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Post by thegunny on Mar 5, 2010 21:09:37 GMT -5
Sergeant Middleton didn't feel like wasting his breath on formalities or humor when they were in the middle of a s**t storm like this. Sergeant Middleton finished his go-between with higher higher and stuck his PDA back into its pouch on his belt before he slipped his Bushmaster ACR back out and focused on the zombies trying to get through the front room of the skateboard shop. The large, tank of a man took his time in his response, prioritizing the Army Major knowing who he and his men where and what they were doing here lower then figuring out how to keep his squad alive and holding the infected off long enough for the TFP to hammer down on the horde the explosions in the park were drawing in
Sergeant Middleton, TFP, Thor Branch, 1st Battallion. Me and my squad were on our way to turn on the water treatment plant, and searched the park for some survivors that'd fired a flare off, and got ambushed by those assh*les with the machine guns. Thats about it for now.
ALRIGHT EVERYONE! AIR SUPPORT CONFIRMED, ETA 2 MINUTES! HOLD THEM OFF! WATCH YOUR AMMO! Resupply has been confirmed but we don't have an ETA on that yet, so we may be here for hours before we get some more ammo!
As soon as he was finished informing everyone of the situation, he turned around slightly and yelled back at Anderson towards the other side of the shop, letting his booming voice hit him with a double whammy from his own natural voice and the radio purposefully
HEY! ANDERSON! GET C4 ON THE STAIRCASE FOR A FALL BACK! GET THE WALKING WOUNDED GOING TOO, I NEED THE CASUALTIES UP STAIRS YESTERDAY IN CASE WE NEED TO FALL BACK! Watson! Get your fireteams minimores planted now!
Middleton felt he might be stretching his squad a bit thin between getting all the casualties to the second floor, and holding the zombies off while they set a guy aside to prime the staircase to blow, but he felt like they still had enough guys to hold the front door and windows.
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Post by heeroyuy on Mar 20, 2010 17:22:05 GMT -5
As the zombies began to crowd around the street that the store was on, Adam was having more and more luck with taking them down from the second story window of the shop. Since he hadn't heard any enemy fire from whoever they had been fighting before, he had opened the window up fully and was firing short 3-round bursts down into the growing crowd. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the Seargent's announcement even from downstairs. The only question was, would he run out of ammo before the reinforcements came.
As people began coming up the stairs, some of them wounded, he completely ignored them for about thirty seconds before his rifle only clicked when he pulled the trigger. He was out of ammo. "Hey, anyone got any extra mags?" he called over his shoulder. There was a man that was sitting against the wall nearby that heard him. He had a rifle as well, but with a bullet wound on his right shoulder, he probably couldn't shoot anymore. Pulling the mag from his weapon along with a spare on his vest, he tossed them to the ground near Adam who quickly reloaded his weapon and continued firing down on the zombies.
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Post by kaigen on Mar 26, 2010 0:36:28 GMT -5
O'Connel stood in silence, listening to the Sergeant for the brief introduction and giving a curt nod in reply. There was little time for actual conversation, not now anyway, not with the undead closing in and thier supplies thin. Kevin looked over his shoulder, watching through the barred windows at the small horde forming just outside of their makeshift fortress. He hoped damn well that the incoming support was more than just a few minutes out, especially that bit about a resupply. Of course, air support was always a wonderful thing, nothing like love from above, at least, that was the old grunt saying. Rolling his shoulders in his IBA he glanced back at Middleton, a slight twinge of a dull throb rocking his ribcage, but something shrugged off surprisingly well, even for the size he was.
"Alright then Sergeant. Major O'Connel, Battallion XO to the now extinct Deathdealers stationed out of Chicago Illinois. Let's show these undead bastards what it means to fight a grunt eh?"
It was a sick humor that filled O'Connel's eyes, the humor shared only by those seasoned under heavy firefights and deadly encounters with countless undead and enemies. After all, what was more exciting than getting shot at or chased by the undead? It was true, the Major was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, despite his extreme hate for the undead, he never seemed to tire of killing them off, or even falter in his enjoyment of it. Passing the Sergeant, Kevin made his way to one of the overhanging windows, eying the street below with a cautious look. There sure as hell were a lot of those bastards out there weren't there? He couldn't help but make the obvious observation in his mind. What about explosives? It wouldn't be the most accurate measure, but a well placed grenade could do its part.
Kevin stepped away fromt he window, looking at the shuffling wounded who were either taking what defensive positions they could or those who were taking their place along the walls, wounded to the point of being incapable of fighting any longer. Quick footsteps took him to a man resting against the wall, a silent pat on the shoulder and a quick pull from a pouch yielded another fragmentation grenade, a wonderous little ball of beauty. He searched the pouches for another one or two like it, discovering only one more in the casualty's possession. Giving a small smirk and nod, Kevin walked back to the window hanging above the street below, one leveled nearly directly above the steel door. Pulling the pins of both grenades, he tossed them out the window, the two frags spaced out some ten feet apart from one another when they touched ground, and thrown out far enough to cause damage but not threaten the door, only the quickly growing group of undead in the streets. A loud "FRAG OUT!" warned the men in the building to duck from any windows facing directly out the front of the shop, should any stray debris find its way through the barred windows. Not three seconds after came two simultaneous explosions that rocked the undead below, vicera and limbs flying every which way with a pair of red clouds, signalling the destructive nature of the explosive grenades. Several undead fell to the ground, either dead or incapable of moving due to severed limbs, greatly lessening the bulk of the horde on their doorstep. No time was wasted though as O'Connel shouldered his rifle once more and pounded several rounds into the heads of more than a couple faltering undead that were either pounding at the door or attempting to get close. A mean gleam shined forever in the eyes of the grunt, a show of internal lust for the deaths of these abominations.
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Post by thegunny on Mar 27, 2010 22:38:27 GMT -5
While the makeshift team's fight for survival continued to , a wounded TFP operative on top of the building continued to peer through his Ultimax IAR's reflex sight and pump out a steady stream of bursts into the mob of zombies shuffling towards them. He swiveled his sights along the crowd towards the far back, near where the old water treatment plant had been and where the enemy had been firing at them. He abruptly stopped as his cross-hairs flickered over a man in a trenchcoat making his way towards the back of the crowd of zombies in their direction. The lance corporal quickly called it out, and swiveled the sights off to a cluster of 3 zombies to the back of the crowd, slowly squeezing off a long controlled accurate burst of fire to down the trio
Man in a trench coat, back of the crowd, about 7 feet tall, buff, maning his way towards us. Bald. Looks unwounded. Looked like a T-103 Sergeant.
Middleton scowled as the gunner on the roof reported the sighted T-103, and crisply growled into his headset, referencing the T-103's baldness by dubbing him an 8-ball, and switching out his .50 Beowulf ACR's magazine for a 34 round drum, damned determined if the T-103 tried to bust through the front door it'd have an extremely unpleasant surprise.
Affirmative. Look alive people! Gotta big 8-ball heading our way! What ever you do don't shoot it until we're read---
Middleton was abruptly cut off by the Major's grenades exploding, and the lance corporal's snappy report as soon as the smoke cleared
Sarge, its gone.
What?
Darted away.
Alright, both eyes open, it might try and pull a quick one on us. Remember, the thing can bust through concrete walls. If a wall blows open, light it up.
Apparently not shooting at it didn't help keep it calm and where they could see it. Then again, it wouldn't be surprising if the Major's grenades had spooked it, and now it was looking for a less risky avenue of approach. Sergeant Middleton and Corporal Watson continued to pour out help Major O'Connel pour out firepower into the encroaching zombie wave, all the while steadily backpedaling away from the front of the building and towards the stair wells. Watson's fireteam had already planted several of their "Minimores", or mini-claymores, around and on the other side of the doorway leading into the stairwell, and were busying themselves with holding off the horde or getting their casualties upstairs. It'd take only 5-10 more seconds before all their casualties'd be upstairs. Still, to Middleton, it'd feel like hours. The shufflers were almost in arms reach to the front windows, and there were still dozens of them, even though ragged holes had been blasted in their ranks by the Major, and they were all having to stumble over handfuls of their dead compatriots. Suddenly a screech echoed out from behind the crowds, and an extremely noticeable ripple of shufflers flew to their sides and ran into zombies at their sides, causing the rear ranks of the zombies to clamor to a stop as tangles of flailing limbs raged against each other as they competed to get back on their way towards the skater shop. As great as that initially seemed, Corporal Watson quickly realized things had just gotten worse, especially as a second ripple and a second screech was heard. Two crimson heads were stampeding their way through the crowd of zombies from the street and park, one heading towards the right side of the shops front, and the other heading towards the front door.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 24, 2010 3:27:42 GMT -5
((Richard enters from the Streets))
Taking a long hard look around, it was the same nightmarish setting he remembered from when he found Xander and his daughter... It was a mess, plain and simple. Sighing a little, Richard wiped at his sweat covered brow just above his left eye. There was a shallow cut there that didn't seem to want to stop bleeding, and it was becoming a nuisance. Blood had run down the side of his face and to his neck, even staining the collar of his already dirty shirt. Ticking the tip of his combat boot against the pavement of what he could only guess had once been a basketball court of some kind, he wondered how things had gone from bad, to total s*** storm the second he landed. Right after walking through the streets after landing, a horde of carriers seemed to emerge from nowhere, probably attracted to the chopper's noise now that he thought about it, and he ran himself out of three clips of ammo, and several cuts and bruises.
Go figure... half hour here and I'm already banged up. Welcome home Richard. His mind scolded his stupid choice of actions as he paced, a cigarette between his lips, the cherry glowing a soft red as he inhaled. One little habit he had to keep from Allegra, he started smoking not long ago due to stress, but she seemed alright with it, so long as he didn't smoke too much. It was more to relieve his nerves anyhow. Unslinging the MP5-A3 from his shoulder, he checked it, thankfully these things were mostly made out of composite plastic, so roughing them up didn't tend to break them. "Well at least this isn't like the nightmares... Have a bad dream and the gun never works. This one won't break on me... Christ I should have asked Rebecca to let me take Sentinel with me..." The Large B.O.W creature under the command of JUSTICE was one of a kind these days. A tyrant class Bio weapon that could be programmed like a computer to follow orders, they had come in big with that one.
For the moment, he stood there, his weapon in hand while he smoked his cigarette, taking a breather from the constant running he seemed to be doing since he got here.
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Post by hazard on Jul 24, 2010 3:46:59 GMT -5
((Dude I should Totally bring Jason Tundra Trace Back.)) Jason had left the souped up ford ranger on the outskirts of thee city for the simple fact that he could no longer safely maneuver the truck threw the streets of Raccoon. It was poetic, he guessed, To enter Raccoon City the center of the first global Outbreak. This would be a proving ground of his skills. Jason also knew very little about the BOW's and thought that it would be the best place to learn about them, especially since rumor had it that Umbrella facilities still remained with their research intact.
Some how Jason had found his way to the streets just outside of the park, he had been doing a good job of keeping the zeds off his butt by moving quietly and quickly threw the streets, and only taking shots when he had to. That and using his Kattana to decapitate those zeds he got close to without them realizing he was even there. Jason's feet moved quietly threw the streets, until he finely reached the City Park. He decided that the scope was useless in the park, and slung his rifle taking the P90 from his holster and quietly enter the forest keeping an eye out for movement. Jason saw a red ember close by and he quietly moved towards it keeping his P90 aimed up but ready to move to a firing position if he needed to.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 24, 2010 4:16:15 GMT -5
Richard was lost in thought for a moment, but after a bit, something didn't seem quite right. He didn't feel like he was the only presence here anymore, and that unnerved him, though not visibly of course. He was too well trained for that. Spitting out the cigarette, he clutched the handle of the SMG he was carrying tightly in his hand, looking around slowly, making no sudden moves. It was dusk, and the trees in the distance made it darker than it should be for this time of day. He aimed his weapon toward a small area where he heard something coming from, and he flicked on the flashlight at the end of the weapon, illuminating the area in front of him, and slowly sweeping it from side to side. Whatever was here, he felt like it was coming from this area somewhere.
He wanted to call out to see if it was a survivor, or another soldier, but he couldn't. Though whoever was creeping about would see a tall man with short hair in a bluish color that was wearing black and concrete color urban cammo, hardly an enemy, depending on who you were anyways. "s***... Just what I needed..." He mumbled, his eyes narrowing as he let his fingertip slide along the trigger of the weapon. Whoever it was he hoped that he or she showed themselves soon, otherwise he may end up shooting out of nervousness.
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Post by hazard on Jul 24, 2010 14:39:38 GMT -5
Jason had watched as the red ember went flying from the height of a head, to the ground. Jason kept his gun aimed at where ember was and quietly approached, taking cover from tree to tree. Suddenly a light sweaped over the area he was at. Jason was behind a tree at the moment and so was not made. He took a slow deep breath a released it. His bag made it difficult to make sudden movements, but it was to dangerous to remove it because of the noise it would make and the time it would take. Jason decided to approach from the opposite side the flashlight was at at the moment.
Jason quickly moved behind another tree away from the flashlight and aimed his P90 and the figure that he could now make out. Jason had seen a living being in a while, but the ones he had seen during his time with the corps where raiders, gangsters, and sadists. This person seemed to be alone, and so Jason decided it would be worth the chance to communicate instead of shooting first. "Identify yourself." Jason said to the man, keeping his gun aimed at him, and took a knee for a more stable shooting position. Part of his bodie was also covered by the tree.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 24, 2010 16:57:51 GMT -5
Richard had the gun aimed directly toward the tree, cursing under his breath. He was asking him for Identification? Pretty gutsy that one... He spat on the pavement, or rather what was left of the cracked surface, and he looked toward the tree where his light illuminated only a portion of the man. "I'm afraid I don't give my name out to people who point a gun at me, though in this place I can certainly see why you would... And I do believe I was alone before you came to me, so I think as fat as introductions go, you owe me one before you demand one from me." He called out to the man, his eyes narrow, and his body unmoving. From any form of trained eyes, Richard looked every bit of a soldier, the way his body moved, and carried itself. In all actuality, they were a government funded mercenary organization that had seen little work since Umbrella and the T virus was almost cleaned up. But this time, the outbreak was worse than ever. The organization he worked for had seen so much work these last few months that it was nearly impossible to keep soldiers on the base even. He sighed, and raised the MP5, pointing it into the air, the but of the weapon resting comfortable where his arm bent, and he looked toward the man.
"I'm not here to cause anyone any grief. I'm doing my job, that's all you need to know for first introductions. Unless you plan on shooting me for whatever reason, I would lower your gun. Starting a fight and wasting any more of my ammo in a senseless firefight would be stupid, and pointless." He had learned to talk quite a bit more these days, having upgraded from the man of few words he used to be. The thought made him quiver a bit, knowing that two years ago he wouldn't have said three words to the man, or just plain started shooting at him. He had come a long way since then, for a lot of reasons. The wind picked up, and carried with it the scent of burning fuel, and decay... a sickening scent that he knew all too well. Every now and again, he could hear a gunshot or two, figuring it was someone defending their home from a carrier, or plain out running for their lives. More morbidly, he figured some of them were just too afraid, and leaving the world in a manner of their own choosing...
"You smoke?" He asked, though his legs remained tensed to move, just in case this person wasn't quite so friendly.
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Post by hazard on Jul 24, 2010 18:53:12 GMT -5
Jason lowered his Ruger, "Okay fair enough." Jason said, "Cadet 3rd Class Blain" Jason replied. Looking then man over carefully. He was slightly blinded by the light but he had to trouble readjusting once it was out of his face. Jason stood up , but did not holster his weapon. He noticed then man was bleeding and decided that once he had assessed what this mans intentions where he would offer to bandage him up. Jason replied to the mans question with a simple but blunt, "No. Those things will kill ya, and as it is i don't like to push it with zeds breathing down mt neck every second of everyday."
"So soldier, wheres you squad, platoon, or flight, and where is your base?" Jason was a cadet from Texas A&M, a military brat, and simply a know it all when it came to military a crossed the world. "And whats your mission here in Raccoon City?" Jason had seen many raider groups dress in military garb and pretend they where military just to attack small bands of travelers and take their gear and do gored things to them. He even saw some military bases go rouge and do what ever just to survive, even some where the general, or whom ever was in charge go crazed and just rule like a dictator.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 24, 2010 19:17:49 GMT -5
He was asking too many questions now, but he could answer some of them at least. He wasn't the sort to be a jerk, but there was only so much he could tell a random person, especially with a security breach like the last one. "I don't work with a platoon, or with anyone really. I am an independent operator from most of my organization." He started, putting a cigarette between his lips, taking out a small lighter, and bringing the flame to the tip of the smoke. He lit it, and took a long inhale, before stuffing the lighter back inside of his pocket, looking around. "I am not regular army, or anything of the sort. If you had to call me something you could call me special forces if it will appeal to your curiosity." He didn't stop looking around, but it was the look of someone waiting for someone, more like waiting for trouble... His hair blew in the wind, and he peered over to the man now standing only a few feet from him. Turning on his heels, the pavement, as well as scattered rocks making a scratching sound under his feet, he gave the man a look, before tilting his head.
"So what brings you all the way out to the middle of the Raccoon park? Chased out here like I was?" He said, before lowering the barrel of the gun toward the ground, his eyes still peering about. Something new was flashing in his mind at the moment, especially as the light faded. "I don't think its a good idea to remain out here though. Out in the open at night is a bad place to be." He spoke lowly. He didn't live this long without having just a little bit of justifiable paranoia. Some would call it battle sense, or fear, but he called it by what it was. He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and crushed it under the toe of his boot. "I don't know why, but I have a bad feeling about sticking around out here. The infection seems a lot worse than it ever was a few years ago when I was here..."
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Post by hazard on Jul 24, 2010 19:34:15 GMT -5
"Your a Merc...." It was more of a statement then a question. He had said it with this look on face that said that there was something he didn't like about mercenaries. Jason wasn't purposely trying to sound disgusted, but he found most mercs only carried about the bigger pay check, not where the funds come from, or why. "I'm here to learn more about BOW's and how to kill them. Figured that if there was one place to learn about Bio-Organic Weapons it would be Raccoon city. Jason then holstered his P90 and took the M-21 from his shoulder. "Yea you have point about that. Maybe when we find some shelter we can take care of your injuries, I have a med kit in my bag." Jason then realized then man had said something about being here before. "You know more about this city then me. " Jason said, "So lead the way."
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 24, 2010 20:59:02 GMT -5
"If you wanna be that black and white about it, then yes." He answered simply. It wasn't his place to go explaining what he was to him. "I'm a mercenary hired and employed by a large government funded military group run by former umbrella employees with the sole purpose of hunting down every trace of the T virus, and all of the designer viruses off the face of the earth." He said with a rather definitive tone. He wouldn't say any more than that though. He knew more about umbrella then he ever wanted to. Down to the factor of his being kidnapped and programmed by torture and other methods to be nothing more than a killer. Thank god for Selena... He turned around and began looking about, pointing out a rather sturdy looking supply shed. "That looks like it will work for now. Its not far, its small but it should work." He took a step forward, before stopping again. There was movement ahead of them in the park, but thankfully, it didn't seem to be anything beyond your average wandering zombie.
"If your after BOW info, I have quite a bit. Being a militant organization that hunts these creatures, we know how to kill most common Bio weapons. Though newer, more dangerous ones seem to be mutating out of nowhere sometimes, and we have to step back to square one." He walked forward, before flicking on the flashlight of his weapon, and aiming it toward the movement. Sure enough, it was a rotting mass of walking flesh. It looks to have only been killed recently, and whatever, or whoever it was, was a female, probably about twenty or so.... She was badly mutilated. He sighed, and reached down to his boot, taking out a long sharp throwing knife. When he had gotten closer, and the creature had begun to saunter toward him, he whipped it with a trained expertise, the knife embedding itself into the forehead of the creature, a moan coming from the carrier before all sound died from it, and it fell back with a dull thud as it landed on the dirt. Richard wouldn't even look at her... it was painful. Felt just like killing a person in a way. No one chose this ending for themselves... and he could never help but wonder, if there was anything left of a person's former self inside of them.
He lowered the gun, and slung it around his back, hooking his thumb inside of his pocket as he moved forward, letting the wind, and the sound of his own heavy steps clear his mind as the storage building came into sight. Go with god, whoever you were.... I hope you can rest now. He muttered a silent prayer in his mind, before letting out a sigh.
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Post by hazard on Jul 24, 2010 21:43:44 GMT -5
"Okay Contractor." Jason said. He looked at where the man pointed and began walking towards the shack. "That's not the way I want to gain the information. See I was isolated on a piece of land my father owned during the first outbreak. I only dealt with zeds, none of the more dangerous ones that people talk about. Then in Texas we only saw zeds and crimson heads, never saw anything more dangerous, but I decided to leave, and I figured it was better to come here and learn about it threw experience and exploration. " Jason watched the mans flashlight ht a zed and had brought his M-21 to fire, but the man had already reached for his knife, and Jason let him deal with it knowing better then to make any unnecessary noise.
"Nice throw." Jason said honestly impressed. The turned his gun back towards the shed. "Shall we see whats inside?" Jason asked.
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Post by Gabriel on Jul 25, 2010 4:57:03 GMT -5
Richard didn't respond to the compliment about the throw. He didn't really feel all that great about skills he was only taught so that he could end the lives of innocent people. That was, however, a portion of his past he would not share with the stranger. Only the people closest to him knew anything about it, and of course, Selena connors, the woman that saved him, and his brother's lives. He walked to the door of the shed, and looked at it long and hard. It was sturdy alright, and it didn't LOOK like it was holding anything ill inside of it. "B.O.W's are terrible things. Looking for them to take them on in a fight is about the dumbest thing you can do with your time here. But I won't be the one to stop you from doing it. The Crimson head creatures are very few in number anymore, but they were something else... Savage, fast, powerful...." He shuddered at the thought. They were so rare that he had only ever seen one, and that one mere zombie was nearly enough to tear him, and his entire team apart... It was only a side product of the true nightmarish creatures the T-virus gave birth to.
Looking at the door handle, he switched the MP5 to single fire mode, at least this way if he had to shoot it one handed it would have the same kick as any other 9mm handgun, just bigger. Looking to the man that was beside him, he waited for him to ready himself. "Alright... Ill open on three... One.... Two.... THREE!" He grunted, pulling the rusted door open as fast and hard as he could, immediately aiming his weapon into the large shed...
(leaving room for you to add your own bits on what they find.)
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