Fallujah - The Pits of Hell (IC/See Signups)

[Konariona]

Mahmudiyah Base
"Yea, yea, shut the fuck up and deal," said Jack irritably. The heat was absurdly high, even for goddamn Fallujah, and the four men were sitting in the shade of the tank, playing poker on the beat-up, little table their squad had on base, when the new arrivals wandered in.

"Damn, man, look at la carne nuevo," said Gerardo, the Mexican-American gunner for the Abrams, "they look damn strange!"

"Yea, well, as long as they can cover us and keep those jihadist RPG toting motherfuckers away, I'll be a'okay with em," noted Eoin Desjardins, the tank's loader.

"I'll reserve judgement, so that they'll buy me something before they all get shot to pieces."
The final speaker, the driver of the tank, Joseph Gaulson, smiled as he talked.

Jack's crew was definitely dedicated, tough, and was kidding about the new recruits. They really loved the footsoldiers to death and would do almost anything for them.
The four men lounged by the tank, waiting for someone to give them something to do.

[North Paju]

Mahmudiyah Base

---

Lance Corporal Picton exited the HMMWV on arrival like many other members of 2/2. He didn't feel content sitting in a steel box under the blazing sun, something else was on his agenda.

''Scuse me Marine, where's yer shitter?'

Asked Mike to a Marine on the base. He responded with a gesture to the back of the factory, sat right in the middle of the base.

'Outstanding, thanks buddy!'

Mike walked over to do his business. He had indulged a bit before the flight over on tacos and burritos, and now he was paying the price with a stench that could be more lethal than Anthrax. Mike enjoyed toilet reading, but as luck would have it, he had no material. Taking a shit without having anything to distract you from taking a shit sure was boring in Mike's opinion. As soon as he evacuated his bowels, wiped his ass and washed his hands, Mike left the port-a-potty and roamed the base.

An M1 Abrams was parked on the base, making up part of the Armored Division stationed there alongside 2/2. Mike walked around, observing the tank in awe. He noticed on the other side four men relaxing in the shade.

'Man, what a thing of beauty. You named this beast yet?' Mike asked. It was often custom for tank crews to give their machinery nicknames, but not always the case. Mike looked closer and noticed the tank's occupant's were playing poker.

'Hey! Reckon I can join y'all?'

[Konariona]

'Hey! Reckon I can join y'all?'

"Course we named her! Michelle is one of the finest American ladies we have in this shithole!" said Eoin, as he responded to the new man's question.
"How about you though? What's your name?"

"And si, si gringo," Gerardo said with a smile, responding to the guy's other question.
"If you got the cash, we got the cards. But I'd check with Staff Sergeant Stokes to make sure you don't have anything to do first, new guy."

The policy with the poker game was that it was always open to everyone, and if they were told to dog the cards, they dogged the cards. However, the tank crew was well respected and there was little for them to do on the more minor ops in Fallujah, though there was no shortage of large ops to go on.

"Yea, hop in," said Steelson, "but like Gerard here said, you need cash and nothing else to do!"

They dealt out another round and played, casually but not disrespectfully disregarding Mike.

[North Paju]

"but like Gerard here said, you need cash and nothing else to do!"

''Parently something's happenin' tonight - but nothin' for the time being. Guess I can spend a bit o' my hard earnt cash!'

Mike shuffled in to join the crewmen on their next game, he almost forgot to introduce himself.

'Oh, by the way.'

Mike extended a hand to the tank crew's leader.

'Name's Mike, Mike Picton. Im with 2/2 Marines. Oorah!'

[The Keystone Federation]

((OOC: Cylarn is busy at the moment, so I will take my own initiative to to restart this and get things moving.))

Captain Lynch walked over to the Second Lieutenants, who were talking of the rumors about a night time operation that were floating around. They were right. "Gentleman, I need you to come with me, Kartune wants us to meet him in the CoC." The two men nodded, and followed the Captain over to the factory, and up the catwalk until they came into what would've been a management office for the factory. LtCol Kartune was waiting. "Good evening gentleman. I'm glad you could make it. Tonight, we will be conducting a night time operation, intel suspects that a very well-known bomb-maker's house is just on the outskirts of the industrial district. Which may I remind you, is one of the most hostile districts in the AO. It will be hot, so we need to go in and come out, before the locals even realize what has happened." He paused, sipping water from a cup he had placed on his table. "Now, the plan is, that Browns and Doan will take their platoons in with the CAAT White team. Doan, you'll have your platoon stand guard outside, and Browns, you'll take your platoon and secure a perimeter around the house. Then, take a few squads of men, with the dog team, and secure the building. Nothing fancy here gentlemen, just a quick and routine night op, understood?" The men saluted, "Yes sir." Kartune nodded in return,"Good, ready your men, you move out at 2200 hours, which is in...0300. Dismissed."

The Captain and the Second Lieutenants walked back down into the factory, the Captain cupped his hands around his mouth, "2/2 listen up! All fireteam leaders under the command of Browns and Doan- repeat Browns and Doan only, ready up, and meet with your platoon leaders for briefing, hustle to it."

---

With that Stokes was on his feet, inspecting his M4 for a last minute malfunction check. "Trigger mechanism is smooth, ejecting rounds with perfection- baby, I love ya." He said, kissing the barrel of his rifle before slinging it over his shoulder. "Alright, Sharid, Carrillo, and Fernandez, gather 'round, and make sure you're all ready to go, I'm going to check with Browns." Stokes walked over to the area where Browns and Doan were looking over a map, "Sir, is this the real shit?" Browns laughed, "Yes Stokes, this is indeed the real shit. We're heading in tonight with Doan here, we're in charge of clearing the house out though, and I want you and your guys breaching." Stokes was kind of struck back by the entire thing, "Jesus Fuck. Alright, thank you, sir." Stokes said, saluting and turning to jog back to his fireteam at the same time. "Alright guys, this is the shit. We're on point, we got breachin' duty." All of the men were struck back equally as much as Stokes was, until Fernandez spoke up, "Fuck yeah man. Let's go kill some Hajji's." With that the men were smiling as they loaded up ammunition and prepared themselves for whatever was to come.

[Jessjohnesik]

Vanessa didn't do much until It was announced that everyone should get ready. Vanessa quickly loaded her M1911 and checked her medkit, making sure there was enough needles and everything else needed to help someone who is injured. After all, she was a corpsman. Her job was to not let people die.

Some guy said something about killing 'Hajji's'. Vanessa did not understand the meaning of the word. "What is a Hajji?" She asked, trying to not seem stupid.

[Phonencia]

Tech Sergeant Shelton smirked, standing next to Vanessa with a hand resting on his M4's pistol grip.
"Hadji was the name of a stereotypical Indian boy on the old TV show Johnny Quest. Today the name's used as sort of a slur for Middle Easterners. Y'know, camel jockies, towel heads, etcetera."
he adjusted his heavy rucksack with a soft grunt and added,
"Most people prefer politically correct terms like Insurgent or Radical, but I didn't join the Air Force and learn to steer bombs into pickle barrels to be politically correct."

[The Keystone Federation]

Stokes laughed and shook his head, while slamming a magazine into his M4, racking the slide, and switching the gun to safety. "Politically correct is used for the whiny ass politicians who need everything sugar coated for them. For instance, Fernandez here isn't an African American, he's black- isn't that right?" Fernandez just laughed, "Yeah boss, that's right." After chuckling a little bit, soon Captain Lynch came into the warehouse to gather the men.

"Okay, listen up, First and Second Infantry, you're coming with us, the rest of you stay here and stay frosty. You have five mikes to mount up, so make haste."

[North Paju]

"Okay, listen up, First and Second Infantry, you're coming with us, the rest of you stay here and stay frosty. You have five mikes to mount up, so make haste."

'Hell Yeah! Let's go smoke some Hadji asses!'

Picton loaded his M27 IAR magazine and finally adjusted his kit. He rose from the gathering of tank crew playing poker.

'Good game, fellas!'

He said, before making his way over to Stokes and the rest of 2/2. He didn't know most of his comrades, so before embarking on the mission he made himself welcome to the others.

'Hey guys. Staff Sergeant Stokes. I'm Lance Corporal Picton, but please call me Mike.'

[Jessjohnesik]

After the command of moving out, Vanessa quickly got ready. Soon, another guy made his way to the rest of the 2/2. He introduced himself. Apparently, his name was Michael Picton and he is a Lance Corporal. Vanessa thought it would be smart to introduce herself as well. After all, the better people know you, the more chances of survival you have.
"Hi, my name is Vanessa Collins. I'm a corpsman." Vanessa said, offering her hand for Mike to shake.

[The Keystone Federation]

"Okay, listen up, First and Second Infantry, you're coming with us, the rest of you stay here and stay frosty. You have five mikes to mount up, so make haste."

'Hell Yeah! Let's go smoke some Hadji asses!'

Picton loaded his M27 IAR magazine and finally adjusted his kit. He rose from the gathering of tank crew playing poker.

'Good game, fellas!'

He said, before making his way over to Stokes and the rest of 2/2. He didn't know most of his comrades, so before embarking on the mission he made himself welcome to the others.

'Hey guys. Staff Sergeant Stokes. I'm Lance Corporal Picton, but please call me Mike.'

Stokes smirked at Picton, "Confidence is a nice perk, bravado gets men killed, so stay frosty for me and we'll be cool." He than looked over at the new Corpsman, her name was Vanessa if he remembered correctly from the list, "Hey, you're with us, in fact" he cupped his hands, "All new guys, you're being assigned to the first and second rifle platoons, so get your asses mounted." he finished, cradling his M4 in his arms again.

He approached the second vehicle in the convoy, it was nearing 9'o'clock now, and it was beginning to get a little nippy as he got into the front seat of the humvee, and as usual, the damn dog was waiting to battle him for the radio. After moving the dog's massive face of teeth out of the way, he managed to grab the radio, "CAAT-2 is ready to get Oscar Mike, over."

[North Paju]

"Confidence is a nice perk, bravado gets men killed, so stay frosty for me and we'll be cool."

Picton smirked positively. 'Sir I can guarantee you that we'll be as cool as ice cubes!' Picton said confidently.

He approached the convoy with everyone else, Stokes entered the second vehicle, and assuming it was the CO's vehicle only twinned with the fact their was a massive ass dog that looked easy to get on the wrong side of, Picton decided to embark on the third vehicle in the convoy, a 50. Cal equipped HMMWV. Picton saw the mount, and smiled with glee.

'Aw hell yeah!'

Picton attempted to climb up onto the machine gun, but he was stood down by a crewman.

'Marine! Your seat is in the HMMWV, not here!'

'Dang it!'

Picton instead, made for a seat on the back of the HMMWV.

'Set and ready to go troop!'

[Jessjohnesik]

(OOC: Logging off soon enough, interact minimally with me)

Vanessa quickly approached the cars. She got into the second car, besides Mike. He seemed ok, but it didn't really matter, she wasn't exactly here to make friends, even if doing so might help.
Vanessa took a sip from her water bottle and took a sip. She placed her backpack on her knees, checking if she had gotten everything she needed. After two minutes, she was reassured everything was there.

[Mizrad]

Hearing the words "Kill some hajis" As well and beig briefed first hand that 2/2 was to move out first thing, Matt makes his way to his Humvee. Noticing Russell was still gone, he gets down from the turret and reaches for the radio.
"All 2/2 Victors [Military jargon for vehicles if you didn't know that, not a lot of people do], this is Red 2-0, mount up and get ready to move over."
Finishing with that Matt stands up. But in the process cracks his MICH against the steel turret ring.
"Fuckin' tight as a closet in here."
Adjusting his helmet back he places his M240 again in the back seat and his hands on the trigger of the M2. Remembering all the stories of how convoys would get caught up in sand storms and how whenever one happened an entire platoon would have to hold hands just to stick together when they were taking a piss so they wouldn't get lost, he rolls up his shemagh. Placing the goggles cover in his CIRAS vest pocket, he flicks them over his eyes and places the shemagh around his head with the helmet covering it.

Looking forward to the road in front of him, he slaps the roof on the HMMWV signalling for a rushing Russ to hurry up as he runs across the FOB.
"C'mon Cap I'd rather not get beat by a raghead just because they beat us there!"
Looking above his head as two Harriers soar over his head he grins. Guess Mr. Haji hasn't met the Marines yet, can't wait for a formal introduction. he thinks. Slapping the charging handle back on his M2, he waits for Russell.

[The Keystone Federation]

One check through his rearview mirrors and Captain Lynch reached for his radio, "All Victors round off." The replies came in, "2 okay, 3 okay, 4 ready to go, 5 ready, let's get Oscar Mike." With that, the first vehicle fired up it's engine and it was off. The vehicles went burning out of the compound just as the sun went down over the horizon. The entire convoy was silent, this was a serious operation, especially because it was at night. They couldn't see possible IEDs or hiding insurgents, so they needed to pay special attention to their surroundings.

Soon enough, the smaller outskirts of the industrial section appeared in the distance the eerie sight of nothing, nobody in the streets, collapsed buildings, the occasional glowing eyes of a wild dog. Stokes of course, ignored it all, still laughing with Dowling about Madden and random shit, but as the convoy came to a stop about 100 yards out from the factory. Everything went dead quiet. The plan was now in effect. CAAT White unpacked, and then moved off to a location about 50 yards behind where they had stopped to keep watch with their heavy guns, while Doans' platoon secured a small sector of the town, as well as the main road that went straight through the town. Stokes got his fireteam together, and motioned for Picton's fireteam to follow as Browns' platoon soon advanced and worked on setting up about a 100 yard radius around the factory. Dowling waited in the vehicle until the coast was clear for his dog to get out. After all if they lost the dog, or him, it could mean more dead GI's from IEDs, and nobody wanted that. Stokes waited for Picton's fireteam and his to gather around behind a small bit of defilade (military speak for cover, usually natural like trees and such) before pulling out a scheme of the operation.



"Alright," he said, chewing gum as he talked, "once our guys set up the perimeter we're going in, remember the ROE, we don't need any civvies getting killed down here, so keep your trigger fingers at bay."

(If anyone- besides Vanessa, sorry jess -wishes to be in Picton's fireteam, feel free, but remember there is only 3 or 4 people per fireteam.)

[Landenburg]

OOC: I'll be part of Picton's fireteam.

"Alright," he said, chewing gum as he talked, "once our guys set up the perimeter we're going in, remember the ROE, we don't need any civvies getting killed down here, so keep your trigger fingers at bay."

(If anyone- besides Vanessa, sorry jess -wishes to be in Picton's fireteam, feel free, but remember there is only 3 or 4 people per fireteam.)

"Yes, sir." Alexander said nodding, putting his M16A2 into safety. (at first I said that I had an M4 but I remembered it wasn't invented yet!) Alexander dropped himself into a crouch, preparing for the possible firefight. He secured his radio set while he was down and ensured that his pistol would come out of his holster easy enough.

[North Paju]

'You heard the chief! Asses and elbows, Ladies!'

Picton rallied his fire-team to his position, he was now on foot and out of the convoy.

'Take up staging positions by that there cover.' Picton motioned his fire-team toward a small, bullet ridden wall connected to a building on the industrial site facing towards the objective. Picton calmly but quickly paced toward the defilade, being cautious of his surroundings.

'Keep those eyes and ears open ladies, don't want to send you home in a wooden box too soon!' Picton warned to his team mates. Even only being on a few previous tours he had witnessed the horror of seeing a fellow Marine wasted by a god-damned Hadji, he was determined not to see anymore.

By now, Pictons fire-team were set behind the wall, facing the industrial zone in front of them.

'Team in position and ready, Sir.' Picton messaged across the radio to Staff Sergeant Stokes. He carefully shifted his eyes across the horizon, anticipating what would come next.

"Yes, sir." Alexander said nodding, putting his M16A2 into safety. (at first I said that I had an M4 but I remembered it wasn't invented yet!) Alexander dropped himself into a crouch, preparing for the possible firefight. He secured his radio set while he was down and ensured that his pistol would come out of his holster easy enough.

Picton crouched behind the wall, on the right side of a Marine in his fire-team, who was responsible for communications. Being a Private First Class, Picton had some sense of being this young Marine's role model, someone to look up to.

'Hey, you. Stick by me and I'll keep you alive. Oorah?' Asked Picton, with a reassuring hand on the Marine's right shoulder.

[Phonencia]

Tech Sergeant Shelton remained in the HMMWV with Captain Lynch, his GAU-5/A held tight to his chest and his eyes darting around behind his aviators, scanning outside the windows. The presence of AV-8 Harriers made him hopeful, but the likelihood of getting to call an air strike today was fairly slim. Even if they were surrounded on all sides without any reinforcements and running low on ammunition, the Marines were more likely to bayonet charge than ask for his or the flyboys' help.
On the upside,
he thought,
At least I'm in the air conditioned Hummer with the CO instead of slithering around the streets with the Infantry

[The Keystone Federation]

The air went silent, only dust blew under the light of the moon. Stokes looked over at his men as the last of the platoon encircled the house. He raised his hand into a fist and adjusted a bandana-scarf over his nose. A man from the other side of the compound raised his hand. That was their signal. Stokes released his fist and motioned to move to the building, the sand crunched under their feet with every step, it felt as if it were so loud, ear piercing. He motioned for the two fireteams to spread out, one to the left, one to the right. They were now only 75 yards out, when the unthinkable happened. Yet none of them knew what it was until it was too late.

Darkness

In one short instant, the building exploded with a fury so large it crumbled the walls like they were made twigs. They were far enough out, but the debris was everywhere. The sharp whistling sound, the bursting of the eardrum, Stokes couldn't hear anything, as if he was dead to the world. On top of him sat a piece of debris, only a light piece of the wall. He pryed it off of him and got onto all fours, then his feet, still unstable from the blast. The building was completely obliterated, replaced with the fires of hell, and like a quickly tightening ring, insurgents were flooding in from all sides, mostly from the city. Fernandez was down, along with one of the men from Picton's fireteam. Another screaming, not in pain, but in complete shell-shock. The sharp whistling in Stokes' ear started growing lighter, his vision blurry, he made out Picton in the rubble and quickly pulled off a piece of debris. Just as he did so, a bullet dropped next to his head and with that, he was back into reality. "Are you okay?!" He yelled over the roaring gunfire, "Get your ass up and find cover!" He then proceeded to sift through the rubble, sitting his gun aside and unburying Alexander under just some dust and dirt, "Find cover! Now!" A bullet dropped next to his head again, this time he flinched and got down just in time for a barrage of fire to go swiveling over him as he lie on his belly. Grabbing his gun, he shot in the direction of the gunfire, as he began hearing CAAT White's grenade launchers going off.

Casualties: 5 men from Browns' platoon KIA, 3 WIA. Unknown Insurgents KIA and WIA. Estimates up to 200 insurgents attempting to flank around either side of the convoy from the North and West perimeter (Yes, your characters can see this in IC as it can be seen from their gunfire.)

Also, just in case you're confused, that bomb-maker's house, well, *poof*.

[North Paju]

The explosion was enough to send Picton to the ground, his body hit the dirt with a thud that was drowned out by the burst of flames. A larger portion of the building, a slab of drywall fell onto him which temporarily pinned Picton to the ground amidst the confusion and chaos. A fellow Marine came to Picton's aid by clearing the drywall.

"Are you okay?!"

Asked the Marine. The voice was of Staff Sergeant Stokes.

"I'm good! Fuckin' savages." Picton replied with an angry undertone. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Southerner, as his old saying went.

"Get your ass up and find cover!"

Picton got up with the assistance of Stokes, who lent a hand to the Marine as he was pulled up. After a quick dust off, Picton got his bearings and ran for the nearest cover, which happened to be a mound of rubble. Spits of gunfire came in toward his front, the random bursts were inaccurate but as a bullet is indeed a bullet - it was still deadly. The shadowy figures emerged as insurgents, attempting to flank the ambushed convoy. Picton readjusted himself before opening a whole can of whoop-ass on the ragheads.

"Contact! North side!"

Picton yelled before he squeezed the trigger on his M27 IAR. He was on one knee behind the rubble, and his shooting pattern arced across the street, which managed to bag himself a combatant. Picton couldn't help but shout with glee.

"YEAH!! 2/2 MARINES MOTHERFUCKER!!"

Picton called out to the hadji's, as he continued to lay down some serious gunfire with the IAR.

[The Keystone Federation]

After finding as many people as he could, Stokes dived for cover as well, but it seemed everywhere was vulnerable, he dug in tight, just as a rocket-propelled-grenade hissed over top of him and Picton, exploding twenty feet behind them, a barrage of bullets followed the explosion, kicking up dust and debris from all sides. "Picton! You stay here! I'm going to get to the convoy and see what I can have base throw at these fuckers!" Stokes got up on one knee, "Covering fire!" he yelled, sprinting across open ground, spraying a few bullets in the direction of the enemy. Sand kicked up at his feet, and about half way through another RPG struck the ground about ten feet behind him, sending him airborne for about two seconds. He landed on his back, stunned, he almost lost consciousness, but a few bullets over his head woke him up and he got himself back on his feet, diving for cover behind one of the CAAT's humvees, which was deafening loud because of the .50 Cal. He opened the door to find the driver shot and bleeding pretty bad.

"Shit, Medic! Hang in there buddy, you're gonna make it!" He said, putting pressure on the wound with one hand, and reaching for the radio with the other, "This is Victor 2-5," he paused flinching from a round striking the bullet proof glass, "Suffering heavy fire! Need assistance!" He dropped the radio, holding pressure on the man's wound.

"Victor 2-5, this is Mother, we have Superhornets on standby, but we'll have to wake the fighter pilots at Asad, we're readying up the Abrams now."

Stokes reached for the radio again, "Copy! Out!" He kept holding the man's wound, which was now badly bleeding, "Medic!"

[North Paju]

"Picton! You stay here! I'm going to get to the convoy and see what I can have base throw at these fuckers!"

"Yes Sir!" Picton replied, as he continued to spray hot lead into the approaching insurgents. He glanced back quickly enough to see Stokes running toward the convoy to get some air support, he then looked back toward the insurgents, one of which had primed and loaded a Rocket Propelled Grenade and had aimed it at him. Picton, out of nowhere froze up momentarily.

"Aw. Shit."

The RPG fired, and the payload landed but did not detonate amidst the rubble that Picton had occupied in the firefight. Both Picton and the insurgent, who was then mowed down by the .50 cal on the HMMWV, were equally surprised.

"What the fuck?"

Picton stared at the RPG round, before it finally sank in that he was in extreme danger of having his balls blown off if he did nothing to intervene.

"SHIT! Get back!!" Picton cried as he grabbed two men in his team and pulled them back from the rubble, and was just in time. The RPG detonated, and sent more rubble in the air. Picton dove for cover as a piece of re-bar flew forward like a spear from the force of the explosion, and landed just short of Stokes. Now out in the open, Picton had to find more cover, he found a small craters in the sand formed by the explosion, and took to diving into it, and continued his fire.

[Jessjohnesik]

Vanessa was under cover when a familiar voice shouted for a medic. Attempting to not get hit by a bullet, she cautiously and with extreme carefulness made her way towards where the shout came from. She now was sure that the voice was Stoke's.
An explosion rocketed the air. But Vanessa kept moving quickly from cover to cover until Stokes was in sight. It was not him who was injured, as Vanessa originally thought, but rather an injured driver. She ran up to Stokes and kneeled down near the injured driver. He was shot in the shoulder. Vanessa took off her backpack and took out a medkit and other needed equipment. She took a pice of washed cloth and poured some penicillin on it. "This is going to hurt." She warned and pressed the piece of cloth against the wound. She checked whether the bullet is stuck inside or it passed right through the shoulder by feeling the other side of the shoulder.
No exit wound. She thought. "We will need to take the bullet out." She explained to Stokes as she took out a pair of pincers and washed them in some alcohol. Vanessa held down the injured driver's shoulder and slowly put the pincers into his wound, feeling the bullet and carefully extracting it. Vanessa tossed the bullet away and took out a battery-powered bovie and started cauterising the driver's wound. She proceeded to put temporary stitches onto his wound and finally putting on an arm stabiliser to make sure his arm isn't subject to any movement. "He cannot move, or else his shoulder will get worse. We will need to get him to a hospital, there might be splinters of bone in there that I cannot remove." Vanessa told Stokes.

[Mizrad]

Wacthing as men surrond the convoy, Matt begins to fire back. Yelling out to the infantry that stayed behind as he begins to light up anything that fires at him he provides suppressing fire.
"Contact all sides! Light 'em up Marines!"
Taking a bullet to the M2's shield he whips around the turret and begins to fire. THUDATHUDATHUDATHUDA! The HMG begins dumping rounds into a pile of rubble acting as cover for a few sandmonkeys. Taking even more fire he turns around again to make himself a target instead of letting his other Marine die.
"POP YOUR HEADS OUT, MRS. MA DEUCE [See what I did there?] IS WAITING YOU MUSLIM FUCKTARDS!"
Looking to another window, being positive the glare of an RPG's sight had just been shown he begins letting his trigger finger go loose. The barrel of the M2 heats up as .50 Caliber bullets spit out like water spewing out of a garden hose. As the wall is riddled with bullet holes, he turns his weapon around to another enemy position. Then suddenly he takes another bullet, but directly to his OTV vest. Feeling apinch in his back he squints, although the kevlar takes the brunt of the shot he still feels it a few inches to the right of his spine and the dinging and clinging hit up on his Humvee. Ducking down to reload he looks at Russell.
"Really wished we got to roll with LAR more often."
Slapping the ammo box into the .50, he turns to Chair Force,
"Might want to bring in those Cobras in, preferably now!"

[Phonencia]

Tech Sergeant Shelton shook his head,
"No time! We'll have to hit 'em with Harriers!"
he yelled over the roar of gunfire. He grabbed the microphone for the radio on his back and began transmitting,
"Harrier flight, this is 1'st Platoon, 2/2 Marines. We're taking heavy fire from all sides. Requesting air support, over."
he said, shifting his GAU-5 into a one handed grip and glancing out the ballistic glass window he sat next to.
Tracers lanced back and forth through the night air like laser beams, occasionally ricocheting off of vehicles and slashing up into the air.
"1'st Platoon, this is Stone 3, we copy. We're doing a fly-by now. Sit tight, over."
Shelton ducked lower in his seat as several rounds clanged into his side of the HMMWV.
"Roger Stone 3."
he said simply, listening to jet engines in the distance get closer and closer, barely audible over the din of rifle fire. He looked up at the gunner,
"The Harriers are flying over now to get a look at the situation. Don't count on bombs release for at least another couple minutes."
he explained.

(wish I knew how CCTs actually call air strikes >.> )