Operation Cherrybomb Finale

After the small skirmish that the group of rogue Rangers initiated, it then shows Houston standing in front of the group responsible for attacking the enemy, with a look of disappointment on his face as he pinches his temple.

"Gentlemen, let's be clear.... I would choose death before betrayal... There is no deceit in death, but betrayal is the willful slaughter of trust," Houston said in a disappointed tone.

"Sir, we saw an opportunity to take action, so I took the initiative and I-" Before the young Ranger could continue talking, Houston cuts him off.

"I gave you strict orders not to engage... Your insubordination could cost us dearly... As of this moment, you are now reassigned to a platoon of the second infantry," Houston said.

"Sir, I-" The Ranger tries to explain, but again Houston cuts him off.

"Get the hell out of my sight," Houston said.

The dismissed Ranger, his expression a mix of frustration and regret, salutes sharply and then turns on his heel, quickly leaving Houston's presence. The other members of the group stand in uneasy silence, casting glances at each other as they absorb the weight of Houston's words.

Houston takes a deep breath, trying to quell the rising tension in the air. He looks at the remaining Rangers, his gaze stern but also carrying a sense of shared responsibility.

As the others, who were nervous that Commander Houston would reprimand them, found relief when he instead dismissed them. He headed back inside the tent, still waiting to give the order to attack. After witnessing what had happened, the girls all observed Houston retreating to his tent.

Inside his tent, Houston, about to sit down, suddenly began coughing intensely. He fell to his knees, feeling his body weaken. Quickly, he pulled a syringe from his back pocket and injected it into his neck. Taking a few deep breaths, Houston cleared his throat and slowly got back on his feet. He then threw away the empty syringe, taking a moment to collect himself.

Meanwhile,

In the camp with the section of North High School, Gunther's crew sat by the fire, cooking their meal. Engaged in a friendly talk in German, Gunther was busy gathering wood for the fire.

As he packed up the wood stash in his hands, Nonna appeared out of nowhere, startling Gunther and causing him to curse at the sudden surprise.

"Jesus... You scared the crap out of me, Nonna," Gunther said.

"Sorry.... Hey Gunther, do you have a moment?" Nonna asked.

"Sure, what's up?" Gunther replied as the two walked together, with Gunther still holding the pile of wood in his hands.

"Remember our talk about when we saw our friends having a relationship working well with them and all," Nonna said.

"Yeah, I remember that talk. What's wrong with it?" Gunther asked.

"Well.... I was thinking about us... and how I still remember you protected me despite having half of your body broken and your arm as you fought off those wild wolves until Houston came in to save us from them... And then the beating you suffered when you were captured. I don't know why... Why do you keep scaring me when you put your life in danger?" Nonna said.

"That.... I don't know.... Mostly because during the time when we were in that very snowy forest surrounded by wolves, I knew for a fact I couldn't leave you there. It didn't feel right or great if I just left you there, but I didn't.... During when I was captured, I couldn't stand and see Jefferson getting brutally beaten for the unfair conditions we were suffering as Americans," Gunther explained as he then placed the logs of wood down. The two sat down and continued talking.

"You know, some of us boys understand the fundamentals of Sensha-Do for you girls — how to make you strong and independent. However, in America, in Tankery, after witnessing those who survived the Dallas Incident and when the league came in to step up for Tankery, Houston, Graham, and Muller, the big three, taught all of us one thing about Tankery: it's about protecting others and taking responsibility for your tank and your team. That's why we're taking responsibility for you girls after you helped us out. We now see you all as sisters in arms, just like our brothers in arms," Gunther said.

"Then... what do you think of me?" Nonna asked, blushing and looking down. Gunther noticed this, and he also blushed as he stuttered a bit until he finally managed to find some words.

"Well... I care about you, Nonna. Out of the boys that Commander Muller and I command, I care about you the most. You see, I never dated a girl before; usually, back home, I was mostly a shy guy. But after what we've been through, Nonna," Gunther said as he then placed his hands on hers, and the two stared into each other's eyes. "My feelings and love grew stronger for you... I love you," Gunther confessed.

Nonna's eyes widened with surprise, and her blush deepened. She looked up at Gunther, her heart pounding, and a mix of emotions painted her expression. After a moment of silence, a warm smile broke on Nonna's face.

"Gunther, I... I love you too," she admitted, her voice soft but filled with genuine emotion.

As they sat by the fire, surrounded by the crackling sounds of burning wood and the camaraderie of their comrades, Gunther and Nonna shared a moment of quiet happiness. The flickering flames cast dancing shadows on their faces as they continued to hold hands, enjoying the newfound connection between them.

Meanwhile, back at Houston's tent, the commander was still recovering from his sudden bout of weakness. He sat at his desk, deep in thought, contemplating the challenges they faced and the responsibility he bore for his troops. Despite his own physical struggles, Houston remained steadfast in his commitment to lead and protect those under his command.

The night pressed on, and the camp settled into a tense calm. The stars shone brightly overhead, providing a quiet backdrop to the complexities of war, relationships, and the unspoken bonds forged in the crucible of conflict.

As the next day passed, it then showed every commander from different schools walking up to Houston's tent. Outside the tent, Ben stood guard and spoke to the group.

"Marshal Commander Houston is not to be disturbed..." Ben stated firmly.

"What is he doing, sleeping?" Graham asked.

"Please, Commander Graham, step away... Commander Houston just needs time," Ben replied.

"Time for what? We've been waiting for three days straight, doing nothing..." Katyusha complained.

"Yeah, I have to agree. We can't just sit here doing nothing. Ben, come on, we need to talk to Houston," Elijah insisted.

"I'm sorry; he doesn't want to be disturbed. Please, step away," Ben reiterated, maintaining his position outside Houston's tent.

However, inside his tent, Houston sat reading his book, aware of the discussions happening outside. Another group approached, and the other commanders turned to see who it was.

"Ah, shit... It's Brock again," Graham mumbled.

"Didn't you have him sitting out for this operation?" Wesley asked Elijah.

"Yeah, I did, but the idiot never listens to me," Elijah replied.

"Where is Marshal Commander Houston?" Brock demanded.

"State your business," Ben said.

"Say the job or raise your sword with a bandit and outrage to the rivers run red with heathen blood," Brock declared.

With that, Houston came out of his tent, not wearing his Commander uniform but a regular gray shirt, and spoke.

"Amen... If you've come to bear arms and finally learn to listen, you'll join your old Commander Elijah under his rank," Houston said.

"I will not be assigned to no boys nor any of these Japanese girls, be clear on that... But we will help you defeat Commander Chiaki alongside you, Houston," Brock declared, and the other Kansas boys who followed Brock nodded in agreement.

"Very well... When I'm ready to attack, I'll give you a sign. Watch for it," Houston instructed.

"Vengeance is mine saith the Lord..." Brock said as he and his group of boys then left Houston and the Joint High School camp alone.

As Brock and his group left the camp, Maho walked right next to Houston and spoke to him.

"Don... You know you can't trust him..." Maho said, looking at Houston with a concerned expression.

"I know... It's like making a deal with the devil..." Houston replied.

A few hours later, in the dense forest next to the camp, someone was trying to make their way through. However, Wesley's Commandos, positioned there, heard something and reacted.

"You heard something, mate?" one of the Commandos asked.

"Yeah, someone is coming through the forest," his buddy replied. The two grabbed their Stern airsoft weapons and fired warning shots.

"Stop right there! Identify yourself!" one of the Commandos shouted.

"Woah, hey, watch your fire, Yankees!" a person shouted in response.

"Hold your fire, men. It's one of the All-Star University officers..." Muller said as he arrived with Wesley and Miho. The three High School commanders saw Rumi not happy after being shot at by Wesley's Commandos.

The scene shifted back to Houston, playing chess with Darjeeling while Orange Pekoe sat behind Darjeeling, watching her Commander play. Rumi approached Houston's tent with two of Houston's Rangers standing behind her.

"Commander Alice likes what you are planning, Houston, because right now all of Chiaki's forces are simply resting or nervous about what's going to happen. Alice said now it's time for your attack..." Rumi reported.

Houston stopped playing, looked at Rumi, and spoke up, wanting to confirm if everything he heard was true.

"Was this really her?" Houston asked.

"Yes, she said to tell Commander Houston and Maho Nishizumi that you were right about waiting but attack now before they boost their morale," Rumi confirmed.

"Very well... I look forward to our battle. But tell your Commander Alice that she'll be looking for a rematch against Miho..." Houston stated.

As everyone prepared for the final battle, Houston and Maho stood side by side, watching their friends and comrades work together. The atmosphere was tense, and the weight of the impending battle hung in the air.

Houston couldn't help but reflect on the aftermath of this battle, considering the potential consequences for both the American and Japanese teams. He pondered the fate of Anderson, who had somehow survived their last encounter in Dallas. Houston had left him in their former headquarters, engulfed in flames, thinking he had met his end. The uncertainties of war lingered in Houston's mind as he contemplated what awaited them beyond this final clash.

Among the myriad of thoughts, Houston also dwelled on the complex relationships that had developed among the American and Japanese teams. Many of his friends and comrades had formed deep connections, some even evolving into romantic relationships. Houston and Maho shared a bond that went beyond the battlefield, their feelings for each other growing despite the challenges they faced.

Their relationship was kept hidden from others, particularly due to Maho's arranged marriage and the cultural differences they navigated. Houston couldn't shake the concern about what would happen to them after the war game concluded. Would they be able to stay together? The question lingered, causing a sense of unease.

Despite the uncertainty, what troubled Houston the most was the fear of losing Maho. Their love had endured the trials of the war game, and they cherished each other deeply. As the final battle approached, Houston and Maho found solace in the shared moments of quiet support, their connection a source of strength amidst the chaos of war. The future remained uncertain, but their commitment to each other endured, holding steadfast in the face of an impending conclusion.

"So... I can see we're all ready... I'm not much of a speech guy, even though some say I give good speeches... What do you think, Maho? Should I give them a great, rousing speech to boost everyone's morale?" Houston asked, jokingly, eliciting a giggle from Maho.

"Yes, actually..." Maho's response surprised Houston, causing him to stop chuckling and give her the most confused look on his face.

"Give them a speech. Something they can carry into this battle..." Maho suggested.

"Right..." Houston said as he cleared his throat and walked to the center of the camp. 

"Hey, listen up!" Houston shouted, commanding the attention of everyone in the camp. The bustling activity came to a halt as they turned their focus to their commander. Houston cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts for the impactful words he was about to deliver.

"Today is the day... We will remember this battle, but let us remember why we are fighting, boys. We're not fighting just to protect our sport from the Federation Sensha Do closing it down. We're fighting because someone tried to take our freedom away after the fall of the Alamo... That same person who killed nine of our boys in a prison camp after the fall of the Alamo. I've held three of my dear men's dog tags in my hands, as has Commander Elijah and Muller, who also hold three of their men's dog tags," Houston declared.

Muller and Elijah stepped forward, each showing three dog tags from their respective schools, emphasizing the gravity of the sacrifices made.

"That same person who tries to put us in fear, that same person who hurt our friends... That tyrant, Commander Chiaki, and her forces of the Federation Sensha Do. Today, we will avenge our dead. We will honor those we lost and the ones we loved. Some of us are born from different states or countries... But mostly for me and my boys that I lead in Davy Crockett High from Texas... We are all sons of Texas, just like my great-great-grandfather said. We give each of our state and country our allegiance; we give them our lives! In the name of Texas, Louisiana, North Dakota, Kansas, Washington, and Japan, ready your weapons and your tanks! And follow me to victory!" Houston's voice rang out with conviction, echoing through the camp.

A surge of determination swept through the gathered troops, united by a common cause and the rallying cry of their leader. They prepared for the battle ahead, fueled by a sense of justice and the desire to stand against tyranny. The atmosphere in the camp was charged with anticipation as they readied themselves for the final confrontation.

In the city of Okata, Sienna still wore her fake face of Commander Chiaki as she observed the High School teams leaving the camp with their tanks. This turn of events puzzled her, and she mumbled under her breath.

"Why is he retreating? What are you planning, Brother..." Sienna mumbled, her thoughts swirling with uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the outskirts of the city, Houston led his forces, with Sherman, Chaffee, Pershing, and the lone Patton tank following Houston's Lone Star tank. The Rangers' infantry walked alongside, some riding on jeeps. Houston turned to his boys from Davy Crockett High and spoke up.

"Hey, play that song again... Um... 'Come to the Bower,' play that," Houston requested.

Just as Houston said that, some of the Rangers began whistling the tune as they marched to the side, while the tank crews joined in, creating a rhythmic and harmonious melody that echoed through the air. The atmosphere among the troops was a mix of determination and camaraderie as they approached the city, ready for the final battle that lay ahead.

https://youtu.be/f2thai_4_60

(This is the type of song I met)

As they reached their designated attack point, Houston ordered his tanks to disengage and instructed his men to maintain silence. The tension in the air was palpable as everyone readied themselves for the crucial moment. Houston took charge, grabbing his radio and checking in with the other commanders.

"Radio in, everyone in position?" Houston queried.

"Grand Lake High Boys are ready, Houston," Graham reported.

"Washington Boys and Girls Academy on standby," Welsey confirmed.

"Kansas Chief High on standby," Elijah relayed.

"North High on standby," Muller reported.

"Ooarai Academy... ready," Miho said, her voice reflecting a mix of determination and nervousness.

"Saunders University High ready," Kay stated with enthusiasm.

"St. Gloriana on the ready, Houston," Darjeeling spoke with calm assurance.

"Pravda High is ready!" Katyusha declared.

"We're ready at our end, Don," Maho assured.

"Okay, good... Welsey, order the M7 Priest to fire..." Houston directed, preparing for the next phase of the operation. The synchronized efforts of the Allied High Schools were about to be set into motion, with each commander and their respective teams poised for the impending battle.

With the thunderous roar of the M7 Priest cannon tanks, five shells soared through the air, slamming into the Federation's defenses. The sudden artillery attack sent shockwaves through the enemy lines, spooking the girls and creating chaos in their ranks. Houston seized the moment, shouting a rallying cry that echoed across the battlefield.

"REMEMBER THE ALAMO!" Houston's voice cut through the noise as he led his force forward. The Rangers took up the cry, repeating, "Remember the Alamo!" as they charged into battle, their determination evident in their every step.

On the right flank, four American High Schools surged forward in a coordinated assault. The charging cries of Houston's Rangers, Welsey's Commandos, Canadian forces, Muller's Wehrmacht infantry, Graham's infantry, and Elijah's Comanche infantry created a symphony of war cries. Alongside them, their tanks rumbled forward, ready to engage in the battle.

Meanwhile, on the left side, all the Japanese schools joined forces in a unified charge. Their coordinated attack gave the Federation little time to prepare as they scrambled to gather any remaining Leopard tanks or airsoft weapons to defend their last stronghold.

The battlefield erupted into chaos as the Allied High Schools pressed forward, determined to reclaim their freedom and avenge the fallen. The clash of steel, the roar of engines, and the shouts of warriors filled the air, marking the beginning of the final, decisive battle.

Airsoft pellets filled the air as Joey led his boys into battle, strategically taking cover within the city. His men fought fiercely, clearing buildings of Federation girls as they pushed forward. The urban landscape became a battleground, with the crackling sound of airsoft gunfire echoing through the streets.

Amidst the chaos, the Rangers moved relentlessly through the city. Some engaged in close-quarter combat, fighting hand to hand against the enemy, while others fired their airsoft weapons at those who dared to challenge them. The intensity of the battle escalated as they moved deeper into Federation territory.

On the tank front, Federation Leopard tanks engaged in fierce combat against the Allied High School tanks. The clash of steel and the rumble of engines reverberated through the city as both sides vied for control.

Amid the tumult, Sienna, still wearing her impassive mask, emerged from her private quarters. Seeing the chaos unfolding, she maintained her composed demeanor and began issuing orders to the Federation infantry. Despite the pressure, she urged them not to retreat but to stand and fight.

As the battle in the city raged on, Dean and his squad of Rangers entered the fray. Hector, having expended his airsoft ammunition, tossed his weapon aside and taunted two Federation girls to come at him.

"Come on!" Hector shouted, inviting the challenge.

The first girl attempted a headbutt, but Hector swiftly countered with a punch. Meanwhile, the second girl swung her baton at him, but Hector disarmed her and knocked her off her feet. However, the first girl managed to sweep his feet, causing him to fall.

Gus, seeing his friend in trouble, intervened. He flipped the first girl over his shoulder and engaged her in hand-to-hand combat. Sean grappled with another Federation girl, wrestling for control of the airsoft rifle between them. From the side, another girl closed in, ready to overrun Sean.

Just in the nick of time, Huritt charged in with Indian war cries. He tackled the approaching girl to the ground, pinning her down and swiftly incapacitating her. The combined efforts of Dean's squad and Huritt from Elijah's Comanche group overwhelmed the Federation girls, turning the tide in the close-quarter combat within the city. The Rangers fought with determination, using their diverse skills to gain the upper hand in this intense battle.

"Keep that gun firing, Scott! Grant, continue loading that gun! Troy, keep driving and avoid those Leopard tanks! 'Machine', lay down suppressing fire on that machine gun!" Houston barked out orders to his Lone Star crew as the tank battle raged on.

"Houston, watch out!" Muller's voice crackled over the radio.

The Lone Star tank swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision with another tank. Muller's Tiger 1 tank swiftly responded, taking out the Leopard tank that had posed a threat to Houston's tank. The battlefield shook as shells and gunfire echoed around them.

As they continued to fight, Muller's tank experienced a jolt as a Leopard tank fired a shell that ricocheted off its armor. Muller shouted in German, issuing commands to his crew to return fire.

"Für Deutschland! Wir sind hier, um Deutschland zu verteidigen!" one of Muller's gunners shouted from inside the tank as they fired, successfully disabling the Leopard tank. White flags popped out, indicating the tank's defeat.

"Always speaking German, are you, my old German friend?" Graham's voice came over the radio as he piloted his M1 Abram. The Allied High School tanks continued to engage the Federation tanks, each crew fighting fiercely to defend their side and gain the upper hand in the tank battle. The air was filled with the sounds of engines, gunfire, and radio communications as the armored units clashed on the battlefield.

As the tank battle continued, the crews of Lone Star and the other Allied High Schools demonstrated their expertise in armored warfare. Shells thundered through the air, and the ground shook with the impact of explosions as the tanks maneuvered through the chaotic battlefield.

"Nice shot, Muller! Keep them coming!" Houston commended over the radio, acknowledging the timely assistance from the Tiger 1 tank.

Graham, in his M1 Abram, continued coordinating with the Lone Star crew and others to maintain a coordinated assault on the Federation's Leopard tanks.

"Scott, target that one on the left! Grant, load armor-piercing rounds!" Houston directed, focusing on a specific Leopard tank that posed a significant threat.

Meanwhile, Muller's Tiger 1 engaged another Federation tank, the crews inside shouting commands and encouragement in German. The battlefield echoed with a mix of languages, reflecting the diverse backgrounds of the Allied High Schools.

In the midst of the intense tank battle, the Lone Star crew showcased their determination and teamwork. The distinct sound of gunfire from 'Machine,' the tank's machine gunner, added to the cacophony of battle.

"Keep it up, Machine! Suppress their fire!" Houston ordered, recognizing the crucial role of suppressing the Federation's defensive capabilities.

As the Allied High School tanks continued their assault, the crew members demonstrated not only their combat skills but also their resilience and camaraderie. The fate of the battle hung in the balance, and each action, each shot fired, played a crucial role in determining the outcome of this decisive clash. The armored units clashed with unwavering determination as the battle for victory in the tank warfare intensified.

Sienna, recognizing the threat posed by Houston's Lone Star Sherman tank, quickly ordered one of the Flak 88 cannons under her command to target the advancing armored vehicle.

"Fire at that Sherman!" Sienna shouted, and the massive anti-aircraft cannon pivoted to aim at the Lone Star Sherman.

The Flak 88 unleashed its powerful shot, and the shell collided with the side armor of Houston's tank. The impact was significant, disabling the Sherman and causing it to shake from the force of the hit. Inside the tank, the crew reacted swiftly to the situation.

"Troy, abandon the tank! Grab your airsoft weapons!" Houston ordered, recognizing the need to continue the fight on foot.

As the white flag signaled the temporary defeat of the Lone Star tank, Troy and the rest of the crew quickly exited the disabled Sherman. Armed with airsoft Thompsons and M3 Grease Guns, they prepared to continue the battle on the ground. The city streets became a new battleground as the Allied High School forces engaged in intense infantry combat, determined to press on against the Federation's defenses.

Out in the chaotic battlefield, Houston's crew, having abandoned their disabled Lone Star tank, regrouped with Jefferson's Patton tank. The Vice Commander's voice rang out over the explosions and gunfire.

"Houston, stick by my tank! I'll keep you and your crew covered!" Jefferson shouted, and Houston nodded in agreement. The two tanks maneuvered through the tumultuous battlefield, explosions erupting around them. Houston and his Lone Star crew followed closely behind the Patton tank, using it as cover against the relentless onslaught.

In the heart of the city, Dean, Captain Ludwig, Archie, Sergeant First Class Bidiziil, and Sergeant Master Dillon converged, forming a formidable group of American forces. They fought side by side, their airsoft weapons blazing as they engaged Federation girls in close-quarter combat.

As Dean reloaded his Thompson, a Federation girl seized the opportunity to shoot at him. Quick on his feet, Dean drew his airsoft pistol and fired back, neutralizing the threat. Another opponent swung her rifle at him, but Dean skillfully dodged the attack and retaliated with a powerful strike from his airsoft Thompson.

As the final battle raged on outside, with Allied High Schools closing in on the Federation's last stronghold, Sienna, disappointed by the turn of events, made her way to the holding cell where Chiaki was confined. The building shook from explosions, and the muffled sounds of fighting filled the air.

Inside the cell, Chiaki, battered and with bandaged hands and knees, sat in contemplation. She reflected on her actions and the consequences that had unfolded, questioning how it had come to this point. She knew her initial intention had been to defend Sensha Do against what she saw as an American imitation, but the path she had taken had led to unintended and tragic outcomes.

The door to the cell opened, and Sienna entered with a look of disappointment on her face. She addressed Chiaki, expressing her disappointment at witnessing a proud woman defending her culture's sport against the Americans end up in such a situation.

"What do you want from me?" Chiaki questioned in a somber tone.

Sienna, however, had a specific demand. "What I want is your word. Ever since Commander Anderson enlisted you as our ally, you failed to keep these brats away from our business. We want to ensure that if you're questioned by the authorities or by Commander Houston, you won't say anything. Otherwise..." Sienna trailed off ominously, pulling out a knife.

"I'll cut your tongue out... Understand?" Sienna threatened, the gravity of the situation hanging heavily in the air. The war had reached its climax, and the consequences for those involved were becoming increasingly dire.

Chiaki, faced with Sienna's ominous threat, met the situation with a somber and resigned demeanor. The gravity of the events weighed heavily on her shoulders as she considered the potential repercussions of her actions.

"I understand," Chiaki replied, her voice reflecting a mix of defeat and acceptance. In the midst of the chaos and destruction surrounding them, the two women found themselves in a moment of tense negotiation within the confines of the holding cell.

Sienna, with a stern expression, scrutinized Chiaki's response. Satisfied that she had conveyed the severity of the situation, Sienna withdrew her knife. The two women remained in a silent understanding, acknowledging the grim reality of their circumstances.

Outside the cell, the battle raged on, the sounds of warfare providing a dissonant backdrop to the clandestine exchange within the prison walls. The fate of the war, the Allied High Schools' final assault on the Federation's last stronghold, hung in the balance.

"Now then time to deal with you brother..." Sienna said as she walked somewhere outside of the cell

The city lay in ruins, a testament to the fierce battle that had unfolded within its streets. Tanks from both Allied High Schools and the Federation were scattered across the snowy landscape, remnants of the intense conflict that had unfolded.

Maho, leading the Japanese schools alongside tanks from the American forces, strategically positioned themselves for the final assault on the last building stronghold. Graham, in his M1 Abram, and Joey, in his T-28, joined the charge with a few remaining Grand Lake boys utilizing T-34 tanks. The combined force resembled a formidable army, reminiscent of a historical siege, converging on the final objective.

As they closed in on the last building, resembling the Reichstag, Houston, now on the ground and armed with his BAR airsoft, rallied his Rangers and tank crew. The anticipation hung in the air as everyone held their positions, waiting for the signal to commence the final assault.

"Wait for the signal, boys and girls! It's almost over, and we will win this fight for ourselves," Houston declared, his voice carrying the determination of a leader ready for the last push.

With everyone in position, the whistle blew, signaling the start of the final charge. Houston, once again at the forefront, led the charge towards the last building stronghold. However, the formidable 88mm anti-aircraft guns opened fire, attempting to halt the advance by targeting the Allied High School tanks.

Captain Ludwig, armed with his MP-40 airsoft, spotted the firing positions of the 88s and urgently informed Houston of the threat.

"Kommandant, we've got 88s out there! They're trying to stop our advance against our armor!" Ludwig shouted in his distinct German accent.

"Then we have to take them out to clear a path for our tanks!" Houston replied, the urgency of the situation pushing the Allied High Schools to eliminate the threat and secure victory in the final assault. 

Houston, acknowledging the immediate threat posed by the 88mm guns, swiftly formulated a plan to neutralize them and allow the Allied High School tanks to advance. The sound of gunfire and explosions resonated through the city as the battle reached its climax.

"Rangers, with me! We're taking out those 88s!" Houston commanded, rallying his elite team of Rangers. Armed with airsoft rifles, they moved with purpose, navigating through the war-torn streets towards the strategically positioned anti-aircraft guns.

At the same time, Maho coordinated with the Japanese schools and the remaining American tank crews to focus their fire on the 88mm guns. Graham, Joey, and the Grand Lake boys targeted the firing positions, attempting to disable the guns and create a path for the advancing Allied High School tanks.

The streets echoed with the clattering of airsoft gunfire as Houston's Rangers engaged in a close-quarters skirmish with Federation infantry defending the 88mm guns. Dean, Gus, Hector, and the others fought valiantly, using their expertise and teamwork to clear the path.

On the tank front, Graham's M1 Abram, Joey's T-28, and the T-34 tanks rolled forward, unleashing a barrage of airsoft rounds at the entrenched Federation forces. Captain Ludwig, leading a contingent of German-themed tanks, added his firepower to the assault.

As the battle unfolded, Houston reached the first 88mm gun position. With a swift and coordinated assault, the Rangers took control, preventing further fire from the deadly anti-aircraft weapon. The plan was in motion, but the fight was far from over.

"Keep pushing! Secure those 88s!" Houston shouted, signaling to his Rangers and the Allied High School forces to press on and eliminate the remaining threats. The fate of the battle hinged on their ability to overcome the last line of defense and seize victory in the war game.

Muller, having faced adversity as his Tiger-1 tank was disabled, wasted no time rallying his crew and joining Captain Ludwig and the German-themed tanks on the front lines. The unexpected appearance of their Kommandant on the battlefield boosted morale and determination among the men.

"We've got to help Houston and his Rangers secure those guns! Let's move!" Muller shouted, and his men, armed with MP-40s, Stg 44s, and Kar98 airsoft rifles, responded with a collective nod.

Together, they fought through the war-torn streets, engaging Federation infantry and clearing a path to secure the 88mm guns. The collaboration between Houston's Rangers and Muller's men showcased the unity forged through the challenges of the war game.

Once the first hard push was made, Houston signaled to the tanks to advance. The Allied High School forces, now reinforced by Muller's infantry, pressed forward to secure the remaining 88mm guns. 

As the Federation girls who had been defending the last CP surrendered, dropping their airsoft guns and raising their hands, a wave of relief swept through the Allied High Schools. The infantry boys cautiously approached the surrendered girls, checking for any hidden traps, but finding none.

Cheers and celebrations erupted among the victorious Allied forces. Kay and Graham, Gunther and Nonna, Scott and Naomi—couples and comrades alike embraced, some sharing kisses amidst the jubilation. Houston, observing the scene with a smile, felt a sense of accomplishment. Jefferson and Sergeant Dean joined him, expressing their satisfaction.

"We did it... We finally won," Jefferson remarked, the relief evident in his voice.

"Damn right we did, Vice Commander. We finally did it. Right, Commander Houston?" Dean asked, seeking affirmation.

Houston, however, sensed that something wasn't quite right. Despite the celebration, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The unexpected surrender of the Federation, especially considering Chiaki's known determination, raised questions. Houston decided to investigate and voiced his concerns.

"Yeah... Hey, tell Red to fly himself over here. There's something we must do after... I need to look for Commander Chiaki," Houston declared.

"Alright, will do, sir. You want a couple of Rangers to go with you?" Dean offered.

"No, I'll be fine. Just join the others," Houston replied as he made his way into the building alone. The atmosphere outside remained festive, but Houston's instinct told him that there were matters left to address, and the outcome of the war game might not be as straightforward as it seemed.

Entering the building, Houston noticed it was empty, with only airsoft weapons and equipment left behind. Not liking the eerie silence, he drew his knife and live rounds pistol from his holster, readying himself as he moved quietly through the large building.

As Houston approached a room, he kept his back against the wall, cautious of potential threats. Just as he was about to peek into the room, someone else revealed themselves. Simultaneously, Sienna emerged, her live rounds pistol loaded and pointed directly at Houston.

The sudden encounter surprised them both, and they swiftly engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Blocks, punches, and kicks were exchanged as the two grappled, but they managed to separate from each other. Houston and Sienna simultaneously raised their pistols, locking eyes in a tense standoff.

"Brother... It's been too long," Sienna said."

"Where is Commander Chiaki... Did you and Anderson kill her?" Houston demanded.

"No, she's alive... barely. Now that you're here, we can settle who is the true heir of our family legacy," Sienna responded.

"Clear me, since I'm full-blooded, while you were born from a different woman, making you half-blooded," Houston asserted.

The tension in the room hung thick as Houston and Sienna faced each other, their pistols raised in a standoff. The dim light revealed the wear and tear on the walls, reflecting the scars of the intense battle that had raged throughout the building.

Sienna's gaze remained unwavering as she spoke with conviction. "Bloodline doesn't define the true heir, Brother. It's about who possesses the strength and conviction to lead."

With those words, the room erupted into action. Houston and Sienna lowered their pistols, opting for a hand-to-hand confrontation that echoed with the sounds of swift movements and the occasional clash of their bodies. The fight was a dance of combat, each sibling anticipating the other's moves.

Houston, with his training and experience, displayed a disciplined and precise fighting style. Sienna, on the other hand, fought with a blend of agility and ferocity, her movements reflecting a more unorthodox but effective approach.

The struggle intensified as they exchanged punches and kicks, each blow carrying the weight of their shared history and the clash of their ideologies. Despite the familial bond that once connected them, the room became a battleground where their differences played out physically.

As Sienna kicked Houston out of the room, she quickly retrieved her pistol from the floor and began firing at him. Houston, moving swiftly, managed to dodge the bullets, and in a sudden burst of speed, he disappeared from Sienna's line of sight.

Recognizing that Houston had evaded her, Sienna retrieved thermal goggles from her pouch and swiftly put them on. The thermal vision revealed Houston's footprints, and she cautiously followed the trail through the building.

Outside, a P-51 Mustang landed near the Okata city airport airstrip. Red, disembarking from the plane, made his way toward the gathered high schoolers. The atmosphere was filled with celebration, and the remaining Federation prisoners were lined up, hands behind their heads, under the watchful eyes of the Rangers.

Dean approached Red, exclaiming, "Ah, the younger brother of Commander Houston has arrived! We did it, Red! We won!"

"Yeah, I can tell. Hey, has anyone seen my older brother?" Red inquired. The joyous atmosphere dampened as the search for Houston began among the victorious Allied forces.

Inside the building, in a boys' restroom, a solitary cardboard box stood, seemingly abandoned. Sienna, entering the room, noticed the box and sinisterly smiled. She fired three rounds into the box, thinking she had successfully eliminated Houston. As she tipped the box over to confirm her kill, to her surprise, there was nothing inside.

Unbeknownst to Sienna, a vent hatch in the restroom was open behind her. Houston had hidden in the vents, and taking advantage of her confusion, he swiftly emerged, silently closing the vent behind him. In a sneak attack, Houston approached Sienna from behind and applied a chokehold.

While in the chokehold, Sienna fought back by elbowing Houston three times, attempting to break free. After a series of struggles, Sienna finally managed to escape the chokehold. The two engaged in a fierce exchange of punches, with Houston grabbing Sienna's leg as she attempted to kick him. In a quick and calculated move, Houston swept her leg, sending her crashing to the floor. The battle between the siblings continued, echoing through the empty restroom.

The fight in the restroom continued with relentless intensity. Houston and Sienna exchanged blows, each sibling pushing their limits in a quest for dominance. Sienna, determined to prove her strength, surprised Houston with a sudden burst of agility and skill, stunning him momentarily.

As Houston momentarily staggered, Sienna seized the opportunity to break free. With a swift and unexpected move, she delivered a powerful kick to Houston's midsection, temporarily stunning him. Taking advantage of the opening, Sienna swiftly maneuvered away, creating some distance between them.

As Houston silently moved through the building, checking his surroundings and spitting out blood, he remained vigilant. Unbeknownst to him, Sienna had chosen a different path, utilizing the vent that Houston had used earlier to crawl through undetected.

Descending from the vent, Sienna kicked open one of the hatches and dropped down, finding herself in a dimly lit hallway. Believing she had momentarily lost Houston, she took a moment to reload her pistol. However, her respite was short-lived when the lights in the building suddenly went out.

Reacting quickly, Sienna loaded a new magazine into her pistol and breached a large door leading to a dark, cavernous room where political gatherings were typically held. Equipping her thermal goggles to navigate the darkness, she began scanning the area, unaware of Houston's presence.

In the darkness, Houston lit a cigarette, the small flame providing the only source of light. As Sienna pointed her pistol in different directions, she failed to notice the subtle glow of the cigarette behind her. Taking advantage of the shadows, Houston remained concealed, pistol in hand.

"You're Pretty Good..." Sienna muttered to herself, unaware that Houston was silently observing her every move. The tension in the room escalated as the siblings prepared for the inevitable confrontation in the darkness.

"Meanwhile, back to Red, it shows him entering the building with flashlights, but he wasn't alone. Anzu, Yuzu, Momo, and Miho followed. Red walked calmly, annoyed that he had entered alone to find his brother, but Anzu insisted they come. She even bargained with Red, using Miho as leverage just to mess with him.

"I can't believe you used Miho as your bargaining chip to convince me to let you guys come along with me," Red said as he walked through the empty, dark hallway. "Plus, I don't know why you wanted to come?" he asked.

"Well, we haven't spotted Commander Chiaki among the prisoners. I thought she would be there, and also I have a question or two for myself," Anzu replied, causing Red to sigh.

"Fair enough," Red said.

As Red and the group ventured deeper into the building with their flashlights cutting through the darkness, they navigated through the maze-like corridors. The silence was only interrupted by the distant echoes of the ongoing celebration outside.

After a series of turns, they stumbled upon a dimly lit hallway, and there it was—the holding cell area. Rows of cells lined the walls, and within one of them, they finally spotted a figure sitting in the shadows.

Approaching cautiously, Red's flashlight illuminated the face of the person inside the cell. Anzu, Yuzu, Momo, and Miho followed closely, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. As the light revealed Commander Chiaki, her hands and knees bandaged from the earlier confrontation with Anderson, there was a tense silence.

"Commander Chiaki," Red called out, breaking the silence. "What happened here? Why did your forces surrender?"

Chiaki looked up, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and defeat. "It's over. We lost," she replied with a resigned tone.

Anzu, ever the inquisitive one, couldn't resist asking, "Why did you surrender? We expected you to fight till the end."

Chiaki sighed. "I made a tactical decision. I didn't want things to go this far, but I was forced to. Even during the time I was accused of the murder of those nine boys, I never gave such orders to kill them... I... I never did."

"Then who is? Who is responsible for providing all these weapons, and why are you helping him... Why help Anderson?" Red asked.

"Even if I do tell you... I will be dead... Along with my family. I can't say anything about him or his plans. If I do... He promised he would kill them..." Chiaki said.

"Okay... Okay... If you can't say anything about him... Then who was leading your forces while you were here?" Anzu asked.

"The Vice Commander..." Chiaki replied.

That's when Red and the group heard a single gunshot echo throughout the building....

"Don!" Red shouted as he quickly ran out, with Miho following behind. Anzu, Momo, and Yuzu stayed behind to get Chiaki out of the cell. As Red continued running, he heard two gunshots and then another two.

In the dark room, flashes of gunshots illuminated Sienna and Houston shooting at each other repeatedly until they did it for the final time. Realizing she hadn't hit Houston, Sienna grabbed her MP5 from her back, loaded it, and started firing randomly into the dark room where Houston might be.

Houston rolled for cover, narrowly avoiding the bullets, though one grazed his right cheek. Sienna continued firing until she emptied the magazine. When the lights turned back on, she took off her goggles, only to see that she had hit the walls and windows of the large room.

Searching for Houston, Sienna didn't expect him to move so fast. He quickly suplexed her to the ground, causing her to lose her guns.

Quickly getting up from the floor, Sienna glared at Houston and drew her knife from her boot. Houston drew his knife from its holster, and the two circled each other, slowly moving around. They then closed in on each other.

As they began fighting at close quarters, dodging and deflecting each other's blades, Sienna managed to land a hit, making a large cut on Houston's chest. Blood spilled on the floor as Houston quickly backed away, covering the wound with his left hand. Despite the injury, he looked up at Sienna.

Sienna's knife was stained with Houston's blood, and she had a smirk on her face, knowing she could make him bleed and potentially kill him. The two got back into their fighting positions, ready to end it.

The door to the room opened, revealing Red, who saw his older brother Don engaged in a life-or-death fight against this mysterious girl who bore a striking resemblance to both Houston and their father. Confused by the situation, Miho was also shocked to witness the intense battle unfold, with blood dripping from Houston's chest as he and Sienna were on the brink of ending the fight.

As the fight resumed, Houston skillfully dodged Sienna's blade, narrowing avoiding each strike. Suddenly, he delivered a powerful backhand punch and swiftly stabbed her twice in the chest. Sienna screamed in pain as Houston kicked her away.

Feeling the intense pain in her body and realizing Houston's knife was embedded in her chest, Sienna attempted to remove it, only to find her own knife missing. Looking up, she saw Houston holding her knife, ready to end it all with one decisive strike.

In a swift motion, Houston delivered the final blow, silencing Sienna's screams. Miho averted her gaze from the gruesome sight, unable to watch as Houston took someone's life. Red, though disturbed, couldn't look away, witnessing how his older brother took down Anderson's Vice Commander—a necessary act, despite the difficulty of the decision.

Breathing heavily, Houston took a few deep breaths after finishing the intense confrontation with his half-sister. As he caught his breath, he heard the approaching footsteps of Red and Miho.

"Brother, are you alright?" Red asked, concerned for Houston's well-being.

"I'm fine, just a few scratches," Houston replied.

Miho, however, insisted on taking him to Ben for a thorough checkup. As they began leaving the meeting room, the trio stopped in their tracks as they encountered Anderson in the hallway, casually smoking a cigar.

"Anderson!" Houston exclaimed with anger in his tone.

"Not bad. I can see why you wanted to smoke these Cuban cigars, Houston. Too bad you're a cigarette man," Anderson remarked.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Red questioned.

"Red Houston, the Red Ace. I thought you were dead. It appears I didn't quite kill you when I ordered the shootdown of your plane during the Dallas match three years ago," Anderson revealed.

"Cut the bullshit, Anderson. What the hell are you doing here?" Houston demanded.

"Tying up loose ends and reclaiming the money that the League stole from the association, so I can have the funds to create my own private nation on this island," Anderson explained.

Houston reacted swiftly, grabbing his pistol and aiming it at Anderson, who responded with a crazed smirk under the mask he wore.

"Put down the gun, Houston. It's already too late. You almost did it, but in the end, I win after all," Anderson declared.

But Houston didn't back down. He drew his knife, ready for any confrontation, all while still keeping his pistol aimed at Anderson. Anderson, seemingly unfazed, casually walked up to Houston and extended a cigar towards him.

"Care for one last smoke? I know you've been wanting to try this cigar," Anderson suggested.

"Do you consider yourself some kind of Big Boss in all of this, Anderson?" Houston questioned.

Without answering Houston's question directly, Anderson blew a puff of cigar smoke into Houston's face, causing him to cough. Anderson continued to smoke, seemingly reveling in the discomfort caused by the smoke.

"Guilty as charged," Anderson finally admitted with a smug grin.

Looking away from Houston, Red, and Miho while still holding the cigar in his hand, Anderson spoke.

"All of this ends today... Don," Anderson declared as he swiftly threw the cigar at Houston's face. In a quick reflex, Houston attempted to dodge, but Anderson skillfully disarmed him, taking away Houston's pistol. Trying to retaliate, Houston aimed a stab at Anderson, but Anderson deftly redirected the knife, embedding it into Houston's right shoulder, causing him to grunt in pain and fall to his knees.

Red rushed to help his older brother, but he, too, was quickly subdued. Anderson's taunting words echoed in the room.

"Remember what I said? The real fun is about to begin."

Just then, the exit door burst open, revealing Graham, Muller, Welsey, Elijah, Darjeeling, Maho, Kay, Katyusha, and several groups of Rangers, Commandos, Wehrmacht, Elijah Comanche boys, and Graham's boys. They all had real rifles, confiscated from Anderson earlier, aimed at him.

"We've got you now, you son of a bitch!" Graham shouted.

Dean entered, grabbing Commander Houston, while Sean assisted Red, taking them away from Anderson.

"Surrender now, Anderson. You've got nowhere to go!" Muller ordered.

Seeing the overwhelming force against him, Anderson began laughing maniacally, realizing that this was the culmination of his twisted plan. Despite Houston's attempt to stop the confrontation, Graham issued the final order.

"Aim!" Graham shouted.

"Wait, stop!" Houston desperately yelled.

However, his plea went unheard, and Graham, undeterred, gave the command.

"Fire!" Graham ordered.

The clicking sound echoed, puzzling many of the boys as Graham and Muller pulled out their pistols, only to hear more clicking. Anderson, however, found amusement in their confusion.

"Do you really think the guns you stole from my dead men's corpses would give you an edge against me? Well, they are no longer yours. Those weapons are imprinted in the system that I control!" Anderson declared, forming his right hand into a makeshift gun and pointing it at himself, shouting, "Bang!"

Suddenly, nearly every boy in the room was overwhelmed by a piercing headache. Some screamed in pain, others pounded their fists on the ground, writhing in agony. Elijah and Welsey, observing in confusion, saw even their leaders – Muller, Graham, Houston, and Red – succumbing to the pain, along with their respective teams, dropping their weapons and screaming. The room was filled with the chaotic sounds of suffering.

Maho quickly checked on Houston, holding him carefully as he groaned in pain. Glancing over at her younger sister, who was watching Red endure similar suffering, she felt a mix of concern and determination.

Meanwhile, the door behind Anderson burst open, revealing the remnants of the Vermont Tankery Academy boys, armed and ready. Anderson gestured with his makeshift guns, mimicking machine gun fire, and his boys followed suit, unleashing a barrage of gunfire on the high schoolers. Elijah and Wesley ordered their boys to take cover, with some diving to shield the girls. Unfortunately, a few of the boys were hit, and Anderson reveled in the chaotic symphony of gunshots.

Still laughing, Anderson looked up in the air and shouted, "You see this, Mr. Director! I am victorious! Behold as I control the military guns, as I called it! GUNS OF THE PATRIOTS!!"

As the onslaught continued, Anderson glanced over at Houston, who was in cover, and gave him a crazed smile beneath the mask. Anderson ordered his men to stop firing, and as he prepared to leave, he instructed one of his men to hand him a makeshift Molotov cocktail. Lighting the rag with his lighter, Anderson looked back at Houston and spoke, "Farewell, Houston!" as he threw the flaming bottle.

Time seemed to slow down. Anderson slowly pulled out his pistol while Houston, in a split-second decision, pulled Maho away from the path of the incoming bottle. Reacting with precision, Anderson shot the bottle in mid-air, causing the flaming liquid to scatter. However, some of the burning residue reached Houston, scorching his right arm and half of his face, eliciting agonizing screams.

Laying on the ground with half of his face suffering from first or second-degree burns along with his arm, Houston screamed in pain. Maho, panicked and teary-eyed, rushed to his side to tend to his injuries. In the midst of his agony, Houston's voice, now fueled by both pain and anger, boomed through the chaos.

"ANDERSON!"

To Be Continue in..... The Last Hound

A/N: Now things got really spice you think that over it? Not yet.... Also here your daily meme