DIRECTOR'S OFFICE.
Aurelia Arnot was not that easy to impress - but this week, she had been. It had been a week of successful operations for a lot of operators, even for the only two operation she'd sanctioned for the newer recruits.
The teamwork displayed on the mission had been exemplary, not quite as good as the SAS contingent on base who trained daily in teamwork exercises, but for two operators of differing nationalities it was one of the best she'd seen. The mission had also been completed to a good standard, done only the next day and they had returned the day after with all of the gang members accounted for; and a whole heap of information that the German police had praised Rainbow for. They had gone in solo, which wasn't unheard of in Team Rainbow and actually happened regularly; and had thus received thanks from the authorities that there were no casualties due to the operators with special forces training and Rainbow's own technological advances such as the drones and unique operator abilities.
Whilst Monika Weiss was certainly a skilled operative and experienced in Rainbow's activities, having been here since the beginning, the smooth way in which operator Lin Tsang had conducted with the mission was to be commended. It wasn't that she had no such experience in the matters of specialist operations - on the contrary, she wouldn't have been accepted into Team Rainbow if she didn't. But the methodology and equipment of the military unit, layout and infrastructure of the base and routines and most importantly, cooperation with other operators took time to know and train for.
Thus, it was to be said that the two operators stood before her for a debrief had had a successful mission.
"Lieutenant Weiss, was everything you sent in the report before departing from Germany accurate and containing the full detail of the mission, without any updates you have to give me now?" Aurelia asked bluntly to the GSG9 operator stood before her at attention.
"Yes ma'am." Monika replied promptly to that, blue eyes looking squarely to her commanding officer from beneath the rim of her helmet. Indeed, they'd hardly had any time since they'd landed back at the base that they were told to report to Six - and did so straight away, tiredly. Her pack of equipment lay at her feet.
"Good. No complications or extra activity to report either?" Aurelia questioned a final time.
"None." IQ simply responded with the singular word. The leader of Rainbow didn't take any offence to what her own superior would consider rudeness, given the harder work her operators pulled as well as the evident tiredness in the bloodshot eyes of the German.
"Well then, I won't keep you much longer. I do apologise for having you sent to me straight away, but I needed to see if there was anything else to report. It seems I've read all I needed to." Aurelia concluded, lacing her hands together on her desk above said report. "All that is left to do." She stated in a business-like tone as she came round to the second, and final, point of business. "Is to commend you upon a job well done."
"Operator Lin Tsang." Six turned to the Canadian operator, who merely stood a little taller at being addressed, having been sharply watching the entire time anyway from the side without pitching in. "The report from the German authorities contains little about you, given your lack of involvement in the planning stages of the operation. However." She continued, deliberately ignoring the frown on Monika's face, as evident as it was from the crinkles in the mask and facial expression. "Miss Weiss's report contains everything I need to know. It seems you will make a fine addition to Team Rainbow from your actions."
Brown eyes continued to look analytically at Six, something the woman had more than enough experience by now to tell it was more than curiosity - it was something instinctive built in over years of work. "Thank you ma'am." Frost stated in a short, brief sentence.
"No need, operator. Lieutenant Weiss here has commended you upon your ease of which you utilised Rainbow's equipment and procedure, and how you took a large part in the clearing operation of the hideout. For a first glimpse at your combat abilities under Rainbow, they're certainly as good as was recommended to me." Aurelia finalised her speech, getting a nod in response from Frost. "Now, Miss Weiss."
"Yes, ma'am?" Monika replied with an inquisitive tone.
A single, humourless chuckle came from Arnot, who then laid out what had her reacting that way. "This is awfully similar to the situation in Hamburg in which you single-handedly partook in last year, except on a larger scale. But it seems you worked well as a team with Miss Lin Tsang here to take care of that." She summarised. "For that reason, you already know I'm impressed. All I will say is keep up the good work."
IQ only blinked once before nodding. "Thank you." She simply replied.
"Good." Arnot stated with a conclusive, finalised tone. "In which case, you are dismissed operators."
A couple of salutes did indeed finalise the proceedings.
Arnot watched the two operators leave through her door, lacing her fingers in front of her face in thought. It had been true that she was pleased with their work, and she had been impressed - but copious amounts of praise was not handed out regularly for completing such work. It was perhaps expected to be of the normal standard for such operators against untrained criminals, especially for an organisation like Rainbow. But the intelligence haul had pleased the German and relevant international authorities so much that she had been in a good mood.
ONE HOUR LATER.
Monika was not in the best of moods. From having just completed a mission where they'd run solo without backup through the gang's house, to being called straight to a short debriefing to then having to put up with Rook again in the armoury when handing back the munitions. The GIGN task force on the base wasn't on the best terms with her.
"Why do we have to do this now?" She asked with a tone of tired reluctance.
"Because weapons are what you have to rely on in battle to keep you alive. It's alright to believe in whatever strategy, but at the end of the day, a lot of the time in our line of work its who shoots off the bullet first, gets to be the victor." Tina merely explained as she depressed the trigger on her Mk1 handgun, hearing it give a hollow click onto an empty chamber before she flicked the safety back on. Satisfied that the weapon was functioning properly and all it required was routine procedure rather than a check-in, she placed it down on the table.
"Besides." Frost added on as an after-thought, as if the common sense part was secondary to actual duty. "It's better to get everything out the way so you don't have to worry about it later."
"You say that as if you're the one who has to strip and clean an LMG." Monika spoke, grumbling slightly as she did indeed lug the weapon onto the table. The G8A1 thudded down on the table, covering well over two-thirds of the length of it due to to its elongated barrel.
Tina's gaze was drawn to the weapon, before looking back to her friend. "You know that weapon has been around since the 1960s, right?" She spoke sarcastically.
IQ just gave a huff, before reaching up with her hand and slid the mask down off from her face to have an increased inflow of oxygen. "Well that just proves it works then, doesn't it?" She just rhetorically countered. "The Americans love to use their old weapons, and they're getting on just fine. The M2 has been in service for much longer than the Hk21 that this is a more modern variant of."
Frost just shrugged. "Very well." She replied, just getting back to her business of laying out her weapons on the table for cleaning, the shotgun already beside the Mk1 pistol when she frowned. Withdrawing another handgun from her holster, she held up a customised, rubber grip pistol that was a better make than the plastic grip on her own. Turning it over slightly in her hand for a better analysis, she then took hold of it properly and performed a weapons functions test. When it came to the weapon having jammed open the receiver upon firing down on an empty chamber, she held it in a reverse grip and held it to the German. "I do believe this is yours."
Monika looked over to see the customised P12 pistol held out to her, having been properly handled in a textbook manner of gun safety. "Thanks." She merely stated as she took the pistol, and with the experience of a weapon she'd handled for a long time now, merely took the receiver off of the handgun without even looking.
Glinting metal parts looked back at her.
"How have you already cleaned this?" She questioned, not being able to keep the incredulity from her voice. "We've only been here like twenty-five minutes?"
Her masked friend just looked over with a lazy expression, and gave a small shrug. "Hurry up then." Was all the Canadian had to say.
With a groan, she reached forth and grabbed the magazine from the partially disassembled LMG.
AT THE BAR.
Swilling the cider in the bottle round in her hand, Frost was not one for big social occasions. Neither was IQ from the two weeks she'd known her now, but she was the more headstrong of the two for wanting to do something in the evenings. It wasn't that Tina didn't have the confidence for it, but rather she couldn't be bothered with the petulance of it all often times - but unfortunately, the German had more energy than her. Sometimes, a quiet evening just wasn't on the agenda when you had her for a neighbour as she was finding out for the third time. Apparently, once you got to know her, she liked to hang out specifically with those friends. A lot.
"What are we here for again?" Tina just huffed out the question from behind her mask, utilising it to keep her anonymity as she often did with clothing like jumpers.
"Did you not listen to me when I told you twice before?" Monika asked, somewhat put out as her friend just sent her a half-lidded gaze.
"No." Came the unashamed response.
"Fine." Monika spoke, just going with it. "We're not here for the pub quiz, but because the alcohol is half price."
They were sat at a table at the back of the establishment, which was currently very busy - a social setting had been put on for the Rainbow organisation at the bar area given to them. Seeing as how there was still at least a few of the original operators were either yet to take a mission or back from a short one like the two of them, and most of the newer operators were still in a period of familiarisation training, the bar was at full capacity as it was a perfect opportunity for comradery.
Nobody bothered them, however.
"Works for me." Tina replied with a more upbeat tone at that news. Cheaper alcohol wasn't something often turned down.
Nobody bothered them except the British, however.
"I hope you don't mind our intruding, but the entire bar is fuckin' full." Came a masculine voice with a dominant English accent within its tone.
Craning her head round, IQ saw as the four men of the SAS squad attachment to Rainbow stood before them, and perhaps with good reason. They were just two of them sat at a table for six at the back of the bar, which was absolutely full elsewhere - to the extent that a multitude of people were just stood leaning on the counters of the bar.
What Monika couldn't quite believe was that they'd approached her of all people.
"You want to sit here?" She asked them.
The man she looked to as she said it, the Scottish man just shorter than her own height, blinked at how she seemed to be in a bit of disbelief at the situation. "Aye, what's the matter?"
IQ hesitated slightly, before giving a small shrug. "Well..." She wasn't the most popular.
Seamus - 'Sledge' - just scoffed at the woman's indecisive speech, before just gesturing to his fellow squad members to join him at the table. "Yeah, look, listen missy, just cos' most of this base judges you for someone else's actions doesn't mean we will. The French have a bigger bone than most to pick with ya cos of what you did to their fella-"
"Good on ye'." Mike Baker - 'Thatcher' - interrupted then with a slight lift of his drink towards Monika, with Mark Chander - 'Mute' - sending him a small, disapproving look from the corner of his eyes at the utilisation of historical rivalries towards people that were supposed to be their comrades. A small look.
Seamus continued exactly onwards as if he hadn't been interrupted, merely rolling his eyes. "-the Americans because they were particularly on the receiving end of those incidents, and I don't know about your own GSG9 team. But ye' didn't bother to ask about us now, did ya?"
James Porter - 'Smoke' - gave a small, humourless laugh which he utilised to interject his own, finalising point into the topic. "Honest, Monika, we aren't going to judge you based upon anything your father's done."
"Ah-" Monika began, before stopping with hesitation again. "I see. Thank you..."
IQ didn't quite know how to feel, whether that was relief at the fact that at least a few people didn't just judge her, or anticipatory as she looked towards her friend Frost. Silent, brown eyes just looked back to her, curiosity clearly displayed within them alongside the normal uncaring, neutral expression that covered her face with the mask Tina always wore, more than Monika did her own. Confidence failing her as it often did in such social contexts, Monika just let her eyes drift down. The confidence front she often put on, just as often failed.
Tina didn't say anything. Now wasn't the time in the midst of others, who actually presented a good opportunity in changing the subject.
Which the British had naturally already done.
"Right, enough bloody sentimentality. The quiz is starting in ten minutes, and I haven't got a drink yet." James stated with a clap of his hands to punctuate his point.
Thatcher's gaze turned to him with a clear, sceptical look to accompany it. "What the fuck do you mean you haven't got a drink yet, Seamus spent enough time pissing about choosing his beverage at the bloody bar for ages!"
Smoke raised his hands in clear defence of his actions, but before he could defend them, an angry Scotsman turned on their most senior member instead. "Don't have a go at me, ye wanker. It's not ma' fault that this bar serves feckin' Carling as its main shite."
"Right, and what would you drink, Seamus?" James jeered at him instead.
"The best I could get from them-" Sledge began.
"Doesn't look like Guinness." Tina idly shoved her comment into the conversation, which was promptly rewarded.
"As if I'd ever drink that swill!" Seamus spoke aloud his thoughts then, seeming to half-scoff the statement with the right mixture of affronted indignity.
Mark gave a laugh at that, before then seeming to take his humour seriously as he looked over his shoulder. "Don't let that operator Thorn hear you say that." He murmured, still loud enough for the table to hear as he alluded to the new Irish operator on the base.
"I dare her to try." Seamus spoke at the illusionary challenge, in a loud voice with a pointed finger to Mark who turned round to look at the Scotsman. "As if her wee little contraptions can get someone who breaks down the fucking wall."
"Do all you British men swear so much?" Frost redirected the conversation away from the boisterous Scotsman who was getting his own blood pumping, not wanting to listen to it as she still sounded like it was spoken idly.
The youngest of the SAS trio there just shook his head and was about to speak, before the older man let out a hearty laugh and grabbed his comrade's right shoulder. "No, sir! Not mute here, he's the educated gentleman of us all here!" Thatcher declared audibly, before then letting out another laugh at the humour the SAS trio seemed to be revelling in.
Monika put a hand under her head to watch the proceedings, unsure if to laugh along with them or frown - unused to the situation before her. It had been an interesting couple of weeks, that was for sure.
Tina did the talking for her again. "Educated?" She just prompted.
The Englishman's eyes seemed to burn as he glared at his senior. "Don't you dare-" He started to hiss out.
"This fucker here has not one, but two university bits of paper!" Thatcher pompously ignored the warning as he continued with his charade anyway, the slurring in his words becoming more evident as he finished the glass of beer he'd brought to the table. It clearly hadn't been his first. "Started out at fourteen-"
Mute let his teammate know just how humorous he found the situation with an elbow strike to the older man's stomach, making Thatcher visibly winded as his eyes momentarily bulged.
Monika couldn't help it and let out a short laugh. The two British men not up to the antics looked to her, it being the first noise she'd made since they'd actually sat down, before Seamus just shook his own head with a laugh.
"Alright, lovebirds, that's enough out of you two." The burly Scottish man let out then, stopping Mark and Thatcher in their tracks as the older man had fully turned his comrade, ready for some sort of rebuke, before shrugging. Keeping his eye on the two of them for a second more, he made sure that the rest of his comrades had settled down before he picked up his beverage and had another gulp of its contents. "Anyway, did you hear about the new competition they're hosting?" Sledge asked as a way of initiating some serious conversation.
"Oh, is that the new tournament league thing they're hosting?" Mark questioned with intrigue.
"Aye, indeed, it is. An electronics tournament, multiple sports tournaments, and a combat scenario tournament." Seamus stated as he listed each tournament type off with a raising of a singular finger each time. "Some kind ah' way for them to bring all these new people closer together."
Though a quiet person by nature, that didn't mean Tina's tongue was any less sharp as she scoffed. "And why should we care for that?" She sarcastically jibed as a rhetorical comment.
"Ah, but there's prizes involved, missy." Seamus rebuked her sarcasm with a finger in her direction. "I've already signed up the SAS squad for loads of these tournaments, including Mark for that electronics one cos' you actually get a paid-for design contraption built to your own specifications, ma'self for the sparring competition, because money." Sledge paused as took on another drink of his beer, as Mute titled his own glass appreciatively in his direction for signing him up to something he'd definitely be interested in. "The combat scenario I got us all doing because the winning squad gets to decide what equipment they want, all within reason and on Rainbow. Ain't that great?"
"Certainly sounds like it." Thatcher spoke his opinion, most definitely approving of having better equipment - his mind already thinking to some international components he could order from Rainbow rather than the SAS. "My major concern is the unknown element of this tournament. With so many new people, none of which we've yet seen in combat might I add, we really don't know what we'd be walking into. Could get really nastier than the previous squad tournaments."
"You can bet all the original, first-year squads here will be within their own country's groups of four." James commented as he sat at his spot at the table, having temporarily taken leave to get his drink, and catching the last couple of sentences.
"True. Seamus here already signed the four of us up for that combat competition." Mark noted in support of his comrade."
James gave a nod of his head to his comrade at his point already starting to be proven, before he truly registered what Mute had just said. "You did fucking what? You just signed the lot of us to some competition without even asking us all first?"
"Ah' sure did. Problem?" Seamus questioned with a jeery tone to his voice before he very obviously raised his glass to his lips in an exaggerated manner and downing the beer, deliberately provoking the Englishman with an amused glance out the corner of his eye.
The Canadian, however, wasn't there to watch centuries of Scottish-English rivalry being continued as she instead loudly put her hand on the table to get their attention and divert it away from the oncoming argument. "How many people can sign up in one squad for this combat competition?" She asked.
A couple of confused faces emerged at her question, with the Scotsman who'd first announced it obviously having reached the limit of his knowledge on the subject as his thoughtful frown turned into a shrug. "I don't know, I'm afraid." He answered in an apologetic tone.
"One second." Monika finally came into the conversation as she had already pulled out her phone and begun looking up the relevant details on the intranet of the base. Putting down the phone slightly, she answered her friend. "Two minimum. Six max."
"Great. Then we can sign up with these guys." Tina stated in a finalising tone as she slouched back to rest fully against the chair.
A few cursory glances was thrown between the SAS squad before Thatcher spoke up, the British men having reached a conclusion without a singular word spoke. "Not a bad idea there. We'd be happy to see what you look like." He spoke, clearly approving of having extra help in the competition.
"Why? Afraid a couple of women will show up what's supposed to be the best of the British?" Frost just sarcastically quipped back.
Thatcher just laughed at that. "Not at all. So long as the SAS win and the FBI don't again, that's all we care about. Even Rook on the GIGN was happy to team up with us at one point to make sure Pulse, the bloody prankster that he is, didn't crow his head off again. Unfortunately, Ash can just pull off a fair numbers fight in a way I still don't understand to this day - only thing we have on them it seems is that our teamwork is better than theirs."
"Bullshit. They keep teaming up with the Germans." James fired back with an angry looking finger. "Is it any wonder that the previous three combat scenarios have always ended with the GSG9 in second place and the FBI in first?"
Thatcher seemed to murmur to himself at that point, as Seamus spoke up on that. "That is a fair point, actually." He mused in thought, before then turning to Monika with a curious expression. "Not that I blame you Monika, all's fair in war as they say, but have you heard anything along those lines?"
Three more interested expressions swung the German's way as the SAS squad listened for her response, to which she looked rather awkward at being put on the spot, before slowly nodding her head. "He's right." She confirmed, not feeling any guilt in giving away her own squad's strategy.
"See? I knew it!" James spoke triumphantly.
"Appreciated." Thatcher just nodded to his head much less exuberantly as he spoke to Monika. "I suppose we'll just have to have a squad meeting on how to beat that strategy the next time they have a squad tournament. But for this one, can we count on your support in beating your own team, Miss Weiss?"
Feeling much more comfortable at being included now, Monika just nodded her head. "Sure. I don't care." She responded.
"Great." Tina held up a thumbs-up to her friend with an eye-smile, receiving a smile in response.
Mark, however seemed intrigued by the Canadian's reasons she spoke up. "Why are you doing it? Squad standing I'd understand, but you want to be with us rather than the other JTF2 member here."
Frost's face became more bored-like at the subject as her eyes drifted to the most technologically adept of the SAS. "I hardly know Buck." She stated as her first point, before shrugging. "And I care not for the games, or glory-hunting of any kind. I'm here for the prizes."
"As good an answer as any." Thatcher agreed as he drank the last of his own drink, before standing up. "Anyone want a refill whilst I'm going to the bar?"
Seamus didn't say anything as he just shoved his own empty glass in the direction of the Englishman, instead turning to Monika. "I take it that you don't have the other details of the other tournaments then, Monika?" He asked her.
"No, I've been on a mission for the past couple of days." She responded. "Why?"
"Just thought you'd be interested in that sparring comp' I mentioned earlier." He spoke out, before raising an eyebrow as the GSG9 member looked slightly complexed. "Well? Are ya?"
A frown of thought crossed Monika's face, before she slowly nodded. "I suppose." She answered.
"Ah, nobody's forcing ya." Seamus toned down his questioning as he became politer. "If you are interested, then the sign-ups in the boxing ring room. Supposedly it's this Saturday."
The frown remained on Monika's face as she continued mulling over it. "I'll consider it..." She spoke, before then getting rid of the frown. "I'm more interested in the electronics competition, though. But there wasn't much news on that."
"Now that one I'm more clued up on, I just didn't sign up yet." Mark spoke up then. "They know it'll be in one of the two big training halls because there's supposed to be a lot of new tech savvy people joining us, but as you said the details are still murky because they don't know the interest for it yet. Supposed to be next week though." Mute leaned back as he laced his fingers, interest on his face. "I didn't know you were a fan of tech yourself though, Monika."
"Well, I know about your jammers, Mark." Monika replied, getting an appreciative look from the SAS man. "But I suppose not many people know of the complexity of something that's supposed to be a portable scanning device." She finished with a sadder smile.
"It's not that. It's just that I don't think the SAS as a whole has ever worked with the GSG9 operators properly on missions before, I haven't got a good look at your device." Mark explained.
A nod came from the German, before she smiled with enough confidence to jibe at the man. "Is it really that hard to notice something on my arm?" She asked, unrolling the sleeve of her jumper to reveal the spray-painted, jet-black computer scanner on her arm.
"When you hide the small contraption like that, yes." James responded with obvious sarcasm. It settled down after that, as Tina noticed Mark conversing occasionally with Monika over the topic of the technological realm, as the other three men started to discuss the upcoming tournaments.
"So, when is the combat tournament?" Frost interrupted their conversation, getting a thoughtful look from Thatcher.
"Tomorrow, according to Seamus." He responded, before then pausing as he thought upon that. "Which is why it's probably a bloody good idea to get you two signed up now."
Narrowing her gaze with a frosted look, she spoke in a bored-like tone to the man. "And just how are you going to do that at eight o'clock in the evening?"
"Hey, it's no problem missy, this is why we cart Mark around, he's useful every once in a while." Seamus commented with a placating gesture, before turning to said man as Mute had looked round at the mention of his name. "Oi Mark, sign them up."
"As you wish." He stated, before pulling out his phone.
"And just how is he going to do that?" Frost's tone now took on some incredulity as they didn't actually answer her question.
James laughed at her question. "He's great with the tech, so we sometimes get him to hack stuff! His knowledge in jamming also is great for getting into the base's mainframe." He boasted of his comrade, getting a nod in return from Mark.
"Oh, that." Tina spoke now disinterestedly, before waving her hand. "Hacking. Don't bother, Monika's already done it."
A sharp, surprised look from the German was sent Tina's way. "How do you know that?" She questioned.
"Wait, what." Mark let out as he put down his phone. "I didn't even see you do that."
"This thing is a computer." Monika explained as she tapped the scanner on her arm, before looking back to her friend - as Tina just shrugged back at her. Knowing the secrets around Frost, Monika knew if she pressed her question, she'd probably get 'lucky guess' in response.
At least the evening got better, even if the quiz started then.
THE NEXT DAY.
"Cheers for putting up with us last night, by the way." James spoke up as they walked along a corridor. "But there really were no other tables."
Monika, however, was now more focused upon the upcoming combat instead of the previous night as she just brought up her portable LMG to rest across both arms. Something she could focus much better upon, given a distinct purpose of testing her own gadget against other operator's devices that she actually found herself looking forward to. "No problem." She just conveyed through her mask as her eyes focused on the turn in the corridor ahead, mind already churning over what possibilities they could be facing. "Is this where to go for the start of this tournament thing?"
"Yes." Thatcher responded as the SAS squad walked alongside the two operators of differing nationalities. "Though the rules were on the intranet, its protocol to sign a waiver before the event apparently. It's also where we're given the specialised ammunition."
Frost's eyes drifted to the oldest operator of them as he said that, her mind having wondered what would be used in a fictional scenario among friendly forces.
"You know, apparently a stupid amount of the operators have signed up for this little gig we're about to do. They expected a max of thirty according to Miles, but they actually got above forty. That's forty or so internationally renowned military personnel facing off against one another in some big free-for-all." Mark commented out of interest as he was busy checking over some equipment he'd brought along in a shoulder bag.
"That's a lot of people to be running around inside a building. I don't care how big they made it for training purposes." Seamus responded to that with intrigue in his own voice.
Tina gave a huff from the inside of her mask as she came to a conclusion. "Whatever the scenario is, defence or attacking, we stick to within three groups. More mobile, they can cover more ground, and we catch other operators off-guard especially if we can flank round their own movements."
Thatcher gave a glance from the corner of his eyes before nodding. "Not a bad call. We'll see when we're actually given our own scenario."
The group rounded the turn in the corridor they were striding down to be faced with the hand-over area of the initiation area of the tournament they'd signed up for, with the three other members of the GSG9 squad on base getting the last of their supplies from over a counter by a technician.
Dominic was the first to spot Monika in the group headed their way, and spoke up. "Hey Monika. We were wondering what you were doing." He stated.
"Hello Dominic." She just nodded back respectfully, before holding a hand up as Marius then went to voice his obvious interest. "I'm part of this group for this tournament."
Marius's balaclava creased in an obvious frown. "But, we're a team." He said with a troubled tone of voice.
IQ just shook her head slightly. "Let's not go there." She just said gently.
Blitz ended the conversation with just a nod of his head, showing off his professional nature as he moved on with it. "Very well." Was all he said, his voice containing the thickest German accent there. "Good luck." He directed to the group in general before he picked up the tactical, bullet-proof polymer shield he almost always took into battle and walking past them. The other two Germans did the same, expressions covered by the balaclavas the German men wore as standard. The shotguns in both of their hands were being checked over as they went past.
"Either they're going in loud and up close, or they're playing ambush on corners." James commented as he took a final look at the GSG9 team, before then looking forward.
Frost brought out her own shotgun as she looked to it, the Super 90 in her hands then being gripped firmly in one hand as her right hand fished out a sight extension from one of the pouches on her webbing. Tilting the red dot holosight in her hand, the clamps upon it was unlocked to quickly slam it into place on the shotgun, the multitool already flipping into place in her hand to screw it on. "They are not experienced in ambushes though." She merely stated.
Thatcher gave a glance to her, before raising an eyebrow. "Canada's best expert on trapping and ambushes, eh?" He questioned rhetorically, before chuckling. "I think we'll put you in charge of defence."
"Laugh all you like." She responded without even looking to the man, instead focusing her masked gaze on the modification she was making to her shotgun. "Ambushes are often thought of as purely offensive or defensive procedures, requiring preparation." She continued as she finally looked to Thatcher. "But in my experience, it is even better when done in the spur of the moment. Taking the ambush to your enemy maximises how unprepared in return they are, as the human mind has limited spatial focus when already given purpose."
Mark just grunted as he stepped up to the counter for them. "Either way, we can decide when we get to it." He spoke, before directing his attention to the technician on the other side of the counter. "Team four, please."
The technician looked at a register on their computer, before giving a nod. "You're the only team of six we've got registered." They commented idly as they reached under the counter and hauled out a box, but first slid a tablet device across it to the gathered group. "Looks like I know who I'll put my money on. Sign the waiver please, one signature for the team will do fine."
Mark just quickly picked up the tablet and signed it with his finger before sliding it back, not bothering to look back at the other two he'd never worked with before. They were all professionals, despite this being a friendly competition - if they'd wanted to back out of it, they'd have done so by then.
"Great." The technician let out as they received the tablet back. "Then you agree that all the protective equipment you have for this tournament is that you bring, besides the mandated safety goggles. This is for the specialised paint ammunition you will receive, for which you should take note of the following - this paint ammunition can fit all standard NATO and several other categories of weaponry, but your weapons should be cleaned after the tournament due to the tendency to dirty the weapon more than other ammunition. Two paint grenades, and stun grenades, are provided per combatant; and a kill is confirmed when a paint splatter measures an inch or more in diameter. This is to allow for confirmed kills, as well as to make sure that no operator is knocked out for mere splatters."
"We trust you will not cheat and wipe away the paint. It is prone to staining for this reason, as we have the only assured detergent to wash it off with." The technician finished.
"Well, there goes that." Seamus joked with his chuckling then sounding with his Scottish accent.
The technician took no notice as they put their hands on the box containing the munitions but didn't slide it over yet as they had a final thing to say. "In relation to your team..." They paused as they began to read specific comments from their computer screen. "Operator Sledge is forbidden from using his hammer as an offensive weapon against other operators, only as a breaching tool. Frost has agreed to use replica mats lined with paint. Operator Smoke is forbidden from using his noted ability altogether, and instead has been issued with two extra paint grenades to compensate." The technician ignored James' angry look as he turned back to the group. "All other operator abilities have been deemed as non-hazardous in use against other operators."
"Well, cheers." Mark thanked the man as he picked up the box slid toward him, before then letting out a surprised noise at the weight of it, the technician watching in silent amusement.
"Stand aside, midget." Seamus stated as he grabbed the box from him with reference to the man's smallest height among them. With a grunt himself, Sledge managed to take the box without too much difficulty and started moving off with it. "Alright, let's head to an empty locker room."
LOCKER ROOM.
Cracking open the box as the other operators loaded away unnecessary items into a locker they had temporarily claimed, Mark looked into it, spotting the magazines of ammunition and other munitions before plucking out a few sheets of paper. Reading through it, he raised an eyebrow at seemingly their good fortune.
"Hey, we've got a good objective." He called out, grabbing the other operators' attention. "It's the VIP."
"Great." Sledge stated to that, but Tina thought she heard a bit of sarcasm in his voice as that was said. "The biggest group gets one of the best objectives - where the other teams have to kill one of us. It sure sounds easy, being able to keep on the move, if it weren't for the fact that everyone is gonna be huntin' us for a hopeful lucky shot at the right target!"
"Alright, let's not be too heavy in the thinking department." Thatcher cut in, making sure his order as the senior amongst stopped Seamus' point from getting a response. "We've got a good objective only if we go about this the right way, you've both got points." Turning to Mark, he posed a question. "Who's the unlucky one amongst us who has to watch their arse?"
Giving a quick read of the paper, Mute answered him. "Frost." He responded, making Monika look to her friend, before she received a paper of her own as Mark passed round the sheets of paper with the list of objectives on it. "Here, it says the objective of every team on it. The GSG9 has a package to find in the building provided no other team finds it and hides it good, the FBI have a biohazard container to guard, and the GIGN have a VIP too to guard. Spetnaz have no set objective, funnily enough - it just says they're to gather recon data on the other groups and to 'capture' an objective of their own."
"Oh, they won't like that." James laughed. "They're a heavy assault squad for a reason. They don't like being silent."
Tina, meanwhile, had just slammed the last of the shotgun ammunition into the weapon before then cocking it and activating the safety on it. "Well, if I'm the one they're after, might I make a few suggestions?" She asked with a definite rhetorical tone, as she then launched straight into pointing out Monika and Seamus. "You two make a good assault pair, so you two should be a seek and destroy group." Turning to Thatcher and Mute, she explained their group. "You two are good at electronics, that might come in handy." She shrugged at the end of her blasé explanation, and then turned to Smoke. "You've got good experience in seeking and area denial, which will come in handy with my trapping expertise if we pair up."
The SAS squad were silent for a few moments as IQ looked from Frost to them as they clearly had an internal ponder upon those 'suggestions', before Seamus just shrugged. "Aye, the lady made sense. I personally wanna crack some heads, so it works for me."
"It does also make sense for me to be with Thatcher if James is the best person to be with Frost." Mark commented, getting a nod from Tina who then just sat down onto a bench and began preparing more of her own equipment.
It was clear the SAS squad had started their own conversations, as Monika sat beside Tina on the bench and put her weapon down next to her on the floor.
""How are you feeling, Monika?" Frost merely asked her friend, as she focused upon giving her shotgun a cursory clean so then any faults with it using a new ammunition type couldn't be put down to negligence.
"OK, I guess." She responded, taking the time herself to check over her equipment as she rotated the helmet in her hands to adjust the straps on it. Considering the night vision attachment tool on the front of it, positioning it precisely was one of her personal customs. When that had been done and the hair tucked out of her eyes, she merely flipped open the scanner on her wrist with a flick of her wrist. "We're all just waiting for it to start." She idly commented.
Tina's eyes trailed over to the Mark 3 Spectre scanner as her friend had called it, her interest in the device clearly displayed. "You know, you're always talking about upgrading or redesigning that scanner. Why not make it so that it doesn't take up an entire hand when you use it?"
A shrug came from the blonde woman as she typed into the device, running a quick diagnostic of it as she became absorbed in the machinations of her own machine. "That's something I often think of, but I often can't think of a better place. Cost and physical limitations aside, the position of it on my wrist means I can angle the device however I like. That's been pretty useful over the years."
Tina gave a small nod in return. "Fair enough." She responded simply. "But I've got a couple of ideas, I reckon. A hunter never discounts anything."
The interest in Monika's expression, despite being masked, was clear as she paused what she was doing in the scanner and instead turned her eyes to her friend. "Like what?" She asked, curiosity prevalent in her tone.
A small, amused expression appeared on Frost's face as she turned back to her weapon. "We'll talk when we're less busy." She simply stated.
The Canadian could almost feel the annoyed glare sent her way. "Oh, we shall." Came the response.
TRAINING GROUND 3.
Mark and Thatcher were 'killed' almost immediately.
It turned out Mute's assessment of all the year 1 operators sticking together in their original teams was certainly true in the case of the French detachment in Rainbow, with the GIGN squad having ambushed them right out the gate. As a penalty for having the largest team in the tournament, they were accordingly released last - in the outside strip of land surrounding the training building they were told was mandatory to gain access to.
With no cover between them and a hundred metres of cover halfway to the building, not even the toss of a flashbang out the door before scattering and sprinting the distance saved two of their number. In all actuality, it was probably the strategy of scattering and teamwork of the SAS amongst other distractions that saved four of their number from being picked off too. Thatcher had even made it to a piece of cover on the edge to then provide a barrage of sustained counter-fire to hold back the GIGN, allowing Monika and the two other SAS men to reach the cover of a container in the midst of the no-man's land before his helmet was splattered with an accurate headshot.
He was soon being pulled back out after having been informed of this by the overseers of the tournament.
Tina, meanwhile, had fortunately been able to be a bit stealthier in her approach with Mute that she was only being shot at by one of the French squad. Given how well they'd dug in, that was a saving grace on her end as her other three squadmates now were pinned down by accurate fire from the GIGN more strategically located atop a wooden platform just ten metres from them. Far enough away for a good angle, whilst retaining all of the clarity. Given the thickness of the heavy wood, there was no forcing them from that position in firefight alone.
Which meant it fell down to her. Her problem, however, was she couldn't see the GIGN operator that had shot Mute just as they got into the cover they were in. She couldn't very well deal with an enemy position when they already had her covered from another angle.
"Where are they?" She quietly questioned to the 'dead' SAS operator beside her, whose head inclined to look at her. He didn't dare to say anything given the tournament organisers were listening in on their radio communications, but his uplifted finger pointed out where he had seen the Frenchman, who had unfortunately seen him even earlier. On the platform left of where his three comrades were, a metre above them. Looking back at the SAS man with a nod of thanks, Mark apparently wasn't done as he passed something into her hand, which made her eyes widen before she pocketed it.
The closer distance between them and the sole GIGN operator compared to the other two groups gave Frost a better vantage point, enabling her to lift her head slightly upwards to look forwards. Given how the Frenchman, Rook if she remembered correctly from her research into the base's occupants, would very likely be 'holding the corner' per se in terms of just waiting for her to emerge to immediately gun her down, she had a little time. Time Frost put to perfect use as she pulled the pin from a flashbang with her mouth and counted down the seconds.
With just one second left, she lobbed it straight upwards and covered her own eyes.
The flash was but a momentary flash of white across her own eyelids, before she instantly threw herself out of cover with the help of her free hand to vault herself round the corner. Tina's head swam a little as the concussive effects of the grenade minutely set in for her, the relatively close proximity meaning she'd still received the full auditive effects of it. Sound was not necessary, however, as she had memorised the armoured man's position - but the next wooden platform closest to her which had directly overlooked her own, which is why she had been reluctant to just walk right out without a plan.
His own close proximity, but with none of the warning of the instantly detonating concussive device, meant the Frenchman had gone immediately to throwing himself behind cover as his own eyes teared up angrily with ringing ears. The best he could do was squint harshly and let loose a spraying burst of his submachine gun as the Canadian scaled upwards to his position - hitting nothing as instead a full-on shotgun blast to the chest of paint toppled him backwards.
It hurt a lot, but it would cause only minor bruising at worst as the radio in his ear informed him to cease all activity - his death had been 'confirmed'.
"How the fuck do we shift this?!" Came the angry swearing of a Scottish man into the radio on her own ear. "I can barely peak my head up without gettin' shot at!"
Given that she was now stood atop one of the very wooden platforms the French team had hunkered behind to act as a vantage point to keep her group pinned down from, she herself had a good view of how heavy her team was being pinned down. Given the hundreds of rounds of ammunition they'd been provided for just an hour-long tournament, they could do that for a while.
She'd be able to help, certainly being able to jump between the two wooden platforms as she had broken their left flank, but the problem was that she would be preoccupied with that movement. Surprise would be on her side as the 'dead' Frenchman scowling on the floor behind her crouched form couldn't warn his teammates or they'd be all out, but there would still be a large chance the woman on the left of the platform would hear her leap and react in just enough time.
Frost needed just a bit more time.
"I need them to have their heads down for a second, can anyone do that?" She questioned into the radio, confident her speech went unheard over the crack of the pot shots exchanged between the two teams.
Just like she'd done to Sledge's question, the man didn't answer her exactly as his attention was then obviously directed to Monika. "I do believe that's a question to ask the German and her LMG!"
"I'll lay down suppressive fire in five seconds." IQ's voice returned to Tina over the radio, who then quickly slammed another round into the breech and cocked the shotgun as she waited, hidden behind cover from the GIGN squad.
Sure enough, the helmeted visage of the woman shortly appeared round the side of the container, the LMG in her hands being touted in both arms not for accuracy, but for stability - as the roar of the weapon then sounded out.
The wooden cover of the platform let out several cracking noises as over fifty rounds of paint splattered into and around it at harsh speeds and energy, sending the three alive members of the French team ducking for cover. "Merde!" One of them let out as they brought a hand to their helmet to check it was secured properly to their head.
Tina was up and moving right as the noise ceased, determined not to be hit herself but for her to have the maximum time possible to take advantage of the opposing squads being in huddled and ducked, and therefore more vulnerable positions. That analogy was confirmed as Twitch, the woman on the GIGN team that Frost knew of looked up as she began to raise her huddled position into a more prepared crouch just as the thud of someone landing beside her sounded out. Green eyes looked into brown ones behind protective goggles, finding them uncaring as the shotgun in the Canadian's hands was already prepared, having been pointed in her opponent's direction even before the jump.
Paint flew from the barrel of the super 90 shotgun to forcibly push back Twitch and confirm her 'dead', as Frost already moved. In a fluid, controlled motion, her right hand pushed the shotgun vertically upwards to be contrasted by her left pulling the cocking mechanism down as she quickly marched over to the next man along. He was raising his weapon in hand, face shocked as he had to move 180 degrees completely around to where he had been crouched before, but was still too slow. His head was only just starting to show his shocked expression as he had just begun turning as Paint splattered all over his back as Tina depressed the trigger in his direction too.
The third Frenchman could've had a shot at her in theory by being the last to be targeted, but reality was not so forgiving. Tina had had time to think over how she would handle clearing the wooden platforms, having been strategizing ever since radioing her teammates. Her right hand dropped her grip on her main weapon as it would take too long to prime again, instead grabbing and raising the Mark 1 sidearm pistol quickly just as Doc, their medic, turned his MP5 in her direction. Two shots from her pistol cracked out against the torso plate armour of an enemy she'd been facing the direction of all along, versus a man who had only just caught a glimpse of his own opponent.
"Hostiles down." She merely stated into the radio, holstering the sidearm and bringing back up the shotgun with her left. Reloading it, she looked blankly to the French team now sitting there, obviously with the intention of huddling back together before exiting the tournament. "No hard feelings." She spoke blankly, before then turning to the edge of the platform and jumping off the short distance to the ground.
Joining back up with the two now remaining SAS men and Monika, they strode forth to the building now with fortunately no more operators shooting at them.
"Remind me that 'ah owe you a drink for that display, Tina." Sledge spoke, respect in his tone at the first display of combat he'd seen from the JTF2 operator.
"We all owe her one, Seamus. She pulled us out of that nicely." Smoke agreed with him.
Monika merely patted her arm, getting a nod from Tina as the German then spoke. "Thanks." She simply said.
"Thanks for the support." Tina responded, which didn't deign any speech from her friend as she instead eye smiled.
Reaching the large building, the mixed nationality team saw that the entry point they'd arrived at opened up from double doors to a corridor that split off three ways right before them.
"We should still split up, but then meet back up later if we can." Frost recommended as she scanned the three ways to go ahead of them. "With two of our number down, the potential number of other operators we take out is down. So, you two go 'crack heads' as you say -" Frost spoke as she then glimpsed to the Scottish operator. "-reduce the competition, and we'll see if we can't whittle down a few of our own along the way."
Seamus seamed to grin behind the gas mask on his face, clutching the L98 rifle in his hands. "Sounds good 'tah me, missy." He stated.
Seeing him leaning towards the right corridor, Monika stepped up to join him, looking back to just to say one last thing to Tina. "Good luck."
Tina returned a nod. "You too."
Seeing them walk off, James performed a final check of his own submachine gun before looking to Frost. "Just you and me now, Tina." He stated before then walking off to the left corridor. It didn't take them long to run into trouble again.
TEN MINUTES LATER.
In the form of their rivals, the FBI.
"How the fuck did we run into them? We just took out one of the Italian operators, and then on come the Americans!" James audibly complained as he stood in cover behind the wall.
"We'd been chasing him for a while!" Came an opposing, Texan-accented voice from further down the hall that had turned into a brief firezone before the current interlude had occurred. "Given that you stole our kill, we'll go for you instead!"
"Fuckin' competitive bastards." Smoke cursed under his breath only for Frost to hear before responding more audibly with a blind-fire burst as he stuck his gun around the corner and pulled back the trigger for three seconds. After that, he quickly enacted pulling his hand and weapon back sharply as the FBI team responded with three weapons to his one down from the other end of the hall, splattering the wall beside them with differing bursts of colour.
"Let's go." Tina spoke over their radio, getting James to nod as they then sprinted back the way they had come before running into the FBI team. Reaching another corner, they weren't too surprised to see a pincer movement having been carried out by the fourth member of the FBI, Castle, with his shotgun. Both groups running into one another allowed a little bit of a surprised reprieve that James and Tina used to scatter, Smoke certainly running down another end of the corridor as the American's shotgun barked behind him and missed, having been confused as both his targets split up.
The SAS man couldn't afford to try and deal with him in that moment, given how three more operators were rushing down behind them to reinforce Castle.
A hardened barricade strung across the doorway they'd used to enter, the alarm bells of an ambush starting to ring in his mind. However, it was too late to go elsewhere as his head turned left to prepare for the footsteps, he heard coming down that way in the four-way cross-roads that had been blocked in front of him and being chased behind him.
James' eyes widened further than they already had as he saw Elias right in front of him, the shock halting the speed he was going at as he didn't expect the German to be with the FBI. Fortunately for him, he still had enough brainpower to counterattack from what he knew was already coming - lashing out with a full power kick to the shield just as the trigger to activate its ability was pressed from behind it. The chemicals within a frontal compartment on it ignited instantly, triggering a blinding flash right into the Englishman's eyes as at the same time the German was shoved backwards, the sturdy weight of his shield now working against him as he was dragged down unbalanced.
Frost's hand lashed out and grabbed Smoke, hauling him away from a full blast of paint pellets erupting from the muzzle of Jager's shotgun that skimmed by as the Englishman was hauled into a neighbouring room on the right. A paint grenade lobbed out from it forced their attackers to stay back, Blitz recovering just in time to slam down his shield before him to crouch down behind before it erupted, splattering purple paint all over the corridor.
Jager hadn't been so lucky. In standing beside his shield-carrying comrade to gun down anyone aiming at the shield, he had been unprepared when the shield was only covering his lower half in the span of it moving in a few moments, as the paint splattered up the upper realms of his uniform. Bandit, on the other hand, had noticed the grenade just in time to throw himself behind a crate in the corridor. Something that wouldn't have withstood a normal grenade, but definitely did against paint.
The FBI team had been out of range, having retreated out the way of the German team's advance as they stayed back.
"Dirty, cheating, fuckin' bastards!" James yelled out as his hand tore off his gas mask, frantically rubbing at his aching eyes to try and restore his sight. "Should've known you'd team up in a free-for-all too!"
He received no response, however, as the wall he was ducked behind began to show its weakness as the specialised paint ammunition began to shoot right through it under the sheer sustained barrage of the weaker ammunition type. Weak wooden chips rained to the floor as the Englishman, being able to see enough in the narrowed, puffy vision of his, crouched instead behind a brick support as the wall he'd hastily moved from began to be holed with the ammunition sent its way by two teams.
Tina responded with her sidearm, not being able to replicate her previous success with the shotgun as the firefight erupted between the failing wall partition. Given how she had to often fire blindly over cover though, and James' own inaccurate shots with the better weapon amongst them for range with his submachine gun, it was not one they could win. It would only be a short matter of time before the opposing teams successfully stormed the room.
A paint grenade thrown by Smoke through the open doorway left of the partition sent someone's footsteps scurrying back, buying him enough time before it detonated for his vision to become much better. His shots had become more accurate at occasionally forcing the other teams behind cover, not worrying too much about Elias with his shield not allowing him to fire accurately.
The silence that fell not too long after he'd thrown his grenade was an opportunity for both sides. His sight had almost fully recovered, and Frost could reload, but it also showed that their opponents, with likely Blitz from the forefront, were seconds away from storming them. Looking to Tina who had just unrolled another mat onto the floor next to her position, she merely sent an inquisitive but serious glance to him, where he nodded to show he had an idea.
James only brought a finger to the filter of the gas mask he wore in an expression of silence, before slowly picking up a small metal rebar piece from the half-demolished wall. Waiting only a second in the silence to listen, he then tossed the metal piece over the hole in the wall where it clattered against the floor on the other side, sounding familiarly like the metal cannisters he usually carried. "Toxic cannister away!" He deliberately yelled aloud, and tensed his body in preparation to move.
His chance was granted when a yelled shout accompanied his own. "TAKE COVER!"
Knowing they only had a couple of seconds in fooling the opposing team from what should've been a normally instant detonation, he grabbed Tina's arm and forced her up and moving to the doorway on the other side of the room. Running full pelt, they were already in the other room by the time those few seconds were up, not even hearing paint pellets as the two stopped for just a second.
"Work your magic sweetheart, we've still only got moments before they come storming after us." James spoke in an encouraging manner to use her expertise, which she had already set about doing as she unfurled a mat and tossed it just inside the doorway out of sight but would undoubtedly be in the path of any enemy's second step.
"Exactly what I'm counting on." She simply responded as they moved out of that room quickly, as she then simply unfurled a visible, thin wire which was quickly strung across the doorway and taped down to each side of it. "Move." She ordered as she herself broke out into another full sprint into a corridor on the other side of the room. From the sounds of the stomping boots behind, James had joined her in matching her speed, whilst they made no attempt to be quiet.
Tina knew from a mission in British Columbia that nothing hastened an enemy's speed than if those they chased were potentially getting away - straight into the mat she'd left in the doorway. The wire in the second doorway was just the icing on the cake as they would then be weary for traps.
"Wire? What's that gonna do?" James asked as they rounded a corner, slowing down as they rounded a corner in the corridor. She didn't answer at first as she halted a second, before flicking her head towards a doorway on the left. Spooling another bit of wire across the corridor and taping it down and then doing the same with the doorway on the right, she went back to the room where Smoke stood.
"Grenade." She simply requested as she held out gloved hand, fishing out another bit of wire with her other. As a paint grenade was quietly dropped into her hand, she immediately then went about wrapping the wire around the triggering mechanism of the munition and then attaching it to the doorway. Taking a moment to evaluate the trap set-up, she then stood up before then turning to the light switch in the room. Flicking it off, she then made sure it was permanently off as she withdrew her combat knife and stabbing it into the wall where the wire intersected it.
"A good strategy is to always keep your enemy guessing." Tina finally answered James' question, as she glanced to him out the corner of her eyes as they moved into the light of a neighbouring room. "Wire is a stereotypical trap. With that comes the notoriety of knowing the area is trapped - setting off the imagination and paranoia of your opponent who will waste time searching about for non-existent traps. Except, of course, not all of them are 'non-existent'..." She trailed off as she spooled more wire across the doorway and just taped it down.
James took in an audible breath through his gas mask, not hiding his impressed outlook. "Clever." He commented, saving away that trick to his memory for his own potential use.
Blowing a bit of hair out her eyes as she stood up, Frost only nodded. "This will buy us time." She spoke, laying down a plan. "Time we can use to move on a bit, find a defensible position and reinforce it to the best we can."
James worked it out quickly. "And outlast the timer?"
A serious eyed look was sent his way from between her mask and beanie, before she dipped her head. "Exactly."
IQ AND SLEDGE.
IQ paid careful attention to the scanner as she kept her back to the wooden cover they were crouched behind, only turning her head to keep track of her arm as it waved in the direction of the room they wanted to enter. Given they were a few metres away, it didn't have to move far to scan the whole room.
"A mobile phone crouched down on the left side of the room, probably facing that doorway." She informed the man in a low voice, before then furrowing her brow in concentration. "Also two devices are in the room, one above the same doorway, most likely traps. It looks to be those proximity shrapnel devices I've heard operator Thorn has made, but would be filled with paint."
"Thorn, eh?" Sledge mused, before giving a low chuckle. "From what I've heard, she's always been too cocky. Watch and learn, missy - that wall is softer than it looks."
Monika did indeed watch, peeping up slightly over the cover as Seamus vaulted over it, before then grabbing the hammer strapped to his back and holding it firmly in a two-handed grip. Silently drawing it back, he waited a moment before then letting it swing with full power against the plywood wall separating the corridor from the room.
The wall was caved in quickly, a large hole forming as a shower of larger debris and wooden chips exploded inward on the room. It was indeed the Irish operator, the auburn-haired combatant clearly shocked as she had dived to the floor so as not to be smacked in the face with a shower of wooden pellets. Thus, she was caught unawares as Sledge, as fast as he could, held up his P226 sidearm through the hole in the wall and shot her twice in the torso, deliberately against the tactical vest the Irish operator wore. Out for the count with the rules of the tournament, but the armour on her would prevent bruises from forming from the stinging paint pellets.
"Ha! Just as I told 'em last night." The Scottish operator boasted, but received no response from his partnering operator.
IQ instead held up her own customised P12 and fired four times through the opposing doorway in the room, still behind cover and through the hole in the wall. The P12 had lined up with the display of her scanner so that she saw it in real time, able to gun down the person she saw coming running with the mobile phone signature making its way down another corridor.
Lowering her pistol, she saw the surprised face of a Japanese man in the opposing doorway, clearly now a confirmed kill as he hadn't even expected to be shot as soon as he appeared. It was clear to see why the two teamed up operators were surprised - having waited in ambush, with the Japanese man wielding an obvious MP5 with what looked to be a built-in suppressor, their strategy had revolved around a quiet ambush. But, with it being detected before they'd even approached the gate let alone out of it, the surprise had been turned on them.
Sledge appeared a bit surprised but didn't comment as Monika instead urged him forwards. "Enough boasting." She snapped out, focused on the task. "We need to move."
SMOKE AND FROST.
"Shit." James quietly cursed as he looked round the corner slowly, Tina only just retracting her hand as she halted him from stepping on a floorboard. Given that her eyes had spotted how it was actually wedged into the floor rather than aligned normally, it had been tampered with. "Am I glad that the trapping expert came with me."
"Otherwise, you would have put your foot through the floor." Frost responded with a literal comment, a noticeable edge of mirth to it as she crouched beside the doorway that was also next to them in that bend of the corridor. Though she was amused, she was also being highly analytical as her eyes scoured their surroundings - getting a bad feeling beside the mirth. It wasn't just that a trap had been placed, but that had been a 'starter' trap, meant to disable an enemy and announce their presence before a fight even started. Whoever had set it, was thus still around - another ambush. "What do you see?"
A second more of looking down the corridor revealed nothing noteworthy, which in itself set alarm bells ringing. "Nothing, it's just fuckin' quiet." Smoke replied quietly with a curse as he withdrew his head. "But I don't like it."
"Exactly." Tina spoke with a tone of finality. "One does not leave a trap there, with no other trail or evidence elsewhere around it. Whoever set it, is still here." She paused, seeing the Englishman's hold on his submachine gun tighten before darting her eyes to the doorway. "If I am correct, we are at the beginning of an encircling ambush. They're probably right on the other side of this doorway, listening to our every word."
James kept quiet as she said that, his own mask tilting to the doorway before swivelling his gaze back to the corridor to hold position. He'd let Frost take point since she apparently knew what she was doing.
Which was confirmed as a quiet chuckle with a Slavic tone to it sounded from the opposite side of the doorway, drawing Tina's attention to it further as she brought her shotgun closer to her body. Unfortunately, the paint ammunition couldn't even breach weak walls, otherwise she would've blasted the very wall she leant against.
"How right you are, Canadian." Came a Russian voice from within the room she was watching, undoubtedly a member of the Spetnaz squad on the base. "How about the Englishman just walks away, down the corridor, where I promise none of my friends will shoot him so long as we get to keep you as the VIP? I'm sure you have read about how we need our own objective, after all..."
The trailing edge of the sentence made it clear the Russian wanted an answer, to which Frost merely looked to Smoke with a shrewd, questioning gaze. She wasn't worried about being given up from his expression, but it was clear they were outnumbered by an enemy in better positions than what they currently occupied. Seeing the SAS man thinking, she merely reached into her tunic and pulled out a storage cylinder.
James appeared extremely interested in it, especially due to the initials of 'GSG9' stamped all over it. "Where did you get that?" He questioned in a quiet voice during the interlude they had been granted.
"Mark found it from the get-go." Tina responded, before passing it to him.
Flipping it once over in his hand in thought, he nodded to his teammate before standing fully back up and speaking out loud. "Oi, Russkie, I've got a better idea. How about a trade?"
The Spetnaz, however, appeared unamused by the attempt of negotiation as the Russian's voice came back sounding annoyed. "Stop stalling, Englishman. Tell us your answer, the only reason we have not come out shooting yet is because your Canandian friend has no use as an objective to us either if she is 'killed'."
Smoke pressed on with it, however. "How about a nice GSG9 objective instead? We were gonna use it as blackmail, but honestly, trading it to avoid a firefight right now is the better option here."
That seemed to have done the trick as there was a pause in the conversation, before footsteps sounded out in the corridor after a few moments. James didn't dare to poke his head out, just slowing his breathing to listen in closer as he prepared for something.
"Give the package to my colleague in the hallway, and we will grant you safe passage. Just be aware however, that if it is fake or somehow a trick, he is clutching a grenade that will detonate on his 'death'."
Smoke hesitated for a second in order to think, before seeing the urging eyes of his teammate as he then poked his head back round the corner slowly. Standing there in the corridor this time, in plain view, was a Spetnaz operator. They took just a big of a view of hiding their identity as the SAS, with a bulky, darkened camouflage schemed uniform swathing the man also adorned with ski mask and covering metal helmet. Deliberately carrying no weapon, they instead very obviously clutched a grenade in their hand - the motion of their hand making it obvious that the only thing keeping the pin still in it was a tentative finger.
Stepping fully out himself, the SAS man made it obvious that the cylinder in his hand was in plain view, but also kept the gun in his hand close by for any tricks. However, none came as he walked slowly up the opposing operator, and simply handed over the cylinder.
"Ah, thank you, Englishman." The Spetnaz soldier thanked him with a heavy Slavic accent, turning over the cylinder in his hand in a cursory observation before then pocketing it. With a flourishing hand to the other end of the corridor and a step back, it seemed they were being good on their word. "Take your teammate and please depart with haste. Three teams have already come across this way."
Frost was already behind him as he just nodded to the man, slowly stepping forth to begin with before then marching on with haste to clear the ambush zone the Russian squad had set up. Passing through a doorway on the other side, they were somewhat surprised to see the door slam closed behind them, a man having obviously been tucked out of sight just behind it the whole time.
"They planned that carefully." Was all James stated then, letting out a breath to return his breathing to normal from where he had been controlling it the entire time.
"Indeed." Tina simply agreed, before adding her own input. "Let's not choose the first door but take refuge in the second room along there. It will be a good place to hole up."
"What?" Smoke actually found himself asking, the incredulity obvious in his voice as the gaze behind his gas mask turned to his teammate. "Are you mad, woman? They're just behind that feckin' door!"
"Exactly." Frost calmly responded, her own gaze staring back just as calmly. "We don't have to watch ourselves from that direction."
James held the stare a second longer, before sighing and shaking his head. "You better fortify the shit of this room." He muttered, a large part of him still finding that a very bad idea.
"Count on it." Came the determined response. "Meanwhile, you can contact the other two and get them here so we can outlast the timer together and have some more firepower in case the Spetnaz decide to move on. Make sure they come from the right, mind you. They don't have anything to bargain with."
LOCKER ROOM, AT THE END OF THE TOURNAMENT.
Smoke quickly hauled off the SAS uniform he'd been wearing only an hour and a bit, but given that the first half of it had been constant chasing about from at least three consecutive ambushes, the stench of sweat permeated it. "Fuckin' hell." He cursed aloud. "That was nought but ambushes, that tournament was."
"At least you learned from the first one obviously." Mark remarked, sitting on one of the benches in more casual clothes. Whilst frustrated at first at being killed at the start, it meant he had got to then change out the heavy uniform and be able to watch the tournament progress with the CCTV feeds around the tournament area. "You got to survive it unlike me who just got shot. Thatcher went down shooting, but me?"
"Learnt from the first one?" James questioned aloud; sarcasm prevalent. "We went from the French shooting at us outside, to ten minutes later the Americans shooting at us, to lo and behold teaming up with the GSG9 again! I had to literally kick Elias' shield away from me!"
As the SAS squad began a back and forth comparing their different experiences of the tournament, Tina this time sat next to Monika on a bench. Unlike the Canadian who had taken off her tunic at least to better cool herself down, she hadn't even taken her bulletproof combat vest off.
"Hey Tina." Monika greeted to her friend. "Reckon we won?"
"Maybe." Frost responded to her question. "I could bore you with going over with the differing teams and our own performance, but it's down to the judgement of those who organised this. Given not all teams were killed or so, I reckon it's going to be a close thing."
IQ shrugged at that. "Fair enough." She spoke. "What about the other tournaments? Interested in signing onto any?"
"Absolutely not." Tina answered with conviction to that. "I was only in this one for the possible prize, and I can't be bothered with any other one." She then opened up her shotgun and began removing the slug rounds from it to toss back into the box in the centre of the room where the unused ammunition went. "We'll find out the results tomorrow, and that's good enough for me. Yourself?"
"Fair." Monika repeated. "I've signed up to the electronics and sparring competitions. I want to see how well I do against all these new operators."
"Ever competitive, Monika." Frost stated as she looked back up from here shotgun with a casual, about-to-explain expression written into her masked face. "And yet you can only make friends with the likes of me."
The mask on IQ's own face crinkled as she eye smiled. "Ah, you aren't too bad."
