Yup, well, i wrote this in twenty minutes after a really fun session of BFBC2. So... yup. Have fun.
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It was another sunny day on the coast, with a slight breeze rolling in off the sea to keep it from getting too warm. The autumn trees were just changing, turning the otherwise ordinary woodland town into a spectrum of color, the kind tourists would come from miles around to see.
Of course, I'm no tourist. And I wasn't there to watch the leaves change.
My PKM machine gun rattled slightly in my hands as I walked through the woods, my camouflage blending me into the environment. The sounds of gunshots reverberated in my ears as I ducked behind the sandbags, bullets whizzing past my head. "Lay down some fire, Dan!" Bobby yelled at me, his gilly suit's mask muffling his voice slightly.
"What? Oh, right..." I bumbled, popping over the sandbags and open-firing out onto the battlefield. As soon as I heard a loud cry, I dashed back into cover, an sadistic smile on my face.
"That's one." Bobby said, clutching his VSS as he poked his head above the sandbags. He fired off one shot, and a smile came across his face too. "Headshot." he said haughtily "And that's two."
But, Bobby's triumph was short-lived, as, milliseconds after he had said that, he slumped back into cover, his head hanging down limply.
"Ah... shit..." I grumbled, pulling out my de-fib unit, and laying the paddles down on his chest. A brief flash of light followed, accompanied by a loud ZAP! and a loud breath of air.
"Welcome back, sleepin' beauty!" I yelled over the sound of gunfire, a smirk on my lips "How was yer sleep!"
"Very funny." he said, his chest wound already closing up "I still don't know how that fucking thing closes up bullet wounds."
"I dunno..." I said nonchalantly "Some kinda weird shit from the labs. Now, if ya don't mind, I'm gonna go show that goddamn sniper how we do things back home.
That said, I took off running, sprinting behind enemy lines with a determined scowl on my face. I mowed down an engineer on a ladder with my PKM, and ducked back into the bushes beside the small house.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Bobby said over the headset, his voice sounding completely pissed off. I just let out a small laugh.
"Revenge, buddy." I said smoothly, landing two bullets in the head of a russian medic "I'm gonna show that damn russian sniper why you never try to snipe out sergeant Daniel Anderson!"
"Well, hurry up!" Bobby said anxiously "Blake and I can't hold 'em off for long!"
"Got it. Over and out." With that, I powered off my headset.
Thirty seconds later, I dashed out of the village, my chest heaving mightily as I dived into a bush for cover. That was perfect, I had figured, as I carefully reloaded my PKM. I had gotten behind enemy lines, with only about six russians dead behind me. I don't know what you consider stealthy, but, for me, that was a personal record.
Catching my breath, I left my cover, walking carefully off into the forest as the road got further and further behind me. As I walked, I shrugged the weight of the PKM over my shoulder and pulled out my M9, favoring it's convenient size in the more dense brush of the woods. After all, I figured, I probably wouldn't be shooting much anyway.
"Okay, Dan." Bobby's voice crackled over the headset "We've got a view of the sniper about fifteen yards from your position. He's got his back turned to you..."
"Got it." I whispered, my breathe going shallow. I could see him already, the course fabric of his gilly suit appearing obviously against the brown color of the sandbags. His eye was in the scope of a Type-88, and his back was completely exposed to me.
I smiled giddily, pulling my knife out of it's sheath as I approached the sniper carefully. My feet glided effortlessly over the twigs and rocks, completely avoiding them as if on their own accord. I could do this in my sleep, I thought, ten years of training didn't go to waste, at least.
And, just like that, I was right behind him, leaving him completely oblivious to my presence. I held my knife tightly with my sweaty hand, and, ever-so-carefully, placed it inches from the spinal cord at the back of his neck. I leaned foreword slightly, and, my voice soft, I whispered...
"Karma's a bitch, huh?"
Just like that, before he could spin around, the tip of my knife protruded from the front of his throat, leaving him gurgling around like a fish out of water.
"I AM KARMA INCARNATE!" I Yelled, placing the sole of my boot on the face of my victim "NO SNIPER CAN BEAT ME!"
"Don't get too cocky, Anderson." Bobby said over the microphone. I could actually see him from my position, him and Blake shooting violently over the top of the sandbag cover. "Get the hell back here and do your job!"
"Yeah, alright, okay..." I said begrudgingly, a hyper smile spread across my face, nonetheless. Before I jumped over the sandbags, and back into the battle, a thought occurred to me, and I looked back at the corpse behind me who's face had already drained of color. "I've got an idea, Bobby..." I said dreamily, the idea working around my mind "I'll just be a moment."
And even Bobby's screams of protest were drowned out by the fantastic idea in my mind.
Two hours later, two russian patrolmen walked through the remains of the battlefield, smug expressions on their faces. They had held back the Americans successfully, they knew, and for that, they were a greater army and country.
Suddenly, a dead glint of sunlight caught one of their eyes, and he stepped back, trying to get a better look. Was that a... no, it couldn't be... was that...?
"Дерьмо!"* one of them cursed, throwing himself down on the ground as a russian armored truck flew over the main road, the horn honking wildly. The still-spinning tires just barely missed the first patrolman, but his partner wasn't so lucky. He got the entirety of the cars front bumper slammed into his face, which made the driver laugh manically.
"GREAT IDEA!" Bobby called out to me, firing his new-found uzi out the window "THIS IS THE BEST ATTACK EVER!"
"I know..." I said with a sadistic smile, as I pushed the button of the C4 unit I had found on the sniper.
Meanwhile, two miles behind them, in a russian base full of confused soldiers, a truck was missing, along with one sniper, a pair of keys, and the five dozen C4 units he was carrying.
"Я нашел они!"** one of them called, but it was already too late, as all fifty of their black-hawk helicopters fell out of the sky, spinning and burning uncontrollably. All thanks to a few maniacs and a few dozen C4s.
*- SHIT!
**-I FOUND THEM!
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There we go. Easy to write, pointless to read :P. Well, review if you want. Bye.