FourtyTwo

The Conflict

Turning the corner, Arran moved quickly, watching the entrance enough to understand what was going on. He saw one of the men at the front look over, sharpening his Machete.
"Hey! Get the fuck away from here!" He yelled loudly, as Arran chuckled, lowering his pistol.
"You seem really....fucking positive." Arran said, taking the Tomahawk out, as the man walked over, the Machete in hand. Bad move. Arran had planned, was a few steps ahead, and already swung out, faster and quicker than the man could respond, throwing him on the ground before he managed to get the Machete close. A swipe of the front of his neck put him on the ground, as he spat on him, Arran aware he had picked his moment well. Nobody in the street. Nobody would care. Putting the bloody tomhawk in it's clip on his side, he took his P226 back to hand, and walked in, past the empty reception. Another militant moved around, and recieved a point blank shot to the head, as another froze on the spot, Arran smirking in a twisted and crazed way.
"You have people captive, a bird tells me. Drop your club, show me the keys, slide them on the floor, and turn around. DO IT!" He yelled, his voice booming, as the noise of a distant click of an weapon being cocked could be heard. The man dropped his club, and looked not at Arran, but into the distance. He knew what it meant, and as did Arran., A man running could be heard, Arran half turning as he did what he did. He fired two shots into the man's abdomen, as he almost made contact with the Shiv, and brought him down, before Arran put another 9mm round into the man's foot.
"STOP FUCKING PLAYING GAMES, YOU HEAR? NOW!" He said, walking up closer, grabbing the man by the throat as the keys dropped, and another bullet entered the militant. Three down. He didn't care. He was sufficiently moving, no point taking prisoners in this place. It was lawless enough as it was- these bastards weren't helping. He kept himself to the wall, as yelling could be heard, in native language. It sounded questioning. He stuck to the corridor, moving skillfully and tactically, aware he had two clips in reserve. He wanted to keep them as long as possible- bullets meant lives, and in short, if he wanted to take Scorpion's, he knew it would take more than 36 from his two spare magazines. Any spare would do. He heard the voice get closer, barely peeking the corner as the shots rang out. Automatic. Bugger. He let the man fire uncontrollably, clearly untrained. These were some poorly trained militants, barely allowed guns and yet this one did and fired it like a lunatic. Turning the corner, Arran shot a clean pair to the man's temple, throwing him down, as he moved forwards, the P226 that he clutched conflident in his hands, as he saw the cells. Four men wasn't enough, but he could tell that this was it. Two men in particular, in the two holding cells. He unlocked both before picking up the weapon on the floor, and a spare magazine. It wasn't a lot, but it would do- the G3A2 being poorly maintained, but it's sighting and solid stock holding stern. It would be a good weapon, if more fire was needed. A Colt Revolver sat on the men's buckle, with some equipment in a small bag, as well as a $50 dollar bill and a small golden wedding ring.
"So, who's King Cobra is this?" Arran asked, looking at the two men, the short shaven man who didn't look very tanned being what the Scot expected to find. The other one looked far too tanned, just somewhat not suiting.
"I assume yours, mercenary. Name is Arran Mackenzie. The name Scorpion I believe rings a bell. Let's get the fuck out of here." He simply said, pointing the King Cobra to the unknown Canadian man before flipping the whole pistol and holding it by the barrel, offering the handle to the Canadian, and nodding to the body.
"He has the rest of your shit. I'll check outside." Arran simply added, aiming the G3, as he pushed out from the cells, keeping a head back as a pistol rang out. Blindfiring the weapon, he heard a groan, as the man came down with a shot to the leg, before Arran popped him with a 7.62 mm round to the chest, pinning him as he led the way out of the lobby, and out the building, aware that noise had been made. Arran may have been rusty, but he was decisive. He knew what he did best, and the memories from his SBS days had stayed in his mind, flowing as the liquid adrenaline had kicked off from the first Tomahawk swing to the last bullet he had fired,

---

Magnus watched onward. He decided to take a different approach. He had sat quietly in the lobby. His hunch that there were more had paid off. Watching the bar momentarily had been good- this guy didn't know about tailing and blending in. A white person like him should have been spotted from a mile out. But the way that Magnus acted, and almost blended with the local population like a native of sorts, suggested otherwise. He had seen this mercenary kill a drunk, and he was coming to the same hotel. Classic. He heard the room number, and followed, waiting about twenty minutes, before making his move.

He knocked on the door. He didn't search every room, of course not. But he spotted something off about this whole batch. He remembered faces. These all were so soon and so quick, and Arran's file had told him everything. The kidnap of what looked like either a Canadian or an American mercenary, and the Scot who looked like he had been rusty was connected. This was another. And he wanted to find out what he wanted. If they were here for Scorpion...well, he had to figure out a way of fixing something that would make sure that this time, it wouldn't be a wasted effort to fuel the war. As much as he liked money, he liked the locals. He cared for some, understood poverty and why he was a direct contradiction. In the short term, the factions were money, resources and a means to an end. In the long term, chances like these mercenaries turning up on his door would be a bad call if he refused to act. He knew the intentions, and in the end, he knew that to make sure that they at least had a hope in hell of perhaps finding leads, he'd need to put them through.
"You seem to be pretty good at murdering people. And fairly new around here, like about two other individuals I saw today, who happen to come out of the blue- not something you see often, you understand...especially when the Scorpion is involved. Name's Magnus. Can we talk?" He simply asked, looking into Edward in a particular way, aware that while he was a total stranger, he wanted to at least figure something out here, watching Edward's moves. He wouldn't try anything, worst that could happen, he'd shut the door. But he knew what action to take in what context, and right now, perhaps getting a better understanding of the scale from someone who wasn't Arran would be better. Getting things moving, perhaps explaining what he did.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

"On you get." Jan said simply in his English, as Amy clambered on, as he looked to the others.
"No time to waste. Daylight is coming. Hang on tight, Staff Sergeant." Jan added, as the fireteam set up on the column formation, Malinka bursting over a hedge with Alec, as they regrouped and headed south-west, around the town. It looked hellish, but they had other matters to get to. Tearing over the rugged terrain, the lack of contacts was surprising, but not entirely crazy to comprehend. They'd shoveled themselves into the town now, but the surrounding area, not so much. They'd lost some momentum, and Jan wasn't entirely sure why. It meant there wasn't much out here, in the farms and hedgerowed fields.
"We've got an OPFOR AMW outpost, potentially set up as a counter to airborne drops like the mechs that TF Aegis has. No doubt it could create a hailstorm to eliminate it, in the short term, plus we have a chance to get some local intel." He added, looking back, as they stormed onto a dirt road, hitting almost 90mph as they stormed over the landscape.
"Get magazines ready. Two minutes till we hit Site Tango." Jan added, as the noise of distant gunfire and artillery roared on, the whole contingent moving at a blistering pace.

They stopped by a small stream, the Hover Quads parked up as the team disembarked, Jan keeping his eyes open as he knew that they were now in an area that OPFOR could easily be trying to consolidate.
"Let's move out. Not try and raise too much attention. Yet." Jan added, as he jumped off his vehicle, MSBS raised as the others followed suit, the vehicles dropping to the ground as the engines were cut. The outpost was located within a village on a slight hilltop that jutted over the plain, staffed by about 20 "Green Men" and a few VDV soldiers, with technically advanced 9M112 Kamtchatka Anti-Mech and Anti-Tank weaponry, capable of firing over almost seven kilometers, though a newer model was fielded by the CSTO forces.
"Bogdanowicz, you and Majakowska, you go with Amy- you can take them and set up a different angle of fire and approach- . Rest of you, with me. We'll try and use Alec's recon to map out the hill, before shock and aweing them in the village itself, using the wood as cover from their counter-reconnaissance and line of sight to get close. These Wilks can move fast, so we want to be up in the village before they know we are here, I assume they have the launchers located on the northern side- so if we hit their flank, they will not expect us." He added, moving through on the side of the stream, in the bushes, as he kept his weapon held high, moving fast. Leaping up, he hopschotched onto a birch tree, barely grabbing a hold onto a thick part of the branches, the tree evidently shaking as he adjusted his HUD to focus on the camp, before coming down in front of the team, moving with a running pace as the team advanced out of the stream, and through a small forest of the birches, before clambering up the hill.

The odd patrol down the main tarmac road broke the silence, but they were going quietly for now, Jan letting the team do what it needed to. Amy could try and lay down a different line of fire where needed- but overall, they were pushing up significantly, in the early dawn. The village itself wasn't very clustered, being mainly red brick and modernized, the green entrance sign close by a ruined and rusted out bus parked by a small hut. The buildings in the village were partly destroyed, some crumbling and some just left empty, vacated. It was harrowing. This was Poland now. A few other cars, left behind, debris and casings on the floor joined it. Two civilian bodies.

Taking cover by a wide tree, Jan looked to Alec.
"You might want to grapple up this thing. Amy, you in position? We're ready to strike, I paint about five hostiles right in front of us, the launchers are in the northern side located by the Church." Jan said, as he readied himself up, then adding after her response, when it came.
"We're engaging. Light them up!" He simply spoke, as the words were followed by a decisive action. The five man patrol within the close side of the village was quickly clipped, their concentration and spread a little slacking for a "Green Men" team, who were supposed to be perhaps a little more refined. He could never tell the difference between genuine Polish rebels and those bastards- but it was something distincitve. Zooming the Holographic optic, the balaclava man came into sight and dropped like a stone, as Jan moved forwards, moving to a rusted out bus, moving to it's flank and shooting another man emerging from a building.
"Contacts, all ahead! Lay it down!" Jan added, as his squad, with their mixed MSBS rifles configured in their modular roles, laid down fire on the men that were now responding, the shock of an attack so close unexpected, but the resistance sharp. Jan ducked, as accurate fire pelted his position, chambering a new magazine as he cocked the silenced Polish rifle, and boosting upward, over the bus, before then moving again, the fireteam of his bounding as he knew Alec was covering them well, the team pushing in as Jan took out another hostile close by, seemingly a little differently camoflaged. Sinisterly so.
"Watch out, these VDV soldiers have got Exoskeletons! They're fucking well armored, double tap!" Jan barked, aware that whatever this kit was on the new wave of responders, it was taking twice as much rounds to take them out- they must have been wearing some fairly advanced kit, as opposed to the Green Men who were armed purely as rebels. He kept down behind a brick wall, the building he took cover behind a small two-storey house like most in this small village were, being moreover the size of a hamlet in Western terms. It wasn't signiificant, but the position on this hilltop over the plain was important, and they had to clear it. They had to make do without Orbital Strikes for now- even though Jan could have easily bunged a bright IR strobe over the village with the exoskeleton's sheer strength and called out a Tungsten shot to blast half the village to pieces and make this a lot easier, he knew there were other priorities right now- and perhaps not making too loud a noise to the other forces in the area would work better. While gunshots echoed and were loud as hell, the sight of a giant orange flare from the sky followed by a colossal bang would be too much and bring QRFs running. And that was never a good thing. Peeking around, he quickly moved back, as Duda sprayed in covering fire as he made it to Jan's location, taking out two of the men that almost had Jan in their sights, the noise of Russian on the other end just reinforcing the facts laid in Jan's mind. This was seriously fucking shady. Looking over, he lept up onto the roof of the house, flanking around as Duda followed up, moving with the liquid pace and agility that the exoskeletons that the Poles wore could give. The small Polish village was alight.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

That quote too- but I thought that following Alec/Amy's drop, having the recon team find out what is going on in movements across Lublin from the drones/observation, and then taking out the AMW site could be a simple operation. They'll likely find some intel, via an officer- so that will also follow. I am just a bit busy, so my post may need to wait a few mins.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

Going to get a post up, as I remember that recon's activities should end by tonight or so- so I'll get to work on having them all kinda light up a Anti-Mech outpost, and that can pave the way.

Team Scimitar (an Over-the-Top Military RP)

Neat- good to see.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

Edited the CS slightly, in the look/feel of the Wilk.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

Good, it is good. I'm amazed at this RP flying like it is.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Natalie smiled, as she rose, looking to Victor, as he floated upside down. She boosted toward him, guiding herself correctly. plonking into him, as she reached out and kissed him on the lips.
"Controls are on your right hand, that analog stick you will eventually figure out. You're a piece of cloth on the breeze...and yet at the same time, move your arms and legs inside. You are a Goliath....and you wonder why I opted for this." She said, staying close, as they slowly floated, Natalie easing back as she let loose, thundering upwards, as she cackled, the blue hot gas flame rising her up, as she floated over the sunset water, her lover and her in the air like leaves on the wind, as it blew on her naked skin, just reminding her life could be no better. Natalie hung like a specter above the water, just occupying the air like it was something she controlled, the two enormous masses surrounding the two giants holding them aloft. She was engaged to a 7"11 sized Mohican who was the World's Strongest Man, who also happened to be a mercenary that could kill like no other human being he had met. They were both rich, they both had stable jobs, they had good holiday, but most of all, they had fun equipment. And it was that which reminded her that they were Athena and Ares, like a Godess and God looking over all creation and protecting it. She herself was beautiful, and could test her strength against Victor's, and in this perfect moment, everything felt right. Like she was invincible. She eased back, and let one more go, the thunder roaring as she groaned. It was strong, too strong against the only partly inflated helium suit.

And this was the moment the butt of Natalie's matt black helium suit got a hole blasted open the size of a golf ball, the small tear becoming a blasted hole.

---

Meanwhile...
0700 Hours
Somewhere in Northern Iran

Things had been busy for Markus and his partner, Eric. They'd been redeployed rapidly, in the wake of the company's biggest earners taking a holiday. At least they earned while they recouperated, and it made the company more cash, more cash to reinvest. And themselves. The Demi-Juggernaut suit was a cut-piece armor, a lighter but less armored version of what the current combat testing of the suits were seeing, yet did the job. It gave a mobility, a movement that perhaps they didn't, suiting a SF operator better. And Markus found it to fit well. An FN F2000 sat in his hands, with a Aimpoint CompM4 optic and a silencer attached, with a EGLM module fitted on the weapon. An AT4 sat on his back, whilst his Glock 17 sat in a holster on his hip. A carbon-plated KM2000 Combat Knife, used by the Bundshwehr sat in a mount on his hip, a beautifully crafted piece of German engineering from point to blade. He wore a AOR2 camoflage, a green digital on his armor, with his boots to his reinforced ballistic mask being a signifying that he was fully equiped with the Demi Juggernaut suit like this. Being not too bulky, but not as armored compared to a regular Juggernaut's kit. The German patch sat on his shoulder, as did the weapon of choice for today, against his shoulder.

It was a cloudy morning, and they'd been smuggled over the Azerbaijani/Iranian border to get to work on a follow up contract. There was a Russian arms dealer, that allegedly had links to a fixer named Konstantin. He'd heard enough stories about the man- and that this was one of many loose ends. His Arms Dealer friend above was gone, the Russian Dealer arrested by the Spetsnaz GRU. Arrested, not taken down. He was a goner, most inteligence sources guessed. Now it was a collection of loose ends, following Wakhan. The intel had been good, but one or two people hadn't caught the memo. There was a data drive that the CIA among other intelligence agencies wanted, and the global unity was waning on dealing with this problem. The Russians were agitated, the Chinese too against the overall inefficiency of it all. This could fix a few of those problems.

Moving through the pine forest, they moved with a subtlety and neat movement towards the mansion. It seemed fairly nice- a coastal construction right on the Caspian Sea, at the base of a cliff- with the pine forest ending and a small decline, a sandy dirt embankment of about 10 feet that led to one of the fence's outer perimeters started.
"Security is around 30 men strong. That is a lot, but expect them to be well armed. AK-12s, maybe even Western weapons. HVT is expendable, remember that- we want a data drive, and to back it up via the online network. After that, we get away from here, as quick as possible." Markus said in his strong Bavarian accent, his visor up, as he moved to a tree, before a significant dip, their position at the edge of the pines overlooking the mansion as good a view as any. The Caspian Sea simmered beautifully, sun reflecting in the distance. from this position a nice sight. But not their priority.
"Fence isn't electrified, I think." He said, chuckling, as he looked over, a look between the two just shared in a particular way.
"Then...well, we'll try and breach the side entrance, kill anyone inside, get to work with the data and poof! We're gone, ja?" Markus said, cocking the F2000, as he readied himself, looking over the rest of the building he could just make out. They had a good opportunity here, on this cloudy morning in Iran. And this time, he took the iniative, running forwards and sliding down the sandy embankment, down to the base of the gate where he already had began setting down the acid spray, to cut the fence's links and get inside, to go do what they had to. The security detail wasn't outside, perhaps mainly at the back. So they had a good chance. This guy's modernist villa was beautiful, but it wasn't going to remain bullet free forever. So long as they took their time, Markus knew there was a good payday, and they'd cap one more affilate motherfucker.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

I just edited...ahhhh....well, I dunno.

EDIT: No clash. We are saved.

Year 2058 (Near-Future Military Scifi RP, maybe with mechs)

I may need to seriously edit my post- which should be ready in about thirty mins if I think I need to do what I need to do. Sorry if it means re-reading quite a lot of it- other recon people, the Poles are coming!