What You Can Control
Baker
Most of the time following the attack was spent repairing the town and just sitting there, waiting and trying to figure out what to do next. For a few weeks we just sat there, cleaning up and lounging. I’m pretty sure we needed the break, but most of us weren’t in the mood for relaxing, even if it was all we had to do.
The only other thing was attending the funeral services; those of Marsh, McConnell,…and Scoots and her friends. That was also the last a saw of Twilight and her friends for a while. All the feelings radiating off of them; sadness, confusion, distrust. All of that drove me away, gave me the feeling of guilt. I couldn’t help but think that it was my fault, like if I had been there sooner, could I have done something? I was even more scared to confront them again, I didn’t even want to. When our next mission came around, I actually felt a little relieved to be getting away from them. That, more than anything, made me guilty.
October 10th
It is said that war waits for nothing and no one. You kill and are killed, act or die, mourn later or be mourned by others. This would not be the exception to the rule. It was a war through and through, and when friends die, like in every other, you finish so that more will not follow them.
For Baker and the men, it felt the same but different. The four jeeps driving down the road towards the rally point, same as always. The last in line had two new, fresh names scrawled on the side of those lost in Normandy, Marsh and McConnell. The drive was quiet, all except for a few short talks whenever they got held up from mechanical problems.
“I can’t believe they got him,” McCreary commented. “He was always so damn spry.”
“He took a bunch of ‘em with him,” Baker assured him.
“You think it was…quick, at least?”
“Not especially,” Baker answered honestly. “Sorry…I didn’t…I didn’t mean to, uh…sorry.”
The same kind of mood was shared by the crew in the other vehicles. Franky especially seemed to take it as a hard learning lesson, realizing that it could just as easily be him next. Some mature and harden over time; for Franky, it was the instant he looked into McConnell’s dead face. The only ones not thinking about that specifically was the lead jeep in the line, the one stuck in the road.
“Why did you let Jasper write that on the hood?” Friar asked in a disappointed tone, referring to the large words ‘BULLET MAGNET’ painted on the jeep.
“It was funny at the time,” Hartsock answered.
“What about now?”
“It has its moments.”
Hartsock had been trying to think on other things. He had been, more or less, successful until now. Paddock had been the only other who wasn’t, at the moment, saddened by it. Being the drive was locked in his own battle with his jeep.
“The shifter gets stuck up one more time and I’m gonna put the bitch out of her misery!”
“Red, how do you think Baker’s handling this?” Friar asked.
“The war, you mean?” Red asked back, trying to dodge the question.
“Well, with everything. Specifically with…well, with his friends dying.”
“I’ll talk to Mac about it when we get to the camp.”
“Red, you will be able to fix him, won’t you?”
“Focus on what we can control, Friar, like the war,” Hartsock replied, “and in Paddock’s case, the jeep. We moving yet, corporal?”
“Yea, I got it Red, and I know just what to do when we get there.”
The camp was nothing more than a collection of tents to launch missions from. Still, it was what they had to deal with. And the accommodations really weren’t that bad, in all. The night was actually rather peaceful, for the most part.
Hartsock had already asked Mac to sit and talk with him. He wasn’t really looking forward to it, but it was just one of those things that had to be done. Taking a seat, he went through what had happened over the past few weeks.
“So Marsh and McConnell were the only casualties?” Mac asked.
“Yeah, so far,” Hartsock said. “Can I speak freely?”
“Son, in case you ain’t noticed, this ain’t exactly headquarters,” Mac reminded him. “No need to be so polite. Ask Away.”
“It’s Baker. Something’s not right with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell him I told you any of this, but sometimes I think he’s seein’ stuff that isn’t there. He takes it all so hard, y’know?...When men die.”
“And how do you take it?” Mac asked.
“Nothing good was ever free,” Hartsock responded honestly.
“Move Friar!”
Paddock yelled at the soldier standing in front of the jeep.
“I’m just gonna drop a couple through the block and be on my merry little way,” Paddock said, waving his pistol around.
“Paddock! You are not! Shooting! The jeep!” Friar yelled, holding him back.
“I think everyone needs to get some rest,” Mac suggested to Hartsock.
“Huh, yea, I guess you’re right,” Hartsock said, stopping Mac as he walked back towards his tent. “Wait, what should I tell him? What should we do about Baker?”
“Well, I guess you’re gonna have to talk to him, Red,” Mac said simply. “You never told me anything, remember.”
October 11th
The jeeps were, once again, stuck; this time due to traffic problems at the lead of the column. The jeeps sat in the road, on a bridge, waiting to get moving again. They had already entered another small cluster of buildings, labeled as ‘Louisiana’ on the map.
Their whole purpose here was to try once again to find the guns that had struck Ponyville. Though the men had jumped at the chance for revenge, getting stuck in traffic became a problem, and the troops began to worry that their prey might evade them again. The pouring rainstorm the Griffons had set over them only added to the misery.
“How’s your hand?” Hartsock asked Paddock, trying to pass the time.
“Heh, now that’s funny comin’ from you,” Paddock chuckled, receiving a slap on the back of his head from Friar. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“It doesn’t feel like very long ago, does it?” Friar asked Hartsock.
“I don’t really notice it much, to be honest,” he answered, looking at his stub of a finger. “It seems a might selfish to get all worked up over losing a finger.”
“Where’d you put your wedding band?”
“I keep it around my neck. Erma’d send me back here on my hands and knees if I lost the damn thing.”
Zanovich, in the lead with Baker, was most upset with the conditions.
“I want five minutes with General Taylor to voice how little I like driving in columns like this,” he complained.
“Zano…what?”
“We might as well be on parade we’re so easy to pick off!”
“We’re stuck in traffic…in a war,” Holden said blankly from the back of the jeep.
“I’m just saying! Five minutes, and we don’t get stalled out every time something gets broken-”
There was a long chatter of machine gun fire that interrupted him, followed by the crack of individual rifles. The men understood what it meant, but didn’t get as excited as they had before. Quickly dismounting and moving to the front, Baker met up with Hartsock.
“Alright, let’s move through and clear out the area,” Baker said. “We have to move faster this time.”
“Rendezvous is at checkpoint eighteen, I think it’s a café,” Hartsock said, leading his men in another direction. “Don’t be late!”
The first obstacle to them was a large gazebo in the middle of a marketplace. A machine gun mounted on concrete blocks, was firing away while the rest of its circular form had sandbags to protect the supporting infantry. There were also a couple of teams of regular infantry in the left part of the marketplace, using rubble from the buildings as cover.
Baker and his men took their first cover behind one of the larger trucks that was disabled. Jasper had brought his bazooka with him, but it wouldn’t be able to go through the reinforced concrete the gun was using for cover.
“Alright, there’s a short wall that runs a little ways around that gun,” Baker observed. “I want the fire team to keep it occupied while the assault and support teams follow me along the wall to flank it.”
“Got it, firing!” Zanovich replied, his weapon already in action.
“There’s a few holes in the wall, so be careful,” Baker warned. “Assault team, keep the enemy infantry to the left occupied. Jas, follow the wall to its end and fire on the enemy troops on the gazebo. Alright…now!”
Seven men in total darted to the cover of a small stone wall, which was barely able to cover them fully. Corrion, McCreary, and Courtland stopped halfway through and began to shoot at the hostiles on the left. Tracers crisscrossed the entire market place as Baker and the bazooka team moved towards the end.
The wall led ran the length of most of the square. The final move had the danger of an opening blasted in it. The men quickly shuffled, while still crouched uncomfortably low, past it to the other side. The last one in line, Holden, was tripped by his radio and the water and fell chest first to the ground.
“Oh damn!” he yelped, quickly squirming in prone to the wall again.
“Jas, fire it!” Baker ordered.
The rocket quickly blew through the sandbag covers, and killed the Griffons protecting it. The hole revealed five other targets, which were quickly dispersed by Baker and the other’s small arms fire. With the gun silenced, the men focused their fire on the remaining enemies still in the marketplace, with Baker running up to the gazebo and getting an excellent angle to snipe them.
“Guys, form up here,” he called.
The paratroopers gathered under the structure. In random areas of the town, they could see and hear small explosions, probably some type of mortar. One distinct sound was that of a cannon firing from a short ways away.
“Hear that?” Corrion asked.
“Yea, it’s one of those guns, no doubt,” Baker replied. “The main street to it got blocked by rubble. We’ll cut through one of these buildings and get the jump on them.”
“Alright, I’m ready to finish this,” Zanovich added.
“Kill those big guns and we can go.”
Baker and his men moved through a small alley in the marketplace and stopped at its opening at what looked like the town square. Looking around the corner, he spotted several Griffons guarding one of the cannons firing at something. He wasn’t sure what, but he wanted it to stop all the same.
“Hey, I can hear ‘em inside,” McCreary said, listening to voices on the other side of a back door.
“Grenade first, then grab a window and open up on them. Jas, you guys take the second story windows and fire a rocket into the cannon’s emplacement. Zano, you guys get the bottom. Assault team, stay at this corner and make sure they don’t flank us. Move into the square to finish them when I give the word.”
The men all nodded in agreement, with Zanovich and Franky moved onto opposite sides of the door. Baker gave the signal and Zanovich kicked it in while Franky rolled the grenade inside, hearing it explode a few seconds later. The Base of Fire team moved in first, shooting two that were wounded, but still alive and holding their rifles.
Connor was the first to the stairs, and as he got to them, came face to face with a Griffon at the top who heard the commotion. Reacting faster than his enemy, Connor fired three times, letting the corpse topple down the stairs before the support team moved up. Jasper found an open window and fired his already loaded weapon into the enemy gun pit, destroying the weapon.
The remaining enemies were quick to act, finding cover and firing away at the house. The squad returned fire, but most of the Griffons were well covered and the heavy volume of return fire made accurate shots difficult.
“Corrion! Can you guys move into grenade range?” Baker asked over the noise.
“No good! Fire’s too heavy!” Corrion answered from the corner.
“What do we do, sarge?” Franky asked.
“Keep returning fire and keep them away!”
The squad did this, but most of their rounds didn’t find the target, and the enemy began to inch closer.
“Baker, do we fall back now!?” McCreary asked.
“We’ll have to if something doesn’t happen soon!”
Fortunately, something did happen. Hartsock and his men, who had worked their way around the enemy, had moved into the café on the other side of the square and started shooting at the enemy’s exposed back. With their allies beginning to fall, the Griffons began to break down and, coming under heavy fire from both sides, were wiped out quickly.
“Red!” Baker yelled from across the square.
“Hey! Guess we saved your ass again, huh!?” Hartsock yelled back.
The squad moved through the square, with Baker going to meet Hartsock inside the café. Most of the others sat outside and waited for their next orders, but since most of the area was cleared out, none were likely coming. Mortars also continued to fall sporadically, but they were ignored as just another thing of the battlefield.
“Most of it’s stale,” Hartsock observed, looking over the remaining food.
“Stale’s good enough to eat,” Friar responded, picking up a piece of bread.
“What’s the count for you?” Baker asked, entering the shop.
“We got two other guns,” Campbell replied. “If intel was solid, that’s the last of the long range cannons.”
“The revenge feels kinda empty,” Baker admitted.
“Matt, I need to…uh…say something to you. About…,” Hartsock had trouble finding the right words, but Matt understood.
“We should do this in private,” he responded.
“The men need to know what’s going on.”
“What’s going on?” Friar asked.
Baker just stood there and started at them.
“Matt, you got to admit that ever since we got here…your acting lately has…”
“Red, I’m just trying to help.”
“I know, but lately…at the funeral you didn’t even bother talking to anyone. You were actually trying to avoid Twilight and her friends!”
“I wasn’t exactly…”
“You were,” Red stated. “And, you’ve been acting odder than that; starring as if you’ve saw something, starring at your pistol,…Matt, is there something you aren’t letting us know?”
Another long silence ruled the room.
“So you’re, like, crazy, or bonkers or something?” Campbell asked.
“No, I’m fine,” Baker said sternly. “It was one thing Red!”
“Matt, for the past few weeks you’ve been stumbling around the town doing nothing!”
“I was sad, alright!” he yelled. “I…I-I just feel bad over losing Marsh and McConnell.”
“And Scootaloo, right?” Red asked.
“Yes, and?”
“Then why did it look like you didn’t give a damn about the world at the ceremony!?” Red asked.
“You’ve got no idea what-”
Baker stopped himself quick.
“I don’t know why you’re avoiding them, Matt. If you’re hiding something form them, you’d better spill it soon.”
Matt lowered his head, and was quiet again.
“If not, then just forget about them; we aren’t going to see them after any of this, anyways,” Red pointed out. “Civilians die in war, Matt; we’ve both seen it happen. Maybe, if you treated them like civies instead of always trying to be their best friend, you wouldn’t need to avoid them!”
Corrion had been sitting outside on a bench that had survived the battle, watching the men inside talk. The pouring rain and mortars didn’t really affect him that much. He was more worried about what was happening inside.
There was another small crash, and the inside of the shop exploded. Smoke flew out from the shattered windows and covered the building. It took Corrion a minute to realize what had happened.
“Mortars!” McCreary yelled.
Corrion immediately ran through the rain and into the shop. As he did so, Campbell slowly stumbled out, his hand clutching his throat. Baker was lying on the ground when Corrion saw him.
“Baker! Oh fuck! Baker, your face!” he said, seeing new, deep, long cuts. “We’re getting you out of here!”
Corrion lifted him up and helped him out of the shop.
“Red!” Baker coughed as Corrion set him down. “Where’s Red?”
Corrion ran back into the shop, past Paddock and Roselli, carrying Friar outside.
“Put him down!” Paddock yelled. “Put him down here!”
“Is he ok?” Roselli asked.
“Just put him down now!” Paddock yelled, looking at Friar’s face.
Friar wasn’t breathing or moving at all. His eyes closed, he lay there, unresponsive. The large amounts of blood that covered his face were washed off slowly by the downpour of rain.
“Look at me, Friar! Come on, man, you’re tougher than this!” he yelled, grabbing his head and turning it to him. “Look at me!”
Corrion dragged Red out, who was also not responding much.
“How bad?” McCreary asked.
“He…he ain’t breathin’. Gimme room.”
Corrion put his hands on Red’s chest while Mortars and lighting continued to fall sporadically, filling the air with noise.
“Red, I know you can hear me, Red. I need you to breath, for me,” Corrion continued to push on his chest, not getting any response. “Red, you can breathe. You just gotta try!”
“Corrion,” Courtland tried to move him back.
“He’s not dead! Don’t fucking say it!” Corrion yelled. “Breathe, goddamn it, Red! You gotta breathe!”
“Sam, we can’t do anything more!” Courtland said. “We gotta move!”
“No!” Corrion yelled. “Come on, come on! Come, on Joe!”
Still, there was no reaction.
“I said come on, Red!”
Corrion brought his fists down hard on his chest. Sure enough, Red coughed and opened his eyes. He moaned as he rolled it from side to side.
“We need to load up, and get back to an aid station,” Paddock suggested. “We’re too banged up to do anything but hurt ourselves worse.”
Roselli looked at Friar, and understood he wasn’t getting up again.
“Put Friar in the back of that-”
“I got ‘em,” Paddock assured him.
“Sorry.”
Paddock picked up the body and carried it off. Zanovich helped Baker get up and start walking. He soon straightened up.
“How capable are you right now?” Zanovich asked.
“Enough,” Baker replied.
Baker sat down and watched the scene. The men picking others up, the rain continuing to pour down, everything that was happening seemed so unreal to him. All he could do was think to himself again.
“I’ve demanded over and over, ‘take me, not them’, but no one is listening. McConnell was trying to save us-”
“And you couldn’t save me,” McConnell’s voice rang in his head.
“And Red, I don’t know if he’s even going to make it. Goddamn it. You can’t have him.”
Red’s voice now popped into his head.
“Another demand you can’t possibly back up.”
“You…can’t…have him.”
Thank you for being patient, and also for going over 101 likes! Thanks, guys!
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I actually replayed the entire game before this chapter came out.
And I totally remember this mission. This was the one where I ordered everyone to stay behind a wall while I ran around sticking satchel charges to the tanks.
Actually, it was "You never told me anything, remember?"
Is anything going to deviate from the script much?
Yet another amazing chap! Well worth the wait!
3338744 ya said it
3338471
Wasn't there a reply to this comment earlier? Where'd it go?
3339516
I dunno.
The best part about your comment right now was that I was actually in the middle of remembering Baker's final speech.
3339525
The hell with my comments vanishing...
Anyways, death wise, there will be a few deviations. Battle wise, I don't think it sticks to the script to terribly much. I will let you know that I've planned something major for it, more of an expansion than a deviation.
3339579
Well your cutscenes are pretty spot on. And battlewise... I mean, you even used the gazebo in the middle of the marketplace. Eh, whatever.
After reading this story, I actually felt bad every time Franky (accidentally) died before his plot death.
So are they going to get to the snow?
doe this mean ab didn't die?
I jus found this and. I. Am. Going. To Read. The. Mother F
king shit out of this
3526369
Go for it
I want to see a Griffon POW get the living shit beat out of him by the squad.