After that decisive combat, we arrived at the HQ. The captive was awake. The captain climbed out of the jeep, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him straight to an interrogation room. We, on the other hand, went to the dorms, bathed, and tried to relax.
"How's your shoulder, Valkin?" I asked as I sat beside him.
"It is better, but it still hurts," he grunted.
"Rest, you'll be fine."
Later, the captain came in and sat down, wiping his hands with a cloth. He looked exhausted.
"He isn't talking," he said. "This could take longer than we thought. Ferry. Martin. There's a new mission." He paused. "Two kilometers southeast, the air force is setting up a defense grid and a drone station. You two will go and provide support."
We nodded but didn't move. We were tired and wanted more rest. The captain stared at us.
"Get up. Now," he ordered.
"We just got back," Ferry protested.
"This is war. There's no time to rest." He didn't ask twice.
Reluctantly, we grabbed our gear. The captain handed over a map with the location marked. We walked, slow and stiff at first, until the captain barked and we picked up the pace.
"I wanted to sleep," Ferry complained.
"Too bad. It's war," I said. I was annoyed, but I knew he was right—there was no choice.
Ten minutes later, we reached the site. Soldiers were installing defenses, tuning radars, and technicians were fussing at the drone station. We reported to the sergeant in charge.
"You're just in time," he said. "Enemy drones could be scouting. Climb that hill and take them down."
Ferry sighed and launched his thermal drone. I fitted a thermal sight and suppressor to my Dragunov and waited. Ten minutes passed with nothing. Noon's heat made spotting easier, so we kept scanning. Then Ferry froze. I saw a flash—a drone.
"Hostile drone," Ferry said. I aimed, squeezed the trigger, and watched it fall.
"One drone down," I reported to the sergeant.
"Good work. The defences and station are ready. Return to base."
Our job was done. We walked back lazily, reported to the captain, and returned to the dorms—where the others were asleep.
"This isn't fair," Ferry grumbled.
"It's fifteen past three. Plenty of time," I said, and threw myself on the bed. My legs felt like they might fall off. I slept the kind of sleep that comes from bone-deep exhaustion.
An hour before sunset, Narkit—the neighbor who once caught me messing around—banged on the door. I shot up in surprise. He was real and in uniform.
"You didn't see this coming, did you?" he said with a grin.
"Nope," I said, and hugged him. "What are you doing here?"
Called from the capital. Heard about you and your squad. You did well." He laughed.
Outside, the camp buzzed louder than usual. Soldiers running, cargo arriving. Something big was happening. Knowing where the captain was, I went to him.
In the interrogation room, I heard a gunshot. The captain burst out, tense and furious, barking orders to the sergeants.
"Inform all majors and the colonel. Get them to operations—now!"
"Captain Tyrnik!" I ran to him. "What happened?"
"Martin. The captive talked. They're sending a massive force along the eastern rail toward Egnisk. A long train—dozens of TTCs, maybe two or three battalions. If it reaches the town, we're finished." His voice was tight.
Captain Pierson came running up, breathless. "Martin! Tyrnik!"
"Pierson," Tyrnik said, relieved. "Good to see you."
"Colonel Yornus is here as well," Pierson added. "This is going to be hell."
"Prepare your squad," Tyrnik said. "I'll give plans after the briefing."
"You want me to lead?" I asked, stunned.
"They made you leader," Pierson said. "I heard what you did. You exceeded expectations." He clapped my shoulder and left with Tyrnik.
Back at the dorms, gear was already being distributed. Narkit had joined our squad.
"Take your rifle," Ferry said, handing me the SVD. "No time to explain."
In fifteen minutes, we were ready. Narkit admired the SVD. "Nice piece," he said. I thanked him, and we headed to the central grounds. Soldiers packed the place—boys and men, all braced.
Soon, Tyrnik and Pierson arrived and unrolled a map before us. "Listen up," Tyrnik called. "Intel confirms the captive's report. A thirty-trailer train is coming—twenty TTCs and ten cabins. We must stop it mid-route."
"Pierson, your squad will be on the ground twenty meters off the rail," Tyrnik continued. "Narkit, you and your squad take the hill and target the TTCs from above. Ferry, you will join the drone station and attack via kamikazes. Martin, you're with Pierson."
"And you?" I asked.
"I'll be in the forest with the ARK. I'll blow the train's engine—see if those tanks are tanks at all." He looked at us, grim. "This mission is a top priority. No compromises. If we fail, the country falls. Show me what you've got."
"Yes, sir!" we shouted.
"Load up. Trucks are moving now—go! Go! Go!" Tyrnik rolled up the map, and we sprinted for the trucks.
"You be careful," Ferry said, bumping fists.
"You too," I replied.
This was going to be the most decisive ground assault of the war. Hell opened its mouth—and we were about to jump in.
Minutes after sunset, under a thin night sky, we rolled toward the ambush point. My chest hammered. Everyone was tense. None spoke.
"Sir, didn't you say the ARK will break a shoulder or rip it off?" Valkin asked Tyrnik nervously.
"Valkin… I am not a child." Tyrnik stared him down. "Listen. This is do-or-die. I'll be thirty meters from the track at the Dantelov curve. I'll target the engine. The ARK has brute force—it can pierce through five or six cabins if the engine's armored. Once it stops, open fire and don't hesitate."
"Sir, it's loud. What about noise?" I asked.
"It's fitted with a suppressor. My position may be revealed. But, don't worry."
After a bumpy, nervous ride, we reached the curve.
Tyrnik ordered, "Take positions! The enemy arrives in twenty minutes."
We slipped into the trees. Barnett climbed the hill to watch. Time crawled. My heart drummed so loud I thought the enemy could hear it.
"Enemy train in ten minutes," Barnett whispered on the radio.
Those ten minutes were the fastest of my life.
"Two minutes," she updated.
A thunderous crack split the night—the ARK fired. The captain's shot punched into the engine and slammed through six cabins. Then everything went wrong. Cabins behind the engine blew apart. Which was not supposed to happen.
"It's an ambush!" Barnett yelled. "Soldiers are pouring out of the wagons in the back!"
The ground sang before the TTC appeared — a low, metallic thrum that rolled like thunder across the plain. It rose over the ridge like a dark beast: angular hull, barrel leveled, black paint glossed with dust. Heat shimmered above its turret like a mirage. For a second, the world seemed to shrink to the length of its cannon. Then the cannon barked, and the air ripped open—smoke, burning oil, the smell of singed iron.
Ferry's drones screamed into action. We'd been baited.
Narkit's squad rained fire with the BTR-204.
"Pierson, inform HQ and the defense battalion in Egnisk!" Tyrnik ordered.
They were too many of them. What should've been twenty enemy troops looked like sixty. Night swallowed sight; all we saw were muzzle flashes and tracer streaks. We fired into the black and hoped. Then the ARK boomed again—this time taking out two TTCs.
"Two down," Barnett shouted. Tyrnik called for repositioning.
A distant TTC rolled up the slope and hit Narkit's position. "One down!" came Narkit's voice. "We're coming down. The hill is unsafe!"
Bullets stitched the air. The TTC's machine guns swept the sky, cracking around us. Barnett's voice cut through: "Ferry, they're targeting the drones!"
"I'm on it!" Ferry shouted.
In that instance, a TTC fired. The shell went through the chaos and hit right where Captain Tyrnik was.
"CAPTAIN!" I screamed.
"TYRNIK!" Pierson shouted his name.
"Keep firing!" came the order.
Tyrnik's voice answered. "I'm hit. Something's in my gut. I can't use the ARK." He coughed. "We need to do something!"
"Stay where you are! We'll handle it," Pierson said.
A soldier charged my side. The SMG slipped out of my hands in the scuffle. I grabbed the old knife Malkin once carried. He lunged— I kicked at his ankles, he dropped, and then I slit his throat. Blood on the blade, blood on my hands. I stood, grabbed the SMG, and continued the assault.
"Do something!" Valkin yelled.
"Where's Ferry?" Alfred demanded.
"We're coming," came Ferry's laugh over the comms.
"WE?" I frowned.
"Yes, Martin, WE" Ferry replied.
I looked up and my stomach dropped—not five drones, not ten, but hundreds. A swarm flooded the sky. Drones dove and detonated; the battlefield lit up with new explosions. Ferry wasn't alone; the entire squad of drone controllers was with him.
A single dive and then a blast—after blast—every strike killing men and machines.
"Everyone, fall back!" Pierson shouted to avoid the falling metal.
Within minutes, the sky filled with fire; the drones detonated themselves, and everything under them was ash. Survivors crawled, others lay still.
"The TTCs at the rear are rushing towards the town!" Barnett reported.
"They're too fast," Ferry panted. "I can't stop them."
We had to move.
"Barnett, Valkin, Alfred, Narkit. We are going after them!" I ordered.
"Martin, it's dangerous," Pierson said.
"Losing Egnisk is more dangerous!" I shot back. "We don't have time."
"Okay…Be careful."
"Let's go!" I pushed.
We ran after them, into the night. Either we stop them, or they crush us. Now or never.
This was a moment not to be ignored; we knew what was going to happen. I knew it was risky, dangerous, and deadly. But this is what we signed up for. I am not going to lose just because I am 15.
I gambled the lives of my comrades because I knew that we would win!