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Jungle Heat - Extraction Part 1

Starring

This story happens about six months after Weight of the Fallen - Trial by Fire Part 2

First read Camaraderie - War Games Part 3

09:26 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I looked up at the stars, taking a deep breath, drawing in the deep dark calm of the night sky. As I looked up at the stars, I let my mind wander for a moment. I wondered what Mark and Aaron were up to right then. I hadn’t been able to text either one for a while, due to the nature of this mission. I missed them. Missed them both. I fingered Mark’s knife, drawing some strength from the simple gesture.

Tomorrow morning was going to be challenging, and I welcomed this brief moment of calm and silence to fortify me. Then, I turned to brief the team on tomorrow’s mission. The heat was oppressive, and everyone was sweating constantly, especially in our heavy battle gear. We are all fully loaded out in jungle camouflage. The sounds of the night life formed a constant background song, the wildlife native to the Congo making their presence known.

Everyone was tense and silent, gathered around the small campfire, which was encircled by a series of tents. Security on this mission was tight. Extremely tight. For nearly a week, my Rangers and the Royal Marines we were teaming up with had been hiking through the jungle, sweating our asses off, getting chomped on by bugs, dirty, muddy, uncomfortable, surviving on field rations and no one even knew why, except for myself and Lieutenant Anderson, the officer in charge of the squad of Royal Marines.

They were good men, every single one of them. I was proud of them, proud to serve with them. When this joint task force had been assembled to exfiltrate the MI6 operative embedded in this Syndicate research facility, it was only natural that my squad and Lieutenant Anderson’s would be chosen, since we had been under fire together, although it was unplanned, back in Scotland during that training exercise which had gone so badly wrong.

I looked at each man in turn, Sergeant Bill McKaine, our sniper, looking confident and unaffected by the heat, despite the sweat dripping off his face.

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Next to him sat Corporal Wayne Reese, the Royal Marine sniper, his young, handsome face was fixed into a look of fierce determination. The two of them had forged a firm friendship which had endured and deepened since the training exercise.

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I nodded at them, next catching the eye of Sergeant Tommy Morgan, the big, friendly outgoing Welsh armorer for the Royal Marine squad.

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Beside him sat Corporal Max Thompson, our own armorer and medic. They had been equally pleased to see each other again. They both exuded a kind of calm orderly aura that had kept our spirits up on this long march, taking over the logistics and rigging some much appreciated field showers, handing out bug repellant, and doing their best to serve up hot meals. They had kept morale high, and were an integral part of the team.

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Then, next to them were our two rookies. Marine Paul Collins and Private Roger Travers. Paul was an enthusiastic young lad, and while this march had been hard on him, he’d soldiered along without losing that youthful enthusiasm.

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A lot of that enthusiasm was no doubt due to the proximity of Private Roger. The young, laid back Oregonian Ranger had taken to Paul, and the bond the two had established back in Scotland had grown to new depths this past week.

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And then, last but not least, Sergeant First Class Timothy Phillips sat next to Colour Sergeant Patrick O'Malley. Timothy was from Chicago, and he carried himself with a no-nonsense straight forward get shit done attitude that I appreciated deeply. He kept the men in line.. He was a talented hand to hand combat expert, and we’d served together for many years now.

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The Colour Sergeant was a big bluff spoken Irishman with a fondness for whiskey, which Timothy shared. He was a tough, hard man, an MP. His inclusion was a bit unusual, but he’d been a part of the training exercise, and was a good fit for the team. And I’d specifically requested him when we were assembling the joint task force.

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I turn my head to nod at Lieutenant Randall Anderson, my counterpart on this mission. He nodded back at me. We had agreed I would brief the men on the mission. I take a deep breath.

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“I’m sure you’ve all been wondering what the fuck we are doing in the middle of this steaming hell. Well, tonight your questions get answered. We are here to extract this man. For the past year, he’s been embedded in a small Syndicate research facility, gathering intelligence on their activities.” I pass a picture around, pulling it from my belt. “You don’t need to know his name. You just need to know what he looks like, so you don’t accidentally shoot him tomorrow morning. You will all memorize his face until you dream about him tonight.”

“Because tomorrow morning we are going to meet him at 4am sharp at the agreed upon rendezvous point. We will then escort him to a pre-arranged pickup point about a three day hike from here. Our job is to ensure that he survives at all costs. He carries intelligence in his brain that absolutely must be delivered back home. That intelligence is so vital to both the US and UK that we are here to make sure he makes it back.”

“We can hope that the rendezvous will go off quietly, but the facility is not undefended. There is always the chance, despite every precaution we take, that it might get loud tomorrow morning. Are there any questions?”

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: "Yes, Lieutenant. What happens if he's not at the rendezvous point at the time you've stated. i.e. his mummy and daddy won't let him out of the crime syndicate base? Do we have to go in and get him." Patrick leant on his rifle as he looked over at the others, his red beret of the military police different from the green berets of the rest of the royal marines.

He looked at the photograph before he passed it on.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: "Yeah and I have another one as well, Lieutenant...s.... a three day hike through the Congo is fun..." he said slightly dripping for sarcasm. "But I'm guessing Bob," he said, taking the photograph from Collins and looking at it. "I'm calling him Bob now because I need to call him something. But I'm guessing Bob is going to be missed."

"Wouldn't it be better to mine the route and just activate them as we go past.. because I'd rather a group of pissed off syndicate have to navigate our traps than just run free roam through the woods, sir."

11:06 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I look over at Sergeant Patrick. I grin at his colorful choice of words. "If he doesn't show up at 4am, then we wait for fifteen minutes before pulling back. If we tried to go in after him, we'd likely get him killed. A full on frontal assault is too risky. The higher ups might have a back up plan, but if so, they didn't tell us."

Then, Lieutenant Anderson speaks up to address Wayne's question.

12:11 Lieutenant_Randall_Anderson: Randall had listened carefully to Armstrong's speech, his face almost expressionless, the only sign of movement from the stoic Lieutenant was the small bead of sweat trickling down his grimy face.

From Newcastle, Randall detested the heat. But what he liked or didn't like wasn't important to him. He knew his duty, and he did it well.

But once his men started speaking, he did let himself crack a grin. Patrick and Wayne were not noted for speaking diplomatically. That was as it should be. He valued that in both of them.

"Corporal, noted. I'll be sure to recommend you for any future missions involving long field hikes through the jungle."

"After we have secured our man, then we are going to split into two groups. Lieutenant Armstrong and his Rangers are going to cover their tracks meticulously and take our asset with them. Whereas, lads, we are going to lay a slightly more obvious trail... littered with all kinds of nasty surprises for our pursuers. Our asset has assured us he won't be missed for about 12 hours. That will give us plenty of time to get a head start. That, Sergeant," He nods at Sergeant Tommy Morgan, "is why we brought all that extra equipment."

01:01 Sgt_Tommy_Morgan: Tommy looked up. "Yes we've got all you asked for Lieutenant, but if you could NOT pick me for any more Congo stuff, I'd love that Lieutenant.... the privates need the experience."

He didn't mind, he was a guy who did what he was told and barely ever grumbled, he liked home comforts, but he didn't mind when he was on deployment, it's what he signed up for.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick continued with his line of questioning. "How many syndicate men does intel say are here?"

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy added in his two cents as well, "Do they have patrols, surveillance in place?" The tough Chicago native had a focused, intense look on his handsome features.

He was slipping into the zone, the discomfort of the last week becoming replaced by a heightened sense of laser sharp focus on the impending action.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: The tough, lean, hard-muscled Texan sprawled out, not bothered by the heat, suddenly broke out into a wide grin. "Hell yes the privates need experience... And I reckon ... a few of the Corporals could use some too.." he winked over at Wayne. "Hope we didn't lug our sniper rifles out this far just to have to put them away. Maybe I can go with the Limeys when they lay all those traps. Might get some use out of my girl that way." He reached back and stroked his sniper rifle.

Bill was fearless. He had hoped for action. The bold-hearted Texan would rather go with the Brits than back with the Rangers if it meant a chance to see some combat.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: The handsome young Oregonian looked over at Paul, as if to reassure his friend. He didn't know how much combat Paul had seen, but he'd had his fair share chasing down that crazy terrorist several months back. That was where he had killed his first man. He didn't know if Paul had killed anyone yet.

He was used to it. But tomorrow's action was making him nervous. Not for himself... but for Paul. The laid-back Oregonian had fallen for Paul, and fallen hard. The connection they had formed back in Scotland had persisted over the months since.

Roger had become one of Paul's onlyfans and followed his online exploits, and texted, called him when they could. Then, they had been reunited together on this mission

The fit, young, enthusiastic handsome Brit and the laid-back, handsome, strong Oregonian had taken that bond to the next level.

Roger had never felt this way about another man before... and he wasn't prepared for the fear that churned inside him. Not fear for himself, but for Paul.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I give Patrick a rueful look, "I wish I knew exactly. Our contact says it fluctuates. The last communication from him put the number of armed men somewhat in excess of twenty."

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: "Twenty mercenaries isn't a huge amount, that's better than fifty, not as good as ten," he said practically. He shrugged slightly. "This is what it is. If we have a twelve hour head start, and twelve hours of prep - I struggle to think we can't prepare for twenty soldiers. If we can't, we don't deserve to be called special forces."

11:12 Marine_Paul_Collins: He still hadn't killed anyone yet, after Scotland he'd headed back to the display team, so had spent the past couple of months doing displays in various places, once he'd got over the gunshot fully. He wasn't nervous, he was looking forward to it. He wanted to actually see some battle, the last battle he'd missed through being unconscious after his own Lieutenant shot him. But he wanted to be in the fight, wanted to be out there doing his job, the only job he's ever known.

He smiled at Roger. "Yes, Colour, we can deal with whatever they throw at us. "

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: He looked across at Bill and shook his head. "Yeah it's fine, I've got spare room on my shoulder in case I need to carry you back to bed again, Cowboy." Unlike some of the others who this could have been literal, Wayne was thinking back to Bill being injured last times they were together.

"But you're probably more use with us, the others have to go more quickly than we do and at your age, you'd just slow them down," he smiled at his friend.

10:11 Lieutenant_Randall_Anderson: "I thought snipers were meant to be quiet individuals who you didn't hear from until they killed someone. Perhaps you both should learn from that stereotype."

"And as for surveillance, our intelligence couldn't give that level of detail, we believe they'd be stupid not to have patrols."

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick looked at Bill and Wayne. "Both of you... this gets loud only if it needs to, no going off the reservation just to see which of you has the biggest rifle okay."

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne pointed over at the large 50 Cal Anti-Material rifle that was sat next to Tommy. "I do."

10:11 Corporal_Max_Thompson: Max had been content to sit back and listen up to now, but suddenly he had a chance to indulge in one of his favorite pastimes, ribbing the larger than life Texan. "Good, if you go with the Brits, that means I don't have to listen to you snore anymore. " Then, he glances over at Tommy, giving his Welsh pal a grin.

The big muscled Iowan speaks up again, addressing Timothy, "Sergeant, I'll give everyone's weapons a once over tonight, all this humidity isn't doing them any favors, and the last thing we need is for them to jam when we need them most."

Eagerly, he looks over at Tommy, "Tommy, maybe we could tag team?" He wanted to see what kind of gear the British McGuyver had brought with him.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: The lean, hard Texan guffawed, "Sheeet boys, you ganging up on me now? Doncha worry, Lieutenant'' He grinned up at Lieutenant Anderson, "When it comes time to practice my trade, my mark will never know what hit them." And they wouldn't.

"Yours might be bigger, Wayne, but mine shoots harder and further." He gave the handsome young British sniper an evil wink.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: "All right men, calm down. Looks like you two are going to be our scout team tomorrow. I don't want us bumping into any Syndicate patrols." He looks over at Bill and Wayne.

"I think checking the weapons out tonight is sound thinking, Corporal."

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I nod at Timothy. He was practical to a fault. He saw what needed to happen, and he got it done. "Sounds good. Unless anyone has any more questions, I think we call it an early night. We will want to be on our way by 3am in order to reach the rendezvous on time."

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick stood up and addressed the Royal Marines. "You heard what the Lieutenant said, it applies to you lot as well, if I hear you fucking talking about rifles or the latest in heater technology after thirty minutes from now, you'll be fucking all wishing your mothers had sewn your fucking mouths shut..."

"Get to fucking sleep."

He turned to Max and Tommy. "You two have thirty minutes to check all the gear and stow it away correctly. If it takes thirty five, I'll assume you're crap at your jobs."

He looked at the others, "That thirty minutes involves getting showered, and getting the armourers to check your weapons. Thirty one minutes from now you will be fucking asleep!"

He made a point of holding his watch up, waiting five seconds and then saying. "You're still all here!"

10:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul picked up his rifle nimbly, and slid neatly next to Tommy to make sure he was there first. He glanced over at Roger, this was on operation, and he couldn't mess around, he needed to be serious, be on point and ready for anything.

Roger had been a great friend over the last few months though, they'd texted and even called a few times. And he'd even put on some private shows on onlyfans for him a few times. The guy was a good friend.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy grunted, then gave a sidelong look at Patrick. The big Irishman kept the discipline. Tim approved.

He was a tough bastard. Timothy knew that first hand. He had, after all, beaten and fucked the big Irishman before. And might again at some point.

He got up, thinking over what he needed to do tomorrow morning as he handed his weapon over to the armorers to get it checked out.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger wondered if he had gotten too attached to the British Marine. It's not like anything could come of it. He needed to get his head in the game. Now was not the time to be distracted. He watched as Paul bounded over, eager to be first to get his weapon checked out. Damn, he looked good.

Roger shook himself, then headed off to get showered. What he'd really like was a roll in the hay with Paul, to help relieve some of the stress before tomorrow's action. But no chance of that, not with the camp so tightly packed. He stripped off his heavy combat gear, made use of the portable camp shower, letting the water flow over his fit, toned muscle, giving his dick a shake, then drying off before slipping into his t-shirt and shorts. He carried his gear back to his small tent, dropped off his assault rifle to be checked out by Tommy and Max, then began to meticulously lay out his gear for tomorrow, trying to distract himself from that jittery nervousness that preceded combat, a feeling that was not at all natural to the laid-back Oregonian, except during times like these.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: The sergeants were handling everything, which is what sergeants were best at, leaving me a chance to sit down with Randall, after I'd passed my assault rifle over to get checked out.

I was ... tense. Tomorrow's pending action had too many unknowns for my liking. But it was my job as an officer not to let my nervousness show. The intelligence we had from the agent was spotty. His method of communicating with London was very limited in bandwidth, from what I've been told. All we had was the coordinates of the rendezvous point and some basic intel about the forces we'd be facing, but nothing concrete. We'd need to be on point tomorrow, sharp as a well-honed blade.

I look over at the Lieutenant, the man who had replaced that traitor, Adam Perez. I liked Randall, he was solid, dependable, sharp as a tack. "I'll feel a whole hell of a lot better once we have our man and have put a good 20 miles or so between us and any pursuit. I hate going in practically blind like this."

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul came over and sat next to Roger, he'd also showered quickly and his hair was still wet in the evening heat. "You okay, mate, fucking hot this place, all I want is to get this done and head back and have a few nice cold beers.

He pulled out his pistol and started to check it over, the armourer had, but he wanted to double check everything. "Next month me and a few of the other privates are flying over to Vegas for a few days of gambling and strippers. If you can get some leave thought we could go and catch some strip shows ourselves."

He got rid of his nervousness by talking and distracting himself.

10:11 Lieutenant_Randall_Anderson: "Sadly", said Anderson. "That is the way of things. Intelligence isn't what it used to be, in the old days we used to have full briefings, but it doesn't seem to happen now."

"Anyway, I'm sure if the worst comes to the worst, Tommy will hit you over the head, I'll shoot Roger and then get away with the prisoner back to my evil lair... That's the stuff you lot are all used to... right.." he joked with a completely straight face.

"Twelve hours is enough time to get so much of a headstart in this jungle unless they have fucking drones they're not going to find us... hell with the canopy cover out here drones wouldn't be able to do it either."

07:12 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I roll my eyes and Anderson, "Except you've got the wrong accent mate. In the movies, the bad guy is always played by a Brit with a posh public school accent. Never heard of a sinister villian played by a Geordie. It just wouldn't sound right." I wink at him. I liked Anderson. He was exceptionally competent, and knew exactly how to diffuse the tension in a tight spot.

I nod, "That's what I'm counting on. Would have been easier if our people had gotten permission to bring a chopper into Congolese airspace, but they flat out refused. I'm certain the Congolese government is in the Syndicate's pocket. So we do it the old fashioned way. The jungle is our friend, and their enemy."

Both my Ranger team and the Royal Marines were extremely capable at Jungle warfare. I knew we could pull off the escape. "But it's the rendevous that has me worried. But we are doing everything we can. We'll send Bill and Wayne out ahead to scout. We are loaded for bear, nothing left but to wait and see what the morning brings. All right Randall, I'm off to bed. You sleep well mate." I stand up and give the Royal Marine Lieutenant a friendly pat on the shoulder, then head off to my tent.

I wondered what Mark was up to... And Aaron and Jason. I missed them all. As I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but remember that email I had gotten from Mark a while ago... about a favor for a lost bet. Still was curious what that was all about. Had to ask him next time I saw him...

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger looked up as Paul walked over, sitting down on a log next to the mouth of his tent. His handsome face broke into a wide grin as the fit young Marine settled down next to him.

"A cold beer would be like fucking mana from heaven right now." Roger agreed, checking out his own Glock carefully. Then, satisfied, he holstered it and laid it back out with his gear for the morning. Then he double checked his assault rifle, an MK 16 SCAR-L, it was well oiled, and meticulously cared for. He nodded, satisfied, turning towards Paul with a wide grin.

"Hell yeah. I'm game. Never been to Vegas before. I'm due some leave after the last couple of months. Wouldn't mind catching some strip shows with you Paul." The Oregonian grinned up at him, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"Could do with a visit back home as well. Oregon is pretty spectacular in the summer. If you want, we could squeeze in a few days at the end of a trip to Vegas for a road trip across the States, up to Oregon. Show you some of America." Roger liked Paul, and the idea of spending some quality time with the British Private on a road trip excited him.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: "That'd be great."

"I've never been to America. I've heard of New York, and Chicago, and Los Angeles, Vegas and Texas... that's pretty much it."

"I'm sure I can get away at the end for a few days."

"I need to get to my sleeping bag before the Colour Sergeant shouts," he smiled and stood up leaning down to Roger. "You'll be the first guy who has ever taken me home to their parents." He smiled broadly and headed over to where he was sleeping.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne sat with Bill going through a map of the jungle. "Sight lines in this place are going to be a nightmare, fucking trees everywhere, in front of you."

"It's going to be really bad for anything long distance. And a three day walk, going to need to get the Armourers to swap in some day/night vision sights for us, wondering if thermal sights would be better... camouflage in this place is going to really fucking work."

He saw the Colour Sergeant glaring at the two of them talking. "Just... finishing up... Colour."

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger had a broad smile on his face as he listened to Paul. In his head, he shouted SCORE. "You'll love America. My parents are pretty easygoing, I'm sure they can put up with your strange foreign ways." He chuckles, then climbs on top of his sleeping bag. Too fucking hot to get in it. "Night Paul." he calls out.

He falls to sleep quickly. He's horny as all fuck, and ends up having some very erotic dreams involving a certain Marine Paul Collins.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill was peering at the map with Wayne. "I reckon we might make some nests up in the trees when we camp for the night, that would give us a tad better access to sight lines. But... I reckon you are right.. we are gonna have the best luck with thermal sights...."

He looks up at Patrick. "Just figuring out how to keep your ass safe, Sarge." He grinned. Then, Timothy walks up.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: "One second Patrick, let me have a quick chat with these two, then we can let them tuck each other in." He grinned at Patrick, putting his shoulder on the big, brawny Irishman.

For some reason, he was able to lighten up a bit more around the Irishman than most other people. "Bill, Wayne, you two are going to head out 30 minutes before the rest of us to scout the way. We don't want any surprises. It's your job to make sure there aren't any. Now, get some sleep."

10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: There were times, like tonight, when I wondered why the fuck I'd ever left the regiment to work for MI6. Personally, I blame Mark Christopher. When James Mason asked Mark to recommend a candidate for this mission, he dropped my name.

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I was still thinking of a way to pay him back. But hell, on the other hand, this job was too important to send anyone but the best. And I was the fucking best. I went black, signed up as a mercenary for the Brotherhood of Steel, had MI6 create me an entire fictitious public record that would hold up under the most rigorous background check and got myself assigned to this miserable steaming hell in the middle of the Congo.

The Brotherhood of Steel was providing the security for this operation on contract for the Syndicate, and I was officially known here as "Charles Peterson", a member of Epsilon squad. The Brotherhood of Steel didn't have a fucking clue about what the Syndicate was up to out here, they were just paid to provide the security. But I knew. I'd been spending the last several months learning. It had been risky as hell, but bit by bit, through some ballsy snooping and some internal knowledge of the surveillance setup, made clandestine visits to the lab. Apparently, the original lab had been in Siberia but Mark Christopher had shot the place to hell.

It's the kind of thing he does. He's good at making things go boom. I like him. He's a good lad. I might just name my son after him. He might like the idea of being a godfather. Sheila was due in about three months. She hadn't wanted me to leave her, but duty was duty. That's what being in the SAS was all about. Duty first.

I sat on the log keeping watch with one of my squad mates. The base here was mostly underground, with just a few access points. Our main job was to run periodic patrols of the surrounding jungle. "Seen anything yet Darrel?" I grin at him. He snorts, taking off his thermal imaging headgear, "Oh hell yes... looks like the whole fucking American Marine Corps is creeping up on our asses.... no wait, that was just some fucking monkeys. Of course I ain't seen shit. No one knows about this place. " He rolls his eyes.

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The hardest part about taking this assignment was the need to blend in, to make pals with these fucking scumbags. They were mercenaries, each one, me included, assessed by Derek Steel himself. He was fucking picky. I wanted to hate these bastards. But the truth was, most of 'em just loved to fight, and for one reason or another didn't or couldn't fight for their country of birth. The pay was good. They were by and large, just blokes who loved a good scrap and were good mates. I hated that part.

Tomorrow morning, when Darrel and I left for our 12 hour long range recon patrol, I'd have to kill him. I wasn't going to enjoy it. But fuck it, he might be a good mate, but he made the mistake of selling his services to the fucking Syndicate. And the shit they were up to here made my goddamn blood run cold. So, he had to die for his mistake. I had to get back to London with what I'd learned. My first loyalty was to Queen and Country, to preserving our way of life. If the Syndicate finished what they were working on here, that would be under direct threat. And Darrel, and all the other members of the Brotherhood of Steel were helping them. They might be decent blokes, but they were the enemy. Pure and simple. Cut and dried. Didn't make it easy though.

Darrel and I walked back towards the well-concealed entrance, the jungle steaming in the late night heat. We'd have time for a few hours of sleep before starting our long range recon patrol tomorrow. On the way in, I noticed a team of field engineers going in ahead of us. "Hey Darrel, who the fuck is that? They weren't here earlier."

Darrel shrugged at me, "Ivan Usov arrived earlier today with them. Apparently they are upgrading the surveillance systems on all the bases the Syndicate has contracted us to provide security for. Some kind of new tech... they bury a line with sensors embedded in it under the ground, covered in a few inches of soil. It's some kind of seismic device. Super sensitive. It can detect and identify shit walking around on top of it. Can tell you if it's a monkey or a man. They did this at the last base I was stationed at. Works real well. If they follow procedure, they'll probably have already installed it to about a half mile or so around the facility."

My blood went cold. Holy fuck. The rendevous tomorrow... Holy fucking shit... Of all the mother fucking bad luck in all the goddamn fucking world... why the fucking hell did that mother fucking Russian cock sucking bastard have to show up now... And... there was no fucking time or chance to get a message out. I'd already had my weekly call "home" the other day.

Out there somewhere in the Jungle there was a joint team of Royal Marines and US Army Rangers showing up for a rendevous tomorrow morning ... and I had no fucking way to tell them to call it off. I was of half a mind to just try and leg it tonight. But it wasn't that simple to get in or out. I couldn't leave unless I had a reason. Maybe I could sabotage this fucking thing... if I got up early tomorrow... Couldn't think of anything better to try. But the thing was.... the fucking worst of it was... I couldn't risk myself. If I died.. and failed to get what I knew back to the folks at home.... I hated having to worry about keeping myself alive. Fuck. That team tomorrow. I was sweating bullets. I had to figure out how to keep them from being discovered.

My face was hard as steel. Darrel spoke up as we were checked into the entrance, and led down into the complex, "Whassa matter dude? You look like you swallowed a lemon."

I chuckle, and shake it off, "Just this fucking heat gets to you sometimes, you know? I've never met Ivan before... but I've heard rumours.... he's a mean poker player, and he's pretty free with his private stock of premium Vodka if you give him a good game... Might be that's what we need for the heat."

Darrell laughed, "Not tonight fuckwad. Not when we gotta get up for our recon patrol at the crack of dawn." I grin at him.

My mind is thinking furiously... how the fuck do I pull this off?

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: In the morning Wayne was up first, busy playing with the Barrett M82 anti material 50 caliber sniper rifle changing the sight on it. It was a very heavy sniper rifle, but it could go through a solid steel wall if necessary.

He was also completely wide awake, he didn't need much sleep, he never had, he also had a set of caffeine tablets in his pouch for emergencies. He checked the sight as he waited for everyone to start waiting up.

He looked over at Bill. "I'll take this one, you take one which is a bit more maneuverable that way we've got speed and power with us so we can deal with either situation."

He was calm, there were very few things that got to him, he liked being in control of the situation, like most snipers. He put the rifle down carefully and ate part of his MRE while sitting back against the log. "I love dawn. Light enough to see by, dark enough to hide by, and not too fucking warm."

"The last girlfriend... not the one I spoke to you about last time, she went away, this is the one after that one, before the current one. Tried to get her up to go down to the beach at sunrise, though it would be nice and romantic like... she didn't like mornings she said."

"That lasted a week." He was fine with it, he didn't need to get tied down, him and his rifle were all he needed.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill rolled out of his tent, not long after Wayne. The hard, lean Texan sniper was no stranger to rising early. He'd done it most of his life. His dad had once told him, "You can sleep when you are dead, son." And Bill took those words to heart.

He nodded at Wayne, then quickly packed up his gear and tent. They would retrieve most of their gear on the way back from the rendezvous, so he left the big pack where it was. He sat down next to Wayne.

He nodded, selecting his MK 12 Mod 1 SPR rifle. It was much lighter and easier to maneuver than Wayne's larger one, but not nearly as powerful.

He pulled out a few protein bars. He preferred a high protein meal before an action. He always had done. He'd been saving them just for today. He started to scarf them down. He nodded companionably at Wayne. "When I was a boy, my dad would take me out hunting at dawn. I always think of him at dawn."

Bill chuckled at Wayne, as his hands professionally checked out his MK 12. "My daughter was the result of a dawn romp in the woods with me an' my missus." He looks over Wayne. Wayne was young yet, and maybe he wasn't the marrying kind. Takes all kinds. "Did I tell you my missus is expecting our second? S'about time. Will be a boy. I know it. Say Wayne, next time you get urself some leave, let me know. I'll take you huntin', you can meet my family, and I can hook you up with some fine Texan gals." He winked at Wayne.

He looked up, as Timothy and David walked up. "Morning Lieutenant, Sergeant. Fine day for some death and danger, I reckon." He winked at them.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I was ready for action, in full camouflage battle gear, including face paint. I was loaded out in full body armour, fully armed. Ready for battle. I nodded at the Sergeant and the Corporal, with Timothy right beside me, also kitted out in full battle gear, his assault rifle strapped over his shoulder. "Gentlemen. You ready to do some trail blazing?"

I reach into my tactical belt and hand them a map I'd prepared, which showed the rendezvous point. About a third of a mile from the Syndicate base.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy was, as he called it, in the zone. He had his game face on, hard serious, his mind organizing all the details he needed to be aware of. He saw that the Lieutenant had the scout team well in hand, "Lieutenant, I'll go get the men ready to head out. Good luck Sergeant, Corporal." He turned to organize the men, along with Patrick who was already up.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: "I'd like that, they probably all love an English accent."

"And it is customary to name your child after the guy who saved your life, but in this instance I don't think Wayne McKaine sounds like a name any child should have." he said as he turned and looked at Tim and David.

"We bring death if the syndicate try to bring the danger."

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: The Irish MP was busy looking at maps when they walked over and he stood up and handed his map over with some lines drawn on it.

"Here's my thoughts."

"McKaine and Reece doing what they do head first straight down the centre, it's the least dense bit of forest and it gives them the space they need to hit most of the things in front of them.

"We send the kids," he said referring to the two privates. "Down the left, and me and Tim go down to the right flank, giving them protection on both sides."

"The two Lieutenants are behind the snipers about fifty to a hundred yards, thus giving them sight of everyone for overall command and control."

"Tommy and Max bring up the rear, they'll be slower as they have all the other gear and explosives, and that way should there be a fire fight they can bed down and not worry about explosives they're carrying."

That way there is a medic at the back in Max, and a medic near the front in Collins.

"Ideally in and out - as we head out, we split into the two groups as we spoke about.

"Wayne and Collins cover the rear this time, as any issues will be from that direction, the Lt. takes point at the front, followed by Tommy setting up explosives as we head down. I'll cover Tommy while he works."

"Your side is up to you on getting the guy back. But no offense to McKaine, but you keep him on your side rather than have him defect to us purely to get some fighting in, having a sniper at the extraction point deals with any surprises that may occur if anyone sees a heli coming in."

He shouted over. "Oi, MARINE, MAKE SOME FUCKING BREAKFAST YOU LAZY BASTARD," he shouted over to Collins who was still asleep before turning back to the Lieutenant.

"Any questions, sir?"

12:41 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I take a look over Patrick's shoulder, examining the plan he'd laid out, and listening to him talk through it. It was sound, and given the number of unknowns we were potentially walking into, it helped cover all the contingencies. I nod approvingly, directing a comment over my shoulder at Lieutenant Anderson, "Patrick's talents are clearly being wasted in the MP's, Randall. This man has a fine grasp of tactics."

I look over at Bill, with a wide grin, "Don't worry Colour Sergeant, Bill is going to stay with us. He can save up his lust for action when he gets home and goes hunting again."

"I don't have any questions, Randall, what about you?" I try to suppress a grin as I hear a sound of startled noise coming from Paul's tent. I turn to look over my shoulder, and see Roger standing behind me, in full battle gear, his face looking hard. He's a good Ranger. He's really done quite a bit of growing since he joined our squad, especially during the hunt for Eli.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy nodded his agreement. Patrick knew his tactics. He looked over everyone, Roger was ready, his pack stowed up against the tree. They'd retrieve it on their way out. Max was ready, the men had smeared their faces with camouflage paint, their weapons were in tip top shape. "I want everyone to perform a radio check before we head out. "

Timothy hands out maps to Roger, to Max, and to Tommy. He'd been busy marking them up, essentially making copies of Patrick's plan for each of them. "Roger, bring Paul up to speed when he gets organized." There were sounds of frantic effort coming from the young Marine's direction.

10:11 Corporal_Max_Thompson: The big Iowan listened to the plan, and approved. He could get close and personal, hot and heavy with the best of them, but he preferred staying in the back with the heavy gear and the explosives. That suited him fine. He studied the map, looking over at Tommy as he did the same. He was already starting to sweat in the heavy battle gear. He'd already shouldered his pack,he and Tommy's pack was heavier with the extra gear than the others.

For some reason, just before an action he always thought of Sue. He whispered over to Tommy, in a quiet voice, serious like, "Hey Tommy, did I tell you that Sue and I have set a date?"

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger could barely keep himself from laughing as he studied the map and took in the Sergeant's battle plan. He was going to give Paul such a ribbing. The Colour Sergeant had a voice like a fucking fog horn. Damn, it penetrated. Thinking about Paul helped keep his mind off the action. The officers were saying that they shouldn't have to fire a shot, this wasn't supposed to get hot if they played their cards right. Even so... it was the waiting Roger hated. Once he was actually doing something he was fine... it was all the anticipation that he hated.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: "FUCK.. YES COLOUR!" came from Paul's tent, the Marine wasn't as good at having a biological alarm clock as some of the others yet. But he was out within two minutes, pulling on his jacket as he headed over to the center of the camp to do as he was told.

He caught Rogers' eye who was looking at him and he mouthed. "Fuck Off," then smiled, as he knew what was coming.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick looked at Anderson. "It's okay sir. I'm happy where I am. Military Police get to sleep in comfortable beds and not have to go to the Congo.. and yet here I am."

"Everyone goes light except for Max and Tommy, certainly the Rangers... as they need to be quicker than us back and lighter on their feet."

12:11 Lt_Randall_Anderson: Randall looked at David. "Is it possible for you to be light on your feet, David?" he asked with a smirk. "What size boots do you wear anyway.. 15's?"

01:11 Sergeant_Tommy_Morgan: Tommy who wasn't listening to the officers and Colour Sergeants talking smiled at Max. "I'm so happy for you. I told you, wouldn't be any harm to do it. Make it last. We'll have a drink to celebrate when we get the guy back home. Okay."

"Don't forget to bring some pictures of her, let's see who is going to have to put up with you. I'm sure she's absolutely great."

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: About five minutes later, Marine Collins pointed out that food was ready if they wanted it. He looked at the Colour Sergeant. "Sorry.." he said under his breath.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick just glared at him. Sorry didn't cut it, he needed to get a better alarm. But he knew that marine was enthusiastic, but he wasn't as much of a combat veteran as the others.

After food he got all the Marines ready apart from Wayne who had already headed off with Bill. "Right..." he said as they gathered around. "No fucking about okay... you only shoot if ordered... and that is secondary to only if the other side make a fucking noise first. We're doing this silent, we're doing this right. You know what you're doing we're not yanks, you don't need a fucking pep talk. Get your kit, we move in 2 mins."

He turned to Anderson and nodded. "Ready, sir."

14:34 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I listen as the Sergeants get everything organized, and Patrick finishes instructing the men.

I turn to look over at Anderson with a sideways glance, "Why don't you ride on my shoulders, Randall, and I'll show you how light I can be."

I watched as the men destroyed the breakfast that Paul had hastily prepared. The porridge he'd made had lumps in it as big as turds, but it was hot and filling, and full of carbs for a high action day. I inhaled my own portion, then stood by as Timothy gathered up the Rangers.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: He let Patrick finish his final orders first.

He kept his own orders simple and to the point. "You know the plan. You know your jobs. You heard the Colour Sergeant. Check your kit, pair up, and get ready to move out. Rangers lead the way."

He nods at David. "Ready Lieutenant."

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: After breakfast Roger pairs up with Paul,he puts his hands together and leans his head off to one side on his clasped hands, faking a snore. Then he chuckles, "Gotta learn you how to get up on time, boy."

Roger listens as the Sergeants give the orders. He's all packed, ready to go. He heads off to the left corner of the camp, exchanges a glance with Paul. His face is serious. It was time. No more jokes, no more goofing off. It was time to be the professional soldier he'd trained to be. He was ready.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I stood next to Randall. I exchanged a glance with him. All the men were in position. I gave the order, "Fall out!"

"Here we go Randall. Let's hope like fuck this stays nice and quiet, smooth as silk."

I watch as the Sergeants move out on the right flank, our rookies move out on the left. Then, I head out, every sense tuned to the max, as I move into full combat mode, watching every step, analyzing every sound, becoming hyper aware of my environment. I know British officers aren't quite as used to field work as Ranger officers are, but I'm totally confident Anderson will hold up his side. I speak quietly into my radio after about five minutes, "Wayne, Bill, what's your status?"

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: As soon as the order to fall out is given, Private Roger moves carefully, cautiously through the thick jungle with Marine Collins at his side, towards the designated spot about a mile away to cover the left flank of the rendezvous site. He was glad Paul and he were together.

10:11 Corporal_Max_Thompson: Max is ready. He's had breakfast, he's got the gear. It's savagely heavy, over 100 kilos of kit, but the big Iowan farmboy is sturdy as an ox, heavily muscled, and well up for it. He waits for the Lieutenants to move out before starting. He says in an aside to Tommy before moving out, "I'll show you her picture when we sit down for that drink man."

Then, he turns serious and all business as it's time for he and Tommy to take up the rear.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I was very pleased by the performance of our seismic perimeter detection net. We'd deployed it already on several other bases. It was expensive, but Derek was convinced it would pay for itself.

Especially once we proved its usefulness to the Syndicate. At that point, we could start charging them higher rates for our services, since no other mercenary company used kit this advanced.

This place was a far cry from my native Russia, but hell, I'd been in worse places. The Australian Outback for one, in that fucking shitstorm. I didn't want to think of that. I sat down next to the field engineer who was running tests on the system. It was only 3:30am in the morning, but the early mornings were best for calibrating the system. The nocturnal wildlife was winding down, and the daytime wildlife wasn't up and about yet.

The field tech was new, and so I'd agreed to sit with him and help calibrate it. Everything was going fine, when suddenly.... I saw two blips. Having worked with the kit for a while now, I understood the signatures of those blips perfectly. Well. Fuck me. Those weren't monkeys or apes. Not with a pattern of movement like that. I looked at the field tech. He was puzzled. "Sir, is that a malfunction? Or.. is it a gorilla maybe?"

I shake my head. "No. We have company. There aren't any native tribes anywhere in this area. No one is supposed to know we are here. No one is allowed out without explicit orders. " I reach over and speak into my radio, "Commander Rostov, lock the base down immediately. Get our sniper up into position at once. Have him scan these coordinates." I rattle off a series of coordinates. "We have company."

10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: I had gotten up early intending to find out what I could about this new surveillance system, only to discover that it was being actively used by Ivan and a field tech. FUCK. There had to be a way to let them know. A way that didn't blow my cover. I'm fucking SAS. We always find a way. Always. Who dares wins. I get an idea, it's desperate, but it might work. It will get me out of the base and keep those men alive.

I'll simply kill the guard at the door, use his door pass to unlock the outer door and leg it for the Ranger team as fast and hard as I can. We won't have anything like the 12 hours head start I had hoped. But it would be enough. I know these jungles around here like the back of my hand, I can lead the team and cover our tracks well enough to avoid pursuit.

My mind made up, I head towards the exit. Suddenly, an announcement goes out. "All personnel. The base is in lockdown. All troopers are now on active duty. Report to your assigned stations. Michael Allbright, ascend to the nest and await further orders."

Suddenly, my stomach froze into knots. They had been discovered already. Of course they had. They were professionals. They would send out a scouting party. And they had unknowingly crossed the seismic detection net. Fuck. FUCK. FUCK FUCK DOUBLE FUCK.

10:11 Michael_Allbright: The call woke him up. He wasn't startled, or upset. Nothing got under his skin. Never had, never would. The dark skinned man, a native of Atlanta, Georgia, rolled smoothly out of bed, and put on his gear, boots, jungle camouflage trousers and top, over a thick muscled body as dark as chocolate, rippling with power and cool confidence.

He put in his earpiece, and it immediately buzzed. It was Ivan's voice, giving him a set of crisp instructions and coordinates. He replied in the affirmative, "Sounds good boss. I'm on it."

And he was. He was one of the best snipers the Brotherhood of Steel had in its employ. He grabbed his Chukavin SVCh sniper rifle. The Brotherhood tended to be armed mostly with Russian make gear, since it was easier to purchase from the black market than Western gear.

His rifle shone, he had polished it just last night. He cared for it meticulously, and he'd made a ton of custom modifications, including a stock, and a rangefinder adjusted to perfectly fit the large proportions of his thick muscled body.

He made his way outside, with special permission to exit the base, and in under a minute he was deeply nested up in a large tree near the entrance. The spot was chosen for it's excellent sight lines deep into the surrounding vegetation. There were several "natural" approaches to the entrance of the base that were carefully kept clear, to provide a particular sight line for his spot.

He lowered himself into position, and then coolly began to scan the terrain around the coordinates. He caught signs of movement, but nothing concrete. He reported back, "Nothing concrete yet, Ivan. But there is definitely someone out there. Someone who knows what they are doing. Someone who knows how to move and avoid being seen. Someone trained. But it is only a matter of time until I get eyes on them."

Ivan reports back. "There are two of them, according to our seismic grid. I suspect there are more. I doubt somehow they are alone. We wait until we know more about these strangers."

That's fine with Michael. He's happy to sit quietly all day long waiting for the perfect shot. For that split second of perfection. He could wait all day long for that.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Collins looked at his friend and shook his head. "You call me boy, I'm what a year and a half younger than you. " He pulled up his rifle as he walked past and whispered to Roger. "And I'll fucking make you call me daddy when we're on leave for that."

But by the time they were ready to leave he was all business and he stood next to Roger seriously. He knew where he had to go, and what he had to do.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: In front Wayne looked through his rifle from up the tree he'd stationed himself in, he heard the voice come over on the radio and he looked through the scope of the rifle which was balanced firmly on the branch ahead of him.

"It's quiet, too quiet, not a single person out here."

"Not a person to be rescued, or even a guard I can see. Hold."

I turn the thermal sight slightly and I see a glint of a second scope in the distance in the building, looking at the ground where he and Bill had been a couple of minutes earlier he guessed looking at how the glint moved as the sniper moved his sight around searching.

Luckily a thermal scope was mostly digital, no mirrors to give off a glint of light to another sniper. That was really lucky.

But no it wasn't in a building, it was in a very large tree. Someone else was definitely out here.

"Sniper, scouting our position, don't think he's seen us yet, can't get a clear shot on him... and anything I do will be very very fucking loud, sir."

"But unless our contact is a sniper in a tree, then that's not him - and he is literally pointing right where Bill and I were a few seconds ago before we climbed up some trees to get better positioning on the point."

15:59 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I listen to Wayne's reply. I analyzed it carefully. Wayne knows his job. He knows it well. Something was wrong. I felt it in my gut. If there was one thing I'd learned in my years as a Ranger, you trust your gut.

I call out quickly, contacting the other two teams, Sergeant Phillips and Private Rogers. "Status."

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: We'd reached our assigned position, and were waiting patiently. It was about 3:50 am now. The rendezvous was set for 4am. So far everything was quiet. The Lieutenant's voice sounded over my earpiece. I looked over at Paul, then replied, "In position."

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: I knelt squatted down low beside a tree, ears straining, eyes constantly scanning. Everything was quiet.

David's voice came in over my in-ear piece. I replied softly, "In position.", looking over briefly at Patrick.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: There... four more signatures came through on the detection grid, all of them humans. I grunted. We had company. Where there should be no company. My eyes narrowed. I knew what that meant.

Someone in this facility was not who they claimed to be. I intended to find out who that was. I was betting that those men out there might know who that was. At any rate, this location was now compromised. We'd have to move to another facility. There were plans in place for that, plans which would shortly be carried out.

But first... I needed to speak to some of our guests. I looked down at the seismic display. I called Commander Rostov. "Assemble a team of five men. We are going to engage the visitors." Those two men off to the left... I want them captured. And if you want something done well, you do it yourself. I headed out, intending to lead the team myself.

I threw on a camouflage top, along with a tactical vest, loaded myself out with several flashbangs, a combat knife and my Glock. I left my assault rifle behind. I wanted speed for this.

I arrived at the exit, with the squad ready and assembled behind me. Just as I was about to exit, Michael's voice came in over my earpiece. "Ivan, I've got eyes on one of the men. He's a ways out, I judge just slightly over half a mile, but he's just visible through one of my sight lines. I've got a sharp visual on him, he's an officer. A Lieutenant in the Royal Marines."

I made a snap decision. I was ready to go loud now. And what better way to start than by cutting off the head of the snake. "Kill him."

10:11 Michael_Allbright: That was all Michael needed to hear. He lined up his shot, entered into a state of total zen like calm. Then, he gently caressed the trigger.

The quiet of the jungle is suddenly shattered, as a deafening crack ripples through the morning calm.

Then a second sound follows immediately on the heels of the first, the sound of a sniper round cutting through a kevlar plate at supersonic speed, the force of the impact creating a shockwave formed of hot lead and superheated kevlar, ripping an instantly fatal exit wound through the back of his target, disintegrating his spine and most of his internal organs in violent sprays of gore.

Calmly, Michael lowered his rifle. He wondered what his little girl might like for Christmas next year. Something special, he thought.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I turned to consult with Lieutenant Randall Anderson. I think we needed to pull back. Something was wrong. Far wrong. However, I never had a chance to hear his thoughts on the subject. Because a moment later his back erupted in a violent spray of gore, spraying into my face.

I dived behind a tree. We were nearly half a mile from the facility. There was no time to consider the implications further. But I knew one thing. That Syndicate sniper... was dead. I calmly opened the radio link to Bill and Wayne. "Kill him. Now." They had heard the shot, they would know what it meant.

Randall's blood dripped down my face. There would be time to grieve later, to feel anger and sorrow later, but for now we needed to survive.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I heard the shot. "NOW! MOVE OUT!" The exit door opened, and we streamed out of the door, following a route planned to cut off the two men on the left flank from their comrades.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Fuck thought Wayne, just Fuck.. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck. "In position," was the calm reply that came through though, he didn't allow his nerves to show on the outside. I look at Roger and nod. I was with him. I wasn't eager to kill someone, but it looked like it may be today.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne adjusted his sight, he couldn't see the sniper, but he could see the tree. "Bill... shoot when you see him, he'll be falling from the tree at around 2 metres per second I suggest."

"I'll make him visible for you."

Wayne adjusted the site down from the top of the tree, and then instead of shooting the sniper who was very well disguised, he instead shot the tree. The 50 calibre round slammed into the tree, then it exited from the back of the tree blowing a hole the size of a watermelon out the far end, the shockwaves splintered through the tree as the tree's structure fell apart in the supersonic wake of the bullet, rendering the tree completely unable to bear its own weight and it started to fall to the ground, half of it no longer existing.

"Your turn," said Wayne simply as the sniper fell out of the tree, to be fair, anyone would when that happened to them. He liked his 50 caliber rifle, he liked it a lot.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick looked over and cursed again... fuck this... "Anderson down, no medic needed." He said simply. "Stay on mission. Ignore everything else" He stated through the radio. He wasn't up for doing anything other than getting everyone out alive.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: "Company, sir, five.. possibly six men, armoured. Moving at speed, can try to take one out each , but that's it, they'll be out of our line of sight in nine seconds. Orders ?"

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger heard the shot clearly as well as the sound of impact that meant someone had just been killed. One of his friends. He felt sick. Then, suddenly, he heard the Lieutenant's voice, shortly followed by the Colour Sergeant's voice. It had been Anderson. Grimly he hunkered down, waiting for orders, his assault rifle held at the ready his back to the tree, his ears peeled for any sound.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill heard the sound, and knew what it meant all too well. Grimly he listened to the chatter and the command to kill. It had been Anderson.

Wayne was sharp, quick, and a damn fine shot, plus he had a big fucking anti-material rifle. A deadly combo. Bill cottoned on to the sniper's plan just as quick. His own rifle was aimed at a spot about 3 metres below the position of the Syndicate sniper.

He heard the sound of Wayne's monster fire, the sound of the tree disintegrating. He was ready. His finger was lightly touching the trigger. He judged the distances involved, his mind measuring calmly, quickly.

He fired. He was never to know, but the last thought Michael Allbright had before his body disintegrated under the impact of Bill's sniper round was. "That was a 50 caliber... damn fine shot..."

Wayne grunted, looking over at Wayne. Giving a quick, approving nod. Then, like Wayne, he saw the company heading out.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I didn't hesitate, not for a second. "Take out as many as you can, then fall back to my position. Tim, Patrick I want you two to cover Wayne and Bill as they fall back, their position is compromised now. Roger, Paul fall back to my position."

Fuck. I had no idea what had happened to our man on the inside, but I hoped to hell his cover wasn't blown. We were going to have to try again later. Right now we have stirred up the hornet's nest. I wanted to get my men out alive. That was now my number one priority. And I considered the Royal Marines to be my men now as well. We were all going to get out of this fucking shitstorm.

I radioed Tommy and Max, "Set some traps. We are going to have to fall back and fall back fast. We have to delay pursuit to give us a chance to lose them. "

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: "Copy that Lieutenant." The tough as nails Chicago Ranger nodded at Patrick and moved forward slightly, his assault rifle held out in front of him, seeking targets, moving in position to give their sniper team cover so they could get the hell out of there.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: As I darted out along with my men, I heard another two shots in rapid succession. I looked over my shoulder, and saw the ruin of the tree our sniper had used. FUCK. They had snipers too. Of course they did. Those were the two men who had come forward first. I grunted over the radio, "Rostov!! Another team, NOW. I want those snipers dead." I screamed at my own squad, "ON THE DOUBLE!! SCATTER! DON'T BE A TARGET!"

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: I hear more shots going out, I look at Roger and pull my rifle up. "You heard the only officer we fucking have left... again...." at least this one hadn't tried to kill him, that was a benefit.

I point towards the direction I'd keep my eyes out in, knowing the ranger knew to take the other arc.

He heard sounds of movement. Fuck these guys were in between the Lieutenant and them. He went on his radio. "Colour Sergeant, we need to go the long way around, there's a tonne of them." he was less precise than Wayne in his language, "a tonne" could mean anything, but right now he was a tad scared, this was his first actual combat encounter in the field and he wanted to do it right.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne turned the rifle to the left, following the people he saw, they all looked the same, no visible rank and markings. He picked one and pointed the gun in front of where the guy was moving, he kept pace, always just in front of him. And then just before he went into the treeline he fired.

The rifle was designed for hitting people through objects, a man's head was pretty much no impediment to it at all, as he turned the scope back to the building. "Bill... we need to get out of the trees now, another team, four maybe five, under tree cover coming towards us. Time to fall back Cowboy. I'll jump down if you cover, give me 10 seconds and then I'll be in position for you to do the same."

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: "Understood" was all he said, he understood brevity and he took his shotgun off his back and headed forward next to Tim. He went to his radio. "McKaine, Reece, when you're down come straight south from your current location, we're there, fall back behind us and keep going."

10:11 Sergeant_Tommy_Morgan: Tommy didn't need to be asked twice and dropped his pack off his back and pulled out a couple of lengths of wire to make some trip wires. "Trip wires on the main path, stay off it, every third tree from the dead officer is live for nine trees." He said into his radio and then shut it up to concentrate on setting the booby traps.

He loved using explosives.. they were an engineer's best friend.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill heard the Lieutenant's orders, but he was already getting a bead on one of the men. He picked one at random, they didn't seem to have any distinguishing insignia.

They were trying to scatter as they ran, but that wasn't going to save them. Not from the lean, hard Texan, it wasn't. I fired, his shot lancing out just a moment before Wayne's larger anti-material rifle. Two heads exploded one after the other. That left four of them. Bill radios back quickly, "4 men headed towards Roger and Paul's position, 2 down."

He nods at Wayne, turning to catch sight of the other team as they erupted out of the exit and quickly take cover in the trees, headed their way.

"Jump." Is all the hard-faced Texan says. He's awful sparing of words when the situation is tense. His rifle is out, seeking for targets.

He waits for five seconds, counting off in his head, when suddenly the lower half of the tree he's in erupts in savage flames. He catches sight of the stream of flame coming from just beyond his firing arc. He radios, "Flamethrower. Not good."

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Tim nodded at Patrick, making a quick hand gesture, indicating he was going to move off to the right to prevent the squad from flanking them from that direction. He darts out, catching sight of movement, but with no visuals yet on any targets.

The tough Chicago native gets behind his tree, then sees a bright orange fiery glow coming from the forward position of their snipers just as he hears Bill's announcement. Grunting, he changes tactics, radioing, "I'm moving to flank." If Bill was still up that tree, he was a sitting duck.

Quickly, he darts from tree to tree, in a curving arc, trying to get a flank on the Syndicate team coming up behind their snipers.

10:11 Corporal_Max_Thompson: Grimly, Max fell to work beside Tommy, catching on instantly to what the big Welshman was up to, and started stringing tripwires alongside him. This had all gone south pretty quick. They had to ensure they weren't pursued. The survival of his friends could depend on how fast and how well he and Tommy worked.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Two more shots fired out and two of his men died. Grimly, he pressed on. He snarled into his radio as he made the safety of the forest canopy. "Rostov, Get a third squad in the field, NOW. Send them right up the middle. I want to cut these bastards off, scatter them, and hunt them down like dogs while I capture the two men on their left flank."

He turned to his own team, he had three men remaining. He snarled, "I want you fuckers to come at them from their right. Make a lot of noise. They are going to try and slip past you, but I'll be waiting for them."

I move out with a surge of speed, my heavy, powerful body trained to move silent as a ghost, watching every footstep. I know the terrain, and I take advantage of it, dropping down into a low stream bed, leaping from stone to stone, below the line of sight of the two men. I turn the bend, hearing gunfire as my other three men work to pin them down. I halt, judge the distance to the two men by the sound, take out a flashbang, pull the pin, and throw it up in a high arc towards the two men's position.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: I grin briefly at Paul, but quickly refocus, keeping watch to the left as Paul watches to the right. I heard the sound as well as Paul did. He called out to Patrick. Grimly, I spoke up, "Okay Paul, you fall back to that tree about 15 yards back while I cover you, then you cover me. We'll leapfrog our way back to the Lieutenant, cutting around them."

This was not Roger's first encounter. He was scared too, but he'd learned to live with that fear, push it aside, and stay focused. It was just then that suddenly assault rifle fire erupted from their right side, making their escape route suddenly turn into a deadly crapshoot. He swore, "FUCK. First Sergeant, we are pinned down here."

He turned his head for a second, and never saw the grenade arcing up from their left, out of the gully formed by the stream bed to detonate at near point blank range between he and Paul with an eye-searing flash of actinic light and a deafening boom of thunder.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul nods, he knows what to do in situations, he's just as trained as everyone else, but actually getting to put it into practice was scary, he didn't freeze though, he moved to the tree, but then the gunshots stopped their advance. "Fuck."

But he was in a better position to see the incoming grenade and he (thought he was) made a life or death choice in the heat of battle and turned back and jumped at Roger to try and get him onto the floor to shield him from the blast, but luckily it wasn't a fragmentation grenade, but a flash bang instead and it erupted before he would have gotten to roger anyway, and he dropped to the floor covering his eyes in confusion.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne neatly slung the huge rifle onto his back and pulled out his pistol as he fired shots into the woods then he was almost knocked off his feet by the flames, he grunted in annoyance and looked up at Bill. "Throw your rifle to me and then jump, you're not climbing down that. I've got you buddy."

He holstered his pistol and got ready the tree was burning and it was lighting him up, but he wasn't going to leave someone behind.

10:11 Sergeant_Tommy_Morgan: Tommy worked quickly and without talking as he concentrated. He was used to working efficiently under fire, and just got on with his job, barely noticing anyone was there or the fire fight.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick continued around the trees with Tim, covering him as he moved. As the two of them flanked the others he saw another group leaving the building heading straight in front. He quietly went on his radio. "Third group incoming, another four. Count currently at fourteen alive xrays. Currently no sign of intel target, but not close enough to check faces." He then followed Tim around, the flamethrower guy was the most important to get rid of.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill nods, looking down past the flames wreathing the base of the tree. He tosses his rifle down to Wayne, then jumps.

It was a good thing he wasn't as weighed down as the others, because that was a long drop. He landed heavily, pain shooting up his legs, but the soft jungle loam helped cushion his fall. Gunfire erupted as he landed, the heat of the flames from the burning tree cooking his left side. He pulled his pistol out as he fell, shoulder rolling clear of the tree so as not to be a target.

He looked up, searching for Wayne, catching movement off to their left, coming up behind Wayne. He didn't think, he just reacted. The lean, battle-hardened Texan leapt, springing like a frog tackling Wayne down to the jungle floor as a savage column of flames shot through the area where the handsome young man from Aldershot had stood only a moment before.

On the back of that blast of flame, a round of assault rifle fire riddled their position. They were rapidly getting flanked and surrounded.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy hears the cry for help over the radio from Roger, and his guts twist into knots. "Lieutenant! Roger and Paul are under fire."

He saw another gout of flame in the distance as he ran to the flank. He had judged his position well. He saw the third group. Things were definitely getting hot. He let Patrick notify the others.

He slipped around another tree, just in time to see Wayne and Bill rolling on the ground, a burst of assault rifle fire peppering their position. But the man who fired that rifle never got off a second round, as Timothy unloaded his own assault rifle at the trooper's unsuspecting head with an explosion of blood.

Just then, he heard the sound of a flash bang going off to their left, towards Paul and Roger's position. FUCK. His guts twisted. But he couldn't do anything for them. That was up to the Lieutenant now.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: As the flash bang goes off, I snap three quick commands into my radio, "Marshall, move forward, help me secure the prisoners. Watts and Feliz, move to intercept any rescue attempt."

I spring up out of the gully, catching sight of the two men, stunned and dazed. I do a double take. One of them is wearing an Army Ranger uniform. What the fuck? Rangers and Royal Marines working together?

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger saw Paul turn suddenly jumping towards him, moments before he was blinded and deafened by the sudden explosion. He knew what had happened. They had been flashbanged.

He felt sick, dazed, confused, but he had remembered where Paul had been leaping to, and groggily crawled forward, dropping his body on top of Paul's to act as a human shield for his friend. Desperately, he raised his assault rifle and fired randomly towards the direction he judged the grenade had come from. He was wrong, unfortunately, but he was trying his best.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I was already moving even before Tim's request, my hefty 250 pounds of Ranger muscle, loaded out with at least another 100 pounds of gear moving at an astonishing speed towards Paul and Roger.

I was determined, with a savage focus harder than steel not to lose any more men. Determined that Roger would survive this. Determined that the young Oregonian and his British counterpart would not die here in this steaming hell. I raced along, an assault rifle held out at the ready. I was about 45 seconds from their position at this rate.

I scanned for any sign of the squad that was attacking them.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne looked up at Bill as he slammed to the ground as the fire, assault rifle bullets... from both sides... raced over their heads. He looked at Bill. "Well this is fucking hot."

He pulled out a grenade from his pouch and looked at Bill, "Run for cover in 4..." he removed the pin.. "3... 2..." he threw the grenade over his head backwards towards the way that the flame had come... "1..." and it exploded in the air forcing the guy with the flamethrower to go to ground.

He scrambled to his feet grabbing the rifle and heading back into the treeline.

09:09 Marshall: The muscular British mercenary followed his instructions to the letter, and followed Ivan forward towards where the grenade had landed, and saw the easy pickings on the ground. He wanted the prisoners alive, but he didn't say there couldn't be some fun on the way.

He jumped down to where the two soldiers were and grabbed Roger's assault rifle from him, ripping it from his hands and then bringing the stock of it down into the Ranger's stomach, pushing the Ranger off the Marine and then followed up by a boot to the stomach, slamming him into the side of a tree.

But then unexpectedly a bullet went past his head, narrowly missing him. He turned but saw Ivan moving in to deal with it.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: He felt Roger grabbed off of him, he couldn't quite make out figures, but he knew the sounds of fighting hand to hand probably better than most, and he pulled out his pistol and fired straight into the air in front of him at the figure that he assumed was attacking his friend.

10:19 Feliz: The South African didn't give a second thought and headed back towards the middle and in the distance saw the ranger officer heading towards them, he looked over towards the American he was with and nodded. He pulled out a huge machete from his back and hid carefully behind a tree, no-one was getting near Ivan and the prisoners.

10:19 Watts: The New Yorker took cover behind a large tree and pulled out a grenade launcher and fired three grenades one after another at the position of the ranger. They'd either hit him or they'd force him to the right, where the South African was waiting.

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12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: The MP watched as Tim headed towards Bill and Wayne and he went around the sides, going further out. He wanted to get behind them to the group that had just come out of the building. They were spreading out heading down to where the Lt. and the engineers were - 4 on 1 wasn't a sensible suggestion, he stalked them carefully until they were far enough apart to not get to that situation and he brought his shotgun up and fired two shells into the back of one man's head, exploding it killing him instantly before bringing the butt of the gun around to the other man's face and jumping on him.

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: Bill rolled off of Wayne, staying down as the British sniper threw a grenade towards the position of the flame thrower.

He scrambled up, as the grenade went off, catching sight of Sergeant Timothy. He bolted, his pistol held out, scanning for targets, darting behind the tree as Timothy let off another round to pin down the Syndicate troopers, to ensure their snipers could escape.

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: He caught sight of Patrick moving to intercept the other group heading up the middle. He cursed under his breath. He'd have to have a talk with the Colour Sergeant about reckless behavior.

12:11 Rodney: The Australian mercenary never saw the man who had been stalking their group, until his mate's head exploded into gore. The shock from the explosion stunned him long enough to allow the Royal Marine MP smash him in the face with the butt of his shotgun, sending him reeling to the side, blood dripping down his chin.

The big Irishman jumped him, bearing him down to the Jungle floor, but Rodney was well trained; all the men in the Brotherhood of Steel were well trained. Reacting mostly on instinct, he seized the collar of the big Irishman as he was driven to the ground, wedging his combat boot right in the Irishman's crotch, heaving as he fell, to toss the big Colour Sergeant up over his head, his free hand fumbling for his dagger as his head and cheek throbbed with agony.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: Finally, I caught sight of movement up ahead. Two of them, but one disappeared from view suddenly. I darted behind a tree, hearing a gunshot ring out, along with sounds of fighting. Paul and Roger were being pressed hard.

I needed to try and flank these guys, I was getting ready to move out when suddenly I heard the unmistakable sound of a grenade launcher. My eyes went wide! FUCK. I took a headlong dive off to the side, away from the path of those grenades, rolling over my shoulder to take cover behind a tree.

Three savage explosions ripped through the underbrush, shrapnel peppering the tree I was hiding behind. Quickly, I whipped around the side of the tree, unloading a sustained burst of assault rifle fire towards the position the grenades had been launched from. But I knew there was another man out there, and I strained my senses for any hint of him.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Suddenly, Roger's rifle is ripped off his shoulder, and something hard and heavy is bashed into his gut. His heavy body armor absorbs most of the shock, but then he absorbs another blow to his heavily armored gut, but with enough force to slam him into a tree. He grunts, but he's a Ranger. He's been well-trained for hand to hand.

He's not a big man, but he's double tough. He can't see or hear worth anything, and he's still dizzy from the flash bang, but scrambles up to his feet, his hand going for his combat blade. He saw a dim figure in front of him, through tearing eyes, and slashed out with his blade, aiming for his face.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Marshall leaps forward to engage the Ranger, and I leave him to it. I charge forward as I see the British Royal Marine stand up and fire his sidearm at Marshall. I'm too far away to stop him, but he won't get another shot off.

I come up behind the stunned, but rapidly recovering, Marine, and drive the sole of my combat boot into the back of his knee, pulling back my gloved fist, covered with heavy ceramic plates, in a blow designed to smash into the side of the Marine's jaw from behind.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul's knee was taken out from him hard enough for him to drop his grip on the pistol, but hand to hand was his thing, and based on the leg that had been hit and was throbbing with pain, he knew the guy was likely to his left, he rolled down and to the right as he felt a fist going past his head, but that was good, the guy was punching fucking hard and fast and had aimed through Paul's head, but had been expecting some resistance, he grabbed the arm and rolled forward, using the momentum of the punch and his own roll to pull the man off balance and over his back to slam him into the floor. He followed it up with his own punch to the assailant's face, his eyes still blurred from the flash bang

09:09 Marshall: The kid thought he was real people I almost laugh at Roger, and bring the rifle around again slamming down onto the guy's knife hand, the Ranger still couldn't see properly and was slashing wildly, it was easier to avoid than if he hadn't been hit by the flash bang.

Marshall brought the rifle around again this time slamming the butt into the face of the Ranger. "Stay down, kid. I don't want to fucking kill you yet."

10:19 Watts: As the assault rifle hit the tree, I slowly reloaded the launcher from a bandolier around my chest. Fucker was fast.. let's see if he continued to be fast.

Three more grenades shot out, one hitting the tree, and the other two were shot between Feltz and the soldier, a second later they erupted - not fragmentation but tear gas, it wouldn't last very long outdoors, but it was putting a barrier up that the Ranger would have to cross or spend time going around and putting him out of cover.

12:11 Corporal_Wayne_Reece: Wayne got up following Bill. He nodded quickly to Timothy who was holding the guys at bay, he pulled his rifle down back off his shoulder. "I just want to see that fucking flamethrower guy... I want to see what happens when you fire a 50 cal bullet at a huge fucking tank of gas."

But while Wayne was concentrating on the fire that had pinned him and Bill down and now Tim was suppressing, he didn't notice the two of the third group that were left alive after Patrick's trip had dealt with one and was dealing with the other. The next thing Wayne knew was a hot feeling in his chest and Bill was covered in blood splatter.

Wayne looked at Bill for a second. "You've been hit," he said and took a step forward to help before he collapsed onto the ground unconscious with a huge hole in his body armour.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: The Irishman flew over the head of the guy he was attacking, and landed hard on his back, the impact absorbed by his armour. But it still winded him for a brief second before he rolled over coming to his knees and bringing the shotgun up and around and straight into the guy's face. "Drop the knife," said the Irishman, his accent significantly stronger. "Or I'll drop your face."

He was kneeling with the combat shotgun pointed up at the man. He figured that someone to interrogate would be good. The mission still required to be done, and that involved having intelligence on the strength of the forces.

But he'd still shoot if needed. "Don't bring a knife to a gunfight, I will shoot your fucking face off and then piss down your fucking neck and I'm dying for a fucking piss."

10:11 Sergeant_Bill_McKaine: I had my rifle out, looking to keep that fucking flamethrower at bay, when suddenly there was a loud noise. Shocked, the tough Texan turned his head, feeling something wet dripping down it. He saw the red patch on Wayne's chest and screamed inside his head in rage. He dropped down to catch Wayne before he hit the ground, letting his rifle clatter.

There was a burst of assault rifle fire from the First Sergeant who grimly dealt with the man who had flanked them. Suddenly, a tree only three feet from their position erupted into flames. Bill only vaguely heard Timothy's shout, "FALL BACK!!" As more gunfire erupted around them.

Methodically, Bill reached down to his medkit and extracted a patch, slapping it around the wound, working quickly, desperate to keep his pal from bleeding out. It had been a high caliber round, powerful enough to penetrate the body armour, but the kevlar had prevented it from being instantly fatal. He couldn't take anymore time, and scooped Wayne up in his arms, positioning the unconscious young sniper over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Grunting, he darted forward behind the First Sergeant, just as the foliage where Wayne had fallen erupted into flames.

Had to get to Max. Had to get Wayne to Max. Now. Now. He knew Wayne likely couldn't hear him, but he spoke to Wayne anyways, his voice thick with his Texan draw, "Stay with me pardner... you can't leave yet.. I still gotta show you my ranch... you still gotta meet my wife... and my daughter..."

10:11 Sergeant_First_Class_Timothy_Phillips: Timothy saw the whole thing in slow motion as Wayne got shot, and collapsed forward, Bill only just catching him. In equally slow motion, the First Sergeant turned in time to catch the trooper lining up for another shot, unleashing a blast of assault rifle fire, killing the fucker.

He shouted at them to fall back, then stood, trying to watch for flanks as Bill staggered under Wayne's geared up weight, and hefted him behind him, back towards Max. Timothy felt grim. He doubted Wayne could survive. That had been a savage wound, and a high caliber bullet.

Flames erupted. They had to nail that flamethrower. There couldn't be many troopers left in that squad, but they were guarding him. He darted back, pulling out a fragmentation grenade as he fell back, and let it fly, just beyond the flames.

12:11 Rodney: Suddenly, as he was getting up, his other hand going for his sidearm, the dazed mercenary found himself looking down the business end of a shotgun. He dropped the knife. And the sidearm he was starting to bring up. He wasn't ready to die yet.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: The dim shape in front of the young Ranger avoided the slash, and slammed his own rifle down on his wrist, sending a spear of agony running him up his arm. He dropped the blade, grunting.

He heard the man's insult, but ignored it. He was a Ranger. He was no kid. No easy meat. His left hand was up, guarding his face, and blocked the rifle swing. Grunting, his arm stinging he grabbed the rifle and pulled hard on it, trying to yank it out of the man's hands while the tough young Ranger kicked out with this boot, looking to rupture his opponent's kneecap. He knew how to fight.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Oh this Marine is good. He rolled under my punch, anticipating it, seizing my hand while I was off balance from the lack of resistance, pulling me forward over his shoulder to slam down hard onto the jungle floor.

The blow was stunning, mitigated by my body armour, but nothing to sneeze at, as my 250 pounds of armored Spetsnaz muscle was tossed by the skilled Marine. My hands were up in a flash to guard my head, blocking the punch from the kneeling Marine.

I reached down to the forest floor with one hand, twisting with savage speed over to my hands and knees, launching forward at the same time, looking to use my heavier weight to drive the smaller man down onto his back.

12:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul was acting purely on instinct with all of this, this had been the majority of his training, this guy was heavy and well trained, and about double Paul's weight. Getting pinned down now would be a death sentence, his eyes were clearing a bit more now and the larger guy was now charging at him, instead of backing off, he rolled forward into the charge, diving under the guy and shoulder tackling his leg out from under him to put him off balance, and then rolled down the small hill to where Roger was fighting, and slammed into the mercenary that Roger was fighting pinning him against a tree . He figured that stood more of a chance two on one. His knife was in his hand in one movement and he stabbed out at the guy.

09:09 Marshall: Marshall felt the kick hit the kneepad of his trousers, but they were designed to protect fragile parts of the body and while it did knock him off balance, they were both tussling over the rifle still, his grip held firm on it until a cannonball came out from nowhere and slammed him into the tree, he thought Ivan had gotten this little shit kid. That was the last thought he had as Paul's knife went through his neck and into the tree, the blade breaking off with the force of the tip hitting the wooden obstacle.

Paul looked in horror at what he'd done, somehow killing someone with your own hands felt completely different.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: Patrick got to his feet and gestured back the way he'd come. "You run, you die... You slow down, you die. You trip on the fucking ground you fucking die."

"I don't need you alive, let me make that clear and I will not fucking hesitate to shoot you, you fucking Aussie cunt," I say seeing the flag on his vest. "My dad was in the IRA, so you should fucking know that I may have fucking inherited his fucking murderous streak."

No one actually knew if this was right about Patrick, or it was a story he told to intimidate young recruits... and no one ever wanted to test the Irishman's temper to find out.

12:11 Rodney: Rodney stayed very still. He'd been trained about situations like this. Derek had been quite emphatic. No fucking heroics. Rodney looked into the eyes of the big Irishman without fear, his own eyes flashing hate at the big Irishman. But he started walking the way the Irishman indicated.

12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: Suddenly, I heard the sound of three more grenades getting launched. I braced myself, but in no time at all realized it was tear gas, as the acrid fumes made my eyes water. FUCK. They weren't trying to kill me so much as keep me out of the fight. I couldn't risk running through the tear gas. I needed my senses. I hauled off, staying in cover, navigating around the cloud of gas. It would dissipate fast, but I couldn't wait. Roger and Paul were only rookies, no matter how well trained they were.

10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: He grunted, straining with every ounce of his adrenaline fueled strength to rip the rifle out of his enemy's hands. Suddenly, something slammed his opponent into the tree, and he was holding his rifle without any further resistance, by the barrel. He looked over, his eyesight nearly recovered, in time to see Paul drive his blade through the side of his enemy's neck. FUCK!!

He noticed right away that look of horror in Paul's eyes. He felt sick. That was Paul's first kill. He screamed, "Paul! Snap out of it!" He turned, smoothly getting a bead on the other man, a huge, bald headed Russian, preparing to blow his fucking head off.

10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: The nimble young Marine ducks under my charge, and knocks my legs out from under me, FUCK. He's good. I grunt, as I roll over, and get up on one knee. I draw my Glock and kneel to steady my aim, watching with disgust as the young Marine stabs Marshall in the neck.

I wasn't really in the mood for a two on one confrontation today. I reached down to my tactical belt with my left hand, drawing out a military-grade taser, taking aim at the seemingly paralyzed young Marine. He acted like he'd never killed a man before. Well, that was to my advantage. The range was close, and my aim was good. I fired, the prongs from the taser speeding out to clip into the nape of the Marine's neck, beneath the helmet, and above the collar. One of the few vulnerable points on an armored soldier. As I fried that Royal Marine, I casually fired my Glock, sending a round directly into the Ranger's assault rifle before he could get a bead on me.

12:11 Colour_Sergeant_Patrick_O'Malley: He lead the guy back to where the others had fallen back to, taking a couple of moments to zip tie the guys' hands together, you can't be too careful.

He saw Wayne lying on the floor and Bill covered in blood and in a small fit of anger slammed his boot into the guys knees to get him to drop to the floor. "I thought we needed some intelligence. I've seen four others still in the woods."

12:12 Sergeant_Tommy_Morgan: The welshman came over to the two senior sergeant's, "Max and I have wired the road, anyone coming down it will be fucking in trouble. Plus, we added some additional C4 on the other trees that can be remote detonated." He threw the detonator over to Patrick. "This is a spare in case we get separated, Max and I have one as well."

"We don't know where the American Lieutenant is, or the two Privates." He looked at Wayne. "I can't spare Max right now to help, and Paul's our medic and was trying to skirt around the outside of the fighting." He looked at Bill. "You're going to have to just look after him, putting those traps out with the unknown forces has to take priority or we'll take more casualties."

That was maybe a little TOO pragmatic, but it was certainly pragmatic.

Published: 2021-08-30, viewed 44 times.

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