|
Post by thegunny on Oct 9, 2008 18:27:27 GMT -5
The radio operator replied
Affirmative. Our coordinates are...(insert here), we are in the initial objective area. Follow along...
The radio operator fed the directions to Jones to link up with them right as the last Stryker entered the town to the rear of the convoy. The town around them was startling quiet, deserted, and desolate. There were no women and kids in the streets, nor men. The streets, windows, and roof tops were such that Wallace could imagine a wild-west tumble weed rolling through the streets just to punctuate the ghost town blues that seemed to emanate from the surroundings. That didn't last very long though, as a Mogadishu ripoff barricade came into view after a few seconds straight ahead at the end of the street, with them only able to turn right. The barricade had a multitude of furniture, trash, T.V's, heavy objects, hunks of stone, and some broken car parts like doors and engine hoods were all thrown together in a stone wall-strength blockade that would stop any attempts to bypass via Humvees Wallace growled
F**k. By d**n its gonna be Somalia all over again if they're doing what I think they're doing... and do it right...
Wallace keyed his radio and made his report, then put forth the request since he was at a loss as to what to do. He felt there was an ambush in store if they let the Iraqi's give them the "directions to the nearest W.M.D cache".
Captain Brown, we have a blockade cutting us off from our desired route forcing us to turn right. Its made out of....
Wallace listed the materials before saying "requesting orders, sir." After a moment Brown said
Convoy, halt. Stryker's to the front.
The convoy came to a stop almost perfectly insync with what Brown had in plan, despite the convoy having to make way to the right for the Strykers to comfortably get to the front from the left of the road. The Strykers then commenced with Brown's follow up orders. They drove forward and drove up to the barricade, knocking it apart perfectly with the hull except for where they had to stop because of their tires. The front most Stryker dismounted its infantry occupants who then started to help the Stryker as rapidly as possible move stuff out of the way of the tires and get it through now that the barricade had been broken open. Within a few moments it was suitable for tires to pass over. The infantry remounted and the convoy continued through with the Strykers in the lead past the blockade. That kind of routine probably wouldn't have worked under fire. Definitely probably, at least not as well. Wallace knew they had gotten lucky on that. He could practically hear the hornets nest being stirred now that they hadn't gone into the Iraqi's ambush. The street s ahead for now remained clear, but for how much farther was yet to be seen. Several men popped up a few moments before the last vehicle got past the blockade, eying the convoy from a almost fully concealed and almost fully in cover position, appearing to possibly be talking into a cellphone or portable radio as well.
|
|
|
Post by Bakuyu on Oct 11, 2008 14:40:33 GMT -5
Bandit was sitting in the back seat on the rightside, watching the situation unfold, and how fast they came up with a plan, and executed it. The army was an amazing thing, full of great leadership, and teamwork. Bandit thought to himself, as he continues wiping the lens on his scope. He held it out, and looked out the window with it, testing it. He caught a glimpse of something. He peaked away from the scope, and scanned the area. He couldn't see anything. He swore he saw something in the window. He even said it aloud, mainly to himself, but enough for someone to maybe pick it up. Bandit hated urban combat, it wasn't his way of fighting. He'd perfer a nice tall tower, a couple hundred yards away, atleast. That was his ideal style of combat. No matter, his MP9 could take care of him in close quarters. The fire rate was amazing, and the gun whispered with the silencer on. But the size of it was the most fasinating part of the gun. Without the stock and supressor, the gun was no bigger then his desert eagle. Walking around with all this gear, and the 50 cal, there was little room for extra equipment. Bandit leaned forward to the Summers. "Sir, These streets, where are all the people?" The SS of all people had to of known. "This place is crawling with insergions, I can feel it." The people are all inside, they know somethings about to go down. If it were up to him, he'd drop a bomb on the whole Dam* city. He sighed, and leaned back in his seat, staring out the window. He didn't have a good feeling.
|
|
|
Post by thegunny on Oct 13, 2008 18:30:53 GMT -5
OOC: I'm not quite so good at settings unfortunately, so sorry if it seems like I'm lacking detail on what the buildings around us look like. Colonel Jones, you and your group can enter the fray right about now.
As the convoy continues down the street, after a few moments another barricade came into view. It wasn't as solid, dense, or well put together. Apparently it was hastily made. Again, they only had one way to turn. It seemed apparent that they wanted them to turn right again. The Stryker's in the lead jumped to conclusions and began to do what they had done to the last barricade without putting out security. The national guards infantry began to dismount with the lead Stryker starting to bull doze its way through. By the time brown got the report from Justin on what they were doing and said for them to wait for them to set up security, things had already began to hit the fan. A burst of machine gun fire from a distant PKM wounded two of the national guardsmen, one of them staggering as he moved forward to get away from the burst of machine gun fire, the other hitting the ground squirming forward to get out of the gunfire as well. The machine gunfire ended ominously, everything growing quiet for several seconds. The national guardsmen who had dismounted all crouched and readied their weapons, the Stryker trying to bulldoze the barricade forgotten. 1. 2. 3 seconds later the dramatic echo of rapid foot steps rang throughout the buildings around them and through the streets. 5 seconds later men were aiming down from the roof tops at them, men were aiming out of the windows, and out poured insurgents from nearby alleys too small to accept the convoys. Doors were thrown open. Gunfire erupted from all around with RPG's randomly being lopped over the edges of the roof tops down into the street, exploding mostly near harmlessly to the sides of Humvee's, with odd novice's with the RPG's firing the RPG's in the air as if they were mortars. The convoy returned fire as best it could, but they realized that they couldn't go forward anymore because the three Stryker's had blocked the way, which were still blocked by the barricade. The infantry that had dismounted were all pinned down, at least a platoon's worth of national guardsmen. Brown gritted his teeth anxiously as everything took place. Finally, he roared into the radio himself
DISMOUNT ON MY MARK! COMBAT DISMOUNT ON MY MARK! CLEAR THOSE BUILDINGS AND SUPPORT THE STRYKERS!
Wallace heard the order and waiting, already beginning to follow through it, echoing to everyone that could hear him
PREPARE TO DISMOUNT! DIRECTION ACTION DRILL! OUT OF THE KILL ZONE GUNS BLAZING! Steady! Steady!
The windows had luckily been rolled up. The bullets sprayed all around the Humvee, not penetrating but cracking the windows to the point that they might as well be light blue colored plaster walls. They were d**n lucky to have up-armored Humvee's. The gunners though, unfortunately, got the short end of the stick in all of this. Luckily they had the big metal plating that covered them in what ever direction they were firing in, though to the rear they were wide open. Brown silently checked the map he had as he waited for the gunfire to wane for a moment, the 40mm "Thumper" grenade launcher above him lobbing away at the surrounding insurgents constantly with an explanatory "Thump thump thump" followed by an explosion. He had an assumption on the matter of a military compound in this town. Knowing how much the Iraqi's loved their tunnel's he expected that a military compound in the town, although intelligence analysts said otherwise because they had no proof, would also have a way into the bunker. Their original breaching point was no longer attainable. As he suspected, the military base was much closer and within walking distance. He realized that the Humvee's would have to be let go if they were to get into the bunker in one piece. Whether they chose to go through the barricades or turn according to the barricades, it was apparent that the Humvee's would only result in one thing after another--- an ambush. His mind was made up right then. His eyebrow twitched, stunned.
The gunfire hadn't waned, but the amount of it aimed directly at them sure as hell had. It seemed now like their was more then just them and the insurgents in the fight now. A 3 way fight? Brown was trying to figure out who they could be shooting at, forgetting that the convoy was waiting on his order. Luckily, Wallace was focused enough to give the order.
DISMOUNT! DISMOUNT! OUT OF THE KILL ZONE!
Wallace didn't follow through with his own order for a few seconds, Brown finally stammering as he came back down to earth
DISMOUNT!
That of course, excluded the Gunner's. The Humvee doors all erupted open and out burst the strike force combat members, non-military personnel staying inside. For each Humvee, one person didn't immediately get away from the Humvee. -------------------------------- Wallace exited the Humvee gun blazing before his boots even touched the pavement. He brought his 6.5 Grendel to the meaty section of his shoulder in the proper firing position and clicked it to full auto. He sprinted directly from the door firing as he did so, the 6.5 Grendel rounds zipping from the barrel down range into the openings of the building in front of him's front door. The gunfire zipping out of that door stopped firing, either from Wallace hitting his target randomly, or just the power of suppressive fire. He was 2 thirds the way there when he kicked his legs forward and threw his weight to the ground, sliding the rest of the way to the front of the building behind the walls of the building he had just ran towards. He was to the right of the door between it and a front window. He glanced around and saw other men and women starting to line up against the sides of the buildings as well having gotten away from the Humvee's.
|
|
|
Post by Colonel Jones on Oct 14, 2008 10:33:01 GMT -5
Summers and his squad continued toward the city and suddenly started to hear gunfire and a few explosions. Salazar pushed harder onto the gas pedal and the Humvee accelerated quickly. As they finally reached the outskirts of the city, Summers heard Brown on the radio calling for a...Combat dismount? Wow, they must have been in some trouble if Brown was calling a dismount.
As the squad entered the city, the gunfire and explosions got worse. Summers heard bandit ask his question "I'm actually not too sure...Oh and Bandit, don't call me sir...I'm only a Staff Sergeant." He said with a bit of a smile.Johnsen was scanning the buildings as well as he could, keeping an eye out for insurgents. Summers was looking out both his and Salazar's windows, trying to find out were the convoy was. Suddenly, an RPG hit about ten feet from the Humvee and Salazar turned rapidly. He slammed on the brakes and they came to a sliding stop. Johnsen started firing and Summers looked out the front window. He saw the convoy and they were being ambushed, but very quickly after Summers noticed, bullets were hitting the Humvee.
"Johnsen, Get back in here. I can't afford to lose any of you." Summers called out. Johnsen slid back into the vehicle and Summers began to talk into the radio. This is Kilo 1-4-4. We are taking fire approx. 7 meters to the east of your position. There are roadblocks to our left and we are getting hit hard. We are about to dismount and start clearing a nearby building, over"
|
|
|
Post by Mikey on Oct 31, 2008 7:05:31 GMT -5
"Oh sh*t, oh sh*t, oh sh*t..." Mikey kept repeating to himself while he manned the turrent. He was a sitting duck right here. A sitting duck that could shoot back with a gun big enough to turn a human body into swiss cheese, but a sitting duck none the less. He realised that as the gunner he had to stay here and provide covering fire, but that didnt mean he had to like it.
He swung the gun this way and that, turning the cheap mortor and dirt that houses were made of into rubble with a fresh coat of paint in th color of blood red. He pi*sed metal in quantities that would make people want to buy stocks in the company that made the rounds. One thing was proven and ensured. If he was going down, he was going with enough company to start a football team.
|
|