Post by wrath on May 31, 2015 18:18:31 GMT
(OOC Notes: Hope you guys enjoy. Good luck to everyone involved in a match. It was great to actually get to have an RP battle and not be the one to go first, so really... thank you to you guys. Loved the battle this week.)
Diary of a Deadman 07: Cover-Ups
It comes as no surprise that the words conspiracy theory are still dirty words.
Let’s analyze the English for a minute though. A conspiracy is a coordinated effort by a group of people to commit a crime. A theory is a scientifically researched hypothesis. Somewhere in there, I fail to see where they’re dirty words. Yes, there are certainly people in the world that are loony toons. There are certainly people in the world that believe the jews, or reptilians, or aliens control everything. And those kooks give reasonable people with questions a bad name.
But there are certainly reasonable questions to be asked when someone tells me two planes crashed into two buildings in at the World Trade Centers… but three buildings fell down. I certainly believe there are reasonable questions to be asked when three trillion dollars goes missing, and then that shit happens. I believe there are real questions when the tightest air space in the world falls apart for more than two hours, when a single engine Sesna can’t go off course for ten minutes or there’s F-15’s intercepting it and demanding it re-route or it’ll be blown up.
People use the word conspiracy theory, or conspiracy theorist when people start touching at things that they can’t handle. People like to believe that history is accidental, but I tend to subscribe to the idea that if something happened, it was planned that way. That was what FDR said. If something happens in politics or war, it was planned that way. How many people really believe Oswald killed Kennedy? Who believes Tuskegee was an accident?
Hitler burned his own parliament building, murdered a Polish officer, and claimed it was Poland. The US put operation Northwoods on the table in the fifties to create terror in the streets of America and blame it on Cubans. And it’s suddenly off the table here in the new century? It’s suddenly taboo to think a government can go mad with power and try to take more for itself.
I know it’s hard for people to fathom that there are people sitting up in dark garrets at night plotting their domination of the world. Normal people would never think that way. All they want is to work hard, make their living, have a nice comfortable life, and have a nice little family. That’s what’s normal. But there are people that aren’t satisfied with that.
They care only for their own power, only for their control of resources and their ability to command other human beings to do their bidding. I know, I’ve worked for more than a few of them. It’s not something I’ve ever been proud of. When you’re young, sometimes you don’t realize that you’re playing checkers when the opposition is playing chess.
I’m not a little boy anymore, and I’m not double jumping shit. I’m not a pawn in someone’s machinations of genocide. I see the board as what it is. There are a lot of people pulling a lot of strings. It’s like a pyramid of marionettes, with one puppet pulling the strings of the next.
Too bad for the people at the top of the pyramid that I cut my strings loose a long time ago. You can say what you want about me… but I know there is a covert world that regular people can’t comprehend. I’m just here to be a beacon of light to the black world you all try to obscure for the rest of humanity.
For ever action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every person that takes up your ideology and succumbs to evil and the idea of self before all else, there will be a man like me somewhere, that will never cave to the will of pure evil.
So as I prepare to sleep tonight, I’m haunted by a voice from the past. I’m haunted by the sound of a galloping horse and a man screaming at the top of his lungs.
In the name of god… to arms… to arms.
A Destiny Forged In Blood
The camera comes on in the middle of a field. The hot Texas sun is blazing overhead, leaving very little shadows over the field. As the camera pans around and finds a field house, Alex Atwater comes into sight. As Atwater approaches the camera, we can see that he’s in a mostly soaked gray wifebeater, a pair of long camouflage BDU pants, and combat boots. There’s an AR-15 slung over his back, and a service side arm on his thigh.
Alex smirks as he gets close enough to the camera and begins speaking. “It seems that you should be careful what you wish for. I certainly was looking forward to getting my hands on Eddie Black, but the reality is, I don’t get to do that by myself. Last week was fun Eddie. I smacked the crap out of three dudes, and we got to talk a little smack and throw some hands. But you and I are going to meet, but it’s not solo. It’s in an Ultimate X match.”
Alex shakes his head and shrugs “I’ve got to admit, this wasn’t what I expected, but it’s not something I’m terribly upset about. This doesn’t seem like that daunting of a task. So lets start with Mr. Jacobsen, because, quite frankly… you’re the one I have the least to say about. I was right about you, Andrew… and that’s all that matters to me. I know who you are, I know what you do in the ring. I know you think you’re a big shot and that you’re going to get the better of me this time…”
Alex starts to snicker “There’s a problem with that though… I’m still going to kick the teeth out of your mouth, spike you on your head, and walk out of Night of the Immortals with a briefcase and a contract in my hands. That right there, the proof that Alex Atwater is better than all of you inside of the ring… that contract, is motivation enough for me to go out there and do whatever I have to do to get the job done. Never mind the biggest stage of the year, the amazing fan atmosphere, and the fact that I get to get my hands on a guy that I can’t fucking stand.”
Alex nods “The chance to prove that I’m in the next echelon of wrestlers in this company doesn’t come around often, and it’s my job to capitalize on it. So Andrew, please elaborate on how you’re going to beat my ass. Please explain to me how driving you through a table was a fluke or some stroke of luck. Please, because it doesn’t matter what you say at this rate… I already know I can knock you the fuck out of this competition. Been there, done that, gonna do it again and get t-shirts printed to commemorate the occasion, son.”
Alex smirks and cracks his knuckles “And then there’s you Guernica… the man that could be the most dangerous in this match. You’re prone to go to the air, so you’ll have no problem dangling from the ropes in the air. You’ll have no problem going to any lengths to get that contract. And while I wish I could say I have respect for you… I can’t, sir. It’s based simply on your arrogant attitude, that the world must earn your respect.”
Alex shakes his head in disbelief. “I generally don’t act dishonorably. I generally champion the good name of our fans, and if you didn’t notice… I kinda step in when someone like Eddie Black is acting like a complete tool. And not only do I behave myself as a gentleman should, I’ve bested you inside of the ring. You can claim that it’s irrelevant, but that right there, should have earned your respect alone. But I don’t respect foolish men that question my character and integrity. Continue to underestimate me at your peril Guernica, because it’s liable to give you a case of the Flash Kick Flu.”
Alex starts to laugh really hard, really fakely, as he tries to speak. “And then there’s you Eddie…” Alex stops the big fake laugh abruptly, his face looking like he’s about to murder someone in an instant. “Oh is this what I’ve been waiting for. I’ve been dying to get you in the ring and kick the ever loving shit out of you. I’ve been dying to put you on your fucking head and make you wish that you had never ended up in the crosshairs of the American Assassin.”
Alex smiles wickedly, the devil showing in his eyes. “You seem to have this twisted idea that I haven’t been ready, willing, and able to throw down with you at any time. You’re the pussy that was whining backstage when I got in your face and challenged you. I was the one that came out and made sure you knew I wasn’t going away. I’m the one that threw down when you got in my face at Convergence. You’re the one that begged off a couple of weeks ago at Sacrifice when you fucked up and I told you to get in the ring.”
Alex nods and keeps speaking “You blasted Aaron Owens, I took my victory over him… again… and you bounced like a little girl. Fast forward a week… you pull the pussy shit and put me in the ring with two men to try and soften me up. Brilliant shit dumbass… cuz… well… nope. My ass got a splinter in it. Then I kicked you so hard your grandchildren are going to be born with stutters and you got pinned by a female.”
Alex laughs a bit and shakes his head. “Somewhere in there, you got the idea that you were going to fuck my life up. Somewhere in there, you got the idea that your delusions of grandeur mattered to anyone but you. The reality is, Eddie, I’ve been ahead of you one step of the way this entire time… and there’s no way I’m going to puss out or walk the fuck away from this fight. Real Americans don’t walk away from a fight. And Texans damn sure don’t walk away from one either.”
Alex nods and takes a step closer to the camera “Eddie, there’s no running, there’s no hiding… there’ just going to be me kicking your ass from one end of the building to the other at Night of the Immortals. There’s just going to be you me, and the two guys you pissed off by walking them into an ass whooping. Who’s odds do you like Eddie? Cuz from where I sit, you can try and swing all the chairs you want... it’s not going to help much. Cuz someone’s going to stop you pretty quickly.”
Alex laughs and gets closer to the camera, pushing his face closer to the lens. “Eddie, that contract isn’t yours. It never was. And Eddie, if you didn’t figure it out already… I was a Ranger.” Alex grins and nods, pointing to the rifle on his back. “I don’t have a single hesitation on pulling the trigger. But that ain’t your fate. You’re just an idiot. You’re not worth the two dollars I’d have to spend on the bullet. No, Eddie… at Night of the Immortals, you get exactly what you’ve had coming to you for over a month.”
Alex growls as he speaks. “And that’s a good old fashioned American ass whooping.”
The camera goes dead and the screen goes to snow and then fades to black.
Preventing Winter: Chapter 03
The still and quiet of the night air disappeared for one long moment and one loud boom as clay shrapnel was sprayed away from everyone on the opposite side of the charge. Leo Koffman popped up from his spot at the back of the line, took aim, and let his carbine spit a hot piece of lead. The little bolt of metal hurled through the air, spinning and arcing in the perfect trajectory; entering the head of the man posted on the visible tower. The man’s body popped straight up for a second and then dropped down, hanging on the railing precariously.
Shouts filled the night air in Arabic as the eight of them poured into the compound. Their raid line was perfect, and despite the fact that he’d never worked with the other four before, he felt comfortable enough to know they would do their jobs. They’d shared their credentials, and the other crew were operators of the highest sort. They were another PMC, just like them, that had been farmed out for the task. And while the competition could be a pain in the ass; they were all there for their pay day and no one was going to screw it up.
Alex was on point and led the march into the compound. The ramshackle mud huts cast shadows, and the sounds of footsteps and orders being barked was giving them all a sense of heading inside the compound. They’d identified their breach point as the back of the compound; the area that was harder to traverse and less guarded. People were coming from the more forward position to take on the intruders.
Alex’s senses were ablaze as he heard the crunch of footsteps rounding the corner. There, just twenty feet away was a young man with an AK-47 in hand. In that briefest of moments, Alex’s eyes met with the young man’s. Before the man could even start to raise his weapon, Alex let loose a three round burst that ripped into the throat and through the man’s face; severing the spine and hitting the brain stem in an instant.
“Tango down! Full tilt boogie time boys!” Alex grunted excitedly. “Go, go, go, go, go, go!”
People were starting to move all around, the line that they had was breaking up; because they were kicking it into full gear. They all had assigned points that they needed to hit. The two man swim teams were each in charge of one area. Leo and Mike were off in a flash, giving Alex and Brian the finger as they ran by them. They were on their way to take care of the weapons cache that the jihadists had built up. The other two groups from the other company were off to kill shit and collect intelligence. That left Alex and Brian to tackle the task of shutting down the escape route of the Sheik and bagging their high value target.
As they continued down the dusty corridor between clay huts, Alex could hear the piffs of silenced weapons and the unholy burst of AKs on full auto. That was the difference between the groups. The crazed jihadists would empty their magazines with no discipline. They didn’t care about running out of ammo, because dying was an honor to them. When they died for the caliphate and their divine lord; they saw only of their own paradise. Alex cared not for their perversion of Islam or the fact that most of their justifications for their bloodlust came from the Hadith.
As they approached the front of the compound, Alex felt a hand rip him backwards and down to the dirt; the same time that the muzzle of an AK-47 blazed out in the night. Bullets started to chew at the ground, creating little dirt geysers as Alex and Brian back peddled as quick as their bodies would move. Alex rolled to the left down a tiny alley and Brian rolled right, sighting his M-4 from his back and letting two quick bursts fly. The bursts shut down the shooting, and Brian rolled to cover into an alley on the opposite side of the tiny road.
“Are you hit?” Brian growled loudly
“I’m five by five.” Alex said.
“I don’t know if I hit him or not.” Brian growled and poked his head out.
There was nothing when he poked his head out. He could hear the wet sucking sound, which caused Brian to bow his head for a moment. He had some compunction, some amount of remorse for killing another human being; but in the same moment, he had the urge to do it again. Being on the battlefield was complicated, and a normal human being was going to leave it with scars. Alex could see the look on his best friend’s face from across the alley, and deep down, it dug in Alex’s resolve to get this job done. There was no way he’d allow them to lose, and allow his friend to feel that way for nothing.
“Let’s get these fuckers, Bravo.” Alex snapped and popped up around the corner.
“Let’s go, Alpha!” Brian said as he popped around the corner at the same time.
They were marching forward, towards their objective. They had picked the most likely spot that they’d have the Sheik stored, and the vehicle and where it was parked. As they moved, Alex heard a sound that sent a chill through his body. The sound of boots marching from a cross street in their direction was growing louder and louder; and by the sounds of it, there were more than just a couple. It sounded like a whole company was coming.
The steady staccato of gunfire was still pounding away in the background as Alex made an executive decision. Yanking the fragmentation grenade off his web gear, pulled the pin and underhand rolled it towards the corner that he knew the group was coming from. Alex counted the seconds down in his head, and plugged up his ears and opened his mouth to equalize the pressure. As the grenade exploded, he felt the ground under his feet tremble. The loud bang was followed by the wailing of men in a sad state of disrepair.
Alex and Brian moved forward, knowing that they needed to keep moving and advance on the enemy or they were dead men. As the approached the corner, Alex cut the pie and came upon the scene. Four men had been blow backwards and thrown. And the other four were running in the other direction. Despite the fact that it wasn’t terribly honorable, Alex and Brian opened fire on them, dropping them down like the scurrying rats that they were.
Alex heard the engine of the Toyota pick up gun to life and both he and Brian took off in the direction of it. They were a hundred yards out from where they needed to be; and as they charged, bullets licked at their feet and around their heads from the man remaining in the second tower. Alex silently cursed at himself for forgetting to gun the man down; but the fog of war had set in upon everyone. They were just doing what they could to get the job done. Alex heard Brian grunt and stop running.
“Get the fucking Sheik!” Brian snapped.
“Are you hit?” Alex asked.
“It’s a fucking flesh wound! Go!” Brian screamed
Alex didn’t think about it too much and continued barreling towards the gate to the compound As he got close, he could see the truck speeding towards it. Alex dropped the magazine from his M-416 and reloaded, dropping the last clip for the rifle in, knowing he was going black on ammo. There was enough around him to solve the problem if need be. Alex blasted at the driver’s seat of the Toyota, and saw the Toyota jerk left and smash into one of the clay huts at the gate. Alex took off running for it. As he got there, he saw the driver slumped over the steering wheel.
Ripping open the passenger door, Alex could see Sheik Abdul Al-Saleem laying flat in the backseat, trying to hide from the fusillade of bullets that had entered the truck. Alex grabbed the Sheik by his robes, yanking him out of the truck. As he slammed the man to the ground, he was reaching for the plastic zip ties on his belt. As he zipped the man’s hands up behind his back, Alex snarled at the man and spoke one very nasty sentence to him in Arabic.
“I’m going to treat you like you treat an apostate harlot if you so much as breathe too loudly.” Alex snapped at the man in his native tongue.
Diary of a Deadman 07: Cover-Ups
It comes as no surprise that the words conspiracy theory are still dirty words.
Let’s analyze the English for a minute though. A conspiracy is a coordinated effort by a group of people to commit a crime. A theory is a scientifically researched hypothesis. Somewhere in there, I fail to see where they’re dirty words. Yes, there are certainly people in the world that are loony toons. There are certainly people in the world that believe the jews, or reptilians, or aliens control everything. And those kooks give reasonable people with questions a bad name.
But there are certainly reasonable questions to be asked when someone tells me two planes crashed into two buildings in at the World Trade Centers… but three buildings fell down. I certainly believe there are reasonable questions to be asked when three trillion dollars goes missing, and then that shit happens. I believe there are real questions when the tightest air space in the world falls apart for more than two hours, when a single engine Sesna can’t go off course for ten minutes or there’s F-15’s intercepting it and demanding it re-route or it’ll be blown up.
People use the word conspiracy theory, or conspiracy theorist when people start touching at things that they can’t handle. People like to believe that history is accidental, but I tend to subscribe to the idea that if something happened, it was planned that way. That was what FDR said. If something happens in politics or war, it was planned that way. How many people really believe Oswald killed Kennedy? Who believes Tuskegee was an accident?
Hitler burned his own parliament building, murdered a Polish officer, and claimed it was Poland. The US put operation Northwoods on the table in the fifties to create terror in the streets of America and blame it on Cubans. And it’s suddenly off the table here in the new century? It’s suddenly taboo to think a government can go mad with power and try to take more for itself.
I know it’s hard for people to fathom that there are people sitting up in dark garrets at night plotting their domination of the world. Normal people would never think that way. All they want is to work hard, make their living, have a nice comfortable life, and have a nice little family. That’s what’s normal. But there are people that aren’t satisfied with that.
They care only for their own power, only for their control of resources and their ability to command other human beings to do their bidding. I know, I’ve worked for more than a few of them. It’s not something I’ve ever been proud of. When you’re young, sometimes you don’t realize that you’re playing checkers when the opposition is playing chess.
I’m not a little boy anymore, and I’m not double jumping shit. I’m not a pawn in someone’s machinations of genocide. I see the board as what it is. There are a lot of people pulling a lot of strings. It’s like a pyramid of marionettes, with one puppet pulling the strings of the next.
Too bad for the people at the top of the pyramid that I cut my strings loose a long time ago. You can say what you want about me… but I know there is a covert world that regular people can’t comprehend. I’m just here to be a beacon of light to the black world you all try to obscure for the rest of humanity.
For ever action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every person that takes up your ideology and succumbs to evil and the idea of self before all else, there will be a man like me somewhere, that will never cave to the will of pure evil.
So as I prepare to sleep tonight, I’m haunted by a voice from the past. I’m haunted by the sound of a galloping horse and a man screaming at the top of his lungs.
In the name of god… to arms… to arms.
A Destiny Forged In Blood
The camera comes on in the middle of a field. The hot Texas sun is blazing overhead, leaving very little shadows over the field. As the camera pans around and finds a field house, Alex Atwater comes into sight. As Atwater approaches the camera, we can see that he’s in a mostly soaked gray wifebeater, a pair of long camouflage BDU pants, and combat boots. There’s an AR-15 slung over his back, and a service side arm on his thigh.
Alex smirks as he gets close enough to the camera and begins speaking. “It seems that you should be careful what you wish for. I certainly was looking forward to getting my hands on Eddie Black, but the reality is, I don’t get to do that by myself. Last week was fun Eddie. I smacked the crap out of three dudes, and we got to talk a little smack and throw some hands. But you and I are going to meet, but it’s not solo. It’s in an Ultimate X match.”
Alex shakes his head and shrugs “I’ve got to admit, this wasn’t what I expected, but it’s not something I’m terribly upset about. This doesn’t seem like that daunting of a task. So lets start with Mr. Jacobsen, because, quite frankly… you’re the one I have the least to say about. I was right about you, Andrew… and that’s all that matters to me. I know who you are, I know what you do in the ring. I know you think you’re a big shot and that you’re going to get the better of me this time…”
Alex starts to snicker “There’s a problem with that though… I’m still going to kick the teeth out of your mouth, spike you on your head, and walk out of Night of the Immortals with a briefcase and a contract in my hands. That right there, the proof that Alex Atwater is better than all of you inside of the ring… that contract, is motivation enough for me to go out there and do whatever I have to do to get the job done. Never mind the biggest stage of the year, the amazing fan atmosphere, and the fact that I get to get my hands on a guy that I can’t fucking stand.”
Alex nods “The chance to prove that I’m in the next echelon of wrestlers in this company doesn’t come around often, and it’s my job to capitalize on it. So Andrew, please elaborate on how you’re going to beat my ass. Please explain to me how driving you through a table was a fluke or some stroke of luck. Please, because it doesn’t matter what you say at this rate… I already know I can knock you the fuck out of this competition. Been there, done that, gonna do it again and get t-shirts printed to commemorate the occasion, son.”
Alex smirks and cracks his knuckles “And then there’s you Guernica… the man that could be the most dangerous in this match. You’re prone to go to the air, so you’ll have no problem dangling from the ropes in the air. You’ll have no problem going to any lengths to get that contract. And while I wish I could say I have respect for you… I can’t, sir. It’s based simply on your arrogant attitude, that the world must earn your respect.”
Alex shakes his head in disbelief. “I generally don’t act dishonorably. I generally champion the good name of our fans, and if you didn’t notice… I kinda step in when someone like Eddie Black is acting like a complete tool. And not only do I behave myself as a gentleman should, I’ve bested you inside of the ring. You can claim that it’s irrelevant, but that right there, should have earned your respect alone. But I don’t respect foolish men that question my character and integrity. Continue to underestimate me at your peril Guernica, because it’s liable to give you a case of the Flash Kick Flu.”
Alex starts to laugh really hard, really fakely, as he tries to speak. “And then there’s you Eddie…” Alex stops the big fake laugh abruptly, his face looking like he’s about to murder someone in an instant. “Oh is this what I’ve been waiting for. I’ve been dying to get you in the ring and kick the ever loving shit out of you. I’ve been dying to put you on your fucking head and make you wish that you had never ended up in the crosshairs of the American Assassin.”
Alex smiles wickedly, the devil showing in his eyes. “You seem to have this twisted idea that I haven’t been ready, willing, and able to throw down with you at any time. You’re the pussy that was whining backstage when I got in your face and challenged you. I was the one that came out and made sure you knew I wasn’t going away. I’m the one that threw down when you got in my face at Convergence. You’re the one that begged off a couple of weeks ago at Sacrifice when you fucked up and I told you to get in the ring.”
Alex nods and keeps speaking “You blasted Aaron Owens, I took my victory over him… again… and you bounced like a little girl. Fast forward a week… you pull the pussy shit and put me in the ring with two men to try and soften me up. Brilliant shit dumbass… cuz… well… nope. My ass got a splinter in it. Then I kicked you so hard your grandchildren are going to be born with stutters and you got pinned by a female.”
Alex laughs a bit and shakes his head. “Somewhere in there, you got the idea that you were going to fuck my life up. Somewhere in there, you got the idea that your delusions of grandeur mattered to anyone but you. The reality is, Eddie, I’ve been ahead of you one step of the way this entire time… and there’s no way I’m going to puss out or walk the fuck away from this fight. Real Americans don’t walk away from a fight. And Texans damn sure don’t walk away from one either.”
Alex nods and takes a step closer to the camera “Eddie, there’s no running, there’s no hiding… there’ just going to be me kicking your ass from one end of the building to the other at Night of the Immortals. There’s just going to be you me, and the two guys you pissed off by walking them into an ass whooping. Who’s odds do you like Eddie? Cuz from where I sit, you can try and swing all the chairs you want... it’s not going to help much. Cuz someone’s going to stop you pretty quickly.”
Alex laughs and gets closer to the camera, pushing his face closer to the lens. “Eddie, that contract isn’t yours. It never was. And Eddie, if you didn’t figure it out already… I was a Ranger.” Alex grins and nods, pointing to the rifle on his back. “I don’t have a single hesitation on pulling the trigger. But that ain’t your fate. You’re just an idiot. You’re not worth the two dollars I’d have to spend on the bullet. No, Eddie… at Night of the Immortals, you get exactly what you’ve had coming to you for over a month.”
Alex growls as he speaks. “And that’s a good old fashioned American ass whooping.”
The camera goes dead and the screen goes to snow and then fades to black.
Preventing Winter: Chapter 03
The still and quiet of the night air disappeared for one long moment and one loud boom as clay shrapnel was sprayed away from everyone on the opposite side of the charge. Leo Koffman popped up from his spot at the back of the line, took aim, and let his carbine spit a hot piece of lead. The little bolt of metal hurled through the air, spinning and arcing in the perfect trajectory; entering the head of the man posted on the visible tower. The man’s body popped straight up for a second and then dropped down, hanging on the railing precariously.
Shouts filled the night air in Arabic as the eight of them poured into the compound. Their raid line was perfect, and despite the fact that he’d never worked with the other four before, he felt comfortable enough to know they would do their jobs. They’d shared their credentials, and the other crew were operators of the highest sort. They were another PMC, just like them, that had been farmed out for the task. And while the competition could be a pain in the ass; they were all there for their pay day and no one was going to screw it up.
Alex was on point and led the march into the compound. The ramshackle mud huts cast shadows, and the sounds of footsteps and orders being barked was giving them all a sense of heading inside the compound. They’d identified their breach point as the back of the compound; the area that was harder to traverse and less guarded. People were coming from the more forward position to take on the intruders.
Alex’s senses were ablaze as he heard the crunch of footsteps rounding the corner. There, just twenty feet away was a young man with an AK-47 in hand. In that briefest of moments, Alex’s eyes met with the young man’s. Before the man could even start to raise his weapon, Alex let loose a three round burst that ripped into the throat and through the man’s face; severing the spine and hitting the brain stem in an instant.
“Tango down! Full tilt boogie time boys!” Alex grunted excitedly. “Go, go, go, go, go, go!”
People were starting to move all around, the line that they had was breaking up; because they were kicking it into full gear. They all had assigned points that they needed to hit. The two man swim teams were each in charge of one area. Leo and Mike were off in a flash, giving Alex and Brian the finger as they ran by them. They were on their way to take care of the weapons cache that the jihadists had built up. The other two groups from the other company were off to kill shit and collect intelligence. That left Alex and Brian to tackle the task of shutting down the escape route of the Sheik and bagging their high value target.
As they continued down the dusty corridor between clay huts, Alex could hear the piffs of silenced weapons and the unholy burst of AKs on full auto. That was the difference between the groups. The crazed jihadists would empty their magazines with no discipline. They didn’t care about running out of ammo, because dying was an honor to them. When they died for the caliphate and their divine lord; they saw only of their own paradise. Alex cared not for their perversion of Islam or the fact that most of their justifications for their bloodlust came from the Hadith.
As they approached the front of the compound, Alex felt a hand rip him backwards and down to the dirt; the same time that the muzzle of an AK-47 blazed out in the night. Bullets started to chew at the ground, creating little dirt geysers as Alex and Brian back peddled as quick as their bodies would move. Alex rolled to the left down a tiny alley and Brian rolled right, sighting his M-4 from his back and letting two quick bursts fly. The bursts shut down the shooting, and Brian rolled to cover into an alley on the opposite side of the tiny road.
“Are you hit?” Brian growled loudly
“I’m five by five.” Alex said.
“I don’t know if I hit him or not.” Brian growled and poked his head out.
There was nothing when he poked his head out. He could hear the wet sucking sound, which caused Brian to bow his head for a moment. He had some compunction, some amount of remorse for killing another human being; but in the same moment, he had the urge to do it again. Being on the battlefield was complicated, and a normal human being was going to leave it with scars. Alex could see the look on his best friend’s face from across the alley, and deep down, it dug in Alex’s resolve to get this job done. There was no way he’d allow them to lose, and allow his friend to feel that way for nothing.
“Let’s get these fuckers, Bravo.” Alex snapped and popped up around the corner.
“Let’s go, Alpha!” Brian said as he popped around the corner at the same time.
They were marching forward, towards their objective. They had picked the most likely spot that they’d have the Sheik stored, and the vehicle and where it was parked. As they moved, Alex heard a sound that sent a chill through his body. The sound of boots marching from a cross street in their direction was growing louder and louder; and by the sounds of it, there were more than just a couple. It sounded like a whole company was coming.
The steady staccato of gunfire was still pounding away in the background as Alex made an executive decision. Yanking the fragmentation grenade off his web gear, pulled the pin and underhand rolled it towards the corner that he knew the group was coming from. Alex counted the seconds down in his head, and plugged up his ears and opened his mouth to equalize the pressure. As the grenade exploded, he felt the ground under his feet tremble. The loud bang was followed by the wailing of men in a sad state of disrepair.
Alex and Brian moved forward, knowing that they needed to keep moving and advance on the enemy or they were dead men. As the approached the corner, Alex cut the pie and came upon the scene. Four men had been blow backwards and thrown. And the other four were running in the other direction. Despite the fact that it wasn’t terribly honorable, Alex and Brian opened fire on them, dropping them down like the scurrying rats that they were.
Alex heard the engine of the Toyota pick up gun to life and both he and Brian took off in the direction of it. They were a hundred yards out from where they needed to be; and as they charged, bullets licked at their feet and around their heads from the man remaining in the second tower. Alex silently cursed at himself for forgetting to gun the man down; but the fog of war had set in upon everyone. They were just doing what they could to get the job done. Alex heard Brian grunt and stop running.
“Get the fucking Sheik!” Brian snapped.
“Are you hit?” Alex asked.
“It’s a fucking flesh wound! Go!” Brian screamed
Alex didn’t think about it too much and continued barreling towards the gate to the compound As he got close, he could see the truck speeding towards it. Alex dropped the magazine from his M-416 and reloaded, dropping the last clip for the rifle in, knowing he was going black on ammo. There was enough around him to solve the problem if need be. Alex blasted at the driver’s seat of the Toyota, and saw the Toyota jerk left and smash into one of the clay huts at the gate. Alex took off running for it. As he got there, he saw the driver slumped over the steering wheel.
Ripping open the passenger door, Alex could see Sheik Abdul Al-Saleem laying flat in the backseat, trying to hide from the fusillade of bullets that had entered the truck. Alex grabbed the Sheik by his robes, yanking him out of the truck. As he slammed the man to the ground, he was reaching for the plastic zip ties on his belt. As he zipped the man’s hands up behind his back, Alex snarled at the man and spoke one very nasty sentence to him in Arabic.
“I’m going to treat you like you treat an apostate harlot if you so much as breathe too loudly.” Alex snapped at the man in his native tongue.
Well howdy there pardner.