Turnabout
Chapter 5- Infiltration
0145 hours, local time
Torpedo glanced quickly around the landing zone and made sure his team was safely on the ground. After satisfying himself that all was in order, he quickly gathered up his parachute and started digging in the loose soil to bury it. He noticed the other three men were doing the same, the only sound the rasp of the sand as the metal shovel's blade dug into it.
Once his work was done, he belly-crawled to the edge of the outcropping the team had landed on in an attempt to get his bearings. Flipping down his night-vision goggles and scanning the horizon, he estimated the team was about a half-hour hike or so away from their objective. With only five days to locate Turnabout and exfil, Torpedo knew there was not a moment to waste. When the team was gathered together, Torpedo gave the order to maintain complete radio silence and signaled them to move out.
The deep desert sand, combined with the heavy loads each man was carrying stretched the thirty minute hike across the better part of two hours. Each warrior was pushed to the limit of his endurance when they finally reached firmer terrain and picked up the pace a bit. Depth Charge, who was walking point, gave the full-fist hand signal to stop, then motioned Torpedo up while Shipwreck and Wet Suit fanned out into defensive firing positions.
Torpedo pointed to himself, then at Depth Charge, raised both fingers to his eyes and motioned to the small cave found behind some rocky boulders and a low overhang. The two men started forward, eyes constantly scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. Moments later their investigation was complete, and they motioned the other sailors to join them. Torpedo signaled his intent to camp here for the evening, and Shipwreck and Wet Suit unshouldered their packs and headed out to reconnoiter the area while he and Depth Charge quickly set up camp inside the small shelter.
"Welcome to Club Sand," quipped Depth Charge as the other sailors entered the cave. "I'm sorry but our hot tub and weight room are temporarily down for maintenance. Please feel free to swim in the sand sea however. Our guests have raved about the miracles it does for your skin."
The other warriors grinned at the newest member of the team, forgetting for a few seconds how deep inside hostile territory they were. They settled in to a quick meal of MREs then Torpedo assigned watches to get them through the remainder of the night, as well as the following day.
0400 hours
Destro was not known for being a patient man. He seethed as he paced back and forth in front of the low table holding maps of the surrounding terrain. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE LOST THEM???" he roared.
"Sir, they seem to have gone to ground before reaching their objective. For some reason, the tracking beacon planted on them is not functioning, and we've lost visual cont-" the Tele-Viper's dialogue was interrupted by the deafening boom of a large-caliber handgun going off in the small space. Blood and brains splashed on the wall and coated Scrap Iron's chest and face. The other Tele-Viper present stood stunned, bits of skull dripping off his goggles.
"I really wish you'd quit killing the help, Destro. It's getting harder and harder to explain to COBRA Commander. And stop waving that cannon around," Scrap Iron said.
Destro lowered the desert eagle and grabbed the remaining Tele-Viper by the shoulders and pulled him closer, lowering his voice to an icy whisper. "Find them. Now. I will not wait any longer."
"S-sir, y-y-yes, s-s-sir!" stammered the panicked Tele-Viper. Destro released the man with a shove, sending him sprawling across the map table and scattering maps, writing utensils, and notes all across the room.
"And clean that up before you leave my sight," Destro said over his shoulder. "You know I can't stand a mess." At that, he laughed cruelly, his cold eyes still radiating his boiling anger. "ANASTASIA!"
The Baroness appeared from the shadows in the doorway, her expression a mixture of terror and love for the man in front of her. She said nothing, simply waiting for her beloved to tell her what he needed. The man in the silver mask pulled her close, stroking her hair and inhaling her scent.
"We are leaving, my dearest," he said as he embraced her. "It's time for a Joe hunt." As he turned to leave, he failed to notice the small smile shared between Scrap Iron and the woman he held in his arms.
0635 hours
Wet Suit was sitting watch at the cavern mouth when a flash of light drew his eye to the northern corner of Sinjar, where the main road entered the small city. He withdrew back a bit from the lip of the cave and brought his field glasses to his face for a better look at the approaching vehicles.
"Chief, you'd better come take a look at this," he called back over his shoulder. Torpedo stirred from his rest and crawled over to Wet Suit's position, taking the proffered glasses. As he brought them up to his eyes, he bit back a curse.
The vehicle in question was clearly marked with COBRA symbols, and the man in the driver's seat was well known to all the Joes on this mission. "What do you suppose he's looking for, directions?" Torpedo asked.
"Funny, Chief. Destro beats us to the punch and you crack jokes. I don't like this," Wet Suit countered.
"Neither do I, but we've got a mission to run, and we knew it wouldn't be easy."
"What's all the racket about? You guys sharing something you don't want us to have?" Shipwreck asked with Depth Charge looking over his shoulder.
"Negative. We're watching one of the boss snakes drive into town. Three guesses as to what he's looking for and the last two don't count," Torpedo replied.
"And here I was hoping for a nice, quiet stay at Club Sand," Shipwreck groaned. "Who do we have?"
"Does a beryllium steel mask ring any bells?" Wet Suit added.
"Hmmmm," Depth Charge thought for a moment. "Is it that creepy guy that was on Max Steel?" he asked with a dead serious expression. Wet Suit showed him who number one was, his stony face creasing into a wide grin.
"But I thought I was your favorite," Shipwreck moaned. "Oh, the humanity!" he swooned, with the back of one hand pressed to his forehead.
"Let's get serious, gentlemen," Torpedo broke in. "This ups our timetable significantly, and that could be a problem."
"Do you think they know where Turnabout's located?" asked Depth Charge.
"Negative, but I do think they know we're here," responded Torpedo.
"What makes you say that, Chief?" this from Shipwreck.
"Well, I'd say it's just a gut feeling, but the Stinger patrols I saw leaving the village while you all were playing grab-ass would be more accurate," the big SEAL replied. "It looks like two cars went in each direction, so if my estimates are right, they should be here by just after nightfall. Let's get this hole sterilized, sailors. They can't know where we've been."
0642 hours
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 005 reporting movement in a small ravine south of objective."
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 005 acknowledged. Same movement spotted by 013. Preparing to intercept."
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 022 will provide cover."
As the two sand vipers closed in on their objective, they assumed a kill- team formation which would allow nothing to slip through once they opened fire. They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with a small herd of goats led by an obviously frightened young boy, who was busy soiling himself as he gazed upon the two apparitions which just appeared before him.
*skkkrit*
"False alarm 022. Keep your eyes open."
*skkkrit*
"Copy that. 022 out."
0643 hours
The SEALs performed one last sweep of their shelter before moving out into the already-hot desert. Satisfied no traces of their passing showed, the sailors moved out towards the east and another rock gully (or wadi as it was known locally) to possibly hole up in.
They were blissfully unaware of the three COBRA troopers less than 100 meters away, and the Sand Vipers were equally unaware of them. The Joes moved quickly and quietly for the closet wadi, careful to keep their heads down and their senses sharp.
Little did they know that things were about to get white-hot, and in a few short hours their mission would take a turn for the worst.
Chapter 5- Infiltration
0145 hours, local time
Torpedo glanced quickly around the landing zone and made sure his team was safely on the ground. After satisfying himself that all was in order, he quickly gathered up his parachute and started digging in the loose soil to bury it. He noticed the other three men were doing the same, the only sound the rasp of the sand as the metal shovel's blade dug into it.
Once his work was done, he belly-crawled to the edge of the outcropping the team had landed on in an attempt to get his bearings. Flipping down his night-vision goggles and scanning the horizon, he estimated the team was about a half-hour hike or so away from their objective. With only five days to locate Turnabout and exfil, Torpedo knew there was not a moment to waste. When the team was gathered together, Torpedo gave the order to maintain complete radio silence and signaled them to move out.
The deep desert sand, combined with the heavy loads each man was carrying stretched the thirty minute hike across the better part of two hours. Each warrior was pushed to the limit of his endurance when they finally reached firmer terrain and picked up the pace a bit. Depth Charge, who was walking point, gave the full-fist hand signal to stop, then motioned Torpedo up while Shipwreck and Wet Suit fanned out into defensive firing positions.
Torpedo pointed to himself, then at Depth Charge, raised both fingers to his eyes and motioned to the small cave found behind some rocky boulders and a low overhang. The two men started forward, eyes constantly scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. Moments later their investigation was complete, and they motioned the other sailors to join them. Torpedo signaled his intent to camp here for the evening, and Shipwreck and Wet Suit unshouldered their packs and headed out to reconnoiter the area while he and Depth Charge quickly set up camp inside the small shelter.
"Welcome to Club Sand," quipped Depth Charge as the other sailors entered the cave. "I'm sorry but our hot tub and weight room are temporarily down for maintenance. Please feel free to swim in the sand sea however. Our guests have raved about the miracles it does for your skin."
The other warriors grinned at the newest member of the team, forgetting for a few seconds how deep inside hostile territory they were. They settled in to a quick meal of MREs then Torpedo assigned watches to get them through the remainder of the night, as well as the following day.
0400 hours
Destro was not known for being a patient man. He seethed as he paced back and forth in front of the low table holding maps of the surrounding terrain. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE LOST THEM???" he roared.
"Sir, they seem to have gone to ground before reaching their objective. For some reason, the tracking beacon planted on them is not functioning, and we've lost visual cont-" the Tele-Viper's dialogue was interrupted by the deafening boom of a large-caliber handgun going off in the small space. Blood and brains splashed on the wall and coated Scrap Iron's chest and face. The other Tele-Viper present stood stunned, bits of skull dripping off his goggles.
"I really wish you'd quit killing the help, Destro. It's getting harder and harder to explain to COBRA Commander. And stop waving that cannon around," Scrap Iron said.
Destro lowered the desert eagle and grabbed the remaining Tele-Viper by the shoulders and pulled him closer, lowering his voice to an icy whisper. "Find them. Now. I will not wait any longer."
"S-sir, y-y-yes, s-s-sir!" stammered the panicked Tele-Viper. Destro released the man with a shove, sending him sprawling across the map table and scattering maps, writing utensils, and notes all across the room.
"And clean that up before you leave my sight," Destro said over his shoulder. "You know I can't stand a mess." At that, he laughed cruelly, his cold eyes still radiating his boiling anger. "ANASTASIA!"
The Baroness appeared from the shadows in the doorway, her expression a mixture of terror and love for the man in front of her. She said nothing, simply waiting for her beloved to tell her what he needed. The man in the silver mask pulled her close, stroking her hair and inhaling her scent.
"We are leaving, my dearest," he said as he embraced her. "It's time for a Joe hunt." As he turned to leave, he failed to notice the small smile shared between Scrap Iron and the woman he held in his arms.
0635 hours
Wet Suit was sitting watch at the cavern mouth when a flash of light drew his eye to the northern corner of Sinjar, where the main road entered the small city. He withdrew back a bit from the lip of the cave and brought his field glasses to his face for a better look at the approaching vehicles.
"Chief, you'd better come take a look at this," he called back over his shoulder. Torpedo stirred from his rest and crawled over to Wet Suit's position, taking the proffered glasses. As he brought them up to his eyes, he bit back a curse.
The vehicle in question was clearly marked with COBRA symbols, and the man in the driver's seat was well known to all the Joes on this mission. "What do you suppose he's looking for, directions?" Torpedo asked.
"Funny, Chief. Destro beats us to the punch and you crack jokes. I don't like this," Wet Suit countered.
"Neither do I, but we've got a mission to run, and we knew it wouldn't be easy."
"What's all the racket about? You guys sharing something you don't want us to have?" Shipwreck asked with Depth Charge looking over his shoulder.
"Negative. We're watching one of the boss snakes drive into town. Three guesses as to what he's looking for and the last two don't count," Torpedo replied.
"And here I was hoping for a nice, quiet stay at Club Sand," Shipwreck groaned. "Who do we have?"
"Does a beryllium steel mask ring any bells?" Wet Suit added.
"Hmmmm," Depth Charge thought for a moment. "Is it that creepy guy that was on Max Steel?" he asked with a dead serious expression. Wet Suit showed him who number one was, his stony face creasing into a wide grin.
"But I thought I was your favorite," Shipwreck moaned. "Oh, the humanity!" he swooned, with the back of one hand pressed to his forehead.
"Let's get serious, gentlemen," Torpedo broke in. "This ups our timetable significantly, and that could be a problem."
"Do you think they know where Turnabout's located?" asked Depth Charge.
"Negative, but I do think they know we're here," responded Torpedo.
"What makes you say that, Chief?" this from Shipwreck.
"Well, I'd say it's just a gut feeling, but the Stinger patrols I saw leaving the village while you all were playing grab-ass would be more accurate," the big SEAL replied. "It looks like two cars went in each direction, so if my estimates are right, they should be here by just after nightfall. Let's get this hole sterilized, sailors. They can't know where we've been."
0642 hours
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 005 reporting movement in a small ravine south of objective."
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 005 acknowledged. Same movement spotted by 013. Preparing to intercept."
*skkkrit*
"Sand Viper 022 will provide cover."
As the two sand vipers closed in on their objective, they assumed a kill- team formation which would allow nothing to slip through once they opened fire. They rounded a corner and found themselves face to face with a small herd of goats led by an obviously frightened young boy, who was busy soiling himself as he gazed upon the two apparitions which just appeared before him.
*skkkrit*
"False alarm 022. Keep your eyes open."
*skkkrit*
"Copy that. 022 out."
0643 hours
The SEALs performed one last sweep of their shelter before moving out into the already-hot desert. Satisfied no traces of their passing showed, the sailors moved out towards the east and another rock gully (or wadi as it was known locally) to possibly hole up in.
They were blissfully unaware of the three COBRA troopers less than 100 meters away, and the Sand Vipers were equally unaware of them. The Joes moved quickly and quietly for the closet wadi, careful to keep their heads down and their senses sharp.
Little did they know that things were about to get white-hot, and in a few short hours their mission would take a turn for the worst.
