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Held breaths. Quiet murmuring and shushes. The militia’s confidence was hurt somewhat, when they saw the quantity of steel moving towards them, but they had faith in the plan- that their cleverness and will would win the day. The enemy was cautious- uncertain. They spread out as they advanced, though their confidence in splitting their strength was more justified than their opponents’.
Though the Major, alone and looking upwards, noted the aerial scout more than anything else. So long as it was up there, the gambit that was being counted on to buy time might not work…though there was little that could be done about it. Rifles alone were insufficient to attack targets as distant and fast moving as aircraft, even with trained soldiers, let alone these militia. The best they could hope for was to drive it off, and even that was doubtful with this lot. They hardly needed to be distracted from the enemy in front of them as is.
So, she walked over to one of the tankettes- an NfK-5, with a two centimeter rapid fire cannon, the same caliber as was placed on many newer aircraft to combat one another. It hadn’t been designed to use this weapon against aerial targets, but the mount swiveled quite high nevertheless. With how low the autogyro circled…it’d be the best hope of damaging it.
The NfK-5 was an unimpressive vehicle. A cheap but swift little angular box that resisted normal rifle fire but little more, and the Major would have been taller than it if she wore her heels instead of her present combat boots. It looked no more threatening than a city automobile.
“You in there,” she commanded, knocking on the hatch until it opened and an uncertain, unshaved face popped out, the mixture of doubt and fear she inspired reflected in his eyes. The Major pointed to the sky. “If that flying machine crosses your arc of fire,” she closed a fist, “Shoot it down. Do not fire unless you believe you can hit it. Is that understood?” A nod. “Good. As you were.”
