I strung a hammock across the cargo bay of the C-130, the Air Force cargo plane was going to ferry us to the Portal, from there we would head to Davidson for staging. The activity below was staggering as we circled in for a landing hours later, stacked behind three C-5s, the massive heavy-lift aircraft were carrying more troops and vehicles to add to the fight. We circled for an hour before our wheels finally touched down. I grabbed my gear bag, pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes, and made sure my old faded Griz hat was straight before heading down the ramp.

Everywhere you looked, guys were getting ready to cross, entire companies of Airborne guys, Marines, Special Operations. The push was here. We weaved our way towards the ECP; steely-eyed paratroopers from the Eighty-Deuce had replaced the Homeland security guys. “OGA, priority crossing,” I said to the sergeant with the clipboard.

He checked it over, before eyeing us up, in our ratty civilian clothes, before nodding. “Proceed.”

“Thanks, Sarge, take care.”

“You too.”

I took a deep breath and stepped through the shimmering doorway. If I thought Jackson was bad, then the Canterlot side of the portal was pandemonium, Equestrian soldiers mixed with our guys, marching out of the city to waiting transport, heading East. When I thought about how close we came to losing this..well, it’s not worth thinking about. We were back, the Reds were cut off, and it was time for this fight to end. Frank was waiting for us just down the street, leaning on a Suburban.

“Hey boys, heard you had quite the vacation.”

I smiled, “Noteworthy to be sure.”

“Best ninety-six I ever had.” Connor laughed.

Frank just shook his head, “Fucking animals. Let’s move, guys.”

We piled into the SUVs and headed for the Embassy, I stared out the window for the short ride, watching the crowds of soldiers and civilians, old haunts and older memories whipped by as our little convoy sped up. Pulling in the back gate of the Embassy a few minutes later. We bailed and walked across the yard, heading for the Annex. Frank briefed us while we waited.

“Butcher and Oxide will be running with Delta on this one; the assault begins in a matter of hours, you guys are going in ahead of everyone, we have air defense sites here, here, and here. Those need to be taken out, once we get the all-clear, the first wave of Airborne will launch, landing on the port side of the city, German Tank battalions will enter the city along with Fourth Marines, followed by the Canadians and Equestrians. Once Delta takes the Anti-air, you guys are going to establish a hide on the Westside and direct fast-air onto whatever troop concentrations and enemy armor that presents itself, Butcher will do the same on the other side of the city. We’re going to overwhelm them with sheer force, and they’ll have nowhere to run but back across the ocean. Jock up boys, the helo leaves for Davidson in an hour.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were geared up and standing on the Embassy helipad, I looked up Chestnut street, the setting sun throwing rays onto our little group. It almost felt like Tia was there, holding me. The Little Bird crew was pulling their checklists as we checked and re-checked our gear. Strobes, armor, helmets, rifles, we had some of the best kit the US Government could supply. I stuffed the pre-mission jitters; this was for the ballgame.

The door to the rooftop access opened, and all eyes swiveled to see Tia and her entourage, followed by Frank and Ambassador Reed.

“Gentlemen,” Christina called out, “The Princess requested to see you off.”

Celestia cleared her throat, addressing both teams. “I have been made aware of the actions you men have taken to ensure the continued survival of my nation over the past weeks, and I felt the need to express my gratitude in person. I’ve been told that you head East, to route the invaders from our home. For the sacrifices you’ve made, I have no words. You, and indeed every human fighting as we speak, are heroes of Equestria. May the Maker bless your undertaking, and see you all home safe.”

Butcher and Oxide bowed as one “Thank you, Highness.”

“Zack?”

I straightened up, locking eyes with her, “Highness?”

“Come home safe, my friend.” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears; she said everything in that look. All of the love we shared, all of the desperation to come out of this alive, everything that had passed between us since that first night was all there in her eyes.

“I will, Princess.”

She nodded and, without another word, turned on her heel and walked back down the steps. I clamped down on all the emotions coursing through me as I watched her go. God, I wished we had more time. Christina spoke as the rotors began to turn behind us, “Gentlemen, it has been an honor to have you in my house, go get ‘em, and let's end this thing.”

“Yes, ma’am,” we chorused.

She nodded to each one of us in turn before heading down. Leaving Frank and us, “Get it done, guys.”

“Ready to go?” Came the call from the pilot.

I flashed Frank the thumbs- up as the roar of the engine washed over us. With a final wave from the guys, we climbed aboard, tying off. Seconds later, we were airborne, skimming the Canterlot rooftops. The wind whipped past my face as we hit the edge of the city and dropped into a sharp descent. The pilot was pushing the Little Bird to her limits as we raced towards the FOB. I looked out across Equestria, all this beauty and magic, love, and friendship, this place would know peace again if it meant my life.

We flew low over Ponyville; the reconstruction crews had done a great job, both the Army Corp of Engineers and Equestrian Civil Engineers, but it would always be one more town ravaged by this conflict. I bit back the anger, there would be a time for it, and the time was fast approaching. Davidson came up quickly after that; we came in fast, I lifted my feet as our skids touched down, in seconds we were all up and moving, heading for the TOC to let the JSOC brass we’d arrive.

Fifteen minutes later, we were assembled on the tarmac, along with an entire Delta Troop from A Squadron. We’d be jumping directly into the city for this one, right into the middle of the Griffon and Russian occupation force. I sat on the line, laden down with nearly two-hundred pounds of gear, waiting for the go. The excitement in the air was palpable; my mind kept drifting to all that had happened; everything had lead right here.

“We got the word, boys!” The Delta Captain’s voice cracked through the darkness, “Let’s go!”

One of the Deltas offered his hand, pulling me to my feet, Tuck and Rob fell in behind me, Butcher behind them, and we filed aboard the C-17. I leaned back into my jump seat, checking through my gear, all present and accounted for. I tried to close my eyes but couldn’t sleep, I just kept running over and over the plan, one more hop and it’d be over.

“Twenty minutes!” The jumpmaster shouted.

“Twenty minutes!” We echoed.

I tapped my foot as the clock wound down, when the plane suddenly pitched to the right, then back to the left. I heard the rapid-fire pops from the flare launchers; we were jinking around missiles. Suddenly the bay was bathed in a red glow, a klaxon blaring; they were dropping us early.

“Short drop, stand up!”

I struggled to my feet, clicking my oxygen mask into place. The count started from the front of the plane, buddy-checks conducted, and oxygen tanks cranked open. The ramp slowly dropped, Luna’s night sky stretching out before us, Pegasi Weather Teams had pushed in some serious cloud cover. Tuck tapped me on the shoulder after checking my chute and gear, I checked the Delta in front of me, tapping him on the shoulder and flashing the thumbs-up when he looked over his shoulder. I looked past him and out into the sky beyond. An S-300 SAM went shooting by the open door, coloring the interior of the plane orange for a split second before it detonated, rocking the plane wildly and throwing a couple of guys to the floor, one screamed as his leg snapped under the weight of all his gear. The light blinked red and then snapped to green.

“GO GO, GO!”

We rushed forward, guys falling into the night, the Delta in front of me tripped, and I barely managed to catch him as we kept moving, I watched him drop out of sight. Three more steps, two, one. I didn’t hesitate, stepping off the ramp and into free-fall. I spread out my limbs, trying to slow my descent, I looked back at the plane just in time to see a missile slam into the side, right under the left-wing, seconds later the fuel tanks ignited, the blast wave pushed me off course, I spun through the air, catching snatches of the sky and the ground, it took all I had not to puke in my mask. I was frantically trying to stabilize, the wind rushing past me, and the snatches of ground were getting closer.

“Fuck fuck fuck” I whispered as I spun out of control, I couldn’t pop my chute, I’d get tangled and then it would be well and truly over. Something slammed into me, and the ground and sky were suddenly back where they were supposed to be. I shook off the dizziness long enough to see one of the Deltas giving me the OK sign. I flashed it back and checked my altimeter, fifty feet to-

SNAP

My Chute popped, and I was pulled straight up by the opening shock, I frantically pulled my mask off and threw up, once the heaving passed I slipped my mask back into place. The waves of nausea finally dissipated and I gathered up my marbles enough to look down, the darkened city greeted me, I had no idea where I was, and chances were good I was going to land in a crowd of Griffons and be fucked before I started. I was going over my Escape and Evasion plan when off to my left, a strobe began blinking on the roof of what looked like an apartment building. I reached up and grabbed the steering line with both hands, pulling into a sharp left turn. After a few more minutes of falling, I smacked into the ground sideways, yard-sale-ing my gear across the rooftop before a couple of Deltas tackled me, thankfully keeping me from getting blown off the roof.

“Fuck me running sideways, thanks, boys."

“Christ, OGA. Need some remedial?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.” I laughed, “Everyone get out?”

His laugh died on his face, “I don’t know, the radios are fucked, it’s all line of sight, and no one is checking in.”

I looked around the roof; six Deltas were arranged around the corners, making sure the Griffs didn’t ambush us from above or below. “Fuck, well we need to get on with it, one way or another those Airborne guys are coming, we’re the only thing between them and a massacre. I’ve got opcon unless anyone objects?”

“Let’s do it, OGA. You call the shots.”

I nodded, “Alright, we have to get off this fucking roof; anyone have an idea how far to our first target?”

One of the D-boys on the corner piped up, “I do, bud, ten blocks to the East is the first SAM Site.”

“Got it, alright, let's move. Can we rig up a line?” I looked over the edge of the roo, fifty feet to the pavement.

“On it,” One of the Deltas called softly, pulling back from his corner and digging out a thick loop of rope. A quick tie-job later, and we tossed the fast-rope over the side. I pulled a pair of thick gloves on, grabbed the line, and slid down to the street. I moved to the corner as the rest of my ad-hoc team roped down. Once we were all together, I snapped off some hand signals, and we moved, covering the angles. At the end of the street, a BRDM went rocketing by followed by two Griffons flying after it.

“What do you want to bet if we follow them, we’ll find our guys?” One of the D-boys whispered.

“Only if we split the element, I can take two guys and hit the site, the rest of you break off and keep hunting for the boys.”

“Rog’, Raz, Dom, Mitch, and Kennedy on me.” The lead Delta slapped me on the shoulder as he ran by, “See you on the other side OGA.”

“You too, man, shoot straight.”

“All day, baby.”

They rounded the corner and were gone; I turned to the two guys who’d stuck around, “Let’s go, boys.”

“On you CIA.”

We pushed across the intersection, bounding cover to cover. Ten blocks seemed like the other side of the world when you’re waiting to get ambushed. Voices from around the corner brought us to a halt; I peeked out, a checkpoint set up at the end of the street. Russians stared into the dark, away from us.

“I’ve got four. End of the street, right in our way.”

“Gotta take ‘em?”

“No way around it.”

Somewhere in the city, an explosion ripped through the night. Somebody had found one of the sites. The Russians tensed, one guy was clearly leading the pack, barking orders. I motioned the guys forward, and we moved down the street, willing the Reds to keep facing away from us. I closed the gap to about thirty feet, waiting for the Deltas to get set, a second later a tap on my shoulder let me know they were ready. I brought my rifle up, the EOTech reticle landing on the back of the nearest Russian.

“Take ‘Em.”

I squeezed the trigger twice; my target pitched forward with a scream, The Delta next to me firing five rounds into his bad guy, I crossed over and shot the guy again as he fell before tracking back over to mine, who was struggling to stand, I shot him in the back of the head. At the same time, the Deltas worked on the other two. Within seconds the checkpoint was quiet; the smell of blood and cordite filled the air, quickly dissipating with the breeze.

On my right, a door opened, and I snapped my rifle up, right into the face of a Unicorn, I dropped it as quickly as it had come up. “Blue,” I whispered.

The Unicorn mare was older, sixties or seventies, she stared into my eyes for a moment, stepping out of her doorway and leaning on her cane, it clacked on the sidewalk as she closed the gap, throwing her arms around me.

“Oh thank the Princesses, you’ve come for us.” She whispered tearfully.

Despite what was going on, I hugged her back, “Yes ma’am, we did; I need you to get back inside and hunker down, okay? There’s gonna be a whole lot more of us here in a little while.”

She hugged me tighter, “I will human, you go get ‘em.”

I chuckled a little before letting her go, “Yes, ma’am.”

She gave me one last nod before retreating into her apartment. I smiled after her; I’d get that old woman her city back if it killed me.

“Let’s go, two blocks to the site.”

Gunfire from the South, A missile launch from our front, air-raid sirens were echoing off the buildings; the city was waking up, the assault had begun.

“Double time!” I shouted, all stealth had been blown, we hauled ass the last two blocks, and there stood the prize, a massive battery of S-300s in a ring around the intersection. It looked like we had targets two and three. Whoever set this up failed tactics one-oh-one. Two full squads of Russians manned the perimeter, Griffons were on the second floors, they had cover in-depth, and my sad-ass three-man fire team wasn’t gonna hack it. I stood there for a moment, weighing our options when another explosion sounded somewhere in the distance, and my radio roared to life.

“Any stations this net. Oxide has blown a radio jammer on the South side.”

“Butcher copies all, We’re in position on the remaining SAM Sites.”

“This is Andrews, with Delta times two, on the East side of the site, set and waiting.”

Dave’s voice came across the wire. “Good to hear your voice, Butcher is set, ready to take shots, on your go.”

“Do it.”

From the roof of a nearby restaurant, a rocket streaked into the center of the Russians, detonating in a flash of light and a deafening explosion, another AT-4 flew in from the other side of the intersection blasting the Griffons to pieces.

“Move!” I shouted, taking off at a dead sprint. A few wounded Russians were still on their feet; I put them down with some well-placed shots the Deltas blowing by me, dead-checking the Reds and tossing charges on the missile batteries. I pulled out a ten-pound slap charge, sticking it to my battery, and sliding in a remote fuse. “Set!” I shouted.

“Set!”

“Set!”

“Fall back!”

We ran back across the intersection to the restaurant, I jumped right through the front window, the two Deltas sliding into cover. “Butcher, blowing the charges, heads down!”

I hit the igniter.

Outside, the batteries went up in a flash of fire and smoke, shattering all the windows in the restaurant and sending a plume of smoke a hundred feet in the air. I cranked my radio to the main net, “Break Break Break! This is Oxide Actual in the blind; the Air Defense grid is down. Assault line is clear!”

“Oxide this is Hammer Actual, we read you loud and clear, thought we’d lost you over.”

“You almost did Hammer; Radio jamming equipment precluded check-ins, all objectives have been met.”

“Copy Oxide, Assault has begun, move to secondary objective.”

“Oxide copies all, godspeed Hammer.”

“Likewise, Hammer, over and out.”

I could hear the massive fleet of planes overhead; if we’d been a little slower, they’d have been walking into a massacre. I keyed up my radio, switching back to the operational frequency, “Oxide, what is your location?”

“South side of the city, rally point?” Tuck answered.

I pulled out my map; we were a stone's throw from the financial district. “Financial sector, the EquusBank office, rally on the ground floor, we’ll make our way up from there, and we should have a clear view to paint targets for fast-air.”

“I copy EquusBank office, moving now ETA fifteen mikes. How copy?”

“I copy all, meet you there, out.”

I looked at my Deltas buddies, “I’m out boys, time to go do some spooky shit, you’ll be able to get to your RV?”

“We got it CIA, good running with you.”

“Likewise, stay up.” I held out my fist.

They knocked theirs into it in turn. “Always”

I vaulted back into the street, giving Butcher a wave and double-timing it to the rendezvous. The sun was rising, and the sky was full of chutes. I could hear cannon fire from the West as I ran, the Germans were having fun with it. I crossed an intersection. There she stood, EquusBank was a joint operation between the city of Manehattan and JP Morgan. The massive tower of steel and glass was the crown jewel of the financial center, that would be our hide to coordinate air support. I spotted movement on the South corner, Tuck and Rob.

“I see you guys, how am I looking?”

“Clear, I don’t think they have the manpower to watch the whole city, you’ve got a clear line straight to us.”

I broke from cover, sprinting across the open ground, it was the longest thirty-seconds of my life. But I reached the boys, and we headed inside. We cleared the lobby quickly before heading up the stairs.

“Thought you bought it,” Tuck said in-between breaths as we passed the fourth floor.

“I almost did, Deltas picked me up.”

“We got blown all over hell and get out, damn near didn’t make it through a couple of patrols.”

“Well*Huff*, We’re all here, and that’s what matters, we clinch this one and drinks are on me, we’re gonna shut the ‘Tack down for a week straight.”

“I’ll hold you to that, “ Rob said, laughing.

A few floors and some bitching later, we emerged into a row of cubicles, thirty floors up gave us a fantastic view of the city, plumes of smoke from the fighting rose over the skyline as more Airborne guys poured in from above, every so often a three-chuted mass signifying a tank being dropped would break the pattern of smaller personnel chutes. I just sat there and marveled at the scope of it, every free nation on Earth had a dog in this fight, and it showed. I watched as a smoke trail from the ground sent a troop transport spiraling in to explode in a ball of flame across the river.

“Let’s get set up, West side of the floor, we got the stairwell locked down?”

Rob pulled out a few Claymores, “Give me a minute, and I’ll close the back door nice and tight.”

Tuck and I moved across the floor, hanging the blackout curtains, so the glint from the lasers didn’t give us away. Far below us, the fighting was intense, through the spotting scope, I could see battles raging on all the major roads leading into the city. The Germans and the Marines were giving them hell, time to speed things up. I keyed up the radio, “Hammer, this is Oxide, I pass Mustang, we are standing by for fast-air.”

“Hammer copies all Oxide. Fast air is stacked and awaiting your direction. Pushing you the new traffic.”

“Copy Hammer, standing by for new traffic.”

A momentary burst of static, “Oxide this is Sledge, flight of three A-10s, ground attack munitions locked and loaded. No remarks, mark targets.”

“I copy Sledge, wait one.” I got behind the SOFLAM, picking the spot with the most explosions, Russians had a Marine unit pinned, “Sledge, I have enemy in the open, attack direction South to North, requesting Thirty Mike Mike to clean out some machine gun positions, you have friendlies danger close, sixty meters to the West. Tuck can you raise those Marines and tell them to get real small.”

Tuck nodded, grabbing his own handset and calling out to the Marines, after a second, he looked up. “Marines have the heads up, we’re clear.”

“Sledge, cleared hot on previously established area, marking with laser.”

I got in the SOFLAM, lining up the Russian positions and firing the laser.

“Sledge has your beam, Guns Guns Guns!”

I smiled as the thirty-millimeter cannons chewed through the Russian line like a hot knife through butter. Tuck kept his ear pinned to the radio, “Marines are clear, they’re advancing!”

“Great guns Sledge, stand by for new targets!” I panned the lens over, spying a group of German tanks playing hide and get fucked with a Russian tank platoon. “Sledge, new targets, tanks in the open, requesting Hellfires, come in from the North, we will be lazing.”

“Sledge copies and acknowledges, standing by for your beam.”

“Tuck, how’s your German?”

“Shit.”

I grabbed the radio from his outstretched hand, “Deutscher Panzerkommandant auf der Nordbrücke, dies ist eine amerikanische Einheit, wir markieren Ziele für die Luftunterstützung. Sagen Sie Ihren Panzern, sie sollen in Deckung gehen!”

A moment later, the strained response came over the freq, “Verstanden, senden Sie es!”

“Sledge, lasing, cleared hot!” I fired the beam, holding it over the first Russian tank.

“Sledge has your beam…Rifle” A few seconds later the lead tank exploded in a massive fireball, I repeated the process with the other four tanks until nothing was left but smoking heaps of slag. I keyed up the radio, spinning the knob to the German frequency.

“Deutscher Kommandant, Sie sind klar um voranzukommen.!”

“Roger, danke für die Unterstützung!”

I don’t know how long we sat there, raining death on the Reds and the Griffons, but we kept those planes coming all day, until the sun set below the horizon, we switched to night vision. And continued, running fixed and rotor-wing assets. At ten that night, the Marines and Equestrians had blown past our position. We shifted in our hide, clearing their advance with more firepower than the country of Equestria had ever seen without the aid of magic. Airdrops continued throughout the night, we slept in shifts, working with SF guys on the ground to coordinate supplies. When day broke, we were still at it, directing B-52s in a final run against the last remaining enemy positions. We’d pushed them back to the oceanside, the few Russian and Griffon units that remained were making a desperate stand, waiting for reinforcements that never came.

“Dragon, flight of B-52's times ten, full payload, standing by for grid reference.”

“Copy Dragon, Grid is as follows, Four-Three-Tango-Delta-Foxtrot-One-Three-One-Niner-Two-One-Five-One-Eight-Eight. How copy?”

“Dragon copies your grid, Friendly positions established. Beginning attack run, time now. TOT five mikes.”

I switched to the general freq, my voice raw from calling targets for the better part of twenty-four hours. “All stations this net, in the blind, B-52's are starting their run, Time to targets five mikes, withdraw to safe distance from shoreline.” I lit a cigarette, my raw throat protesting, but we’d done so much, so many had died, so many lives destroyed for this moment.

The moment we retake Manehattan.

“Oxide, Dragon, Weapons loose.” I waited and waited, blowing a cloud of smoke as I stared at the shoreline. The morning air erupted in the kind of destruction that would be talked about for a hundred years; fireballs almost obscured the ocean for a moment, clouds of dirt and smoke thrown hundreds of feet in the air, blotting out the early-morning sun. The blast wave hit us, rattling the windows, followed second later by the muted explosions that signified our victory—a salute to everyone who had died to get us here. I watched the wrath of the free-world with a grim smile on my face. The Reds had fucked around, and today they’d found out.

My radio blazed to life, “All stations. This is Hammer Actual. At ten thirty-five hours, this command received and accepted an offer of unconditional surrender from all enemy forces in the city of Manehattan. All units are to hold in place and await further orders.”

I felt something knock into my shoulder, I looked over, Tuck had a pint of bourbon in his hand, the lid already off. I took it from him and took a long pull from the bottle; the burning reminded me that I was still alive. Rob stuck his hand out, and I passed him the bottle. There were no words, nothing to be said.

Against the tide, we’d prevailed.