Birthday gift for Insidious Harbinger. Not much else to say. Hope you like.
S.S.D.D.
"This is Reaper. Tango is down. I repeat: Tango is down. Guys, you got a good shot at point B."
Codename 'Goblin' squatted to the ground, and pressed to the cover of the tree, looking back the way they had come for the sniper, but he couldn't see him. Into his radio, he said, "Wilco, Reaper. Watch our ass." Turning back to forward, he noticed that the approaching patrol, two men and a dog, had each been taken out without with shots through the chest. Goblin shook his head.
The mission was rescue and extraction. They were a three man squad, consisting of Reaper, Goblin, and Lizard. They were to rescue "Ogre", a captured soldier who was (supposedly) being held in the cabin three hundred meters away.
It was a hot day. The Kevlar and weight of his weapons was starting to bother Goblin, but he didn't bother complaining. On his back was his M-16A4, affectionately dubbed "Madame". The rifle was cast black, with myrtle paint peppered over most of the body to give some semblance of camouflage, and an underslung grenade launcher. Lizard was carrying an M-16A4 as well, though his had a shotgun attachment, and Reaper was of course using his Intervention. However, until they found Ogre, Goblin and Lizard were both carrying their pistols, along with a combat knife in their other hand; arms crossed to keep their gun level.
Reaper eyed them through the scope of his rifle. Wearing camouflage bodysuits and basic body armor, as well as ski-masks, they were nearly impossible to tell apart. Under their armor, Goblin was a bit bulkier and Lizard a bit taller, but Reaper mostly used the weapons on their back, or if he was focused, the one in hand. He focused, examining Goblin's sidearm: a heavily modified .45 USP. Lizard carried a M9. Both were adorned with silencers, though Reaper was aware neither Goblin nor Lizard were particularly fond of the attachment. Of course, there was the loss of range, and a reduction of accuracy. The problem lied in the added weight of the silencer. However slightly, it pulled the muzzle down, which could obscure the shots.
Reaper sighed. His own USP was silenced, though he rarely, if ever, used it nowadays. He was garbed in a large ghillie suit, and more or less buried beneath the thick underbrush of the forest's floor, he was invisible. Well, not quite. There had been a story back in basic about a sniper, dueling with the enemy. The enemy saw the reflection of the scope, fired, and killed the "good guy". Reaper chuckled under his breath. His father had told him that same story, when, as a child, he asked for war stories, only his war was in a little state called Vietnam. Funny how the stories never changed, just the people in them. Same shit, different day.
"I count three Tangos around the house," Reaper said into his radio, before his scope moved back to Goblin and Lizard, who were still together and still approaching. Goblin lifted his fist before dropping to his belly, and Lizard dropped to one knee. Both scanning the area with their respective pistol. Reaper moved his rifle and lined his sights, before popping a single bullet into one of the hostiles, coming down the left side of the house and forward towards his comrades. He exhaled, and moved his sites to the one standing on the roof. This one was wearing a ski-mask with a skull painted on it and a radio. The problem was that if Reaper shot him, the body would tumble down the roof, making an awful racket. Not to mention, "bad guy" number three was coming around the house. If either found out what was happening, they would radio the disturbance, and Ogre would probably be executed with a 9mm to the base of the skull.
"We got a problem," Reaper said. "Goblin, get ready to fetch the one on the roof. Lizard, you got the one coming around the side." Reaper sucked in a breath, then let go, steadying the aim over the enemy on the roof. "I'm shooting after three. Get ready."
The guard on the roof turned and started to pace to the other side, for a moment taking his vision away from his front, which was what Goblin and Lizard were waiting for. In one second, they were up and moving forward in a low dash. Some called it "roadie run" but Reaper had never quite understood why. At the second second, Goblin was under the roof, arms raised, and Lizard was standing just at the corner of the house. At the third second, Goblin put his hands on the roof's side and pulled, starting to climb up, while Lizard prepped to pop out of the corner. Reaper squeezed the trigger. The guard on the roof's body convulsed a moment, tensing as the sharp projectile and the explosion of blood out his back in the form of an exit wound. Goblin rolled onto the roof, then to his feet. Reaper adjusted his aim, moving down to the (now dead but still standing straight) guard's shin, then the left knee cap. He fired. The support of the guard's leg gave way. He fell forward, into Goblin's awaiting arms.
Reaper changed his aim to the corner, only to see that Lizard had handled that target with an easy burst into their chest. "Breaching," came Goblin's voice over the radio. With the body resting gently on the roof, he headed to one of the second story windows. It was open, he slipped inside, and disappeared from Reaper's line of sight.
"This is Goblin," came the voice on the radio. "On the second floor. Ogre should be in the basement. Lizard, you got in through ground level?"
Reaper adjusted the sights and watched Lizard open a side door, then breach. A moment of silence. "Tango down," came Lizard's voice. "I repeat, one Tango down. I'm in the kitchen. Reaper, where do I head?"
Reaper looked away from his rifle and to the blueprints of the house beside him. "South wall. Should be a stairwell. Goblin, you want to take the stairwell in the center of the house, it's a winding one. Watch your blind spots. Should be three more hostiles somewhere around here. Probably guarding Ogre."
"That means a breach," Lizard muttered. "Oh joy."
"Lizard, shut up. I'm coming down the stairwell now," Goblin said.
Reaper really hated being a sniper sometimes. This time, for example, he just felt useless. There was no way to help the squad now, with the outside sentries taken down. Some snipers used the thermal imaging, if he had that now he could probably see the Tangos through the walls. But fancy attachments had never appealed to Reaper. For how easy this mission was going, they were not fighting amateurs. They were fighting trained mercenaries. They had only gotten this far for a few reasons. One, it was always easier to go on the offensive than the defensive. Ogre had been taken three weeks ago. That meant, more than likely, for two and a half weeks the mercenaries had been out here doing nothing. Boredom would kick in after the first week, and even the hardest mother fuckers would be out of it. The second reason was, of course, that Reaper and his squad were better.
"Reaper," Goblin said, and the sniper touched his radio. The voice came out as a low hiss and growl. "We're going to breach. Things are going to get noisy. Watch the roads and trees. Those camps we sidestepped, when things get loud they will come running."
"This isn't my first rodeo," Reaper said bitterly. He stood slowly, skimming the area, then into his radio said, "Moving to a better vantage point."
"Reaper," came Lizard's voice. "Was this intel solid?"
Reaper huffed along, climbing a large hill to have a better sight at the lone road that lead to the cabin. "What do you mean?"
"Just got a tingling on my neck."
Reaper lay down and adjusted his rifle. "Tingling on your neck ain't much of a reason. From the satellite photos, everything is clear. Got my eyes on the road. Just get Ogre out of here."
Over the radio, there was a low grumble. Then in a low whisper, and the word, "Breaching."
For whatever reason, Lizard or Goblin kept their radios active, so Reaper heard what came next. There was the sound of the breach of course, which was the wall exploding into the room, but when there should have been gunshots, there was an odd silence. Reaper adjusted his rifle's scope slowly, looking down the road at nothing. In his radio, he heard, "Bomb," screamed out by Goblin and Lizard both. He looked away from the scope and to the house, a moment before there was an ear shattering boom, and an explosion of orange fire ripping through the windows and door. It started at the lower level, breaking the glass, then the second floor windows. The windows exploded outwards and rained as far as Reaper, who was several meters away. Instinctively, he lifted his arms over his head. The gloved fists protected his exposed scalp and neck from shrapenel. When it finally stop, he stood, looking to the house. "Goblin?" he shouted. "Lizard?!"
He stumbled over to the flames, clawing and running the rest of the way. His ghillie suit dragged too low to the ground and he ended up tripping. After a moment, he drew his knife and cut his way out of the suit, then resumed clawing and approaching the still burning building. The heat was agonizing. A change in the wind sent a hot wave over him. He covered his eyes with his arm and approached, now simply shouting, "Lizard! Goblin!" The only answer came with the low crackle of the burning wood. If the blueprints of the house were accurate, then the basement was simply a deathtrap. On entrance, poured cement walls. A fire bomb would fill the confines and incinerate anything. There must have been other bombs, hidden around the house. That would explain the searing heat. The damage to the whole structure. Any moment, it would all just collapse and crush whatever was left of the two other soldiers.
And over the crackles of the fire and the searing heat, Reaper could hear it. Pick ups. The low rumble of armored attack trucks grinding towards the explosion. Still far off. Reaper could barely hear them screeching and rumbling along, but they were coming closer. And the gigantic fume of black smoke crawling up to the sky was all they needed to know that something was going on. He fell to his knees.
"Goblin," he said lowly into his radio. "Lizard, do you copy."
But he knew they were gone and dead. Burned in a blink of an eye. He laughed actually. The intel had been wrong. Lizard's twitchy neck had been right. He stood, looking to one of the mercenaries he had killed through the scope of his rifle, and took up the modified ACR he was carrying. It would probably do him better than his Intervention for what came next. The roar of the engines was getting louder. Even the clunky pickups had good acceleration when going in a straight line, down an empty road to a lone building. Ogre wasn't here. The intel had probably been spoon fed to his superiors, and this was all just a trap. And now, if he was luckier than his squad mates, he would be able to trek the six or so miles back to the rendezvous with a small army on his ass.
Typical, really.
Same shit, different day.
All things considered, Reaper mused, this had been one lousy birthday.