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03-08-2010, 12:34 AM | #471 |
#voteblackjack
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Posts: 35,747
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But how would that come to the attention of the Joe team, a secret unit?
There's a story there.... I've borrowed alot of names from Action Force, as well as the americanized version of some of the foreign Joes. Shaman, the Marine Medic (who's currently on the beach with the WHALE, he'll get his time to shine soon in a chapter or two), is the name given to Spirit in Canada.
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03-08-2010, 12:40 AM | #472 |
Darth_Henning
Join Date: Jul 2008
Location: Canada
Posts: 21,174
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Quote:
Nevermind then. Quote:
Going to have to steal that name. |
03-08-2010, 06:20 AM | #473 |
W.O.R.M.S. Commander
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
Posts: 10,649
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Shaman I think is the Action Force version. Pretty much all the Joes that were sold in Canada were the same as the one in the States.
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03-08-2010, 09:41 AM | #474 |
#voteblackjack
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Posts: 35,747
|
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03-08-2010, 05:19 PM | #475 |
Cobra Soldier
Join Date: Aug 2009
Location: texas
Posts: 84
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the atoll story is great, fun to read. By the way, Grid iron in it has gotten me to want one. What figure are you using as him?
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Why am I to much of a Star Wars geek? |
03-08-2010, 05:26 PM | #476 |
#voteblackjack
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Posts: 35,747
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I don't have a 25th/ME version of Grid-Iron yet.
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03-09-2010, 11:14 PM | #477 |
#voteblackjack
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Posts: 35,747
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The Atoll pt 13
Sundown watched Leviathan and Surfer pull the two landing craft off the beach and into deeper waters. Gung-Ho was coming in hot and they didn’t want any stray Cobra shots to damage their only means off this rock. Shipwreck and Overboard were in the WHALE’s guns. Because of the way the others were going to be spread out, and coming in, the hovercrafts machine guns were the last resort to cover the retreat of the whole unit. If there were too many Cobras, they were to all jump on the WHALE and get off the island, landing at another location. They couldn’t risk losing the means off. His fireteam was spread out on either side of the WHALE, behind the make shift log barricades they had been building. Fallen trees lined both sides of the beach, making barely adequate barriers for any attacking vehicles. But something was better than nothing. Dane, Hunter, Hardline and Quickfire were on the right side. Dane behind the other two so he could quickly stand up and throw some grenades into the tree line once their men were clear. Mouse, the SAW, and Fury the MAWS, were on the left with Leopard, and Sokerk. Sundown and Mirage were at the base of the ramp, behind the flimsiest protection, designed to be easily thrown out of the way. The ramp of the WHALE was left down, for a quick entrance as required. Shaman was hunched down on the floor, his medical kit ready, as he knew he was about to receive at least two wounded. Now comes the worst part, Sundown thought, the wait. Knowing the enemy is coming. Knowing your teammates are in trouble and not being able to do a damn thing just yet. Knowing and waiting. The anticipation. He took off his non-regulation cowboy hat and wiped at the thin layer of sweat that threatened to slide into his eyes. Gunfire could be heard, which meant that Gung-Ho was close. “They’re a-coming boys,” Sundown said in his deep, thick heavily accented Texas drawl. “Let’s get the welcome wagon ready.” ************ Gung-Ho could see beach through the trees ahead. They were thinning, more space between them. He hoped they had set the course right. Once radio contact had been established, they had gotten the coordinates of the beach team and changed course, hoping to come out right on top of them. Almost out of ammunition, they had given up the hopping cover fire that had been their retreating tactic. It had worked, for a time. They had considerably thinned out the chasing Cobras. The big Cajun wondered if all the snakes were chasing them, letting the others easy access to the interior. He doubted it. This operation was a lot bigger then they had previously thought. He heard the loud repeating fire of the machine gunners. Rampart and Red Dog stopping every ten feet, under the covering fire of Leatherneck and Torpedo, and opening fire with the SAWs. Pinning the Cobras down for a few. He heard a loud click, followed by another. That was it. The last of the ammunition for the big guns. If they weren’t on course, they were going to be in a world of trouble once they hit open beach. Oh well, he thought looking over his shoulders determined to be the last through, god loves the daring or something like that. Windtalker and Waverunner were the first through the trees, carrying the wounded Wet-Suit between them. Hollowpoint, his arm in a sling, followed. Tracker was next, left arm hanging useless, blood dripping down his arm. He was looking pale, he’d lost a lot of blood after taking two shots in the shoulder. He had refused to allow them to stop long enough to properly bandage him up. It had been done on the run, and done badly, the bandage now loose. “Why didn’t you say something,” Gung-Ho yelled as the SEaL ran past. “No time,” the blond man said through gritted teeth. “Take this,” he said handing Gung-Ho his assault rifle, knowing he wouldn’t be able to use it. He heard shots from the beach behind him. Calls of “over here” and “quickly” and “move it”. They were close, he realized, just not directly on target. Leatherneck and Torpedo stopped, standing on either side of him, and he motioned Rampart and Red Dog through. Their SAWs were empty, nothing they could do to cover the retreat. Best get out there and help move the others along. “How many’s left”,” Gung-Ho asked. “No clue,” Leatherneck replied. Shrugging, Gung-Ho pulled the slings of the two rifles over either shoulder, holding them pointing into the forest, one in each hand. “Always wanted to try this,” he said aloud, wondering if he’d be strong enough to handle the two rifles at the same time. “Through the trees, twenty yards to the right,” Torpedo said having looked out onto the beach and found the location of the WHALE. “Facing backwards or front,” Leatherneck asked. “Facing the forest,” Torpedo answered waving his right arm. “Figured we’d be backing out.” “That we are,” Gung-Ho said giving a wild yell and opening fire with the two assault rifles. Together, the SEaL and two Marines, covered the retreat of their teammates, slowly backing out onto the beach where there was no cover. ************ The shots were close. Heavy fire. SAWs. Two of them. But not in front. They were off target, Sundown realized. “Sweep the beach,” he yelled, the others automatically knowing what he meant. “Left,” Sokerk yelled a minute later. “Twenty yards.” They all looked to the left seeing two men supporting a third come out of the tree line. They were moving slowly, struggling under the weight of the wounded man. From the distance they couldn’t make out who it was. “Over here,” Sokerk yelled. “Quickly,” Leopard shouted. “Move it,” Sundown yelled to his own men. Thuds followed as Dane and Hunter jumped onto the WHALE, scrambling up to get a better angle. Quickfire and Hardline came forward, helping Mirage grab the barricade and rotate it, giving some cover in that direction. Sundown watched as the men turned and started making their way to the WHALE as quick as they were able. He saw another come out of the trees, hearing the continued shouting of the fireteam, carrying a sniper rifle and an arm in a sling. That must be Hollowpoint. Hope it’s not his trigger arm, Sundown thought , can use his skills. Another from the tree line, this one weaponless, left arm hanging limp at his side. That doesn’t look good, the big Texan thought. Next from the trees came two men carrying SAWs. They quickly overcame the one with the limp arm and slowed. One, from this distance it looked like Red Dog, handed his SAW to the other, pulling out his sidearm and reaching down and pulling the wounded mans. Guns in hand he turned back towards the woods, walking backwards, guarding his fellow soldiers. More firing from the woods, right at the tree line. Sundown could see spots of sand explode where bullets were hitting it. Doing a quick count he realized there were three Joes still in the forests edge, buying time for the others to get to safety. He climbed up onto the WHALE and stood next to Dane. Sundown pointed towards the water’s edge with his left arm, making moving motions with his right. “Water,” he shouted, hoping they could hear him. “Move to the edge.” They either heard him or understood the signals because all of the retreating men changed their angle, heading closer to the water’s edge, giving Sundown’s men a wider angle from the WHALE to the jungle. “Radio,” he said bending down next to one of the gunner’s positions, Overboard handing him the WHALEs radio. “Gung-Ho,” he said into the receiver hoping to all hell that the big Marine could hear him and knowing that it would be Gung-Ho still in the jungle. “Twenty seconds, straight back to the water. NOW!!” “Dane,” Sundown said calmly. “I don’t want a single tree standing.” ************ “NOW!!,” came the voice through the radio. It was a Texas accent, had to be Sundown. “Run straight back,” Gung-Ho said as the three cleared the trees, one gun hanging empty by its sling, the other still firing. “NOW!!” They turned quickly, leaving their backs exposed to the rapidly closing Cobra troopers, and sprinted for the water’s edge. They heard a familiar sound, the fwoomp of a grenade launcher followed by the whistling arc of the grenade. Another fwoomp, followed by another and then another. The water splashed high as the three hit the edge, not stopping, turning and heading towards the WHALE, now able to see it so close yet far enough away. Explosions sounded from where they had been seconds before. Crashing. Screams. Trees following. The sound of sand showering down all around them. Then silence. “Keep going,” Leatherneck shouted. Gunfire. From further down the beach. The WHALE. Shots hit the water near them, behind and to the side. The surviving Cobras trying for them before turning attention to the WHALE. The sound of more grenades. And then the louder whistle of a rocket. No armor, but plenty of targets to hit. A grunt of pain and splash as Torpedo is hit and falls. Stopping, helping the man up. No one left behind. Louder explosion. More screams. Lots more. More crashing. Loud thud of a tree falling behind them. Silence.
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03-10-2010, 12:11 PM | #478 |
W.O.R.M.S. Commander
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
Posts: 10,649
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WHoa!
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03-10-2010, 12:54 PM | #479 |
#voteblackjack
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Northwood, NH
Posts: 35,747
|
That good or bad?
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03-10-2010, 02:48 PM | #480 |
W.O.R.M.S. Commander
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
Posts: 10,649
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good my friend good. Just blown away with the action. How many WHALES are at the Atoll? 2? How many people fit in a real world WHALE?
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