Chapter 1-Unbound
A/N: Hello everyone! This story as the description states is about Sandman's creation of Team Metal. I won't go any further but just to let you know the setting of the story is in 'Interchange' on Survival Mode (well it starts before Survival but what you gonna do huh?) so enjoy. I plan on finishing this story and if you like, let me know and I'll do others as well.
Have fun doing whatever.
"Unbound"
February 17th 2016 - 09.30.56
Route 169 Highway, New Jersey, USA*
SFC. 'Sandman' Parker
Delta Force
"Overlord, this is Emerald 0-1 reaching the target area, repeat reaching the drop zone. Interrogative; why are we here over?" said CSM Mitchell over the roar of the Sea Knight's rotors. Sandman smiled inwardly to himself. Overlord, or Major General O'Brien to Sandman didn't like the Command Sergeant Major. No one did. He reportedly only got to his position by kissing ass to General Shepherd. Ha! Shepherd was off dealing with the Rangers and his new Task Force so Team Emerald was stuck with this prick. When Sandman first heard about this dude he thought 'Hey, maybe he's alright but just has a bad rep.' BUT NO! God has a habit of pissing on Sandman whenever he can. First with him being denied a promotion due to his 'un-conventional methods' and now this.
"CSM Mitchell this is General Shepherd. You're here to extract vital intelligence concerning the invasion of the remaining states. I have authorised you the use of an over-watch helicopter and a Reaper drone with a full load of AGMs," the radio said calmly. "Yessir," replied Mitchell, a look of badly hidden excitement on his face: He had never been issued air support before. Not even a UAV. "Be advised, the Russians have been releasing the prisoners in the New Jersey State Penitentiary and armed them with shotguns. Keep your distance," Overlord said, cutting Shepherd off. Brave thought Sandman. "Also we have only a vague idea of where it is; when our guys have finished decoding the Decryption Code we'll saend you the coordinates. Good luck. Out." Brilliant. I have to land in the middle of the second most contested city highway filled with trigger happy Russians/Communist Sympathisers to find intel that is in some unknown location but 'nearby' thought Sandman. This always happened.
"Okay. Emerald! Listen up! We ha-" "We heard the radio already! Give over," SGM Scott or 'Wraith' interrupted. Thomas Scott was a moody bitch to say the least. A big Korean man, he took an American name due to his name being very similar to 'Thích Quảng Đức', the monk who burned himself alive in protest. Whilst Sandman said it would be a great honour to be named after a man who was willing to die for a cause, he stated he would often be bullied in the Rangers. He had a longish hair and a short moustache that suited him perfectly. He spoke very good English but there was still a hint of accent, and it often expressed itself more when annoyed, like now. He was very friendly to Sandman but held a personal resentment towards Mitchell: He was in line to be leader of Emerald until he came along; his lips covered in Shepherds ass hairs.
"Watch your tone Duck! I am superior and you will respect my authority!" Mitchell and the rest of the squad knew of his real name because of his official papers, and Mitchell would often poke fun where he shouldn't. "Current status report. Order of rank. Go!" Not this again thought Sandman. Mitchell insisted that at the start and end of every mission we would cite our name, rank, current equipment and position in the field. In that order. Here we go again.
Scott stood up grudgingly. "Thàsch Quong Duk. Sergeant Major. One M16A2; EOTech Holographic; M203 grenade launcher. 11 magazines and six 40mm grenades. One Shoulder-launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon. Two launchers. One M1911.45. Three magazines. Four M67 Fragmentation Grenades. Four Processed Semtex pouches. Three Blocks of C4. If you hadn't already guessed I'm demolitions.
Mitchell sighed. He was a perfectionist and didn't like unorthodox comments like 'If you hadn't already guessed…' but he shrugged it off. "Next!" he boomed. Sandman stood up. "Albert Parker. Sergeant First Class. One HK-146; CompM4 Red Dot Sight; Extended Magazine. 15 Magazines. One M320 Grenade Launcher Module. Nine 40mm grenades. One FN Five-seveN pistol. Two magazines. Two M67 Frag grenades. One 9-bang. One Blast Shield. Specialist." "Good. Next."
The final man in the helicopter stood up. At about 5ft 7, he was distinct among his team due his small size. Gripping a G3 with a unique green and black camouflage and other modifications, including a specially-built HPOA Scope by Heckler and Koch, his face was hidden behind a black balaclava with fake marks imprinted upon it and a pair of Night-Vision goggles (turned off). He spoke with a Mexican accent.
"Luis-Fernando Allende. Private. One G3 battle rifle; HPOA Scope; fore-grip; folding stock. Seven magazines. One Beretta M93; four magazines. One M67 Frag grenade. One smoke grenade. One concussion grenade. One Brutones Industries Scrambler. One Brutones Portable Radar. Two Janjua-Lloyd flares with ignitron. Marksman."
"Good. Alright men let's talk about a game plan. I thin-" Mitchell was cut off by the pilot's update: "Hate to cut you off sir, but we are here." "Shit. Fine let's go," responded Mitchell as he cocked his own FN MAG. As Sandman fastened the rope to his belt, he had only one phrase that would suffice. A phrase that an old friend who he fought alongside nearly three years ago would use: "Let's do this."
A/N: What dost thou think? Please rate and review. I will hopefully update this weekend. Any suggestions/constructive criticism are welcome but no flames. Btw HPOA is mine, Scott, Mitchell and Allende are mine and so are Brutones industries and Janjua-Lloyd industries. Also I don't live nor have I never been to New Jersey (I based the setting in Interchange) and I just picked this highway out of a lot. Feel free to correct me about this if it was a tiny highway and nothing like Interchange.