Operation Blind Knife [Project Warfighter] [IC]

[Monfrox]

OPERATION BLIND KNIFE

2000 AGL, Outer Territories, Monfrox
1846 Hours
Task Force Atlas

The trip to Monfrox had been a lengthy one in the back of the C-130J that had been purposed for the journey, and after carefully changing over to an MH-53M at one of the airbases en route, the 4-team company was heading to their Landing Zone. Still, the C-130 ride had not seen them alone. A small 4-woman squad was taking a nap up near the cockpit. Of course, any tries at striking up conversation were quickly shot down no matter which one they tried to talk to. Now, it was just them in the hold of the Pave Low. It had been rather odd that they were heading in without being told who was briefing them or where yet.

The atmosphere was noticeably bleak. Buildings seemed long abandoned, the streets were crumbling and cracked, or dotted with craters from explosives. A few unexploded bombs lined the roads. Very few cars looked like they had been untouched, and there was a fair amount of crashes on the way. A few tanks, also vacant, were present, but the holes in them suggested they were inoperable. Night was approaching soon, and dark clouds hung over the sky. After almost a half hour of flying, the crew chief came off the gun and walked back into the hold of the helo.

"Welcome to Sholk, gentlemen! Well...what's left of it anyways! We'll be dropping you off here! Intel says that the insurgents are well-armed, and we've lost a few of our helos to their anti-air fire today already! Sorry guys, but this is as far as we go! You'll get a proper briefing once you make contact with the local Major who's based up the road North! It's a cafe at the end of the street, just up ahead! Don't make any sudden movements as you approach! Just act casual, and you'll be fine!" The young man yelled over the rotors as the MH-53M landed and dropped the teams off.

After a few minutes, it took off and headed back to the airbase where it had come from. The cafe up the road seemed a little far, or at least farther than the crew chief had thought, but thunder sounded above them, almost as if it was welcoming them on their first trip to the country. Wind howled through the empty streets.

Disc 1, Track 01 - Empty Streets

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"Well. I, for one, absolutely love the man's welcoming and heartwarming speech." Johnson's obviously sarcastic comment echoed in the empty streets, leaving them the only sound other than the retreating rotor blades behind them. Everyone in the Death Korps squad simply raised their eyebrows, and stared at him, though the former would not be seen through their combat goggles. It was quiet for a little while afterwards, though, until Vladimir spoke up.

"I don't trust a single thing about this. Why didn't they send a man to meet us?" Vladimir asked the obvious question here, one that puzzled the rest of the group. Exert single man had been studying the area, and an aura of uneasiness could be felt as they shifted themselves on their feet. With the rain pounding their trench coats, they could feel the suspense as they shrugged their shoulders to adjust themselves, and clenched their weapons. Even Robin and Rogers, both normally calm people, were eyeing the edges, watching for the telltale sign of soldiers. "And do we even have a passcode?"

[Hurtful Thoughts]

The Hurty group -or what was left of it- consisted of simply Kayora and acting-commander Ralph Hayes, between them they carried a few extra light drones and ground-surveillance radars. since they were largely being expected to be performing recon and spearheading the very-occasional probing-element with firsthand information on whatever hard-point had to be destroyed.

The huge amounts of chatter coming from Lenin, coupled with Kayora's grimly silent concentration to the little details on the streets surrounding her seemed in stark opposition to their behavior back at the bar just a few short days ago.

"Don't do anything stupid. Lenin. Or we'll have to use these." Kayora warned as she hefted her rifle for emphasis, due to the reduced squad-size she got stuck with the grenadier's load, a 9 kg package on what was supposed to be 'light, compact, and easy to carry', she had tightened her sling so it sat roughly at a hip-ready position without tiring her arms, but she could already feel it starting to dig into her shoulder.

Ralph stayed silent, not because he didn't want to banter, but because Kayora had already said it and he didn't want to waste his breath disciplining her for something he'd have done himself. Although Lenin did have a point, no guide into the outpost was not exactly a good sign...

"Take it slow. Slow is smooth and smooth is faster than rough and twitchy. We're not armatures so don't act like it unless you want to go home early."

[Congreveopia]

Alpha Force, Outer Territories, Monfrox:

“Nexus, radio check.” said Leighton, looking around the abandoned buildings littering the street.

“A -kzbtz- st -zbskr- ry -kshsh- tel -shkzbt-” replied his headset.

“Nexus, don’t mess with me when I’m on a mission.” said Leighton, noticing the artificial nature of the fake interference.

“Signal stable, and you’re not on a mission until you have orders and someone in charge.” said Nexus.

“Stow those jokes until the next op.” said Leighton “You said yourself we’re flying blind except for old satellite data on intel here, and besides, we’re ambassadors here. I want to give a good impression.”

“Charles is addressing the intel.” said Nexus “Nevertheless, affirmative.”

Charles set down the heavy duffel he’d been carrying in addition to his normal mission pack and unzipped it, then took out two drones, both of an impractically large size to walk around with. He released a catch on one of them and it sprung out into an octocopter. He then flipped a switch and it began booting up. As he did that, John unpacked a one meter catapult from the duffel and placed it on the ground. Charles then assembled the second drone, a fixed-wing UAV, and placed it on the catapult.

“Satellite link to both drones stable.” said Nexus “Designating buzzer one and buzzer two. One is the ‘copter.”

“Understood.” said Leighton “Hold them for now; let’s not run down the batteries.”

In the background, Leighton had been listening to the exchange between the Hurti and Namien squads. He felt similarly apprehensive, but was confident that Nexus could spot an ambush well in advance of it being sprung.

“Ready to move?” he asked the other teams, checking his rifle.

[The United Remnants of America]

Remnant Sentinels

"So. This is Monfrox. I see why we didn't set up shop here." Tarzan was walking slowly, facet turned upwards, the starting sprinkles of rain dotting the darkened lenses of his HUD glasses.

An acknowledging grunt from Ninja, "I don't know. I kind of like it." Nina was looking straight forward, his eyes on his teammates, as Tarzan and Ninja carried up the rear of the multi-team unit. Ninja's rifle was slung over his shoulder, dully thumping against his backpack. He glanced sideways at Tarzan, who's LMG was nestled tightly against his chest rig, "You good?"

Tarzan looked back at Ninja, seeing his reflection in Ninja's own tinted glasses, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just hate storms."

"... You hate storms."

"Yes. Specifically thunder."

".... You hate thunder."

"Yes."

"You carry a machine gun. You're the explosives expert. You hate thunder."

Tarzan sighed at the obvious irony of the situation, "Listen, man. I don't like it when nature's able to make a bigger boom. It's unnerving. I just don't like it."

"... Alright." Ninja decided it wouldn't be polite to laugh, so the two continued to walk along in silence.

At the front of the pack, Jackie and Oreo had wandered close to the Congreveopian team. Oreo's back was bulging with medical supplies, since this operation had no specifics on an OpFor, meaning he had to be ready for any situation. His PDW was wound around his shoulder, one-arming the trigger and action, he followed Jackie's steps.

Jackie nudged Leighton without looking at him, "Yeah. We're cherry. Still doesn't mean this whole situation is preferable. Nobody here? Not even shooters even though they've apparently been losing rotary assets out here? This whole thing seems like an ambush, eh?" Behind her, Oreo glanced at Charles and Leighton and nodded his agreement, accompanied by a grunt.

Koopa had made his way slowly towards Kayora, all the while pushing his bandana down around his collar. The mask made it hard to interact closely with people, especially with the tinted glasses, since they didn't convey expressions. Koopa hadn't seen the Hurti techie in a while, and his mind was more or less geared at making up for lost time. As he neared her from behind, he made a point of twisting his boots on the ground to make noise so he didn't surprise her by appearing at her side. Koopa came up on her right, the butt of his lengthened rifle accidentally bumping her hip as it swayed lightly off his right shoulder. Koopa noticed that her usually light load had been traded out for a heavier pack, "You guys look a little skeletal, eh? Seems like they got you pulling double duty. I know the feeling." Koopa grinned at her and wiggled his pack, the pack swayed heavily on his back for a second before stopping. "They give me all the heavy shit, too. But I could carry a few more kilos if you need me to, eh?" Flirting didn't come naturally to the guy who spent the whole of his free time tinkering with electronics or gaming.

[Monfrox]

As the team walked on through the ruined street, a loud boom was heard from behind them. Too far off to be of any immediate importance, but trained operators such as them would distinguish it from the thunder just a little while before. About a minute later, the sound of a jet flying overhead greeted their ears, though it was not alone. Another engine sound came in as well along with the familiar ripping of 25mm Vulcan ammunition. A second boom, and then the sound looped back around again. The cloud level broke, and to anyone looking up they would swear they saw the jet-black silhouette of an F-15, only it seemed to have front canards near the air intakes. It made it's way out of the area following another loud explosion.

Rain slowly drizzled down, but in Monfrox, when it rains it usually pours. An entire curtain of a downpour was fast approaching from behind the teams. Visibility was poor, as anyone could tell by sheets it was coming down in. Still, there was an innate feeling of being watched that would trip off anyone's sixth sense if they had it, for inside the surrounding buildings of the outpost were snipers. One such team was tasked to monitor the way in they were coming from. A hasty sniping nest a few days ago had been slowly and painstakingly transformed into an expertly camouflaged position. A Corporal slowly followed the lead man in her scope while her spotter radioed to the cafe.

"Mustang, this is Stalker Two One, I'm seeing a large group of Tangos moving down the street towards your position, over." She transmitted.

"What do they look like, over?"

"Hard to say. Pretty motley bunch. They don't look like the insurgents, over."

"Stalker Two One, hold fire and wait one. We're sending you some intel, over."

"Roger that, over."

The Corporal didn't take her eye out of the scope that had a lens glare hider on the other end of it. Not that they would need it without the sun overhead but still. The spotter hopped over to her laptop and waited. A file popped onto her screen, a picture of the MH-53M's hold from a half hour ago.

"Stalker Two One, confirm you received the intel, over."

"Roger, Mustang. Looking at it right now, over."

"Can you make a positive ID on those Tangos, over?"

The spotter showed the Corporal her screen. The sniper then looked back through her scope and looked at all the team members.

"Yeah, looks like it's them."

"Confirmed, Mustang. I have a positive ID. It's them, over."

"Stalker Two One, stand down. You are not to engage that personnel. Continue scanning and report anything else suspicious, Mustang out."

The Corporal fiddled with her MSG90 A1 a little bit to get it into a good resting position before looking down over the road. Up ahead, the cafe's door opened and a hand stuck out palm up. A few seconds later, the palm shook and withdrew back in as the door was closed.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"Movement, 11 o'clock." Sarge whispered into his comms, and the resulting report caused the soldiers to instantly crouch down while they looked across the landscape. They were forced to switch their vision to the more well suited night vision, and zoomed in slightly to scan. It was Sarge who was the first to identify the contact, then to interpret it. "Looks friendly. Proceed with caution."

There was an untold sigh of relief within each soldier as they stood up from their crouch, lifting their weapons up to their shoulders and spreading themselves out again. Vladimir, still cautious, gave the order himself, whispering into the comms to bring their arms to battle, which caused each man to heft their mighty bullpups up to their shoulders and cock them. He had no idea where they were, what they were doing, and more importantly, who was there. And he was damn well not about to run into a trap unprepared.

"Comrades, we're moving forward. I'd appreciate it if at least one of you blubbering baboons has the ability to cover me." Vladimir didn't even turn around, but had cautiously opened his comms to the task force and addressed them. He loved Atlas, but sometimes, they just couldn't shut up. "And if one of you ladies, even the REAL ones, fucks around, I will personally slit your throat with your own bayonet while you sleep."

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Ralph placed a hand on Koopa's shoulder, forcing him to slow-down and give Kayora some space, "Stop and think. Why is she carrying someone else's load?" he asked; it was rhetorical, but he hoped the point to let her be had sunk in on several very primitive levels before he let the man go back into formation.

Kayora didn't really walk much further ahead, since the Namiens saw movement up by the café that was their checkpoint. A small man-portable GSR (fancy for "motion-detector") was quickly brought-out to ping for movement. Its waves could in theory penetrate a thin interior wall, but just barely. So about five pings later and no warnings from Nexus, she re-holstered the contraption and decided to rely on the keen senses of more experienced troopers as she advanced without as much benefit of technology... if anything, the power-armor could allow her to grab Lenin by the collar and yank him back to safety.

((I'm instructed to hint that one of you better post actually entering the café))

[The United Remnants of America]

Koopa stopped and looked at Ralph with a blank questioning stare at first before the realization struck him and his already pale Slavic features paled a shade further. The Sentinel took a swallow and nodded, "Understood. I didn't know. I haven't seen her for a while. I'll think bet-"

"Sentinels. Stack on the door. Soft Breaching." Jackie's voice cut Koopa off, and the 2IC turned and watched as Jackie and Oreo took off at a slow, low jog, moving out ahead of the rest of the unit. Koopa picked up and followed after them, and behind him, he could just make out the crunch of two pairs of boots; Ninja and Tarzan following up on him.

As they moved, each Sentinel readied their weapons. Jackie and Koopa pulled their rifles off their shoulders, the same as Oreo did with his PDW. Ninja pulled his rifle off his shoulder and carried it low, moving the powered scope aside for a reflex sight also installed on the weapon. Tarzan hefted his LMG silently in front of him, the barrel an inch off the dirt as he ran as low to the ground as he could.

Jackie crossed in front of the cafe's door before pushing her back against the door frame. Koopa joined her on the opposite side. Oreo knelt beside Koopa, leaning off the wall enough that his PDW could get a clear shot in if needed. Ninja crossed the closed door and did the same on the opposite side, kneeling behind Jackie. Tarzan was the last to get in position. As he ran, he skidded to a stop and laid down in front of Koopa and Oreo, laying his LMG out in front of him, kicking the bipod out, ready to lay down fire if needed.

Jackie looked at the rest of the TF Atlas unit and gave a thumbs-up, an indication that she knew what she was doing. Just because the handsign looked friendly didn't make it not a trap. She shook her hand out in front of her, gaining the team's attention. One shake with three fingers, a second with two, a third with one, and then a pumped fist. Every Sentinel tensed as the soft breaching began: Jackie reached her left arm out and knocked gently on the door before grabbing the door handle and pushing it open enough for Koopa to peek inside before sliding in, Jackie following him. Oreo stood and moved forward to follow, Ninja doing the same, followed lastly by Tarzan, who rolled to his side, rolled onto his knees and moved into the café.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"MotherFUCKER." Vladimir muttered under his breath, and pointed his gun in the direction of the cafe, waiting for something rather stupid to happen. He expected many things, but not the literal one upping of the Remnants. Next to him, as he dropped to his knee, Sarge and Ed put their guns on the shoulders of Carte and Valentine, using them as a makeshift bipod for the time being. The whole ten man squad was ready at any moment to send a barrage of firepower into the café if they heard gunshots. Vlad held his breath, waiting for the inevitable. And then...

Nothing happened. Not a single gunshot was heard after ten seconds of the Remnant team disappearing into the café, and that could've only been interpreted as a friendly unit. Thankfully, at least. Vladimir got up off his knee, and dropped his gun to his side, shaking his head at the Remnants. "It's clear. Pack up and move out. If anything was going to happen, it would've happened now."

Sarge grumbled and rounded up his squad, putting the LMG into his hands and letting out a sigh. One by one the men ran across the road with their guns strapped on their right shoulder, with their right hand on the pistol grip, fingers on the side of the trigger. They slowed down when they neared the door, and Vladimir himself walked up to the door, and knocked on it.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Ralph scoffed at the excessively tactical manuvers of his comrades, the froxians knew they were coming, the position was probably covered, so they weren't surprising or fooling anyone, everything they did so far seemed more for their own amusement.

He walked at a brisk steady pace up to the door as Lenin knocked, then barked through the door, "Task Force ATLAS, to whom do we owe the pleasure?" His carbine at a patrolman's high trail-carry position with the rifle's butt placed against his hip, and the muzzle roughly at his eye-level. If anything did jump him, he'd be able to couch the gun into an under-arm carry and shoot from the hip, or simply flick the rifle-butt back into his shoulder-pocket for a slightly better aimed snap-shot.

((Short post because somebody had to identify the unit before y'all found a bayonet stabbed through your heads, friendly fire is a thing))

[Monfrox]

Disc 1, Track 02 - Milly

"Hey! Stow that shooter before I shove it up your ass!" A rather tall, built, stacked, angry looking brunette Sergeant Major stood directly in the path of the Sentinels. Koopa's gun's barrel was pointing directly at her heart at point blank range.

"And close that fuckin' door! You think I like heating the whole neighborhood?!"

Several other enlisted women were also on edge. The jittery ones were aiming high and low, very visibly frightened, but they were few and far between. The others just gave nasty looks that didn't soften until the Hurti soldiers announced themselves as Task Force Atlas, and even then they still persisted. Most of them were carrying G41's and HK33E's as per standard issue. The camouflage schemes ranged from a modernized urban splinter, dark tiger stripe, and even the old US M81 woodland. The equipment also ranged from light web gear to full-on plate carriers. It was an assortment of soldiers from different units specializing in different things.

However, the Sergeant Major was wearing straight olive drab fatigues and a very sour expression on her face. Upon further inspection, there were quite a few extra features on this woman. The fatigues ended in a skirt around a long, armored tail that was a bit more green than her uniform was. Her arms had scales on them that seemed to end in sharp claws, both of which were planted firmly on her hips, and she was wearing a patrol cap in the same olive drab that just barely managed to sit between three pairs of horns colored the same like her tail. Her nametape read "RISTOVSKI". Above her MEF tape was a badge with a castle on it and another that looked like an M9 bayonet in front of an M67 grenade, both surrounded by a wreath of leaves.

The cafe was bigger than expected from what it seemed, but a makeshift doorway to the adjacent building suggested that the outpost was spread around a little bit, despite the buildings being pretty ruined already. Equipment and boxes were strewn across the inside and a few improvised barriers had been assembled, and a few girls were milling around behind them. The cafe was a front to protect the command center deeper in the block. However, it seemed the only way through to the Major was through the Sergeant Major. She glared down at Koopa (poor guy) and then in turn the rest of the team as they made their way in. Well, this was certainly a show. She turned her attention back down to the unfortunate guy who could not seem to get a break today, and bared a mouth full of razor sharp teeth with a low growl.

"I'd do as the lady says if I were you. I saw her bend an M1A2's main cannon without breaking a sweat." Another voice said.

This one belonged to a regular Corporal who was sitting on a table. Unlike the Sergeant Major, she was wearing a worried smile with her M81 woodland fatigues and cradling a G3A3.

"Heard we was getting some help. If that's you, you sure know how to not look it. You came in ready to blow half our unit all over the walls. Not really the thing you'd expect out of allies, unless that's how they do things in your countries."

[Congreveopia]

“No, but in my country we have a thing called ‘radio’ for inter-unit communications.” thought Leighton, his hearts-and-minds training preventing him from actually saying it.

It was a valid point that they’d entered the building aggressively, but if they hadn’t, and the forces inside were hostile, several of them could be dead right now. Then again, if they’d sparked a shootout between friendlies it could be even worse than walking into an ambush unprepared.

Conversation was something that Leighton actually should be very good at. When he joined the Platinum Soldiers, Congreveopian foreign policy had favored small subtle influences as opposed to the more blunt methods of control that the new MAAPS fleet encouraged. As such, he was trained to manipulate neutral parties almost as much as he was trained to kill hostile ones. His squad’s long participation in Task Force Atlas, where neutral parties were usually dead or hostile by the time he showed up, had somewhat dulled his experience in this area, but he decided to give it a shot nonetheless before some other squad had a chance to ruin things. He was just glad that Nexus wasn’t distracting him with some quip about wanting a sample of the reptile-person’s DNA.

“Apologies for out poor manners.” said Leighton, forcefully. He stepped towards the front of the group and doing his best to lock eyes with ‘Ristovski.’ “We’ve been dropped in the middle of a reportedly hostile city without orders, and hence we might be a little on edge. I’m sure that’s no excuse, though. Undoubtedly all of you have a much more proper upbringing. Now, you aren’t the person who has our orders-” as Leighton said this, he fervently hoped Nexus had guaged the rank of ‘Ristovski’ correctly “-but I suppose you probably know where that person is.”

Leighton did his best to appear confident as met the sergeant major’s gaze. It would probably have been easier if he wasn’t having to look up, or if he wasn’t coming off the slight adrenaline high of triggering a friendly fire ambush, but he still though he did a pretty good job. He had ample practice after all.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

Kayora, probably the last one to enter the bar managed to giggle at the implication that Koopa and Lenin entered *every* building as though it were a breach&clear operation. From her personal experience, the Sgt Major was not wrong.

"Under better circumstances, I'd say you should see Lenin's idea of improving moral back at the bar." She walked up to the major, saw the claws, and decided to give a curtsey instead of a handshake. "I'm Kayora. Hurti-liason to Atlas, intelligence-specialist. The first one through the door goes by the name Koopa, and the one that's one stubbed-toe away from cursing like a drunken sailor is Lenin."

She paused for a second, trying to remember whether they told them about the mission in flight and she hadn't been paying attention, or the briefing was meant to be given here.

"If you're looking for their excuse, Lenin started it by questioning the validity of the briefing we'd been given. It was pretty vague." She then turned her attention to the timid-looking corporal; "So what sort of favor can our unit do for you today?"

[The United Remnants of America]

A moment after Leighton thought it, Jackie said it: “No, but where I'm from, we have this odd tradition of using a radio and calling ahead.” The Sentinels lowered their weapons one by one, Koopa being the last to do so. He had a short stare-down with the Froxian sergeant major before he heard Kayora's voice introduce him, prompting a lowering of his weapon and a step backwards to join the group of Atlas personnel.

From this knot, Jackie looked over the Froxians, who seemed about as frazzled as other war torn groups she'd seen and heard of. The Froxians, however, had the exception of not all being fully human. In the URA, those didn't exist, though there was a word for them: Mutant. The URA had dealt with few altered human organizations in the past, and most of the interactions had been neutral, so Jackie had heard. Usually an assisting hand in a civil war or a defense against an attempt of genocide. However, her personal experience had won her over in this situation. While she wasn't particularly close to any of the Task Force Atlas Froxian personnel, she'd seen them around and knew they existed, which went a long way towards simple desensitization of the slightly off-kilter genetic makeup of the mutants.

None of the Sentinels spoke after Jackie's first comment, rather letting Leighton take the lead. He obviously didn't want a breakdown of communication, which was okay with Jackie and Koopa. It was actually an exception to the rule that Sentinels worked with other groups. They normally worked alone to keep operational integrity up and to limit as many mistakes as possible. Task Force Atlas, and the Sentinels in the Task Force, were the one exception to this rule, an experiment in the making, and so far the results had been good. So Jackie bit her tongue of any more negative or inflammatory comments towards any of the Froxians; an effort to keep the so-called experiment a success.

Regardless of their silence, Oreo showed his obvious surprise. He was the most introverted of the group, interacting with the fewest people in general. He also had the shortest Sentinel career, so his experience with non-humans, especially what appeared to be a unit composed entirely of female humans and female mutants, threw him off. His PDW hung loosely at his side as his mouth hung slightly agape in open surprise and awe, his head tilted just a little to the side, almost as if the team medic had popped a fuse and short-circuited due to coming into contact with the Froxian team.

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"Actually, for just a select few..." Sarge grumbled, his sarcasm and disdain rather evident in his words. He hefted his large V-ATW-R/G onto his shoulder and tightened the strap, heaving a sigh of relief. The armored, black gas mask around his mouth dropped to his chest as he unhooked it from his helmet, and he rubbed his sore face. Around him the rest of the Korps sat down or leaned against the wall, releasing their gas masks as well. Just under his breath, he muttered "Bloody arrogant bastards."

"Usually, in combat environments, we're greeted. Usually by radio. Occasionally by gunfire." Vladimir replied, stressing the radio part of his complaint, and undid his gas mask as well, putting his assault rifle on his back to rest his arms. It wasn't even that long of a day, but he was already getting ready for a long one ahead. Taking view of Oreo, he walked up behind him and only slightly smacked the back of his head with his hand, rolling his eyes. "You're a soldier. Act like it, Tovarishch. As my comrades here mentioned, we were dropped in what seemed like a heavy combat zone. Excuse me for wanting to live longer than most of your soldiers did."

"And a pretty shitty combat drop that was. Who trains these idiots?" Johnson complained, rubbing his back. He didn't have a pleasant experience with the ride or drop here, and that was only exaggerated by his sudden realization of how bumpy it really was. His pain was alleviated, though, when he laughed at Kayora. "With the risk of a stern look, the half drunken Hurti is spot on about the Commissar!"

"Sarge, if I die in combat, I want you to shoot him." Vladimir said, half jokingly but with a grumble. "As much as I'd love to deal with the children, we've got better things to do. What're we here for, Sergeant Major?"

[Monfrox]

Sergeant Major Ristovski merely stared at the group of TFA Operators before her. Well, at least some had more manners than the rest. Of course, Froxians weren't without their rudeness either.

"Oh, I'm sorry," One of the other girls piped up at the comment about the shitty combat drop. "I'll ask your mother next time I see her how I should go about it."

She and a crony laughed before the Sergeant Major's gaze shifted over to them, and promptly shut them up. She turned to the foreigners and merely grunted.

"Follow me." She said, turning around.

Well, following was going to be quite a feat for them as a wyrm with an almost 8 meter long tail had a tendency to not leave much room to actually follow. They also got a look at the SOG Tech Bowie sheathed on the back of her left hip.

"I imagine that such operators as you who seem to be so familiar with the inter-workings of radio communications have heard of something called "radio silence", right? I ain't got the time to grill you, so I'll let the Major fill in the rest."

As they walked in a line beside her in the rather spacious walkway, they went by several other rooms. Lounges and such converted over to service rooms. Except for one where music was playing out of a stereo system.

"Your coffee fucking sucks, Voroshilov. I'm not drinking that shit." Said a short Private who looked to be one of the Recon Corps operators from the fox ears and tail.

"I'm not your fucking mother, Royce. Make your own damn coffee." Said the other, a Private First Class who seemed similar to the Scytale sisters as a lamia, but had yellow eyes, black sclera, and purple skin and scales wearing an M81 woodland patterned urban camouflage uniform that seemed to function just like Ristovski's.

They passed by the infirmary, the largest looking room in the whole post.

"Jesus, how many more people are we going to MEDEVAC today?" A young man wearing vinyl gloves over his hands instead of tactical gloves like the others was crouched over another on a stretcher.

"Command's trying to get a few assets transferred over, but so far it's just sporadic meetings with trucks and air-dropped supplies. We're lucky we're still alive and not under fire right now." The other said, hooking up an IV bag to a stand.

"I hope things get cleared up soon. I feel like we're on our own out here and...oh, shit. He's not breathing, get the oxygen."

"I got it here, start on compressions."

"One...two...three..."

They passed on and approached the command post. Ristovski opened the door and slipped in to the wall, letting Task Force Atlas take the opposite wall. Several other Senior NCOs and Officers were gathered around a large table with a map. The Major was standing over and looking to a Captain next to her.

"We don't know when it's going to come, or if it's going to come at all really. So while it's still quiet, this is the plan."

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"So I want you to grab four other soldiers and search this grid. We're getting an ELT signal from this direction and judging the distance of that enemy fast mover, it should be at least a klick out. Find anyone you can that's still alive. Bring them back here or MEDEVAC them, it's up to you, but do it fast. Insurgents likely are going to try to make their way there as well so get in and get out. That's all."

The Captain squeezed by and left, leaving the Major to look to over to a Sergeant First Class.

"As for that fast mover, we don't know if the pilot ejected or not after they were dealt with so I want you to take two other soldiers with you and do a straight recon over there. If the enemy is there, do not engage and retreat. If not, see if we can't capture that pilot and ship him off the main element to secure him for interrogation. Remember, survival is paramount. Dismissed."

The SFC too left the area, leaving the Major to look over the new arrivals.

"I take it you're my Tier One Assets I asked to be airmailed in?" Ristovski nodded to answer. "Excellent, gather round and listen up."

Disc 1, Track 03 - Low Key
The Major had a small transparent sheet laying on top of the map she was using, though they were roughly the same size. She circled a point on a T-intersection.

"We are here. Currently, we're holding this location in the midst of a contingent of insurgent forces. They don't know we're here, and we're trying our best to keep it that way. Sadly, that means keeping everything very low-key. When you leave, take the back entrance to avoid suspicion. Now, onto brass tacks."

She had a few other places circled and a few other things on the map, but she didn't bother with it.

"Yesterday, one of our VC-130H's was inbound to the airbase you came in from. Our VIP had one body guard on detail, but had to be called out en route to deal with a crisis happening. Sadly, we lost contact with the plane shortly there after. Satellite imaging tells us that the plane was shot down and crashed here." She pointed to an X West, Southwest of their current post. "We don't have many assets here for that kind of mission, as the area is intense with enemy activity. We contacted command and the police's Specialized Tactics Unit was sent in to deal with it. Their last radio check in was over five hours ago. They were tasked to search the crash site for survivors and locate the VIP. We don't know what became of them, but we assumed they were either captured, went into hiding, or are having radio trouble."

She drew, in red, three large boxes along the streets too and from the crash site and post, and circled a large building.

"Your job is simple. We've narrowed the location down to a local hospital, as it's the only thing that is giving off an extensive amount of thermal heat signatures. You are to go in, retrieve any captives, and escort them out of the AO. If you can, try to make contact with the STU. I'm sure they'll be happy to help out if they're still out there. There's just one problem. The enemy has blocked off a lot of the roads to the hospital and crash site. They probably are betting that we're sending more people out. We've guessed as a local motorized and mechanized regiment is in charge of keeping patrol, but the local garrison doesn't seem to carry firepower above maybe a few emplacements. One thing they are packing a lot of is shoulder-launched Anti-Air missiles and gun trucks. Taking those out would probably help us a lot, but I wouldn't suggest doing it on your way in if you want to have what little element of surprise you've got intact til you get there."

She stood up straight and counted off the objectives.

"Get in. Find the VIP. And extract. If you wanted to try to split up teams to tackle different objectives, that's fine, but the VIP is top priority. Make sure nothing happens to them. I'd like to send support with you on this one, but I can only spare one soldier to go. We're running a skeleton crew as it is. So if you have no questions, then you're dismissed."

[Hurtful Thoughts]

"We may have briefly covered it." Kayora spoke-up, hinting at a time when her entire squad came within 15 seconds of fragging half the team in order to enforce radio-silence. Although she was pretty sure the blame was incorrectly placed upon the Namiems that time.

As they followed about as close as they dared to the sergeant-major, largely to act as a friendly-buffer between the two very different groups, Kayora couldn't help but to glance through each and every open door they passed, almost breaking step upon seeing Pvt. Voroshilov, as though seeing a ghost, but was nudged by Hayes to keep walking even as she was tempted to jump-in and assist with a patient in the infirmary.

The logical part of her mind kept reminding her she had a job she was sent here to do, and that these people had what they were already doing about as under-control as they can, there was just something else entirely that needed to be done and not enough bodies to do it with.

When she learned they were the second group being sent out to the same objective, she had one question: "How many were in the police unit? In case we have to confirm their fate."

Hayes nodded at the valid question as he pondered how many time-delayed demolition-charges they'd need to make a suitable 'distraction' from their anti-air assets.

[The United Remnants of America]

Ninja leaned over the opposite side of the table, staring downward at it. Not only was he memorizing the layout, he was taking footage of the map with the small camera lens on his sunglasses. Normally, Sentinel footage would be sent back to the URA to be analyzed, and even with this team, the footage would be sent to the Task Force's HQ, however, the weather in the area was degrading satellite connections just enough to hinder that. Due to this, the footage would be transferred to Koopa's on-body CPU to be processed into a semi-readable and accessible mini-map on each Sentinel's handheld and Koopa's minicom. The data would also be transferred to anyone on the team comms channel; in this case, it would be the Hurti, Namenian, and Congreveopian teams. While doing this, Ninja listened to the major's briefings, only reacting with a shudder when she mentioned "hospital." Ninja's last excursion into a hospital was not an enjoyable experience. The memory caused him to glance up at Charles, wondering how fresh that experience was for him.

Tarzan leaned against the wall. As far as preparation for ops went, he was lowest on the bar. The last time he attempted to do strategy, it ended up with him being shot four times in the chest, resulting in major bruises and two broken ribs. So now he just waited calmly for the command to move out.

Oreo had had broken off at the makeshift medical ward. His instincts kicked in when he heard the Froxian medics begin chest compressions. He quick-stepped into the room and sloughed off his medical bag, which sat over his rucksack. He opened it quickly, digging through it's contents while announcing himself, "Another hand on deck. What d'we need?" His mind was in overdrive. Death didn't deal with him, and he'd be damned to let someone within eyesight and earshot die with him doing nothing.

Jackie crossed her arms, "Gun trucks, hm. Okay. We should be able to handle that with what we all have. We appreciate the assistance of one person, if nothing more than that they know the area we're dealing with. We'll keep an eye out for your previous unit, but I'll say it: Chances for their survival aren't high, I'm sorry. Usually when a unit goes dark, especially one in over their heads, it means they're gone. But we'll keep an eye out for them, either to rescue survivals or retrieve tags."

Koopa pushed his sleeve up, flipping on his minicom so that his CPU could accept Ninja's feed. He also readied the storage for everyone's camera feeds as well as their GPS tracking information and rudimentary vital readers. It was a basic routine that he had waited to do until linking up with the Froxian base camp, but it was still an essential practice. As he was tapping away on the touchscreen, he spoke without looking up, "So, Major. Who exactly is this VIP? Seems pretty important to throw troops at to get back and then call in us."

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"I'll take the one soldier. We need a guide. Not that I don't trust you, but I trust no man." Lenin remarked, his arms crossed. He stood right over the map and examined it rather carefully before determining that this mission was only there as a last resort. Perhaps the Froxians really were spread that thinly. The situation only got more iffy when Oreo had disappeared, but that bit lasted rather shortly. "And one more question, what support do we have? We all have laser designators, so one or more guns capable of firing guided rounds would be absolutely beautiful. Most people here probably aren't used to infantry combat, but that's one thing I learned."

Johnson, Robin, and Rogers were all three examining the map, looking for high places. Those two snipers could provide covering fire to the people below, but he knew that they'd need more than one entry point. And possibly more than one group of snipers. This was not going to be that 'special ops' as he had hoped. Bloody hostage situations. He hated those more than anything. "Does anyone know where the unit was when they got cut off?"

[Congreveopia]

“You mentioned you lost contact with the Specialized Tactics Unit.” said Leighton. “Do you know whether they made contact with the enemy? Have the hostiles been alerted that the hospital might be the target of an attack?”

Leighton noticed the bandwidth of the Nexus link had dropped significantly. It was hard to maintain a data link to a satellite with a roof overhead and without being able to bounce signals around lest the enemy be looking for them. Not that Congreveopia hadn’t invested a lot of money in solving that problem, today it was just hard. Ten years ago it had been impossible.

“You mentioned that this position is intended to be low-key.” said Charles, unconsciously mimicking Leighton’s format “We’ve got some light drones with us; would it attract too much attention if they launched from nearby? I assume it has to be less suspicious than seeing a helicopter land, but I’m checking just to be safe.”

“Maps?” mouthed Leighton. “Hospital plans?”

“I took the pictures I need for the maps.” replied Nexus “I can’t upload them until you step outside again, though. Or, rather, it would take ten minutes to upload right now. I haven’t found any detailed floor plans for the hospital yet. I know the building codes for the area, and we’ve got satellite photos. Also, I’ve got brochures and fire escape route maps for a few hospitals built by the same company. Assimilating all of that doesn’t really give much more information than you’d get from the phrase ‘it’s a hospital’, though. You’re pretty much flying blind.”

Leighton nodded.

[Monfrox]

"The STU had four operatives dispatched. Their last check-in suggested they were not engaged at the time with the enemy. Their last location given in the check-in put them here." The Major circled an area just to the right of the three boxes. "But they could be anywhere right now. As far as the support goes, we're not authorizing anything. We've got fast-movers in the area, but they're on strict orders to engage aircraft only. It's not about the triple-A, but about the VIP."

The Major looked to one of her subordinates and waved her over. "Bring the file."

The subordinate, a shy looking girl with dark-purple hair covering a lot of her face, brought the file over and quickly stepped back to her station. The Major opened it up and retrieved a photograph, throwing it onto the map.

"This is the VIP: Lieutenant General Yaslova, goes by the name "Iron Heart" as well. She's a good girl, and a fantastic strategist. It'd be a great blow to us if she were to be killed, hence why we've avoided making any noticeable attacks beyond probing their lines with recon. We assume the enemy is interrogating her at the hospital, but like all officers she's been trained not to crack. It's only a matter of time before they give up and execute her. You're going to make sure that doesn't happen, got it? After you secure the General, we can authorize the fast-movers to give you supporting fire. Whatever you need, we'll provide. You can try using drones, but if anything happens it's on you and I honestly wouldn't chance it. These aren't your average guys. They're well-equipped and well-trained. Their equipment is as sophisticated as their network."

She sighed and stood up straight again.

"I trust your judgement to avoid taking my command staff, but everyone else in this outpost is free for you to pick. We've got a motley selection here to work with. A few marksman, some recon units, regular infantry mostly, and even a few angels are walking around here. The Sergeant Major is also a combat engineer and easily the strongest soldier here. If you do go out looking for the STU operatives, they're operating on a Tac 2 frequency. If that's all, I look forward to hearing any and all reports come in."

Elsewhere, sadly, Oreo couldn't do much from his position.

"Take it out, we got it from here."

"Yeah, you guys aren't here for this."

It was true. They didn't bring in the Task Force just to have them help with their wounded. And from the look of things, the situation was under control. However, Oreo got a look at the rest of the medical bay. Some soldiers were propped up against the wall and barely conscious. Some weren't. Others looked not as bad. A few gunshot wounds bandaged up. Still, there was a corner where there were bodies with sheets laid over them. Easily into the twenties or thirties from the looks of it.

[Hurtful Thoughts]

"So we are to keep drones for local distractions and as direct force-multipliers only. I'm sure that won't be too much of a problem fir ATLAS." Ralph remarked, thinking of who to use for a guide. Lamia-snipers probably knew al the good vantage-points, and that fox-eared recon-trooper was likely keen and fast, but although Ristovski was likely the strongest and most skilled, she also had the displeasure of meeting Atlas on less than ideal terms; trust is a fickle bitch.

Meanwhile, Kayora's ears perked-up, Koopa had that look of a kid downloading some new features again. She walked up behind him, stared briefly over his shoulder and into his drop-down lenspiece, then planted a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Don't forget, Cole protocol. Keep the chatterboxes quiet when we leave until a safe distance out. I don't think they have the means to get all the wounded out in time if we drew any attention to this place."

[Die Erworbenen Namen]

"We need someone who's been there, and who can give us the juicy details. Who do you have who can do that?" He asked, and looked at the map for a second. They would undoubtedly need support in some form, but probably not in the form of infantry. He was thinking more along the lines of snipers. They needed a rendezvous point, and if they had a sharpshooter covering that point, then they could worry more on the actual mission than on the enemy.

[The United Remnants of America]

Oreo hesitated before nodding. The Froxian medics were right; He had a job to do, and this wasn't it. Still, his heart panged with the thought of leaving death so close to winning over another soul. As he backed away, Oreo placed his medical pack on the nearest counter and opened it. He looked over each of his medical supplies and split most of them in half: wrappings, bandages, syringes, painkillers, and varied creams and salves. He placed half of the supplies onto the counter and the rest back into his medical bag. These troops needed them as much or more than he and the Atlas team needed them. He wish he could split the higher-tech equipment, like his cauterizer, in half, but that's not how those things worked. Having done all he could do, Oreo withdrew from the hastily-made triage center and reunited with the TFA team in the command room, standing silently in the doorway, ignoring the fact that people were suffering and dying only a short distance away while he ignored his instinct and duty to help them.

Koopa started slightly at the voice so close to his ear and the feeling of both a physical pressure against his shoulder and the sixth-sense pressure against his back. He relaxed when he turned his head slightly to see the outline of a slight female whom he recognized as Kayora. "I know what I'm doing. Though I doubt these rebels have our channels cracked. They might have the Froxian frequencies cut open, but we use a different signal with a little more advanced encoding than your average picnic bear. Even if they can sift past all the pseudonoise and static on our channels, they'd have to then crack our MELPe which works at only a hundred bits per second, which I doubt some scrubby rebel can crack open." Koopa couldn't hide his grin as he talked about the communications software. If the technology surrounding him were the candy shop, then it would only make sense that Koopa were the kid. Even so, as he finished the procedures on his arm-bound CPU, his off-hand came up slowly, coming over his shoulder to lightly touch Kayora's hand, "Don't worry... We're safe with me at the controller."

Jackie grunted quietly, reading the file on the VIP, "Hm. A hospital is a hard location to secure, but even harder to assault, especially if they're ready and willing to just kill her. I hope you know, Major, that the chances for Lieutenant General Yaslova's survival are not what I would call optimal. It doesn't matter what skill these rebels are; A farmer can pull a trigger to a gun pressed to her head as well as you or I could. Either way..." Jackie looked up and around, "As for who to take... Leighton, Ralph, Vlad? Either of you have any preference? I'm not really partial to taking anyone with us, since another body is another one we need to keep track of, so I'll leave it up to you three."