Woohoo, time to get back to some actual plot and stuff!
YES, I KNOW I HAVE CHANGED MY NAME. Thing is, the old one is a relic of my new-to-the-internet-3rd-grader-who-thought-1337sp33k-was-cool. I needed a newer feel, y'know?
I'm gonna try to focus this chap more on the Russian side of things. They deserve a bit more attention, plus, Iron Lady (level after Bag and Drag) is a short mission anyway.
WARNING: Giant chapter ahead. Read at your own risk.
Iron Lady
October 9, 2016
PFC Jenna "Hook" Moore
1st SFOD-Delta
Paris, France
"There's our ride! Get Volk! Let's go!"
"Ah, thank fuck."
"Move! Move!"
Frost heard Volk bark something in Russian as Grinch held him down.
"Убери от меня свои руки, ублюдок!" he shouted. "Get your hands off me, asshole!"
Frost crouched down next to the man and spoke as quietly as he could over the approaching V-22 Osprey.
"Соси Хуи," he whispered. "Suck a cock."
Jenna squinted, holding up a hand to block the dust being kicked up by the tiltrotor aircraft straight into her face.
Right when she started towards it, though, she saw a familiar white streak of smoke.
The RPG made its way into the one of the engines, detonating and sending the Osprey spinning to the ground. It smashed multiple cars out of the way, its blades violently chopping at the pavement and the people in the way.
"JESUS!" Jenna screamed, dashing away from the giant hunk of metal behind her.
She ducked to avoid being decapitated by the rotors, flopped onto her ass, and desperately scooted back while the rotors just barely span in front of her.
"Nope nope nope nope NOPE!"
A car rolled over towards her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable crunch of her body beneath the vehicle.
But when she opened her eyes again, she was pinned by the car against a concrete barrier. As far as she could tell, nothing was broken, but she couldn't move for shit.
"Hook! You all right?" Frost coughed.
"This sucks ass."
She looked so helpless, desperately trying to pry herself from the car, but it was no use. She would be stuck there unless someone pulled her out.
"That looks uncomfortable," Truck remarked. "Frost, cover me."
Meanwhile, Sandman was busy notifying Overlord that they would have to move to the alternate LZ, obviously frustrated by the situation.
Truck got behind Jenna and wrapped his arms around her, beneath her own arms.
"Your heart is really fast…I hope it's because you have a fucking car pressing you against a wall."
He bent his knees and placed his feet on the ground, straightening his legs. At the same time, he used his upper body's strength to slide his comrade out from between the car and the barrier.
She slowly slid out, but refused to budge once she was almost out. One last tug, and she flew out and fell onto Truck.
Frost watched the entire time, feeling a bit jealous Truck got to put his hands on her like that.
"What the actual hell!?" he asked himself.
"Thanks for the assist, man," Jenna sighed, brushing herself off and helping Truck up. "Damn, the crap in your vest pouches is really pointy…"
"It's better than being stuck, now isn't it?"
The other three soldiers glared at them as they made their exchange.
"You guys done dicking around? Get moving!" Sandman snapped.
As she passed, Jenna checked through the windows into the VTOL's cockpit for survivors. The crew seemed to be dead. She checked the limp body of the pilot slumped over the dashboard, pushing the corpse back into the seat.
His face wasn't visible, concealed by the helmet's visor combined with a face shield.
"Hook, status on the crew? Survivors?"
"Negative… all KIA."
As they all disappeared from sight, the pilot slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the shrinking figures. He weakly reached out, croaking out a "help."
There was no hope, for they were already gone.
Meanwhile, thousands of feet above their heads, a flying giant capable of smiting anything it deemed worthy below circled menacingly. It was merely an AC-130. "Merely" was an understatement, though.
"Descending, crew. Targeting system online. TV, verify you see our friendlies," the pilot drawled.
His eyes shifted to the photo he propped up on the instrument panel, one of the wife he lost back home in the invasion. He was a relatively new pilot, as was the rest of the crew. But they all had extensive experience of the art, mastering their job quickly because of the war.
"Roger that. Friendlies are marked with white diamonds," the TV operator confirmed.
The pilot remembered the rules of engagement and decided to relay them to the crew again.
"Just to, uh, confirm crew, we are not clear to fire on the buildings. We suspect there are civilians still inside at this point."
The Fire Control Officer heard this and sighed.
No shit, man.
"Do not engage the buildings," she repeated.
"Metal 0-1, established in orbit over AO Hammer. Request mark, over," the pilot continued.
Sandman's response came instantly, the urgency in his voice a sharp contrast to the relaxed tone the crewmembers aboard spoke in.
"Red smoke on the LZ! Need you to service targets north of that location! Everything else besides danger close is clear to shoot."
"Copy that, Metal 0-1. We gotcha."
The gunner laughed.
"Come on, let's give 'em hell, guys!"
"Here we go!"
"I wanna go home."
"Shut up!"
Eye of the Storm
October 10, 2016
Cpl. Natalia Petrova
45th Guards Detached Spetsnaz Brigade, VDV
Prague, Czech Republic
Peter and Natalia stood around, surrounded by a bunch of Czechs whose language they could not understand. The only Russian-speaker besides them was the old guy wearing an ushanka hat nearby.
"Are we the only Russians here? Because this guy is too much of a weirdo for me to consider him a real Russian," Natalia whispered.
His name was Kamarov, and apparently Koslov used to work under him. He had a special smell, one that didn't smell like anything else in the world. No one could put their finger on what it was.
The random people everywhere were the Czech Resistance, banded together once again. Last time it was the Germans, this time it was the Russians. Because of this, they had issues trusting the Russians trying to help them, which was understandable.
Natalia heard a transmission coming over the radio and listened intently so she could relay it to the rest. She was still the most fluent English-speaker, even better than Kamarov. On the other hand, she didn't know a single word in Czech, unlike the veteran.
"Hold on, guys… looks like one of Price's contacts from the US has captured one of Makarov's associates. Makarov's meeting with his advisors… six hours from now, Hotel Lustig."
"That's the center of the city," Kamarov observed.
"The Americans are trying to get him, too."
"Typical," Peter scoffed.
Kamarov then translated this to the Resistance people.
"Why the hell should we even care about this Makarov guy!?" one complained.
"Yeah! We're here so these fucking vodka-drunk Russians can leave already!"
"There's two of them here," one of the leaders growled. "The bitch and her buddy over here."
"Oh, about that," Kamarov chuckled. "They're here from the Ultranationalist military to help us out, they will assist us."
Peter realized Kamarov just blew their cover when the people around began to give the two dirty looks.
"I thought they were Loyalists!?"
"What the hell, man!?" Peter whined, frowning at Kamarov.
The Russian-speaking Czech took this to mean there were moles in their midst.
He strode over to Natalia, took her by the shoulder, and slammed her against the wall.
"You try one funny thing, and you'll regret showing your pretty little face around here."
The other Resistance members followed suit, yelling and circling around her.
I can't take this anymore! Peter thought, clenching his fist. We're on the same damn side, can't you realize that?
"Stay the fuck away from her!" he snapped, stepping in and shoving the man away. "I… I won't let any of you push her around like that! Or I'll make damn sure you get to join your dead buddies!"
Natalia stared at Peter, who she previously knew as the guy who would push her around himself. He'd really changed since then.
Out of the corner of her eye, three people came out of the water, and Natalia almost pointed her MP-443 at them before realizing those were the 141 guys.
"What took you so long?" Kamarov asked, pulling Yuri out of the water.
"Your intel was off, Kamarov. You said this area would be clear," Soap grumbled.
"I'm sure it was nothing you couldn't handle. Do you know what had to be done to get you this far?"
Yuri already heard Peter screaming at the Resistance when he entered the tunnel and saw the crowd gathering around Natalia.
"Don't scream so loud next time, kid," he muttered. "I could hear you from out there."
"Enough chit-chat," Price interrupted. "Soap, Yuri, best get on your way. Meet you at the rally point."
Yuri and Soap both nodded and jogged away, leaving trails of dripping water behind as they moved along. Price took Kamarov aside to privately chat with him about something. The Resistance members everywhere were pretty much just hanging around and doing nothing of use.
Peter checked his watch, tapped Natalia on the shoulder, and shoved his own weapon into the hidden holster under his jacket.
"Time to go. You have the radio thing in?"
"Yeah. We're good."
Natalia brushed aside a few strands of her platinum blonde hair, revealing a well-hidden earpiece.
They hurried through the crowd, bumping aside a few Resistance fighters to get past. They headed up a few different flights of stairs before finding themselves out on the empty streets. Rain poured down relentlessly as the two struggled to see into the eerie night.
Explosions continued to shake the ground as Team Metal made its way down the streets. The AC-130 continued its relentless pounding on the infantry, armor, and aircraft swarming the roundabout.
"God damn, it's a death orgy out there!" Grinch laughed.
Volk flinched at the impact of every 40mm round, completely shutting down whenever a 105mm smashed something.
"What's the matter, you little bitch? Not used to being on the wrong end of the kickass?" Jenna taunted.
Once the entire group was in cover, Sandman keyed his radio.
"Warhammer, targets destroyed. Thanks for the assist."
"Solid copy, Metal 0-1," the pilot responded, rubbing his nose. "Overlord, Metal 0-1 is clear. Greenlight bomb run on target area west to east, I say again, west to east."
"Copy. West to east. Odin 6, you are cleared for bomb run TRP 5, 0, 0, 1."
Jenna looked to the sky in anticipation for the arrival of the A-10s.
"Brrt," she whispered.
BBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT! the A-10s' guns rattled before their bombs blew apart everything in the vicinity, soldiers below either cheering or dying depending on their side.
"Music to anyone's ears." Sandman grinned upon the sound. "Come on, fireworks are over, on your feet!"
Soon after getting up, even more enemies entered the streets, slowing the Delta team's advance to a halt.
"You gotta be kidding me."
Shell casings clinked on the pavement as the soldiers returned small-arms fire, unable to do a thing about the heavier equipment headed their way. Jenna switched the fire selector with her thumb, pressed her cheek against her SCAR-L's stock, and held down the trigger to sustain full-auto fire. The weapon recoiled into her shoulder while she tried to empty the mag on a small cluster of hostiles.
"I'm out!" she announced, ducking back into cover and tossing the dry mag aside.
"Someone get some smoke out there!" Truck yelled. "Hook!"
Damn, I'm not the best throw, she thought, glancing around to see Frost looking in her direction.
Frost nodded, pantomiming pulling the pin and holding up his hand.
Jenna slipped the smoke grenade from her vest, primed it, and let the spoon fly. The metal piece clattered to the concrete and slid away while she tossed the grenade itself over to Frost. In one fluid motion, Frost caught it, swung his arm, and chucked it out into the open while its purple gas spilled out.
"We've got smoke on the targets! You're cleared hot, Warhammer!" Sandman reported upon confirmation of the smoke.
A rain of explosive projectiles streamed from the sky and decimated the pathway ahead, paving the way for them to move yet again. Each strike felt like divine intervention, as if a god was destroying everything in the path of a few warriors he favored. Maybe that wasn't too far from the truth.
"It's gonna be a long day," Frost muttered.
"All right! They're falling back! Move up, move up!"
Truck provided suppressing fire as each soldier popped out from cover and continued movement down the street, stray rounds occasionally impacting a bit too close. Once his drum was empty, Truck got up to move. Grinch took note, stopping and resting his rifle on a car's hood to pick off hostiles aiming his direction.
Frost and Jenna were ahead of the others, getting behind the wreckage of what used to be a BTR. Sandman was a bit farther back, finding his cover in an overturned pickup. Grinch hung back to effectively use his MK14 and keep Volk out of the firefight.
"Good work, Warhammer, we're oscar mike!" Sandman reported, waving at Grinch and Truck to move up.
"Metal 0-1, we're engaging targets ahead of you. Hold your position," the pilot ordered.
Jenna readied her weapon to cover Frost so he could move up, but right as he got up Sandman started barking something at them.
"Stay down!"
"What the hell?" Jenna muttered to Frost as he immediately got back behind the BTR.
"How about you take a look? Dipshit…"
Two choppers hovered into the airspace before taking multiple 40mm rounds through their fuselages. One of the rounds pierced a cockpit, most likely tearing the poor pilot to shreds.
"What do we got ahead of us?" Sandman asked.
Frost peeked around the corner and immediately withdrew his head.
"Birds are down, but I'm seeing nothing but armor at twelve o'clock!"
The enemy vehicles were promptly neutralized, freeing the team to once again continue their push.
"Frost, take point! Take the road on the left!" Sandman yelled.
Truck finished feeding the belt into his LMG, slamming the cover down onto it and taking aim.
"Grinch, get your ass up here! And take the bitch with you!"
Grinch lowered his rifle and took Volk by the back of his shirt, forcing him forward and moving up.
"All right, I'm oscar mike!" Frost announced, breaking from cover and dashing out.
He unconsciously reached back, took Jenna's wrist, and brought her with him.
Shortly after, a smoke trail shot from a building ahead, proceeded by another. Soon enough, a drizzle of RPGs flew at them.
The first one detonated not too far in front of Frost, the shockwave knocking him backwards. He flew into Jenna, bringing her down at the same time. Before she could get crushed by the weight of his equipment, she rolled aside before he made contact, recovering and yanking him behind another destroyed BTR.
"WE GOT RPGS!" she yelled, ears ringing from the explosion.
"Whoa!" the AC-130s TV operator remarked, watching the helmet camera's feed.
Sandman followed up with "Warhammer! We got RPG fire from the building in front of us! Need you to hit it, NOW!"
The Fire Control Officer confirmed it.
"Copy that, we got smoke trails from RPG fire to the northwest," she said. "Great, gotta ask for permission to engage and shit."
"Too right," the pilot replied. "Overlord, we're seeing small-arms, RPG fire from the corner building from the northwest. Request permission to engage."
"Come on, let's wipe these bastards off the map already, our boys are taking it up the ass down there!" the TV Operator growled.
Overlord cleared them to engage a short while later, the pilot ordering to fire.
"Switch to the 105. We need to hit it with something big."
"Yeah, like your mom's ass!"
"Shut up and hit that building!"
Back on the ground, Jenna had Frost propped up against the BTR as she checked for injuries.
"Sergeant, are you all right?" she asked worriedly. "Tell me you're okay…"
"All good, no sweat," Frost deadpanned. "Been through worse."
He stood up and waited to feel any strange sensations. Nope, nothing besides the soreness from the shockwave combined with hitting the ground.
The source of the RPG fire blew up, said corner of the building collapsing into rubble.
"…"
"Hook? Ah, fine… eat shit, bitch."
Jenna snapped out of her slight trance, confused as to why she had just spaced out. She still felt out of it for some reason…
"C'mon, let's go!" Sandman snapped, sprinting past and tapping her on the shoulder.
While they made their way to the embassy, a MiG attempted to attack the AC-130.
"Hot damn!" the TV Operator exclaimed, his screen fuzzing over.
"MiG inbound! Ten o'clock!"
"Flares, flares!" the FCO panicked, the TV Operator quickly releasing the countermeasures. "Cheese and crackers…"
The TV Operator slowly stroked his screen as it cleared up.
"You done throwing a tantrum now? Ready to act like a reasonable machine?" he whispered, barely noticing the shift in gravity as the aircraft banked right.
"This happens more than you might think," the pilot muttered.
"Are you talking to the black box?" the FCO questioned.
"…"
Sandman nearly got ripped apart by machine gun rounds, quickly throwing himself to the ground to avoid getting hit.
"We're taking more fire from the embassy! Give us a hand!"
The gunner prepared the 105mm, knowing that his aircraft would have to pull out for a few minutes.
"Okay. Go ahead and hit 'em."
This one's for DC.
"Building across the courtyard! Gimme a 105 right through it!" Sandman requested.
"Negative, Metal 0-1. We're under heavy enemy fire. Give us five mikes to circle back around," the pilot denied.
Frost rolled his eyes.
"Gotta do it the old-fashioned way, seems like."
"Too right. Truck and Frost, flank that MG so we can get moving. Get ready… go, go, go!"
Sandman, Grinch, and Jenna all took aim and battered the enemy with suppressive fire. Frost jogged up the stairs, peering through his red dot sight until a figure appeared in the center. Two shots and the hostile was down. He stepped to the side to line up a shot on another tango, putting one shot into his center of mass before Truck peppered him with bullets.
The two made their way through the hallways, ending at a balcony with the gunner exposed to their sight.
"All right, tag him," Truck said, tossing Frost an MSR.
"I'm rusty with snipers," Frost muttered.
He was proficient in most weapons, but was most effective with a weapon with a faster rate of fire. With snipers and DMRs he had to cycle the bolt and recover from recoil, respectively.
He knelt, gritting his teeth as he placed the gunner in the center of the crosshairs and pulled the trigger.
"Damn!" he grunted, dropping the rifle immediately after the shot penetrated the Russian's temple. "Shoulder hurts like a bitch!"
"All right, he's down! Let's go, on me!" Sandman yelled.
Frost dropped about eight soldiers in the courtyard with what remained of his M4A1's mag. He dumped the empty mag, swiftly slipping a new one out and locking it into the carbine in one fluid motion.
"He's yours now," Grinch grumbled, shoving Volk towards Jenna and firing his MK14 into the courtyard.
Volk looked condescendingly at Jenna.
"Шлуха вокзальная!" he spat. "Train station whore!'
"Dunno what you just said, but sounds like you're a little bitch!" Jenna snapped, punching him in the nose, taking him by the collar, and pulling him up. "You do what I say or I take your balls."
She pointed to her trench knife and pantomimed a chopping action, indicating her crotch area.
Volk's expression melted into one of fear. The fear of being castrated is universal across all languages.
"Move! Move!" Sandman urged. "Gr-, uh, Hook! Keep Volk behind cover!"
"Got it, boss."
Frost and Truck jumped down from the balcony, turned left, and headed into another corridor with a view over the courtyard. They fired through the windows, periodically calling out targets to cut down to draw the heat away from the other four people.
"We're gonna strongpoint that monument just ahead! Bring up Volk when we're secure!"
Grinch sternly nodded at Jenna.
"You got him?"
"I'm used to babysitting useless people…" she sighed, recalling her experience with Raptor back in Virginia as she nonchalantly slipped a stick of gum into her mouth.
"Good. I'm moving."
"Covering."
Grinch got up, tapped off a few rounds, and began his dash to the monument. Jenna picked up and kept her fire in the area of the courtyard Frost and Truck couldn't cover from their position.
"The convoy will be here any second!" Truck advised.
"Hook, you're clear. Moving, move," Frost said.
"Roger."
Jenna yanked Volk by the back of his neck and sprinted him to the monument, shoving him at the top of the steps. His foot caught on the top step, he tripped, and tumbled over behind Sandman and Grinch.
"Jesus, Hook, is that how you foreplay?" Grinch chuckled.
Frost slid in next to him.
"Hey, bump over. I'm getting on the MG."
"Affirmative."
Frost gripped the handles of the mounted gun, pointing it at two parked cars enemy soldiers were taking cover behind.
"Hook, cover your ears."
He paused to ensure she had followed his command before hammering the heavy rounds into the vehicles. They exploded, taking out the soldiers next to them. However, the rest were retreating at this point.
"Huh?"
"TANK!" Truck declared.
At that moment, the armored beast plunged through the wall in front of them, infantry pouring in.
"Hey, Hook. He's gonna want smoke on that thing," Frost advised, tapping a pouch on his vest. "I got one right here. I'll keep the guys off us, you make sure that thing lands near the armor. Counting on you for this."
Jenna nodded.
"Ready? Three, two, one, go!"
He got back up and relentlessly sprayed at the numerous Ultranationalists closing in. Over his head, in his peripheral vision, a stream of purple smoke trailed from a canister, rolling over next to the tank's track.
"Okay. Got your mark. Danger close."
Unlike Shepherd, these guys care about danger close, Jenna thought.
A handful of 40mm rounds blasted the tank to pieces, obliterating the unfortunate crew and the nearby soldiers. A soldier's arm was tossed overhead, smacking the ground right in front of Volk.
"You act like you haven't caused this kind of slaughter," Frost spoke in Russian, noticing Volk's disgusted grimace.
"Metal 0-1, this is Uniform 6-2. En route to your location," a Humvee driver reported.
"Copy that! We're almost at the intersection! One minute out!"
The TV Operator noticed the massive swarm of enemy infantry, armor, and aircraft approaching.
"All this for just six guys?" he questioned. "Whatever, more fun for us. Enemies crossing in the open."
"Go ahead and take 'em out before Delta gets there. Let's turn these guys into a shooting gallery," the Fire Control Officer affirmed.
"Like shootin' fish in a barrel. With firecrackers and a bug zapper."
"Heh, I think we've got their attention."
"Ivan-senpai has noticed us!"
The crew jested, trying to relieve the tension of the situation as they continuously took out hostile forces. Not one second passed without some kind of weapon being fired or something blowing up.
Warhammer's crew had a habit of having quite unique commentary on missions, making debriefing all the more entertaining. The FCO was actually saving footage of their missions so she could put them up on Youtube once the war was over.
The Humvees zipped down the streets, pursued by numerous aircraft and vehicles. .50 caliber fire came from the American trucks but didn't quite suffice, leaving Warhammer to handle it.
"My arms are gonna be massive by the time this is over," the loader panted. "Who needs 'roids when you got Russians?"
Jenna held on for dear life, the Humvees taking sharp turns at full speed.
"You drive like Dunn," she mumbled, glaring at the back of the driver's seat.
She plucked the gum from her teeth and wedged it between the headrest and the seat in front of her.
Have fun cleaning that up.
Her Humvee violently tumbled over, the occupants being battered against the vehicle's interior. Above, the roof gunner was bludgeoned against the road multiple times, unable to draw back into the vehicle. The vehicle finally came to a rest. The driver punched open the door and rolled out.
Jenna was still in a daze, on the verge of passing out. She looked to her right and saw the guy in the shotgun seat hanging upside down, his corpse suspended by the seatbelt. The crushed remnants of the gunner bunched up in the hatch. The guy next to her was breathing heavily, gazing at her with wide eyes.
"Dude… please, I don't wanna die, man! I'm really damn scared!" he pleaded.
Jenna released her seatbelt, falling down. She kicked open her door, motioning to the soldier to get out.
"You don't understand," he panicked, frantically clicking his seatbelt's button. "It won't work, my knife is somewhere in this wreck."
"Don't worry, I got you, everything will be fine!" Jenna assured, heading back into the Humvee with her trench knife, reaching in, and cutting the strap.
She got back out into the open just as Frost was firing a Javelin at a tank ahead.
The rocket came down onto the top of the turret, hitting it on its weak spot.
Jenna turned around, finding the other guy clawing himself out, painting a stream of red on the ground as he crawled over. She knelt down and rolled him onto his back.
"Found the knife," he weakly muttered, gesturing to the handle sticking out of his torso. "Musta fell on it… hey, dude!"
Frost turned around, nodding at Jenna to start firing at the enemy.
"What do you need?"
"Just put me out of my misery, please."
Frost glanced back at Jenna once again, knowing that she wouldn't let him do such a thing. But there wouldn't be any saving this guy, not with an HVI.
"I can't do that…"
"But wait! Please!"
Frost reluctantly returned his focus to the fight, but not long after hearing a bang and the sickening splatter onto the pavement. A handgun clattered to the ground.
He realized that Jenna was looking in that direction. But her face wasn't one of horror like one would expect. She didn't seem fazed at all, turning back to the enemy and emptying magazine after magazine without blinking. As if seeing a man shoot himself in the head was normal.
Something has to be wrong with her…
The AC-130 paved the way for them to move up, leaving the deceased soldiers behind.
A blazing aircraft rocketed from the sky, hitting the bridge and sending a shockwave through the ground.
"Hey, Frost, I'm taking your smokes," Jenna announced, plucking smoke grenades off Frost's vest wherever she could find them.
As they advanced, she threw them ahead, the AC-130 wrecking everything in their way. She reached for her last one, realizing that she was out.
Choppers hovered in, dumping their ropes out as their occupants slid down. Frost promptly knelt and shot the fast ropers. Their bodies fell all the way down, thumping on the ground.
"0-1, we're bingo on fuel. CAS will be here in thirty seconds. Just hold on," the AC-130 pilot apologized.
"Roger! Thirty seconds, gentlemen!" Sandman announced.
"I don't think we'll last that long!" Grinch responded.
This shit is becoming too much… Jenna thought irritably, burning through her ammo supply.
Her SCAR went empty. She let go of it, letting it hang by the sling as she drew her sidearm, snapping rounds off at the choppers above in a futile effort to slow the enemy.
"They got a ton of armor rollin' in from the tower!"
Grinch sighed, plucking the last magazine from his rig.
"Last mag."
"0-1, Odin 6. Can't tell who's who down there. Need you to mark the targets."
Before Sandman could reply, Jenna keyed her radio and shouted back.
"We're out of smoke, out of ammo, out of fucking everything! We're… Boss, where are we?"
"Dead center on the bridge!"
"You heard him! So bomb the fuck out of everything that isn't us, got that!?"
Her pistol's slide snapped back. Out. Desperately, she took a nearby AK off the ground and used it to cut down even more hostiles.
"How close are they?"
Jenna winced, her gun clicking dry after lighting up a pair of enemies only about fifteen yards out.
"Hold on, I'll let you talk to one of them!" she responded in frustration.
"Fine. Overlord, bomb run is going to level everything in that area. Requesting clearance."
"Odin, you do whatever you have to, to get those men home."
"Metal 0-1. This is Odin 6. Bombs away."
"Come in, Poacher?" a British voice called over the radio.
"Price?"
"Roger. You two know your job. Clear the path for our guys and notify us of anything noteworthy."
"Understood, sir."
Peter opened an umbrella and held it over himself and Natalia as they stepped out into the downpour. As casually as possible, they started down the street, not breaking the silence.
They made it to a corner and peeked around, spotting a small patrol of Ultranationalist soldiers.
"Let's see if we can get past them," Natalia said. "And remember, we need to act like we're together. Please don't make this too hard, Chernenko."
"Yeah, I got it. I honestly agree that this is a bit weird."
He hesitantly outstretched his arm towards Natalia, looking away. She reluctantly crossed hers into his, and they linked arms.
"Let's just get this through with…"
They stepped straight out into the open, immediately attracting the attention of the soldiers. One pointed his rifle at them before another punched him in the arm.
The patrol waited until the couple neared before their leader stopped them and asked a few questions.
"Are you two lost?"
"No, sir," Peter replied.
"Fine. Then what are you doing out here?"
"We're on our way to our apartment."
"Where is it?"
"A bit further down…"
This line of questioning continued, the soldiers still remaining suspicious of them.
"You do know that this city is on lockdown, correct?" the leader grumbled. "We have orders to shoot any non-Ultranationalist personnel on sight."
Natalia clung to Peter's arm, trying to act as nervous as possible. Keeping their cover was absolutely necessary, even if it meant stuff like that.
"Aw… the young lady is trembling. I mean, look at them, you're scaring them, Sarge! Just let 'em off, it shouldn't be a problem!" a Private piped up.
The sergeant stepped back and looked them up and down dubiously before nodding.
"Very well. Make sure you keep your hands visible at all times… don't want anyone shooting because they thought you were armed."
"Thank you, sir."
Next thing, they were speed walking the fastest they could out of there.
"Ugh, I don't think I can put up with that for the rest of the night. Not with you, at least," Natalia complained.
"Whatever," Peter sighed, pausing a second before speaking again. "You know, it's been a while since I've walked with a pretty girl like this."
"Sure."
"No, being honest. Actually, this was before… the… yeah. Me and Sasha back home on our final date before it started."
Natalia shut her mouth immediately. She knew this was a slightly touchy topic for him, Sasha having been KIA in the early invasion. Unlike most of the girls he'd ever been with, he and Sasha had something… different together. He acted less of a douche with that girl around and actually made sure to care for her.
Natalia and Peter both fell silent, the rain continuing to pound the umbrella above and splash on the cobblestone road. Intermittent gunfire rattled through the sky, an occasional dull thump of an explosion would go off here and there.
Koslov finally broke the silence by speaking over the net, obviously unaware of the current tension.
"Uh, come in, Natalia, do you read?"
"Natalia? Since when do you call me by first name?"
"Hey, shut up! A-Anyway, you two need to get off the streets, break… we're taking orders to execute any civilians on sight. They're actively searching, too. Try to meet us at the secondary rendezvous point. Out."
Peter snapped out of his daze, his eyes shifting towards his partner.
"What's going on?"
"We need to get off the streets, they're shooting civvies on sight. Meet up with the guys at the secondary-"
An intense white beam of light flashed from around the corner, down the intersection they were at.
"Oh, shit, what do we do!?"
Natalia pulled the first idea out of her head and decided to roll with it.
"Hug me," she sternly ordered, drawing her handgun.
"Wh-what!?"
"You heard me, dumbass! Follow my lead."
Natalia rolled her eyes as Peter averted his. Then, he pulled her towards him and did as she ordered. Despite the fact that it was her idea, Natalia still found herself off guard.
She stumbled backwards out into the open, right into the sight of two very confused guards.
"What the fuck?"
Natalia emptied her magazine towards them, landing a headshot on the first and peppering the other with about seven rounds.
"All right, run!"
She broke out into a dash, Peter following behind until they could duck into a vacant building. Peter slipped and fell on his ass, rolling off the ground and staggering into the building.
After catching her breath, Natalia decided to comment.
"Let's hope we don't have to do that again."
"What kind of fucking pinpointed idea was that!?" Peter snapped. "We didn't have to go that far!"
"I dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time."
They both stopped their argument, still panting from the run.
Peter's night vision began to kick in, and he started to inspect the interior of the building. It was a shop of some sort. He couldn't put his finger on what he was seeing at first, but when he realized it…
"Natalie."
"Yeah?"
"We're in a sex shop."
"No way," Natalia scoffed, taking a glance at a nearby shelf… and spotting a twelve-inch black dildo. "Staff of Power."
A second passed before she cried out in disgust.
"Oh, God! This place is really nasty! I'm not fucking religious by any means, but hell, I'm going to church when this is through!"
"Pfffft," Peter snickered, picking up a magazine and looking at the cover. He squinted, barely making out the image and the text emblazoned on it.
A brunette with messy, short hair was on the front, her expression one of surprise and attempted intimidation. This instead conveyed itself as an adorable pouty face, though. She was wearing those thin running shorts American SOF guys used, her rear turned towards the camera as to show off, and to prevent the viewer from seeing the other end.
"She's got a nice ass…" Peter remarked.
Her arms crossed her chest on the side facing away from the viewer, presumably due to her size. Her slightly tight shirt clung to her arms, tracing the outline of her surprisingly impressive muscles. An M4A1 with the faint scratching of the words Black Parade dangled from a strap near her exposed, quite nicely formed legs. The title read, Ranger Panties! Medic edition with Pvt. Jenna Moore! The louder you scream… the faster we come.
"Peter, put that thing down!"
"Why, because it's kind of off-beat from what's going on right now?"
"No! Fucking patrol!"
"Huh?"
A lone GAZ-2975 slowly rolled down the street, its roof gunner deliberately keeping his sights trained on each establishment they passed. Natalia jumped over the counter, landing on the other side and knocking the contents of a box of sex toys all over herself and the floor. A strange smell overcame her nostrils as her eyes adjusted, coming to rest on the label on the side of the cardboard container.
-RETURNED ITEMS-
She tried to suppress her gag, squeezing her eyes shut with the offensive objects everywhere. The engine of the vehicle roared closer, the heavy scent of diesel fuel wafting into the store and mingling with the rubbery air. Just barely, over the rumbling, Natalia heard laughter and could make out some drowned-out speech.
"Seth's Fun Corner!? Real kinky, eh, Lana? You'd like to go in?" the door gunner boomed, beaming down into the truck.
"Sh-shut the fuck up, Igor!"
The GAZ continued on its way, and as soon as she was sure it was gone, Natalia shot up from where she was sitting and leaped back from behind the registers.
"Uh, Petrova, you all right?" Peter questioned, seeing her trembling.
"…I'll tell you later. Let's just get moving. Please."
Natalia stepped out of the shop, looking back to make sure the truck had passed. Once she ensured it was clear, she waved Peter over to continue.
Having lost the umbrella during their escape to safety, both soldiers became soaked nearly instantly. Of course, with the rain would come the freezing temperatures.
"Geez, it's c-c-c-cold," Peter remarked, shivering.
"Yeah, like that frozen lake water…" Natalia muttered.
"Can we just pretend th-that never happened? It's over!"
"You know what!?" Natalia snapped, glaring. "I nearly freaking died. Thanks to you? I have a fear of drowning. I can't go anywhere near bodies of water anymore. Hell, I got captured by the Americans and they made me break because I didn't want to get waterboarded!"
"Listen, I'm sorry…"
"Sorry doesn't-! No. You know what? Let's just focus on the goddamn mission. I just want to kill the terrorist bastard, have a smoke, and go home so I can rot in peace."
Peter immediately shut up. He never had much of an idea how much his torment really traumatized her.
They rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a masked soldier wielding an assault rifle. He immediately raised it and prepared to fire.
Faced with a barrel in her face, Natalia lost it.
She grabbed the AK's muzzle, bashing his face with the stock, followed by yanking it out of his hands and turning it to shoot him.
However, something hit her from behind, and next thing she knew, she was face down on the wet sidewalk, pinned to the ground. A knee pressed into her lower back, and some object brushed the back of her head.
"Don't point that gun at her, asshole!" Peter yelled, about to attack.
The soldier Natalia had disarmed earlier recovered his rifle and poked him in the side with it. He winced and raised his arms. Compromised.
"You idiots haven't heard the constant broadcasting, have you!?" the man pinning Natalia down growled. "Very well. The boy will not live."
"Boy!?"
"And don't think you're coming out of this one either, sweetheart. You're damn lucky that I already had my fun with another bitch who didn't get the message," he continued, patting her down and finding her gun, which he proceeded to confiscate. "But now I'm regretting that."
Well… looks like for yet another damn time, I can't do a single thing. Didn't think it would end this way.
He yanked her up and pushed her into the wall, as the other guy shoved Peter next to her. A couple more arrived and lined up, preparing to execute them.
A volley of gunshots rattled, and multiple bodies crumpled on the ground.
Peter opened an eye.
"Hey! Check it out!"
Natalia exhaled in relief. She thought this kind of thing only happened in fiction, but there they were, completely intact.
Multiple figures appeared from an alley across the road, also brandishing weapons. The two Russians immediately surrendered yet again, both having been disarmed. There was no time to take one of the AKs and kill them either.
The silhouettes approached, lowering their weapons. A few knelt and covered both roads, scanning for targets, as another went straight for Peter and Natalia.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" he inquired in English.
A face of pure puzzlement spread over Peter's face. Natalia on the other hand nodded intently.
"Okay. Tell your boyfriend, that you two need to get inside."
"But, sir!"
"Listen, I don't care if you're Resistance or anything like that. Just keep yourselves safe. Got it?"
He turned around to face a guy to his left, revealing the flag patch attached to his shoulder. American. He slapped his friend's helmet.
"McCoy. Think before doing. We almost got compromised when we emptied on those guys. Don't try to stop executions unless you're cleared to engage, buddy," he scolded. "Come on guys, hide the bodies, then we're oscar mike! The rain should wash the blood off the road."
And like that, they all disposed of the corpses and quickly disappeared. They left the two Russian operatives they unknowingly saved behind. If only they knew…
"Poacher, what's your status?" Price called a short time later.
"We just got ourselves out of a little fix there. Got compromised for a second there, but a bunch of Yankees just bailed us out. We're making our way to the rendezvous point."
"Yanks? Must be those Tier One guys he was talking about… From here on out, try to be a little more careful, would you? Out."
Natalia went over to a corpse stuffed into a garbage can, reaching into its holster to take her handgun back. She immediately slammed the lid, holding her gun out to wash it off and furiously wipe it on her leg.
She looked up at the roofs, scanning their tops. A sudden glint caught her eye. Sergei had them covered with his sniper, and Alex presumably was with him too.
They arrived at the door of a specific building, looking at the subtle icon etched into the corner of the door. It wouldn't have been visible unless one specifically looked for it.
It was a winged dagger much like the one from the SAS insignia. A skull rested on top of it, a circle encompassing the entire emblem.
"One-four-one," Peter confirmed.
Natalia tried to contact Koslov to notify their arrival, immediately realizing that they had taken her radio too. She sighed and knocked on the door, stepping to the side and pulling Peter with her.
A blast of multiple pellets flew through, followed up by a foot kicking it down. A few seconds passed before the person inside peeked out.
"Oh, it's you two!" Alex sheepishly said. "Sorry for almost blowing your heads off."
"Next time… try answering first," Natalia grumbled, stepping inside.
Koslov suddenly rushed to greet them.
"Are you two all right? We saw everything!"
"Sir, we're both in one piece."
"Chernenko, by the way, we also saw you getting comfy with Petrova back there. I don't want any of that on my watch, got that?"
"No, it's not his fault, you don't understand," Natalia stepped in before Peter could explain. "It was my idea. I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do."
Koslov nodded and turned away, feeling slightly disappointed for some reason. Why did he feel disappointed?
"Feet wet?"
"Absolutely freezing, sir."
He nodded to Alex, who put down his backpack and took a blanket out.
"Kaminski's got the only one. Chernenko, it's yours."
Natalia sighed. She couldn't feel her fingers at all. It kind of sucked not being a whiny wimp like Peter, not visibly shaking.
"K-Koslov, sir, I'm not feeling so well either… if it's fine, uh… could I get close to one of you guys for heat or something?"
Sergei shook his head.
"Petrova, I will," Alex volunteered.
"Shut up Kaminski, you're looking kind of red there. Don't want to catch a fever if you've caught something."
Koslov seemed kind of clueless. Usually, most men would totally jump on the opportunity to cuddle with the cute girl on their team if given the chance, whether there was any connection or not.
"Doesn't look like anyone's willing," he shrugged, making the situation much more awkward. "Anyway, we need to get to the roof. We will meet up with our chopper there."
Alex started up the stairs, followed by Sergei, then Peter. Natalia sighed, starting to walk up behind Koslov.
They got to the top of the building after quite a few flights of stairs. They had to take some breaks on the way up.
"Damn, how many floors are there on this thing?" Peter complained.
A dull thumping in the distance grew louder as their ride hovered into position.
"Come on, get on! Before the Resistance kicks off the fireworks!" Volkov urged.
"Thirty seconds," Pavelovna notified her copilot.
"Roger. Hey, Dmitri, get them on, we dust off in thirty seconds!" Fedorova repeated.
"They're on, get us off the ground!"
"On it! Irina, prep those flares. I feel like some of the Resistance guys didn't get the memo."
"Flares ready, weapons hot in case anything goes south. Now, on your right you will see our buddies, and a bit beyond that you'll see a bunch of doomed fuckers!" Fedorova announced.
All eyes save the pilot's looked in that direction intently to witness what was about to go down.
The copilot glanced at her watch, counting down.
"Three… two… one… Happy New Year's or some shit."
A couple of the men stood up, spraying their assault rifles in the air. The Russians on the ground looked up before a Resistance guy with an RPG launched a rocket. It took out a chopper carrying its cargo load, a BTR. The aircraft lost control, swinging the armored vehicle around before dropping it and crashing into the ground.
A swarm of fighters swarmed out into the courtyard, charging the Ultranationalists there.
"Doesn't look like we're taking any fire at all," Volkov said. "Good."
Koslov's voice joined the net to explain the group's next orders.
"We're stopping at a Resistance stronghold to help buy some time for the 141 guys to move through. We'll then we relocate to our own position so we can move in and try to take out Makarov if they miss the window. Either way, Archangel will still provide our evac."
The group nodded to confirm that they understood.
"Hold on! How will we prevent them from firing at you guys wearing the uniforms?" Natalia questioned, putting on a chest rig provided by the crew chief and racking the bolt on an AKS-74U kept in the chopper.
"Hopefully they got the heads-up. And if not, well, we'll send you two in first."
Volkov kicked the fast rope out of the door as the helicopter got into position.
"Go! Go! Go!"
Natalia fished her gloves out of her pocket and covered her hands before sliding down. She crouched at the bottom, aiming towards a group of Ultranationalists on a building ahead. However, because the chopper had Russian insignia, they must have thought that Poacher Group was just moving in to clear the Resistance-held building.
One of those soldiers tuned his radio to try and get into their frequency, not knowing that they weren't using a Russian one.
"Damn!" he snapped. "They're trying to assault that compound, but they'll get wiped out immediately! Should we hit them harder?"
"No way," his squad leader denied. "They're heading into that mess on their own. How about we conserve our ammo?"
Once everyone was confirmed boots on ground, the rest of the rope fell, coiling as it landed on the roof.
"Inside this door, they're expecting us!" Koslov ordered, indicating the roof access.
Natalia kicked it open. From around the corner, down the stairs, came the voice of the person assigned to defend it.
"Planet! Planet, or we will detonate the explosives!"
Her eyes jumped to the ceiling, which was plastered with C4. She whipped around and looked at Koslov desperately.
"Countersign is 'Crimea!'"
"Crimea!"
"You're good, hurry up!"
Natalia nodded and started down, followed by Peter, then the rest.
The first sight they saw upon rounding the corner and looking down was a machine gun nest pointed right up at them, and the gunner standing to the side to let them through.
"Good to know we're trusted," Peter mumbled.
They turned into a corridor and exited through the door there. They ended up at the north side of the building, where Resistance members fired out of the tattered walls at the Russians outside. Machine gun fire and occasional RPGs flew inside, killing unlucky people who were in the way.
"Take up positions where you can find 'em!"
A medic was dragging a wounded man to treat him, but fell after a lucky shot brought her down. Another person took up that patient and brought him to safety. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalia saw Alex pick up the injured woman and head for cover.
"Hey, my shotgun's not worth shit here, sir!" he reported, returning to Koslov. "Permission to run supplies and recover casualties?"
"Granted," Koslov replied. "Fetch me a goddamn coffee while you're at it."
"Sir?"
"Just kidding, do what you gotta do!"
Sergei aimed through a hole in the wall and took a potshot. He then displaced to another position, and took another shot. He repeated that cycle, trying to find a different spot each time instead of rotating between the same positions.
Peter set up his LMG slightly away from the streets to help draw the attention away from the people in the portion of the building facing that way, who were taking the most punishment. He fired in controlled bursts compared to the constant rate the Resistance fired out.
Koslov sent an RPG out, taking down some hostile armor advancing on the compound. As he got down to insert a new warhead, Alex jogged in with a steaming cup wrapped in a cardboard sleeve.
"Kaminski?"
"Coffee, sir," he replied, grinning. "The medics had some, this was for helpin' em out. Cheers."
He set it down next to the awestruck sergeant before heading off with a belt of ammo to resupply Peter.
Koslov raised his eyebrows, casually took a sip of his drink, and nonchalantly got back up to search for targets.
Sergei appeared to his right, taking aim before a bullet impacted the wall behind him.
"Fuck!" he cussed, leaving the spot. "Damn sniper thinkin' he's all that…"
A spotlight momentarily glanced a building ahead, one of the windows suddenly producing a sharp glint. Koslov focused his launcher at that window and let loose his rocket.
The projectile entered the window and exploded on the wall behind it. The sniper in question tumbled out. If he wasn't a corpse already from the shrapnel, he would be when he hit the ground.
"Coming through!"
Two familiar people made their way through the hallway, weaving around dazed Resistance fighters stumbling around and stepping over bodies.
"Petrova, on them! Show them the way!"
Natalia stood up and stepped over to them.
"Good to see you, lass," Soap smirked. "Which way?"
"Uh, I think it's this direction."
She took point, speed walking through the corridor in the general direction she thought the exit was.
"Kaminski?" she asked, spotting Alex.
"Just keep going down. You're goin' the right way."
"Come on, you're supposed to know the fuckin' place!" Yuri snapped.
Geez.
They found the end of the hallway, where the stairs led down. Before he started down, Soap took Natalia aside for a moment.
"Might want to get out of here. This building won't last very long."
With that, he nodded and left.
Natalia ran back in, notifying Koslov.
"Got it, we'll get back to the roof. Get a hold of Archangel and we're outta here."
"Archangel 1-2, this is Poacher 3-1! We're going back up to meet you on the roof!"
"No can do, 3-1," Fedorova responded. "It's too hot, and we're not sure about the structural integrity of the building. We can pick you up at the secondary LZ, but you might come under fire from the Resistance!"
Koslov turned around, with a look that pretty much indicated what he would say: Lemme guess. Secondary LZ?
Natalia shrugged.
He got up and headed for the exit, gathering the group members as he went along.
Once they got outside, Soap and Yuri were behind a brick wall, keeping their heads down as fighters futilely charged into the open to be cut down.
"Two nests, building on the right, they've got us pinned down!"
Peter opened up on them for a quick distraction. In that short window, Sergei picked off one, leaving Yuri to slot the second.
"Thanks for the assist!"
While the 141 pair headed straight down the street, the Russians peeled left. Natalia was the last, and looked around the intersection to watch her allies leave. A giant crowd of fighters stampeded down the street, before being abruptly illuminated by a helicopter's searchlight. Beneath the chopper, a tank revealed itself, blowing the swarm of men to pieces and creating a smoking pile of Resistance corpse.
"These people have no semblance of tactics," Koslov remarked. "Can't blame them. They're just civvies who want us out."
The rest of the trip to the LZ was relatively uneventful. They took a path in the direction of Russian-controlled turf, which at the moment the Resistance wouldn't dare enter.
Natalia went over the plan again in her head once she was in the helicopter.
-141 will have snipers in the belltower of the church across from the Hotel Lustig.
-We, however, need not infiltrate. Instead, we will take up position at a building sticking out into the square.
-141 is expected to pull it off. Either Price will take him out in that hotel, or the snipers will take their shots.
-Plan B: If that fails, we can call in rocket strikes from Archangel on the hotel.
-In the event of Plan B, we will be compromised, and that will complicate our evac.
-Plan C: If Plan B is unavailable, we can storm the building ourselves. High-risk.
-Plan B will not be needed, and definitely not C either.
-Makarov won't know what hit him.
"Petrova."
Koslov's voice called from the side.
"You still cold?"
Natalia suddenly looked at him in surprise.
"Yes... I am, Sergeant," she mumbled reluctantly.
Koslov closed his eyes, seemingly avoiding looking at her.
"Very well. I'm going to take a nap. You're welcome to get closer if you like."
Natalia gasped, albeit softly.
"Now, don't be getting any ideas. I'm freezing my balls off too. I've spooned guys on winter missions before."
"Understood, Koslov."
"You know... I don't mind you using my first name. You say my last name so awkwardly sometimes. Just call me Pavel."
"Um, yes, Pavel."
Slowly, she cautiously inched in her seat towards her superior until they awkwardly pressed together.
Everything was fine and dandy until Pavel, in his sleep, unconsciously reached out and wrapped his arm around Natalia. She felt a strange burning sensation in her face, and her heart started beating faster.
Was it fear? She didn't exactly have good experiences in such close quarters with men.
Or was it something else? She couldn't put her finger on it.
Her eyelids fluttered closed as the overwhelming urge to rest caught up. Soon enough, she also was out cold.
Volkov looked back at the two, Natalia slowly sliding over to the side to eventually come to a rest on Pavel's lap.
"That's cute," he murmured.
Jenna was once again sitting next to Frost on the Little Bird on the way home. Her eyes were fixated on the remains of a significant landmark the US Military had just demolished in an effort to save a handful of people.
"Man, I wonder what they're gonna do about the Eiffel Tower when this is done," Grinch remarked.
"One hell of a cleanup effort," Truck agreed.
The entire war was ravaging everything in its path. Now, not only did it affect the people participating, it also affected the environment they inhabited.
The net was buzzing with talk about how the most iconic landmark in France was just knocked over like a bowling pin, but Team Metal remained silent about it on the ride back to base.
At this point, it was just another day at the office.
I finally friggin' updated. Sorry for the wait. I decided to wait for school to be out, and then hit a giant writer's block… blah. This was a hard chapter to make, and I didn't plan it too well.
Good news! My depression's finally let up. School was seriously being a giant stressor, but now that I can finally relax… well…
For all of you confused about what's going on. Basically, Delta's part takes place a day before Poacher's.
-Delta escapes with Volk. (This chapter.)
-141 already knows that Makarov will be in the Czech Republic, but not exactly where. (Chapter before last.)
-Delta interrogates Volk. (Next chapter.)
-141 infiltrates through the city, and Poacher provides support. (This chapter.)
The Ranger Panties bit was a bit gratuitous. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable. It's actually a joke between my pal and I, and it'll probably be a running joke. I made sure to lampshade the hell out of it.
If you don't get it, Ranger Panties are what they nickname the thin running shorts Rangers use.
Sorry about that sex shop scene in general. You see, I like to have one side doing combat and the other not at one time, but since both the US and Russian sides were in action, I decided to play some of Natalia's for pure comedy. The name of the shop is based off these doodles I'd make in another friend's art sketchbook, dubbed as such due to their extremely random nature.
And the Staff of Power is from No Easy Day by Mark Owen, about his participation on the raid to kill Bin Laden. Basically, on a training mission, Owen's CO finds a 12-inch black *cough* toy immediately dubbed the Staff of Power and pranks DEVGRU SEALs with it, strapping it on steering wheels, in boxes of animal crackers, and coiled in gas masks. According to the author, it is still unaccounted for. Ugh.
The chapter's name is based off of that reference, Indiana Jones style.
Try to find all the little Easter eggs I've scrambled through this one! For example, Jenna's line "hold on and I'll let you talk to one" is actually stolen from a real life war hero.
Audie Murphy, most decorated soldier of WWII. That specific line was uttered when the 19-year old lieutenant ordered the 18 remaining soldiers of his company back when six tanks and a bunch of Germans roll in. He then called artillery strikes on them and when asked how close the Germans were, replied with that very line I mentioned. Later he would proceed to hop on a burning tank destroyer and take out around 50 enemies with its machine gun for about an hour.
Guy's got balls of steel, check him out sometime. He actually serves as inspiration for RLW's heroines. He enlisted at 17, and I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned their ages, but I imagine Jenna at 20-21 and Natalia as 22. In the original version of this fic, both were 19 until I bumped their ages up to be more believable.
He also had PTSD, and Natalia's "snapping" moments are in part based on an incident where Germans faked surrendering and killed his friend. He then killed them, took their MG, and gunned down the rest, describing it as
"A demon seems to have entered my body. My brain is coldly alert and logical. I do not think of the danger to myself. My whole being is concentrated on killing."
Sound familiar?
He was in the 3rd Infantry Division, which if you've paid attention, was where Jenna was pre-Rangers.
Enough nerdery.
So apparently one of the countries this fic has visitors from is satellite provider. That means direct link to satellite, and is common for Middle-Easterners. So whoever's out there reading this, kudos for having the dedication for that.
Apparently, our troops also use these satellite providers too, at least if a few examples mean anything. So this one goes out to any of our boys and girls in the service who read this piece of trash and probably laugh at how absolutely unrealistic it is. I know for a fact that I know less about military life than a POG/pogue.
I've started work on a side-project coauthoring another fic, A New Threat. It's basically an AU where the MWverse merges with the Ghosts-verse. Later down the road it'll feature a newly-made OC of mine, Destiny "Bandit" Elliott. Until then, all I'm doing is a bit of rewriting and such, giving it that 5TORMY-feel and making it more fun to read. Check it out sometime if you're interested. Possible RLW references, too.
Once again, take a look at Winter Sky, another fanfic in this universe. Will be updated… sometime.
God DAMN. This chapter's been in the works for so long that EVEN MORE has happened. Go take a gander at author Hawkeye-33's work, it's awesome material if you want more female protag action to fill the void this thing leaves whenever I don't update. Reason why I bring that up is because she's started a fanfic featuring various authors' OCs, which I might have mentioned way back last year. Hopefully it's gonna be kickass, and it's looking to be so far. Plus, it features the totally-not-lovely-piece-of-shit Jenna "Hook" Moore you guys seem to like for some reason. But really, while you wait for that, check out 33's other stuff.
By the way, without checking my profile, just wondering: do I come across as male or female? At least, whenever I don't deliberately mention my gender. Or am I relatively gender neutral? I'm curious.
Anyway, next chapter, we'll see Metal's interrogation of Volk, and the subsequent events following Eye of the Storm. Remember that the Delta missions are taking place a day before the 141/Poacher's.
Jenna hasn't really seen Frost's true colors when it comes to his prisoners… and when he relays the intel to 141, he encounters an old friend from Poacher. Whoo!
Possible Natalia X Frost ahead, just sayin'. As if things couldn't get worse.
And no, Natalia X Peter isn't much of a thing. I played that for comedy.