"Rider One-One, this is Thundercloud, alpha check, over?"
"Thundercloud, Rider, Alpha is green, over."
"Rider One-One, Storms moving in faster than forecast, I can't guarantee more than one zero minutes until it hits you, over."
Gunnery Sergeant Curt Adams cursed under his breath at the report.
"Rider one-one, how copy?" came the voice of the Special Operations Weather Team member over the radio.
"Rider copies all." With a greater hint of annoyance than he intended to let slip. Despite his status as an acting team leader for approaching a year now, he occasionally missed the times when coordination was other people's problems.
He looked around, the world lit in a dull white haze through his night-vision goggles. What had once been the temperate region of South Sotoa in Verusea had been rapidly transformed a quarter century prior by an asteroid impact, leaving a side effect of mega-storms that tore through the environment with clouds of silica and ash that ranged from mildly annoying to destroying cities in the matter of hours, and Adams and his five man team were staring at one of these storms bearing down on their position as they made their way through the converted landscape.
He felt a tap on his shoulder, he turned around to see their liaison, a Janosian Self Defense Force Special Forces member he only vaguely knew as Kuribayashi. "Why are we stopped?" he asked.
"Storms coming in. we're almost there but it will be a pain to get out." He sighed, glancing at his GPS unit. They were less than a mile away from their target, and thanks to the storm the insurgents they had been tracking for weeks now had pulled in their own sentries making the teams insertion far easier than they were used to.
"I don't need to remind you-"Kuribayashi began until Adams held up his hand to cut him off "You're right, you don't." he said before pivoting on his boot heel to continue his hike towards the objective.
a month earlier, a leading researcher had gotten himself kidnapped while on a lecture tour in Kaluga. The Janosian government, reached out to Osea in a bid for aid to recover their citizen. Within a week the Osean Intelligence Agency had caught wind of where the gang that had initially kidnapped the researcher had been double crossed by a larger insurgent faction in the region, and it wasn't before long that the Marines of Basilisk team had actionable intel on where the researcher was being held. A consequence, however, was that they needed Kuribayashi to play translator.
As Adams continued walking, he could hear another set of footsteps approaching him through the sand.
"Remember to play nice jefe." Teased the teams Corpsman, Petty Officer Garcia who had been watching the exchange.
"Yeah, yeah." Adams replied dismissively.
Just then, Adams radio squawked alive.
"Rider One-one, Cajun Three-One, eyes on target. Over."
"Cajun, Rider One-one, copies all, hold position we're still five mikes out" Adams replied.
Due to the nature of the mission and depleted size of Basilisk, they had been forced to rely on the Marine Force Recon unit from the closest MEF for support. Within minutes, the five men were crawling over a sand dune to overlook their objective.
the camp itself was modest, only having one permanent structure, a brick two story building, and a few tents that appeared to be for supplies, as well as a large canvas shelter for what Adams assumed was their trucks.
"Rider one-one visual on target." Adams called out as he flipped up his goggles. He could make out a faint blue shimmer surrounding the camp itself.
"What the hell is that?" muttered another Basilisk Marine, Corporal Keith Jaworski. "Its an APS. Same tech the Arkbird used." Replied Garcia. "You mean the Arsenal Bird" added in Sergeant Rich Baron, "Yeah whatever. Too many birds, whichever that joda around the Lighthouse was." Garcia replied. "Does that mean we can't get through it?" Jaworski asked. Adams cleared his throat. "Its same tech but a fraction of the power. It just keeps the dust out but we'll be fine." He said, ending the conversation as he keyed his mic.
"Cajun three-one, Rider One-one, Execute." He said simply. He could hear the sound of safety's being disengaged from rifles as the two squads of marines made their way into the camp. As he crossed the threshold of the blue aura, he felt his skin tingle slightly, before pushing the sensation from his mind. The Basilisk Marines approached the front door of the building. With what information they had, they had practiced what was to follow for days on end until it was near second nature. At the threshold, Adams motioned for Jaworski to take point on the door. He wrapped a small breaching charge on the door and gave a thumbs up to Adams, who clicked his radio twice.
the lights in the camp went dead as a charge laid by the Force Recon marines detonated, destroying the camps generators. Adams could hear shouting inside the structure seconds before the shaped charge detonated, blowing the door from its hinge.
Adams took point through the door, the world illuminated by the white haze of his goggles. He instantly had eyes on two men sitting at a table in the front room. Both looked middle aged and disheveled, wearing worn combat fatigues that poorly fit either, the first man he saw had a handgun in front of him on a table. With two shots in his center mass, he collapsed. The second man had just turned his head when Adams repositioned his rifle and fired another two shots – killing the man instantly. Jaworski and Baron followed Adams into the room. He motioned for the two to continue clearing the lower level.
Adams could hear the report of a rifle as one of the two neutralized another insurgent. Within a minute, the three had stacked below the staircase.
As Adams put his weight on the first step, he could hear shouting from above them in the stairwell.
"Awayin mo ako gago ka!" which had been immediately followed up by a cacophony of automatic gunfire. The rounds had landed on the wall well above Adams head, but he couldn't quite see his ambusher. As he moved to reposition himself for a shot, a loud crack followed by a showering of brick dust fell on Adams, he could hear a dull thud as the mans body fell limp to the floor. He smirked.
Prior to the mission, the Force Recon Marines had offered to act as overwatch as well as direct support. Adams hadn't seen what they had brought for a precision weapon, but from the giggling he assumed it was a rifle the Marines rarely had a chance to use.
Safely on the second floor, the Marines stacked up on the final door.
This has to be it. Adams thought to himself as he swung the door open.
There was two men, one older a noticeable paunch wearing dirty combat fatigues, and holding a younger, more far thinner man in front of him with a machete to his throat.
"Put the weapon down!" Adams barked as he moved to the side of the room to allow the other two Marines to follow in and train their guns on the scene.
The man with the Machete yelled something in response that Adams couldn't understand.
"Do it, now!" Adams hissed at the final insurgent. His hostage stared at the three marines wide-eyed in fear.
"Sir, I have a shot" Baron reported calmly.
"Take it."
With one rifle round, the final man dropped his blade and fell to the floor, dragging his hostage with him. Adams rushed over and kicked the limp body to the side, and pulled the smaller man away, who yelped in pain, slurring something Adams still couldn't make out. After a quick pat down to verify the man wasn't wearing a suicide vest, he keyed his radio, now satisfied the threats were contained for the time being.
"Rider One-Four, bring Shogun and yourself up." It was his easier way to have Garcia and Kuribayashi to verify the hostage was their target. The two men bounded up the stairs within seconds and with small flashlights looked the man over. Kuribayashi asking him questions in their native language while Garcia inspected the injuries he had sustained.
Kuribayashi looked at Adams and nodded, causing the Gunnery Sergeant to sigh in relief.
"Magus Six-One, Rider One-one, Grail is filled."
Adams and Baron were walking out of the Structure when a Recon Marine ran up to them.
"Whats going on?" Baron asked.
The marine chuckled "You guys gotta see this!" He said, motioning for the two to follow him. They glanced at each other, Baron cocking an eyebrow, before both of them shrugged and jogged after him. They followed him to the large canvas shelter. Inside was a dark mass of shapes and angles, an unsightly behemoth. The force Recon marines flashlights arcing across its body in awe.
"Is that what I think it is?" Baron muttered.
"Mi-24 Super Hind." Replied one of the Recon Marines, Person. "Where'd you think they got the money for this thing?" Person mused aloud.
"No idea." Adams whispered, walking around towards the back of the helicopter.
He had experienced Hinds plenty of times, but almost all carried sour memories. For a moment, he was on a jungle mesa top in Usea once again before pushing the memory from his mind.
Making note to report this finding back to their intelligence guy, Adams looked to Person "Prep this to blow too. I don't want to leave anything left for these guys."
"Really? You sure we can't ride this thing out of here? It'd be pretty pimping" the Marine protested.
"Just do it." Adams shot back exiting the shelter.
He found Garcia waiting for him outside the main structure.
"How is he?" Adams asked.
"Dehydrated, malnourished, a few general injuries including bruised ribs, and you dislocated his shoulder. But he's alert and ambulatory, he should be good for transport." The Corpsman reported.
"Baron, get on with our ride out of here" Adams ordered before turning back to Garcia.
"Something is bugging me." He admitted, not waiting for a response he continued. "We took out, what, five guys? Six? This place had a full-on gunship, and a hostage they were going to ransom off for millions; but they only protected him with six guys?"
The Corpsman shrugged. "I don't know what the job market for hired guns looks like out here. I can't imagine the employment pool is that deep either."
"It doesn't make sense" Adams replied. "Look, life's always been a bit loco, for us, it just comes with the territory. You weren't in Berserker when we hit that oil tanker a few years back. Eso fue una locura total." Garcia replied.
"Dude, cut it with that shit, you know I can't speak it" Adams said deflecting. "Bah" Garcia spat "You'd butcher it anyways, Gringo."
The two continued to talk until they could hear the rumble of truck engines, a small convoy of procured pickup trucks to take them to a landing zone a few miles away.
Adams aided Kuribayashi and Garcia in loading the captured researcher into the back cabin of one of the trucks, someone had given him a bandanna and large goggles which Adams thought made the man look silly in the mix of all the heavily armed Marines.
watching the convoy mount in their vehicles, he motioned to Baron. "Where's the weather guys?"
Baron shrugged "couldn't get them on the radio. Storm probably rolled in over them. They have their own way out if that happens."
Adams nodded in agreement but couldn't help but notice the nagging feeling continue in the pit of his stomach. Taking his seat in the passengers side of the truck carrying the researcher and Garcia, he was ready to set off and put the whole mission behind him.
The sand and silica flurried around the vehicle, briefly lightening up so they could see a few feet, before plunging them into a murky soup where he could hardly see the hood of the truck, let alone the lights of the truck in front of them. To Adams' annoyance, this also cut out their communications and GPS tracking too, slowing their exfiltration to a crawl.
the radio crackled to life; it was Baron who was in front of them. "How much longer to the extraction point?"
Adams glanced at his map. "We got another fifteen klicks until we hit the storm wall, and a few more after that. Give it an hour or so."
"Well good cause I have to-"Baron was cut off as the lead truck was tossed aside like a toy. Adams could see a figure in the sand in front of them, but it was too late to slow down. The Truck came to a violent stop, and he was thrown against the headboard.
He blinked. His head hurt, and ears were ringing. Dust and glass swirled all around him. Off in the distance he could hear an echo of words.
"Everyone good?" he asked,
Garcia rubbed his head "been better but-"and before he could finish, his door, and the corpsman were gone in to the sand.
An arm reached into the cab, grabbing the researcher by the collar. Before Adams could act, five loud pops rang out in the vehicle as Kuribayashi grabbed his own handgun and fired into the assailant. The hand let go of the screaming researcher and grabbed the pistol, Adams could hear both the gun and Kuribayashi's hands break under the pressure. He screamed in anger and lunged at the unseen force, before another figure approached the opposite side of the Truck, breaking through the doors window and snapping the Special Forces member's head back, killing him.
Adams was halfway out the cab and reached his HK-416 under his arm and started firing wildly into the direction of the aggressor that killed Kuribayashi.
The muzzle flash was muted under the sands relentless assault, but the Marine kept firing until he ran empty. Reaching for another mag the attacker closed the distance, grabbed the barrel of his rifle and threw him into the side of the Truck.
He gasped for air and his vision was filled with spots. Pain. somewhere he felt bones crack and break under the pressure. The taste of copper filled his mouth as he slid to the ground wheezing. What felt like minutes he stood there, unable to move. He could only watch helplessly as the first marines to approach his attacker were beaten down.
"Holy shit! Contact!" screamed one of the marines before all hell broke loose.
Adams struggled, but his own body failed to move. His lungs hurt, his legs were weak and he was unable to shake the fog.
He could feel a dull thump as grenades were fired into the attacker. One of the Marines 40mm made contact and threw the attacker into the storm.
Ha, sucker Adams thought.
then he could hear panicked screaming from the truck. Falling to his side, Adams watched from underneath the vehicle as the man was pulled from the cab, flailing in protest as the impossibly strong man who had attacked them walked into the sandstorm before the wind and sand drowned out their shapes and screams.
For a brief moment he felt a touch on his shoulder before being forced onto his back. His vision cleared just enough to see a blank helmet faceplate before Curt Adams world went dark.
DUST TO DUST
By AWACS_Bandog