SEAL "Chief" was having a helluva day. Or night. Or predawn twilight. He'd already blown up two tesla reactors, which had exploded with particularly entertaining hissing sounds and electrocuted nearby conscripts like lab rats. The war factory had been next. Apparently, even the might of Soviet industrialization was no match to several packages of well placed C4. Seals one, Soviets zero.
The power had gone offline quite a while ago, so what had remained of the base defenses were either utterly destroyed or nonfunctional due to their fatal dependence on electricty. Several idiotic tesla troopers had attempted to power up the remaining tesla towers with their portable tesla cannons, offering prime targets for SEAL snipers. All that remained were a few ragged and defeated- looking conscripts, huddling together to be picked off by SEAL fire or charging blindly towards Fatso's holding point.
Chief snapped out a pair of binoculars and inspected the clump of suspiscious- looking dots he had noticed earlier on the horizon line. Now that the sun had risen and the dots had grown bigger, he could make them out as Soviet amphibious transports. Reinforcements. Bad.
"Alright, team! Form up!" Chief called to the rest of his squad. "Enemy reinforcements are inbound and will approach the beachhead at approximately 0530. That leaves us half an hour to blow the rest of this place to hell, kill every living soul within, and get the hell outta Dodge! I'm calling for Nighthawk extraction right now. MOVE IT!"
Fatso hurriedly ducked back into the safety of the shadows and sandbags, with lead cracking around his head, hitting the back wall and making a quarter-sized holes. He reloaded his SAW as he shouted to Killjoy over the earsplitting roar of small-arms fire.
"I don't think we can hold out any longer! I'm running out of ammunition as fast as your ex-girlfriend ran out on yo- dammit!"
Fatso cursed as a bullet barreled into his shoulder with the pain of a red-hot poker. Blood started caressing down his arm in rivers, melding sluggishly in with the soil. Killjoy rushed over to Fatso's position, blind-firing around the sandbags, and took out some gauze from his pouch. He began wrapping a tourniquet roughly around Fatso's arm.
"Karma's a bitch, ain't it," yelled Killjoy wryly. "Anyway, you're right, we are running out of ammo pretty quickly, but we gotta wait for Chief and the others to finish the primary objectives, and then we can tuck tail and run!"
As if on cue, there was a deafening sound of C4 detonation, and a massive fireball went up into the sky, splattering the heavens with sloppy paintstrokes of red and orange.
"There they go!" Killjoy exclaimed as he triggered some C4 on some oil barrels, incinerating the conscripts behind them.
Matchstick smiled devishly as he tossed the C4 clacker onto the heaping pile of burning ash that stood where a building once had. He wasted no time and started heading for the fourth building; the others would take care of the third. Making his way through the maze of buildings and alleyways, he came to an opening that was suspiciously mute, with only bursts of gunfire coming from the main area of the compound. He crept cautiously to the corner of a wall and leaned out to meet head on the gleaming turret of a Rhino tank.
"Holy crap! They even have a-" the transmission cut out in Chief's headset with a brief burst of static as he exchanged fire with hostiles close to the third target.
"Matchstick? You there?! Matchstick! Come in! God-dammit!" the Chief screamed into his headset over the drone of his H&K. "Guys! We got a man down, I repeat, we got a man down. He encountered something big, so keep your eyes peeled!"
"These guys' numbers are lessening dramatically, are we really steamrolling over them that bad?" Hawk feathered the trigger of his SVD and sent a bullet into the spine of a man running for cover, severing his cervical and causing his legs to buckle out from under him. As he looked through the scope, surveying targets, he spotted a couple of tangos motioning for the others to follow, and they proceeded to duck behind the safety of the building near them, with the rest following suit- but Hawk made sure that most of them didn't escape.
"Chief! They're falling back!" Hawk yelled to the Chief.
"I know, I know! I don' t like this! Knowing the Commies, they aren't ones to give up easily. Hawk, give me your binos!"
Hawk lobbed his binoculars to the Chief. He caught them, careful not to drop them, and peered through.
"Jeez, this is getting suspicious, you wouldn't think they would have a-" Chief was cut off as the glint of steel plating caught his eye.
The turret rotated.