~Part 5~
Actionable Intel
In the stillness of the night, we were all torn from our peaceful slumber by a harsh screaming noise that sounded like a 747 coming in to land directly over head. This noise was then interrupted by an ear piercing explosion in the distance. Our small encampment began to flash as many smaller pops could be heard. We ran to the edge of the forest to see what the Koreans were doing this time. We peered out around leaves and tree branches, only to find the intense luminosity of a bright orange inferno throughout Ponyville. An AC-130U soared overhead, its GAU-12 Equaliser ablaze, firing armageddon flames down upon the town. Every five or so seconds, we could hear deafening pop of the gunship’s 105 MM howitzer followed by the screeching once again, and ending with a large plume of smoke and fire rising from the town below. We gazed unto the scene with terror as we watched the small population being massacred. We had seen enough, so we went back to the camp, and by the light of the darkest night, we packed up and ventured deeper into the Everfree Forest.
Rainbow had been cold out throughout the fiery blitz, and she would continue to be for another 3 hours, thanks to the intensity of the tranquiliser. We carried her, our gear, and John’s gear at least 30 kilometres deeper into the forest. It was 9 in the morning when we had arrived at a small stream where we decided we would make up camp, and although she had been awake for hours, Rainbow was still a bit dazed and could not speak straight, so we continued to carry her to our destination. We set up the device to allow John to return when he was ready, and covered it with a ghillie tarp that Mark had in his bag to hide its reflective metallic surface from the sun. We camped about 15 metres from the river, so we were protected by the overgrowth of the trees. For the remainder of that day, we rested from our long hike.
We told Rainbow of what had happened to the town, and how we barely expected anyone to come out alive. When she heard this, she flew off immediately in the direction of Ponyville. Assuming she could handle herself, Martin, Mark and I proceeded to spend time preparing a new plan, should anything else go awry. We had decided that staying out of the fight would be best, and letting the North Koreans and the Equestrians have at each other. Besides, what could three operatives, alone, with little weapons, stuck without backup in the middle of a forest do anyway?
Evidently, it was that question that ultimately turned things around for us. We feared that if John didn’t arrive with support soon, we wouldn’t be able to go home. We decided that it would be in our best interests to see what this war had in store, and act upon it accordingly. This is where all of Mark’s ghillie-gear came in. We would wait by the side of the trail that Martin and I had scouted earlier and ambush any North Koreans that passed by with the hope of gathering intel.
* * * * *
As the sun set, Martin and I could see lights ahead on the trail. As the lights grew increasingly closer, we counted the number of soldiers. It was a patrol of 5 North Koreans, armed with AN-94’s and 40 millimetre grenade launchers. I listened to them talk. I had learned Korean while I was stationed in Seoul prior to the War, and I had become practically fluent. They spoke of the attack on Ponyville, and how they believed what they did was necessary because of a threat that was nestled in the town. They began cracking jokes, and as they passed us, they slowly ceased their laughing. They were as unsuspecting as ever.
Martin tossed a flashbang into their midst. “CRACK!” The flashbang went off, stunning three of them. The other two started yelling and looking around them. They had to wait for their night vision goggles to power up so they could see us. Martin and I came up behind the two un-stunned soldiers before they could react to us being there. Martin planted his knife in the soldier’s neck, and my blade entered the other’s heart. The two we killed were shouting, so the others started shooting in our direction. The near-dead soldiers acted as shields to protect us from their bullets. As the other soldiers regained their vision, they charged us with bayonets. Martin was quick to push aside the attacker’s extending weapon and end him with a quick strike between the eyes. The other two came after me. I dodged the first’s bayonet, only to find myself face-to-face with the other. Martin saw the impending danger I was in, so he threw his knife into that soldier’s torso, splitting two ribs apart and forcing the guard to fall over in excruciating pain. The other came behind me with a finishing move- or so he thought. I turned just enough to see him with my peripheral vision, and, in one motion, spun quickly to the left plowing my 20 centimetre blade into his back, severing his spinal cord just as his bayonet grounded itself in the back of his ally’s neck, as that soldier was bent over trying to free Martin’s knife from his ribs. We quickly evicted the area, leaving the four bodies lying in the mud with a note pinned to the first victim’s back. The note read “따뜻한 크리스마스 소식! 감사합니다, 미국” or “Warm Christmas tidings! Sincerely, The United States.” Martin felt it was unnecessary, but I thought it added just the right touch.
We returned to our new camp by the river with a backpack full of what might be actionable intel. We acquired an enemy radio, so we could tap in and listen to their comms without their knowledge. We had maps, a GPS, and images. Mark was somewhat impressed. The maps and images came from a briefing folder, something that one should not be carrying on a patrol. That soldier’s negligence gave a phantom enemy an upper hand. Phantom. We liked that word. It perfectly described how we were operating. Get in, stop the enemies, and leave. All before anyone could comprehend what was happening.
Back on Earth, when we gathered intel, it was usually analysts who looked it over and gathered the information, but here, it was just us. We sat around for days reading over the documents and making sure we had all the information right. It took even longer than it should have, but all the writing was it Korean. We wrote all the information that we thought was valuable. The rest, we checked over to ensure that it was not important, discarded it in our campfire. Some of the pieces of intel were USB drives, and we could not access what was on them until we had a computer. That was to become our next objective. Luckily, thanks to the maps we acquired, we found that there were multiple enemy camps within 10 kilometres of our encampment. The maps indicated the size of the camps and the patrol routes around them. It was as if they wanted their enemies to learn about their patrol routes.
As we prepared to depart for the smallest enemy camp, Rainbow returned, blood sprinkled on her mane and coat. She limped towards us and passed out, groaning as she fell. Mark and I dropped our gear and ran toward her. There was a large, bloody gash in her front left leg. Mark tossed a first aid kit to me, and I began treating the wound, disinfecting it and wrapping the it in gauze. Although she was cold out in the dirt, she twitched whenever I tightened the wrapping. As I tied up the gauze, I wondered what the hell she was doing to get so badly wounded. There was a lot of blood on her hooves, blood that was most likely not hers. She now lay in a pool of her own blood, however, as she had another wound on her right side, which she had fallen on. We wrapped that up too, and finally left her leaning against a nearby tree, ghillie wrap concealing her brightly coloured mane. I left my water bottle within reach, and we set out.
It was just before sundown that we neared the North Korean camp. We crept up behind a 2 man patrol and slit their throats. After hiding their bodies in the bushes, we moved on to the camp. It was, indeed, a small camp. Three tents, only 4 guards sitting around a fire. Martin and I set up a tactic. He would attract their attention, and I would be on the other side of the camp and take them out. When we were in position, he snapped a fairly large twig, and two of the guards rose, bayonets pointed forward, and left to investigate. Martin silenced the two of them while I came up behind the others and did away with them. We began looking around the camp, when we heard a yell. “Geojismal!” ("Lies!"). Our attentions turned to the largest tent in the camp. We silently moved towards the entrance and drew our combat knives. I looked through a crack in the door flaps, only to see a North Korean officer running the point of a karambit down the cheek of a navy blue pony bound to a chair. The officer flicked his knife, creating a small cut. She glared at him through bright-teal eyes.
“You cannot kill me.” She said, with an immense amount of anger in her voice.
The officer laughed for a moment before returning to a stern face. “Why don’t you try me?” He responded slowly. He had a very thick accent, and he could, clearly, barely speak English. The dark blue pony’s horn began to glow. Seeing this, the officer grasped her throat and attempted to thrust the karambit blade into her torso. Before he could, however, Martin and I burst through the door flaps and threw our knives at the Koreans. Mine (of course) struck the officer in the neck, taking him to the floor. But the hilt of Martin’s knife hit the other guard in the shoulder. He shouldered his gun to fire, but before he could, I charged him, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him onto the barrel of my 1911. I fired two shots into his gut, and he dropped.
Martin and I retrieved our knives and cut the pony free. We told her to stick close to us, as we were just going to take a minute to look around and gather more intel. She could not go on alone; not in the condition she was in. She had cuts all around her body, her wings especially wounded. That was what came as a surprise to me. I had never seen a pony with wings and a horn. Martin had only seen one, their leader, Princess Celestia, and that was before the humans were “a threat to their way of living.” When we began working our way back to the camp, she introduced herself. Princess Luna, the sister of Celestia. Luckily for us, unlike sister, she could tell the difference between us and the North Koreans, so she did not immediately try to kill us. She explained that she knew that there were the humans who recklessly killed the civilian ponies, and that there were also the humans that only killed the ones who tried to kill them. She told how she knew we were the latter.
When we arrived back at our camp by the river, we found that Rainbow Dash had awoken after she passed out from blood loss. She now slept peacefully by a different tree. Since Mark had stayed back to guard the camp, he helped her and kept her alive. He stopped the bleeding, replaced the bandages, and cleaned the wounds every half hour. He helped her clean off the blood by the river, and he even cleared out the blood-soaked dirt. When we arrived, he lay by the river’s edge staring at the stars. We introduced him to Luna, and he helped us dress and treat her wounds. Although small, there were many. We decided that we would rest until daylight before planning out the days ahead.
And yes, we did get the computer.