him that Frigerio sent you two to reinforce the troop..."

"Yes Sir...right away.................Sir...how does it look"

Frigerio grimaced..."Sergeant...watch that rifle of yours...engagement is yellow".

"Yes Sir...good luck Sir"...Lario said while grabbing Goia and starting running east.


In the sunny chilly January morning, Sheriff Rogers and one of his deputies stood high on a warehouse roof with a megaphone, looking quite terrified at the crowd that was forming at the outskirts of the town; the distance between the CARABINIERI outer cordon and the mob being now a scarce half kilometer.

Petty officer second class Talbot US Navy Seals was observing the mob with his binoculars and exchanging details with his sniper Hubbard.

"Those fu#@ers" said Talbot...I can see armed people mixed up with the refugees. The armed thugs are clearly acting as instigators...look at those bastards...trying to keep the crowd compact".

"Well, it is our job to pluck the bad fishes out of the bowl Josh...and it is exactly what we are going to do if it becomes necessary".

"Look at that freaking mob Ray...Great God...I just hope that Ralston comes back in time with that fu@#ing National Guard Brigade, or battalion...or whatever it is...because leaving this huge mess in the hands of the remnants of what used to be a company of spaghetti bruisers, looks shaaaaky to me my friend".

Sheriff Rogers brought the megaphone to his mouth:

"Attention people...Please I call for your attention"...he had to scream even in the freaking megaphone to have his voice audible over the crowd noise and the helicopter flying every now and then in the vicinity.

"This town is a military outpost in a war zone manned by the Italian military. The Italian troops that occupy the town chased north all the inhabitants...there is nobody in town"...Rogers paused and licked his lips..."There is nothing here other than front line Italian heavy infantry waiting for our counteroffensive from the north...This area is about to become a high intensity battle zone in a matter of hours...The American forces heading here will be able to take care of you as soon as they conclude their offensive operations against the Italian forces that occupy this area ...please disperse and head south...you will be promptly assisted by whatever force will remain in command of this area after the combat that is about to begin...the Italian forces will shoot at sight on whoever tries to force the security perimeter of the of this military zone...There is an Italian Artillery battalion in town, which will open fire on you if you don't disperse...please comply and all troubles will be avoided...you will be taken care, separately and promptly once you disperse and the military possession of this area is clarified".

Sheriff Rogers had been instructed to repeat the message indefinitely until he could see that the crowd gave any signs to comply but he had to interrupt his "broadcast" as soon as the mob savagely started to charge with a horrifying and collective cry that more than covered the sound of the nearby loitering helicopter.


Continues...

Picture:
2nd Squad Platoon TESTUGGINE (Tortoise) Southern edge of Brooksville
January 2000

[schnickelfritz]

Excellent work! It's different and that's a good thing. Keep up the good work!

Not enough has been done in the past going into the flood of refugees out of the destroyed US cities....thanks for taking this on.

-Dave

[Graebarde]

Graebarde, thank you for the kind words.

We have been profoundly inspired by a thread on rpg.net (The Stalemate War), which I think is an unbeatable example on how to role play twilight 2000. We just modified some technical aspect of the rules, that our GM thinks are too player friendly: for example the entire damage/injury/recovery system has been modified and it is now much more strict. Lario for example, will think twice before he plays "Batman" again in a riot situation.

The plausibility of the strategic situation of the campaign is not the point. It is pure fiction...like say...The walking dead. The challenge is to involve the players in the story so much, that they forget about the premises. The important thing for us is to have the characters act and react like their real counterparts would in this very unusual situation. That is what makes the campaign different and enjoyable for us.

greetings

ambrafoxtrot

Like you rightly said, we are having a lot of fun with this, and we decided to post the story to give other people the possibility to have fun with us.

House Rules are necessary in many cases. I too think the damage, recovery need change, and have adopted the Morrow Project outline for Blood Points.. not perfect but much better than the Twilight rules. I like the realisitic aspects of the game..

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 9 Armageddon in Brooksville (subpart 2)

January 2000 Central Florida USA late afternoon

Able Seaman Raymond Hubbard cursed at the smoke clouds hovering around the "battlefield"; they prevented him from aiming with precision at the charging crowd. Hubbard's idea was to put down the armed thugs who were directing the mass of desperate people right into the CARABINIERI containment line.

In front of the seals nest, two stories below, in the street, Brigadier Dalmazia was doing his best to encourage his troops; not an easy task: Dalmazia looked at the charging crowd, some 100 more yards away, and estimated that each squad of his antiriot troops would have to deal with no less than 40 people. He saw someone was carrying melee or improvised melee weapons, which could potentially be lethal tools in an out of control confrontation. Dalmazia also saw some people armed with handguns, which made the situation completely unpredictable. He didn't understand why nobody was shooting at that crazy mass of people yet. He glanced at the first rank of his platoon and understood that his men were having very similar thoughts. Fear was clearly visible in the eyes of the CARABINIERI, behind their anti riot visors. "Platoooooon... Brace for impact...raise your shields prepare to disperse the crowd". Dalmazia shouted orders to his platoon hoping somehow that he could retain any control after the crowd hit his men. He was not convinced he could.

"Cobra...qui e' Alpha Bravo 205... informativo...la folla carica la linea principale, passo"
"Alpha...Roger passo"
Lieutenant Luigi Camagna informed Cantatore from his helicopter that the crowd was charging the containment line.

State trooper Galdrom, immediately saw that the situation was not going to lead to anything good, and started to feed an ammo belt in his Italian lent MG 42/59, while Sheriff Rogers was busy readying his radio set. "

At the same time, completely unnoticed north of Brooksville, a unit of horse mounted soldiers was approaching town. Two men riding in front were observing with binoculars. One of them was Chief Petty Officer William Ralston, and the other one was a Lieutenant Colonel of the National Guard. A Sergeant rode besides the two, with the unit radio set . The cavalry units dismounted just about near the first buildings and formed a defense perimeter, while Ralston and the brass, decided how to proceed.

Despite the scarce visibility and intermittent smoke obscuring his LOS, Hubbard tried to fix his aim on one of the armed thugs running alongside the mass of charging people, a metal jacked 7.62x51 bullet already chambered in the feeder of his M-21. Hubbard held his breath and gently squeezed the trigger. The familiar push of the recoil of the heavy rifle reverberated all along his prone body; almost a comforting feeling. The only thing Hubbard didn't like was the outcome: the head of a teenager right to the left of the thug he aimed at exploded in a burst of red and whitish liquid, while his intended target was still running.
"Godd&#*it" Hubbard, cursed out loud without even realizing it.

At the same time Cantatore slipped out of the Thai Restaurant building he was using as a command post, in order to run towards the action. He dragged with him his portable radio and his only weapon: a Beretta 92SB...in America known as M-9.

Galdrom and Rogers were finally ready to join combat if necessary. Their MG nest was placed on the left flank of the containment line at a 90 degree angle with it: was the crowd to overwhelm the containment line, they could shoot in its main body, and hopefully bottle up its impetus. Then Rogers saw a figure in the crowd going down in a pool of blood and several people stopping around it, some people fell down trying to take cover. Other people tripped on the ones that suddenly stopped causing considerable confusion in the mass.

Hubbard's M-21 barked again multiple times, the crazy crowd being now at less than 100 yards. This time the Seals Sniper did better, and one of the armed agitators had her left leg almost cut in two parts as two bullet went through it, crushing muscles and bones. A third bullet through the chest put an immediate end to her misery. On the negative side, another stray bullet maimed an unarmed man arm. He stopped on his tracks before looking at his stump and was immediately stampeded by who followed. This second carnage scene discouraged the crowd; everybody tried to take cover as best as they could. Hubbard ceased fire and swiftly and efficiently went back to an aiming stance.

Despite Ralston objections, Lt. Colonel Bell decided against warning the Italians of the presence of his unit. The occasion to take them by surprise and conquering Brooksville in the middle of the Ariete Brigade salient was too tempting not to be taken into consideration. Ralston, whose seals team was still technically surrounded by Italian troops, had to come to terms with Bell's orders, and an assault team of the 274th NG Brigade started to move from building to building after having left a small detachment to guard their mounts outside the city "walls": tactical objective, the Italian hospital site downtown.
Once more...Ralston tried to convince his superior that the Italians were engaged in trying to stop the rampage of refugees from Tampa and Petersburg and that it would have been advantageous for both party to unite forces, but Bell didn't want to listen. He would not be accused of cooperation with the enemy period. His troops would take the town and deal with the refugees from their new conquered positions.

"Sir my team is still fighting with the Italians on the southern side. When they realize what we are doing they might attack and kill my men".
"Your men ain't that easy to kill chief. We take control of downtown...then all the dagos surrender and we mop up whatever is left of the crowd.
"Sir you don't understand...I"
"It's you that don't understand Ralston...I have the occasion to disrupt the supply of the Italian expedition force right here, right now...we take this town...all they have left from here to Orlando is permanently cut off..."

Ralston stared at Bell not particularly impressed.

"You have your orders Chief Petty Officer"
"Aye Sir"...Ralston retorted, and carried out with the preparation of the movement.

On south side, Sheriff Rogers looked horrified at the scene in front of him: civilians all over the place trying to crawl in cover somewhere, women screaming trying to cover their children with their bodies; the CARABINIERI helicopter sweeping over the scene with its unbearable noise; the omnipresent smoke all around; several people down in pools of blood, motionless: all the nightmares a cop could ever imagine, bundled in single view. Desperate with mounting frustration, Rogers grabbed his megaphone once again:
"Attention people, please stay down I am going to try and summon some rescue for the injured...we need you to cease any aggressive action and to stay in place...no rescuing effort could be initiated if you do not cooperate...Attention people, please......"

-Comment by one of the players to the Game Master-:
Poor fuc*&ng Rogers...he still thinks is working in his prewar little cute town. I would tell him where to stick his damn bullhorn.

Lieutenant Brusi was on sentry duty inside the building that the CARABINIERI were using as their field hospital. Inside, lieutenant medic Farro, with the tireless help of Kate Bates, a local American nurse, was taking care of various injured people and several dying ones from the previous clashes.
Brusi was scanning the area directly in front of the building when he noticed several figures approaching, moving from cover to cover. The newcomers wore American uniforms and they did not seem to have seen him in cover behind the window.
Brusi did not hesitate...he alarmed the personnel in the building and opened up on the advancing men outside with his AR-70 assault rifle. One of the assailers went down while others managed to take cover behind a building on the right. The response from the Americans was instantaneous; from concealed positions, a series of muzzle flashes appeared and several bullets hit the wall and the window he was hiding behind. Brusi was just extremely lucky not to be hit. Instinctively he slipped in cover behind the wall, panting and cursing and hoped that the Americans didn't have a LAW. "Too many of them" was Brusi's next thought.

Screams of panic continued to hail from the mob, most of it now prone crawling away from the road. Hubbard inspecting the situation through his scope could clearly see some armed people; he even spotted several military rifles. Many people were now pinned down and showed reluctance to resume the charge. Hubbard found himself thinking it could not last forever.

Chief Ralston managed to slip through the defensive fire and to reach the external wall of the hospital building; he stuck to it and brought his MP-5 sub machinegun online aiming at the window from where the hostile was shooting. He quickly pointed his finger at a position behind him alongside the same wall and two more American began their rush from the position they occupied. The hostile appeared for a second just to direct a long burst at the assailers, and Ralston quickly double tap the window...no hope to hit the target from that position – the plan was to disturb him enough though. Master Sergeant Fiedler and Lt. Colonel Bell himself zig zagged through the bullets hail and managed to get in position behind the navy seal. At this point, Ralston thought, it was matter of storming the building. Close quarter combat.

Lieutenant Brusi realized that his resistance efforts were doomed; with only eight rounds in his AR 70 magazine and the American fire team behind the door, his choices were to be a dead hero or living prisoner. Dead hero, he thought, was good for the movies, so he limited himself to shout to medic Lieutenant Farro that the hospital was under attack by American troops, and that they probably didn't stand a chance.

Farro was tending at some wounded when he heard the firefight that was happening outside. At first he thought that the crowd of refugees had overwhelmed the defenses, but when Lieutenant Brusi informed him that a commando of American troops was assaulting the building, he realized that he had to pass the information that the hospital was under attack by American troops. He grabbed the radio that he kept always close to him, and got on the tac net:

"Qui e' November Hotel...a tutti. L'ospedale e' sotto attacco di truppe americane ...ripeto...sotto attacco di truppe americane...resistenza non possibile...mandate rinforzi...passo".

For Petty Officer Talbot and Sheriff Rogers this transmission got lost in the foreign language chatter that had been going on the Tac frequency since the beginning of the action...but for all the Italians leaders involved in the battle, it meant much more than that. Besides, Rogers was too busy trying to convince the crowd to drop their weapons and surrender to be able to even listen to his radio.

Roger's efforts were only partially rewarded, as part of the crowd listened to his pledge, but a second group did not, and resumed its charge against the CARABINIERI antiriot line which guarded the access to town.

Lario was taken by complete surprise by the news that the hospital was under attack. In a fraction of a second, images of the wounded, caught in a firefight danced in his mind, not to mention that the defense of the hospital was almost no existent. What kind of bastard could give an order to attack a hospital Lario didn't hear any answer yet on the net following Farro's communication that the building was under attack, but he assumed that an order to relieve the hospital would come soon.

Suddenly he remmbered that Kate Bates was in the hospital as well.

"Davide...put the vehicle in motion and let's rush to the hospital"...Lario ordered to private Goia
"What do you mean Sergeant Our orders are to stay here as a tactical reserve for the containment line"
"Forget it...I am giving you a direct order...Drive to the fuc*^ing hospital!"
"Sergeant...you are going to get me in trouble...I..."
"Move this vehicle...Now" Lario expression did not admit more reluctance on Goia's part.

Ralston moved along the wall of the hospital building, MP-5 stock against his shoulder, ready to drop whoever would appear in his path. The National Guard Assault team was right behind him. He quickly checked the main door, and realized that was locked and barred with furniture and other heavy objects. Without moving his cheek from his gun, he yelled to the occupants of the building:

"Surrender and come out with your hands up...we have control of downtown Brooksville. You are completely surrounded. Surrender immediately so that we can avoid any trouble for your wounded and for our civilians in the building".

Cantatore could not believe to what he heard. Who in the hell did attack his unit in the back. Farro clearly talked about American regular troops, so the only answer could be Ralston and whoever he managed to summon to come help the CARABINIERI.

"Nice help indeed" thought Cantatore while he was walking to join the containment line. He brought the mike to his mouth, his adrenaline surging at the view of the mob charging now at less than 50 yards from his men:

"November Hotel, this is Cobra: defend the hospital, but do not...repeat do not put civilian or patient lives at risk. You have permission to surrender as soon as that risk become real...I'll try to send you some reinforcements, but I can't guarantee it...over"

"Roger that Cobra...out" Farro rushed down to the first floor of the hospital, where Brusi had taken cover behind the reception desk of the hospital hall.

"Luca...the orders are not to put civilian lives at risk...I suggest we surrender the building to the Americans"

His peer was not sure about what to do...but he was down to eight bullets in the AR-70 magazine, and he and the Medic officer would be reduced to their 92s once he went winchester with the assault rifle. Moreover they did not know how many attackers they were facing.
He gave a prolonged stare at Lieutenant Farro, and came to his decision..."ok...let's do it".

continues...

Picure #1 Able Seaman Raymond Hubbard Zeroing his M-21 before the action
Picture#2 One of the VM-90s of 17th CARABINIERI coy.
Picture#3 Medic Lieutenant Giuseppe Frigerio in a prewar picture

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 10 Armageddon in Brooksville (subpart 3)


Cantatore displayed quite a degree of coolness under adverse conditions: with the mob at less than 50 yards from his position, he listened quite calmly to Larios communication that he was leaving tactical reserve to rush to the hospital. He didnt even bother to answer, no time for thatthe charging mob was too close now. The thought that putting himself right in line of containment had been a bad idea was more and more a certainty now. He would lose control of the battlebut he also understood what kind of danger his CARABINIERI faced, and that it was his job to bolster their morale with his presence. Besides, if the containment line gave, there would not have been much more of a battle to control.

20 yards behind, up on the Chase Bank building roof, Hubbard didnt have any more spare time to aimso far he had tried to shoot accurately, picking only armed people, but the crowd didnt stop. He abandoned any finesse and just let go into the mass. More targets fell squirting blood as his M-21 went off multiple times. Talbot watched horrified the fact that the mob, enraged instead of panicked, or a mix of the two, still would not stop. He couldnt find anything better than adding to the carnage with his MP-5, downing some more refugees just before they impacted the CARABINIERI line.

Lario, half body exposed out of the top hatch of the VM-90 that Goia was driving at crazy speed, found himself shouting on the radio.

oeNovember Hotelthis is Relief force coming to your rescue. Do not surrenderrepeat do not surrenderwell be there in minutes now.

Goia had an extremely hard time to race the VM downtown Brooksville, avoiding barricades, loose rubble, and occasional fires still burning from previous clashes, but he did his best to get the vehicle to the hospital as soon as possible. On the positive sidethe total absence of traffic.

While Goia struggled to keep the VM on the road, William Ralston came to the conclusion that he would indeed have to storm the building by force, to occupy it. He still didnt like the idea of oebackstabbing the CARABINIERI, but Bells orders were precise and he was a professional: he would obey those orders. Ralston slipped along the front wall of the hospital and under the window from where the Italians had previously opened fire. He gestured to Bell and Fiedler to take position on the opposite side.

oeWere going to go on threeyou guys keep behind me and cover my blind spots right and left; dont shoot at anything in front of meIll take care of that. Be aware of possible civiliansif you have to shootlook first.

The two National Guardsmen looked worried but determined to follow Ralston instructions. Even Bell looked resigned to follow Ralstons tactical leadership.

oeCobra this is Alpha Bravowe are now bingo fuel and we will head towards Hernando BeachWill come back if we can refuelGod Bless you allover and out.

oeAlpha Bravoroger that...disengage and good luckout. Cantatore looked at the Blue and white helicopter leaving Brooksville. The noise of its rotor was now matched by the screaming crowd very close to impact his defences.

Rogers did not dare to shoot on the charging crowd with a heavy MGat least not until he thought that the Italians were fried or he received a direct order to do so. Impact being imminent now, everything was in the hand of the containment line. Moments before, he even thought to go to assist that part of the crowd that stopped and accepted to lay down weapons, but he had to abandon the idea when the other half of the refugees resumed their charge.

Lario and Goia came in view of the hospital building a couple of seconds after the American fire team had forced its way in. And they really did force their way.
Lieutenant Brusi had waited a second too much to surrender to the Americans; as soon as Ralston jumped over the window, he saw him crouched behind a desk with his assault rifle pointed in his direction. Once more the double tap shooting technique proved to be efficient in close quarter combat; the first MP-5 bullet missed by a hair Brusis head, but the second one hit Brusi right in his mouth, shattering five of his teeth, and exiting from his neck, just by miracle not severing anything vital. That did not prevent Brusi to go down in shock and being incapacitated.
Lieutenant medic Farro, paralyzed by the mental shock himself, was saved by Master Sergeant Fiedler, who had rushed into Ralstons tail; Fiedler had the presence to yell at Farro to drop his weapon and raise his hands, and Farro had the presence not to force the American to repeat twice.

Cantatore, overcame any survival instinct, raised his club and threw himself in the line with his men, second apart from impact with the charging crowd. He wasnt expecting what he saw: the line broke ranks and a human wave came right at him. It turned out that the CARABINIERI in antiriot gear just did not stand the prospective of fighting a crowd for a big part armed with hatchets, knives and other improvised melee weapons, not to mention some individuals armed with handguns. Once they had a detailed view of what they were facing, the CARABINIERI turned and fled. The few that did not realize in time what their comrades were doing were caught by the crowd and died with various degree of quickness. Among these, Brigadier Dalmazia, who lost his helmet in the stampede, and had his skull crushed. Cantatore was just marginally luckier: the mob run over him without even noticing that he was there; with multiple fractures in his rib cage and various minor wounds in other parts of his body, Cantatore was just left bleeding in the street in critical conditions. In his last seconds of consciousness he wandered what he had done wrong.

Picture #1 Ralston moments before storming the hospital
Picture #2 Cantatore's men with a scared look moments before been charged by the mob

[ambrafoxtrot]

Armageddon in Brooksville (Subpart 4)

Goia came to an abrupt stop in front of the hospital blocking the VM front wheels in the process. Despite the dust raised by the sudden stop, Lario managed to glimpse inside the open building door and even though he didnt manage to examine the details, he could see things not exactly going well for the Carabinieri.

Both he and Goia jumped off the VM at once, and made the rapid dash to the external wall, praying that the occupants of the building were too busy with their own business to care about the noise they had made with their open approach.

Ralston quickly dispatched Master Sergeant Fiedler upstairs to check the situation, while covering Lt. Frigerio who was being packed up by Lieutenant Colonel Bell.

Surely but carefully Fiedler got up to the first floor, assault rifle on the ready, just to discover that there were no hostiles up there; all he found was a nurse trying to protect the wounded and the patients in their beds. The two exchanged a look before Fiedler went on with his floor inspection.

Lario had just noticed that one of the Americans inside had turned around and noticed the VM outside, in the middle of the street, doors opened and engine still running. The American started to walk towards one of the windows once he assured himself that Frigerio was under control.

oeNo time to waste though Lario while staring anxiously at Goia.

Lario and Goia looked at each other with an expression of mutual understanding on their blackened faces.

oeTo my threeOneTwoGo! Lario said with no hesitation.

Ralston turned his head to check the situation and noticed a detail in the street that wasnt there when they run their attack at the hospital; an Italian vehicle in the open space between it and the little fountain in the square. He was cautiously approaching the closest window to check the situation, when from the main door a figure materialized in front of him. Before he could even think about a reaction, the barrel in front of the figure flashed and that was the last thing that his brain registered in his lifetime.

Lario dropped the first Yankee with two precise shots from his M-16, both landing in the mans chest, and then leveled his weapon on the other American who occupied the main room. Before he could finish the movement with his rifle, the man had already raised his hands. He looked on his right and understood why; Goia was right there, with his AR-70 already leveled at the head of the enemy soldier. Lario whispered to Goia to keep the American under control.

Goia limited himself to put his left finger on his mouth perpendicularly, using his right arm to keep his weapon online; a suggestion that the prisoner followed without discussions.

Promptly Frigerio walked towards Lario and informed him that the last member of the American team was upstairs, and that two more had been killed during the attack. The Italians had one casualty as well.

Lario pointed at Goia and then turned his finger towards the prisoner. Then pointed at himself and raised the finger up; he would go upstairs and clear the floor while Goia kept the American under control.

Lario approached the staircase and carefully started to climb, his M-16 aimed right ahead. Before Lario could reach the top of the stairs though, things went south.

Exploiting a moment of distraction by Goia, who was trying to untie Frigerios hands, Lt. Col. Bell tackled Goia at the same time screaming a warning for Fiedler upstairs.

Fiedler rushed back towards the staircase but too late. He found Lario waiting for him and got a bullet in his left arm, which made him drop his weapon and go down in pain and shock. Kate screamed and ducked under a table; at the same time Goia , who had himself dropped his AR-70 from the impact with Bell, tried to block him, but to no avail. The American managed to break free and flee away. Goia did not chase him, worried about what could have happened on the first floor.

Quickly Lario checked on the American lying on the floor, noticing that he was alive, unconscious, and copiously bleeding from his arm. He crossed eyes with Kate, still under the desk. He put aside his weapon and extended an arm towards the woman.

oeIts okey misss. All finishdno mor problemsall finishd.

Kate exploded at once, as if she couldnt keep cool anymore after what had probably been weeks and weeks of prolonged stress.

oeYou go to hell bastard !!...this is a hospital !! You could have provoked a disaster. What gives you the right she turned her head away in the attempt to hide the full extent of her emotions to the Italian.

Lario understood may be 5% of what the woman said and that was good for his spirit, as he mistakenly thought that she was probably just scared to death. He threw his M-16 behind his back and approached Kate. He tried to hug her in the attempt to comfort her, and being very careful not to give any other impression. Kate did not openly oppose him, but she retracted, clearly making Lario understand that she did not like him or the situation he brought there.

At the Same time Goia cautiously peeked above the railing calling for Lario. oeYou ok sarge is everything ok up there

oeCome on up Davidethe floor is clear Lario turned his head towards his mateAre the Carabiniere and the Yank ok downstairs

Picture: Kate doing her job

[ambrafoxtrot]

Part 11 Plans

"Gone...What do you mean gone" Asked Lario.

"I'm sorry Sir...while you were clearing the first floor, the American officer surprised us. I tried to block him, but he managed to escape." Goia paused for a second..."I wouldn't be too worried sergeant considering the situation out there, I don't think he has many chances to survive anyway."

"I'm not concerned with that Goia...not at all...but the man could have provided useful intelligence for us about what is going on around here."

Goia lowered his eyes to the floor in discomfort but didn't sayanything.

"It's done by now...let's concentrate on what we have to do next to try and stay alive. This place is starting to stink too much Davide. We have to leave this miserable hole and put ourselves in motion. Our safety rests on our capability to move, until we get back to battalion...you know what I mean...a disciplined body of troops, with heavy weapons and all that."

Lario looked past Goia outside the building and with relieve he noticed that the VM was still where they had left it. Quickly he run to it and got on the company radio net. He didn't have any call sign or knowledge of the Carabinieri radio procedures; nevertheless he tried to see if he could contact anybody... to no avail.

Having failed to contact anybody Lario briefly stopped to think...and as much as he tried to, he didn't manage to find a single positive aspect in the situation. After having pndered options for a while, he looked to the first floor windows; he rushed back in the building flew up the stairs and found Kate taking care of Master Sergeant Fiedler' arm, as usual oblivious to anything else. She had managed to stop the bleeding and to treat the shock, but the 5.56 bullet had badly fractured ulna and radio and Kate thought that Fiedler needed surgery to be patched up properly.

Lario observed her silently for a minute and then snapped into action:
In his rudimentary English he tried to explain her that they had to evacuate the site and leave town before the mob could get to them. He proposed to use the APC to move the transportable patients.

"We have only one movable patient here plus this man you have just injured" said Kate horrified by the thought of abandoning the hospital. "All the others, Americans and Italians cannot be moved without grave risks for their lives. Besides, there is no way that we can move them with only one vehicle."

Lario didn't get all of that, but understood that Kate didn't want to leave the wounded to their destiny. He called for Lt. Frigerio to help him with Kate, and when she saw Frigerio coming up, she looked at both Italians firmly..."If you are men and soldiers, you will defend this hospital and its occupants. You are responsible for this place." Lario for once understood most of what the woman said, rolled his eyes and walked away in frustration. Then he looked at Frigerio:

"Sir we'll all die in this building if we don't get out of here...your company his finished...nobody answers to any radio calls. The mob coming from Tampa and S. Petersburg has probably killed everybody who tried to stop them from raiding the city. We'll be next if we stay here."

Frigerio said nothing, and turned back to Kate. She informed him that Fiedler would need him to operate on his arm, before he risked losing it, at which request Frigerio snapped in frustration as well. He refused to use any precious medical supply to set up instant surgery on Fiedler's arm, and told the nurse that they would not have the time to do that anyway. Disappointed, he walked away from Kate and passing by Lario once more, before heading back downstairs, told him to collect any spare weapons and to set up a defense position.

Lario looked at the Medical officer going downstairs with disapprobation, then he pondered if it was the case of putting a bullet in the back of that crazy Medic ass and go on with what was the most logical thing to do. Disgusted with himself, he turned at Kate, then looked all around himself; the dirty building, the wounded Carabinieri and civilians, some of them awake and looking at him, some others sleeping or sedated. For a second he didn't know anymore where he was. The place smelled horribly; a mixture of medical product and rotten body parts or something like that. It was difficult to believe that that place was in the United States of America; Beirut, Mogadishu may be...but not the US.

Lario snapped out of his trance, sat down on the floor and thought for some minutes. Then he walked back to Kate, who was tending at a young woman in some kind of pain, and tried to put together all the English he could muster:

"Verry welll Kate. We have work to do. I will take inside the truck...you put the people in it we can move, and in it all the medicines. We take down...in the...the...(Lario could not think about basement)... underground all the wounded... then we fight if we have to fight. If things become bad...we enter the vehicle and run." Lario paused for a couple of seconds and looked at Kate. "If we must go ...you come ...uh...no matter what."

Kate said nothing about the last sentence, and limited herself to start gathering all the (few) medical supplies left in one place.

While Kate was busy with that task, Lario went down and updated the party about his plans. He asked everybody to help him move the wounded in the basement. It was a labor of patience and care, especially with the ones in worst conditions. Then they gathered all the weapons and ammunitions left, and Lario assigned defense positions. Lario and Goia would check the three exposed sides of the building and give the alarm in case hostiles approached. Frigerio would intervene as tactical reserve if one side got more threatened than the other. Lario redistributed one of the two Assault rifles left by Bell and Fiedler to Frigerio, kept the other in reserve, and put aside the MP5 taken away from Ralston, with the intention of giving it to Kate as a last resort personal defense. A lighter weapon he thought; one that an unskilled person could use better than a full military assault rifle. He also pondered whether to give Kate his own M-9 as a last, last resort weapon.

They worked for something like an hour, praying that nobody would approach the hospital before they were done, and after they moved all the people and organized all positions, Lario went for the last piece of the show: he ordered outside everybody not in the basement, got himself into the VM and tried to enlarge the main hospital doors by ramming them, with the aim of getting the vehicle inside. It took three attempts, before the door structure and the wall beside it gave in, with the added bonus that the building didn't collapse. On the negative side, the front of the vehicle was so battered, that Lario didn't know if it would ever start again. He sealed the hole in the walls with the vehicle back and had the movable wounded (Fiedler and an American civilian teenager) into VM through the left lateral door. To the young man, Lario gave Lt. Frigerio's handgun and told him that he might ask him to fight. Fiedler on the other hand was too much beaten to be of any use, so Lario asked him to stay in the VM and wait.
All that done, Lario gathered all the personnel and explained again what the defense plan were. On that matter, Lt. Frigerio gladly let Lario decide.

Picture:
Brooksville Alamo hospital before Lario modified it with the VM

[kcdusk]

WoW! Long write up, give me some time to read all this before i put some comments down.

[Muti]

This work is really well written. I also notice that for Cantatore you use the picture of a real Capitano of Carabinieri (the ranks on his shoulders are correct).

Just for information, the Capitano in your picture is Gianluigi Di Pilato from Compagnia Ventimiglia recently transferred to Compagnia Forl-Cesena.

[ambrafoxtrot]

Muti
Thanks for the nice words.

I've been interested in the Carabinieri since 9th of June 2009, when the director of CIA said: "You really are the best at what you do".

[ambrafoxtrot]

kcdusk

Take your time and welcome on board