FourtyTwo

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

(I owe you all a post!)

Wizard looked back at Eagle, his mind back on the job at hand, nodding.
"Sounds good. Slow moving through a minefield, worst when it's in an environment like that without and tools, but once we get something mapped out with recon, we can figure out our approach. Take it step by step, reframe, and make sure we're where we want to be, not where they want us to be. I'll move on your call, let's not rush this." Merlin commented, nodding regarding the operatives.
"If they're a threat, we drop them. It's going to be difficult to get up close so they don't detonate, if that's their ROE." Was all Merlin had to say, as he heard the Canadians talk. Looking to the Norwegian of his team, he chuckled, making a remark.

"Fucking Canucks....eh?" Merlin merely commented to Viking, his tone sarcastic as ever, as he looked back at Blacktail and Joker. He shrugged his shoulders, as he looked out at the scenery of the islands in the distance, and the team that he had to hand in the cramped chopper.
"Lads, I'd suggest we keep a tight search on when we're out there, make sure we don't get caught out. Jungle's a heated place. Let's give em' hell."

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Wraith nodded to the Pole, adjusting the earpiece, as he looked at the Bor, then back at Scooter.
"Got it." The Kiwi replied, as he adjusted his own AUG, keeping it pointing down, adjusting his boonie hat, the ghillie's hood not wrapped over his head fully, knowing it would just get too warm in the airframe for that right now.
"Ever been to jungle like this? Fucking spiders, man." The New Zealander added, right now, Ed must have sounded like Crocodile Dundee to Romek, even though the two accents had a difference. Training in Borneo with the NZSAS was an experience to say the least, and he was still getting used to the madness that was high humidity and thick jungle, critters and shit that wanted to kill ya.

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

So....anyone posting?

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

Not the best post, but eh.

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

Merlin nodded, looking down. He was being given frontline command of this. It was how he liked to lead, from the front, not behind. He was a rather objective Captain, CWO Bastion saw that he had the nerve, he would resolve this, hopefully. And he'd deal with the FNGs, which was another good thing....probably. He had his own mind on who to take, and his mind was formulating who could do what with him.
"Understood, Cap'n." With that, he headed into the armoury, and begun kitting up. FN Minimi, in 7.62mm round. It was normally confined to the M240, or the Mk48, but it had been put into a Minimi's capacity, albeit a little more specialised. Merlin liked it, the Para being lightweight, yet carrying a 7.62mm cartridge and an aluminium buttstock, making it feel compact, close-in.

And in his hands, it felt like an implement, you could pull the trigger and shit out bullets till that barrel glowed, and anyone who was standing in front of you, even if you didn't hit them, was on the floor dead, or crapping themselves. Psychology said that you trained to hit your targets, and the capacity of a man to shoot back, while being shot at, was what defined their training. Merlin simplified that in his head. You suppress, you lay out, and if your bullets don't connect, someone else's will, repeat, adjust, and move when needed. It was moving with dynamism, not standing around that made an automatic rifleman in the capacity of a special forces team capable with a gun like this, the CWO reminded himself, it was the ability to lay out more fire, over a longer period of time, than a rifle could match, that a team like this always needed. Not that Merlin exactly didn't do imprecision either. He took his AOR1 fatigues, as well as the rest of his gear, slinging his quad-NVGs over the top of his rucksack, as well as his trusty door-opening 870 MCS, and P226, sliding a magazine in, the .357 making him feel like a fucking cowboy, but with a friggin' Sig, the round having a nice punch that he personally preferred to .45 or .40. He looked over the rest of his equipment, and then back towards Edward, before looking over the men, looming around, eyeballing still. He'd only have his P226 as a silent weapon, but that was fine, given that chances were, reconnaissance didn't mean popping fuckers left right and centre, until you really wanted to make a dent with all firepower needed, CWO Bastion thought to himself..

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Stepping onto the helicopter, Merlin sat in the side, the doors wide open, the FN Minimi sitting neatly, pointing downwards, as he looked across to JB, as he took the pictures to hand. Satellite, and UAV recon. The latter didn't sit well in Merlin's head, it was too easy to see a drone sometimes, especially against an advanced foe. This wasn't the Taliban, but it would take a simple radar device that from a force that blew it's own operatives faces off with a chip, would seem at least relatively simple. Would they know who was coming though? Some Americans, but loud, or quiet? Merlin seemed to favour the latter, even though he did feel tempted to do the former. He adjusted his specialised headset, mounted underneath his beanie's pattern, covering his ears in the chopper, as to talk to JB, looking at it all.
"I'd suggest we post up ourselves into three. Scooter and Wraith can act as our ranged element as a sniper fireteam, and can post themselves up on the southern flank, picking an OP and shooting point to conduct observation and long-range supporting fire from, cleaning out any orbital patrols they find en route to thin them out, quietly. Topography says we've got elevation, the rest is flat, but dense."

"I suggest you take Wolfman, Dash, Breach and Chip, Captain, as a primary Fireteam, and designate fireteam names as you will. And me? I'll take Blacktail, Viking, and Joker, as a secondary, used to apply pressure to a different point when, AND where, we make the assault. Way I see it, the base is well defended, and is reinforcing, it's well designed to sustain an assault with minimal numbers of troops defending. Towers deeper inside....shit. Some rats hold their jaws locked when they bite into razor wire, so they pull it all apart when they chew. Same applies here, but if we're wire, if you understand me....but good recon can offset that. For example, here." With it, Wizard pointed out the defence on the eastern side, the opposite side of what appeared to be an entrance.
"Elevation, density of forest, problem for them, solution to us, and with enough firepower, a staging point for my fire-team...we'll act as close-in reconnaissance. You can take the south-western approach, and sledgehammer into the place when ready, you blow shit apart and act as a blocking force, while we scalpel the wankers. It cuts any vehicular transport, and anyone who wants to run into the jungle is ours." Merlin added, smirking.

"Valkyrie think they can make people fear them, because of their mystery. It's the moment we mindfuck them, we get the upper hand. We scout, observe, wait, and strike when it suits us, and when it's going to cripple their structure of command and ability to deploy." Merlin added, as he looked across the helicopter, sitting on the edge, the noise now escalating as they headed out.
"We can't afford to rush, only if the situation demands it. We make sure this is a strike of our choosing, we see the people we want, and we bury it. Have we got any artillery or air support on station, if we need to put more dakker onto those bastards?" Merlin's voice was crystal, knowing by dakker, it would be pretty clear he meant blowing shit up.

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

"That's why we're good at this shit, mon cherie." Natalie's Russian hardness never, ever melted, but underneath that, you could almost imagine that inside that suit, was a red-dress wearing femme fatale, from Paris, the blood that ran through her veins sometimes coming out, replying to Victor, and that hidden excitement he had. It was fucked up, but somehow, knowing that they were in the heart of darkness, raising hell, was what made it what it was. Ross and Jenny could only look on, a little bemused, at how the two interacted, as Ross turned to Carl.
"Neither do I. But we're in the heart of hell now, and someone's got to go and confront the demons inside." Ross simply replied, putting his visor up momentarily, clearing the sweat from his brow, as he put it back down, watching as Victor and Carl looked around. For a moment, he didn't understand why he was looking back....and how it almost turned ugly, the noise of Natalie's equipment and suit turning around almost 180, almost like a rhino at Carl, before Victor was already first. She stayed quiet and stopped dead in her carbon-fiber-titanium hitting tracks, as Victor loomed over Carl, making the poor fucking guy probably shit himself, she thought. Well, if he wanted to admire her body, she'd give him that.
"I'd prefer you didn't use that scanner on me, Lieutenant. Or you're going to be looking at one soon of your own broken bones. Be lucky there's a fellow First Nations between me and you who understands too.....or you'll forget that flesh you saw faster than you think." She was cold, the ice that could be heard through the comms clear as day and yet a little with laughter at the end, as she turned, looking at the other female operator of the team, who looked like for a second, had just kinda had everything that needed to be said about the subject by Natalie, Jenny only nodding out of a scared respect. She didn't like being a bitch, but hot damn, if it wasn't fun sometimes.
"Too much? Sorry, I can't help it....but you should totally get one. Or a camera inside for you? Don't want you losing your mind in there though...." She said over the private comms line with Victor, chuckling a little, as she turned back to the corner, and the other troops that were holding the point, watching, waiting, if something would change.

As Victor and Carl moved through the alley, the noise of gunfire being heard, the soldiers on the defensive point waited. Natalie span up the GAU-19, as Ross moved behind, chambering a round, Natalie looking back.
"Ready?" She said, visor open still, as she locked it shut. With it, Natalie, like a bear of some kind, hauled the tri-barreled gun into her two sturdy gauntleted hands, and readied herself. Then, the noise of shots could be heard in the hall. She moved around, into the smoking fire, and stood still for only a second, to open up.

Whatever was left was torn apart, .50 rounds bludgoning the rest of the soldiers, the 7.62mm rounds that the other men were firing down range having little effect, as they pushed through. Natalie and Ross pushed forwards, Ross taking out a couple as Natalie hosed down the group that were on the defense, Natalie providing suppression fire as Ross and Jenny ran over the battlement, as the anarchy began. Natalie moved forwards, and moved quickly over the battlement, as Ross, Jenny and the rest of the soldiers provided cover fire, and they began to sweep, clear, and rush into the very veins of the inner compound. The noise of Carl's HEDP could be heard, blowing apart the computer servers, the lights cutting for a second, before coming back online, the whole mountain feeling like it was being blasted apart in times when there was a loud explosion, even though they were deep inside now. As mad as it was, Natalie knew that it was people like herself and Victor that embraced the chaos, and fought through it. Perhaps Ross and the others would see less to that.

"Good to hear, Lieutenant. We'll regroup further down, there should be a command centre in here. We can meet there." With that, Natalie led the way, heading deeper into the mountain, over the piles of bodies, and blood that lined the plastic floor, the place a mess, that for certain. They headed through the corridors, towards the apex of the base's last usefulness. The others were staying back, leaving Natalie, Ross and Jenny to sweep ahead with a smaller team than they set out with, headed to the command area of this high-tech base, a stark contrast to the 1800s fort outside, this being pulled from what felt like the future. They had no idea of Zara, none yet whatsoever.

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

We need to bust some skulls in this RP soon :)

Burning Rubber (Bee and kingkonrad)

Ross struggled to put two and two together, as he realised for a second, who this girl was, more and more, the image clicking that this wasn't a stranger from even a one-night stand one day, it wasn't anything like that. It was Ellie fucking Dorian. It was hard for Ross to get his head around who she was entirely. Life had split them, then put them back in this moment for some weird, strange reason. The past that they had. It felt like things were going, pacing, as he just let the words spill his tongue.

"No way." He almost froze for a moment, his brain fucked for a second in confusion and then clarity which didn't action itself the noise calming down of the music that was playing in the background, as a grin began to open up on his face. She was absolutely beautiful, not like Kimberly, but the face, the look, everything just seemed to come back to mind. A childhood they missed, in some ways, the dreams that they once sometimes told each other, the flame of his youth, but one he just didn't see any more in..well, he somehow assumed that wasn't a thing. No. Looking back at Kimberly, he saw the look of turmoil in her eyes, he had learned to see past her straight face, as he sat up a little still smirking madly.
"Your Scots accent's changed...but I know who you are." With that, Ross chuckled, smiling at her, his concussed, slightly buzzed state picking up piece after piece, knowing things had changed greatly, they were two different people. Seb and Ellie had to be the wingsuiters, he realised, that was what she did. Part of Ross was in amazement. But here he was, racing cars too. And quickly, illegally, and with a good tempest to run. And yet even Ross understood that. He could see Ellie's eyes burn like golddust, the spirit of something that he now remembered seeing.
"Kimberly...we were friends a long, long time ago. Can't believe this. Wait, so you follow Seb on his antics?" He asked, talking to lots of people at once it felt like, in a little confusion. Sebastian laughed, sitting by Ellie's side, watching her blush a little almost, as he looked over.
"Yeah man. That's crazy, dude. Can't believe you two knew each other years back!" He said, the Austrian a little amused by the sight itself, that this weird coincidence had played up in the way it had.
"Yeah, we did. Shit, that is something." Ross said, as he shook his head, almost in disbelief again, as he drank down a little more, smirking.
"So, how've you been? God, it must have been more than ten years...more....you've got to have had some adventures." And with that, Ross started the conversation up, and they realized there was a lot to catch up on, on both sides, stories of speed, adventure and love that they'd both found.

--------

"I promise!" Ryan said, chuckling, as he clanged his cider down, chuckling.
"Only racing a 600bhp rallycross car, that has enough speed to blow a hangover away. I'll leave it." And with that, Ryan finished his cider, knowing Regina wasn't looking on approvingly.
"Beer's shit anyway."

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

Edward looked back at the Norwegian, just hoping he wasn't being mistaken for an Australian by Viking, he seemed to respond that way, but not acknowledge it yet. Most people did. Christ, their flag was a lot alike, and they sounded similar, but even so.
"No, I suppose Vikings don't. But they're kinda scary anyway if you ask me. Old warriors, right?" Edward replied, as he finished up with his gear, hearing the call out from Romek. A little blase, but still, it was something he knew he was well equipped to serve.

"Scooter, I'll take you up on that, mate. I'll get my ghillie and spotting device set." The Kiwi added, as he took the rest of his equipment with him. Taking a lush green ghillie suit, one of many that appeared to be now being set up within the armoury. It was going to need a lot of work done to it, that much he knew, it would need a lot more natural foliage, but it would slip well over the uniform, covering his back and a little of his front, though not as much so as to not make him fucking boil to death, or become a stationary wookie. With spiders making nests on the bipod, no less. Christ, that was a scary thing to see when waiting, but getting local foliage would help, as he finished up equipping his full set of gear.

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

@Gunther

Hmm, would it be cheeky to get a response in? I can have Ed with Romek, if you like, as he's got a spotting device, and already operates as a designated marksman.

Task Force Zero: A Special Forces RP

Merlin watched, sizing up Captain Upton, or JB, as he was better known. A formidable operator, the same age, and of US Special Forces calibre. That he already knew, he was a US Marine, MARSOC maybe, or something more niche. UGAs, or unnamed governmental agency, perhaps, he was shady, but known to Merlin, at least. The bearded Special Boat Service CWO itched his beard, listening to the rushing brief. Covert agency, check, dangerous and radically, well armed threat, check. This was at least different to bearded sheep-shagging fucks in Syria that were killed by a bearded....actually, that was the domain of the Welsh, Merlin just killed them! Or at least, he hoped one of his old squad mates hadn't kept something from him while on a recce op, he mentally hoped. Still, Valkyrie sounded fierce, and unrelenting. A covert and silent sword in the dark would keep them from expanding, and getting started on intel and information would keep them in check. It was a lot to know, and deniability wasn't a big deal to Merlin. He'd done a few of these already, and going out for glory wasn't the approach that best served Queen and Country, it was duty, and loyalty to your men that did the trick. If it meant black bars, so be it, and aftermaths could always be dealt with, some way, or another. The Captain was certain, confident, and knew what was going on with the game, and if time was of the essence, then they would get it done, one way or another. A baptism of fire. That, and the fact that like Erik, like Seb, Merlin too, was an alcoholic. But he enjoyed cider far too much to tell.

Standing up, Merlin looked up to JB, as the other recruits began to leave the briefing room. He stood from his chair, at his height, a distinct smirk on his face, as he approached the Captain.
"Captain. Chief Warrant Officer Merlin Bastion, at your disposal. I'm told I'm your 2IC. They call me Wizard. For the obvious reason." Merlin simply said to Captain Upton, or JB, a part of Merlin's mind wanting to already chuckle at what that meant. Jack Bauer? James Bond? Jason Bourne? Justin Bieber? If he was Canadian, the motherfucker, even if he was his Commanding Officer, was going to get the literal shit ripped from him by Merlin, he thought to himself, that was literally not going to fucking end, ever. But he wasn't, he calmly reminded his mind. He was an American. Still.....JB. Maybe not as bad as his name, perhaps. Though he did look a lot like that guy from the Bourne Identity...maybe his mind was playing tricks. Reputation, and the operation at hand first.

"I've heard about your work, no doubt you've heard of mine. We're both men of the sea. Both weathered." Merlin said, as the last man left the room, that being Cpl Edward Thatcher, the New Zealander following behind the last that headed swiftly out from the brief, to the armoury on the enormous ship. Looking back at JB, Merlin leaned against the steel bulkhead, adjusting his beanie, sighing. He'd seen enough bullshit in this briefing room. A girl who didn't look like she could cut it, another who was clearly only a little better, two Poles who were poles apart in his mind, and another American, an unknown, but someone who looked like they'd seen enough SOF work to know best. There was the Canadian Sergeant, who was another unknown, and the other Canadian, a CBRN specialist who even Merlin had heard of, "Blacktail" a distant memory from a tour in Afghanistan. Then there was the Norwegian, a fellow Kraken, someone again, from Afghan. And last, there was Edward. Jesus, he hoped that fucking lad understood the gravity of this. It felt like there was no room for error, and Merlin didn't hide that on his face, as he looked icily at JB, his face stern, his voice, if you had to really get imaginary about it, like the sound that you would expect a German Shepard to make, if it could speak Human. Almost growling, hard, cold, and loud, unrestrained when he knew it had to make some impact on the CO, even if it wasn't much at all.

"Some of those lads are fucking fresh meat though. With all due respect, I'd keep a fucking eye on them, and I think you already know who. Just as a word to the wise, JB." Merlin simply made the comment, as honest as he could be, no venom spared on his tongue, as he looked back at the operational map on the wall, and the insertion, the approaches, the compound.

"I'll be gearing up. We've got lots of approaches on this run, Captain, I can already see the jungle's ripe for us. If we want to capture one of these men, making sure they don't blow up is a start, so stealth can be considered. Or we go full fucking Tropic Thunder, I grab the Minimi and we hose down any fucker we encounter, and we don't stop till we find ourselves some intel on paper or on a hard disk, not in someone. After all, a Wizard can arrive in a puff of smoke and mirrors, or a fireball." Merlin smirked, knowing that perhaps he was unorthodox, but however JB rose to this, was going to be the mark of whoever he was going to be serving in this unit. He just hoped that he'd take it well, the bearded, beanie wearing CWO awaiting a response.

------------

Edward followed behind the group, and to his side, he saw the Norwegian on the team, Erik, he believed he was called, wanting to make an acquaintance on the team, as he spoke in his usual Kiwi accent.
"I heard you're the Viking? Crazy to think, we're in this team. And we should be allowed into our armoury about now, after I checked earlier on. I mean, last time I entered an armoury on a base, the quartermaster bollocked me...can you believe that? Told him I was new to the base, still wasn't happy. It's only the room with guns, anyway!" Edward chuckled, laughing, as they made their way inside, the quartermaster nodding them in, as Edward found his patch, ready to go with the kit he'd requested, and had a brief glance at a few hours earlier.

Wraith, or Ed, began gearing up, going through his equipment from the base to the top. AOR1, a digital camouflage in forested/tropical was the choice, a lovely pattern that went well, as he donned his BDU, the Plate Carrier, the boonie that covered his head, as well as facepaint. The Mk14 sat nicely, all it's usual attachments already mounted, sprayed in the usual pattern of choice that he preferred for it. He went through magazines, grenades, the secondary MP7A2 with this loadout, and his trusty P226. Sliding a clip in, before peeling it out, just for his mental sake, he smirked. He had more to go through, and more to still inspect over.