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11-26-2015, 07:27 PM | #251 |
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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What a nice Thanksgiving Surprise. Can't wait to see Claymore get some action.
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Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. |
11-27-2015, 12:13 PM | #252 |
Crimson Guard
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Location: Canada
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11-27-2015, 12:15 PM | #253 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
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Figures writhed in the stinking mud, struggling to dislodge opponents and gain an advantage. Claymore shifted his weight and twisted slightly, tilting a short stocky man off balance before thrusting his hip into his gut and tossing him from the ring. He slipped, accidentally dodging an incoming blow from the last remaining fighter, blocked an overhand chopped, and lunged. He wrapped a hand around his foes neck, squeezing the airway, and drove his other hand at the man's eye socket. He slid a foot through the thick muck, hooked his foes ankle, and thrust the man out of the pit. Gasping for air, Claymore punched the air.
"SELVA!" he screamed. "SELVA!" shouted the men in return, hollering and slapping each other's backs. Claymore eyed the compact muscles, the proliferation of skull tattoos partially visible through smeared mud, the scars worn as badges of honour on all the Sombreran special forces soldiers. He glanced over at a man dressed in black fatigues, trousers bearing razor creases and combat boots spit shone to a gleam, his silhouette in sharp contrast to the dull gray-black of the tire-walled shoot-house he stood in front of. The man raised a swagger stick to the skull emblem on his black beret and nodded. Claymore pulled himself from the pit, punching men in the shoulder and absorbing congratulatory punishment, and headed for a shower. He could smell the pig and anaconda flesh the cooks were spit-roasting for dinner. He concealed a wince as he felt the muscle strains down his whole left side. He was twice as old as most of the men he had just fought, and even adrenaline and pride couldn't mask aches that increased by the day. He pushed open the door to his room, stretched and swallowed a pair of pain killers. "Gallivanting," he muttered to himself, starting a slow capoeira routine to cool down before showering. Clean and dressed, he buckled his belt, adjusting his pistol and the heavy machete with bronze leopard-head pommel he kept strapped to his side. He gripped hands with several men on the way to taking his place at the head table, two down from the Commanding Officer. The nation's camouflage flag hung in the still air beside he unit's black flag bearing a skull in a wreath of grenades. Flaming torches lit the dinner. The Commanding Officer held up his hand and the assembled men went silent. "COMMANDO!" he yelled. "COMMANDO!" they shouted in response. "SELVA!" he yelled. "SELVA!" they shouted in response. "We welcome our friend, Captain Claymore. Tonight he dines with us. Tomorrow," he said, turning to Claymore, "we train. We'll show you how ready we are to protect your VIP." |
11-27-2015, 01:04 PM | #254 |
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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Happy Belated Thanksgiving Lowtech.
Although I can't wait for more, that may be one of the coolest Claymore stories I've ever read, and he hasn't even been in a firefight yet. The Sombreran Special Forces sound tough. Can't wait to see how they perform.
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Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. |
11-28-2015, 08:26 AM | #255 |
Crimson Guard
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Quote:
That said, you may have a surprise or two when you see what the SF get up to. Their style (and not their performance) is very loosely based on Rio's BOPE. If you haven't seen it, I recommend this film: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elite_Squad Last edited by LowTech; 12-01-2015 at 10:57 AM.. |
11-28-2015, 08:27 AM | #256 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
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Shockwave took in the nervous expressions of the citizens as the caught sight of the San Sombrero police in front of him. They'd already collected several bribes, and the purpose of the patrol appeared to be to collect protection and extortion money, rather than serving and protecting. He lagged slightly and quickly bent to check his bootlaces. He noticed a small stroke of blue chalk on the urine-stained wall, and, under the guise of picking up a piece of garbage, palmed a small capsule tucked behind a broken cinderblock. He held the garbage up, examined it, and placed it on an overflowing garbage can. The local cops looked at him quizzically, then resumed their slow pace.
That evening Shockwave pulled into the American consulate. He passed through several sets of security before walking into a windowless room. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. "Smells like Bengay in here. Was there a geriatric convention?" Claymore gave him the finger. "How're the cops?" "Goons. They're running the biggest protection racket in town. And they hate the SF. Speaking of which, how are they?" "Like any other force that gets obsessed with knives and skulls and lots of shouting. Too in awe of their own image. And they despise the cops in return." Claymore waved his hand in the air. "What have we got?" Shockwave laid out the blow-ups of several hand-drawn maps. "Any idea who's leaving these for us?" Claymore shook his head. "The Colonel's got agents, I guess. Probably doesn't help anyone if we know this one's identity." Shockwave shrugged and tapped the blow-ups. "Didn't know we still had to the tech to do microfilm." Claymore bit off a response and studied the map. Two jungle villages were circled in red, with question marks beside each. "You know anything about these areas?" asked Claymore. Shockwave rubbed his head, thinking. "Sort of. When they gave me the brief on rural responsibilities they were pretty vague. This first village they said was run by drug gangs affiliated with the SF. A couple of the younger guys pointed to this area," he said, pointing to the other village, "and talked about witches. Said they wouldn't go near it. Actually seemed genuinely scared." "Huh. I've seen people exploit superstition before. Could be the same." "You mean like voodoo?" "No," said Claymore. "Though for this conversation, yes. Close enough." Shockwave shook his head in bewilderment. "Ok. See if you can get more on these villages from the cops. I'll try the Army," said Claymore. Upon return to the local SF camp, Claymore walked to he CO's quarters and knocked on the door. The CO opened and Claymore glanced around quickly. "I have news," he whispered. "We need to talk." He stepped into the quarters and unrolled a 1:100,000 map of San Sombrero. "Our VIP may fly in by helicopter from a Navy ship. Here are a pair of flight plans." He showed two routes, each one over-passing one of the villages. The CO leaned over and frowned. "Stay away from this route," he said, pointing to the map. "Rebels." He pointed to the vicinity of one of the villages. "Couldn't we mount a clearance raid before the arrival date?" asked Claymore. "No. Now leave." Claymore rolled up the map and wondered over to the operations room. He idly scanned the log books and turned to the duty officer. "Hey bud, what's the deal with these rebels out around here?" he asked, pointing to the village on the map. The duty officer leaned in and frowned. "There aren't any rebels there. In fact, that's where the CO's family is from." Claymore did a double take and pulled a sheepish grin. "Sorry - I'm getting mixed up. I meant over here," he said, pointing to the other village. The duty officer frowned. "We . . . we don't go there." "Why not?" asked Claymore. "No rebels. We just . . . it's an unlucky place." The guard crossed himself. "Bad spirits." Claymore nodded slowly, hoping to coax more from the guard, but the man closed his mouth and returned to flipping through a magazine. Claymore rolled his shoulders and glanced out the window at the CO's quarters. Navigating loyalties and getting to the truth was like peeling an onion. "Might involve more tears too," he whispered to himself. "Hmm?" asked the guard, glancing up. "Nothing. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." He returned to his room, formulating the recommendation for aerial and electronic surveillance of those villages. |
11-29-2015, 12:57 PM | #257 |
W.O.R.M.S. Commander
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
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Quote:
Well that's a fantastic compliment. Thanks, and glad you enjoyed it.
That sais, you may have a surprise or two when you see what the SF get up to. Their style (and not their performance) is very loosely based on Rio's BOPE. If you haven't seen it, I recommend this film: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elite_Squad
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Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. |
11-30-2015, 01:09 PM | #258 |
Crimson Guard
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Location: Canada
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Five weeks later . . .
Cutter cut the engines of the trawler Christina, feeling the deck roll with the gentle waves. The smell of diesel hung in the humid night air. He leaned on the wheel, watching Torpedo and Tracker push scooters into the water. He glanced over at Colonel Courage, who was leaning on the gunwales, staring into the distance. "I'd expected we'd do this insertion weeks ago," said Cutter. Courage nodded slowly. "You're not the only one. But what would we have done ashore? Sit in an OP and wait for intel? Start asking questions in each village, signalling to the whole island what we're up to? Linked up with rebels and got sucked into a civil war? We need a clear picture first. That's why I sent in Claymore and Shockwave in early." "Just over a month ago. That's not a lot of time." "It's enough if it corroborates info from other sources." Cutter spat overboard. "You seem to have a lot of "other sources,"" Cutter said. Courage glanced at him and looked back over the water. "I mean," continued Cutter, "you seem to always be a step ahead of the game. How do you do it?" Courage stared into the dark for several moments before answering without turning. "Actually, there is something I haven't yet figured out. Maybe you can help me." "What's that?" asked Cutter with a slight smile, leaning in conspiratorially. "What's a guy from Kinsley doing supporting my Red Sox?" Cutter opened his mouth. He closed it. He removed his cap and rubbed his hair. "Guess the Royals never caught my loyalty." "So if you'd gone West Coast you'd be a Mariners fan?" "Hoo! Well," he laughed, "I guess that depends on what kind of trident you want to wear around here." Courage rolled his eyes. "I suppose our seals would be disappointed if the Seattle Pilots had shown more legs. Though that will remain Ace's loss." Cutter chuckled, then frowned. "Speaking of seals, Wet Suit sure was pissed he was dropped from this gig." Courage shrugged. "He has previous contact with Anderson and reason to take things personally." He pointed to Topside, hunched over a radio, and raised an eyebrow. Topside shook his head. |
12-01-2015, 10:58 AM | #259 |
Crimson Guard
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Location: Canada
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Tracker flashed an "ok" signal and Torpedo nodded. Tracker picked up his radio.
"The sucker fish can start their move." Tracker put down the radio and shook his head. "First time I've ever heard of two officers on a patrol. What are they gonna do? Hold each other’s hands?" "When they get lost you gonna go find 'em?" asked Torpedo. "Hell no," muttered Tracker. Aboard the ship, Top Side turned to Cutter and flashed a thumbs up. Shipwreck pushed the assault boat away from the ship, fired up the engines, and pointed the nose towards land. "Hold on boys," he laughed, accelerating and feeling the bottom start to skip across the water. He watched Colonel Courage closely, waiting for his face to pale and the inevitable heaving over the side. Colonel Courage simply stared ahead into the darkness. Shipwreck frowned and aimed for some chop to add yaw to the trip. Courage's expression didn't change, but the dark Belgian Shepherd aboard started to whine. The dog’s handler, some Boston SWAT guy brought in specifically for the op by Colonel Courage, going under the handle “Wide Scope” looked over his shoulder. "Hey jackass," he hissed at Shipwreck. "Give the dog a break." Shipwreck threw a last glance at Courage, who sat expressionless in his seat, and with disappointment eased off the throttle. He glanced around at the rest of the landing team: a collection of mostly new and unknown faces, led by a Commanding Officer no one liked. And Pathfinder. He caught Pathfinder's eye and scowled. Word was that Pathfinder had gone to Major Storm and ratted out teammates. Said he had a future to think of and being associated with corruption wasn't in his interests. Or at least that's what Wet Suit had said. "What is Joe coming to?" Shipwreck asked himself. Thirty minutes later the bow crunched on the gravel beach. The team silently disembarked, passed the security team and took up a defensive perimeter. The seals piled into the boat and Shipwreck took them out to sea under the cover of Courage's team. Courage waited for the sound of the engines to die down and waved his hand. Pathfinder rose, took point, and led the team towards the first waypoint. -- Author’s Note: I’ve tried to keep the characters in line with the toy year-of-release, with Courage being released in ‘93. Being short on dog handlers (Law having quit and Mutt being excluded for having been part of Slaughter’s Marauders so being too close to the op), that left either Spearhead or Wide Scope. A military working lynx is a bit of a stretch, so here’s Wide Scope (introduced in ’03) on loan from the Boston PD. The bit on Pathfinder is based on info from his prototype file card (Pathfinder - G.I. Joe Wiki - Joepedia - GI Joe, Cobra, toys - Wikia). |
12-02-2015, 02:23 PM | #260 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
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Quote:
This insertion team is as follows: Courage (command); Bullet-Proof (DEA + command), Cutter (maritime insertion), Long Arm (breaching/SWAT), Pathfinder (jungle expertise) and Wide Scope & Lamont (dog handling + police function). Muskrat is out (on course), as is Mutt (removed from consideration for prior connection to Slaughter, who isn’t the target but is still a person of interest). If the org structure is too rigid then a team leader is either stuck with making do with the expertise resident in his/her team, or multiple teams have to be stripped of pers to make an ad hoc team. By making the overall unit a group of networked specialists, the team commander simply looks for the specialities s/he needs and selects them accordingly. If it were a mountainous region then a lead climber might be needed. If the target area was a high tech centre then more electronics or computer specialists might be included. Unit-level command is then responsible for making sure there’s a good mix of skills throughout the overall force. From a personal perspective, I think Joe is short mountain-ops and air-defence specialists and medics, but that’s getting into a different topic. |
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