TASK FORCE GUNGIR|OPERATION BAPTISM|IC|

[Bolslania]

Ramstein AFB
Ramstein-Meisenbach, Germany
1000 Hours
SSO Julia "Venom" Smith
Hermes 2-5

A light rain washed the pavement of Ramstein AFB as Venom observed the happenings of the base, clipboard tucked under one arm. Her nut brown eyes scanned the flight line as a multitude of C-130s and various other transport aircraft prepped for flights to wherever they were needed. She strode along a pathway that had been chiseled out for managers just like her to come and go as needed. She passed several people on her way, the other USAF personnel knowing better than to say anything other than a pleasant greeting.

She arrived at her destination, a hangar that housed a single MC-130J, which had been scrubbed of all its USAF identification and given a new set of numbers. She prowled about the hangar in search of its crew. She found them loitering around a table that had been set up under the left wing of the aircraft.

"Morning James." She said, the pilot turned from his game of cards to face her.

"Morning boss, what brings you here?" He asked. Venom got right to the point.

"I'm going to need you to lift three operators to Al Dhafra Air Base. Here is the list of the kit they'll be bringing." She said, handing over the clipboard to the crew. They pored over it for a moment before the pilot responded.

"Sounds simple enough, does this have anything to do with us flying Steel to Al Dhafra a few weeks back?" Venom nodded silently. James grunted.

"Well then, we can be ready to lift off by 1800 Hours. I presume you'll get us the necessary clearance?"

"When have I ever failed you?" She asked, a smile creeping onto her face. James chuckled.

"Fair enough." Venom turned to walk back out the hangar.

"While you guys get set up, I need to get your cargo briefed. Catch ya later." She said. She made her way to one of the many small buildings that dotted Ramstein AFB, this particular one was tucked into a corner of the base, surrounded by other buildings. Non-descript in every fashion. She opened the door, revealing a decently furnished lounge area, housing a 52" TV and couch, as well as a small fridge. She helped herself to a can of Coca-cola, before she found a seat at a small table and waited for the TFG operators to arrive.

[Dayganistan]

Furir Elin Nylund
Ramstein Air Base

A black Volvo S60 waited behind several other cars at one of the gates to Ramstein Air Base. When it finally reached the guard post, the US Air Force Security Forces airman manning the post would see a blonde woman in civilian athletic wear. They looked enough like a local.

"Do you have identification with you?" the airman asked, in German. The woman driving the car could vaguely understand, as she was a native Swedish speaker, and produced Swedish military identification which would identify her as Furir Elin Nylund of the Swedish Armed Forces. No unit information was present, but the civilian attire would lead the airman to assume she was some sort of special operations or intelligence type "I don't speak German," Elin said to the airman, who quickly realized she was of a higher rank than him.

"Sorry ma'am, no uniform and you look enough like a German to me. Go on through." The gate to the base opened and Elin drove through. She was, in fact, a special operations type as the airman manning the guard post had assumed. She was first and foremost a member of the Swedish Särskilda Operationsgruppen, or SOG. But beyond that, she had been assigned to the secretive Task Force Gungnir as part of Sweden's contribution to the task force upon the country joining NATO. Elin though it was oddly fitting that a NATO SOF task force named for the spear of Odin would be established so close to Sweden joining NATO, but surely it was just coincidence and some desk jockey at NATO HQ thought it sounded cool. Either way, she had been selected for reasons far above her pay grade, and was not given a timeline on when she would return to her parent unit in Sweden. Now, she was on her way to a briefing, possibly for her first mission with her new team.

She wondered what the mission could potentially be. Conventional warfare raged on the eastern fringes of Europe and this was the catalyst that had forced Sweden into NATO. The Middle East was tearing apart as usual and China was looking to assert itself in Southeast Asia and Africa at the expense of western interests. She had seen some worrying news reports coming out of Pakistan as well, a country of over 200 million people sliding into civil war and worsening humanitarian crisis as armed conflict intensifies. Any one of these could be their mission, but she would just have to wait and not think about it.

She pulled her car into a small parking lot near a non-descript building. This building belonged to Task Force Gungnir, not surprising they would pick something that was both an inconspicuous building, and in a relatively quiet corner of the base. She grabbed her metal water bottle from her passenger seat and got out of her car, making her way through the light rain towards the entrance of the building. Elin would enter the building and find a lounge type room not unlike other SOF team rooms she had been in before whether with SOG or joint training and ops with other units. None of the other operators had yet to arrive, but one of their support personnel had arrived. She gave the American woman a "good morning" as she went to get the coffee maker started. Swedes were major coffee drinkers after all, and she hoped the others would appreciate having fresh coffee available to them.

[Kyraina]

CMSGT. Joseph "Bear" Bridges
Early Morning

Despite the light rain, a blue and sliver Harley Davidson Street Glide roared down the road, towards Rammstein AFB. Bear was in his OCP uniform, with a Black Harley Cloth Jacket, Black and Sliver Full face Helmet, black gloves, and a Yellow Reflective PT Belt hanging across his shoulders to his waist. As He wove his way around the twisty roads of the The Palatine Forest, before He reached the Main Gate of Rammstein AFB.

He rolled up to the Gate, and waited his turned, and showed the Young SecFo airman at the gate his CAC. He rolled on to base, and made his way straight to the MPF on base. 3-4 hours later he left there, and much arguing with a Staff SGT, and the MPF's Squadron superintendent, he Had finally got what He came from a CAC for Furir Nylund. It also had a sticky not that had her initial long in info for it. He pocketed the CAC in his Blouse. put all his motorcycle gear back on, and road to the building that TFG had been given to use. After parking the Harley in a designated Motorcycle spot. He took of His his helmet and gloves, and headed inside.

He walked into the lounge area, took stock of who is in the room, and found a spot to set down his helmet and gloves. He had spotted just Julia and Elin.

"Well Venom its a either here we go again situation, or Is the mission going to go smoother then last time or are any ammo cases with rockets in them gonna get thrown around again? Also Furir Nylund, I got your CAC Here. You'll have computer Access now, and You can use it to get on base, should have a smoother time getting on base now."

He took off his jacket, and laid it down on his helmet. He then took the Elin's New CAC out of his pocket.

[Herador]

Kaiserslautern
0600 Hours
Harold Quinn

The alarm was going off again.

"Harry, I gotta-"

"Nah." He wrapped Nina up tighter before she extracted herself.

"Go get Ellen up, you know she pitches a fit if I try to do it." She gave Harry a kiss on the forehead and made her way to the bathroom, harry listened to the shower run for a moment before rolling out of bed and making his way down the hall to wake Ellen up. They played their usual game, he tried to shake her shoulder? Nothing. talking to her only got an annoyed grumble. Finally, he flipped on the lights and picked up his little girl. "It's time to get up Ellen, come on. Shower and then I'll make us all some...?" He left the question in the air but knew the answer.

"Pancakes!"

"Of course, Pancakes."

---

Rain streamed off the windshield as Harry sat in his little Golf and stared at the text on his phone, a picture of Nina and Ellen smiling in front of Ellen's school and a message wishing him the best. He never told them he left the phone at Ramstein when he left, he wanted them to think he was looking it the photos they sent before he left on one of his "business trips", as they explained them to Ellen. Turning off the phone and putting it in the glove box, he stepped out into the rain and pulled his coat tight around him, walking past the other cars and towards one of the large hangers. His thoughts turned to home again, he already missed his girls, but Nina always supported him even if she didn't, couldn't more accurately, know what he was doing. He chuckled to himself and kicked a stone on the path. Maybe he wouldn't re-up his contract, he had the language skills to become an interpreter, and he and his family could live without the constant threat of his death hanging over his head.

Harry stepped inside GUNGIR's little office building and hung up his coat. Brushing down his hoodie and trying to look presentable, he carried on inside to the briefing area to find a small group already inside. "Morning Elin, Bear, Julia ." Harry greeted as he trudged past them. They knew his pre-mission funks, he'd known most of his team for a while at this point, hell most had even gone to Ellen's last birthday party and she knew a few by name. Pouring himself a cup, he sat down on one of the couches. Where would they be going this time? Nina had put her bet on Ukraine, though Harry wasn't so sure.

[Bolslania]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR[/b]
SSO Julia"Venom" Smith
ATHENA 7-6

She gave a curt nod to the only non-American member of this team. The Swedish sergeant got started on brewing some coffee for the other members of the team. Two of whom drifted their way in. It was their medic, Harry Quinn, and CCT, Bear. Julia and Bear had been on the same team in Estonia, and had somewhat bonded over surviving the shitshow that was Operation Intermission.

"Well Venom its a either here we go again situation, or Is the mission going to go smoother then last time or are any ammo cases with rockets in them gonna get thrown around again?"

Venom chuckled at the American NCO's remark.

"Well Bear, I sure hope it isn't a 'here we go again' situation." She said, rolling out her left arm, the bullet that had gone through it and taken a decent amount of muscle mass with it still causing her discomfort. She pushed herself up from where she had been leaning against the table and flicked on the TV, bringing up a slideshow that she had assembled a few days ago.

"Alright shitheads listen up. We're still waiting on some people, but we'll have to catch them up later." She started, giving the three present operators a moment to situate themselves before she continued.

"As you all probably know, things have gone to shit in Pakistan, and the Pakistani's have lost themselves a few nukes. Your job is to recover the nuclear-tipped cruise missiles from Masroor airbase and transport them to Pasni, where the Chesty Puller will be waiting to pick them up and exfil you. You'll be flown into Al- Dhasra airbase, picked up by the Puller, and then dropped off in the green zone of Karachi by helicopter. From there, you'll link up with Steel, who's been in Karachi for 3 weeks, and work on getting the nukes before ISIS does. Clear?" She rattled, sliding through the presentation, showing maps and images of relevant locations to the operation.

[Dayganistan]

Furir Elin Nylund
Ramstein Air Base

Elin took the plastic card she was presented by Bear. It was similar enough to her Swedish military ID and had the same photo on it, but this was apparently the one she needed on an American military base. Not a surprise given her country's recent admission to NATO that her documentation wasn't completely accepted, but a little frustrating that she didn't have full access to classified systems yet. "Thanks, maybe your security forces can stop trying to speak German when I come to the gate out of uniform now," she said. The coffee machine had by now finished brewing and she poured a cup for herself.

The team's medic, Harry, came in shortly after and gave a good morning to the team, which Elin returned. She thought so far that Harry was a good man with a good family, and a daughter too young to understand what her dad actually does when he goes away on his "business trips." Harry was the one member of the team Elin would not want to have to inform the family of their death precisely for that reason. She didn't think she could bear telling such a young child that her father died and was actually in the army this whole time. Harry was one of the first team members to try to organize some sort of social event outside of work hours by inviting the team to his daughter's birthday party and Elin appreciated his attempt at team building. This group was probably going to need it. A bunch of Americans from different services who all do things slightly differently, and her as currently the only outsider not from America.

"Alright shitheads listen up. We're still waiting on some people, but we'll have to catch them up later," Venom called from across the room. Elin turned to face the American woman who was now briging up a presentation on one of the screens. The team was going to Pakistan, somewhere Elin had thought would be a possible deployment giving the situation in that country. But it was a lot worse than she realized. Islamic State involvement and missing nuclear weapons from a Pakistani air base. And they were going to be operating in Karachi, a large and heavily populated city. If Elin was completely honest with herself, this mission was a disaster waiting to happen. But, that's why Task Force Gungir was on the case, a team that's theoretically the best of the best should be able to get it done.

"I just have one question, why do we have to drive the warheads so far away and can't just carry them back to the government controlled districts of Karachi to be picked up? The government still controls the port and naval base, yes?" Elin asked.

[Romic]

CMO Dean "DJ" Jensen
Early Morning

Dean walked his way from the mess hall to the building the task force was granted to use. He reflected on his time in the army and realized that he had not been to Germany before for deployment or for work with the Agency. The light drizzle of rain was calming to him the sounds of the hustling and bustling boots and gear was oddly pleasing. He tore open the orange he had carried with him from the mess. The aromatic citrus smell filled his nostrils sinking his teeth into the soft fruit. He loved the hell out of oranges, tangerines, and other citrus fruits. Lemonade being his go-to drink for eating out and for the pesky mixers for vodka and jack.

He slinked his way into the conference room as "Venom?" he thought to himself, "I think that's the name." was going over the basics of their first real mission.
-Pakistan "Great another hot desert place that will be irradiated in 100 years."
-Lost nukes "Fuck, maybe tomorrow?"
-Drive it several miles "This seems like a bad idea."

Then the Swede made an excellent point and Dean let out a sigh of relief. "I agree with the lady, why would we transpo that shit across the hostile and unfriendly territory with so many unknowns? As much as I hate the water, I'll take that over IEDs. Those things messed us up in Baghdad and I'd prefer to not be in a blast radius." he peeled and began chewing on another slice of orange. "My next question, what kind of local support if any can we expect? What support do we have on hand to assist? This goes too sideways we could be in for a nuclear shitstorm."

[Hastur]

Sergeant First Class Sashenka "Smeesh" Rodionova Smeshnaya
Task Force Gungnir
Ramstein-Meisenbach, Germany

---

---

She walked the tarmac at this airbase many times, but only as a brief footnote in her career as she flew off to wherever it was she was needed, a region she never really got to experience before becoming stationed here as part of their Task Force Gungnir assignment. Now it felt different, alien even, Sashenka still months of being in country with a feeling like she should be in motion, bracing for wherever she’d be getting sent next. The idleness hadn’t been comfortable however, the last few months had been hard, the thirty-four-year-old American going through a rigorous training cycle with cherry-picked operators, one designed to establish a sense of cohesion within the fledgling unit for deployments NATO didn’t want their fingertips on.

Sashenka had been voluntold about her placement by command nearly two months ago almost immediately following their return from Ukraine, snatched from the CAG assaulter team she had grown very comfortable with and slipped in with a crowd of people she didn’t entirely know. It left her with a certain measure of initial scepticism towards the job despite the fact that it wasn't all too unlike what she'd done in the green berets. But she made sure to keep that well stowed, keeping a resilient front as she threw herself at the task like a Pitbull, training hard with the other representatives of the team, being sure to bestow her own education and training onto the others, while absorbing theirs like a sponge.

The light drizzle was beginning to soak the OCP uniform she wore, the relevant patches and tabs adorned on her arm catching occasional looks as she made her way into the depths of the airbase. The briefing held within a small building amongst many others, out of sight and out of mind, nondescript except for the clearly non-standard personnel waltzing in and out of it, Sashenka becoming one of those as she wandered in. The room was as small inside as out, sparsely decorated, harbouring the basic requirements to keep people informed of the situation. Sashenka wandered to the corner, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, as the briefing began.

A glare quickly formed in her eyes, irritation flowing as it became clear how bad of a situation they'd be thrown into. Pakistan had been making most major news cycles recently due to the insurgency which had been plaguing the country, but losing an airbase with their nuclear weapons still inside was a different story entirely, especially with Islamic extremist factions running amok. If the nuclear genie got loose from its bottle, Sashenka knew they'd have a hard time getting it back in, the task ahead of them seemed colossal with the numbers they had.

Questions began to flow, the swede asking why they had to take the nuclear weapons cross country, and the non-SF CMO attache asking about local support, Sashenka had more general questions.

"What's the enemy force on the ground like, composition, numbers?" Sashenka asked, her irritation still lingering on her face despite her best attempts at hiding it. "We're going to need air at least and some sort of QRF. I'm not going to lie, we're going to have to seize an airfield and hold it, and with the numbers we have if they roll up on us with any sort of heavy force, we're getting smoked."

[Bolslania]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR
SSO Julia"Venom" Smith
ATHENA 7

Venom waited for a moment as the questions began to flow in. Some of the operators had already realized just how far up shit creek they were. She answered the questions in the order that they'd been asked.

"Up until recently, the Pakistani's didn't have enough control over the port to make the Navy comfortable sending in the Puller, but that changed roughly 36 hours ago, so we can discuss altering the plan with the Captain of the Puller when we're en route from the UAE to Pakistan. However, Grey believes that the PLA is operating in the region, and they're certainly gonna try and fuck with us in Karachi, and Balochistan, where Pasni is, is fully secured by the Pakistani military." Moving on to DJ, she spoke to the desk jockey that she had actually known for a while.

"Local support is what the Pakistanis have in the city, which is 2 divisions worth of infantry, 2 companies of AFVs, and PMCs." Moving on to Smeesh, she replied

"Grey estimates SPLA strength in the city to be roughly 6,000 fighters, but its likely that they've been recruiting from the population of Karachi as well. As far as we know they're just like any other irregular fighters. They've got RPGs and soviet AA guns mounted on trucks, but nothing super fancy. In terms of QRF, best thing you've got is probably the PMCs the Pakistani's hired, and theres also an MEU in Islamabad. For air support, you've got a US strike squadron in Islamabad, and whatever can be flown out the UAE or Turkey."

[Anowa]

Sergeant Anastasiya "Rusalka" Komissarova
Task Force Gungnir
Ramstein-Meisenbach, Germany

---

---

The room was dead, yet the sole person in it had lessons ringing in her head when she made the decision to come here early. Early enough that no one else was present, early enough that there wasn't any coffee, and early enough that she hadn't even stopped off to drop what little personal belongings she had in to her spot in the equally barren barracks set aside for Gungnir. In full battle rattle, the door opened and in walked a woman, oblivious to her. The way she carried herself, said soldier, but the minutiae said pilot, same as Anya. There was a moment of confusion before Anya realised the couch she was sat on had a similar pattern and color scheme to the multicam she was wearing, was the reason for a lack of notice, not the likely perception that the TFA Veteran who walked in tryint to pretend the Canadian didn't exist. The room had been a lounge at some point, considering the slowly falling apart counter remained, with previously mentioned coffee maker and some recently purchased mugs, on it. No cupboards however, just some drawers.

A few others shuffled in, one started making coffee, a Swede given the accent. Anya had a flash of concern at that revelation, while yes, Sweden was going through a rather quick ascension process to NATO, it seemed a little like jumping the gun in this specific case. Then came Bridges, with a smarmy comment. If looks could kill, there would be a second sunrise over Ramstein-Meisenbach that morning. Yet the Canadian remained silent.

The revelation of nuclear ordinance being involved was a grim one, but the mission set before them was just another on the conga line.

"If we're relying on a QRF from Turkey or the UAE, the only thing they'll be reacting to is corpses. Do we have permission to scuttle the warheads? and Do we have permission to liquidate any civilians, or are we going to have to pray they don't sell us out like Estonia? If it was even them."

[South Americanastan]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR
SGT Micheal "Mike" Long

The wheels of an old 1988 Chevrolet Nova rolled across the asphalt on the road to Ramstein Air Force Base. Inside the car, Micheal sat in the driver's seat, bobbing his head to the music playing from the radio. Driving to the base was rather calming, even if he knew things would be anything but calm once he got there. Either way, he hardly was able to choose whether to go or not, and he might as well enjoy the calmness before he showed up.

Soon enough, the car arrived at the gate to Ramstein AFB, and Mike turned the volume of the radio down before rolling down his window.

"Hey man! How's it going?" He handed his ID card over to the SecFo airman manning the checkpoint,

Suddenly, the radio in his car began blasting as if at full volume.

~~WELCOME TO 102.9 REAL ROCK FM~~

~~Sound of glass shattering~~

~~ALL ROCK, ALL THE TIME~~

~~Guitar riff~~

Mike quickly shot his arm towards the radio's volume knob to turn it to "0".

"Okay, you're good" the guard handed him his ID. He drove his car through the airbase, towards one of its corners. Finally, he stopped at a nondescript parking lot next to a similarly nondescript building. He rustled through his bag for a compass.

This is the right corner, right? he thought to himself. Checking the compass gave a resounding "Yes" and as such he found a parking space and parked his car. Pushing open the driver's side door, he stepped out of the car and walked towards the building. He gave a light knock on the door before pushing it open and stepping inside the building.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. What'd I miss?"

[Monfrox]

Things happen for a reason. That was what Michelle believed as a devout Christian as she finished the reps for her morning PT session. In her time since being a Combat Engineer, she found a lot of things end up coincidently coming together. Who they come together for, though, is a different matter entirely. Michelle had been through the wringer on a few ops before, but nothing she and her team couldn’t entirely handle. Despite this, casualties were still a part of combat. It took a lot of time to get used to it, but she knew her fallen teammates would rather she not dwell on their passing. After all, it wasn’t up to her to decide who lives and who dies in the grand scheme of things.

Michelle worked out this frustration through her PT session that helped keep her in the best shape she could be in. She needed to be on top of it, now more than ever. After her time in Delta, she knew that a chain was only as strong as its weakest link. Now she was a part of a new chain, and one that seemed to be more “tip of the spear” than anything she had done before. Task Force Gungnir was a multi-national unit with farther reaches than USSOCOM could dream of. Maybe almost as far as the CIA. It meant that missions would be harder and carry more risk, and that she would need to bring her A-game every time.

Well, that was just fine for her. Michelle wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. Being rotated to Rammstein AFB in preparation a few weeks prior was a sign. They wanted her rested and relaxed and ready to go. And she was. With the PT done, she made herself a small meal of rice with chicken and washed it down with some lemonade before checking the time. Better get going. The rule of thumb was “never be more than five minutes late and never be more than fifteen minutes early”.

Michelle put on her ACUs as well as the raincoat to go over it. She headed out from the barracks to the local meeting area that was rumored to be some kind of waste maintenance storage or some other mundane thing to keep prying Airmen from wandering too close. Disinformation. Michelle headed in and took her jacket off when she reached the lounge, throwing it onto the back of a chair she sat in.

More operators filed in to what reminded her of stories she had heard about the old Recon Clubs MACV-SOG had on their bases back during the Vietnam War. When everyone had entered, they were given the briefing for their first mission. It didn’t take long to get questions, but Michelle was characteristically quiet with her Cheshire smile ever present. She took it all in, letting the others voice the main concerns for her. Odd, though, as some of them seemed to ring a few bells in her head when they talked. But something about driving a bunch of nukes across a war-torn country seemed almost fun to her. After all, how many opportunities like this come up in a lifetime?

[Herador]

Harry Quinn

Harry listened to the others intently, he was never the planning guy and relied on them to ask the big questions. Standing up he shuffled over to the window and lit himself a cigarette. Smeesh seemed upset at the whole situation, who wouldn't be? A nuke going Broken Arrow was a worst-case scenario and in that part of the world? He took a long drag off his smoke and blew it outside.

"Boss lady, I got a question." He finally said during a lull. "Are we sure the Paks didn't let this happen?" Another drag before he continued. "I know we all know that certain parts of the ISI" he emphasized using heavy air quotes, "sometimes play for the other team. Are we going to have to fight local forces on top of everything else? Cause that puts us at a hell of a disadvantage."

[Ubaria]

Sergeant Gideon Van-Lingen
Task Force Gungnir
Ramstein-Meisenbach, Germany

---

---

Gum. Peppermint. Not too flavourful but at the same time it pushed out the nasty bitter lingering flavour of that morning's coffee. He hadn't been able to get a hold of the good stuff for a good while, Colombian medium roast, it had to be, the store bought stuff just didn't have the same kick to it as something that required a bit of effort to prepare, and of course, all fair trade. Gideon had marked down Colombia and the Andes as one of his next ventures, the high roads of Chile and the jungle paths of Peru however would have to wait, all those plans had gone out the window that fateful afternoon he picked up the phone. 'Why me?' Gideon had though numerous times from his flight up through the east coast of Africa and his connecting flight from Dakar to Frankfurt, a question that only held more questions than answers. Everyone had been friendly enough, though details were sparse and were only revealed to him slowly on a 'need to know' basis.

For a few weeks he had been living in and around Ramstein and although the company was amicable and the locals courteous enough, Gideon hated being trapped in the city, the cloying stench of exhaust fumes and the stifling urban air didn't settle well with him and neither did the food. He had gone so far as to venture into converting part of the officer's break room into his own kitchenette, much to the chagrin of the local lot who didn't appreciate the culinary pursuits as much as he. Nevertheless, he had made himself as much at home as possible, though word trickling down the wire was that was all about to change. 1000 hours was the summons and as Gideon checked his Luminox watch, it seemed that it was a minute past the hour. Boots sploshed through shallow puddles forming in the pits of the sidewalk as Gideon made a brisk pace towards the briefing point, a rec room at the other side of the damn base.

Though a few minutes late, it didn't seem to matter as not all of the entourage had arrived yet anyhow, only a sprinkling of his other task force comrades occupied the room with Smith waiting patiently with a soda at one side of the room. Gideon curtly nodded to all those who were present and inched over to the coffee pot, before thinking better of it. It wasn't long before the rest of the group arrived and the briefing started. There were murmurs of concern once the words 'nuclear' and 'missing' were spoken aloud, even more as the details began pouring in, what details there were, and none of them good.

From what was said, they were being sent in on a blowthrough operation with little to no reconnaissance of the area or enemy composition aside from light information regarding the possibility of militia fighters turning up with old soviet-era weaponry, which could have been said for half the shitholes in the world. The lack of preparation had Gideon frowning, considering the stakes that were riding on this.

"Aside the fact we're dropping into a veritable kakstorm with a handful of guys against what is quite likely a whole platoon's worth of ISIS goons who in all likelyhood just trekked across the border from old Afghanistan. Do we have any recourse the warheads are still even in there? If I were them, i'd have just popped the warhead into the back of a truck and driven back across the border as fast as I could, after all, all they need is the warhead itself. - Assuming they haven't because in all likelyhood the Paks have surrounded the whole damn airbase by the time we get there, why haven't they just touched it off there and then? Waiting for a bigger target? They're not getting a bigger target if they can't get it out the damn place." He took a moment to glance around the room. "Point being, I think they're using the nuke as one hell of a bargaining chip, and I think that affords us a little more time in planning out just how we're going to pull this off."

[Bolslania]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR[/b]
SSO Julia"Venom" Smith
ATHENA 7-6

Julia started as she heard a voice that she never thought she'd hear again speak up. She locked eyes with Anya, her face suspended in disbelief for a moment.

"No... no the Turks nor Emirates will not be the QRF, and scuttling the warheads is a worst case alternative. No killing civilians unless it is deemed absolutely necessary to the success of the mission."

How the fuck are you still alive? I watched your truck blow up, there's no way you survived. Venom quickly got a hold of herself, she would need to dig deeper into this at a later time.

To break the tension, in barged Mike Long.

"A can of whoop-ass is what you missed Mike, Pakis lost some nukes on an airbase and we gotta go get em back." She turned to face Harry as the dedicated family man asked his question.

"Its possible that they did, but if they did it was likely the actions of a single ISI or military officer, who's likely dead by now if your hypothetical is true. So no, we are not going to have to engage local forces."

The only non-NATO member of the team then spoke up, asking about the possibility that ISIS had already gotten the nukes.

"Grey and Osborne have been keeping an eye on SPLA and ISIS movement and comms, and so far the warheads are still sitting in their storage facility. The SPLA chucklefucks probably wouldn't know what a warhead even looked like, much less what to do with one. ISIS showed up only a few days ago, and thus far have yet to go for the nukes."

[Anowa]

Ames

Anya didn't blink for the whole of Julia's answering spree. The South African was an odd one out, everyone else seemed to either be the Swede or American. They didn't have anyone in outside of NATO last time around and it ended with a complete fuckfest of a compromisation. Now they technically had two, with a horde of Americans. The 'inside set of eyes' she had been tasked as being became more and more apparent as the clarity of this being another ill fated experiment by USSOCOM.

She tried to recollect as much info from the other faces as they came in, based on the redacted files she had been supplied with. Knowing the almost one way street NATO seemed to have built with the US, they likely knew a lot more about her than she did about them. Bridges was a coward, Quinn was a Green Beret, medically trained, "Smeesh" was an intel operative, Powell was EOD, and probably the youngest E-9 in USSOCOM, Grey probably had trouble carrying his kit, Long was Ranger Recon.

"So, if McKnight's Convoy Part 2 doesn't work out, are we waiting for you? Or do we have a bird on station that won't turn off their radio and leave us behind?" a pause, "I'd suggest me flying us out on a helicopter at the base, but you'd probably shoot me down because you can't add 5 and 4 together."

[Bolslania]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR[/b]
SSO Julia"Venom" Smith
ATHENA 7-6

Venom's settled on Anya as the Canadian posed a question laced with anger. She neatly avoided responding to the woman's snideness.

"Primary method of extract is a V-22 Osprey from the Chesty Puller, secondary methods include an alternate pick up point, or RIIBs launched from the Puller." She said.

"Now, your flight for Karachi begins in about 10 hours. Grey and Osborne will be meeting you at the DZ when you drop in. Good hunting."

---

14 Hours Later

The flight to Karachi had been reasonably smooth. The MC-130 that the TFG operators had been stuffed into making a quick stop at Al-Dhasra to refuel, before taking off again for the last leg to Karachi. As they approached the DZ, the jumpmaster came into the cargo compartment.

"Alright people! Get ready we're approaching the drop zone!" The rustling of equipment could be heard as the Operators stood up and checked their gear. The Jumpmaster came around, making sure that everyone's gear was properly arranged before he spoke again.

"Two operatives will be on the ground to meet you, the number of the day is 7!" He called out again before stepping to the side of the ramp. The ramp of the MC-130 began to lower with the sound of working hydraulics and the shrieking of air rushing into the bay. Once the door was fully lowered, verbal communication without radios was rendered pointless. The Jumpmaster began to count down from 5 with his fingers, clenching his fist to signal the operators to jump.

The free-fall down went off without a hitch, the operators managing to stay relatively close together as they streaked towards the ground, chutes began flying open in the night.

The Operators had just enough time to relieve themselves of their parachutes before they were hailed.

"5." Came a voice from the surrounding brush.

[Anowa]

OPERATION BAPTISM
DROP ZONE JACOBY
KARACHI, SINDH, ISLAMIC REPUBLIC OF PAKISTAN
0002 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR
SGT. Anastasiya "Pixy" Komissarova
MISSION CLOCK: D00:H00:M02:S05

The cacophony of feeling from the various scars and burns she had received didn't stop as easily when she landed, nor when she was packing her chute in to a single hidable mound. The drop's pressure changed chewed at her ears, knees, and caused a flare up of phantom pain in fingers she no longer had. The cold bit at her scars all the way to the bone, followed by the heat causing some relief to the jabbing pins and needles of what felt like frostbite. As the sweat began to pour off her, the right side of her torso remained bone dry.

"Two." a pause, "Though if you want, I can say Four, you'll have your excuse to actually kill me then."

Continuing her equipment check, she found nothing awry or damaged. Rifle was fine, M72s were fine, pistol was still in it's holster, sequestered away on her thigh. Slipping the single point sling on, she took a position on 360 and waited for the rest of the team to move.

[Herador]

Harry Quinn

He jumped out of the plane and was hit with a sensation of weightlessness. Turning himself over in freefall, he looked towards the stars, out here you could see everything. No light pollution, no cities, just the stars in the sky. It was an amazing thing to see, from this high up it felt like the universe was putting on a show just for him. Maybe they would move out somewhere remote one day when this was all done so he could show them the stars like he had been able to?

Didn't matter now, Harry thought to himself, he was surely falling behind the team so he straightened himself out like a dart and began to speed up, flying towards the ground at close to 120 mph. Pulling his cord the feeling of weightlessness faded and he was brought back to gravity's fold, slowly drifting towards the ground with the rest of his team. He landed in time to hear Anya give the pass phrase, which was fine by him.

Releasing his chute, and stowing his kit, Harry quickly ran a check on his medical bag, everything was thankfully in one piece, especially the antivenom he had to pack especially for this op. Shouldering his pack and grabbing his rifle, he formed up on Elin, tapping her shoulder. "All good? We should meet up with Bear and get this one on the road."

[Romic]

Sergeant Clayton "Ozzy" Osbourne
Task Force Gungnir
Area of Operations, Pakistan

---

---

The engine whirled down as Clayton took his hand off the boat's throttle. Nothing special, just a small skiff he and Grey "procured" from the green zone. Heavy gunfire littered the air of the city. Government forces withdrew from the airbase 7-ish days ago. Until then he and Grey were assigned to provide intel and keep the overlords in whatever capital ordered them here happy and informed. His job was supposed to be simple, provide close drone intel for teaching moments for American forces. Ever since the shit kicked off with Russia-Ukraine and China swinging its proverbial genitalia to the world, big blue daddy wanted to know what countries near China are most exploitable he supposed, especially since they assigned spooky boi Grey to be with him.

Queue Clayton being voluntold to make his way to yet another hot, dry, hell hole only to be described as Satan's dry scalp. This time though there were no other guys to lock in a portapot and trap with a camel spider. Clayton felt the thud of the shore as he zoned out for a moment. "We're here, time to march our asses to the LZ." he spoke to Grey softly.

[Bolslania]

RAMSTEIN AFB, GERMANY
1000 HOURS
TASK FORCE GUNGNIR
PMOO Jordan"Steel" Grey
Epsilon Team

30 minutes earlier

Grey nodded as Osborne whispered to him. Silently, he slipped out of the boat, rifle in his hands as he scanned the surrounding area as Osborne disembarked. In the dark, Grey signaled with his hand for the pair to move. They flitted from cover to cover like shadows, the clouds overhead making them nearly imperceptible to the naked eye. They were able to move relatively quickly, as most of the SPLA fighters were busy fighting government forces a few klicks away from them, the sounds of gunfire echoing in the night.

They moved around the north side of the airfield, the same 40 or so SPLA fighters standing around as they had been for the past week. Slipping past the guards was a trivial task for the pair of well-trained operators, the insurgents having neither the equipment nor wherewithal to spot them. The LZ was a 1 mile by 1 mile square, and Grey found a bush to sit in while he waited for the rest of the team to drop in. He watched in silence as the team landed and unburdened themselves of their parachutes, speaking once the were somewhat organized.

He stepped out of the brush when Anya gave the correct reply.

"I appreciate the offer." Grey replied to the Canadian's comment. He was very much surprised to see her still alive, but he had bigger fish to fry.

"Alright, we've got a spot near the airfield from which we can reconnoiter the area while the Pakistani's get into position. On me." He then led the team to a small overlook of the airfield, which provided them with cover to see the airfield without being spotted themselves. He led Smeesh, Ifrit, and Bear to the overwatch position, leaving everyone else in the defilade.

"Enemy disposition appears to be about 40 men. They appear to be barracked in that building there." Grey said, pointing out a mostly intact barrack left by the Pakistanis who previously inhabited the base.

"A few ISIS guys showed up a few days ago and got into an argument with the SPLA leader on site, what they were arguing about was unclear but it likely had to do with ISIS wanting to search or take over the base."

Currently, about a squad sized element was milling about this section of the base, some standing by the gate, smoking and talking, and others patrolling in pairs along the open airfield. They appeared as relaxed as untrained and poorly disciplined insurgents tended to be, with very little in the way of situational awareness present.

[Dayganistan]

Furir Elin Nylund
Karachi, Pakistan

As the rear ramp of the MC-130 lowered, Elin lowered her night vision goggles and waited her turn to jump, watching her teammates before her disappear into the night sky over Pakistan. When it was her turn she simply fell off the ramp as she had done thousands of times before both in training and operationally, into a rapid freefall before opening her parachute and gliding towards the LZ in a controlled descent. She made it to the LZ in a fairly uneventful descent, thankfully avoiding the highly venomous snakes active at this time of the day. After stowing her parachute, she raised her HK417 and held a security posture, scanning in the direction of the base. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the medic, Harry.

"Looks like our CIA friends found Bear already," Elin said, pointing her head in the direction of Grey leading a smaller group of operators to an overlook position over the airbase. Feeling she would be in this position for quite some time, Elin deployed her HK417 and its bipod and took a more comfortable prone position, or at least as comfortable as it could be. Despite most of her operations taking place in the deserts of the middle east and central Africa, she could never quite get used to the environment. The sand and dust wasn't so bad, neither was the heat. It was always the deserts which were more rocky and covered in shrubs she had a problem with since there was never anywhere truly comfortable to sit during long security halts.

"I'll keep watch towards the base from here, I'll let you know if I see anything," Elin said to Harry.

[Monfrox]

The drop had gone pretty much according to plan. Michelle had brought her Mk.18 with her modified M79 instead of The Pig on this op. She hadn't been told she'd be doing any overwatch, and with nukes in play that could be set up to detonate, she'd need to be ready in case they needed a quick defuse. She packed the parachute away and hid it, and then made sure all her secured gear was still where it was before the jump. Once satisfied, she pulled her lane on the 360 security. It wasn't long after that they made contact with their team and they were heading out. They moved out to a small ridge overlooking the base, a textbook place to do some recon from. She laid on her stomach and pulled out her spotting scope to get good eyes on the area.

"We should move in as close as possible before the Pakis begin their assault. If the Daesh have any smarts, they'll try to secure or move the warheads before the Pakis can get to them. We need to be ready to hit them before they lock it down or move out." The Sergeant Major advised as she observed the enemy.

It may have been a gut feeling, but she felt that a small platoon was quite a light security force for nuclear warheads. Something didn't sit right about it, and she wondered if the warheads were planning to be moved by some third-party or may already have been. If that was the case, their mission would become that much more complicated.

[Herador]

Harry Quinn

Quinn gave Elin a pat on the back. "Roger that. Hold tight for a sec, I'm going to check on everyone."

Snapping his NVG's into position, Harry weaved his way through the DZ's shrubs and rocks, checking in on everyone as he went like he had on so many operations before. Thankfully everyone seemed ok, some were even happy to see the Doc made it down alright, one of the little things about being Doc that made you smile on moonless nights in the middle of nowhere. Snaking his way back to Nylund, he took up a position next to her, leaning up against a rock and training his rifle vaguely forward.

"Everyone seemed alright," He said with a happy tone, "how are you holding up? Ozzy," He hissed out. "You doing alright man?"

[Andrenade]

Diego "Humboldt" Luna
The city of Karachi was an interesting sight. From what was portrayed, it would seem like all of Pakistan was an endless expanse and an otherwise more developed Afghanistan. If anything, his crew are bigger queens than any triple-a ensemble of actors were. No one back home would believe it, not even those that have cross trained with US SOCOM assets. He felt that he had some apologizing to do for the latter. Between pulling security, he let his mind think about the region. He couldn't complain, they were only a few stories above sea level, compared to the cavemen moors next door, whom. "Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on them, Id be forever belligerent to If my lungs knew nothing but thin air that the Afghan mountains provided."

Being that it was 0400 or so, his digital coastal camo made him more of a ghost than he was already. Quite a culture shock from him being the heart of his former platoon. Dealing with el gringos spouting the most ignorant shit towards him while being sensitive towards any other? not so much. The middle eastern heat wasnt so bad. Even the locals didn't seem too different than the Lebanese and Israelis that have their own communities back home.

Christina, his MK17, kept him company amongst a mostly absent fireteam. Being a boxy modular modern rifle, it still managed to have more curves than his skeletal fireteam leader. If anything could make Diego miss home at that moment, it was having to be behind that. There, he could turn on the news and be greeted with the lord's gifts and the reason roosters preen in the morning. Nevertheless, the mission comes before disappointment. Christina was loaded with extra hot Swiss specials and ready to play inquisitor to the SPLA.

Now, he was to await further orders.