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
Svetlana's up. Yeah, she's as ridiculous as they get.
Hmmm...well, I'll say what I'll say, but I can't do it since spoilers entirely. I'll vaguely lay it out.
I want to devolve perhaps, a very good set of teams, and Huscarl/Athena will probably stick together. However then, I would say that Linn and Zdislav would go up the ranks thanks to Arran, on Stratis, would find that they were perhaps a bit more ready to lead a fireteam. Arran would know that operationally, the demands come for it, and that in turn, they take teams that maybe at first, aren't so friendly to them, but are eventually warmed to their leadership. No spoilers, niehehehe- I think that once we progress, shit will get good.
Also, I will say that Amethyst won't be immediately on Stratis, but they'll have a temporary home at LZ Connor once they do arrive, along with Thunder 2 as an improvised FARP.
Also also, I'd like to know what you think on tech. It is 2035, my apologies if it still feels quite "this-gen" ish in terms of how it's worked out. UAVs and UGVs will see a far greater influence in the next chapter, as well as maybe some of CTRG's kit list. Compared to many settings of games, this isn't exactly very near-future, and it has been for quite a while a bit laggy in embracing that this is 2035 (though I do want to keep quite a lot of genuinely plausible kit in RP still- I really don't want to go into combat exoskeleton and more far-fetched kit since it's just...well, it doesn't work in this universe). To say the least, the Tactical Glasses are a big thing that gives your characters perspective if they have them- imagine a military based Google Glass, and all. CSAT in particular have a lot tech themselves, and though I suppose I haven't shown off much, they are pretty you know, futury.
I want to devolve perhaps, a very good set of teams, and Huscarl/Athena will probably stick together. However then, I would say that Linn and Zdislav would go up the ranks thanks to Arran, on Stratis, would find that they were perhaps a bit more ready to lead a fireteam. Arran would know that operationally, the demands come for it, and that in turn, they take teams that maybe at first, aren't so friendly to them, but are eventually warmed to their leadership. No spoilers, niehehehe- I think that once we progress, shit will get good.
Also, I will say that Amethyst won't be immediately on Stratis, but they'll have a temporary home at LZ Connor once they do arrive, along with Thunder 2 as an improvised FARP.
Also also, I'd like to know what you think on tech. It is 2035, my apologies if it still feels quite "this-gen" ish in terms of how it's worked out. UAVs and UGVs will see a far greater influence in the next chapter, as well as maybe some of CTRG's kit list. Compared to many settings of games, this isn't exactly very near-future, and it has been for quite a while a bit laggy in embracing that this is 2035 (though I do want to keep quite a lot of genuinely plausible kit in RP still- I really don't want to go into combat exoskeleton and more far-fetched kit since it's just...well, it doesn't work in this universe). To say the least, the Tactical Glasses are a big thing that gives your characters perspective if they have them- imagine a military based Google Glass, and all. CSAT in particular have a lot tech themselves, and though I suppose I haven't shown off much, they are pretty you know, futury.
Another wicked CS- I quite like that, to be honest, and I can say that works really well. My CS for Imran is up soon- and Antoine's lover (in the love triangle that is), Svetlana, will come up. Since nobody wants her, I think going on without her is a better case really. And she's batshit, trust me.
Yep. But it's kind of a crossing paths moment- though in future, I can say that they will meet again in that sort of way.
Oh yeah, they know each other- it isn't a huge mindblown moment, but yeah, CTRG has links to FIA, with Arran suggesting it because the team might be a little confused. It'll be the wrap-up to this segment that you'll see, once Huscarl and Mischief are plucked out of the water.
Still around? I mean, I'd post quick- I mean, it's been too long- just too whatever you can.
EDIT- NP.
Also, Advanced, your call whether to post or not on Linn's end- but the essence is, they're clearing shop now, and all falling back to the boat. Due to Queen preferring that in future, she wasn't in charge of a fireteam, I think Skythion/Advanced, you'll see later on to command a CTRG sub-team with a promotion of sorts for one of them. I think I packed a lot in over the last few posts, but with the sub, I wanted all anarchy to prevail as Huscarl/Mischief are forced to literally swim for their lives and get a hot extract by the other fireteam in the RIB.
EDIT- NP.
Also, Advanced, your call whether to post or not on Linn's end- but the essence is, they're clearing shop now, and all falling back to the boat. Due to Queen preferring that in future, she wasn't in charge of a fireteam, I think Skythion/Advanced, you'll see later on to command a CTRG sub-team with a promotion of sorts for one of them. I think I packed a lot in over the last few posts, but with the sub, I wanted all anarchy to prevail as Huscarl/Mischief are forced to literally swim for their lives and get a hot extract by the other fireteam in the RIB.
Aaand posted.
Thanks for all bearing with- if you know anyone that would be interested in a military RP like this by the way, I'm happy to recruit- to bring some people in that is. Antos/Mihail will act as a sort of set-piece in between "Operation Deviant", the Prologue, and the next chapter, "Husky's Fishook". No spoilers on what happens next- I really want to up the ante, and you won't see it coming quickly.
Niiice. Liking this one a lot- just the look I'm going for with this sort of character. I'll get Imran, and Svetlana up soon- Svetlana being all up for grabs by anyone still, but a character played by me for the moment.
(Queen, if you want for now, you can play out Hotwheels and Irish, in order to keep some level of continuity- they're under Athena's control, but I'll illustrate them in a half-done sort of way. Those characters will be played out in time- and sorry if the post was a little directive there, on how it ends with Huscarl/Mischief getting out. I really want to restrict it, but wasn't too sure of how to do it without breaking the flow.)
Huscarl looked at Mischief, with a particular glance.
"We haven't got time...fuck, fine. We'll take the ballast out and the propeller shaft along with the electrics, we can go from that- Athena, this is Huscarl, we're breaching into the Peterburg, get your asses back to the ship. They're going to be more than alerted, and we're going to have at least a couple of mechanized platoons swimming their IFVs across to the island and whatever naval assets are at Camp Sagonisi also coming too. Fuckers." Huscarl said, as he checked his SCAR, moving the magnifier away from the holgraphic sight, as he let Mischief take point, tossing a grenade into the submarine through the hatch. As it went off, Huscarl was following behind Mischief, as he stuck close behind when the went down, the smoke of the concentrated grenade having a serious force it seemed.
"Through here, to the rear." Huscarl said, as he moved up past a damaged door, sweeping up as he checked his corners.
"I'll go on- we'll have to split up- I'll get the propeller shaft by the engine bay, you take electronics first then the ballast. Set timers on the charges for four minutes, in case we lose our detonation period- we have two minutes in here Mischief- and you know the drill if we break out the hatch and see about fifty AAF rifles in your face" Huscarl said with a certain tone, as he moved up ahead of Mischief, taking out a CSAT Seaman with a MP443 Grach in his hands, quickly wasting him with a pair of 7.62mm rounds, as the rounds amplified in noise. He moved up, as he indicated to Mischief to go through the door ahead by the dead seaman, while he went downwards, on a naval-type ladder that was as steep as it was decending. He moved slowly, and heard a submachine gun go off, spraying a round into his chest and the rest into a bulkhead. The dragonskin plate carrier had done it's job, and Huscarl, instinctively, shot back, emptying the mag but taking two men out in quick sucession, from his knocked back position.
"Fucker." He muttered to himself, clambering back to his feet as he jumped down to the bottom, sweeping the engine room as he moved past the huge turbines and various bits of mechanical gear. But he headed to the rear, unopposed almost, as he found what he was looking for. It was right at the back- and below one of the turbines in the engine room. A distinctive mechanism, the huge steel shaft being what he was looking for. There was no chance he could dive outside- and it was protected via a huge mesh cover, that was chunky as hell. None the less, Huscarl pulled the composite explosives from his bag- an amplified and potent set of C4 charges with a focus on obliteration rather than kicking up shrapnel. It was destructive, not shrapnel-projecting in particular. He readied his EGLM module, and moved back towards a turbine, aware that the distance was just enough- about 30m, a safe detonation distance Huscarl hoped. He fired a single 40mm towards the shaft, throwing himself back against the cover of the tubrine, the 40mm tearing the mesh cover and the obstruction apart- giving Huscarl the chance to go in, and set up the explosive onto the now exposed shaft. He placed one of the 2.5kg charges, setting it up as live and quickly with his detonator gone green, Arran aware that now, was a time to hope that Mischief had done the same.
"Charges set- four minutes on the clock here, so we hustle now. Do what you can with your charges- I'll meet you back at where we were earlier, no doubt there's half the AAF now descending on us.." Arran said, switching to his silenced ACP.45, or a highly-customized KImber Warrior M1911, as he checked the mag, before re-cocking the .45 cal pistol.
He pushed out from the engine room, going slowly. A man was on the stairs, and yelled loudly in Farsi, which was cut off halfway through what he said by Arran sending a double-tap of .45 rounds into his head, the unarmed man falling down the stairs as Arran moved past. To Arran, this was just how war was- they had to do this shit sometimes, and in some regards, though it was wet work, he couldn't exactly say it was exactly something you analyzed. To some, perhaps Huscarl was the personification of the evils of that line of wet work, but he knew that in a world like this, treading lightly and expecting your opponent to play fair was a very bad idea. He pushed up the stairs, scanning ahead, as he knew seconds were going.
"A flooded sub here wouldn't be half bad, Mischief. I just don't want to drown on one, hurry the fuck up!" Huscarl said, holding by the stairs, awaiting the Czech member of the squad. He moved up through the door, moving ahead, as he got on the ladder at the top hatch when Mischief came back. He looked out, quickly realizing that the daylight was going quickly, and it was increasingly dark. But one thing he could tell. There were CSAT men on the far side of the pier, looking around, in particular at the camp. Stragglers, but worst of all, Huscarl knew that they wouldn't stand a chance in hell of taking them out by surprise- they were well spread, and would take the whole fireteam to take out. Athena must have ran back to the boat with the rest of the team, Huscarl assumed, and knew that there wasn't really much of an easy way out now.
"Crap...well, we really are going to have to get our feet wet, no chance. No way though that. Athena, lads, just push that boat out, meet us off the western side of the island close to the submarine...our way out's comprimised, we'll have to see you in the sea- use your tactical glasses to pick us out. Just snatch us and take us to Faronaki Peninsula- no disagreement, just do it." Arran said, looking back at Mischief, as he then looked over.
"All right. Just follow me- I really hope you're deep lunged, that sea doesn't look to be pleasant tonight." Huscarl added, clambering from out of the hatch, knowing that there wasn't going to be any pleasure in this. He put his rifle on his back, clearing his hands as he looked over to Mischief, already moving with a quickness towards the port side of the submarine, running over the rough Russian steel of the submarine, as he lept off the side of the curved surface. Holding his breath as he went straight into the water, he was going under as he knew his plate carrier wasn't helping, but he could just about deal with it. Ditching it wasn't a good idea- it wasn't even that heavy on Arran's swim, and as he came back up, he already had his arms into a breaststroke, already kicking out as he felt a wave kick up. He couldn't look back, but he swam as much as he could, knowing full well that this was as tiring as it got. But he could deal with this, he told himself. His lungs were large, his arms and legs would cope, and he wasn't going to give in. He was a former SBS operator, and water was his second home away from the relative stability of land, knowing that drowning wasn't going to be his agenda for the day. He kept going, time ticking as he could just about make out Mischief behind. Then all hell rose, as what seemed to be a fireball emerged from the hatch, the wave kicking Arran under as he realized, that the charges had gone off- and the explosives had maybe been overkill, perhaps done their job too well, as the submarine behind them very quickly, was breached and now beginning to go down. It hadn't destroyed the inside, but they had probably been so concentrated in the way that they went up, that the heat within was concentrated, and probably cleared it out. Arran was barely surfacing again as a wave kicked up,hearing a faint noise of a loud boat coming. He could tell through his soaked glasses, that a few dots were just far, and coming closer. Friendlies, and moreover, the others.
Antos stopped the pickup, looking at Mihail. He kept his MTAR stashed under the seat, a hard thing to see from outside the car. Since the AAF checkpoints didn't often do stop and searches to every vehicle, and some were as corrupt as nothing, meant that every other checkpoint had someone that had some sympathy for the cause, or at least, would take a 500 Dollar bundle in hand and wave all clear. In a place like this, Antos carried US and Euros, no Altisian currency- knowing full well that any AAF patrolman would happily take foreign currency and turn a blind eye. The tarmac road had come to an end, and the cabin was right at the end of the Faronaki peninsula, by a small wooden quay. The island was visible, just, but the sun was setting quickly.
"Hey man. Good to see you're still alive- thanks for keeping the post running." Antos simply said, as he cut the engine, indicating to Mihail to go back, as he then spoke.
"Fuck, I heard a loud bang when I was driving over, had to be them. They really are making noise, but at least they'll share what they have with us." Antos said, leading the way to the tiny wooden jetty, as he took a seat on an oil drum, his Sig Sauer P226- a dated pistol by 2035's standards- by his hip.
"Shit, I heard from Andreas that CSAT came in earlier this morning, on Altis International Airport- he saw no uniforms, but he saw construction workers and a bunch of these weird guys with them, apparently constructing hangars and bringing in military goods. Can't be good- I bet the Altis Government are so pissed with us, they want CSAT on board to kill us all with what they did in 2026 in Libya, those hardline Anti-Insurgency operations and their vets. I've heard rumors about some research base that they have in the North-East, and CSAT-marked vehicles that go there, but man, I don't have a fucking clue about what they want here. I mean, our boys up there got killed four weeks ago, and since then, all the leaders of FIA North-East is either all in prison or dead. Fuckers, fucking bastards." Antos said, looking out, as he looked to Mihail.
"He's fucking crazy, Andreas is. Told me that Aramis is planning something on the Feres Airfield, something big apparently and apparently, he's "Down" for it, or some stupid shit. What a moron, he's just going to lose half the fucking cell if he thinks that we're going to suddenly have a few helicopters and armored vehicles stolen from the AAF. It's their fucking operational center in the South-East, and we wouldn't last a second against someone like that. Imagine what the response would be- the AAF are on our shit bad enough as it is, imagine if CSAT comes in and wipes the floor. Shit man, I don't like it at all." Antos said to Mihail, aware that he was probably the only sane man left in this part of the island in the FIA at the moment. That was suicidal- they had nothing here, and starting from the basics had to be done. Getting civilian support, fortifying perhaps a better, undisclosed location and gather men, weapons and supplies from patrols, outposts and checkpoints rather than the big military airfields and bases. Antos wondered why he was still here, but knew that Aramis wouldn't last a day if he didn't go to Greece every other weekend and bring back several crates of TAR-21s and other mixed rifles, of anything he had been supplied with by the CIA.
"They'll be coming round in roughly twenty minutes, if they weren't just blown up. I suggest we gut the computers, and get the fuck out of here, towards the Surf Club after they relay what they have to. That abandoned one, by Thelos Bay. Might call Andreas and Damien to get there, and figure out what then." Antos added, looking at his P226, as he looked on at the distance, towards the island.
Huscarl looked at Mischief, with a particular glance.
"We haven't got time...fuck, fine. We'll take the ballast out and the propeller shaft along with the electrics, we can go from that- Athena, this is Huscarl, we're breaching into the Peterburg, get your asses back to the ship. They're going to be more than alerted, and we're going to have at least a couple of mechanized platoons swimming their IFVs across to the island and whatever naval assets are at Camp Sagonisi also coming too. Fuckers." Huscarl said, as he checked his SCAR, moving the magnifier away from the holgraphic sight, as he let Mischief take point, tossing a grenade into the submarine through the hatch. As it went off, Huscarl was following behind Mischief, as he stuck close behind when the went down, the smoke of the concentrated grenade having a serious force it seemed.
"Through here, to the rear." Huscarl said, as he moved up past a damaged door, sweeping up as he checked his corners.
"I'll go on- we'll have to split up- I'll get the propeller shaft by the engine bay, you take electronics first then the ballast. Set timers on the charges for four minutes, in case we lose our detonation period- we have two minutes in here Mischief- and you know the drill if we break out the hatch and see about fifty AAF rifles in your face" Huscarl said with a certain tone, as he moved up ahead of Mischief, taking out a CSAT Seaman with a MP443 Grach in his hands, quickly wasting him with a pair of 7.62mm rounds, as the rounds amplified in noise. He moved up, as he indicated to Mischief to go through the door ahead by the dead seaman, while he went downwards, on a naval-type ladder that was as steep as it was decending. He moved slowly, and heard a submachine gun go off, spraying a round into his chest and the rest into a bulkhead. The dragonskin plate carrier had done it's job, and Huscarl, instinctively, shot back, emptying the mag but taking two men out in quick sucession, from his knocked back position.
"Fucker." He muttered to himself, clambering back to his feet as he jumped down to the bottom, sweeping the engine room as he moved past the huge turbines and various bits of mechanical gear. But he headed to the rear, unopposed almost, as he found what he was looking for. It was right at the back- and below one of the turbines in the engine room. A distinctive mechanism, the huge steel shaft being what he was looking for. There was no chance he could dive outside- and it was protected via a huge mesh cover, that was chunky as hell. None the less, Huscarl pulled the composite explosives from his bag- an amplified and potent set of C4 charges with a focus on obliteration rather than kicking up shrapnel. It was destructive, not shrapnel-projecting in particular. He readied his EGLM module, and moved back towards a turbine, aware that the distance was just enough- about 30m, a safe detonation distance Huscarl hoped. He fired a single 40mm towards the shaft, throwing himself back against the cover of the tubrine, the 40mm tearing the mesh cover and the obstruction apart- giving Huscarl the chance to go in, and set up the explosive onto the now exposed shaft. He placed one of the 2.5kg charges, setting it up as live and quickly with his detonator gone green, Arran aware that now, was a time to hope that Mischief had done the same.
"Charges set- four minutes on the clock here, so we hustle now. Do what you can with your charges- I'll meet you back at where we were earlier, no doubt there's half the AAF now descending on us.." Arran said, switching to his silenced ACP.45, or a highly-customized KImber Warrior M1911, as he checked the mag, before re-cocking the .45 cal pistol.
He pushed out from the engine room, going slowly. A man was on the stairs, and yelled loudly in Farsi, which was cut off halfway through what he said by Arran sending a double-tap of .45 rounds into his head, the unarmed man falling down the stairs as Arran moved past. To Arran, this was just how war was- they had to do this shit sometimes, and in some regards, though it was wet work, he couldn't exactly say it was exactly something you analyzed. To some, perhaps Huscarl was the personification of the evils of that line of wet work, but he knew that in a world like this, treading lightly and expecting your opponent to play fair was a very bad idea. He pushed up the stairs, scanning ahead, as he knew seconds were going.
"A flooded sub here wouldn't be half bad, Mischief. I just don't want to drown on one, hurry the fuck up!" Huscarl said, holding by the stairs, awaiting the Czech member of the squad. He moved up through the door, moving ahead, as he got on the ladder at the top hatch when Mischief came back. He looked out, quickly realizing that the daylight was going quickly, and it was increasingly dark. But one thing he could tell. There were CSAT men on the far side of the pier, looking around, in particular at the camp. Stragglers, but worst of all, Huscarl knew that they wouldn't stand a chance in hell of taking them out by surprise- they were well spread, and would take the whole fireteam to take out. Athena must have ran back to the boat with the rest of the team, Huscarl assumed, and knew that there wasn't really much of an easy way out now.
"Crap...well, we really are going to have to get our feet wet, no chance. No way though that. Athena, lads, just push that boat out, meet us off the western side of the island close to the submarine...our way out's comprimised, we'll have to see you in the sea- use your tactical glasses to pick us out. Just snatch us and take us to Faronaki Peninsula- no disagreement, just do it." Arran said, looking back at Mischief, as he then looked over.
"All right. Just follow me- I really hope you're deep lunged, that sea doesn't look to be pleasant tonight." Huscarl added, clambering from out of the hatch, knowing that there wasn't going to be any pleasure in this. He put his rifle on his back, clearing his hands as he looked over to Mischief, already moving with a quickness towards the port side of the submarine, running over the rough Russian steel of the submarine, as he lept off the side of the curved surface. Holding his breath as he went straight into the water, he was going under as he knew his plate carrier wasn't helping, but he could just about deal with it. Ditching it wasn't a good idea- it wasn't even that heavy on Arran's swim, and as he came back up, he already had his arms into a breaststroke, already kicking out as he felt a wave kick up. He couldn't look back, but he swam as much as he could, knowing full well that this was as tiring as it got. But he could deal with this, he told himself. His lungs were large, his arms and legs would cope, and he wasn't going to give in. He was a former SBS operator, and water was his second home away from the relative stability of land, knowing that drowning wasn't going to be his agenda for the day. He kept going, time ticking as he could just about make out Mischief behind. Then all hell rose, as what seemed to be a fireball emerged from the hatch, the wave kicking Arran under as he realized, that the charges had gone off- and the explosives had maybe been overkill, perhaps done their job too well, as the submarine behind them very quickly, was breached and now beginning to go down. It hadn't destroyed the inside, but they had probably been so concentrated in the way that they went up, that the heat within was concentrated, and probably cleared it out. Arran was barely surfacing again as a wave kicked up,hearing a faint noise of a loud boat coming. He could tell through his soaked glasses, that a few dots were just far, and coming closer. Friendlies, and moreover, the others.
Antos stopped the pickup, looking at Mihail. He kept his MTAR stashed under the seat, a hard thing to see from outside the car. Since the AAF checkpoints didn't often do stop and searches to every vehicle, and some were as corrupt as nothing, meant that every other checkpoint had someone that had some sympathy for the cause, or at least, would take a 500 Dollar bundle in hand and wave all clear. In a place like this, Antos carried US and Euros, no Altisian currency- knowing full well that any AAF patrolman would happily take foreign currency and turn a blind eye. The tarmac road had come to an end, and the cabin was right at the end of the Faronaki peninsula, by a small wooden quay. The island was visible, just, but the sun was setting quickly.
"Hey man. Good to see you're still alive- thanks for keeping the post running." Antos simply said, as he cut the engine, indicating to Mihail to go back, as he then spoke.
"Fuck, I heard a loud bang when I was driving over, had to be them. They really are making noise, but at least they'll share what they have with us." Antos said, leading the way to the tiny wooden jetty, as he took a seat on an oil drum, his Sig Sauer P226- a dated pistol by 2035's standards- by his hip.
"Shit, I heard from Andreas that CSAT came in earlier this morning, on Altis International Airport- he saw no uniforms, but he saw construction workers and a bunch of these weird guys with them, apparently constructing hangars and bringing in military goods. Can't be good- I bet the Altis Government are so pissed with us, they want CSAT on board to kill us all with what they did in 2026 in Libya, those hardline Anti-Insurgency operations and their vets. I've heard rumors about some research base that they have in the North-East, and CSAT-marked vehicles that go there, but man, I don't have a fucking clue about what they want here. I mean, our boys up there got killed four weeks ago, and since then, all the leaders of FIA North-East is either all in prison or dead. Fuckers, fucking bastards." Antos said, looking out, as he looked to Mihail.
"He's fucking crazy, Andreas is. Told me that Aramis is planning something on the Feres Airfield, something big apparently and apparently, he's "Down" for it, or some stupid shit. What a moron, he's just going to lose half the fucking cell if he thinks that we're going to suddenly have a few helicopters and armored vehicles stolen from the AAF. It's their fucking operational center in the South-East, and we wouldn't last a second against someone like that. Imagine what the response would be- the AAF are on our shit bad enough as it is, imagine if CSAT comes in and wipes the floor. Shit man, I don't like it at all." Antos said to Mihail, aware that he was probably the only sane man left in this part of the island in the FIA at the moment. That was suicidal- they had nothing here, and starting from the basics had to be done. Getting civilian support, fortifying perhaps a better, undisclosed location and gather men, weapons and supplies from patrols, outposts and checkpoints rather than the big military airfields and bases. Antos wondered why he was still here, but knew that Aramis wouldn't last a day if he didn't go to Greece every other weekend and bring back several crates of TAR-21s and other mixed rifles, of anything he had been supplied with by the CIA.
"They'll be coming round in roughly twenty minutes, if they weren't just blown up. I suggest we gut the computers, and get the fuck out of here, towards the Surf Club after they relay what they have to. That abandoned one, by Thelos Bay. Might call Andreas and Damien to get there, and figure out what then." Antos added, looking at his P226, as he looked on at the distance, towards the island.
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