Creating an Industrial Empire in 19th Century Parallel World

In the city of Taif, the Tactical Aegis Services private army was in their apartments.

"Okay, half of us would be on the night watch, the rest can rest and sleep," Richards said, rising up on his feet. "Since we are forty, twenty would be on duty while the other twenty can get some rest. Let's rotate the shifts every four hours to ensure everyone gets enough sleep and stays alert."

The soldiers nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining a vigilant presence throughout the night. They quickly organized themselves into two groups, with one group preparing to take up their positions for the night watch while the others settled down to rest.

As the soldiers began their shift rotations, the night enveloped the city of Taif in serene darkness. The streets were quiet, with only occasional sounds echoing in the distance. The soldiers stationed themselves strategically across different vantage points, ensuring they had a clear view of their surroundings.

Richards stood atop a rooftop, his eyes scanning the dimly lit streets below. The cool desert breeze brushed against his face, providing a brief respite from the scorching heat of the day. He tightened the grip on his assault rifle, his senses heightened as he remained vigilant.

In the adjacent building, Edward sat near an open window, his gaze fixed on the deserted alleyway stretching before him. The flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. He adjusted his position, maintaining a steady focus on any potential threats that might emerge from the darkness.

The night wore on, each soldier fulfilling their duty with dedication. The moon cast its soft glow over the city, illuminating the intricate architecture and adding a touch of ethereal beauty to the scene. However, the soldiers remained acutely aware that danger could lurk in the shadows.

As the hours passed, the silence was intermittently broken by the distant howling of desert winds and the occasional scurrying of nocturnal creatures. The soldiers maintained their focus, their training guided their instincts, and their camaraderie provided a sense of solidarity and safety.

"I hope this will be a quiet night," Richards said and then heard a rustling noise from afar. He quickly trained his rifle on the source of the noise, his finger ready to press the finger.

"What's the matter, Captain?" Edward asked through the radio.

"I heard something," Richards replied, his eyes fixed on what seemed to be an alleyway. Though there is a clear sky with the moon giving a faint illumination, the shadows in the narrow passageway obscured the source of the sound. Richards remained on high alert, his finger poised on the trigger.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness, moving cautiously towards the streetlamp at the entrance of the alley. Richards squinted his eyes, trying to discern the identity of the person. As the figure stepped into the light, it became clear that it was a young girl, no older than twelve.

She wore tattered clothing and her face bore signs of fatigue and desperation. Richards lowered his rifle, recognizing that the girl posed no immediate threat.

"Stand down, it's just a child," Richards said, sighing.

Edward burst out laughing over the radio, relieved that the situation turned out to be a harmless encounter.

"Captain, I think our nerves could use a break. We were ready for anything, even a tumbleweed, and here we have a little girl," Edward chuckled.

Richards couldn't help but smile, his tension easing as he realized the innocence of the situation. "You're right, Edward. We're trained to expect the unexpected, but sometimes it's a reminder that not everything is a threat."

Just as Richards and Edward shared a moment of relief, a sudden flash of light caught Richards's attention. His instincts kicked in, and he swiftly turned his gaze toward the building located fifty meters away. It was in that split second that he heard the distinctive sound of a gunshot.

Reacting with lightning speed, Richards threw himself to the ground, narrowly evading the bullet that grazed his arm. The searing pain coursed through him, but he refused to let it hinder his response. With adrenaline fueling his actions, he returned fire, aiming at the source of the muzzle flash.

The crack of his rifle echoed through the night as he unleashed a series of well-aimed shots toward the building. The staccato bursts of gunfire filled the air, drowning out all other sounds. The rest of the soldiers, alerted by the commotion, sprang into action, taking up defensive positions and scanning their surroundings for any signs of hostile activity.

Amidst the chaos, Edward's voice came through the radio, his tone urgent.

"Captain Richards, are you alright? What's happening?"

"I've been shot, but I'm still in the fight," Richards replied, his voice steady despite the pain. "I returned fire, the enemy is fifty meters north of my position!"

Edwards redirected the aim of his muzzle toward the direction indicated by Richards. He peered through the scope of his rifle, scanning for any signs of movement or additional hostiles. There was movement—and he fired.

Suddenly, the quiet streets of Taif erupted into chaos as a wave of armed militia flooded the area. They brandished bolt-action rifles and advanced towards the private army's defensive positions, their intent clear—overwhelm and eliminate the threat.

The Tactical Aegis Services soldiers maintained their composure, their training and discipline coming into play. They swiftly adapted to the changing situation, utilizing their superior firepower and tactical expertise to hold their ground.

Edward sighted an another armed militiaman taking cover behind a sandstone wall, his finger gently squeezing the trigger. A precise shot rang out, finding its mark and neutralizing the threat. But there were many more enemies to contend with.

The firefight intensified as bullets whizzed through the air, creating a symphony of danger. The private army soldiers that are on watch moved with precision, coordinating their actions to provide mutual support and cover. They strategically utilized the buildings and structures of Taif as both defensive positions and opportunities for ambush.

As the militia pressed forward, Richards fought through the pain of his wound, leading his team by example. He gritted his teeth, his focus unyielding as he returned fire.

Just as the militia's assault seemed relentless, a cacophony of footsteps and hurried voices echoed through the streets. The soldiers who had been resting awoke to the sound of gunfire, instinctively grabbing their rifles and rushing to reinforce their comrades.

The newly awakened soldiers joined the fray, adding their firepower to the defensive line. They swiftly positioned themselves, providing cover fire and suppressing the advancing militia.

The streets were filled with gunfire as the militia, possibly the ones attacking the mining facility, exchanged shots with the private army. But minutes later, the overwhelming firepower of the assault rifles they were armed with quickly overwhelmed the militia.

As the battle raged on, Richards's attention was drawn to the young girl who had previously emerged from the darkness. Amidst the chaos, she stood frozen in fear, tears streaming down her dirt-streaked face. The sounds of gunfire and the intensity of the situation had overwhelmed her, leaving her paralyzed in the middle of the street.

Richards's heart clenched at the sight, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. He knew he couldn't leave her exposed and vulnerable in the midst of the firefight. With a swift command over the radio, he ordered his soldiers on the ground to prioritize the girl's safety.

"Get her to safety!" he shouted.

His men immediately sprang into action, rushing towards the girl, and grabbing her by the arm. The girl was swiftly taken inside the apartment.

Four minutes later, the militia that attacked were gone, killed.

"All units report! Any casualties?" Richards said.

"We are good Captain!" One of his men said, followed by the rest of the team.

"Shit…we have to get moving."