Alright, so you might've noticed a name change. For the past year, I've been sitting on the name and to be honest, I hated it. Renaming it to Shadow Company wasn't that hard of a change, because that's the name of the security department of Ronin's Oil Company. Also, the story picture is literally a screenshot of MW2019s Shadow Company. That, and the story has a loose influence from Call of Duty's Shadow Company. Of course, there is still Phantom Platoon (I realize that a squad is made up of 4 people and a platoon is 11, so Phantom Platoon makes more sense). Another thing I failed to mention that I'll get into further detail later in the story is that the real word places I mention (Congo, Texas, etc) are all small settlement towns outside the kingdoms. Pseudo trade towns of sorts. Ight, that's about it for author stuff. Also I did not mean for the chapter to be this long. My bad.
Reviews are appreciated, both mean and nice.
Roman would consider himself a charismatic guy. His eyeliner, his hair, his fashion, his personality, his "personality", it all didn't get to where it was overnight. No, he had to work day in and day out to make it all as charming as possible. Countless hours went to make-up practice, years of experience socializing with the biggest names in the Vale underground scene, and years of swindling and being swindled got him to be the man he is today. He had spent ages climbing up the social ladder of the criminal world and he could now consider himself the top dog, the man that all crime went through in Vale. That was an accomplishment that took him ages, with recent outside help of course. And he looked good while doing it too.
That's why when the White Fang came into Vale, he was more than willing to offer them a helping hand. Were they a radical terrorist group that was probably looking to destroy Vale? Eh, maybe, but he could make a quick buck out of it. From working with them so far, all they needed were some warehouses that he owned and some assistance with robberies of SDC shops, as well as some manpower here or there. Maybe some smuggling of goods here or there. Why did they need dust, manpower, or to smuggle goods? He didn't know. He worked on a don't ask, doesn't tell basis and charged extra for the secrecy. The less he knows, the more they felt secure about it. And with recent developments, they didn't have to fear rival gangs sabotaging their progress, without his knowledge of course. Of course, that didn't stop him from having all the information they didn't want him to have. He would take a peek into their plans and cargo, or their "secret plans" and cargo logs. It was kind of funny how dumb these animals were, leaving valuable information out in the open for him to snoop at. That kind of information paid handsomely, and for the past half year, it has.
When the White Fang started to clamp down on their security, he noticed. They started to become vaguer with their requests, they stopped leaving valuable information out in the open, and they started to secure their cargo more tightly, much to his chagrin. Roman wasn't stupid, he could pick up on why, and the White Fang wasn't secret about it either. Always complaining that some "Phantom Force" was raiding their depots and warehouses, killing off their men, and intercepting their shipments of arms and explosives. These complaints have been pretty recent too, maybe lasting the past month or so. While it wasn't a long time frame, it was long enough to spook the damn animals. Of course, Roman found a way to get the sensitive information anyways. There was always one slip up he could catch, just enough of a slip up for him to get that information to pay him. Who was paying him? Why that was his little secret.
But damn, today these animals were being really secretive. Roman was currently in a warehouse next to a port, the White Fang had just smuggled some "goods" in through a fishing ship from Atlas. The port wasn't too far from downtown, maybe being a good five minute drive away. For most criminals, that would be too close, a little too on the nose, but not for Roman. It was perfect. Nobody expected part of his smuggling operation to be so close to the city. They expected it to be at one of the ports on the far side of the city, further away from civilization. Because of that, these ports were under significantly less surveillance. That, and the people that worked here were paid too little to notice or care when Roman walked in their warehouse.
Since it was close to two in the morning, most of the workers had left for the day, leaving him and a bunch of white fang members in the warehouse. Of course, for some reason, he had to tell the damn animals not to show up in their uniforms, wearing the grimm masks and all. These guys did not know the first thing about subtly, but he guessed that wasn't their whole schtick, with the whole "The entire human race will pay" or whatever.
Roman watched as a group of white fang members wearing different basic attire walked off the large fish ship with dollies, each one filled with wooden crates. They each parked their dollies and removed the wooden crates in front of a truck that read "Neapolitan's Ice Cream Parlor", a white fang supervisor with a clipboard checking each crate.
Roman strutted up to a stack of wooden crates. He read the top that said 'FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE'. He smirked and attempted to open one of the crates with his cane. "Well, well, well, what do we have here". As soon as Roman got any leverage on the crate, the supervisor smacked it down with force.
"That is none of your business human!" He snarled. "Khan doesn't pay you to know, she pays you to deliver".
"Now, now, now" Roman smiled. "No need to get hostile. Simply knowing the general idea of the contents of the 'goods' lets me know where to locate them. I wouldn't want to put a large shipment of, I don't know, cocaine, to be right next to the DEA, now would I? And besides, I was under the impression that Tarus was fine with me having a general idea, as long as it wasn't specifics".
"Taurus isn't involved in this operation anymore" The supervisor grunted. "He has more pressing matters to handle. Khan has taken it upon herself to oversee this operation, and she is not okay with you knowing anything. Especially not with the increase in VPD activity".
"All the more reason for me to know'' Roman smiled. He worked his way behind the supervisor, trying to get a glimpse at his clipboard. However, every time Roman was out of his peripheral vision, he would snap to face Roman, never giving him a chance to peek at it. "With VPD increasing, I know the locations to send more, how do I say this, 'valuable' cargo?".
The supervisor snorted, facing his clipboard away from Roman "I think we'll take our chances, human. I think we can do just fine".
Roman shifted to the right of the supervisor trying to look at his clipboard one last time, the supervisor shifting along with him. Roman sighed, getting a shit eating grin from the faunus in front of him. "If you say so" Roman shrugged. "Can I at least know where you're taking my wonderful truck?". The supervisor looked back down at his clipboard, writing something down, clearly ignoring Roman. Roman stared past him and into the side mirror of the truck, just barely showing the clipboard. Roman moved a little, but was able to make out the word "Ordinance". With this, Roman turned away and started walking to the truck.
Once he got to the side of the truck, he dug around in his pocket and fished out a small device. Once he took it out, he examined it. It was the diameter of a coin and had the weight of a small rock. It was all black in color, with one side having a small sheet of plastic. Roman looked back at the supervisor, he was too busy scribbling something down for him to pay attention, then back at the device. He peeled the plastic off the rear of the device, the surface under said plastic being sticky. He looked back one last time before placing it on the bottom of the truck, just out of sight. Roman walked away from the side of the truck as if nothing happened.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck" Roman waved off. He heard the truck come to life, the engine humming low. He turned around to see all of the crates had been loaded into the truck, with the supervisor putting the piece of paper he had been writing on on the inside of the truck. He closed the back of the truck and signaled the driver that he was good to leave. He had then turned back to Roman. "Just make sure you pay me, alright?"
The faunus huffed, walking away in a hurry. Roman waved him off and walked away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw movement. He looked towards the direction he saw the blur, it was a roof window of the warehouse. Roman squinted and saw nothing. He rubbed his eyes and saw nothing.
"Shit" Roman thought as he rubbed his eyes. "I just ruined really good mascara". Roman waved off the movement as some bird or rat or lack of sleep. Whatever, wasn't his concern. Once he was out of sight, he pulled out his scroll and open an app. The device he had put onto the truck was a tracker. Roman watched it move across Vale, driving across highways the interstates before arriving at a warehouse maybe fifteen minutes away from his favorite ice cream shop. Roman smirked. Roman walked away from the warehouse and made sure he was out of earshot before dialing the scroll. The scroll rang, rang, and rang. Roman tapped his foot on the floor in impatience. He was then sent to voicemail. 'Sonofabitch' Roman thought before redialing. This time, after the first few rings, the person on the other end picked up, much to their displeasure. It was clear they just woken up.
"Arc" Roman smiled. "I have something you might like".
…
…
…
…
"And you couldn't fucking text it to me?"
Blake paced back and forth in her dorm, her body restless from her recent discoveries. She had a pen in her left hand, her thumb constantly pressing against the end. Clicking the pen filled the room along with her uneven breathing and steps. Her eyes had bags under them, and her lack of sleep was prevalent. Behind her stood her desk, or rather the mess on it and the wall behind it. It was a bulletin board filled with Polaroid pictures, thumbtacks, sticky notes, and different colors of sting all scrambled everywhere. There were scribbles of writing on the sticky notes near different pictures of places and people, as well as a large sticky note in the middle that read 'Phantom Group?'. There had been a picture of a soldier too. He had an all black top and black combat pants, black boots, and a tan armor vest. He had a helmet tan helmet on as well as a black balaclava to cover his face. He had a weapon that Blake hasn't seen before, some weird abomination that looked too simple to do much of anything. The weapon itself had a sight, a grip, and a suppressor. Blake had a red circle around his right arm, a patch being the focus. It was a spade with a rook inside. He was looking away from the camera, the picture obviously being taken without the soldier's knowledge.
Blake's mind had been in a spin for the past month. She had already been investigating White Fang's presence in Vale before this 'Phantom Group' showed up, noting how they were working with Torchwick of all people. The White Fang already caused her too much distress and was the main source of her restlessness, the new group only added to it. What was the White Fang doing in Vale, and working with a human no less? Who was this Phantom Group, and what did they want? Did they want more control over Vale and push them out? Why work with Roman if most of the rival gangs in the area suddenly disappeared? All of these questions flowed through Blake, all remained unanswered.
Blake snapped her head towards the door as the handle turned, people talking on the other side. Blake's anxiety spiked through the roof. That combined with her cluttered mind made her scramble in panic, not aware of who would be on the other side of the door. When the door flung open and Yang appeared, she nearly jumped.
"Nah Rubes I've been thinking about taking Bumblebee for a ride" Yang walked into the room looking back at Ruby, Wiess following the both of them. "It's been too long and you can't leave motorcycles alone or they'll just break".
"Really?" Ruby asked. "That just sounds like bad engineering to me"
"That's just how it is" Yang flopped on her bed, yet to look at Blake. "Gives me more of a reason to get out and ride".
Yang rolled around on her bed, stretching her arms and back. She yawned and looked Blake's way, a clear face of confusion as she did. She opened her mouth to ask, but Weiss beat her to it.
"Blake, what is this?" She asked, an eyebrow raised. "This looks like one of those conspiracy boards I see all the time".
Yang got out of her bed and walked over, examining the board. Her eyes went across the board following each string and picture. Different pictures of white fang, sticky notes, the red axe gang she had a run-in with, and a group of black clothed armed men. She tried to make heads or tails of it, but the more she looked at it, the more she got lost. "Yeah Blake, this looks really complicated. What with all this?". She looked back towards Blake, noticing the bags under her eyes and the sweat on her face. "Woah, Blakey. Are you okay?".
Blake sighed. "No, I can't really say that I am. I've been busy".
"Yeah," Wiess paused. "We can see that.".
"How long have you spent on that?" Ruby asked.
"Countless days" Blake answered, her eyes staring off into space not looking at anyone in particular.
"Did you get any sleep?" Ruby asked, concern filling her voice. It hurt her deeply to see her teammate in the state that she was in.
Blake didn't answer but instead chose to keep staring off into space. Her silence said enough, answering Ruby's question. "Blake, you need sleep".
"NO" Blake snapped, her attention now at her startled teammates. "I need to figure out what the White Fang is doing in Vale!".
The rest of her team looked at each other before Wiess spoke up. "Blake, we should leave this to the police. We're just huntress in training".
There was tension in the room as Blake blankly stared back at Weiss. She took a pregnant pause before speaking up again. "I can't sit around and do nothing. No with what I know".
"Then don't" Ruby stepped forward. "Submit what you do know to the police. Let the professionals handle it".
Blake wanted to. She really did. Let the police handle it and allow her to get as much space from the terrorist organization she was once a member of. But she couldn't. Her turning in her information could lead to them discovering she was once a part of the group. Not only that, but the police themselves were a joke. "Ruby, everyone knows that the VPD is grossly incompetent. Hell, they couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper bag let alone a terrorist group!"
"I dunno Blake" Yang countered. "They've been doing a good job for the last couple of months. Vale hasn't been safer in, I don't know, 100 years".
Blake wanted to counter with what she knew. It hadn't been the police that had warded off crime in Vale, it was this phantom group. Blake wanted to tell them, but she didn't want to go back and forth with what little physical information she actually had let alone a 'conspiracy' that was held up by straws. Blake sighed, dropping her shoulders in defeat. "Yeah, I guess you guys are right"
"That's the spirit Blakey" Yang patted her shoulder. "C'mon. Come out with me. I'm going to the club. It looks like you could use some R and R".
"No" Blake smiled. "I'm good. I'm not the club type".
Yang simply shrugged in return. "Whatever floats your boat".
"You could come with Weiss and me" Ruby spoke up. "We're going to shop for some dust. You could tag along".
"Thank you for the offer Ruby" Blake smiled. Her smile slowly morphed into a yawn. "But I'll have to pass. All of this…" Blake motioned to the board behind her. "...has kept me up for a while. I think I'll just go to bed early".
Yang raised her eyebrow and looked at her scroll. It read 07:34pm and the sun was still out. Yang was going to mention it but Ruby spoke up before her.
"I think that's a wonderful idea" Ruby's face glowed with joy. "It looks like you need the rest". Ruby ushered her teammates out of the door. "We'll leave you be. Please take care of yourself. You matter to us, and you matter to me. Take as much time as you need. And please, let us know if you need anything".
Blake's face was hesitant to smile as she looked down, but she eventually forced one. "Thanks, Ruby" Blake looked up and toward Ruby who had turned around when she spoke. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry".
"Psshhh" Ruby waved Blake off in a childish manner. "Don't be sorry for being worried. That just means you care". Ruby smiled, then stepped out of the room closing the door behind her.
Blake dropped her smiled immediately and grimaced. She wouldn't lie, she did feel guilty, but she just couldn't shake the paranoia. She felt responsible for the White Fang, and it was her mess to clean up and her's alone. Blake went to her closet and opened it. She reached in and grabbed her Gambol Shroud. She walked back to her board and examined it, honing in on the most recent picture she took: a warehouse that the white fang truck had stopped at. She sighed and stepped towards the window. She opened the window in one swift motion and stepped out, pausing and looking back into the room. She made one last grimace before fishing the scroll out of her pocket and tossing it on her bed. After that, she jumped.
Morris rubbed his temples as he sighed, leaning on the front counter of the ice cream parlor. He wore the parlor's standard uniform with, what he considered, a overtly goofy looking hat on his head. He scanned the parlor noticing it was empty, all of the tables were deserted and no one was near the front door.
He was frustrated as all hell. He sighed, took off his hat to expose his shaven head, and scratched the top of it. The team had been recently briefed on an upcoming mission a couple of days ago. One of the Shadow Company contacts had given a tip on a White Fang ordnance movement to a local warehouse and it got all the boys excited, Morris included. Arc had sent Volkov and Chung out to provide overwatch on the warehouse, just to make sure there was no suspicious activity or movement of any goods. It was about a 15 minute drive from the ice cream shop and maybe 30 from the nightclub. They hadn't done any strikes near the warehouse so Arc was comfortable with splitting his men 30/70 in between the parlor and the nightclub respectively. More high profile missions and violent encounters had occurred near the nightclub leading Jaune to station more of his men near the nightclub. Morris was not one of them. He loved the action and violence, and initially, there had plenty of that at first. They would do raids practically every other day. Hell, during this time, he got a confirmed kill with his sledgehammer. Some poor guy opened the door he was breaching at the wrong time and got a face full of a sledgehammer. It caved in his skull and left a bloody mess on his hammer, but nonetheless, he found it amusing. However recently, their raids had slowed down to maybe once a week, to maybe once every other week. Smith said it was due to them doing such a good job cleaning up the filth in the city, and he had to reluctantly agree. That didn't stop him from wanting more. Morris looked at the clock on the wall, seeing it said '07:34'. He grumbled and turned to his coworker, who was some random high schooler, and said "Hey, I'm clocking out early". The highschooler looked like she wanted to protest, but slumped and reluctantly agreed. He knew it was because of his large stature, his 6'0 to her 5'3. He wasn't going to complain though, she earned her money all the same, and so did he. It was weird, thinking about it in retrospect. This was an actual business establishment with actual employees, but it also housed a group of highly trained contractors. It was a bit of an oxymoron. He didn't think about it too much, he wasn't paid six figures to think.
Morris went to the back of the parlor where he was met with a steel door with a number pad on it. He pressed a combination on it and heard it unlock. He had to tug on the door before it opened, the door groaning as it swung. Morris stepped in before quickly shutting the door behind him. There he was met with a common room with a sofa, reclining chairs, a table, and a fridge. Gonzales was sitting on the sofa napping and Arc was sitting on the chair reading a book. Tobias was at the table in the corner working on something, bottles of thermite scattered everywhere.
Jaune looked up from his book "You have 30 minutes left on your shift, no?".
"Bah, I do" Morris began taking off his uniform and hanging it on the clothes hanger next to the door. "I left the shop to the lassie. She can handle it".
Jaune raised his eyebrow "And what do you have planned tonight where that poor girl gets to be left alone?".
"I'm gonna go for a bike ride, maybe stop at a pub" Morris replied, making his way towards a separate room. It was their quarters, and it could fit 8 people in it. It had bunk beds on both sides of the rooms with two foot lockers at the end of each meant for storing gear. "I know I need it".
As he entered the room, he could hear Jaune sigh. "Alright. Just don't get too drunk".
"Aye LT," Morris said, walking towards his locker. "Just for you, I'll be the soberest Scott you've ever met".
"I wasn't aware scotts could be sober" Tobias jested, his focus still on his project on his table. Morris chuckled and stopped at his footlocker.
He opened his locker and reached in rummaging around for a bit. He pulled out a helmet with a wolf design on it, all the accents in gold and wolf teeth at the bottom lip of the helmet. The helmet said 'Fenrir' on the back. He fished around and pulled out his black shadow company hoodie. It had been his own personal hoodie so it had a unique design. It had the shadow company logo, a spade with a rook inside it, on his right arm just under the flag of his hometown. He reached further into his locker and pulled out his black riding jeans, his grey shoes, and black riding gloves. After a little more searching, he found his motorcycle key and made his way out of the room. He tried to look at what Tobias was working on, and it involved shotgun shells.
"Whatcha workin on laddie?" Morris asked.
Tobias didn't even turn around to look at him. "That's a secret, mein freund".
Morris simply shrugged. The little gremlin liked to keep his secrets, who was he to butt in? "Alright, I'm heading out".
"Drive safe" Arc replied "And don't die".
Morris chuckled. "I'll be lucky if I die". With that he made his way to the exit. He opened the door and it led him to the alleyway behind the parlor. There he was met with the 3 black Suburbans they arrived in, all tucked away. Right behind them was his bike, a black Indian scout bobber. Morris smiled as he put on his helmet. He inserted his key and turned the bike on, the motorcycle roaring to life. He chucked, kicking up the kickstand and driving off and out of the alleyway and towards the bar.
Yang was weaving in and out of the busy highway of Vale. She was going at dangerous speeds, nearly up to 150 miles per hour, her motorcycle Bumblebee roaring. Her hair was free flowing with the wind behind her and she felt the rush of wind against her exposed skin. As she sped by a truck, she noticed open road in front of her. She grinned, giving more throttle to Bumblebee. The motorcycle road as it accelerated, Yang now reaching nearly 180 miles per hour. She loved the adrenaline of the speed, the freedom of the bike her feel more alive. As she was laughing in excitement, she noticed something in her mirror. Lights and sirens. Yang sighed, her fun was over for now. She turned into the right lane and entered downtown Vale, in hopes of shaking her newfound friend. She made random turns at intersections, trying to create as much confusion as possible. After a few minutes of driving in downtown Vale, she decided she needed a place to lie low, at least until the sirens disappeared. She looked around until found a bar with an alleyway next to it, a motorcycle already parked there. She smirked. Not many people in Vale drove motorcycles. If she played her cards right, she could end up with a bunch of free drinks under the guise of being a new rider or being interested.
She drove her bumblebee into the alleyway and parked in front of the other bike, hiding the fact that her bike didn't have any license plates on. She got off her bike and walked to the other motorcycle and examined it. She had to admit, it was a beautiful looking motorcycle. It wasn't aggressive looking like Yang's sports bike, but it didn't look as laid back as a chopper. It looked like a nice middle ground that Yang liked.
Yang put her helmet behind her motorcycle and walked into the bar, looking for the owner of the other bike. It didn't take her long as soon she found a tall buff man wearing all black standing at the bar with a helmet at his feet.
As she walked over and heard him order a whiskey. She approached the bar and stood next to the man, pushing out her chest. "And add a strawberry sunrise on the rocks please".
The man turned his head in her direction but she couldn't see his face behind the brim of his black hat. His face remained unmoving for a bit before he replied. "Sorry lassie. I don't have that kind of money". His accent was foreign to Vale, and Yang can't say she heard it too many times. He turned back to the bartender and waved his hand as if to cancel her order.
"That motorcycle out there says otherwise" She countered, still unable to see his face. "That's a damn good looking bike, and those kinds of things don't come cheap".
"And who says I ride motorcycles?" That man turned his attention to Yang allowing her to get a view of his face. He had a strong jawline and brown eyes, a little stubble growing on his face.
Yang pointed at the helmet near his fit. "That helmet does".
The man chuckled "Aye. I guess that would give it away wouldn't it. What's it matter to you?".
"I ride too" Yang replied. "I got myself a STB-600". The man was obviously impressed judging by his facing expression.
"That's a damn fast crotch rocket you got there lassie" The man chuckled. "How long you been ridin?"
"I'll answer that question once you buy me a drink" Yang smirked. She had him hook, line, and sinker.
The man pursed his lips, giving a long pause. "Alright lassie, you have my curiosity. I'll bite" The man waved down the bartender. "Bartender, get the lady a Kentucky bourbon".
Yang raised one of her eyebrows "Do I look like a bourbon gal to you mister?"
The man laughed and tilted his head back. "You sure as hell act like one. 'Sides, you look like you can handle your alcohol. Unless you can't. No shame in that lass".
Yang wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "Oh, I can handle my alcohol alright".
The bartender handed them their drink and the man took a sip of his whiskey. "So, what's your name?".
"Yang" she answered. "Yang Xiao Long. And you?"
"You can call me Clyde" The man answered.
Over the next hour, the two kept sipping on their drinks and talking. Their conversations jumped from topic to topic, from their hobby of motorcycles to their love of brawling. Yang had to admit, Clyde was a funny guy and his humor was very dry and sarcastic. He would constantly tell her stories that would have a twist of sorts, like the one time he got into a bar fight with a guy half his size. Apparently, the smaller guy had picked Clyde up and thrown him across the bar. Clyde says he doesn't go to that bar anymore out of pure embarrassment, a sentiment that Yang could share. As the alcohol kept flowing, the conversation kept getting wilder. While none of them were wasted, they were clearly a little tipsy. Yang can't lie, it's been a while since she talked to someone this similar to her. The conversations weren't one sided, it wasn't the guy speaking to her or Yang trying to pry the guy for information. She told him some of her stories at becon, like how she managed to beat team CRDL in a 1v4. The guy wasn't hard on the eyes either. Yang began telling him about the story of how she trashed a nightclub in the city when his scroll went off.
"Hold on lass" The man looked at his scroll. "I've got to take this. Привет?".
While he was on the scroll, Yang quickly reached over and stole a sip of his drink. Clyde was not amused and made a face that was between annoyance and disgust, one that Yang found funny. She took a while and stared at him as he was on the scroll, noting his strong facial features. She also did appreciate his fashion. His hoodie was very stylish in her opinion. On his right arm she saw a flag that apparently was his hometown, a small trading town outside of Vale. Below that was a logo of sorts. He said he got the hoodie while thrifting saying how the design caught his eye. She had to admit, it did look clean. As she looked at it longer, Yang couldn't help but feel like she saw that logo somewhere before. Before she could look any deeper, she realized she was staring as Clyde turned to face her. She looked away in embarrassment.
"Дерьмо. Когда я тебе понадоблюсь?" Clyde's face turned serious. Not that she knew what was happening. She couldn't understand a word that he was saying. "Хорошо. я уже в пути". With that, he hung up the scroll.
"What's going on?" Yang asked.
"Work called me back" Clyde downed the remaining of his whiskey and started to gather his belongings. "Apparently it's urgent and they need me now". Once he collected all of his belongings, Clyde made his way to the exit. "Yang, it was wonderful talking to you lassie. You're one hell of a spitfire. I'll see you around".
Yan's cheeks grew pink. She hadn't been called that before and it caught her by surprise. Clyde was super easy to talk to and handsome on top of being funny. Maybe it was the alcohol influencing her mind, but she made a move she never made before, asking a guy for his number.
"Clyde" She called, immediately cringing when he turned around. He was looking right at her causing her anxiety to spike. Yang felt like she had a frog in her throat and got nervous. Wait, Yang Xiao Long doesn't get nervous! He's lucky he even got this far! But for some reason, she just had a hard time saying the words. After a pregnant pause, Yang mustered up the courage to ask "C-can we exchange scroll numbers? Um, you seem like a cool guy and I'd like to ride with you sometime. Whenever you're free that is".
Yang really hoped she said that correctly because Clyde paused and stared at her. After a moment, a smile grew on his face. "Sure lassie".
Clyde walked over to the bar and grabbed a napkin and pin, scribbling down his number, and then slinding it to Yang. "Text me when you can, ya little spitfire". With that, he left.
Yang couldn't explain how she felt. A wave of satisfaction and joy crashed over her along with giddiness as she stared at the napkin. She immediately opened her scroll and put in his number. She giggled once she put in his contact. Seeing no reason to stick around, Yang got up to leave too only for her to be stopped by the bartender.
"Excuse me ma'am" The bartender caught her attention. "You need to pay the tab".
"What?" Yang questioned. "I thought Clyde paid for it".
"Well, the mister just left out that door" The bartender motioned toward the exit. "So that means you have to pay seeing as you were his drinking buddy".
Yang paused, her face forming a scowl. That asshole left her with the tab!
Jaune would say he was in a good mood. So far, Operation Overlord was a success. Right now, they had another possible depot of arms and explosives located in a warehouse thanks to Roman. Jaune had a rough sketch of an idea in his head on how to raid this warehouse. He had Chung and Volkov give him the basics of what the warehouse looked like from the outside. According to them, the warehouse was a large open parking lot with little cover. The warehouse itself was assumed to be a two story as there were external stairs that lead to a second floor as well as windows that allowed Volkov to look through. He reported that there was at least a catwalk above the main floor. They reported at least five different guards at all times.
With his information, Jaune started to form a plan. He wanted to get as close to the warehouse as possible, and in the best case scenario, stack up on the second floor door. However, if things went loud, he would get either Ekon or Oso and a few others to form a base of fire near the outside of the parking lot allowing for the rest of the platoon to move forward and get internal. Right now, his plans were a real rough draft and he would never commit to a raid with what little information he had, but it didn't hurt to start to formulate one. As of right now, he was waiting for a blueprint from the city to allow him to look at the building's setup and make a better plan there.
Jaune sat comfortably in a reclining chair reading a book called 'Ninja's of Love'. It was pure smut and porn, but there was some plot behind it that Jaune could get behind. It had been recommended by one of his sisters before he left for Shadow Company. His sister… huh. Jaune wondered how his family was doing. He won't lie, he hasn't really tried to contact any of them for a while. He did miss his family, well only a little bit. He still hated, well hated was a strong word, disliked was better. He disliked his family for viewing him as fine china to keep in their house and protect at all times. They wanted him to be a doctor in an office. After being with Ronin for 2 years, he could never see him in an office like that. On top of that, he managed to get medical training anyways making him a medic of sorts. Of course, the entire team knew basic first aid, but Jaune knew how to patch people up. Of course, due to a shortage of people with a lack of aura that made it through selection, Jaune couldn't be a dedicated medic, but instead a platoon leader. He was fine with it seeing as so far, he hasn't run into a situation where those skills were needed. Heh, he showed his family.
Static from the radio to his left snapped Jaune out of his thoughts; someone was trying to reach him. The radio suddenly buzzed to life.
"Archangel, this is Rat" The radio spoke in Russian. "I'm seeing one unknown armed female approaching objective foxtrot. I repeat, one armed female approaching objective foxtrot".
Jaune snatched his radio and put the microphone to his mouth. "Rat, does she appear to be in association with the whiskey foxtrot?"
"Negative Archangel" Volkov replied. "She appears to be conducting recon on the area. Vigil, do you have eyes on the unknown".
"Negative" Chung replied. "She is not in my sector".
"Rat, give me a description" Jaune ordered.
"Young female appears to me of military age. Black and white clothing, bow on top of her head. Weidling a sword" Volkov replied immediately.
"Have any of you been compromised" Jaune's voice beamed in concern.
"Negative" they both replied.
Jaune sighed in relief. "Alright, just keep an eye-"
"Archangel, unknown has gone internal in objective foxtrot. I repeat she went internal. Shots fired" Volkov reported.
"Do any of you have eyes on her?" Jaune had practically jumped out of his chair, waking Gonzales up and catching the attention of Tobias.
"Affirmative" Chung replied. "She appears to be fighting whiskey foxtrot".
Jaune faced grimaced as he clenched his fist. As Jaune went to speak on the radio, another message come over. "Check, check. Unknown female has been captured. Whiskey Foxtrot is transporting her out of my view and is moving boxes into trucks for transportation".
Jaune wanted to scream right now. He wanted to throw the radio across the room just to let out the indescribable rage he was feeling. He managed to calm himself just enough to get back on the radio. "Rat, inform the 404 and get them to keep the VPD away from objective foxtrot. Keep me posted".
With that, he put down the radio and looked around. Most of his men were a good 30 minutes away and if the white fang were already moving equipment, they would be gone before the rest of the platoon could show up. He looked around. Right now, it was just him, Tobias, Gonzales, and possibly Morris if he could get a hold of him. Chung and Volkov were already at the objective but he couldn't risk them leaving their vantage point right now. He turned to Gonzales and Tobias, both already looking at him. Jaune groaned in anger. "Gear up. Now".
Both of them scurried off into the quarters to get their equipment on as fast as they could. Jaune pulled out his scroll and dialed Morris' number. Jaune sat in tension, hoping Morris wasn't wasted as the scroll rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. The ringing stopped and relieved Jaune a small bit.
"Hello?" Jaune heard Morris say in Russian. There was a lot of background noise so Jaune assumed that he was at the bar that was mentioned before.
"Morris, I need you" Jaune wasted no time. "Situation has changed and we're raiding the place right soon"
"Shit. When do you need me back?" Morris asked over the scroll.
"I need you back now" Jaune answered. "I hope you're not wasted. I'll explain the situation when you get back.
"Okay. I'm on my way." With that, Morris hung up the scroll. Jaune wanted to be angry, to be pissed at the situation. The world had a way of messing with him. First, it was his family, now this? Jaune's frustrations grew. He didn't have a lot of time before either the White Fang left or VPD got on the scene making it impossible to do their jobs. Technically, they weren't even supposed to be in Vale legally, but that was another mess Jaune didn't want to think about right now. Jaune stopped and took a deep breath. Getting angry right now would not help him. It would just make him irrational and lead to bad decisions being made. Once his mind settled, Jaune walked into the quarters where Gonzales and Tobias were already mostly geared up, both wearing the all black Shadow Company uniform as well as the tan plate carrier. Tobias was just checking the holographic sight on his G3A3 and messing with his vertical grip whereas Gonzales was putting shotgun shells on his belt for his breaching shotgun.
While Gonzales was putting shells into their place, Tobias stopped him. "Hold on" Tobias set down his weapon. "I have something I want you to try out". Tobias scurried out of the room and into the common area, leaving both Jaune and Alejandro looking at each other. When he returned, he carried a small box full of shotgun shells.
"I want you to try these" he gave the box to Gonzales. "They're thermite shells. It should save you from having to use a thermite charge to breach a door. Instead, you can just shoot the hinges with this. Should cut right through most steel".
Gonzales raised an eyebrow. "Is that how thermite works? And have you tested these?".
"Yeah, that's how thermite works" Tobias smirked. "And no, that's what today is for". Tobias grinned wider, creeping Gonzales out.
Gonzales paused for awhile before sighing. "You lucky I'm feeling generous, cabrón. Work on that smile. You look like you eat children like El Cuco".
"Wunderbar!" Tobias exclaimed. "This will be a huge leap forward for my research!".
Gonzales looked at him skeptically as he loaded his M1014 with the 'experimental' rounds. He turned towards Jaune and whispered in a hush tone "Didn't this fool go to prison for arson?".
Jaune simply shrugged as he put his plate carrier over his combat top. It wasn't long before all of them were geared up, all having their weapons and equipment ready. Jaune kept his helmet off as he walked to the common area to fetch the keys. As he grabbed the keys, the rear door to the parlor opened, and Morris walked in.
"Perfect timing," Jaune remarked as he grabbed the keys to one of the Suburbans outside. "And you look relatively sober".
"I'm always sober" Morris shot back, jogging over to the quarters and stopped at his locker. "Besides, made some poor girl pay for my drinks." Jaune chuckled at that. "So, what's the situation?" Morris asked.
Jaune tossed the keys to Gonzales and told him to get the Suburban ready. "About 5 minutes ago, Volkov and Chung spotted some unknown armed female walking into the warehouse we were investigating and tried to seize it. Kicked up a real storm".
"Oh, I bet," he remarked as he put on his plate carrier over his hoodie. Morris didn't have the luxury of time so he didn't get to wear his combat top, pants, or boots. Instead, he would have to work with what he was wearing. "Any word on what happened to her?"
"Chung spotted her getting captured and moved further into the warehouse" Jaune answered, slinging his HK416 over his shoulder. "White Fang started to move their equipment too. They're on high alert and are trying to change locations and fast".
"I imagine you ain't too happy about it, ain'tcha?" Morris chuckled as he strapped on a handgun holster to his leg, inserting his P226.
"Can't say that I am" Jaune chuckled in response. Morris sure knew how to lighten to mood. "Anyways, as of right now, the only people that can go internal are you, me, Tobias, and Gonzales. I can't risk taking Chung and Volkov off their post and possibly letting someone catch us by surprise".
Morris sighed as he strapped his breaching sledgehammer to his back. "Sounds like a real shitstorm she kicked up".
"Yeah," Jaune's voice raised an octave, signifying his anger. "A real fucking big one". It was rare for Jaune to cuss like that. He did it so few and far between, the few times he did use foul language, he meant it. Tobias and Morris caught on to how much this pissed off Jaune.
Jaune sighed "Sorry. That was wrong of me. Excuse my French. When you two are ready, I'll be in the car". With that, Jaune picked up his helmet and walked out of the room. Tobias and Morris looked at each other before returning back to their tasks. Both of them were doing their best to get ready for the upcoming raid. Jaune didn't say it, but it was implied. This was a high risk raid, and they didn't have the safety of numbers. Someone could die.
Archangel had his back to a wall as he peeked around a corner. He had his eyes on the warehouse and scanned for any movement. His eyes landed on an outside door that led to the first floor. It was closed and offered them their way in. The door was in the far corner of the warehouse allowing them to have to clear less space. After scanning one more time, he returned back behind the wall. With him was the rest of his team; Bratwurst, Scott, and Cowboy. Archangel got on his radio attached to his chest rig and pressed against the microphone. "Rat, give me a sitrep".
"So far there has been no visual movement inside or outside the warehouse. No shots have been fired since first reported, VPD has been diverted to a location 25 minutes in the opposite direction". Rat reported over the radio.
"Good copy" Archangel responded. Archangel trusted this information. While he couldn't see any of his scouts, he knew they could see him. They were off on some small angle he couldn't see that had full visibility of the compound, providing overwatch the entire time. Archangel trusted his men to do their jobs, and they trusted him to do his.
Archangel made a hand signal for his men to follow him. Once they all echoed back his hand signal, he peeled from behind the wall and started to move towards the door. Each and every one of them kept their guns up, all pointed at possible locations where the White Fang could pop out. Once they made it to the metal door, Archangel motioned them to stack up. After they all were stacked up, he motioned for a hard breach.
Archangel kept his HK416 leveled at the door, providing security as Cowboy slowly moved behind him. Once Cowboy got to the door, he put his hands on the door handle and gently pulled at the lever, confirming that it was locked. Cowboy motioned for a flashbang, Archangel echoing it back. Scott, who was behind Archangel in the stack shuffled just past him and pointed his L85A2 at the door, taking over security. Once security of the door was established, Archangel lowered his HK416 and pulled a flashbang from his rig.
It was now on Cowboy to start the breach. Silence, violence, silence. They were in the initial silence. Once he fired his breaching shotgun, there was no going back. It would be all out chaos. Cowboy inhaled, preparing himself. He pulled the bolt back on his M1014, the new experimental thermite round loaded in. He then pushed his thumb against the loading tube and was met with resistance. He was fully loaded. Cowboy took the final steps and turned the safety off his breaching shotgun and pressed the barrel slightly above the handle, where the lock would be located.
The door swung open, but no shot had been fired. "Yeah, yeah whatever Clevis. There's nothing out here ya dumb nut. Aint nothing opening the door". A white fang member in full uniform had swung the door inward, most likely in response to Cowboy checking to see if it was locked. However, he was looking back inside and was yet to notice the three men at the door. When he did notice, he fell silent. He didn't have a weapon in his hands, but he did have a handgun at his hip.
In an instant, his hand dropped to the firearm at his waist. Wasting no time, Cowboy raised his shotgun and pulled the trigger. The White Fang member was sent flying across the room following the loud boom, his chest now had a gaping hole where his intestines were falling out, his body now on fire. He was dead before he even hit the wall.
This had gone to shit. Cowboy was the first to flow in. He flew in right, spotting another White Fang member reaching for a gun. He did not hesitate and pulled the trigger again, this time their head burst like a watermelon sending blood and brainmatter onto the wall yellow cargo shipping container nearby. His thermite rounds threw fire as if it were a Roman candlestick, its presence dominating his sector of fire.
Scott was the second to flow in, going in the opposite direction and went straight. He spotted the body of the poor soul who had opened the door, his flesh now burning. Beside the body another White Fang member presented themselves with a machete and started to charge Scott. Scott sent two bullet to their chest, shattering their aura, and one more to the head. Their body slumped and folded on themselves, on muscles relaxing. Just for good measure, Scott sent more to the head and then moved on.
Archangel was the third to move in. He dropped his flashbang without pulling the pin and made a silent curse. Scott had moved in straight meaning he would have to move in left. Upon entering, Jaune spotted a White Fang with a rifle in his hands, the barrel pointed at Cowboy. Archangel squeezed off four rounds from his HK416, the first two shattering his aura, the next two entering his chest and sending him stumbling back. Archangel could hear him breathing hoarsely, his breathing now ragged, and sounds of pain had left his lips. His chest raised unevenly, a clear wound to his lungs. Archangel fired one more shot that was sent to his chest again, silencing him.
Bratwurst was the last to enter and had flown in straight, right after Archangel entered right. He turned his attention inward and towards the center of the warehouse. There he noticed one large shipping container along with wooden crates that were strung all across the perimeter of the warehouse. Right in the middle of his sector of fire was a White Fang member with what he assumed to be a rope dart, and they had chosen him to be their opponent. They must've had some huntsman training as they did a flip into a back handspring, launching themselves ten feet into the air, spinning their rope dart all around them. Bratwurst raised his eyebrow and raised his G3A3 to meet them, squeezing off three rounds. The first round of his 7.62×51mm had shattered their aura, the second and third had hit their torso and neck respectively. They stopped their spinning movement upon the impact of the third bullet, the body now falling at breakneck speeds toward the ground. The body slammed against the ground head first violently, sending blood everywhere and made a loud CRACK noise. It sounded like their neck breaking. Just for good measure, Bratwurst sent one more into the body.
All their attention was diverted upon hearing Cowboy yell "CATWALK!". In an instant, all eyes were on the catwalk. There were three more members of White Fang on the catwalk. The one on the right sided catwalk was wielding a shotgun, the other two were right above Cowboy. They wielded what seemed to be a crude submachine gun and a large hammer. The one welding the hammer was easily 6'5 and over 250lbs of muscle. Archangel raised his HK416 and sent two shots toward the enemy on the right sided catwalk. The first shot had hit their shoulder causing them to drop the shotgun entirely. The second one went straight through the left side of their chest, their body stiffening. They took a few steps trying to comprehend what just happened before falling over the ledge of the catwalk and landing facefirst onto the hard floor.
Scott pointed his L85A2 at the white fang wielding the crude submachine gun and fired off a burst. The white fang had managed to get a shot off, but was inaccurate and missed Bratwurst by a small margin, almost clipping his shoulder. Most shots found their make, landing in the center of their chest. The white fang member stumbled backward and into the wall, his blood now covering it. He looked down to see gaping holes now riddling his chest. He could feel some of the bullets still lodged in his chest as he slowly fell down against the wall, his hands clutching his chest trying to save blood. Eventually, his hands fell to his side and his body went limp.
The last White Fang member wielding a large two-handed hammer was gunning for Cowboy. While his comrade to his right was filled with bullets, he jumped down and aimed to land on Cowboy, trying to crush him under his weight. Bratwurst couldn't fire at the final white fang member as Cowboy was in the crossfire, so he held his fire. His fear was spiking as the world went in slow motion. The hulking White Fang member was on his way down from the second story, swinging the two-handed hammer on his way down. It was aimed right at Cowboy's head, the hammer already halfway on it's journey. How old was Gonzales, 19? He was just barely an adult, hell, he was a kid in his books, but he was the closest thing Tobias felt to a friend. Most of his life was spent inside a jail cell and Gonzales was the first person to treat him nicely in basic. They've been friends for as long as Tobias knew he had friends. Sure they had their arguments, but what friends didn't? They had worked together to develop the thermite charges he uses to breach harder walls, his first creation that he was proud of. It was kind of ironic. He was the first friend he made that helped turn his life around and yet he couldn't help at all. Tobias could only watch.
BLAM! The sound of a shotgun going off and the screams of agony snapped Bratwurst back into reality. His eyes darted over to Cowboy's location, his mind piercing together what had happened. When the White Fang member had jumped, Cowboy had managed to side step just out of the range of the hammer and just barely brought up his shotgun fast enough to get a shot off. He shot his thermite packed buckshot into the massive White Fang member's legs, completely tearing off one leg and mauling the other, the thermite burning the flesh on his legs. He screamed in agony as he gripped his flesh that was peeling off, his hammer was now thrown to the side.
"Please!" the white fang member screamed. "I beg you! I have kids at ho-"
BLAM! Cowboy had sent one more to his head, ending his pleading and screaming. His head was turned to paste on the floor behind him.
"You good?" Archangel asked. All eyes were on Cowboy who stood over the corpse of the burning White Fang member. Cowboy simply responded with a thumbs up.
A shot rang out catching all of their attention. Their heads snapped to the location of the shot, finding a White Fang member on the right side catwalk with a golfball-sized hole in his chest holding a rifle. The window behind him had been shattered, a clear sign of a bullet flying through it. He stumbled, taking a few steps forward before collapsing on the catwalk. Over the radio, they all heard Vigil. "You owe me a beer".
Archangel smirked and waved in the general direction of the shot, "Alright, rally on me". His team closed in on Archangel's position as he moved forward, clearing the rest of the room. Archangel spotted another room in the back right corner of the warehouse, an office of sorts. Its door had been opened. "Open door" Archangel called. "Stack on the door!".
His team had stacked the door, Scott being the first in line with Bratwurst right behind him. Archangel was last and Cowboy was in the middle of the stack. Archangel patted Cowboy on his shoulder with his left hand, signifying he was ready. This was echoed until it reached Scott. Scott nodded and began pieing the door, taking small steps and slowly clearing what he could from the door. That's when Scott noticed it. There was a girl hogtied on the floor in the middle of the room, her mouth gagged but her face was still visible.
"Hostage" Scott called out. Scott kept eyeing her, she was trying to motion something to him, but he couldn't guess what. Her eyes kept going left. As Scott tracked where her eyes were going, a shot rang out, nailing him in his helmet. His body went limp as he fell, his mind registering what had happened. Then it came to him, he had been shot. When he hit the floor, he skimpered to the right, getting out of the doorway. Bratwurst had seen this and reacted quickly. He pulled a flashbang off his vest and threw it deep into the room. The loud bang and the shaking of the walls signifying it went off. Bratwurst left flown into the room, stepping over the hostage. That's where he spotted him, a White Fang member clutching his head behind the office desk. Bratwurst squeezed the trigger three times, the three bullets finding their target. They impacted his chest, the first bullet shattering his aura, the last two going through his body, leaving it looking like Swiss cheese. The slumped against the wall behind him, dragging a trail of blood as his body collapsed.
"Clear left!" Bratwurst called out.
"Clear right!" He heard Archangel call out. Once the room was secured, Archangel ran out of the room and checked on Scott.
Good news, he was breathing. "Scott, you okay? You good?". Archangel's hands went everywhere searching for a gunshot wound or any blood, just a sign of where the damage is.
"My head hurts" Scott replied dryly. "Though that might be the three whiskeys I had".
Archangel chucked, grabbing Scott by the head and turning it to the side to examine his helmet. Sure enough, there was a grazing impact on his helmet. "Well, your bell's rung that's for sure. On the bright side, you get to keep drinking that vile you call alcohol". Archangel offered an arm to help Scott up. Scott grabbed it and pulled himself up.
"Don't go dissing whiskey like that" Scott shook his head. "That's a real man's drink".
"I'll take your word for it" Archangel chuckled. He turned his head toward the room. "He's good, just a graze".
Cowboy and Bratwurst both sighed in relief. Cowboy came up to the hostage and examined her. She had been beaten up pretty badly. She had bruise marks everywhere, a swollen black eye, and a lot of slash wounds on her. "Archangel, what should we do with her?".
Archangel entered the room and looked at the hostage. She fit the description that was given to him. Anger and rage filled his body the longer he looked at her. This was the person that almost jeopardized this whole raid. She had been the reason Cowboy and Scott almost had died. She had been the reason… Archangel tried his damn best not to reach into his sidearm holster and put one in her skull. He stopped and took a deep breath.
"Keep her here. We can interrogate her later" he tried to not let his rage be shown in his voice, failing to do so. "We need to fan out and collect what's in this warehouse. Bratwurst, keep your gun on her. Everyone else, spread out. We don't have much time" Archangel checked his watch. This whole raid took about 10 minutes. That means that had 15 minutes to load and destroy everything in here. This meant he would probably have to load it into the Suburban. Lucky for them, there wasn't a whole lot in the warehouse. "We have 10 minutes to collect as much ordnance as we can and destroy it before the VPD get here. Let's go".
Cowboy, Archangel, and Scott exited the room and began to search the warehouse for anything of interest. So far, it wasn't anything of interest. Mostly it was a few mortars, hand grenades, and the occasional RPG warhead. So far it hasn't been anything out of the ordinary. Hell if anything, it was a little lacking. That's probably why there weren't a whole lot of guards here. Archangel counted the bodies and it totaled to nine. Archangel sighed. They had gotten really lucky today.
"Archangel!" Archangel heard Cowboy call out from inside the large yellow cargo shipping container. "You might want to come in here and look at this!".
Archangel raised his eyebrow but reluctantly walked over. "What's wrong Cowboy?" he asked as he entered. Cowboy was standing over a single cracked crate inside the large shipping container. Huh, that's weird. Why waste a large shipping container only to store one box? As he walked closer, his eyes widened.
Inside the crate were two Atlas nuclear warheads.
They were long, white cone-shaped warheads that were about 10 feet long each, the words ATLAS has written on the side of it with the nuclear symbol next to it. The crate itself was wooden with straws and hay to keep the warheads from touching the crate. There was a lot of room for the two war heads where they wouldn't touch each other.
Archangel changed the frequency of his radio from his squad level and went straight to headquarters. "Mothership this is Phantom 1-6, I have eyes on two possible Atlas nuclear warheads. I repeat, two Atlas nuclear warheads. Break".
There was a long pause over the radio before Archangel got a response, a feminine voice coming over the radio. "Phantom 1-6 this is Mothership, can you confirm that they are Atlas nuclear warheads?".
By this time, Scott had entered the container and was looking at the warheads as well. "Looks like a warhead to me boss. Pointy too. Makes it look real scary".
Archangel gave Scott an odd look before pressing his radio again. "Mothership, I can confirm that I am looking at two nuclear warheads inside of a shipping container, over".
There was an even longer pause this time before headquarters got back to him. "Copy Phantom 1-6. Is there a serial number you can read?".
Archangel looked at Cowboy and Scott, both of them shrugged. They got out of the way as Archangel looked inside the wooden crate, spotting a white tag with a serial number on it. "Affirmative Mothership, there is a serial number I can read".
This time, the radio operator got back to him immediately. "Read it out to me Phantom 1-6".
Archangel positioned himself in a way where he could easily read the serial number on the inside of the wooden crate. "It is, Zulu, Alpha, Mike, November, Fife, Niner, Wun, Too, Fower, Niner, Too, Tree, break. Repeating, it is, Zulu, Alpha, Mike, November, Fife, Niner, Wun, Too, Fower, Niner, Too, Tree".
The radio operator came back immediately "Zulu, Alpha, Mike, November, Fife, Niner, Wun, Too, Fower, Niner, Too, Tree, affirmative?"
"Affirmative" Archangel answered back.
"Good copy, standby". The radio operator replied. The radio operator took a long pause before coming back to Archangel. "Phantom 1-6, did you say two Atlas nuclear warheads?".
"Affirmative" Archangel answered back. "Two Atlas nuclear warheads".
"Atlas inventory says that there's supposed to be three in that crate" the radio operator informed. "Are you sure there are not three warheads present?".
Archangel turned back to his team. Before he even asked the question, Scott spoke up. "No way it's in here. I've turned this entire place upside down. It's not in here".
Archangel had his body turned towards Scott. "Are you sure?"
"Aye," he answered back. "Positive".
Archangel thumbed his radio again. "Mothership, I am positive I only have eyes on two Atlas nuclear warheads".
There was a long momentary pause before she spoke up again. "Copy that Phantom 1-6. Good find, that's gonna be a nice bonus to your platoon's paycheck. Take those warheads back to base and we'll pick it up soon. They should be deactivated right now".
Archangel chuckled. "What are we going to do with the warheads, Mothership?"
The radio operator scoffed over the comms "Probably sell them back to Atlas at an exorbitant price for us cleaning up their mess".
"Good copy mothership" Archangel laughed. "Good to see we're fighting the good fight". Sarcasm was dripping from his voice.
"Always Phantom 1-6" The radio operator replied. "Over and out".
Archangel checked the watch on his wrist. 10 minutes had passed. They had about five minutes to pack up and leave. "Cowboy and Scott, transport our trophy here to the car and get ready for extraction. You can leave everything else for the VPD. I'm going to be going with Bratwurst to secure the prisoner".
They both nodded silently as Cowboy jogged to go get the car and Scott started to secure the warheads. Archangel made his way toward the office. Upon entering, he found the hostage now had a makeshift blindfold on and Bratwurst was still pointing his gun at her. "Bratwurst, pick up and follow me. Plans have changed".
"Are we keeping her?" Bratwurst motioned to the hostage.
"Yeah, of course," Archangel answered back as if it were obvious. "She caused me this much headache, I'm at least going to understand what she knows"
Bratwurst simply shrugged before lowering his gun. He put his arm under her armpit and lifted her up. In the best English he could produce, he told the prisoner "Get up we're moving". Surprisingly, she had been cooperative. As the two walked outside they saw Cowboy in the driver seat of the Suburban and Scott in the passenger, with the warheads presumably stored. As they were walking toward the car, Archangel spotted a crow flying into an alleyway nearby. Crows don't usually live around downtown Vale though…
He didn't think much of it. As he was loading getting ready to load the prisoner, from the alley he heard "Rock". That was the word that their contacts use to identify themselves. Archangel quickly responded "Metal". From the alleyway, a middle aged man emerged, a large sword on his back.
"Who are you?" Archangel questioned, both hands now on his HK416. Bratwurst had now dropped the prisoner and both Cowboy and Scott had exited the car, all had guns pointed at him. If he had to guess, Vigil and Rat probably had their scopes on him too.
"I work with Ozpin". The man said, pulling a flask out of his breast pocket and taking a swig. "You have something he wants".
"What would that be" Archangel had flicked his firearm off safety by now, an audible click being heard.
The man clearly caught on that they weren't taking any chances and decided to be straight forward. "The girl. Shes a student under his supervision".
Archangel grabbed his P226 from its holster and pointed it at the girl's head on the floor. "This one?"
From hearing the gun movement, she started to squirm and plead.
The man slowly put his hands up and nodded.
"That won't be happening" Archangel answered. "It's because of her some of my men almost died and this whole operation became a bust. I'm going to interrogate her for what she knows, then we'll decide from there. Or, I'll just kill her and make it look like an accident, save me the trouble". The girl was practically screaming into her gag now.
"Wait, wait, wait" The man pleaded. "Let's not take any drastic measures just yet. We can talk about this".
"You know what talks?" Archangel asked rhetorically. "Money. You pay us, I don't know, 10,000 dollars right now and she's yours. Now that's a deal considering we just saved her life. Don't try anything funny either. I've got snipers looking at you".
The man paused for a bit, hesitating. He was clearly looking for an opening to save her, so Archangel made sure he didn't. He crouched down and put the barrel of his P226 to the girl's temple, the man immediately folded, pulling out his scroll and dialing a number. "Alright, alright. I'll get Ozpin to wire you the money. Just let her go".
Archangel smiled behind his balaclava. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement". With that, Archangel got his knife out, the girl squirming in terror. He managed to hold her down while he worked at her binds. First, her legs came free, then her wrists came free. Once she was free, she practically sprinted over to the man. Archangel checked his scroll and confirmed that he had received the 10,000 dollars. "Pleasure doing business".
The man obviously didn't share the sentiment as he turned his back and escorted the girl away. Archangel chuckled. Over the radio, he told his two snipers to return to base.
"Hey Archangel," Cowboy asked. "Were you actually going to kill her?"
"What" Archangel looked offended. "No! I just wanted to squeeze them for more money. She made the White Fang more alert so I felt like we deserved some sort of compensation. I was gonna let her go last minute!"
"Oh, thank god" Cowboy sighed in relief, entering the driver seat of the Suburban. "That would've been awful".
"I'm not a monster Cowboy" Archangel replied as he entered the Suburban. "I just like money".
Scott and Bratwurst snorted. "Whatever you say LT" Scott poked.
Shadow Company Phantom Task Force files
Access: [redacted]
Commander: [redacted]
Base of Operations: [redacted]
Notes: Any ranks below officer ranks are mostly arbitrary. Meant to follow the best fit to lead if all officers are KIA or MIA.
—-
Name: Jaune 'Archangel' Arc
Weight: 255lbs
Height: 6'2
Race: Human
Rank: Lieutenant
Place of Birth:
Age: 20
Weapons/equipment used:
HK416
P226
Combat Knife
Advanced First Aid Kit
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Advanced Medical School
Paramedic School
Leadership and Experience School
Notes: During basic training, Jaune demonstrated leadership skill at a high level under stressful and demanding situations, earning him an officer rank. He was able to unite the candidates on multiple occasions and organized a small mutiny during a long run. He demonstrated a large desire to both be a leader and one of the team's medic due to 'His parents wanting him to be a doctor'.
Name: Alejandro 'Cowboy' Gonzales
Weight: 175lbs
Height: 5'5
Race: Human
Rank: Sergeant
Place of Birth: Texas
Age: 19
Weapons/equipment used:
M1014
M4A1
M17
Basic Hard Breach Kit
Demolition Kit
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Hard Breach and Entering School
Sapper School
Notes: Gonzales has demonstrated a high efficiency in high explosive ordinance. He was highly proficient in recoilless rifles but finds more enjoyment in 'blowing shit up'. Is trained in breaching harder surfaces such as metal or reinforced doors.
Name: Clyde 'Scott' Morris
Weight: 240lbs
Height: 6'0
Race: Human
Rank: Corporal
Place of Birth: Scotland
Age: 23
Weapons/equipment used:
L85A2
P226
Sledgehammer
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Basic Breach and Entering School
Notes: Morris has demonstrated a high level of aggression on multiple occasions. While it has not gotten out of control or clouded his judgment, he has been characterized as 'aggressive' by his peers.
Name: Parker 'Vigil' Chung
Weight: 160lbs
Height: 5'7
Race: Human
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Place of Birth: Korea
Age: 22
Weapons/equipment used:
K14 Bolt Action Rifle
K2
P226
Karambit
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Scout Sniper School
Notes: Chung has excelled in sniper school, scoring above his peers while remaining quiet. During training, he wore a ballistic mask to cover his scarred face, making him unknown to his peers. He has demonstrated team working skill, but remains quiet unless necessary.
Name: Dimitri 'Oso' Petrov
Weight: 390lbs
Height: 6'5
Race: Bear Faunus
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Place of Birth: Siberia
Age: 25
Weapons/equipment used:
PKP Pecheneg
Markarov
Combat Machete
M134 Modified Minigun
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Juggernaut School
Squad Gunner School
Notes: Petrov has demonstrated a high level of strength, higher than most of our other troops. He passed our most physically demanding school yet, Juggernaut school, with ease. It is most likely due to his genetics as a bear Faunus. His strength is nearly unmatched.
Name: Ekon 'Tiger' Abebe
Weight: 340lbs
Height: 6'4
Rank: Sergeant
Race: Human
Place of Birth: Congo
Age: 23
Weapons/equipment used:
M240B
M9
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Juggernaut School
Squad Gunner School
Notes: During Juggernaut School, Abebe passed near the top of his class. However, he did struggle to keep up at times, his will and spirit proven to be unwavering. He had proven to be stronger than any normal human. Tests could not prove why.
Name: Shane 'Wolfeater' Vu
Weight: 200
Height: 5'10
Rank: Sergeant
Race: Dog Faunus
Place of Birth: Menagerie
Age: 24
Weapons/equipment used:
M110 Marksman Rifle
M9
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Scout Sniper Training
Spotter School
Notes: During Sniper school, Vu had proven to be able to do quick calculations of advanced math in his head. While training in the field he was able to quickly measure the wind and calculate accordingly, and align his scope. He was recommended to Spotter school and passed with flying colors. He was able to run far distances due to his heritage.
Name: Vityaz 'Rat' Volkov
Weight: 190lbs
Height: 5'11
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Race: Human
Place of Birth: Georgia
Age: 22
Weapons/equipment used:
Dragunov SVD
PP19 SMG
Markarov
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Scout Sniper Training
Spotter School
Notes: Volkov had proven to be an excellent scout. His endurance was remarkable and he was able to remember pictures and places. He called it his 'Photographic Memory'. He excelled in hand to hand combat, sending him above his peers.
Name: Tobias "Bratwurst" Schneider
Weight: 160lbs
Height: 5'10
Race: Human
Rank: Corporal
Place of Birth: Germany
Age: 21
Weapons/equipment used:
HK G3A3
HK P8
Modified Flamethrower
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Chemical Engineering School
CBRN School
Controlled Burn School
Notes: Schneider was arrested at the age of 19 due to the unlawful mixing of chemicals that led to a house fire. He was given the option of a buyout from the Shandow Company, and proceeded. He has excelled above and beyond his peers and was able to mix many chemicals to produce fire.
Name: Damien "Chapel" Smith
Weight: 190lbs
Height: 5'10
Race: Human
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Place of Birth: Missouri
Age: 25
Weapons/equipment used:
M4A1
M19
Advanced First Aid Kit
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Combat Life Saver
Advanced Medical School
Paramedic School
Notes: During basic training, Smith was characterized by not only his strong faith in his religion but his deep understanding of other religions as well. This allowed him to connect to other troops as well, making him a strong candidate for a leadership position.
Name: Charles "Lucky" O'Connor
Weight: 185lbs
Height: 5'11
Race: Human
Rank: Staff Sergeant
Place of Birth: Ireland
Age: 25
Weapons/equipment used:
L86A1
G19
Karl Gustav
Schools attended:
Basic Training
SERE School
Urban Raiding and Fighting school
Pathfinder School
Air Assault School
Airborne School
Sapper School
Jungle Warfare School
Notes: O'Connor had received his nickname through acts of sheer good luck. During SERE school, O'Connor had managed to evade dogs at all times and was never captured. When asked, he simply cited his good luck.