A Battle Unseen

[Dredd]

[Etxea Proper, February 5633 ]

Slabodan could barely control his excitement, him and his men had stormed the presidents palace and made it out alive, and now it was time to strike at the heart of the traitor scum that dared side with the rebels instead of joining them. Bombs filled with volatile Sladite, the 1000 degree burning mustard gas made by the Legions finest along with multiple Sarin bombs were deployed in 2 dozen locations. Most of them on the outskirts of neighborhoods and some inside to box them in, 80 paramilitaries and agents deployed around the surroundings with gasmask, gloves, and the best chemically treated clothes they had available, some just soaked them in urine for lack of anything better. They would mow down whoever survived and regroup at their HQ's to load up and find new stakeouts, if this worked they'd be the most hunted freedom fighters in Terra.

Slabodan and his men sat inside the dark abandoned warehouse near their target communicating with them via radio transmitter set up in the back of their UAZ-452, "Captain Slabodan calling in, are all teams in place?"

"Team 1 Dragovich reporting ready"
"Team 2 Mislo Ready"
and one by one, all 10 teams reported ready; assault rifles and grenades prepped, all bomb systems recognizing signals, all cellphone frequencies to IEDS responding. The time had come, they would suffer, the few government offices and police departments nearby would be burning before they could muster anyone to stop their righteous orgy of violence. Slabodan failing to repress a murderous smile toyed with the transmit button before in a spike of adrenaline and dopamine called on the radio, "NOW BROTHERS, DEATH TO THE TRAITORS!!" pushing his detonator. In a series of thundering booms half a mile off he heard them pop off like the stacatto crack of 30 explosions, then he felt the heat, and heard the crescendo of screams, laughing manically he jumped into the drivers seat of his UAZ with his other 7 men slamming the gas as they sped towards the major intersection into the first borough.

Jumping out with gasmasks on and rifles racked, they scanned the first buildings. Women, elderly, off duty soldiers were scrambling away from the aftermath, many with their clothes nearly seared off coughing, some with no hair and many burnt black desperately struggling to breathe. Slabodan cried with fanatical anger and began unleashing full auto into the crowds as they fell one by one screaming and holding their hands up to no avail. Some of the other paramilitaries hesitated before firing, one took off his mask and vomited on the ground which Slabodan smacked with the butt of his rifle rebuking him for his weakness, a few others in the group were in adulation of the brutal killing they were undertaking laughing hands trembling with adrenaline and ecstatic need to kill, even the police cruiser that pulled up beside them coming out with sidearms were shredded by LMG fire from their heavy gunner.

Then soon after expending a few thousand rounds they loaded up into the car and sped off nearly spinning into a ditch in a wild race to get far far away, the rear view mirror showed hundreds of dead with streams of blood running down the sides of the roads and clogging the drains in the concrete. By the end of the day, all other squads reported, about 28 of their 80 men died of return fire, exposure, or got left behind in the race to get away before reprisals soon showed, they knew they had killed thousands and injured thousands more, and many bottles of vodka and songs of sladek were sung at their home bases as they reveled in the union news reporting nearly 3,000 dead and 8,000 wounded, and reported to the mainland.