Operation White Falcon (closed JSF only)

by **Kreigan** » Mon Dec 27, 2010 9:47 pm

In the middle of the desert sat a small town, or atleast what it was appeared to be. At closer look into the town you could see it was abandoned, and the people were manicans made to look like people. It was a decoy town set up. In the town hall square there was a fountain which when somthing on it was activated, it opened revealing a hole with a ladder which led down into the secret base of which Cobra and his Mercenarys Companys HQ was. Over looking the town on a hill far away was a sniper camflauged so he blent in with the sand. He watched over the town through his scope, next to him his spotter, also camoflauged helped him keep watch over the town.

And in the police station there were 50 mercenarys, some who were watching the screens of cameras set up around the town while the others sat around talking or sleeping. Meanwhile down in the underground base, Cobra sat in his office reading some reports and other financial paper work. A large mercenary walked in, he had on desert camp pants, black ballistic vest and a balaclava. It was Heinrich, who was on the cobra island base when the JSF attacked it and his life was spared by Roberts. "Sir?" Heinrich said as he stood in an attention stance. "Well Heinrich, I just recieved news that Ms.Roberts wasnt Ms.Roberts but an agent. Same with Mr.Roberts, I know you want your revenge but that will have to wait. I want to see what JSF's next move is before we do anything, we have to get it right this time." Cobra said. "You may leave now, but be ready when I call for you." Cobra said while waving him away. "Yes Sir" Heinrich replied as he pivoted with his right foot and left the room. "And so it begins" Cobra said with a sinister smile.

by **Phonencia** » Mon Dec 27, 2010 10:31 pm

Bedke stuffed Mcgee's Dogtags and the picture of his girlfriend Jessica into his Chest pouch.
He silently stared into his Helmet's visor. He hadn't been doing too good recently. The death of Mcgee, his co-pilot and closest friend had really done a number on him. showing up for duty half drunk. suicide attempts. deep dark depression. alcoholism. He never thought it possible to get out of. Until he met Jessica, something about her just....lit his day up. Her personality. sat down and waited for orders. He'd heard something about some Cobra dude, apparently JSF had some grudge against him and wanted to finish it. He was new of course so he had no Idea what happened the last time they went after him. Whatever, as long as he got to do some flying and shoot shit he was happy.

by **Strykla** » Tue Dec 28, 2010 9:20 am

Sheppard smashed the beer bottle on his forehead and ordered another. Around him, people in the bar were laughing.
He'd been coming to bars ever since he'd lost so much of his body. Instead of waiting for the depression to come, which he'd rather avoid, he'd taken up drinking.
As the shards of glass flew everywhere, one man snarled. He was a large, tough-looking person who seemed to have a set against Stryklans, as he'd been voicing his opinion against them in the bar, but Sheppard hadn't risen to the bait. As he turned, Sheppard saw a nasty cut from one of the shards. The man took out a pistol and set it on the table. "Russian roulette," he said. Sheppard laughed and picked up the pistol, a .44 revolver. The man put a bullet on the table. Sheppard said, "Fourty-fours are shit, but I'll still do it." Sheppard put the bullet in one of the cylinders and spun it. Placing the muzzle on his chin, he pulled the trigger. Click. The man snatched the gun out of his hand and opened the cylinders. The bullet fell out. "You rigged it! It was in backwards!" Of course, there was no way to prove it, and Sheppard was drunk anyway. He was probably just looking for a fight. "Ha!" Shepard said. The man roared and swung a fist at him. Sheppard fell back off the stool and hit the ground. As he got up, the man swung another fist, but Sheppard saw it coming and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and throwing the man around into a phone booth, crushing it. The guy screamed and charged him. Sheppard smashed a fist into his shoulder and kicked into his shin, tripping him. Sheppard, using his metal arm, brought a fist down into his chest, breaking a few ribs.
Than, as Sheppard was about to break his jaw, powerful hands grabbed his shoulders, evidently the guy's buddies. "I think we need to take this outside, robot guy." One said.
When they got into a back alley, two guys grabbed his arms and held them back. They were typical gangsters. One hit him in the stomach, making him double over. "We need to teach you a lesson, robo boy." He hit him in the jaw.
After a few more swings, one intentionally hitting him in the scar on his face, Sheppard gathered his strength. He hooked his foot around one of his "jailer's" legs, and tripped him. Now his right hand was free, and he brought it down into the other guy's faces, probably breaking off a few teeth. The man who was hitting him tried to ram Sheppard, but he pushed him to the ground.
The guy who he'd tripped got up now, and was running toward him. Sheppard brought his arm around and clotheslined him. Sheppard than took the guy he'd first brought to the ground and broke his arm. Than he broke a few ribs. "Bustin' heads," as some called it.
A few minutes later, he left, leaving the three he'd battered, and a few more gangsters, crumpled on the ground in some alleyway. Maybe he'd killed them. Maybe he'd maimed them. Who knew. He was tired of fighting, all the killing he'd seen, but at the same time he couldn't get enough. It was his life. He sat down on a bench as it started to rain. Looking at his watch, it was 4300 hours, 4:30 in the morning. He put his face in his palms. Than the alcohol caught up with him, and a few minutes later he was passed out on the bench in the rain.

by **Obamacain** » Tue Dec 28, 2010 4:01 pm

OOC: I'll assume this is before Lost Chapter just to develop Tomas more. This will be considered the first RP in the "Glory" period of the JSF
IC: Tomas would not be found anywhere in the main Joint Strike Force base at the time. Over the time since Grey Paladin his visions and hallucinations had worn off greatly but even this could not stop the wave of depression that would catch up to him. As he walked down 121st street and looked towards the horizon to see the imposing Obamacainese Joint Strike Force Headquarters he hit a mental brick wall and slumped down on the sidewalk. Passer-by's looked on at him for a moment before continuing on their daily commute. It was almost a taunt to Tomas that the road to his job led straight through the road that had caused him so much pain. Here he used to live with his "friends" - fellow Gang members of his and Kujata Retya who he had grown up with. They had placed their base on the corner of 121st and Mycala. It was there that Kujata and the rest of Tomas' gang had died, shot by a enemy gang, while Tomas lay on the ground bleeding out only to be rescued by Reggie Knox.

And now he was here again, forever fighting a war that would never be won. He was lost and alone. What was the purpose of continuing to the Headquarters? It always seemed that someone got killed in every mission and it always seemed he did nothing to help the team out. And once again thoughts of his lost fiancee. The only person he knew to have information on her was Mao Marx. Marx was now according to the Obamacainese government 6 feet under in a large marble and gold tomb.

Tomas would not be found at the moment in the main Joint Strike Force base. Instead he was located in a hotel bathroom, with a heroin needle sticking out of his left arm, passed out, hopeless, alone...

Main Base
Meanwhile Vice Colonel York Bondera, brother of the long deceased James Bondera, would be sitting in Tomas' seat at the control room ready for the upcoming meeting.

by **Novograd IV** » Tue Dec 28, 2010 5:03 pm

Laiho relaxed against a tall, thin tree up in the mountains, the whole range almost exposed to him as the sound of small arms ripped through the air, leaving the appropriate 'thunk' sounds that the trees made all that more intimidating. But this was normal for Laiho, as well as a few other of his team. It was a recent contract for Novograd to hunt down violent operatives in bordering nations to the north, it bought some money to Novograd, and a fair bit of safety for the border towns of all countries involved, quite a few of which couldn't afford a decent military, or the deployment costs to secure their own lands.

But the politics mattered oh so precious little to the wolves, as they put shots back in the direction of the muzzle flashes that appeared in the snow-scape, trying again to scrape a Novan soldier. But they would have no such luck when their equipment forced them to engage at the smallest ranges, barely over 200m and their fire proved sloppy, not enough to suppress anything. It made Laiho just that little bit sadder at how desperate these people were, for whatever reasons they had. Laiho peered across the trunk of his temporary cover to place some shots down at the 'terrorists' as they were to be referred to in respect of the other, tiny countries that seemed to think they had leverage over the Novan people.

“Fenyeh, this gets boring after a while, eh comrades?” Laiho’s voice came out loud, clear and crisp in the snow to his fellow soldiers even as his own gun rattled beside his face, returning suppressive fire to move under. Laiho was met with a few affirmative shouts and grunts back as the support gunner threw down a thermate grenade, quite a considerable upgrade to a now obsoleted thermite, even if the former was just a mix of the latter and some extra chemicals.

the heat kicked up was enough to light up the nearby bushes from where it was thrown, eliminating the cover of the foreigners as the Wolves opened up in a line of fire, almost a firing squad, if it weren’t for the varying guns they all carried, and the daysacks they wore for the trip. Laiho stepped back to relax as the transport was called onto a nearby snow ridge that it could land on. Giving them time to strip their prizes for ammunition, and other essential gear, before heading out again. They all neglected to take a smear of blood from the bodies, abandoning custom as an insult to the fight that was presented to them.

It was boring, to be honest. Novograd had no mortal enemies at war, and the only action that was really seen was the occasional trip over the border to let off some steam on ‘terrorists’ with their home-made guns or cheap replicas and copies that fell apart, it was a rather depressing state of affairs, but when Laiho got in the transport, that would change. Fast.

3 hours and one flare later and the Novans were on a night flight home in a helicopter heated to a cosy 6^oC, sitting around with their guns and picking at them awkwardly, if there was a fight to speak of, they’d be at each others throats in joy, but it was never worth the effort to go hunting these ‘terrorists’. It never seemed to bring too much joy over the occasional trip to the shooting range.

Of course, what also made things quiet was the presence of a rather thinly built man, who greeted them with an FPK strapped to his back and an ever present shadow cast over his face. It took him a good 5 minutes before he spoke up at all and when he did, his voice commanded silence that should have come from a man twice his size. However, it wasn’t a harsh tone he spoke in...

“Alexei, you’re to gear up and head to the JSF again, I’m taking command of your wolves until you return, enjoy yourself out there” He relaxed into the stares and glares sent his way at being talked about so freely, the wolves weren’t happy with the arrangement, it seemed.

Laiho cast his gaze outside, and before he knew it, he was being ushered onto a steel fast rope downwards onto the warm tarmac of a fresh airfield, met by his gear and a large pack of his own stuff from base, it looked like he was wanted rather urgently for this to have gone by so well orchestrated, but that only meant one thing.

The hunt was on again.

A small part of Laiho that he thought long dead had jumped inside him, his body almost hummed with excitement at the revelation that he could once again return to some kind warfare that was worthy of the Wolves’ mark. Something that had all the makings of a great fight, a struggle maybe.

But his thoughts were interrupted when he was led off by the camouflaged arm of another operative, leaving him with one last thought to the old days before he caught up on reality again.

by **Rodama** » Wed Dec 29, 2010 3:17 pm

Krystia
The City of Roses
Gaur Tavern
23:06pm

Two years since Grey Paladin, one year eight months since her final time facing Ricky, one year six months and three days since she had grown unsettled, and one year one month and five days since she had left the JSF and Mehande behind. She was Death again now, and everyone knew it. She had grown sick of hiding away; changing so much from the girl she had been when she had first fled.

Once she was back in the underground, boosted up by a few old friends that she had made on her own, the urge to hunt had grown inside her. Quiet at first it had eventually grown into a roaring flame, she supposed that Ricky had all started it but she didn’t really know. All she had known was that she wanted the bastards’ heads on pikes, and by bastards she meant every guy that had intimidated her into doing his biding before. Ricky was only one part in this whole thing, just one part.

Now she was taking a break after getting her hands on two small time leaders of different groups in different places, ridiculous how much time it was taking her to get done with all this. One of them had been Authion a small time drug lord in Karuna though, satisfying after he had ripped her off and torched her workshop while she was out. The other had been Suiauthon a nice warlord who tried to kill Ricky and herself after Ricky had traded the guy some serious ammo and plans.

That was about when the phone rang, she was in a room in the back of the tavern on her own for once. The bartender came back and signaled to her that it was for her, she obliged and walked into and through the bar. “Death here, what can I do for you?” she said quietly picking up the phone. “Death it’s me, know how you asked me to keep on the lookout for that thing?” the voice said with a chorus of ringing in the background.

David, the guy on the other end of the line, was a dirty cop who worked back in Deblo. She had saved the guy a lot of trouble by keeping his name out of her omission, so the guy owed her a load. “Yeah, someone go looking for me?” she said now making sure to keep quiet. “Yeah, some people called the JSF, they’re calling you back,” he paused for a second, “looks like the case is classified, low level blue collars can’t get to it.” She thought for a minute before replying, “alright, thanks,” and hung up before anything else could be said.

Sighing she worked her way back to the room, stone cold demeanor gone and replace with a look of concern. It looked like she was going back to being boring simple Mehande, if only for a time…..

by **Strykla** » Fri Dec 31, 2010 3:21 pm

(bump)

by **Kreigan** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 2:49 pm

Strykla wrote:Sheppard smashed the beer bottle on his forehead and ordered another. Around him, people in the bar were laughing.
He'd been coming to bars ever since he'd lost so much of his body. Instead of waiting for the depression to come, which he'd rather avoid, he'd taken up drinking.
As the shards of glass flew everywhere, one man snarled. He was a large, tough-looking person who seemed to have a set against Stryklans, as he'd been voicing his opinion against them in the bar, but Sheppard hadn't risen to the bait. As he turned, Sheppard saw a nasty cut from one of the shards. The man took out a pistol and set it on the table. "Russian roulette," he said. Sheppard laughed and picked up the pistol, a .44 revolver. The man put a bullet on the table. Sheppard said, "Fourty-fours are shit, but I'll still do it." Sheppard put the bullet in one of the cylinders and spun it. Placing the muzzle on his chin, he pulled the trigger. Click. The man snatched the gun out of his hand and opened the cylinders. The bullet fell out. "You rigged it! It was in backwards!" Of course, there was no way to prove it, and Sheppard was drunk anyway. He was probably just looking for a fight. "Ha!" Shepard said. The man roared and swung a fist at him. Sheppard fell back off the stool and hit the ground. As he got up, the man swung another fist, but Sheppard saw it coming and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and throwing the man around into a phone booth, crushing it. The guy screamed and charged him. Sheppard smashed a fist into his shoulder and kicked into his shin, tripping him. Sheppard, using his metal arm, brought a fist down into his chest, breaking a few ribs.
Than, as Sheppard was about to break his jaw, powerful hands grabbed his shoulders, evidently the guy's buddies. "I think we need to take this outside, robot guy." One said.
When they got into a back alley, two guys grabbed his arms and held them back. They were typical gangsters. One hit him in the stomach, making him double over. "We need to teach you a lesson, robo boy." He hit him in the jaw.
After a few more swings, one intentionally hitting him in the scar on his face, Sheppard gathered his strength. He hooked his foot around one of his "jailer's" legs, and tripped him. Now his right hand was free, and he brought it down into the other guy's faces, probably breaking off a few teeth. The man who was hitting him tried to ram Sheppard, but he pushed him to the ground.
The guy who he'd tripped got up now, and was running toward him. Sheppard brought his arm around and clotheslined him. Sheppard than took the guy he'd first brought to the ground and broke his arm. Than he broke a few ribs. "Bustin' heads," as some called it.
A few minutes later, he left, leaving the three he'd battered, and a few more gangsters, crumpled on the ground in some alleyway. Maybe he'd killed them. Maybe he'd maimed them. Who knew. He was tired of fighting, all the killing he'd seen, but at the same time he couldn't get enough. It was his life. He sat down on a bench as it started to rain. Looking at his watch, it was 4300 hours, 4:30 in the morning. He put his face in his palms. Than the alcohol caught up with him, and a few minutes later he was passed out on the bench in the rain.

OOC: What the hell why were waiting Ill do somthing
IC: A van pulled up near the bench and came to a halt. The rain continued to pour as 2 men inside the van loaded Silenced SOCOM pistols. "Alright are you sure that man out there is apart of JSF?" One of the men wearing a balaclava asked. "Yes, im positive, after the shit he pulled at the bar hes definetly not a normal civilian" The other masked man replied. "Alright, you better be sure." the other man said sliding open the van door slowly. The 2 men stepped out as the driver waited looking out the passenger window which was tinted. The 2 men walked up the man on the bench and the one man pulled out a sedative needle and walked forward was the other kept his pistol aimed at him. The maskeed man with the sedative came close and then lunged the needle quickly at the mans arm hanging over the side as the other man looked to both sides to see if anyone was watching.

by **Strykla** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 2:54 pm

Sheppard woke just as the man started to lunge. He started to bring his arm up but the man stabbed the needle in. By some stroke of luck for the guy, the needle landed in his normal arm. Sheppard still managed to sluggishly bring his other arm up in an attempt to smash the man's face in, but he fell off the bench instead. As the sedative took effect, Sheppard gathered his remaining strength and did his best to trip the man.

by **Kreigan** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 2:59 pm

Strykla wrote:Sheppard woke just as the man started to lunge. He started to bring his arm up but the man stabbed the needle in. By some stroke of luck for the guy, the needle landed in his normal arm. Sheppard still managed to sluggishly bring his other arm up in an attempt to smash the man's face in, but he fell off the bench instead. As the sedative took effect, Sheppard gathered his remaining strength and did his best to trip the man.

The man fell back as he was tripped and feel with a thud on the concrete. The other man ran up and attempted to bring his foot down on sheppards face as the man with the empy sedative syringe got back up and put the needle away.

by **Strykla** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 3:01 pm

Sheppard was already passed out as the man kicked Sheppard in the face. (nuttin' else to say)

by **Kreigan** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 3:11 pm

Strykla wrote:Sheppard was already passed out as the man kicked Sheppard in the face. (nuttin' else to say)

"Alright lets get him out of here" The man said holstering his pistol. Both men dragged sheppard to the van "jesus this guy is heavy" one of the men said as they put sheppard into the van. "its that damn metal arm of his" the other replied as he put titanium hand shackles on sheppards wrists which linked down and connected to 2 shackles that were placed on his ankles. The van sped off when they got in, speeding down the wet rainy road. after a few hours they pulled into an industrial yard where 5 other men with various weapons also masked came out. Sheppard was taken out of the van and dragged off to a room in the factory and thrown on the floor. There was a camera looking down at him and a speaker comm. Some masked men and a man in a cloak were sitting and watching sheppard from another room as he lay in the room passed out. they would wait for him to gain concious before they would begin the interrogation.

by **Strykla** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 3:55 pm

Sheppard woke. He said, "Who is this?" He still felt somewhat drunk.

by **Kreigan** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 4:54 pm

Strykla wrote:Sheppard woke. He said, "Who is this?" He still felt somewhat drunk.

The man in the cloak pushed a button on the console as he watched the screen of sheppard. "Hello sheppard, good to see your awake. You can call me fox and this can either end the painful way or the quickway for you depending on if you tell us what we want to know"

by **Strykla** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 5:48 pm

OOC: Black ops deja vu
IC: "Fuck you. I'm telling you nothing," Sheppard said, testing the bonds.

by **Rodama** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 7:11 pm

JSF Main Base

One flight later Mehande was now back on base, and looking around the new compound she liked the changes she saw. She had already been shown her room and had to admit that she liked it a lot, it was a bit bigger and gave her more space to work then before. Then after unpacking she headed for the control room, that had been where she was told to go and she was a bit early. All things considered though she was good with being early for once and getting a cup of coffee later.

Contrary to her original beliefs it took her another half hour or so to even find the control room, but even then she still seemed to be a bit early. So finding a seat she crossed one leg over the other and settled in, she didn't know anyone here and no one was moving to speak. She fought off the urge to fall asleep, jet lag was not her friend.

by **Phonencia** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 8:25 pm

Bedke scratched at the stubble of hair on his chin, He looked far different from the young, vibrant, pilot of Grey Paladin. He squinted, racking his brain for the answer then remembered. "Mehande."
he said. "It's good to see you again,"
He placed his helmet on the table.

by **Obamacain** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 8:58 pm

York, who was sitting in Tomas' seat, watched the new arrival and turned to greet her, "Mehande good to see you again. I believe we met before in Operation Grey Paladin when I told you to go rescue Bedke. You did a fine job as we can tell by our other friend here," York said gesturing to Bedke. Seeing how not many recognized who he was he decided to clarify the situation, "I'm afraid Tomas did not show up for his check in at our base in Obamacain. He's been like this lately. Last time we found him past out drunk in some bar. Though I like the guy I have to say if he keeps acting like that he might just get kicked off the squad. As for Obamacain's contribution to the JSF I am sorry to say that for now we can not substitute an agent. I would fill in but I am afraid I do not have the training or the heart that my brother and others like you had. Until Tomas or another suitable agent shows up we will only be able to supply soldiers for basic defense."

by **Phonencia** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 9:16 pm

"Yeah, thanks again for that."
Bedke said, he took out a cigarette,
"You mind sir?"
he asked. His voice seemed slower, older than Grey Paladin. It was clear the man'd become old before his time.

by **Rodama** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 10:19 pm

Mehande simply gave a curt nod to Bedke, he had almost gotten a lot of people killed on Paladin. To be quite honest she didn't know what or how he'd done over the past two years, or if he'd gotten any better at taking orders, but she honestly didn't give a flying f*ck either.

Then she turned to York who apparently knew Thomas, and though it took her a minute she did remember him well enough. "It's good to see you too, and thanks for the commendation but shouldn't you have men out looking for him?" the news about Thomas was worrying, they'd worked together a few times and she liked the guy. If something happened to him... well, she might actually care. Finding friends here wasn't easy and she was thankful to count Thomas among those few that she did have, even when he knew a lot more about her then most people did. She wasn't exactly someone that you wanted around reputation-wise after you got past the first few layers.

by **Kreigan** » Sat Jan 01, 2011 11:42 pm

Strykla wrote:OOC: Black ops deja vu
IC: "Fuck you. I'm telling you nothing," Sheppard said, testing the bonds.

"I see, we'll just have to do it the hard way" Fox replied with a sinister smile on his face. 2 men walked in, one pulling a cart with instruments. He had an apron on and a mask with a white skull covering the front of hit. He pulled out a knife as the other man pulled down a hook attached to a chain on the ceiling and attached it to sheppards handcuffs. He then walked over and pulled a switch which pulled the hook up and then stopped when sheppard was dangling a little bit off the floor. The other man walked over and lit a cigarette and took a puff. After a few moments he took the lit part that was left and pushed it at shepards eye.

by **Strykla** » Sun Jan 02, 2011 6:40 am

Sheppard saw him try to put his cigarette out in Sheppard's only remaining eye. Sheppard snarled and used his being hung up to swing back and than kick the man as he was swinging forward.

by **Dimoniquid** » Sun Jan 02, 2011 6:56 am

Colonel James Barcon had woken from his sleep. The visions of interrogation had gotten to him - luckily it was only a dream. He moved to the meeting room, sliding his GLOCK "GENERATION 4", something just invented and he had managed to get his hands on. He undid his top button of his BDU, and walked in. "Who's in charge of this operation?" He asked, taking a seat and waiting, opposite the vice colonel. "You almost remind me of a friend I had. A good friend." He said to him.

by **Obamacain** » Sun Jan 02, 2011 8:37 am

"Of course we are on the look out for him. We should have him within a few hours by checking his credit card payments or just checking in on some bars in the area. The problem is most of our force is trying to retake a rebel city. It was quite embarrassing for our army to have one of our cities taken over by some wild rebels with sticks and will be a stain on our reputation for a while so we are trying to re-control the city and have almost all of our attention on that matter," York said in a dire tone, "not to mention the General of our forces is now considered KIA so we have to get past that obstacle as well. He had control over most of our intelligence offices which can hinder our search for Tomas."

York then turned to the Colonel and recognizing him as Barcon he answered his question, "There is no current operation. However, we are mobilizing our agents because we have received some reports that Cobra may be becoming at large once more. Lynch will brief you once he arrives. I believe you may remember my brother, James. Young fellow, though smart and a little cocky. Always wanted to be at the front of the action and that turned out to be what knocked him off in the end. Glad to meet someone that served with him," York said extending his hand to shake Barcon's.

by **Kreigan** » Sun Jan 02, 2011 1:12 pm

Strykla wrote:Sheppard saw him try to put his cigarette out in Sheppard's only remaining eye. Sheppard snarled and used his being hung up to swing back and than kick the man as he was swinging forward.

The man fell back, the cigarette hit the floor. He quickly got up and the other man came over and took a punch at shepards face with brass knuckles. The man with the apron prepared a needle which contained truth serum.

Operation White Falcon (closed JSF only)

Operation White Falcon (closed JSF only)

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