Operation Brannigan's Law [Project Warfighter Thread]

[Post War America]

La Republica Socialista de Isla Plata
Sea of Verde
CNS Nemesis
Port Side Hull, Flight Deck
14. October. 2066/16
11:30 Hours

The heavy, moist air of the late Verdean monsoon season hung in the air like a cloak, causing the smell of burning fuel to stick to the flight deck’s surface. The tower on this deck was dwarfed by the massive main superstructure of the Nemesis, which stood like a massive building on the artificial island that was the ship. It had only been nine hours since Nemesis arrived in theater, and yet it was buzzing with activities, as the 14th Air Assault prepared for and headed off on their official mission, destroying an important Silver Hand Base. The 1st battalion was well underway, having cleared off the deck nearly an hour ago, and the 3rd Battalion had begun launching soon after that.

The last of the 14th Air Assault’s 3rd battalion VTOLs had gracefully swept off the deck, leaving only the deck crew on deck, clearing up space for the recon reports from the 2nd battalion’s Falcons. A crew member bearing the name badge Saez walked onto the deck, approaching the crew chief. The crew chief, a woman bearing the name badge Snow saluted Saez, as he came closer, before continuing to direct her men.

“Snow, is the deck clear to receive new arrivals”? Snow turned around, getting a group of five crew members to clear off some spilled fuel.

“It will be momentarily sir. There was an incident with the fuel canisters, and I want to make sure that we clear that up before we have a fire on deck”. Saez twisted a little in place, clearly impatient.

“I need the deck to be ready now. We need to find out whether or current inflil zone is clear for the Operation”. Snow ushered another crew chief over to her.

“Get the last of that fuel mopped up, we’ve got Falcons coming in”. The crew chief nodded to the affirmative.

“Which? The Atlas mission”?

“Correct. See to it that the deck is clear in five minutes”. Saez walked into the tower, shutting the hatch behind him. Snow returned to her duties. The Falcons however, arrived sooner than five minutes later, which was to be expected. The pilots of OV-3 Falcons were usually the hot dog pilots of the Proletarian Guard’s Air School, and often pushed their VTOLs harder than was rational, and arrived in half the time. Thankfully the crew of the Nemesis worked fast, and had managed to clear off before the quartet of Falcons swept over the deck, coming in hot. As the VTOLs landed they were quickly swarmed by ship’s crew, opening the canopies of the VTOLs, and pushing them onto the elevators as the pilots climbed out. As pilot and craft went separate ways, the leading pilot, and the smallest of the bunch walked into the tower. She moved briskly, saluting Naval Infantrymen and ship’s crewmembers on the move as she made way to the control room. On deck, Saez was waiting, pacing nervously, as she walked on deck, before stopping at a salute.

“Flight Commander Valdez, your report. Is the drop zone secure”?

Main Hull, Briefing Room
14. October. 2066/16
12:30 Hours

On the platform in front of the aligned chairs of the briefing room, stood two. Most prominent was Saez in his grey StateSec uniform, which he wore with head uncovered, showing a man in his middle forties with a well trimmed goatee and slicked back hair, both of which were black, but now starting to go grey. To his left was a similarly aged gentleman in the Dress Blacks of a Commonwealth Navy Commander. His name badge bore the words Cortéz. Saez was pacing as he started to speak to the empty room, which was set up to handle the officers and NCOs of two entire battalions of Air Assault troops, but was now holding only a handful of special operators.

“Good afternoon ATLAS Operators. You’re here, because ATLAS’ expertise has been sought out by the Commonwealth, and by Isla Plata for a special mission, one which will require the utmost discretion”. Saez pulled his right sleeve open a little bit and tapped a small watch like object on his wrist, popping open a small display after some fiddling, which then transferred the image onto the wall blown up for the operators to see. The image displayed a stylized white palm on a background of black.

“The Silver Hand has been a thorn in the side of the government of Isla Plata for some time. Quite simply, they are an insurgent organization, that was formed by officials from the previous government. They wish to overthrow the government and reinstall an ‘independent’”, there was something off about Saez’s use of the word independent, but it was quite hard to tell what the offness was.

“Platan government and they’re not above using terrorist methods to achieve this aim. Recently, they’ve taken up enslaving Platan citizens to exchange for weapons to fuel their efforts. The Isla Plata Government has asked for foreign help to put a stop to one of these operations, which they themselves are currently unable to do. Your mission in short, is to put a stop this exchange”. Saez stopped pacing momentarily. Making a hand motion to Commander Cortéz.

“Commander Cortéz will give you the tactical details”. Cortéz stepped up, as the screen’s image changed to a series of satellite pictures lined up to appear as a single larger, picture. It was of a small city, surrounded by thick tropical vegetation on one side, and a bay on the other. Lining the water’s edge was a series of docks, joined by a large, maze like network of shipping containers.

“This is Punto Caballo Blanco.”, said Commander Cortéz. A red circle was drawn, outlining a section of the dockyard, relatively close to the Western edge of the city, and the focus zoomed into that particular part of the map. The Commander pulled out a laser pointer, marking spots as he went.

“This is where we believe the exchange can take place. As you can see, it is relatively isolated from the rest of the dockyard, low visibility from the outside, and suited to docking smaller ships. Most importantly however, is that it is the section adjacent to the narrowest point between the dockyard and the surrounding jungles”. The map changed perspective slightly, shifting to the west. A barely perceptible fence and a ran the length of the border between complex and the surrounding city. A small guard station flanked the road running from the surrounding jungle, through the city, and into the complex.

“The Silver Hand will likely use this route, as it is the shortest between cover and the complex, and has the smallest guard station. We believe that they may have bribed the guards to be elsewhere at the time, or to let them occupy the Western part of the port. Because of this you are to assume any persons still at the docks at the time of the operation to be hostile” The map zoomed back out and a circle appeared over a clearing near the western edge of the city, as did a line leading to it from off the map.

“Transport should infiltrate you along this route, to this clearing in order to avoid detection by the radar onboard the hostile cargo ship. Once on the ground stay low, and stay quiet. We have no idea if any of the locals are informing the Silver Hand, so contact with any persons other than fellow operators until you reach the facility is to be discouraged”. The map shifted back to its original position.

“Your primary objective, once you are in the facility is simple. You are to break up the trade, confiscate and destroy the weapons, and liberate the slaves. Once you have secured the contraband. You are to mark the ship so that air support will be able to target it for destruction”. The commander walked to the back of the stage, picking up a briefcase, bringing it back forward as the image on the screen changed to the layout of a ship’s bridge.

“To do this,” he opened up the briefcase to show a number of small, round devices, “you are to take these beacons and install them on the navigational system,” a circle appeared over one of the consoles; then the image changed to a closeup of the console, a circle appeared over one of the data ports. “by placing the beacon into this port, which our intelligence reports say is here”. The screen changed once more, showing a series of pictures. The subject was an older man in a fairly ostentatious uniform, then in a much simpler uniform. The man appeared to be in his early fifties with a greying beard, and salt and pepper hair. He appeared dried out, with deep wrinkles marking his face like a jigsaw puzzle.

“This man is General Alejandro Colón. He is a former general in the Platan Army, and one of the highest ranking members of the Silver Hand. He is overseeing the exchange for reasons unknown. He is to be taken alive if at all possible, and turned over to Saez here, for questioning. We believe he is privy to significant amounts of information that will help us and our Platan allies combat the Silver Hand”. The image changed again showing another man, younger, likely in his late thirties or early forties with brown hair worn in a buzzcut, and penetrating grey eyes.

“This is Roberto Manuel García, an infamous black marketeer and slaver. He is a former special forces operator from the Commonwealth, turned traitor. Saez informs me that his continued existence is deemed too great an embarrassment to the Commonwealth to be allowed. He is to be executed”. The screen changed once again showing a little over a dozen different persons, generally profile shots. “These are members of his personal security, they too, are too dangerous to be left alive, and are to be disposed of with lethal force. As for any other hostiles you may encounter, I leave the discretion to the operators.

“It is important to note however, that stealth will be key to this operation. García has proven himself very good at escaping justice, and once the alarm is raised we suspect he will evacuate the port within fifteen to thirty minutes. If he does, his ship will be intercepted and destroyed by the Nemesis to prevent his escape. This must be avoided if at all possible, as the destruction of a ‘civilian’ ship by Commonwealther Naval forces, will be a great propaganda victory for the Silver Hand, and will constitute mission failure”.

“We know little of the OpFor presence. The local Silver Hand presence could be anything from a dozen, to nearly one hundred. The Silver Hand is primarily a guerrilla organization, but they do have a number of highly skilled soldiers in the form of former army personnel and including ex-members of the ‘Republican Guard’. They will likely be equipped primarily with low grade small arms, but may be in possession of better hardware up to and including a light armored vehicle. To make it brief, while we assume the Silver Hand will be lightly equipped, prepare for any possibility. We are concerned that they might be on high alert tonight as earlier this morning the Fourteenth Air Assault regiment encountered a Silver Hand patrol, and while they were neutralized we are concerned that they may have reported back, and put the Silver Hand on alert. As for García and his personal security. They are all highly trained, most are ex-special forces members. They will all be equipped with the best hardware that García can get his hands on. Expect high grade small arms, body armor, and heavy weapons. García’s ship crew on the other hand is another wild card, we suspect that there are a dozen crew members, though their training, and whether they armed is unknown at this time”.

“Though we cannot directly participate in the operation, the Commonwealth will be supporting you from the Nemesis. You will be working closely with the Second Battalion of the Fourteenth Air Assault, who will be present for dust up operations. The remainder of the Fourteenth is committed elsewhere on a mission to suppress the Silver Hand, and hopefully to provide a distraction from your operation. The Nemesis is technically available for fire support, but only under the most dire of circumstances. Lastly we will be providing aerial reconnaissance updates to the best of our abilities. Are there any questions before we dismiss”?

Jungles of Southern Isla Plata
Búnker Comando Sud de Los Manos Platos
Interior
14. October. 2066/16
11:45 Hours

The “bunker” that the local Silver Hand was headquartered in was dingy and poorly lit, with very few light fixtures hanging from the largely dirt and wood framework. Thin looking men walked around the halls, on guard, caring for their weapons, preparing for a patrol, or simply cooling off with their fellow guerillas. Though they looked impoverished, the men in the bunker were not in low spirits. A particularly small gentleman, probably about fourteen years of age was moving rapidly through the bunker, his clothing covered in dirt and dried blood, the only thing marking him as Silver Hand was the small armband he wore over his clothing, a rather beat up looking AR-15 was slung over his shoulder, and a very concerned look was on his face. For the most part, the guards left the boy soldier alone. As he approached a rather out of place looking steel door however, a guard in an worn looking military uniform raised his hand outward in a halting motion, the other going for his own slung weapon, an FS-13, the native reproduction of an Aug, in clearly better maintenance then the boy’s weapon.

¡“Halto”! ”Halt”!The boy soldier stopped, as the guard at the door approached, looming over him. The boy soldier noticed three scars over much of the guard’s face, claw marks of some kind.

“Declara su objetivo”. ”State your business”. The boy soldier paused, somewhat intimidated by this larger scarred individual stand over him, now with a weapon drawn. He could see the coldness in the guard’s eye, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Tengo una reporte por el Comandante”. ”I have a report for the Commander”. The guard leaned back a little, re-slinging his weapon, and using a free hand to reach for whatever report the boy soldier had.

“Tomaro el mensaje”. ”I’ll take the message”. The boy soldier shook his head. The guard’s brow, to an extent allowed by the scar tissue, furrowed, demonstrating his displeasure at the situation. Another, older man approached the scene from behind, bearing some insignia of rank.

“Esto chico necesita una audiencia con el Comandante soldado. Le haga un lado”. “This boy needs to see the Commander soldier. Step aside”. The guard, obligingly allowed the boy soldier to step through the metal door.

Inside were fairly few individuals, a couple of guards, three or four individuals in street clothing at working on ramshackle computer setups, powered by some means that the boy soldier could not see, and a half dozen men in military uniforms, standing over a beaten up table covered in maps and other written pieces of work. The room itself was in much better shape than the rest of the bunker, actually having reinforced walls and adequate lighting. As if this were itself part of an actual bunker instead of a tunnel network. The commanders were discussing the ongoing raid on a collective farming community not far to the north when the boy soldier came into the room. The Commander, General Alejandro Colón noticed the boy soldier, and addressed him.

“Chico. ¿Su reporte”? ”Boy, your report”? The boy stuttered at first in his response.

“Manucomunidadores emboscó a la patrulla del Punto en este mañana. Soy el sobreviviente final”. ”Commonwealthers ambushed our patrol for el Punto this morning. I’m the sole survivor”. The General paused at this information, the expression on his face turned from stressed optimism to great concern.

¿”Manucomunidadores? ¿Usted seguro? ¿Podían soldados gobiernos”? ”Commonwealthers? Are you sure? Couldn’t they have been government troops”? The boy soldier stared down at his feet.

“Comandante... son chaquetas negras”. ”Commander... they were black jackets”.

“Mierde... coronado termine su ataque en el finca colectivo. Tenemos que defendernos bases y la intercambia. Los manucomindadores no pueden escuchar nos planes”. ”Shit... Colonel, end your attack on the collective farm. We need to defend our bases and the exchange. The Commonwealthers cannot find out about our plans”. One of the lower ranking officers nodded to the affirmative making eye contact with another individual who pulled out a burner phone to make a call.

[Anowa]

Anowan Detachment-17, Squad Glacier
2LT Martinson
WO Morgan
WO Grayson
MCPL Ford

Martinson had mixed feelings about Task Force Atlas. On one hand, they'd gotten their shit pushed in less not too long ago, and they had been sent to 'protect Anowan interest' along with a fucking Headhunter. He was just happy that the apathetic spook wasn't assigned to his team, that would only end in disaster. But on the other hand the Task Force might be what D-17 needed to get their funding back.

Or at least it would be if they hadn't been assigned a stealth operation. While fully capable of operations like that, it wasn't what they trained extensively in. Their frames only made a gentle whirring that would more than likely be covered up by the waves, but the M60s that Grayson and Ford had would be reasonably loud, even with a suppressor on. All things considered this was the best conditions they'd ever have for a stealth operation.

No hands were raised and no questions were posed from the Anowan nationals, the plan was straightforward, subtley kill everything that moves but one General Alejandro Colón. It was as easy as it could get.

[ISAF-Usea]

ONBOARD THE NEMESIS

The Erusean BlackJacks sat in the back silently, listening intently to every detail. They've dealt with domestic terror threats before, and the BJs themselves were created for that back when pirates existed. "Sounds too simple." Said Voycheck to himself. "Almost like this is gonna go downhill faster than a wooden cart race as soon as we attempt to do something inside the compound." "And I have questions just to solve that." Said Trevor as he raised his hand. "Oh gosh no Trev..." Said Ishmael as he buried his head in his hands in embarrassment, knowing what was coming next. "So, to start off, do we have any way of jamming radar capabilities? If these guys have radar it certainly must be weak and easily jammable by any sort of anti-radar equipment. Second, why can't we keep the weapons? They're probably in good condition and any army would appreciate a few new guns. Hell, Usea would take them and arm our guys down in Baria that desperately need rearmament. Back during the Firestorm Crisis we took the guns from dead insurgents and used them for our own army. Third, will we be sweeping the ship for intel before we destroy it? We would certainly hate it if valuable intel on the bastards went down. Fourth, why do we have to destroy it? It's like the weapons, the ship is perfectly fine and can be used by the locals for trade. Fifth..." Trevor said once he was called on, as he paused he pulled out his bowie knife and balaclava, holding them up. "About that dude we need to kill, how about we make an example of him and his boys and film them being killed? It'd be a great scare tactic for any other damnable terrorist that wants to fuck with this country." Trevor put back his bowie knife and balaclava. "Finally, what type of transport are we using to get from point A to point B?" Trevor finally asked, finishing his hailstorm of questions. Trevor intently waited for answers.

[Vangaziland]

The Vannish team, a part of VSF-1, the Cobra Commandos, sat in the briefing room. As they listened to the briefing they all had small notebooks out. Not only were they writing the details, they were making notes of their load outs and other useful items.

Independently, they all made a note on stealth. Clearly they would be bringing silencers with their rifles. The Cobras were a three man team. There was SFC Peter Farnsen, SFC Mark Emerazi and the spook from Vannish Intelligence, Donald Frazor.

It sounded pretty straightforward to the 3 Vangazi. Frazor was highly concerned, as his furrowed brows may have shown. It sounded like they could possibly be heavily outnumbered. He made a note to observe and keep things cool. If there were a hundred enemies, these 3 or 4 teams from Atlas would have a serious problem on their hands. They would need force multipliers. It sounded like support was at a bare minimum, basically nonexistent. This isn't the way the Vangazi would have done this operation.

But it was not impossible. Stealth would be the key, so would speed and violence of action. Once things got hot, they would have a limited time to act. One of the other team's soldiers asked a whole plethora of questions. The Cobras listened intently to the response.

Frazor thought he should respond to one question because it confused him. "Our goal is to get to that boat before it leaves right? That's what I thought I heard. If it comes down to sinking the boat, that's because it escaped us... HE escaped us. It's being destroyed as a last resort in that scenario. So if things go to plan, we will gather Intel and the boat will stay afloat. If it leaves port, it will be pretty hard for us to gather Intel.... No?"

Frazor wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page. "And if you want to videotape the assassination, the Vangazi will not be on camera. That is not our way. Our bullets will speak for themselves."

The question about jammers was a good one, but certain technologies would have to be involved. A jammer is not some little thing you can put in a backpack and run around with. Maybe the vehicle could carry one. Maybe a certain aircraft could jam radar or even better yet bomb the radar site.

It depended on their method of infil. Radar would spot any aircraft they arrived in, but other than that it shouldn't come into effect. If the VTOLs flew low enough, they could probably avoid radar. Maybe they would have to hike inland and not land too closely. Radar cannot detect dismounted soldiers. It would also be unusual for radar to search for ground vehicles as it is usually aimed towards the sky.

Emerazi and Farnsen took their notes and began to mentally prepare for the mission. It was all for a good cause. Hopefully they could free some slaves and take out a couple of "bad hombres".

[ISAF-Usea]

Trevor intently listened to the response from the Vangazis. "Oh yeah, I must've missed that part, duh. That makes more sense." Replied Trevor, hitting his forehead lightly with his palm, a usual way of showing that he made a stupid mistake. "And don't worry, anyone that doesn't want to be in the film doesn't have to be in it. Back during the Firestorm Crisis we made examples of the leaders who organized the attack on Usea by filming them being executed. It seems to have worked. Funny how when you reverse roles you get a more lasting effect." Said Trevor once more. "Buuuut if we don't want to film them then I'm fine with that. I'm not gonna argue with that since we can still send messages in different, less brutal ways." Explained Trevor. "Yeah, like leaving one survivor." Said Voycheck. "Remember back in that one country with the civil war?" "Donnerland?" "No the other one, I can't remember the name." Said Voycheck, snapping his fingers while trying to remember. "Anyway, back in that country the ISAF Falcons went in to test a water chemical on a water plant since an allied country needed a riot started so that they could move their forces into the town with little resistance. But when they got there, there was a whole detachment of soldiers at the water plant. The Falcons easily blew through them with stealth, but decided to leave one survivor because the troops has committed some very serious crimes against humanity. So when civilians or soldiers or whoever came by the plant to see what happened, there would be a message there in the form of a person." Explained Voycheck. "Oh yeah, I remember that too. It was a good psychological strategy." Said Ishamel. "Yeah, no dip." Replied Roy Ray.

[Post War America]

La Republica Socialista de Isla Plata
Sea of Verde
CNS Nemesis
[u]Main Hull, Briefing Room
14. October. 2066/16
12:30 Hours

Commander Cortéz, listened briefly to the questions posited by a presumably inexperienced Usean operator. Some of them were valid questions, others seemed foolish. Much to his appreciation, one of the operators from Vangaziland answered many of the questions for him. This made his job easier at least somewhat, though the Vangazis did have some misconceptions. Commander Cortéz, once he had allowed the conversation to go on long enough for his liking did finally step in to answer the questions that remained unanswered.

“Firstly, we are currently working on a means of jamming their radar capability. It has been a pressing issue since Nemesis arrived in theater”. He cleared his throat briefly before continuing. “We have a little eye in the air attempting different jamming patterns that may stop their radar without arousing too much suspicion. Once we do have a jamming sequence set up our support availability will be better, we will keep you posted. As for the second question, you are officially required to destroy the weapons. In other words, the Commonwealth officially speaking cannot come into possession of them. If however, some were to disappear we would in all likelihood be unaware of the situation, so long as the cannot fall into Silver hands we are not particularly concerned”. He paused, making sure there no sudden questions before he started speaking again.

“To address your third concern, you will be sweeping the ship for intelligence as you clear it out. Any hard intelligence you do find you are to turn into Saez. The ship is to be destroyed once it is cleared because of the high probability that it is heavily modified to be a smuggling vessel. The potential for a Silver Hand sympathizer to purchase it and use it to smuggle more weapons for the Silver Hand’s usage is too significant to risk it remaining usable at the current time. However, since you have brought it up I will ask Saez to speak with the Platan government. If they are willing to keep the ship afloat so are we”.

“If you do wish to film the execution of the people we wish to see dead we will require two things. Firstly, Commonwealthers cannot be seen as involved in the process. Secondly, due to the needs of operational security, you will have to turn any video recordings in to Saez for viewership, and if needs be editing before it can be released”.

“Lastly, transport, if needed can be provided by the air assault assets aboard this ship. All teams currently on deck can be transported with a single UV-24 Swiftfox aircraft. If the operators assembled have not arranged for their own airborne transport”. Commander Cortéz paused. “If there are no further questions, we are dismissed.

Sea of Verde
La Rosalíneamera
Interior
14. October. 2066/16
13:45 Hours

Rosalíneamera was an older ship, at least on the outside. The small Verdean container ship was starting to have rust run throughout the exterior hull. The paint was chipping away in many places. After a fashion, it appeared as an unexceptional small container ship used by many of the poorer shipping companies in the Verdean archipelago. The only thing that was unusual, the name, Rosalíneamera, was evocative of the glory days of the Second Verdean Empire, not necessarily something endorsed by most of the governments of the archipelago since the end of the 20th century, and the herculean decolonization efforts against the Capisarians.

The insides of the ship were a much different story however. There was little in the way of wear and tear inside, much of the vessel looked as new, and even included some very modern Commonwealther technological conveniences. Small robots moved about the corridors, acting as message bearers for the various crew members, and carrying some loads. The bridge was the only part of the ship that looked slightly in line with the rest of the ship, and even that had some obvious modern technologies, in addition to the less obvious chip upgrades in the electronics. Roberto García was standing at the captain’s station, his presence ensuring some kind of discipline on deck. A young woman with an imposing physique, and blond hair tied back into a ponytail walked up behind García and saluted before speaking up.

“Captain, we are nearing the port”. García turned around and reciprocated the woman’s salute.

“Ah, Ms. DeVries is there anything further to report”. DeVries stood at ease.

“Captain, the Nemesis is in theater. Further General Colón reports that his men are under attack by Commonwealther soldiers”.

“That is troublesome, but it sounds like another counterinsurgency operation don’t you think”?

“Colón has said that the Commonwealthers seem to know where their outlying bases are. They could be tracking them on radar, which would lead them straight to us.r”. García smiled a little. He knew Commonwealther tactics all too well. When fighting an insurgency They would frequently attempt to bait out the commanders by attacking outlying positions in an attempt to scare the commanders into fleeing, which they would then track and destroy, both the main base, but also the command staff, in essence wiping them out. At the moment DeVries was pointing nothing out that was concerning to him. But she was ever the cautious one, and he thought it might be best to do something to put her nerves at ease, lest the inevitable ‘I told you so’ moment came.

“Very well. See to it that we get guns on deck as we pull into port. Make sure the security team is armed for heavy combat. We may have to fight our way out of the situation again”. They had done this little dance with the Commonwealth many many times before. Proletarian Guardsmen would move in on his deals, shoot up the place and force him to evacuate to his ship. They always were just a little bit too late as he made his escape. He was concerned however about that new Commonwealther ship, the Nemesis. He left service of the corrupt Commonwealthers just as they were beginning work on it. It was said to be a ship designed to hunt down and destroy Imerian Fasans and Lyran Longswords, such a vessel if it so wanted could in all likelihood blow Rosalíneamera, and every other ship like her out of the water without expending half of its ordinance. He was however unconcerned as the Commmonwealthers firstly only doubtfully knew this ship was the Rosalíneamera, and secondly were in too weak a political situation on Isla Plata to be able to afford to fire on a “civilian” vessel. Discretion was however the better part of valor, and before deVries turned to carry out his order, he stopped her.

“Make sure we are prepared for every circumstance”. He said, knowing that DeVries would understand his exact message.