Before boarding the plane
A auto-sense in Dom's suit snapped the face plate closed as the first shot from Imran's revolver roared out. The round kicked off his left shoulder. The rest of the shots pinged off the armor, in one case ricocheting up and pinging off the underside of his helmet. He didn't stop walking until he was standing right in front of Imran. The shark grin face plate sliding to the side. He glared good naturedly at the man, "Satisfied? And yes it is very good. It's not prototype, just a very well built suit." HE grinned then, "Our mutual friend should know better then to allow himself to live out his fetishes in places that the Mafia has a hand in. He'll work off his debt to us eventually. He knows we'll keep our traps shut about what he does to women, as long as he does his part. My Capo is good like that. And I'm good at keeping my mouth shut about things too. Never knew you could do that kind of thing with a chicken, tape and a razor though..." He grinned as he made his way into the building.
On the plane in
Dom carefully slid HEI-T rounds into the hopper that he'd be wearing on his back. The High Explosive Incendiary Rounds, with a tracer tip were standard ammo for the M242. The Bushmaster spat the things like a pez dispenser. When the hopper is almost full he closes it up, and with an almost stupid amount of ease he lifts it with one hand, hooks it on his back, connects the feeder belt to the side of the M242 and grins, "Ready and willing."
Howard knelt beside the big armored APC-ish vehicle that he had called in a favor to get for them on this operation. IT had a mounted HMG in case they needed it, and was armored up and hardened enough to stand an RPG or three. Howard was making sure it'd handle the landing, and refamilarizing himself with the manual so he could drive it. He himself was nicely kitted out. He didn't have his Lynx on him but the M39, and his carbine and heavy pistol would make good work of clearing out anyone that tried to get at their getaway vehicle.
On the ground
Howard grinned broadly, steering the big truck like APC through the streets, and making a hard beeline for the facility. He grinned, and ran the gate. Sending both of the steel decorative gates flying. He skidded to a halt, making sure the back loading ramp was out of the line of fire. Then popped the back. He then climbed up and into the gunner's nest. Activating the HMG, and providing suppression.
Dom had planted himself at the ramp, intent on being one of the first out. As they came to a stop and the ramp dropped he strode out all nonchalant. He didn't have a weapon in his hands. As he came around the side of the truck fire was directed on him. His face plate snapping shut. He strode out front of the truck and grinned, "Your opening is..." He pulled the M242 off his back, worked the safety, braced himself and unleashed hell. Loud coughs of the big autocannon roared into the courtyard. The HEI rounds blowing holes in the defenses cover. Sending them scattering to find harder cover. Dom grinned, "open...get moving."
Howard and Dom kept the grounds clear with combined fire. Dom causing a great deal of carnage with that big autocannon. Ripping apart cover to keep the defense running. Dom could hear some of it. But what he heard the most of is the song, "Speak Softly, Love" playing on a set of earphones tucked into his ears. The soft music at odds with what is happening right now, but he really thought it fit really well.
BigPapaBelial Member
I have seen you...I have watched you...
STATUS: Quickly RPGuild we must Matriculate! 7 mos ago
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Most Recent Posts
Victor bobbed in the air, getting used to the controls. He rolled side to side as he tried to right himself. He grunted, finding himself upside down again. He sighed and looked at Natalie, "I feel like I should have tried this earlier now. I feel like a right idiot right now." He tried again, trying to get back upright. He chuckled at himself as he rolled right back upside down, then kept going for abit before ending up on his back. He managed to get turned around so he could atleast see her. The grin on his face saying he was atleast having fun. He bobbed abit and managed to get himself turning in one direction, getting used to the controls.
He smiled at his future wife. Winking at her playfully. Turning he felt it rather then heard the first release. He turned, watching his Athena. Then the eruption started. He winced a little and smiled, this one would be good. Then he heard the rip. He blinked and reached out to her just in case as the thunder roared!
Eric pulled himself up beside Markus. He adjusted where he is sitting. The Canadian ex-JTF2 hrmed, "The big pair get the cushy jobs...we get the fun stuff." He brought a monocular up to his eye to check out the location. The monocular was just one thing he had brought with him. Holster on his back is a C1A1 battle rifle, with C79A2 optical sight attached to the top of it. Good old Canadian designated rifle slightly older, but updated and modified for the operation. The battle rifle is unsuppressed as the older weapon didn't support the suppressor attachments. But it did had a decent flash hider on it. And a rigged vertical underbarrel handle to help with the kick. He had a suppressed MP5, integrated silencer, with mounted reddot collimator sight, and red day visible laser sight. He had a pair of Browning Hi-Power pistols too tucked up under his shoulders in holsters. And a brace of RGO short fuse grenades. He also had an extendable Asp baton hidden away up one of his sleeves. He had come in with the intent to bust some heads. And carried ammo for all the weapons too boot.
He smiled brightly, "Let's do this then shall we partner?" He followed Markus in. Sliding down the embankment to his partners left. Once down out came his silenced MP5, scanning the ditch just in case. Then checking the ground across the way on the other side of the fence. He smiled brightly. Waiting for the fence to be breached, "Got to wonder about these dealers. Why they build such great places out in the middle of fricking no where." He stepped forward, grabbed the fence just below the acid cut line and pulled outwards, seperating the cut section from the rest of the fence. He set it aside, and lead the way through, "Makes you wonder what else they could put their riches into. I mean I get double parked sometimes. And it makes me wonder if I had a tank if someone would double park me. If I had the money these guys do. I'd be outfitting a LAV or something for public use. No more double parking shit heads." He watched his corner as he pressed his back to an outbuilding, "Just a thought you know?"
He smiled at his future wife. Winking at her playfully. Turning he felt it rather then heard the first release. He turned, watching his Athena. Then the eruption started. He winced a little and smiled, this one would be good. Then he heard the rip. He blinked and reached out to her just in case as the thunder roared!
Eric pulled himself up beside Markus. He adjusted where he is sitting. The Canadian ex-JTF2 hrmed, "The big pair get the cushy jobs...we get the fun stuff." He brought a monocular up to his eye to check out the location. The monocular was just one thing he had brought with him. Holster on his back is a C1A1 battle rifle, with C79A2 optical sight attached to the top of it. Good old Canadian designated rifle slightly older, but updated and modified for the operation. The battle rifle is unsuppressed as the older weapon didn't support the suppressor attachments. But it did had a decent flash hider on it. And a rigged vertical underbarrel handle to help with the kick. He had a suppressed MP5, integrated silencer, with mounted reddot collimator sight, and red day visible laser sight. He had a pair of Browning Hi-Power pistols too tucked up under his shoulders in holsters. And a brace of RGO short fuse grenades. He also had an extendable Asp baton hidden away up one of his sleeves. He had come in with the intent to bust some heads. And carried ammo for all the weapons too boot.
He smiled brightly, "Let's do this then shall we partner?" He followed Markus in. Sliding down the embankment to his partners left. Once down out came his silenced MP5, scanning the ditch just in case. Then checking the ground across the way on the other side of the fence. He smiled brightly. Waiting for the fence to be breached, "Got to wonder about these dealers. Why they build such great places out in the middle of fricking no where." He stepped forward, grabbed the fence just below the acid cut line and pulled outwards, seperating the cut section from the rest of the fence. He set it aside, and lead the way through, "Makes you wonder what else they could put their riches into. I mean I get double parked sometimes. And it makes me wonder if I had a tank if someone would double park me. If I had the money these guys do. I'd be outfitting a LAV or something for public use. No more double parking shit heads." He watched his corner as he pressed his back to an outbuilding, "Just a thought you know?"
Alright, here we go kids.
Some of you may not want to work in a large group. But here's the chance to have the big meet up, before the real shit hits the fan.
I do believe we are all now in the same room more or less.
I also have been thinking about a new mechanic. Something that the inspiration piece had in spades.
Hear me out here.
I mentioned it in my post. A crap weapon, in the inspiration piece anyway, has the very real chance of blowing up in your hand. Had it happen to me last night while I was playing for inspiration. Now our base pistols will not be party to this, but anything we pick up in the form of Rifles, shotguns, Long rifles or auto-rifles will be susceptible to the problems of good old wear and tear. Let's face it, none of the poor mooks that are in this country know a god damn thing about how to care for a weapon. The Scorpion gave them the guns, but didn't train them in the minutiae of the workings of it and cleaning of it. For example, that AR that Arran picked up, might have a few uses in it, before it jams, the jam can be cleared, but how often do you think that's going to happen before the chamber is fucked, or the whole mechanism seizes?
So I didn't want to just institute this, and have people be right pissed. So I wanted to put it forward and see how everything thinks about it.
In a nutshell once we all have scavenged weapons, I will be keeping a behind the scenes watch on them, and send out PMs to everyone notifying them how long they will last. I'll measure it in battle posts. An okay AK may last upwards of 10 battle posts before it jams the first time. 6 battle posts later it will jam a second time, 4 battle posts later it will jam it's third and final time. The next time I send a PM which I will do everytime it jams, the third time, that's it that gun is toast. It could explode in your hands, or just be unable to be cleared.
So I wanted to put this idea forward. If it's a resounding NO then that's okay. If it's a yes we can work it in.
Some of you may not want to work in a large group. But here's the chance to have the big meet up, before the real shit hits the fan.
I do believe we are all now in the same room more or less.
I also have been thinking about a new mechanic. Something that the inspiration piece had in spades.
Hear me out here.
I mentioned it in my post. A crap weapon, in the inspiration piece anyway, has the very real chance of blowing up in your hand. Had it happen to me last night while I was playing for inspiration. Now our base pistols will not be party to this, but anything we pick up in the form of Rifles, shotguns, Long rifles or auto-rifles will be susceptible to the problems of good old wear and tear. Let's face it, none of the poor mooks that are in this country know a god damn thing about how to care for a weapon. The Scorpion gave them the guns, but didn't train them in the minutiae of the workings of it and cleaning of it. For example, that AR that Arran picked up, might have a few uses in it, before it jams, the jam can be cleared, but how often do you think that's going to happen before the chamber is fucked, or the whole mechanism seizes?
So I didn't want to just institute this, and have people be right pissed. So I wanted to put it forward and see how everything thinks about it.
In a nutshell once we all have scavenged weapons, I will be keeping a behind the scenes watch on them, and send out PMs to everyone notifying them how long they will last. I'll measure it in battle posts. An okay AK may last upwards of 10 battle posts before it jams the first time. 6 battle posts later it will jam a second time, 4 battle posts later it will jam it's third and final time. The next time I send a PM which I will do everytime it jams, the third time, that's it that gun is toast. It could explode in your hands, or just be unable to be cleared.
So I wanted to put this idea forward. If it's a resounding NO then that's okay. If it's a yes we can work it in.
Lazarus rolled his shoulder. The bastards had visited him one more time in his cell. And had come really close to ripping his shoulder loose from it's socket. He quietly groaned as bones popped and snapped, his muscled ached. He'd been tortured before. But he usually had an out. His platoon were working to get him out somehow. This though was differant. He didn't have JTF2-Squad B3 to come and back him up. Holly wasn't around, and neither was Jeff or Simon. He couldn't trust for Alita to slip in during the night to hand him a knife for when the breakout occured. He had only himself.
So he was really surprised when he heard shooting and shouting. He got up from the floor and leaned against the wall, just in case. When doors opened, it paid to not be directly in the line of fire. More shots, he heard death rattles. The door opened and he looked down the barrel of his own King Cobra. He hrmed, taking it as it's offered to him. He checked the chambers, then got up and grabbed the rest of his stuff. ammo cylinders, trench knife and the money he had been sent in with. Including the gold coins he thought he was going to lose for sure. He hadn't been sure why the Canadian Government had issued him some freshly pressed gold coins. But he wasn't going to complain, it might prove useful. He gathered his things, and also briefly thought about grabbing a really really grubby looking MAC10 he spotted. But the thing looked like it'd blow up in his hand. Last thing he wanted was to lose his hand to a badly maintained weapon.
He sooned joined Arran outside. He looked at the man, then grunted out, "Lazarus Stamp, looks like I owe you a few here." He extended his hand to the other man, "You said the Scorpion, I know the name...who sent you? Better yet tell me when we get out of here."
As if to prove his point a shot from a long rifle, badly aimed likely without a scope on it whizzed by. The Canadian merc turned, heavy revolver in hand. He looked about, spotted the man with the ancient looking Mosin rifle trying to draw another bead on them. He gripped the big handcannon with on hand, aimmed and squeezed the trigger. The big gun roared. The .357 round rocketing down range, and punching the man off his feet. Sending him down hard to the ground, "Let's get the heck out of here. There will be more coming." Despite still hurting from the beating he had taken earlier. Lazarus lead the way to Merc Hotel. The best place to bunker down after this bullshit. They'd both have to leave Bekalo after this though.
It took them a few minutes to reach Merc Alley. Lazarus having holstered his revolver in the back of his pants for now. Stepping in he looked about, making sure there wasn't anyone pointing a gun his way already. His eyes travelled over the many people in the bar. HE then moved aside and headed for a table, hoping against hope that Arran would follow. Right now, Arran was the only guy he could call a friend in this shit hole. And he desperately needed a friend. He kept casting glances about the bar, trying to figure that if he and Arran were here for the same reason it seemed. Was there anyone else in this room who was too?
As he sat down he felt the twinge of where one of his arms had been badly bruised. Creator damn his soul but he felt like he stood out because of the beating he had taken. He then got to thinking, that this also might make him look like a good target for anyone who might want to make a name for themselves. Shit if things weren't worse.
Laz looked about and instead of staying seated he got up. Catching Arran as he passed, whispering as he passes, "Not the best place. The hotel might be safer." Lazarus limped down the street a few feet, pulled open the door and slipped inside.
Once inside Laz slumped into a chair. Looking about again, making sure of the safety of the area. He shifted his gun into his lap, hiding it against the inside of his left thigh. He looked up at Arran when he entered, "Now...pal...let's talk. I want to know what ever you might know. I parachuted into the country, walked 8 miles, and got picked up by a convoy in the jungle." Lazarus shifted abit, spotting a man walking by, getting stopped by another man. Lazarus was about to put them out of mind when he heard something about the Scorpion. The Canadian was on his feet, "What's this about the Scorpion?" He had his handcannon in hand, pointed towards the ground to try and look as non-confrontational as he could, "How do you know that name? Who sent you? I need to know." He limped abit as he approached the two, "This country is a shithole, but it seems quite a few people know that pseudonym." He caught himself on a wall, holding his side where that bastard jailor had done a number on his ribs, "What do you know? What you know I need to know, and I'm even willing to pay to know it."
So he was really surprised when he heard shooting and shouting. He got up from the floor and leaned against the wall, just in case. When doors opened, it paid to not be directly in the line of fire. More shots, he heard death rattles. The door opened and he looked down the barrel of his own King Cobra. He hrmed, taking it as it's offered to him. He checked the chambers, then got up and grabbed the rest of his stuff. ammo cylinders, trench knife and the money he had been sent in with. Including the gold coins he thought he was going to lose for sure. He hadn't been sure why the Canadian Government had issued him some freshly pressed gold coins. But he wasn't going to complain, it might prove useful. He gathered his things, and also briefly thought about grabbing a really really grubby looking MAC10 he spotted. But the thing looked like it'd blow up in his hand. Last thing he wanted was to lose his hand to a badly maintained weapon.
He sooned joined Arran outside. He looked at the man, then grunted out, "Lazarus Stamp, looks like I owe you a few here." He extended his hand to the other man, "You said the Scorpion, I know the name...who sent you? Better yet tell me when we get out of here."
As if to prove his point a shot from a long rifle, badly aimed likely without a scope on it whizzed by. The Canadian merc turned, heavy revolver in hand. He looked about, spotted the man with the ancient looking Mosin rifle trying to draw another bead on them. He gripped the big handcannon with on hand, aimmed and squeezed the trigger. The big gun roared. The .357 round rocketing down range, and punching the man off his feet. Sending him down hard to the ground, "Let's get the heck out of here. There will be more coming." Despite still hurting from the beating he had taken earlier. Lazarus lead the way to Merc Hotel. The best place to bunker down after this bullshit. They'd both have to leave Bekalo after this though.
It took them a few minutes to reach Merc Alley. Lazarus having holstered his revolver in the back of his pants for now. Stepping in he looked about, making sure there wasn't anyone pointing a gun his way already. His eyes travelled over the many people in the bar. HE then moved aside and headed for a table, hoping against hope that Arran would follow. Right now, Arran was the only guy he could call a friend in this shit hole. And he desperately needed a friend. He kept casting glances about the bar, trying to figure that if he and Arran were here for the same reason it seemed. Was there anyone else in this room who was too?
As he sat down he felt the twinge of where one of his arms had been badly bruised. Creator damn his soul but he felt like he stood out because of the beating he had taken. He then got to thinking, that this also might make him look like a good target for anyone who might want to make a name for themselves. Shit if things weren't worse.
Laz looked about and instead of staying seated he got up. Catching Arran as he passed, whispering as he passes, "Not the best place. The hotel might be safer." Lazarus limped down the street a few feet, pulled open the door and slipped inside.
Once inside Laz slumped into a chair. Looking about again, making sure of the safety of the area. He shifted his gun into his lap, hiding it against the inside of his left thigh. He looked up at Arran when he entered, "Now...pal...let's talk. I want to know what ever you might know. I parachuted into the country, walked 8 miles, and got picked up by a convoy in the jungle." Lazarus shifted abit, spotting a man walking by, getting stopped by another man. Lazarus was about to put them out of mind when he heard something about the Scorpion. The Canadian was on his feet, "What's this about the Scorpion?" He had his handcannon in hand, pointed towards the ground to try and look as non-confrontational as he could, "How do you know that name? Who sent you? I need to know." He limped abit as he approached the two, "This country is a shithole, but it seems quite a few people know that pseudonym." He caught himself on a wall, holding his side where that bastard jailor had done a number on his ribs, "What do you know? What you know I need to know, and I'm even willing to pay to know it."
There will be no post from me today.
I apologise. I will post tomorrow. It's been a long, extremely trying day today.
RLCF ladies and gentlemen. I am sorry for this. This RP will continue there just has to be some things I need to take care of in real life.
Please bare with me.
I apologise. I will post tomorrow. It's been a long, extremely trying day today.
RLCF ladies and gentlemen. I am sorry for this. This RP will continue there just has to be some things I need to take care of in real life.
Please bare with me.
"So we picked you up on the road American. What are you doing here?" A tall, thin African man with an odd east indian accent sat across the table from Lazarus. Laz looked at him with a brand of annoyance. He called him American, what the heck, why does everyone think that every white person is american? What in the actual fuck?
The man spoke again, "I thought you American's like to talk? Tell us what you're doing here American." Laz sighs, "Canadian..." The man blinked, "You talking crazy American? What the hell are you doing here?" Laz shook his head, "Canadian. I'm Canadian. I'm not from Americ-" He rocked as the man slammed his fist into his face. Lazarus let out a soft growl. But didn't say anything, and couldn't retaliate either what with his hands being cuffed behind the chair. The man grinned, "You want to talk stupid talk again American? I can beat you until you die American. Now tell me why you are here!" Lazarus hrmed, smiling, "Canadian...you ignorant fuck! I'm Canadian." The man hit him again.
Lazarus woke some time later, face down in a cell, the same cell he had spent a few hours last night. He coughed a few times to loosen his throat then rolled onto his back. He sighed then let out a groan of pain. Bastard had really done a number on him. Laz sat up carefully, groaning softly as he stretched to work out the kinks. A chuckle coming from the next cell over, "The guards didn't like your answer to something did they pal? Kept calling you a stupid lying American. You're obviously not American though. YEah the people out here can be pretty stupid." Lazarus just chuckled, letting the man know he heard him.
An almost pristine Jeep Wrangler pulled up into a parking a man in a business suit popping out of the driver side, a business case in either hand. And making a street beeline for Merc. Alley, the site of alot of weapon vendors, and equipment stores. He walks up to one of the vendors. The man behind the stall looking at him oddly then starting. Mumbling something about the Lord of Guns. The man smiles, opening his cases, revealing a quadruplet of brand spanking new integrated silenced MP5s. The stall owner looks at the guns then down at the crappy AK74Us on his stall. The man in the suit smiles, "No charge for it, just ship something my way later when you have a moment." He looks around at the other weapon vendors nearby. He raises a finger to his lips, "I'll do the same for the rest of you. Just kick up 10% to me. Do that and I'll replace all your inventory by the end of the month."
One by one the vendors all agreed. Who could say not to an offer like that from the famous Scorpion. Just as quick as he came. He was into his Jeep, started it and in front of everyone the man no one would instantly know as the Scorpion was off, having brokered yet another business operation. Bekalo
Lazarus sighed softly, and tried to think of a way out of here. He couldn't stay here for too long. He'd have to get out. There was someway to get out. No one knew he is here as far as he knew. And it didn't sound like these guys were about to let him go either. They seemed to think he was either someone else entirely, or under some kind of orders from the U.S. for what ever purpose that was.
He groaned, then pulled himself up onto the bed in the corner of the cell. Nothing he could do now.
The man spoke again, "I thought you American's like to talk? Tell us what you're doing here American." Laz sighs, "Canadian..." The man blinked, "You talking crazy American? What the hell are you doing here?" Laz shook his head, "Canadian. I'm Canadian. I'm not from Americ-" He rocked as the man slammed his fist into his face. Lazarus let out a soft growl. But didn't say anything, and couldn't retaliate either what with his hands being cuffed behind the chair. The man grinned, "You want to talk stupid talk again American? I can beat you until you die American. Now tell me why you are here!" Lazarus hrmed, smiling, "Canadian...you ignorant fuck! I'm Canadian." The man hit him again.
Lazarus woke some time later, face down in a cell, the same cell he had spent a few hours last night. He coughed a few times to loosen his throat then rolled onto his back. He sighed then let out a groan of pain. Bastard had really done a number on him. Laz sat up carefully, groaning softly as he stretched to work out the kinks. A chuckle coming from the next cell over, "The guards didn't like your answer to something did they pal? Kept calling you a stupid lying American. You're obviously not American though. YEah the people out here can be pretty stupid." Lazarus just chuckled, letting the man know he heard him.
An almost pristine Jeep Wrangler pulled up into a parking a man in a business suit popping out of the driver side, a business case in either hand. And making a street beeline for Merc. Alley, the site of alot of weapon vendors, and equipment stores. He walks up to one of the vendors. The man behind the stall looking at him oddly then starting. Mumbling something about the Lord of Guns. The man smiles, opening his cases, revealing a quadruplet of brand spanking new integrated silenced MP5s. The stall owner looks at the guns then down at the crappy AK74Us on his stall. The man in the suit smiles, "No charge for it, just ship something my way later when you have a moment." He looks around at the other weapon vendors nearby. He raises a finger to his lips, "I'll do the same for the rest of you. Just kick up 10% to me. Do that and I'll replace all your inventory by the end of the month."
One by one the vendors all agreed. Who could say not to an offer like that from the famous Scorpion. Just as quick as he came. He was into his Jeep, started it and in front of everyone the man no one would instantly know as the Scorpion was off, having brokered yet another business operation. Bekalo
Lazarus sighed softly, and tried to think of a way out of here. He couldn't stay here for too long. He'd have to get out. There was someway to get out. No one knew he is here as far as he knew. And it didn't sound like these guys were about to let him go either. They seemed to think he was either someone else entirely, or under some kind of orders from the U.S. for what ever purpose that was.
He groaned, then pulled himself up onto the bed in the corner of the cell. Nothing he could do now.
Victor relaxed on his back for abit, catching his breath. Having really enjoyed that. He sat up, and watched Natalie don that helium suit. He'd developed quite a few fetishes during his time with her. And seeing her strap herself into almost any suit made him just a little bothered. He smiled though and let it wash over him. He sat and watched, when she was fully kitted up and before she jumped away he got up and gave her a kiss, "And you've got alot of it." He stepped back. He then looked at her, "Oh I know what it's like to ride you. But hmmm." He looked over to the other suit. She'd been busy. It was measured to fit his overly large frame. He wondered if it'd even fit.
He stood there for a time looking at the suit, turning as she makes her jump into the air and starts to drift.
He must have blacked out for abit. Because when he next blinked, he found himself half way into putting on the second helium suit. He stopped, looking up at Natalie in confusion, then down at the suit again. He stood there for abit, then shrugged and continued to put the suit on. He had somehow come this far. He wanted to go the rest of the way. May as well give it a try. You only live once after all. He can bench press trucks, flip pick ups, fly in a wing suit. Why not give this a try? Soon he has the full suit on. He's got everything hooked up to it. HE looks up at Natalie, takes a few running steps, and hits the control switch. Soon he's drifting up towards her. The rotor fans buzzing as they lift his heavy form into the air.
He fights to keep himself up right. But by the time he drifts to a stop beside Natalie, he's floating upside down. A huge grin on his face, "Okay....maybe I need some training." He fights to right himself, chuckling softly. He's got all the time he needs, sometimes you just need a littel vaccy.
He stood there for a time looking at the suit, turning as she makes her jump into the air and starts to drift.
He must have blacked out for abit. Because when he next blinked, he found himself half way into putting on the second helium suit. He stopped, looking up at Natalie in confusion, then down at the suit again. He stood there for abit, then shrugged and continued to put the suit on. He had somehow come this far. He wanted to go the rest of the way. May as well give it a try. You only live once after all. He can bench press trucks, flip pick ups, fly in a wing suit. Why not give this a try? Soon he has the full suit on. He's got everything hooked up to it. HE looks up at Natalie, takes a few running steps, and hits the control switch. Soon he's drifting up towards her. The rotor fans buzzing as they lift his heavy form into the air.
He fights to keep himself up right. But by the time he drifts to a stop beside Natalie, he's floating upside down. A huge grin on his face, "Okay....maybe I need some training." He fights to right himself, chuckling softly. He's got all the time he needs, sometimes you just need a littel vaccy.
Lazarus hadn't found himself a place to bunker down for abit. But what he had found was a road, and a road sign. Bekalo was less then two miles away. He didn't want to break out his map just yet. But he remembered from his briefing that Bekalo was one of 3 major cities in the country, and the capitol of the northern half of the country. It's the best place to start. There are so many mercs, and hard cases coming into the country looking for a quick buck that he could blend right in in the city. And it's as good a place as any to start his search. The fighting started up in the north part of the country anyway.
He remembered the briefing.
How about 3 years ago the UPL, the United Peoples League and the PUFfE, the People's United Front for Equality, sprang up during a time of relative poverty and trouble among the work and labour unions. The diamond, gold and silver mines in the country were laying workers off, and bringing workers in from out of country. The two groups wanted equality and equal rights among work and civil activities. What started as quiet and reasonable demonstrations, soon had armed escorts and men opening fire on their neighbors. Forgotten was the original reason for what they stood for and in just three years started the bitter civil war that now stood.
And according to many people, at it's heart was the Scorpion and his never ending flow of weapons and ammo into the country. The soldiers both adult and child, no one wanted to admit that some of the warlords were starting to indoctrinate children, their parents were even members of this or that faction and even urged their children to wield those AKs and shotguns. But the briefing seemed legit. Lazarus just figured it was part of how things went.
He hiked his way down the road, it'd take him maybe another hour or two, about by dawn to reach Bekalo. Things would just be getting up by the time he got there. If nothing went wrong between then and now of course. Of course as he thought that he heard something from behind him, turning around to see a trio of technicals driving towards him. He wouldn't have time to dart off into cover. As they approached, guns were pointed his way. Lazarus raised his arms, things were going south. Atleast when he was tossed into the back of one of the technicals with a rifle pointed at him, he was being taken towards Bekalo and where he wanted to go.
He remembered the briefing.
How about 3 years ago the UPL, the United Peoples League and the PUFfE, the People's United Front for Equality, sprang up during a time of relative poverty and trouble among the work and labour unions. The diamond, gold and silver mines in the country were laying workers off, and bringing workers in from out of country. The two groups wanted equality and equal rights among work and civil activities. What started as quiet and reasonable demonstrations, soon had armed escorts and men opening fire on their neighbors. Forgotten was the original reason for what they stood for and in just three years started the bitter civil war that now stood.
And according to many people, at it's heart was the Scorpion and his never ending flow of weapons and ammo into the country. The soldiers both adult and child, no one wanted to admit that some of the warlords were starting to indoctrinate children, their parents were even members of this or that faction and even urged their children to wield those AKs and shotguns. But the briefing seemed legit. Lazarus just figured it was part of how things went.
He hiked his way down the road, it'd take him maybe another hour or two, about by dawn to reach Bekalo. Things would just be getting up by the time he got there. If nothing went wrong between then and now of course. Of course as he thought that he heard something from behind him, turning around to see a trio of technicals driving towards him. He wouldn't have time to dart off into cover. As they approached, guns were pointed his way. Lazarus raised his arms, things were going south. Atleast when he was tossed into the back of one of the technicals with a rifle pointed at him, he was being taken towards Bekalo and where he wanted to go.
The borders would be manned most likely in places where it would be beneficial for a group to have a presense. So in some places yes the borders posts are manned, but there would be large tracts of land between the manned posts where it'd be easy to slip across with ease.
Mind you, that doesn't mean there aren't patrols along the borders. Armed Technical trucks with GPMGs or even black market HMGs and perhaps just perhaps GMGs. They can't watch 100% of the border at 100% of the time, but it's possible that there might be a truck passing by. It'd be rare but it could happen.
All options for an inflitration are open. So use your imagination.
The most heavy defenses would be at manned posts. 10 foot tall walls, fences, razor wire, gun emplacements. But the best you might get in unmanned areas is maybe a 5 foot barbed wire fence, that might not even be in good repair. Gaps in the wire etc.
Have fun with it right?
Mind you, that doesn't mean there aren't patrols along the borders. Armed Technical trucks with GPMGs or even black market HMGs and perhaps just perhaps GMGs. They can't watch 100% of the border at 100% of the time, but it's possible that there might be a truck passing by. It'd be rare but it could happen.
All options for an inflitration are open. So use your imagination.
The most heavy defenses would be at manned posts. 10 foot tall walls, fences, razor wire, gun emplacements. But the best you might get in unmanned areas is maybe a 5 foot barbed wire fence, that might not even be in good repair. Gaps in the wire etc.
Have fun with it right?
Letter contained within a package given to all operatives taking part in the operation
Good morning/evening Operative,
Let me be the first to express your countries deepest thanks for taking on this mission. Alot of people are dying and alot of people starving because of the instabilities in Africa. This little country in the center of the continent is like that little bit of tinder you put in a fire. It looks innocent enough, but with how Africa always has some little war going on somewhere, that little bit of tinder could cause the whole thing to go up in flames.
Several differant countries, some members of NATO, some not so, have all agreed that something needs to be done. But while the country is embroiled in it's little internal conflict, we can't justify sending in a large force to calm it all down. We do that the NATO council gets on our asses like herpes. So the idea is to send in several solo operatives. Men and women who have been out of the military for awhile, but who still retain the skills they learned there.
There will be several operatives in the country. You are not required to search them out and work with them, but many hands make short work.
You are being given your choice of melee weapon and pistol to take in with you. As this operation is not funded officially by the government of your country we cannot send you in with a full kit. Don't worry, your primary target is a gun runner and black marketeer. He's flooded the country with old and new weapons. If nothing else, you can pick a weapon up off a dead body somewhere. Some of them are going to be pieces of crap, but who knows there might be a gem or ten somewhere in there. The pistol, your melee weapon and your infiltration method are the only things we can spring for.
We want to be clear, if you should die during this operation, we don't know you, we can't afford to let it out that the governments in on this sent a wetwork team into the country. So be careful.
Once your primary missions are complete, we can provide extraction. But only once that occurs. Be careful soldier. We're counting on you. Good luck.
Lazarus read the letter over once more then folded it up and slipped it into the front pocket of the jacket he wore. He looked over at the jump master of the plane he sat in. The man nodded, holding up three fingers. Lazarus got to his feet carefully, checking his parachute harness carefully. One of the other Canadian soldiers in the plane coming over to get a second eye on him. The second soldier gave him a thumbs up. Laz nodded. He carefully strapped on his kit. The trench knife went to the small of his back, where he could reach back safely and grab it. The pistol strapped to his right thigh in a quick draw holster. He rolled his shoulders. Preparing for the jump to come. He had chosen to go in by HALO jump. It'd be quiet, quick and easy, something he had learned back with The Pats. And something he did quite often with JTF2.
The seconds ticked by. The Jumpmaster paced by him heading to the back ramp of the C-17 Globemaster. The massive plane had been picked because of it's long distance staying power. They needed it to get him in. It was a long way from any friendly landing strip. So it was strange that just 10 soldiers, a jump master, and Lazarus had been there, along with the flight crew. But the Canadian Government had though it best.
The jumpmaster pulled the lever to open the back ramp. He pointed at Lazarus then gestured to a position close to the inner edge of the ramp. Laz stepped forward, and got into a runner's starting stance. He waited. Watching the red ligth out of the corner of his eye. The jumpmaster had a hand in the air, two finger showing. He lowered one finger and Lazarus tensed. The Jumpmaster dropped his next finger. Less then a minute left. The light turned green. The Jumpmaster gestured to the back of the plane. Lazarus pushed off, ran the last 10 steps then threw himself into the sky. He didn't see as the back ramp of the plane raised up almost as soon as he was clear. He didn't see the big jet turn out and head back to friendly territory.
What he did see was the early morning clouds around him and the still slightly dark of dawn approaching. He sailed down through the clouds. Only his breathing his companion. He listened to the altimeter beep. As it hit 2000 feet after almost a minute of free fall he pulled his chute and began to drift down towards what looked like jungle.
Lazarus hit ground, drawing his knife and cutting himself free from his harness. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him come down. He smiled, "Hello Africa...I'm back." He needed to find a safehouse so he could sit out the rest of the night. The rest of the operatives would be infiltrating this same night. All by similar or different means. He might have to try and track them down. The best place to do that, would be the central town, Bekalo. But that'd be something for later. For now, he needed to find a cave or a hut to deck down for abit.
Lazarus crept into the jungle, as silent as he could. The hunt would begin soon enough.
Good morning/evening Operative,
Let me be the first to express your countries deepest thanks for taking on this mission. Alot of people are dying and alot of people starving because of the instabilities in Africa. This little country in the center of the continent is like that little bit of tinder you put in a fire. It looks innocent enough, but with how Africa always has some little war going on somewhere, that little bit of tinder could cause the whole thing to go up in flames.
Several differant countries, some members of NATO, some not so, have all agreed that something needs to be done. But while the country is embroiled in it's little internal conflict, we can't justify sending in a large force to calm it all down. We do that the NATO council gets on our asses like herpes. So the idea is to send in several solo operatives. Men and women who have been out of the military for awhile, but who still retain the skills they learned there.
There will be several operatives in the country. You are not required to search them out and work with them, but many hands make short work.
You are being given your choice of melee weapon and pistol to take in with you. As this operation is not funded officially by the government of your country we cannot send you in with a full kit. Don't worry, your primary target is a gun runner and black marketeer. He's flooded the country with old and new weapons. If nothing else, you can pick a weapon up off a dead body somewhere. Some of them are going to be pieces of crap, but who knows there might be a gem or ten somewhere in there. The pistol, your melee weapon and your infiltration method are the only things we can spring for.
We want to be clear, if you should die during this operation, we don't know you, we can't afford to let it out that the governments in on this sent a wetwork team into the country. So be careful.
Once your primary missions are complete, we can provide extraction. But only once that occurs. Be careful soldier. We're counting on you. Good luck.
Lazarus read the letter over once more then folded it up and slipped it into the front pocket of the jacket he wore. He looked over at the jump master of the plane he sat in. The man nodded, holding up three fingers. Lazarus got to his feet carefully, checking his parachute harness carefully. One of the other Canadian soldiers in the plane coming over to get a second eye on him. The second soldier gave him a thumbs up. Laz nodded. He carefully strapped on his kit. The trench knife went to the small of his back, where he could reach back safely and grab it. The pistol strapped to his right thigh in a quick draw holster. He rolled his shoulders. Preparing for the jump to come. He had chosen to go in by HALO jump. It'd be quiet, quick and easy, something he had learned back with The Pats. And something he did quite often with JTF2.
The seconds ticked by. The Jumpmaster paced by him heading to the back ramp of the C-17 Globemaster. The massive plane had been picked because of it's long distance staying power. They needed it to get him in. It was a long way from any friendly landing strip. So it was strange that just 10 soldiers, a jump master, and Lazarus had been there, along with the flight crew. But the Canadian Government had though it best.
The jumpmaster pulled the lever to open the back ramp. He pointed at Lazarus then gestured to a position close to the inner edge of the ramp. Laz stepped forward, and got into a runner's starting stance. He waited. Watching the red ligth out of the corner of his eye. The jumpmaster had a hand in the air, two finger showing. He lowered one finger and Lazarus tensed. The Jumpmaster dropped his next finger. Less then a minute left. The light turned green. The Jumpmaster gestured to the back of the plane. Lazarus pushed off, ran the last 10 steps then threw himself into the sky. He didn't see as the back ramp of the plane raised up almost as soon as he was clear. He didn't see the big jet turn out and head back to friendly territory.
What he did see was the early morning clouds around him and the still slightly dark of dawn approaching. He sailed down through the clouds. Only his breathing his companion. He listened to the altimeter beep. As it hit 2000 feet after almost a minute of free fall he pulled his chute and began to drift down towards what looked like jungle.
Lazarus hit ground, drawing his knife and cutting himself free from his harness. He looked around to make sure no one had seen him come down. He smiled, "Hello Africa...I'm back." He needed to find a safehouse so he could sit out the rest of the night. The rest of the operatives would be infiltrating this same night. All by similar or different means. He might have to try and track them down. The best place to do that, would be the central town, Bekalo. But that'd be something for later. For now, he needed to find a cave or a hut to deck down for abit.
Lazarus crept into the jungle, as silent as he could. The hunt would begin soon enough.
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