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Rainbow Six: Swordbreaker (IC)

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Dayganistan
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Rainbow Six: Swordbreaker (IC)

Postby Dayganistan » Tue Dec 29, 2020 1:38 pm

OOC thread here. Please sign up there before posting.

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023


Stepanakert International Airport had no scheduled civilian flights. Over the past several years, it had become the headquarters for the joint Russian-Turkish peacekeeping force in Nagorno-Karabakh. A small number of Turkish and Russian helicopters sat on the small airport's ramp, while occasionally Turkish MRAPs or Russian APCs passed through the gates. Today as sunset approached there was a new arrival at the airport, as an unmarked MC-27J transport plane rolled to a stop on the airport's single runway. The Turkish and Russian troops watched the new aircraft, unsure of where it had come from and who, or what, it was carrying. That knowledge was far above any of their paygrades. The common theory among the troops quickly became that the plane belonged to the CIA. In fact, the plane belonged to Rainbow, the the elite, covert international special operations task force called upon to carry out missions no one nation should be trusted to take the lead on.

As the plane halted on the airport's ramp, the Turkish and Russian soldiers would continue to watch as a 2020 Toyota Land Cruiser was unloaded, followed by a small team of soldiers which, upon further inspection, mostly wore national flags of different countries on their uniforms. The team would rally around the front of the Land Cruiser, seeming to mostly pay attention to a female soldier who wore a Multicam uniform which bore an olive drab and black coloured Canadian flag on both sleeves.

That Canadian soldier was Captain Tahmina Azadi, formerly of the Canadian Special Operations Regiment. She was to be in command of this team. It wasn't her first time leading a team of special operators, but it was her first time to lead such an international team.

"I'm going to quickly go over the mission again, although I'm sure you all remember the briefing," She began. "Tonight we're raiding a warehouse in Stepanakert occupied by an estimated ten Armenian ultranationalist insurgents. It will be dark, so hopefully you all remembered to bring your NVGs and check the batteries in your IR lasers. The cell is linked to the recent chemical attack in Baku. They're lead by Tigran Petrosian, former Armenian special forces and veteran of the 2020 Nagorno-Karabakh conflict where he was the sole survivor of his unit following an Azerbaijani drone strike."

Tahmina reached for an iPad she had placed on the hood of the Land Cruiser and pulled up a photo of a bearded man wearing an Armenian uniform and a modular plate carrier not unlike the ones the operators of her team were currently wearing. An AK-12, likely stolen from Russian peacekeepers, was slung across his chest. The photo was a screenshot from a video release in which Petrosian claimed responsibility for the Baku chemical attack and threatened further attacks against Azerbaijan. She turned the iPad to her team.

"This is Petrosian, get a good look at him. We're trying to take him alive, don't shoot him if you can avoid it. He's special forces trained just like us but if we can quickly eliminate the other X-Rays he'll know he can't fight us all. However, there is a high chance he will make a run for it and at that point we just have to hope someone else catches him and that the Turks or Azerbaijanis don't shoot him on sight."

After the team had gotten a good look at Petrosian, she set the iPad back down. "Novikov, you're to find a vantage point in a nearby building where you can cover the warehouse. Don't take any shots until we've entered the warehouse unless I tell you to. The rest of you are with me, we're moving from the Armenian checkpoint, through the smaller compounds and hitting the warehouse from the southeast corner. We're running with suppressors on our weapons tonight, don't want the civilians to hear gunfire and panic. We're rolling out in one hour."

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Bolslania
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Postby Bolslania » Tue Dec 29, 2020 4:19 pm

Mueller listened to his new commander silently, he studied the man's face, seeing as he would generally be taking point, it was doubly important for him to know who to shoot and who not to shoot. His bag with the weapons he used was in the Land Cruiser, as well as the majority of his plates. He cast his eyes about the compound, it was a force of habit, Russian and Turkish soldiers were keeping distance, but watching the members of Rainbow, he didn't have much respect for the Turkish military, spent most of their time committing war crimes he thought. The Russians he had been trained in some capacity to fight, yet a Russian Spetznaz Operator, Alfa Group no less, in their ranks. Strange times. He had only one question for Captain Azadi.

"Based on the use of silencers I'm guessing we're not going to use a breaching charge, but what about other ordnance?" He had several types of grenades in his duffel, and it was fairly important to know which types he should bring, if any.
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Purusapura
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Postby Purusapura » Tue Dec 29, 2020 5:10 pm

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023


Russian soldiers would watch as the Rainbow team prepared to assault the warehouse, the Russian soldiers were looking like they were talking and looking at Yuri, due to the Russian flag on his sleeves and his black Ratnik combat uniform with a black face mask concealing his mouth for night missions, he had listened intently to Tahmina Azadi and Mueller spoke asking what kinds of ordnances he should bring, Yuri responded to Mueller after he asked his questions Yuri said in his Russian accent "She did say we're going in quiet so it's better to bring one or two smoke grenades and there might be a lot more enemies than ten so be careful in there"

After everyone was done speaking Yuri proceeded to prepared his weapons and equipment, checking his magazines filled with subsonic ammunitioning, fitting his Dragunov SVDM with a silencer and IR laser, the same attachments to his PPK-20 secondary SMG in the slight possibility of close quarters combat and his Lebedev pistol which was in a tertiary weapon in case he had to be even quieter and closer, the Russians in the checkpoint were staring at him, they soon looked away when he slowly turned his head towards them, Yuri didn't have much hate neither respect for his fellow Russians in the military, to be honest he never really had respect for people he didn't know that well, he may act polite but he will really only respect people if he know them really well and thinks that they are good people.

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Hastur
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Postby Hastur » Tue Dec 29, 2020 7:58 pm

OR-6 Charlotte 'Tig' Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023



The German woman, a long way from home, stood silently by the Land Cruiser. Dressed in a very non-descript multicam uniform which bore no insignia, only a two-tone German flag identifying her homeland, her rifle slung across her carrier rig as the Captain Azadi went over the objectives one last time. Looking over the intelligence sprawled across the hood with a deadpan and analytical expression on her face, ears open to the flow of information as the Canadian officer talked.

A raid on a warehouse occupied by a cell linked to the chemical attacks in Baku, estimation of 10 hostiles inside.

Those were roughly two-to-one odds: If the Armenian security services had the correct intelligence, the playing field felt quite uneven. Especially because they themselves were led by Tigran Petrosian. Ex special forces with experience likely leading back to the 2020 conflict and one of two of Armenia’s most notable military operations in the country’s modern history, the rerouting of Azerbaijani forces from Talysh in 2016 during border clashes. The guy was likely the real deal. And if he was the real deal, the cell no doubt had some training as well, with them either being ex-military or at the very least trained by likes of Tigran Petrosian himself. She figured she could expect a fair bit of creative counter measures around the buildings. Rigged doors, bobby traps and men on high alert. They were likely waiting for the other shoe to drop after their sarin gas attack, likely knowing it was only a matter of time until someone came looking, and extra precautions around the safe house would give you a fighting chance if it caught the attackers off guard. It what she would do in that situation.

The Canadian passed the tablet around, bearing a picture of their HVT. Charlotte took with one hand and did her best to send the man’s specific details to memory from the screenshot, using her two right hand fingers to zoom closer to his face, the image slightly blurred due to poor resolution. He looked groomed to the best that he could be in the circumstances as he stood before the camera in his Armenian uniform, AK12 slung across his chest, a scalable plate carrier system below that. The man was heavily armed and armoured. Charlotte pondered on this for a second, letting out a short but vocal tut as she looked closely at the man.

If most of the hostiles had what he had on and packed what he had, they would be in for a firefight if they lost the element of surprise. The armour concerned her the most, even using AP3 or AP4 5.56x45mm NATO cartridges would have iffy results at 40 feet if they had level 4 ceramic plates stuffed snuggly into their vests. It’d trash the plate and knock them on their ass for sure at the range she'd be shooting at, but she would have to double tap those who go down, or aim high, the latter being easier said than done when point shooting in night vision goggles. That was assuming most of them had a carrier with solid plates, but she would not take the chance anyhow. Charlotte would make sure her magazines were loaded with tungsten core rounds.

Her Life was expensive, and the ammo was cheap.

Keeping things quiet and taking him alive was paramount, which meant they had to identify before they opened fire. it complicated the waters a little, but it was looking liked they would have to take it slow, eliminating the other hostiles first to compel his surrender. Charlotte had her apprehensions about him surrendering, harbouring suspicions that the type of individual who gases Azerbaijani’s with sarin gas likely will not be captured alive. She felt he was likely to run or fight it out to the bitter end if he got snagged. She held her tongue however and remained mute. Now was not the moment to comment on it, however, it was not her job or her place, orders were orders, and now they had an hour to prepare.

The others began asking questions and she listened keenly, now cradling her rifle in her arms, watching carefully around at the various groups operating on the airfield, a large number of eyes on them, mostly Turkish and Russian peacekeepers. Her fellow countryman Mueller asking if they would be running any other ordinance, with the masked Russian, Novikov, quickly piping in that they should bring smoke grenades. Regardless of the outcome, she would keep flashbangs on her body. A few loud bangs in the night aren’t going to make much of a difference if the hostiles inside starts lighting the place themselves if things don’t go right.

We are suiting up in CBRN gear, ma’am?” Charlotte asked, her voice heavily accented and dry in tone as she began to prepare her gear, doing equipment once overs. She was not sure if they expected sarin to be on the compound, but because he claimed responsibility and threatened to do it again, the possibility of their being some on site wasn't out of the question. While MOPP was far from pleasant and she would look for just about any excuse not to wear the stupid thing, the effects of sarin was serious. She’d rather not be a convulsing dead mess suffering from a complete respiratory failure if they discharged some of the vapourless nerve agent.
Last edited by Hastur on Wed Dec 30, 2020 6:19 am, edited 2 times in total.
The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

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Theyra
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Postby Theyra » Fri Jan 01, 2021 3:09 am

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Bihari Thakurta


Bihari listened to what Azadi said about their target. Standing next to the Land Cruiser and with his rifle slung across his chest. Resting his arms on his rifle. A former special forces operator, eh? That is a step up from the normal insurgents that he is used to dealing with. Someone like them, someone that is properly trained to fight and might have a surprise or two set up in that warehouse. Waiting for some careless soul to fall into, plus, the ten hostiles inside. Bound to be a challenge and a test to see how his new team can handle a mission.

It reminds him of an op back in Jammu and Kashmir when his squad had to deal with a local army sergeant insurgent and had holed up in an old school with weapons and insurgents inside. It is different that this time they are keeping the leader alive, this time and Bihari sightly shook at the memory. Anything that dealt with that dammable region always made him feel a sense of anger and bitterness. But, Bihari pushed those thoughts away from his mind.

Still, back on the task at hand. Bihari studied the face of their target, committing it to memory. Petrosian would be getting away that easily if Bihari had a say in it. If things go that well that is. Waiting for everyone to stop talking. He spoke up, "What Tiedemann said, do we know if there are any of the gas in there?" If there were then this mission may have gotten more interesting which is something that Bihari would not like at all.

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Dayganistan
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Postby Dayganistan » Fri Jan 01, 2021 10:32 pm

Tahmina listened to the concerns of her teammates about chemical weapons, quickly addressing them. "The Armenians don't think there are chemical weapons in the warehouse. However, we're going to be carrying respirators and nerve agent antidote kits with us just in case. As for using explosives ourselves, we're going to be limiting this to flashbangs. But take frag grenades with you in case of an emergency."

Approximately two hours later
The Land Cruiser pulled to a halt at the Armenian checkpoint. The checkpoint wasn't a particularly fortified one, two Toyota Corollas with Armenian police markings blocked the road, while four Armenian police officers armed with AKs stood buy to direct traffic and civilians away from the area, not that this area of Stepanakert was particularly active at this hour of the night. They were backed up by a squad of Armenian infantry, and a few Russian soldiers standing around a GAZ Tigr. The Rainbow operatives dismounted their vehicle and prepared to move.

"Novikov, get to your observation point. The rest of you, on me," Tahmina said, pulling her NVGs mounted to her helmet down over her face. She lead the team across the street and to the metal fence of the small compound they would have to pass through. It was concealed by trees, and appeared to be an abandoned auto repair business. She moved to the corner of the fence, and scanned what she could see of the compound. No enemies in sight.

"Looks clear, we're moving. Guns up guys, scan for enemies," She said quietly into her headset microphone, before turning the corner with her gun raised, canted to the side in order to quickly point shoot anyone who might pop up. With the infrared flashlight on her rifle she scanned every window and door in the small compound, confident that her team behind her would be doing the same as they slowly moved through. At the far end of the compound, a gap in the fence just large enough for a person to pass through, and the sound of footsteps. Tahmina raised a fist in the air, signaling her team to stop. The team would see a man armed with an AK walk by the gap in the fence. Tahmina pressed the pressure switch attached to her IR laser and pointed the laser at the hostile. The hostile looked to the gap in the fence and started walking towards him. The sound of two suppressed gunshots came from Tahmina's carbine, and the hostile collapsed to the ground.

"X-ray down, continue moving," she said two her team as they went through the gap in the fence, moving towards the warehouse cautiously with weapons raised for fear of finding another sentry. The team was able to reach the warehouse, finding a door at the southeast corner To the right of the door was a window.

"Stack up, left side of the door. Mueller, take point," Tahmina said, loading a grenade into her HK69 grenade launcher. "I'm going to launch a flashbang round through the window and then we're going in."

Inside the building, shouting in Armenian could be heard. Someone had suspicions of a hostile presence. Tahmina aimed for the window with her grenade launcher and fired, the distinctive "bloop" of a 40mm launcher followed by shattering glass, a loud bang, and a bright flash of light.

"Breach, breach!"



Meanwhile, inside of the warehouse

Petrosian was reading an encrypted email on his laptop when he suddenly heard two muffled pops from outside. Suppressed gunfire? No, it couldn't be, it had to be someone's car backfiring. He picked up his radio handset.

"Red, this is Spectrum. Status, over." He said into the radio. No answer. He repeated this. Still no response. He threw the radio handset at the wall. "Fuck!" He screamed. He knew someone was on to his organization. Their next attack would not be able to carry out as planned. He grabbed his AK-12 and stormed out of his makeshift headquarters, an office located in a small second story area at the far end of the warehouse. "Everyone gather around!" He yelled. Whatever insurgents were in the warehouse quickly ran to him, weapons in hand.

"There are traitors to our nation upon us," he said to his assembled men. "Outside, the traitors come to eliminate all of our work to return our nation and people to their rightful glory, and reclaim our lost land. This means we have to change our plans. We can't wait around for more gas to use against the invaders in Baku. We have to act now. Davit, Hayk, Serzh, you're leaving with me."

Three of the insurgents stood. They wore Russian copies of Opscore helmets and plate carriers. One was armed with an IWI Negev, the other with an AK-74 equipped with a grenade launcher, and the third armed with an AK-74 and RPG-7. These three men were Petrosian's "assault group" as he would term them. All veterans of the defence of Artsakh. None of them were former special forces, but they had all refused to lay down their arms in order to seek revenge against the invaders in Baku, and the traitors in Yerevan. Petrosian had helped train these three men more than the rest, and would trust them for the most dangerous missions.

"The rest of you, you're staying to defend this place. You will die, but you will take as many of the traitors with you as you can."

Petrosian lead the three men who would come with him to the rear door. The remaining five would try to remember everythign Petrosian had taught them about CQB and defend the warehouse to the death. One man watched the southeast door. Two watched the large window beside that door. Stacks of crates, some empty some filled with weapons, would provide cover for these men. The remaining two retreated to Petrosian's office to be apple to cover every possible entrance from an elevated position.

Meanwhile, Petrosian had lead his men out a rear door. Outside was a collection of old Soviet vehicles in various states of disrepair, which they used for concealment. They stayed low behind vehicles, before reaching what was once a wall made out of concrete panels, with one of the panels removed. Beyond that wall, Petrosian and his men could slip into a wooded ravine. Just as the four insurgents entered the ravine, a detonation could be heard from the warehouse.

Good luck, guys Petrosian thought as he lead his men through the woods, away from the warehouse.

Back inside, the remaining defenders heard the sound of a grenade launcher, followed by a blinding flash and deafening bang. The initial three defenders covering the door and window would be no match for whoever would enter in their blinded and deafened state, but the two defenders in Petrosian's office would be able to return some inaccurate fire, too panicked to properly aim their Kalashnikovs.

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Bolslania
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Postby Bolslania » Sat Jan 02, 2021 10:21 am

It all happened in an instant, as it usually did. He could hear his breathing loudly in his respirator. He stood next to the door as Azadi gave the orders quickly and concisely. He pulled out the flashbang, tossing it in as she fired her grenade launcher. He flicked his weapon to automatic, waiting for the bang.

bang He sprang into action, kicking the door in, seeing the dazed armenians, he didn't have time to raise his weapon to his eyes, settling for setting his laser on the stunned insurgents, the moment of gut-rending excitement mixed with terror as the laser found itself on the man's chest, the squeeze of the trigger. Letting loose with a spray of bullets from his G36, clearing the door so the others could enter the building, he saw 2 drop, and one fall behind cover. Mueller quickly assessed for cover, kneeling behind a crate, waiting for the rest of the team to get in.
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Hastur
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Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Sat Jan 02, 2021 5:03 pm

OR-6 Charlotte 'Tig' Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023



Within two hours, the team was on the move. Their land cruiser pulling through the lightly fortified checkpoint manned by a small contingent of soldiers and police of Armenian and Russian backgrounds, the road they guarded looking like it saw little traffic. Tiedemann dismounted and quickly got into position with the rest of the team, watching their Russian marksman shuffle off into the night under orders from the Canadian before they began their push towards the compound themselves.

Her AN/PSQ-36 night vision goggles hindered her peripheral vision but illuminated the way forward in a greenish haze, the pointman and squad leaders’ outline marked in an orange hue from the thermal imaging power. She covered her region as the party moved across the street and to a small metal fence, examining the area carefully with her rifle up, searching for anything that would pose a hazard to the team, especially that of orange hazes, but she saw nothing on the approach, stepping deliberately as she did so, doing her finest to minimise the noise she made.

Things looked peaceful, but rapidly enough, her ears perked up.

Over her breathing through the respirator and the noise of their own movement, tramping through parched grass, leaves and soil was discernible, and it was coming from the other side of the fence. The commander expressed a stop order; her fist shooting up in the air. Charlotte stood still, and covered her sector to the right, not looking toward the footsteps. Soon after, the distinctive pop of two suppressed reports rattled off into the night, the commander reporting that one target was down. Charlotte did a mental note, only nine hostiles remaining according to their intel, which she wished was correct.

The team went on, advancing with a well-trained fluidness as they made it to the warehouse. Charlotte taking an abrupt glance towards the human shaped orange outline as she crossed, keeping her rifle focused on the warehouse. The suppressed gunshots were loud. She estimated they’d be waiting from them inside if they were at least half alert, and they’d be in for a battle if that were the case.

The order to stack up on the left door arrived, and Charlotte did what countless hours of practice had disciplined into her. She stepped up behind Muller and patted on his left shoulder to indicate she was ready to proceed inside, rifle pointed away from the unit as she remained in place the bang in the window. Shouting could now be understood from inside. They realized something was awry, and were making ready, fuelling tension that had been picking away at her in anticipation for the significant event.

First came the iconic thump from a 40mm grenade launcher, later followed the bursting of glass, climaxing with the powerful crescendo, the blast of the stun grenade, delivering a shock to the system, the brightness of the light stimulating the photoreceptor cells in the eyes, and deafening them briefly. If anyone was not in the local neighbourhood, wasn’t aware something was up, they were now, especially when Muller threw in a second one for good measure.

That was the cue for them to spring to action, playing out one of many drills she had prepared for in the KSM. She pushed forward as Muller took the path of least resistance, Charlotte quickly clearing the part he did not take, assaulting in with efficiency as she looked through her sector. Charlotte caught a man illuminated in an orange outline attempt to escape behind some wooden cargo crates, stunned and deafened by the abrupt explosion. She assessed the hazard immediately and saw gun clearly clutched securely in both of his hands.

This man had planned on killing them.

With zero hesitation, training took over. Hitting the pressure switch on her weapons’ fore end, she swayed the IR laser onto her target, the vivid green line landing on his chest as he instinctively scrambled quickly for safety. Without thinking twice, she squeezed the trigger twice; the rifle letting off two quick suppressed reports the weapon spat tungsten core bullets down range, leaving practically no chance to slow down as they slapped him right into his chest rig where his vitals would be.

The man stumbled, letting out an agonising sputter as he descended to the ground, landing just out of cover as Charlotte, holding her IR on him, she launched off two additional rounds into his back to ensure the hazard was accordingly disposed of as she pressed forward.

scanning with her rifle as she clearing her side, with her sector of the warehouse floor was clear, the warehouse, however, still had activity.

Snapping reports of automatic AK fire followed as inaccurate fire came down near, the sound of hissing and cracks followed by momentary bright flashes coming illuminating the warehouse’s second floor office, which served as an eagles nest for the entire building. Taking fire, Charlotte turned to cover, drawing up a position between the wooden storage boxes, stooping down to minimise her visable figure. She realized they wouldn’t stop the bullets, but they’d have a tough time shooting at what they couldn’t see.

“Two shooters. second story building at the end of the warehouse.” Charlotte stated quickly over the team’s radio, her tone even as she began bracing her rifle against the side of the box. She promptly returned fire towards the strobing beams, firing off three rounds in a sharp sequence, before firing more bullets at a considerably more even trot. Hoping to hold their heads down to suspend them from bringing more accurate fire as the rest of the team moved up.
Last edited by Hastur on Sat Jan 09, 2021 3:48 am, edited 4 times in total.
The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

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Bolslania
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Postby Bolslania » Sun Jan 03, 2021 10:01 am

Mueller watched Tiedemann drop the last of the 3 men waiting by the door for them with a quick shot to his torso. He was about to pop out of cover when bullets started flying around them, He ducked back in, flicking his weapon to semi-automatic, he hoped Tiedemann had seen where they were taking fire from.

Hastur wrote:“Two shooters. second story building at the end of the warehouse.”


He peeked ever so slightly around the barrels he was behind, careful to expose as little of himself as possible. There, he could see just the top of a head behind a steel fence siding. The enemies were having trouble seeing, but at the moment they knew roughly where he and Tiedemann were. Looking around at his feet, he looked for something to throw.

A brick, perfect. He picked it up with a gloved hand, and threw it to the far right of the warehouse, away from him and Tiedemann, He popped up with his rifle readied to see if it worked.

A shout in Armenian, followed by a spray of gunfire, a second shooter had popped up, But Mueller only had time for one, his thrown brick had indeed thrown off the insurgents, giving him time to aim, he deactivated the laser sight, bringing the rifle up snugly against his shoulder, resting his cheek on the stock.

Enhale

He applied very slight pressure to the trigger,

Exhale slightly

He fully depressed the trigger, the suppressed round made a pop, but it was masked by the unsuppressed automatic fire of the insurgents. The bullet found it's mark, hitting the insurgent right above the chest plate, below the throat. Kill shot.

Ognir indz! Khndrum yem! The injured insurgent screamed, his comrade stopped shooting, going over to his buddy. Mueller took the opportunity to move, heading for the stairs to the second floor, going from cover to cover, it seemed as though the active shooter was still distracted by his dying comrade, who wasn't going out quietly.

Mayr! Mayr.... The voice trailed off into a gurgling silence

Anitsves du! Du khozer! Shouted the other shooter, spraying bullets into the dark warehouse. He was spraying wildly, and Mueller took cover behind some large containers near the access stairs.
Military is a 9-9-6 according to this index
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( -_-) (-_Q) If you understand that both Capitalism and Socialism have ideas that deserve merit, put this in your signature

Pro: Democracy, Science, Pro-choice, Civil rights, SocDem , Technocracy
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Margaret DeFrey approaches end of term, BDP Candidate Bonifác Kočí is likely to make the primaries, along with Oie Sibul of the Green Party| Lobbyists clamor for more military spending, however they see little success, with the newly signed budget of 2055 seeing the Military receive only 12.5% of the budget.

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Theyra
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Theyra » Tue Jan 05, 2021 2:28 am

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Bihari Thakurta


Bihari followed Tiedemann and Mueller into the warehouse. Watching as the two took down four of the five hostiles. The last one being on the second floor of the dark warehouse and was firing wildly at them. Bihari who had taken cover near some boxes on the left side of the warehouse.

While the hostile was firing wildly at them, it was mainly at Tiedemann and Mueller's direction. Not his and combined with the poorly lit conditions. Bihari decided to take advantage before the Armenian noticed that he was being flanked. So he boldly moved forward crouch walking to minimize his profile and took cover a stack of barrels near a staircase. He checking if the hostile had noticed him yet. Nope, the hostile was still firing at the others. The plan was working so far and Bihari carefully made his way up the staircase with his CTAR-21 at the ready. Once he at the top, he took aim at the hostile's head while the unsuspecting hostile was reloading. He took the shoot and it connected with the Armenian's head. He dropping to the ground dead with a thud.

Once the last hostile was dead, Bihari slowly moved forward and checked if he could see any more hostiles. At the moment no one was approaching so after taking cover behind a wall. He got on his radio, "Last hostile down, I do not see anymore right now on the second floor. Going to check the rest of the warehouse now." Bihari moved forward cautiously with his weapon raised. Ready to face the rest of the hostiles and to see if Petrosian is still here in the warehouse hopefully.

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Dayganistan
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Postby Dayganistan » Fri Jan 08, 2021 2:10 pm

The initial shooting in the warehouse was over as quickly as it started. The Armenian defenders attempted to return fire, but were quickly cut down by precise applications of fire by a team of trained special operations soldiers.

"Keep moving and guns up, there's probably more guys in here. Be on the lookout for intel as well. Don't check the bodies the Armenian cops will do that after we're done," Tahmina said into her radio headset as she moved with the team, her carbine shouldered and IR laser on. She scanned every possible corner as the team moved, no signs of hostiles. No signs of booby traps either. Rainbow seems to have caught the insurgents off guard. All that could be found were crates of ammunition and weapons. The bulk of any worthwhile intel would likely be located in the office on the second floor. The team would continue moving and clearing the ground floor and after several tense minutes, were finally ready to breach the warehouse. By now, it would cross the operator's minds that Petrosian and several others had likely already left, but they couldn't be too certain.

"Stack up, flash and clear," Tahmina said to the team and waited for them to breach the door to the office.

Upon breaching, the team would find only two dead bodies and a smashed radio handset. As far as intel was concerned, the team would find a laptop left on a desk and several binders full of papers. Some were written in Armenian, while other pages in the binders appeared to be floor plans of various buildings. However, it was clear that Petrosian had left.

"Warehouse clear, Petrosian is gone," Tahmina said, "I'm calling in the Armenians, grab anything that looks useful and we're leaving."

Along with the rest of the team, Tahmina left the warehouse with her NVGs and respirator off. She couldn't believe it. Her first mission in command was, essentially, a failure. Petrosian was gone and they had no idea where he was. All they had was a laptop and some physical files that all had to be translated from Armenian.

"I don't care who drives us back to the airfield, just as long as we get back," she said as she sat down in one of the back seats of the Land Cruiser.
Last edited by Dayganistan on Fri Jan 08, 2021 2:16 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Purusapura
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Postby Purusapura » Fri Jan 08, 2021 2:25 pm

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Yuri Novikov


Yuri was silently running through to his observation point while holding his PPK-20 SMG, his Dragunov SVDM is on his back, it's heavy but he can manage it, Yuri was also carrying respirators and nerve agent antidote kit what a pain he thought to himself but he had to carry it in case he doesn't get gassed and after all it further ensured that the rainbow team didn't also get gassed so he didn't complain, he wasn't complaining type, Yuri mostly kept things to himself.

Yuri finally arrived at the observation point.... He quietly ran through the building while wearing 1PN140 night vision goggles, he checked all corners and finally came to the observation point, it wasn't much of an advantageous point, it just provided a small look into the floors of the warehouse the rainbow team was supposed to clear out, he could barely see much from his point of view but that was his job as a sniper, whether it be a good or bad one he must observe and shoot as he was ordered to, he was about 80 metres away from the window of the warehouse, the enemy could not see 80 metres into the window of a building and spot a sniper there... Once Yuri was ready he spoke into his throat microphone (Laryngophone and yes it exists) saying "I'm in position" he looked through the scope and heard a flashbang, he put on his active hearing protection and loaded subsonic ammunition into his already suppressed Dragunov, two minutes of shooting later he was Thakurta... The mission was over. When he came back he found out that only a laptop and few files were recovered from the raid, Petrosian had escaped, Yuri felt a surge of dissapointment over himself, he sat down by the front seat of a land cruiser, Tahmina Azadi was behind him, he said "it wasn't your fault ma'am, I mostly keep my opinions to myself but it could have been my fault"

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Hastur
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Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Fri Jan 08, 2021 8:51 pm

OR-6 Charlotte 'Tig' Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023




The fight proceeded along swiftly as Charlotte suppressed, firing many bullets towards the second floor office as the rest of the squad funnelled in. Once everybody was in a reliable position, the inaccurate opposing fire died down as the other squad members dealt with them accordingly.
Theyra wrote:"Last hostile down, I do not see anymore right now on the second floor. Going to check the rest of the warehouse now."


Thakurta announced, coming in over her headset, clearing up the reasoning for the silencing of the Kalashnikovs. No longer required to cover them, she withdrew, skirting over to the side of the crate as she took out a fresh magazine from her carrier rig, performing a tactical reload as she ousted the virtually exhausted one that been put to good use.

“Moving.” Charlotte stated over the comms, advancing up on the righthand side as she began clearing the warehouse floor weapon raised. So far there had been six hostiles max, four were unaccounted for. A sinking feeling of dread inside Charlotte’s chest took over as they closed on the last possible hiding place in the building, with her having the realisation that their target had probably gone to ground, something that she was almost certain of when the fire from the second-floor office had ceased.

“First floor clear. No sign of other hostiles.” She added as she cleared her last area, moving onto the second-floor office as the order to stack up came forward. Charlotte fell into place, keeping her gun on the windows as the team prepared the flashbang. The loud explosion followed, and the team quickly funnelled into the room, Charlotte quickly seeing and mentally accounting for the two now expired hostiles on the floor, seeing nobody else. No sign of the other hostiles and more importantly, no Petrosian.

Dayganistan wrote:"Warehouse clear, Petrosian is gone," Tahmina said, "I'm calling in the Armenians, grab anything that looks useful and we're leaving."


Charlotte let out a short curse in German under her breath as she lowered her weapon, her voice grating as she grew angry at the result. Her fears earlier being confirmed as they cleared the hole that he could have been hiding in. The HVT had ghosted them assumedly after the first shots, with frustration being the principal thing she felt. They had him and could have boxed him in easily, but poor support and planning had allowed this to happen. He’d be more careful now, like a hare that got lucky enough to escape greyhounds during coursing, he’d be less likely to make the same mistake twice and would now be better able to carry out his sick plans because they failed to do their job, and more innocent people where likely to die in a completely horrible way.

Charlotte’s mind switched from blunders to further imperative matters as she glanced around the room, focusing on the factor that it was full of intelligence suitable for data collection. This was their next best step as their commander directed them to take what they could recover. Getting any sort of knowledge that might contribute a sign of what he wished to do next. All of it would need to be brought in with them.

She began collecting up what she could, taking pictures of the building and floor plans with a phone as she flung just about everything, the binders, laptop, files, and everything looked like it would be remotely practical in a duffle bag. She would not have to pour through it herself, thankfully. That was up to the intelligence guys working for them who lived and breathed this stuff. Charlotte did not covet for their job, as she was certain they didn’t theirs.

Once she had gathered everything up that she could, she headed outside, walking back through the carnage that they had caused, rifle in one hand, and a duffle bag in the other. The walk back felt longer than it did, her emotions brewing as she finally reached the vehicle that had brought them here. She took off her respirator and pushed her night vision goggles up out of her face. Seizing a flash of respite from the claustrophobic atmosphere of having a mask stuck to your face and her peripheral vision taken away with the night vision.

The sense of irritation and incompetence welled in her heart as she drew a slow laboured breath, inhaling through her nose before discharging it from her mouth as she bent her head upwards, surveying the opaque night sky. When she angled her head back down, her unveiled face carried a tight scowl as her now bitter looking brown eyes squinted around between the squad members, landing primarily on captain for the briefest of moments before she carried on with her profession, inserting the bag into the vehicle’s trunk, climbing into the back of the vehicle herself. Getting comfortable for what would probably be a long and awkward drive back.

Charlotte listened in as the Russian man began talking, stating his opinion on the whole blunder as he did, claiming that he did not like to usually state his opinions. He blamed himself strangely enough, which Chartlotte did not get. Her blame rested purely on administration and command, the raid itself was almost flawless for just five guys. “Why didn’t we have a drone?” Charlotte stated, her accented voice calm and flat on the surface, while harbouring a slightly venomous undertone, it being clear that she was angry. "This is incompetence. Plain and simple. He should not have got away."

She cursed in german again as she rubbed her forehead anxiously, this time aimed at herself. It all made little sense to her. If they had a drone, essential support for something like this, something that could have been readily arranged by any one of the rainbow members states who worked in the area, they would have detected the stragglers leaving the compound, or at least had a stronger chance of doing so. Hell, even if they had more bodies, they could have set up a better cordon themselves. They practically let this take place, and that made her more frustrated. While playing the could have, should have, wouldn't have game didn't help the sicuation any, she still couldn't help it as the senario replayed through her head again and again. "We better hope that intelligence has something good on it, and he's dumb enough to not change whatever he's been planning."
Last edited by Hastur on Sat Jan 09, 2021 5:42 am, edited 10 times in total.
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Dayganistan
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Postby Dayganistan » Sat Jan 09, 2021 11:23 am

As the team was leaving, Tahmina could tell her subordinates were disappointed. She was too. He shouldn't have gotten away. It wasn't even completely their fault. The Armenians, the Russians and the Turks should have had more security forces in the area. It would have been for the better if a sniper would have taken him out even if it meant Rainbow would lose their lead on tracking down whatever black market source the gas is coming from. At this point, Petrosian becoming a red stain on the side of a mountain after an Azerbaijani drone strike would be preferable. Speaking of drones, Tiedemann spoke up and wondered why there wasn't one.

"Armenians didn't want a drone in the area plain and simple," Tahmina said. "Turkey and Azerbaijan both offered to fly a drone overhead. The Armenians said no, the people are still traumatized from the drones during the war. They wouldn't even let the Russians send a drone up. But I should have been more forceful in trying to get permission for a smaller reconnaissance drone."

The drive back to the airfield was certainly an awkward one. The team did almost everything right, but still failed their mission. Nobody was truly sure how to react to such a failure. Tahmina wanted to offer some consolation to her team, but couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound like she was just trying to cover up a failure. Meanwhile, she scrolled through a dossier on Petrosian on her command tablet, looking for any sort of lead. Something caught her eye and she spoke up.

"It might take a while to get anything out of this intel but I have a plan," She said. "In the meantime, we're pursuing our own leads. We need permission from command and the Armenian government to do this, but I want to detain Petrosian's wife and question her to see if she knows anything. If we're lucky, maybe he called her and mentioned something he shouldn't have to her. When we're back at the airfield, I'll try to get the permissions I need and prepare a briefing. Be ready to fly out to Yerevan at a moment's notice."

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Postby Bolslania » Sat Jan 09, 2021 12:27 pm

Mueller was disappointed in the failure of the mission of course, but he had done this long enough to know that things sometimes just go wrong. As Tiedemann asked about a drone, her voice laden with anger, Mueller, who had been trailing behind the group put a hand on her shoulder to indicate his presence

"Hey, lay off, she knows." he said quietly in German. He moved on, taking off his helmet and respirator, looping both on his belt and rubbing a hand through his hair. Petrosian had escaped, but his forces were severely decreased. More than that, he wouldn't get away for long. They'd hunt him down eventually. He got in the driver's seat and started up the engine. He would speak with Tahmina later, before she beat herself up to much.
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Theyra
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Postby Theyra » Sun Jan 10, 2021 1:18 am

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Bihari Thakurta


Luck as it turns out was on the Petrosian side this night. Bihari thought as he looked out the window of the Land Cruiser. Their lead was gone, escaped into the dark night and all they had left was a laptop and a couple of papers. It did not help that this was their first mission together and it ended in failure. So much for the team's first impression. They did things by the book and it was not enough. Not frickin enough and a killer is still loose in the world. Bihari could only sigh in defeat that their target got away. Sooner or later Petrosian will show his face again, he knows this. Someone willing to using chemical weapons to kill innocent will not stay quiet for long. The only question is that would be them that either kill or capture him or would it be someone else to take Petrosian down. Still, that is a problem for another day and time.

Bihari did not voice any complaints or vent about the failure of the mission like some of his teammates. He simply took this failure in silence as he stared at the night sky through his window. The moon was out this night and there were plenty of stars out that he could see. It for some reason calmed him a bit. He not sure why but, he did not question it.

When Tahmina spoke about talked about a new plan and a target. "One door closes and another door opens." He said quietly to himself. At least they got something to do while the techs search the laptop for any information that could be useful. Maybe she might know something or maybe she does not. Still, better to try their options while they can and not just sit around waiting for a lead to come to them.

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Tayner
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Postby Tayner » Mon Jan 11, 2021 2:04 am

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Johnathan McBryde


The U.S. Airborne Sapper stood on the tarmac of the airport, arriving fashionably late to his new unit due to an administrative issue with his orders. He had three bags, two large sea bags containing his military equipment, and a small personal bag containing some personal effects, namely a carton of Marlboro reds and civilian clothes. He slung his personal bag over his shoulder and carried his green sea bags to the barracks, finding a bunk and securing his equipment. He exited and looked around. The team had left not long ago, and John would have to sit the first mission out.

He lit a cigarette, and watched the Russian and Turk soldiers do their thing. Some things never changed, no matter what country you were from. Soldiers were standing guard, others shooting shit, and those on work details were all pitching in to hopefully get things over with so they could resume shooting the shit. He would take a drag from the cigarette, and then snuffed it out. He headed to the chow hall, and managed to get a meal in before eventually the team returned, after dark. Even in the dark it didn't take a genius to tell that they weren't happy. Instead of pry, he took a head count mentally.

At least they're all alive.

He found his way to the commander, Captain Tahmina Azad, bearing Maple Leaves on her shoulders. "Captain Azad, I presume. I apologize for the mix-up, Sergeant Johnathan McBryde reportin'." He introduced himself, offering a handshake. "You need a hand with any of this?" He asked in reference to the duffle bag or two of collected intel. Hell, the least he could do was carry a bag after they went out and earned their paychecks.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
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Hastur
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Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Mon Jan 11, 2021 8:33 pm

OR-6 Charlotte ‘Tig’ Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023





Tiedemann sighed. Her scowling expression turning to that of dejection. Out of all the factors they could contend with, they had to compromise with bureaucratic whims of the host nation. Drones? too traumatised over the last war, we don’t wish to use them. Charlotte deemed it to be a ludicrous explanation. By them not providing a drone, even a small scale one presented by their associates, the Russians, they had imperiled the operation and had given the opportunity of another sarin assault on civilians in Azerbaijan. It wasn’t against them, however, and given their loss of the war in 2020, she assumed somewhat cynically that they didn’t care enough to do anything other than producing appearances.

But she took the hint when Mueller told her to shut up in the politest way possible in german, she bit her tongue for now even though she disagreed with the sentiment, chosing to remain quiet for most of the ride back, alert to surroundings as they drove towards the airport. Her cynicism being more motivated by her frustration than anything else, she knew that the intelligence would take time to get processed, could be days or weeks of work, and it wasn’t even assured to produce anything substantial. Time, like sand in an hour glace, was trickling away from them at a steady pace. Charlotte found that the most perturbing, as she thought of time as a perpetual double agent to everybody so long as the earth continued to spin and somebody continued to draw breath. One that could never be broken or subjugated, only taken advantage of and used in the correct fashion.

Time wasn't on the teams side, Petrosian had the intiative now, they’d need to find a way to leverage it back.

It was around this moment that the commander came up with a fresh idea. Something that they could move on while the boys in intelligence got to hard work. Taking advantage of other elements overlooked that were in play. It involved detaining the spouse and questioning her, which half surprised Charlotte, she’d assumed rather niavely that the Armenians hadn’t picked her up already, but she could understand why they hadn’t, specifically when she accounted for the lack of drone coverage. But it was an opportunity, if a crude one and not especially attractive one. The pros and cons weighing in Charlottes brain as she pored over it despite the distinct deficiency of alternative moves to play.

The scheme depended on how much Petrosian actually communicated with his wife, and how much he cherished her. With her, on one hand, she could take them right to him with the right insentivisation, and on the other she could drive them in circles. With Petrosian, If he cared about her, it’d be a double-edged sword. Loved ones in jeopardy made people emotional, erratic, more susceptible to mistakes, but it likewise made them, on occasions, unpredictable. Charlotte didn’t like unpredicatablity, or uncontrolled chaos, it was something that generally demonstrated to be more dangerous than anything else, something that often got people killed.

“It’s a lead.” Charlotte responded, her voice and expression calm again, the aggressive undertone largely dissipating to the air. She was atleast happy that there was a step forward, Charlotte preferring to be proactive than reactionary. “Doesn’t come without risks. Might make him more erratic if he finds out. Erratic can be useful, but unpredictability is rarely good.” She continued, leaning against the door as she spoke. “But with no other solid leads, it sounds like we’re going to have to play that hand, nevertheless.”

The SUV eventually pulled up on the tarmac, back at the base where they could go back into standby and loom over the events that had transpired today. The vehicle coming to a halt near where it had formerly left off just an hour beforehand, Turkish and Russian peacekeepers observing them. An unfamiliar face stood waiting, a man in his mid to late thirties dressed in what looked like a standard attire, Charlotte quickly observing an American flag patch on his shoulder. She assumed late appearance, someone that would have been great an hour ago but had likely got screwed over by managerial ineptitude.

Charlotte exited the from the vehicle, casually wandering to the backend to collect the intelligence so that she could deliver it hself, to which the American, named Johnathan McBryde, offered to carry the duffle bag of intelligence it for them. He maintained some sort of southern accent that Charlotte couldn’t quite point out, having only met a narrow pool of Ami’s in her career, most of them being navy SEALS through cooperative training programs during her time in counter piracy. He didn’t look like a SEAL, however, so charlotte deduced rather obviously, that he must be army, or possibly airforce, but with the mariad of special operations units that they put to use, she’d be unable to pinpoint for sure.

“Unless the skipper has got any objections, knock yourself out Mcbryde.” Charlotte replied, putting a phrase she’d learned from her American comrades to use as she removed the duffle bag from the vehicle’s trunk, setting it on the ground for him to pick up. “Might want to get your kit ready to go, we’re on standby.”
Last edited by Hastur on Mon Jan 11, 2021 8:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

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Dayganistan
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Postby Dayganistan » Thu Jan 14, 2021 5:30 pm

The team, of course, was not happy. Tahmina couldn't help but think of what could have gone better. It was of course partially down to the Armenians. They didn't want drones in the area, too traumatic for civilians, approaching three years since the end of the terror that was Azerbaijani drones. But she could have made a better choice here. She could have gotten a Black Hornet nano drone up, no way a drone small enough to fit in the palm of one's hand copuld traumatize civilians. She could have fired a HuntIR round from her grenade launcher and a camera suspended from a parachute could simply glide over the area. She preferred not to mention these thoughts to her team, not bring one or even both of these pieces of equipment would have just screamed incompetence.

When they arrived back at the airfield, she was greeted by an American. Sergeant McBryde, Army Rangers. He was supposed to be with the team, but a mix up delayed him by a few hours. Would having him there had made the difference? Impossible to say.

"Help out with the documents if you want," she said to the American. "I have to go make a call to the higher ups. So all of you, keep yourselves busy for the time being. Or just relax, I'm not your mother I'm not going to tell you what to do."

She left the group, walking the 50 meters or so from the Land Cruiser to the plane the team had flown in on. Inside not only was it a transport craft, but it had a small command center as well. In the command center, she picked up a satellite phone and dialed a number. The phone rang for a few seconds, before a British accented male voice answered.

"The mission went bad and Petrosian escaped, I already know. You don't need to apologize, the Armenians kind of screwed us with their drone problems," The British man, Rainbow's overall commander, said.

"Not calling to apologize, I'm calling to get permission to take in Petrosian's wife ourselves," she replied. "I know you have to clear it with the Armenians first but I just want to make sure you're on board with it first."

There was a pause before the commander spoke again. "Honestly it's probably the quickest way to deal with whatever he might be planning. Either she knows something that can lead us to him or tell us what he's planning, or if he knows we took her he'll do something irrational and get himself captured or killed by the Azerbaijanis. Draw up a plan and fly out when you've got it ready, I'll deal with getting permission from the Armenians in the meantime."

Tahmina hung up the phone and started looking through her tablet at their dossier on Petrosian. His wife was one Lusine Petrosian, aged 30. Rainbow had a dossier on her, but it was relatively sparse. She married Petrosian in 2018. She had a degree in computer science from Yerevan State University and previously worked for the National Security Service as a SIGINT and computer specialist. She retired after the Karabakh War to take a better paying job in the civilian sector, a supervisor at a tech support call center, as her husband was struggling to find and keep a civilian job due to physical injuries and mental trauma after the war. Wouldn't be too difficult to capture if operatives were waiting for her to leave work. Tahmina had a plan, she just had to wait for approval from the Armenian authorities to come through before she could present it to her team.

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Tayner
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Postby Tayner » Thu Jan 14, 2021 7:12 pm

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Johnathan McBryde


”Unless the skipper has got any objections, knock yourself out Mcbryde.” A German operator said. He nodded and raised an eyebrow to the Captain who was quick to give him an answer.

“Help out with the documents if you want, I have to go make a call to the higher ups. So all of you, keep yourselves busy for the time being. Or just relax, I'm not your mother I'm not going to tell you what to do." She spoke in a voice that showed her distain over the botched mission. McBryde understood in his own way, he’d been fighting for a while, took his fair share of defeats that could’ve been prevented. He smiled and picked up the Duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he turned to the German.

“I didn’t catch your name.” He simply stated, offering his hand before moving to walk towards the headquarters building. “Care to join me, catch me up to speed?” He said, hoping the phrase would be understood by someone who spoke English as a second language. To be fair, McBryde only knew a few basic German sayings like “thank you” and “where’s the bathroom.” He did pick up a fair bit of Russian, the Army paying soldiers more for knowing the language, and he could handle himself in a conversation in Spanish from his high school education. By no means was he a linguist, but he liked to think he knew a thing or two about knowing a thing or two.
If anyone askes where we were Saturday at 14:30, we were at The Pub, understand?

-If it's stupid, but it works, it ain't stupid.
-No Combat Ready unit has ever passed inspection.
-No Inspection Ready unit has ever passed combat.
-There is nothing more satisfying to you then having the enemy shoot at you, and miss.
-Remember, your weapon was made by the lowest bidder.
Disclaimer: The sig is out of date and I probably won't update it

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Bolslania
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Founded: Mar 07, 2018
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Bolslania » Fri Jan 15, 2021 6:32 am

Mueller slung his duffel over his shoulder, picking up a laptop and another duffel from the warehouse. He gave the new guy, an American by the accent, a nod.

"Come on, let's get these to the intel guys before their heads explode." He said, while it was a humorous statement, Mueller consistent calm and collected tone wasn't. He walked over to where Rainbow's intel officers had set up a tent.

"Hey Mueller, whatcha got for us?" One of the intel guys said, Jameson, that was it.

"Documents and a laptop, the others have more stuff one them." Mueller said, setting down the gear as Jameson indicated.

"How'd your mission go?" He asked again, picking up the laptop and flipping it open, some of the other intel officers opened up the duffel and started pulling out papers to look through.

"Poorly, Petrosian got away. No casualties on our side though." Mueller said. Jameson nodded.

"Well I'll let you go." He said, Mueller nodded. A wave of fatigue had come over him just now, he wanted nothing more than to sit down and relax.
Last edited by Bolslania on Fri Jan 15, 2021 11:17 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Margaret DeFrey approaches end of term, BDP Candidate Bonifác Kočí is likely to make the primaries, along with Oie Sibul of the Green Party| Lobbyists clamor for more military spending, however they see little success, with the newly signed budget of 2055 seeing the Military receive only 12.5% of the budget.

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Hastur
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 175
Founded: Jul 01, 2017
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Fri Jan 15, 2021 5:54 pm

OR-6 Charlotte 'Tig' Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023




Tayner wrote:“I didn’t catch your name.” He simply stated, offering his hand before moving to walk towards the headquarters building. “Care to join me, catch me up to speed?”


“Charlotte Tiedemann.” Charlotte replied. “Resident frogman.” a tight but forced smile emerging as she returned a steady handshake to the soldier’s offer, seeking to remain cordial despite her frustrations. “I’ll do what I can to fill you in.” She followed McBryde and Mueller along the gloomy airstrip. Heading in the uncertain way of the ad hoc tent which sheltered the intelligence officers, who had the labourious task of scrutinizing through everything that they had within their duffle bags.

“Our HVT went to ground.” Charlotte explained quickly, her eyes locked rigidly in the direction forward as she spoke of the failed operation. “Slipped right out during the raid with, from what our intel told us, around three other guys. Heard us take out his sentry, I’d surmise.” Her voice wavered for a second, thinking about the events as she continued forward. Charlotte wasn’t exactly sure how it sounded to the latecomer, she hoped it made them sound unlucky rather than anything else. “Armenians in their infinite wisdom didn’t want a drone in the air, which means we had no idea they were leaving the compound.” She added, lazily pointing her right trigger finger to the black sky above as she mentioned aerial support. “And to speak frankly about the whole situation, we were under manned and prepared. The circumstances were just not on our side.” Charlotte turned her head towards him, weighing his attitude before she urged the conversation forward, planning on advising him on what the captain had proposed to do next. Lingering in silence for a moment until she could see that nobody was around before presenting the plan.

“The skipper is planning on snatching the spouse. We need the ok from the Armenians, of course, which I can’t imagine will be easy to get from them. But we’ll see if she knows anything useful on our HVT once we get it.” She expressed, trailing in closer as she kept her voice down as they ultimately reached at the intelligence tent. She wasn’t sure if any of the local or foreign personnel would pass on the material she was talking about if they overheard, but the potential compromise was nevertheless there if she didn’t watch herself. It was better to establish proper operational security now than likely regret it thereafter. “So I’d assumedly prep your civvies. Sounds like we’re heading for Yerevan.”
Last edited by Hastur on Fri Jan 15, 2021 6:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

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Tayner
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Tayner » Fri Jan 15, 2021 7:08 pm

Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023
Johnathan McBryde


McBryde smiled as Tiedemann filled him in. A German frog, there was a joke in there somewhere about secretly being French. He listened as they walked and talked, it honestly sounded like a botched mission that they couldn’t have controlled with what they had. “Sounds like a bad day. Glad to hear we have a plan going forward.” He spoke, keeping his voice as low as hers as she spoke about the team’s next steps. “The only easy day is yesterday or something like that.” He remarked before heading into the intel guys’ tent.

“I come bearing gifts, gentlemen.” He said, dropping the bag he was carrying next to the one that Mueller set down. “Save the questions, I wasn’t there, I’m just the delivery boy.” He joked before exiting the tent and returning to Tiedemann outside. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to her before taking one for himself and lighting it. “Civvies, huh? You think I can get away with blue jeans and a flannel, or am I gonna have to borrow some proper local attire?” He asked before headed to the chow hall, intending to get some coffee before getting his kit together.

As Tiedemann said, it wouldn’t be easy to get approval for their next mission, and the skipper all but told them to fuck off for the immediate future. John figured they had a few hours at least until they got called upon. Plenty of time for coffee and bullshiting.
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Bolslania
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Bolslania » Sat Jan 16, 2021 7:30 am

Tayner wrote: “Civvies, huh? You think I can get away with blue jeans and a flannel, or am I gonna have to borrow some proper local attire?”


Mueller chuckled as he passed the two.

"I think blue jeans and flannel will do just fine McBryde. We'll be wearing our tac rigs and plate carriers if I understand correctly, so we just need to look like PMCs." He said, extending a hand.

"Johannes Mueller, KSK." His tone was pleasant, but his regional accent was very clipped and sometimes made him sound angry, which he rarely was.
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Hastur
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Founded: Jul 01, 2017
Psychotic Dictatorship

Postby Hastur » Sat Jan 16, 2021 9:37 am

OR-6 Charlotte 'Tig' Tiedemann
Stepanakert International Airport
Armenian controlled Nagorno-Karabakh
March 17th, 2023




Charlotte let out a low scoff at McBryde’s saying as he headed off to the intel tent, exhibiting a shrewd grin briefly. She had heard it previously, although it had been shrouded with a harsh dosage of sarcasm from the boisterous American frogman during cross training exercise. The navy seal saying that he’d mentioned felt aptly applicable to the situation, however. Today's affairs had been treacherous and unfair, and tomorrow looked dubious, but she had made it through all that led up to this point. She’d just have to continue pressing onward, as each day could be more perilous than the next, as cheesy as it was.

Eventually the American returned, no longer bearing the duffle bag. He sauntered up, promptly presenting a Marlboro red cigarette, before selecting one out to smoke himself. Charlotte briefly shook her head respectfully. She had picked up the habit during her time in the boarding company, but abandoned the unpleasant habit after she went off active duty. She still occasionally partook from time to time, especially during moments of stress. But even if she did still smoke, it wouldn’t be Marlboros, she never appreciated the flavour, her poison would have to be Ernte 23, the supposed cigarette of the illuminati.

As the Johnathan and Muller made their way to the mess hall, the conversation of civvies came up, Charlotte snorting at the mentioning of wearing flannel and jeans, and if he should get something more locally appropriate. The guy was seeming like a stereotype of the average American southerner she'd seen in the hollywood depictions, which amused Charlotte quite a lot. It got the notion into her head of what she’d be wearing, however. Her civvies she had with her were metropolitan, a set of blue jeans, rather plain black blouse, green bomber jacket, rayban sunglasses and some comfortable sneakers. Stuff that would ordinarily work in any considerable city outside of minor details that people could pick up on. Regardless of how thoroughly that would help her phase into the population, she’d have trouble fitting in ethnically. She didn’t look or sound remotely Armenian. Best-case scenario, they’d be confused for Russian peacekeepers off duty from one of the bases. Worst case, people would start asking questions.

“I don’t expect people will look at you too funny unless you put on your cowboy hat and your gunbelt sheriff.” She added to Mueller’s statement, including a playfully sarcastic manner as she grabbed a seat at a mess hall table. She became much more serious on the mentioning of carriers, the other german liking them to private security contractors. “If we wish to blend in, we shouldn’t be.” Charlotte added swiftly. Her tone becoming more natural as she took a sip of the cheap black coffee, her mouth subtly twitching in disgust briefly as the caustic taste hit home. “Last thing we need is locals calling the police and us suffering a mixup.” She’d done surveillance before and even undercover work once, but more so in the capacity of a bodyguard through high threat protective security for a german cabinet member aboard. Charlotte learned that on both sides of the fence that being discreet was key, and from what the skipper had briefly alluded to, it sounded like they’d have to do a lot of waiting. Armed white guys and gals in the city in carrier rigs would attract a lot of attention. She’d imagine that they’d be carrying compact firearms, things that are easily concealed. Personal defense weapons, short barrelled carbines and sidearms at the most.

“How’s was the KSK, anyhow?” She continued, changing the subject to Mueller. She’d cooperated with the special forces command before 2020, right up until the defense minister declared that they’d be partially disbanded over far right extremism, a full company if she recalled rightly. KSM had to pick up that slack at the time. “And what about you? which one of the many American special forces unit are you from? I've already crossed SEAL off the list.” She inquired, turning the conversation onto McBryde, taking a longer swig of the disgusting excuse that was the bases coffee, throwing it down before she could even taste it.
Last edited by Hastur on Sat Jan 16, 2021 9:57 am, edited 7 times in total.
The limbed and headed machine of pain and undignified suffering is firing up again. It wants to walk the desert. Hurting. Longing. Dancing to disco music.

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