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Old 05-31-2009, 03:53 PM
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Red Alert 2 - This is War
A story I was had begun writing which would later be followed up by 5 more. Had abandoned it a long while back but recently picked it up again.

Here is the Intro to it:



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The monotone hum of the hovercraft’s engine lulled its passenger into a near deep sleep. Sadly it wasn’t near enough. The sudden crashing of waves alongside the hull tossed the sole occupant from side to side – if he weren’t so steady on his two feet he’d have been bouncing off the walls, and in some cases from ceiling to floor. The weather forecast had predicted a decent outlook on the day, but something was raining down beside the ship.


The next moment, the unmistakable crunch of the inflated rubber climbing up on to a jetty rang out. The amphibious transport gradually came to a halt and, judging by the few portholes, it was someplace between two tall office buildings. With a hiss the door began to open, allowing light to flood through. The passenger blinked, sheltering his eyes with his arm. Stepping outside he took in his surroundings for the first time. The impact of the rolling landscape before him twisted his stomach into knots. It was all ruins – nothing but acres upon acres of ruins. Structures were barely holding themselves up; streets and parks were the victims of intense bombardments and massive slaughters. This was not the Washington DC he had seen in brochures.


He spun round to the skipper of the vessel that had brought him to this brutalized land. ‘What the hell’s happened here?!’ He shouted.


‘War sir!’ Came the reply, as if it wasn’t any more obvious.


Just then, six shells whined over the passenger’s head and hammered into the side of the transport vehicle, obliterating it. The blast knocked the recent arrival on to his back. As he picked himself up and glanced at the smouldering wreckage he concluded he ought to be someplace else. The grinding sound of approaching tank threads was another indication that waiting around would prove unhealthy for him. The rumble of the behemoths was too close for comfort, so without hesitation he took to his heels. Armed with a mere Socom and chased by armour in hostile territory hinted that discretion was indeed the better part of valour.


No sooner had he done so, six Soviet Rhino tanks pounded into view, their turrets aimed at him. The six barrels roared with utmost ferocity, with armour piercing rounds screaming overhead like maddened banshees. Soil lifted in sudden bursts as they came crashing down. He darted through the streets of destruction with the tanks closing in. To his utter shock, he entered a street with the far end blocked off by the remains of a shopping mall. He could have scaled it – in time, but as he heard the grinding thread round the corner he was aware he was fresh out of it. The tanks took aim and turrets opened fire. Out of reflex, he curled up in limp defence, only to realize he wasn’t reduced to pulp. Shells were still singing in their off-key harmony, but none in his direction. Confused, he glanced up and saw three tanks with a pillar of smoke emerging from the turret. Behind them was the remaining three aiming in the other direction, taking a severe beating. Behind those were other armoured vehicles, each adorned with the telltale insignia of the Allied forces. A small patrol of Grizzly tanks had spared his fate for another time. The enemy vehicles were crushed in one swift attack. As the smoke towered to the sky, the friendlies rolled up to the relieved arrival. The tank commander of the leading vehicle popped his head out. He had a seedy looking grin on his face.


‘How are the hairs on the back of your neck feeling Commander?’ He arrogantly smirked.


‘Just fine.’ The Commander snapped in response. ‘Now what in blazes is Ivan doing in DC?!’


‘War sir. Shit happens.’ He shrugged. Temper soared up a couple of extra notches but flaring over impudence was not worth the Commander’s effort and strength. ‘General Carville is waiting for you back at base. Best to hop aboard. He’s not a patient man.’ With no more than a shallow mutter the Commander climbed up on to the lead tank’s chassis and gave them the order to move on. This time the tank commander gave him a curious look. ‘Wouldn’t you feel safer inside?’


‘If none of you want to give me a decent answer as to what the fuck is going on, I’ll have to find out for myself. Now drive!’ He yelled. The tank leader was shocked and hesitated but as a glare came round his way he ducked back down inside and issued the appropriate orders. The tank soon kicked into motion with a groan and wheeze. The Commander held on as he glanced around. An operetta of destruction held centre stage. Harriers zoomed overhead hammering missiles into Kirovs as they dropped a payload over lumbering Chrono Miners. GIs, having barricaded themselves in the few buildings still standing upright, mercilessly gunned down scores of unfortunate Conscripts who persisted in laying siege to the defences. Prism and Mirage tanks travelled at high speeds across battered parks and streets to hot zones all over the Washington area, most of them severely damaged by Terror Drones. This was indeed war…
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Old 07-05-2009, 07:31 PM
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JinTetra JinTetra is offline
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Very, very well put together. ^_^

You use the most appropriate language to set the scene of desolation on the Allied home front, and the Command and Conquer units are easily recognizable. You paint a vivid picture in my head, and your grammar is impeccable. Damn fine work!
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Old 07-05-2009, 11:01 PM
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AlazarRamir AlazarRamir is offline
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Thanks Jin. I appreciate the feedback. When I have time, I will get some more.
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