Arc of Fire

Commando Team Commander Jonathan observed the Valley Bridge through his binoculars.

He had a pile of Gith behind him—a type of amaranth that looked like clumps of green wool balls, the main provider of greenery on the Balas Plateau.

Jonathan’s assault team was all concealed among the Gith.

Except for a few tasked with sentry duty, others were resting and starting to chat sporadically.

"Damn, there goes my vacation. Just managed to wipe out that Desert Fox’s supplies and hope of seizing Alexandria port, and now we’re thrown into this godforsaken place."

"Yeah, even if they didn’t give us a vacation, it would’ve been nice to spend some time in Rocca getting to know the local ladies; the women there are dark but beautiful."

Jonathan turned around and looked at the grumbling subordinates, "I promise you, after this mission we’ll go home for a vacation."

The subordinates let out skeptical hisses, "Big Joe, I believe anything you say, even if today you said we’re going to kill the Prosen Emperor, the brothers would believe you could do it, but vacation—that, when have you ever delivered?"

Jonathan shook his head helplessly.

The subordinates continued teasing, "It’s not that we don’t trust you, Big Joe. It’s the officers we don’t trust—oh well, you’re an officer too. Anyway, they never deliver on vacations."

Then, Gonif the scout said, "Big Joe, why aren’t you carrying your Longsword anymore? Is that odd-looking curved saber a souvenir?"

Jonathan: "My Longsword was lost somewhere during our retreat from Alexandria. I was planning to get a new one back home, but since we didn’t go back, I got this ready-made one from a Swordsmith in Rocca, a Mamluk sabre just like the ones the palace guards use."

Gonif: "Is it any good?"

"I don’t know, haven’t tested it on Prosen brain yet, might test it on a Balas one tonight."

As they spoke, a tricycle engine sputtered its way from the direction of the Bridge and stopped after turning behind the knoll where Jonathan and his team were hidden.

Colonel Hoffman, who had helped Jonathan infiltrate the military port in Alexandria previously, jumped off the motorcycle. This time, he wore a Barlas Imperial Guards’ officer uniform with a coat resembling that of a Prosen motorcycle troop.

Jonathan: "What’s the word, ’Colonel Hoffman’?"

The master of disguise, code-named "Doctor," shook his head, "Don’t ask. The ones guarding the bridge aren’t Balasians, but real Prosens dressed like Balasians! The pre-action intel mentioned at most only 1000 to 2000 retired Prosen instructors in Balas, damn it! I saw at least five hundred there!"

Jonathan: "So, were you able to sneak in and scout successfully?"

"I wasn’t! The Prosens looked down on me, wouldn’t let me in!"

Jonathan: "It seems direct reconnaissance is out of the question. Gonif, it’s your turn, see if you can sneak in."

"Alright!" Gonif stood up, stripped off all his gear, leaving only a dagger on him.

Jonathan cautioned, "Be sure to find out if the enemy has placed bombs on the bridge, and where the bomb control device is!"

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Gonif saluted, then crouched and sprinted, quickly disappearing amidst the Gith.

The Doctor stood beside Jonathan: "By the time he gets back, it will be night."

"That’s perfect for our action, isn’t it?" Jonathan said, "I know Gonif; he won’t mess it up. His only flaw is that he doesn’t speak Prosenese; otherwise, he could complete many missions alone."

At that moment, one of the subordinates laughed, "Expect Gonif to speak Prosenese? Boss, you’re really dreaming big. He can’t even speak Ansian fluently; he gets confused with anything slightly complex."

Jonathan: "I know. He doesn’t look like the scholarly type."

The Doctor changed the subject, "So, what do we do now?"

Jonathan: "We wait. Don’t act rashly without specific intel."

Saying this, he pulled out a cigarette case from his pocket, opened it, took out a cigar, bit off the end, struck a match carefully, and lit it, taking a deep drag.

Time seemed to rush by in the wisp of cigar smoke.

When Jonathan lit who knows which number cigar, night had fallen, and Gonif came staggering back.

"I’ve pretty much figured it out!" he said, "Give me the map!"

Jonathan immediately took out the detailed map of the Bridge and the surrounding fortifications provided by MI6 before the operation.

Gonif: "I didn’t find a chance to cross the bridge, so I don’t know the situation on the other side, but this side has been thoroughly scouted. We have not only six machine guns but also anti-aircraft guns. I’ve checked their range, and these anti-aircraft guns could flatten anything."

"Boss, a frontal attack relying solely on us will definitely not be enough! But if we can seize these mounted weapons first, they could help us severely damage the enemy."

Jonathan: "Did you find the explosives for blowing up the bridge?"

"I found them, not sure how many they’ve placed, but they are all attached to the bottom of the bridge’s steel frame. I followed the detonation line and found the detonator inside the bridgehead fort on the right side of the bridge.

"There are Prosenese inside on duty, I don’t speak Prosenese so I didn’t dare to enter."

While he was saying this, Gonif was marking all this information on the MI6-issued map.

The doctor cursed, "As I thought, our maps are inaccurate."

"You’ll get used to it," Jonathan said. "Gonif, go back and try to get some uniforms… This time the doctor needs to disguise himself as a Prosen officer, just like those sent here, wearing a Balas uniform. We’ll drive over—"

Gonif took off the big bundle on his back and pushed it towards Jonathan: "Do you think these are enough?"

Jonathan seemed to have anticipated this and smiled, "I knew you wouldn’t come back empty-handed."

"A good thief leaves no trace," Gonif laughed.

"Then we prepare our disguises—"

Just then, the soldier watching the north blew his whistle.

Jonathan turned and asked, "What’s the matter?"

The sentry began to gesture, and after a round of gestures, Jonathan’s brow furrowed, "A troop is coming from the north? Why at this time? No, the landing operation has already begun, these must be retreating troops.

"Isn’t Rocossov leading the assault? Isn’t he known for rarely causing enemy retreats and prefers annihilation?"

No one could answer him, as nobody was truly familiar with the actual character of Rocossov.

Jonathan stood up and hurried to the northern outpost, but even without a telescope, he could already see the enemy—because all of their vehicles had their headlights on.

"Damn!"

By then, the convoy was nearing the small hill where the commandos were hiding, and Jonathan could only turn and order everyone to lie down, hiding among the Gith.

So such a sizable commando squad thus vanished into the nascent night.

Actually, Jonathan and his team were overly cautious—the convoy was simply focused on escaping and paid no attention to its surroundings.

The light-bearing convoy dashed straight for the Bridgehead Fort, only to be stopped by the guard post next to it.

Vaguely, Prosenese and some swearing in Balas could be heard in the air, regardless if the others could understand it.

After listening for a while, the doctor said, "The Balasians want to cross the bridge, but the Prosenese are telling them to go back and continue fighting the ’invaders.’"

Jonathan scoffed, "You mention the United Kingdom, that’s one thing; we indeed have done many dirty deeds. But Ante was invaded by you!"

The commando team members all looked towards Jonathan.

Jonathan: "Am I wrong? In Myanmar, in Babylon, we even used gas to suppress the enemy."

Doctor: "Are you a... Secular faction?"

Jonathan shut his mouth.

After a brief silence, he said, "Plans have changed, can you try to persuade the Prosenese to let the Balasians cross? Then we can hide under these trucks and cross the bridge, taking cover at strategic positions."

The doctor thought for a moment and said, "I can try."

Gonif pushed a pile of uniforms toward him: "Uniforms, highest ranking colonel, pick any."

"No," the doctor shook his head, "I’m best suited as I am now. I’ll go down and mediate the disagreement while you hide under the trucks."

Jonathan: "Split into two groups, those who don’t speak Prosenese and can’t act, get under the trucks. The rest, change into uniforms and follow Gonif along the path he took. Commence the operation."

And so, a platoon of commandos immediately split up to execute their assignments.