Operation: Stone Vigil (Alitheia Only|Unit-50 IC)

[Anowa]

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_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
Unit XO
Tsavo Air Force Base, Kubati
Anowa}

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_{03/16/2019 - 4:10 AM AST}

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It didn't take a doctor to realize that a few of the people present weren't wholly there. It was 4 in the morning, and while Ingrid only needed some 2 hours to be functional, the rest of those assembled were actually human to a degree that didn't have a small religious cult following.

The lights were off and the sun hadn't risen yet, the only light in the room coming from the projector.

Once everyone who was supposed to partake in this operation seemed to settle down, she started, "Right." a click, "This is where we're heading in the next 24 hours." the image that appeared was starch white, if one looked close enough the sight of pine trees and rocks could be discerned, "This is the Dytalov Pass in eastern Liverpool, an old border crossing and mining town on the Grunalian and Liverpudlian border. The mine dried up in 1899, and the last inhabitant bailed in 1947, so the only upkeep it's had is a member of the Liverpudlian Ministry of Natural Resources checking to see if the mine's collapsed yet. Speaking of,"

Another click showed a rather dated photo of the mine entrance itself, "This is the mine entrance, roughly 800 metric tons of silver came out of this mine over a 20 year period, after which a dry spot spelled it's doom."

Another click, this time of an overlaid drawing on top of the first image, providing much more context, "Now, why we're here is because back in September, Anowan SF managed to pursue known Dolus personnel to the border pass previously mentioned, but due to international boundaries and lack of communications, we didn't pursue." a pause, "In fact, it was only two days ago in which we'd gotten permission to cross said border."

"Now, we don't exactly know if Dolus set up camp here or if it was just coincidental, but we do have a job to do. We'll be deploying from a pair of H-12s into the mouth of the Pass. From there we'll be splitting into two teams, The Donnish, Nornsmarker, and GRCS operatives will be heading into the town and ensuring there is nothing of worry with myself leading. Main goal here is to confirm an OPFOR presence."

"Other team will be heading into the mines with Mastyer Chief Pirozzi and Sergeant Bjorklund to, again, confirm or deny OPFOR presence. Consisting of the Vacifian, Esgonian, and Ophirican operators. Do note that using explosive may collapse the mine, or cause an avalanche so try to avoid that."

Another click revealed a picture of people in the mountains, "Furthermore, there's also the locals to worry about. The Troggies here are generally speaking not looking for a fight, but they are usually armed due to the predators in the are and the fact they're usually farmers or hunters of some sort. As such rules of engagement are not to fire unless fired upon, even if they're visibly armed."

"Environment as you can see is gonna be cold, -27 degrees celsius, Humidity is 37% so expect a rather light sprinkling of snowfall, almost no wind seeing as it's nestled in a small valley, atmospheric pressure is .6 atmospheres due to it's altitude, so those marksmen among us take account for that. I know the lot of you are probably just fucked for sleep, so I'll be taking questions now, and going over this again on the flight over."

[Ophiri Coalition]

UNIS Cerberus Squad
_______
Tsavo Air Force Base, Kubati, Anowa
3/16/19


Fahrid 'Clown' al-Hemar donned a look of confusion when they were shown the entrance of the mine. That was unlike the modern mines of Ophir and other countries, a relic abandoned in preference of more convenient methods. Shit only got worse when the boss mentioned the weather. -27 fucking Celsius? Now that was unlike anything in Ophir with most of the operator's homeland being dry grasslands or deserts. A hundred plus year-old mine that had been subjected to the weather for the entirety of its existence. If there were bad guys in there, they'd have to be batshit insane. al-Hemar nudged the operator besides him, ready to bitch about their assignment.

Hamisi 'Scarab' Dehedar clenched his fist and elbowed the younger operator in the gut, maintaining eye contact with the speaker and remaining as subtle as he could be. Clown had only been around for three operations, two of which had gone to shit. And without Ansewhali or El Khouri, the two veteran operators, Dehedar thought himself to be the baby sitter. Fahrid bit his lip and turned his head, but not his attention, back to the XO.

Dehedar had been sent on the mission to deal with any potential biohazard or explosives in the AO, which was an important job considering a detonation would send the mind tumbling down into the town alongside thousands of pounds of snow. Although he wasn't willing to complain there was something churning in his stomach that made him wonder if the enemy had thought of doing that. After all the ghost town seemed to be the more likely hideout, and if there was something down there that needn't be compromised the enemy could use an avalanche as an oh-shit move. The good news about being assigned to a mine was the fact that civilian casualties were pretty much a no-go in there.

Once the commander had finished her briefing the sergeant turned to the youngest operator. "One wrong step and you can collapse the mine. Don't be a dumbass."

[Nornsmark]

Taktikerafsnit "Kaffehaus" | Tactical Team "Coffeehouse"

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Tsavo AFB, Kubati, Anowa
16.3.19

Ragnar Krossenov sipped at the pleasantly chilled energy drink. He'd adapted far quicker than he anticipated to Kubati's climate than Sigrun, and for that he was eternally grateful. He was however, less pleased about today's early start. He understood the necessity of course, and in fact was quite pleased that he and Sigrun had been selected to participate in the operation proper considering the comparatively meager personnel and support offered by Nornsmark to the unit.

Krossenov and Sigrun, he knew, were not intended to be of any real use in Unit-50. Nornsmarker General Staff initially had approached the invitation with disdain, intent on maintaining their carefully balanced neutrality and ever-present defensive contingencies. The Kasrïn held different beliefs.

Brynhildr III was an outed member of the growing United Trade Party, which had split from the more traditional Crown Party. The Crowns, composed primarily of elderly and middle aged citizens, nobles, and rural Lowlander communities held to the status quo which had been born out of the Great Defense nearly eighty years ago. While the Crowns were positively centrist compared to some of the other parties that held sway in their demographics, they were staunchly neutralist. In the almost seven decades in which they held political dominance in the parliament, they had launched exactly zero international initiatives, joint exercises or dispatched aid.

This did not sit well with the Traders, the Progressives or the Guards. The Progressives wished to end Nornsmark's self-imposed diplomatic exile, the Guards wished to intervene in several hot-spots around the world that threatened escalation before fighting could come once again to the homeland; and the Traders wished to deregulate trade with most of Helsa, returning to the days of Nornsmark's dominant market position in Central Helsa. Nine years ago, the three parties had formed a coalition and successfully took a parliamentary majority by eighteen seats. Granted, the Guards left the coalition after the next election several years later, but the coalition maintained a safe thirteen seat lead.

When Unit-50 was announced and an invitation extended to Nornsmark, the Kasrïn saw an opportunity. After a week of bitter debate between her and the General Staff and a single duel, Staff conceded to send a single Kopfjaegr detachment. Among the dozen-or-so Kopfjaegr teams, only one was considered appropriately 'expendable.' Taktikerafsnit "Kaffehaus" was composed of Ragnar Krossenov who was reaching retirement age, and Sigrun Wald who was considered a liability due to her lackadaisical personality and extreme aggressiveness. So, General Staff sent them on their way.

And so here Ragnar Krossenov was. He sipped again, and set the glass down beside his chair. And as luck would have it, that was their next destination. The briefing began as one of the two post-humans in the unit, the Anowan one, Ingrid Grimsdottir, an... Olympian? Or was it Immortal? No, the Immortal was Remnant. That's right.

Sigrun sat next to him, idly assembling and disassembling a ballpoint pen. If she was paying attention he couldn't tell, so he produced his notepad. He always gave her his notes before an op. She said they were better than most briefings but he doubted that. Besides, there'd be an inflight review as well. She'd get the information one way or another.

He took notes as the briefing progressed. Dytalov Pass, Liverpool right next to the Grunalian border. Forested, mountainous valley. Thirty degrees below freezing, just over half an atmo. Light snow, no wind. A half-grin formed, just like home, he thought. Small mining town, armed civilian populous. Return fire when fired upon. Suspected but not confirmed opfor presence. Helicopter deployment. Typical reconnaissance in force operation.

He returned the pen to his breast pocket. He had thought of a couple questions during his habitual-note taking. He handed Sigrun the notepad, then raised his hand halfway and switched mental gears into his admittedly subpar Trade. He hated speaking Trade, if only because he was exceptionally conscious of his accent. It was heavy, even for a Highlander. Most of his peers--Sigrun included--could speak with little to no accent. It maddened him to no end, and many sleepless flights had been occupied with phrasebooks and language learning apps on his PDA. "How long is the operation expected to last, Commander Grimsdottir, and can we expect the helicopters to maintain orbit for fire support?"

[Vacif]

Warrant Officer Bo Khin Zaw Myine
Stalker Special Observations Group - 3rd Element
Tsavo Air Force Base, Kubati
03/16/2019 - 4:10 AM AST

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Less than four days since arriving and they'd gotten their first mission. Not bad considering they were going up against a dangerous black ops unit who's capabilities, and numbers were complete unknowns. Now if that deployment only went somewhere warm. Apparently they were going back to Grunalia. The entire team were all on the same page about the cold. They could do it, but it was far from their first pick. The good thing about operating under the Special Warfare Division was that they had operational priority, which meant they got first pick for all their gear. Unfortunately no amount of equipment would change what they're comfortable with.

Their mission was 'simple', search the mines for an enemy presence. With so many passages, it kind of was the perfect place to hide something like a nuclear device. Distance wise it would probably make for a convenient storage place for their missing nuke. The blacksite it came from was in Grunalia, and this was right on the border. They could be fighting hostile agents in close quarters battle, in tunnels no doubt so they'd need to be careful. Luckily they knew a thing or two about fighting inside of tunnels and mountains. This honestly was probably better for them as they wouldn't need to be trudging through the snow. Now the tricky part would be deciding what to bring with them. If they were fighting some Anowan Spec Ops, they were probably rocking KITE armour which would be ab absolute bitch to fight against, but they also didn't want to risk a cave in, death by over pressure, or permanent tinnitus. On the other hand there was the very real possibility that any would-be hostiles were long gone by now. While he enjoyed not being shot at, he sincerely hoped this wouldn't be a bust. The thing that made the Warrant Officer the most worried wasn't that the enemy had a set of nuclear arms, or that perhaps their allies weren't the most dedicated, but that they knew nothing on the enemy. Simply the unknown. The thing that man arguably fears the most.

Well if they were looking for evidence of the Dolus in the mines, they'd probably be looking for any kind of radioactive signature, so a Geiger counter was kind of a must. Without any clue of what they were looking for, they'd bring a little bit of everything. Chemical vapour analyzers, odour analyzers, black lights, and about anything else you'd find on a CSI kit. Never knew if they could come up with any shred of DNA that could assist with finding out anything on Dolus activity or who was in their ranks. The cold would probably help with preserving their signature if any. Hopefully the place wasn't rigged to blow.

The three of them had been a team since as long as he cared to remember, and he'd like to keep it that way. They were a bit sleep deprived but when the time came they'd be ready. They'd ask their questions later, but for now, he needed to take five.

[Anowa]

"How long is the operation expected to last, Commander Grimsdottir, and can we expect the helicopters to maintain orbit for fire support?"

Grimsdottir shrugged, "Unfortunately, we don't know. The location is known for it's rather rapid shift in weather conditions. Could last an hour in best conditions, could last a day while we hike down the mountain. As such you should all be prepared for an extended visit. Correlating with that, due to it's altitude being less than 300 meters from the H-12's hover service ceiling it can't stick around for long. Our extraction is actually gonna be nearly 1800 meters away so it can pick us up. So that's that answered. Furthermore, the mines themselves werten't mapped, it closed down before that actually became common practice, so bring as many Hansel and Gretel treats as you wish."

A pause, "No one else?" silence, "Right, in that case, get your shit in gear and dress warm, because I sure as fuck am not carrying anyone down a mountain."

---

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_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
XO
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

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_{03/16/2019 - 11:48 PM AST}

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The deployment process was a long one, loaded into a K-44D, flying for 17 hours, landing in an Air Base which still hadn't repaired fully from it's multitude of sieges during the early stages of Grunalia's civil war, spending a further 2 hours in a helicopter flying nap of the earth until the border, and now being cold as all fuck.

During that time, she'd gone over the briefing twice, once in the plane, and had only just finished the second and final recital over comms.

A voice from the cockpit called out, "Commander! Drop in 40!"

She chinned her mic, speaking over comms once again, "Alright, we're down in 35, make last checks."

With that, Grimsdottir stood, to the best of her ability, and walked to the rear ramp of the helo as it slowly lowered revealing more landscape. At her feet was a duo of ropes slung to the top of the cabin near her head. As the craft came to a hover, she tossed both out, "Let's go!"

She was first down, taking a knee in the night, white uniform with bandages and white tape wrapped around her rifle to conceal it in the snow. Soon after everyone from both the first and second helos had roped down. Less than 40 seconds later, the two helos had departed into the night and the snow had settled.

The wedge shaped faceplate of Grimsdottir's helmet popped up as she looked round for a moment, looking at... something in the distance. A mild glow, not unlike that of a blacklight, though unlike a normal bulb it was that of thin and mildly tangled wires. "There's a telecomms satellite dish in the town. Guess we're going there first." keying in her mic she spoke over the radio. "Alright people, operation is a go. When you get to the cave, keep in mind radio can't get through rock so please let the town team know before you enter. Over."

Bjorklund spoke up, "Hey, commander. Not to sound insubordinate, but how the fuck do you know there's a telecomms station? It's nearly blacked out."

Grimsdottir shrugged, "I can see in the dark... Also your IR strobe's on." The tall woman slid the faceplate back into it's place, before giving everyone the hand signal to move out.

Bjorklund looked at the IR strobe on his chest, rather quickly slipping it's cover back on, suspiciously casting a glance at his CO as her and the Town team moved out to their objective. Both confused and somewhat amazed by such a revelation. He shook his head, before setting out with the Mine Team.

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MINE TEAM

Enzo Pirozzi knew a lot of things, had done a lot of things, and despite it all he never really saw himself as a skeptic. Being part of organized crime for a while, and then being on the opposite side of the tracks gave him a bit of insight into people, how they acted and how they moved and conducted themselves in the company of others could give clues as to who they were underneath. As they arrived at the mine entrance, some 200 meters away from their landing zone, Enzo peered into the darkness, flipping his FLIR in front of the faceplate he wore.

To his right, he heard just enough to make a basis for his teammate's sanity.

Bjorklund's statement was simple, but told enough, "Nice!"

It wasn't said in a way that implied sarcasm, or vitriole, or anything but an actual meaning of the word. The man liked that he was about to walk into a potentially unsound cave system that may as well have been a labyrinth. Whoever the fuck thought it was a good idea to make an underground fucking maze and not make an obvious way out should be shot. Even if they'd already died of natural causes.

As Enzo stared at Bjorklund, the shorter of the two over eagerly moved into the cave itself. Weapon at the ready. The Italic just shook his head and followed, "God, please don't fuck me today."

---

TOWN TEAM

Wading through snow was usually a difficult endeavour, but for Ingrid, it wasn't all to difficult. Ignoring her stride itself, the snow drift only came midway up her calves instead of to the knees, like almost everyone else with her.

As they moved towards the town, Ingrid called for a looser spread, 3 meters. Typical for an operation like this, but overall, generally a safe move to remind everyone.

As she and the team rolled up over a small grove overlooking a good portion of the worn down town, there was a rather tall tower in sight. No lights, a dilapidated windmill hanging on to it's side, and judging by it's sway it was old. But the dish on top of it wasn't, in fact, it was contrasted immensely by the wooden tower.

Grimsdottir spoke over local comms, "Coffeehouse, you two stay on this ridge and provide North-South Overwatch, let me know if anyone enters of exits the building at the center of town near the tower. Stag, you'll be circling around the east side of the town, clearing it from the outside in. Bull, you'll do the same but from the west, I'll be moving with you. Check fire and make sure what you're aiming at is a target, if I get shot by any of you, someone's getting put through a wall." The woman moved to a low walk and moved west, "Move out."

[Empire of Donner land]

Bull Team, Dytalov Pass, Liverpool

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Aureleahs "Artur" Horsahgher

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03/16/2019 - 11:48 PM

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"It's good to be so close to the God for an operation like this in the mountains, a good omen. Things should go pretty smoothly, eh Artur?" Lans said, nudging him in the shoulder. Artur only shrugged.

The Helicopter they were in was a quiet enough place for Artur to collect his thoughts on the operation at hand. Though he's been in them enough in the 2000's to be so used to the sound from within that he could sleep in one comfortable. Course, back then, he wasn't allowed to sleep for the most part. Artur was apart of a "Bad" Company, put simply a Company made of social rejects apart of the newly christened Twentieth Air Cavalry Division that later would fight in the Battle of Soraught in the Second Helsan War around two years ago.

This Companies social rejects were prisoners wanting a way out or otherwise forced, drug addicts forced to rehabilitate in "the furnace of war" and pseudo-conscripts. These pseudo-conscripts were unlucky sods that were victims of the Army's way of getting around the Constitutional Ban on Conscription, mostly by somehow forcing an unlucky someone's hand into signing a contract that would look like it was benefiting you in the long run. Usually, this was done if someone was in financial trouble. Like with a bank that was in cahoots with the Military or if one couldn't afford to continue to attend school. Tricked into signing a piece of paper that would tell them all their problems would melt away.

In truth, they were signing explicit permission to be forcefully inducted into the Military. And these now called "Virtual Bonuses" never existed, as the Military had ruled that they have no obligation if a third party promised these things, such as a bank saying they will simply ignore a loan, or effectively give them a free house.

Was this illegal? No, not yet anyway until 2010, the Military had covered all their bases and pushed the problem on these "third parties" through the frugal use of legalese. The Council asked a simple question after the war had come to an end.

"Why?"

The answer: "Why not, we won didn't we? It wasn't illegal."

The truth of the matter at the time was that the Military needed the manpower to fight even a war in its own back yard at the time, and the Council knew full well what was being done, but with the Conservatives, the leading faction at the time, they used this as a moment to let the Military grow bigger and fulfill their own wants and needs. Sure, they decried this with every fiber of their vocal cords on Public TV, on Radio and during their reelection campaigns in 2012. But inside, they knew that they had won a big victory and done things that they normally couldn't have done legally by simply "forgetting" and pretending to be too focused on the war.

Of course, this scandal was whistleblown in 2012, the same year of their Reelection by an I.T guy who downloaded a few emails. It didn't start a civil war of course, but the outcry, the wonderful outcry at the Military and Council, who had allowed a form of Conscription to just go on like that. After that, the Liberal Faction would from then on gain seats in the Council until Voy became President, but even after that to this day, they dominate it, It was almost too convenient.

Thinking about all of this, Artur couldn't help but grow a smug grin. That the fat suit wearing fucks who had thrown him into that hell hole in Eastern Donner Land was now out of power and decried by the very society they claimed they were protecting even though they had willfully allowed it to go on for nearly six years in pretending ignorance. Now he was in a better line of work, doing what he originally did best, but now with some moral high ground and with a State that supported him better than they did in the Treehouse.

Ingrid spoke again over the comms after relaying their briefing for possibly the fourth time, "Alright, we're down in 35, make last checks." Artur had probably been blanking out for an odd hour thinking about how he had gotten here before being shaken out. The Helicopter at that time had arrived at their destination, and it was noticeably colder.

Then, the ropes fell, and it was time.

One at a time, the Operators of Bull Team roped down. He went first, Si'ke was last. As Si'ke slid down, his form was off and appeared to be clinging on for dear life rather than out of discipline. As soon as he hit the ground, he fell into the snow drift, pushing himself up with his arms and knees to get out of the way of the person that was next to come down. However, the three other team members were far too busy to laugh at him, they were in the field. Si'ke brushed off the snow and rushed to formed up as everyone dismounted from the Helicopters. Soon, the Helicopters departed, and the artificial snow storm they were blowing ceased around them, nothing but the natural wind now.

The discussion sparked up, of course, but as Bull Team was rallying, one thing they overheard couldn't be ignored. That these Olympians could see into the Infrared spectrum apparently. Caduce very quickly gave a bewildered laugh and spoke in a hushed whisper, "these Olympian guys can't actually see into I.R, right? That's... stupid, right? I mean..."

Si'ke spoke up, "could just be her keeping up an act to make the Olympians look tougher than they really are. Psyops, even if we're allies you gotta keep people on their toes."

Artur rolled his eyes underneath his pair of ESS Goggles, he'd rather they not get into a shouting match with a Supersoldier over if they actually good see into a different light spectrum, and he knew Si'ke would do just that if allowed. He interjected into the debate, "Doesn't matter if she can see our fuckin' ancestors in the damn afterlife, besides, I bet she can hear us whisper from there anyway if she's so super, so I'll bet she'll give you an answer anyways. All that matters is that she's on our side, don't worry about it," and with that, the argument was effectively settled.

Before long, the teams were separated and going their own ways. One to the Town, and one to the Mine. Bull Team walked through the snow in a most likely largely different gear than the rest of those with them. Most of their gear was common clothing one could buy in a supermarket for maybe 10 Doneres on sale. Winter clothing to be sure, but out of their attire, Artur and Caduce were the only ones wearing DONPAT-W(inter) pants apart of the Donnish Uniform. For the most part, it was winter civilian wear such as winter hoodies and pants in a number of bland colors, apart from their vests, helmets, and backpacks. They'd likely get mistaken for troglodytes at a short distance if it weren't for their mil-spec gear.

The town they now set their eyes upon was definitely a mining town. Small, worn down and none of the houses were all too big relatively. He'd seen such towns back in Donner Land on occasion during his stint with the CIB. Usually, old ones that did coal or iron from the 19th Century. When Titanium was found, and the world had a use for it, there were newer towns made, and eventually, they would see the same fate once those veins eventually dried up if they couldn't find anything else to be there for.

Then the Olympian gave out orders, "Coffeehouse, you two stay on this ridge and provide North-South Overwatch, let me know if anyone enters of exits the building at the center of town near the tower. Stag, you'll be circling around the east side of the town, clearing it from the outside in. Bull, you'll do the same but from the west, I'll be moving with you. Check fire and make sure what you're aiming at is a target, if I get shot by any of you, someone's getting put through a wall. Move out." Ingrid's team then left, as did the rest of everyone else aside from the strangely named "Coffee House".

Artur whirled his finger and started a clumsy jog to the west. "Time to earn our pay, say your prayers since we're so close to the God now," Artur ordered, a half-joke and tradition whenever they were in a mountainous region.

Lans spoke up as they moved, "Why's that Amazon so afraid of friendly fire, she's in those stupid Boiler Suits isn't she?" they spoke with some less than genuine confusion.

"Why? You planning on some blue-on-blue?" Caduce replied in-between breaths of air during their jog.

"No. I'm not. I'm just jokin' man."

Some time passed as they eventually made it to the west side of town. They crouched in some leafless dead bushes just outside of what looked to be the remnants of a petrol station. Artur gave the order to start up the Drone they brought, and Lans pulled it out of his backpack with a laptop attached to an antenna. The quad-copter drone shortly whirred up and entered into the air as the rest of the team looked around them.

Artur pressed two fingers to his ear on his communications bead and reported in.

"This is Bull Team, we've arrived at the western side of town next to an abandoned petrol station. We're sending out a drone to recon the streets before we go any further in. We'll update you guys if we see anything. Out."

[The United Remnants of America]

Sergeant Niko Filipek

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Dyatov Pass, Liverpool

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3/16/2019 - 23:49

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It was dark. It was wet. It was cold. It was home.

Dyatov pass was only a few hundred kilometers from Niko's hometown of Erong in Modeno. He decided the weather he wasn't too much different than back home, even if it was slightly colder. Regardless, it beat the heat of Kubati, which was more like Canaam or Zhangua than home. He had trained in those environments, and he could tolerate them, but that didn't mean he'd ever grow accustomed to the weather in those equatorial regions.

Just like most Modenians, he had been raised on short summers and harsh winters. Shorts and tee-shirts weren't very fashionable, and coats or jackets were always in season. The standard GRCS uniforms, which had been taken from the URA and distributed to the other nations, took the cooler weather of the northern nations into account and were usually built for warmth rather than keeping the wearer cool. It was also why the standard camo pattern of the BDUs and accessories were blue-grey rather than any other color. The Remnants called it "Frost Pattern," and that fit well enough, Niko guessed.

Four members of the GRCS addition to Unit 50 had been sent to Dyatov Pass. Kaminski had stayed back in Kubati, due to his lack of direct combat experience, and Merzhad had drawn the metaphorical long straw. It was fine, the members who'd gone were all operators from their respective countries, and they were solid, rounded-out people. Except Deidre. The briefing had been short because nobody from Stag Team had any questions. It was a pretty straight-forward "fact-finding" mission to abandoned sites. Hard to really ask any questions when there was supposed to be nothing here but snow, rocks, and a town that had been left for decades. The ride here had only been interrupted for Niko by the briefing reiterations. It was also standard, by-the-book stuff for a standard, by-the-book mission.

As Stag Team rounded about the seemingly abandoned village, they spread out in a wedge formation with about two meters between them. Deidre took up the lead position. Niko was behind her on her left, while Lewis and Ruan were staggered off back to her right. Deidre's armor was apparently insulated and built to moderate internal temperature to a comfortable setting, but for some reason, Niko assumed she was bullshitting when she said that. No way did it keep her comfortable in this sleet. Even with his insulating outerwear, his neoprene gloves, snow boots, gator covering his lower face, and the night optics covering his upper face, Niko could still feel the cold, and he assumed Lewis and Ruan could, too, but he didn't ask.

They were on radio silence, moving slowly through the snow and watching for hand signals from Deidre. They were facing west, looking at the east side of the town in the grey-green washed out imagery of their optics. If they needed to signal the other teams, they'd either break radio silence or break the IR chemlights that they all kept on their rigs. There was a strobe they could activate, Niko kept his on his backpack shoulder strap, but those were all off and kept only for emergencies, air support, of exfils.

They were maybe three-hundred meters from the edge of the village when Deidre threw up her hand and dropped silently to a knee in the heavy, wet snow. The dual advantage of disadvantage of this snow was that it was effectively silent to move in since it didn't crunch. That meant they could move quietly, but so could any uninvited guests. It also meant that if an avalanche were to occur, it would be like getting hit by wet cement. Niko dropped to a knee and brought his rifle up. He glanced to his right and saw Lewis and Ruan had followed suit.

Deidre was likely scanning the village for movement with her helmet's optics or some other sci-fi shit. Niko decided he didn't really enjoy being lead around by some superhuman video game protagonist. He had to accept that everything he'd heard about her Immortals and the Anowan Olympians was accurate, but that didn't make him feel better. It made him feel somewhat small, and a bit bitter if he was honest. Where the fuck were all these supersoldiers when he was with the Modenian Army in Erong, starving and fighting Dominion fascists? If they were as special as they were supposed to be, even one unit of them could have stopped the Battle of Erong for stretching on as it did. There could have been a breakout much sooner. Maybe the Dommie bastards never would have gotten to bombing refugee centers and executing civilians. But no, they had to wait and starve and freeze and watch families get murdered until Remnant, Anowan, and Donnish regulars showed up.

Filipek blinked and tried to change the monologue of his mind. It was no use thinking like that, it just made him angry and worked up and then he'd make mistakes. Besides, if it weren't for Erong, he wouldn't have gotten that joke of a medal for "meritorious action" and gotten the option to join the Modenian Special Forces Command, and he wouldn't be here, making a real difference. Maybe there'd be some Liverpudlian fascists in this village, which would just be two birds with one stone.

Filipek glanced at Lewis and Ruan. He didn't know much about the young Nongean, who was apparently put on this team by random chance. Rumor was he was the equivalent of a "diversity hire" and had been put on this team for optics. He was by all reports a skilled operator just like anyone in the Nongean SF community, but he was just young and, in Niko's opinion, inexperienced, like most Nongeans. None of them had seen real combat in decades, whereas almost all active service Modenians had seen combat in the last twelve months. Niko was sure he was competent, but just untested.

As for Lewis, Niko had heard some stuff about that guy. He seemed quiet and kept to himself, but Niko had heard he'd been part of some bad shit a while back that had basically ended his career and lost him command of a squad of Sentinels in the Remnant military. He doubted the guy would ever open up about it. Rumors like that were only whispered in backrooms of the GRCS special forces community, and he'd only just recently learned it since he was new to the special forces community himself. He doubted it was really public knowledge, and he doubted anyone in any GRCS regular military knew any details. But it didn't shock him. He'd seen war crimes, he'd seen children put up against walls and shot by Vanquarian soldiers posing as Liverpudlians. There wasn't much Lewis could have done that would be worse, Niko was sure. The GRCS nations could never be as bad as the Dominion nations, right?

Filipek quietly flipped the safety off his G36. He already knew a round was chambered. All he needed to do was be prepared to shoot at whatever was in the abandoned village. Just because those Anowan intel chair riders said it was abandoned didn't stop the feeling that he was being watched from the windows of those "abandoned" buildings.

Niko Filipek shivered, and it wasn't because of the sleet or cold.

[Vacif]

Warrant Officer Bo Khin Zaw Myine
Stalker Special Observations Group - 3rd Element
Dyatov Pass, Liverpool
Unnamed Silver Mine
3/16/2019 - 23:50

---

Approaching the mine, the team found the front gate wide open, the previous visitors having not closed it properly, or more likely blown open due to the elements. No map, likely no lights, and no idea what to look for. They wouldn't have nearly enough rope to line the entire mine so they just brought a shit load of chem lights with them to map their way. While the Anowans were using FLIR imaging for probably any sign of a thermal signature, the Vacifans stuck to flashlights to look for more normal conventional clues. While they could potentially run into a trog camp in the mines he doubted as much. They likely knew the place wasn't stable and probably didn't make for good shelter what with limited light and no map. Sure they could have made their own map but honestly that didn't really matter right now.

Sayar had his rifle hang by the sling as he surveyed the area's air with the chemical vapour analyzer. If there was really anything in the air, cologne, human sweat, feces, semen, Sayar would know. Meanwhile Ko was breaking glow sticks every few meters. Khin didn't bother following the power lines towards some kind of generator, even if it was miraculously in working condition, it likely wouldn't have any fuel, any he didn't think anyone here was carrying enough jerry cans to fuel a mine generator enough for them to do their search. So, he observed the floor for drag marks, disturbed ground, and prints that weren't theirs. Keeping an eye on his Geiger counter for any radioactive signatures.

They were professionals on the job, but Ko couldn't help but feel like asking. "Bjorklund, what about this decrepit mine is so 'nice'?"

[Anowa]

---

_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
XO
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:52 PM AST}

---

"This is Bull Team, we've arrived at the western side of town next to an abandoned petrol station. We're sending out a drone to recon the streets before we go any further in. We'll update you guys if we see anything. Out."

At the center of town there was a collection of two individuals. One of them kneeling, the other simply standing and watching. They seemed to be talking, but with the winter clothing they had on not much could be discerned but gestures. The one kneeling seemed to be working on some kind of heavy gauge wire, either splicing it or otherwise.

The man fixing the wire spoke, in a notably Pyrrhic accent, "I'm telling you, it was a fucking mistake letting those wolfhounds out. They keep coming back and chewing on the fucking comm wires."

The other shrugged, before starting in, a surprisingly, Sinican accented voice. "It's why you're here. Fix the things you know about."

The man on the ground sighed, before pulling out a rather large roll of Duct Tape. "Just wish I had something basic, like planting the fucking claymores in the caves. Tired of having to wade out into fucking blizzard conditions and fix a wire for the umpteenth time." a tearing sound was heard as the man started packing up. "Alright, let's head back in before the SI shells start getting launched."

The duo started towards the shack near the tower, unaware of the drone that had caught them.

---

While the drone had captured what could be described as a comical situation to some, Ingrid had flipped up her visor and was once again observing. What she saw was... somewhat concerning. "Astarte to Stag... Is anyone on your team scanning the mountains with an IR laser on?"

---

---

_{Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:53 PM AST}

---

They were professionals on the job, but Ko couldn't help but feel like asking. "Bjorklund, what about this decrepit mine is so 'nice'?"

As they descended into the darkness, Bjorklund replied in a hushed tone, "Close quarters, not a lot of room to maneuver, almost guaranteed risk of tinnitus in the first second of a firefight. Reminds me of basic."

Pirozzi spoke up next, "You know what else reminds me of basic? Being blinded by bright light in Greeneyes, and having your position given away by the asshole with a moonbeam." As the man stated this, his head slowly turned to swivel and focus on the Vacifians. He continued in a low tone, low enough to hear, but barely audible beyond a good two feet, even in the cave, "We're in a fucking silver mine, which pairs with things like pyrite, arsenic, antimony, and chlorine, which makes the analyzer you have beep like fucking crazy the further deep we go and so help me Christ, if our position gets given away because of your lights or electro-nose, I will put you all through a wall. Do we have an understanding?"

[Nornsmark]

Taktikerafsnit "Kaffehaus" | Tactical Team "Coffeehouse"

---

Dytalov Pass, The Reach, Liverpool
16.03.19

Sigrun Wald marched in the frosty mountain air. Her breath fogged instantly, and she was infinitely thankful for her scarf. Still, she supposed she was better off than the Ophirians, who'd been born in an entirely opposite climate. The scarf was hand-knitted in traditional Nornsmarker fashion, it was primarily a dark-grey, with deep crimson triangles along the ends. The red had faded from years of use, and was no longer the noble and stark as it once was. The heavy military field cloak did much to keep her warm, and she'd thrown the hood up for additional warmth. If Nornsmarkers were good at one thing, it was winter.

She kept her pace and thought back to the nearly twenty-hour long deployment. First, they'd been shuffled into a loud, ungainly Anowan military transport she couldn't remember the designation of for most of a day. When they finally landed on a battered runway in a battered airbase in Grunalia, loaded onto another obnoxiously loud Anowan aerial vehicle. A type of unfamiliar helicopter, which was geared as much for transport as it was for gunship duties. After another two hours, they'd arrived in Dytalov Pass, Liverpool.

It was cold, snowing, and high altitude. Just like home, really. The snow was deep, knee-high in some places. Though for their unflappable Commander Grimsdottir, it only ever seemed to reach her calves. Which raised some questions, notably, why would you design your super-soldier to be absurdly tall? That would just make them easier to spot in every circumstance. Anowans had silly ideas, she supposed.

After the initial quarter-hour of marching the town was in sight, the group spread out from the single file marching order. Weapons were checked once more, and Fencer was no exception. She clutched the rifle, checked the optic, the underbarrel launcher was loaded--one round, forty millimeters of high explosive fragmentation. Magazine was fresh too, the heavy rounds were as large as most rounds used in old battle rifles, and specialized for alpine conflict. The G.88R4 was a venerable weapon, having grown out of the old G.61 rifles. Only used by the Großreik, and extremely limited exports even for Nornsmark. It had been nearly thirty years since it's inception, and only minor modifications had been needed to keep it competitive. She checked the comparatively mediocre, though still passable, handgun next. Finally she drew the fighting knife.

It was a thing of beauty, lithe and harsh, perfectly balanced and matte black. The blade was sixteen-and-a-half centimeters long, made of durable Czeissan steel. She smiled, and stabbed it back into its sheath. She tapped the Old Man on his shoulder, and nodded. Ragnar Krossenov nodded back. His rifle, G.88R4 as well, was not the short-barreled carbine model like hers. His was a perfectly kept sharpshooter variant, with an integrated bi-pod and long, heavy barrel. He smiled, and adjusted his own faded scarf.

"This reminds me a bit of the Ernestov Estate Raid, to be honest," he said, chuckling lightly, "Except without the ATGMs."

She smiled back at the older man, when a crackle from her headset broke their reminiscing. It was the voice of the Town Team's resident super-human, and commanding officer. Ingrid Grimsdottir. "Coffeehouse, you two stay on this ridge and provide North-South Overwatch, let me know if anyone enters of exits the building at the center of town near the tower. Stag, you'll be circling around the east side of the town, clearing it from the outside in. Bull, you'll do the same but from the west, I'll be moving with you. Check fire and make sure what you're aiming at is a target, if I get shot by any of you, someone's getting put through a wall. Move out."

"Well, that settles things nicely I suppose," murmured the Old Man as Fencer produced her entrenching tool and cut into the snow.

"Confirmed, Commander. Coffeehouse will provide overwatch, north-south. Will radio on specified conditions," He radioed back tersely in his accented Trade. Scant moments later, Ragnar joined his fellow Nornsmarker in digging. Within three minutes, they had cleared out a small foxhole. It was large enough to hold both of them, and featured a small, covered cutout which laid beneath a good half meter of snow. Within said cutout rested a small, battery operated hotplate, rated for sixteen hours of continual use under ideal conditions.

As the Old Man readied the bipod on his rifle and got comfortable in his firing position, Sigrun rummaged through his pack, hunting for his mess kit. Both had packed enough rations for three days. Within these ration kits, were the pride of the Nornsmarker Reiksheer Logistik-Korps, the Feldendrik Ratsjon. They were hot beverage rations, specially designed for late-night watches in cold climates, like the Nornsmarker Highlands, or say, Dytalov Pass. Highly caffeinated, carbohydrate and protein rich, and best of all--delicious. So delicious were the three varieties of FD-Rats, that they had actually become successful in the civilian market. They even had a modest, though devoted, international consumer base. All-in-all, the Reiksheer was turning a tidy profit off of them.

After a few more moments, she grasped her prize. She set the small tin to the side, before unclipping a battered kettle from her pack. The kettle was of a simple design, though additional vents had been drilled in the spout to lessen the hissing of the steam. The original paint had long peeled off, replaced with a hodgepodge coat of matte grey. She popped the lid from the kettle, and dug into the light, fluffy mountain snow. Hastily she stuffed it into the kettle until it was nearly spilling out of the brim. The lid clicked back into place, and she set the small kettle onto the hotplate. With a flip of a switch, the hotplate simmered to life. With the heat masked under a half-meter of snow, it was unlikely to get them spotted. Quickly she produced their mugs, and waited not-so-patiently for the water to come to a simmer. In the meantime, she had a choice to make.

FD-Rats came in three varieties. There was FD-Rat No. 1, which was a coffee that had a hint of cinnamon, and was stronger than most espresso. FD-Rat No. 2 was a tea blend, that reminded most of Earl Grey or Black, and was strong, though not as much so as No. 1's coffee. FD-Rat No. 3 was a hot cocoa that for most, was much too rich. It maintained a decent number of supporters, but was left hanging on the coattails of its brethren.

Sigrun Wald personally preferred No. 3, and she tore open the packet and poured the mix into her mug. She knew that the Old Man preferred No. 1, so she followed up and poured the appropriate powder into his mug. It would be another few minutes before the kettle was ready, she'd be waiting intently. Idly, she wondered what her compatriot saw through that scope of his.

---

Ragnar Krossenov, operations name 'Old Man,' laid glumly within the foxhole. He peered through his scope towards the town. Twenty years ago, he'd been Ragnar Krossenov, operations name 'Javelin,' and now he was... 'Old Man?' Well, that's what you get for exceeding your life expectancy, he supposed. Though he resented whoever had started calling him 'Old Man,' and wished they'd step on either a landmine or a Lego, either would work. They hurt about the same. He grumbled curses as he adjusted his scope. Wind speed, precipitation, atmospheres etc. etc. For him, it was almost instinctual to adjust his sights like this. He'd left the complicated maths decades ago. He knew his rifle, and more importantly, he knew his bullets.

With a grunt, he shifted once more, and peered through his sight. He waltzed through town through the telescopic sight, landing on his designated target. He tapped his throat mic onto the command channel. "Command, this is Coffeehouse, Old Man speaking. I have two men heading towards the tower from near Bull team's position. Details unknown, heavy clothing and not enough zoom."

[The United Remnants of America]

Immortal 39-Deidre

---

Dyatov Pass, Liverpool

---

3/16/2019 - 23:53

---

Deidre had been observing the duo of unidentified subjects down in the center of the village. From her position, she couldn't quite make out what they were doing, but it appeared one of the individuals was working on something in the snow while the other pulled some dual duty of supervising the work and acting as a lookout.

Nothing they were doing immediately struck Deidre was immediately suspicious, at least in a vacuum. It was likely some quick maintenance job. However, since this was supposed to be an abandoned town, and the briefing had more or less pointed out that anyone here was likely hostile, that meant that whatever those two individuals were working on was likely of interest.

"Astarte to Stag... Is anyone on your team scanning the mountains with an IR laser on?"

Ingrid's voice came out clearly over the intercom. Deidre watched as the duo in the village center began wandering towards their shelter. An IR laser or even an IR light from her team was unlikely. As per Remnant SOP, IR equipment was always off unless ordered to engage or extract. To make sure, Deidre lowered herself deeper into the snow as she turned slowly to look down the berm at her team. All of them were half-buried in the snow by this point, and to a naked eye they blended pretty well. Deidre switched her helmet visor over to the combined IR/Thermal imaging and the murky white and black of the night turned to a washed-out white-black picture. She could see her team a little more clearly. There were not using any IR lights.

"Stag-1 to Astarte, negative. We're all dark-"

Then she saw the faint white beam dancing across the snow that hadn't been there when she'd been looking without her IR/Thermal imaging active. The beam was incredibly steady, and Deidre slowly turned her head, following it up to a point nestled among the mountains higher up above the town. It was maybe... seven-hundred meters, give or take. She wasn't going to reach for a rangefinder and silently cursed that there wasn't an integrated rangefinder in her helmet. She'd had to tell someone about that flaw.

"Disregard last, Astarte. Confirm visual of the IR laser, but it's not from us. It looks like we have someone watching us higher up, maybe seven-zero-zero meters away. Looks like they got were painting us and then lost us when we stopped moving and dug in a little to observe the town. I think we're pinned here unless someone gives us some support. We're not armed to engage at sharpshooting distance."

Deidre stopped moving, and became a statue. Her team didn't move either, especially once she refrained from signalling any okay after she turned, and from here she could just make out the shape of night optics on the heads of the rest of Stag, meaning they'd likely all seen the beam as well. That was good. They were maintaining radio silence and staying completely still in the snow, waiting for the targeting beam to go away.

The four of them had basically done everything they could at this point, unless someone helped them. If they tried to move, they'd be moving out of the snow, revealing themselves fully and then likely would be shot. It would be a waste, especially when none of them had any extended-range weaponry. An unfortunate situation, but one Deidre now had to lead her team through, somehow.

The Immortal awaited Ingrid's response, and she hoped like hell Ingrid had a solution to the predicament, as well as an answer for why this abandoned town was being covered by a sniper.

[Empire of Donner land]

Bull Team, Dytalov Pass, Liverpool

---

Aureleahs "Artur" Horsahgher

---

03/16/2019 - 11:54 PM

---

"Bull to Astarte, confirming two armed contacts with AKs in the center of the town. They just finished repairing a wire of some sort. They've also mined the caves that the other team might be going through with claymores. They're going to launch 'S.I Shells' here soon, whatever that is. We're moving in and following them, over."

Artur removed his finger from the earpiece, turned to his team and thumbed over his shoulder in the direction of the town. They took off running to the town center through the snow-covered streets on the left side. They passed abandoned suburban houses, some had broken windows or even no doors, most were completely empty, only some had some furniture left be it a chair or table. Those with no doors or broken windows were about as snow covered inside as it was outside with the snow gradually getting scarce as the interior deepened.

After some time running, Bull Team made it to an intersection going to the town center. In the distance they could see a significantly larger building that separated itself from the others, contrasting. Likely the town's office or some other government building that marked the town's center. Artur took point with Lans directly behind him. Caduce and Si'ke pulled security behind them, watching their six o'clock. Artur peeked around the corner with his rifle raised, watching, he could see the two walking in the distance.

Artur turned around again signaling to his team, he raised two fingers, "Contacts, walking awa-"

"Astarte to Stag... Is anyone on your team scanning the mountains with an IR laser on?"

"Stag-1 to Astarte, negative. We're all dark-"

It became clear to Bull that they had very well been spotted. "Fuck it, we gotta move fast," Artur said, running into the alleyway between two buildings and into what seemed to be a collection of suburban backyards. They were behind the buildings, and would likely be out of sight of the two contacts walking away if they were to turn around. The team of four hopped over old wood fences and smaller chainlink fences as fast as they could. Eventually, they came to the end of the bloc to another similar alleyway in between two suburban houses, waiting for them to keep moving so Bull team could continue to pursue them to their destination.

"This is Bull to Astarte, we're following the duo in the town, we need orders. Waste'em or keep following them? We can take them in if you need to, just make the decision quick."

Artur radioed this in, all the while Lans and Caduce leveled their rifles at the duo. Lans and Caduce took positions at both sides of the alley, waiting for the command to fire or pursue as they saw the two armed and unknown men walk.

[Vacif]

"You know what else reminds me of basic? Being blinded by bright light in Greeneyes, and having your position given away by the asshole with a moonbeam." As the man stated this, his head slowly turned to swivel and focus on the Vacifians. He continued in a low tone, low enough to hear, but barely audible beyond a good two feet, even in the cave, "We're in a fucking silver mine, which pairs with things like pyrite, arsenic, antimony, and chlorine, which makes the analyzer you have beep like fucking crazy the further deep we go and so help me Christ, if our position gets given away because of your lights or electro-nose, I will put you all through a wall. Do we have an understanding?"

Message was received, the Vacifans had cut the lights, and switched to their night vision. Ko stopped with the chem lights and that was that. The team kept at their search, remaining wary of anything that shouldn't be there, or looked like it was about to cave in on itself. "Understood." came a curt reply from the Warrant Officer.

Sayar didn't say anything in regards to the AT20. It was a shrunk down version of the ones that the SOI used back at their labs or even their more portable field kits. It was small, the size of a large smart phone, with ease of use not being too far off. A slightly bulkier processing unit was attached by cord which sat on Sayar's lower back. With the ones at the lab you had to get the air sample first, then bring it back and make the analysis. Unlike a Carbon Monoxide GasAn that made an obnoxious noise to probably save someone's life, the AT20 they were using monitored the concentration of different chemicals in the air, temperature, humidity, and location without an annoying blaring sound. Yes, the AT20 would pick up things like arsenic, and other chemicals but it wouldn't go crazy. It wouldn't beep.

In thus far the Esgonians and Ophirans had been remarkably quiet. Ko made sure to look behind him to make sure they were still there. Sometimes it was better that nothing happened. It was better than something happening and it having negative consequences. Of course if you never do anything, nothing gets done. Everything you did had a risk and a reward- or a consequence.

[Anowa]

---

_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
XO
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:53 PM AST}

---

News reached Ingrid of a few events. Firstly, that of the sniper in the mountains. It had been a concern for Ingrid, one that she vainly tried to dissuade in a double sided question to Stag. Secondly was the news that Bull was tailing the duo of OPFOR previously sighted in the middle of town.

If the sniper was using IR illumination, it likely wasn't a sniper, rather an automated SOFLAM, or even worse an RCWS. Either way, they had eyes on Stag, and what they were armed with, if anything was unknown, meaning that Stag wasn't in the clear. If they had eyes on it meant they knew potential intruders were present, and were likely to get some form of confirmation before engaging or sending a team to investigate. Stag as well as the rest of the team was working on borrowed time.

As for Bull. A gunshot on a mountain range carried a long distance, engaging the two OPFOR, even with suppressors was grounds for alarm. The two OPFOR would also likely be queried about anything they saw or if they could confirm of any friendlies were outside. Not to mention potential security check ins. Killing them, even silently, would alert any other OPFOR in the area, and given there was a cable, as well as some form of surveillance, meant that there were other OPFOR.

"Stag. Move to hard cover if possible, you have a very limited time frame. Bull, only engage if contact is imminent. Stay silent and use the impending confusion and suspicion to our advantage. Over."

With that, Ingrid moved herself. Weaving between buildings, she was working her way towards the center of town, while the other members of the team were in fact under her command, and she would try her absolute damnedest to keep them all in a single piece. Ingrid had a loyalty to her nation, meaning that she was fully intending to act as the first line filter to whatever intel was inside that structure.

Ingrid paused upon hearing a rumble, she all but shoved herself into the snow between two dilapidated buildings, as the rumbles got closer, and eventually, passed by. A 5 ton truck, an older model but still running. No military markings, but definitely not here on coincidence. "Astarte to all, OPFOR truck is moving towards the center of town. Hold position and standby for further instruction."

Ingrid popped out into the view of the street, watching the 5 ton come to a stop outside the shack in the middle of town. Four soldiers strepped out, blue Kite BDUs with white ghillie garb draped over them. Ingrid slumped into a more concealed position as she watched them enter the building, the driver keeping the vehicle idling. After roughly 45 seconds, they came walking out with a large metal case carried much like a casket would. It would swiftly be loaded into the truck, and just as quickly as they came they went.

"Astarte, truck is gone. Bull, coast should be clear, Stag, maintain hold."

---

---

_{Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:53 PM AST}

---

Pirozzi simply continued forward after the Vacifian's unfucked themselves. Bjorklund following behind him, after a gooid dozen oir so meters deeper, Bjorklund paused, looking at a part of the wall, even while a few of the others passed him. After a notable pause, the man spoke up, "Does this look like a-"

A portion of the wall exploded into action, bits of dust mud and rock bursting onto the floor as a warcry filled the tunnel, "Ayo Gorkhali!"

Bjorklund was, to put it mildly, struck dumb at such an event, hesitating for a moment longer than was necessary. At that point he was already a quarter second late, a fishlike knife shot out, raking across his neck and leaving a nasty gash. Bjorklund attempted to pull his shotgun to bear, the assailant thinking one step ahead, and batting it away as he shoved Bjorklund into the opposite wall. The shotgun still discharged, blowing a softball sized hole out of the opposing wall, as the Assailant raised the knife overhead. Bjorklund raised his arm to stop it, his right hand dropping his shotgun and letting it dangle from the sling as he moved to grab his sidearm.

Bjorklund's arm stopped the blow from reaching, but the knife was dropped between the two fighters, landing in the assailant'sd opposite hand. Bjorklund;'s right hand had reached his sidearm and had cleared the holster, it was pushed awry bu the arm of the assailant, who was now driving the steel into the gap of plating between the flank and chest plate. Bjorklund fired a round into the arm of thew assailant at an awkward angle as the knife was driven into him. A second round was fired, this time into the assailant's neck, and then a third into his chin.

Less than two seconds after it started, the assailant dropped to the floor with a mangled neck and head. Bjorklund leaning against the wall with a 11 inch curved blade jammed into his abdomen, slumping against the wall as blood flowed from his neck. His hand immediately went to the gash on his neck, keeping pressure on it. "Artery's not fucked or I'd feel it, and I can't taste blood so my lung is fine. Let's get to a bigger cavern before we get caught in a hailfire. I can last that long"

[The United Remnants of America]

Immortal 39-Deidre

---

Dyatov Pass, Liverpool

---

3/16/2019 - 23:55

---

"Stag. Move to hard cover if possible, you have a very limited time frame. Bull, only engage if contact is imminent. Stay silent and use the impending confusion and suspicion to our advantage. Over."

Shit. Deidre turned slowly in the snow to face away from the village. The Donnish were apparently moving into the village. Deidre had to assume they knew what they were doing and the Anowans could cover them from their vantage point, but it was moving time now.

"Stag copies, Astartes. Moving position now."

Deidre raised her fist. In the darkness, three heads moved ever so slightly in her direction. Filipek, Lewis, and Ruan had their eyes on her now, instead of watching to the left and right of their position. They'd all heard the exchange and knew they were all under a microscope, but that didn't relieve them from the duty of watching their immediate vicinity. There was nothing they could do about engaging a potential sniper in the mountains, anyways except to keep a low profile. Deidre pointed out two fingers and she shook her fist forward three times, pointing the fingers back down the small rise and back towards a thicket of trees roughly thirty meters away. It wasn't a big grouping of trees, maybe fifty square meters, but it was some sort of cover. Deidre decided trees weren't hard cover. You can cut a tree down with a gun if you have enough bullets. But a quick glance around showed nothing else unless they ran up over the rise and into the village about fifty meters from Deidre. It would be a fucking trek in the snow to really get moving, since the rise seemed to have built up more snow on the village side of the hill, while the side they were on was a little shallower and windswept, making travel easier. The trees would just have to do.

As one, the three operators rose from the snow, turned on their heels and began sprinting down the incline towards the trees. Deidre got up and sprinted after them, quickly catching and then passing the trio. It took Deidre eleven seconds to make the run. She wasn't moving as quickly as she could have, likely due to the snow up to her calves. She passed into the treeline and turned, watching the trio get to her position three seconds after her.

"Stag-1 to Astartes, we moved position to the thicket of trees roughly one-hundred meters west of the village. Repeat, friendlies in thicket west of village."

"Astarte to all, OPFOR truck is moving towards the center of town. Hold position and standby for further instruction."

Deidre instinctively knelt, and the others followed suit. A truck? That was not good. That meant these people weren't some hideaways, it meant they had regular transport and likely did resupply runs. That meant they were organized and in contact with other locations rather than being secreted away and isolated.

"Astarte, truck is gone. Bull, coast should be clear, Stag, maintain hold."

Well, that was good, Deidre guessed.

"Copy that, Astartes. Stag maintaining position. Anyone observe why that truck appeared and left?"

Lewis looked at Deidre and used a subtle hand signal that translated to "what the fuck?" Deidre's helmet didn't betray her expression, but her shoulders shrugged just enough to be visible. Lewis' face wasn't visible through his gator and NVGs, but he nodded in a way that explained he understood. It was all the conversation they needed at this junction. Even though this team hadn't been working together long, and even though Deidre wasn't brought up the same way Lewis was, those subtle gestures were universally known to anyone with any kind of social skill. Deidre may not have been an operator, but nonverbal cues were a thing she had become very adept at since Immortals always wore their full armor during an operation, and while Immortals used an internal radio that couldn't be heard outside of their helmets, it was still a natural thing for a person to be quiet, even if they knew that it wasn't logical because they couldn't be heard.

Deidre was still human, no matter what these people thought of her.

[Vacif]

---

(Image)

_{Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:53 PM AST}

---

Pirozzi simply continued forward after the Vacifian's unfucked themselves. Bjorklund following behind him, after a gooid dozen oir so meters deeper, Bjorklund paused, looking at a part of the wall, even while a few of the others passed him. After a notable pause, the man spoke up, "Does this look like a-"

A portion of the wall exploded into action, bits of dust mud and rock bursting onto the floor as a warcry filled the tunnel, "Ayo Gorkhali!"

Bjorklund was, to put it mildly, struck dumb at such an event, hesitating for a moment longer than was necessary. At that point he was already a quarter second late, a fishlike knife shot out, raking across his neck and leaving a nasty gash. Bjorklund attempted to pull his shotgun to bear, the assailant thinking one step ahead, and batting it away as he shoved Bjorklund into the opposite wall. The shotgun still discharged, blowing a softball sized hole out of the opposing wall, as the Assailant raised the knife overhead. Bjorklund raised his arm to stop it, his right hand dropping his shotgun and letting it dangle from the sling as he moved to grab his sidearm.

Bjorklund's arm stopped the blow from reaching, but the knife was dropped between the two fighters, landing in the assailant'sd opposite hand. Bjorklund;'s right hand had reached his sidearm and had cleared the holster, it was pushed awry bu the arm of the assailant, who was now driving the steel into the gap of plating between the flank and chest plate. Bjorklund fired a round into the arm of thew assailant at an awkward angle as the knife was driven into him. A second round was fired, this time into the assailant's neck, and then a third into his chin.

Less than two seconds after it started, the assailant dropped to the floor with a mangled neck and head. Bjorklund leaning against the wall with a 11 inch curved blade jammed into his abdomen, slumping against the wall as blood flowed from his neck. His hand immediately went to the gash on his neck, keeping pressure on it. "Artery's not fucked or I'd feel it, and I can't taste blood so my lung is fine. Let's get to a bigger cavern before we get caught in a hailfire. I can last that long"

The hidden assailant surprised them all. Tun and Ye had both walked right by the man when he made his move against the Anowan. The man was well camouflaged, Khin doubted even if they could see with normal light that they would see him. Now while their NVGs were higher spec than the average infantryman, NVGs still obscured details and vision. With the men's erratic movement, stuck in close combat, none of them dared to shoot, or intervene. The two other Vacifans watched the direction they were already going to make sure this wasn't part of a bigger ambush while looked for an opening in the fight.

Once it was over, Tun turned around and got to work quickly on the injured Bjorklund. He believed the man's claim that he could make it to the next area, but it would make everyone feel better if they at least bandaged the wound so he wouldn't have to hold onto it the entire time. Meanwhile Ye continued to pull security while Khin examined the body. He was a short fellow, and as he'd guessed from the war cry, he was a mid-forties Sukhothaian. Alpine to be exact. He had his signature knife, with what looked like an Anowan M12, however upon checking the chamber, it was the 9mm export version. He ejected the magazine and pulled the slide back before dropping the weapon. "You my friend, are far from home..." The man was certainly the right pick for this kind of work, which meant he probably wasn't alone. If he hid in plain sight, what else could be hidden? Trip wires? Mines? Gunmen? Khin took out his camera, and quietly snapped a good picture of the assailant's face, and bare hands for potential future identification. "We better watch our steps, who knows what else is here."

After everyone was back on their feet, the Esgonians took the initiative and took the lead. SFO-2, 'Koko' as her team called her strut forward into the darkness, weapon ready. In unison, double checking the shadows, the Vacifans followed suite.

[Saradena]

//SFO2 "Koko" Surmaji
//Dyatlov Pass Mine - 2355 Hours
//March 16, 2019

---

-Yep, they're here. and they know we're here.
-Greeeaaaat.


Tengu team had been following behind the operators for a while inside the mines, and from experience and common knowledge, the worst thing to happen inside an old dilapidated mine in the dark, was an firefight. With the sudden attack from an individual that had just popped up from out of nowhere, their worst fears have been realized. The enemy is here, and knew the team was coming for them.

With the assailant down and one of the Anowans receiving the initial blow, Tengu decided to take the lead for the team, with Koko, as usual, being the pointman for the team. They split into two elements, with three operators in each, to cover each other's flank. Koko, Sago, and Shirko on the left flank while Ilyushin, Elizabeth, and Hereford on the right. The pointman and the rear guard of each element use on standard nods while the second man ran thermals to assist in target spotting. the left flank were the ones ahead, with the right flank following closely behind them.

"See anything on thermals, Sago?" she whispers to him as they stop for a bit to watch for any contacts, with the recent attack still had them shaking. Sago shakes his head and motions her to move up. "Roger. Leading on." She advances further into the mine with the rest of her team following her. Shirko then motions Ilyushin to follow, wherein Hereford motions the rest of the team to follow behind them.

Another thing besides hidden bad guys they had to worry about are booby traps or sensors that one could easily trip or fall into if they're careless, and the worst thing that could happen is either set off an alarm and possibly bring down whoever else was inside to their position, or set off an explosive that could potentially bring down the whole mine on top of them. They knew that this could happen, so they utilize their OP: Suppresors on, advance slow but smooth, maintain maximum situational awareness, and observe strict firing discipline. Any misplaced bullet or wrong step could cost them not only their lives, but the lives of the rest of the force behind them as well, and their fate would rest in their hands. They just hope that it wouldn't come to that, added with the fear of the enemy possibly setting up position ahead of them, ready to pull the trigger at the sight of the operators.

They knew death was lingering in the mines, mingling with the filth inside. They just hope that he doesn't touch any of them yet.

[Anowa]

---

_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
XO
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:56 PM AST}

---

With the truck gone and the rest of the team informed, Ingrid moved in on the shack. Only to duck into an alley at the revelation of the two OPFOR the Donnish had been tailing, now closing on the shack. Ingrid waited until the sound of a door opening and closing reached her before ducking out of cover. Looking at the door in detail, she noticed it didn't fit in with the structure, instead of being the expected wooden housing door, it looked like a reinforced cellar door, solid metal slab with a metal frame. There was a handle, but chances were it was locked.

Ingrid was still on the clock, any second now that RCWS on the mountain could start lighting them up, she couldn't wait for the donnish team. And with them as close to a comms center as could be, breaking their barely held covert status would need to happen now.

Her hand moved to the grip and trigger of the underbarrel shotgun on her rifle. Four rounds being fired echoed across the frozen landscape, four chunks of the wood surrounding the door frame blown out, and Ingrid moved. Boot landing dead center of the door, a solid crack echoing across the town as the door came down with a solid thud. Ingrid moved into the room, to find nothing more than an empty shack, ruffled floor mats, decaying wooden desks and rusted out equipment.

Looking down however she noticed the cable from the roof was going through the floor.

Her hand went to her radio, "Bull, Stag, regroup at the radio tower shack. Triple time it."

Given her knowledge of just how convuluted and completely fucked Anowan Black Ops teams could get... she suddenly felt underequipped.

---

---

_{Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 11:53 PM AST}

---

The Esgonians guided the team safely to the next chamber, the only worries arising from spider webs being potential trip wires, but regardless they entered a rather large chamber. From where they were, they had an elevated position with stairs on either side, that could see a massive cavern that ran maybe 150 meters. Each side had a good half dozen branches leading out to the mine's various shafts. Though what caught Pirozzi's eyes wasn't it's size, but rather the fact it was filled with a multitude of scrap metal, working construction lights, destroyed tools, barrels, crates and general waste from a very obvious military operation.

Pirozzi began to tend to Bjorklund's wounds when he started hearing voices at the far end, coming from the one tunnel at that end. Flashlights creating a glow from that shaft. They then entered the same chamber, fanning out and weaving between all the machinery. They had a lot of cover, even from an elevated position sach as the one Pirozzi and his fellows were in. But in the right conditions they could waste half of them and mop up in record time, but he was busy helping his friend not bleed out, so. Pirozzi hunkered down behind the metal plates that composed the safety rail and spoke up, "Tasei-1, engage on your mark."

[Empire of Donner land]

Bull Team, Dytalov Pass, Liverpool

---

Aureleahs "Artur" Horsahgher

---

03/16/2019 - 11:54 PM

---

Artur peeked around the corner of a paneled House. In the background, he could spot Commander Grimsdottir alone. Closer, the two contacts they have been following thus far were about to enter a building with a strange door. Not wood, like he would expect, or even some kind of plastic, but just a rectangular mass of metal taking up space where an actual door would be. No window and it was secured tightly to a metal frame. The two unknowns opened it up without any difficulty and entered into the darkness of the building. The brightness of the outside, amplified by the snow, made the interior look like an impenetrable void, an unknown they would surely be going into, and the cable he could just see was going right to that building.

Artur sighed, rolled his shoulders, and waited for Grimsdottir's command as she herself entered the building with the retort of four shotgun blasts, opening the door. The rest of the team, Si'ke especially, could feel his anxiety of going into a place with so many unknowns. Most operations, they had the intel advantage, knew what to expect and what to prepare for. Yet he was confident.

"Bull, Stag, regroup at the radio tower shack. Triple time it."

"Copy that, Lets go," Artur said through his earpiece, sprinting across the snowy street to the building. Even as he ran he felt in danger, they were being watched by someone or something, he could feel it although it was likely just that, a feeling.

And decisions were not based on simple feelings.

Artur entered the building, and the darkness that had hidden the interior slowly lifted as his eyes adjusted to the light level. Empty, and trashed. Old radio equipment on dusty worn tables that probably didn't even work anymore. And the walls of the building were just as bad, with what was left of the paint peeling off, leaving splotches of what was underneath and even some holes either left behind by people or animals.

The more important detail was a large disheveled rug with the wire they were following this entire time leading into the ground. Lans walked to the rug and bent down, leveling his rifle in one hand against his shoulder pointed at the center of the rug, with the other hand grabbing the rug from the right corner closest to the door. Lans jerked his head towards the other corner and didn't say a word.

Caduce took the other corner in the same position as Lans and looked to Lans for the signal to pull. Si'ke and Artur stood at either's side off the rug with guns leveled towards it.

"Go!" Lans shouted, he and Caduce yanking and throwing the rug away from the center of the room. Bull team lowered their guns though, as what was under the rug was a large metal plate hatch, extremely large taking up most of the surface area the rug was over, and likely unable to be lifted by just one of them. Given they were working against Anowans, Artur thought they were probably resilient to any conventional breaching explosives currently available to them.

Si'ke, upon his own realization, began to load slugs into his breaching shotgun instead of breaching shells.

"If you can figure a way through this thing, we'll take point," Artur suggested, looking at what could only be described as some kind of supervillain entrance.

"You really think that we're better as point than the pseudo-augmented person in full-body armor?" Si'ke judged in Donnish as he loaded the last shell, he was hushed.

[The United Remnants of America]

Immortal 39-Deidre

---

Dyatov Pass, Liverpool

---

3/16/2019 - 23:56

---

"Bull, Stag, regroup at the radio tower shack. Triple time it."

Four gunshots echoed off the mountains and snow.

Deidre saw three covered faces turn to her. In the darkness, she could read Filipek's body language, though Ruan and Lewis were too concealed to get a good read. Filipek was visibly confused, and Deidre assumed the same was held true for the rest of the team. Hell, even Deidre was mildly concerned. They were being obviously zeroed in with a laser sight hidden in the mountains, and they'd only just run into the woods to hide out.

And now Grim wanted them to move out of cover? This was setting up for a disaster.

"So we're gonna stay put, right?" Lewis' voice broke over their team channel.

"No, we have to move," the echoes of the four rounds being fired in the village still giving a reverb off the mountains.

"Why? If we leave cover, we get shot."

"If we don't leave cover, then our team gets shot. They need support."

Lewis didn't respond, but she understood his hesitation. There was a chance that the laser sight on the position was attached to a long-range weapon waiting to pick them off as soon as they moved. But Grim needed their help, right?

"Alright. We move as a group on three, understood?" Deidre awaited a response.

"Liaojie."

"Yes, ma'am."

"This is a bad idea."

"Alright. Three. Two. One. Move!"

As one, the group of four soldiers broke from the treeline and sprinted towards the village - albeit clumsily and slowly. The deep snow slowed the team down as they trounced into the slush up to their knees. Deidre broke out ahead as she worked through the deep snow and crested the small rise first. The next three soldiers arrived on the hill seconds behind, with Ruan nearly tripping and falling on the unfamiliar terrain of the snow.

As the team raced down the incline and towards the geographic bowl that held the village, the snow deepened before leveling back out again, and the hampered Remnant team made the run in only a couple minutes despite the difficulty.

The team slowed as they approached the radio tower. They watched the Donnish team, Bull enter the building that Grim was apparently inside of. They formed up and kept their eyes open as they moved to the entry doorway of the radio tower building. Deidre glanced around and signaled to the team to look outward and cover the building's entrance while she leaned into the doorway and looked into the interior of the shack where Grim and Bull were. Si'ke was loading rounds into a shotgun.

"Are we preparing for a fight then?"

Deidre noticed the hatch in the floor that the other Donnish were standing around.

"What the hell is that, an entrance to a supervillain's evil lair?"

Out of the corner of her visor, Deidre saw Filipek's head swivel towards her and give her a questioning look. Deidre ignored him for now.

[Vacif]

Warrant Officer Bo Khin Zaw Myine
Stalker Special Observations Group - 3rd Element
Dyatov Pass, Liverpool
Unnamed Silver Mine
3/16/2019 - 23:58

---

The claustrophobic tunnels gradually opened up into a larger cavern as the 17 man unit ventured further into the old mine. Coming up on the opening, the Vacifans established security as Pirozzi began to tend to Bjorklund's wounds more seriously. They had a nice sight line up on their little natural platform, but the sight of the lights and constructional waste put a lump in Taisei 1's gut. They really still were here, still doing things. He was just hoping to find traces of their activities like a heavy radiation presence, or a few discarded equipment cases, but here they were, one body in, and a hell of a lot more to go thorough. The space here was at the very least, open, so they didn't have to worry as much about a lucky grenade getting them all as they filed through these tunnels.

Before Taisei-2 could check for signs of a chemical trace, voices and foot steps unlike their own echoed through the chamber as several lights cut through the darkness of one of the adjoined tunnels on the other side of the space. Taisei's rifles were already trained on the tunnel as a bright rifle light blocked sight of their targets. Over a dozen figures filed out of the tunnel, scattering about the room in patrol pattern. The group marched steadily towards them. Well spaced, vigilant, like proper soldiers.

They however were unaware of the team of foreign operatives watching over them.

"Tasei-1, engage on your mark."

"Copy. Everyone grab a target, we'll drop them at once." The men crept forward silently, careful not to disturb the rocks or strain the aged metal railing. Their weapons were suppressed, their ears were protected, but even in a larger cavern like this, their reports would echo loud enough to raise the dead. Not the mention OPFOR, whoever they were likely didn't have suppressed weapons. If they were fighting proper Anowan trained regulars, they were going to be packing some very loud heat. The Chief couldn't make out anyone special, no uniforms, and the glare of the right lights made it difficult to observe the weapons they carried. So he settled on the man furthest back. 3 had his SAW braced against the floor, ready to cut them down, and 2 had his sights on the one up front. Taisei-1 glanced over to the others who were now in position with their own targets sighted.

"Mark."

With that word, Taisei's weapons barked in unison. Bodies began to drop, either dead, wounded, or hitting the ground for cover. The Vacifans used the half a second of shock to secure additional rounds on the targets. Taisei-1 could confirm for himself that he'd dropped two, the first two rounds in the salvo cleanly struck the rear-most man in the head. The man's head jerked backwards violently as the rest of his team registered the gunfire. His body hadn't even hit the ground when another three rounds struck the man in front of him. One round hit the man in the plate carrier, but his motion, combined with the Mk.24's recoil caused the next two rounds to cascade into the man's neck and cheek. The man's momentum brought him crashing into an old floodlight that was still on. His body less than gracefully slumped onto the cold ground of the cave.

Taisei-2 dropped the man up front with the light. He fell backwards into one of his companions. The figure only had time to catch their friend before another burst slammed into their chest. They fell onto the ground in pain as Taisei-2 assumed the rounds pinged off of their plate carrier. While not a killing blow, the man was in immense pain as the third round may or may not of penetrated. In pain they scrambled for cover on all fours as rounds from the rest of U-50 slammed into the rest of their unit. Finally there was Taisei-3, the SAW rocked the entire room below as suppressed automatic fire slammed into the core of the group. Screams of pain joined the yells of shock and anger. Two enemies had been killed before they could seek cover, their bodies unceremoniously crumpled onto the ground. Their white cold-weather gear was now not just stained by the dust of the cave but their own maroon blood. The rest of the group was too dispersed for attacks of opportunity, or at least lethal ones. 3 was more than sure a few of the enemy's curses were because of one of his rounds hitting a limb or a plate.

Now the fight Taisei-1 was expecting had come. His enemy was on the back foot, and if everyone could do their job, they'd be able to press the advantage before the enemy could even return fire. The enemy however still had ample cover, even with their height disadvantage. Unit 50 had to mop up with care.

[Nornsmark]

Taktikerafsnit "Kaffehaus" | Tactical Team "Coffeehouse"

---

Dytalov Pass, The Reach, Liverpool
16.03.19

Ragnar Krossenov muttered every curse in every language he'd ever heard at once. Nothing was going well. Why did nothing go to plan anymore?

That remote gun was playing havoc with the rest of the town group down below. They were effectively pinned, leaving just him and Sigrun able to neutralize or at least, suppress the threat. He snarled once more, and depressed the speak button on his throat mic. "This is Coffeehouse," I should've retired, he thought to himself, once more throwing he and his team into the fire. "We are attempting to suppress the gun, with luck it will be enough of a distraction to cover your movement. Be quick about it, yes?" He released the speak button, and turned to his companion.

"Always did love a good suicide op," Sigrun chuckled grimly, loading a high explosive shell, "What's the plan?"

"We're going to pop a wall of smoke between us and the remote gun. Then, you'll sprint at an oblique towards the gun, try to hit it with that under-barrel of yours. I'll reposition and start firing on it. It's a mite out of range, but maybe I'll be lucky. That should distract it while you advance around it's flank,"

Sigrun nodded, and slammed home the breach of her launcher, "That's a bit of a gamble, yeah? Think it'll work?"

"Not particularly, no. But we've not many options at the moment and frankly, we're out of time," The older man replied, hefting a smoke grenade from his harness, "Mark,"

The two grenades landed a number of meters away with a soft thud, the hiss of smoke filling the chilled air. Both counted down from five, and with nary a nod leapt from their foxhole and dashed opposite directions. A scant few moments pass. If the gun didn't know they were there then, it did now. Ragnar could almost feel the electric eyes bearing down on him. He slid to a halt on the sharp, halfway-to-ice snow and went down to his stomach. The bipod on his rifle slapped heartily onto the frozen earth before digging into it. He flicked the selector switch, and with a half-hearted prayer depressed the trigger.

---

Sigrun Wald heard the sharp, staccato thunder of Old Man's service rifle from behind and to the right as she ran. Her boots thudded into the earth, one in front of the other. She had to cover roughly three hundred and fifty meters. That was easy. All she needed was a minute-and-a-half. That was the hard part. Old Man had to buy her enough time to get in range and knock the bloody thing to bits. But that was a long time, and he had practically no cover. Another two round burst crackled behind her. She burst through the last of the smoke and into the open. Her breathing was not yet heavy, and so she pressed into a dead sprint. In front of her, the first bellowing rattle of a retort rang out, and she felt a brief pang of relief as she realized she wasn't being fired upon. Another footfall, another meter.

---

Ragnar Krossenov slammed the fresh magazine into his rifle, quickly releasing the bolt with a cathartic clack just as the first return fire fell upon him. He knew instantly that it wasn't a proper autocannon, he'd be dead if it was. Heavy rounds splattered the snow around him, puffs of white and brown loam, and cursed his idiocy before firing through the veritable storm of rounds pounding his position back at the remote gun. Occasionally, a round would glance off the armored casing of the weapon, but judging by sound of another salvo bearing down on him he'd failed to cause any damage that a fresh coat of paint and a buffing couldn't solve. He depressed the trigger, and another two of his own rounds puffed into the earth and snow around the RCW. He was out of his own effective range, and for the umpteenth time that day he wished he'd brought a Hautëklir along. Another of the heavy rounds splattered a scant sixty-centimeters from his head. They were ranging in.

---

Thirty meters remained on her run. Thirty meters and then they'd have a chance to come out of this alive. Another stride, another steaming exhale. Another blast of frosty air in her lungs. Again. Twenty-five meters. Again. Again. Twenty meters. Another of the long, dull fusillades pounded nearer and nearer to Old Man. Another sharp crack of lightning, and she knew that the Old Man yet lived. She grinned a feral grin and took in another breath, coming to a slow halt. She was in range, and seemingly unnoticed. She fell to one knee, and flicked open the ladder sight. In the distance, she saw that the remote gun at some point had realized the threat she represented, and was pivoting quickly towards her. She raised the rifle to her shoulder, and fired. The rifle kicked back into her shoulder, and quickly she slammed the breach of her launcher open as she watched the first shell detonated shy of the weapon.

The brass casing tumble to the snow, and instantly she slammed another high explosive shell into the breach. She slapped it shut, raised the rifle to her shoulder, and adjusted her aim. She fired once more, and watched with anticipation as the slow projectile slammed just before the base of the RCW, and detonated with a clap of thunder. She awaited her death, and when it did not come, burst into a fit of laughter and clutched her throat mic. "Old Man, you good?"

---

"Old Man, you good?" Fencer's ugly laughter filled his crackling headset.

"Barely," He responded, rolling over onto his back with a sigh. The landscape around him was pocked with an unnatural amount of steaming holes where the heavy rounds had landed. "Could you not miss next time? I've a nasty allergy to enemy fire, you see," He responded dryly. He flicked the frequency over to the command frequency, "Coffehouse speaking. Remote gun is out of play, Command. Would you like us to regroup with you or reposition?"

[Saradena]

//SFO2 Sago Gadeshina
//Dyatlov Pass Mine - 2356 Hours
//March 16, 2019

---

"We got contact. Multiple bad guys ahead."
As they enter the chamber and observe the surroundings, they were suddenly interrupted by multiple voices coming from the other side. The team observe the unknown contacts as they fan out. They now know that they likely know how to fight, so they quickly decide on how to effectively mop them up fast. The team had a lot of cover as well as the advantage of night vision, to which the adversaries had only flashlights.

"Get into position and pick your targets" Ilyushin orders as the team quietly get into a piece of cover, crouching as low as they can while quickly moving into a position they prefer. Koko moves up a bit, with Sago behind her. They move into a position with enough space for both of them to maneuver and engage, while Shirko moved into a position behind them to act as overwatch for the two. The second echelon moves in a similar fashion to the first. Their idea was the first man was to pin down the enemy who is behind cover while the second man advances to flank and flush out and kill them while the third man picks off targets which either parties couldn't spot.

As soon as they enter position, they point their rifles at the mass. Koko gives a thumbs up to Squad Lead. Ilyushin confirms with a nod.

"Send it"

After those words were uttered, the team immediately opens up on the enemy group, almost in sync with the Vacificans' order to fire. The combined firepower of the unit should have given the enemy a huge shock and a couple of casualties. The Esgonian team continues to take on the enemy with accurate rifle fire they could provide as they pick off any sorry bastard that couldn't make it to cover, dropping bodies left and right. The ones who have hunkered right now were being pinned down. As soon as Koko saw the opportunity to move, she motions her partner to cover her advance as she reloads and switches her rifle to full-auto. A quick pat and she quickly advances to another piece, Sago and Shirko covering her. The second team also follows suit, with Hereford moving to Sago's position while Catherine covers him. Koko, after finding another piece of cover then takes a half second-breather before spotting for any targets. With the enemy likely in disarray, the team could hopefully take them down quickly before their friends arrive.

---

[Anowa]

---

_{Commander Ingrid Grimsdottir
XO
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 12:00 PM AST}

---

Ingrid really didn't know what to think at this point. Bunkers were common enough, but in this place? Unlikely. Unless Liverpool had more than a simple reason for giving U-50 the access they had.

Ingrid started circling the hatch floorboards creaking as she walked, stopping in some places, as she did she flipped her visor back up. looking at the small indented keypad on the side of the trap door. It had a combo lock as well as floor indicators. It was an elevator, given it's size and material probably a cargo elevator. She took in the room, dilapidated, filled with furniture still. Mostly desks and a few old dressers and large cabinets, Ingrid took a position beside one of said dressers, itself unusually well kept.

The gunfire outside stopped, and a prompt radio transmission cut in, "Coffehouse speaking. Remote gun is out of play, Command. Would you like us to regroup with you or reposition?"

Ingrid pressed two fingers into her throat mic, "Coffeehouse, Astarte. Good job with the gun. Regroup at the radio tower, we have OPFOR for you to watch over. Over."

A pause followed as she shifted her rifle into her other hand...

Before promptly punching a hole through the front door of the cabinet she stood beside. Pulling her fist out, a man spilled out of the furniture onto the floor, holding his stomach, and proceeding to vomit whatever it was he ate last onto the floor. His rifle clattering a few feet away.

Ingrid again spoke, "Dipshit in the floorboards, you have 5 seconds before we start dumping mags into the ground."

A voice spoke below Filipek spoke in a Pyrrhic accent, "Yeah, alright, Jesus." a group of boards suddenly swung up as a man sat up, hands raised as high as he could, "Please don't fucking shoot me. It's too goddamned cold to die."

---

---

_{Master Chief Warrant Officer Enzo Pirozzi
Sergeant Jarl Bjorklund
CBRNE Specialist
EOD Specialist
Dytalov Pass, The Reach
Liverpool}

---

_{03/16/2019 - 12:00 PM AST}

---

Bjorklund's helmet was off and Pirozzi was slapping staples into his neck wound. Gunfire and flashbangs echoing through the large cavern, generally making it difficult for him to hear.

But one thing he did hear, he really didn't want to.

The was a deep plop beside him, looking over he spotted a round object, about fist sized and with a sprout of metal out the top.

"GRENA-" Pirozzi's words died in his mouth and Bjorklund pushed him. The wounded man had scooped up his helmet and had placed it over the explosive, and himself on top of it.

Elsewhere in the cavern, Koko would suddenly have a similar surprise bounce off the cavern wall and at her feet. With the soldier who threw the item suddenly spraying blind automatic weapons fire from his position in the same direction, the rounds themselves had a presence, not from a simple assault rifle, but from something heftier.

Taisei-3, from his position would not only see Bjorklund cover their respective ball of death, but also another duo sailing towards him from two separate angles.

[Empire of Donner land]

Bull Team, Dytalov Pass, Liverpool

---

Aureleahs "Artur" Horsahgher

---

03/16/2019 - 11:54 PM

---

The GRCS team had regrouped with them, arriving through the door, before them all was identified as an elevator entrance. It took him a while, but Artur noticed the embedded keypad at just the same time Ingrid did. Artur looked over the GRCS team that had just arrived and shaken his head, "I don't like the look of this, not a bit," he warned. Turning to Caduce he pointed him towards the doorway, "watch outside, I don't want any surprises." Caduce nodded, he walked to the doorway and took a position to the right of it from the inside, keeping his head on a swivel, his rifle shouldered. Just then there was a loud smashing noise that had come from behind him, like a brick against splintering wood.

Artur jolted, turned to behind him with his rifle raised, the rest of his team had followed suit. Ingrid had pulled a man from inside a cabinet and breaking the cabinet in the process, it looked at least a little antique. This hideaway had then crashed into a table, breaking that in the process. Property damage notwithstanding, Artur let his rifle drop and hang, moved to secure the man's rifle that had crashed to the ground, removing the magazine, putting it in an empty pocket in his pants, and emptying the chamber with the distinctive clicks and clangs that came with it. He took the round cleared from the barrel and placed it in the chamber backward as best he could with his back turned to the now captured Soldier, just in case. Finished, he placed it against the wall, out of reach.

After he had just done that, Ingrid shouted for another to come up from under the floorboards. Artur waved for Si'ke to secure this one as he went to secure the other Soldier. Artur placed a firm boot on the Soldier's back and moved his arms behind him, zip-tying their hands together, he sarcastically patted the trooper on the head twice before confiscating any other weapons he had on him. During the entire time, he noticed that the Soldier was not particularly fond of this, growling and cursing the entire time, Artur tsk'ed "you really should feel thankful, a lot of people pay for this kind of treatment, man."

Look up, Artur saw Si'ke doing much the same. Grabbing his rifle, removing its magazine and emptying its chamber and putting it besides the other one. Before not too long the two were tied up next to each other, weaponless and without communication and probably a tad grumpy about the whole affair. Si'ke looked inside a bag he had retrieved from the one from under the floorboards, then shrugged, "just tools," he noted, then placed the bag in his backpack.

Lans stood up from inspecting the keypad on the Elevator and went over to their new house guests, he had a bit of a smug grin and then asked the captured Soldiers a question, "So... what's down there and how do we get in? What's going on with this place." It was then Artur could see Caduce squinting his eyes at something, open them sharply, then jolt his head out of the door opening as if his life depended upon it.

"What the hell did you see?" Artur asked Caduce who looked a bit panicked as if he'd barely gotten away with a mistake.

"Light Glint from a reflection, I think it's a Sniper scope, It's not our team I'm pretty sure," Caduce replied.

"Well, if it is, I guess we're stuck here unless anyone has any suggestions or an explanation that it isn't a Sniper."