Chapter 18: Final Preparations
Here it is! The longest chapter I've written so far and the one that finally gets things kicked off for good! FAIR WARNING!!! this chapter is very descriptive when it comes to the guns and gear and I do mean VERY descriptive. So if that's not your thing I ask that you just try to skim it over or bear with me, because once it's out of the way it's out of the way it's not brought up again in that amount of detail. Anyways I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
The moment of truth stands around the corner, as twelve souls prepare to enter the unknown. Those from the 3rd now lay in wait for further steps to be taken, and converse about what possibilities there were to take every possible precaution for what may lay on the other side. But what actually awaits them, is what they did not foresee, but what they had been hoping for. At this moment fate hangs in the balance. One small step will serve as the beginning. The beginning of a new era, the beginning of an exodus, and the beginning of what would ignite the powder trail to war..................................................................................
Achmed stood with the his squad, waiting for their Commander to enter the room and instruct them of what to do next. The atmosphere of the room was anxious to say the least, wit Lamond and Ahab sitting next to each other, striking up a talk with what they'd be ready to do should things go south. Harris leaned against the wall, what he was thinking Achmed couldn't tell, partly because of his face wrap concealing his expression and the fact that he was a mysterious individual to begin with. Sarge on the other stood facing eight feet from the door, waiting for Andrew's arrival.
The five were currently waiting in Sawyer's office, three minutes before schedule. It was late, and all scientists and most of the militia personnel were already asleep in their quarters. The nighttime watch was up, but most of them were on the surface level, and very few walked the halls. So the facility itself was plagued with a continuous quiet. Achmed was nervous as began fiddling with his fingers to pass the time. It would be the second case of him meeting the Commander face-to-face, and he worried whether Sawyer would see him as unfit for the job and oust him right on the spot. Achmed hadn't made the best first impression either. When the Commander interviewed him he came across as a stuttering mess who was almost on the brink of a mental breakdown had it not been for who he was talking to.
But as he thought more about it, he leaned towards sudden optimism. He thought perhaps his connection to the situation could do him a favor, as the mission attached to him in a lot of ways. He had a part in finding this facility, his friend was the one that was taken, and he was the one who activated the machine. But as he plugged the numbers through his head, that optimism slowly shattered and he was back to being nervous again.
Will he even want me to go? I'm the one who fucked it all up and caused all this, he'll probably ask for someone else. But, if Sarge thinks-
His inner thought cycle ceased when the door to the room was opened. Everyone immediately stood at attention as The Commander and the Colonel entered together, walking in unison. Viktor took a step back and immediately looked both ways down the hallway before shutting the door. He gave Andrew a confirming nod, setting things to go underway.
"Sergeant Martinez, I take it these are the men you chose?" he asked.
"Yes, each and every one displays unique traits and skills that I thought would benefit the mission." she replied.
"Good."
Andrew walked passed each of the men, inspecting them closely. Each one seemed like the average soldier, but that was common. He had no doubt they were capable. However, when he made his way to Achmed, he couldn't help but input on how coincidental it was that he was chosen for the mission.
"Private First Class Sabbag? Fancy meeting you here." Andrew said with suspicion.
"Sir, good to see you again as well,...sir." he said.
He was hoping that the Commander would just pass him by already, but he didn't. There he stood,continuing to look Achmed directly in the eye, staring him down. Andrew could already tell that the Sergeant might have been too nurturing in her decision making. He knew all about Sabbag's history with Berfield in the debriefing dossier he read before flying out, so he wanted to know how a sub-par soldier like Sabbag constituted as one of her best. He expected that perhaps favoritism had a play in her decision making. Achmed was starting to get really nervous, and readdressed the Commander.
"Sir, was there something you needed?" he asked.
"Yes, I want to know what skill you possess that made you one of the right men for this mission? Because from the talk we had and the reports I read before I left New Damascus, it paints a pretty clear picture of what kind of soldier you are. Suffice to say son, I'm sure there's other soldiers here that can perform your duty ten times better."
Dispirited and downcast, Achmed was under the impression that the Commander had just flat out told him to leave. He began making his way for the door when Andrew stopped him.
"I didn't relieve you soldier. Get back here." he ordered in hushed no bull-shit kind of tone.
Achmed, confused as to where he was gong with this, did as ordered.
"But....you said their were soldiers better than me?" Achmed reiterated.
"I know what I said. So you're gonna tell me what makes you worth coming along. What can you bring to the table that others can't?"
"Well...sir, I'm trained as a scout, I'm......uh........capable of forming a terrain layout, tracking movement, and-"
"That's not what I asked son. I know you're a scout, you were trained to do those things when your hide hit boot camp. I want to know what you have to offer that can be pivotal in this mission?"
Now Andrew was picking on Sabbag for a reason. For the most part, the other men the Sergeant picked looked more than capable, but not Achmed. Andrew needed to know what kind of man Achmed really was, to see if he really was what he acted like. If he was going to be a liability he'd have no choice but to boot him from going. But secretly, Andrew hoped that wasn't the case.
Achmed's tongue was twisted as he wasn't sure if he could answer him. He wasn't expecting to be questioned down like this and considering he was known as an introvert, he found it difficult to answer, especially when the Commander was hammering him with this sort of hard-balling. Sarah saw he was beginning to crack under the pressure and made a move to intervene. But to her surprise, Achmed found it in himself to answer, casting away whatever fear and any lie he could come up with to make himself sound more useful than he really was. He took a deep breath, and laid it out to the Commander simple and straight to the point.
"You're right, sir. I'm not the best choice for this mission, I know that. In fact, I might be one of the worst. But Tim is my friend and I'm the reason he's gone. I don't know if you can relate, but I want to be there when we bring him back and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to do that, so If there's anything I can bring to the table, it's that I know my friend. I know what he would do, how he thinks, and his habits. It will give us an edge in finding him. I promise."
Andrew still continued staring him down, but not before a half-smile spread across his face.
"Well son, I'm glad to inform you that I'm going to hold you to that." he said. "You'll get that chance to finish what you started. And believe me. I can relate more than you can think."
"I won't let you down sir." Achmed replied.
"Let's hope not."
Andrew made his way past Achmed, upon which Achmed let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling as if a heavy burden had just been relieved. Andrew turned around once he reached the far wall, with Viktor at his side, facing towards his "newly acquired First Recon team". In his head, he knew they could handle it, even Sabbag, who surprisingly survived his little test. Andrew figured if he could be straight with the highest officer the militia had to offer, he'd be able to face whatever mental challenge that laid in wait on the other side. Andrew was beginning to wonder if he himself could face what might await them, but now was not the time for second thoughts, he had his team to debrief.
"Good Evening. I want to start out by saying that I commend you men and your Sergeant for volunteering for this mission. I know it wasn't an easy decision to go head first to save our fellow soldier, but I suspect that's what some of you wanted to do from the get-go."
A lighthearted laugh was exchanged in the room, with looks of "guilty as charged" spread across from the Sergeant to Achmed. The Commander continued.
"I'll be honest, if it were my way I'd be sending your entire company in, but The Council saw fit for First Recon to undertake the task of rescuing Private Berfield. But to my dismay, they only got one. With Wolfpack as the only available fireteam on standby, you lucky five get the opportunity to carry out this task alongside them, with yours truly taking the reigns of the outfit. I also wanted to express my gratitude for your cooperation. I greatly appreciate that each and every one of you was willing to not only keep this newly formed unit a secret, but that you're willing to swim dangerous waters to do it. I must inform you though that this facade must stay secret and that you mustn't speak of it to anyone. Not even the men of the 3rd. If word gets out to the Council of what were doing, we'll all end up regretting it."
A silence fell over the room, as the gravity of the situation was lined out to them. Achmed felt his stomach drop just a little as the Commander continued.
"Now, I've already had previous discussions with Sergeant Martinez, Corporal Al-Kindi, and Private First Class Sabbag, so I'd like to take this time to get acquainted with those of you who I haven't had the pleasure of meeting formally."
Andrew walked up to Lamond, who saluted him accordingly.
"What's your name and rank son?" Andrew asked.
"Private Lucas D. Lamond, sir. 3rd company medic."
"Medic? That's good to hear. If whatever's on the other side is anything like those other worlds on the records we'll need more than just a slap of a bandage."
"I'm up for the task, sir. If provided the supplies I'll fix everyone up right, and if I can't I'll drag everybody back home on my back."
Andrew smiled at the bravado that Lamond boasted.
"Thanks, but I'm afraid dragging my ass outta of the fire is the Colonel's job, what I want out of you is to take care of injuries. Last thing I need is the medic dying."
Lamond felt a little self-pride come out of him just then.
"I think I'll manage, sir." Lamond replied.
"Here's hoping you do, but I'm certain you'll need to do more than just manage son, you need to be on your A-game the whole time we're there. That goes for all of you might I add." he said turning to address the others.
The others in attendance replied with an attentive "yes sir".
"Good." Andrew said.
Andrew then came face to face with the man who's face was concealed by an olive drab face wrap.
"And who would you be, soldier?"
"Corporal Harris, sir." he replied in a expressionless voice.
"And what's your job around here?"
"I serve as 3rd company's Psyche counselor, pointman, infantry, weapons expert."
Andrew saw that as an odd combination. To him, pointman and psyche counselor don't necessarily sound like they went together. The way Harris laid out his duties gave Andrew gave him the impression this man was cold and methodical in his handling of situations, but also had his roots centered in his duty to the men of the unit.
"So you're a weapons expert and the psyche doctor, huh? So tell me, do you plan to psycho-analyze or kill Berfield when we find him?" Andrew asked jokingly.
"An analysis would be the most beneficial. If the environment we encounter is hostile and Berfield's still alive it's best we see if he's in a stable condition." he said in the same expressionless tone.
Harris still spoke with the same frost-cold voice, almost as if he didn't even register the joke Andrew had just made. Andrew was now getting odd vibes from him, and his expressionless and vacant stare served only to make him reflect. It wasn't uncommon among some people, you go into this world naked and have to fight your way to stay alive. Andrew looked at his eyes, and they were similar to his own. They were the eyes of someone who saw things he wished he hadn't, those of a fighter, those of a desensitized man, those of one who lost his soul. And eyes were the only thing that could be read, as the man chose to hide his face from the world with the face wrap that covered everything up to his nose.
"Well, son, make it your mission to do that when or if we find him." Andrew instructed.
"Understood, sir." he said in the same deadpan tone.
Andrew made his way back to the front of the room so that they could finally get things underway. He pulled the Sergeant to the side, speaking with a hushed tone.
"Sergeant, it seems you did an excellent job. They seem like the perfect men for the job."
Sarah felt a little pride rise as she accepted the commendation for the Commander. She simply gave a salute, expressing that she was thankful.
"Well, now that formalities are out of the way, let's get straight to business, shall we? From this point forward, this unit will be officially recognized as Fireteam Osaka. I will be leading you as Osaka 1. Sergeant Martinez will be Osaka 2. Corporal Harris, Osaka 3. Corporal Al-kindi will be Osaka 4. Private First-Class Sabbag will be Osaka 5. And finally, Private Lamond will be Osaka 6. When we reach the portal room and we're cleared to enter we'll be lined up by number, starting from one to six, so I encourage you to remember your number like the back of your hand. If anyone asks your name, you use your Fireteam number only. No one can know who you are. Now onto the mission."
Everyone's eyes and ears were on Andrew from this point forward, as every detail that would follow would provide greater insight into what they might possibly expect. Andrew continued.
"As you all are aware, Private Berfield went missing precisely six days ago, and his whereabouts are, somewhat, unknown."
"What do you mean by somewhat, sir?" Ahab asked.
"By somewhat, I mean we know where he is but have little to no information on the location. We're going in blind, which presents a lot of risk."
"Where do we think he went? We've heard the name Echo drop a few times in conversation." Ahab asked.
"Yes, he was in fact transported to another world codenamed Echo. But like I said we have no intel whatsoever on the location so flying blind is just something we're going to have to deal with. But, we've thankfully prepared a few precautionary steps. You'll each be given a gas mask and enough filters to last 72 hours should the air on the other side be toxic or otherwise unbreathable."
Andrew noticed in the corner of his eye that Viktor had a displeased look on his face, no doubt born from the cold-hard truth Andrew just informed to his new sqaudmates. Regardless, He had nothing to worry about. Vik would have his back one way or another, even they still disagreed on a few "minor" changes in mission procedure.
"The idea of suffocating on toxic fumes doesn't sound very appealing." Lamond voiced.
"Having second thoughts? The door's right there." Andrew pointed out with an eyebrow raised.
"No way in hell that's gonna happen, sir."
"Good to hear. Now if you're all done griping, the main objective is to find Berfield and get him home. Simple search and rescue, I'm sure you're all experienced enough to carry it out effectively. If Berfield is still alive and smart enough with playing his cards, he'll probably be close to his point of entry."
Achmed couldn't help but to begin to doubt that. He then turned his attention to an analysis of his friend. Tim was curious, in fact too curious. And more often than not that curiosity would land them in a sticky situation. Achmed was beginning to predict that Tim would be nowhere near the entrance if something caught his attention. But Achmed's own attention was then suddenly turned to one hardy slug to his arm from his Sergeant. She leaned in and whispered in his ear.
"*Sabbag, whatever the fuck your thinking about can wait, right now you need to listen up."
Achmed had realized he had completely droned out the Commander this whole time, and instantly picked up from where he was talking.
"-Each of you will also be given a tactical HUD/headset combo. This device will cover several functions that would otherwise have be to covered with separate pieces of equipment. It will cover, sqaud communication, map grid, night vision, thermal view, and sqaud location. It's the go to for First Recon. Speaking of which, if you're going to pass for first recon, I do believe you'll need to look the part. Colonel."
Lamond and Ahab exchanged eager smiles. Sarah even began to get a tad bit excited. Harris expressed nothing, and Achmed wasn't sure how to feel. Andrew gestured for Vik to come forward and speak to the group, to which he did.
"Listen carefully." Viktor announced. "I am going to cover the equipment situation for you all in a clear and concise manner, should you mishear or miss what I say, know that I will not repeat it. So I highly suggest you listen. Thanks to the Commander's.........."brilliant" plan, you all have been given temporary access to a tier 6 arsenal of weapons and equipment."
"Fuck yeah." Ahab acclaimed.
"That's what I'm talking about." Lamond chirped in, exchanging a small high-five with Ahab.
"Unexpected, but welcome all the same." Sarah said calmly with a smile.
Even Sarah couldn't help but feel psyched a little. The tier system was a system for categorizing for the weapons found by the salvage teams and had been in place since the founding of the first council. It essentially laid out which firearms were available and appropriate to who. Tiers 1-4 were made available for both civilians and the Militia, whilst tiers 5 and up were reserved for the Militia only. Tier 1 consisted of non lethal weapons, such as tasers and gas pistols, and are generally deemed unhelpful by most of the remaining populace. Tier 2 weapons consist of mainly knives and other varieties of melee weapons. Tier 3 is where the first guns are categorized, with it consisting of semi automatic handguns , bolt action rifles, and single shot firearms. Tier 4 generally consists of semi automatic rifles of small to medium calibers, and shotguns ranging from pump action to semi-automatic. Tier 5 weapons are reserved for Militia use only, consisting of the most common found fully automatic rifles, high caliber rifles, rocket launchers, and machine guns. Tier 6, being the highest category, was exclusively reserved for the First Recon teams, consisting of the most advanced pre-war and inter-war military weapons befitting special forces teams. Some of them were assumed to be the last surviving models, with so many destroyed in The Conflict.
Gaining access to that level of weaponry didn't happen every day, and it seemed that Sarge, Lamond, and Ahab were equally excited. Harris seemed unmoved by the news in any way, instead just standing taking it in as if it were just another order. Achmed felt quite different about it. The emphasis on the the new weapon and equipment access made him feel as if he needed to put double the effort into his new "role" as a first recon operator. Achmed's mind went into overdrive, figuring out what he should do if he looked out of place, and it was only when Viktor continued that he manged to snap out of it and pay attention.
"Alright, everyone shut up! Time to listen up again. There are still matters to discuss before you even think about grabbing one of the pieces upstairs. Let's go over the rules, and I insist you follow them, lest we have problems. All tier 6 weapons are stowed away in the LAV upstairs, and thankfully my men have taken the time to prepare for the mission ahead of schedule so that you could use the day tomorrow to prepare for yourselves. But let me be very clear, they are, for all intents and purposes, my weapons. You are borrowing my weapons and if you damage, or god help you, break one of my firearms, I have full authority to snap your neck."
The soldiers knew he wouldn't kill them for that, but if one of those two things were to happen as a result of themselves they'd be expecting a boot in the ass.
"That was rule one. Rule two. Just because you have access to my armory doesn't mean you can just take whatever damn gun you want. You come to me first, and then I'll decide whether it's okay to use. I'll be discussing your pros and weaknesses with firearms and what your role is with your Sergeant. We'll narrow the choices down, see what gun best matches you. Rule three, if I catch any of you trying to steal from me I'll shoot your sorry ass before sundown. And I am not joking about that. I won't tolerate thievery! Is that clear?!"
"Yes sir!!!" They all said simultaneously and immediately.
Sarah and the others could tell the Colonel was serious about that. Thieves who were caught were either shot on sight or lined up for the firing sqaud, so stealing tier 6 gear was a risk none of them were going to take.
"Good, now onto procedure." He continued. "Fireteam protocol mandates that every member of a fireteam must have a weapon that shares the same cartridge and magazine to the weapon of at least one other team members. We call it the "buddy system", and it ensures that at least every one of you has ammo to spare to another one of your teammates. Your buddy will be with you at most times. Should the scenario call for an alternative course of action in which your buddy may be subject to leave you, make it your mission to keep your guard up at an all time high. Secondly, all munitions are to be stored in a concealed pouch, no ammo-belt-hanging-around-the-neck shit just to boost someone's bravado! If your going to look professional you're act like you're a professional. I also want everyone carrying their sidearms as well, knife in a sheath and handguns in a holster, ready at a moments notice. Now the equipment that's been given to your disposal will also be of a similar process. But the Commander will be the one to assess what each of you will need. And like the he previously mentioned, you'll each be given a gas mask and HUD-set. Everyone will be wearing an operator level helmet and body protection for the chest, groin, and joint areas. You'll also be carrying enough food and water to last for those three days, no more and no less. You'll need to make room for chem lights, emergency equipment, extra ammunition, a suppressor for every firearm you will be taking, and a sleeping bag. And for you medic Lamond, you will have a supply of first aid on you to accommodate 12 individuals. Other than that, I would highly recommend you come to me or the Commander should you feel the need to bring something else."
Viktor took one quick look at them all before finishing up.
"Alright. If you have any questions now is the time to ask them." Viktor announced.
Ahab was the first to hop on the opportunity.
"Corporal Al-Kindi, what is it?"
"Do we have access to tactical accessories for the firearms we'll be given?" he said with an optimistic grin.
"Yes, but like the guns and equipment, you come to me first to assess. Last thing I need is one of you lugging around an under-barrel grenade launcher and then come to me later telling me it's too heavy."
Lamond was the next to jump on the train of questions
"Yes, Private?"
"Colonel, what kind of firearms do have available for us exactly, and in what calibers?"
"Save that kind of question for when we get up there. It will be easier for everyone if they're in arm's reach. Anything else?"
The others didn't ask anything, as Sarah had already made up her mind that that was all she needed to know on weapons and equipment, Harris didn't require any additional information other than that of what was already given, and Achmed felt he didn't have anything to ask. Seeing that they had nothing else to inquire, Viktor handed the floor over to Andrew, who gave them all an earnest look. He simply stood there for a few seconds, making everyone in the room feel a bit uncomfortable. Even Viktor was unsure where he was going with this.
"I'm not going to lie to you. This mission has the potential to be very dangerous. Perhaps even suicidal." Andrew said with honest intent. "If this Echo is anything like the other locations scouted before the war, there's a high chance we won't be coming back so if you're having any second thoughts about this, now's the time to reconsider. Should you step away from this mission know that I understand why, and that I don't fault you for it in any way. What I'm asking of you is a lot to take on, so understand if you're unwilling."
Achmed weighed his decision of whether to take the offer to leave. But for as much as he saw himself as unfit and wanted to stay out of this high risk and professional mission, he had to go through with it. He had an idea of the stakes even before they had been laid out. They were his reason for being there. Something inside himself had to see the matter through. Whether it be out of the need to find his friend or resolve his sense of guilt, he couldn't say for sure. One way or another though, he wasn't turning back.
The others didn't give "backing out" a chance, they wanted to be there, they knew the risks or didn't care about them, and they knew they didn't have time to find replacements. Andrew took the groups silence as a confirmation on their commitment and gave him the que to continue talking.
"If your minds are made up then, I ask you listen for one last thing. Since we don't have time to properly train you I'm going lay down four simple rules that you need to follow when we're on the mission. Stay close to the group, listen to the orders I give you, don't take any action until told otherwise, and don't go anywhere unless told otherwise."
"We'll make sure they sink in sir." Sarah reassured.
"Okay. At 0900 sharp, all of you are to report to the vehicle bay for mission prep and armament. I don't want any late arrivals! You don't show up on time, you don't go. Time is a luxury we can't afford. Anyways, until then, I expect each of you to a get a good night's rest. That's all. Dismissed!"
The soldiers of 3rd Company gave the Commander a salute and proceeded to exit the room one by one. Achmed was the last to exit out. He turned his head to get one last look at the Commander and Colonel before he filed out of the room and the automatic door closed behind him. His fellow teammates made their way to the bunk room, leaving Achmed alone in the hallway alone. All the talk of possibly dying, the stakes should they get caught, the fact that he would essentially impersonate a level of soldier that he very well knew he wasn't assured him that no sleep would be gained by him this night. He tried to ease his concerns by going over the four rules in his head.
Stay close, listen to orders, don't do anything until told to, don't go anywhere until told to.
As the last rue read out in his head, a faint sentence came out.
"I hope I know what I doing."
With that, Achmed began to head in the same direction as his comrades, reciting the rules and hoping that he could muster one last good sleep before the mission's launch that night. Meanwhile in the Commander's quarters, Andrew saw fit to discuss how debrief went with Viktor.
"Well, that didn't go so bad." Andrew claimed.
"Not very long either, but I guess that's how a debrief goes when you have no intel to give."
"Oh Jesus Christ, will you stop bitching about that already?" Andrew sighed.
"I said I'd go with you on the mission, but as far as I'm concerned I still think it's a terrible idea that's going to get us killed." Viktor admitted.
Andrew glared his friend down. He might have been his old friend, but Andrew was all too aware of just how stubborn his old friend could be, and it seemed as if age and time apart did nothing to change that.
"So then why go? Why not report me to the council?" Andrew asked.
"Simple. I'd have nothing to gain by snitching and like you said, I'm the one who job it is to drag your ass out of the fire." Viktor retorted with a smirk.
Andrew rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smirk back. With that part of the conversation over, Andrew felt like he needed a second opinion about his new "fireteam".
"So, what's your take on the "new recruits"? You seemed to be pretty damn aggressive when discussing planning with them"
"It's a small way I have of testing people before a mission, if they can handle a bit of yelling without so much as a word back or a bead of sweat trailing down their face, they can handle much worse. Happy to say they all passed."
"Any of them stand out?"
"Da. The Sergeant and Corporal Harris seem capable enough, especially Harris. Came across as sort of a cold-blooded, a real snake eater if you know what I mean. If so, he seems like he has the perfect mentality for our kind of work. If he's an expert like he says he might make a good operator."
"If he does well enough on this one you think you'll write a recommendation? I might be in New Damascus almost every day but I know for fact First Recon is always looking for new blood."
"It is a Possibility. We'll see how he does. Can't say the same for those grunts Lamond and Al-Kindi."
"Don't think they're capable for this op?"
"No, I have no doubt they're capable for this mission, but they're not capable of shutting their mouths. Not Operator material, that's for certain. Especially that Al-Kindi, he came across as the smart-ass type. In fact I foresee myself slugging him at least once on this mission. Right across the left side of his face I think, yes, that would be perfect."
"Jesus Vik, you seem pretty damn adamant about this." Andrew laughed.
"Well since you left I have found no one who even comes close to replacing my old human punching bag."
"Same ol' Vik."
Andrew shook his head and chuckled some more before discussing there last new entry. In fact the prospect of a certain out of place soldier garnered some doubts within him.
"What about Sabbag?"
Viktor was silent, as he put the pieces of his response together.
"I think he's capable and willing to commit. But it seems he's on board for his own reasons. And I was picking up that he may be a little on edge."
"I noticed that too. Could see it his eyes and his posture/ Seems like he's taking what happened to heart and is looking to fix it himself. I can respect that but when one takes a mission too personal things usually go SNAFU."
"Then let's hope he can handle the outcome should Berfield be dead."
"What's scary is that I don't think he can. But like I said we don't know what's on the other side. And he's holding onto the chance that Berfield might be alive. And like me, he's willing to go for it, despite the risk."
Viktor walked up beside his friend placing his arm around his shoulder.
"Well then let's hope you're both right, and we get back home safe and sound with our MIA and a new territory to rebuild."
Viktor was about to head up topside to hit the rack. When Viktor exited out of the room and into the hallway he noticed when he noticed Andrew was following.
"Uh, was there something else you needed Andrew?" Viktor asked.
Andrew gave him a sly grin.
"Yes actually. Now this just occurred to me, but if I'm not mistaken, you have something of mine that I let you borrow the day I left Wolfpack. And suffice to say, I would like it back."
The item Andrew was referring to was easily remembered by Viktor. Viktor took a few steps backward.
"Sorry old friend, I'm afraid I lost it on a mission in Shanghai."
Andrew read his friend's face like a book and saw through his facade. Andrew picked up the pace towards him.
"You're lying through your teeth mother fucker." Andrew coldly claimed.
"No, I..I'm dead serious, I have no idea where it is." Viktor insisted with the cracks in his armor showing.
Vik ran but Andrew caught up tackling him to the ground.
"Oh you'll be dead alright if you actually did, but I know you're hiding it from me!"
Andrew then began to beat on him with a few punches to his chest and a slug to the arm, with Viktor trying fruitlessly to contain laughter.
"Alright, alright! I'll take you to it!" Viktor relented "Jesus Christ,get off!"
Viktor pushed his friend off of him and stood up, rubbing the dirt of his tac vest.
"Well old-timer, you still have some fire in you." Viktor observed. "But damn, you could've just asked."
Andrew was standing up when he replied.
"Well I thought it necessary to get the point across, cause I know you'd do anything to keep it."
Viktor just laughed lightly before gesturing his friend to follow.
The two made their way up top through the elevator and walked to the vehicle bay where the LAV was parked. Viktor's fireteam was busy at work and in the midst of prepping for tomorrow night's mission, setting their weapons and gear up to their level of preference whilst also setting out the gear that would be made available for Andrew's. When the two reached the back ramp of the vehicle, Andrew turned around, with Viktor soon following behind.
"Seems you put them at work well enough." Andrew noted.
"They know what's expected of them, in fact I usually don't have to tell them to do this, they know do it before any op."
"Do they have any names?"
"Da, they do. Smart ass. The one at that makeshift crafting table to the far right is Major Hale Kendricks, he serves as our explosives, weapons and munitions expert. He's also our gunner in the LAV, and my second-in-command if I'm not capable to give an order he'll give his thoughts and we'll make a decision from there. He's a good man and a very meticulous one. The one working on the sniper rifle is our own lovely Second Lieutenant Asami Ishimaru. She serves as our forward scout, and sniper overwatch. Her talent at long range is exceptional, but she's still new, and she still needs work at staying hidden. I've only had her under my command for six months but I know that she has the potential, her problem is that she's too full of herself and prone to giving her position away. The one working on those HUD-sets for your team would be our tech expert and Lucky Irish Medic know-it-all, Lieutenant Nathan McCord. He has the biggest mouth and an unfortunate love of jokes. He also tends to drivel on about things he's heard and he can do it for hours on end. Only time he's quiet is when I give the order. He's also our driver, which gives him plenty of opportunity to talk while o the move. Now the big guy prepping his vest next to that oil drum is our support gunner and heavy weapons expert, Captain Egbelebe Jelani. He's from the Congo and that place breeds men for war as if they were wolves. He's one hell of a fighter, and one hell of a temper. For a time, we tired to call him EJ for short, suffice to say he didn't like it. And lastly the man loading magazines and marking papers would be our esteemed Captain Lewis Humphrey. A British man without the common courtesy of one. He's cantankerous, very impatient, very to-the-point. He's also our expert in close quarters and serves as our pointman and hand to hand expert. He can land one hell of a punch too, one to knock you off your feet."
"They sure seem like a unique bunch." Andrew added.
"Well like they say. Every operator has a past, and that's what makes them ripe for the job."
Andrew got a clean look at each of them, only guessing what stories they brought with them. "Every operator has a past" is an old saying the first generation coined at the beginning of First Recon's formation. The saying, despite how it sounded, is meant as encouraging, stating that each member was rock-hard enough to endure what it took to be in a fireteam, and that was a lot. Every Operator has their own tale and that those stories is what made them exceptional soldiers. But Andrew knew from experience that not very team has a solid relationship all the way through its lifetime. Rivalries could form, instabilities, unrealistic expectations of outside perspective led many into a serious state of desensitization. Some were First Recon because all they knew was combat.
"They seem skilled enough. They give you any problems?"
"Nothing major, although when Jelani arrived we had a bit of a spar after a pretty close call in Warsaw. I managed to come out on top but not without a few marks, but I think he got a clear picture of who was in charge that day. Other than that can't say I've had too many problems, but you could say I keep them in line when I need to. Which isn't very often when you're the last of the original Wolfpack. I'm actually viewed as sort of a legend, along with you of course. When you have that going for you the others tend to look up to you for guidance and so I give."
"Guidance, huh?" said with a smirk. "Does this guidance entail how to effectively hide liquor and get away from doing latrine duty."
"Says the guy who stole a Humvee from Vehicle bay to get busy with his girlfriend." Viktor laughed.
Andrew and Viktor shared a laugh briefly at some the old stunts they pulled back in the day.
"Some of that shit would have gotten us shot for treason if we tried to do it today." Viktor said.
"Yeah, no kidding."
Andrew sighed as he observed Viktor's men at work.
"With all this talk I'll tell ya', there isn't a day that goes by where I can't help but miss the old job. Looking at your guys reminds me of when I used to do this shit, when the old team was together." Andrew said.
"Indeed. A challenging time in all respects but not one to be forgotten." Viktor stated.
"Seen any of the guys since?" Andrew asked.
"Yes and no. Last I saw of Jacovi was when he took his papers and left. that was uh, two days after you and Jess got married. I met up with Jahib about six years back. He works with the construction division of the Science Branch now, building housing and digging pipelines."
"Really? Shit, might need to pay him a visit. If I can find him. He like the work?"
"Well, no, not really. Says the job's can be just as dangerous as traversing the waste, especially when digging pipeline. He talked about how one time they dug straight into a nest of those tunneler mutants. Tore three of his guys to shreds before he and another managed to escape. Told me because of it he carries a .357 whenever going underground, but says it was a good way to finally settle down. In fact I think he took inspiration of that lifestyle from you."
"Well a leader does strive to inspire his men." Andrew mocked.
"Didn't inspire my sorry ass."
"Well, I'm under the impression that you're incapable of being inspired to do anything unless it benefits your needs or involves a bottle of vodka." Andrew jested. "Then there's Ming, he stepped down from First Recon to become Colonel of Ft.Downs in Louisville. I was there when he got promoted."
"Yeah, I hear the men call him, "Warden of the Ohio" now. Sounds like he does his job right. You two still in touch?"
"Only on the need-to-know information level. It's been years since I've actually talked with him in person." Andrew admitted.
"That's a shame, maybe one day. Then there's.............Reynolds."
The name didn't sight right at all when it rolled of Viktor's tongue.
"If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about what happened with Ben. His soul's at rest so let's just leave what happened in the past." Andrew asked politely.
"That's fair." Viktor replied in a sober tone.
The topic of that particular man would have almost certainly killed the mood had they dug any further into it.
"Well, enough reminiscing I suppose. Wanna go ahead and open her up? Or were you waiting for my okay?" Andrew asked.
"You may be Commander now, dear Andrew, but The Wolf Den is my jurisdiction." Viktor said with a sly tone. "You wait right here, let the Alpha scope out his lair."
Viktor climbed atop the large armored vehicle and went through the open hatch on the turret. After about thirty seconds of maneuvering himself through the inside, he lowered the ramp for Andrew to enter.
"Climb aboard, Cowboy." Viktor remarked.
"My pleasure, Comrade." Andrew quipped.
Andrew stepped in, taking the inside of the vehicle into view. The vehicle's interior had several alterations done to it that made it differ from the average LAV-25. The left transport seats were taken out entirely and replaced with a weapon rack and a small system terminal for communications. What Andrew was looking for would most certainly not be in plain sight, as he knew his friend wouldn't make it easy for him. Andrew walked about, scouring the nooks and crannies of the back area, all under the observation of Viktor. Andrew neared the seating area when Viktor piped in.
"You're getting warmer." Viktor taunted.
Andrew walked closer towards the exit as Viktor began making a mocking beeping sound at constant intervals. Andrew took a step towards the front of the vehicle and the beeping increased. Now fully entangled into playing Viktor's game, Andrew made his way up and down the vehicle's interior trying to find the hot spot. When he finally did, the spot in question was concealed behind a hidden panel about 30 inches in length under the seating section. Crouching down and pulling it away, the first thing that came into line of sight was a bottle of smuggled half-empty whiskey, bourbon, and vodka resting against some stationary inner workings of the vehicle. Looking past the luxury of stowed liquor however was the item Andrew had been seeking.
"Hey Vik, found some of your guidance next to my gun." Andrew scoffed.
As he pulled it out, Andrew gazed upon it and smiled as if it he were reunited with an old lover. Since the first day of his operator career with The Survivors, Andrew carried an Israeli MTAR-21C. The C model was officially adopted in the year 2036 by the Israeli Defense Force, and improved upon the original in several aspects, such as a more balanced and reduced weight, superior gas venting, a heavy barrel, a less-sensitive mag release, and side picatinny rails for lasers and flashlight mounts. The one Andrew had used had been given to him by a former IDF Commander seventeen years ago, as a token of gratitude for saving his family from raiders two years prior. Since then he used it on almost every mission and knew how to handle it like it were the back of his hand. However, when Andrew took up the Commander position, he left it in the care of Viktor, stating that he could "borrow it" while he was away. As Andrew held it in his hands, he felt a whole ten years younger than he was now, as several memories resurfaced.
"Why the hell would you stow it with the booze?" Andrew asked.
"Why not? My men know better than to rummage around in there without my knowledge. Plus, It was the one place where it could truly be safe, from either my men, requisite officers, and quartermasters alike. It was supposed to be sent back to one of the armories at Ft.Seine in Paris. But like the good friend I am, I hid it."
"If only you put this much extra security with the confidential documents I gave you. Which might I add are still laying on the seat!" Andrew pointed out.
"What can I say, I like my liquor more than my homework."
"Hmph! Well, I suppose we're one in the same there. God knows how many times I need a drink with day-to-day shit I deal with back home."
Andrew let out a sigh of contempt, remembering where he'd be after this. Shaking the thought off, he turned his attention back to the rifle currently in his hands.
"So, did you ever use it at all?" Andrew asked. "You've had seven years with the thing."
"For the first two months after you left, yes. It was empowering at first, and I was still exploiting the fact that I was leading the team. But as time past it felt more and more like a novelty, me carrying your gun I mean."
"What are you trying to say? If you even try to suggest that my gun sucked I-"
"Of course it sucks! Terrible piece of shit from day one." Viktor laughed.
Andrew made a move to give him a friendly slug to the arm with Viktor just narrowly missing it.
"No, I'm kidding! But it felt like it wasn't really mine to use, y'know. I guess after so much time the thought of it being yours was so ingrained into my head that it felt wrong using it. Like I was stealing from the dead or something. It's honestly hard to explain, but I guess I just wasn't compatible with using it."
"Well of course. You're Russian, your mind isn't compatible with most advanced weaponry to begin with." Andrew jested, turning things to the lighter side.
"Really Andrew?! Fucking really? So I guess dear Natasha here, being one of the most silent firearms of all time, doesn't count as advanced in your books?"
Natasha was Vik's weapon of choice. An AS Val of custom making. Natasha had been Viktor's weapon since his days of Spetsnaz. The gun was very old, and had shown signs of constant combat with scratches and dents in the outer casing displayed for all to see. The one Viktor had differed from the standard AS Val in several regards. One being the custom-made dust cover which effectively integrated a top-mounted picatinny rail forged on it's upper receiver. Another being the modification to accommodate a foldable ERGO F93 PRO collapsible stock rather than the standard folding skeleton stock that came standard with it. Mounted on it's three CQB rail system in the front was a foldable vertigrip, an NcStar Tactical Green laser light/flashlight combo device just in front of the grip, and a Compact laser designation device on right rail. The scope of his choice was a Vortex Spitfire 3x Prism, and the gun was covered in his very own custom grey urban grate spray paint camo. Despite this, Andrew had to add one little tiny detail that Viktor was forgetting.
"Vik, your "advanced" just turned a hundred years old this year." Andrew added.
"Still does the job, that's all that matters in this line of work." Viktor protested.
"Well you're not wrong I suppose. Still, you need more than just a gun to do the job right. Speaking of which, I should get ready to do just that."
Andrew was about to walk over to an impromptu weapon bench set up by one of Vik's men when Vik himself stepped in his way.
"Take it slow cowboy, we're still in the midst of getting shit ready for tomorrow. Right now, you better get some sleep." Viktor said.
"It'll a sad day in hell before I let you babysit me."
"I was being serious. Aside from my team getting their gear together, we still need to get the guns out of the hard cases and every attachment and bullet accounted for before your team wakes up. I actually need to get back to helping them."
Andrew could tell he wasn't kidding and decided to comply as he didn't want to be impertinent.
"Alright. Procedure comes first." Andrew said." But expect me to come early."
Andrew was in the midst of turning around to go back to his quarters when he suddenly stopped.
"But before I go anywhere, I want to get reacquainted with my good friend Mister Jack Daniels." Andrew declared. "One last time before we possibly meet our untimely demise."
"Damn. I was hoping you wouldn't drink my already shrinking stash."
"Well, maybe you should have hidden my gun someplace else."
As Viktor smiled and laughed at the astute observation. Vik went along with his friend's request and pulled out the bottle of whiskey and some tin cups. Andrew placed his rifle back inside the hidden compartment. Vik sat down across from Andrew when they both took a seat. Vik poured a small portion of whiskey into each cup for each of them, handing the first cup to Andrew and poured the second for himself. Viktor raised his cup in the air to begin a toast.
"To one more successful op. Old-timer" Viktor proclaimed.
"And to a safe return."
Their cups clanked as they met and the two took a swig of the aged and old whiskey.
The fire brewed and danced in the remains of rusted out barrel, lighting the dark and windowless room in a fiery hue of light. It was sufficient as powered lights were impossible to maintain. It was enough to see. The room was the embodiment of what he was told to fight for. The numerous flags of Quran script adorning the cracked and crumbling walls of the inner sanctum, and the echoes of bombardment and war from outside in the distance set the sinister scene. The smell of fresh blood from the severed heads and the odor of of those who endured the surface's cruelty created an aroma of death. In the center stood the man responsible for the role he would play. By him, two men garbed in black yet battered garb as if they were specters of shadow, awaiting to defend the starkly contrasting man in white.
He always hated this room, owing to the fact of its purpose. If it were up to him he'd pass the room without even giving it so much as a tiny peek inside. But he was unfortunate enough to be summoned by the man in white, which either meant a new task, or punishment. He stepped inside, and even though his back was turned, the frightening figure knew he had arrived. The scene was gruesome and twisted. And the figures on black that stood at his side were just as if not equally terrifying. The man in white spoke in a calm and almost deadpan tone. He asks him of something that happened that he knew about. Something that he did. He responded, declaring that whatever it was had been in line of the man in white's wishes and the goal of his cause.
The man in white seems pleased, and orders his guardians to vacate. They comply without hesitation, passing him by with the small gust of air trailing in their wake. His attention is then directed back to the man in white, who points him to what would be his only hope in a desolate and bloodthirsty existence............................................................
"*Achmed!*" Ahab whispered loudly, shaking the man in question from his sleep.
"Gah!..Wha-"
"*Shhh! Achmed stay quiet. We need to go topside, it's almost 8:20.*"
Achmed soon realized what was going on. Around him, many of the men on station were still asleep in their bunks. As he looked around he noticed that the beds of Sarge, Harris, and Lamond were already empty and made, indicating they were already up top.
"*Achmed, get up man, we gotta go. Hey, try not to lag behind. Today's the day we go fucking operator so you better ready for this shit. Got it?*" he said with an anxious smile.
"*What? Oh, yeah, I'm ready. I'm bringing all I got to the table.*" he said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
"*Great, alright I'm gonna go. Hey, by the way, Sarge says don't bother getting into uniform and stick with your fatigues, and keep your boots here too. She says that the Colonel has better shit for us upstairs. And remember to stay quiet. Okay that's all, see you when you get up there.*"
"*Okay*"
With that Ahab climbed down from his bunk, making his way to the top level. To his astonishment, after an hour or so of reciting the Commander's rules in his head, Achmed actually managed to get some sleep, albeit not the restful sort he was hoping for. Achmed delved into some thought about his dream and why it happened. It had been incredibly similar to one he had the night Tim went MIA, and it unnerved him so much to the point that Achmed didn't want to sleep.
As he climbed out of bed he went over it all in great detail, for it was not so much a dream as he thought. Shaking the unnerving night's sleep aside, he opted to focus on the road ahead.
Just get it together, today's the day so don't fuck up. Get your A-game on, I'm going to need it.
Achmed pulled a T-shirt and some green cargo shorts out from a dufflebag from the bottom of his bunk. Slipping into his clothes and tying the laces to his pair of some old dirty Nike's, Achmed stood up and exited the barracks, making his way upstairs. He then stepped into the elevator and watched the floor counter go up. Achmed tried to pull himself together for the gravity of the situation was what kept him on edge. Achmed went over the four rules in his head again to get a grip on things, for what was about to happen was set in stone and there was no way he could turn back now. When the doors opened to the elevator room, he hastily stepped out and took a few moments to recollect. After about a minute or two, he was back to walking, making his way out of the building and towards the vehicle bay. The storage room that he and Tim had tried to scrounge for supplies had all its doors wide open for easy exit and entry. The sun had already risen in the desert tan sky, and light trailed through the shadows of the room.
Taking a step outside and landing his shoes in the dirt, Achmed took the scene into account. All around him stood the impromptu fortifications that had been set up around the facility's entrance with traversable makeshift walls, concrete barriers, sandbags, barbed wire, wooden planks, and sheet metal. Not really too fortified for fortifications, but it was the best they could get with such short notice. In fact the purpose of the fortifications wasn't so much to defend against coordinated attacks but mainly to keep any mutant stupid enough to approach the compound. Opposite of the main building's entryway stood a series of folding tables beneath various desert camo nets, serving as a temporary rec area for guard duty personnel. Right now only two soldiers were there, eating MREs for breakfast while simultaneously playing each other in a game of cards. Across the wall several men stood at their stations, working the sentry and manning the MG defenses. Other than that, the area for the most part was barren, with the exception of a large garage area adjacent to the rec area, which to no surprise was being used as the vehicle bay.
Achmed made his way towards it and upon reaching a distance 15 yards away Achmed could already see figures crowded around the rear of a large vehicle parked inside. He got closer and to no surprise those figures turned out to be his fellow comrades, all in fatigues like he was. The Colonel stood beside them, still in the same getup he was in as the day before, leaning against the LAV. Achmed was beginning to wonder if First Recon ever took that stuff off, as the Colonel had now worn it for at least s4 hours straight. Right beside the LAV stood three rows of tables with five tables in each row. Littered over them were bags and hard cases filled with equipment, attachments, gear, and uniforms, all neatly arranged into specified sections.
"Sabbag, finally awake I see?" Sarah greeted.
"Yes ma'am." he simply responded.
"That makes six." Viktor said. "Now that everybody is here, let's get started. Follow me."
But Achmed noticed something off and that off feeling soon came to him.He saw no sign of the Commander anywhere.
"Sir, do you know where the Commander is?" Achmed asked.
Viktor gave him no reply and instead turned around to the back of the LAV facing the ramp, which was currently closed. Viktor banged against it four good times before yelling something out in Russian.
"EY! Vy odeli poka!?"
The ramp then automatically opened and dropped to the ground. When Achmed and the others peered inside, a figure clad in a Multi Terrain pattern uniform, a fully packed USMC C.I.R.A.S Type Force Recon Vest in Dark Earth, a weathered Ops-Core helmet in Multi-cam with a multipurpose HUD-set mounted to it. He wore black tactical-sunglasses, army green tactical gloves and pads on his elbows and knees, with additional armored shin-guards in DPM. On his back was a Multi-cam Camelbak hydration/heavy combat pack. His armaments were his MTAR-21C, now integrated with a suppressor, REG ergonomic fore-grip, NcStar blue laser sight, Tactical Flashlight, and Eotech 552 Holographic sight and 4x Amplifier, on his back while his sidearms were a HK USP .45 SOCOM holstered on his right hip and tactical straight knife strapped on the upper left corner of his vest. When the man turned around the face instantly recognizable. The was no other than Commander Sawyer, and he smiled at the Colonel with a retort.
"Eto otvechayet na vash vopros?" he replied.
The Colonel laughed at the sight of Andrew back in an operator get-up.
"How's it feel to back in the game after so many years?" Viktor asked.
"Like a much needed vacation." Andrew replied.
"Well Mr.Retiree, let's just hope "like old times" you still managed to retain that skill of yours. Last I need is to know you've gotten rusty with all those years behind a desk after we cross."
"Not a chance in hell."
Shaking off the callback of nostalgia, Andrew and Viktor cut with busting each other's balls and turned their attention to the five soldiers in fatigues that would serve as his fireteam.
"Good morning men." he greeted. "I'm glad to see you all made it ahead of schedule. Today's the big day, so let's get things rolling. First thing's first let's get to know your buddies. I've already determined who that will be with the Colonel this morning. Lamond and Sabbag, you'll be sharing ammo. Al-Kindi and Harris, you'll be sharing. Sergeant Martinez, you'll be sharing with me."
Everyone looked to their ammo buddy briefly before turning their attention back to the Commander.
"The LAV's not very big so to make this easier we'll call you when it's your turn to get outfitted. Now the rifles themselves are inside but everything else has been laid out on these tables for you. Once you've gotten a weapon feel free to roam and take a look around, but don't do anything to weapon until we're done with everyone. Private Sabbag. Let's start with you shall we? Go with the Colonel, he'll get you set up."
Achmed felt himself freeze for a moment, but managed to find the will to go forward when the Commander informed him they were constrained for time. He knew the Colonel was staring him down as got closer, so he attempted to avoid eye contact. As he stepped aboard and walked with Viktor he gazed upon the selection available. There weapons stacked side by side on the racks, laying down and leaning against the back seats, with some in the front leaning against the gunner's seat. The arsenal was fitting, a
"Private, what firearm do you currently use with 3rd Company?" Andrew asked.
"An AKMS sir." Achmed replied.
"Hmm, AK huh? That will be tricky. I don't have many Advanced AK platforms with me." Viktor admitted.
Viktor approached the weapon rack and ran his fingers just a few inches away from the row of firearms, ready to pull one out when he found the right one.
"Feel free to help anytime." Viktor said.
Achmed didn't hesitate to follow the order. He tried to find something resembling an AK, but couldn't help but browse the rest of the selection. He recognized a few weapons, but most were completely unknown to him. Most of the guns looked to be of a European or American make, with a few Asian weapons here and there. They must have were some of the hardest weapons to come by, as Achmed had never seen some of these in his life. Achmed was still looking at the rifles on the racks when he spotted one on the far right with features too distinguishable for him to miss. His mind took over and played the dream he had the previous night. He walked towards it while Viktor had his back turned still looking for a Kalashnikov platform.
Achmed stood there in front of it, just looking at it for about a solid minute. It didn't take long for Viktor to notice that the soldier he was trying to outfit had walked off and seemed to try and find his own choice.
"Private?" Viktor asked.
"Sir, with permission, may I have a look at this one?" Achmed asked.
"Which one?" Viktor asked. "Go ahead and pull it out."
Achmed did as asked and pulled the rifle from the rack and held it barrel down in his hands.
"Oh, that thing. That's an-"
"Abakan AN-94 rifle?" Achmed said, finishing the Colonel's sentence.
"We--Yes............. yes, that's correct. Funny, I never pegged you as a man who knew his firearms."
"Well, you'd be right, I'm no expert. I only know the gun that I'm given."
It's resemblance to the AK was obvious, but the functionality couldn't be any more different. Currently in his hands was one the most accurate assault rifles of all time, the AN-94B.
The B model, along with the AN-94 itself, was reintroduced in the 2048, three years after the war kicked off. The Russians needed something that could outperform its western enemy, and thus the AN-94 Nikonov was reintroduced into service, with all it's issues in ergonomics, maintainability and mass production either resolved or somewhat easier to deal with. The B also came with a standard side-mounted optic rail and fully integrated 3-picatinny rail guard replacing the old handguard that bulged out at the bottom. The weapon, like so many others, saw it's share of combat through the multiple chips, scrapes and scratches in its finish.
Unbeknownst to Achmed, The Colonel was hesitant to let him use it, as even he had problems with it in the past. The rifle still had it's share of reliability problems, even if not nearly as bad as the original model.
"Well, I'm sorry to inform you that it's not an AK, far from in fact. I'm not sure if taking that's a good idea." Viktor pressed. "The Nikonov tends to be tricky to use. Not a weapon for a beginner like yourself, I'm sure that-"
Viktor's voice fell silent at the sight of Achmed seamlessly pulling the bolt open and inspecting it in case there happened to be a round in the chamber. He then pulled the bolt back into firing position and tested the mag release to see if it was still usable, then set the selector switch to the weapon's unique two-round burst. All of this was done in the span of five seconds, without even once asking which parts of located. However, Achmed wasn't doing it to impress, in fact he had drowned out the colonel's last sentence as he got distracted when inspecting the rifle, which is why he was rather confused when the Colonel began staring him down again.
"Sir?" Achmed addressed. "Was there something you-"
"Yes, Private. I'm curious how some grunt knows how handle a rifle about as rare as diamond and complex as a nuclear reactor?"
Achmed felt his throat swell up and he was reluctant to answer.
"I............I was........given one." Achmed sputtered.
"When?" Viktor asked, as he was curious.
"The.....the war. It was given to me for my.................actions..............in combat."
"You fought in the war?" The Colonel asked in disbelief. "How's that possible, most vets are in their forties and you look no older than 30."
"Not.....every soldier was an adult....sir."
With that last statement, Viktor instantly put two and two together. Before him stood a child soldier, one who fought from a very early age and had grown up into the man standing before him. A lot of things then began to make sense, as Achmed's natural behavior would suit one with a traumatic experience, whatever it was.
"I see." Viktor said. "Know that you have my sympathies."
Achmed was about to speak before he was cut off by the Colonel.
"No. Say no more. I asked my question, I received my answer. No sense in pestering the subject any further, that wouldn't be fair to you."
Achmed felt a twinge more of respect for the Colonel for that, as he wasn't quite sure he could recall the life he put behind him.
"Well, now that I see you seem to be well tuned with that gun, I'd say it be a good choice for you." Viktor insisted "I suggest you go ahead and take it over the that middle table in the first row, you'll find some scope mounts for Russian side rails. The Commander should help you pick one that suits you."
The Colonel walked him out and called the next person in wait. Achmed looked at the rifle in his hands once more. The one weapon that fitted him like a glove, brought so much of his past back into mind. But Achmed would have to put it behind him. He still hadn't forgotten why he was doing this, and he'd be damned he was going to let bad memories get in the way of that. Achmed stepped off the LAV and walked towards the table Viktor had suggested for him.
Seven Hours Later.............
Shots rang and tracers flew downrange as each target took a hail impacts. The automated targets moved rapidly along a course path. The setting was set to combat high, so the targets almost seemed to be darting across the floor making their way for cover and always sought to stay one step ahead of the bullets. Achmed's shots hit their target one after one and his handling of the weapon seemed to come naturally as he nailed target after target at distances exceeding 200-300 yards. The others seemed more than capable of keeping up with him but were still in the midst of making adjustments, sighting their weapons correctly and finding a method of rifle handling that set right with their muscle memory. At that moment a loud blare echoed in the room.
"Cease fire on the range! Safeties on and weapons down!" The Commander hollered.
The sound of gunfire ceased, as did the ringing of the room and in Achmed's ears. He was quick to notice the barrel of his gun was still smoking as heat vented from it. Achmed and the others had their weapons fully decked out and the gear they would be taking was currently stored in a locker room on the 21st floor. The whole process of getting geared up and supplied took two hours, then another hour going over mission procedure once again with the Commander and The Colonel, just as a refresher should they forget the goal of the mission. Then two more hours going through some tips on proper survival equipment and a walkthrough on how to use it. Then finally to where they were now, at the range. They would be spending at least three more hours firing blanks and getting accustomed to their new weapons.
Achmed took the time to go over the attachments he chose, as well as that of equipment choice as well. On it was tradition Soviet optic mount which currently held an PK-A 3.4x scope. On the right rail was a laser sight, with a surefire M900 flashlight grip on the bottom, any bare rails had rail covers slapped on them. His sidearm was the same P226, only with an under-slung laser/flashlight combo attached.
Achmed then peered over to what firepower his colleagues would be bringing to the mission. The Sarge opted for something that essentially operated the same way as her M4, and thus she for an HK416A5. The Sarge outfitted hers with an Elcon Specter 4x scope and a laser sight on the top rail, with and an MWG Magwell grip. The handguard rails were covered with guards, and the stock sported an emergency mag pouch. Her sidearm, a Springfield Operator .45 1911, with an under-slung flashlight and a laser sight embedded within the the grip.
Harris carried a Rogue bullpup M14, a rather rare gun to find as only a handful were made. The Colonel commented by saying that First Recon dubbed it, "The Bulldog" as the gun packed quite a punch, essentially turning the standard M14 into a weapon with modern assault rifle capabilities. Harris had his outfitted with an 18'' short barrel, muzzle brake, Tactical flashlight on the left rail and a laser sight on the right. His scope of choice was an ACOG TA31 4x with a MS01 dot sight on top, and an AFG angled foregrip for further recoil control. Harris went a little further with the sidearms as he carried a dual set of Gsh-18'.
After several denials for a mini gun and the following smack to the head by the Colonel, Ahab ended up with an US Mk. 24 Mod 0. The rifle was an upgrade to The M39 EMR and had been in service with the united states armed forces since 2022. The upgrade mainly consisted of the implementation of a buffer tube which allowed it to be outfitted with collapsible AR-15 stocks and an ergonomic pistol grip. Since the time of it's heyday, it served as the go-to Marksman rifle for many Militia sharpshooters who were lucky enough to get their hands on one. He had his set up for medium range engagements with a bipod, a Tactical Rangefinder on the left rail, and a TR20-1 3-9x40 Rifle scope. For his his sidearm, he carried a G18 with a suppressor.
Lamond's choice reflected on the choice Achmed made when choosing his rifle. Lamond was given an AKU-12, the carbine version of the the AK-12. The gun was coated in a weathered Olive Drab finish. On it was a ATN 331 1-4x Thermal scope, a T-POD vertical grip, laser sight, and a suppressor threaded at the end of the barrel and carried an M9 tactical with a flash hider as his sidearm.
At that moment the Commander walked into the room to oversee how well they did. The targets were hit in a multitude of places with some turned into complete Swiss cheese, with most of the rounds landing in the the mid-sections with a few making it towards the center.
"Not bad. Seems your all's aim is top notch even when the targets moving. Let's take another crack at it shall we? Fresh targets. Use your sidearms this time."
The Commander then went back to the spectator's position as everyone laid down their rifles on the table and picked up their sidearm, or sidearms in Harris' case. The targets were then automatically replaced with fresh ones and the sequence restarted.
Three Hours later.....
After three and a half hours of range time with a meal between 1700 and 1800, the moment of truth had finally arrived. The newly formed Fireteam Osaka now stood together in the locker room, gearing up for the mission that awaited them. For Achmed the nervousness was at an all time high. Achmed was putting his tac vest on when he stopped to catch his breath. All of a sudden he felt the need to throw up and he was breathing so loudly that everyone could hear him.
"Hey Sabbag, deep breaths." Ahab quipped making a mocking gesture. "In through the nose and out through the mouth."
Achmed would have told him to fuck off had he not been at the point of hyperventilating. Thankfully the Sarge walked in on the conversation and was there to ease his nerves a little.
"Ahab. Shut up." The Sarge barked, getting in his face to assert her point.
She grabbed Sabbag and turned him around, placing both arms on his shoulders.
"Achmed, get it together. What's wrong?"
"I'm scared Sarge."
"Sabbag, there's no need to be nervous." she said in comforting tone.
"Really? R...Really? We're about to step into god knows what and you're saying there's no need to be nervous?" Achmed questioned.
The Sarge gave him a look that did her no favors in hiding how she really felt, she knew he was right. She then sighed heavily.
"Okay look. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared too, but each of us is gonna have each other's six when we're out there, just like every other mission. But what's most important right now is why we're doing this, why we came aboard in the first place. Berfield's probably in hell right now and I'm sure he's more scared than you right now, don't you think. He's in there alone with Scavenging supplies while we go headfirst with some of the best gear available to us."
"Yeah, I suppose so. But-"
"Hey, perk up alright. We'll be okay, you'll see. In the meantime try to do anything to calm your nerves, if you need to throw up, do it now. Mission's a go in less than an half an hour so I need everyone's shit together."
Achmed took her words into careful consideration and realized that she was right.
"I won't let you down. And I don't think I need to throw up."
"Good, cause I wasn't looking forward to having to clean it up before we head down."
Their reason for doing this was clear. His urge to fix what he started still hadn't been shaken. But the thought of traversing into the literal unknown was daunting and not to be brushed off lightly. Not to mention his fear of his track record in the past when it came to handling assignments. The thought of one of his screw ups getting everyone killed trailed in the back of his mind. It took all his courage and stability combined to try and not think about it. Achmed regained enough control to finish prepping. The Sarge had walked off to oversee Harris and Lamond when Ahab whispered something to Achmed.
"*Hey Sabbag, ready to see your boyfriend again?*" he whispered mockingly.
Achmed turned around and threw his helmet at him, nailing Al-Kindi in the chest with great force, enough to make him stumble.
"Alright! Alright! It was a fucking joke, man. No need to get violent." Ahab said.
Lamond was fortunate saw the whole thing unfold and was now found himself laughing.
"Hit him again Achmed, Ahab deserves more shit than he gets." Lamond quipped.
Achmed opted to ignore whatever exchange then ensued between Ahab and Lamond. The helmet he threw at Ahab's chest had bounced off and landed on the floor by his feet. Achmed picked it up real quick and held it firmly in his arm. Achmed looked at himself in the mirror on the locker door. He barely recognized himself, as he starkly contrasted to the raggedy militiaman uniform from yesterday.
Each them were wearing matching uniforms, a variation of the OCP multicam called "Scorpion" with backpacks in either OD or the same pattern. They each donned different tactical vests that better suited their choice of weapons and equipment, as well as their combat role. Each of them were in Olive Drab, and each, with the exception of the Sarge who opted for a simple field cap, were given a generation 3 ops-core helmet, each one utilized and modified in a similar manner as their vest. Other equipment included a variety of grenades, night vision optics, rangefinders, suppressors for each of their weapons if they hadn't already implemented one in their weapon configuration already, gas masks, rations, you name it. All in all, Achmed went from looking like a guerilla fighter to a special forces operator.
Everybody was set for the mission. Everyone was beginning to plug in their HUD-sets that had been given out before they had entered the room and Achmed did the same. Just before he was about to don his helmet, The Commander stepped in with several black cloth-like objects in his hand.
"Each of you will need one of these." he said holding them out for them to retrieve.
"What are they sir?" Lamond asked.
"Balaclavas, we're gonna be walking right through the area where the scientists and Councilor Bradford are working, so our faces need to be concealed. It was mainly a precaution for me, but as an extra safety step I want all of you to do the same. Except for you Harris, you seem to have that already, covered."
Harris' face made no movement whatsoever to indicate a change in expression, however everyone else either snirked or cringed at the Commander's pun.
"That was really bad sir." Lamond blatantly remarked.
"Well comedy was never my forte unfortunately." Andrew said. "Alright, enough chatter. Take one and put it on. We're heading down in five minutes."
Everyone else took a balaclava and slipped it over their head.
"Perform one last double check to see if have everything you need. Once were down there we're not coming back up." Andrew informed.
With the last bit of instruction handed out, everyone took to conversing one last time before they'd head out.
"Anyone wanna take a crack on what's on the other side?" Lamond asked.
Ahab was the first to chime in.
"Well my hope is that it's a world filled with nothing but drop-gorgeous french maids ready to seduce me at a moment's notice, but most likely it's going to be something that ends up putting us into yet another life-or-death scenario. Might kill us if we're lucky."
"You know Ahab, second to Vanhart, you might just be the most primitive thinking man in the unit." Sarah said with slight contempt.
"How so, Sarge?"
"When it comes to things on your mind, it's either women, a bad joke or some form of violence, be it a gun, your kill count or a mission. Perhaps you should think of something that could perhaps benefit us in some fashion."
Ahab just rolled his eyes, as he was in the middle of checking his backpack to see if he had all his supplies.
"Well, judging from the previous destination records Councilor Bradford and the scientists dug up, we can at least expect the environment to be hostile in some form." Harris chipped in
"Well if that isn't ambiguous as shit." Ahab quipped.
"Besides we don't even know if that's the case." Sarah added. "For all we know it could perfectly fine."
"Define what you consider fine?" Ahab asked.
"A lifeless rock with no life but breathable air."
"If that's what's in wait on the other side, Tim's a dead man. It would mean he be going over 5 days without food or water." Lamond said.
The group continued to touch the subject when a thought came into Achmed's mind.
"What if it's like Earth?" he asked.
"Then it'll be just like what we usually do." Ahab answered with an eyebrow raised. "C'mon Sabbag, it's another world we're going to for fuck's sake, be a little more imaginative would you?"
"No. I mean...what if it's like Earth before the war?"
The others contemplated the idea, but weren't quite ready to place all their cards on that hope just yet.
"Well, we can only hope that's the case, Sabbag." Sarah said. "But I wouldn't rest my hopes on it."
By that time the Colonel had walked in still fully geared with Natasha slung to his side, a Croatian VHS-K2 on his back, with a G36 Heavy Red dot/scope mount, a red laser sight, and a VHS-BG-2 under-barrel grenade launcher, and his Combat helmet strapped in.
"It's time." The Colonel declared.
Andrew nodded, and began to get his team moving.
"Alright Osaka, time to look alive!" He hollered. "I want weapons loaded with safeties on and sidearms buckled in until we're standing right in front of the damn thing! It's go-time people!"
Osaka did as told and were compelled to do it fast. They walked over to a small rack where their weapons were temporarily residing. The firearms were picked up by their respected bearers and magazines were inserted. Achmed smacked the end of the magazine in to ensure it was secured. He looked to the selector switch and he found it had already been selected to safe from when they left the range. His pistol sat in his holster, loaded with the safety on.
"Fall in behind me, Ranger file! Remember your number!" Andrew ordered.
As they began lining up, that daunting feeling returned, only this time all in attendance were feeling its effects. As they marched themselves down the hallway and into the elevator, there was nothing but silence. No last joke, no words of encouragement, just dead silence. Even Andrew, who's life was filled with the atrocities left behind by the Conflict felt the hair stand up on his back as the doors opened to the bottom floor. The seven souls stepped out and proceeded to walk towards their method of transit. As they entered past the giant blast doors, they saw the room was busy with excitement, with scientist at almost every control panel, with some running to and fro to check readings or make last minute adjustments. The portal itself lay dormant and deactivated for the time being. All the while, the 3rd stood at their security positions in the event something hostile came through the portal.
Time slowed down for Achmed, and he took everything into account. He wasn't sure of it, but it almost seemed as if the eyes of his comrades who were staying behind followed him wherever he went, piercing right through the concealment of his new uniform. No amount of equipment could change who he was, but perhaps that was for the best. The others embraced this persona, he didn't. He had no need to, nor wish to be one of them.
Andrew made it his mission to look as inconspicuous as possible, but he found that hard to do when everyone in the room had their eyes on you. From what he could tell no scientist seemed to have an inclination that it was him, but judging from how the soldiers would straighten up their posture or look more attent as they past by, he knew that they knew. Andrew tried to keep a lookout for Bradford, as he was the one who'd most likely spot him out if he got too close. After a few seconds of searching he found him, thankfully, by the control switch about 40 ft away and widening from him. He then looked up to the entry platform, where the remainder of Fireteam Wolfpack was waiting. The metal steps clanked as they walked up to them and stood by their side waiting for the portal to activate.
Several minutes passed, and both teams were left wondering what the hold up was. Andrew and the others remained silent for fear of giving themselves away, however Viktor wasn't in such a precarious position and didn't hesitate to raise the question as loud as he could.
"What the hell's the hold-up!?" Viktor yelled.
One of the scientist men answered back.
"Councilor Bradford's looking for Councilor Sawyer. He felt as if he would want to witness the teams going through." he replied.
That made Andrew just a bit for cautious, as he was unsure how they were going to fix that. The fact that they knew he was missing made him feel a little on edge. He tried to concoct some sort of story they could use to slip out of the situation, but to his surprise Viktor came up with an excuse right on the spot.
"The Commander is still at Ft. Bismarck assessing our operational reports. He's trying to find a way to cover for what was going to be our mission in Shanghai." Viktor informed.
"Well, Councilor Bradford wanted him to see it one way or another. Perhaps we should try to establish some sort of live feed link an-"
"You tell Bradford that if he doesn't activate this machine in the next five minutes I'm going to fire my entire mag in the main console! The Commander is busy and I didn't dragged out here on a whim to sit and wait till you eggheads can play computer geek, I came to do my job! So why don't you pass the word along to your superior so we can both get on with our day? Eh?"
Viktor's words held traces and contained anger, and the man wasn't willing to test the patience of a First Recon Operator currently decked out in full combat gear and weaponry.
"I..I'll pass the word." he said timidly.
Viktor turned around facing the portal. a minute passed and Andrew walked up beside his old friend.
"You think that'll actually work?" Andrew asked.
Not but two seconds had passed before the revving of the floor beneath them began to come alive. An alarm then went off, blaring a low-pitched siren at a slow but constant pace. The machine began to light up as power surged through its circuitry and power cores.
*Entry team, standby.* said and automated feminine voice played over a loudspeaker. "*Time till entry is at 1 minute.*"
Viktor turned to his friend and smiled.
"Eto otvechayet na vash vopros?" he said.
Andrew smiled, but the lighthearted mock of himself earlier did little to ease his nerves.
"So, any last words should we meet our doom?" Viktor asked.
"Glad to see you taking possible death so well." Andrew observed.
"Well, if I do, I at least have the pleasure of knowing it was entirely your fault."
"Well, we'll just wait and see."
The sound of someone's stomach unsettling behind them caught their attention. They turned to see Ahab about to puke his guts out before the Sarge stepped in and intervened, hollering at him to keep it together. Seeing that she had the situation in her hands, Andrew and Viktor returned to looking at the portal.
"Well Vik, I'll make you a deal. Now I'm not one who believes in God, but if we die, and there is an afterlife, let's say, heaven, and we both somehow make it there, I'll buy you a drink. Sound fair."
*Attention entry team, Time till entry is now at 30 seconds.*
"Eh, why the hell not. Now I doubt that what we will find coincides with your expectations, but for both our sake's, I hope this hunch of yours is right." Viktor replied.
Andrew nodded and then turned to his team for the next bit of instruction.
"Osaka, gas masks on!" he shouted.
The team hastily pulled the gas masks from their packs, taking off their helmets and strapping them on as quickly as they could. Achmed could hear himself breath, as it came over his head. The Commander then made a tapping gesture to his ear, indicating they needed to activate their tactical HUD-sets. They did, and the holographic imagery set up the line of clear communication between them.
"Osaka team, verify comm-link status." The Commander issued.
"Osaka 2, checking in."
"Osaka 3 check."
"Osaka 4, check."
"Osaka 5, Checking in."
"Osaka 6, checking in."
At that moment one of the strangest things ever witnessed by mankind happened once again. Out of thin air emerged the same swirling bright blue vortex that had taken Tim so many days ago. The portal grew and expanded at a rapid pace and then almost immediately stopped. The vortex was only a fraction of the size that swallowed Tim and the air pull that pulled at their bodies was nowhere near as strong. The entryway stood at about 6 feet tall and 8 feet wide, just enough for each individual of both groups could enter side by side,
"Safeties off, wait for my mark!" The Commander yelled.
As the others did as ordered, Achmed did the same, setting the selector switch to two round burst and taking up a defensive stance, waiting to advance when given the go.
*Portal activation complete, entry team may now proceed.*
Andrew raised his left arm with his hand gesturing for a single file formation, to which his team complied. A second passed then another as Viktor did the same for his team. Andrew peeked over to his friend, who's only visible facial feature was his eyes behind the lenses of his mask. Almost as if it were natural instinct, both gave the go at the same time and brisked forward, letting the portal envelop them as the passed through. One by one they entered, and when Achmed finally stepped through he found that he was still alive and breathing but could see nothing. It was dark, pitch black to the point where the figures in front of him where nothing more than disfigured blurs.
"Sound off!" yelled a voice distinct to the Colonel.
Eleven voices responded accordingly, indicating they all made it through without so much as a scratch.
"I can't see shit!" Andrew voiced.
But at that moment something in the distance garnered their attention, something that illuminated and shone light at them.
"What the hell is that?" Viktor asked.
The movement came from the east and was gaining speed. Whatever it was illuminated bright orange and seemed to be moving above some sort of surface at an alarming rate.
"Possible Tango in sight." Sarah said.
"Take aim, hold fire until we can get a confirmation on the target." Andrew ordered.
All were ready to blow whatever it was out of existence. But what took them by complete and utter shock is when they found out that the mass was in fact not approaching them, but rather raising above them. In an instant, their surroundings became visible, and what they saw widened their eyes and made their jaws drop. Andrew stood in absolute awe, unbuckling his helmet, taking it, along with his gas mask and balaclava, off as quickly as he could.
Some of the others soon followed in his footsteps, as the sight before them captured their complete attention. For the first time in their lives, they gazed upon the morning sun in blue sky, casting it's warm rays on the dense amounts of life that filled the forest before them. The sight of fully grown trees, alive and growing, the sound of birds chirping to nature's ongoing symphony. Their breath, exiting in a smoky gust upon each exhale in the chill and crisp morning air. The air itself was pure and unlike the ash and dust filled world they left to arrive here. The moment was a marvel to behold by each and every one of them. The moment was so surreal and so unexpected that the team had just stood their, awing at it in complete silence for a solid five minutes, almost forgetting their reason for being there.
"My....god." Viktor stated in a hushed tone to Andrew. "You were right."
Andrew was too busy viewing the scene to register what was said to him. Before him stood the very thing he had predicted would be here, and even still, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was like he was transported into a dream world, a vision only capable of being formed in his mind. But here it stood, in front, behind, and under his feet. The only words he could utter were those of pure astonishment.
"What is this place?" Andrew asked.
Stats
Page generated in 0.047 seconds
Total duration
1,045 users online
1,910,242 hits today, 2,561,572 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Welcome to Narnia.
Well, this has a lot of tags.
7434062 brutality in the eyes of a pony who's accustomed to a country in peacetime, not a human being
Does anyone else realise that this is chapter 19 (I counted) and only now is an official group entering Equestria. How long is it going to take for the invasion, the 'unsureness in the cause' that the description promised to happen? Chapter 50!?!?
(P.S. Love this fic, please keep writing it.)
7434229 Well, I'm nineteen chapters in so I guess I gotta finish it. Though I might push the invasion to happen in chapter 75.
This story will always be awesome!!!
Bit I'm anxious on how this is gonna play out, with the war and everything.
More!
Hah! great so far! :)
7433758 Lol
7436020 Thanks.
7435144 Patience, my dear friend.
That chapter was stretched out to the point where it could have been 1/3 of the length and not lose its meaning.
Other than that, the chapter is ok, and finally we have the rescue team in equestria.
Perhaps it felt stretched out because I dislike the scenes that take place on earth; I find them very boring.
The chapter should be called Saving Private Berfield.
7439291 I like it.
7439265 Yep, pretty much, although there's only one faction.
Ok, now lets see where it all goes to hell
What is this place? And when are we invading?!
7446681 You warlike asshole! I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK!
Willy Wonka's Dream Machine.
This song is to perfect for this story/chapter. Good job and keep up the good work.
And this when things truly go south... or better... or maybe both
Breathe.
You know quite some things about weapons. Have you or someone you know been in the army?
EY! Vy odeli poka!
Ey! Ty odet ooze!