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03-13-2012, 01:59 PM | #51 |
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Beach Head was one of the hardest, meanest, take no shit, sons a bitches that ever graced the roster of GI Joe. He had bounced around from nonexistant task force to task force and had a storied career in special operations before they pitched him.
As a former Ranger, he never lost the discipline and bearing that many operators swear off as a token of conventional forces, rather he used as it core component which he built on and instilled in others, as one of the primary instructors at what probate joes called "the Pit". Beachhead had just finished putting the aforementioned selectees assigned to the "Steel Brigade", through a morning of pure Hell. While they were at the DFAC enjoying a brief respite from the days unforgiving training schedule, he decided to pay Duke a visit and give a SITREP on the recruits, all of whom had spent the last 6 months under his scrutiny weeding out the week and unwilling. Beach Head belived they were ready for the real thing and from the intel coming out of the headshed, shit was about to pop off. Stripping off the OD Green baklava that hid his face from the selectees as he entered the CP, his intense eyes fell on Chuckles as Duke's voice thundered behind the closed door to his office. "That kind of morning huh?" Beach Head asked in his typical gruff monotone. Chuckles sat up and sighed, he looked like shit and Beach Head told him as much. "Yeeeah" Chuckles managed, with a disheartened demeanor. "They got Flint, Beach...Cobra got him". "Chuckles..." Beach Head drew nearer and his intensity increased "are you telling me you RTB'd without chief?" "Beach listen..." Chuckles pleaded, he didnt need another trigger puller second guessing his decision, these guys didnt grab order of effects as readily as intel folk, and it was hard to make em understand when the shit gets personal "Flint stands a good chance of making it out of there without Cobra knowing we're hip to their shit; he waived me off for that very reason!" "So you had a chance to put a snake in the ground and egress, WITH Flint, and you didnt?! ...Chuckles, Duke is gonna put both boots in your ass and dance son, then when your done sob'n that off, come see me; I'm gonna want intel for a personnel recovery contingent, and you were eyes on the objective". Beach Heads empty expression was unsettling as he slowly shook his head. "Tell Duke I'm war gaming solutions and need to see you ASAP!" "Wilco" Chuckles replied, choosing not to argue it. He'd make em understand, but he'd get Duke on board first, at least he better! Beach Head departed overwhelmed, "Jeezez fuggn Christ Chuckles"! Last edited by Viper6; 06-26-2012 at 12:17 PM.. |
03-14-2012, 11:05 AM | #52 |
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Location: second amendment hell
Posts: 3,059
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updated, enjoy!
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03-14-2012, 01:26 PM | #53 |
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Location: second amendment hell
Posts: 3,059
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Revised the recent post, more to follow.
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03-14-2012, 02:19 PM | #54 |
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If a Crimson Guard Officer was the epitome of professionalism and excellence within Cobra's ranks, Major Sebastian Bludd was the antithesis!
He was a mercenary through and through, uncultured, uncivilized, unkempt and uncaring. He sat reclined, resting on the rear legs of an ornate high back chair, suspended as such by his scuffed boots which rested next to the dented helmet on the well polished glassy surface of the table reserved for senior staff like himself. The helmet was idnetical to that worn by Cobras standard Infantry, save for its flat black finish. Major Bludd was more of a Field Marshal for Cobra's ever expanding paramilitary interests, but having once held that rank in what was rumored to be the SAS, he never abandoned it. He was a man in his mid fourties, with angular features and a weather worn face, scarred from a history of violence. Typical of many Brits, he was loud, boistrous, and had bad teeth, his eye patch made him look all the more intimidating. His hands were interlaocked behind his head of dishevled and dirty black hair, completing his relaxed and indifferent appearance. Of particular interest were the mass of dog tags which he wore about his neck, rumor had it they were those ripped from fallen enemies, of which there must have been a lot. Another curiousity was his high tech prosthetic, allegedly provided by MARS industries a known business associate of the Arbco defense contract coorporation which served as a shell company for Cobra around the world. Bludd had lost the arm by way of a machette somewhere in south Africa and nearly died; apparently a history of savage murder, rape, and pillaging had caught up with him at one point. Bludd wore a Desert Eagle .50 in a well worn leg holster and had a blacked out Sykes Fairbairn in his boot, his trademark blade. He was known to be masterfully proficient with both. A CG stood behind him, and as far as the Major was concerned the Crimson Clad Guardsman was his honor guard and attendant, but in reality the CG was assigned as the first line of defense... should the mercenery commander ever decide to act against Cobra's interest. "Be a sport, and inquire after the Commander's timeline...I cant be waitn ere all the damn morn'n now!" Bludd asked in accent akin to England but obscured by his travels. "ay... n' filler up, I'm falln asleep ere I am" the Major laughed to himself, the joke lost on the Guardsman as he glared through his visor at Bludd who was shaking his empty thermos cup...the CG secretly wished the Major fall from the chair and break his fucking neck; In the mind of a CG Bludd was an afront to military tradition and professional soldiering. The massive double wooden doors opened and Anastasia strutted in throwing her arms out in an overbearing gesture of welcome, the twins followed at some distance behind her "Sabastian....I'm pleased you could make it, how fortuitous dahling!" Bludd whistled and righted himself, standing to meet the Baroness in a pretend embrace, with her head on his shoulder she rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose to the comedic relief of the CG who now stood at attention awaiting the appropriate pause to execute his orders. "If it isnt the Paoli brothers?" Bludd grinned as he let his grip on the baroness slip, stealing a glance at her curves before giving the twins his attention "If life allows mates, perhaps we've a chance to discuss something of a most mutual benefit in advance of our scheduled meet'n, eh?" Tomax took a deep breath but was interrupted by the more cordial Xamot who stepped forward to shake hands with the Major "Perhaps some, Major, do undertsand we are here..." "On other business" Tomax firmly finsihed. Last edited by Viper6; 03-20-2012 at 09:07 AM.. |
03-15-2012, 10:41 AM | #55 |
Hisstank.Com General
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bump
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03-19-2012, 02:00 PM | #56 |
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Jana sobbed into the phone, she'd kept so much inside for so long. It wasnt suppossed to be like this.
"and he's never home anymore Mom, he keeps such strange hours it just cant be his clients, there has to be someone else, some other woman or women...I just know it!" "Oh...dont jump to conclusions Jana, sweetheart, Rick has a very demanding career, Ive seen you two together, and while maybe not recently, I know he loves you very much dear." Janas mother tried her best to comfort her. "He just seems so distant, so cold and quite all the time, its not like it was" she continued to sob and explained that she discovered him about to kill himself, she knew it seemed far fetched but thats certainly what it seemed like. Of course she tried to convince Jana she must be mistaken but there was no changing her mind. "Well dear, have you thought about leaving him...has it ever crossed your mind?" Jana didnt know a good way to say it or ieven if she should but her emotion got the best of her "I'm pregnant Mom, okay!?" "Oh!....oh dear, ok, ok, well honey look, things will work out, things will be alright, maybe just give him some time, or take a vacation..." she felt powerless to improve upon her daughters distress. "Mom, I dont know what to do." she said desperately lighting yet another cigarette. "You know what, I know Mrs Anderson's boy is or was an investigator of some sort, he could maybe allieviate your concerns about rick's running around, if you want I can get you his number?" "No! dont do that Rick would never forgive me, oh what if it is nothing? I just dont know!" "Honey, he'd never even know... and it sounds like you need at least some peace of mind, if youre going to be a mother, youre certainly going to need to know that much if youre going to even consider staying and working this out; let me atleast look in on it, God knows we've been good to the Andersons." Jana didnt like it, but she didnt know what else to do, relectuantly and meekly she replied "Ok." "Alright dear, I'll make some calls...you just take care of you. Get some rest and try torelax; lets get some information first and then if everthings okay, we'll see what else." "Mom...do you really think maybe it can be alright?" "I hope so jana, I sincerely hope so honey." "Thanks Mom" the words stuck in her throat as she fought back more tears at the feeling of betraying her husband who maybe was a faithful and loving husband, incapable of sharing his feelings or suffering some unkown affliction. "I love you!" "I love you too sweety, I'll talk to you soon." Last edited by Viper6; 03-19-2012 at 05:43 PM.. |
03-19-2012, 02:25 PM | #57 |
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While the team of televipers were busy researching flight plans, back tracking airtraffic, and reviewing their satelite overlays to determine the origin and activities of an usual aircraft in the vicintiy of their offsite parking center; another of their colleagues summoned a CG to his terminal.
"Sir?" He asked with uncertainity "we have suspect telephone traffic from a not further identified Cobra personnel residence...I tried to pull the file Sir, its flagged as restricted!" As the CG observed the monitor which mirrored the televipers visor view, a pop up provided a coded message unintelligible to the televiper but well known to the Guardsman. "Close it out" the CG ordered as he stood there contemplating the incident "Speak of this to no one." "Understood' the televiper confirmed as the window vanished. The "Black" phone was already ringing in Robinson's office as the Guardsman proceeded to his own desk, at the back of the room. Whatever urgent matter was at hand would have to wait until his chief returned from the brief; even if he knew his boss's combination, he wasnt about to answer THIS call! Last edited by Viper6; 03-21-2012 at 09:06 AM.. |
03-20-2012, 02:18 AM | #58 |
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Bump!!!
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The great sword sheathed Glitters brightly in the dark Unseen and at rest - Budo |
03-21-2012, 09:08 AM | #59 |
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updated the previous post with more on the way later today!
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03-21-2012, 03:56 PM | #60 |
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A gloved hand hung up the handset with controlled anger after the line to Rick Robinsons' office rang endlessly for the better part of two minutes. The black phones were installed at every Senior CG officer's location and were used to communicate exclusively with the covert component of the Crimson Guard Corps; the Shadow Guard. The exploits of the Shadow Guard, Cobra’s Secret Police, were only spoken of in whispers; infamous for their counterintelligence activities ranging from all sorts of monitoring and surveillance, to interrogations, torture, and even alleged assassinations; they are feared and respected by all, much more so than their crimson colleagues.
Although a dated device by Cobra's technological standard, the phones proved much more difficult to degrade or compromise and were a valuable form of communication, modified as they were. The encryption was cutting edge, stuff the boys at NSA would be scratching their heads over for another decade, but it didn’t matter, as Robinson was not to be reached The black dress uniform of Senior Shadow First Class, Christopher Kriner resembled that of his crimson brethren, a uniform he himself had worn for many years, but it differed considerably in that it commanded unprecedented respect among the CGs; very few Cobra operatives outside the elite Crimson Guard Corps had ever seen a "shadow" and very few of them had lived to tell of the encounter. Kriner tugged at almost imperceptible skull and bone buttons and smiled, amused at the task at hand. Kriner thumbed through Robinsons' file trying to decide how best to address this "incident". He studied the photographs of Rick and his family along with those older photos from the life he left behind, photos Robinson’s wife never knew existed, photos of a man she’d never recognize. There was something in Robinson's original features, a physiological indicator which caused Kriner to pause and ponder, something alluding to a potential defect in the CG's personality perhaps? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it had prompted him to plan a visit. Last edited by Viper6; 06-27-2012 at 10:07 AM.. |
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