((Collab between Letter and Vulkan))

[b][i]Timeskip to Noonday[/i][/b]

The city can prepare all it liked, but nothing can stop the terror that came when, at the height of the day, the whirring of a Vertibird was heard from the east of the city, the flying machine coming into sharp relief as drew closer to the defensive lines hastily set during the night. 

"They're here, men!" Major Bentsworth of the Liberty Island militia shouted as crude rocket fire mixed with assault rifles to collide uselessly against the underbelly of the vessel, which responded with a withering hail of fire from its machine guns and missile launchers, scattering the defenders. As it arrived over the city centre, ten Enclave troops, divided into five pairs, jumped down into the city square that was situated right next to the Statue of Liberty, and shouted:

"This area is now under the control of The Enclave! Throw down your weapons and your lives will be spared!" One of them, in [i]purple[/i] Hellfire Armor, then intoned:

"We really mean it this time."

[b][i]The Liberty Island Docks[/i][/b]

Corporal Alex Roniel would be given simple orders; find the Liberty Island docks, then call in a [i]second[/i] Vertibird in order to intercept the population of Liberty Island as they tried to escape via the river. He would be told not to kill anyone...yet. However, if he can find a way to destroy the boats, then he should.

As he hopped out of his vertibird, hitting the floor with a thud, Alex briefly wondered if he should be sent on a mission such as this. Sure, he could sneak pretty well for someone who was clad in ridiculously large and heavy armour, but even so, he had never needed to go on a mission that relied on such a skill exclusively.

Oh well. Command knew best. He could always start shooting if something really bad happened.

Moving foward, he could hear the sounds of the vertibirds above him. It was...soothing. Made him feel if he was being watched, by some large metal god that could carry him in its belly if he needed to get somewhere. 

Ducking inside an gutted building that looked suspiciously like a gift shop, he looked out though the window, and was rewarded by the sight of a jetty, with many people working to get on a boat. Squinting carefully, he made out several armed wastelanders, although not nearly enough to carry out an evacuation. It was a miracle that it hadnt turned into a stampede yet.

Alex didnt have any intention of letting it become so, but he had his orders. He noticed that most of the boats were little more than rafts, with only a few transports being worthy of the name, "Boat"

He decided to deal with those first. But before that...

He raised his rifle, his eye down the scope. He hoped this wouldnt go too badly. He fired, and one of the wastelanders holding a rocket launcher felll to the ground, his head obliterated  along with most of his neck. There was a sudden pause, and the crowd exploded into movement, each soul heading for the boats at twice the speed that they had been going for earlier. To their credit, the eleven men left did their best to stop the crowd and ignored their fallen ally, but to no avail. Alex raised his rifle again, firing several shots into the side of a decrepit fishing boat. The hull had not been built to block high-power laser blasts, and the hull tore open, the blasts hitting the petrol tank. The boat exploded in a ball of fire, throwing several would-be escapees through the air. The boats near it either capsized or were simply thrown away like toys by the force of the blast.

The sniper sighed. How the hell did these people think that those rafts could outrun vertibirds? Either they would get shot to pieces from the air, or they would just overturn and drown. Really, he was doing these people a favour.

He raised his rifle and completely vaporised a shotgun wielding wastelander with another shot. As he did so, he remembered that he had to do something. He spoke into his radio.

[i]"Sir, this is Corporal Roniel.  Refugees are converging on the docks, however i am in the process of destroying their boats. Refugee total is approximately three hundred from last count, while there are only ten guards, none of which have weaponry capable of causing serious damage to our power armour or vertibirds. Orders?"[/i]

"Good job, Corporal!" Colonel Alan Anderson was saying through the radio amid a hail of gunfire, as the roar of...a Yao Guai (Mutated Black Bear)? was heard in the background. "But be careful; some of these 'Muties' have armor-piercing bullets, and they know how to make Molotov Cocktails!" Alex couldn't see it, but two of Alan's group were seriously injured, but not dead. "Either way, good job!"

[@shadowsaint007], [@Madly33], [@Marcus XVI], [@Simple Unicycle], [@jordy0403], [@EvilEdd1984], [@Trevor1001], [@Shadowman215], [@TheUnknowable], [@Lord Coake], [@Vulkan], [@Hjalti].