FourtyTwo

Running with the Wolves (kingkonrad and Enalais)

No problems- it's fine. I mean, better late than never, I know the feeling.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Markus was moving with a certain pace, smirking as he heard what he said.
"Maybe. But I'd invest my money a little more carefully myself. I think they're bound to have some toys. With money, comes a total lack of financial responsibility." He said, looking over, as they moved past the outhouse, a small summer shed, as they bounded towards the mansion.
"Contacts, rooftop. Two guards. Time your shot- you get the left, I have the right." He added, aware that the trees had covered the breach, as well as the fact that they had moved carefully through cover. As Markus waited on Eric, he followed up the shot, the FN F200 splintering the man's forehead, as they moved forwards, Markus leading the way as their crossed the garden, and towards the side of the villa, moving past a pool.
"25 to 28 security guards left. Not too bad." He added, looking over, as he put his visor down, pulling a breaching charge off his back.
"I hear a few movers inside. They're suspicious. Silencers off." Markus said, screwing it off the end of his rifle, as he then looked to the Canadian, smirking, as he moved around and slapped the flat charge onto the door, pulling the trigger as he moved back, looking over to him, as he checked the rifle.
"Knock knock, motherfuckers!" He said cockily, as the door then erupted.

It was an inward explosion, as it blew inside, throwing down one man as Markus followed in, covering left as he took out two men. They'd been rallied- even with the silenced rounds, the occupant of this house was paranoid, even though this was something that had an unwarrented response. The vague silenced shots could have easily been birdcalls. They bodies hadn't been found. But this paranoia was a problem. A problem to take on. It was a few clicks of the trigger, and two men in the kitchen were dead, as a bullet or two grazed Markus, as they charged inwards, clearing the kitchen out in a few seconds. They pushed forwards, through the huge lounge, as he found cover behind a wall, a small security detailing rifling the walls with AK12 and G36 fire. They had Western weaponry, and this wasn't something common in the hands of this militia- this was a well armed private mercenary group, and somehow, Markus knew that this was a limited scope. The wider group was armed with mainly Russian kit, and this was just what a detail would have to blend in. But it was well aimed, and these suits were proving their worth, as Markus moved around, feeling the kick of one 5.45 round as he took out a guard, taking him down as he was thrown to his feet.
"Through the lounge! Shit, he has a big TV!" Markus said, calling it out as he found cover behind a couch, out of the fire as he reloaded, then switching to the 40mm as he shot over the sofa. The 40mm round detonated on the far wall, blowing a hole in the plasterboard, blowing it into pieces, as he then accurately fired on a man thrown by the grenade, letting Eric push through the rest of the lounge, a big half a storey-separated room.

Thieves Inc.

I remember this! I think. I'm in- I had a very interesting, "Decoy" kind of character, in a way. While I understand there is a first come first serve, if you want a second-in-command, I'd love to take the role.

Whirlwind said
Interested in a position as some sort of distraction/distractor, and the one that 'takes care' of any witnesses or possible witnesses if her distracting fails.

Well, damn. Okay then, I'll have a explosives specialist, for vaults, safes, and various other things.

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

As they fell, Svetlana was throwing herself, aware that whatever the fuck they were doing, this better be worth it. She turned, aware that Spectre had rammed into her like a truck- but she'd already been aiming outwards, and wasn't half suprised. The freefall was crazy- she had no parachute on her back, and she was hurling to the earth at 120mph, with a man that also didn't have a parachute clambering onto her. She realesed, looking down.
"At least I was aiming right!" She yelled, screaming with joy as she slammed into the crash mat, at almost the same time as Spectre.

The impact was hard, and it was mainly there for her, over Spectre. He'd been thrown off, as Iceman came down, covering with the grenade launcher, aware that this was too much anarchy.
"We go, quickly." She said, looking to him, as she got off the mat, dusting herself off as she checked the Groza, moving through the streets as the three moved out, to the boat. They'd have to take Iceman- this was nothing short of anarchic. Spectre had been too noisy, too plucky and not to her liking. He was good, but needed to perhaps change his methods. Iceman too- he'd get himself killed at this rate. It was meant to be a fast and quick operation. She had been waiting on Spectre, and now, the body count was high. Lucky this was Mumbai- but she knew that this company was not one that they'd strike again so quickly. Following through, they made it to the docks, where she got into the boat, almost throwing it under, with her weight, as she turned the engine on.
"In, in!" She added, as the noise of distant sirens and cars coming could show that things were going to hell. They needed to get offshore, quickly.

And that they did.
"Blackbird Flight, this is Black Eagle. We have the package for our operator, we've got the boat's Fulton rigged. Suck us in." She added, as the balloon in the middle of the boat inflated, and a huge line went up, the helium balloon lifting it upwards as a set of IR lights on the cable flashed up on the pilot's night vision. He was flying low, but for good reason. The whole line caught, Svetlana looking to the two.
"Hang the fuck on." She added, right in the nick of time as the boat caught air, the whole thing lifted off the waves as she looked back, at the skyline of Mumbai, in the distance. The boat was pulled in, as she kept a firm grip on the boat's straps, not wanting to fall out, as the plane's rear door opened up. The boat was scooped in through the cable, and went inside, the small Zodiac containing all three operators. She had a full debrief to make, especially with a certain operator.

---

The C17 left with the team aboard, this one being Imran, Antoine, Dom and Howard. The vehicle of choice was the VAB, a lightweight APC that was more of an APC than truck, though it's wheeled nature put it between an MRAP and a LAV. The .50 cal RCWS station changed that- and was the main reason it wasn't. It was French in design, a former Cold-War relic that still looked modern today. It was fast, it was well armed, and a surplus, painted in black- perhaps suiting it well on streets, where it would move quickly and efficiently. It was a 4x4 vehicle, and accommodated a team like Imran's well. Dom had just enough headroom, and for the four of them, sitting around it, they had been doing a good job.
"Plan is simple, as I will now update. Antoine here will insert before us, ghosting into the compound and doing what she pleases. I assume that the destruction of the mechanized suits and ALL forces there will be on the agenda- and she'll scare them for us before we get there, maybe do some damage of her own. We'll follow in with the VAB, right from Santiago Airport. No stoppages." He simply added, looking over, smiling.
"All good fun." He simply said, as he then walked up to the VAB and opened it up, Imran switching on the radio within the vehicle, his MP3 hooked up, playing some Lower than Atlantis, leaning back as he nodded his head against the cold steel of the C17's cargo bay.

---

On the ground, the way that Howard had floored it through was epic, as Imran readied his Mk48, already moving to the back as he opened the door up. He switched his perspective to Antoine, to see her feed. And was almost horrified, though somehow, pleased.
"Antoine...you never cease to amaze. We'll keep an eye on you, try not to set you off with any rounds. Keep that thing alive, we'll examine it when we get back." He added, as they stopped, and the rear ramp opened up, as Imran tapped his shoulder, as his visor locked shut.
"Go get some." He said, smirking, as he brought up his weapon, following the heavy as they left the VAB under fire, as he used him as cover before sliding behind a scrapped out Mercedes, as Domineco opened up. The M242 Autocannon needed stationary fire, or else it would hit a tree somewhere in Kansas, though it tore through enemies and turned them to paste. And the big Italian was going to make a mess of anything he saw, Imran was sure of it. Firing from his cover, as the scrapyard turned to anarchy, he lept up onto and over a bus, the extended reach of the exoskeleton giving him the abillity to at least gain some height, before moving behind a stacked VW Beetle, firing from the cover on two enemies moving down an alley on the side of Domineco. Howard's fifty lit up the area down the main alley of movement within the scrapyard, whilst the large multi-storeyed warehouse, a modular design that looked as if Artemis had just dropped it here as a local HQ of sorts, storing equipment and those Mechanized Suits. It was good that Antoine had dealt with the problem- she had one already, after sneaking into the compound earlier than they did. He knew that Svetlana and Antoine, as well as Howard were powerhouses, the elite trio that he always knew that would be the most exceptional of his operators. He didn't want that bias, but he knew that for any occasion, one of those three would solve your problem. That was based off his opinion of their skill- and it would need some proof to change, on Spectre, Iceman and Dom. The latter was good, but combined with Svetlana, he wanted to see their operational capability. He'd never throw away a good operator. The former two were new, and would soon see if they'd earn that recognition. That he could turn to them and rely on them to deal with problems. Right now, they weren't anything, not till they showed their worth.

From his cover, Imran lept down, moving with Domineco, the heavy taking shots from everywhere as Imran covered his back, when he moved out, around corners and angles that he wouldn't instantly recognize. Switching to the MGL, he shot three rounds into the base of a car stack, then watching as the whole thing tipped. A M1151 with a .50 on it, that fired heavily on Domineco, suddenly was engulfed, as well as two infantry before another, as the whole thing collapsed over.
"Like a domino", he thought to himself, not saying it on comms as he left the shock to everyone else, wasting another gun truck, a technical with a SPG-9 on it with a repeated set of shots that blew it over and onto it's side, before the SPG was loaded. Ducking down, as a volley of fire came from a team moving out with RPK-74 SAWs and AK-12s, he let Domineco handle this, and let Howard push up with the vehicle, as the assault was well underway. They were approaching the warehouse, something that looked like it had been built as a steel structure that was built to piece together quickly, housing equipment and various other kit. They'd need to leave no trace of this- and Imran had a good idea of how they'd handle explosives here. Using their own to get rid of it would be fine.

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

They'll basically extract under duress, following a very tense extraction via the dropship squadron, with Alec/Amy along for the ride to Warsaw, gear up there, and then move to Bialystok, perhaps via the dropships with a HALO jump of sorts, shall we say.

Running with the Wolves (kingkonrad and Enalais)

Also, and I know this- it's basically a miracle to ever stand and move straight after such a coma, it's a big plot device and we know it. In reality of course, it takes even more weeks and months to establish movement, physiotherapy, but basically, he now has established control back over his body, yet memory-wise, knows almost next to nothing of the operation, and has fragments of his identity left.

Running with the Wolves (kingkonrad and Enalais)

Scott tried, feeling a slight wriggle. It was alien, but he was getting the hang of moving, as he then managed to get into it, and get fully articulated, as if he'd established something. First, his fingers, as he moved them slightly, then moving them and clenching them, as he sat up in the bed, moving on his rear. He rubbed his eyes, then moving his feet, and his toes, which had something left in them. It was like someone plugged in the nerve for the first time.
"Jesus Christ. Four years?" He asked to himself, and almost to Alexis, as suddenly, the blare quickly through him.
"Oh shit." He simply said, not knowing why or what he was thinking it to. He couldn't connect what was going on. But he had said it. The drill put the fear of God into him, as he looked over, then gulping, not knowing wholly why this had to happen. What was going on? Was this regular? Of course it wasn't. For a first time, his brain had activated in some sort of meaningful analysis that wasn't visible. He had been in a coma for years, and someone was coming for him now, from the moment he awoke. This couldn't be good.
"I can move, it's fine." He said, aware that this was alarmingly fast. In the space of half an hour, from his wake up to this, he had control. He felt as if while his brain was buzzed, his body was fine and under some control.

---

The gunmen had shot the nurse practictioner, in a fit of anger, as the blare could be heard, killing an innocent.
"Fuck! We search each room, manually." The leader said, the smoking barrel of the AKM cooling off, as two stayed behind, pointing guns at the lobby, as they spread out, making sure that they could see everything and anything. They weren't highly trained, but they knew what they were doing. In fact, they had sprung into action on a simple order. They had no idea that this moment had been coming for a while. This man wasn't meant to awake. He was meant to stay among the dead, back in Basra. The two men moved forwards, threatening any medical staff they saw, as they began their search of each and every room. They knew it would take longer now, but it was going to be done, one way or another. Kick a door in, find them, hunt them. That was how they moved, finding nothing on the ground floor, as they paced up a set of stairs.

---

He moved himself slightly, looking to Alexis.
"Let me walk." Scott asked, gulping, looking at his feet, and then back at her.
"Please. I don't want to die sitting." He said, still not knowing why he was saying this. Were they here for him? He didn't know why, he just said, out of an inner fear of sorts. That this was the end of his days, that something he had kept in his head in Basra now echoed back to now. He didn't understand it in entirety, as he reminded himself. But he didn't want to be here, if someone came. And the shot that could be very, very distantly heard had rang in his head. AKM, 7.62x39mm round, rimless. He didn't know how. What the fuck did he know about things like that? He was definitely US Army, but what branch? Something about Basra was when US Forces still were on the ground, but what the hell had he been doing there that got him like this? And why now? He knew she would say no, but he acted anyway, swinging off the bed, unhooking the IV and oxygen lines, a sharp pain in his wrist as he yanked it out, and stepped onto the cold floor, bare. He put weight and felt it hold, fighting it like was drunk, stepping as he heard doors rattle and clatter.
"They're hunting someone." He said, looking to her, as what he next said almost came about from an instinct. Like he wasn't thinking. It was doing. A drill, a proceedure, something you couldn't deactivate.
"Get under the bed. I don't want you to stand here when they come. It must be for me...there's no chance it's anyone else." He said, moving his hands, as he walked towards the corner of the door, on the side that the hinge was on. He grabbed a pencil, sitting on a clipboard, sharpened adequately. This would do fine. He stood behind the door's opening arch, breathing heavily, as he leaned in, looking back.
"Please. You need to understand." He said simply, gulping, aware that now, he was running off what his instincts ran. Not his brain. He was doing this because it was the only way he knew that he could stop them from doing harm to any more people, or himself. He could only guess- that they were hunting him, and while this was a Veteran's Hospital, just as she mentioned, it couldn't mean that there was anyone else they were looking for. It had to be him. Somehow, something valuable was in his conk, and while he didn't know, these men did. And for Alexis's sake at least, he wasn't going to let them kill her or do any harm. The noise of two quiet tones of Arabic reinforced all. This was it. They were close, and soon, they'd be coming right for him. Sure, he could be damn right delusional, but he knew to himself that it was a red alarm, and that Arabic, while fuzzy in his translation, seemed very clear. They were searching rooms, and soon, they'd try and kick in the locked door, and then shoot the lock. And that was when Scott knew he'd have to act.

Lunar Colony Role Play

Still here! Post it up!

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

Bialystok. Jan's family is from there, it's make for an interesting backdrop (plus the lakes that are in Mazuria are amazing). I'd like them to re-equip with Wilk 1A3s, if that is possible- kinda set up their optical cloaking abillities on their exoskeletons.

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

I assume all recon units are falling back? ie, are being redeployed from around Lublin to elsewhere, via the dropships?