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| Trial By Fire; CCRPG Marines Compiliation II | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 13 Nov 2008, 09:53 PM (1,126 Views) | |
| Wraith | 23 Nov 2008, 04:38 PM Post #16 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XIV "Morris and Bellik were killed, sir. Morris jumped on a grenade, saved Lundy and Shert's lives. I want a medal for him, sir," Ares said. "He'll get it, Captain. Anything else to report? You're missing more than two men," Captain Ryan replied. "Gunny Calahan and Private Erikson are MIA. Shert, Selucis, Conk, and Bladon all took hits, but only Bladon is unfit for duty, sir." "Very good, Ensign. You know the plan of retaliation. Get going." --------------------------------------------------- Calahan approached the checkpoint ahead, thanking God he hadn't encountered any hostile patrols along the way. When he could positively make out the shape of Marine helmets, Wraith pulled out the emergency flare all Marines carried at all times. He smacked it on the nearby wall, the red smoke fizzing out, and waved it over his head. A few seconds later, two of the Marine guards came rushing over. "Is that a Marine flare?" one shouted, training his rifle on Calahan. "Yes, ye-" Calahan coughed violently, blood spitting out. "Yes it is. Gunnery....Sergeant Jack M. Calahan....Company D, 94th...FIST. Jesus Christ. Either get me an officer or a goddamned medic!" "Right away, Gunnery Sergeant!" one of the Marines said, running off. The other approached him, and Calahan leaned himself on the other Marine, starting to limp back. ------------------------------------------------------- "Acting Platoon Sergeant, bring the platoon into formation," Ares said. Ben nodded. "Pla-TOON, atten-SHUT!" The platoon snapped to attention in squad lines. Ares set his helmet down on the table and started pacing. "We lost two good men from that trecherous attack - Lance Corporal Bellik and PFC Morris. The KRF denies responsibility, but I think we all know who was behind that attack." Several murmurs rose up from the ranks. "QUIET!" Ben boomed. "Now, we go on the attack! We will retaliate! Now, look here," Ares projected an aerial holomap of the entire capital city. "The KRF took the northern half the city in last night's confusion. It's our job - and the Army's job - to take it back!" Most of the Marines in the formation groaned. The Marines and the Army had had an intense dislike for each other for centuries. "Our company's area of operations is Grid Sector Golf, in the northernmost parts of the city. Map: Highlight Marine-Army AOs." The map grids changed colors to blue and red. "The 94th, 86th, and 13th FISTs will clear out the red, upper, sectors of Belligerant, while the doggies clear the blue, lower sectors. The doggies go in on foot, as they are in direct contact with their objectives. We, however, infil by chopper. Now," The map zoomed in to Sector Golf specifically, then again into Sector Golf Bravo. "Golf Bravo is our platoon's specific AO. We clear all of the buildings you see here. And as a secondary objective," Ares smirked. "keep an eye out for these two people - Francois de Holle and Jacques Cartier. They are the heads of this snake. If seen, they are to be captured alive, if reasonably possible. Now, detailed intel briefings will be handed out to-" Suddenly the door to the room barged open, and a Marine dashed up to Ares, whispering something into his ear. His eyes widened. "Are you sure?" "Yes, sir!" "And he's still awake, you said? With that much of a dose? I'll see him immediately," Ares turned to Ben. "Acting Platoon Sergeant, take charge of the platoon. Prep them for T-Time in three hours." "Yes, sir!" Ares left the room with the other Marine. |
![]() CCRPG Marines Currently: Compilation IV: Finest Hour | |
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| Wraith | 23 Nov 2008, 09:52 PM Post #17 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XV Erikson quietly shut the attic hatch and froze, waiting. There were fast footsteps approaching rapidly. He pressed his ear against the hatch. Clump! Clump! Clump! Clump! Clump! They...passed by, taking the bait. Erikson heaved a sigh of relief. "Okay, ma'am, we're safe for now, but we have to keep moving, maybe make our way to a Confederation-controlled area. I suggest you take the time to change now," he whispered. "Excuse me?!" she whispered back, irritated that he would suggest such a thing. "Get behind something and change, because," Erikson eyed a nearby vent, "w're gonna be down and dirty, literally." Morgan noticed what Erikson glanced at. "Very well," she sighed, and went off behind a large stack of boxes. ------------------------------------------------- Ares was standing in the medical observation room at the aid station with one of the doctors, looking out at Calahan's dazed form in the bed. "Ensign, I honestly don't know why he's still alive. He sustained two bullet wounds, several lacerations and puncture wounds, and too many fractures, bruises, and concusion for me to count. I gave him the highest dose of Sorephine possible, but he's still awake. Help me out here, Ensign." Ares smiled. "The wounds I can explain. The painkiller, no. May I speak to him." "I suppose. He said wished to speak to you immediately. However, he is very dazed, and might slur his speech, or spout nonsense." "Duly noted, Captain. I wish to speak with him." "Sure thing, Ensign. I'll let you in." The door buzzed open, and Ares entered. "Hai, Aiwees! Man, thish shtuff sure is potenth. How ya doin'?" Wraith slurred. "Jesus, Wraith, what happened to you?" "Long, or shurt stury?" "Long, preferrably." "Oklay. Well, me, Idit, ind da Minster went out the back, true da secind ballwoom. We wa gonna use die 'mergency exit. Ding is, day bleached in true da windowsh. But shtill, onla one ga not'ced ush. I pushed Idit ind Mergan true da sealed door ind I fought wit da guy. Ah haven't had a fight like dat with someun not frindly in long time." "So, one guy did this to you? Who was he?" "I dunna. I bashed 'ish head to mush. But ah'll rec'nize him if ya show me a picshure." "Okay, Wraith. You get some rest. We've got a war to fight." "Ay, ay, ay! Can't ah fight wit da guysh? Bash shome more shkulls?" "No, no. You just rest a while. You're in no shape to fight." "Fffffuck." |
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| Wraith | 24 Nov 2008, 07:11 PM Post #18 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XVI 94th FIST Forward Command Center, South Belligerant, Euradis "Red! Hey Red!" Ares shouted. "What, Ares? Don't you have a chopper to catch?" Red replied. "Yes, but I need you to do me a favor." "Okay, shoot." "Our resident Iron Man just came in-" "Who?" "Gunny Calahan. He's-" "What the fuck?" "Please let me finish. He's really banged up. He's heavily sedated at the aid station right now. Since I've," Ares checked the time. "got a chopper to catch in five minutes, I could use you talking to him. He said he got in a fight with an assassin employed by the enemy forces." "Wait. I thought you said he was heavily sedated." "That doesn't mean he isn't awake." "Bloody hell." ------------------------------------------------------------------- "Okay, ma'am, you ready?" Erikson asked. "Yes, Mr. Mar-what did you say your name was?" Morgan responded. "I didn't Private First Class Lewis Erikson, reporting for duty, ma'am! I'd salute, but it's cramped in here." "Okay, Mr. Erikson." "Private Erikson, ma'am." "Okay, Private Erikson, I'm ready to go." "I'll go in first. You follow behind," he said. "Okay." Erikson bashed the vent grate in with the butt of his rifle and crawled inside. There was a bend ahead. "Jesus. I think this is the ventilation system for an entire block, looks like. I think this goes over the road to the next warehouse." "Something tells me that isn't a good thing." "Right-o, ma'am. We'll need to be very, very quiet if we pass over the road. We're going to follow the vents two or three warehouses down, then try to find a way back to ffriendly turf on foot. Is that alright, ma'am?" "You know a lot more about this kind of stuff than I do, Private. Lead on." Erikson's heart leapt at the comment. Someone thinks I'm good at something! he thought. He crawled up the duct. There was another grate about midway up the tunnel, pointing down and out towards the stree. It was nearing nightfall, and the it had started pouring again. "Looks like I was right ma'am," Erikson whispered. "This grate looks out down on the street. We need to be-" Suddenly, there was a fast-approaching rumble. A jeep sped by and screeched its brakes not far away. Erikson quinted out the grate. A squad of men leapt out. Most of them went inside their warehouse, but two more guarded the jeep and street outside. "Goddammit. How did we get stuck out here?" one said. "Lost a bet. Remember?" the other replied. "Oh yeah. I bet so goddam much that we were gonna get that bitch at the gala." "Ah, just shuddup. I don't want to listen to your whining." "You shut up! I'll-" The two men continued to argue, and in the commotion, Erikson and Morgan crept through the duct and across the street to the next warehouse. --------------------------------------- "T minus one minute! Fick yeah, Marines, let's do this shit!" Staff Sergeant Synair shouted, climbing into the passenger bay of a Blackhawk. "Hear, hear! Let's kick soem Katanese ass!" Lee said. "No offense Tiduos, Raoul." "Untaken, sarge." Thirty seconds later, the choppers' hoverjets roared to life, lifting the heavy machines a few inches above the ground. "FIRST PLATOON, MOUNT UP!" Ares bellowed, climbing into a Blackhawk himself. "All units, this is Uniform Six!" Brigadier Wolfe's voice shouted over the comm. "Code Foxtrot. Repeat, Code Foxtrot! Do what Marines do best!" |
![]() CCRPG Marines Currently: Compilation IV: Finest Hour | |
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| Wraith | 24 Nov 2008, 09:09 PM Post #19 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XVII 94th FIST Command Center, South Belligerant, Euradis "So, Herr von Graff, the KRF has assassins in their current employ?" Red asked. "Yes, Herr Lieutenant. We have several intelligence photographs and dossiers, if you need to see them," replied Gustav von Graff, Euradis Undersecretary of Internal Security. "I'll take them. I have someone who might be able to identify one he killed. I need the photographs of any KRF officials with professional training." "I'll get them to you, Herr Lieutenant." -------------------------------------------- Somewhere in North Belligerant Erikson peered through the grate into the barely lit room. No noises, no shadows. He kicked open the grate and jumped out, scanning the room with his rifle. "Come on out, ma'am," he whispered. He moved over to the top of the stairwell and knelt next to the wall. "Forward area clear. Let's go." He rushed down the stairs and hit the wall next to the corner. Morgan quietly followed him down. "Open door to the front. I'll check it out," he whispered. He left the cover of the wall and started creeping forward, head low. Thunder cracked and the sky flashed as lightning streaked across the sky. It was pouring harder than ever outside. Erikson moved up to the door and checked both ends of the street. He held up his hand as Morgan approached. "Stationary jeep down the road to the right, 'bout five hundred meters. We have to move quickly into that wwarehouse there. I'll go in first and clear it," he said. He dashed across the street and quietly opened the door. It needed a LOT of oil. The warehouse was also pitch-black. Erikson turned back and gestured for Morgan to move across. She sprinted across as fast as she could. Down the road, one of the guards noticed the shadow dart across the street. "Hey Rob, did you see that?" "See what?" "Something just moved over there." "Let's hang back. We'll call it in to the squad and they'll check it out." "Aw man, Rob. You won't take a chance at getting out of this damn rain?" "I won't take a chance of getting out of this damn life." ------------------------------------------- Over Central Belligerant "Fuck yeah, Marines! This is what I call an assault!" Lance Corporal "Hound" Cole whooped. "Five minutes out from the objective! Get ready!" came the pilot's voice over the intercom. Suddenly, a smoke trail swooped up from the ground, barely missing the chopper. "Shit! We got handheld SAMs on the ground! Whiskey Wing, heads up!" "Roger that!" "Roger that!" More smoke trails criss-crossed the sky. Deadhead looked out and saw one the choppers of Second Platoon take a hit and go down, exploding once it hit the pavement. "Shit! Bird down, bird down!" the pilot yelled. "Roger that, Whiskey One-Six, we saw it. Golf Niner is en route for extraction with the SAR." "One minute out, Marines! Prepare for assault!" The Blackhawk flared for a moment and then edged to a stop, directly above one of the target buildings. "Shit, Captain, do ya think it's wise to hover over a building like this?" the co-pilot asked. "Just shut up and do your job, Ensign," the pilot rebuked. "Ropes, ropes, ropes!" Ares ordered. The eleven members of the platoon's assault teams clipped on the flexsteel rappel ropes and dropped off the sides of the Blackhawk. They rapidly, but steadily, descended onto the roof of the target building. "This is Two Charlie," said Sergeant Allen over the comm, the senior assault team leader. "Roof is clear!" A shrill beeping noise filled the passenger bay. "Hang on, Marines! Going evasive!" the pilot yelled. The Blackhawk jerked to one side, and an unguided surface-to-air missile streaked past, missing by inches. "You better get yer asses moving, Marines!" The next twelve men went, quickly descending to the roof, covered by the assault teams. Then the final men went, accompanied by Ares. When he hit the ground, Ares immediately punched the buckle on his chest, freeing himself from the harness immediately. He dashed for cover, pulling out his rifle. "This is Delta One-Six. We're all clear, Whiskey One-Six. Over." "Roger that, Delta. We're outta here." The Blackhawk roared off, back to the south. "Okay! Assault teams, assault the building, top-down! Fire teams, follow them in! Let's move, people!" |
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| Wraith | 25 Nov 2008, 08:47 PM Post #20 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XVII Marine Aid Station, South Belligerant, Euradis "How're you doin', Wraith?" Cow asked gleefully. "Juss fien, acshly. Can't feel a thin'," Wraith replied. "How 'bout some whiskey? Or a beer?" "No, you focken idit! I don drenk!" "Yeah, and I don't either. I'll be right-" "First Sergeant, please do not disturb the Gunnery Sergeant," Red said coldly, just now entering the room. "Okay, Red!" Cow said, standing off to the side now. "Ay, Red! 'Ow ya doon?" "Better than you, Wraith!" Red said, grinning. "I've got a few questions about that man you fought yesterday." "I tol Awes - I dunna who twas!" "I've got a few moviephotoes with me - every hitman or assassin employed by the KRF," Red said, pulling out a stack of them. "Okay, shood." Red startedflashing the photoes to Wraith every few seconds. The answer was always the same. "Nao. Nao. Nao. Nao. Nao. Nao. Nao - dis isn't gon anwhere. Deez aren't da guys." "Okay, okay. We only got one more," Red showed him the last one. Wraith squinted and studied it carefully. "Ya, dass da guy." Red looked at the photo and raised his eyebrows. "You sure, Wraith?" "Ya, dass defn'ly him." "I'll take your word for it. Cow, let's go," he said, and they left the room. Outside, Cow spoke up. "So, who's the poor bastard who's been turned into paint?" Red showed the picture. Cow's eyes went wide. "Holy shit! That's-" "Francois de Holle." --------------------------------------------- Somewhere in North Belligerant "Let's keep moving. As far as I can remember, the Brigadier set up a temporary command center in the southern part of the city," Erikson whispered. Several explosions started sounding, far off in the distance. "Yes! They've started the attack! That makes this a lot easier." "How far away do you think they are, Marine?" Erikson listened carefully for a few seconds. "A mile, maybe more. But no less than a mile. C'mon, ma'am, we've got to keep-" Suddenly, several voices floated in from the street outside. "Shit! Move, move, move! Other side!" Erikson and Morgan rushed over to the ancient conveyer belt lines on the far side of the warehouses, hiding in between them. About a dozen men entered the warehouse a moment later. "Okay, the sentries say they saw something come in here. Search the room. Jacques, Francis, with me. Jean, Michel, right side. Alistair, Henri, upstairs. Charles, left side. Move out!" The men activated the high-beam flashlights on their weapons and began to sweep the room. One man headed towards the conveyer belts. "Stay absolutely silent, ma'am. I'll deal with this," Erikson whispered, barely audible. Erikson drew his knife and sidearm, as the soldier turned a corner and carefully scanned the first lane between belts. Erikson swiftly, but silently, moved around the corners behind him. Erikson advanced, keeping his pistol trained on the man's back. When the man reached the end of the lane, he stopped to sweep the area in front of him with his light. Erikson siezed the opportunity and grabbed the man's head, hand over his mouth. He dug the knife into his neck, then slashed forward, cutting the windpipe. He carefully eased the body to the floor. A silent, if messy, kill. "Clear upstairs, squad leader!" "Clear right!" "Okay, squad, regroup!" The lights all moved quickly towards the center of the warehouse. "Shit, shit, shit!" Erikson whispered to himself. "Where's Charles?" "I dunno. He went over to check the conveyers over there." "Michel, Louis, Francis, go check it out." "Yes, sir." Three lights broke off from the group and started heading over. Erikson quickly ducked into the shadows beneath the nearby stairwell. "Split up. Louis, that way. Francis, over there. I'll take right here." "Yes, sir." One of the lights started approaching him. Erikson slunk deeper into the shadows. The man turned the corner and started to move forward carefully, watching everywhere his light moved. The body was in the next lane, so Erikson had to move fast. The man's light fell upon the body. "O-" Erikson grabbed the man, hand over the mouth once again, and slashed his throat the same way. He dropped the body as silently as possible. "Clear here." "Clear here, too!" "Regroup! Where's Louis?" "Over there, last I heard him." "Oh, shit. Squad leader, there's something in here. Louis's gone!" "Everyone split into buddy teams and scan the warehouse. Scan the warehouse completely. Stay together!" "Shit," Erikson muttered. |
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| Wraith | 26 Nov 2008, 05:42 PM Post #21 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XVIII North Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo "Breaching!" Jason shouted, kicking in the door. His team dashed inside, down the short flight of stairs to the top floor. Sergeants Allen and Bradley's assault teams followed in quickly behind. "Two!" Corporal Tiduos shouted, raising his submachine gun and firing at two startled men. They dropped in seconds. "Jason, down the next! Bradley, follow him! My team, on me!" Sergent Allen ordered. The teams split up to head toward their separate objectives. "Top floor, clear! Come on down!" Allen shouted a few minutes later. The rest of the platoon filed in, most of them quickly moving down the larger flight of stairs ahead to the next floors. "This is One-Six. Squads, cover floors, three, two, one. Go!" Ares said over the comm. "Roger that." "Fourth floor, clear!" came Sergeant Garnett's voice on the comm. "Roger that, Three Charlie. Charlie teams, rejoin your squads." "Roger that." ---------------------------------------------- Sergeant McKnight's fire team was the point team for Third Squad's assault on the third floor. Deadhead and Izzy lined up on opposite sides of the door, preparing to breach. "Izzy, charge on! Deadhead, Selucis, clear," McKnight muttered. His team members nodded. Izzy clamped the breaching charge to the door, below the handle. It exploded a moment later, spewing dust and smoke into the air. "Breaching, breaching!" Deadhead and Selucis turned into the room. A few shots were heard as they cut down a pair of dazed defenders. "Clear!" "Teams, split up and clear the floor!," Ben ordered. "Second fire team, on me!" "Roger that," McKnight waved his hand, signaling for Izzy, Deadhead, and Selucis to follow. They moved into a hallway and crept along the wall to the next door. "Izzy, breach and clear." "On it!" Izzy moved around and kicked in the door, raising his rifle immediately after. The room was empty. "Room clear!" "Team, move on to the next," Ben and the team moved along the wall towards the next door. Suddenly, it burst open, and a man with a rifle came out. He was instantly cut down by Ben before he could even turn. Ben held up a hand, signaling for the team to halt. Another man came dashing out, practically oblivious to what had just happened to his partner. McKnight and Ben cut him down the same way. "Deadhead, Selucis, check the room," McKnight whispered. They moved up to the door and turned in, sweeping it wall to wall with their rifles. The room was empty now. "Clear!" "Move, next door!" --------------------------------------------- Sergeant Irick and his team kicked in the door to an office, filled with cubicles. Two startled sentries noticed and raised their rifles, firing blindly. Irick and his team immediately ducked behind cover. "Split into buddy teams! Ape, McAllen, move left! Dean, you're with me!" Irick edged towards the corner of the room. Several other soldiers in the room had joined in on the fire, bullets spraying overhead, tearing at the walls and machinery. Irick turned and aimed his rifle around the corner. he fired a trio of shots into a man firing at their former position up ahead. "Move up," he whispered. Dead crept ahead a few cubicles and emtied half a clip into the two original sentries. Irick leapfrogged to the next corner of cubicles. On the other side, Ape and McAllen cut down two more in the lane. One the far side of the room, four more enemies poured into the room. There were now six tangoes left to eliminate. "Team, regroup," Irick moved to the center of the lane, Dead following. Ape did the same. "Ape, with me. Dean, McAllen, lay down some suppressing fire on my mark," Irick took out a grenade and tugged out the pin. "Frag out," he whispered, lobbing it across the cubicles. The firing suddenly stopped, followed by frantic shouts. Irick and Ape dashed, in a crouch, along the line of cubicles to another corner. Dean and McAllen stood up to suppress the tangoes who had dived for cover. The grenade exploded, and a cry was heard. One tango down. Ape and Irick cut down two more in the next lane. "Dean, McAllen! Shift fire left!" he shouted. Their bullets were showering them with flakes of drywall. Sure is an old-fashioned planet, Irick thought. Irick ducked into one of the cubicles, motioning for Ape to continue. He pulled out another grenade. "Frag out!" he shouted this time. The three tangoes immediately dove for cover in panic. The grenade exploded, doing no harm. But Ape came up around the corner and emptied the rest of his clip into them. "Team, regroup! Move on!" ---------------------------------------------- On the first floor, Lundy and Sanol's teams got into a firefight in the main lobby of the office building. "Isis, move left by that planter! Everyone, suppressing fire!" Sanol barked. The six other men stood up and poured fire across the hospitality desk towards the enemies in the security office across the room. Isis crouched and dashed for the cover of the nearby planter. "Isis, suppress 'em! Lundy, move!" Isis rose up and started firing into the office steadily. Lundy waved his hand and dashed forward to the wall. Crashing against it and sliding to the floor just below the window, Lundy wordlessly made a jerking motion, pulling his two fists away from each other. Carr and Aster each pulled out a grenade. "Second team, cease fire!" Sanol ordered. Lundy, Carr, and Aster pulled out the pins and tossed them through the broken window into the room. They exploded a second later, despite the frantic scrambling of the three unfortunate enemy soldiers. Aster jumped up and swept the room through his sights. "Clear," he grunted. "Whew," Lundy and Carr panted. "Teams, regroup. Let's report in," Sanol said, waving his hand. ---------------------------------------------------- "Third floor, clear!" Ben shouted. "Second floor, clear!" Lee replied. "First floor, clear," Alex muttered. The reports came in one after another, smoothly and calmly. "Roger that. Platoon, regroup in the lobby," Ares ordered. He smirked, completely satisfied with himself, and his men. |
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| Wraith | 30 Nov 2008, 05:14 PM Post #22 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XIX Somewhere in North Belligerant Erikson skittered over to where Morgan was hiding, behind the last conveyer belt, he pulled her over by the arm and forced her under the stairwell. She saw the bodies, throats slit, blood pooling on the floor, and almost vomited, gagging. "Shhh! Shhhh! You need to stay here," Erikson whispered. He shoved his sidearm into her hand. "Only use this if someone sees you. Just point and shoot. No recoil, so just point and shoot. I'll be back." Erikson dashed over behind the second conveyer belt, in a crouch. Two men with flashlights on approached. Erikson unslung his rifle and edged it around the machinery, taking aim. He got off four quick shots at the lights, and both clattered to the floor. Because it was not gas-powered, the rifle had no muzzle flash. The soliders would have to find him by sound only. "Oh, shit!" came a shout. All of the lights in the warehouse started to move over towards him. Erikson dashed around the corner, towards a group of pillars under the offices on the second floor. "THERE'S SOMETHING!" A loud, long burst of automatic fire chipped the wall behind him. The idiots were obviously not trained enough in marksmanship o lead their targets, and to fire on semi-automatic. Erikson pressed himself against a pillar and snapped off two more shots, dropping one light. He quickly moved to the next pillar, just before another long burst of fire sprayed around the pillar he had shot from. He shot off the rest of his clip into the clump of lights. Several fell to the floor. Now half opened up on him, while several of the lights began moving around to his right. Apparantly, the squad leader was taking charge. Erikson kept to the wall of the room, dashing around to the far side, next to another rusty stairwell. He took cover in the shadows, took aim, and dropped on of the shooters with two shots to the back. "BEHIND!" yelled one, firing his entire clip randomly into the walls. "THERE'S MORE?" The other shooters turned and started to spray the walls as well. "Cease fire, dammit! We'll move around a search! Buddy teams, keep back-to-back!" Four pairs of heavy boots thudded across the room and started to comb the alcove. Erikson was well-concealed in the shadows below the stairwell. One of the buddy teams strayed close to his position. Erikson drew his knife, then lunged forward, stabbing the man in the abdomen. The man cried out, causing his partner to turn and fire. Using the dying man's body as a shield, Erikson depressed the man's finger, ripping the other man apart with a burst of fire. He finished the second man off by snapping his neck, then dashed off back towards the other side. "HOLY SHIT! FIRE! FIRE!" Their aim was far off, but they had a general idea where he was and was headed. Erikson fired off half his clip into the four shooters, who simply, stupidly, stood in the middle of the room, lights still beaming. Three dropped. "HOLY SHIT!" the last man yelled. He ran back to the conveyer belts and took cover. The other buddy team started moving across the room, very carefully scanning the entire room with their lights. Suddenly, at least ten shots echoed from the direction of the conveyer belts. Oh, shit, Erikson thought. As the last two men turned to face the noise, Erikson dropped them with the rest of his clip. When he was completely sure that all the men were dead, he dashed across the room to where he had placed Morgan. ------------------------------------------------------ Marine Aid Station, South Belligerant "Well, they've already put on that de Holle is still alive. Hell, de Holle himself even made a speech! Are you sure Wraith is right?" Captain Ryan asked Red. "I trust his word over that of a group of terrorists. Let's let Herr von Graff take a look at it, then show it to Calahan." "Alright," Ryan opened the door to the observation room, and called for von Graff to come in. "Mr. Undersecretary, you did see the Misters Cartier's and de Holle's address earlier, did you not?" "I did, Herr Captain." "Was that indeed Francois de Holle?" Von Graff thought for a moment. "What are you implying, Herr Captain?" "The severely wounded man we mentioned earlier claims that Francois de Holle was the man he fought and killed last night." Von Graff's eyes widened. He smiled. "But, de Holle made an address to the government in that press release. Are you sure your-wait." Von Graff paused in thought again. "Now that you mention it, the de Holle in the telecast seemed...different, than normal." "How different?" asked Red. "As far as I remember, Herr de Holle was, more heavily built, especially in the shoulders. We can compare images, to confirm, Herr Captain." "Do it, Mister Undersecretary. I'll see you soon, then." "Ja, Herr Captain," Von Graff said, leaving the room. Ryan turned back to Red. "Now, why would Cartier lie about de Holle being dead?" "I don't know. Maybe..." Red bit his lip, thinking. "Maybe, maybe he was just a figurehead. De Holle had professional training as an assassin. Maybe he was just there to look the part, defend himself, but not play the part." "Maybe. What about Cartier?" "Cartier strikes me as a very intelligent, crafty man. A born politician. I think he was the brains, but why wouldn't he want to be the top dog, then?" Both men paused in thought for a few minutes. "I know," Ryan said, breaking the silence. "Because then he would be Public Enemy Number One, not de Holle. Besides, why be the primary target, the boss in name, when you can be a secondary target, and boss in practice instead?" "That...sounds reasonable. Let's talk to con Graff about it." "This means we'll need to only knock out Cartier. Without him, I bet the KRF will either wither away, or simply implode upon itself." "Game, set, and match." |
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| Wraith | 1 Dec 2008, 10:15 PM Post #23 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XX North Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo Night was falling on the second day, but the fighting was not. Northern Belligerant illuminated the night sky with dozens of fires, explosions, and lights. The Confederation troops were making significant progress, but the enemy remained stubborn to the last. "Okay, we have a second set of target buildings to the north! There's a rumor we may have a fix on some Tier One Personnel there, so let's go!" Ares shouted over the comm. "Up and at 'em, Marines!" "On your feet! Move!" The platoon moved out in three-line formation, by squads, up the road. It was strewn with rubble and wrecks, mostly of enemy armor and civilian vehicles. Sergeant Irick's team had point. Ape's eyes flicked every which way, watching the ruined and intact buildings lining the road. He flattened himself against a wrecked enemy tank and edged forward, peering around the corner. He squinted at the roofless, crumbling building overlooking the area. There was nothing but a body slumped over a windowsill, next to a machine gun. Ape waved his hand, palm out, next to his neck - the signal for 'All Clear.' They moved forward again. Sergeant Roland's team followed. As they passed a burnt-out automobile, the machine opened fire! "Take cover!" Roland bellowed, ducking down behind the car. His team dove and hugged the ground, bullets zipping over. But PFC Baylor was not so lucky, not fast enough. He took three bullets to the chest and went down hard. "SHIT!" Roland shouted. "Direct some goddamn fire on that building!" Lee ordered. Ben's Third Squad immediately poured fire into the building, but then a second machine gun, in a different window, opened up on them, forcing them to duck their heads down. "Damn it! Alex, can you move forward, damn it!?" Lee asked. "Not under this fire!" "Shit! Teams, fire and manuever! Get out of the-" At that moment, a flight of Confederation hovercopters, escorted by gunships, roared over. One of them flattened the building for good with a salvo of Hellspawn missiles. "This is Whiskey Six-Two. I think we got 'em. Ov-." Suddenly, a smoke trail streaked across the sky, a missile striking the underside of the passing gunship and knocking out one of its primary hoverjets. It immediately spun out of control, a high-pitched, dreaded whine screeching as its remaining hoverjet strained itself beyond its capacity. The gunship crashed through a bridge across the way and buried itself in the mud of a large drainage ditch. "Shit," Mike Irick muttered softly, staring at the burning wreck open-mouthed. The entire platoon had the same opinion. "Where the fuck are they getting all these weapons?" Lee asked. "Who knows, and who gives a fuck? Let's just get this done, kids," Ben replied curtly. "Ben's right. We'll worry about that kind of shit later. Let's keep moving!" Ares ordered. -------------------------------------------------- Red watched Calahan carefully, arms folded, through the observation window. Cow stood behind him. "Geez, Red, what's so important about Wraith? Sure, he's one of the best Marines in the Corps, but that doesn't deserve specific attention! Come on, what the fuck is going on?" "Gunnery Sergeant Calahan is a key...'witness' in an ongoing investigation." "Now I'm really confused." "You always are, Cow. That's why you drink so much alcohol - to solve all of life's mysteries," Red replied sarcastically. "Oh yeah. I'll...be...right, um, back," Cow scurried out of the room. Captain Ryan and Herr von Graff entered at the same time. "How's he doing, Red?" Ryan asked. "According to the FIST surgeon, his external wounds are starting to regenerate, except for that big scar across the left side of his face. They say he'll have it for life," Red said, pointing to the deep scar made by de Holle's initial knife strike. "His internal injuries are another story, but they are gradually healing. He said he should be able to complete normal human activities within two days, but will not yet be fit for combat duty." "Good. Herr von Graff, tell the Lieutenant what you just told me." "Yes, Herr Captain. The Department...agrees with your analysis. It fits a theory we had been attempting to prove for several months. The KRF is wracked by infighting - they can't decide who is the strongest military leader. It is our belief that de Holle served as the face and muscle of the KRF, while Cartier was the brains, and real power, behind it." "So, Jacques Cartier is now Public Enemy Number One," Ryan finished. "Does the Brigadier know this?" "Not the full analysis. I'm going to deliver a full report to him now." |
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| Wraith | 3 Dec 2008, 07:27 PM Post #24 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXI Somewhere in Northern Belligerant Erikson dashed over to where he had hid Morgan. She was shaking, crouched over a body, the pistol in her hand. "Christ," Erikson muttered under his breath. "You all right, ma'am? Here, let me take that. It's over, ma'am. We're safe for now." Erikson slowly took the pistol out of her trembling hand. "I-I've never k-killed a man before," she murmured. "You did what you had to. Don't worry, I'm still here," he said. He sighed and slumped down against the wall next to her. "I, I don't even know why I was picked for this job. I've only been in this unit, hell, the entire Marine Corps, for a month. I'm the last person who should have been doing this. Someone else could've done betterm" he slammed his fist into the ground. Morgan stopped trembling and turned to him. "Well, Private, I think you're doing a good job," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "We're both still here, aren't we?" She smiled. "But, I - someone else could - errr..." Erikson's voice trailed off. He shook his head, grimaced, and regained his composure. "We can't stay here for long. C'mon, let's go." ---------------------------------- Northern Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo Corporal Golstein zipped up the body bag containing PFC Baylor's body. "That's it, sir." "God damn it!" Lee cursed, throwing himself against a wall. He shouted in rage and punched the wall several times. "He didn't have a chance, Lee. It's not your fault. Give me his tags," Ares said, holding out a hand. Lee punched the wall one more time, then turned around and thrust Baylor's dog tags into the hand. "Say what you want," he snapped. "It is my fault." He walked off. Ares shook his head. "If I may say so, sir..." Goldstein asked. "Go ahead." "I've been with this FIST since before Fourth Maxfrica, and Lee even before Third Maxfrica. I think the pressure's finally getting to him, though. I'm not much of a shrink - never finished the degree - but him, and all the squad leaders, are always under a lot of stress." Ares cocked an eyebrow. "You were going for a degree in Psych?" Goldstein nodded. "Well, you're right about squad leaders - they take the deaths of their men real hard. I should know. I'll talk to Lee, later, Corporal." "Yes, sir," Goldtein started to walk away. "Hang on," Ares said, blocking him with an arm. "I wanna know what you think of Gunny Calahan went we get back home," he said, smirking. "Errr...okay sir." "Good. Move along," Ares switched on the comm. "Delta One, this is One-Six. Move out." ------------------------------------ "Delta One-Six, this is Victor Two," said someone on the comm. That was Captain Abrams, the FIST S-2, or intelligence officer. "This is Delta One-Six, over." "Be advised, One-Six, that you are approaching the area of effect for a concealed mortar position. Please eliminate the position en route to primary objective. Designate Objective Mike, over." "Roger that, Victor Two. Delta One-Six, out." The moment Ares flicked off the comm, there was a horrible screeching noise from the air. "INCOMING!" someone shouted. Ares dove through a window into an abandoned, rotting store. Something exploded not ten feet from the ground, and a handful of small explosive charges carpeted the middle of the street. "Shit, that's a heavy mortar!" someone shouted on the comm. "Delta One, this is One-Six. That is Objective Mike. We are to-" Another screeching noise. The bomblets dropped again, this time farther up the road. "We are to neutralize Objective Mike en route to Objective Bravo. Squad leaders, acknowledge, over." "Roger that." "Delta One-One, move through the buildings on the left. Blow through 'em if you have to. Delta One-Two, do the same on the right side of the street. Delta One-Three, hold position for now. Over." "Roger that." ---------------------------------- "Point!" Lundy shouted. Lace Corporal Aster O'Deth kicked in the door in front of them. "Clare!" he shouted, running, crouched low to the next window. "Tangoes, in the rod!" he warned. Aster rose up and pumped a few shots into the three men, who were crouched in the storefront opposite. "First, up and at 'em! We'll pin 'em down so the others can move through!" Lundy and Corporal Carr slid into position next to Aster and joined him in suppressing the enemies. "This is One-Two. We'll flank 'em. One-One, lift fire, over." "This is Alpha, lifting fire!" Lundy, Carr, and Aster stopped firing and took cover. Across the street, there was a large explosion, as the wall of the store shattered from the explosion. There were a few cracks, and then they saw Sergeant irick's team move into the store. Irick moved over to the window and waved. "All clear over here. Move up, over." "Roger that." Ahead, Sergeant Bradley's team took over point. Lance Corporal Shert set a charge on the wall and ducked away. "Charge set...clear!" BOOM! "In, in, in!" Bradley shouted, running in low through the smoke. "Tangoes!" Bradley sprayed two standing, stunned, enemies with his submachine gun, dropping them. "Room clear!" Sergeant Sanol's team entered and moved up to a window at the corner of the room. Alex followed them. "One-Six, this is One-One. We've cleared our side of this stretch. We've taken up an overwatch position at the corner store, over." Lundy's team came in. Alex motioned for them to mvoe upstairs to the second floor. "Roger that, One-One. Just waiting for-" "This is One-Two. Our side is clear." "Roger that. Any sign of the mortar?" "Negative, One-Six. I think - wait." There were cracks from the other side of the road. "We've got incoming tangoes. A lot of incoming tangoes. Light armored vehicles with them, over." "Roger that. One-One, what is your-" Alex looked out the window and was met by by a burst of fire from a heavy gun. "Um, similar, One-Six." "Okay. Delta One, beat off this counterattack and search for the mortar." |
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| Wraith | 7 Dec 2008, 01:16 PM Post #25 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXII Northern Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo Aster took aim at the approaching column of men and fired several shots into them. The pointmen fell dead and the others scrambled for cover. Lundy pulled out his long-ranger and started picking them off. "Two armored jeeps, coming up the road!" Carr warned. "Did you hear that, Alex?" Lundy shouted downstairs. "Yeah! Brad, Dutch, tear 'em up!" Alex ordered. Bradley and Sanol's teams immediately concetrated fire on the lead jeep, ripping through its unarmored windows and killing the crew. The other jeep promptly crashed into the lead jeep as it suddenly stopped. "Mine!" Aster shouted. He carefully sighted the roof gunner of the jeep and killed him with a single shot. He then flung a grenade towards the jeep, the spike striking it on the hood. It exploded a moment later, the explosion and shrapnel cutting into the engine compartment and blowing the jeep almost in half. "Dutch, Brad, move out into the street and finish this! Lu ndy, cover 'em!" "Roger that." Sanol hurdled over the windowsill, his team following, and began to systematically clear the road, one piece of cover at a time. "Road is clear." ------------------------------------------------------ "IFV, right!" Sergeant Roland whispered. "Allen, take it out," Lee ordered quietly. PFC LeGrand unslung his LAW and took aim. Suddenly, a torrent of fire erupted from across the street. Alex's squad had opened the fight. The IFV suddenly sped up, its medium autocannon searching for targets. PFOOM! The LAW rocket sped toward its target, ripping through the medium frontal armor and exploding just inside. Shrapnel from the exploding vehicle cut down many of the advancing infantry. "Mike, get 'em!" Sergeant Irick's team opened up with their rifles, cutting down the remaining, dazed infantrymen. "Road is clear!" --------------------------------------------------- "One-Three, move up the-" Suddenly, the mortar screeched again, dropping the series of bomblets onto the road once more. "Scratch that. One-Three, move up the right side of the roads, in the buildings, like One-Two did," Ares ordered. "Roger that," Ben replied. "One, Two, get across the street and search for that damn mortar in that apartment block!" "Roger that." First and Second Squads quickly dashed across the main street and breached the apartment buildings on the other side, skillfully keeping low to avoid shrapnel from the mortars. "We're in, One-Six. Searching for Objective Mike. Out," Lee said. ------------------------------------------------ Somewhere in Northern Belligerant "Sounds like we're getting closer," Erikson said. The thunder of the guns and rattle of gunfire was getting louder and louder. "I need to get to some kind of high point to take a look." Erikson scanned the horizon. "Looks like we're on top of a hill here. Maybe there's an overlook nearby. C'mon," Erikson beckoned for Morgan to follow. They passed through some kind of junkyard. Erikson motioned for her to wait and climbed to the top of a large pile. He whistled in awe. "Helluva fire's burning out there. I see a good spot for a better view. I was right, there's some kind of overlook that gives an awesome view of the main city." Suddenly, some of the metal on the pile sparked and clanged. Several innacurately fired bullets ricocheted off. "Crap," Erikson muttered, clambering down the opposite side. "We got a small patrol on the other side of this here pile. You stay here, ma'am. I'll go take 'em out." Morgan nodded. Erikson picked up his rifle and dashed around out of sight. ------------------------------------------- There were several cracks, both familiar, but both different, around the pile. He must be having a hard time with them. Maybe I should help him. No, no, no, he said to wait here. Besides, what can I do? I'm not a trained soldier like him. I'm...not a killer. Morgan thought. She just sat down on a discarded tire and waited, somewhat bored. She started to doze off. "HEY!" Morgan jerked awake and looked around. "You! No loitering! I don't care if you're homeless, get outta here! This is Katanese government property! There's a war on you know!" came the voice, obviously irritated. She looked around again and saw a three-man patrol coming towards her. She froze in fear, just watching them. "What did I say!? Get outta here!" The apparant leader got closer, and noticed she was a woman. "Hey, lookie here, fellas. Looks like this job has some perks after all," he said, grinning. As the meaning of those words hit her, she got up and started to run. "Don't you dare move, little lady!" he shouted, aiming his rifle. She froze. They started running towards her. Two of the men took her arms and pinning her to a wall. The third man started moving towards her, storing away his rifle. "I-I am the Confederation ambassador to this world! Un- Let me go!" she said, struggling to no avail. "Oh? Well, the bosses won't mind what we do as long as we we bring you in then, will they?" She started to feel fear, worse feel than she had ever felt in her life. She lunged forward, but the two men pinned her back against the wall. The leader started to unzip his pants. BANG! The man jerked forward and landed facedown in the dirt. His blood spattered all over her face. She noticed the grip on her left arm had loosened. She looked, and where the second man had been, there was only a bloodstain on the wall. The last man yelped in fear and released her, scrambling away as fast as he could. "OH NO YOU DON'T! GET BACK HERE, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Erikson howled in rage, dashing after him. He stopped and fired a shot. The man yelped again and fell to the ground, clutching his calf. Erikson ran over to him. THWAP! THWAP! THWAP! THUNK! Morgan took her hands away from her eyes and looked over to where Erikson had the man. THWAP! THUNK! Erikson delivered two more punches to the man's face, then dropped him and shot him near the waist. "AGGGGH!" the man screamed, clutching his groin. "How do you like it? Huh, you son of a bitch?" Erikson fired again, this time in te head. The man stopped screaming and went limp. Erikson staggered over to Morgan and slumped against the wall, sliding to the ground. He had a look of fear, disbelief, on his own face. He stared at his hands. "Are- are you okay, ma'am?" he managed to stutter. Morgan simply nodded. "Thank God. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I'll never leave you alone again. I promise!" he said, slamming his fist into the ground. "I- I'm turning into him. I just, lost control. Why did I do that to that man!? I'm not HIM!" Erikson buried his face in his hands. "Wh-wh-who? Who are you not?" "N-no one of concern. You d-don't need to worry about it. I-I do," he said, once again regaining his composure. "Oh please, please forgive me! I'm so sorry!" "Don't worry, Lewis. I-I'm alright. It's in the past. Don't worry. It wasn't your fault," she said. Erikson inhaled deeply a few times, then got to his feet. "I just hope this will be all over soon. I can't do this much longer," he said softly. Morgan got to her feet. "Is the pressure to much for you? I figured Marines trained for this," she said, smiling. "Well, not for this kind of job. But yes, the pressures getting to me. And," Erikson cocked his rifle again. "I'm running out of ammo." He grinned. |
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| Wraith | 9 Dec 2008, 10:18 PM Post #26 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXIII Northern Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo "I gowt point," Aster grunted. "Roger," said Alex. He motioned forward with his hand. Aster kicked open the door and cleared the room, swinging his rifle around. Lundy and Carr following, he burst through the next door. PFUNG! Aster slammed himself against a side wall, followed quickly by his comrades. He looked over at Alex and pointed towards the next door. Alex merely nodded. Aster drew a pair of light submachine guns - one-handed, low-caliber automatic weapons - and kicked through the door. Four sentries practically fell out of the chairs they had been sitting in, playing cards. Aster cut them all down with one long burst. Lundy and Carr rushed past him and busted down the next door, leading into a stairwell. "Go," Alex muttered, sending Lundy's team up. There were two doors on opposite sides of the next floor. Aster kicked in one of them, which led out to a small worker's balcony. PFUNG! A noticable, but small, shell screamed into the air. Aster looked down and saw three men kneeling around something on the ground. "Loondy, there's the moata!" he said. "Mine," he said, pulling out the long-ranger. "One sec," he muttered, licking his lips. His finger tightened on the- PFUNG! "Jesus Christ! I hate that damn sound," Lundy cursed, temporarily losing his aim. He quickly regained control and sighted the scope on the men once again. "Bang, you're dead." BANG! BANG! The last man started running. "Not that easy, kid," he said. BANG! The man abruptly stopped running, or moving altogether. Lundy lowered the long-ranger. "Like a deer hunt back home," he chuckled. "Alex, Lundy here," he said on the short-range comm. "The mortar's outta the picture. Let Ares know he's clear to move." "Roger that." ------------------------------------------------------- "Delta One-Six, this is One-One. Objective Mike is destroyed, over." "Roger that, One-One. That was fast. Moving up, out." "One-Six, this is One-Two! We musta walked into the goddamn hornet's nest, over!" "Calm down, Two. StiRep, over." "This building must be a barracks or something! We're facing about three-zero tangoes, probably more, over!" "Roger that, Two. One-Three and myself are moving up to support you. Out." "Roger that." ------------------------------------------------------------- Ape quickly turned the corner and pushed over the small, metal table for cover. Immediately after, three bullets clanged into the table, leaving deep dents. "Shit! Cover me, you assholes!" Ape shouted. "On it!" Mike said, aiming around the corner and firing. Someone at the next door cried and a body thudded to the floor. "Dean, Ape, go!" Mike ordered, turning the corner and firing again. Ape and Dean dashed across the hallway and into another empty apartment. "Art, we'll pin 'em down! Flank 'em!" Mike shouted. He and McAllen turned and fired the rest of their clips down the hallway. Roland and his team dashed across and into another room. "Fire escape! Moving up!" Roland shouted. He and his two men dashed up the rusting metal staircase to the next floor. "Mike, how many tangoes down there?" "Five, maybe. In the mess hall." "Alright. Lift fire, we're coming down right behind them." "Kick 'em in the ass for me." "Roger that," Roland waved his team forward, and they moved out into the next hallway. The Marine cracks of weapons died instantly below, and the unfamiliar, rapid cracks of enemy gunshots roared to life. Roland kicked in another door at the end of the hall, revealing another staircase. He motioned forward with his head, and he and his team started to cautiously descend. He could now distinguish the individual positions of enemy weapons, as they were right behind the door down one floor - the sounds were that close. He positioned Corporal LePallin facing the doorway, and he and Hound smashed in the door with their rifles. LePallin fired ten rapid shots, and killed all five soldiers before they even realized they had been flanked. "Mike, clear. You can move now, over." "Roger that." "Delta One-Two, this is Two Actual. Regroup on the ground floor, stat! Move, move, move!" ---------------------------------------------------- "Okay, everyone, find some cover and keep your goddamn heads down! Squad leaders, sound off role!" Ares barked. "Squad, sound off!" came three identical orders. "One okay!" "Two okay!" "Thray okay!" The role call continued until all living members of the platoon reported in. "Okay, everyone, keep your heads down!" Ares flicked on a comm channel. "Whiskey Six-Four, this is Delta One-Six! We are clear of the target area, over!" "Roger that. April Two-Two, baby!" the pilot whooped. "April Two-Two, sir?" Ben asked. "April twenty-second. He's Duranic - Remembrance Day celebration." "Ah." A gunship roared overhead and started to circle the apartment building that had been infested with enemies. It halted to a hover, then fired what seemed like dozens of Hellspawn missiles into the old ferrocrete structure. The crumbling ferrocrete broke apart like wet paper under the barrage, and the building came tumbling down. Many men in the platoon whooped in triumph. "Enjoy the fireworks, Delta? We're outta here, over," the pilot said. "Roger that! Thanks, Six-Four! Out." "Roger that, ou- Shit, Five's down. Let's mo-" the channel clicked off. "Okay, first herd, get on your feet! We've still got some target buildings to get to!" |
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| Wraith | 12 Dec 2008, 06:05 PM Post #27 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXIV Somewhere in Northern Belligerant Erikson let out a whistle of awe as he looked out from the overlook. The rest of the city lay at least a hundred feet down a sheer rock face. Belligerant's "Capital Hill" was actually a plateau. "Hell of a view. I can see the whole battle from here," Erikson said. "They're slowly makin' their way north. Ma'm, do you remember how you got up here going to the gala?" "Um...some kind of lieft. Really big, for vehicles too. I think it was the only one," Morgan replied. Erikson sighed. "Damn it," he muttered. "So that's the way to go?" "No, absolutely not. The enemy is in control of it. No doubt. No chance." "So that's it, then? End of the road? After everyone has died, we're just goin-" "No, it's not the end of the road. The road just turns in different directions," Erikson said, grinning. He looked back out over the city. Many fires, large and small, illuminated the approaching dawn. Several flights of hovercopters cruised at the plateau's altitude, searching for targets or waiting for signals. He turned back around to face Morgan."We just gotta find some place to lay low, maybe even signal those cho-" Suddenly, a high-pitched screeching noise filled the air. Erikson didn't need to see it to know exactly what it was. "Shit! Get down!" he shouted, lunging at Morgan and pulling her to the ground. A burning hovercopter, spinning chaotically due to a crippling missile strike, passed scarcely ten feet above them. Morgan covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly as the horrible whine of strained engines got louder and louder. Erikson watched its rapid descent, the hovercopter finally slamming into the side of a tall office building and crunching into the ground just below it, just out of view of the overlook. Erikson jumped to his feet. "Shit! We've got to get over there and help them! There might be survivors! Come on!" he shouted, drawing his rifle and beginning to dash towards the crash site. Morgan slowly got to her feet. "Lewis, won't that thing draw en-" "C'mon! There's no time!" he said. He stopped suddenly for a moment as the mortally damaged office building came tumbling down, stirring up a huge cloud of dust. "Jesus," Erikson cursed, coughing violently. He resumed his dash, looking behind to see Morgan catching up. --------------------------------------------------------- "Whiskey Six to Uniform Two-Six. Whiskey Six-Five just went down, over." "This is Uniform Two-Six. We see it. Check for survivors over. It went down near the edge of Capital Hill, over." "Roger that. Whiskey Six-Four, this is Whiskey Six. You finished, over?" "Roger that. April Two-Two, sir! YEAH!" "Roger that, Six-Four. Whiskey Six-Five just went down on Capital Hill. Uniform Two-Six is ac- the retrieval beacon just went active. Go check it out, over." "Roger that, ou- Shit, Five's down. Let's move in for a flyover." -------------------------------------------------------------- Erikson clambered over the just-settling pile of rubble into the small clearing caused by the crashing chopper. Two bodies lay around the chopper, with two more inside. Erikson rushed over and checked the man's pulse, for he lacked the life-sign equipment his gear would have provided. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. He yanked one of the man's dog tags off of his neck and stood up, walking over to the second body. He was dead, too. "God, DAMN it!" Erikson said, picking up a piece of debris and throwing it at the dead chopper. Morgan just now climbed over the rubble. "They're dead, aren't they?" "Yeah. All of 'em," Erikson growled. "Lewis, are you sure this was wise? Don't things like a aircraft crash attract attention?" Erikson snapped alert and his eyes bulged. "Oh, shit. What was I thinking?! We've got to get ou-" A roaring sound flew by overhead. Erikson looked up and saw another hovercopter. "Yes! A flyover! Of course! HEY! HEEEEEEEY!" Erikson started waving and jumping up and down. ----------------------------------------------------- "See anything down there?" Whiskey Six-Four's pilot asked the co-pilot. "Not sure. Wait," the co-pilot peered out the cockpit viewport. "I thought I did. Take her over for another pass." "Alright," the pilot said, banking the control stick. The hovercopter road over the crash site once again. "I see movement!" "Yea, I saw it, too. Definitely someone still alive down there. I'll call it in," the pilot flicked on the comm. "Whiskey Six, this is Six-Four. We have movement on the ground at Six-Five's crash site. Probably survivors, over." "Roger that. Whiskey Eight-One, stay on standby," Whiskey Sis replied. "Whiskey Eight" was the call sign group for of the search-and-rescue birds. "Affirmative. There are survivors on the ground. Count two. Repeat, two." "Roger that. Whiskey Six-Four, that crash is on Capital Hill. Is the Delta Zulu hot? Over." "Nega- Whoa!" A smoke trail whooshed by, missing the hovercopter by only a few feet. "RPG just missed us. No SAMs in sight or on radar. Whiskey Eight-One, you are clear for a pickup, over." "Belay that, Whiskey Eight-One. Remain on standby. That ground is way too hot. Whiskey Six-Four, come out of there." "But there are survivors!" "Two survivors are not enough to risk another several-thousand-dollar bird and many more lives. Whiskey Six-Four, come out now." Six-Four's pilot growled. "...Roger that." |
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| Wraith | 13 Dec 2008, 05:09 PM Post #28 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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OOC: This chapter's almost all radio chatter CHAPTER XXV Somewhere in Northern Belligerant "Oh, come on! Where...where the fuck are you going?! Get back here! AWWWWWWW!" Erikson slammed his fist into the downed chopper, watching as the chopper above them flew off to the south. "What...where's he going?" "I don't know. I don't fucking know," Erikson growled, leaning his head against the chopper. "They're leaving? But...didn't they see us?" Erikson stepped away from the chopper and looked at her manacingly. "Of course they saw us! I'm standing the fuck there and waving my arms like a goddamn idiot! They're leaving us, ma'am. It's standard protocol." "What?" "Standard Operating Procedure, ma'am: 'In the case that a search-and-rescue is required in hostile territory, the search-and-rescue should only take place if the target of said search-and-rescue is of sufficient numerary, psychological, or physical value.' Two survivors isn't worth risking another hovercopter." "But-" "That's it, ma'am. We revert back to Plan A: Hunker down until- What's that sound?" Erikson turned to look at the downed chopper. Some kind of noise was emanating from it. "Is someone still alive in there?" Erikson shouted. No response. "Hang on, ma'am. I'll check it out." Erikson pulled his rifle back out ducked inside the wreckage. The noise was coming from the cockpit. Erikson shoved a troop bench out of his way and crawled into the cramped cockpit, shoving the dead pilot's body out of teh seat. "But th-....viv..s...ir! We'v-...to...ack!" "Nega-...skey Six-Fo...! Retur...o your or...t." "...Rog...at." "Holy shit! This comm still works! Minister, come over here, to the cockpit window." Erikson depressed the button that opened the comm channel. "Uh...can anyone hear me? This is Private First Class Lewis Erikson, 94th FIST. Does anyone hear me? Over." "New Con-...thentica...Rom...Four," came a garbled response. "Um, this radio's barely working. Repeat, over." "Ne-...tact. Authen...te, Rome...our." "Sir, I'm afraid I can't authenticate. I've been separated from my unit since the attack on the gala, over." "Rog...at. Thin...mart, KRF guy? I'll pa...it up. Hehehe..." "No, wait! Wait, wait, wait! I-I've got the Minister of Foreign Affairs with me! We've been caught behind enemy lines since the gala!" There was a several-second pause. "Say...ain, N-...ontact...ver." "I've got Minister Morgan with me, over!" "Ve-...unny, KR...uy." "No, really! Here," Erikson turned to Morgan. "Okay, all you gotta do is talk into the comm, here. Just like a regular comm back home." "Err...okay," Morgan moved closer, leaning through the shattered window. "Errrm...this is Minister of Foreign Affairs Kathryn Morgan speaking. Private Erikson and I are trapped somwhere on Capital Hill. Errr...over?" ------------------------------------------------- "Golf Two, this is Whiskey Six. I've got a new contact talking to me who says he has the Minister of Foreign Affairs with him." "Bullshit, Whiskey Six! Patch me through!" the army division's intelligence officer responded. "Okay. Patching...in." "...talk into the comm, here. Just like a regular comm back home." "Err....okay," said a female voice in the background. "Errrrm...this is Minister of Foreign Affairs Kathryn Morgan speaking. Private Erikson and I are trapped somewhere on Capital Hill. Errr...over?" "Holy shit!" the intelligence officer swore, surprised. "You, courier!" he shouted at a passing clerk, grabbing a recording of the comm conversation out of his helmet. "Yes, sir?" "Get this to voice analysis, stat! Everyone, I think we just found Victor Six!" ---------------------------------------------------- "...w Cont...t, this i...Whi..ey Si...at is yo...curr...pos..ion? Over." "This is Erikson. We can barely hear you. We're at a crashed chopper near the edge of Capital Hill, using its radio. Another chopper just did a flyover, over." There was a pause. "New...act. Th...Gol..Two. Are y...ayin' rad...ames..er?" "What did he say?" Morgan asked. "I think he thinks we're playing radio games with them." "What's that?" "He thinks the enemy's captured us and are luring them into a trap," Erikson turned back to the radio. "Negative, Golf Two. But we will be soon if you don't get us outta here ASAP, over!" "Rog...at." ------------------------------------------------------ "Meh, I won't buy this completely until voice analysis gets me my results. Whiskey Six, this is Golf Two, over." "This is Whiskey Six, over." "Where are they saying they are? Over." "Six-Five just went down on the edge of Capital Hill. Six-Four did a flyover, but I ordered him out. Zone was too hot, over." "Roger that. Whiskey Six-Four, this is Golf Two, over." "This is Six-Four." "Six-Four, when you did your flyover, did you see any survivors on the ground?" "Affirmative, Golf Two. I saw two survivors. Repeat, two survivors. Over." The intelligence officer raised his eyebrows. "Was the crash site a suitable LZ?" "Negative, over." "Did you see a suitable Lima Zulu nearby? Over." There was a long pause. "Affirmative. Suitable Lima Zulu approximately a thousand mike to the west, over." "Roger that. New Contact, this is Golf Two. If you're legit, we have a Lima Zulu for you, approx one trip zero mike to the west of your position, over." "Roger that, Golf Two. We will see you there." |
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| Wraith | 15 Dec 2008, 06:02 PM Post #29 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXVI Marine Aid Station, South Belligerant "So how's he doing, Doc?" Red asked the FIST Chief Medical Officer. "Well, his internal bleeding has stopped, and most of the fractures, sprains, and bruising have healed. However, the knife wounds and bullet wounds won't fully regenerate for another day or two. He won't be fit for duty for a couple of days." "Well, when can he start walking again?" "We took him off the Sorephine a few hours ago, so I'd say he can start moving around on his own in a few hours. Why do you ask?" Red leaned close in to the officer. "Don't tell him that," he whispered, winking. "Can I see him?" "Of course. He'll probably be much easier to understand now that he's off the Sorephine." "Thank you," Red said, leaving the observation room to enter Calahan's room. "Hey, Red! When can I get out of here?" Calahan asked, clearly much more alert and awake. "You won't be fit for duty for another couple of days, Wraith. Sorry," Red replied, sitting down by the bed. "How are you holding up?" "Holding up? I'm lifting the goddamn stones up and over the wall! I can walk soon, right? There's a difference between being 'fit for duty' and being 'able to fight.'" "Nevertheless, you are staying here until then. No use getting yourself hurt again 'cuz of your own recklessness." "Red, I know my own limits. Believe me, if I can walk and hold a rifle, I can fight just fine." There was a long period of silence between the two men. "I don't care, Wraith. Until the Doc says you're fit for duty, you're staying here." "Fucking hell, Red." ---------------------------------------------------- Northern Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo Get your goddamn head down, you fuckin' idiot!" Sergeant McGraw snapped. Lance Corporal McAllister stopped peering over the low wall and ducked back down. Not even a second later, he was showered with small fragments and dust, then a loud crack! was heard. "See? Goddamnit, wait until Lundy's finished with him!" McGraw said icily. McAllister nodded nervously. "This is One Alpha. I see 'im. He's holed up in that goddamn apartment building, two 'o' clock. Too far for me. Over," came Lundy's voice a few minutes later. "Roger that, Alpha. I'll call someone in," Ares's voice replied. Ares switched channels. "Whiskey Six, this is Delta One-Six. We've got a sniper problem, over." "Roger that, Delta One-Six. Dispatching Whiskey Six-Eight to assist. Patching you through." "This is Whiskey Six-Eight, over," said a different voice. "This is Delta One-Niner. We've got a sniper in the apartment building to our two 'o' clock, estimate eight hundred meters distance." "Roger that. I see several apartment buildings in that area, over." "Target the one second from the far left end. Coordinates Golf Bravo Eight-One, over." "Roger that. Watch this." An instant later, the hovercopter roared overhead and loosed a salvo of missile at the center of the tall apartment building, not even pausing to hover. "This is One-Alpha. He nailed 'im, over!" "Roger that. Whiskey Six-Eight, observer reports you nailed him. Thanks for the assist, over." "Roger that, Delta. See you around. Out." The hovercopter roared back overhead before returning to high altitude for standby orbit. "Okay. Delta One, move-" In the middle of Ares's order, there was a deafening crashing noise. Ares looked ahead in alarm, just seeing the top of the apartment building disapear into a cloud of dust below. "Jesus, those pilots sure as hell know how to flatten things," he muttered. "Okay. Delta One, move out. We've still got a few blocks to the target buildings!" |
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| Wraith | 20 Dec 2008, 11:22 PM Post #30 |
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Preparing for the Second Coming
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CHAPTER XXVII Northern Belligerant, Grid Golf Bravo Jacques Cartier sat and listened to the growing rumble of the battle, creeping ever closer to his temporary safehouse in the Lower City. Damn those Marines. Damn that Minister for escaping. Damn that idiot de Holle, for getting himself killed and leaving a witness. God damn them all, Cartier thought. Wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for them. Suddenly, the door to the bunker opened, and a soldier appeared in the doorway. "Sir, we've sighted the enemy." Cartier stroked his beard for good measure and stood up. "Warm up the chopper for me, will you, Phillippe?" ------------------------------------------------------------------ "Target building in sight," Alex reported. "Excellent. Deploy by squads to clear. One, right. Two, center. Three, left. move," Ares ordered. "Roger that." --------------------------------------------------------------------- Ben dove for cover behind the wal lining the street just as the machine gun opened up. "Jason, nail it! Wolf, breach. Go!" Ben shouted across the opening in the wall. Jason nodded and pulled out a LAW. Crouching, he quickly turned the corner, fired the rocket, and ducked back. With a deafening crash and slight rumble, the machine gun fell silent, and smoke and dust hovered up over the massive hole in the second floor of the building. Wolf and his team immediately sprang out of cover and sprinted across the small courtyard to the door. Corporal Baldwin kicked it it, and Wolf and McAllister cleared the room. "Clear!" Wolf grunted. Outside, he could hear the rest of the squad exchanging fire with some shooters upstairs. "Baldy, take New Guy and clear the rest of this floor. Conk, you're with me, upstairs!" Conk nodded and followed Wolf as he crept up the stairs. The sergeant halted at the first door, which was open, leading into a room with two oblivious soldiers in it. Wolf quickly did a SWAT turn across the doorway to let Conk take up a better position. Giving a thumbs-up, Conk waited for the signal. Wolf nodded, and both Marines turned the corner and dropped both men with a couple quick shots. "Move," Wolf whispered, moving to line up at the next door. This door was closed. "I breach, you kill," Wolf said. Conk nodded, then took up a position directly facing the door. Wolf slammed down with his rifle butt, sending the door flying off its hinges. Conk immediately singled out his targets - two more shooters - and dropped them both with two shots to the back. "Clear!" he shouted. Baldwin and McAllister came sprinting up to them. "Two tangoes were on the first floor," Baldwin said, smirking. "Good work. One more room to clear. Three or four tangoes by the sound of it. Baldy, take point and breach," Wolf said. "On it, Wolf," Baldwin ran up to the door, paused then kicked it in. SLAP! Baldwin went down almost instantly, clutching the front of his throat. "SHIT!" Wolf bellowed, he slammed against the wall and tossed in a grenade. Once it exploded, he dashed into the room and pulled a table onto its side for cover. Several bullets passed through the flimsy wooden table, but deflected harmlessly off his armored chest plate, not having enough force to penetrate. Wolf looked over the table and snapped off a pair of shots into the first target he saw. Ducking down, he concetrated on the sounds of the last tango's weapon, then jumped up and dropped him with the last two shots in his clip. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed, dashing back out into the hallway. Conk was desperately trying to help Baldwin keep pressure on the wound. The bullet had hit him by mere chance, slipping into the gap between his helmet and chest plate. "One-Three, this is Three Alpha! We've got a man down! Medic!" ----------------------------------------------------------------- Lee mantled over the low basin of the fountain in the courtyard, followed by Roland and his team. "Base of fire! Keep 'em pinned down! Allen, Mike, take 'em out!" he ordered. "Moving!" Irick replied, dashing low across the courtyard to the doorway with his team. Lee stood up and pumped some rounds into any windows with muzzle flashes. Muzzle flashes, huh? Those weapons are some old shit, he thought, standing up to fire again. Inside, Irick and Dean combed the room for enemies. Irick waved his hand, and Ape and McAllen moved upstairs. He waved forward, and Dean hit the wall next to the next door. Irick stopped and listened. "Tangoes," he whispered. He could hear the faint sounds of men moving around inside. Irick raised his rifle and put five shots through the door. There was a cry and a thump! as someone hit the ground. Irick nodded, and Dean slammed the door open with his rifle butt. Irick went in, snapping off two shots at the only other man in the room, hiding in the corner. "Clear!" The man on the floor was squealing like a pig in pain. "God damn it. What are we supposed to do with him?" Dean asked. "I dunno. We don't often encounter wounded enemies. Leave him here, I guess," Irick replied. "Leave him? But won't he die?" "AAAAAGH!" the man screamed, clutching his leg even more tightly. "Errrrr....I guess I'll call in a medic," irick flicked on the comm. "One-Two, this is Alpha. We, errr, have a wounded tango. Request a, errr, medic? Over." "Forget it, Alpha. Three Alpha's got a man down, so the docs are a bit busy. Out," came Lee's curt reply. "Roger that," Irick flicked off the comm. "I guess we just leave him. Wolf's go a man down, so Kindret and Goldy are busy. Let's just go." "What do we do with him, then?" "Oh, fuck it!" Irick drew a pistol, walked over, and put a round in the man's head. His body jerked and stopped moving. "There, you fucking happy! Christ!" Irick moved up o the next door. "C'mon, damn it!" -------------------------------------------------------------------- "WOW! Yeah!" Sergeant Bradley whooped as he finished raking the house's foyer with his submachine gun. "Dead, dead, and dead! That's three, you son of a bitch!" "Yeah, yeah. Shut up," Corporal LeFaye grunted. "Room clear, sarge!" Bradley called. Alex and the rest of the squad entered the house. "Okay, Lundy, Dutch, come with me. We're goin' upstairs. Three floors, what fun. Brad, take the downstairs. Move," Alex ordered. Bradley and his two men kicked in the next door as the others ascended the stairs. Dutch moved up the hallway on the second floor landing against the wall. Peering around the corner into a hallway, he raised his rifle and dropped two men. "We got the second floor. You guys keep going," Dutch said. "Alright. See you at the top." Alex and Lundy's team cautiously moved up the last flight of stairs. "move ment front!" Alex whispered, flattening himself against a wall. At the end of the sole hallway on the third floor, the a door slammed shut. Four men saw Lundy's team moving and started firing. "I got 'im!" Aster shouted. He dove across the hall and rolled back onto his feet inside a room on the other side. He charged and burst through the door to the adjoining room, now on the flank of two of the men. He snapped off five shots and both men fell like sacks of stones. "Two doan!" "Right," Alex and Corporal Carr leaned around and emptied their clips down the hall. The remaining two soldiers were killed, a wet slap! signaling the bullet striking home. "Move!" Suddenly, a great roaring sound forced them to cover their ears. "Damn it! What the hell is that?" Alex swore. "I dunno! I just want to shut it up!" Lundy dashed up to the door and slammed it open. Alex and the others followed him out. There was a hovercopter, about to take off, sitting on the roof of the building. Three men were boarding, two with rifles. "Drop 'em!" Alex yelled over the din, instinctively raising his rifle and firing. The two men dropped before they could raise their rifles. The last man, unarmed, jumped onto the chopper. "FREEZE!" Alex roared. But the hovercopter roared again, even louder, knocking all five men off their feet. It launched into the air and flew off. Lying on the floor, Lundy started to laugh. "'Freeze!'? Who were you kidding?" Lundy said, laughing hysterically. Alex got to his feet. "Well, at least I know who that was." "Who? Who would make you yell freeze to an unarmed NC? Everyone?" Lundy said jokingly. "No. Public Enemy Number One. I'll call it in." "Bloody 'ell," Aster muttered. |
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