The explosion rocked the ground, as the dust kicked up, the building completely vanishing, as did most of anything down the street. The noise of it was gargantuan, and the ground itself felt like it shook for a good second, before it stopped. By the time it was visible again, there wasn't much left of it all, the building looked like it had fallen like a pack of cards, most of the structure completely gutted. The noise itself, and the sheer amount of PETN that had been detonated left very little, and it took over a minute to really just understand just how fucking massive the explosion had been...this was more like a controlled demolition, Nikolaj thought to himself. "Nice, nice! Clear your ears!" The Dane added, as he looked across, moving out as bits of everything rained down, small bits of gravel and concrete, gently filling the area in dust. He had to wipe his Oakleys once more, his F2000 raised as he adjusted his throat mic a little with his left hand, before speaking in. "Yankee One-One, this is Echo Actual, we are moving to Primary LZ, we'll have smoke for your arrival, how copy?" "Understood Echo Actual, awaiting smoke." "Okay then...Goldfarb, you're up on lead, we follow in a column, we're headed down to the beach. Take us there." Moving through the streets, Nikolaj let the Israeli take point, the whole unit aware that while this area was pretty much pacified, in a city like this, it was always . Moving between a pair of old crumbling buildings, the team made it onto the beach, where Nikolaj knew that the extraction was due. It was a good stop, neither too exposed from RPG fire or small arms, yet clear enough for the Royal Navy Wildcat to park itself onto the sands with ease. Taking the smoke grenade from his carrier, the Dane gave a simple pull of the pin and threw it forward, the blue smoke rushing out of the canister before it eventually became a far greater cloud, Nikolaj moving through and holding a position on the beach proper, adjusting his sunglasses once more as he kept his position. The beach was cleared, and the Wildcat was already on approach, sweeping in as the skids slowly and surely scraped the sandy shore, Nikolaj posting his knee into the sand as he covered. The team began to clamber in, two by two, moving in pairs and filling the innards first, before Nikolaj moved up himself. Throwing himself in, Nikolaj clipped into the side of the Wildcat's right door, the seating inside offering enough room for about six, but the whole team being about eight, it meant that two were on the sides, and with Nikolaj being second to last in, he was standing on the skid, leaning off the side. Not the best place for the acting leader of the team, and one that was turbulent, very, very noisy, and would do for now, knowing that Volkov was among the first in. Rifle high and pointing out, he looked inside, before adjusting his comms. "All members accounted for, we are clear!" Nikolaj had to yell hard to the pilot of Yankee-One-One, barely even hearing himself, as the pilot gave a simple nod. "Copy, Echo Actual, we are dusting off." The helicopter's blades thundered, pummeling the sand and the air around Nikolaj hard, as it got louder, crecendoing almost in a sense as it pulled off the beach, the skids taking less weight as the helicopter gave a turn and headed 45 degrees away from the beach, toward the sea, and towards the deployment of Assault Craft that were sitting offshore, a small cluster of Dutch Marines still heading into the city from the looks of things, as Nikolaj looked back in, looking over the team. They were dealing with themselves, any scuffs, any injuries, anything that was something they could attend to now. The operation may have been over, but Nikolaj knew there was one hell of a lot of paperwork to do when they arrived back in Djibouti, and back to Chievnor. He couldn't wait to see Merlin again, just to have him ------------------------ Pulling into Chievnor after what felt like minutes to Merlin, but was actually two hours worth of driving, he breathed out, looking across. "Well then. This is what being in looks like. Chievnor." He said, clearing his throat as he took a little water from his bag, sipping it a little, before putting it back. Stepping out, the morning summer air was crisp, but cold, the rain subsiding by now. Merlin looked across to Olivia, slinging the bag out with him, the P226 tucked away in a holster. "We're going to get you to the Physio first, because whatever might be in your system, could be fucking with you. Then you can grab some sleep in the bunk, over that way. You look like you're in need of at least a day's worth." Merlin said, as he pointed across at the wooden hut, the darkness covering the airfield at this time of morning, with the sun barely coming up, the sound of seagulls and hubub in the distance as some sort of vehicles were being dispatched somewhere. "We'll get to work on refreshing you tomorrow, for now, just R&R, Sergeant. Take whatever time you have to take, just get your mind back together." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [h1][center][color=32CD32][b] Part One: Kører med Ulvene [/b][/color][/center][/h1] [h1][center][color=32CD32][b] (Run with Wolves) [/b][/color][/center][/h1] [i]“If you run with wolves, you will learn how to howl.”[/i]- Unknown [b]7th July, 2020 1600 Hours[/b] [b] Royal Marines Base Chievnor, Devon, United Kingdom[/b] The firing range was sheltered, underneath a metal cover, and offered a range of targets in the particularly short range- from around 20m, to 200m, it wasn't far at all, but for Merlin's purposes, it was enough. He still wore the same sort of clothes from a couple of nights ago- but instead of the jeans, Merlin wore a pair of MTP trousers, and a pair of Wiley X sunglasses over his eyes, no beanie over his medium-length hair. He clutched the SCAR tight in his Mechanix wearing hands, looking down at Olivia, knowing she had tooled up and was getting back into firing a rifle. It was fast, but they needed her back into operations quick, and from what he could tell, Merlin guessed she was holding her own again. "Anyway, go for 150, four targets, clear them out. You've had clean shots so far, your marksmanship is still on point. Keep it up." Merlin simply said, his voice commanding, authoritative, crystal in the way it came across. Pointing the rifle down, he hit the safety, standing up tall as he looked back over at Olivia once more. "I'll start triggering the range, remember the pattern. Remember, this is a refresh. Not a competition. Or else we drag the lads in and get pints involved afterward. It never ends well." He said, as he slung the rifle down, wearing a belt with a couple of 7.62mm mags stowed in the front, chuckling a little at his last statement. It had happened, and surprisingly enough, it always ended up going differently. The following chugging of cider was not something many SOF units would permit, but this was how Merlin ran his ship, and when the worst shot was revealed, it was always entertaining to see a pint downed in five seconds or a particularly shitty punishment being doles out to everyone. Confidence-building stuff, Merlin said to himself. It worked. Mostly. The team had returned the last evening after spending the afternoon waiting for a transport plane from Djibouti to the UK, via France, and following a debrief, meeting Merlin once more, the debrief having copious elements of the explosion footage played over again, they were left to their own devices, to just be ready for deployment in the next few days. Intelligence could take time to recover, and in this instance, it was looking very clear. The PETN wasn't local made, it was imported, and 250kg was clearly enough to be able to make some serious fucking boat-based bombs. It was beyond the remit of regular Pirates that operated in the Red Sea, it was clearly Al-Shabab making move, something bold but very, very stupid indeed. The other incursions into Somaliland had delivered, but it was all short-term gains, and no doubt, a unit different to Echo or the Dutch Marine Corps were going to have to continuously keep the threat at bay. Still, the find that Echo had made was significant, and tracing the stash was the next objective- going back over Nikolaj's footage from his TOS, as well as local intelligence on the ground would be responsible for that, and it would take a little while to do. Chievnor had died down as a Royal Marines base in the last four years, though it still acted as the helm of command for the 24 Commando, Royal Engineers, and was a significant airfield in the South-West for the British military. The compound set aside for Echo was on the coastal, western side of the base, covered by a fence of it's own. Within that compound a Barrack inclusive of a small mess and bunks, the covered firing range that Merlin and Olivia were inside that could be reconfigured for mock-ups, assault courses or any other training purposes, alongside a small vehicle pool that had a few civvy and military vehicles within it, a briefing hut, alongside a couple of other buildings that were either places to rehearse structure entry, or just left a little derelict. Being fairly cut off, there was hardly anyone here, bar for Echo, as well as other general administrative staff that kept things ticking over, be it in SIGNT or other minor roles- though they still required a particularly high clearance that almost no branch of the British Armed Forces would demand. The other side of the runway predominantly had cargo aircraft, only one singular C17 sitting empty, and a host of military vehicles used by the Royal Marines- predominantly Jackal and Husky vehicles, being tooled up for deployment or back from a tour, the rest predominantly used by the Royal Marines for their benefit, numerous barracks, storage hangars and vehicle pools scattered across. But Echo had it's presence here, albeit quietly. The sun was out, and it was just over 25C, a temperature where it was good. For a couple of the team in particular, it seemed like the right weather. A barbecue was going outside, and for the moment, Merlin didn't entirely know where everyone was, though he knew a couple were definitely making some sweet-smelling burgers and sausages on that Barbie, and the rest were inside. A couple of members of Echo were on leave, and could be taken out of the Task Force if they decided not to come back- it had happened before, where they either returned back to national service, or just left the forces altogether. Not Merlin. Not yet, he thought to himself. "Okay, targets front!" He yelled, his instructor voice booming throughout the covered shelter, echoing across the concrete sides, as he slid the large handle down, the steel, human-outlined targets popping up down range behind plywood and concrete blocks of cover, ready to be shot at. After this, Merlin could kill for some food...maybe not literally, but he wouldn't mind a burger, an excess between the team's intensive training. That, and the fact he wanted to see Echo's little display team come in. "How are those burgers coming along? You best save me one!" -------------------------------- 15,000 feet higher, and you could already feel the air's crisp coldness, even in the bright afternoon, the innards of the Hercules feeling chilly as would be expected at this alttidue. Looking back over at the other two, Nikolaj knew that this was Dominique's territory, and for some reason, Aleksandra and Dima had come along, for what was going to surely be one of the more interesting of his skydives. Not an entirely practical HALO or HAHO, not for insertion or to get to a particular reconnaissance spot, but rather, this was for fun. Fun. Actual, fun. He had maybe a couple hundred, but someone like Dominique, this was her spot, this was perhaps for her where she was most comfortable, thousands and thousands. A Parajumper lived for this, he simply did this for function, when kitted up for a long-term operation of either reconnaissance or direct action, he guessed to himself. It was a way of entertaining the rest of the team, chilling out after their operations, and hell....why not. The C130 was carrying a bunch of RM vehicles for delivery up to Scotland for an exercise, but by some madness, Merlin had managed to convince the ATC, and the pilot, to circle and to get the aircraft to an altitude for a jump, for Dominique's sake. It wouldn't even be too big a diversion...and by the time the door had gotten to halfway open, the three would be out into the salient. It felt dodgy, but even Nikolaj felt good about this. It was a chance to relax, at the very least. "So, we're following your lead then?" Nikolaj asked Dominique, the three seated close to the rear door, the plan being that they'd try and land in the area right in front of the currently sheltered gun range, after having a little fun in the sky. Adjusting the rig on his back, Nikolaj wore a grey jumpsuit, the cuffs done up to his elbows, even owing to the fact that it would still be fairly warm at this altitude itself.