Sun, Sea and Oil Sands [PMC RP] [IC]

[Bolslania]

Tarvo Kärkkäinen
Fireteam Red, Anubis
June 13th, 2018
19:50

---

As the adrenaline wore off Tarvo realized just how much pain he was in. His eyes were swollen and streaming with tears from the CS gas drifting through the air, the rag was doing an ok job of filtering the CS gas and protecting his lungs from the effects of the gas. He refrained from rubbing at his eyes. There was no use in it.

Tarvo, pop that blue at them if you still have it," he ordered

"Copy that, one blue smoke coming up." Tarvo said, his voice strained with pain. He flicked the activation switch for the grenade launcher and braced the rifle against his shoulder. Through the gas-induced tears Tarvo could see the rising look of fear in the crowd's faces. He made some aiming adjustments and fired. With a Ploomp the 40mm blue smoke was on the range, landing perfectly where Tarvo wanted it to, at the protestors feet, but away from any source of fire. With a pop the grenade went off, blue smoke filtering in to the air. There was no injury caused to the crowd but still, some screamed in shock and surprise as they backed away from the grenade.

Tarvo lowered his rifle and turned back to AJ.

"Hey boss, my eyes are fucked up. I've got to get out of the gas." He said. His voice was a mix of pain and shame. Pain at the effects of the gas on his body, and shame because his failure to bring a gas mask meant that he was, at least in his mind, failing Red Team by needing to clear the road.

[Soviet Farm]

Mirjana "Merge" Višnjić
Sunday, June 13th 2018
Quiet for now

Merge was too busy making sure that Tarv's arm would actually function to deal with the last of the gunmen so Mike stepping in to handle it was very welcome indeed. She heard his call-out about being pinned down and then the sound of desperate blind firing in hopes of unpinning himself. However many bullets it took him to deal with the problem he did manage to get it done, the street now once against free of any bastards with high powered weaponry. Present company excluded of course.

"With how things are going the fucker's gonna come back from the dead, probably pulling another ten guys out his ass."

Lingering pain notwithstanding Tarvo's arm would be fine. The makeshift medic turned her attention to the civilian clubbing team leader, flashing a thumbs at the order to cover the alley. She had a clear line of sight down it and anyone still interested in causing a scene would find themselves quickly catching a bellyful of 5.7x28mm.

We'll fire gas, and make a move for their guns before anyone gets to them. Do we have overwatch?"

If these people were still hanging around to watch the fireworks Merge kind of doubted that another helping of crowd-control magic would finally chase them off but no matter. Blue smoke began to fill the street as she pushed up to the first corpse and snagged the weapon. "Picked up the rifle. Are we gonna in with Blue or are we hanging out here?"

[Ubaria]

Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:50 local time
Downtown Suano

The ad-hoc entryway was perhaps 5ft in height and barely wide enough to fit the operators or their gear through, the shuttering had been forced open by some manner of muscle powered tools and so the edges were sharp and exposed, presenting a possible risk of laceration. Gideon edged as close as he dared to the threshold and took a quick peek around the edge, ensuring anything wasn't immediately awaiting them on the other side. Most of the interior space was occluded in darkness, only the flittering technicolor flashes of the disco hall's still active lightshow offered brief glimpse of indiscernible shapes inside, overturned tables and smashed glasses littered the floor and an impromptu barricade had been made out of stacked chairs and bar stools. What more, over the chest pounding bass of the still running music, shouting was barely audible, multiple voices bounced back and forth from separate areas inside the club.

None of this was an ideal scenario, yet time dictated a hasty and ill-prepared assault. Gideon turned around at the assembly of teammates that had arrived to aid in the endeavour, Pavel, Yuval and Lesley had all managed to make their way across.

"There's still guys inside. Looks like there's some cover in the form of some pillars about nine or ten foot up the way, though i can't get eyes on anything either side. Bang on three. Myself and Pavel go left. Les. Yuval, you hook right. Assume anything beyond here is hostile." Gideon's voice was muffled by the music and his gas mask, though hopefully the message carried through.

Passing Lesley a flashbang, Gideon bought his rifle to bear, focus trained on the apex of the entryway.

"One .. two ... "

[Cylarn]

1951
13 June 2018
Suaco, San Marlín
Arthur "AJ" Irvine


The sound of a plonk, perforated by a slight cracking sound, rung out behind AJ, but he refused to divert attention to it. Another sound caught his attention; the clanking of what sounded like a collection of cans falling over - or knocked over. Tarvo called out just as Merge picked up the first AK; his decision to not pack a mask had caught up to him. And these army pukes like to brag about their handful of minutes spent on a gas chamber. Try twelve hours in a riot, and then come talk to me. Nevertheless, AJ recognized the seriousness of Tarvo's reported injury. It made him a liability. Merge also piped in, asking what they would ultimately be doing. Is it not clear?

"Tarvo, get the Shogun between you and them, throw some water in your eyes," AJ called out, still training his M4 on the alley. "If you are bleeding from the eyes, get to Quinn and overwatch."

"Merge, hold there."

AJ stepped over to the second corpse, giving it a firm kick. No response; AJ kept his M4 leveled but released his left hand as he bent down beside beside the corpse, picking up the second AK. Stepping backwards, he moved back to the first corpse, where he dropped the AK at Merge's feet.

"We stay here and collect the rifles, so we don't get lit up again."

Just as AJ spoke those reassuring words, the exact wrong move was made by the mob. A handful of four individuals began to saunter over towards the final corpse. AJ bounded forward with quick steps and took one sidestep to his left. He took aim at the man closest to the corpse.

"Merge, watch my right!" AJ switched to Spanish, drawing closer to the four. "Armed Security! Step away to the other side of the street!"

Three of them complied; AJ noticed the man furthest from the corpse, standing still but staring at the ground near the corpse. Not another step. Do not go for it. Please, do not pick up thag weapon. I will kill you. AJ brought his barrel downrange to the final individual and stopped.

"Do you want to die? Get the fuck out of here, asshole! I will shoot!"

In an instant, the man rushed to his right, towards the corpse. His hands outstretched towards the final AK, he fell short of his goal when two rifle rounds perforated his chest cavity. The wounded man fell over, and AJ fired two more rounds to follow up his attack, putting a premature end to any painful death-thrashing. Even more jeers broke out in response, but seven people broke off from the crowd. Sirens rung out in the distance.

Before AJ could properly assess his kill, a figure bolted from the alley. An angry primordial sense told AJ to move in on him; the figure carried an AK by his side, and it was evident that the pistol grip was not being held. AJ rushed forward in a dead sprint and struck the man in the chest with the frame of his M4. With the force behind his attack, AJ toppled the remaining gunman to his hands and knees. AJ gave a mighty stomp to his back, forcing him onto his stomach. The gunman brought his hands up to his head to protect himself, away from the AK. AJ heard a wheeping sound.

"Please, do not shoot! I surrender!" the gunman called out.

AJ wasted no time; he slung the M4 behind his arm and straddled the gunman as he forcefully grabbed his right arm and forced it behind his back. AJ pulled it tight as to cause some pain. His thumbs pressed hard into the gunman's wrist.

"Do not fucking move a muscle! What is your name?"

"Aurelio!"

"Do what I say! Let your arms go limp, or I break your right arm.

AJ reached to his vest and drew out a flex-cuff. He looped one cuff around the wrist and pinned his arm tight. Grabbing the left arm, he forced it into the remaining cuff, pulling the cuffs tight. AJ looked over at the crowd, partially obscured by blue smoke. No one was particularly itching to move on him, but everyone in the mob shouted obscenities, some aimed at AJ's heritage. He ignored it all, and put a hand on the left shoulder over the captive.

"Merge, call this in," AJ hollered. "Roll onto your side, bitch! Tuck your knees into your chest!"

The frightened, shaking captive allowed AJ to roll him onto his side. He immediately tucked his knees into his chest.

"Now I am going to lift you onto your feet."

After a short strain of effort, AJ and his captive were on their feet. Holding the man by both arms, AJ practically dragged him over to the Shogun and threw the captive to the ground. He hollered out in pain, and gave a loud grunt. AJ keyed his mic, taking command of his M4 in his right hand, barrel leveled at the captive.

"AJ here. Bring the second Shogun around if the street is clear. Pull up to the front of the club."

[Bolslania]

Tarvo Kärkkäinen
Fireteam Red, Anubis
June 13th, 2018
19:51

"Copy that." Tarvo said. He trusted the former police officer's word on responding to tear gas, unscrewing the top of his canteen and splashing the water on his eyes.

That's the shit He thought as some of the pain was alleviated. It would be good enough for him to see long enough for them to wrap this up. Hopefully. He covered AJ as he apprehended a gunman. Tarvo switched his attention to covering Merge as she collected the AKs that were sitting at her feet. He threw a quick glance over at the crowd, the combination of smoke and AJ dropping another guy was eliminating their interest in being aggressive. Good, Tarvo didn't want to shoot anyone else today.

[Kyraina]

Heaven Kimberly Andrei

Heaven slowly came to, and her head was pounding, and our vision was swimming in and out of focus.

"Cine ești tu? Unde sunt? De ce mă doare capul?"

Heaven's snapped into focus and saw Quinn over her. She immediately freaked and tried to get away only to resize she was wrapped in a blanket

"Mamă, tată Unde ești? MAMICA !!! TATA!! Cine dracu ești?"

The confusion was apperent in her eyes and her voice was laced with anger and confusion, but only for a second, as she she started coughing, and quickly got out of the blanket to roll over and vomit on the roof.

She rolled back over and laid back down on her back. Her vision started to swim again. She passed out, started to sweat, and started muttering in both Romanian and English.

---

Joseph "Bear who Flys" Bridges

Bear had grabbed Heaven's rifle and had set up overwatch, but had heard the commutation that had happened.

"Quinn, that ain't good. She speaking Romanian. We need to sedate and to ease her pain. You have any Toradol in there?"

He scared the streets and alleys, while he also listened to the Comms, and waited for the pilot to come on comms, or To hear the sound of a Helo. As Bear scanned he noticed Tarvo down in the street washing his eyes out with Water, but still near Tear Gas. He keyed his Radio.

"Tarvo get your ass up here, and get my gas and googles. You'll do more harm then good with out a fucking mask and goggles."

[Vacif]

Ricardo Pardo
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:52 local time
FOB Tempest

---

It had been a fairly easy day, outside of a simple pre-planned transport job earlier in the day, Ricardo hadn't really done much. After enjoying a nice meal courtesy of his employer, he was lounging in the recreation room playing pool with his co-pilot when his phone began to buzz wildly, just as he was about to take his turn. Ricardo scrunched his face as he stood up and reached into his butt pocket. His twitter feed was blowing up. Swiping his thumb across the bottom, his feed was filled with videos and pictures of downtown Suano. He knew it was downtown Suano because he'd been to the club being pictured. And what he saw made his heart sink.

"What's up?"

"Uhh, shit." Ricardo rubbed his mouth and chin as he watched the first video. It was a large crowd of people chanting, yelling and trying to gain entry into Castillo. Elias came around the table to see what was on the phone. Suddenly a few very familiar faces popped up, shouting, shoving and very soon shooting. Scrolling through the next few posts and videos, the same incident from different views and angles, masked gun men, people with gun shot wounds, burn wounds, tear gas, a shit show was an understatement.

"Holy fuck dude." Elias whispered. The two were enamored by the feed, watching as a man trying to throw a Molotov was shot and soon immolated. Then the radio came to life, calling them in for a medevac. The two wordlessly put the phone away and sprinted towards the helicopter pad. Everything had already been checked for them, their stuff was already there and everything was prepared for an emergency take off. The two clambered into the pilot seats and began their take off procedures. As they did so a late arrival made their way to their helicopter.

[Bolslania]

Tarvo Kärkkäinen
Fireteam Red, Anubis
June 13th, 2018
19:51

---

"Tarvo get your ass up here, and get my gas and googles. You'll do more harm then good with out a fucking mask and googles." Tarvo heard in his earpiece as Bear yelled at him. He keyed his mic and replied.

"Copy that Bear, on my way back to you. Don't shoot me." He said. Turning to AJ he said

"Back in a minute!" Before he turned and sprinted back across the street, careful to avoid the bodies and debris strewn across the road. He reached the alleyway, where the CS gas hadn't quite reached and began to flap his arms like he had been trained to do in the army. After a moment of that he keyed his mic again.

"Bear, Quinn, I'm coming up now." He said, beginning his ascent as fast as he could. He took the stairs two at a time. He threw a glance at Heaven once he reached the top of the building. She looked alive, albeit definitely worse for the wear. He took the gas mask and goggles from Bear, securing them to his head as he spoke.

"Thanks Bear, I'll make sure you get these back." With a final nod he was back down the stairs, moving as fast as he could to get back to AJ and Merge. The mask and goggles made the CS gas much more tolerable. It was a welcome change compared to the rag he had been wearing earlier. He knelt behind the Shogun once again returning to his position of covering Merge and AJ.

[Ubaria]

Gideon Van-Lingen
Lesley Sarah Rutledge
Yuval Feldman
Pavel Innokentievich Koussevitzky
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:51 local time
Downtown Suano

Lesley hurriedly joined the stack at the entrance to the nightclub, preparing herself for the assault through the front entrance, which was a five-foot high, tight gap in a security fence cut with power tools. From inside, the sound of bass punctuated the squawk of the crowd outside, lights inside dazzling to the rhythm of the electronic beats. Lesley knew it would be a hard push, one that would typically require more people, but unfortunately, they were limited in both time and personnel. They had to act, and fast. She took the flashbang handed back to her, pulling the pin as the countdown began. At two, she released the priming lever, the small piece of metal popping from its fixture as she tossed the grenade into the hole. Less than a second passed before the device let loose a series of its chaotic cries and flashes, blinding anyone inside.

Moments after the muffled thump of the flashbang detonating resounded through the portal, Pavel moved into the room. During the short time he had been with WhiteTree, he had been somewhat forced to relearn room entry in the name of operational ease. The NATO system and Russian system were largely similar, but just different enough to cause issues. Of course, Pavel being Pavel, only really picked up on the broad strokes of where to go and how to move through room after room in the American fashion. As the man ducked right into the lobby, and strode over to the wall, a swathe of light flashed from deeper in the club, and bathed one of the pillars in a technicolor mix of purple and green. Illuminating a man barely hidden behind the wood and concrete structure. Pavel’s grip tightened on his rifle in a specific way as he swung over, light now resoundly illuminating the contact and casting a semi human outline on the wall in the background. Pavel fired two rounds, the first struck the man in the arm, the second went wide, boring a fist sized chunk out of the pillar and cracking a few hardwood panels off.

The contact’s rifle clattered to the floor, as in a panic, he made a mad dash towards the room’s connection to the dance floor. Pavel fired another round into the man’s lower back, near the kidney, and the man dropped like a sack of rocks, his momentum carrying him away from Pavel’s line of sight. The only sign to Pavel that his shot connected properly was the resounding bang of a man slamming into what seemed like a stack of chairs or something. As Pavel approached his position between the door and the corner of the room, he could hear the choked sobs of the man he had probably just paralyzed. He said no words, simply gesturing at the rifle on the floor, obviously indicating for someone to police it, or at least render it imminently inoperable.

Gideon followed Pavel in close behind as he tackled the breach, quickly they both cleared the fatal funnel and moved into the murky unknown further beyond. Darting quickly left, Van-lingen struggled to see in the shrouded interior of the lobby, the only lighting so to speak was the dazzling hues of a discotec flashing all manner of fluorescent lights in the room beyond. Before they advanced any further, Pavel opened fire on a target attempting to flee further into the building, but his escape was cut dramatically short by a series of rapid shots that sent the target reeling to the floor, a sickening death rattle filling the smoke imbued air.

"One down. Rifle here." Gideon approached up the left hand side of the lobby to secure the weapon, though quickly paused to ensure nobody was hiding behind the front desk counter in ambush. As he peered over, Gideon noticed a pool of red liquid soaking into the beaten carpeting, accompanied by a series of long streaks leading over to a door just beyond the counter and into another nearby room, bloody handprints also barely visible on the doors face and handle.

"Blood. Somebody was shot. Drag marks go towards that door. We may have wounded. Eyes peeled" Gideon flagged the door with his weapon light to indicate the direction before he proceeded up to the pillar. The weapon on the floor was another Kalashnikov, Gideon kicked the weapon back down the lobby with his heel.

Yuval entered the breach at the end of the stack, quickly cutting right towards the near corner of the room. Her training would have dictated attempting to visually clear the room as much as possible prior to making entry but time was of the essence here.

The interior of the club was a typical affair of flashing multicolored lighting and thumping bass. Even with active ear protection she still felt as if she would have the shout over the music just to be heard. Alongside the blasting of electronic dance music, she could hear the reports of Pavel’s Kalashnikov and the grotesque sounds of a man at the end of his life. She did not look that way however, not out of disgust but in order to maintain eyes on her sector of the room. She scanned across to the left side, paying special attention to the window of the front office to ensure nobody popped out. Gideon had of course already cleared the desk, but his report of blood trains behind the desk made her worry that someone could ambush from that position.

With the lobby secure, Yuval moved up to join the rest of the entry team near the doors to the main club floor while keeping her weapon trained on the front desk. “What are we going to do about the desk area? Call in someone from outside to cover it?” She called to the rest of her team. Gideon approached the set of varnished double doors that led into the nightclub proper; they were slightly propped open allowing a small gaze into the room beyond. It was difficult to make out shapes, but a short distance past the doors were yet another set of pillars, no doubt with somebody hiding behind each. Tables and chairs were strewn about the place and the floor glistened slightly with smashed glass, spilled alcohol and perhaps fresh blood.

Gideon’s ear pricked at the sound of crunching glass to his immediate left, in addition to clearer voices shouting in Spanish, accompanied with the thud of what sounded like someone beating on metal. He turned back to the team.

“Audible contact on our immediate left, they’re probably watching this door. Looks like an open space beyond into the club.. How do we want to play this? Les, any ideas?”

Lesley considered the options. She knew securing the club floor would be an arduous task. A large, open, and dark space with elevated areas and no intelligence would be a nightmare. Only thing left to do in that situation was act fast, the blood trail only made things worse. “We just need to bang it and move fast, clear the corners, watch the elevated positions. Longer we wait, the longer they get dug in." Lesley added, turning to briefly face the front desk. “Yuval’s got a point, and we might want to get some of red’s lads in here anyway if things go tits up.”
“AJ. We need someone to keep our rear secure. Whoever’s up and not doing anything, tell them to keep eyes on the lobby.” Gideon hoped that Red could continue to handle anything that would occur outside in the meanwhile. “Same plan. I’ll hook left, Pavel you go right with Yuval. Looks like there’s a balcony of some sort on the right, watch the high ground. Yuval, bang short of those pillars.”

Yuval's flashbang detonated and Gideon wasted no time in barging through the door, carefully dodging the ad-hoc barrier of chairs and tables partially blocking the way. As he swept his weapon around, Gideon caught the glimpse of a figure shifting in his peripheral vision and instantly snapped his aim toward it, using his weapon light as a guide. His sights settled on the figure of a gunman lurking behind the bar, the flashbang had startled him but hadn't completely taken effect. Kalashnikov fire erupted from behind the counter, a little wide of Gideon but still smashed a series of drinks still sat atop the bar, sending a cascade of glass flying through the air. Gideon returned fire in kind, pulsing the trigger of his OSW whilst trying to push himself out of the danger zone.

Bottles and glasses popped like balloons at a fairground game and bullets from all angles pounded into the drywall. Through the haze of forming gunsmoke, the South African managed to place a final round into the chest of his opponent, a yelp of air escaping his now perforated lung, the physical shock of the round sending the man reeling to the floor.

Yet there was no time for pause, another pair of gunmen had bunkered themselves down behind another set of spaced pillars not too far of the door, making themselves as minimal of a target as possible. One had overturned a wooden table and was using it as cover whilst two rushed to the edge of a nearby balcony, suppressing those coming through the door. Gideon swiftly mantled the bar in a singular gymnast like motion and threw himself in a much less graceful manner to the ground, ignoring the stinging pain of alcohol soaked glass shards slicing up his exposed forearms. Bullets slammed into the thick wood of the bar, though thankfully it was thick enough that their rounds failed to punch through, however he doubted his cover would last.

[Cylarn]

1952
13 June 2018
Suaco, San Marlín
Arthur "AJ" Irvine


As Tarvo passed up to the roof, Gideon's voice entered AJ's ear. Blue needed reinforcements for their movement into the club. AJ furrowed his brow; the crowd was not as reactive, or as massive as it once was, but Red still found itself outnumbered and holding a dangerous position. Most were looking on, a few were still shouting. On top of that, AJ and his team now had a detainee to manage. AJ looked over at the masked man, laying shaken in the gutter. The Jamaican looked to Merge.

"Go back up Blue," he ordered, keying his mic. "Roger Blue, sending one in now. Anubis, Gid, be advised: we have one enemy combatant in our custody."

Amid the noxious clouds of smoke still swirling about, and the near-constant jeering, the sirens could be heard. AJ suspected that since WhiteTree did not technically have any arrest or detention powers outside of Taxom property, the police had no qualms about taking the detainee. AJ, on the other hand, wanted to know more. He lowered his weapon and took hold of Aurelio with his left hand.

"On your feet, Aurelio," AJ ordered. Aurelio slowly got up, but struggled to keep up as AJ yanked him onto his feet. The Jamaican pulled his captive around to the opposite side of the Shogun, and shoved Aurelio down onto the ground. The masked gunman complied, albeit out of fear and exhaustion.

"Sit up against the car and look forward."

AJ reached down and pulled away the mask. Before him was a tan-skinned, strong-jawed man with a clean high-and-tight. South American. AK drew out his cell phone and switched go the camera. Within a space of five seconds, AJ snapped a picture of Aurelio and put away his phone. He moved closer and forcefully pushed Aurelio down onto his left side. AJ ran his hand under Aurelio's belt line on his trousers, feeling for anything concealed within. Compact handguns, knives, and even explosives could potentially be concealed. As for AJ's other cop proclivities, AJ took note of the belt. A black rigger belt, a common item for someone who had been a soldier, or a cop, and was still trying to live tactically even in jeans. AJ patted the butt and legs of Aurelio, before stopping at the left ankle. AJ pulled up the leg of Aurelio's jeans, and took possession of a switchblade stuffed into the top of a desert combat boot. There was another clue. If the webbing wasn't a dead give-away, the boots and belt were. The gunmen were trained, prepared for such an engagement.

"You came prepared. What did you come here for?"

Aurelio said nothing, and AJ patted his right pocket. He felt the shape of a small rectangle, and pulled it out. A single flip-phone; in the States, such antiquated phones earned the moniker of "burner." AJ shoved the phone into his pocket, and loosened the straps of Aurelio's webbing to pull it free. Holding up the black webbing vest, AJ felt weight. He allowed his M4 to dangle by his side, and searched through the pockets. Aurelio had four orange bakelite magazines, all stuffed with 7.62mm rounds. A pack of gauze, a tourniquet, and an Israeli bandage made for a meager IFAK; all of the items, judging by the English text on the packaging, were probably of Western manufacture.

Rounds rung out from inside of the club. AJ left the webbing on the ground, and held his M4 by the pistol grip. Once again, he keyed his mic.

"We have shots in the club. Bear, what's the ETA on the bird?"

[Soviet Farm]

Mirjana "Merge" Višnjić
Sunday, June 13th 2018
Moving Up

Hold while the boss kicked at corpses to make sure they were actually dead and not merely good actors, claim all the dropped rifles while Tarvo ran off to get his gassed out eyes dealt with. About what she expected to hear but it was still probably good to ask. With the way things had turned out today Merge would prefer precise instructions when possible if only to minimize her culpability if and when it all went to hell again.

"Merge, watch my right!"

There was the other shoe. Mirjana had barely stooped to pick up the AK her boss had so kindly brought to her before having to snap to attention as AJ snarled at the group in Spanish, weapon at the ready. Whatever the team leader was saying was enough for most of the group to make the right decision, three men crossing back to the side of the street. The fourth took his life into his own hands and lost it, another corpse for local authorities to deal with. Goddamn this was a mess.

A blur of movement in the corner of her eye made her swing around, P90 aimed square at the small of the runner's back before AJ's mad dash forced her to lower it. But the ex-cop didn't need any assistance it seemed, quickly dragging the perp down and getting the cuffs on. "You got it."

Into the club then. Merge moved up past the threshold and eyed the interior, taking cover behind one of the pillars as gunfire lit up the main area ahead.

[Hastur]

Lesley Sarah Rutledge
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:51 local time
Downtown Suano

---

The upsurge of explosions punctuated the pulsing rhythm within the dance hall, a vivid glare of white joining the strobing mingling of colours. Gideon was the first inside, forcing his way past the impromptu barrier of tables and chairs as he cleared left. Gunfire erupted as Lesley made her move, assaulting the room. The club was largely empty, the open space feeling alien as the telltale crack rifle rounds zipped past, a field of fire being laid down on the entryway to force them back. Her eyes snapped onto the source, radiant muzzle flashes clarifying the target between the throbbing technicolour club lights. Two targets clad with masks and load-bearing gear behind either pillar at her front, with one more beyond that taking cover behind an overturned table on the dance floor.

Acting immediately as training kicked in. Lesley thrust up her rifle upward as advanced aggressively to get out of the funnel. Activating the weapon light, the shining silver beam identified the left most shooter as he darted right from shelter to cast out another volley of fire. Reducing the strain from the trigger, she let off a controlled scamper of three blasts. The bark sounding off as all bullets struck their mark in the centre mass as the masked attacker faltered out of sight, collapsing behind the pillar. Her attention hastily shifted to the next target as the second man fired, his rifle poking out from the safety of his cover.

Lesley instinctively weaved right to get out of his line of sight as more rounds came down range. Her breathing becoming irrgular as her aim snapped onto AK wielding male a second too late, the shooter pulling his gun and exposed body back behind the pillar. Without missing a beat, she began laying down a rapid shield of bullets as assaulted down the middle. Pelting his side of the pillar with round after round as she closed the distance. The bullets jolting up a short screen of dust as they pulverised the cement construction. Now only mere feet away, Lesley pushed his right flank, ceasing fire on the left as she whirled round the side, maintaining enough clearance for her rifle as bounded the target. Lesley catching him off guard as attacker sought to take advantage of the lull in fire, realising his mistake only when he caught the advancing woman in his peripheral vision.

Lesley hit him with a salvo of three rounds at close range, rounds hurling into his exposed side. With a curt, agonised yelp, the man tumbled backwards, crashing onto the floor. A moment passed as Lesley took a controlled step forward, delivered a finishing trot of two rounds into the bodies of both attackers, the bolt on her rifle locking back as it fired its last round, Lesley slid into cover behind same pillar, shielding herself from the right side as she began to reload.

[Dayganistan]

Yuval Feldman
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:51 local time

Yuval moved through the doors, into the main club floor. The flashes of LED lights and the thumping of bass mixed with the sounds of gunfire and flashes of rifle muzzles. She raised her rifle and began to scan for targets but the gunfire was over almost as quickly as it began, Lesley and Gideon having dispatched the hostile shooters. Yuval took cover behind one of the pillars and covered her sector, shifting her attention to the second floor of the club where their VIP would be located. More gunfire erupted from the second floor of the club and Yuval aimed her rifle in the direction, firing rapidly. Her rounds struck one of the contacts, causing him to fall but she had no way of confirming that the contact was dead. She decided she need to move.

"I'm bounding to the stairs, cover me," she called to her teammates. She sprinted from cover, her boots making a loud sound as the hit the floor of the club. While moving, she continued to fire her rifle towards the contacts on the second floor to ensure they were suppressed. Within a moment, she had moved across the floor to the base of one of the sets of stairs. She began to quickly scan around her, noting that she had managed to flank the contact which had taken cover behind and overturned table. She tried to fire her rifle only to be greeted with a click. She drew her handgun, shooting three rounds into the target as he was attempting to react to the Israeli woman who had now appeared on his flank. She holstered her handgun, then switched mags for her rifle.

She aimed her rifle towards the top of the staircase, prepared to shoot anyone who came into her sights. With far less LED lights on the second floor of the club it would, however, be more difficult to spot a hostile and she didn't want to activate her weapon light to give away her position just yet. She called to her teammates yet again.

"If you send someone over to me we can get up there and break the fuckboy out."

[Ubaria]

Gideon Van-Lingen
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:53 local time
Downtown Suano

The tangible haze of plaster dust and gunsmoke had begun building up in the heated confines of the club’s main floor, the sparse veil of particulates glittered against the lucent disco downlighting and swirled to the air-punching bassline of the snare-heavy electro beat. Gideon’s chest reverberated to the tempo, his heart seemingly jumping in rhythm with the music, he reminded himself to breathe. Dragging himself to his feet, Gideon covered Lesley as she pressed the attack on the two gunmen hiding behind the nearby pillars, she vehemently strode across the lacquered floor whilst pounding shots in the nearside of the pillars, forcing the gunmen to abate their assault and with urgent haste, she dropped both targets to the floor.

Yuval followed not a moment later, the Israeli dispatching one of the targets up on the second-floor balcony with a well placed shot from her M4 Carbine, causing the man to stagger back from his position, dropping his rifle as they did so. The gunman’s ally, witnessing his compatriots death, darted back from the metal railing to avoid suffering a similar fate, allowing Yuval and Pavel some breathing room as they maneuvered up closer to the second floor. In passing, Yuval dispatched another target hiding behind the ad-hoc barrier of tables and chairs with her handgun, wasting no time in continuing on up to the stair set.

"If you send someone over to me we can get up there and break the fuckboy out."

“Pavel, follow her up.” - Gideon switched channels. “Rayner, i’ve got Yuval and the Russian pushing to your position, get ready to hustle.”

Gideon scanned the room once again to ensure nobody was lurking around, it was difficult given the smoky atmosphere, the volatile lighting situation and the fact that his gas-mask was still stuck to his face offering little in the way of peripheral vision. He could be forgiven for not noticing the figure slinking up from behind sooner, his mitigated awareness rewarding him with what felt like a sledgehammer to the spine, a gunshot panged out from somewhere behind as well as the unmistakable ping sound of metal against metal. Gideon coiled forward, breath driven from his lungs, the only thing stopping his fall was the bartop of which he was thrown towards. The South-African let his gun fall free and instinctively darted his right hand down towards his hip. Only upon feeling the hollow pocket upon where his pistol would usually be holstered did he remember, he had left it in the car.

Not wasting a moment, Gideon wrapped his hand around the first object to his immediate front which happened to be a half poured bottle of Grey Goose, gripping it by the neck, he swung around with the bottle in his outstretched arm, his momentum was abruptly halted as his impromptu weapon connected with the jaw of his masked assailant, pistol in hand.

Both men cried out, the gunman more so as the bottle shattered against the side of his jaw, showering both in a mist of vodka. Another shot sounded as the gunman impulsively squeezed of a shot from his sidearm though it thankfully went wide. Left hand free, Gideon went for the gun, his right hand crossed his chest in an attempt to prevent the gunman from raising his weapon. The attacker fought back, jerking his head forward in an attempt to butt Gideon away, though caught his forehead on the gasmask’s respirator, essentially causing more damage to himself than his opponent. The two jostled for control of the weapon, dragging one another over the bar tops and shelving, knocking off anything that happened to still be standing. Eventually, Gideon sensed an opening, quite literally. Bringing his right knee up, it connected with the gunman’s nether regions and caused him to yelp and double over in agony, wasting no time Gideon mantled his crippled opponent and ripped the pistol from his contorted hand, subsequently using it as a bludgeon, impacting the man’s temple with the hilt of the pistol to render a state of unconsciousness.

“Agh … get the fucking kid!” Gideon pulled his mask from his face and laboured for air, the stale atmosphere not doing much favours for his troubled lungs.

“Les’ … hold that door. Anything comes through it … put a bullet in it.” He winced, gesturing over to the staff room door, pulling a particularly large shard of glass out of his forearm.

As Pavel and Yuval tussled with the last gunman between them and the manager’s office, Gideon turned and investigated the door in which the gunman had used to sneak up on him. A small connecting door between the bar and the stock room had been propped open with a fire extinguisher and as Gideon cautiously peered through, noticed a doubled over figure, crumpled against some metal fixtures, their clothing suggested they weren’t one of the gunmen but infact probably one of the bar staff that had the misfortune to get caught up in the fighting and was probably the source of the blood they had come across earlier.

Gideon was about to write the figure off as a corpse until it moved, a whisper of pain escaping the woman’s lips.

“I've got wounded in here. I need a medic on my position!”

Gideon rushed over to the figure, a woman in perhaps her mid-twenties had a gunshot wound to her upper abdomen, the entry wound visible through her bloodsoaked navy blue top, by the looks of it, she had already lost a worrying amount of blood. Gideon pulled out a pre-packaged roll of gauze from a pouch on his hip and ripped it open with his teeth, quickly applying it to the wound site.

“You’re ok sister. Keep pressure on the wound. Ok? Mantén esto aquí. Estas Bein” He attempted to reassure here with the little Spanish he knew, folding her own hands down over the dressing Gideon had just placed.

“AJ. How’s the situation outside?”

Back at the main floor of the club, the staff room door that Gideon had tasked Lesley with began to jostle, muffled screaming and shouting in Spanish was barely audible coming from the other side and flits of movement could be glimpsed at through the grubby porthole located on the top section of the door, though not enough to discern anything clearly happening on the other side. Seconds later the door flung open, a pair of individuals stumbled out seemingly locked together, quickly it was apparent that one had the other in a form of grapple. A gunman had taken another woman, one of the club's workers, hostage. One arm coiled around her neck and the other hand had a pistol firmly planted against her skull, the man began shouting in frantic Spanish towards Lesley.

"Baja el arma o mataré a esta perra! Joder, hazlo o la mataré. ¡Tienes cinco segundos! ... Cinco ... Cuatro ... Tres"

---
Outside

As the frantic calamity calmed and the coolness of the night began taking a hold, sirens were audible in the not too far distance, though their arrival was somewhat unavailing as the pitch of the mob had all but fizzled out into a handful of thugs now scarpering into the gloom that the huddle of post-colonial sprawl offered.

A minute or so later and the pulse of blue sweeping lights lit up the streets, their progress being tracked by the growing sound of sirens and a voice shouting orders to disperse in a mix of English and Caribbean Spanish, they managed to clear the carnival crowds which had gathered in the other areas of town and made their way down the street towards Red.

The first vehicle, a beefed up armored security van, pulled up just short of Red team and their parked vehicles. Behind, six blue and black pickup trucks fanned out to block the street and offloaded a complement of twenty or so policemen, armed with a plethora of antiquated riflery, some sporting a circular perspex riot shield and baton. All wore a mish-mash of blue, black and camo styled clothing, though all sported a black vest with ‘Policía’ printed on the front and rear. They noticed Red immediately and approached in a loose line formation, some detaining stragglers as they advanced, their attention being piqued by the dull thuds of gunshots emanating from inside the nightclub.

Quickly, before any tempers had time to flare again once more, the passenger side door of the armored van swung open and out stepped a figure, rather portly, wearing a uniform with stripes and decorations that pinned him as some sort of officer. He raised a hand, indicating for his men to step down and so the group slowly lowered their weapons.

“May i speak to your commanding officer?” He approached to within a couple dozen foot of Red, speaking in a rather thick Caribbean accent, glancing between the operators from behind a set of tinted aviator frames. His demeanour was rather relaxed given the situation, though his right hand was firmly planted on the hilt of a holstered revolver on his thigh.

[Kyraina]

Joseph "Bear who Flys" Bridges

"We have shots in the club. Bear, what's the ETA on the bird?"

Bear was in talks with the controllers at tempest, and the San Marlin ATCs, when AJ had asked for status update on the bird, which Bear had heard from Quinn's radio, so Bear turned it back to the team channel.

"AJ, Stork 1 just lifted off from Tempest. Got Premission to go Controller from both Temptest and San Marlin's ATCs. Got to take some readings real fast."

Bear pulled out the Cat S60 Smart Phone and pulled up a app that gave him in detail weather report for the area, and turned his radio back to ATC channels.

"Stork 1, This Whitetree Mobile Controller Red 3, Callsign Bear. We have injured here. Squawk 0017, Channel 121.5."

Bear looked down at his phone, and read off the weather report, just to make sure Stork 1 got it, and then looked at the smoke grenade he took from Lesley

"Weather Report, is winds out of East, windspeed is 13 knots with gust up to 20 knots. Humidity Level is at 75%, visibility is 10 miles. Scattered Clouds. Your first landing zone is on top of a building, Will be marked with a Red Smoke Grenade."

Bear flipped his phone to the GPS function, and read off the coordinates to Stork 1.

"When you get to the town let me know, so I can set off the smoke grenade."

[Cylarn]

1953
13 June 2018
Suaco, San Marlín
Arthur "AJ" Irvine

Red and blue lights danced among the shadows upon the colonial architecture of the surrounding street. The wail of a siren, and a monotone Carribean voice calling out an order in Spanish and English for people to disperse. The handful of thugs still posing a threat to the group leapt away at haste, ducking away into the alleys and the opposite end of the street. AJ looked down the street and turned his body towards a steadily-approaching line of police vehicles moving towards the club. The dancing of the lights got even brighter. AJ lowered his M4, as a collection of police officers in mismatched uniforms disassembled from the vehicles and formed a riot line that gave AJ a giggle, as opposed to appreciation. He took his right hand away from his weapon, and motioned for the team to move their weapons to the low-ready. Gunshots faintly cracked from inside the club.

"Low-ready," he ordered. Gideon sounded off in his ear. Apparently, he hadn't heard AJ's last report. The gunshots inside explain that.

"Tarvo, move inside and link up with Merge," AJ next ordered to his team, then keying his mic. "Cavalry's here. Sending Tarvo inside to you while I deal with the natives. Found the kid yet?"

Shields, batons, FALs, gas guns, and a fat man with gold on his shoulder boards and aviators on his face stood before Red Team. The riot officers slowly relaxed their stances upon receiving an order from their officer, who then asked to speak with the officer in charge of the team. Good, let's make this quick. AJ held concern about Blue operating on their own inside of the club; he wanted to get Red inside as quickly as possible. He stepped forward and gradually allowed his M4 to rest against his chest, his right hand staying on the weapon. AJ reached up with his left hand and unclipped his mask straps before pulling the thing from his sweat-covered face. He locked eyes with the officer in charge of the riot unit.

"Speaking," AJ called out. "The rest of our unit is inside, roping up the fucking man-child. We were engaged by a combat-ready team, but we have one of their number in our custody."

AJ looked around at the corpses. Some were riddled with bullet wounds; others were burned or beaten. AJ frowned, looking back to the police officer. He made a wave motion with his left arm in an arc around the front of the club. "I need to get my team inside, but all this needs to be secured at our rear. My overwatch is calling in a medevac, which would be pertinent for you to know."

[Hastur]

Lesley Sarah Rutledge
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:51 local time
Downtown Suano

---

The contractors were slowly getting things under control, bringing the chaos to heel. Lesley and Gideon had the dance floor locked down. The Russian and the Israeli began their assault towards the HVI hunkered down in the manager’s office. The team making their move to pull Darren out of the fire he had gladly provided the gasoline for. Gideon had taken a beating, Lesley’s eyes catching sight of the South African man pummelling one attacker within an inch of his life, all with a broad fragment of glass bulging from his arm. Wincing and heaving as he threw out the order for her to cover one of the unsecured rooms, the manager’s office.

“Got it.” Lesley complied flatly, an abrupt look of concern towards the injury lingering as she altered position, taking up a defensive posture near cover, staring towards the door with her rifle in a low ready position as the team left her on her own. The brief curse of being alone on the dance floor was covered by heavy thump of the electronic beats and strobing lights that was still very much omnipresent, surviving in the background as it dominated the atmosphere. Beyond that, however, trouble brewed on the horizon. Lesley could hear it lying just below the surface of the beat, screams, shouting and soft bangs punctuated while brief movement fluttered near the doors view port between flashes.

Lesley tensed up, eyes looked on target as she waited for something to happen, keeping her rifle below her peripheral vision. The door was finally flung open in a fluid motion, a man dragged woman out in a steady blur, arms wrapped tightly around her neck. She latched onto the pistol first as the man clutched it tight to the woman’s temple, his desperate last chance gamble. Coming to a halt less than ten yards away, he began screaming something in Spanish. Lesley couldn’t understand him, but it didn’t take her long to figure out that he was demanding his release and starting a countdown.

Lesley’s heart galloped. Collateral was a palpable issue, but she realized what would happen if she handed over her weapon. A shot like that would be difficult, especially in the low, flickering light, and to make things worse, she was all alone, no back up close enough by. A certified worst nightmare of anyone.

It still left only one choice, a tough call to carry out. She fortified herself, capturing control from the brief hesitation that materialized. She had to calm him down, distract him.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Let’s keep things kosher yeah?! Let’s not do anything rash eh?!” Lesley shouted, voice cool as she held her low weapon ready, eyes tracking the man’s bobbing head concealed behind the captive. In response, he simply drove the gun into the bawling worker’s head, and began screaming again, temporarily breaking the count down as he hissed something out that she couldn’t understand. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The man's skull was inching out more and more from behind his human shield.

“It’s alright! It’s alright! You’re scared! I understand that! I am too! I'm terrified right!....” Despite her attempts at a soothing voice, the man yelled back, Lesley and him beginning a screaming match as the guy became more agitated, unconsciously allowing the upper portion of his head to be more visible. Without skipping a beat, she knew it was her only chance. "...But lets just ta-" In a fluid half second, still talking, she took a step forward, forming an aggressive stance as her rifle flicked upward, just like they had drilled her to do. The sight briefly aligned with the man’s head, although she hardly had the time to aim. With a smooth squeeze of the trigger, the gun let off its distinctive bark.

The man’s head shuddered, the round entering just below his right eye, a succinct smudge of dark crimson behind his head contrasting against an abrupt burst of silver from the nightclub lights. He abruptly went limp, sagging towards the floor as his arm dragged the office worker down with him, shrieking the entire way down. Lesley propelled forward, keeping her gun trained on the target. The woman, terrified, attempted to free herself from his grasp, his limp arm holding her down as she frantically frashed and pulled.

“Get up! Get up!” Lesley bellowed, stomping the man’s hand, giving off a soft crack as she forced the pistol free from his grasp. She grabbed the woman with her free hand, pulling her upwards and quickly pushing her to the side. She brought her rifle up bear once more, firing another two shots into the man’s chest, rounds tearing through him at close range as the ex royal marine ensured he wasn’t getting up. Her attention flowed to the woman, her hand extending out to her, finger jabbing towards her face.

“Down! Get on the ground now!” She ordered, the office worker taking a second to comprehend the order, getting prone onto the dance floor. Lesley kept her rifle trained on them. “Hands on your head! Hands on your head! Cross your legs!” The woman complied, pleading something as she did so. Lesley removed a set of cable ties, cuffing her hands and legs quickly, keeping her attention focused on the mystery door as she did so. The feeling of loneliness becoming ever so more stressful.

“Guys! I need backup in here stat! I’m like a spare prick at a wedding here in the dance hall!” She keyed, over the radio, turning her eyes back to the door. “It’s going to be alright, just stay calm, yeah? Just be cool as a cucumber.”

[Bolslania]

Tarvo Kärkkäinen
Fireteam Red, Anubis
June 13th, 2018
19:53

---

Tarvo looked back over his shoulder from where he was kneeling as the cops rolled up. They looked like a rag tag bunch of militiamen but this was the Caribbean. That's about all that could be expected from a place like San Marlin. He straightened up as he watched the last of the rioters drift into the shadows, taking his left hand, his shooting hand, off of his rifle as the police walked towards them. AJ took the lead, being the TL on site and Tarvo remained silent for the interaction, his eyes drifting across the hellscape that was the street. Beaten, burned, and shot rioters littered the street, Tarvo estimated there to be about 12 to 15 bodies laying on the pavement.

"Tarvo, move inside and link up with Merge," AJ ordered him, Tarvo nodded

"Copy that." He said through Bear's gas mask as he turned and jogged along the path that Merge had taken, following her footsteps of sorts. As he reached the hole that Blue Team had gone in to, he changed mags. From the sounds of gunfire coming out of the building it sounded like he might need it.

"Blue team, Tarvo here, I'm coming inside. Merge, hold position if possible I've been told to link up with you, over." He said, stepping in to the smoke and strobe-light filled club. Instantly he saw bodies draped on the floor.

Business as usual then He thought cynically. He was just stepping in to the main room. He heard Lesley saying something, he couldn't discern what. Then the crack of a rifle, he dropped behind cover.

Poking his head out he saw Lesley double tapping someone on the ground. He came out of where he was kneeling when Lesley called for backup, taking a position behind the bar to cover the door that the man had come out of.

"I've got you Lesley!" He called to her, keeping his eyes, and rifle, on the door.

[Ubaria]

Gideon Van-Lingen
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:53 local time
Downtown Suano

"I need to get my team inside, but all this needs to be secured at our rear. My overwatch is calling in a medevac, which would be pertinent for you to know."

The officer paused his slow waltz forward and gave a hearty laugh before stopping abruptly, the smug grin on his face turning to a resentful frown.

“Who are you to be giving me orders boy?” He barked towards AJ, his left index finger jabbing the air condemningly. "Do you not think you have caused enough damage here today?" He gestured to the same burnt, shot or beaten corpses that littered the road. "You and your men are to stand down and return to your base of operations, leave the rest to my men. If you don't, i'll have you all shot in the street where you stand" Upon that note, several of the officers raised their weapons once more, training them on the various members of Red team, the officer crossed his hands, awaiting AJ's response.

Inside the club, the situation continued to unfold in a muddled fashion. Lesley executed the hostage taker with impunity, his exposed head being drilled with a rifle round at close range dropped him instantly, Merge arrived to secure the entryway and Yuval pushed to the doorway of the Manager's office, the single remaining hostile had fallen back and hidden behind another overturned table, little of his form showing but the barrel of his rifle was propped on the table's edge, simply waiting for the pair to arrive.

[Vacif]

Ricardo Pardo
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:54 local time
Downtown Suano

---

Luckily for the ground team, Tempest wasn't even five kilometers from the town, which allowed the helicopter team to arrive in no time. Despite this, in the heat of the fighting their arrival might have felt like an eternity. If it weren't for the wash of the helicopter, he could probably hear the firefight from where he was. Ahead of him he could see squad cars and flashing lights in the distance. If traffic wasn't backed up already from the festival, it was sure as hell now backed up by this 'little' incident. There wasn't much time for conversation, their late arrival wasn't much of a talker anyway and the crew chief was busy coordinating with the ground controller and civilian ATC.

BEAR: << Weather Report, is winds out of East, windspeed is 13 knots with gust up to 20 knots. Humidity Level is at 75%, visibility is 10 miles. Scattered Clouds. Your first landing zone is on top of a building, Will be marked with a Red Smoke Grenade. >>

Ricardo knew Suano pretty well, not exactly from the air but he knew fairly well where Callisto was. And even if he didn't, all he needed to do was follow the police convoy.

STORK 1: << Stork to Bear, we've entered Suano's downtown air space. Mark the landing zone. >>

Now roughly above the AO, all they needed to do was wait for the red smoke to confirm the pick up sight, even though Ricardo was fairly certain he could probably spot the ground team from where he was.

[Herador]

Harry Quinn
Sunday 13th June, 2018
Downtown Suano

"Heaven," Harry grunted, holding onto the flailing woman's shoulders, "Heaven I need you to listen to me. You're looking a bit rough and-" a flailing arm caught Harry in the gut, "Fuckin' shit." was all he could groan out, doubling over.

From across the roof, he heard Bear call out "Quinn, that ain't good. She speaking Romanian. We need to sedate and to ease her pain. You have any Toradol in there?"

"Can't use Toradol, she's bleeding too much and I don't know how bad the head injury really was." Wrestling Heaven down again and rolling her into position, he opened his bag and took out the metal case that held his vials and syringes. "Heaven, I'm going to give you something for the pain, it's going to make you feel better but I need you to calm down, ok?" She had stopped flailing and nodded weakly, vomit still dribbling out the side of her mouth. Filling up a syringe, he carefully put the needle in and pushed down the plunger. "You're going to be ok, just take deep breaths." Sitting down to wait again, Quinn flicked his comms back to base when she had finally settled down and gave the Triage center an update.

"Copy Anubis Medical, Patient 1 updates are on the board."

Before he could respond, calls for him were coming from inside the club.

"Bear, keep an eye on her. I gave her a pretty mild dose of Ketamine but if she starts acting funny call me ASAP."

Climbing down the ladder, Quinn quickly moved across the street, trying his best to ignore the bodies and smell of burning flesh around him. "Christ." He muttered to himself, moving inside. The dim interior wasn't much better, if the club ever looked decent it didn't anymore. "The hell even happened in here?" He grumbled to no one in particular.

Finally finding himself with the rest of the team, he strode up to Gideon who was hunched over something, "What's the problem Chei-" Stopping himself mid-sentence, he knelt down next to a woman on the ground. "I got this." His tone changed abruptly, waving the other man away and setting to work. A new pair of gloves, a new blood sweep.

"My names Harry." He said in Spanish, "I'm a medic and I'm going to help you. Can you tell me your name?"

"Maria." She groaned weakly, her chest rising and falling raggedly.

"It's good to meet you, Maria." Pulling down his gaiter he gave her his best smile. The sweep came back clean, so the only damage he had to worry about for now was the gunshot. "I need you to tell me if you've taken anything tonight Maria."

"I haven't stolen anything," she mumbled deliriously.

"Drugs Maria, have you taken any drugs tonight?" She weakly shook her head in response. "Gideon! She needs serious help, I need to put her on the helo."

"Listen kid, we've not got much time. If you can get her out and secure then go, but we need to be ready to haul ass."

Scowling to himself, Quinn began to angrily grumble "Ain't her fault she got shot over this bullshit." Looking down at the young woman again, all he could see was Ellen. "You're going to make it." He said in English, more to himself than her. Taking out a syrette of morphine, he gave her a half dose. "This is going to help with the pain Maria, but I need you to stay awake, ok?" He had swapped back to Spanish and began to work on the wound. It was a through and through and she wasn't bleeding nearly enough for it to have blown through an artery, but she still wasn't in a good way.

"Triage, Anubis Medical, mark me down for a Patient 2. GSW upper right torso, through and through, heavy bleeding though no apparent arterial loss. Patient has been started on a half dose of syrette morphine and 6% Hetastarch IV drip."

"Triage copies all, Patient 2 on the board."

Flicking over to the team station, Quinn pushed down the stud again, "Bear, I need you to update our ride, I have another for EVAC. GSW upper torso, I'm getting her out of here."

Maria began to move again, shifting as her pain changed to mild discomfort. "You're doing great, just stay with me ok?" She nodded weakly and gave him a little thumbs up. "I'm going to take you to our hospital, ok? We're going to go on a helicopter. It's not going to be fun, but I'm going to make sure you get home." Another weak nod, she likely wouldn't remember this in ten minutes.

"Anyone have eyes on the kid!?" He called towards the office. "Get him over here so I can check him!"

[Anowa]

The One Pea
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:53 local time
En-route to Safe Room Door

For a high end club, Pavel was earnestly a little disappointed with the lack of verticality at play. Perhaps his mind had been tainted by shitty Hollywood action movies, maybe he'd never actually been to a proper nightclub, God knows he didn't really have much of a reason to go, or any time for that matter. That and the number of horror stories he'd heard of fatal fires meant any desire he actually had was quashed damn near instantly.

His musings were ruptured by a trio of bullets ripping off a chunk of the doorframe as he tried to pass through. Immediately backpedalling, the man took a low position as bullets ripped through the wall, and Spanish yelling echoed from the door. After a few moments, the telltale click of an empty gun was just barely audible over the assailing tinnitus, and Pavel pushed through the door, spotting the guy behind an overturned table. Pavel quickly jogged over to it, put his gun over the table, and dumped three rounds in to the crouched man's head and upper back.

Leaving the corpse to slump over, pavel cross the floor towards the door to the back room and storage, keeping an eye on it as he flagged Yuval to get the Manager's Office door.

[Cylarn]

1953
13 June 2018
Suaco, San Marlín
Arthur "AJ" Irvine


The officer in charge - a Sergeant, AJ judged by the three gold chevrons on his two epaulets - took a "tough guy" approach to dealing with the disturbance at his club. AJ kept his back straight, finger off the trigger of his weapon as the sergeant jutted his finger into the air. AJ blinked at the use of the word "boy," but refrained from showing any other emotion. The sergeant wanted the team gone; AJ wanted the same as well. In order to get their point across, the sergeant called out a threat to AJ and the team, with several of the officers immediately raising their weapons at the remaining contractors outside of the club.

Normally, AJ would have reacted in kind, raising his weapon and leveling it at the Sergeant. That is what his training would have prompted him to do. Instead, AJ kept his posture and refrained from raising his weapon. He locked eyes with the sergeant - one of the only men not actively training a gun on AJ or Mike. Had the man bought his own bullshit, he would be drawing down on AJ at that moment. AJ studied the posture of his counterpart; hands crossed behind his back, puffing out his chest. In the distance, the tell-tale sound of rotor blades chattered through the wind.

"We intend to leave, and that is precisely what we are doing, Sergeant," AJ spoke. "This is where we need your help, because we cannot leave until we have our HVI in our custody and secondly, this area under no threat."

AJ remained in his current posture, his left hand held low with an open palm towards the sergeant. He motioned back towards Aurelio, who sat quietly in the gutter, hands bound behind his back.

"We took a prisoner; one of the gunmen who attacked this club," AJ spoke, pointing to another dead gunman laying next to the line of police officers. The loud beating of rotors soon drew over top of the street, and AJ momentarily looked up towards the helicopter, before turning back to the sergeant. He did not know if the helicopter had any armaments; highly unlikely, but for all the local cops knew, the helicopter doors could open up at any moment and subject them to several bursts of automatic fire within a few seconds of Red Team being gunned down. However, AJ had a plan: surrender Aurelio to the police along with any seized weapons, and pay the sergeant for his "valuable" time. For one, AJ knew for a fact that Caribbean police work paid a meager salary. Secondly, despite the severity of the situation and the fact that AJ did not point out the obvious, pissing off Taxom was good for no one, not even a podunk sergeant in a Caribbean police force.

"If you wanna play hardball, my friends above us are willing to hop in. However, you and I are both cops; we know the importance of properly handing off a crime scene. Bring four men of your men, and yourself, over to my vehicle. Two of them will escort the prisoner, one will watch me, and another to carry the seized equipment."

[Kyraina]

1953
13 June 2018
Suaco, San Marlín
Joseph "Bear who Flys" Bridges

STORK 1: << Stork to Bear, we've entered Suano's downtown air space. Mark the landing zone. >>

Bear: <<Copy Stork, Popping Smoke Now.>>

Bear pulled the pin on the smoke grenade and placed it the center off the roof.

Bear: <<Stork, Bear. Position has been marked. When you come into land, don't put skids on the roof. I have no idea if the building can hold the weight of that Huey. If Y'all got a stretcher on board, we are going to need it. I'll Tell y'all when to stop so we don't damage the building more then we already have. I'll tell you give you a stop hand signal when you get close enough to the roof.>>

Bear grabbed ahold of the handle on the know zonk'd out Heaven's vest, and pulled to the side of the building, out of the danger area for the helo to land. He looked over to the street below and saw AJ talking to the local police forces and then turned his head back to Stork and the LZ.

Bear, looked to the sky and saw the flying lights of the Helicopter, and started to wave.

[Ubaria]

Gideon Van-Lingen
Sunday 13th June, 2018
19:55 local time
Downtown Suano

The police Sergeant remained stoic for a tense few moments until the thudding of distant rotor blade grew in magnitude, upon spotting the helicopter coming into a holding pattern mere meters above street level the sergeant flicked off his sunglasses and waved down his men, the wall of rifles slowly drooping back down to a low ready level. He beaconed back to his troops to request four of his subordinates to approach, speaking to each in turn though their voiced were drowned out by the thrum of the helicopter's blade above. After a moment, the group of five began slowly making their way over to AJ and the parked vehicles.

"You have caused quite the scene" The Sergeant began, stopping before AJ to glance down at the captured gunman, his face remaining rather impassive. "There will be a thorough investigation ... " He paused, stooping down to pluck a rifle cartridge from the tarmac, he held it up and then palmed it over to AJ, a wry smile overtaking his lips. "The local governor will take a lot of convincing to not have you all dragged before the courts" As he spoke, two of his officers dragged the gunman from his knees to a standing position, a flurry of curses in Spanish soon following, another officer collected the captured assailant's weaponry and followed on, the gunman being bundled into the back of the waiting riot van.
---

Another hostile had been pacified, making the last of the threats in the club now a nil factor. Yuval was clear to approach the door and did so quickly, rapping on the metal door three times. There was a muttering of voices from the other side followed by a small wait as the sound of scraping furniture groaned from near the door, eventually the door swung open, a man with a pistol emerged first with a look of apprehension about him, though soon his fear was quenched by the sight of Yuval, Pavel and a club full of corpses. "You took your fucking time." Rayner half joked, tucking his pistol into a discreet holster around the small of his back. Two more figures then emerged from the manager's office, one rather burly contractor held a young, scrawny mid-twenties socialite by the shoulder, forcefully marching him forward.

"Let's get the fuck out of here. We can't take the kid back to the house, shit's too sketchy. He's gonna have to come to Tempest with us." Rayner began, turning back to Darren who upon noticing the sight of the nearby bullet ridden corpse, almost churned his stomach contents over the floor.

"What the fuck actually happened." Gideon called up, meeting the group halfway as they all made their way back down the stairs and towards the front doors. Rayner stopped, letting Rojas escort Darren out the front door with other operators in tow.

"Kid and the manager had some sort of disagreement over money and who to let into the club. Some gangster types weren't happy their local dive had been hijacked for the day and started trashing up the place. Shit's hit the fan so we've tried to get out only to find the fire exit has been barred off from the outside. Front was a no-go so we've hit the emergency shutters and before we know it we've got dudes outside with fucking rifles trying to get in."

He paused, stooping over one of the corpses of the fallen gunman. "These guys aren't your local gangbangers. Rojas heard them talking, they're organized and were after the kid specifically. One of them said something about a safehouse."

"They put up more of a fight than your average gangbangers. Heaven took a hit and some of our other guys are pretty shaken up. We need to get out of here before anyone else decides they want to shoot at us today." Gideon turned, palming his radio's PTT.

"Red, Blue. Finish up and pull back to the vics. Package is being transported by Helo back to Tempest along with our wounded. Leave any civvies for the local emergency services. We're done here."

----

Three days later
FOB Tempest - 7:45 AM


Rain. As if the humidity wasn't already enough. A miniature storm had blanketed the island and had amplified the already oppressive heat and reinforced the already dour mood.

The events that transpired in Suano had forced WhiteTree to reduce their overt presence on the island as much as possible, international attention towards the island and the company had spiked in the hours after the attacks and forced them to keep their heads down, only sending out the bare minimum to keep all the sites covered, their contract remaining unchanged. Whilst the backlash hadn't been as intense as first anticipated, the outfit's exploits had been noted on international news networks and social media abound, with still and moving - albeit blurry - images of frenetic crowds, sporadic gunfire and blossoming fire being widely circulated by CNN, Fox and the BBC among others. Luckily the individuals of Red and Blue had been spared any individual scrutiny, the images proving too illegible to discern faces or markings, though the image of a marked WhiteTree helicopter hovering low over the streets of Suano had bought the company as a whole under the international spotlight, especially by various Caribbean governing bodies and other nearby governments, wary of the risks a private military force acting on behest of their own orders proved in such a politically charged time, as the Sergeant had said, the governor of Suano province had called for the operators of WhiteTree to be charged, though the legal team, along with assistance from the Taxom liaison had damage control underway.

Darren had spent the night at Tempest, his complaints about the sleeping arrangements were soon silenced by the threat of a boot up the backside. For caution, Darren and the rest of the family had been moved to a secondary safehouse, closer to Tempest, with a permanent security stationing and within a ten minute drive of the base if anything were to occur. The information that there were potentially more unknown assailants lurking somewhere else on the island proved quite disturbing and of course, this information had been passed onto the authorities and the military, though Aurilio hadn't provided any leads, identification of several of the gunman put them as Venezuelan nationals who had entered the country on tourist visas a week or so earlier, albeit using Colombian and Brazilian credentials as cover. The Venezuelan government was yet to respond, though their silence betrayed their involvement more than anything.

It was early morning now, the sound of rain scattering off the metal roof panelling of the ad-hoc mess hall filled the space, a radio softly played a flow of quintessentially Caribbean tunes and a television broadcast the local news and weather in the corner. Several rows of picnic tables filled the majority of the concrete structure with the far third being a space for a kitchenette and general food preparation. It wasn't luxury, but it was a far lot better than any military conditions many of the operators had been used to in the past.