Post by rampage on May 28, 2008 22:38:09 GMT -5
Baghdad, Iraq
Operation: FIRE LANCE
August 27th, 2011
14:54:34 (2:54 PM)[/tt]
"Communications?"
"-Go, sir!"
"Fire support?"
"-Standing-by, sir!"
"UAV stream?"
"Streaming live, sir!"
"Target moving eastward..." Numerous screen lit up the Strategy Center as a black and white image revealed a run-down vehicle moving slowly through the streets.
"Five men in the car, armed... one women, four males." The analyst stated as the image switched to thermal, showing a fully packed vehicle.
"We just got approval from the white house!" A corporal said as he held a sheet of paper, the ink running from his fingers.
A second Lieutenant snatched the paper from the corporal's hands, reading the order, signed by President McCain himself.
"We just got a go on Operation Fire Lance, deploy Ranger team three, four, and five to the vicinity, lock it down." The Second Lieutenant ordered.
"Yes, sir!" The team shouted.
The Hanger[/tt]
"Get to see some action today." a young Private First Class said as he inserted a clip into his M468, pulling back the charging handle, loading the first round into the chamber, watching as the bolt slammed forward, twisting to the right to lock, striking his thumb across the fire selector to 'safety.'
"No doubt." The others grinned as they inserted what was on the table into the pouches of their vests, strapping the Velcro tops closed, numerous others placing on their elbow pads, and securing side-arm holsters to their right legs, checking their pistol to make sure it was loaded by pulling back the slide, reassured by the reflection of the brass casing contained within the port, and released, sealing it shut once more.
"Alright, Rangers... listen up." A Sergeant First Class said as he stepped up to the others.
"We've been training for this siege for the past three weeks. Assad Rehead cannot escape." he stressed.
"You know your spots, your positions, I want this run by the book. Leave no man behind." He paused.
"Hooah?" He asked.
"HOOAH!" the Rangers shouted as they glided their storm goggles along their helmets, where they were ready to be descended.
"Mount up." The young Staff Sergeant said as he threw his helmet on, and grabbed his M16, pulling back the charging handle, and releasing it with sharp movements, three Black Hawk helicopters waiting for them on the runway, the rangers climbing aboard as the engines thundered against the pavement, blowing sand and pebbles in all directions.
"All units, commence Operation Fire Lance."
"This is Devil Dog, commencing Operation Fire Lance." The primary pilot said as he nodded at his co-pilot, their tinted flight goggles descended over their eyes as they rose the throttle lever, the helicopter roaring as it began to ascend off the runway, all three helicopters taking off simultaneously as the Humvee unit moved in a large parade one the ground, leaving the base with rangers in their midsts, machine gun turret manned and ready.
War... it had been going for it years... and even yet, many of the civilians were growing with nerves, one year away... one year away to discover if the Mayans were wrong... one year left... till Armageddon.
The three blacks hawks moved through the blue sky, Army Rangers glancing down at the desert sand below, the pavement of the roads blurred from the heated aurora as it rose off the surface.
"Just to think! -We were all two weeks away from going on leave!" a corporal smiled as he shouted over the thundering engines.
"This is Devil dog, 20 miles to target, over." the pilot said into the radio as they descended their altitude to below 400 feet, the shadows casting from their helicopter's as the sun's reflection could be seen from the green-tinted windshield.
"ETA -10 minutes." The pilot added.
"Get ready to rock..." The staff sergeant said as he rested his weapon across his knees, uncapping the ACOG scope, revealing amber coated lenses, the others doing the same.
"Target is located in the Klabara' complex, names is Assad Rehead, age 56, black hair, brown eyes, he's wearing a tan robe with a red-"
"Yeah, same as all the others rag-heads down there." A corporal laughed, the sergeant giving him a glare that could kill, but couldn't help but laugh.
"Target is to be brought back alive, when we secure him, Road Hog unit will come in to assume control, and take him back to HQ for processing and interrogation." The Sergeant said as he continued to chew his gum.
"That a hooah?" he asked.
"Hooah!" the rangers shouted as they spat out the side of the open hatch in the helicopter.
Klabara', Iraq
15:45:39 (3:45 PM)
[/size]
"We've arrived in operation air space, ETA twenty-five seconds." The pilot said as they made their approach to the building.
"Rangers, target is still in the building, cut the power, and move in, clear all floors, no firing unless fired upon." the radio chimed.
"ETA - fifteen seconds!" the pilot shouted.
"Let's get ready to rock!" The Staff Sergeant said as he stood, bracing his hand along the rail as the Humvee squad took off to the roads, cutting off the back exit to the building that loomed tall over the rest, the other rangers removing the caps off their close quarter battle scopes, and reached overhead, pulling down their storm goggles to protect their eyes.
"Devil Dog here, we're on site." The pilot said as he glanced around, then turned to face the rangers in the back, giving a thumbs up.
"Fast rope! -GO! -GO! -GO!" The Staff sergeant said as he threw two ropes out the hatch, another doing the same for the other side, his men relaxing their rifles as they grabbed onto the rope, crossing their legs over as they began to slide down, the wind from the helicopter screaming as the looming shadows of the others swerved by, one descending into the streets, dropping an eight man team off, while the other went to the back, fast-roping it's unit into the parking lot, then taking off, Rangers moving with with weapons shouldered.
"HQ, this is Devil Dog, precious cargo has been deployed." the pilot said as the ropes were disconnected from the helicopter, the turret gunner aiming down at the building as the helicopter began to yaw to the left, circling the building.
They slammed to the ground with a jolt, scrambling to cover, and pulled up their weapons, sand and rock swirling around them as the winds surged pass their desert camouflage, two others running to the powerhouse, bolt cutters in their hands as they enclosed them around a solid bolt, enclosing the jaws around the device and watched the bolt lock clank along the flooring, the other opening the door with haste as he aimed his weapon inside.
He nodded to the other, who went inside opening up the circuit breaker and flipped off the master power switches, watching as the lights above the cables flickered out.
"All teams, power has been cut, move in." The Staff Sergeant said as his team placed two small plastic explosive charges on the door.
"Breaching! -Breaching!" he called as he puled up the detonator, pulling the rod out, then pushing it in, a red light indicated the charges were armed, removed the safety switch, and twisted to the right, a "click" ensuing through their ears as the explosives went off, the ropes landing behind them as the report banged throughout the building, the sound of breaking glass clattering as the breaching charges of the other teams went off, screaming ripping through the silence.
"MOVE! -MOVE! -MOVE!" the staff sergeant said as he began to pace himself down the stairs, weapon shouldered as they approached another door, a combat engineer bringing up the shot gun, aimed it at the hinges, and fired, blowing a hole through one, splinters and dust raining on the team as he aimed downward, firing at the other hinge, bringing up his leg and kicked the door down with a resounding crack, the team pouring into the room, screamed as terrorists shouted back.
Shots ripped through the building, the team splitting off in two as they fired at the same time, the reports deafening in their ears as the flashes tore through the room, brass casings landing along the clay flooring as the shadows coursed through the sunlight.
"Tango down!"
"Red neutralized!"
"Raghead dead!"
"Threat down!"
"Left room! -Clear!"
"Right room! -Clear!"
"Left side! -Clear!"
"Move it! -Move it! -Move it!"
"We got company..." a middle eastern accent whispered as several other Arabs, wielding AK-47s, the contractor on the other side standing.
"We'll have to meet another time, Mister Breshniev." The Acadia leader stated.
"What about me?" The Arab asked.
"Come with us." the sounds of gun fire were getting closer, the contractor closing his briefcase with a snap, the others escorting the others down the hall.
The ran through, smoke had been deployed, Acadia running through the halls as they screamed at one another, the voices of the Americans tearing through the once quite city, the thundering roar of the helicopters disrupting the silence.
More shots fired, a full automatic burst from one of the insurgents, whirling around the corner as more rounds tore through the clay, rays of light pouring through the holes as the insurgent's face was written in agony, clenching his side as blood began to seep through his fingers, Assad pausing in terror as he watched the soldier before him die, reaching into his coat and drawing a silver Desert Eagle, sprinting pass the opening as more rounds clashed through the clay wall, fragments of dust flicking off with every shot, dust crossing into the light, turning it into rays.
"He's making a run for it!" The staff Sergeant glanced to the other side of the balcony, watching as Bravo Team sprinted along the other side, weapons shouldered as more shots could be heard from the lower levels.
"Pin him in!" The Staff Sergeant said as the younger ranking soldiers sprinted around the corner, shots fired into the narrow hall, revealing nothing but the empty corridor, and the office down the corner.
"No money..." the soldier said.
"HQ, this is Alpha Team, there seems to be no evidence of an exchange. I say again, no evidence of exchange." The African American soldier said into the radio.
"Roger that, Alpha Team, pursue target."
"Alpha team, roger!" The staff sergeant said as he glanced at the others, indicating the stairs with a thrust of his hand.
"Bravo team, we got 'em!" -the radio charred.
Boots thumped against the clay flooring as the contractor, the leader, and several henchmen stormed through the corridors, the Rangers on their rear as they rounded a corner, a firefight taking place before their eyes as they watched several insurgents pinning down Charley team as they continued to fire.
"This way!" The escorts shouted as they opened the door, entering another labyrinth of corridors as they made their way to the emergency exit.
"Don't let him get away!" The staff sergeant shouted as he barreled through the building, the others behind them as they breathed hard, their hearts thundering in their chests as they followed Assad's heavy breathing.
"Road Hog, he's heading your way!" The Staff Sergeant said as he rounded a corner, shouldering his rifle and fired multiple shots, the others doing the same, watching as bodies clattered along the floor as smoke levitated from the floor, the other rangers moving out of their cover to a pair of doors, nodding to eachother as they gave hand signals to one another, one of them propping the door open and tossing in a cylinder the size of a portable coffee-mug into the room, watching as the flash and loud report tore throuhg the area, the doors kicked in, screaming and yelling ensuing as the staff sergeant walked inside, weapon shouldered as he watched Charley team slam the occupants of the room against the wall, securing their hands with plastic zip-tie.
"VIP's secured." The team leader nodded.
They ran through the long corridore like mad, hearts thundering in their chest as they shoved their way out through the double doors, the blinding light of the desert sun stunning them as the roar of helicopters loomed forward, the wind surging through their hair as a voice on a megaphone tore through the wind.
"This is the US. Army! Drop your weapon! -Hands over your head!" Assad opened his eyes, his desert eagle in hand as he saw numerous Humvees blocking his path, American soldiers on their knees, aiming their rifles in his direction, machine gunners on the turret, helicopters hovering less then twenty feet above the ground, helicopter blades swirling up a storm.
"Drop your weapons! NOW!" the voice on the megaphone shouted, the insurgents glancing at Assad with nervousness, as if referring upon him as to what to do next.
"This IS your final warning!" the Americans shouted, removing the safety off their weapons. Assad slowly raising the handgun, and releasing it, the pistol dropping to the pavement in slowmotion, clattering to the surface with a resounding crash, the others doing the same, the contractor lowering the breif case, slowly raising his hands over his head and stepped away from the package.
"Secure them!" the voice on the megaphone shouted, Assad grinning as he saw movement on the roof tops, long tubes beginning to perch themselves over.
There was a resounding whistle as smoke blew from the roof tops.
"RPG! GET THE F-" An explosion ripped forward, sending one of the Humvees crashing into another, glass exploding in all direction as flames rolled forward and into a fireball of black smoke, the ranger's diverting their attention to the rear -Assad grabbing his weapon, the other doing the same, the Contractor grabbing the briefcase as another rocket was deployed, crashing into the helicopter.
"WE'RE HIT!" the pilot screamed as he was jerked forward against the controls, his joystick slamming forward, driving the helicopter into the side of the building, sending flames in all directions as debree crashed to the surface below.
Another RPG was fired, sailing into another Humvee, a white trail of smoke pursuing the rocket as it spun into the confines of another Humvee, sending the truck forward and on it's side, glass shattered as a soldier marred with blood cried in pain, falling out of the turret as he covered his eyes, blood seeping through his fingers.
"Target's getting away! -I say again! -Assad's on the run!" The Sergeant First Class shouted into the radio.
"This is Devil Dog, we got him." the pilot of one of the black hawk helicopters said as they yawed to the right, pinning the nose downward as they followed the six runners, two insurgents glancing to the rear and rose their rifles, firing at the Rangers who were on the ground.
"Regetty! -Take 'em!" the co-pilot shouted as he yawed the air craft to the right once more, the machine gunner grinning as he aligned the sites on the gun to the two terrorists, and opened fire, tracer rounds spitting forth as they clashed into the desert sand -and then into the bodies of the two terrorists, blood spraying from their backs as they dropped to the ground.
"d**nit!" Staff Sergeant Jones shouted as he heard the chaos, both outside, and on the radio. Just when we had him... this had to happen...
Assad scrambled around a corner in the alley, where a chain of vehicles lay waiting for him, his insurgents moving forward into the city to divert the attention of the rangers, all wielding AK-47's and RPK machine guns, screaming with anger as they moved forward, full automatic bursts tearing through the chaos as the swealtering heat continued to fry the small rural city, Assad climbing into the vehicle, his contractor doing the same, out of breath, pumped from the adrenaline.
The driver slammed on the gas, the other vehicles doing the same as they left the city.
"Stay off the main roads... they'll have them locked down!" Assad shouted at the driver in Arab, the driver nodding as he turned violently around the corner, taking the side roads.
"HQ, this is Devil Dog, target is moving west on the 80 Freeway!"
"Say again, Devil Dog!" The radio charred.
"I say again, Assad is mov-!" There was a highpitched whistle, the right side machine gunner glancing forward to see a black warhead with a white trail of smoke closing in on the aircraft.
"RPG! -RIGHT SI-" Flames rolled into the helicopter as the machine gunner rose his hands to cover his eyes, sparks flying in all directions as the controls short-circuited, errupting into flames as the glass in the windshields exploded into the pilot crew.
"This is Devil Dog! -We've been hit! -We're-" the helicopter began to spin, smoke blowing from the rear.
"We're going down! -Devil Dog is going down!" The pilot screamed as everything blurred before him, his co-pilot tightening his grip on the safety-rail as he held his breath, his heart pounding, his stomach rolling in knots.
"I can't contol her! -They're not responding!"
"We're going to hit!" The helicopter spun on it's side, smashing into the sand, sending chunks of metal from the helicopter blades in all direction, a cloud of sand elevativing above the crash site and descending over the helicoper.
"Good God..." The other helicopter pilot muttered into the radio... dead silence... no radio communication, no abscience, just cold... isolated silence.
"This is Sierra 1-2... we've got confirmation of a Black Hawk down, at Sector 2-4... north-east." the pilot said into the radio.
"I don't think there's any survivors..." he said as he glanded down at the crashsite, where he could make out the twisted scrap of the black helicopter, glancing ways ahead to spot a massive insurgent movement ahead.
"Insurgents are moving in the crash site, recommend full mission abort." The pilot said stated.
"This is insane!" The Second Lieutenent shouted.
"Sir! -Think about Samolia!" The officer stated.
"We don't accept defeat! -God d**nit!" the Lieutenant screamed, his face flushing into a deep red.
"Our men are being picked off like flies, sir!"
The Lieutenant stood silent, glancing at the reply frame of the helicopter spinning to the city street, crashing with impact that sent a cloud of dust, sand and dirt into the air, smoke flodding the view, another frame popping up showing a furious fire fight in the market area.
"We need to pull them out... this was a bad call, sir!" The Master Sergeant stated.
"Get our men out of there, this mission has been aborted."
Plot featured in novel in production...
"Do you have it?" Assad asked as he glanced at the Contractor with interest.
"Yeah..." The Contractor said as he flipped several locks on the briefcase, each one popping open, and lifted the lid, revealing a book.
"Lendieth' Medith' Thous' Desiree... worth a fortune... said to hold the key to the end of the world... all those who don't affiliate with Islam will regret ever doing so..." The Contractor stated as he turned the case to the Terrorist leader.
"Perfect." Assad said, and with a grin, glidded his hand along the metal decorating on the cover.
"Four hundred Million is the price." The Contractor said as he began to close the lid.
"I don't think so..." Assad said as he pulled up his pistol, thumbing the hammer with a click, the Contractor's eyes widdening as the gun was fired, his head exploding like a watermellon as the fifty caliber round tore through his skull as though it were paper, One of his henchmen snickering as they opened the side door, and tossed the body out the side, watching it roll as the car continued to move.
War...
For long, humanity has feared the word, while others saw it as a chance to rule, to reveal their true name, to come forth from the shadows, and reveal their iron fist.
For thousands and thousands of years, wars have played a turning point in man's philosophy, created by the Great Father in his image, it had become evident that man would one day, in his greed, his lust, and in his madness, destroy the world. Armagedon, was what the bible had called it, but the truth remaining behind the manifestation of words was never truely understood. It was said to come by fire, by water, by nuclear winter, snow, ice... but never by the creatures of the night, never by eight chosen warriors. -Warriors who had been cast from their bodies and confined into eight beasts of the primeval world.
Assad Rehead knew full well what he was doing... and in the clutches of his hands, he held the key to the end. The summoning page marked for all to see. Where mistic words lay waiting, sleeping for their awakening.
On International Television, he broadcasted his threat to the world, holding the book up as though it were an icon of relgious faith, when in fact, it was no more than a doomsday weapon. A weapon not composed by gears, projectiles, or technology, but by super-natural forces beyond our comprehension. And archeologists knew what it was, for they had found it themselves, located within the confines of a dig site that had once been an ancient ceremonial ground, a Temple Blessed by the Gods themselves, -Where it's technology could only be explained as mistic, and seemed to magnify fear, misery, and emotions of mortals beyond endurable measures. But the book had been found by human hands, where it was waiting... sleeping, biding it's strength for the future. Fate had a funny sense of humor, and when it came to deal with humanity, to test them, and their will to overpower their curiosity and greed, it was a test that they ultimately failed. A test that will have set the wheels turning. And by force, two of the excavation diggers turned, and with guns, slaughtered the remaining team. Grasping the book from the blood soaked clenches of one of the diggers, and sealed it away, where it was sent to the Contractor, to sell to Assad Rehead.
The United States does not negotiate with terrorists, and therefore, from the ashes of Operation Fire Lance, a new war was declared, a war to end all wars. And with the economic investments being made, more countries entered the war. This wasn't a war being fought to build up a weaker country, but to gain wealth. War makes money, and with a global economy on the verge of collapsing with the rapid vanishing reserves of oil, war was all that could save the economy.
Armagedon is said to occur during a war of massive scale. A war that is not fought by armies, but by business men, and politicians around a desk. War, is no longer what it used to be, warfare is business. And the eight guardians, who had been sacrificed by the knife, knew this full well. Their souls cast into the bodies of eight beasts. Eight beasts who would awaken when the tribulations, and ceremonies were completed, with the sacrifice of human blood upon the folds of the paper it had been cast, blood that would run black, rich with the sins of man, that would thus deem themselves as a key to the end of all things.
"Takes us to the temple of Islam, and hurry." -Assad had said to the driver, who nodded in return, making way to the horrizon.
They say that greed can come in many forms, that power is what consumes the most. Manifesting itself as a thumb of circumstance in one's side that eventually drives them to hunger for the so called wealth in which they so desire. To either enrichen their lives, or makes others miserable. In either perspective, one can conclude that there is no evil, and no good. That there is no victim, and no hero. That both sides of a war ask a single question, Everyone is a hero, and everyone is a villian. -And no one knows whose the victim, and whose the aggresor... and what is peace? -All common questions asked about in every war in history. And with the blood of millions who have fallen, and the words that have maped the fate of an unchanging world, there can only be one answer... and it was spoken, through a dark room, a reflective knife laid flat upon a crest, light by candles, in a circle of ash that resembled a moon, ash that dimly reflected the light of the candles.
He remained on his knees, soaked in a fluid that had condensed his body. -On his side, there lay an empty canister of oil, while on his left, there lay a three-piece candle stand, a knife that had never been touched, gazing up at the roof, where a dome revealed the history of the Islam faith, where a large hole alowed sunlight to pour down to the floor of the temple.
-He took the knife from the floor, the silver blade casting a blinding reflection as sunlight danced across it's edges and place it firmly along his wrist, watching his skin ripped as the blade sliced through his skin, and drove deep into the vein, where his life-blood bubbled, allowing it to trickle down his arm and onto the pages of the book, landing with a ripple upon the pages that seemed to thunder as though it were a storm.
He shouted as tears began to pour from his eyes, the blood flowing from his arm, to the book, where it rolled down to the crests, and onto the flooring, amongst the ash which resembled the moon.
He glanced down at the book, and then to the circle that he had confided himself, watching as the candles continued to flicker, watching as the blood circled around him, filling in the circle that he had made for himself, a grave that he, himself had dug... taking the candle in his hand, and rose it overhead, watching as the three flames began to dance in the ventilation that began to fill the area.
With this scream, he released the candle, the golden brass reflecting the sunlight as it clattered to the floor with a crash, rippling through the sand as the blood-circle had been filled, and with a rush of wind, the oil expanded, consuming Assad Reheads body in a fury of flames that danced about his body, his scream tearing through the temple as his flesh began to char, and his eyes began to boil. And through the wind, the pages began to turn, and as though it were written upon by the a pen, words began to appear.
Operation: FIRE LANCE
August 27th, 2011
14:54:34 (2:54 PM)[/tt]
"Communications?"
"-Go, sir!"
"Fire support?"
"-Standing-by, sir!"
"UAV stream?"
"Streaming live, sir!"
"Target moving eastward..." Numerous screen lit up the Strategy Center as a black and white image revealed a run-down vehicle moving slowly through the streets.
"Five men in the car, armed... one women, four males." The analyst stated as the image switched to thermal, showing a fully packed vehicle.
"We just got approval from the white house!" A corporal said as he held a sheet of paper, the ink running from his fingers.
A second Lieutenant snatched the paper from the corporal's hands, reading the order, signed by President McCain himself.
"We just got a go on Operation Fire Lance, deploy Ranger team three, four, and five to the vicinity, lock it down." The Second Lieutenant ordered.
"Yes, sir!" The team shouted.
The Hanger[/tt]
"Get to see some action today." a young Private First Class said as he inserted a clip into his M468, pulling back the charging handle, loading the first round into the chamber, watching as the bolt slammed forward, twisting to the right to lock, striking his thumb across the fire selector to 'safety.'
"No doubt." The others grinned as they inserted what was on the table into the pouches of their vests, strapping the Velcro tops closed, numerous others placing on their elbow pads, and securing side-arm holsters to their right legs, checking their pistol to make sure it was loaded by pulling back the slide, reassured by the reflection of the brass casing contained within the port, and released, sealing it shut once more.
"Alright, Rangers... listen up." A Sergeant First Class said as he stepped up to the others.
"We've been training for this siege for the past three weeks. Assad Rehead cannot escape." he stressed.
"You know your spots, your positions, I want this run by the book. Leave no man behind." He paused.
"Hooah?" He asked.
"HOOAH!" the Rangers shouted as they glided their storm goggles along their helmets, where they were ready to be descended.
"Mount up." The young Staff Sergeant said as he threw his helmet on, and grabbed his M16, pulling back the charging handle, and releasing it with sharp movements, three Black Hawk helicopters waiting for them on the runway, the rangers climbing aboard as the engines thundered against the pavement, blowing sand and pebbles in all directions.
"All units, commence Operation Fire Lance."
"This is Devil Dog, commencing Operation Fire Lance." The primary pilot said as he nodded at his co-pilot, their tinted flight goggles descended over their eyes as they rose the throttle lever, the helicopter roaring as it began to ascend off the runway, all three helicopters taking off simultaneously as the Humvee unit moved in a large parade one the ground, leaving the base with rangers in their midsts, machine gun turret manned and ready.
War... it had been going for it years... and even yet, many of the civilians were growing with nerves, one year away... one year away to discover if the Mayans were wrong... one year left... till Armageddon.
The three blacks hawks moved through the blue sky, Army Rangers glancing down at the desert sand below, the pavement of the roads blurred from the heated aurora as it rose off the surface.
"Just to think! -We were all two weeks away from going on leave!" a corporal smiled as he shouted over the thundering engines.
"This is Devil dog, 20 miles to target, over." the pilot said into the radio as they descended their altitude to below 400 feet, the shadows casting from their helicopter's as the sun's reflection could be seen from the green-tinted windshield.
"ETA -10 minutes." The pilot added.
"Get ready to rock..." The staff sergeant said as he rested his weapon across his knees, uncapping the ACOG scope, revealing amber coated lenses, the others doing the same.
"Target is located in the Klabara' complex, names is Assad Rehead, age 56, black hair, brown eyes, he's wearing a tan robe with a red-"
"Yeah, same as all the others rag-heads down there." A corporal laughed, the sergeant giving him a glare that could kill, but couldn't help but laugh.
"Target is to be brought back alive, when we secure him, Road Hog unit will come in to assume control, and take him back to HQ for processing and interrogation." The Sergeant said as he continued to chew his gum.
"That a hooah?" he asked.
"Hooah!" the rangers shouted as they spat out the side of the open hatch in the helicopter.
Klabara', Iraq
15:45:39 (3:45 PM)
[/size]
"We've arrived in operation air space, ETA twenty-five seconds." The pilot said as they made their approach to the building.
"Rangers, target is still in the building, cut the power, and move in, clear all floors, no firing unless fired upon." the radio chimed.
"ETA - fifteen seconds!" the pilot shouted.
"Let's get ready to rock!" The Staff Sergeant said as he stood, bracing his hand along the rail as the Humvee squad took off to the roads, cutting off the back exit to the building that loomed tall over the rest, the other rangers removing the caps off their close quarter battle scopes, and reached overhead, pulling down their storm goggles to protect their eyes.
"Devil Dog here, we're on site." The pilot said as he glanced around, then turned to face the rangers in the back, giving a thumbs up.
"Fast rope! -GO! -GO! -GO!" The Staff sergeant said as he threw two ropes out the hatch, another doing the same for the other side, his men relaxing their rifles as they grabbed onto the rope, crossing their legs over as they began to slide down, the wind from the helicopter screaming as the looming shadows of the others swerved by, one descending into the streets, dropping an eight man team off, while the other went to the back, fast-roping it's unit into the parking lot, then taking off, Rangers moving with with weapons shouldered.
"HQ, this is Devil Dog, precious cargo has been deployed." the pilot said as the ropes were disconnected from the helicopter, the turret gunner aiming down at the building as the helicopter began to yaw to the left, circling the building.
They slammed to the ground with a jolt, scrambling to cover, and pulled up their weapons, sand and rock swirling around them as the winds surged pass their desert camouflage, two others running to the powerhouse, bolt cutters in their hands as they enclosed them around a solid bolt, enclosing the jaws around the device and watched the bolt lock clank along the flooring, the other opening the door with haste as he aimed his weapon inside.
He nodded to the other, who went inside opening up the circuit breaker and flipped off the master power switches, watching as the lights above the cables flickered out.
"All teams, power has been cut, move in." The Staff Sergeant said as his team placed two small plastic explosive charges on the door.
"Breaching! -Breaching!" he called as he puled up the detonator, pulling the rod out, then pushing it in, a red light indicated the charges were armed, removed the safety switch, and twisted to the right, a "click" ensuing through their ears as the explosives went off, the ropes landing behind them as the report banged throughout the building, the sound of breaking glass clattering as the breaching charges of the other teams went off, screaming ripping through the silence.
"MOVE! -MOVE! -MOVE!" the staff sergeant said as he began to pace himself down the stairs, weapon shouldered as they approached another door, a combat engineer bringing up the shot gun, aimed it at the hinges, and fired, blowing a hole through one, splinters and dust raining on the team as he aimed downward, firing at the other hinge, bringing up his leg and kicked the door down with a resounding crack, the team pouring into the room, screamed as terrorists shouted back.
Shots ripped through the building, the team splitting off in two as they fired at the same time, the reports deafening in their ears as the flashes tore through the room, brass casings landing along the clay flooring as the shadows coursed through the sunlight.
"Tango down!"
"Red neutralized!"
"Raghead dead!"
"Threat down!"
"Left room! -Clear!"
"Right room! -Clear!"
"Left side! -Clear!"
"Move it! -Move it! -Move it!"
"We got company..." a middle eastern accent whispered as several other Arabs, wielding AK-47s, the contractor on the other side standing.
"We'll have to meet another time, Mister Breshniev." The Acadia leader stated.
"What about me?" The Arab asked.
"Come with us." the sounds of gun fire were getting closer, the contractor closing his briefcase with a snap, the others escorting the others down the hall.
The ran through, smoke had been deployed, Acadia running through the halls as they screamed at one another, the voices of the Americans tearing through the once quite city, the thundering roar of the helicopters disrupting the silence.
More shots fired, a full automatic burst from one of the insurgents, whirling around the corner as more rounds tore through the clay, rays of light pouring through the holes as the insurgent's face was written in agony, clenching his side as blood began to seep through his fingers, Assad pausing in terror as he watched the soldier before him die, reaching into his coat and drawing a silver Desert Eagle, sprinting pass the opening as more rounds clashed through the clay wall, fragments of dust flicking off with every shot, dust crossing into the light, turning it into rays.
"He's making a run for it!" The staff Sergeant glanced to the other side of the balcony, watching as Bravo Team sprinted along the other side, weapons shouldered as more shots could be heard from the lower levels.
"Pin him in!" The Staff Sergeant said as the younger ranking soldiers sprinted around the corner, shots fired into the narrow hall, revealing nothing but the empty corridor, and the office down the corner.
"No money..." the soldier said.
"HQ, this is Alpha Team, there seems to be no evidence of an exchange. I say again, no evidence of exchange." The African American soldier said into the radio.
"Roger that, Alpha Team, pursue target."
"Alpha team, roger!" The staff sergeant said as he glanced at the others, indicating the stairs with a thrust of his hand.
"Bravo team, we got 'em!" -the radio charred.
Boots thumped against the clay flooring as the contractor, the leader, and several henchmen stormed through the corridors, the Rangers on their rear as they rounded a corner, a firefight taking place before their eyes as they watched several insurgents pinning down Charley team as they continued to fire.
"This way!" The escorts shouted as they opened the door, entering another labyrinth of corridors as they made their way to the emergency exit.
"Don't let him get away!" The staff sergeant shouted as he barreled through the building, the others behind them as they breathed hard, their hearts thundering in their chests as they followed Assad's heavy breathing.
"Road Hog, he's heading your way!" The Staff Sergeant said as he rounded a corner, shouldering his rifle and fired multiple shots, the others doing the same, watching as bodies clattered along the floor as smoke levitated from the floor, the other rangers moving out of their cover to a pair of doors, nodding to eachother as they gave hand signals to one another, one of them propping the door open and tossing in a cylinder the size of a portable coffee-mug into the room, watching as the flash and loud report tore throuhg the area, the doors kicked in, screaming and yelling ensuing as the staff sergeant walked inside, weapon shouldered as he watched Charley team slam the occupants of the room against the wall, securing their hands with plastic zip-tie.
"VIP's secured." The team leader nodded.
They ran through the long corridore like mad, hearts thundering in their chest as they shoved their way out through the double doors, the blinding light of the desert sun stunning them as the roar of helicopters loomed forward, the wind surging through their hair as a voice on a megaphone tore through the wind.
"This is the US. Army! Drop your weapon! -Hands over your head!" Assad opened his eyes, his desert eagle in hand as he saw numerous Humvees blocking his path, American soldiers on their knees, aiming their rifles in his direction, machine gunners on the turret, helicopters hovering less then twenty feet above the ground, helicopter blades swirling up a storm.
"Drop your weapons! NOW!" the voice on the megaphone shouted, the insurgents glancing at Assad with nervousness, as if referring upon him as to what to do next.
"This IS your final warning!" the Americans shouted, removing the safety off their weapons. Assad slowly raising the handgun, and releasing it, the pistol dropping to the pavement in slowmotion, clattering to the surface with a resounding crash, the others doing the same, the contractor lowering the breif case, slowly raising his hands over his head and stepped away from the package.
"Secure them!" the voice on the megaphone shouted, Assad grinning as he saw movement on the roof tops, long tubes beginning to perch themselves over.
There was a resounding whistle as smoke blew from the roof tops.
"RPG! GET THE F-" An explosion ripped forward, sending one of the Humvees crashing into another, glass exploding in all direction as flames rolled forward and into a fireball of black smoke, the ranger's diverting their attention to the rear -Assad grabbing his weapon, the other doing the same, the Contractor grabbing the briefcase as another rocket was deployed, crashing into the helicopter.
"WE'RE HIT!" the pilot screamed as he was jerked forward against the controls, his joystick slamming forward, driving the helicopter into the side of the building, sending flames in all directions as debree crashed to the surface below.
Another RPG was fired, sailing into another Humvee, a white trail of smoke pursuing the rocket as it spun into the confines of another Humvee, sending the truck forward and on it's side, glass shattered as a soldier marred with blood cried in pain, falling out of the turret as he covered his eyes, blood seeping through his fingers.
"Target's getting away! -I say again! -Assad's on the run!" The Sergeant First Class shouted into the radio.
"This is Devil Dog, we got him." the pilot of one of the black hawk helicopters said as they yawed to the right, pinning the nose downward as they followed the six runners, two insurgents glancing to the rear and rose their rifles, firing at the Rangers who were on the ground.
"Regetty! -Take 'em!" the co-pilot shouted as he yawed the air craft to the right once more, the machine gunner grinning as he aligned the sites on the gun to the two terrorists, and opened fire, tracer rounds spitting forth as they clashed into the desert sand -and then into the bodies of the two terrorists, blood spraying from their backs as they dropped to the ground.
"d**nit!" Staff Sergeant Jones shouted as he heard the chaos, both outside, and on the radio. Just when we had him... this had to happen...
Assad scrambled around a corner in the alley, where a chain of vehicles lay waiting for him, his insurgents moving forward into the city to divert the attention of the rangers, all wielding AK-47's and RPK machine guns, screaming with anger as they moved forward, full automatic bursts tearing through the chaos as the swealtering heat continued to fry the small rural city, Assad climbing into the vehicle, his contractor doing the same, out of breath, pumped from the adrenaline.
The driver slammed on the gas, the other vehicles doing the same as they left the city.
"Stay off the main roads... they'll have them locked down!" Assad shouted at the driver in Arab, the driver nodding as he turned violently around the corner, taking the side roads.
"HQ, this is Devil Dog, target is moving west on the 80 Freeway!"
"Say again, Devil Dog!" The radio charred.
"I say again, Assad is mov-!" There was a highpitched whistle, the right side machine gunner glancing forward to see a black warhead with a white trail of smoke closing in on the aircraft.
"RPG! -RIGHT SI-" Flames rolled into the helicopter as the machine gunner rose his hands to cover his eyes, sparks flying in all directions as the controls short-circuited, errupting into flames as the glass in the windshields exploded into the pilot crew.
"This is Devil Dog! -We've been hit! -We're-" the helicopter began to spin, smoke blowing from the rear.
"We're going down! -Devil Dog is going down!" The pilot screamed as everything blurred before him, his co-pilot tightening his grip on the safety-rail as he held his breath, his heart pounding, his stomach rolling in knots.
"I can't contol her! -They're not responding!"
"We're going to hit!" The helicopter spun on it's side, smashing into the sand, sending chunks of metal from the helicopter blades in all direction, a cloud of sand elevativing above the crash site and descending over the helicoper.
"Good God..." The other helicopter pilot muttered into the radio... dead silence... no radio communication, no abscience, just cold... isolated silence.
"This is Sierra 1-2... we've got confirmation of a Black Hawk down, at Sector 2-4... north-east." the pilot said into the radio.
"I don't think there's any survivors..." he said as he glanded down at the crashsite, where he could make out the twisted scrap of the black helicopter, glancing ways ahead to spot a massive insurgent movement ahead.
"Insurgents are moving in the crash site, recommend full mission abort." The pilot said stated.
"This is insane!" The Second Lieutenent shouted.
"Sir! -Think about Samolia!" The officer stated.
"We don't accept defeat! -God d**nit!" the Lieutenant screamed, his face flushing into a deep red.
"Our men are being picked off like flies, sir!"
The Lieutenant stood silent, glancing at the reply frame of the helicopter spinning to the city street, crashing with impact that sent a cloud of dust, sand and dirt into the air, smoke flodding the view, another frame popping up showing a furious fire fight in the market area.
"We need to pull them out... this was a bad call, sir!" The Master Sergeant stated.
"Get our men out of there, this mission has been aborted."
"...The Sins of the father, shall pass unto their sons..."
[/size][/i]Plot featured in novel in production...
Story written by Scott Eriksen, US Army
The Sins of the Red Moon
[/size]"Do you have it?" Assad asked as he glanced at the Contractor with interest.
"Yeah..." The Contractor said as he flipped several locks on the briefcase, each one popping open, and lifted the lid, revealing a book.
"Lendieth' Medith' Thous' Desiree... worth a fortune... said to hold the key to the end of the world... all those who don't affiliate with Islam will regret ever doing so..." The Contractor stated as he turned the case to the Terrorist leader.
"Perfect." Assad said, and with a grin, glidded his hand along the metal decorating on the cover.
"Four hundred Million is the price." The Contractor said as he began to close the lid.
"I don't think so..." Assad said as he pulled up his pistol, thumbing the hammer with a click, the Contractor's eyes widdening as the gun was fired, his head exploding like a watermellon as the fifty caliber round tore through his skull as though it were paper, One of his henchmen snickering as they opened the side door, and tossed the body out the side, watching it roll as the car continued to move.
War...
For long, humanity has feared the word, while others saw it as a chance to rule, to reveal their true name, to come forth from the shadows, and reveal their iron fist.
For thousands and thousands of years, wars have played a turning point in man's philosophy, created by the Great Father in his image, it had become evident that man would one day, in his greed, his lust, and in his madness, destroy the world. Armagedon, was what the bible had called it, but the truth remaining behind the manifestation of words was never truely understood. It was said to come by fire, by water, by nuclear winter, snow, ice... but never by the creatures of the night, never by eight chosen warriors. -Warriors who had been cast from their bodies and confined into eight beasts of the primeval world.
Assad Rehead knew full well what he was doing... and in the clutches of his hands, he held the key to the end. The summoning page marked for all to see. Where mistic words lay waiting, sleeping for their awakening.
On International Television, he broadcasted his threat to the world, holding the book up as though it were an icon of relgious faith, when in fact, it was no more than a doomsday weapon. A weapon not composed by gears, projectiles, or technology, but by super-natural forces beyond our comprehension. And archeologists knew what it was, for they had found it themselves, located within the confines of a dig site that had once been an ancient ceremonial ground, a Temple Blessed by the Gods themselves, -Where it's technology could only be explained as mistic, and seemed to magnify fear, misery, and emotions of mortals beyond endurable measures. But the book had been found by human hands, where it was waiting... sleeping, biding it's strength for the future. Fate had a funny sense of humor, and when it came to deal with humanity, to test them, and their will to overpower their curiosity and greed, it was a test that they ultimately failed. A test that will have set the wheels turning. And by force, two of the excavation diggers turned, and with guns, slaughtered the remaining team. Grasping the book from the blood soaked clenches of one of the diggers, and sealed it away, where it was sent to the Contractor, to sell to Assad Rehead.
The United States does not negotiate with terrorists, and therefore, from the ashes of Operation Fire Lance, a new war was declared, a war to end all wars. And with the economic investments being made, more countries entered the war. This wasn't a war being fought to build up a weaker country, but to gain wealth. War makes money, and with a global economy on the verge of collapsing with the rapid vanishing reserves of oil, war was all that could save the economy.
Armagedon is said to occur during a war of massive scale. A war that is not fought by armies, but by business men, and politicians around a desk. War, is no longer what it used to be, warfare is business. And the eight guardians, who had been sacrificed by the knife, knew this full well. Their souls cast into the bodies of eight beasts. Eight beasts who would awaken when the tribulations, and ceremonies were completed, with the sacrifice of human blood upon the folds of the paper it had been cast, blood that would run black, rich with the sins of man, that would thus deem themselves as a key to the end of all things.
"Takes us to the temple of Islam, and hurry." -Assad had said to the driver, who nodded in return, making way to the horrizon.
They say that greed can come in many forms, that power is what consumes the most. Manifesting itself as a thumb of circumstance in one's side that eventually drives them to hunger for the so called wealth in which they so desire. To either enrichen their lives, or makes others miserable. In either perspective, one can conclude that there is no evil, and no good. That there is no victim, and no hero. That both sides of a war ask a single question, Everyone is a hero, and everyone is a villian. -And no one knows whose the victim, and whose the aggresor... and what is peace? -All common questions asked about in every war in history. And with the blood of millions who have fallen, and the words that have maped the fate of an unchanging world, there can only be one answer... and it was spoken, through a dark room, a reflective knife laid flat upon a crest, light by candles, in a circle of ash that resembled a moon, ash that dimly reflected the light of the candles.
"Yehee- ol' might.... born from the fires that have forth-width, gave birth to the world, breathed in flames of wealth of a hot beginning... in your name, I have cursed humanity of sin, that on this neigh, I pledge myself to accept the ashes of a fiery, glorious ending.."
[/i][/center]He remained on his knees, soaked in a fluid that had condensed his body. -On his side, there lay an empty canister of oil, while on his left, there lay a three-piece candle stand, a knife that had never been touched, gazing up at the roof, where a dome revealed the history of the Islam faith, where a large hole alowed sunlight to pour down to the floor of the temple.
"YOU! -Are the messenger of the Gods! -Born of the high god! -Himself! You will know no limitations, no defeat, and no fear! -Born on this nigh, from the pits of darkness, shall you awaken in light! With the blood that makes the moon red..."
-He took the knife from the floor, the silver blade casting a blinding reflection as sunlight danced across it's edges and place it firmly along his wrist, watching his skin ripped as the blade sliced through his skin, and drove deep into the vein, where his life-blood bubbled, allowing it to trickle down his arm and onto the pages of the book, landing with a ripple upon the pages that seemed to thunder as though it were a storm.
"Take these sins that have been cast by the tyrany of men, who have thus, with vile hands that speak of war, and have desecrated this icon of earth, and cast them in a fiery, glorious ending. -To accept the hot wealth in which they have come. Awaken, the eight warriors of whom lay in rest, drive them from the oblivion in which they had been cast, and set them free to face the evil that has forever cast men into darkness, and write forthe the fate of an unchanging world!"
[/size][/i]He shouted as tears began to pour from his eyes, the blood flowing from his arm, to the book, where it rolled down to the crests, and onto the flooring, amongst the ash which resembled the moon.
"You work will suffice in all silence, time will slow down and everything precious will be lost. You are the god's messenger, born from the high god, from the fires of the great blessing. With my blood, and with my tears, I accept the gloy of a fiery glorious ending! -May truth be silenced, and sin cast from the world in which it was born, may words run across deaf ears, and may you ignore the pleading mercy of the progeny of the plague."
[/i][/size]He glanced down at the book, and then to the circle that he had confided himself, watching as the candles continued to flicker, watching as the blood circled around him, filling in the circle that he had made for himself, a grave that he, himself had dug... taking the candle in his hand, and rose it overhead, watching as the three flames began to dance in the ventilation that began to fill the area.
"For the end of all things, it must be so! -Born from the high god! -You will become the god's messenger! -You will carry out his will! -And you will see it done! Sin will be the price! Death will only be the beginning! -A ripple of change shall tear through the realms with a define rush of fury and vengense! -And through the darkness of the dead! -The eyes of the demon shall feast upon the fears of the spreading plague! -THERE WILL BE NO MERCY! -THE FIERY ENDING IS NOW UPON US! -DO SO CONDEMN THE FATE OF AN UNCHANGING WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!"
[/i][/size]With this scream, he released the candle, the golden brass reflecting the sunlight as it clattered to the floor with a crash, rippling through the sand as the blood-circle had been filled, and with a rush of wind, the oil expanded, consuming Assad Reheads body in a fury of flames that danced about his body, his scream tearing through the temple as his flesh began to char, and his eyes began to boil. And through the wind, the pages began to turn, and as though it were written upon by the a pen, words began to appear.
"Death, it's only the beginning... born of the high god, become the god's messenger. Take the image of a young maiden, all of whom is white, soft, and exemplas the figrance of a rich flower of earth. Cast upon the sinned true suffering, and for-told vengeanse, thus you shall watch as the fiery glorious ending ensues the world of the past, and begines a new. Born from the kindling spirit, are the eight, from the voices of the sin, and his sacrificed blood, to his greed of obtaining my fibers, shall you walk the earth in an eer of fate. The Fate of an unchanging world... awaken, you eight, and see to the will of the gods."
[/i][/size]