FourtyTwo

Burning Rubber Three (Bee and kingkonrad)

Zoe chuckled, looking across to her with a wry grin, knowing she felt pretty much the same....but knew it was possible they would still do it anyway. It just felt like a given thing, an inevitability

"Me learning how to use one of those? Shiiit...." She added, giggling as she shifted up, overtaking a slow moving tractor on the valley road, picking up a little more pace as she sighed, her coo almost showing that yeah, she was maybe pulling back from it. Then again, she was always the ideas girl. Val seemed to send just a little harder than her, Zoe always right behind. Well, unless her peachy ass was right in shot, then in which case, yeah, Zoe knew where she wanted to be. First to fly, send and be kicking ass. Still though, she had plenty of time for Columbian compadre, even in spite of the stupid shit they got into.
"Okay, maybe we learn it together. Make a video out of it, if I'm going in, I'm not going without you, hey!" Zoe giggled, knowing that while it was dark, they could both take that humour- they were living life on the edge, and well, a certain thing came with it, the two driving out into the middday sun.

----

Hugo took a deep breath, looking across the small room with an almost vacant stare. The temporary lodging in the team's motorhome, with a bed, a small desk and a lamp above felt like a bit of a cage, but nothing compared to some of the crappy hotels he'd stayed in. He could take this. Privacy, well, almost with how little soundproofing it had, but it was home at least. In a white underlayer with sponsors on, leggings to go with it, the Portuguese teen seemed at ease, as if he was taking a moment of zen before he had to go back out again.

The phone gave a gentle buzz, as Hugo reached across the bed, picking the device up with a gentle swipe, seeing the caller ID flash before he did.
"Hey, Hugo! It's Maxine....how is my client doing?" The sound of Maxine Blake, his agent rang through, as he put it off speaker, taking the phone to ear. He leaned back against the wall, feet sprawled across the bed, the British 40-something woman the handler for Hugo's brand, reputation, and right now, involvement in F1.
"Good, good thanks Maxine. You good?" His accent came across, his English stellar and unbroken but clearly accented with the Portuguese tinge it had. He did speak French, Spanish and English fluently, a gift of a good education, that and a dad who travelled.

"Yeah, not too bad thanks, actually. How have you settled in over there at Valkyrie? Been a while since pre-season, hey?"
"It's good...shit, I'm pinching myself....can't believe we made it, into F1 Maxine! This is insane..." Hugo said, Maxine chuckling as he breathed a sigh of relief almost to himself.
"Yeah....and what's she like? Kasumi, I mean."

"Oh yeah, she's cool, Maxine. Really nice. Super friendly. Wouldn't want to be her though...she is going to have a lot of pressure. With you know...."
"For sure Hugo...she's the first female in modern F1, she will have doubters. But she isn't a PR stunt, she is more than capable. Her pre-season times raised a lot of eyebrows, I'll say that now. It's impressive she didn't end up at the other teams- Red Bull were making serious enquiries before this gig happened. I know you two challenged each other a lot last season, so I'm glad there's no bad blood from when we spoke last."
"Not an issue. We're here to get points, the team comes first. She seems cool, anyway. Far better than some assholes I've had before."

"That's great, that's great...just remember, you're also here to boost your reputation. You aren't here to race Hamilton, but you need to show what you're made of. Shit, if the team is lucky, you might score points. That's a very good day....Valkyrie is clearly minted, with a lot of money and a hell of a lot of resources for a new outfit, but you have to still remember, they are behind the curve. Remember, you are now in a shop window, Hugo. Lot of people are going to talk about you, like we said.....what you now do, say, feel about things, actually matters. You behave like a child, trust me, the Principals talk about it. So be better thab that. And because I know you aren't rolling in money, the reason Valkyrie has you is because you're talented. So's Kasumi. So show them what you're worth, and everyone else too- this game is fickle and you need to be more than just a walking pound sign. Let's forget the whole Ferrari thing, yeah? Lots of new opportunities here, and a good chance to build up your reputation. Don't be an arsehole, keep up good optics and socials, get good race pace and I'll be fielding calls for you in no time."

"Pretty difficult to forget they lied to me, Maxy....ahh, yeah I guess you're right. Thanks for the heads up."
"It's literally what I get a cut for. I wouldn't get paid if I didn't think about your best interests and talked to the right people, would I?"
"Well, that's why you're talking about reputation now. Let's just take one season at a time, shall we before we look at more cut for you?" Hugo said, Maxine audibly laughing, knowing they could chat shit like that from time to time, as side-on as that joke went.
"Haha...well, I am that confident in you. You have this. It's going to be a long season. Just focus on what's first. Don't be a dick. Remember the media training, but have good optics. You're the underdog, Hugo. Go get em."

(all yours to start off the next chapter officially :) )

Lexibon's Megathread (MxF/FxF) +18 Mature Plots

PM'd :)

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Andrew pulled the trigger after picking his target through the FLIR optic, then refocussing to the next man and pulling again, the rounds flying across the 420m void and straight into both the tangoes, the first getting a shot through the head and the other to his core, breaching any kevlar vest he wore with relatively little stress. After all, a .50 BMG round didn't exactly piss around that either of the two had.
"Clean. Holding. Nice shots, Nolan." Andrew only replied, watching the ridgeline, giving it a moment. It was a sniper's job not to rush, but to get the job done. As Nolan rightly posted it, there could be more.

"Two more. Closing from 500, right hand side of our dead guys on the ridgeline. Part of the same patrol, looks like they staggered back. I have forefront, you have rear. Conditions same. Fire when ready." Andrew coldly commented, readying his shot. On that count, he pulled the trigger, again lacing the target accurately, in spite of his shivering hands and his freezing breath. The round cleanly pulled an arm off as it went through his side, splattering out the other end. The work was filthy with a round of this caliber, but it got you guaranteed results. With a few more minutes to pass, they could assess, watching and waiting.With those two dropped, Andrew got back to his feet from the knelt position, back into moving across the shelf.

"Think that's our lot. C'mon, Nolan. Let's git'er done." He remarked, taking the momentum to push forwards and up onto the snow, his boots depressing into the snow and crunching gently as he got back to a combat pace. They needed to hustle, and get their end of the gig sorted.

"Osprey, this is Cordite. We're moving up to our next OP point. We should be able to give you an overwatch once we're up into the hills above the base. There's the lone radar dome, and we'll put our charges there. I trust you're making your moves towards their AA sites in the valley, right? Should be a couple Tunguskas, a couple S-400s mounted on Ural trucks. Lay some bricks and get the fuck out of there. We'll snipe any fuckers that get in your way." The Kiwi called out, knowing that Eric was on a mission of his own, to raise a bit of chaos and be a lone dagger. With the New Zealander and the Canadian snipers moving up, they had the opportunity to get moving past the squad of dead soldiers they'd hit, and up into position. Their bodies would be covered in snowdrift soon enough, and even if there was an issue with radio callback, in 20 minutes, it wouldn't matter. They were going to be hit hard, and pummeled by the cavalry that was coming in. A symphony of their base going up in explosions would preclude that, like the lightening before the thunder hitting.

Perching himself down into an overlook spot, Andrew wiped his scope and weapon of snow, looking down into the valley.
"Holy fucking moly. They really have it secured." He commented, giving a quiet whistle, pointing it out.
"So, their AN-124 is sitting there, nice and comfy with the two SU-34s. AA, three BTR-90s, and damn, is that a barrack? Lot of troops milling there. Got a spot on where they're trying to attack the fortified bunker, right side of the ATC tower. Looks like they're trying to break in...much as it would be easy to shoot those fuckers first, that'd blow open our op. Alrighty. Nolan, we got the dome 100m down from us, majority of the targets in the valley are 600-800m. I can set the bricks on the dome and bound it back to here- want to keep a watch for our friend in the valley?"

---------

Natalie took a moment to look to him, her gaze looking towards the Mohican's, her reaction warm, beyond the severity of it all. They were together for a good reason not just as soldiers, but as a couple, and knew how to look after, treat each other, and support each other. The most kind of fucked up relationship that was enboldened by being giants, oh, and wielding weaponry most could barely carry in two man teams.
"One step ahead." With her own set pulled out of a pouch, it was almost as if the other half of the partnership knew exactly what Victor was like. Pulling the small pouch out from one of her secure MOLLE pouches on her front, she pulled the lid open, able to get a grip on it with her monkey-paw like gauntleted hands, able to be remarkably accurate in spite of that.
"I decided not to...well, I can't do it very well. Rare of me to admit a fault, hey?" The Russian commented, gently taking some of the red onto the metal and scraping it gently against Victor's cheek. She rembered the patterns now, the looks and the significance from what she had told him. She had listened, and knew how valuable, how important it was. A ritual that needed help, no matter what armour or weapon he wielded it- Victor had a strength in that. Finishing the pattern, she cleaned her gauntlet's tips with a lick of spit. After all, she hadn't the chance to get her hands out of this thing, not very easily at this point!
"Though I suppose...have you got anything in mind if you did want to do it for me?"

Juggernauts (BigPapaBelial and kingkonrad) IC

Andrew chuckled, seeing the cavitating torpedo sear past, rushing through the sea as an undetectable, almost hypersonic to them appearing out of the blue and gone back into it again.
"Yeah, no shit....he's fucking Solid Snake in that thing. Will probably cause them as much issue as he did....come to think of it, this feels a lot like a Metal Gear Solid fucking rip-off. You know? High tech terrorists, a world-ending threat, in the Arctic....nah, I'll shut up. That's totally not this. Right?" He asked, chuckling away, knowing Nolan might not have known, but either way, the realisation was amusing to him. Turning his head back forwards, he continued to kick, seeing the glacier end up ahead. With a few more pushes, the Kiwi was at the surface, right by the edge of the ice.

Clambering up, he got himself up first, reaching a hand to pull up Nolan from behind.
"Come on then. He might have a head start, but we still got fuckers to frag, and a job to do. I'm with you, Nolan." Andrew added, pulling his balaclava back, and getting ready to move.

After getting righted, and ditching the rebreather tanks in favour of the ghillies they'd brought in their waterproof bags, Andrew felt a little more ready, the DSR.50 cocked and ready, with the MP5SD6 on his back and the USP by his side. The drysuit was still on, given just how cold it was, and it still provided good insulation above ground, keeping hypothermia and the extreme cold at bay. It must have been -40 with windchill, it was the sort of cold that almost sucked the cold out of the Kiwi's lungs, but he guessed the Metis' Canuck didn't give a shit, completely at home in this. Moving along the glacier was treacherous, but they had found a route through, mostly sticking onto the more solid arcs of compacted ice, avoiding the crevasses. It wasn't much ground they had to cover, but enough for them to reach their first observation point, an opportunity to take stock of the ridgeline they were going up and onto.

"Four guards up there, looks like a shitty OP at our next shooting position. They'll see us if they move up. Nolan, you want the two on the left, I'll clip the two on the right? Range is about 410, 420- comp will be hefty in the downdraft wind here but put it two clicks left on your optic, and it'll neatly line onto them." Andrew asked, aware that once they were on the ridge, they would have clear view of the upper radar spotting position and AA missiles, and then a clean run to do overwatch for Osprey.

---

"Hoo-rah!" The rest echoed, clambering into the V22, Natalie visibly grinning as she sat by her fiancee's side, the only place she wanted to be right now in the rear of the tilt-rotor. Taking his armoured hand in hers, she looked into his eyes, a look of fire right there.
"You look good, honey. Want me to adjust your war paint a little? I know how touchy you are about it....and how you like it." She said to him, smiling. They had formed a bond over it- she had once rocked a lightening bolt after all on her face, not in the same manner but in one that felt meaningful to her own self. A mark of confidence, albeit for today, she was clean faced. It seemed trivial, but they had a journey to go on, and well, themselves to make sure they were ready. They were the super-heavies after all. Where all the bullets were flying. It paid to be feeling good.

Meanwhile, Ross sat by Jenny and Carl, the other mercs and soldiers stepping in.
"He certainly has a way with words. For what we're about to do...stay focussed, and stay sharp. Remember, principal is that target down there. They'll be well protected, maybe even have a lot more firepower. So just be ready for anything, you two. We really don't know what cards they hold." He added, the tiltrotor beginning to whir up, the flight about 30 minutes out to the AO. They'd have some time to prepare, and by that point, the snipers would have done their job, as Ross checked his Mm48 over, Jenny her MG3's magazine.

Name Change Request

Hi,

Could I please have a name change request?

kingkonrad -> FourtyTwo

Burning Rubber Three (Bee and kingkonrad)

Zoe shrugged as she turned the G-Wagen down the hairpin bend, knowing that Val was undoubtedly gonna take a lot more time to cool off, and knew it wasn't . Putting some music on from her bluetooth-connected phone, some quiet house playing in the stereo, the Swiss girl sighing as she turned another bend, sloshing slush billowing behind the black G-Wagen. Subtle it wasn't, but hey, Zoe's pockets were deep and when she saw this was availible, she just had to. After all, it was big, spacious, and a Mercedes that could go off-road- why not?

It was a strange thing, between the both of them. Sometimes Zoe wondered why Val decided to keep coming back- it wasn't the money, was it? It probably wasn't, Zoe guessed- Val did pay her own way, so chances were, it was that Zoe was the only girl that was as crazy as she was, and as willing to get stuck in with her. Perhaps in their own weird way, they put up with each others' oddities- and in their sports that they did, there were very, very few partnerships because barely anyone did it. Plus, Val even when mad was kinda cute to Zoe. Like an angry rabbit thumping away, she couldn't help but still feel under all that shit, there was someone sarcastic and willing to cut the shit with her.

The road continued to wind, as Zoe turned down the radio, knowing that even in spite of what Val said, she had to break the silence, as they came out of the high mountain valleys and now on the bigger roads towards Marrakesh, taking them gently down out of the High Atlas.
"Merde...yeah, that caps off the adventure nicely. Done with Morocco, baby...didn't really have much in mind after this. There's this project a friend of mine keeps talking about, someting insane to do with a propelled wingsuit concept. Shit, you ever wonder you'd try it?"

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

Splendid!

Feel free to throw up posts- I've been moving around loads lately, so for me it's not been the easiest.

@BigPapaBelial

Char so far from introductions sounds cool!

Burning Rubber Three (Bee and kingkonrad)

Zoe shrugged, sighing as she adjusted the way she was carrying the wing over her shoulder, taking a firmer grip with her gloved hands.
"You were going slower, I thought you were coming to me, sorry gal...look, whatever, it is what it is. Come on, we're nearly there now. Neaaarly there..." She replied, almost going into song towards the end, trying to take the sting out of their argument, sighing as she brushed her hair back, getting some of the snow out of it. She probably expected this of Val now, she had a temper about her- then again, she could too, given how much she sometimes came to blows...sometimes it was best to just let it go. She did look like she had taken a bruise, but again, mentioning it would probably get a heap of shit- not like it was the worst that the two of them had suffered on their adventures. Zoe herself had broken her ankle pretty nastily in the past, but well, she wasn't one to be stopped that easy.

She thought to herself, they were on a frozen mountain together, and more likely than not, Val would probably appreciate the good that had come out of this. Despite being like they were the Gallagher brothers at times, they were like Oasis, rockin' the world when they were together. Even Zoe, as headless as she could be at times, wasn't completely apathetic as to why people did the things they did. Her just being mindless was gonna get this, so it was stiff upper lip till they got further down, the Swiss girl taking all her own cameras off and hucking them into her North Face pack.

And that they did, making their way through the thinning snow in the forest down to a small track, where a grey Mercedes G-Wagen was parked. Zoe's credit card certainly worked wonders at the hire car office, and while pretty much any cheap 4x4 would have done the trick.
"Bagsy driving!" She squeaked, throwing her stuff straight into the back seats and bolting into the driver's seat- still wrapped up in most of her gear. Throwing her boots into the back, she grabbed a pair of trainers, a tasteful set of Nikeys, Zoe still keeping her jacket on for warmth. After all, the heating in even a fancy car like this would take some time to really spool up, as she took a good look back to Val, sighing out. She knew she had to say something, or Val was gonna be real, real mad.

"Look, I really didn't mean it. Promise. I know you're mad...so I'll make this up to you, food's on me tonight. I'll get us something fancy to treat after that....we did good, mon ami. That was fucking crazy..."

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

"I only imagine I might..." Skye added, chuckling as she gave the fox one last fluff, before going back to the table, watching as it swung it's tail playfully into Zurvan's gob, a sight that couldn't stop Skye from chuckling. As mature as she was, it was hte little things to her, she just felt it was human and in an environment like this, it came with the territory to enjoy what you did more than overthinking it.

Sam gave the middle finger back to Astrid, a bit drier yet happy to let that go- knowing full well the boss was watching with both eyes squarely at him and Astrid...
"Yeah, yeah, try growing up and living in Rotterdam, Gungnir..." He said, quietening his tone as he took the blunt and lit it, gently inhaling as he leaned back in the chair, taking a bit on board before he replied.

"And uhh, let's just leave it at the fact that you were the one that took him to hell in a fucking cell by suckering him into the septic tank! Ever heard of murdering people more quietly?" Sam replied, taking another strong hit as he sucked it in, chilling back, aware he wasn't gonna come back again.

Just let it go, because fuck it, he knew he'd done his job just like Astrid had- the Dutchman giggling a little to Astrid, shrugging about it all to show he was letting back. Perhaps not perfectly, but then again, Skye had a point- there WERE a lot more than they expected to be interfering with there, and well, most other SOF teams just couldn't done what they had done. Extracting a high value target with a shitload of guards, with a speed and precision that most just didn't have.

Skye only sighed in response to the two, giving an ice cold stare to both Sam and Astrid, almost of disapointment, but more to just kill off whatever they were they were chittering away about, the fox almost seeming to Skye like the more responsible of the three kits here right now. Like the mum she was, she had enough of their shit- and the look in her eyes, sharp as it was like a shard of glass, seemed to very much illustrate her thoughts. She finished the glass, gently washing it out under the sink, taking her gaze off to just give them a moment to reengage. Zurvan's funny admission made her chuckle a little- he was always the underrated team member, more subtle but a goldmine nonetheless. Easier than the other two that was for sure, but still, his own breed beyond all the animals he had brought in. Their reference to the meme even got a chuckle out of Skye, a crack she didn't at all mind showing especially with how much a liking the fox had to the Scottish woman- something that came before refocussing on all their questions.

"Quiet, you two. The holiday's not entirely all inclusive, I'll put it that way. Fairly fucking heavy, actually. And well, we don't know who exactly Black Flag are sending. What we do know though..." Astrid said, sitting up on one of the stools in the kitchen area, perching up to look to the three before she continued.

"Is that they have a Yasen-class nuclear submarine in their possession allegedly heading to a meeting at an old Nazi U-Boat facility on the island. I'm not making that shit up. Yes, I know, a fucking nuclear, Russian fourth-generation piece of advanced naval technology in their possession. Codenamed the "Lost Ash", it's something that our handler kept an eye on- I mean, it ain't a fucking set of car keys, now is it? And here we were thinking those fucking Russians were good at getting their property back themselves..." Skye started, sighing as she knew a little more than the team needed to know right now, but she never held back on telling. After all, these were the people who might die for her- as she would for them, and transparancy went a long way in that.

"The sub basically corresponds to a terror attack about a month ago where Severomorsk got raided in a pretty scary chemcial attack our friends in Russia covered up to pretty much every intelligence community out there- they call it "damage control" to stop anyone thinking their potential has been affected. Bad move, because they forgot to mention that a certain group of mysterious, well backed anrcho-terrorists now have an actual nuclear submarine, with actual fucking cruise missiles aboard it- and only now, the Russians tell us they're direly fucked- their own intelligence agencies are probably comprimised too they think. It's a shitshow." Skye's optimism rarely took a dink like that, but well, she wasn't a Queen for nothing- she told her people exactly what went down, and why.

"Anyway, right now they've got zero proper navigational guidance for any weapons system natively installed and are likely running with a crew of absolute retards who got it out of port....but they sub get that jury-rigged to GLASNOST or GPS, get restocked with enough specialists to figure that thing out beyond just sailing the seven seas, like those cruise missiles and the nuclear fuel on board? Bad fucking day at the office for Athens, Rome or Istanbul." Skye added, shaking her head, tapping the desk.

"So things really are fucked. But same time, it's a good opportunity to sabotage a serious element of Black Flag in one go. Cut a lot of snakeheads off, and maybe gain some intel on who actually orchestrated the...." Almost as if on cue, Skye's phone buzzed, the CO looking and seeing Oracle's tag flash up.

"Shit, sorry, gotta take this. But yeah, till we know more, we'll sit tight until we can do something about it." She replied hastily, taking the call and leaving the room to talk, Sam looking across to the other two. She was good at hiding things, but that was a clear, clear tell that she had a call from their boss's boss. Meaning, their conversation mere minutes ago for rest was now gone to shit.

"I can't belive our fuckin R&R just got cut, again. Every fucking time, dammit!" Sam said, knowing full well that the team had already gone through this shit enough- it was almost textbook, especially when Skye went the way she did. They'd spent enough months as a team to see that already- that plan had very quickly gone to shit, and Sam probably voiced that for everyone, even though he knew full well they'd get on with the work.

"So, we taking bets on how serious this is gonna be? This sounds like Piri-Piri, hot spice...like, that ain't a courtesy call, and she knows it." Sam asked the other two, himself already trying to get more serious, even though he definitely was still a little baked.

--

A few minutes later, and the scene on the team leader's face had gone from a playful description to a more concise, hardened look. The redhead had empathy for fucking the team's rest over, but then again, that was why they got paid- and also, why they were here, because they were on watch. And when Skye spoke, you listened- because it wasn't without reason that someone in the world had dialled the last emergency service.

"So, you know that thing I was just saying? Everyone, you've got thirty to sort your affairs- we'll catch up on holiday when the world doesn't want to go to shit....again. Grab your gear- Astrid, Sam, I need you to take rebreathers and quite a fair amount of explosives, diving kit and close quarters weaponry- you're gonna be possibly sorting the sub out. Zurvan, you're with me- standard assault setup for you for us to pin the facility in. We'll meet down by the vehicle pool, I'll get us briefed en route to theatre moment we know what's in play- it appears we have a window of opportunity with the LOst Ash. So let's fucking go, yeah?! Skye barked, the former Major not mincing a single word of what she had to say.

Sam kept his tongue locked down as he stood up, dropping the blunt and doing his best to get back to reality, one that would come right back down on the ride into theatre. The dark-haired Dutchman walked past, and headed for the armoury, very much aware that him and Astrid no doubt had a pretty fucking thrilling job on this op- but no less one to take seriously, and get done as professionally and cleanly as they could. The team may have been dysfunctional, but when it came to doing the job efficiently and effectively, there were no second-bests.

Foxtrot Oscar- The Eccentric Military RP

We have three slots about for this RP- if anyone is still interested we are still open to applications!