Red Orchestra

#1
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APRIL 15th, 1972

9:10 AM

QUEENS, NEW YORK
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Jack Bridger walked down to his mailbox, yawning slightly as he did. He'd hit the town a bit hard last night with some buddies, celebrating his promotion. Thankfully, today was a Saturday. Pulling out a few bills, the newspaper, and a flyer about a missing dog, Jack walked back up the path, to where Bernice, his beautiful wife, stood waiting for him. Kissing his wife 'Good Morning', Jack sat down at the breakfast table, where his son Tom and daughter Carla were already eating their cornflakes.

This idyllic scene would soon be shattered by a phone call, one that would shake the close-knit family. Only time would tell whether they could stay together...

"Hello, Jack Bridger speaking." Jack said to his caller

"Major Bridger, this is General Packerman at the Pentagon. The Soviets are invading us, and we're activating all forces, effective immediately." The phone went dead.

Jack swore, and ran upstairs, calling to Bernice to get Tom and Carla down to the shelter.

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9:30 AM

OFF THE US COAST.
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The Soviet Aircraft Carrier/Cruiser Moskva, supported by a powerful fleet of surface ships, steamed towards the American Coast, in full battle orders. On the bridge, Vice-Admiral Ivan Koslov, a stout, balding man in his early 60s, nervously cleared his throat. The man he was addressing, although equal in rank, wore the uniform of the 78th Guards Division, a KGB paramillitary force under the direct command of Comrade Premier Romanov.

"Comrade General, we are approaching the American Coast..."

"Thank you, Comrade Admiral. With your permission, I shall head for the Command and Control centre." Lieutenant-General Evgenii Loganov spoke softly, turning and looking the Admiral in the eyes.

"Of course, Comrade." Koslov said, starting to sweat slightly. Loganov smiled slightly, then left the bridge without a word.

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General Loganov entered the C&C, and recieved the salute. A suprisingly young blonde haired and blue eyed man in his early thirties, he'd gained quite the reputation as a KGB officer, and also as a combined arms strategist. As he reached his computer terminal, the screen flickered into life. A stunning brunette woman wearing the rank markers of a Lieutenant of Army Intelligence looked him up and down.

"Comrade General." she said, walking over and saluting him. "I am Lieutenant Zofia Baranova, your new intelligence officer."

"At ease, Comrade Lieutenant. Give me a status update on the 78th. Are they in position?"

"Yes, sir." Zofia paused and put her hand to her ear. "Stand by, General, I... I have Premier Romanov calling you on channel 6.."

"Da, Lieutenant." Loganov said, then saluted sharply as Alexei Romanov, General Secretary of the CPSU and Premier of the Soviet Union appeared. "Comrade Premier!"

"Ah, Comrade General!" the Premier bellowed jovially, rising from behind his desk. "Welcome to the glorious future of the Soviet Union! I'd like you to meet a little friend." Romanov held up a turtle, and beamed indulgently. "This is Sam, like Uncle Sam!" he laughed loudly. "Say hello, Uncle..."

Loganov schooled his face into neutrality, and let the Premiers' excessive words flow over and around him, like water over a stone. He was used to people trying to wear him down with words, and had gained the useful ability to be able to pick up the important parts of any conversation, while following his own train of thought.

"Understood, Comrade Premier. I shall report back to you once the Pentagon is destroyed." he said finally, saluting once more as the signal was cut.

"Comrade Lieutenant, send a signal to Colonel Ivanov of the 12th Airborne Regiment. His unit will lead the assault on the US Capital."

"Of course, General." Zofia agreed, and began to give the neccessary orders. Loganov leaned back in his chair slightly and steepled his fingers.

"The game is afoot..." he said to himself before chuckling quietly.

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9:38 AM

FORT BRAGG, NEW YORK STATE
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Sgt. Murphy hurridly loaded a fresh belt of ammunition into his M2 as another wave of Soviet infantry descended from the sky. Over his shoulder, he spotted a group of fellow GIs sprint towards a nearby office block, intent on setting up a Forward HQ. "All right, GIs!" he shouted to his squad. "We gotta stop the Reds from doing an Alamo with the base! We gotta take out the bridge that Ivan's using to attack us. Let's go! HOOAH!!"

"HOOAH!" his squad shouted, and the GIs surged forward, supported by an M151 MUTT. The Soviet conscripts opened fire with their AKM assault rifles, and chips of concrete and tarmac kicked up around Murphys' feet as his squad charged towards the hut by the bridge. They were almost there when a particularly loud burst of gunfire rang out, and Taylor and Baker dropped dead. None the less, Murphy soon managed to lead his squad to plant C4 charges on the bridge. With a mighty roar, the bridge was blasted apart and fell into the river. Murphy ordered his squad back, and the GIs double-timed it back to Fort Bragg, Russian gunfire licking at their heels.

Sprinting back into the compound, nursing a shoulder wound, Murphy saw a squad of GIs double into the base, lead by a slim athletic woman wearing fatigue trousers and a blue tanktop.

Captain Tanya Adams, a Green Beret officer and Agent of the US Government, had arrived.

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11:00 AM

US CAPITOL BUILDING, WASHINGTON D.C.
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Soviet soldiers and tanks patroled the centre of the city, and dogs barked as they and their handlers went through the grounds of The Mall, checking for booby-traps. One of these men, Private Sergei Tymoschuck, looked up into the sky at the sound of a helicopter approaching. Within a few seconds, he spotted a Kamov Ka-25 Hormone-C coming around to land in front of the US Senate building. Shouting this out to his superiors, the area became a bustle of excitement as the chopper, identified as coming from the Moskva, touched down.

The side door on the Hormone slid open, and General Loganov climbed out, followed by Lieutenant Baranova. The two Soviet officers jogged over to the steps of the Senate, straightening from their crouched pose once they were clear of the helicopters' blades.

Colonel Ivanov, the Officer who had personally led the assault on Captitol Hill, stood to attention as his Commanding Officer walked over.

"At ease, Comrade Colonel." Loganov said as he returned Ivanovs' salute. "Give me a status report."

"General, we have secured all of the Downtown Washington area, as well as the Andrews AFB."

"Excellent Comrade! Get a Construction Yard operational and set up a base ASAP." Loganov smiled, before turning to Baranova.

"Lieutenant, I will set up my HQ in this building. Notify the Moskva and have my staff assemble for transfer to here."

"Da, General." Zofia said.


When the citizens of Washington came out of their shelters that afternoon, instead of the Stars and Stripes flying from the Mall, they saw the Hammer and Sickle of the USSR. Life would never be the same again....


Or would it?
 
#3
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APRIL 20TH

12:30PM

WASHINGTON, D.C.
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General Loganov, the commander of the 78th Guards Division, and now head honcho of the North-East Corridor region of the Atlantic Seaboard, sat and stewed on his new office in the Senate Building.

'Damn the man! How dare he take the credit for my work!' he thought angrily, remembering the television broadcast where Premier Romanov had awarded the Order of Stalin to General Mikhail Vladimir, a pompous, arrogant bastard who had fled with his tail between his legs the moment his precious Dreadnaught had taken fire from the Amerikanskis. Ever since, he'd become quite insufferable, lording it over the other Commanders.

A button began to flash on the video terminal on his desk.

"If it's Vladimir again, so help me..." Loganov growled, as he reached over to accept the call. The man he saw however, made him jump to his feet.

"Comrade Yuri!"

"Good Evening, General Loganov." the goateed Special Advisor said, in his smooth yet sinister baritone. "You've seen the television news? Yes, of course you have." he said without pause. "I can also see that this has displeased you."

"Damned right it has, Comrade!" Loganov agreed. "That bull-headed brute Vladimir wrecks everything he touches."

"Indeed, Comrade. That is why I am contacting you. I have a special task that I believe you are uniquely suited to."

"I serve the Union, and Mother Russia, Comrade Yuri. What would you have me do?"

Yuri smiled. "All in good time, Comrade. First, let me show you something.." The camera zoomed out, revealing that Yuri was in some sort of laboratory. He held up a small, rather curious object that looked like a tall lamp with a segmented shade.

"This is a prototype of my Psychic Beacon. With this, I can send any message I please to a receptive mind. I intend to place the full scale Beacons everywhere I can in America. Once they are on-line, we shall have the Americans, in mind, body, and if you like, soul."

"Comrade Yuri? Are you saying that this is a Mind Controlling Device?" Loganov spoke slowly.

"Exactly so, General. I sense you have developed a plan for it's use already. I approve of your daring, but first Comrade, begin the Psychic Invasion in New York City. A victory there is sure to raise your stock in the eyes of the Premier. I shall send the details of the Psychic Beacon to your aide-de-camp."

The screen blinked off, and Loganov leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "Fascinating..." he said to himself, steepling his fingers. After a few moments, he contacted the switchboard, and told them to send for Lt. Baranova.

When Zofia entered, with the detailed schematics under one arm, Loganov wore an unpleasant smile.

"Zofia, I wish for your opinion on this, 'Psychic Beacon' device. Can you see any tactical value to this device, beyond the Strategic use outlined by Comrade Yuri?" he asked, looking into her eyes over his steepled fingers.

"Da, Comrade General. A few thoughts have come to my mind..." Zofia agreed, laying out a few ideas of her own.

"Intriguing.... Deliver a copy of these plans to Major Kamarov, Zofia. I'm sure he would find many uses for this device that maybe even Comrade Yuri has not thought of..." Evgenii said, dismissing Zofia with a wave of his hand. Once Zofia left, Loganov pulled his computer closer to him, before he began to establish battlefield control....

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12:32 PM

NEW YORK CITY
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In downtown Manhatten, a handful of GIs were on patrol along Wall Street. The squad leader, one PFC Anderson, put his hand up all of a sudden, as he saw a group of civillians walk around the corner from Pearl Street and towards the Stock Exchange.

"Halt!" He shouted at the civillians, bringing his M14 rifle to his hip.
 

zeebee1

Well-Known Member
#4
Well the first thing you should do is tell the audience what series your writing for.
 
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