An orchestra. A work of art, an Opera sung to the tune of war. That's what battle had become for the Soldier. Wildcats and their rockets acting as his powerful Percussion, the buzzing rotors and humming engines his Strings. Exploding RPGs, grenades, and the chest thumping booms of the heavy machine guns his Brass. Small arms fire, the snaps and cracks of rounds faster then the speed of sound, these were his woodwinds. The men shouting orders, the boots crunching the ground underfoot, the rattles and clanks of their gear. All these came together as the choir of his symphony. A wild and untamed performance that had no conductor. That was Echo's job. They shaped the field of battle and controlled the chaotic noise, transforming it from an disorganized cacophony into an expertly executed piece.

Dima broke from his momentary trance as Nikolaj began to issue the plan of attack. Nodding, the Russian retrieved his VANT-VM ballistic assault shield from the space between himself and the furthest interior wall. Strapping the appropriate support lines onto the shield, he loosened the right side in order to allow the use of his rifle upon dismount. Pulling the action back on his AK-105, the charging handle met the safety lever, a unique feature of AK pattern weapons, allowing him to confirm he was chambered and ready to go. Resting the rifle against his side on a single point sling, Dima pulled the PP-2000 from it's specialized holster and slid a magazine home before chambering a round. Saying he was sufficiently prepared would be an understatement. Not long after the rest of them had finished their own preparations, the APC's M2 rumbled to life. Echo, taking the opportunity presented to them, disembarked under the cover of it's suppressive fire.

The fighting began immediately as the poorly equip adversary attempted to organize in the face of their lightning assault. AKMs barked with their distinct chatter while rounds could be seen striking the concrete surfaces of the building in retaliation. Enemy rounds kicked up dust around the team before their Dutch supporting machine-gun elements tore the pirates exposing themselves a new asshole, effectively stopping fire from the roof. Hearing Starshiná Volkov's orders though his headset, the Operator fell in line behind his team leader. "Roger, covering!" He returned, putting two rapidly fired rounds into a man exiting the building ahead. The skinnies were coming out in droves now, ripe for the picking. The sergeant knew their modus operandi and showed little mercy, plugging holes into targets as they appeared with his high velocity 7N10 ammunition. Seeing the technical roll up the street like a bat out of hell, Dima like others in the squad, began laying fire into the vehicle's crew compartment. Luckily, the 5.45x39 variant he was using had increased performance when used on hard targets compared to older iterations of the round. Once the APC began ripping into the vehicle, he disengaged and returned his attention to their objective.

Watching as team Red began bounding toward their entry point, he took the chance to rock a fresh magazine into his weapon. Tucking the half full mag into his plate carrier, Dima once again received new orders from Volkov. Nodding his understanding, the Russian collapsed the stock on his rifle and let it drop. Satisfied with the weapons position, he finished pulling tight the loose straps on his shield's suspension system. "Roger, moving!" He shouted, drawing his PP-2000 submachine-gun.

Moving just ahead of his team, Dima acted as a sort of mobile cover while they maneuvered into position. The move was a risky one, but it was a method the Russian was well versed in. The shock and awe factor of his team advancing with the cover of his shield was having the desired effect. As the weaker willed individuals broke from cover, they were quickly gunned down by his colleagues, clearing the way for Blue team. Positioning himself in front of the door, Dima removed one of the liquid shaped charges from his gear and planted it on the center of the door.

"Get behind me!" He yelled, before hearing a man scream in Arabic only to be cut off mid cry. Looking over his shoulder proved to be almost comical. Not only had the man failed, he had also been stuck like a pig. Extremists deserved what they got; most of them were animals in his opinion. Once his fellow Russian was stacked up and in place, Dima once again nodded his understanding.

"Gladly," he said, before raising his shield to absorb the incoming blast.

"Three. Two. One. BREACHING!"

Mashing the clacker connected to the charge, Dima dropped the device which was attached to a bungie and pushed into the breach while drawing his weapon. Immediately upon entry the Operator came into contact with two disoriented fighters. Both were clearly struggling to stand after the explosion but this didn't stop Dima from putting them both down with a short burst of 9x19 death. The men dropped, their old Kevlar vests unable to withstand his specialized 7N31 "Armor Piercing" ammunition.

"I'm clear in the hall! Moving to clear right!" he screamed, flicking on the integrated high illumination system on his shield. Stepping over the bodies, Dima came face to face with the barrel of an AKM. The weapon had been swung around the doorway of an adjacent room, giving him little to engage. So, if the bastard wouldn't play fair, neither would he. Barreling forward, the Russian caught the muzzle of the weapon with his shield just as it went off causing the rounds that hit to splash back at the shooters hand.

"Ready to breach?" he asked, waiting for his support to confirm.