FourtyTwo
cosmiccowgirl
Auragreedia
SonnetNSunbeam
Fading Memory
Fetzen
Candy Cane Elf
Not a SayanCarl snarled snatching up the C6 from where he had set it. He set the gun against his hip and began let rip. The GMPG growling as he fired into the mass of men approaching them. The big rounds cutting into them. Carl growled, "This is going to be tense. I like our chances of surviving, but I'm still a little nervous." He mowed down a line of AQ soldiers with a roar of the GMPG. Carl kept firing keeping head down and heads exploding too. He wasn't about to let them die out here atleast not without a fight. He kept firing even as the AQ fighters crept further and further up the hill. He unhooked a grenade pulled the pin and under handed it down the incline, watching it bounce, skip and thump to a stop at the feet of a man with an RPG. He went flying moments later. Carl chuckled deeply as he watched the man flip through the air. Carl kept firing, he didn't want to stop until they were clear.
He turned as the SEALs broke for cover. He purposefully put himself between them and the fire coming at them. He stumbled with a growl of pain as a rifle round clipped his sprained knee. He snarled, pushing himself back up, "Ross, where's our CAS?" He fired until the C6 clicked empty, he didn't have time to reload it so he grabbed his 249 up and began to fire with that. "On my mark run like fuck, Ditch everything but your M249." Carl turned and in a limping run began to trail behind Ross. Turned at the hip to fire back behind them.
Then the bombs hit. And the shockwave caught him, lifted him and carried him forward. He hit the ground and rolled a short distance before coming to a stop. He coughed as the ringing in his ears grew louder. He groaned and watched Ross pass him, "Sure...just gimme a little...I'll...be good..." He got to his feet. Gritting his teeth. That sprained leg of his really pulling. He proceeded up the hill following after Ross, "This...has been an amazing operation."
---------
Victor sat on a bench in the Mess hall. He knew Natalie would be in the Arsenal at the moment, getting ready for that op of hers. He intended to follow her, but he didn't want to be there when she left. He wanted to show he trusted her, that he knew she could take care of herself. That didn't mean he wouldn't be suiting up minutes after she left and jumping aboard a C130 to follow her.
For now he sat in the mess, a bottle of Pepsi at hand. Listening to the other grunts of the PMC shooting the shit and bragging here and there. There were stories about the shit they had gotten into while in this or that army. One man telling a story about a massive fire fight his platoon had gotten into, one hundred Taliban fighters had taken up the defense of an ammo cache in a small town somewhere in Helmand, and his platoon of sixteen was out on patrol. They had moved into the town which had earlier that week been pinned as safe. His platoon had walked in, expecting no worries at all. But had found hell waiting for them. Their leap frog retreat barely got them out with only one man wounded. They had called in CAS to help clear the town.
Victor smiled a little listening to that story. Sounded like something that happened to the grunts a lot.
The conversation moved on, another story being retold. After that one was done, one of the grunts looked over and spotted Victor. He smiled, “Hey Victor, big guy, didn’t you used to be Tier One?” Victor toyed with the cap of his drink, “Sure. Long time ago.” The grunts seemed to see where this was going. Another man asking, “So you got some stories don’t you from that time huh?” Victor nodded, “Sure, none that are all that interesting. Tier One isn’t all that different from other special forces.” The grunts began to get insistent, “Come on man there has to be something. You almost never talk about your past come on. Give us something.”
Victor hrmed, “Alright fine.” He thought for a time. Going silent again, the grunts watching him wondering what he was going to do or say. After abit Victor began, “You guys remember Bin Laden right?” The grunts nodded and one of them even said, “Naw no way you did that Boss. It was all confirmed by FBI and CIA bro.” Victor grinned, “No I didn’t do it. I did something else.” He began his story…
____________
“Third floor…ladies underwear…” Victor looked on as Seal Team Six began to drop their intelligence off in the tent. Everything from hard drives, to binders and folders filled with information taken from the Pakistani complex where they had killed none other than Osama Bin Laden himself. They weren’t Cowboys, but damn did they act it sometimes. They’d just come from a life or death situation, and come out with the code word of Geronimo.
As Victor watched a suited CIA agent stepped up beside him. The black haired man watched the Seals celebrating. And another CIA agent verifying the body. The man beside Victor said softly, “They got the main target. That’s what we’re going to tell the world. But they’re going to need you now Master Sergeant. They didn’t demo the chopper correctly, there’s still debris left. And there is a lot of people that know who are still in Pakistan.” Victor pushed off the pole he’d been leaning on, and nodded, “Insert me then. As usual this will be Blacker then Black right?” The CIA agent nodded.
Victor went to the private little building the army and CIA had set up for him. Inside it was every weapon, and equipment piece he could ask for. Even prototype weapons and items that weren’t available yet to standard forces. Victor suited up in dappled, grey, black and dark red stealth fatigues. A combat harness with an integrated combat vest. A silenced pistol and silenced KRISS SMG were slotted into place. As well as a pair of reinforced tomahawks that had become his iconic weapons a while ago. Lastly were clips and magazines, as well as a variety of explosives and an interesting little thing in glass vials called hyperacid for dealing with the chopper and getting rid of anything that might come up. As the Seals wrapped up, Victor jumped aboard a chopper and headed for Pakistan.
They had put him down in a field outside the city. The Abbottabad area was still on high alert. People were worried, scared, a lot of people are angry. But no one expected a ghost to be picking his way through the city. Even at top speed Victor had to traverse part of the city to get to the warehouse where they were keeping the last of the information from the complex, the bodies of the adults, and the helicopter. His job, to liquidate as much as he could of all that. A the moment he loped low and easy through the streets, the night his friend tonight. The dappled clothing he wore broke up his large frame, making it hard to see him. Lots of people said all black was better to use during night operations. But that just turned you into a big black blob in the night. The dark colors in a random pattern made it harder to see him.
Victor reached the warehouse. And of course, found it heavily guarded. Pakistani Army and what looked like AQ and Talibani soldiers. Victor darted across the spottily lit ground around the warehouse, and hopped the fence. His silenced pistol is soon in his hand. Edging through the grounds carefully. He had to make this quiet and clean. He had care blanche to leave a body count, as long as no one could track it back to the States or anyone else. So it’s no surprise that when he came on patrols he put them down quietly, hiding the bodies and continuing on. The lower cracks of his pistol drowned out by the sound of people talking, and the sound of boxes being moved around or soldiers yelling orders. He cleaned out a third of the soldiers to make it easier on him. All in complete and utter silence. They wouldn’t know anyone is there for a while yet. Victor, for such a big guy, slipped quietly into the main warehouse. Gaurds, engineers, technicians are everywhere. He wasn’t going to have to be careful. Set the charges and explosives carefully so they weren’t spotted immediately.
He ghosted along the side of the building, taking out several soldiers as he went. He didn’t want a dead body found this close. So he instead clamped his large hands over their mouth and nose and locked an arm across their neck, choking them out quickly and silently. A knocked out body is less suspicious. And can be passed off as fatigue. With several of the gaurds and soldiers placed in hard to see areas he finally made it to the evidence. He placed a few thermite grenades among the piles of paper, hard drives, binders and folders. He made his way over to the bodies next. Placing more Thermite grenades among them as well. He felt no remorse burning them. There’d be a cover up over it. Or people would be too centered on Osama more likely.
Lastly was the helicopter. He placed several incendiary devices and a few of those hyperacid capsules on the partially demolished helicopter. He meant to make sure the stealthy technology and any way of IDing it back to the Joint Forces is gone. As he placed the last device he had to duck into a shadow as a guard came patrolling by. The man looked right at Victor in the belly of the damaged chopper. But saw nothing concrete. As the man walked on Victor decided that was enough. He made his way out.
As he neared the outer wall. He reached into a pocket, and with a depression of a button and the pull of a trigger. All of the devices went off simultaneously. Fires roared, small shaped charges denotated, and the acid burned through metal and plastic. He could hear shouts and cries of surprise and pain as soldiers and support personnel scattered.
Victor leapt off the wall and disappeared into the city.
------------
The Grunts stared at Victor in astonishment. One of them dropping his class of juice on the table. The whole mess was quiet, as they had all tuned in on Victor as he told his story. Victor took a sip of his Pepsi, he didn’t smile he didn’t show anything. He just nodded, “That good enough of a story for you?”
The soldiers in front of him nodded slowly. Victor grunted then got up, “I have somewhere to be. Anyone who is registered for back up ops on Natalie’s operation, get suited up. I’ll be in the Armory getting kitted up.” He left the room to silence.
He turned as the SEALs broke for cover. He purposefully put himself between them and the fire coming at them. He stumbled with a growl of pain as a rifle round clipped his sprained knee. He snarled, pushing himself back up, "Ross, where's our CAS?" He fired until the C6 clicked empty, he didn't have time to reload it so he grabbed his 249 up and began to fire with that. "On my mark run like fuck, Ditch everything but your M249." Carl turned and in a limping run began to trail behind Ross. Turned at the hip to fire back behind them.
Then the bombs hit. And the shockwave caught him, lifted him and carried him forward. He hit the ground and rolled a short distance before coming to a stop. He coughed as the ringing in his ears grew louder. He groaned and watched Ross pass him, "Sure...just gimme a little...I'll...be good..." He got to his feet. Gritting his teeth. That sprained leg of his really pulling. He proceeded up the hill following after Ross, "This...has been an amazing operation."
---------
Victor sat on a bench in the Mess hall. He knew Natalie would be in the Arsenal at the moment, getting ready for that op of hers. He intended to follow her, but he didn't want to be there when she left. He wanted to show he trusted her, that he knew she could take care of herself. That didn't mean he wouldn't be suiting up minutes after she left and jumping aboard a C130 to follow her.
For now he sat in the mess, a bottle of Pepsi at hand. Listening to the other grunts of the PMC shooting the shit and bragging here and there. There were stories about the shit they had gotten into while in this or that army. One man telling a story about a massive fire fight his platoon had gotten into, one hundred Taliban fighters had taken up the defense of an ammo cache in a small town somewhere in Helmand, and his platoon of sixteen was out on patrol. They had moved into the town which had earlier that week been pinned as safe. His platoon had walked in, expecting no worries at all. But had found hell waiting for them. Their leap frog retreat barely got them out with only one man wounded. They had called in CAS to help clear the town.
Victor smiled a little listening to that story. Sounded like something that happened to the grunts a lot.
The conversation moved on, another story being retold. After that one was done, one of the grunts looked over and spotted Victor. He smiled, “Hey Victor, big guy, didn’t you used to be Tier One?” Victor toyed with the cap of his drink, “Sure. Long time ago.” The grunts seemed to see where this was going. Another man asking, “So you got some stories don’t you from that time huh?” Victor nodded, “Sure, none that are all that interesting. Tier One isn’t all that different from other special forces.” The grunts began to get insistent, “Come on man there has to be something. You almost never talk about your past come on. Give us something.”
Victor hrmed, “Alright fine.” He thought for a time. Going silent again, the grunts watching him wondering what he was going to do or say. After abit Victor began, “You guys remember Bin Laden right?” The grunts nodded and one of them even said, “Naw no way you did that Boss. It was all confirmed by FBI and CIA bro.” Victor grinned, “No I didn’t do it. I did something else.” He began his story…
____________
“Third floor…ladies underwear…” Victor looked on as Seal Team Six began to drop their intelligence off in the tent. Everything from hard drives, to binders and folders filled with information taken from the Pakistani complex where they had killed none other than Osama Bin Laden himself. They weren’t Cowboys, but damn did they act it sometimes. They’d just come from a life or death situation, and come out with the code word of Geronimo.
As Victor watched a suited CIA agent stepped up beside him. The black haired man watched the Seals celebrating. And another CIA agent verifying the body. The man beside Victor said softly, “They got the main target. That’s what we’re going to tell the world. But they’re going to need you now Master Sergeant. They didn’t demo the chopper correctly, there’s still debris left. And there is a lot of people that know who are still in Pakistan.” Victor pushed off the pole he’d been leaning on, and nodded, “Insert me then. As usual this will be Blacker then Black right?” The CIA agent nodded.
Victor went to the private little building the army and CIA had set up for him. Inside it was every weapon, and equipment piece he could ask for. Even prototype weapons and items that weren’t available yet to standard forces. Victor suited up in dappled, grey, black and dark red stealth fatigues. A combat harness with an integrated combat vest. A silenced pistol and silenced KRISS SMG were slotted into place. As well as a pair of reinforced tomahawks that had become his iconic weapons a while ago. Lastly were clips and magazines, as well as a variety of explosives and an interesting little thing in glass vials called hyperacid for dealing with the chopper and getting rid of anything that might come up. As the Seals wrapped up, Victor jumped aboard a chopper and headed for Pakistan.
They had put him down in a field outside the city. The Abbottabad area was still on high alert. People were worried, scared, a lot of people are angry. But no one expected a ghost to be picking his way through the city. Even at top speed Victor had to traverse part of the city to get to the warehouse where they were keeping the last of the information from the complex, the bodies of the adults, and the helicopter. His job, to liquidate as much as he could of all that. A the moment he loped low and easy through the streets, the night his friend tonight. The dappled clothing he wore broke up his large frame, making it hard to see him. Lots of people said all black was better to use during night operations. But that just turned you into a big black blob in the night. The dark colors in a random pattern made it harder to see him.
Victor reached the warehouse. And of course, found it heavily guarded. Pakistani Army and what looked like AQ and Talibani soldiers. Victor darted across the spottily lit ground around the warehouse, and hopped the fence. His silenced pistol is soon in his hand. Edging through the grounds carefully. He had to make this quiet and clean. He had care blanche to leave a body count, as long as no one could track it back to the States or anyone else. So it’s no surprise that when he came on patrols he put them down quietly, hiding the bodies and continuing on. The lower cracks of his pistol drowned out by the sound of people talking, and the sound of boxes being moved around or soldiers yelling orders. He cleaned out a third of the soldiers to make it easier on him. All in complete and utter silence. They wouldn’t know anyone is there for a while yet. Victor, for such a big guy, slipped quietly into the main warehouse. Gaurds, engineers, technicians are everywhere. He wasn’t going to have to be careful. Set the charges and explosives carefully so they weren’t spotted immediately.
He ghosted along the side of the building, taking out several soldiers as he went. He didn’t want a dead body found this close. So he instead clamped his large hands over their mouth and nose and locked an arm across their neck, choking them out quickly and silently. A knocked out body is less suspicious. And can be passed off as fatigue. With several of the gaurds and soldiers placed in hard to see areas he finally made it to the evidence. He placed a few thermite grenades among the piles of paper, hard drives, binders and folders. He made his way over to the bodies next. Placing more Thermite grenades among them as well. He felt no remorse burning them. There’d be a cover up over it. Or people would be too centered on Osama more likely.
Lastly was the helicopter. He placed several incendiary devices and a few of those hyperacid capsules on the partially demolished helicopter. He meant to make sure the stealthy technology and any way of IDing it back to the Joint Forces is gone. As he placed the last device he had to duck into a shadow as a guard came patrolling by. The man looked right at Victor in the belly of the damaged chopper. But saw nothing concrete. As the man walked on Victor decided that was enough. He made his way out.
As he neared the outer wall. He reached into a pocket, and with a depression of a button and the pull of a trigger. All of the devices went off simultaneously. Fires roared, small shaped charges denotated, and the acid burned through metal and plastic. He could hear shouts and cries of surprise and pain as soldiers and support personnel scattered.
Victor leapt off the wall and disappeared into the city.
------------
The Grunts stared at Victor in astonishment. One of them dropping his class of juice on the table. The whole mess was quiet, as they had all tuned in on Victor as he told his story. Victor took a sip of his Pepsi, he didn’t smile he didn’t show anything. He just nodded, “That good enough of a story for you?”
The soldiers in front of him nodded slowly. Victor grunted then got up, “I have somewhere to be. Anyone who is registered for back up ops on Natalie’s operation, get suited up. I’ll be in the Armory getting kitted up.” He left the room to silence.