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Docks
Jul 20, 2011 23:21:50 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jul 20, 2011 23:21:50 GMT -5
“Sounds like a plan.” Harrison said as he got out of the truck, shutting the door behind him and shouldering his weapon. He moved in tandem with Conner, sweeping the area with his muzzle as they went. When they got to the lift that would take them to the top, he stopped and took a look behind them, scanning to see if anything had snuck up behind them. Nothing.
Hitting the controls for the lift, he waited for it to get down to them and stepped on. Pushing the button to go back to the top, he slung his Remington over his shoulder and pulled out his .45. It would be better to use in the cramped quarters of the crane cabin, if it had something waiting for them.
“Do you even know how to use this thing?” He asked suddenly. What good would it be if Conner couldn’t even operate it. Harrison sure couldn’t…
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Jul 22, 2011 17:50:56 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Jul 22, 2011 17:50:56 GMT -5
Connor smiled and nodded. "I've been around some of this equipment a bit so I know how to get it moving. If it turns out to be a viable way to block things off though, we will get a few of the ACE (Army Corp of Engineer) teams to get out here. Today, I just want to see what if it turns on and get a bird's eye view of the place."
Like Harrison, he let his AR-15 hang by its sling and he had out his sidearm. He watched as the little elevator took them higher. Most people would be affected by the height, but not Connor. He smiled as a blast of fresh air hit the elevator and his face.
"Basics today is to see how far we can accurately scope down to the ground. We'll be bringing back a few snipers and the can provde high cover."
The elevator finally came to a stop at the top of the crane tower. Connor assumed that they were at least 40 stories up... taller than their apartment building. He cautiously opened the safety door on the elevator and stepped out... sidearm drawn and pointing down the shaft. Out to the left, the arm of the crane extended for at least 200 yards. To his right was a counter balance arm that was shorter, but it held more weight. Above them, the cab that operated the crane was up the stairs to his left.
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Jul 25, 2011 6:45:22 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jul 25, 2011 6:45:22 GMT -5
Harrison had to admit, Conner had all of this thought out. To be fair, Harrison didn’t have any real pull around here. He offered tactical support or advice, but the decision on what to do had never fallen to him. It was why he had never had put any thought into taking back more of the town. But, here was Conner with a sound plan.
“Well, what are you waiting for Slick?” He asked with a smirk, leading the way up the stairs. He looked into the window of the operators booth and his brow furrowed. Blood lined the windows.
“How the flying f**k do they find their way into places like this?” He said, looking back at Conner. A zombie about four hundred feet in the air… Christ. Probably someone who came up here to get away from them, with a bite. Turned inside the booth, and by the look of things, tried to claw their way out with little luck.
Walking forward and grasping the handle to the booth, he stayed to the side and looked to Conner. Giving a small nod and waiting for the response, he turned the handle and flung the door open, staying to the side to give Conner a clear line of fire.
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Docks
Aug 1, 2011 10:07:40 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Aug 1, 2011 10:07:40 GMT -5
Connor nodded and positioned his handgun towards the door. Lynch opened the door and as soon as something moved, Connor fired.
The body inside, which had been lunging forward had it's head snapped back with a loud crack. The body fell back into the seat. Connor moved closer to the door to look in. There was nobody else in there... alive or otherwise. Connor holstered his sidearm and then reached in with a gloved hand and grabbed the dead undead by the collar of his jacket and pulled it out onto the walkway. He drug it to the edge of the walkway, smearing a black oozing festering trail of tainted blood. At the end, he dropped it and pushed it over the edge. He watched as it fell some 20 stories and smacked on the ground. As it hit, he saw that it burst into pieces. Then he turned back to Harrison.
"Let she if we can get this thing moving."
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Aug 3, 2011 9:00:09 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Aug 3, 2011 9:00:09 GMT -5
“No, lets see if YOU can get this thing moving.” Harrison said with a smirk in his voice. He tapped Conner on the shoulder and motioned for him to hand off his weapon. While he did that, he would see just how far down they could get an accurate reading through a scope. No matter what, Conner’s M4 would fall short of a dedicated sniper rifle. But, if they could get even close to good readings with it, it meant that any sniper who knew what they were doing wouldn’t have a problem. Harrison couldn’t think of any better place for a sniper than up here.
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Aug 3, 2011 13:33:58 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Aug 3, 2011 13:33:58 GMT -5
"You got it." Connor said, handing over his M4 to Lynch. He shoved his handgun back into the holster and climbed up into the cab of the crane. He sat down and immediately regretted it. The undead had been sitting there, deteriorating and leaking out black ooze. Connor had just sat in it.
"Damn it", he shouted "I hate the undead!" He knew that his uniform would be burned by the end of the day. They key was till in the ignition, so he turned it on and felt the hum if it coming to life. Grabbing the controls joysticks at the left and the right, he began to take them through their paces.
"Be careful out there, Lynch. I'll try to raise the crane above your head, but I don't know how corroded it will be."
Connor turned the joysticks to the left an then to the right. He pulled back on them and then pushed forward. He was rewarded with movement in the crane, except to the right. Something was either wrong in the switch, or in the mechanics. Someone would need to look at it before they could implement his plan.
He lowered the crane to the ground and then pulled it back up. As the crane made it almost to the top, it sputtered and died. Frowning, Connor hit the ignition button but it failed to start. Then he looked at the gas gauge. The needle was below the E. It would need more gas as well.
Learning as much as he could, he exited the slimey cab and look over to where Lynch was at.
"So what do you think? How far can you target?"
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Aug 8, 2011 14:21:08 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Aug 8, 2011 14:21:08 GMT -5
Harrison looked back when he heard Conner curse about sitting in the gunk on the seat and let out a chuckle.
“That’s why you were checking the crane.” He said with a laugh, his eye at the scope. He wasn’t going to fire a shot, so that made it hard to see what kind of accuracy there would be with the rifle. But, he did know the general range of a 5.56 from an M4. He could get a good bead on the ground, he could read the lettering on Conner’s truck.
“A real sniper won’t have a problem up here.” He said, handing the rifle back and bringing his own Remington back to the front.
“Got anything else to do or are you ready to bring in the ACO?” He asked.
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Aug 9, 2011 9:59:28 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Aug 9, 2011 9:59:28 GMT -5
Connor looked around. Off in the distance a bit was a huge freighter full of cargo containers. Connor counted at least 8 rows that were each 4 containers tall and 15 deep. That would roughly give them 360 containers to work with. The ship was listing to port a bit and Connor didn't know if the load had just shifted, if it was caught up on something under the water... or if it was just damaged. But there was nothing else for them to do here.
"That's about it for today. We need to get the engineers out here to fix this crane and gas it up. Then they can start work. We also need to get some sort of radar to penetrate each of the containers to see what is in them. There might be useful items in there."
Connor motioned back to the elevator and stepped on it.
"Until then we can get back to HQ and start mapping out the areas to block off."
Connor pushed the button and the lift started to lower them toward the ground.
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Aug 11, 2011 9:40:32 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Aug 11, 2011 9:40:32 GMT -5
The lift creaked slightly as the two men made their way down to the ground, the sound of footsteps and moans coming toward them. The slight noise they had been making attracted a few zombies. The gunshot on the crane was probably what brought most of them, but who knew.
Shouldering his weapon and taking aim at the few he could see, he steadied his weapon by crouching down and resting it on the railing of the lift. He fired a shot, the buckshot cutting the air and hitting the target. It wasn’t true, what a lot of people thought. Shotguns were lethal at very long ranges. The particular one he was using, with a twenty eight inch barrel, could be lethal at up to a hundred yards with heavy buckshot. Further, if he were using slugs.
He figured they had a few minutes to get on the ground and in the truck before more got there. Plenty of time. They’d be gone before any sizable group got there. And they could handle any who grouped here when they came back in force.
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Aug 11, 2011 10:36:40 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Aug 11, 2011 10:36:40 GMT -5
Connor looked down at what Harrison was shooting at. By this point in his life, he had grown to having those creatures meander around. A handful didn't concern too much these days. You could out walk them most times if you wanted to get away.
So he let Harrison shoot them all. Connor knew that the shotgun was louder and draw more to their location, but they'd be gone before the zombies collected in any number. Plus the sound of the truck would draw them away from the area so that they wouldn't be here when they came back with the teams.
As the lift hit the ground floor, Connor stepped off of it and headed toward the truck. There was one of the walkers by his door. It turned toward him and moaned, shambling toward him with hands outstretched. Connor only vaguely noticed that it was a business woman in a torn business suit as he pulled out his sidearm and shot it through the head. Blood and brain material splattered on the side of the truck and Connor grimaced. He'd have to clean that off before Celeste and Ciara saw it or else they would feel anxious for him.
Connor opened the doors and hopped into the driver's seat, firing up the engine. That drew the attention of the undead and they moved toward the truck.
"Hop in and we'll get back in time for lunch."
At least that is what Connor had in mind...
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Aug 18, 2011 7:52:50 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Aug 18, 2011 7:52:50 GMT -5
“Sounds like a plan to me.” Harrison said, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat of the truck. The door closed with a resounding slam and locked with an audible click. The undead were starting to show up from out of the woodwork like they liked to do, but it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d like to see any of them get into this f**king tank.
Get back, get some lunch, and relay what they had found. Then, wait till the engineers got there. That would probably take days. Until then, Conner could go about picking more people for his team. Yep. The plan was in motions…
(Conner and Harrison back at the Downtown Apartments.)
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Aug 19, 2011 18:19:56 GMT -5
Post by Rhinn on Aug 19, 2011 18:19:56 GMT -5
Actually, I have a surprise for you.
[Harrison and Connor move to Uptown Street System]
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Docks
Apr 24, 2012 12:41:31 GMT -5
Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Apr 24, 2012 12:41:31 GMT -5
Operation Red Tide [/center] Shock and Awe. Two things that seemed to be interloped in a vicious circle that most seemed to have forgotten. Those that had not forgotten would speak of it while others would merely gander upon the new regime with curious wandering eyes. The man in the armchair had been like a corpse… right calf graciously resting over left kneecap with a very expensive cigar placed boldly between index, middle and thumb. Eyes were hidden by shadow along with the other features as the bright ember burned slowly in a smooth inhale. It was the exhale that put the exclamation point on the entire sight, not only that but the smooth accent that was to follow in a trained neutral line. The voice was that of Hammond Marlboro. A voice that has ordered the deaths of thousands without so much of a stutter, and this voice was now to be awoken with the intent to carry out yet another agenda.
“ Brenda, cancel my Fourteen Hundred with the Representative of Still Creek Industrial,” The dark haired man spoke from behind the putrid aroma of the cigar, a flick of ash adding emphasis to the already over sophisticated demeanor shown. Hammond would then press the button once used before, “ Also… make sure that RED SIX is contacted As Soon As Possible, yes? From now on… keep this communications line secure… Do you acknowledge?”
A long dead air seemed to flow from the speaker… Brenda Mercer did not answer as per usual.
“ Brenda… Respond.”
The microphone that was connected to Brenda’s office right outside the door to Hammonds now made a low hum. The kind of hum that made a pit-pat-pit-click sound then went silent for a couple of seconds before the all too familiar sounds of one choking on their own blood. That sound soon was followed by distant radio chatter from a unknown source, that same radio chatter most likely turned down as quick as it began. Novice mistake. It was then that Hammond kicked his frame out from the chair that he had settled in so comfortably. The crinkle in his suit that was now forming crossed his mind yet it was the least of his worries. Hammond panted on the inside but kept a cool head on the outside, stone cold demeanor meeting a expressionless gaze. Three seconds was all that it took to retrieve the small black remote from beneath his polished mahogany desk and retrieve a sensitive document in the form of a small data disk. One stride from the desk to the portrait of himself lining the wall in real time was all that it took… shoulder into the portrait of placing his current location into a hidden passageway that no one other than the dead builders knew about. The click of his shoes bothered him at the moment but in roughly two minutes that nuisance would matter no longer.
“ Target has escaped via unknown passageway-” the words of a masked male were muffled and soon discontinued by the distance drawn between the office and Hammonds location. Truth be told, he wanted to listen to the exact cause and effect of these goons but would rather not be a meat shield for a bit of information. Instead, he merely treaded forward until he was able to see the underground docks that harbored his personal escape vessel.
The docks were well managed in the middle of the old sewers that ran beneath the sprawl metropolis above. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were put into the maintenance prior to the outbreak above and even when it moved below… the expenses of security more than paid of in the end. Laser guidance systems can pinpoint any form of target be it human or not and down them with high tech explosive shells capable of piecing through the most complex of armor. For namesake, the shells were named “ Finger of Reaper” and the general cost per fire was about Two Thousand Dollars every Six Rounds. Hammond did not marvel that particular “defense”… no… He marveled that “Smart Mine” systems that could litter the entire area with a single command and level the entire tunnel at a moments notice. Which in fact… it where the remote from earlier comes into play. These mines used advanced deployment tactics that searched for not registered identification with a guidance that it widely used in Missile Technology. Instead of merely seeking and destroying, these Mines would deploy three foot barbs on all sides capable of digging into the toughest of material. Once they were bound to the desired target they would await the signal to deploy stage two. Stage two… well… is a Blast.
Hammond turned his head toward the entrance to the docking area where the intruders should now be plotting their takedown on a presumed ‘unready’ Trader. The pace set at this very moment was enough to send him into a psychopathic stride back and fourth as he noticed the red dot sights now settling into effect all over his body.
“ You wish for me to burn in hell for what WE have done?! Are you the GUARDIANS that will drive me to the PIT with your mighty LANCES without so much as showing your faces,” Hammond allowed his fingers to inch toward the defense override. The defenses which now seemed to be idle… Shock and Awe… right? He continued, “ It is ’I’ that condemn you… May death be kind to you.”
Those that produced the red dot sights seemed to stagger a bit before the finger finally pressed and depressed the button of the remote in hand. A series of clicks and pops now signing of as the electric hum of the Artificial Intelligence now
A series of gunfire would reign down upon the area in multiple directions as Hammond stood among the fading red dot sights. For ever gun blast and casing falling to the ground with a smoldering appeal… the sound of a high impact deployment meeting medium armor and soft flesh would guide Hammonds mind to a sick bliss. Now the clicking of Hammonds shoes no longer bothered him as he made his way to a moving operative. Reaching down Hammond would remove the mask and the stare into the mans fading eyes. Calm soft words came from Hammonds mouth, “ You have failed in your agenda. You were never here and your story through this compound will never be told… You are no hero.” Hammond would step over the collapsed near corpse and then bend down to survey the situation.
“ … Marl-boro…” The bloodied words came from the gullet of the downed man, they were followed by the extraordinary amount of force that met the direct left side of Hammond as if a mild explosive charge had went off. Hammond staggered sideways while twirling a bit and landing face first… hard. The point of impact between Hammonds face and the wooden dock material below was fairly bloody when it was all said and done. Hammond breathed in a ragged breath… before witnessing the Shock Troops moving into formation all around him.
“ Oh come on…” The sarcasm of the situation was nothing to bolster and the fact that in less than three minutes this entire place was about to be shot up through the countryside above did not help the current calculation. Hammond needed a means to escape this particular moment in the worst way. Grasping the ground beneath him, he managed to roll his body to his direct right. What the heck was he to do right now?
There was no time to really think and what had come from the deliberate roll was the freedom of the murky waters below. Putrid, vile, disgusting waters that one would REALLY have to be desperate to use. The smell engulfed his senses more so than anything else along with the slimy feeling that now laced the nape of his neck. For the love of God, he did not even want to gasp for air… knowing damn well he would need to.
The volley of gunshots that splashed into the waters around him were… discontinued. When his head reached the surface… his eyes feel upon a multitude of staggering drunks littering the once desolated docking area. Those same drunks were now throwing themselves at his pursuers’ and voraciously digging their teeth into large amounts of exposed flesh. The funny thing was that the entrance the drunks seemed to be using was from above, a man hole cover that was… blasted… open. The raining drunks soon went from twenty to about thirty five in a matter of moments and even though some of their bones were broken on impact… they still managed to make it to the meal that had fallen for them.
Sirens filled the tunnels from above.
“ This is the United States Marine Corps… All Civilians please return to your homes or designated havens. This situation will be under control shortly as evacuations will follow. I repeat, return to your homes and evacuations will commence shortly.”
Hammond Marlboro was now wading in a pool of feces and urine as he watched what was left of the attackers being devoured by those that had stumbled in from above. Sickly visions of bloodied faces gnawing human flesh now became the focal point of what was to come. These ‘things’ were no longer registered in his mind as human beings and the way that they flocked to the corpse made them much more than mere mortals. Zombies. The word meant little to the classification of what was now going on. They only stopped when the much anticipated explosions began… but not explosions that Hammond himself had triggered. The mines did not detonate, perhaps because the detonator had fell from reach.
Instead, the sounds of explosions echoed from above in a blinding light that had to be a multitude of destructive volleys. Main street was now classified as a war zone and the tattered pieces of flesh that showered down among the small debris of cement and metal gave way to a new hope for escape. The tunnel swayed violently with each subsequent blast that followed in a three, two, one format. Each explosion caused the new beings to stagger and each piece of debris that collapsed upon them lowered their numbers. Hammond held his breath as a new stench of decayed flesh wavered through the air. The bloodied remains of the new attackers now pouring crimson rivers into the surrounding area. Death came in large doses, but the piece le resistance was soon to follow as a familiar hum came into full effect.
“ Countdown for TERMINATION CODE SEVEN FOUR DASH THREE ZERO is in effect. PLEASE EVACUATE MR. MARLBORO AND HAVE A NICE DAY! COUNTDOWN WITH BEGIN IN THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY THREE SECONDS!”
“ Automated termination sequence? Since when did we install one of those?” Hammond shook his head as he proceeded with long strokes toward the slightly damaged water craft. He was surprised to see that the craft was not fully damaged by the amount of metal and cement rained upon it.
Climbing over the side, his hand fished for the card key that was needed to operate pass the auto-pilot sequence into manual while he secretly hoped that the underground tunnels were not completely barricaded in by explosions from above. The water craft was long and sleek, built for speed in tight places. Hammond always made a risqué joke about the frame style in vulgar company. The water craft hummed to life in a low rumble then to a smooth purr. White and black, the color of duality… Hammond always had a thing for those two colors. Once the craft began movement, it would only be a short amount of time before it reached CHECKPOINT TWO.
Nothing made sense… Was he in the dark the entire time? The amount of illegal weapons shipped via cargo hold from all over the world to Raccoon City was astronomical but to think that some sort of ’infection’ or military grade chemical was being used to turn people into freak shows was beyond him. Then… the flash back occurred.
Africa. Europe. Africa. Africa. Africa.
This whole damn thing originated in the shipping manifests from Africa. He had recalled one Trader explaining a kind of juju that could bring the dead back to life and then he never heard a peep of that Trader again. A poisonous remedy that the natives worshipped and grew in only the most sacred of temples far from sunlight. The white men always wanted to get their hands on what they did not understand and Hammond was no different then.
He had no time to dwell on the past or try to put anything that he had witnessed in the last fifteen minutes together. Right now he laid on the accelerator and turned his head back to watch the area he had evacuated go up in a flash of brilliant light.
“ You can eat on that… freaks…” The man that was Mr. Marlboro spat as he continued along the designated path. The path that quickly exited a tunnel… dead into a squad of… Russian Troops?
“ You have to be f*cking kidding me…” Hammond spoke as he noticed the flicker of his communications device, the flicker that killed the engine of his escape vessel dead. The flicker that he wishes to this day never occurred…
His instinct was to answer it as soon as the familiar chime set in and so he did.
“ Marlboro…” He sternly spoke.
The voice was cackled, distorted and otherwise not that of normal human speaking patterns. One would believe that it was that of a machine from stop to start. The voice was dry, crisp and even depressing…
“ Hammond Elijah Marlboro, I presume? We have much to discuss and so little time to discuss it. Everything that has occurred in the last twenty minutes was a elaborate ruse to falsify your demise for what little time we could buy. Those men sent to kill you were sent by my associates under different orders entirely, the walking dead that poured from the city streets were kited by my most trusted associates and the Russians that are now in front of you were hired by… again… Must I go on? Your vessel has been cracked by one of my own and the on board navigation will take you to a point of interest. Seventeen requests permitting the docking and drops of various cargo will appear on the monitor to you direct left. Input your personal security number to those manifests and await further orders. Should you deny those manifests or deviate from my agenda in any way shape or form… You will be put down. You have sixteen seconds to comply to these wishes or you will be terminated…” [/b][/I] Hammond paused for a second before putting himself first and inputting the requested numbers. “ Very good, Mr. Marlboro. Now… I have sent personal escorts for each drop that is to be made by your own personal transports. Three of which that are nothing more than heavy artillery payloads that will be used to discourage some of our opposition. Your enemies are now my enemies Mr. Hammond, and I want to make sure that the shift in power happens rather… masked. The men before you have been hired by Umbrella Corporation to mask the events of this incident and I would like to make sure that you aid them any way that you can. I am sure that your new found resources… on top of the ones prior to our ’meeting’ will aid you in doing so. Further more, I would like to pinpoint that I in fact am not a member of Umbrella… nor do I see this event to be helping them. I want a bloody war… Mr. Marlboro. A death dealer like yourself can see to it that the city becomes a war zone, yes?”[/I][/b] Hammond shook his head a couple of times as he witnessed the blazing city in the distance, hellfire and gunshots ringing through his ears as the smooth voice continued to speak. “ My Associates and I have long waited for a opportunity such as this to arise and we cannot idly wait for those connected to us to secure the objective we seek. Our objective is not some mere trinket, or even material… We want Anarchy. Our enemies will seek to justify the situation and you will see to it that Raccoon City trembles under our boots. A journal will be uploaded to your Data Assistant regarding a large number of points of interest. See to it that everything and everyone is removed… Correct?”[/b][/I] The man paused as another series of heavy fire flung into the air, this time destroying two helicopters in the process that had recently arrived during the long-winded speech. Hammond Marlboro replied simply with, “ I will see to it that this city knows fear.” With that a over abundance of files regarding the T-Virus Zombies, Hunters, Lickers, Tyrants and everything of the immediate B.O.W. Element was passed on along with names and descriptions of various people from various backgrounds. The amount of data was cookie cut into blunt segments that ranked things from High Priority to Low Priority and even gave quirky descriptions of nearly useless information. Hammond was not shocked, something like this was bound to come about one day and the fact that his previous job stated to merely wait… tied everything together. Hammond simply crossed his arms as the boat floated along the projected path, knowing d*mn well that whatever was to come would be simply… forced. From this point on it was no longer simply gaining a steady income from illegal trades or mere pirating. No. This seemed more like destabilization of a already unstable event. Placing a bomb on a already sinking ship… making sure that the job was done with no other liabilities. The entire plan seemed more than shady from start to stop but as luck would have it… Hammond was in no place to be making decisions. But that would soon change… as per usual. [/blockquote][/size] Men and Equipment are Toys for those with power. Hardware is nothing more than a Childs Action Figure's Vehicle and High Tech Equipment are like Gaming Consoles. Every Battlefield is a PLAY GROUND for the powerful. Those with the most superior stats and the most men usually win. The East and the West have set the playing field, The Reds will be remembered as well as forgotten and the Tide will sweep through Raccoon City to cleanse the filth of mortality and ensure destruction, control, and eventually decimation. These mere toys will expand... and with their expansion they will reveal a agenda that will effect years to come. [/color]
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Apr 24, 2012 21:55:42 GMT -5
Post by Big Boss, Lord of Light on Apr 24, 2012 21:55:42 GMT -5
"Please help us!" a voice pleaded from above. The Russian soldiers immeadiatly trained their weapons above them. Above the group, covered in cuts and bruises, was a man and a woman. The woman was holding a shivering child. "Oh god, please...you must help us..."
"Help?" a voice said from the group of soldiers. It was a thick accented, gruff, Russian voice. "Help you? Why we would do such a fool thing as that?"
The man gave a look of incredulous shock at the words that were spoken to him.
"Because it is the right thing to do! It is the decent thing to do! My god man, what more could you want?" the man demanded.
The figure who had spoke stepped forward. He wore a black combat fatigues, over which was a brown trench coat. His face was aged but not to the point that one would consider him over the hill. His hair was gray, nearly silver in color. In his hand, he gripped a Makarov in his gloved fist. On his back, you could make out the stock of an AN-94 assault rifle.
"What do I want?" he asked back to the figures above them. "You.....ask me.....what I want!" the man spat these words with great distaste. He raised his hand to signal the soldiers to open fire on the male. Rifle fire tore into the man's body, tearing flesh and bone from off the man's frame. The woman gave a scream of absolute terror as she turned to run away with her child in arm. The figure who had shouted at them raised his pistol and delivered two quick shots into the woman's back, hitting her in the spine. The man turned to the soldiers.
"Two of you, collect her and the child...." he ordered dryly. He then turned to the man that had been in a sense summoned to this point.
"So...." he said softly. "You are the great merchant of death, destruction, and change that I have heard so much about. Tell me, what is it that makes a weapon procured by you....so much better than the ones we simply take from our bases in the Motherland?"
The two soldiers returned with the screaming woman and child. The man walked over to the broken woman with his pistol. He placed it upon her forehead and moved the barrel around the outer edge of her face.
"What is it....that makes your weapons....so much....more terrifying than mine?"
As he spoke, he moved the barrel of the pistol to the child's forehead.
"How can what you do....instill more terror in these.....weak....soft....broken people? How can something that is born in a lab....be more terrifying than this?" he brought his attention back to the man fully. "You see, here, in the West, it is believed that some hero will come out of the darkness....will stop my cruelty in a heartbeat.....will save this woman....this child....before any evil can come unto them....wearing a white hat atop of his head.....ha!" The man quickly fire a shot directly into the head of the child, causing the woman to sob uncontrollably. Chuckling, the man turned back to the soldiers.
"Behold! The strength of the West! See how easily it is broken! See how easily hope can be shattered! See what we can do with mere common items of our homeland! For the Rodina!"
"Rodina." the soldiers murmured in agreement.
"For VICTORY!" the man shouted, as he holstered his pistol.
"Victory."
"For the end of the WEST and CAPITALISM!" he sneered, as he unsheathed a knife from his combat vest and brought it down across the face of the woman. The cut went from the bottom of her right eye down to her chin. Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head, causing anger to flare up into the face of the man. He motioned for one of the soldiers to approach. The soldier reached into his medical kit and produced a needle. The needle was injected into the woman's jugular vein.
"Please....do not fall asleep while I am teaching a lesson." the man mock whispered into the woman's ear. Again he turned to the man whom had been summoned, this Hammond.
"The object lesson....is this.....she thinks that she will die soon....she believes it so much...that she looks forward to the release.....to that moment when the pain will stop....." he then looked back to the woman, a look of a cold heart in his face, "but the pain never stops! We, myself, my men! We have lost so much! Land, family, honor! All to....to this idea of betterment! To this idea that everyone knows what is best for everyone else! To the idea that the West will lead the world into the 21st century!"
Two soldiers grabbed the woman and went to load her into a nearby crate.
"The end comes for us all....sooner or later......her end will come when she least expects the release of a death."
The man turned back to Hammond, his face neutral once again.
"I find no.....comfort in depending upon your....aide.....Mr. Hammond.....yours has always been that which I have trained my men to hate....to loathe.....to despise....before now, we depended not on outsiders for our weapons...and tech.....we had dear....dear Mother Russia to look to. For nearly half a century, stock piles of rifles, missiles, tanks, helicopters, boats, planes, rockets, and various.....other projects have been the spear that we drive into the hearts of our enemies. Oh....to show you what we have in store....to show you our projects.....I think you would admire the simplicity of self reliance, Mr. Hammond.
"But I digress..." the man said, as he stood stiffly at attention. "Perhaps....introduction is needed....I am General Mikhail Jovanovich Brezhnev, Supreme Commander of the Union of Patriotic Forces."
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Docks
Apr 24, 2012 22:52:48 GMT -5
Post by #+h3 M!$+3r P@r@d0x on Apr 24, 2012 22:52:48 GMT -5
The fact that two corpses now littered to docking area in a limp condition meant absolutely nothing to Hammond at this point. He witnessed the child jolt in convulsions a couple of times before the last breath of air escape his lungs in a ragged draw. No pity or remorse for the actions were shown. But, Hammond simply gazed over to the male with a simple gesture to the General that he wished to search him. The mans pockets being the point of interest and nothing more. A couple a movements of his hands revealed a wallet and a name tag. Simple enough. Hammond quickly flipped through the wallet to produce savings cards, banking and debit cards, a social security number and a Identification card… a organ donor… perfect. Upon find these things and the pictures of the mans small family, Hammond would pocket everything and then grasp the mans collar in both hands. He would be dragged a mere five foot away and left propped up against fueling depot for boats. The next target to drag would be that of his son… propped in his fathers arms in a pose. Both Father and son seemed caught in time.
“ Perhaps you should allow the woman to have this visage as her last one,” Hammond would light a cigar while walking away from his handiwork. He would then continue in a means to not discourage the General, “ You would not want her to resent the immediate actions. Hard labor and bearing children may prove to be life’s path in the immediate future. You must BREAK her will and show her how these vultures have left this soil so tainted.”
Hammond then nodded while puffing on his cigar to the previous statement issued by the General regarding the limitless power of Russia and the nostalgia that was to come from a few orders issued by his claw, “ Yes, I am well read in what Russia has suffered due to the lies of these slanderous fiends. Where most capitalize on filth and vulgarity, I… I merely give the common man the means to make a difference in a world that undermines the moral values of society. Society being a lie inside of a lie. The America’s wave a banner of freedom, merely to pass laws to take that said freedom away at the drop of a hat. They run scared at the first sign of unstable conflict. Speaking of which, Marines have done nothing more than blockade the escape routes… that will soon change.”
Mr. Marlboro scanned over the data device that he held in his hand while puffing on the cigar, the location of the first drop seeming to be dropped around the Library district. Marlboro would take a glance at the Father and Son once more, the screams of the woman filling his ears as he would soon shake his head and return to the view of his device. His words were calm and crisp, “ A Ballistic Drop will arrive in less than Ten Minutes near the Point of Intrigue. Once we acquire the weaponry and special cargo, we are free to act on our own accord. The thermal readings show a large number of infected concentrated to the Northern Sector of the Library, but seeing as the Ammunition will soon be over abundant. I would not be going out of my way to say take down as many of them as possible. On second though, those infected may provide the perfect distraction to perform this operation without much opposition. I assume that your Target is located near the Library, yes?”
A sudden explosion echoed from a few blocks away as smoke bellowed into the sky with a incredible force as Hammond then checked his watch. Seventeen explosive charges set off in a symphony of destruction as the Military Helicopters of unknown origin began to malfunction and swerve out of control into buildings, helicopter and the like. A clash of metal and carnage of outboard weapons detonating littered the sky with much debris. Hammond simply stood with his data device rested at his hip, a blank expression towards the General, “ I assume that was the barrage arranged by our joint contributor. Now, I must inform you that we have about a Twenty minute window to make a ground run before being detected by enemy birds. Navigation systems are offline in this area due to a MASSIVE EMP spike. But, if this shipping manifest is correct in coding and BIN number… We have one hell of a toy to play with when we get to the Library.”
Hammond would stand in salute to the Russian General, not a sign of respect for ’ The Motherland’ but simply a sign of respect to the man that would soon be ordering many to their deaths alongside Hammond.
“ Hammond Elijah Marlboro.”
It was then that he would listen for the General to come up with a plan of attack with the resources at use. Undead wandering, Hunters hunting, Tyrants terrorizing and the two most dangerous men in Raccoon City have entered to fray to lay the hammer down and cut down the population and secure whatever resources. [/blockquote]
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