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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 7, 2010 7:07:55 GMT -5
Located in the suburb of Paradise.
Current Plotline: 337 acres of pure higher education. Unfortunately there isn't a lot of learning going on in the campus at the moment. Currently an extremist group threatens the well being of the institute caught in conflict with a multitude of Private Military Companies. If you're stuck in the middle of this your best bet is to keep your head down and wait it out. Either that or stick it between your legs and kiss the maker a green one.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 7, 2010 7:34:12 GMT -5
[Entering from the Mirage]"Contact!"Driving down Tropicana Avenue, Paradise. The music from the forward humvee was suddenly turned up several billion decibels, "Tyson! On the .50! Light that sh*t up!" Aya shouted while climbing over to the other side of the humvee, "Focus attention on any brutes you see!" pulling herself out of the window, locking her left leg between the seat and door and stabilizing herself with her right foot. Already tracers flew over head both too and frow from them and the opposition. A digital counter sat over both forces displaying how many bullets were fired per second; whoever had the most were winning. A massive blast made Aya's left ear ring, following the smoke trail from the RPG. The humvee behind them retaliated with the same idea in mind, a merc popped out the top with an AT4 on his shoulder. The tube hissed as a projectile flew back down wind, howls from every merc in prediction of the damage; the spirit was cut down as a clad soldier came into range, the projectile merely changing direction drastically and blowing a hole in a wall. Aya smiled as she heard a 'f*cks sake!' among slander towards the merc which had shot the weapon. Breathing technique implemented, inhale while working the bolt and exhale to fire the shot; Aya built up a rhythm which she was quite enjoying, proper target practice. Several resorts down Tropicana Ave had their outer area facing the road; it was always nice to show off your pool and cocktail bar. Sand bags lined around the bowls, "Matt, clean out any hostiles taking cover in the pools. Mow down anyone trying to make it to them," as soon as a head popped up it snapped back from a 7.62 round. Aya yanked the bolt back to reload.
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Post by Mikey on Aug 7, 2010 9:08:49 GMT -5
Tyson sat silently in the back of the hummer, his head rocking back and forth a bit to the beat of the song coming from the speakers. He’d never heard it in his life, but it was awesome.
When they first left the parking lot of the casino, he’d sat there for a moment and looked at the mask in his hands. Heavy piece of f**king metal, just as thick as the other bits of his armor. Reinforced from the inside with the same titanium as the rest of the suit, the outside was a stark opposite. While the armor was a tone of grey, clean and machined with very little dents or marks, the mask was blackened or peeled of all color to the dull grey steel. Even beyond the design carved into it, you could see bits of impact. Scratches and even small holes that shone through to the reinforcing metal underneath. The half skull carved into the right side, almost wrinkled at the eye socket, moving into sharp lines that looked like jagged teeth that turned to a simple line as it went to the left and finally faded altogether. He identified with this thing more than himself, some days. As strong as he was, it was his better half. It was the one that walked into the danger of a firefight for something, sometimes to save, sometimes to kill, without fear. It was what a man saw in the last few moments of life. It was like an alter ego, all the death caused being on it instead of Tyson Salem. It was true. You wear a mask long enough, it becomes a part of you.
Tyson set the headband on his head, synching it down and feeling the familiar weight. The mask was tilted up, blocking all of his peripheral vision in that direction for the moment. When he wore it, his eyes were so close to the holes, it didn’t impair his vision all that much.
“Contact!” A voice yelled, and Tyson reached up. The mask flipped down, and he could feel it in his bones. Death was going to happen.
He only half heard the order over the noise of several factors. He heard his name, he heard fifty, and his mind put together the rest. He reached up and grabbed the porthole, hauling himself out of his seat with his arms and grabbing the Browning machine gun mounted to the humvee. He jerked the charging handle and let it snap back into place, his hands gripping the twin handles of the weapon. He lined up a shot, more to say he pointed the weapon in the general direction of the first hostile he saw, and opened some fire. The man almost fell apart as .50 BMG rounds hit random points of his body. Tyson cut the fire when he saw the man was down, and up, and on that table, and slightly draped over the chair back there, looking for a new target. He heard the call to focus on the Billy’s, and he gladly avoided blowing some poor piece of s*** all over an affordable economy class bar and grill. He was only glad because he saw one of them, diverting fire from an AT4.
“Boo, motherf**kers…” Tyson mumbled, almost knowing that the only thing this guy was afraid of right now was the chink in his armor. The one that was going to let twenty or so of the machine gun’s rounds right into his holiest of holy’s, after a few softened him up. And Tyson’s door prize? The ricocheting rounds didn’t ricochet in a certain direction. They went all over the f**king place, and that included into the bodies of the men nearby, letting their heavy armored friend take all the lime light.
“Looks like you didn’t think that through, did ya b*tch?!” Tyson yelled out, hoping the Billy could hear him as he watched his comrades get cut down by gunfire he was bouncing their way.
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Post by .Merios on Aug 7, 2010 15:23:38 GMT -5
Matthew was in the same vehicle as Aya, which meant he had to keep up with her pace less be left behind. He was completely suited up, which meant he was wearing his black Dragon Skin and leather bodysuit along with what looked like a torso harness that had two holsters under each armpit and a line of magazines into quick-access pouches making an X across his chest. His MP5 was slung around his body, danging off his right side which restricted his movement a bit inside the humvee.
"Matt, clean out any hostiles taking cover in the pools. Mow down anyone trying to make it to them."
He didn't like having to kill these men, but it was a necessary action. With a grunt, he complied, reaching between his legs and pulling up what looked like an older model Barret semi-automatic sniper rifle. It had some rust on it, but he picked it out personally since it was one of the models he had used during training back in '95-98. His window didn't have any pane of glass in it, so he opted to lift himself off the seat and snake out the window as the humvee traveled down the road. He positioned himself in between the window and the roof, his feet pressed hard against the inside of the door and his body leaned over the roof. He flipped out the stabilizing bi-pod on the rifle and placed it on the roof. He moved the rifle back a bit and shouldered it, placing his right eye into the eyepiece and aiming it down range at the pool.
It was a fifty, but it didn't phase him much after the first trigger pull. He watched through his scope as the BMG round tore through the pelvis of a soldier diving for the pool, spraying gore onto the porcelain, his body sliding down the incline slowly, leaving a streak along the side. Matthew grimaced and noticed there was a man in the similar body armor from before, and he saw through his sights that several .50's were bouncing off of him and wrecking havoc on the squad he was currently with. The soldier turned around and ran underneath what looked like a concrete balcony from the upper story of a nearby building. He was running to go inside, and Matthew saw that two other soldiers appeared on the balcony, stepped out onto it. Seeing as the tech soldier was underneath the balcony, he took an opportunity that might speed up the process of clearing out the pool.
He dropped his crosshairs onto a supporting column holding up the balcony and, from where he was, he had to lead it a bit as the humvee took a turn. He squeezed the trigger, his bullet missing by a fraction and hitting the side of the building. He quickly readjusted his aim and fired another shot, this time hitting the supporting beam, shattering it into debris as it exploded inward, showering the armored soldier with dust and specks of concrete. The balcony started to wane and buckle and just as the two soldiers up top turned to go back inside, the balcony itself snapped off it's supporting structure and collapsed downward, pulling with it the wall of the upstairs room it was connected to. With an avalance of steel and concrete, the debris hit the tech soldier literally like a ton of bricks, it formed what looked like a rolling waterfall of concrete and brick as it tumbled down the walkway and into the pool. He saw men trying to escape the actual inside of the pool from the deep end as the debris engulfed them. A massive plume of what looked like dust filled the air around the pool area and, through his scope, it seemed quiet.
"I think the pool's clear of hostiles for the moment. No word on if the tech survived."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 7, 2010 23:42:18 GMT -5
[OoC: Gees, make sure no casual members catch you using that Mer. Another thing. The NPC's are candy, treat'em as such, no need to leave it up to me to dictate their fate; kill it and we'll wheel another around to blow up.]Feeling a little outgunned on her own side, Aya pulled herself back in the Humvee, "Can't we go any faster?" she asked the driver, "I haven't seen any major obstructions in the road, we could weave through all this,""Top speed is completely theoretical ma'am," what? How does that work, "At least for the hummer in front, if you let that into the hands of the slightly action heavy mercs then it's garuanteed to lag for their own benefit,""You don't sound too jaded by that," Aya had to admit. He shrugged, "It adds a new trip down memory lane. I'm sitting snug in my own metal box, you're the ones who worry about incoming fire," he looked over his shoulder straight at Aya in the eyes, "What I mean to say is, it doesn't bother me," that would be right. "Okay," Aya nodded, feigning agreement, "Radio the vehicle in front to break formation and overtake. Then follow it," she primed herself for clambering back out the window. "Excuse me?" he asked, perplexed, and almost sounding as if he were to call her crazy. "You heard me. We're sitting ducks at this speed, and the extremists have already proven they have large firepower. If this convoy doesn't bump up to 80 miles per hour in the next 10 seconds I'm taking over command of the humvee. The head unit can do whatever the hell it likes," Aya had left if up to his imagination as to how 'taking over command' would actually go, figuring he would comply as she pulled herself back out the window. "I think the pool's clear of hostiles for the moment. No word on if the tech survived." "Got it. We'll know if he's still kicking. Just shoot whatever the hell looks most threatening for the time being," she lurched after this sentence, the humvee had started accelerating. Aya never believed the 'I told you so' scenario to exist, an RPG hitting the forward humvee just as they passed. Ironically, as if to live on, the blasted out vehicle still returned fire with its hammering music. One last 'f*ck you' to the extremists. The last humvee in the group was stuck behind the wreckage, quickly rounds beat the armor off of it and tore up everyone inside; the icing on the cake being the second RPG throwing it into the air and onto its head at the other side of the road. Now Aya really felt like saying 'I told you so', the three specialists all hanging out of humvee No.3 recovered from the shattering of the first humvee. Aya utilized the ringing in her ear to focus on her shooting a little more, ambient sound blocked out. 4 vehicles reduced to 2, it made you feel slightly surrounded. The digital counter above their force dipped in the amount of rounds being sent back at the opposition, "We'll be out of the defense grid soon, just another half klick," the driver called behind. "Got it!" Aya shouted back down, "Keep your sh*t together guys, don't let them get an advantage in this last stretch," burnt out pedestrian cars were becoming more prominent as they drew closer to the University, "Hang on..." she shifted, "Ty-" Aya couldn't finish her sentence before the extremist holding an RPG popped out of his cover behind a black sedan. Snapshot, no scope to boot. It hadn't been in the head but it was enough to change the aim of the RPG before it could fire. Aya leaned back as it passed between her and Tyson, leaning forwards just before she collided with a derelict van. They rolled over the incapacitated extremist, a satisfying crunch emitting from under the wheels, "Just watch these wreckages, make sure we aren't ambushed anymore," she turned her attention to the more built up area they entered, plenty of windows from plenty of sharpshooters; this was where she would be needed most.
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Post by Mikey on Aug 9, 2010 7:18:45 GMT -5
Tyson couldn’t hear a word that was said between any of the occupants of the humvee. The debate, argument, order, whatever Aya said to the driver, his retort, Matt’s report, none of it. The gunfire, a lot of it coming from him, the wind rushing by, the sound of the engine of the humvee, the music that was still blaring. It drowned out any kind of noise that could be heard. All he knew was that they started to pick up speed, started to pass by another hummer when it exploded in a ball of flame and twisted metal.
He turned to fire at the source of the rocket, following the trail of smoke back to the rocket’s position with his eyes as he moved the machine gun to aim. He caught a glimpse of the man with the empty tube retreating, and held down the trigger of the gun as he watched the concrete wall being used as cover be demolished. Blood seeped out of the pile of rocks, and he moved his line of fire across the wall. The entire thing collapsed, rounds that penetrating either killing others taking cover or trapping them under the pile of debris and taking them out of the fight all the same.
He heard another explosion, seeing the hummer in back flip through the air after most of the armor that kept it firmly weighted to the ground was torn off by enemy fire. He did the exact same thing, following the smoke trail with his eyes as he brought the machine gun around and fired on the position. He’d never even seen the hostile Aya was trying to call out, didn’t hear her call out, hardly heard her sniper rifle go off several inches from him. He only heard the rocket, the sharp whistle and whoosh it made as it passed by him by several inches and hit the concrete behind them. He saw Aya’s barrel, knew it had to be her that saved their asses. He leaned down, about to call out to her when he heard the crunch. He couldn’t contain the loud, single laugh that escaped his lips.
“Good shooting, Harpy.” He yelled out. He’d always wondered why Clay had chosen that name for her at a moments notice. The other names, they made sense. Phoenix for him, because of his pyromania tendencies. Pegasus for Emily because… He’d actually never understood that one either. Guess he’d just been crazy.
Background noise all but gone, gunfire stopped and the music low to a point, Tyson heard Aya’s call to watch for ambushes. He figured this meant him more than Matt. Both of them had rifles, they could watch up top where he wouldn’t. Even if he could spot a sniper, which was doubtful, he wouldn’t be able to aim up with the Browning higher than the third or so story of a building.
It wasn’t long when he spotted movement behind a car, opening fire and watching gunfire shred the civilian vehicle like tin foil. Men fell to the ground and bled to death, the group rewarded with another crunch and thud that the body made under the tires. It seemed like the driver had moved a foot or so over to be able to run the f**ker over. Tyson liked this guy.
On high guard now that he knew they would be lying in wait ahead for the hummer, he kept his finger on the trigger and half depressed it to be able to snap fire out at half a second or less notice.
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Post by .Merios on Aug 9, 2010 11:29:52 GMT -5
Matthew didn't wrack his mind over the situation on the freeway- the rpg, the man under the tires- it was all the same for him. Death and destruction tend to blur together after a while and he started to lose grip on any aspect of peace. As the convoy was being picked off around them, he felt as if he failed somehow- he should have been a better soldier and picked off the man who fired them. He snapped out of it as the humvee was getting up to top speed. It was too fast for Matthew to stay in the window- his hair was getting whipped around his face and the Browning was starting to sway. He arched his back and heaved the gun up and brought it in the window with him.
He let out a long sigh as he plopped down on the seat, letting the rifle drop between his legs- barrel first. He was in his "sneaking suit" as one of the soldiers put it, and it made him stick out like a sore thumb compared to the other heavily armored men. He didn't mind, he was inside the vehicle and the armor could shear off the rounds that counted. He reached down and opened a small hatch that served as a make-shift glove compartment. He fished around and pulled out what looked like a throat mic setup. He wasn't sure if Aya and Tyson had a rig, but he slid his around his neck and head, securing the earwig and tuning the channels until he heard some voices on the other end.
He breathed heavily and just started to relax, leaning back in his seat a little. He heard a loud and flat retort from a rifle just as the soldier next to him in the driver's seat took a round to the cheek, snapping his head to the right and spraying Matthew with all matter of blood and sinew. The humvee started swaying violently as the man took his hand off the wheel. Aya was still in the back seat, so he had to take over- there was no other option.
Matthew, with disdain, reached for the man's neck with his left hand and his right hand reached past and hit the door handle and unlocked the door. With a snap of his wrist, Matthew pulled the man's dog tags off his neck with a pop and he threw his body over to the driver's seat, the man's body getting shunted off the seat and into the open door, which slid him down to the road and carried him out of the vehicle, his limp body bouncing off the pavement like a broken rag doll. Matthew grimaced and quickly slammed the door shut, rolling up the window. He knew the bulletproof glass wouldn't protect him from everything, but it was worth a shot.
"Do you read me? We've got a man down." Matthew brought the dog tags up to the steering wheel as he started to drive the vehicle, keeping in line with the rest of the convoy. He read the name on the tag: Franklin Booth.
"Our driver... Franklin Booth? Yeah, he took a round to the head. I had to take over."
He wasn't sure if anyone heard him, but he wasn't yelling. It was his normal voice, which meant anyone not listening over the wild gun fire from the turret and the loud music, but Matthew quickly solved one of those problems as he reached his right hand to the dash and switched off the radio. After the loud music left, he could feel how disturbing it was to the air.
"Shortcut? We're losing more men than we originally thought."
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 9, 2010 22:37:05 GMT -5
The shot went high and wide, targeted extremist ducking back into cover, "F*ck!" Aya cursed, the humvee's mannerisms had screwed that one up, 'What the hell is going on?' she leaned to look in the drivers seat window just as the driver was shoved out, a waterfall of blood spewing from his nose. Matthew took his place. "He took a round to the head. I had to take over." "Christ," repositioning herself. Now it was just them and whoever was left in the humvee in front, "Just keep it to the floor," aiming was becoming strenuous as they passed through a valley of buildings, close to the curb, "Get us out of here as quickly as possible," the Ivory commander barked, the word 'killzone' blinking in her head. Probably jynxed it, "Keep an eye above, Tyson!" she pulled herself back through the window as half a dozen M4's popped up from the rooftops and began sraying wildly down on their position, bullets tackling the roof. Every time Aya went to aim out the window another nearmiss would occur, growling. She slipped a flashbang from her harness, twist and pulled the pin out, "Watch for the fireworks," sticking her tongue out as she haphazardly threw the grenade into the air, arm exposed; gravity caught it at just the right height, blinding all of the hostiles along the tops of the buildings. Two of them fell off; genius. The rest either stumbled back out of sight or held their spot for easy pickings. "Shortcut? We're losing more men than we originally thought." "Hold our course!" Aya barked pulling another snapshot, "So long as we get there, that's all that matters," taking cover behind Tyson as a hostile on the ground popped out throwing a bullet flurry, "I have a feeling there's been plenty of casualties along this avenue anyway. We're almost free, give the boys in front a nudge to hustle a little faster," back inside the humvee again to reload, she went the extra length to replace the rounds in her stock bandolier as well. An extremist ran out screaming, brandishing his rifle from behind a school bus. Aya booted her passenger door open slamming the man to the ground. Ahead of the convoy were blockades facing in the direction they were headed; Aya switched lenses, zooming on in to identify the people hiding behind it all, "That's it!" she shouted; they were extremists firing outside the grid, "Gun'em down! Take out every one hiding behind that cover," she passed her rifle to the seat beside and whipped out the Pro-9. The humvee ahead of them had gotten the attention of the hostiles, causing them to turn and face the last humvee the three of them occupied. A handful of extremists copped it before they could think of opening fire. All the way up to the barricade an unstoppable force pummelled the crap out of anything in its way, then like I/O it cutout as soon as they passed the cover; instead the cavalry pitched in with positioned PMC mercs raining back to where the three of them escaped. One long, steady exhale from the woman in command. It brought back memories of similar instances back in Baghdad, flashbacks even; Aya had to blink away the shellshock; there were never a lot of comrades left over after a run like that, "Nice driving," she patted Matt on the shoulder. She would commend Tyson later, his hands were likely still fused to the gun. Scenery turned more pleasant for the rest of the drive, they had good tickets for watching the rest of the PMC's engage Collateral at different areas. The one they had their eye out for was the University, "I don't know whether I'd still want to call this suburb Paradise after everything blows over," the humvee in front pulled over and mercs pooled out to backup their friends, "Next left," she navigated, "Then it should just be another 200 metres," along the left hand side of the road was the biggest parking lot you would likely ever experienced, "We'll circle around the Thomas & Mack Centre..." she pointed at the big circular building which was half surrounded by the parking lot, "Then cut through the administration building on the other side. After that it's resorts and clubs leading up to the convention centre," they turned the final corner, "We'll be right on top of one of the extremists backup stations once we're out of the Uni. We can either sabotage a bunch of crap or give it a miss,""Pull over here," from where they were, it was a little too quiet for comfort; they were far from the head conflict. You could either use the silence as reassurance or let it put you on edge, 'I always feel safer knowing where my enemy is,' her rifle charged, "Keep your eyes peeled," scrambling to the wall which seperated the road they were on to the parking lot at the other side, flashes and gunfire emerged from the University's sporting centre, "The fight must be in there. Let's just circle around the building and cut through whatever gets in our way,"
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Post by Mikey on Aug 10, 2010 2:22:45 GMT -5
“Give it a miss?” Tyson said with a skeptical tone. They’d made it through the hot zone, unscathed for the most part. Them three, anyway. The same couldn’t be said for the other men who went in to get them this far. They had to know the odds, and they came anyway. Brave men or women, all of them. The trip before had been rough, and unfortunately, when it had started to settle down, about the time they had been looking at the rooftops instead of the enforced areas at either side, their numbers were cut down to near nothing.
“You want me to pack this bag full of goodies past an ammo dump, a bunker, a friggin toilet even, and not drop one off? Have you lost your mind?” He said. He’d dismounted the turret and climbed to the roof when the hummer came to a stop, hopping to the ground and swinging his rifle to the front. He pulled out the stock to its longest setting and chambered a cartridge after a bit of a fumble, grabbing for an ambidextrous charging handle when this weapon used a more standard right sided one.
“Cant be done, I’m blowing something up before the days out.” He said. He saw the gunfire and explosives, the smoke and sound, the yells of both victory and defeat coming from the sporting center, and he wanted to go in and clean some house. But he knew where to draw the line. They needed to play it quiet. Going in full bore to an in progress firefight was bad. Dropping some bombs here and there and leaving them to detonate at a later time, that was still pretty stealthy.
Tyson took point, shouldering the rifle and holding the grip. He pressed it tightly into his shoulder, wear marks on the dull grey paint of the shoulder of the armor from constant recoil of different weapons. He made his way to the wall of the sports center, moving along it do they didn’t have to worry about watching on of the sides. He moved forward, peeking out a bit and checking their situation. Nothing to see yet, too quiet for a big bunch of them to be around. Probably all dealing with the group of ballsy PMC’s sticking it to them inside the building itself.
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Post by .Merios on Aug 10, 2010 3:43:49 GMT -5
As he pulled the humvee over to a stop, he was breathing heavily. They had barely made it through the warzone and he wasn't quite ready to jump back into combat so quickly. He shook off that feeling and opened his door just as Mikey hit the ground and extended the stock on his rifle. Matthew stepped out and stretched, giving off a short grunt as he brought his arms back to his side, relaxing. He moved to the back of the humvee, to the cargo area. It wasn't large, about the size as a regular trunk, but it held his equipment. He reached in the trunk, lifting up a box and unloading it onto the ground with a thud. He knelt down and retrieved what looked like a tranquilizer gun and two odd-shaped banana magazines that fashioned into the side of the pistol. He slid it into his chest holster and placed two of the magazines into pouches side by side.
Finally, he withdrew the two .40's from before, the ebony chrome pistols glistened as the sun slid across the smooth surface of the grip and polished finish. They both had under-barrel green laser sights but were missing their suppressors. He buried his head into the box again and withdrew the two suppressors. One by one, he screwed them into place over the modified barrel of either gun. They were already loaded with a magazine each, so he slid them into each thigh holster, strapping the velcro over the grip to hold them fast. His hands reached into the box and withdrew two magazines each and placed them into the pouches on either side of the pistols on his thighs.
He swung his MP-5 around from his back to his torso and bent down, retrieving the weapon's own suppressor from the box and screwing it tight. He swung it back around to his back and withdrew four magazines for the sub-machine gun and slid them into their pouches on either side of his belt. He finished off his equipment with a black mag-lite flashlight on his front and finally strapped a large combat knife around his right femur, sheathed with a dark cloth, blending into his black outfit. He turned to the two and sighed a bit, flexing his arms and legs to make sure everything moved correctly before stepping up to the doorway that Tyson was standing by. He didn't move yet- he waited for an all-clear signal before advancing. He wasn't to break on his own yet, and he didn't have a gun withdrawn- that was part of his plan.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 10, 2010 10:15:46 GMT -5
"Trust me Ty, you'll be making an explosion so big that Clay could light a cigar on it," the group met the wall of the sporting centre, Aya placed a hand on Tyson's shoulder to Opt-In; it was a bit awkward considering Matthew probably didn't have a full set of squad based training, so as soon as his footsteps sounded near enough she tapped Ty and the group moved forwards, "We'd at least make him proud," figuring she had perhaps exaggerated a little too far; almost exaggerating the exaggeration.
"We may be able to use this ambient to our advantage," speaking of the gunfire inside the centre, "Should let us keep weapons free until we're into the denfense grid a little further, then we'll have to pick our targets carefully," the suppressors Matt toted were a welcome bonus, Aya could rely on him to quickly top any problems, "Y'know I can't remember the last time I was in Vegas, I'd call it a dream location for a war to break out. A real change in theme. Something different from the typical Middle Eastern wars," they proceeded to climb over a raised area, guard rail blocking it all the way down to the street; little point moving around it, "The heat doesn't change though,"
40 metres or so ahead of them a stage door burst open with Collarteral extremists fleeing and returning fire, a nearby bench and block garden gifted a decent hiding spot, "Have the PMC's finally pushed into this area?" Aya watched as six or so mercs in tan garb pushed out, the glint of metal from fiber wire flashed as one merc set off a trigger, claymores at either side of the block garden opening blasted in their direction wiping out the half dozen soldiers. Knowing their plan full and well, the extremists barged back into the centre, "Well... that was quick,"
Peeking in provided a view of the conflict, about as loose as low rank could get, "Okay, let's move," Aya whispered, skidding past the wide open stage door, feeling well exposed in the white light, "If that was any indication that the fight will move then we should get to admin asap. It's also a pretty good hint to keep an eye out for any traps as well," a nuance in her voice posed the sudden annoyance of the quick deaths.
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Post by Mikey on Aug 10, 2010 11:25:17 GMT -5
Tyson looked back at Aya for a moment, an eyebrow cocked up behind his mask. He smirked. “That’s… A bit too big, but your thinking, I like it.” He said, an oddly upbeat tone in his voice. He turned back and felt her hand on his shoulder. His rifle shot up from its position pointed toward the ground, his finger went onto the trigger. He gripped the Surefire tightly and peered down the EOTech sight, the magnifier flipped down to the left. He felt the tap and started moving, sweeping his rifle to the extreme right and panned left. When it was clear, it shot back to the right. He continued this, checking any and every object that could be used for cover, as well as any place that could be used as a snipers nest or hiding place for an ambush. They knew they liked to set up ambushes, and that made them a bit more dangerous.
“I’d have to agree.” Tyson said, his voice low and casual. “Still like the head though.” He added. How could someone who had spent so much time in a desert dislike high temperatures as much as she did? It boggled his mind. You figure someone would get used to it, maybe not enjoy it like Tyson did, but at least get accustomed.
He vaulted over the rail, using his left hand to brace himself, hopped up with both legs and swung them over in one motion. A true testament of how well he worked in his armor. The door flew open ahead of them, and he moved to the nearest thing that could give him partial cover. A garbage can made of cement. He knelt down, only his rifle, his head, and his right shoulder sticking out as he watched the scene unfold.
“Christ… Gotta deal with that s*** now?” He said. Claymores… Nasty f**kers, shred military body armor like cotton. Turn a human being’s torso into strawberry jelly. Great… Now he was hungry. “Quicker than a mugging…” He said, an everyday happening when he was a kid. Something he did more than once. Became a game to his ‘family’. See who could make off with the goods fastest. They made their way into the building, on a stage, it seemed. Odds were this area wasn’t booby trapped. Those Collateral dicks had to get through here to spring their trap. Not to mention the other merc’s hadn’t set anything off, probably meant the immediate area was clean. But Tyson still scanned the floor ever few feet for tripwires or other triggering mechanisms. “Admin, that’d be…” He said, thinking for a moment, looking for a map or directional plate on a wall somewhere. Nothing.
“F***… Like I know my way around a school.” He said. He was pretty sure it was in his file that his highest form of education was a G.E.D. Only thing that got him into the Rangers was high marks in training and firearm proficiency. He would have been Green Beret’s if he’d have had some college under his belt. “Anyone wanna take point, find out where to go?” He asked.
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Post by .Merios on Aug 10, 2010 14:26:26 GMT -5
Once they penetrated the building, the gunfire seemed muffled outside. In the distance, he could hear footsteps approaching the door. He quickly back stepped and dropped to the ground- he didn't have any cover where he was- right out in the open. He swung his MP-5 around and shouldered it, lifting the ACOG to the door and switched it to thermal. The door itself was pitch black, but he saw white hot figures approaching it from behind. The second they opened the door, the heat signatures dissipated and bled out to the walls and the ceiling. He swallowed a gulp and pulled his eye from the scope.
"Claymores.." He whispered to himself as they started moving forward.
Matthew let go of his MP-5 and let it swing low and hit the right side of his torso. He straightened back up as Tyson vaulted over the railing that was in front of Matthew a few feet. Matthew calmly walked over to it and gripped the higher rail, pulling and swinging his body underneath it and above the lower rail and straightening up afterward. He quickly roadie-ran across the wide open space and pressed himself up against the wall near where the claymore went off. He looked to Aya and Tyson, raising an eyebrow, listening to their conversation. He wasn't speaking, he could have, but he didn't really have anything to say.
He peeked through the doorway and pulled his head back. He reached back and pulled his MP-5 from around his back. He pressed it to his chest and quickly shouldered it and lifted it up, planting his right eye to the sight to see down the hall through his ACOG's FLIR imager. He noticed there were what looked like two square heat signatures down the hall about fifty feet from them and another four squares seemingly underneath a welcoming mat near the end of the hallway. Though, there weren't any warm bodies.
"We've got.. Two Claymores about... Fifty feet ahead. Wire at knee-height. Ten yards from there, there's a mat with four mines, drop-trigger."
He shrugged and brought his gun back down and pushed away from the wall.
"What, are we in 'Nam?" He said sarcastically, commenting on the archaic mines.
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Post by Lunapocalypse on Aug 11, 2010 13:26:25 GMT -5
"I'd rather their stuff didn't get any more sophisticated than that. They could be really mean and use motion trip," she scowled while stepping past Tyson, 'I can't be the only one with a sense of direction,' Aya closed her eyes, drawing on architecture theory; a practical layout for either guest or worker in moving around the building.
Trap locations sought out on Matt's behalf, "Maybe they were expecting someone to come down this way," crouching down, "If that's the case then we should expect someone to be through those doors," and drawing her sidearm, "Just a little premature detonation," tilting her head to catch the light on the tripwire before cutting it with a clean round. From there the blast set off the mines, the doorway crunching from the explosion.
Once things settled commotion could be heard moving in their direction from the other side of the doorway. Aya had prepared ahead, the pin of her second flashbang casually skitting across the floor, "Follow through, Ty, clear anything on the right, Matt, anything on the left," she already moved while letting the grenade go, her right shoulder pressed against her right ear with her left hand over her left ear, all while maintaining her aim; she just needed to brace herself for the flash as all the hostiles in the room were covered in disorientation.
Passing through the doorway; a corridor of sorts, perhaps a hub which lead off to other major rooms; the change in space caused Aya to feel as if she may have underestimated how many extremists might be occupying it. Either way they had to be taken down, no debate there; as soon as the Ivory girl made it two metres in she crouched giving Ty and Matt freedom of view while opening fire on darkened figures in front. Her golden eyes breaking free of the squint to give full picture, combat hype kicking in, 'KILL!'
PMC mercs pushed from one length of the corridor hub generating haggard fire, it made half the situation confusing; seemed they had stepped into the limelight at the wrong time, "Move," Aya's voice rumbled as she made a path through the staggering hostiles, another perfect opportunity to utilize their friendly force to disappear; perhaps not so perfect with the friendly fire pointing in their direction but effective improvisation none the less.
Door kicked in. The squeek of shoes on floor of the basketball court were umpleasant ones; running on both Matt and Tyson's BDU, they were designed to be quiet on surfaces; the culprit were Aya's pair of Converse, 'Christ,' she tread gently, 'We'd know if any Collateral were in the room with an echo like that, at least,'
One corner of the court were glass walls, so to speak; it stood about 3 or so metres high before meeting concrete. The Western wall looking into the sporting centre lobby while the Northern window, curve in its character matching the circular building, faced out to the street, "See there, over that campus road. That's the administration building," she briefly explained while crossing the court, "We'll be back on the streets once we're through that,"
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Post by Mikey on Aug 12, 2010 6:15:43 GMT -5
Tyson saw the annoyed look on Aya’s face as she passed, and sighed. “Ok, if we have to go through an army base, a prison, or a hospital, that’s all me.” He said, trying to make up for that fact that he hadn’t known jack about the place. As he would soon see, it wouldn’t have mattered. The mines Matt pointed out indicated that that was the right way to go, at least in his mind. Why booby trap a door unless you wanted it protected? Why protect a door that went nowhere? Unless they were just f**king with people for s***s and giggles. He shot a glance at Matt when he commented on the Claymores, and cocked an eyebrow.
“You know the army still uses those, right?” He asked.
He didn’t wait for an answer, as it would have been cut out by the blast anyway. He snickered when he thought about what Aya said. “Nickel for every time you’ve had that problem, huh?” He said with a laugh, moving to his position. She pulled the pin from a flash grenade, and he closed his eyes as well as sticking his thumbs into his ears. Easy enough to do with the rifle in his right hand. He could keep a grip on it with hardly any effort. It had to be fifteen or twenty pounds lighter than his last rifle. The bang went off, and he moved in with Aya, staying to the right. Again, it didn’t much matter. Tyson raised his rifle, squeezed the trigger just as another group of mercs pushed in and started cleaning house. He aborted his shot and moved into the next room.
“Well, that was anti climactic…” Tyson said as they entered the gym. He heard the loud squeaking, and looked around for a moment. What the hell? He followed it through the echo after a few seconds and his eyes fell on Aya’s shoes. “Nice choice, ya. Totally incognito.” He said with a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. They made it to the other side, to the tall windows and observed the building across the road. Aya explained it was where they needed to go, and he nodded.
“See, this is a lot simpler than I thought. I thought college was hard.” He said, panning the wall and seeing the door out. “All right, to that fountain for cover.” He said, pointing to a rock fountain made of bricks with various names on it. It looked less like a memorial and more like a fundraiser, people paying for a brick and having their name on it put into the fountain. It looked sturdy, looked like it’s stop a lot of rounds, short of big bore rifles or machine guns. Or if one of those bastards with the magnet guns came around.
He stacked up at the door, waiting for the others to line up behind. He got the signal from Aya behind him, and opened the door, moved out, and slid to a knee at the fountain where he began to look for more hostiles.
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