|02-08-2010, 08:42 PM||#371|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
The Atoll pt 9
Frontline pulled the trigger, his assault rifle letting out a short controlled burst.
“GO GO GO,” He shouted.
He watched the trees on either side of the road. The Cobras he had just made duck for cover would be popping back up any second. He had to make sure they kept their heads down and didn’t try to get in some shots on Quickdraw as he ran down the road to grab the wounded Oak.
It had happened suddenly. Oak was on point, a couple dozen feet ahead of the rest of the fireteam, when they had come across the Cobra patrol. They had made good time up the beach, ahead of the Captain Bulldog and the others. They had come to the south road that cut from the beach to the interior of the island and had seen the strange tracks that the recon team had found. The tracks had led out of the road and down to the beach, circling around. Six-Gun had figured they had been escorts or transporting something that had been off loaded on the beach, how long ago none of them could tell. Turning down the road they had slowed their advance. Frontline had wanted to get a good look down the road, find any surprises before Bulldog showed up with the armor. The road went about 100 feet before making a sharp turn. Oak was about halfway to the turn, hugging the tree line when a Cobra patrol had came around the corner.
Oak had reacted quicker, opening fire on the patrol. He tagged at least two of them before getting hit in the leg and dropping to the ground, still firing on the Cobras. The patrol had melted into the trees and the fireteam had quickly advanced, laying covering fire for Quickdraw to go and pull Oak out of the way.
The fireteam had taken cover on either side of the road, as had the Cobras. Oak and Quickdraw were now in the middle of crossing fire patterns. Both men were as low to the ground as they could get. It was only a matter of time before the Cobras decided to take some shots at the easy targets.
“Six-Gun,” Frontline shouted, he was on the right, the man he was yelling to on the left. “Bloop ‘em,” he yelled firing on the Cobras on the left side of the corner. He didn’t want to resort to the grenade launcher, the noise would definitely carry to the middle of the jungle, but he didn’t have much of a choice.
Mangler leaned out and let loose with the SAW, sweeping back and forth across the road. Six-Gun leaned out behind Mangler and let out two shots from the grenade launcher, making the familiar noise. The two shots arced up and landed on either side of the road, the loud explosions toppling a couple of trees and sending splinters into the air. Quickdraw and Oak covered their heads.
“Advance,” Frontline shouted “and cover.”
The fireteam, Mangler and Bazooka behind the others, quickly ran down the road, weapons ready, letting loose a quick burst as the Cobras recovered from the grenades. Quickdraw stood up, helping Oak up and letting the other lean on him. Oak’s left leg was bleeding heavily, he held it up, using his right and Quickdraw’s shoulder for support. Frontline and Bazooka stopped at the two, Mangler doing a sweep of the surrounding jungles.
“Clear,” Boulder said on the left side.
Ballistic, on the right fired a single shot.
“Clear,” he said, looking into the jungle.
“Road’s empty,” Coyote said from around the corner.
“Not for long,” Frontline said. “Form up at the bend,” he ordered thumbing on his throat mike.
“Roger that,” Dial-Tone said listening to Frontline over the radio.
“Is that Frontline,” Captain Bulldog growled. “What’s that boy thinking letting loose noise?”
“They encountered a Cobra patrol,” Dial-Tone explained. “Have one wounded. They’ve hunkered down about a hundred feet down the road at a sharp turn.”
Bulldog was in the passenger seat of the VAMP. Crankcase was driving and Dial-Tone and Stretcher were in the rear seats, Dynamite was in the back bed. The two armadillos, with Hot Seat and Cannonball driving, were in front, pulling rear was Roll Over and Flash on a Tiger Paw. The armadillos were pretty quiet for what they were, but still loud enough that Bulldog wouldn’t be heard.
“Tell Hot Seat and Cannonball to pick up the pace. Warn ‘em not to run over our boys.”
“Right,” Dial Tone said relaying the commands over the radio.
Bulldog looked at the map he held in front of him, ends whipping and folding in the wind. Grid-Iron had just reported in, they had just turned down the north road. Grunt had made contact with Roughshot and were in position. If they were on time Deep-Six and his unit would be in position. What worried him was that there was still no word from Gung-Ho or Torpedo. Where were they?
The three figures moved slowly through the water. The channel into the lagoon was very shallow, even hugging the ground anyone walking along the water’s edge would notice the three shadows. They had left their underwater propulsion units in deeper water, knowing that even their specially equipped units would leave an obvious wake trail. They had to be completely undetected for their part of the mission.
They had surfaced for a bit before heading into the lagoon, using the time to watch the guards that patrolled the shore and the dock, noting movements and the periods where no guards were able to see into the water. There wasn’t that much time, but they would make it work.
Deep-Six was in the lead and reached the first piers of the dock, the flat bottomed barge lazily rising and falling with the waves. Carefully, to avoid splashing, he raised his head out of the water and moved deeper under the dock, closer to shore. Splashdown was next to pop up, quickly followed by Depthcharge. Deep-Six pointed to Splashdown and then the barge. He indicated the piers at the end of the dock to Depthcharge.
Quickly, but silently, the three started setting the explosives.
“MOVE!!,” Gung-Ho shouted, looking quickly over his shoulder at the group rushing through the trees. A bullet whizzed by his ear, turning his attention back to the Cobras that were chasing them. “Second line, pull back.”
Rampart and Leatherneck turned towards Gung-Ho, exposing their backs to the approaching Cobras, but knowing that Gung-Ho and Torpedo were laying covering fire, the two crouched low to the ground running and taking up positions about twenty feet behind where Gung-Ho stood, passing Red Dog and Waverunner at the ten foot mark. Hollowpoint was on point, further behind their position. Tracker carrying the wounded Wet-Suit was close behind. Windtalker, having been hit in the arm, was providing security cover.
“First line,” Red Dog yelled,”Pull back.”
Gung-Ho and Torpedo dropped to the ground, angling down and to the sides as Red Dog and Waverunner laid covering fire. The two took up a new position ten feet behind where Rampart and Leatherneck were.
“Third line,” Leatherneck shouted. “Pull back.”
Gung-Ho looked around the tree he was behind, seeing Waverunner running by and Leatherneck firing towards where the Cobras were crouching behind the trees. This was the pattern they had been doing for the last thirty minutes, with barely a break. At first, leaving the depression, they had made good time, not running into any patrols.
That didn’t last long.
The patrol, larger than the last, had come out of nowhere, seemingly appearing out of the shadows. Windtalker had taken a shot in the arm, Hollowpoint getting grazed across the leg. Rampart and Red Dog, with the SAWs, had been able to give the Joes enough space to set up the retreating pattern they were now using. Gung-Ho knew they couldn’t keep it up for too much longer, they would run out of ammunition soon.
“Second line,” He shouted, “pull back.”
He leaned around the tree, letting loose controlled bursts, trying to conserve ammo but enough to keep the Cobras heads pinned.
“Almost out,” Leatherneck grunted as he ran past.
Gung-Ho stole a quick glance at his watch. Bulldog should have landed by now.
“First line,” came Red Dog’s yell, “pull back.”
Immediately he dropped low, Red Dog’s covering fire coming in the space where his head had been. He crouched and ran past Red Dog, ran past where Leatherneck was in position, and found a good tree to hide behind. He saw Torpedo about ten feet across from him.
“Gotta break silence Loot,” he said to Torpedo.
Torpedo nodded his head.
“Windtalker,” the SEaL yelled, “call it in. Get a fix on Bulldog’s position and tell ‘em we’re coming in hot.”
“Roger,” came the reply from behind them.
“Third line,” Leatherneck shouted. “Pull back.”
|02-08-2010, 09:09 PM||#372|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Diego took careful aim. The back of Raul Santiago Lopez's head filled up the crosshairs. One quick pull of the trigger and it would be over. Lopez would be dead, the rebellion would be over.
Who was he joking, Diego thought. The rebellion was over. It was over the second they had started this raid on the home of General Garcia, of the People's Provincial Military. How did it come to this? What good would killing Lopez do now? Any of the rebellion that saw him do it would kill him themselves, they were as loyal as he used to be. The army? They wouldn't care. They'd capture or kill him themselves anyways and claim credit for killing Raul Santiago Lopez, the People's Enemy.
Diego lowered his weapon and looked around him. He crouched behind what used to be a wall. Lopez was about 10 feet in front and to the left of him, what remained of the rebellions forces were scattered around the courtyard. The Army was stationed across the courtyard, at the home's main entrance. And on the rooftops, and in the windows. And..
Diego sighed. The plan had been good. What had gone wrong?
Looking behind him, he crouched and ran to a wall a couple of feet behind him. Crouching behind it, he looked at the man that was now next to him. Dark hair, one dark eye the other covered by a patch, long moustache, the man looked back at Diego and was smiling.
"Why didn't you pull the trigger Diego," the man asked in a thick australian accent.
Diego was surprised he had been noticed in the ongoing confusion and chaos of the battle. But then, Colonel Major Bludd didn't miss much.
"What was the point?," Diego said. "What good would it have done?"
Bludd shrugged and looked back at the battle. He did a quick survey of the rebellion forces and then the People's Military across from them.
"That's true. In about 20 to 30 minutes it won't matter anyways. You'll be captured or killed."
Diego shook his head. If Bludd said 20 to 30 minutes, then it would be 20 to 30 minutes. The man was the most brilliant military strategist that Diego had ever seen, heard or read about. When Bludd had come to them, 2 or 3 months ago, what had been a struggling little rebellion that was nothing more than an annoyance to the government soon become something much more than an annoyance. With Bludds help they had victory after victory. More people joined them. The
rebellion grew and grew, their victories became greater. And then this. What was supposed to be the biggest victory yet. Taking out General Garcia would have sent a message to the President and the rest of the government. The disillusioned of the country would have flocked to their banner.
But what had gone wrong?
"What happened Bludd?"
Diego watched Bludds face. The man was normally emotionally sealed, never betraying what he thought or was feeling. Was that regret that flashed in Bludds dark eyes.
Bludd sighed and looked back at the battle. He was quiet for a moment and quietly said something to himself. Diego thought Bludd had said "I could have done it" but wasn't sure.
Turning to look at Diego, Bludd's smile was back on his face.
"Plans change mate."
He looked back at the battle.
"15 minutes. Time to get going."
"Going?," Diego asked looking at the man. Was he planning on abandoning them? "Where are you going? You're leaving?"
"Of course. My job here is done. I'm on to bigger and better things now mate."
Diego shook his head. Job? This wasn't a job, this was war. The pigs in the government were to blame for all that had gone wrong in the country. The rebellion were patriots, freeing the country from an oppressive government. This was no job.
"You're nothing more than a common mercenary," Diego accused the man.
Bludd just laughed even louder and longer.
"Oh I'm much more then common. Much much more."
"Who are you?," Diego asked. He motioned to the chaos of the battle around them. "All your plans were brilliant until this one. What happened. You come to us with plans and weapons. And now this?"
Bludd's laughter died and the regret was back in his eyes, and this time something else. Disappointment? It quickly faded and the smile was back.
"Listen here mate, I came and I helped. Without me you'd still be back in your little shack in the forest raiding supply caravans all day. Now? Now you're go down in the history books, much more than the footnote you would have been."
Bludd looked around the wall and did another quick survey.
"Cutting it close," he said to himself.
"Who are you? Who do you work for?"
Bludd had come to them saying he was representing a party that could not be named. This party, Bludd said, believed in their cause and wanted to help, but because of who he was could not come out, at least not then. With Bludd had come money, money and weapons. But with Bludd had been the tactics and planning they had lacked before. Bludd's military mind had proven to be the mysterious benefactor’s biggest gift. They had thought the benefactor to be a wealthy businessman, or even government official. Now Diego wasn't so sure.
"Who do I work for," Bludd said, the smile even bigger as if he finally had gotten what he had wanted. "What to find out?"
Diego was shocked. Was Bludd asking him to abandon his compatriots? To abandon his cause? But then not that long ago, he had been contemplating killing his glorious leader. Was he really ready to die for this cause? Was he ready to spend his life in prison for this cause? Was it worth it?
"Look mate, you can support all the causes you want. I've seen ones that are truly worth dying for. I've seen some that were the stupidest wastes of time and space. I've overthrown governments, I've overthrown rebellions. The things I've seen and done."
Bludd paused, taking on a far away look, looking into his past.
"What it comes down to Diego, is that every man must ask themselves what they are willing to die for. What is so important that it's bigger then my own life?"
Bludd motioned around him, taking in the rebellion forces, the military, the courtyard and Diego had a feeling that he was including the whole country.
"This is not worth dying for."
Bludd moved away from the wall and started walking away from the battle.
|02-08-2010, 11:24 PM||#373|
Join Date: Oct 2008
Nice. Great use of Bludd.
|02-10-2010, 10:12 PM||#374|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Stalker passed into the tunnel, the start of which marked the halfway point of the five lane track that encircled the Joe’s main base of operations, the PIT. This had been the first base for the unit, and still served as the primary, but over the years as the unit had expanded they had found the need for more locations, to spread out operations and make it easier to get to mission points. The PIT, so named because it was a huge cavern carved out of the side of a mountain was large, two mile circumference. The ceiling was rough, showing the origin as a cavern, as were the sidewalls on the natural west side and above the road on the east side.
The floor was divided, almost equally in half, by a deep river, about twenty feet wide. In the middle of the cavern the river opened up into a large lake, continuing into the side of the mountain at the PIT’s southern end. The lake, well not really that large, was big enough and deep enough to allow the team to run underwater testing and training. They had never seen fit to name it, just calling it The Lake. Bridges were constructed over the river at regular intervals, allowing passage from the residence buildings on the west and the operations buildings on the east.
The east side of the cavern, starting from the southern end and running along the wall’s edge to the north was the long tunnel, with the security road on top. The northern end was the main vehicle entrance, a long tunnel that ran under the desert and ended in an elevator, the top of which was disguised as an old army barracks, a couple of Quonset huts and fence and not much else. Vehicles would enter from the blast doors and onto the security road, driving straight down into the motor pool or taking the road to the southern end and the tunnel that led to the PIT’s small airfield. The airfield was really just a large hanger for helicopters, with a couple of the unit’s VTOL craft for emergency purposes.
Stalker exited the tunnel on the north end, just past where the vehicle entrance was. In short order he was over the north bridge and crossing into the residence half of the cavern. The residence area contained the barracks buildings, mess hall, and the most used building the recreational facility, nicknamed the Fun Building. Scattered around the various buildings were some fields of various sizes, basketball and volleyballs courts as well as a driving range.
Passing by the well occupied fields, Stalker was always amazed at the lengths the command staff, the Directorate, went to provide for the well being of the unit. Not just mental and physical, keeping the soldiers in top shape, the Directorate also went out of its way to provide recreational activities, whatever was possible to have within the cavern. The Joes voluntarily gave up so much when they joined the unit, Gen. Colton felt providing some connection to activities of the real world was the least he could do.
It was midday, most of the fields occupied with people in various activities, Stalker pretty much had the track to himself. Most of the runners were in the morning or evening, or what passed for morning and evening within the cavern. The cavern’s systems ran on a day/night set up, so the members of the unit wouldn’t have their sleep cycles ruined by constant day and lighting. The PIT still ran 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and in three shifts.
He crossed the south bridge and returned to the operations side of the cavern. The buildings here were larger and more scattered, but not as many. The Operations Center, where the Directorate Offices were, as well as the Command Center and the various other offices, was the largest and dominated the middle of the cavern. The motor pool was on the north end. The Infirmary Building on the south end. Near the eastern side was the Mission Prep building, which also housed the armory. Nestled near the southeastern end was the Fobbit Hole, officially the Research Building.
Stalker picked up the pace as he approached the southern tunnel entrance once more.
It was a couple hours later, showered and rested, that Stalker entered the Unit Personal Office. It wasn’t a large office area, just a couple of desks, file cabinets and the officer of the Unit Personal Manager. The name on the plate next to the door read Lt. Skydive. Stalker knocked and the door slide open. Inside the small office was Skydive, seated behind his desk, in the plain Army on-duty uniform that was worn in the base, dark green khakis and light brown button up short. Stalker wore his off-duty uniforms, a pair of camo pants in the unit’s distinctive pattern and light green t-shirt. Each of the individual branches had their own colors. As much as the unit was integrated, it was hard to take years of separation out of the soldiers.
There was another man in the office, standing at ease in front of the desk, not even looking at Stalker when he entered. The man was taller, couple inches taller than Stalker, with blond hair in standard army length.
“Wanted to see me sir,” Stalker said walking into the office and giving Skydive, his superior officer, a quick salute. The Joes weren’t strict with protocol, but again it was one of those things that were hard to beat out of a soldier.
“Yes,” Skydive said pointing at the other man. “Bolt Action here needs to be shown around.”
“No problem,” Stalker said. “Spec ops or Con ops?,” he asked giving the shortened names for the two types of operations run by the Joe unit, special operations and conventional operations.
“Spec ops,” Skydive answered. “One of yours.”
“Right,” Stalker said turning to the other man. “Handle’s Stalker, nice to meet you.” He said holding out his hand.
“Dar…” the man called Bolt Action started. “I mean Bolt Action.” He finished shaking Stalkers hand.
“Don’t worry about it,” Stalker said laughing and leading the way out of the office. “It takes everyone awhile to get used to it.”
The two men left Skydives office and walked thru the open office area, heading for the hallway door. Once in the hallway Stalker took Bolt Action on a quick tour of the Operations Building and the various departments that were the behind the scenes runners of the Unit.
“Is it always this empty,” Bolt Action asked after seeing empty desk after empty desk.
“No,” Stalker said. “The Joe’s are lean and mean. As such we don’t have a large clerical or support staff. So all of us have to pull double duty. We serve on the frontlines and back at base. Take Skydive for instance,” Stalker continued, taking Bolt Action outside and into the cavern. “He’s got command of a spec ops unit, high altitude insertion unit, but during the non-ops time he serves as the Unit’s personal man and has a couple of other guys that work for him. Must have been an off day or on mission.”
“So there’s no permanent staff?,” Bolt Action asked following the other down the sidewalk.
“The Hub, that’s what we call our east coast base,” Stalker said. “there’s a good sized permanent staff. That’s where most of the vehicles are stored as well as the majority of supplies before getting sent off to the various bases, as well as the ships dock. All that good stuff. They have a permanent staff of mechanics, techs and supply people.”
“What did you mean by spec ops and con ops?”
“We run two kinds of operations,” Stalker said stopping at a crosswalk and letting a couple of golf carts roll by before crossing the street. “Conventional operations are the more large scale ones, that require armor and are longer more long term fights. Special operations are the most common. The good old ‘go do this’ and drop you in and hopefully will be there to pick you up.”
“Sounds fun,” Bolt Action said sarcastically.
“Boy, is it,” Stalker said laughing. “Now come on, let me show you the PX. Bankshot can get you anything you want.”
|02-10-2010, 10:13 PM||#375|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Nothing really exciting this time, just another behind the scenes kind of thing.
|02-10-2010, 10:39 PM||#376|
Join Date: Jul 2008
Dang it. Just as I was starting to get caught up you post three more.
Intersperced my catch up by reading the two newest (trying to read parts 6-8 of Atoll still)
Interesting take on Bludd. Not how I've always seen him, but I look forward to where your going with him.
Also, I like your description of the pit. Very realistic and functional. I quite like the behind the scenes stuff.
|02-11-2010, 12:40 AM||#377|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
The House on the Cliff pt 1
Location: PIT Operations Center, Briefing Room B
Time: 13:30 local time
Briefer: Gen. Hawk
Mission Team: Beachhead, OiC
“This is the target,” Hawk said standing off to the side of the screen and indicating the image on it. “The house is owned by a Nico Mandrirobilis.”
The image on the briefing room’s large screen was of an older styled rustic looking large home. The house and a couple of smaller out buildings were on top of a high peninsula of land. A road ran up the face of the cliff, long so it wasn’t that steep. The cliff itself was tall and straight, very little slope. The picture was a bad angle, not too focused, but men could be seen patrolling the grounds, as well as at the gate along the road.
“Phones,” Hawk said to the analyst who sat at the control board in the corner. “Next image please. Put it on slideshow.”
The image changed to show a different angle of the house, the road was visible on the side, but more of the cliff face was now shown. The image then changed again, showing the rear of the house. The last image showed the front of the house, as if looking at it from the bottom of the road. The first image reappeared and the screen started showing the four images one after the other.
“As you can see, the house is fairly inaccessible. It’s basically a plateau, with the only vehicle access being that one small road. The top of the plateau, what isn’t house or grounds, is fairly light forest. Giving the small size, it’s a sure bet that the forest is wired.”
“Do we know that for sure,” one of the nine men asked. The man sat in the second row, off to the side with his feet up on the backs of the seats in front of him. He had red hair and a red moustache, with the ends down to his chin.
“No Beach,” Hawk answered. “You get to find that out.”
“Joy,” Beachhead said sighing. “Always the fun jobs.”
“The road,” Hawk said continuing the briefing. “Is a no-go for entry. To exposed to the guards at the gate. We believe there are electronic measures at the base of the road as well.”
“How do you figure that,” another of the mission team asked.
“The pictures were taken by private helicopter,” Hawk said. “We had one of the intel boys do a drive-by. At the base of the road he got out to take some scenic pictures, that was the cover. He parked out of sight of the road and within five minutes a couple guards came down to investigate.”
“What about eyes on the cliff faces,” a third man asked.
“We’re not sure Alpine,” Hawk answered. “We weren’t able to make as good a survey as we would have preferred. What would be your guess?”
The man named Alpine leaned forward in his seat in the first row, taking some time to study the images as they cycled through.
“It’s a steep cliff,” he said finally. “Not too steep to prevent birds from nesting on some of those small outcroppings. I’d say no to motion detectors. Hard to tell, but I don’t see any camera points along the edge. Will we be able to get close enough to study with imagers before entry?”
“Yes,” Hawk answered. “Phones, overview please,” he said as the image changed to show an overhead image. The plateau was in the middle, with the road coming down to the south and intersecting with a route that ran east and west. Other plateaus and hills were scattered around, as well as a couple of small forests. The target plateau was the largest and tallest in the immediate area. “You’ll be inserted by van here,” he said pointing to a spot further down the main road, near one of the forests. Insertion will be at 20:30 tomorrow. You need to be on the plateau by daybreak. Where and when you start your climb will be up to Beachhead and Alpine. Make the determination in the field.”
“Mission objectives?,” Beachhead asked.
“Package recovery,” Hawk said motioning to Phones. The images of the house were replaced by two men. On the left was a balding man of around 50-60, wearing glasses and a moustache. On the right was a more athletic looking younger man with blond hair. “On the left is Nico Mandrirobilis. On the right is Charles Halifax. Halifax is a low rent courier and enforcer. He’s worked for Mandrirobilis before serving as a go between for dealings with MARs as well as the Red Shadows. Intel has Halifax arriving at the house tomorrow early evening to pick up a package for delivery. We want the package.”
“And the package is,” one of the team asked from nearer the back, where he was sitting by himself.
“Good question Lone Wolf. Halifax arrived by plane earlier today,” Hawk said as the screen changed to show Halifax leaving an airport and getting into a rental car. The image showed him carrying a black leather briefcase. “The house is one hundred miles from the nearest airport, so Halifax is driving.”
“A hundred miles,” another man asked giving a whistle. “That’s a good distance to travel. Doesn’t this Mandraw… Mandro.. Nico guy have a private airfield? Don’t all those rich mobster types have ‘em?”
“Yes Tunnel Rat,” Hawk answered. “Mandrirobilis does have a private airfield, but it’s always watched. Coming in by public plane and rental car, makes it harder to link Halifax to Mandrirobilis,” Hawk said continuing. Tunnel Rat could be heard quietly saying Mandrirobilis over and over trying to get it right. “That briefcase is the package to retrieve.”
“Do we care about condition of the handlers,” Beachhead asked.
“No,” Hawk answered. “The package and its contents are primary. If can prevent going loud, then do so, but package recovery is paramount over all else.”
“Understood,” Beachhead said.
“Extraction,” Alpine asked.
“We use Mandririobilis own airplane,” Tunnel Rat said joking.
“That’s right,” Hawk said. The screen changed again this time showing a small private airstrip with a lear jet parked in a hanger. “This lear is Mandrirobilis’ private jet. Lucky for us he keeps it flight ready at all times. Are you familiar with the model Dogfight?”
“Yeah,” Dogfight answered. “Flight plans filed?”
“The computer boys are working some up now,” Hawk said.
“Can see some guards in the pictures,” Beachhead started. “Do we have numbers on guards and staff?”
“No,” Hawk said. “This is a blind op. Is that a problem?,” Hawk asked knowing the answer.
“Hell no,” Beachhead said smiling. “That just makes it fun.”
“Aw crap,” Tunnel Rat said. “Beach is smiling. That’s never good.”
“For the enemy,” Alpine said laughing.
“Cut the chatter,” Hawk said. “Overview again please.” The screen changed back to the overview picture. “The airport is twenty miles south of the house. You’ll be flying into the same airport and meeting Fairchild there. He’s intel in the field and will provide drop off.”
“Will Fairchild be extract from house to airport?,” Alpine asked.
“No,” Hawk replied. “Dogfight and Fairchild will remain at the airport to secure the transportation out. We’re going by the assumption that it will be a hot extract and that there will be security at the airport itself.”
“Sound simple enough,” Beachhead said taking his feet down and standing up stretching. “When do we leave?”
|02-11-2010, 12:42 AM||#378|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
This is the "model" for the House on the Cliff story.
The house is different, but the plateau, cliff and road are what is described in the story.
|02-11-2010, 06:48 AM||#379|
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
I pictured the House overlooking a Sheer cliff dropoff into the Adriatic. "This one looks like a Piece of Cake!"
Nice who is Lone Wolf? Is Crag Sgt Boulder?
Love the Story can't wait to see what's in the briefcase but I assume I know what it is.
Atoll #9 is heating up! Love it!
Bludd's story rocks. I like to see him in the same way. Colonel Major Bludd sounds a little off. How about Major General Bludd? I see him as equally brilliant as is implied by his filecards. Is Diego any chance Long-Range?
The Tour is also great. I can see from your previous layout project with coupled with your amazing amount of detail, you've given this a lot of thought.
Great Job Troy. Made my day. You know I just got Origins #12 in the mail, and it took me longer to read the Tour story than the comic.
|02-12-2010, 10:32 PM||#380|
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Something a little different tonight.
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|Outback, Falcon, and OG13 Scarlett|
|New Jersey G.I. Joe Sightings|
|Is ARAH coming to an end?|
|New G.I.Joe 50th 2016 Assortment Discussion Thread|
|Hisstank RPG Game Forum/ Battlefield.|
|Two more Hiss tanks!|
|The 458th Greatest G.I. Joe Character of all Time!|
|POLL: What is the 227th greatest G.I. Joe vehicle or...|
|Origin of zombie vipers|
|Maryland G.I. Joe Sightings|
|Michigan G.I. Joe Sightings|
|Virginia G.I. Joe Sightings|
|Who's Your Favorite Dreadnok Of All Time?|
|50th anniversary modern edition Roadblock|
|RoC Ice Dagger passenger compartment solutions?|
|G.I. Joe 50th Anniversary Toys "R" Us Photo...|
|Official G.I. Joe Command Team Recruiting Thread|
|Modern Annihilator custom by Geckohun|
|3.75" Joe: Creating G.I.Joe: A Real American Hero Vol....|
|What secrets lurk in the filecards?|
|Recent Off Topic Threads|
|Legion XIV 1:18 Project: Suits|
|Power Team Elite And True Heroes Discussion Thread|
|Anyone using Game of Thrones Ghost (Wolf) for Timber?|
|Kickstarter: Unrustable Bastards 'PowerMaster TFs'|
|The CORPS Megathread|
|Recent B/S/T Threads|
|RyanJ BST Selling RoC PoC 30th Resolute Retaliation...|
|Toys for sale(some SDCC/Con exclusives)|
|TFCon 2016 wants|
|G.I.JOE in Hong Kong?|
|WTB: Various Modern Era Wants|
|New 50th line up for sale FS/FT|
|Flash77's B/S/T Lists joes & transformers|