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05-08-2013, 05:45 PM | #1 |
Ranger
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Watertown, New York (home of the 10th MTN DIV)
Posts: 28
|
This was one of those times that Steeler wished he was still an armor officer. Sitting in the middle of a patrol base in a Florida Everglades swamp on top of a log didn’t affect him; soaked to the bones after living in the swamp waters for five days did not affect him. What affected him was sitting in his multi-cam FAST Helmet on the stump next to him less than a foot above the swamp water, his Meal Ready to Eat or MRE. It was cold, basically tasteless, unless his pal Outback provided him the Tabasco sauce from his own MRE, which with the new MREs did not look like Outback had one to give up. Even if they wanted to light up a fire to cook food, the flooded swamp that they sat in would not permit it. The food wasn’t created to dine on over a candlelit diner. It was for survival. That’s why he missed his tank. At least in his M-1 Abrams he could plug in a hot plate, or a coffee pot, and if worse came to worst he could use the built in MRE Heater. Here in the swamp he could not even do that because of the horrid chemical odor it emitted.
During the Invasion of Iraq in 2003, Steeler had banned the chemical heaters that came with MRE’s from being used by his tank crew. He hated the smell. The “poggie bait” that his tank crew had brought with them to Kuwait lasted them through the first month of the deployment. They shared it, but they were dumb, instead of saving the snack foods and junk foods and eating at the military dining facility known as the DFAC which was operated by their battalion, 1-64 Armor, they avoided the DFAC and ate through the snack foods. As the war kicked off, his tank crew, comprised of himself and three younger soldiers, had waited for hours in line of the AAFES trailer to fill up on more snack foods, but it was limited and as they waited to cross the border into Iraq finally, they had finished it off. His gunner made the mistake of being the first to start the MRE heater, which promptly lead to the main meal being tossed outside of the gunner’s hatch to pleas of “no” by the gunner and cheers of “yes” by the rest of the crew. It was not until the conclusion of the first Thunder Run into Baghdad that Steeler finally gave in and allowed them to use the chemical heaters again. Of course back then he was not Steeler. He was Second Lieutenant Ralph Pulaski, hailing from Pittsburg Pennsylvania. He grew up in the Shadyside neighborhood of the sprawling town, both of his parents were 2nd generation Polish immigrants, his father worked the steel mills and as an Assistant Head Coach for Shadyside Academy’s football team. His mother was a pre-school teacher revolving from school to school for many years. Steeler worked hard in school, got a job at 15 years old and worked even harder on the football field. He made the varsity team in football his sophomore year of high school as a 3rd string back up quarterback, and ended up earning the starting roll the following year after his final growth spurt pushing him from his lanky 5’11 frame to an even lankier 6’2 frame. His father pushed him hard in the weight room during his senior year and his success on the football field that year earned him a few different scholarships to various colleges and universities. All except the University of Pittsburg. Wanting to stay close to home, and attend the college that he had been a fan of for 18 years, Steeler applied for a ROTC scholarship at Pitt and walked onto the football team earning a spot as a training team linebacker. His sophomore year he earned a spot as a second string linebacker, where he had a “pick six” during a pre-season scrimmage against his current G.I.Joe teammate Grid-Iron. It wasn’t until his sophomore year that Steeler really started to enjoy his ROTC classes. Rotations to the M-16 range brought out a competitive edge with him, repelling courses started to intrigue him, but what really drew him in was the camaraderie. The 27 other students in the class at first saw him as an outsider, he was a varsity football player. He never showed up for the morning PT sessions in the fall during football season, and once the season was over, his physical conditioning propelled him to the top of the class. They would snicker though behind his back as he did not understand the “drill and ceremony” drills and commands as well as they did. It was not until the annual 12 mile road march that he started to fit in. As the ROTC class walked through downtown Pittsburg at an ungodly hour for most college students to even be awake, a classmate sprained his ankle and started to fall behind. Steeler grabbed the other student’s rucksack and walked with it for an additional mile, then acted as a crutch for the student until they reached the next rally point. Steeler became part of the team, and with that, and a long conversation with his father, he dropped football from his resume. Between his junior and senior year of college, Steeler’s ROTC commander made him a deal. He would get him a coveted slot to Ranger School, negating his need to go to the summer ROTC camp at Fort Lewis in Washington, but pass or fail, Steeler was going to have to step up and be the ROTC Cadet Battalion Commander the following year. He agreed and went to the 90 day course, graduating as the honor student while being a “leg” Ranger, following which he was given the opportunity to walk into Airborne School. The problem with airborne school was that it would not graduate until the second week of September. That was the first week of his college courses. Steeler called his ROTC Battalion Commander as well as his course advisor to ensure that it would be alright for him to miss the first week. “It will just be the syllabus for each class that I miss,” was his argument. Both commander and advisor agreed he would be ok missing the courses to complete the three week class. Airborne school was extended for one week though. Air traffic had been shut down from the 11th of September until the 13th, and though the jumps would occur from military aircraft, the Airborne school was having a hard time getting aircraft to support the lower priority missions like Airborne School. Once he returned, his ROTC Battalion Commander thought Steeler was crazy when he wanted to get assessed as an Armor officer. “Do you know how cramped a turret of a tank is? You are six feet plus man!” Steeler did not care. He had sat with an armor NCO on fire guard during Ranger school and listened to all of his glorious stories. The NCO’s military operational specialty was 19D or Scout. He had started off his career as a 19K. Two specialties the NCO had referred to as “Deltas” and “Kilos”. Steeler wanted to be the “Alpha”. He went through the assessment, and on the day the decisions were made, the ROTC Battalion Commander lined the cadets up in the hallway. One by one he went down the hall, stopping in front of them and announcing their last name, army component and then branch. He stopped infront of Steeler. “Pulaski, immediate active duty, DAT!” Steeler blinked, looking at his ROTC battalion commander. “Dumb Ass Tanker!” his commander exclaimed. Steeler’s first assignment after his officer’s basic course was with 1st Battalion, 64th Armor Regiment, assigned to 1st Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division, where he reported to a unit preparing for war. Kuwait was a nerve racking bore, but crossing the Line of Departure into Iraq was where he got recognized and on the Thunder Run’s was where he got recruited. At the conclusion of the second Thunder Run, a Special Forces Lieutenant Colonel by the name of Abernathy sat and ate dinner with him. He discussed the “glories” of being a Special Forces Officer. Steeler dropped his “SF packet” with his Battalion S1, and after sailing through the selection process, excelled in the Qualification course. He attended the infantry officer captain’s career course, and once he got to the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California was where he joined the G.I.Joe team recruited by a newly minted Colonel Abernathy. That’s how he now found himself soaking wet, cold, and eating despicable MRE’s in the Florida Everglades with his current mission set conducting a “reconnoiter”, as his Australian SASR exchange officer Outback would call it, of potential arms smugglers moving equipment through the swamps to the mainland. “You got any Tabasco?” Steeler asked Outback as his teammate sat on a stump across from them. Outback filtered through the bag that the MRE came in and shook his head, “Nah mate, the only thing I got in here is a red pepper packet.” He held up the small white pouch that held the flaming hot shavings. “Might make a trip to the latrine a howl though.” Steeler chuckled, “I am good man. Thanks though.” “Yeah, no problem,” Outback said taking off his own FAST helmet and putting it on the closet stump poking out of the water. “Just checked them out up there,” he said tearing open the packet for the main meal of the MRE with his teeth. “They got a good view of the estuary. No dry spots to put out any sensors though.” Steeler took a spoonful of his “Spanish rice”, made a sour face and aimed the tube of his hydration pack to the packet and poured. “I figured,” he said stirring the rice with the provided spoon. “I think this estuary is too far out of the way. Intel back at the PIT though suggests otherwise.” He shrugged, and then added, “I never really thought of Florida as a miserable place, but it is turning out to be one of the most miserable places I have ever been in.” Outback laughed. “Yeah, there ain’t nothing at home like this place. I can’t even fathom another place that we could be deployed to that was this wet.” He paused tearing off a piece of the “beef patty” with his teeth. “I suppose if we were stationed in the middle of the Atlantic it might be this wet, but this stuff is for the SBS boys and SEALs. We’re supposed to be above it mate. Though you ever been to Orlando during Spring Break?” Steeler laughed and shook his head in the negative, his mouth was filled with his new wet rice concoction. “Yeah, my folks took me there when I was a young gun. It was the most miserable experience of my life. Long lines. Heat.” Outback shook his head. “I am surprised you made it out of there alive,” Steeler said. “My sister and I had been poking at my folks to take us there, and they promised they would. I waited and waited for it, finally getting the opportunity to when I was 15. My sister was,” he paused doing the math “10 I guess? It was a hit for her. Not so much for me though. I had grown out of it.” He laughed, his smile hidden behind his red beard. “I wish I hadn’t been so unappreciative back then, ya know?” Steeler nodded, “I get that.” He stirred his rice slowly and then ate it. Outback took off his green bandana that was wrapped around his forehead and wrung it out, droplets of water and sweat ran evenly into the water. He then rewrapped it around his forehead and tied it behind his head, his red hair flopping out of it over the sides. “You gonna get some rack?” “If I can find a log long enough to sleep on,” Outback said looking around after tearing into his meat patty again. “Alright,” Steeler said “I’ll stay up and take radio watch for a bit.” He took off his multicam boonie cap and put his Peltor headset on. Outback stood taking off his khaki London Bridge plate carrier and set it on the stump hung over his FAST helmet. He only had on a tight “Earth” colored wicker wet T-Shirt underneath and his Australian camouflage patterned pants. “I think I found myself a log,” Outback said quietly and made his way through the knee high water to it. Steeler moved to the stump that had his helmet on it and donned it, keeping it unbuckled, he was able to lean his back against the stump he had been sitting on and place his feet on a submerged stump which kept his heels above water. His SCAR-L, which was equipped with an EOTech box scope was slung across his chest. He wore a multi-cam CRYE precision G3 Combat pants and combat shirt with tan knee and elbow inserts. His plate carrier was identical to Outback’s but the same multi-cam pattern as his clothes. His FAST Helmet had a multi-cam camouflaged helmet cover on it. He looked exactly the same as his teammates Sneak Peek and Crazy Legs, Outback however were camouflaged differently. After an hour of pure silence except for the noises of the creatures in the Everglades, his radio broke squelch. “Lima team, Lima Team, this is Homebase.” “This is Lima Team,” Steeler said “Go for Steeler.” “Steeler, this is Mainframe,” the voice on the other end said “weather is expected to continue to deteriorate. Temperatures are going to drop 20 to 25 degrees overnight. Risk to hypothermia has increased by 70 percent. Cutter is going to begin movement to extract you at extraction point Hotel at 2130 hours. Collapse your perimeter, move to extraction point. ISR will maintain surveillance on the waterways until determined that you are going to re-insert. Over,” Mainframe concluded. Steeler withdrew his map and looked at his position and Extraction Point Hotel’s location. It was a nine kilometer movement that they would have to accomplish in two and a half hours, the last hour and a half in darkness. “Acknowledge all and WILCO Mainframe. Over.” “ISR will move in front of you and pass you imagery through your ROVER feed to ensure your path is clear. Do you require any other assets? Over.” Mainframe asked again. Steeler thought for a moment. “Negative, we should have all we need. We will proceed to Extraction Point Hotel in the next five minutes. When will ISR be on station? Over.” “ISR will be on station in the next five minutes. Do you have any NAI’s you want them to look at? Over.” “Roger, have them scout a path forward of our position. If they find anything come back up on the net. I don’t want to walk around in the dark with my ROVER feed illuminating our position of screwing with my night vision. Unless you determine something is along our route, then put it over Extraction Point Hotel and get a pattern of life. I will contact you once we are a click and a half out to get your read on it. Over.” “Not a problem Steeler. I will let you know if anything pops up. Anything else man? Over.” “Nope. Not at this time Mainframe, we will be stepping off in five. Lima Team out.” There was silence in the swamp as Steeler switched the toggle of the radio over to his team internal net. “Alright guys, you heard the last call. We are moving out. Sneak Peak, you will lead us out, Outback follows, I am in the middle and Crazy Legs has trail. Any questions?” His team all replied in the sequence he had just given them in the negative. “Alright, pack up, we move in four minutes now.” Extraction Point Hotel was an abandoned fishing camp located along an estuary feeding from and to Ponce de Leon Bay. Lima Team was on time when they arrived a click and a half out of the extraction point. Steeler knew Cutter would have piloted the team hovercraft at full throttle until this moment and letting back only for this radio call. “Homebase this is Lima Team. Over.” Steeler said into his boom mike. “Lima Team, this is Home Base, go for Mainframe.” “Roger, we have arrived at our rally point. Any update from the ISR feed? Over.” “Negative, the camp looks abandon, no sign of life around it what so ever. Handing you off to the Whale team now. Over.” “Roger that Mainframe, break,” Steeler paused “Whale Team this is Lima Team over.” With his thick Boston accent, Cutter replied “Lima Team, Whale Team, go for Cutter. Over.” “Roger Cutter, this is Steeler. We have arrived at our rally point, we are 15 minutes out, moving forward to clear the extraction point at this time. Don’t take your sweet ass time getting here. Over.” Steeler said, the rest of his team which was laying in a 360 degree circle around him chuckled. “Roger Steeler, drawing in our fishing lines at this time,” Cutter replied which drew another chuckle from Lima Team, even Steeler was smiling. “We are coming in fast at this time. See you in fifteen minutes. Over.” “Roger. I can see your stupid hat from here. See you in one five mikes. Steeler out.” Sneak Peak did not even wait for Steeler’s order, he picked up from his position and began movement. Outback followed right after him and the other two men fell into position. As they closed in on the fishing cabin they had to cross an open area with a stream. There was an open area from the stream bed to the cabin. The team automatically began spreading out with Outback on the left of Sneak Peak, Steeler on the right, and Crazy Legs completing the diamond pattern scanning the rear while walking backwards. “Clear the building?” Outback asked. “Negative,” Steeler said “No one is here.” He could hear the roar of the twin high output SCS-50 diesel engines propelling the big fans behind the hovercraft. “Two minutes out,” it was Cutter’s voice coming in on the Lima Teams frequency. “Roger two minutes out, have your port gun trained on the building. Low threat, but we didn’t clear it. Over.” “Got it, getting lazy huh?” Cutter replied. Steeler smirked and then said in the loudest voice he had in the two weeks of sneaking around the Everglades. “Alright, move out. Crazy Legs, and Outback, keep your guns trained on the cabin until we are loaded.” With that they begin to move smoothly, in a hurried walk, all guns were up with their eyes trained through the scopes at their sector. “One minute out,” Cutter said. The noise of the hovercraft was overwhelming, all men peered through their night vision goggles at the large boat coming closer, Cutter had turned on the inferred running lights illuminating the boat for the men with the night devices. Cutter’s gunner on the port side gunner Deep Six kept his dual .50 caliber machine gun pointed at the cabin, while the starboard side gunner Top Side kept his MK-19 40mm grenade launcher aimed pointed directly to the tree line. Cutter tossed a line to Sneak Peak who quickly wrapped it around the dock, pulling the large craft as close as possible. The fans on the back cut and the boat sank on it’s large Kevlar meshed cushion into the water. Outback jumped onto the deck first, followed by Crazy Legs and Sneak Peek. Steeler jumped on last after taking the rope from Sneak Peek and making sure all his men were accounted for and on the hovercraft. “We are green to green Cutter,” Steeler said still speaking into his boom. The rest of Lima Team went down into the cabin and took their seats while Steeler made his way up into the flying bridge. “I would have bought you a towel,” Cutter said as the huge vessel lurched to the starboard sending a wave of water down the estuary. He grinned at his friend and looked over at him. Steeler and Cutter had a little rivalry. Cutter came from Boston and was a die hard Boston sports fan. He wore his loyalty to his teams on his sleeve, even now during the pick up of Steeler’s team he wore his old tattered Boston Red Sox hat. In the past, command had told him to remove it during operations, but Cutter insisted on wearing it for luck. The one time he did not wear it, Hawk had been on board the WHALE and it turned into a dicey operation which the WHALE had sunk. In the emergency raft Cutter swore up and down to Hawk that it had been a result of him not wearing his hat. Hawk had finally given in and allowed him to wear the hat. Cutter had joined the Coast Guard right out of high school. His fondness for Boston area pro-sport teams developed when he was at the Coast Guard Academy in New London, Connecticut. After his initial four years serving on the United States Coast Guard Cutter Vigorous, Cutter joined the Navy entering as a Special Warfare Combatant Craft Crewmen or SWCC. Cutter spent another four years on Special Boat Team 20 before he was recruited on to the G.I.Joe team of which he was now a two year veteran of the team at the age of 28. Cutter pushed forward on the accelerator and the WHALE responded with its dual fans powered by the SCS-50 engines roared. The noise would have been absolutely deafening if both teams were not wearing their Peltor radio headsets which dampened the noise and allowed the team to talk. The WHALE responded like a sports car in the water as Cutter ensured the throttle was pushed forward and he worked around the bends and turns of the estuary, but unlike a speedboat, which would lift at the increase of speed, the hovercraft remained flat skimming on top of the water. It still created a large wake though behind it and considerable spray from the large diesel fans, all which slammed into the sides of the estuary and disappeared into the swamps. “Whale team this is Home Base,” the SATCOM radio crackled to life. “Home Base, this is Whale Team, go for Cutter,” the skipper of the WHALE spoke. “Roger Cutter, it’s Mainframe,” the voice on the other end responded, “we had an interesting request come through for you.” There was a pause and then Mainframe continued. “The Coast Guard has received a distress call, which they think there was gunfire reported in the background. It is beyond the three mile international waters, so there is no issue with posse comitatus and the Navy can respond. We are 30 minutes out and can launch, the nearest Coast Guard vessel is an hour and a half away, but you guys are about 15 minutes out. Can Steeler’s team handle a VBSS task?” Cutter looked at Steeler. “What do you think? Have you guys done visit, board, search and seizure tasks lately?” Steeler smirked at Cutter. “It was on next weeks training docket.” Both of them laughed. “Let me switch out Sneak Peak and Crazy Legs for Deep Six and Top Side and we should be ok.” Cutter nodded. “Home Base, this is Whale team.” “Go ahead Cutter,” Mainframe said. “Roger, just want to get approval for the boarding party to be Steeler, Outback, Deep Six and Top Side,” Cutter asked. There was a short pause. “That is approved. We are launching another WHALE Team for support, they should arrive fifteen minutes after you have boarded. We have launched a REAPER to provide pattern of life on the boat and then overwatch you. It is armed and will give you about five minutes of pattern of life prior to your arrival. Release authority for its weapons are Admiral Keel Haul and he will be on the bridge monitoring you.” “Roger, good copy.” Below deck the Top Side and Deep Six were already below switching out equipment. Outback turned on the ROVER feed that Sneak Peek had been carrying and was waiting for the UAV to get on station, currently the camera was focused on the horizon and not looking down until it got over the objective area. Sneek Peek and Crazy Legs were helping get their teammates geared up, taking direction for the newly equipped men who were more familiar with the hovercraft. “We need a boarding ladder which is under that seat,” Deep Six was yelling over the sound of the roaring fans as Sneek Peek dug it out. “The grappling hook and launcher are also under there, just in case.” “Yo!” Outback yelled, “it looks like there is a descent gunfight going on here.” The REAPER had gotten on station and it’s camera was looking directly down. There was a large yacht, with two smaller craft on the port side of it. “Pirates?” Top Side asked, as he hovered closer to the screen, “out here?” Outback shrugged in response. Steeler dropped into the cabin from the flying bridge. “Crazy Legs and Sneek Peek man the guns. Cover the railings we are five minutes out.” Steeler was speaking into the boom mic and the message was carried into the Peltor headsets. “Gents, we are approaching on the starboard side of the vessel, close to the stern. It is the easiest place to board. Crazy Legs is on the MK 19. He is going to fire smoke onto the deck to cover our climb onto the boat. We are going up two axis. The ladder and the grappling hook. The ladder is going up last, once attached to the boat the WHALE is going to pull back.” Outback interrupted “it looks like this is one helluva fire fight up there.” Steeler looked and cringed. |
05-08-2013, 05:48 PM | #2 |
Ranger
Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Watertown, New York (home of the 10th MTN DIV)
Posts: 28
|
“Alright, the shooting is occurring close to the bridge. No clue who is up front or what they are trying to do. This could be pirates. It could be drug dealers. I don’t know or care.”
“Two minutes out,” Cutter interrupted. “I am going to start the message in thirty seconds.” Steeler speed up “Top Side, you are point going up the grappling hook with Outback. Deep Six, you are first up the ladder with me.” All men gave Steeler the thumbs up and then started to move out of the cabin to the deck. “This is the United States Navy, keep your engines on idle and prepare to be boarded.” Cutter spoke into a microphone and a sound system blasted it at the loudest decibel possible, again the Peltor headsets cut the noise out for the entire crew. “I say again, this is the United States Navy, keep your…” Cutter was cut off. Gunfire erupted from the starboard side of the cabin of the yacht. At least two rifles were flashing their response to Cutter’s message. Cutter ducked down behind the reinforced steel of the flying bridge as rounds bounced around. “Fire!” Cutter yelled. Sneek Peek pressed down on the butterfly trigger of the dual .50 caliber machine guns and a hail of half inch plus in diameter bullets pounded through the fiberglass of the boat tearing through the assailants. The nine second barrage of fire ceased the attack coming from the bow of the yacht. Crazy Legs arched his MK 19 aiming it and with a much quieter launch fired three white smoke rounds onto the stern of the boat which began to plume immediately. Cutter turned the WHALE sharply so that Sneek Peek could still aim at the bridge of the yacht where the fire came from and headed to the predetermined boarding points. As soon as they were close Top Side launched the grappling hook which landed with a thud on the deck of the yacht, he pulled it taut, hopping it would catch as it would take a while to re-spool the launcher and fire it again. It caught easily on the side of the boat to which Outback gave it a firm tug and gave a thumbs up to Top Side. The former Navy SEAL stepped off of the hovercraft and began ascending to the top of the yacht. As soon as he reached the top he pointed his silenced MP5 submachine gun across the deck of the yacht, propping himself up with his elbows and standing on a pre-tied knot. As soon as Outback was on the rope climbing up the prettied knots Cutter pushed forward so that the other boarding team could hang the ladder, hooks at the top of it went easily over the side of the yacht and suction cups attached the ladder the rest of the way to the fiberglass hull. Deep Six and Steeler were climbing up the ladder with their weapons slung. As soon as Deep Six got to the top, he called out over the boom mic “Set”. Simultaneously, Deep Six and Top Side boarded onto the ship followed by Outback and Steeler. Smoke still billowed from the 40mm grenades on the deck of the yacht that Crazy Legs had pumped on to the deck. “This is Cutter, I am swinging the WHALE around to the port side of the yacht now, Sneek Peek is covering your advance,” Cutter said into his boom mic. “I see nothing on the ROVER feed. We might have gotten all of them.” Steeler’s ad hoc team continued to press forward. Deep Six and Top Side both had their silenced MP5’s aimed in front of them while Steeler followed directly behind the Naval Commandos. Outback followed behind moving almost backwards to cover their rear with his Hk-416. All four men had their night vision goggles down, illuminating their eye sockets in a hue of green. “Contact front,” Deep Six whispered, “weapon,” he finished. The two silenced weapons coughed out three rounds apiece, the first four striking the man in the chest and the last two splitting his head open as the 9mm rounds erupted. The force of the rounds hitting the body made him jerk around until the last two hit his head and forced him away from Steeler’s team, but as soon as the body hit the floor the boat erupted in a symphony of gunfire. “Contact rear!” Outback shouted before his Hk-416 began firing. He was trading rounds with a man armed with an AK-47. There was no cover on the boat to stop 5.56, 7.62 or the 9mm rounds being fired. Pieces of fiberglass splintered around the team as they took contact from the rear and the upper deck of the yacht. Below, Sneak Peek peered through his own night vision goggles at the blinking inferred strobes of his teammates on the yacht. As the gunfire erupted he was concerned that he would lose the fidelity he had on their location on the yacht. Finally he identified the threat on the upper deck aimed and fired his .50 caliber dispatching that threat. The fighter that Outback was facing disappeared as soon as the heavy weapon below opened up on his friends on the upper deck. “Give me an up,” Steeler said. “Top Side, Good!” “Outback,” there was long deliberate breathing “I took a few,” another breath “rounds to my plates, not sure yet.” T here was a pause as Steeler moved back to Outback, “Deep Six, good.” Outback had sunk to a sitting position, his hands were off his weapon and he was checking himself as Steeler made it to his teammate. “Backing up,” Steeler said grabbing Outback by his shoulder straps and dragging him out of the kill zone. “You got hit man, let me check you.” He could see bleeding coming from Outback’s thigh, blood also was matting his beard. Steeler found cover behind a jet ski at the stern of the boat. “I am fine,” Outback said, disappointment in his voice. Top Side and Deep Six had formed a perimeter in front of the jet ski as Steeler tended to his friend. “Want us to push forward and clear the top deck?” Top Side asked. Steeler thought about it for a moment. “Find out what ISR sees on the top deck.” “This is Cutter, there is no movement on the top deck at all. I think there is one tango left on the boat.” Steeler looked up at Deep Six and Top Side who were still scanning the deck over the tops of their rifles. “Go ahead. If you face increased pressure, fall back or dial up support from Cutter.” “Got it,” Top Side said and both began moving forward. Steeler knelt beside Outback and put his hand under his friends vest. The wicker wet material of his T-Shirt was soaked and he could not determine if it was blood or not. When he pulled his hand free he did not see any blood residue. Steeler then tore away Outback’s pants so he could see the wound on his thigh. “Hey this is our first date,” Outback said weakly. Steeler smirked and flipped up his night vision goggles as well as Outback’s and turned on a white light. He reached into Outback’s first aide pouch and pulled out gauze, wiping away some of the blood. He looked down onto the wound as fresh bright red blood pumped back into the wound. “I ain’t a doc man, but you might have some arterial bleeding.” Steeler said outloud to his friend, the boom mic caught the conversation. “This is Cutter, want me to spin up a MEDEVAC and a hoist?” “Roger,” Steeler replied as he pulled out the quick clot from Outback’s first aide pouch. He looked at his friend in the eyes and was about to tell him how this was going to burn. “I know,” Outback said. “I’ll take it like a man.” Steeler smiled and tore open the package, than liberally he dumped the packet onto the wound. Outback grimaced, he inhaled and exhaled quickly some of which sounded like a soft growl of an animal. “This is Cutter, MEDEVAC is seven minutes out,” the Skipper said. “Wild Bill is pushing the envelope.” “Looks like you get to dry off first,” Steeler said to Outback as he applied the Israeli bandage. “Great,” Outback said sarcastically, his eyes closed. “Give me a SITREP,” Steeler said to the two SEALs who were clearing the upper deck. “No contact at this time. We have found two tango bodies on the top floor, five victims of the tangos so far. Making our way to the bridge. No contact at this time.” “Roger,” Steeler said. He peered down to recheck the wound on Outback. “God I hope I was not too hasty on that quick clot.” “You ain’t a Doc. Not putting it on now would cost me my life if you didn’t.” Outback said. “I woulda done the same thing to you mate.” “We are about to kiss aren’t we?” Steeler joked. “Yeah we are getting a bit chummy,” Outback said. Steeler flipped off his white light and both men lowered their night vision goggles. “Might as well make myself useful and provide security.” Outback rolled onto his stomach and propped his weapon up. His elbows became a bipod for his rifle and he rested his cheek on the stock aiming down through the square EOTech scope. “This is Wild Bill, I am two minutes out partners, how do you want me to play this?” “Steeler here, if you give the boat a wide berth to get to the stern, I will pop smoke. Lower the hoist and I will strap Outback on. Start to raise the hoist and as soon as he is clear of the deck I will let you know. You can begin to move away from the boat.” “Alright, the hoist is out. Lifeline is on the basket and can help you.” Steeler could hear the whine of the twin rotor helicopter and pulled two smoke grenades from his pouch. He made sure the wind was not going to blow the smoke directly back at him and tossed the grenades out far enough to conceal the helicopter. A few more seconds later Lifeline was dangling above Steeler, lowering slowly. “Can you stand?” Lifeline yelled through his own boom mic overcompensating. Outback slowly rose with Steeler’s help and stood still as a harness was wrapped around him. As soon as he was clipped into the basket with Lifeline, the medic said “bring us up!” The hoist began to rise, Steeler watched their feet closely. “Clear of the deck!” He said into his boom mic, and the medic and his Australian friend disappeared into the darkness off of the stern of the boat. Once the helicopter wash was complete, Steeler got into the prone and scanned his surroundings. He suddenly felt very alone. “SITREP guys,” he said. “Steeler, I was about to call an all clear here. The bridge is clear. Looks like there was a high profile party going on. Whoever was on the boat dumped all of the cabins, killed all of the occupants on the boat. We are tracking four tangos killed. One to two remaining. A total of sixteen civilians killed. We are photographing them now. The boats name is Anastasia.” “Roger,” Steeler said “Cutter, can I get a SITREP out there?” “This is Cutter. We can’t see any movement on the boat, we are on the port side. It looks like two armed fan boats on the side that the boarding party used to get to the boat. They are swamp cruisers though. Not sure what they are doing all the way out here, but they gotta be some bad boned drivers to use a swamp boat to get out here. UAV is still on station over you. No movement detected. The other WHALE is about ten mikes out. Coast Guard is an hour and a half away still. We will secure the boat until they get here and turn the scene over to them. Over.” “Roger Cutter. Outback has been hoisted out. I am not moving while Deep Six and Top Side are forward, so I have a command post established at the rear of the boat. I will keep this point secure until the other WHALE gets here and the team can use the bow to come aboard.” “Sounds good,” Cutter said. “Break, break, break. This is Keel Haul. AWACs has picked up two bogies on the radar. They look like they are fast boats similar to what drug runners use. They are approaching the starboard side of the vessel. I am transitioning the UAV over there to get a better look, but they are moving fast.” “This is Cutter, moving to the starboard side now to intercept.” Steeler could hear the roar of the dual fans on the hovercraft roaring to life. It seemed like radio discipline went out the window in the next five minutes. “This is Keel Haul, they are increasing speed astronomically! It looks like they are hydrofoils! Torpedoes in the water. I say again ‘torpedoes in the water’!” “What?” Steeler exclaimed, he fought the urge to go to the side of the boat and look. “I’ll avoid them!” Cutter said. “Negative, they are heading for the yacht! Get off that boat!” Keel Haul was screaming into the headset. Steeler looked to his left and right. “We are going off the port side!” Deep Six yelled onto the team channel. Steeler looked around and started to rush to the port side as well. He quickly removed his helmet and dropped his weapon on the boat, his hand was on the emergency release of his plate carrier. “Keep your vests on and sink until you feel the concussion from the detonation. Hold your mouths open so you avoid a concussion!” Cutter was yelling on the comm. Channel. Two YU-7 Chinese torpedoes tore into through the hull of the yacht and detonated a split second after it impacted on the yacht. The force of the 200 pound blast devastated the starboard side of the yacht and split the boat in half. The second explosion was the spectacular fireball that occurred once the gasoline in the yacht ignited. Steeler leapt of the boat and the blast concussion caused him to flail in the air. Instead of landing feet first into the water, his body hit at a 90 degree angle, feet and face first, then his body began to sink. He pulled on the emergency release of his plate carrier and let if fall to the bottom of the ocean. Disoriented he opened his eyes and felt the bubbles from his mouth going over his face, so he started swimming upwards. A huge spotlight was on the water. Once he broke to the surface of the water he took a gasp for air and felt his lungs fill with beloved oxygen. “Steeler!” Cutter was yelling. “Steeler!” He took another deep breath. “Over here!” The spot light shined right on him. “Kill the lights! The fast boats!” “They broke contact. They weren’t after us!” Cutter yelled back. Crazy Legs stood on the bow of the hovercraft and tossed Steeler a circular life preserver. Steeler wrapped his arm around the life saver and Crazy Legs started to pull him on board. “Well that was sporty,” Cutter said as he helped pull his friend onto the hovercraft. Steeler coughed and spit out some of the salt water taste in his mouth. “I guess we can knock off the VBSS training next week.” |
05-10-2013, 01:32 PM | #3 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
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Very cool. Nice tactical detail, and interesting development of Steeler, plus Cutter and Outback. I look forward to seeing how they piece things together post-Anastasia.
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