NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: The last zombie thread that I was part of was good, until everyone stopped posting. Please let's keep this one going. To join just RP your starting thread.

IC: It had started in Washington DC, the American President had been the first to fall to these.....zombies. Then he had joined them. The USA had been in turnoil, so when the zombies hit the US army bases from the sewers, outside, the cemeteries, all at the same time, there hadn't been much chance for the soldiers.

It had spread through all of America, this disease that turned people into zombies when they died. Pretty soon only a few places held out. 5 army bases was all that was left, holding out against the zombies.

Europe had been affected as well, when a ship had arrived from America. Even the combined armies of Europe hadn't stopped these things. As soon as a zombie killed a soldier, the soldier got up again, as a zombie.

And these wer not the zombies you see on the films. These zombies were quick, and smart, and strong, so strong.

There were only a few people still alive, and fighting or hiding.

Hans Dresden was a fighter, not a hider.

He had been in the Polish Armed Forces, and he was muscular, and in the peak of his fighting condition. He had shown such promise as a soldier that he had been selected to join the Elite EU force, the Black Cobras. He had been on his training excercise when the disease had hit Europe, and it was only when he got back from the Arctic, alone, that he had discovered what had happened.
****
In one hand, he built a small wall from the chunks of brick lying about the ruined building. With the other he placed his L-96 on top of the wall, and zeroed on a zombies head.
****
It had been a hard time for him, getting to America. He had gone all the way West, through Russia, until he reached the Ice Bridge, and had gone as far as he could. After that, he had used his small boat, and got to America.
****
He breathed out, and then squeezed the trigger. The zombies head exploded in a shower of gore. The zombies around it looked about, looking for where the shot had come from. Hans settled on the next.
****
He had gone down through Alaska, then Canada, and finally he had arrived in New York, where he had found only zombies. He hadn't searched very far, but he still had found only zombies.
****
That one's head exploded too. But the remaining two zombies were now coming towards him. He fired off another shot, misfiring and smacking one through the kneecap. That would slow it down at least.

He reached behind his back, and pulled out a bayonet in one hand, and an axe in the other. He slammed the bayonet into the first one to reach him, and it grabbed his arm. He felt himself being lifted, and hacked off the strong arm with his handaxe. He fell again, and slashed his bayonet across, opening the zombies kneck. He punched it in the nose, and it's head snapped back. It was a simple matter to hack down done last time.

The second zombie, he walked up to it, and calmly smashed the back of it's head in.

***************

He climbed back into his leather chair, at the top of the Scyscraper he had taken as his base. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. The scar on his cheek gave him a mocking expression, except when he smiled or laughed, and that was uncommmon these days. He swept his blode hair back, and sighed.

The small armoury he had amassed was impressive. Two SMGs, 1 Sniper Rifle, 1 M4, and two pistols.

He wondered if he would survive this, if he would finally make it down to the bottom of South America, where the last true stronghold of people were supposed to remain. He could strike out for any of the five remaining army bases also. He sighed again, it was time for sleep.

John Adams stared down at the foetid sight that was now New York. For the last 5 years he had been in NYC as part of an M.I.6 team sent in by the U.K. government to assassinate a US government official who was on the brink of dislosing details of British involvement in several very unpleasant bomb attacks within the US. It didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now but finding other survivors, and either killing as many zombies as possible or getting out of the country.

He stared at the group of zombies in front of him. They stared back. His trusty beretta was in his hand, more or less right in the face of the closest creature. He knew that he probably wouldn't be able to fight them all. It snarled. John spotted a flash from a window in a building up ahead, then a split second later the zombie's head burst open, covering his suit in chunks of skull and grey matter. The rest of the 'pack' began looking around, their old target forgotten. Big mistake.

He spung into action, jumping behind a trashcan, firing into the group. Three zombies went down in a hail of bullets, their blood decorating the road. One of them twitched on the ground. John walked up to it. The creatuure snarled, incapable of moving its arms or legs. He smiled, faintly, and emptied his magazine ino the disgusting thing. He now had an objective. He began walking towards the skyscraper where the mysterious sniper had fired from.

Hans had heard the shooting. He knew that zombies didn't shoot guns, or at least, he hoped they didn't. He grabbed his M4, and began to slowly go down the stairs.

He got to the 3rd floor, where he could see the main entrance hall, and lined up his sights on the door, ready for anything, enemy, or allie.

John ran. He had attracted a lot of attention in his short journey, attention he wanted to be rid of. He reached into is pocket, and picked up a phosphorous grenade he had taken fromt he body of an unfortunate marine he had been travelling with before he got into NYC. Pulling out the pin, he threw it at the nearest zombie. The phosphorous was released at the right time, and the zombie ws left thrashing on the ground, trying to survive the dreadful burning in it's decaying chest, the dead face locked in a look of horror.

After an age of running he reached the front entrance to the skyscraper. He reached htem, and with a look of dismay, realised hat they were jammed. He pounded on the doors for a second, and turned to face the six or seven creatures that stood behind him, preparing to slaughter and consume him. He got out his gun, aimed into the group, and fired.

Hans heard the banging, then the shooting. He ran to the window above the doors.

"HEY!" He shouted down to the man, then threw down his M4 towards the man, preparing to use just his pistol. Hem turned again, and ran for the stairs. He got to the first floor, and leapt over the banister.

He smacked into the doors, and wrenched them open. The firing was still going on, and he hoped he was in time. He went out with his pistol out in front.

John caught the assault rifle, and grinned.

"My turn, you decaying bastards!"

He opened fire, sending chunks of bone and flesh flying, the small group of zombies began to close in, hesitantly, knowing the damage the rifle would do. Two of them fell to the rifle quickly, and one got in close. Bringing the butt of the rifle down, John snapped its neck in one blow, the zombie fell. Seconds later, another jumped at him. Turning swiftly, John took aim, and fired. The zombie screeched, and turned back. The group moved back together, and prepared for a final attack.

Hans came out, and fired two shots off from his Vis, into the head of the nearest zombie.

There was a bad thing about having two of them, and a good thing. The zombies would be more tempted now, and would come on, to attack them properly. Then again, with two of them, the zombies would be cut down more quickly. Hans pasted the new man another couple of clips for the M4. He then took his handaxe in his left hand, and knelt down, just to make sure that tjhe already down zombies were dead, hecking off their heads, then getting up and waiting to see what the zombies would do.

OOC: http://world.guns.ru/handguns/hg61-e.htm link for Vis.

"Thanks, I was running out."

John looked at the man, and felt slightly nauseous looking at the decapitated creatures. Shaking it off, he turned back to the zombies.

"Sometimes, I really cannot be bothered."

Taking careful aim, he put a bullet in the face of an advancing zombie. They were obviously learning their lessons. Some of them were taking cover, hiding behind the debris of a city inhabited mainly by the dead.

"So, who are you?"

Julian ran. The High School senior had been running off and on for what seemed like hours. His Senior Trip to New York had turned into a nightmare of biblical proportions.

"This can't be happening...can't be happening..." he gasped as he trned a corner and ran out into the street, dodging between cars as the moans of the undead followed him. This couldn't be happening. It was something that happened in bad horror flicks, not in the real world. He paused for a moment leaning against an abandoned car, panting. He blinked, staring at the crowbar that lay on the passenger seat. That was lucky. He grabbed the crow bar, took a couple more deep breaths and kept going.

As he ran, he heard a clatter of gun fire and came up short, looking for it's source/ Seeing the two men by the base of a skyscraper, he began to run towards them.

"Hey! Hey! Help!"

" I'm Hans, I'm from Poland, and I used to be part of the Black Cobras, unbtil everyone else died. You?"

He shot a zombie through the eye, and it pirouetted in the air, and landing in a crumpled heap.

Hans heard the shout, and turned, to see a young man running towards them.

"Oh great, more zombies will come with him. Right, we need to get rid of these first. You cover me, unless you want to help", he said, as he holstered the pistol and drew out his bayonet again.

"Pleased to meet you Hans. John Adams, British intelligence. I don't suppose telling you really matters. Goddamnit, I hate zombies. Oh well, once more into the breach..."

Shouldering the rifle, he fired short bursts of fire at the tenacious zombies, making the street look like the site of a massacre. Which it was.

"Echo Leader, this is Echo Six. I've got small arms fire just south of my position, near one of the old skyscrapers."

"Roger that, Echo Six. Maintain current position, we'll get back to you, over." A few quick keystrokes focused one of the corporation's remaining satellites on the skyscraper in question. Indeed, there was a small group of people besieged by a growing number of zombies.

"Echo Six, this is Echo Leader. You are go for rescue operations. Get them out of there. Godspeed."

"Roger that, Echo Leader. We're on it. Echo Six out."

The UH-60 helicopter manuevered south, heading for the group of people. The side gunner, face grimly somber, readied his vulcan cannon for use. The helicopter came around the side of the building quickly, and the gunner opened up on the zombies. After he stopped shooting, the pilot brought the chopper in low and keyed the microphone.

"Make your way to the roof. We'll evac you from there." Without waiting for a response, the chopper flew up into the air, and in a few seconds had reached the roof. As it ascended, the men below could clearly see the stylized logo of the Halcyon Corporation on the underside.

Upon reaching the roof, the chopper dropped its three-man ground team onto the roof, and the team moved to secure the doorway leading into the building. The team leader prayed that the men below would be able to get up here. Halcyon intended to fix its mistakes.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

Adams didn't need any convincing to drop to the ground when the big guns start going off. Seconds later he stood up again. A large chunk of the gathering zombie crowd had been blasted to jelly by the cannon. Regaining his composure, he levelled his weapon, and fired again.
*CLICK*

"Uhhh, I'm out of ammo!"

Pulling out his trusty sidearm, he fired a few more shots, killing two more zombies.
*CLICK*

"Oh, dear. Hans! I suggest we do what the nice people in the helicopter said!"

"Yeh, thats a good idea, lets just wait for the younger one to get here first."

That would give him time to have some fun.

He ran forwards, and the first zombie to encounter him grabbed his arm, stopping him straight. He swung his right arm round, and the axe took off the top of the zombies head. He grinned as it sunk down. He chased into a small gas station, and when he came out the other side, was covered in gore.

He and John turned and prepared to run up to the top of the scyscraper. The lift had stopped working, a long time ago. And Hans wanted to collect the rest of his weapons.

A burst of fire destroyed the lock to the penthouse office on the top floor, and a swift kick brought the door down a second later. A narrow beam of light swept the room, and when nothing was spotted, quickly disappeared. The three-man team entered the room quickly, two facing forward and one covering the rear. Once they were in, the door was ripped from its hinges and propped up, to provide a barricade behind which the team could shoot if need be.

It was a good location. From the doorway, they had a commanding view of both the staircase to the roof and the stairs coming up from the bottom. There was only one way in or out of the hallway, and nothing would make it past the fire team if they didn't want it to live. The rear man chambered a round into his Squad Automatic Weapon, as if to emphasize the point.

The team leader plopped down onto the soft leather chair, and leaned back. "Fantastic day, huh guys?"

The man watching the door didn't say anything, but the other man chuckled. Then he found something. "Hey, Sarge, check this," he said, holding up an SMG. "Looks like someone's built themselves a nice little arsenal up here."

The sergeant nodded, and turned to look out of the window. "Might be one of them," he said, in reference to the men now making their way into the building.

"oh, hell. I don't like running up lots of stairs. I joined up so I could shoot some guy, collect a paycheque, go home and do office work. Fat chance. I truly hope that the newcomer isn't going to bing a lot of friends of the brain-eating variety. Those guys have no manners."

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sheath knife, jumped at a zombie, and with a mad flurry of strikes, the creature fell.

"Just how important are these guns to you anyway? I mean, I know you wouldn't be hanging around in there if it was a major nest of zombies, but still... These things aren't your average b-movie residents. They could be in the vents, heck, in the vending machines."

"Sir undead on our six. Detonate the them?" Asked Blue-Two, the team jogged up the stairs towards the roof. The each held a AK-47 except Blue-One who held two desert eagles, his AK-47 was lost while they were fighting with some of those undead down stairs.

"Blow them to hell. The structure I don't know how much the supports can take but this building is crawling with them, so if this goes down, that would be a good thing." Blue-One replied. He keyed his radio mike. "Red-One, how our those civilians?"

The Crackle of the radio, and a strong hefty voice said. "Good, chopper loaded and our boys are doing good. No one is bit, and scans show you have company following you. Should we detonate our share of the explosives?" Asked the soldier, a hint of rush in his voice. That meant he wanted to get of here. Putting a desert eagle in it's holster, he unloaded the magazine that was in the one in his had. Two rounds in the mag and one in the chamber.

Loading a fresh one in a magazine he charged up the stairs, with his team still behind him. Five soldiers of the US, British, and French Special Forces. "Crap, they're still on us."

Kicking open the roof door, he shouted to the man outside the Huey. "Frenchy, get the chopper off the ground! We have stiffs behind us and they aren't friendly." The term 'they aren't friendly' meant they was more than ten and they weren't going to be dispatched easily without heavy guns.

" Well they have kinda kept me alive, some of them since Europe, like my Vis' and my MP9, so they really mean a lot to me" He dropped the bayonet and shot a zombie that was chasing the kid through the head.

(OOC: Sorry but need to keep thread going) Hans grabbed the kid, and together they sprinted up the stairs. As they neared the top, Hans heard voices in his room. He hoped that they were people, not intelligent zombies.

OOC: Link for MP9 http://world.guns.ru/smg/smg63-e.htm

The chopper began raising off the roof, the team was already in the belly of it, along with dozen civilians who were happy to be freed and hopefully be going somewhere safe. "Give them some peace gentlemen." Blue-One said looking out the transport side door, he brought the detenator up and flicked the switch. The explosives his team placed exploded like a ballons.


Windows of the sky scraper exploded, glass, former humans and metal flew in all directions away from the explosion. The heat was intense anything was automaticly incinerated. Those that weren't were thrown to their doom from the higher stories of the building.


Red-One walked up, and detonated his set of explosives, the bottom half of the building went off in smoke. The building's support struts crippled and buckled. "Good job team," Blue-One turned. The building served and collasped taking everything non-living with it.

Red-One put a hand on Blue's shoulder. "Nate, you did the right thing. You wiped out a whole infection, we did good. Now time to go home, get these supplies and people to safety and we'll go back out and search for more people. We have a whole city."

"Yeah," Nate sighed. "Yet how many people do we have to find until we find Crystal. Six days, her team went out but not one call. Nothing. I don't want her to be found like one of those things, Joe. Not like what happened to my father."

"Don't worry." Joe smiled, his white teeth contrasted with his dark skin. "We'll find her."

"Form up!"

In an instant, the two men in the office had taken up positions behind the makeshift barricade, scanning the hallway. "What is it, Edwards?" the sergeant asked.

"Heard some voices. Might be friendlies." The man with the large machine gun gestured to the staircase with his weapon. After a few seconds, distinct voices could indeed be heard, heading up.

"Well, I ain't heard one of those things talk yet, so it must be human." The sergeant stepped over the doorway, and looked over the railing, keeping his weapon ready. He saw two men and a kid running up.

Shit, he thought. That kid can't be long out of high school. "Up here," he shouted. "Hurry, damnit!"

Behind him, one of his team members had opened the door to the roof, where the chopper was waiting. The helicopter's vulcan cannon was pointed at the door, ready to spit four thousand rounds a minute at any zombies who came through after the team. A flurry of hand signals between the team and the chopper caused the gunner to take his finger from the trigger, so as to avoid hitting any humans.

Suddenly, the sergeant's radio headset chirped. Bravo Team, this is Echo Leader. We have an unconfirmed report of an explosion near your position. Is everything alright? Over."

The sergeant keyed his radio. "Roger that, we're all fine. We're waiting for some civvies to get up to the roof, and we'll be out of here."

"Affirmative. Get out of there ASAP. Something pissed 'em off. Echo Leader over and out."

The sergeant leaned over the railing again and shouted, louder this time, for the men on the stairs to hurry.

Hans heard the shout, and started to sprint. He paused, and grabbed his weapons, tucking them in with military precision and efficiency. He turned and gave the rest of his M4 ammo to John, because he the had decided to give the rifle to him.

To the kid he offered an MP9, and then they were off, towards a helicopter, which had a very big gun on the side. Hans smiled, he had been trained to recognise big guns.

With the three civvies onboard the chopper, the three-man Bravo Team hurried back to the chopper. The rifleman and the SAW gunner were the first on, while the sergeant staid behind to drop a grenade down the stairs, to slow any zombies that had been following the civilians. That done, he ran onto the roof and sprinted toward toward the chopper.

He keyed his radio, to talk to the pilot over the noise of the rotors. "We need a dust-off, now!" The pilot affirmed, and the chopper began to lift into the air. The sergeant had by now reached the vehicle and was pulled in with the help of his comrades.

As the helicopter circled the skyscraper, gaining altitude, the sergeant took off his helmet, wiping sweat from his forehead. In the distance he could see smoke and fire from a still-unexplained explosion. Looking at the new guests, he extended a hand to the one who seemed to be their leader. "Name's John Winters. Exactly what the hell were you folks doing down there?"

Looking at Joe, Nate said. "Tell the pilot to set up for another run, other people can be in the area. Hopefully there will be others down there." The man nodded. And moved to the cockpit, shouting.

"You heard the Captain, check the area out," He added. "Fly boy. I don't know why they are making us take out you airforce around while we could take some good 'ol marines."

Shrugging because the pilot was basicly ignoring the old soldier, he brought the chopper lower and said. "We're getting some COM traffic. Hold on there are people out there."

" I'm Captain Hans Dresden, I was part of an Elite EU unit, but now I am the Elite EU unit I suppose. Me, I was living there, it was pretty comfy to be honest. But I don't know much about the other two, I only just met them."

He quickly outlined how he gotten to be in New York, then started to refill his Vis'.

"Wait people?" Nathan asked, automaticly ignoring the current civilians and pushed his way to the cockpit. The pilot looked back.

"Sir, yes, sir. You want me to contact them?"

"Damn straight I do. Tell them our current position and ask them who the hell are they." Nathan gave a rare smile.

The pilot fumbled with the controls and spoke into his mike, it was open on all freqs. "This is International Force, 1134 to all Human survivors. Does anyone read? Over." His voice was tense, the pilot was hoping for a reply.

Sergeant Winters whistled. "That's one hell of a story, Captain. Though I am afraid there ain't much left of the European Union anymore."

***

A light blinked on the console, signalling that a message was being broadcast. The co-pilot, who doubled as the communications officer, quickly hit the button to listen.

"This is International Force, 1134 to all Human survivors. Does anyone read? Over." The co-pilot responded immediately.

"Roger, this is Halcyon patrol Echo Six. We are reading you loud and clear. Over."

"Uhhh, fucking hell... I'm in a helicopter full of gun crazies, some Eastern European Rambo and a high schooler. There better be a lot mor people out there, or humanity is well and truly arsed."
After a short pause, he began to speak, to anyone who would listen.
"John Adams, MI6. Here to geneally cause trouble with these zombies, after they made my original mission obsolete."

"Sir we're getting some people on the other line." The pilot said before Nathan snatched the headset off the pilots head and placed it on his. "This is is International Force Zero One, give us your current location over." Nathan looked over to Joe who nodded while giving a thumbs up. Then he moved back to the cargo bay of the chopper his voice booming.

"Ladies and Gents! It looks like we're having some company soon, when we land I don't want any trouble! That goes double for my boy!" When he refered to "my boys" he was talking to the Special Operations soldiers who stirred up trouble.

The soldier nicknamed "Frenchy" smiled. "Sir what about the good ol' surprise, how about that."

Joe frowned and jabbed a heavy finger at the man. "Frenchy, try anything the stiffs will be having some desert."

(OOC: hope you don't mind me joining in)

Pre Zombie Attack

Acco rested his legs up on the footrest in front of him, it was comfortable but had forced him to move his back down which had causeds slight discomfort, his mate Spaz walked into the room, he carried two cans, one was beer of an unknown brand, and the other was Coke, he tossed the now flat Fizzy drink over to Acco, the can hit his fingers and bounced off under the bed, after some careful readjustment Acco managed to grab a hold of the can, he looked up at the TV, "28 Days Later" good film if a bit gorey, it was a perfect film for a Haloween's day, if it were Haloween, as the film came slowly to a close Acco drifted off to sleep.

Post Zombie Attack

Acco woke up, the sun was now barely shining through the half drawn curtains, Spaz had vanished possibly down the stairs, Acco had been told that he was unwakable in these situations, with nothing to do in the room Acco made his way down into the kitchen where he assumed Spaz to be, nothing, nothing worried Acco is it now made clear that his mate was elswhere, the only other place of any value being....

Somerfield, just across the road from the Spaz household and sickly green in apperance, Acco was already halfway over barefooted as he felt every stone, he didn't much care as it was building up a thick layer of dead skin, he whistled as he turned the last corner into the front entrance of Somerfield, it was locked, barred and chained, Acco checked his watch, it was well past opening times, suddenly his eye caught somthing, an assistant, "hey dude!" He shouted out to the young teenager.

The Zombie turned, he stared at the fresh meal looking him straight in the eye, with a shuffle of his feet the zombie moved into action, slowlyat first but bringing up a quick jogging speed, as the corpse moved closer Acco began to realise that this was'nt an assistant, "oh crap!" He exclaimed, he bolted around the corner where there were several large poles of wood, the Zombie behind him was slowly catching up on the Stoner, Acco grabbed a pole and smashed it across the Undead face, without hesitating he ran back to the front door, he tried to smash his way in by hitting the door with his club til a voice inside told him to go to the Tradsemans entrance.

The sea. So peaceful and traquil. The sun's rays beat down upon the deck of the U.S.S. Tarawa. A gentle breeze carassed the flight deck. Above, a flight of gulls sqauked and froliced. Such a peaceful scene.

It was this very scene that 2LT. Ron Larsson sat in, leaning against his AV-8. The white letters that proudly proclaimed that this vehicle belonged to the U.S. Marines were still quite visable. Of course, with the demise of the government, the Marines didn't officially exist anymore. Nor did any branch of the military. Just a few ships still active, scavenging off any port they could find. The Tarawa was one of these ships. A helicopter carrier, most of her aircraft were rotting away in a hanger somewhere. She was in the process of being decomed and most of her copters had been dispatched to other ships. That was of course, when the undead attacked.

Ron remembered it vividly. There was a massive parade in Charleston, where she was docked. He was helping to pull security. Thousands of people. Children sitting on their father's shoulders. Watching the police and fire department go by. It was a scene from a horror movie. Hundreds of these...things...poured unto the street. Chaos and death reigned that day. The police and the few military there were powerless to stop them. They tried to escape. A few hundred police, firefighters, and soldiers made it to the port. They pulled out, and never looked back.

Now, the Tarawa sat at anchor in New York harbor. Ron knew what was next. The captain would send them on a hunt for fuel and supplies. Once located, LCACs would land and secure the port. The ship herself would pull in and refuel. The Marines then loaded back into the ship. It had become standard.

Ron looked out. The Statue of Liberty was visible. Her latern had long since gone out, but her figure stood resolute, almost defiant, of the fate of her city. He sighed. He went below decks, then made his way to the breifing room. There were a few hundred men inside. The captain stood by a podium. He took a seat. Over a few more minutes, more people arrived. Then, the captain began.

OOC: How'd ya like it?

OOC: That was fine.

LoL, I'd have a lot of fun killing zombies.

OOC: Now why did you do that?

IC: Hans heard the call, and started, he had been in New York for almost a moth, and all of a sudden he was hearing that there were peple, and by the sounds of thiings, lots of them.

OOC: I am going to use SSG. G once again if that is o.k. with everyone.

OOC: Thats fine by me, i liked SSG. G

With most of Americas armed forces off to war the National Guard took on the initial homeland security efforts to combat the dead. A week earlier SSG. G was sitting in Knoxville watching television and laughing that the offensive coordinator for the University of Tennessee had quit.
It was strange that a team with talks of a national championship had just lost yet another game to South Carolina of all teams.

Then a special news report came on:

"It has been established that persons who have recently died have been returning to life and committing acts of murder. A wide investigation of reports from funeral homes, morgues and hospitals has concluded that the unburied dead are coming back to life and seeking human victims..."

Speculation rests on a radiation-covered NASA satellite returning from Venus, but it only remains a speculation.

The phone rang. The unit was called up for duty.

The Cav unit first deployed to Evans City, PA where it was thought the outbreak began. The reports were wrong. The initial outbreak began in D.C. At any rate Evans City was quickly wiped out along with the guard unit.


Now alone in a APC moving across the Queensboro bridge into New York, SSG. G wondered if he would find anyone alive.

Bump

OOC: Blooming people disappearing grrr

IC: Hans jumped out the suddenly empty helicopter that was zooming towards the ground. He caught hold of a ledge on the side of a building, to see the helicopter almost definately going down to hit an APC rumbling accross some bridge.

"Shit" He pulled out one of his Viz's and put one shot through the engine tank fo the helicopter. He quickly shot as many bullets as he could into the same area with his SMG's, and sddenly, the helicopter blew up in mid-air.

Hans climbed up. All he had left were his Viz's and his two SMG's/ He would try and slavage what was left froom the helicopter wreckage. He decided to get down to the APC driver, and greet him or her.