Author's note: Well the previous piece was pretty well-liked so I figured I would continue with another. Hopefully everyone enjoys it. Obviously I don't own any of the characters of Flashpoint. This particular piece takes place shortly after Raf has joined the team.
The helicopter roared over the top of the forest's canopy. Looking out Sam could see all the soldier pines, red pines, hickories, and maple trees reaching up to the sky as if the branches were trying to pull the helicopter down. He sat on the right side of the rotary wing aircraft, leaning out over the ocean of green and looking for the subject. Occasionally he would glance through the optic upon his Diemaco C8 Carbine. The Trijicon TA31 Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight allowed for a 4x magnification enabling Sam to see greater detail when open patches in the thick boughs above the forest floor appeared.
"You see anything?" Officer Rafik Rousseau asked from the opposite side of the helicopter. He was armed similarly to Sam and would look through his own ACOG from time to time.
"No. Nothing," Sam responded simply. The two had to shout in order to communicate over the loud sound of the rotor wash. "We need to find this guy." Sam was angry; he wanted to locate the man who had been responsible for what had happened. He couldn't believe they'd let him get away earlier and Sam damn sure wasn't going to let him escape in this forest.
"We're in pursuit on foot," Ed Lane chimed in over the radio. He swiftly made his way over the foliage and rocks obstructing his path, followed closely by Spike Scarlatti. They were sprinting fast, hot on the heels of their subject who had somehow eluded them. "What do you have on the mike, Spike?"
Spike slowed his pace for a moment and raised his parabolic microphone once again. He listened intently into the headphones as he scanned the area to their direct front. He could hear the sounds of wildlife mingling with noise from a nearby stream. Then he heard, the unmistakable sound of footsteps hastening over fallen leaves. He could hear the huffing and puffing emanating from the subject's tired lungs. "We're on him. He's up ahead."
"Got it," Ed acknowledged. The duo took off again, still heading north in hot pursuit behind their subject—a man that had shot a cop. "Sam, subject is moving north approximately eighty to one hundred meters to our direct front. Have the bird put you on the deck ahead of him, cut him off."
"Copy that," Sam responded through his throat microphone. He glanced over at Raf and made a hand signal indicating it was time for them to rappel down into the forest itself. Raf nodded and started to ready his harness. The helicopter surged over more treetops until it found a suitable insertion point. It was a wide clearing well ahead of the path the subject was using. Sam readied himself, dangling his armor-clad body over the helicopter's skid. "You ready?" he asked Raf.
Raf nodded, the excitement and anticipation was palpable to him. He could feel the cool breeze that flowed in beneath the downdraft created by the rotors. It mingled there with the hot air resonating from the helicopters powerful engine. It felt good against his sweat-stained skin. He leaned back readying himself for the descent, his first live rappel from a helicopter.
Sam was an old hand when it came to insertion methods like this. He'd learn the techniques in the Army and perfected them as a member of Canada's elite Tier One Special Operations unit—Joint Task Force 2. "Ed, we're going in."
Ed was still running, his Remington 700 SPS clutched tightly in gloved hands. His helmet bobbed over his eyes for a moment, forcing him to adjust how it sat, but it did not hinder his progress. He heard Sam inform him that he and Raf were about to insert ahead of the subject. With any luck they would be able to cut him off and prevent his escape. But there was a serious concern that lingered in Ed's mind. "Good to go, Sam. Are you with me on this?" he asked, insinuating something to the younger officer.
Sam heard the question, but wasn't sure if he was willing to answer. He paused for a moment in thought. His eyes were on Raf who still hung on the opposite side of the helicopter's fuselage, ready to rappel into the forest below. "I'm with you," Sam finally said with reluctance.
"Good," Ed responded between gusts of air. But he wasn't sure if he could believe it. Sam was certainly the professional, but his mood was high on this one and no doubt his blood was boiling after what the subject had done. The last thing Ed or any of them needed was for Sam to be a little fast on the trigger if he found the subject. But Ed had to trust his officer, even if his recent faith had been shaken by another—someone much closer to Ed.
"Let's go," Sam commanded with a nod. He leapt backward, letting gravity carry him down toward the ground which rushed up at him. The speed was only arrested by Sam's control on the rope and the gear that accompanied his harness.
Raf was off the skid a moment after and before he knew it he was on the ground just feet away from Sam. He unhooked himself from his harness, noticing Sam do the same. They moved fast, trading duties as they went. Security was important, they had an active shooter out there—a man that had already killed a cop and they needed to protect themselves against the threat. While Sam packed up his harness Raf held security, scanning into the deep, shady forest to their south. They knew the subject would be coming from that direction, but they weren't sure exactly where he'd be.
Sam finished up and took up his carbine, allowing Raf to pack his own gear away. "Hurry up. We need to move," Sam ordered impatiently.
Raf packed away his gear with great haste, anxious to please and fearful of showing himself as incompetent. Once his harness was packed he threw his backpack on and adjusted the chin strap on his helmet. "Ready," he said, signaling Sam with a thumbs up.
Sam picked himself up from the kneeling position and advanced south hoping to find the shooter soon. He hoped to be the first one to lay eyes on the man. He yearned to do something about what the subject had done, to pay him back for the life he had taken. His eyes searched the tree line south of them keenly. His weapon was up and held tightly in his shoulder and he moved only as fast as he had to. He wanted to be able to effectively engage the subject if he spotted him.
Raf was close behind, taking note of Sam's intensity and the way he carried himself. He could see the man was back in the skin of a soldier, feeling utterly at home amidst the shade provided by the ample boughs overhead. He pitied the men that must have faced this warrior in Afghanistan and felt an inkling of concern for the subject now.
"Okay, Spike, where is this guy?" Ed questioned as the trio of them still advanced. They had not laid eyes on the subject and there was a real fear that he might have escaped them again. Ed's eyes were peering through the Mark 4 MR/T Leupold scope mounted on his rifle. Despite the intense magnification it provided he still couldn't see the subject. He had to catch him before he escaped. He had to find him before Sam did.
"I'm not hearing anything," Spike explained, holding up the parabolic microphone once again. The team had stopped to allow for more accurate hearing from the microphone. Only the sound of birds chirping and the gentle breeze flowing through the branches above could be heard.
Before another word could be uttered the all too familiar snap and crack of bullets impacting nearby eviscerated the momentary calm. dove for cover behind nearby trees while Ed continued to scan the area even as more rounds slapped the rock he was using to prop his rifle up. "No joy, I can't see him," Ed announced. "Sam, we're taking fire. Subject is somewhere to our north."
More rounds smashed into the rocks and brush around them. The subject was well-equipped with a high power semi-automatic rifle. The stolen weapon was a restricted firearm—a Windham Weaponry SRC-CAN carbine. The weapon was very similar to the Diemaco C8 Carbine used by the SRU and fired the same 5.56mm round. The round itself was used by the Canadian military and all NATO members. It was a high velocity projectile that would yaw and tumble upon impact causing dramatic wounds. Because of its penetration capabilities it made Team One's body armor practically useless.
Spike's ears rang as she squirmed his way behind a sizable tree trunk. He leaned out from behind the shelter it provided and scanned the area, his eyes fixed behind the open sights of his MPA3 submachine gun—feeling woefully underequipped. It was difficult to see with any real detail and he wished he had something more suitable for the terrain. An ACOG or a scope would help significantly. Another burst of gunfire crashed into the tree trunk next to him, causing him to reel back behind cover, frustrated with his inability to find the shooter.
Sam and Raf maneuvered their way down a rocky outcropping that sloped down toward a meandering creek. They could hear the gunfire and knew the subject was firing on the team. The immediate importance of finding him was not lost on either of them and they redoubled their strength and effort, increasing the speed at which they moved.
As they advanced the shots sounded more pronounced—they were getting closer and anxious excitement welled up inside Sam's body. He could feel the adrenaline take over and any sense of fatigue or muscle ache evaporated with it. But he was a skilled veteran, well-attuned to the effects of the adrenaline. He picked his way through some brush and rocks carefully, knowing full well the subject was not far ahead. Another report from his rifle fire was indicative of that.
Raf on the other hand felt more nervous than anything. He wanted to get up there and do what he had to do to support Team One, but this situation was insane. He felt like he was in a war. The subject had a high powered rifle and was shooting at the rest of his team. This wasn't a hot call, this was a firefight. He was torn from his thoughts as he came up on Sam who was hunched over a rock, aiming into his gun sight. Raf knelt down beside him.
"I've got him," Sam reported quietly. "I've got the solution." He trained the reticule of his ACOG on the head the subject who was still firing wildly in the direction of his team. He was oblivious to Sam and Raf's presence. The subject was hunkered down behind some rocks and nearby brambles. He would peak out, fire at the rest of Team One, then get behind cover before they could spot him.
Sam flicked his rifle off safe and rested his finger on the trigger. "Ed, permission to fire."
