B was chosen. Huzzah! Cry havoc!
Sukhbataar glanced up at the twisting, narrow paths. None of the choices were wholly appetizing to him, nor to the other Zuuts. Still, they deferred to him, and he made that fateful choice, explaining his actions to his fellow Zuuts, but giving orders only to the squad leaders. All smiled wholeheartedly at his choice. He had chosen a full rush by the moonlight.
As darkness came and fell upon the mountainside, they did not set up camp. No, instead the men would be marched up the hill, forcefully if necessary. They would be tired, sore, and full of fire and rage, ready to kill anyone and anything. A night chill descended upon the fighting force. The skies darkened, and Sukhbataar hammered out the final elements of the assault by lamplight with the other Zuuts and squad commanders.
"Many will die," he continued, "but we are Mongol. We will fight to the last bullet, to the last breath. We will take one path, the most obvious. If the enemy has any sense of mind, they will have placed snipers and machine gun nests all along the path. If they have the capability, they will have mined and trapped it."
"Do they have this capability?" One of the Zuuts, Batbayar asked. He was tall and thin, wiry, with a ragged moustache and wisps of black hair peeking from behind his cap at random spots. As he spoke, his yellow and cracked teeth were on full display.
"Assume that they do," Sukhbataar replied. "We do not know how many there are, but there are enough to have taken several outposts by force."
"They will have rockets then, perhaps. Not mortars or howitzers, but machine guns and maybe rockets," Ganbaatar added, the second of the two Zuuts that willingly followed the madman. He was short, surprisingly so even. But he had a coldness to his eyes, a dead quality, a killer's eyes. Thick of chest and stomach, with arms built like cannons, he was stocky for a Mongol, and his facial features displayed a mixed breed, perhaps Mongol, Russo, and something more. His moustache was long and braided, like a pair of thick rat tails dangling from his lip.
"Yes," Sukhbataar agreed, "We will have to move on foot. It will be slow. Our best course of action will be to have our own weapons of provide cover for our forces. We will use flares fired by Howitzers, along with torches and fires set by scouts, guide our men. We will use rockets and mortars and whatever howitzers are not used for flares to create a corridor of death. We have enough ammunition with each to get us two thirds of the way up the hill, perhaps farther if we stretch it and slow our firing intervals."
"We have so much ammunition," Ganbaatar said, "why this way? We have carts of shells, more of rockets."
"Because we will have to proceed up that path by foot. The horse will not be surefooted on those rocky paths, and when they fall, it will be another obstruction for our men to climb over. We will break up squads and center them around machine guns, and as they advance, the machine gun will provide cover fire if there are any snipers that dare to pick their heads up."
"It is ugly," Batbayar said, smiling, "but it will do. Yes, it will do well."
"I agree," Ganbaatar laughed, "Many of our brothers will die, but it is glorious to die in combat, to ensure that your enemy will spend his last moments screaming in agony."
Sukhbataar hefted his axe onto his shoulder with his right hand, and with his left drew one of his custom 1911's and fired it into the air. The men around him roared with appreciation as orders were shouted for them to dismount. Weapons were readied, submachine guns, rifles, shotguns, and machine guns. The big guns were moved into position. Sukhbataar took his place among his men, and as scouts advanced, lighting the way, he bellowed, firing his pistol into the air.
"Begin the assault!"
****
Mood Music
http://youtuberepeater.com/watch?v=g_M_LAMaf0w&name=Last+of+the+Mohicans+Promontory
****
For twenty minutes or more, the slow ascension was going smoothly. Above them, as the howitzers fired, flares burned brightly in the sky, lighting the wide path. The flares had an unintended consequence, beneficial to both sides. Not only did they light the air, but suddenly, for brief moments, everyone was completely visible, more clearly than in daylight.
One of the men from Ganbaatar's Zuut was the first to be killed, as a machine gun nest lit by the flares in the black sky opened fire. More fell, men cut in half to the rapid sound of that vicious led spewer. Blood spurted from wounds as limbs were severed by hot lead. With a shocking blast, the machinegun fire was cut short. A mortar round landed right on top of the nest, killing all three men inside.
This seemed to energize the Mongols, not demoralize them. Now, they were screaming, yelling, firing their rifles at every instance, and moving forward faster than before. A tripwire set off by a scouting party did not deter them, and a second squad rushed forward to fill the vacant spot, eager to tear flesh from bones, be it their own or their enemies.
A screaming whistle erupted as the first barrage of rockets passed overhead. The men cheered and moved forward, faster, rushing headlong into danger. As the rockets crashed into the mountains face, exploding, raining liquid fire on everything all around them, screams could be heard. The screams of men. The enemy burned, and the Mongols screamed in celebration.
More machinegun fire from pitted crags along the path they had chosen. This time, the men cut to pieces were of Sukhbataar's Zuut. Sukhbataar charged forward, screaming, firing his shotgun wildly. He struck the machine gunner twice, then a third time, effectively shattering the gunner's arm, shoulder, and chest, exploding them and raining red viscera everywhere. He dropped his gun as he jumped onto the lip of the fox pit, standing over three others below, two men and a boy. Sukhbataar shot them all, firing three times in rapid succession.
"Forward!" He urged his men, "Keep moving damn you! We will take this fucking mountain back! We will take it and kill every last son of a bitch atop it!"
Those that were wounded tended to themselves as best they could, limping along. The battle was not yet over, and so all healthy men were required to continue on, fighting. The wounded were ignored, and if they could not fight, treated as if they were dead. Such was the life of a Mongol.
The cannons roared as they pushed upward, death ahead of them and in their wake. Snipers attempted to kill what they could, but most were gunned down quickly. Sukhbataar knew that each man who fell would be a loss that would reverberate throughout the whole of the group, but he knew that the enemy, burdened by women, children, and the elderly, would feel each loss that much more. And so they pressed on.
More rockets screamed overhead, scattering this way and that, exploding on impact and sending white hot death in all directions. The mountainside was well lit now, a constant light, sending shadows scattering. While the napalm fires burned, flares were not as necessary, so now more howitzers devoted themselves to firing explosive shells. The mortars roared too, though less frequently, but with great effect as they targeted fox pits and sniper nests, sending limbs flying from bodies.
****
After hours of marching, they reached the enemy encampment, near the top of the mountain. As they passed the halfway point, the enemy simply retreated to their hold, and Sukhbataar ordered the big guns to cease their incessant bellowing.
The town was surrounded by a wall, made of rocks, stone, and mortar, and Sukhbataar ordered the men of the Zuuts to duck down and seek cover and wait for the cannons to reach their positions. While waiting, he conferred with his fellow Zuuts, to gain a handle on the situation at hand.
"We still have rockets and howitzers left," Sukhbataar began, speaking to Batbayar and Ganbaatar. "We are in the advantage."
"They haven't put up much of a fight yet, have they? If this is all there is, I'd be disappoitned," Batbayar smiled.
"Feh," Ganbaatar spat, "These yellow fucks will give us a fight I'd wager. They're gathering behind that fucking wall, taking snap shots at our men. What are your orders, Sukhbataar? You've led us this far, how about the rest of it?"
"They've been busy, so we can assume that they have behind that wall more fortifications. I didn't think they would have that fucking thing. We wait for the cannons, and we blast a few holes into that fucking wall for our men to get through. Then, we let the rockets and mortars do what they were built to do, and fire them over that wall, and into the village. Burn it all down. More than the wall, I don't doubt they'll have tunnels as well, probably all over the place. Once we move in, the men will move in small squads. Spread the word. All the men and boys are to be put to the sword, as are the elderly. The women and girls will be taken prisoner."
Both men grinned viciously at this and quickly sent Sukhbataar's orders through the ranks. As word spread, and the men became excited, the Howitzers and rockets, pulled by horse, rolled into position. Mortar teams quickly set up at various spots just below the ridge of the slope, so they could not be targeted by snipers. Calmly, Sukhbataar gave the order to open fire.
The howitzers fired almost all at the same time, each tearing a hole into the wall, a pocket for the men to run through. Sukhbataar smirked as the ground shook as if it were thundering. He imagined that many of the townspeople, the rebel bastards, were screaming in fear, huddled in whatever hole they could squeeze themselves into. Again they fired, beating down more sections of that long wall.
While those iron and steel guns discharged, the rockets were loosed like a volley of arrows. They roared overhead, arcing and then falling down to the ground, well behind the wall. They struck the village, and through the gaps in the wall Sukhbataar could see a bright orange glow spread quickly, growing stronger and stronger. Sniper fire stopped as people began screaming and shouting. A second volley was loosed as the howitzers opened the floodgates of explosive shells again. Those holes were widened now for ten men to pass through, shoulder to shoulder. Flames leapt up behind the wall, over it now. The village was burning.
With a wave of his hand, Sukhbataar silenced the howitzers and the rocket teams, and motioned for the mortar squads to now do their task. And they performed admirably, firing quickly, again and again. There were more screams from behind the wall, and Sukhbataar ordered the mortars to hold.
He stood and calmly marched forward, shotgun at the ready. His men did the same, following him. He chose the nearest gap in the wall and walked through, to witness the inferno before him. As his men passed through the gaps at various points in the wall, he shouted at them to hold positions. He watched people run all over, screaming. Men, women, and children on fire, running, falling to the ground, lying there. The napalm burned so hot it felt like summer. Sukhbataar felt the dirt beneath his boots, through his boots, radiating heat. Despite the cold, he was sweating. And he contented himself to sit and wait for the fires to die down. Behind the lines of men that had formed now, the mortar teams were ready again, waiting for the command to attack.
****
The fires died down as dawn approached, but pools of napalm jelly still burned, puddled liquid flame. As the breeze picked up, Sukhbataar, now sitting calmly against what remained of the wall, thought it strangely beautiful. He had not slept, nor had his men. They were tired. And he had come to dread sleep and what thoughts it would bring to his head.
Finally, he stood as the sun began peaking over the mountaintop, bathing what remained of the town in a beautiful golden light. It was almost blinding, it was so bright, purifying even, though the real killing had not even been accomplished yet. Now came the slaughter of what remained, if anything at all remained.
Slowly, the Mongols filtered into the town. Bodies, some blown to pieces from the mortars and cannon fire, others burned to ash by napalm, lay everywhere. Two corpses in the remains of a hut, a mother clutching a child, were fused together, the heat having melted the fat of both, congealed, and burned the rest to ash. There were more like that, what remained of people, either pools of bubbling fat or pure ash.
He called out to his men, to find the tunnels. There were as many homes as corpses, and there should be more corpses than what they saw. He didn't see enough women, children, or men, nor enough guns. There were plenty rifles and a few machine guns, but not much else. Sukhbataar wanted to see the rockets they should have had from taking those outposts. In the back of his mind, he knew that they should be here somewhere.
Gunfire erupted near the center of what had once been the town, and Sukhbataar knew he had been right. He ran to the commotion, as did the men that followed him. Ganbaatar and his men had surrounded what appeared to be a large pit in the center of burned out ruins that must have at one time been a hall. The shooting stopped as Sukhbataar arrived, followed by his men. Batbayar and a gathering of his own men arrived as well. The three Zuuts gathered together to confer.
"There are men down there, and at least one machine gun," Ganbaatar said triumphantly. "They also have women and children down there as well."
"Women and children?" Batbayar interrupted, a hunger in his eyes, "So, how will we split the riches of this raid then?"
"This is not a raid," Sukhbataar snarled angrily at both Zuuts, "This is military action. We have not won any riches to yet split. And when we do win them, I will be the one to decide such things, and my word is final. If any man dares to speak against me now, after this, I will sever his head from his shoulders." Both Ganbaatar and Batbayar said nothing, only nodding slowly.
What must Sukhbataar order?
A.) If there's a entrance to the tunnel, there's also an exit. We push in and chase after them, we'll end up chasing them all over. Not only that, but we'll lose many, many men. The mountain top is vast, and we are few. There may be more hiding elsewhere. Have one half of one Zuut guarding the pit entrance while the rest of the battle force scours the rest of the place, looking for entrances to more caverns and tunnels.
B.) We go in, but we send Batbayar and his men in first. If he is so hungry for slaves, then let him waste the lives of his men to get them. While they are swarming the entrance of the tunnel, pushing forward, Sukhbataar, Ganbaatar, and their respective Zuuts will be searching the village and the mountaintop. If Batbayar's men think like raiders, then let them die like raiders.
C.) Burn them out, and to hell with slaves and captives. Those were never the object of our mission anyway, but rather a bonus upon completion that Sukhbataar hastily promised as a possibility. Take apart several rockets and roll them down the entrance of the pit, and then send a few grenades in after them.
