(RP is sadly on hiatus till Silverwind comes back. I can't really run it without his character sadly- and though the pace was about to just get going, there's nothing I can really do. I'll post up my last- though this RP is not dead, it's simply on hold till he comes back or I figure out what to do next.)
Neil looked over, watching as Zhenya found the canisters, buried in the dirt, watching as he reported it. It wasn't the main deal, this was far to insginficant, but Neil somehow knew it had to be something of some significance, that this was far more portable and deployable than what they were truly hunting.
"Shit, nice find." Neil simply said, as he covered his back with the AUG, already looking to find any enemy that might come in or flank them. As Zhenya continued on, this time to Neil, he shook his head, as he led the way out, just not wanting to repeat what Zhenya had just said in his head. But it still echoed somehow. "Maybe I can try it." It was just that, it was too eerie to Neil. It was as if Zhenya was talking with a Russian responsibility to reiterate to the people that had been involved in the orchestration of Grozny He had to respond, he couldn't let it linger. But it made Neil ill in some regards, just to hear that, it just reminded him that foreign policy was a very thin wire and though they were punishing the TIAF for it, that somehow, Neil inferred that Zhenya wanted much worse to happen.
"Not a chance mate. Fuck, we ain't got a clue of what potency that shit has, and let's not remind ourselves of what that stuff does. Look, let's get moving, they're already making a start." Neil said, moving out of the house with a combat pace, weapon high and aimed well, as he led the way through the last third of the courtyard towards the rest of the team's position. They had already gone in, but Neil and Zhenya knew that the least they could do was cover, as the Australian moved into cover behind a clay wall, already scanning for targets on the floor above. No movement gave him an indicator, as he flung himself over, his combat pacing consistent with the AUG as he did what he could to not miss a beat, not miss a corner or a opened door that he hadn't seen before that an enemy could charge from. He knew that Zhenya had his back, but in return, he had to have Zhenya's. The team trusted itself, and that was of most importance after all, since they would get killed if they didn't.
As Scott smashed the door in with his foot, Jan was charging in almost with a finesse and movement that suggested he was moving at a pace of concentration. Raising the shotgun, as he moved through the door and immediately swept right, he found right away one man running straight for the door who was quickly filled with buckshot, Scott now following in and taking a target on his left. He pumped the 870, already finding another target down the room, and the second 12 Gauge round tore the man apart, as Jan knew it was his last shell left that was going into the chamber. But it would do. Jan simply shot at a man further down the large room on his side, burying a wide round into him that knocked him down, but didn't kill him straight away, on account of only some of the buckshot finding it's way to him. Jan went straight back to the strap of his 416, already raising it in replacement as he knew he was empty now, the 3+1 magazine gone, and scanned the large room for anyone else. He put two rounds into the man that he had shot earlier as he moved, looking around for anything else, almost ready to yell the five letter word to let the team know they were done with this room.
Before that even happened, a man got up from behind a collapsed table and tossed a grenade, running rather than shooting as Jan's mind set to doing something about it. In this proximity, even with a plate carrier, none of them would really stand a chance in the open and live to tell about it. He had four seconds from the moment that the man had popped up and was just in mid run, to yell whatever would get himself, Scott and Wendy a chance to not get blown up.
"Out the door, MOVE!" Jan yelled, as he sprayed rounds towards the assailant, only realizing as he turned from the corner of his eye that he had something in his right hand. A canister. Jan didn't care for that right now, he wanted to live. He was furthest from the breach point, and he knew that he had to get around some corner, or something at least. Scott and Wendy would make it, and only now, Jan hoped he would, as his feet moved in a way that he couldn't describe, with such ferocity and madness that only could be seen in Afghanistan. The grenade set down on the floor, roughly a meter down the room, as Jan knew he was almost out of time, diving through towards the doorway where they had breached and he could tell Wendy and Scott were just about to get clear. Jan couldn't do much now, as he felt his body hit the dirt, just hoping that either of them would pull him in to where they were, and out of the way of the shrapnel that would direct itself all over the room now. In almost musing thought, he knew that they were going to have to chase this man, as otherwise, this would be for nothing. In his right hand, he had something much more significant than what Zhenya had described. From what he vaguely could use as a last memory, it was about the size of a small suitcase, but with no indicators of it being what he genuinely didn't want it to be from his findings in Turkey. This was what they were here for.
FourtyTwo Member
STATUS: 10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :) 9 mos ago
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10+ years of an RP idea, finally finished, on 10.10.2025. Goodnight Raven Squad, you were the best, wildest, most silly near future SOF RP that lived on the guild, and you got a worthy send off :)
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Bio
I've RP'd for the best part of over 15 years now here on the Guild, and particularly like military settings, both contemporary, past and near future. I have even dabbled in a little more experimental RPs, as well as created a plethora of 1x1s over my time in the guild. I like creating RPs with a distinct flavour- and often shift between narrative-led RPs to semi-randomised plots. I've been more a GM lately than a player, and don't really lean into fandom- instead, exploring my own universes lifting themes from other source material.
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
My main interests are military-themed, near-future RPs, with a focus on technology. But I'm beginning to push what that RP idea looks like- taking inspiration from lots of media and focussing on the fun, indulgent side of RP, whilst also exploring the lows and emotional side.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/190121-rav…
Raven Squad is a project over seven years in the making, and focusses on a class-based, eccentric yet half-grounded near future special forces team that acts as a response team where you can't send any special forces team in. It's incredibly dumb, incredibly loose, and yet, has delivered some of my favourite plot points in RPG. A brainless action flick a la John Wick and Kingsman meets a complex thriller with a fun left turn in it, Raven has been the culmination of over a decade of loving special forces RPG, gaming influences and other silliness in a package that has provided players with something quite different to a normal military themed RPG. While at an end, this is an RP that is a signature- it's silly as hell, takes itself barely seriously, and is what peak fun military RPG to me should be.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/192916-del…
Delta Hyper is a love letter to Wipeout, F1's Drive to Survive (Netflix) and contemporary Formula One, with influences from solarpunk, cyberpunk, transhumanism and other posthumanist concepts. An RP that follows pilots in their ups and downs, it's a story that hasn't got me playing an actual character, but framing the camera at each pilot (played by others), and presenting it as if it were a documentary. Lifting elements from TTRPG, this is a Racing RPG like no other and no parallel exists- using dice rolls and randomisation, with a stats-driven system to generate race results, rather than actually RPing the races, players experience the fast-paced, dynamic world of anti-gravity racing. This means that come Qualifying and Race, the results are genuinely a surprise to everyone- and based on decisions made through dilemmas and decisions made between races. Friendships, rivalry, the glamour and even a little political undertone play out in 2094, in a colourful, utopian future that focuses on the fight to take first place.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/196931-tac…
Then there's Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex. First use of any set IP as a formal setting, this is an RP that offers a darker mirror to Raven Squad, focussing on the other side of the equation- unlikely heroes in an uncomfortable position. I don't normally do fantasy, but the world, the lore, the feeling of the characters and the ability to write a comedy just was too difficult to pass up. An RP that focuses on a group running away from a variety of threats as wanted mercenary wizards in the middle of a post-revolution, Eastern-Europe adjacent 1990s to present Polavia.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/197399-dis…
Lastly, Dispatch: Heroes of Claremont. This is another IP-adjacent world, albeit drawing on a different setting and a new cast of superheroes. As my "first" proper superhero RP, this combines workplace comedy, a Storyteller-lite system and a fun, diverse, and large cast together in a dynamic, diverse setting.
I'm pretty flexible and try and get back to people on ideas and responses, but sometimes, I may become very busy and it will take some time till I am un-busy. I aim to clear posts within a week!
Most Recent Posts
(Spot the unintended Peter Andre reference..)
(And this is a bit vile at the end, I didn't' describe it too much but basically, Ethanol+Natalie's Intestine= and so on)
Natalie slowly awoke, probably at what most would call a Level 1 out of 5 hangover. Feeling buzzed, but in no way like the alcohol was actually in her system, and that if needed, she could bark orders to about 40 Paras in the back of a An-124 and fire her PKP as effectively as ever, if she was back in the VDV. That type was what it reminded her of, the shit Vodka that the Russian Army would sometimes toss the troops to keep morale up, and though it was incredibly weak, every last drop was gone by the time anyone had come into contact with it. None the less, Natalie heard pull himself up and down, Natalie herself still topless as she sat up in bed, just neatening her hair
"Morning Victor. Already at work I see." Natalie said, moving up the bed as she knew he would take definite notice, towards where he held. She lay down on her front, her rear not as pronounced as her breasts, but definitely definitive, looking at Victor as he came up. It felt to Natalie that with Victor, the room was quite small, when in reality, this was a huge master suite for any guest of this hotel. Natalie knew however, nothing less would satisfy them. Only the best.
"If we were back in Miami, I'd probably go for a beach run right now, do 5km then maybe leap straight into some of what you're doing, all without getting dressed of course. But then again, I suppose the police are a little more enforcing of anti-nudist laws over here, and there ARE people up at this time of day over here, right?" Natalie said, in almost a teasing way, aware that even she wasn't that crazy. She didn't entirely care who saw her breasts, just that it was likely she would be turned into a running photoshoot for every dirty Belgian magazine on a long run over here, and that didn't bode well to keep her head down. She was Victor Kantaario's girlfriend, soon to be fiance, and Natalie in some ways liked the idea that she was some sort of mysterious girl, some woman that wasn't really known that well to most. Of course, there was what there was on the surface, but for the moment, Natalie preferred to stay out of the spotlight, knowing full well that this was Victor's show, and that the 7"11 Mohawk was going to the WSM just as determined as he was as Brute, nailing down all hell on enemy.
Natalie clambered out, still naked herself, watching on as she found her bra, somewhere on the floor, bending over in particular as her stomach almost shook the floor with a rumble. Between her breasts, she looked at Victor, the two knowing full well what this was.
"Shit. Fuck, I might glaze the toilet, fuck, fuck..." Natalie said, dropping the bra, as she ran, straight to the ensuite, and locked herself in, with almost a split-second determination. For the next minute or two, what was almost an ungodly noise came from inside, as Natalie realized that her rear end, combined with Alcohol, was always a concequence that she had to remember about. From Victor's point of view, all he could hear was the noise of gas and grunting, with no description needed to flesh out what was going on with Natalie.
(And this is a bit vile at the end, I didn't' describe it too much but basically, Ethanol+Natalie's Intestine= and so on)
Natalie slowly awoke, probably at what most would call a Level 1 out of 5 hangover. Feeling buzzed, but in no way like the alcohol was actually in her system, and that if needed, she could bark orders to about 40 Paras in the back of a An-124 and fire her PKP as effectively as ever, if she was back in the VDV. That type was what it reminded her of, the shit Vodka that the Russian Army would sometimes toss the troops to keep morale up, and though it was incredibly weak, every last drop was gone by the time anyone had come into contact with it. None the less, Natalie heard pull himself up and down, Natalie herself still topless as she sat up in bed, just neatening her hair
"Morning Victor. Already at work I see." Natalie said, moving up the bed as she knew he would take definite notice, towards where he held. She lay down on her front, her rear not as pronounced as her breasts, but definitely definitive, looking at Victor as he came up. It felt to Natalie that with Victor, the room was quite small, when in reality, this was a huge master suite for any guest of this hotel. Natalie knew however, nothing less would satisfy them. Only the best.
"If we were back in Miami, I'd probably go for a beach run right now, do 5km then maybe leap straight into some of what you're doing, all without getting dressed of course. But then again, I suppose the police are a little more enforcing of anti-nudist laws over here, and there ARE people up at this time of day over here, right?" Natalie said, in almost a teasing way, aware that even she wasn't that crazy. She didn't entirely care who saw her breasts, just that it was likely she would be turned into a running photoshoot for every dirty Belgian magazine on a long run over here, and that didn't bode well to keep her head down. She was Victor Kantaario's girlfriend, soon to be fiance, and Natalie in some ways liked the idea that she was some sort of mysterious girl, some woman that wasn't really known that well to most. Of course, there was what there was on the surface, but for the moment, Natalie preferred to stay out of the spotlight, knowing full well that this was Victor's show, and that the 7"11 Mohawk was going to the WSM just as determined as he was as Brute, nailing down all hell on enemy.
Natalie clambered out, still naked herself, watching on as she found her bra, somewhere on the floor, bending over in particular as her stomach almost shook the floor with a rumble. Between her breasts, she looked at Victor, the two knowing full well what this was.
"Shit. Fuck, I might glaze the toilet, fuck, fuck..." Natalie said, dropping the bra, as she ran, straight to the ensuite, and locked herself in, with almost a split-second determination. For the next minute or two, what was almost an ungodly noise came from inside, as Natalie realized that her rear end, combined with Alcohol, was always a concequence that she had to remember about. From Victor's point of view, all he could hear was the noise of gas and grunting, with no description needed to flesh out what was going on with Natalie.
(Not the most creative post.)
Pavel smiled, looking over at the door he sat on his bed, the next hour or two becoming a blur as he watched some local TV, and generally, lounged around a little. He enjoyed relaxing, just resting and thinking, and in some regard, it was what he enjoyed. Ariana was pretty to him, to say the least.
When the rain cleared, it Pavel was already out of his room, aware that it was probably a good time now to get going. The sunset was just passing the tops of metropolitan Prague, and Pavel wanted to get going now while the clear lasted. Walking to Ariana's door, he knocked, hoping she knew who it was. Adjusting his hat a little, he waited till she had the door open, so that they could get going. From when he had met her, a few weeks back when she was assigned to the team, Pavel had found her a funny companion, a friend for sure, and someone pleasant indeed. Pavel's mind was blurred however, on if to go to the next step. In some ways, his mind was already doing it right now, making the choice. Over tonight, Pavel just wanted to be able to just get it out of him, what he wanted with her. Just a simple, professional friendship, or a relationship. He just hoped he'd come to some choice, he really did, as he saw her open the door.
"Hey Ariana. You all set?" Pavel asked, looking into her eyes as she looked into his, as he checked his wallet for a moment, before slipping it back into his pocket.
Pavel smiled, looking over at the door he sat on his bed, the next hour or two becoming a blur as he watched some local TV, and generally, lounged around a little. He enjoyed relaxing, just resting and thinking, and in some regard, it was what he enjoyed. Ariana was pretty to him, to say the least.
When the rain cleared, it Pavel was already out of his room, aware that it was probably a good time now to get going. The sunset was just passing the tops of metropolitan Prague, and Pavel wanted to get going now while the clear lasted. Walking to Ariana's door, he knocked, hoping she knew who it was. Adjusting his hat a little, he waited till she had the door open, so that they could get going. From when he had met her, a few weeks back when she was assigned to the team, Pavel had found her a funny companion, a friend for sure, and someone pleasant indeed. Pavel's mind was blurred however, on if to go to the next step. In some ways, his mind was already doing it right now, making the choice. Over tonight, Pavel just wanted to be able to just get it out of him, what he wanted with her. Just a simple, professional friendship, or a relationship. He just hoped he'd come to some choice, he really did, as he saw her open the door.
"Hey Ariana. You all set?" Pavel asked, looking into her eyes as she looked into his, as he checked his wallet for a moment, before slipping it back into his pocket.
"Haha, Victor. "I have to work for it". From the way you handled today, you ruined some people. You proved why you're the strongest man on this earth, Victor. And this...is a pretty small portion of food." Natalie said, as the waiter walked away, Natalie already cutting up her steak as she got eating away.
"Oh, and you know my past. The Spetsnaz wasn't all you know, team operations. Sometimes it was me, my silenced PKP, two (Spetsnaz) shovels and a fucking uniform that made me look like some fat overbloated Babushka against 200 Chechens that wanted the first blood of any Russian in the area. I made people disappear, of course. But I stayed out of the FSB politics, I'm too...vulgar, a political asset. So when a Chechen leader that has been a little too feisty in his catch for Russian lives strikes, I made sure that he found the blunt or sharpened end of my shovel. Or some local warlord in Turkmenistan, or wherever I was needed. I suppose we're made for each other, perhaps it was inevitable we would have met one day, on the wrong end of each others' foreign policy. But still, I bet you, we would still be fucking by the end of the day. Just making good sweet love in some ditch, with all our gear to one side and my breasts in yours." Natalie said to him, quietening significantly down towards last two thirds.
"Damn, this is good food. I do need more of this, plus some drink you know."
Natalie chuckled, going a little side to side. It was rare to see Natalie towards tipsy. But the mixture of Vodka-on-the-rocks and Absynthe towards the end had really hit hard, and the giant Russian's system, as good as it was at dissipating alcohol, was faltering a little. She had drunk a lot, probably more than Victor she thought to herself. Natalie felt Victor pin him, the 7"11 Mohican overpowering her with a tender kiss, as Natalie sunk her tongue into his mouth, her stature shorter than his, but somehow, still corresponding quite well. They were both to most, "fucking huge", in almost every proportion. Natalie viewed it as a perk, not a disadvantage. Being like this was fine. Looking down on the mortals. Her routine, her lifestyle, her husband and her actions reminded her at every corner that it was the case. She was a Queen, a Godess and along with Victor in battle, the face of death. Snuggling close, as Victor picked her up, Natalie aware that Victor was just about able to do so, she looked up at him, tucking her legs in as they went through the doorway, and to the bed.
Coming down, Natalie felt herself be set down, aware that even though she could probably barely lift Victor herself if it was absolutely needed, even vice versa it must have been tough.
"Sounds good to me Victor. With the wolves and the bears. You're my big wolf tonight, Victor. Come on." She mentioned, giving a motion to "Come Here" as Victor did precisely that, Natalie's dress coming undone already. Victor's hand did the rest, the bra that had held so much restraint to her overpowering titties now helpless. Natalie's two large melons sloshed forward, their size simply mesmerizing. They weren't hideously impractical, but to call them moderated was an understatement. Natalie yanked him down, feeling him slam down into her body, looking right into his face as she smiled, Natalie's left hand holding her left breast wide, her face in gleeful and awesome delight, as her underwear slipped down.
"Tuck in,,," Natalie said, as the heat between the two exploded, and from outside, what sounded like ear-shattering grunts and yells could be heard, as the two Gods went at it, the two intertwined.
(Meh, fade to blackish.)
"Oh, and you know my past. The Spetsnaz wasn't all you know, team operations. Sometimes it was me, my silenced PKP, two (Spetsnaz) shovels and a fucking uniform that made me look like some fat overbloated Babushka against 200 Chechens that wanted the first blood of any Russian in the area. I made people disappear, of course. But I stayed out of the FSB politics, I'm too...vulgar, a political asset. So when a Chechen leader that has been a little too feisty in his catch for Russian lives strikes, I made sure that he found the blunt or sharpened end of my shovel. Or some local warlord in Turkmenistan, or wherever I was needed. I suppose we're made for each other, perhaps it was inevitable we would have met one day, on the wrong end of each others' foreign policy. But still, I bet you, we would still be fucking by the end of the day. Just making good sweet love in some ditch, with all our gear to one side and my breasts in yours." Natalie said to him, quietening significantly down towards last two thirds.
"Damn, this is good food. I do need more of this, plus some drink you know."
Natalie chuckled, going a little side to side. It was rare to see Natalie towards tipsy. But the mixture of Vodka-on-the-rocks and Absynthe towards the end had really hit hard, and the giant Russian's system, as good as it was at dissipating alcohol, was faltering a little. She had drunk a lot, probably more than Victor she thought to herself. Natalie felt Victor pin him, the 7"11 Mohican overpowering her with a tender kiss, as Natalie sunk her tongue into his mouth, her stature shorter than his, but somehow, still corresponding quite well. They were both to most, "fucking huge", in almost every proportion. Natalie viewed it as a perk, not a disadvantage. Being like this was fine. Looking down on the mortals. Her routine, her lifestyle, her husband and her actions reminded her at every corner that it was the case. She was a Queen, a Godess and along with Victor in battle, the face of death. Snuggling close, as Victor picked her up, Natalie aware that Victor was just about able to do so, she looked up at him, tucking her legs in as they went through the doorway, and to the bed.
Coming down, Natalie felt herself be set down, aware that even though she could probably barely lift Victor herself if it was absolutely needed, even vice versa it must have been tough.
"Sounds good to me Victor. With the wolves and the bears. You're my big wolf tonight, Victor. Come on." She mentioned, giving a motion to "Come Here" as Victor did precisely that, Natalie's dress coming undone already. Victor's hand did the rest, the bra that had held so much restraint to her overpowering titties now helpless. Natalie's two large melons sloshed forward, their size simply mesmerizing. They weren't hideously impractical, but to call them moderated was an understatement. Natalie yanked him down, feeling him slam down into her body, looking right into his face as she smiled, Natalie's left hand holding her left breast wide, her face in gleeful and awesome delight, as her underwear slipped down.
"Tuck in,,," Natalie said, as the heat between the two exploded, and from outside, what sounded like ear-shattering grunts and yells could be heard, as the two Gods went at it, the two intertwined.
(Meh, fade to blackish.)
"Sure thing, Victor. With the money I made, it's no big deal." Natalie said, following him closely as she smiled onwards, feeling confident and tall among the crowd. The odd picture from a phone was taken, of this extraordinary pair, as they simply walked towards their table in the restaurant, Natalie's pure size undeniable. She knew that Victor knew two large curves she had tonight decided to suppress well, and two on her rear that most enemies had found was their ending. None the less, it was probably better to not blow too many people's minds in here again, by just adjusting her dress and her bra a little. She knew that females on this earth were lusted and desired, and herself in particular would know that if she didn't stock up as much in muscle that she would end up in magazines, would be a typical dumb bitch, posing for the camera to advertise some new bra or some new panties. She was just glad to know that not one man would dare touch her in the wrong way, and she had never been used for sex alone. For now, Natalie thought, Victor was the only man that really knew what got her going, and vice versa. And the fact of the matter was, that like Victor, her life was very, very different to what a normal "mortal" viewed it as, Natalie thought to herself. She didn't have an easy life as the WSM's boyfriend and companion. She was his Amazon to his Warrior, her Bear to his Brute. They were beyond any recognition to anyone that dared even plausibly think that was what they did for a living.
Looking around, as her wide rear came down on the seat, Natalie was already quick to look at the menu, beginning a conversation with Victor after a small lull.
"I haven't visited your place, over in the US. From what you say, it must be beautiful, like Siberia but warmer and with more spiritual culture. Then again, you need to see St Petersburg. We have a club culture there, believe me. The men do Coke all the time and the women are sluts, so I kinda come in quite well when I go out with my sister. Shit, I haven't seen her in two months now...but the music, the atmosphere, it's wonderful. " Natalie said, thinking back to Catherine, and her dad. He was strong, built like a truck when he was in his prime from the stories Natalie heard from him- but he was just some washed up drunk now, in some care home. Natalie took care of him none the less, and sent Catherine some money if she was ever short. She had gone through a couple abusive relationships a few years ago, when she had just begun University- Natalie's intervention and breasts had convinced the offenders to lay off, and unlike anything else, Catherine had never heard back from them. In some ways, Natalie knew that she was gifted, lucky, and with many things that women would kill for. It was why she wanted to at least do good now, and she knew full well that a man that appreciated her wiles, like Victor, was the best type of boyfriend, and maybe husband. And for her day job, she flaunted around in a near-invincible suit of armor and a minigun, killing terrorists whilst getting paid good sums of money, whilst also being able to..have a little fun, of course. It wasn't like a video game, where those bosses were evil and schemed and had weak points, with grizzled faces and impracticalies. For all it mattered, Natalie knew that men could burst in and gun her down, probably being more likely than not. But she knew that herself and Victor were on the right side, and knew that life, at times, was a dream for herself.
"Shit, still makes me think one day Victor, we'll just retire and have a few kids, they'll be taller than you and they'll all be running around and probably not needing to kill people for a living. I mean, unless we get blown up at some point right?" Natalie said, holding his hand on the table as she used her right paw- or at least, what was to her proportional hand, to open up the menu, and quickly find the nicest Steak that they had on the menu at what would be a normally extortionate price, with all the finishings being the cream of the crop. It said it was in a more exorbitant proportion, for more of a challenge. This was a nice restaurant, but even they had to provide significant portions for those who just couldn't do with the normal, and this seemed a little bit...extreme for most. Natalie waited for the waiter to come over, aware that herself, she'd need two. She hadn't eaten properly the day before, and if there was one thing her stomach demanded, was to quench the need for hunger.
Looking around, as her wide rear came down on the seat, Natalie was already quick to look at the menu, beginning a conversation with Victor after a small lull.
"I haven't visited your place, over in the US. From what you say, it must be beautiful, like Siberia but warmer and with more spiritual culture. Then again, you need to see St Petersburg. We have a club culture there, believe me. The men do Coke all the time and the women are sluts, so I kinda come in quite well when I go out with my sister. Shit, I haven't seen her in two months now...but the music, the atmosphere, it's wonderful. " Natalie said, thinking back to Catherine, and her dad. He was strong, built like a truck when he was in his prime from the stories Natalie heard from him- but he was just some washed up drunk now, in some care home. Natalie took care of him none the less, and sent Catherine some money if she was ever short. She had gone through a couple abusive relationships a few years ago, when she had just begun University- Natalie's intervention and breasts had convinced the offenders to lay off, and unlike anything else, Catherine had never heard back from them. In some ways, Natalie knew that she was gifted, lucky, and with many things that women would kill for. It was why she wanted to at least do good now, and she knew full well that a man that appreciated her wiles, like Victor, was the best type of boyfriend, and maybe husband. And for her day job, she flaunted around in a near-invincible suit of armor and a minigun, killing terrorists whilst getting paid good sums of money, whilst also being able to..have a little fun, of course. It wasn't like a video game, where those bosses were evil and schemed and had weak points, with grizzled faces and impracticalies. For all it mattered, Natalie knew that men could burst in and gun her down, probably being more likely than not. But she knew that herself and Victor were on the right side, and knew that life, at times, was a dream for herself.
"Shit, still makes me think one day Victor, we'll just retire and have a few kids, they'll be taller than you and they'll all be running around and probably not needing to kill people for a living. I mean, unless we get blown up at some point right?" Natalie said, holding his hand on the table as she used her right paw- or at least, what was to her proportional hand, to open up the menu, and quickly find the nicest Steak that they had on the menu at what would be a normally extortionate price, with all the finishings being the cream of the crop. It said it was in a more exorbitant proportion, for more of a challenge. This was a nice restaurant, but even they had to provide significant portions for those who just couldn't do with the normal, and this seemed a little bit...extreme for most. Natalie waited for the waiter to come over, aware that herself, she'd need two. She hadn't eaten properly the day before, and if there was one thing her stomach demanded, was to quench the need for hunger.
(Sorry about the lack of my thought process. I really do need to keep up with this.)
Neil looked over, already set as Zhenya had the charge placed. As it went off, blowing the obstacle inside out the way and rupturing the door, Neil charged in, moving on the left as he assessed the situation, with two on the floor from the shrapnel. Five 5.56 bullets quickly slotted the two with clean body shots, whilst a third further down the room, a little further from the blast, attempted to respond. Neil sent four rounds his way, two taking his abdomen and one in the head, knocking him straight to the ground, as time gradually crept back to normal. Looking at Zhenya, the room cleared, they pushed ahead, Zhenya two-shotting an insergent with a rapid burst from the AN-94, reminding Neil why that weapon was so formidable after all. Moving behind, he scanned the area, and going back into the corridor, took one one last insergent who had positioned himself badly, one AK shot slamming into the ceiling as Neil slotted two rounds into his chest.
"Yeah, we're clear. Look around, we're looking for a canister here." Neil said, as he looked over at Zhenya- Neil himself adjusting his helmet and plate carrier, as he put a new magazine into his AUG. Going into the breached room, he couldn't see anything but bodies and a small store of weapons, and going into the next room, nothing neither. Neil had a bad feeling that this wasn't the place- and knew that if Zhenya found nothing too, that they'd be fighting hard to get this.
Meanwhile in the courtyard, Jan ran with his head low, a grenade further in the distance kicking up shrapnel as he slid into cover by an old Volksvagen Golf of sorts. Peeking over, he found two targets, one with a GP-25 strapped to his AK. Jan peeked carefully from his crouching position, and sent a two couples of 5.56 rounds, bullets slamming into the metal of the car and kicking up dust as Scott and Wendy continued the suppression fire, this time pinning them down.
"Okay, Wendy, Scott, on my position! Neil, give me a sit rep on that house!" Jan yelled over comms, having to raise his voice due to the gunfire that was close.
"We're still looking, we'll get your rear once we're done here, out." Neil replied, the noise of 7.62 fire meeting 5.56 rounds was loud as fuck.
Jan himself up, as he looked over at what Scott and Wendy had done, the building at this point riddled with shots and anyone that was there dead.
"Right, they're doing two things. They're all dead, or they've fallen back to regroup. Stay close you two- Neil and Zhenya have got our backs, we sweep out every room and make sure that we get this." Jan simply said, looking at Wendy and Scott, aware of the former's wound in her leg. It had been patched up to a decent extent by Scott, but even still, it was going to need a look at sooner rather than later. Flipping a new PMAG from his plate carrier, Jan dropped the magazine out of his 416 and replaced it, grabbing the falling mag as he then looked back, moving at a combat pace as he kept his weapon raised.
"I really hope that Iraqi team up front held out if we did force them out. Shit, if they're going their way, they won't stand a chance in a sustained firefight. Civies too. Scott, stack up on that door, right side. Wendy, go on his side too, fully automatic with that thing- you take middle, I'll get us the door opened." Jan simply said, as he lowered his 416, pulling out his compacted 870 from his hip- one in particular with the stock sawn-off and a shortened barrel. It was perfect for breaching, but not so much for combat, due to the lack of accuracy it now had thanks to the barrel length. Wedging it into the hinge, aware that they'd have had the sense to probably lock it behind.
"Okay...I'll sweep right, we'll move through the rooms quickly and rapidly. Scott, go for your sidearm- you take point and go left, kick the fucker down. Sarah, make a following sweep, stick close." Jan said, adjusting his Wiley sunglasses, the stubbled Pole in his desertified and dusted PUMA camouflage on his BDU looking prepared. Pulling the trigger on the 870, the hinge blew open, as Jan shoved it into the one closer to the top, shooting another shell as the entire door almost collapsed. Shoving two more rounds into the weapon, as Scott got to work on kicking the now unsupported door down, he knew that this time, that this was it. No ifs, no buts. The faster they got this, the better. And Jan knew that he didn't want another Grozny happening here. That sickened him to death, just that idea in itself. It wasn't going to happen, not on his watch.
"Go go go!" Jan yelled, as the door came down, Jan moving from his position on the left of the door and inside on the right, the compact 870 raised and now prepared to cement pellets into any target it found.
Neil looked over, already set as Zhenya had the charge placed. As it went off, blowing the obstacle inside out the way and rupturing the door, Neil charged in, moving on the left as he assessed the situation, with two on the floor from the shrapnel. Five 5.56 bullets quickly slotted the two with clean body shots, whilst a third further down the room, a little further from the blast, attempted to respond. Neil sent four rounds his way, two taking his abdomen and one in the head, knocking him straight to the ground, as time gradually crept back to normal. Looking at Zhenya, the room cleared, they pushed ahead, Zhenya two-shotting an insergent with a rapid burst from the AN-94, reminding Neil why that weapon was so formidable after all. Moving behind, he scanned the area, and going back into the corridor, took one one last insergent who had positioned himself badly, one AK shot slamming into the ceiling as Neil slotted two rounds into his chest.
"Yeah, we're clear. Look around, we're looking for a canister here." Neil said, as he looked over at Zhenya- Neil himself adjusting his helmet and plate carrier, as he put a new magazine into his AUG. Going into the breached room, he couldn't see anything but bodies and a small store of weapons, and going into the next room, nothing neither. Neil had a bad feeling that this wasn't the place- and knew that if Zhenya found nothing too, that they'd be fighting hard to get this.
Meanwhile in the courtyard, Jan ran with his head low, a grenade further in the distance kicking up shrapnel as he slid into cover by an old Volksvagen Golf of sorts. Peeking over, he found two targets, one with a GP-25 strapped to his AK. Jan peeked carefully from his crouching position, and sent a two couples of 5.56 rounds, bullets slamming into the metal of the car and kicking up dust as Scott and Wendy continued the suppression fire, this time pinning them down.
"Okay, Wendy, Scott, on my position! Neil, give me a sit rep on that house!" Jan yelled over comms, having to raise his voice due to the gunfire that was close.
"We're still looking, we'll get your rear once we're done here, out." Neil replied, the noise of 7.62 fire meeting 5.56 rounds was loud as fuck.
Jan himself up, as he looked over at what Scott and Wendy had done, the building at this point riddled with shots and anyone that was there dead.
"Right, they're doing two things. They're all dead, or they've fallen back to regroup. Stay close you two- Neil and Zhenya have got our backs, we sweep out every room and make sure that we get this." Jan simply said, looking at Wendy and Scott, aware of the former's wound in her leg. It had been patched up to a decent extent by Scott, but even still, it was going to need a look at sooner rather than later. Flipping a new PMAG from his plate carrier, Jan dropped the magazine out of his 416 and replaced it, grabbing the falling mag as he then looked back, moving at a combat pace as he kept his weapon raised.
"I really hope that Iraqi team up front held out if we did force them out. Shit, if they're going their way, they won't stand a chance in a sustained firefight. Civies too. Scott, stack up on that door, right side. Wendy, go on his side too, fully automatic with that thing- you take middle, I'll get us the door opened." Jan simply said, as he lowered his 416, pulling out his compacted 870 from his hip- one in particular with the stock sawn-off and a shortened barrel. It was perfect for breaching, but not so much for combat, due to the lack of accuracy it now had thanks to the barrel length. Wedging it into the hinge, aware that they'd have had the sense to probably lock it behind.
"Okay...I'll sweep right, we'll move through the rooms quickly and rapidly. Scott, go for your sidearm- you take point and go left, kick the fucker down. Sarah, make a following sweep, stick close." Jan said, adjusting his Wiley sunglasses, the stubbled Pole in his desertified and dusted PUMA camouflage on his BDU looking prepared. Pulling the trigger on the 870, the hinge blew open, as Jan shoved it into the one closer to the top, shooting another shell as the entire door almost collapsed. Shoving two more rounds into the weapon, as Scott got to work on kicking the now unsupported door down, he knew that this time, that this was it. No ifs, no buts. The faster they got this, the better. And Jan knew that he didn't want another Grozny happening here. That sickened him to death, just that idea in itself. It wasn't going to happen, not on his watch.
"Go go go!" Jan yelled, as the door came down, Jan moving from his position on the left of the door and inside on the right, the compact 870 raised and now prepared to cement pellets into any target it found.
(You've gotten Arma 2? Sweet dude- out of interest, do you play Wasteland a lot, or moreover the Domination or DayZ sort of things? I play Arma 3 mostly- I really like it. )
Natalie looked at him enticingly, taking his arm as she knew the gentleman inside Victor did.
"If you're suggesting we give the people of this city a demonstration of why we have the best sex life, above any of those fucking Kardashians or any fucking playboy, it's tempting. But I'd save your big snake for later. This morning was just a starter. Remember that time on the balloon? Well...I mean, if I had it, I'd get it setup in some field, and we'd go and bang above Brussels Victor. I wonder...you think there's any company that would take any amount of money to take a pair of giants on a balloon tour of Brussels at night, for them to clamber up?" Natalie said, walking arm in arm with him as she adjusted her black dress. Her bra kept her breasts low, but if she felt like it, she could easily at any moment, have it so that the breasts pushed the dress up in a fashion that would have made it clear, that the large-breasted Franco-Russian girlfriend of Victor Kantaario was with reason, packing the pair for a man that outscaled any other. Maybe later, just to get Victor's rush on.
"I don't reckon so. But we'll figure something out tonight. Something that will blow our minds." Natalie whispered in his ear, a smile on her face, as they walked in.
Walking into the mall, Natalie looked around, looking for the restaurant, hand in hand.
"You did good today though. I know I missed you on your training, but I made us a good amount of money extra, in addition to when you win this year my sweetie. It had nothing to do with sinking a ship and that selfie, I promise." Natalie said quietly to him, as she looked around, aware that the two of them were being peered at. Adjusting her dress a little, her high heels clicking on the tiles and bringing her to about 7"3, she seemed quite to scale with Victor.
"That the one there?" Natalie asked, pointing over towards a chic looking restaurant, which seemed quite small, and tucked out the way- but by no means, was exactly low-standards. It looked like the best of the best in this place, and felt almost sure it was what Victor had mentioned. They had plenty more to discuss over dinner- and she felt hungry. Double portions would probably cut it- she knew Victor had other ideas, but herself, she had to pig a little. After the breakfast, something a little more elegant, and then restarting her physical training tomorrow evening for another two hours whilst Victor was finalizing himself for any later WSM events on the last few days would probably burn and make up for the day's feasting that Natalie went on.
Natalie looked at him enticingly, taking his arm as she knew the gentleman inside Victor did.
"If you're suggesting we give the people of this city a demonstration of why we have the best sex life, above any of those fucking Kardashians or any fucking playboy, it's tempting. But I'd save your big snake for later. This morning was just a starter. Remember that time on the balloon? Well...I mean, if I had it, I'd get it setup in some field, and we'd go and bang above Brussels Victor. I wonder...you think there's any company that would take any amount of money to take a pair of giants on a balloon tour of Brussels at night, for them to clamber up?" Natalie said, walking arm in arm with him as she adjusted her black dress. Her bra kept her breasts low, but if she felt like it, she could easily at any moment, have it so that the breasts pushed the dress up in a fashion that would have made it clear, that the large-breasted Franco-Russian girlfriend of Victor Kantaario was with reason, packing the pair for a man that outscaled any other. Maybe later, just to get Victor's rush on.
"I don't reckon so. But we'll figure something out tonight. Something that will blow our minds." Natalie whispered in his ear, a smile on her face, as they walked in.
Walking into the mall, Natalie looked around, looking for the restaurant, hand in hand.
"You did good today though. I know I missed you on your training, but I made us a good amount of money extra, in addition to when you win this year my sweetie. It had nothing to do with sinking a ship and that selfie, I promise." Natalie said quietly to him, as she looked around, aware that the two of them were being peered at. Adjusting her dress a little, her high heels clicking on the tiles and bringing her to about 7"3, she seemed quite to scale with Victor.
"That the one there?" Natalie asked, pointing over towards a chic looking restaurant, which seemed quite small, and tucked out the way- but by no means, was exactly low-standards. It looked like the best of the best in this place, and felt almost sure it was what Victor had mentioned. They had plenty more to discuss over dinner- and she felt hungry. Double portions would probably cut it- she knew Victor had other ideas, but herself, she had to pig a little. After the breakfast, something a little more elegant, and then restarting her physical training tomorrow evening for another two hours whilst Victor was finalizing himself for any later WSM events on the last few days would probably burn and make up for the day's feasting that Natalie went on.
Liam looked over, shifting up, aware he had to break the silence.
"Shit, I'm really looking forward to getting a drink when I get home." Liam simply said, leaning back into his seat as he slowed down for a puddle, the spray kicking up as Liam accelerated hard through the muddy ditch on the road, aware that they were coming close to his GPS. Turning on the corner, Liam kept up the previous pace he had, with the Volkswagen Transporter now steaming towards the border. Liam knew that from here on out, it shouldn't be too much of a worry. He looked at his left leg, the bottom half- the prosthetic limb feeling as if it was always there. And on the clutch, it was fine- he didn't have any issues, just figuring out the pressure was the main thing. In the back of the van, Pavel reassured the Germans to stay quiet, and looking at Ariana, knew that it was all that they could really do. But they were being paid, and that was one thing that Pavel looked forward to. Just that aspect, and getting out of Belarus.
(Something a bit unplanned. But I think it works well, and though it isn't much Liam/Sarah focussed, it's really good on Pavel/Ariana.)
Two Days Later
Somewhere in Prague, Czech Republic
The phone rang. Pavel picked up instinctively, looking out at the rainy day that sat outside. The hotel room wasn't much, but it was enough for Pavel in some ways- the team had crashed out here since Belarus, and after Pavel had sorted out the guns with his friend, he had managed to convince them to come to Prague for the rest of the weekend. Liam and Sarah left yesterday night, mainly due to paperwork back in the UK, but Pavel and Ariana were free here. To be honest, Pavel didn't have an instantaneous crush on her, but Pavel had at least suggested it to her to give Prague a go, and that was why they were there.
"Pavel? Hello?" It was nothing but his former wife. Pavel almost wanted to curse. He swore he had her number on recognition, but she must have changed
"Hi. Look, if it's about me, I'm fine..."
"No, no, no, it's just...never mind. I just wanted to know if you're alright with all of this. I know it isn't the best, but we both know that." She replied, as Pavel looked over out the window, his tone simple.
"Of course. It's fine, Magda- I haven't got the time right now to speak about all of this. I've got issues that are a little further than this."
"The Army didn't call you up again?"
"No, but I'm getting good money now. For easy work. But there's paperwork, and there's a lot of it, I have to get to it Magda you see. I have to go- just tell Janas that it'll be fine." Pavel simply said, aware that she was a little tense about it.
"Okay, I understand. Goodbye, Pavel." She simply said, as Pavel disconnected the call, swearing in Czech as he checked the other contacts on his phone. Ariana was still there. And in the room opposite. For some reason, Pavel felt a little inclined to just surprise her in this way.
The tone rang for about twenty seconds, before it changed to something different.
"Hello? Ariana...uhh...you up for some sightseeing later when this rain subsides? We've got the best bars in the world here, they practically invented larger here after all- you up for it?" Pavel asked, as he stood up from his bed, looking out, before itching his forehead, himself currently wearing a Superdry jumper and a pair of dark blue jeans- and for some absurd reason, still wearing his beanie hat.
"Shit, I'm really looking forward to getting a drink when I get home." Liam simply said, leaning back into his seat as he slowed down for a puddle, the spray kicking up as Liam accelerated hard through the muddy ditch on the road, aware that they were coming close to his GPS. Turning on the corner, Liam kept up the previous pace he had, with the Volkswagen Transporter now steaming towards the border. Liam knew that from here on out, it shouldn't be too much of a worry. He looked at his left leg, the bottom half- the prosthetic limb feeling as if it was always there. And on the clutch, it was fine- he didn't have any issues, just figuring out the pressure was the main thing. In the back of the van, Pavel reassured the Germans to stay quiet, and looking at Ariana, knew that it was all that they could really do. But they were being paid, and that was one thing that Pavel looked forward to. Just that aspect, and getting out of Belarus.
(Something a bit unplanned. But I think it works well, and though it isn't much Liam/Sarah focussed, it's really good on Pavel/Ariana.)
Two Days Later
Somewhere in Prague, Czech Republic
The phone rang. Pavel picked up instinctively, looking out at the rainy day that sat outside. The hotel room wasn't much, but it was enough for Pavel in some ways- the team had crashed out here since Belarus, and after Pavel had sorted out the guns with his friend, he had managed to convince them to come to Prague for the rest of the weekend. Liam and Sarah left yesterday night, mainly due to paperwork back in the UK, but Pavel and Ariana were free here. To be honest, Pavel didn't have an instantaneous crush on her, but Pavel had at least suggested it to her to give Prague a go, and that was why they were there.
"Pavel? Hello?" It was nothing but his former wife. Pavel almost wanted to curse. He swore he had her number on recognition, but she must have changed
"Hi. Look, if it's about me, I'm fine..."
"No, no, no, it's just...never mind. I just wanted to know if you're alright with all of this. I know it isn't the best, but we both know that." She replied, as Pavel looked over out the window, his tone simple.
"Of course. It's fine, Magda- I haven't got the time right now to speak about all of this. I've got issues that are a little further than this."
"The Army didn't call you up again?"
"No, but I'm getting good money now. For easy work. But there's paperwork, and there's a lot of it, I have to get to it Magda you see. I have to go- just tell Janas that it'll be fine." Pavel simply said, aware that she was a little tense about it.
"Okay, I understand. Goodbye, Pavel." She simply said, as Pavel disconnected the call, swearing in Czech as he checked the other contacts on his phone. Ariana was still there. And in the room opposite. For some reason, Pavel felt a little inclined to just surprise her in this way.
The tone rang for about twenty seconds, before it changed to something different.
"Hello? Ariana...uhh...you up for some sightseeing later when this rain subsides? We've got the best bars in the world here, they practically invented larger here after all- you up for it?" Pavel asked, as he stood up from his bed, looking out, before itching his forehead, himself currently wearing a Superdry jumper and a pair of dark blue jeans- and for some absurd reason, still wearing his beanie hat.
IC is up! Post away- I know it's been a long time, but basically, just try and RP on from the courtyard in Mosul. So the first breach by Neil/Zhenya on the smaller house, whilst the others move on the actual building itself.
Somewhere in Mosul, Iraq
9th September, 2013
Jan kept his head down, his heart racing, time almost passing slower as the adrenaline kicked hard, as it did in his fellow operators. Peeking over the mudbrick wall, he sprayed four shots down the BUIS of his 416, clipping one militant, before looking back to his troops.
"Zhenya, Neil, lead the breach on that door! Wendy, Scott, angle on the left, I'll give cover!" Jan yelled, aware that the compound was now lighting up into combat. They had mostly taken them down- now, Jan knew that it was time to stop them before they made their only move left. They had to get the chemical weapon, before they got it out the front- and where Jan hoped that at least the Iraqi surveillance team would keep things on check. Jan peered over, switching to his M320 for a bit more power. Firing a single 40mm neatly into two men that were moving to set up a PKM, Jan layed down as much sustained fire as he could, feeling bullets whiz by his Ops Core helmet, and the shots ring loudly as some went into the wall, with Jan aware that he had got some of the attention. Getting a new magazine in, he cocked the weapon quickly, before looking over at the situation that was currently happening.
"Okay, Scott, Wendy, give me some cover in return- we've got to stop them from consolidating." Jan added, looking over at the other two, full engaged with enemy and definitely picking up multiple contacts in the fray of things.
Neil looked to Zhenya, looking at the door as he made a simple remark, trying to kick the door in on the smaller house of the two in the compound. The door simply didn't budge, as Neil gave another kick.
"Fuck. They've blockaded it. Only one way in then..." Neil said simply, as he made a motion for Zhenya to prep a breaching charge from off his kit, a small block of explosive, onto the door's frame. If there was a cabinet or something heavy, this would easily disodge it, along with pretty much the entire frame of the door, whilst directing the blast away from the two operators. Neil's AUG in hand, he let Zhenya get to work, scanning the area behind the rest of the advancing team, before he looked over at his Russian squadmate, hoping he was ready to go. Leaning in, he gave a signal that he would go left, though he was on the right of the door at the moment- allowing him to sweep more effectively than Zhenya would, if they forcibly went in, and check any hiding holes. Reading up, his weapon loaded with a full PMAG of 5.56, he braced himself, the Australian confident that if they didn't find it here, at least they'd get an easy flanking route on the men supressing Jan, Wendy and Scott in the courtyard leading to the rear of the house.
9th September, 2013
Jan kept his head down, his heart racing, time almost passing slower as the adrenaline kicked hard, as it did in his fellow operators. Peeking over the mudbrick wall, he sprayed four shots down the BUIS of his 416, clipping one militant, before looking back to his troops.
"Zhenya, Neil, lead the breach on that door! Wendy, Scott, angle on the left, I'll give cover!" Jan yelled, aware that the compound was now lighting up into combat. They had mostly taken them down- now, Jan knew that it was time to stop them before they made their only move left. They had to get the chemical weapon, before they got it out the front- and where Jan hoped that at least the Iraqi surveillance team would keep things on check. Jan peered over, switching to his M320 for a bit more power. Firing a single 40mm neatly into two men that were moving to set up a PKM, Jan layed down as much sustained fire as he could, feeling bullets whiz by his Ops Core helmet, and the shots ring loudly as some went into the wall, with Jan aware that he had got some of the attention. Getting a new magazine in, he cocked the weapon quickly, before looking over at the situation that was currently happening.
"Okay, Scott, Wendy, give me some cover in return- we've got to stop them from consolidating." Jan added, looking over at the other two, full engaged with enemy and definitely picking up multiple contacts in the fray of things.
Neil looked to Zhenya, looking at the door as he made a simple remark, trying to kick the door in on the smaller house of the two in the compound. The door simply didn't budge, as Neil gave another kick.
"Fuck. They've blockaded it. Only one way in then..." Neil said simply, as he made a motion for Zhenya to prep a breaching charge from off his kit, a small block of explosive, onto the door's frame. If there was a cabinet or something heavy, this would easily disodge it, along with pretty much the entire frame of the door, whilst directing the blast away from the two operators. Neil's AUG in hand, he let Zhenya get to work, scanning the area behind the rest of the advancing team, before he looked over at his Russian squadmate, hoping he was ready to go. Leaning in, he gave a signal that he would go left, though he was on the right of the door at the moment- allowing him to sweep more effectively than Zhenya would, if they forcibly went in, and check any hiding holes. Reading up, his weapon loaded with a full PMAG of 5.56, he braced himself, the Australian confident that if they didn't find it here, at least they'd get an easy flanking route on the men supressing Jan, Wendy and Scott in the courtyard leading to the rear of the house.
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