NationStates Jolt Archive

Jack Riddel unshouldered his gun. "How's he doing?" He asked.

"GPS says he's about thirty yards away from us, heading towards the boundry." Replied his personal assistant, crouching behind the camo-netting with him.

"Excellent. First time in three months I've had to use the GPS, you know."

"Really? Well I warned you he was an expert. Was special forces under the old regime. Scary stuff."

"And one of the last special forces left from the old regime that we haven't swayed or killed. Best make sure he doesn't get away, hmm?"

"Yes, sir."
***
Mitchell Wall watched the hapless deer wander towards the boundry, the GPS tag that had been implanted under the skin in his arm tied to it's leg. He winced slightly as the machine gun opened up from behind the camoflage netting, tearing the animal apart. But now he knew where his enemies were, and they didn't know where he was. That was definitely a plus.

He turned back to the spear he was working on.
***
One Week Later

Mitchell was starting to suspect he wouldn't make it past the boundry. He had approached it several times, but each time had been repulsed by an enemy. The last one, a sniper hidden in one of the massive pine trees, had wounded him in the arm. And now they were using bloodhounds.

Mitchell, as opposed to his enemies, who had the finest military technology their money could buy, had caches of spears and sharpened rocks hidden throughout the forest, and a pistol in his belt with three shots left.

His enemy controlled the ground, and the skies. Two days ago, Riddel had tried to gas him from bombers. Of course, that was after he had removed the GPS, so he had missed pretty horribly. Still, he had caught a couple of breaths of it, and he still felt a little wheezy.

Jack Riddel didn't fuck around when he hunted.

Mitch heard the man coming up from behind him. The man didn't seem to have seen Mitchell yet. Understandable, as Mitchell was up in a tree, wearing a camoflage outfit he had taken from the same man as he had the pistol.

The man passed directly beneath Mitchell. Mitchell dropped down, landing on top of the man, and grabbing one of his stone knives. The man, meanwhile, having dropped his AK-47, went for his own combat knife. Mitch got his first, plunging the knife into the man's throat. As the man tried to scream, Mitchell stood up, and calmly stepped on the man's throat. When he was certain the man was dead, he bent down and picked up the radio. The last man's radio had been destroyed.

The radio was really a marvel of engineering, compared to what he had used back in the day. It would send a signal anywhere in the world if tuned properly. Currently it was using a short range wavelength, but that could be changed with the turn of a dial.

"Attention," he spoke into it, after tuning it. "My name is Mitchell Hall. I am being hunted like an animal by Jack Riddel, for one simple reason. I posses extremely important tactical information. In exchange for being extracted safely from withing ten miles of my current position, I will share this information with whoever wants it."

He flicked the radio off and started running, figuring it would take long for his position to be determined by Jack and his boys.

Can that border be with me?

Can that border be with me?

OOC: Nope. It's not a border. It's the boundry of the hunting area. If Mitch makes it past their he's (theoretically) free to go. Those are the rules. Of course, as my edited post will soon show, the odds are stacked pretty heavily against him.

So then, what is this, a self RP?

So then, what is this, a self RP?

OOC: Nope. There will be a public announcement somewhere along the line.

OOC: Nope. There will be a public announcement somewhere along the line.

'Tis up now.

OOC: Mind if I drop in a few Grand Imperial Jimuhn troops to support him? I don't know, as many as five or so?

OOC: Mind if I drop in a few Grand Imperial Jimuhn troops to support him? I don't know, as many as five or so?

OOC: Nope. Except that I would probably notice them being there and all. What with the needing to get there.

Can they be a Private Corporation from out of the Latican Empire, but are secret KBG-like orginization? And you never find out :-p other than OOC- OOC

OOC: What tech level? Is light PMT alright? I'm thinking of sending an operative in (special agent, trained from birth and with all kinds of high tech toys)

Can they be a Private Corporation from out of the Latican Empire, but are secret KBG-like orginization? And you never find out :-p other than OOC- OOC

OOC: No promises that I won't find out. We'll just see how it plays out. And Mondoth, low PMT is fine, although my nation can't afford all that much past soviet tech.

"Attention," he spoke into it, after tuning it. "My name is Mitchell Hall. I am being hunted like an animal by Jack Riddel, for one simple reason. I posses extremely important tactical information. In exchange for being extracted safely from withing ten miles of my current position, I will share this information with whoever wants it."

He flicked the radio off and started running, figuring it would take long for his position to be determined by Jack and his boys.

The Mafia was interested. They had Guathican Rocket APCs that could deliver them to their target with up to 15 Mafia soldiers each. However, extraction would be a problem.

They collected more data about the target.

OOC: So what is it like and how can we insert and extract men?

I want to join, but I'll probably be able only to support him, maybe not extract.

The Mafia was interested. They had Guathican Rocket APCs that could deliver them to their target with up to 15 Mafia soldiers each. However, extraction would be a problem.

They collected more data about the target.

OOC: So what is it like and how can we insert and extract men?

OOC: Basically, it's a mountain and a bit of a surrounding forest. Considering my shoddy air defenses, insertion could probably be achieved by any sort of stealth aircraft. Extraction would be a bit trickier, but if you get him outside of the boundry, he can just buy passage on a ship without any further harrasment. Officially. Unofficially, you might have to dodge a couple of assassins on the way out.

OOC: Basically, it's a mountain and a bit of a surrounding forest. Considering my shoddy air defenses, insertion could probably be achieved by any sort of stealth aircraft. Extraction would be a bit trickier, but if you get him outside of the boundry, he can just buy passage on a ship without any further harrasment. Officially. Unofficially, you might have to dodge a couple of assassins on the way out.

A C-130 soars just above the ocean, hiding underneath the RADAR, however little there was. The plane rocked back and forth, causing one of the 8 mercenaries to throw up.

"Pussy."

Satellite readings showed where the installations where and the C-130 was dodging the various holes in their shoddy RADAR coverage.

Inside the C-130, there were 2 uparmored Humvees with a 5.56mm MG.

"15 minutes to drop point."

That is where the 'radioman' as the mercs have come to call him was.

Each one wore heavy body armor, carried a G36 and a Sig Sauer pistol.

They packed up and got into their vehicles. The Mafia couldn't afford the loss of a C-130 and so as they approached the drop point, the rear of the plane opened up and the air was sucked out. A piece of paper, a receipt for a bag of chips from a store in United Somalia flew out, and the plane descended very low.

"Clearing sighted, green light in 2 minutes"

A clearing up ahead was the drop point, and soon the light in the rear of the plane went green. The locks on the HMMWV's wheels were released and the vehicles backed out of the C-130, plummeting 5 meters into the clearing, clearing some brush away and the C-130 turned around and flew back out toward an aircraft carrier stationed in international waters.

The mercenaries in their HMMWVs hit the ground hard and their brakes hit and they were safe, for a second.

The woodland camo on the HMMWV's would be good, but they had to find the radioman.

They radioed again on the same freq: "Mitch, where are where you were, extraction imminent."

They quickly formed a perimeter, covered up the HMMWVs in camo netting and quickly moved away from them. Some hid in the trees, others in the nearby brush. The HMMWVs were as much bait as they were backup. They were well equipped for combat and quickly settled in for the night. 2 were asleep in the trees, while the other 6 stood guard. Their thermal and night vision gear banished the darkness to green light and false color readings.

OOC: Basically, it's a mountain and a bit of a surrounding forest. Considering my shoddy air defenses, insertion could probably be achieved by any sort of stealth aircraft.

I would like to use the Air arm of the Neucom Emergency Unit, of my corporation Neucom Inc to aid against Jack Riddle. I would have posted earlier but I had internet trouble.

Mitchell heard the radio frequency, and he had seen the C-130. That didn't mean he trusted them. Just the type of trick someone might use to lure him out.

Mitchell glanced below him. Another hapless member of the 'hunting' party. He grinned and switched on the radio, muttering, "About one hundred yards north of your current position."

The oblivious soldier, meanwhile, strode blithely towards the mafia.

Mitchell heard the radio frequency, and he had seen the C-130. That didn't mean he trusted them. Just the type of trick someone might use to lure him out.

Mitchell glanced below him. Another hapless member of the 'hunting' party. He grinned and switched on the radio, muttering, "About one hundred yards north of your current position."

The oblivious soldier, meanwhile, strode blithely towards the mafia.

"Tango spotted."

One of the Mafia soldiers raised his QBU-88 and took aim. A quiet burst struck the soldier right between the eyes and another in the heart. A G36 wielding soldier came down from the trees, grabbed the body, tugged on his rope, and him and the dead body were pulled up.

"Trust us, that doesn't sound like a Teraqi weapon does it?'

Mitchell grinned toothily and spoke into the radio. "Teraq doesn't make their own weapons," he said. He paused. "But I guess I can just kill you all if this goes south."

He descended rapidly from the tree. "Now we'd best get moving. Radio chatter never goes unnoticed for long."

Mitchell grinned toothily and spoke into the radio. "Teraq doesn't make their own weapons," he said. He paused. "But I guess I can just kill you all if this goes south."

He descended rapidly from the tree. "Now we'd best get moving. Radio chatter never goes unnoticed for long."

"Yeah, get close to the clearing, but I understand the worry about it. We'll get in some air support if we have to."

2 Su-25s had taken off, along with 3 Mi-8 Hips to extract them.

They were getting close, and one of the soldiers got into the HMMWV and put up an infrared beacon to signal the helicopters.

The sound of beating blades got closer, and 4 mercs descended and set up a perimeter and searching the nearby forest for any more enemies.

The aircraft were going extremely low and the Su-25s roared overhead first. 1 minute behind the Mi-8 Hips moved in to extract them.

OOC: I have to go to class, be back at around 8 PM EST.

Mitch shook his head. "Helicopters are no good. There are men all over the place, especially near the boundries, with AA missiles. Probably the only reason they didn't get shot down on the way here was that they figure they might have a chance to take me out along with them."

He knelt, and put his ear to the ground. He stood up and shook his head. "Looks like your whirlybird friends got us noticed. Sizable group headed this way." He stood up. "I don't know about you, but personally, I'm tired of being hunted."

Mitch shook his head. "Helicopters are no good. There are men all over the place, especially near the boundries, with AA missiles. Probably the only reason they didn't get shot down on the way here was that they figure they might have a chance to take me out along with them."

He knelt, and put his ear to the ground. He stood up and shook his head. "Looks like your whirlybird friends got us noticed. Sizable group headed this way." He stood up. "I don't know about you, but personally, I'm tired of being hunted."

"Shit, shit, shit. We hoped for an easy extraction..."

The lead merc puts his mouth toward his throat and mouths a few words, and the sound of beating blades begins to recede into the distance.

"Those Su-25s are probably going too low to be hit by anything except triple-A fire."

He motions to the sniper, and he moves his index finger across his throats to the other mercs.

"We'll put up some Claymores and use the HMMWVs as bait to get them close."

The merc gets a small smile on his face. He removes a pistol like device and hands it to Mitch; "This is the Pave Pin LASER designator, it is used to help our Su-25 Rooks target our enemies. "

"Point and pull, and we'll call in an airstrike, badabing, badaboom."

"Shit, shit, shit. We hoped for an easy extraction..."

The lead merc puts his mouth toward his throat and mouths a few words, and the sound of beating blades begins to recede into the distance.

"Those Su-25s are probably going too low to be hit by anything except triple-A fire."

He motions to the sniper, and he moves his index finger across his throats to the other mercs.

"We'll put up some Claymores and use the HMMWVs as bait to get them close."

The merc gets a small smile on his face. He removes a pistol like device and hands it to Mitch; "This is the Pave Pin LASER designator, it is used to help our Su-25 Rooks target our enemies. "

"Point and pull, and we'll call in an airstrike, badabing, badaboom."

"You're going to... bait the antiaircraft, to get close? That... doesn't make any sense. I've got to be misunderstanding you. What are you saying here?" He asked.

"You're going to... bait the antiaircraft, to get close? That... doesn't make any sense. I've got to be misunderstanding you. What are you saying here?" He asked.

"The HMMWVs are our bait, those M60 MGs are remote controlled, and we just point them into the forest and have them shoot, getting their attention. The stupid bastards come close, and the claymores go boom and we clean up the rest."

"Then we move to the edge of the boundary with the HMMWVs covering our rear, and any heavy resistance, we call the Rooks via that Pave Pin designator."

"We do have one final option. If we can get to a safe clearing, our HMMWV has some blimps. We inflate the little buggers, and the C-130 comes back, picks up the wire via a special arrestor hook, and we literally are pulled into the sky."

A distant explosion is heard, and a Rook streaks above them. It had just dropped a 500lb bomb on what it thought was an enemy movement near them. They were starting to get dangerously close.

Meanwhile, a number of Teraqi 'hunters' were creeping through the underbrush nearby. Unlike most of the hunters Mitch had faced so far, these were professional, hardened soldiers, not raw recruits.

"Infrared is picking up a number of signatures," one whispered. "He definitely has allies there."

"Then let's take them out," replied the squad leader. "We have coordinates." He spoke hurridely into a microphone, and the men withdrew hastily, as mortars began firing.

Meanwhile, a number of Teraqi 'hunters' were creeping through the underbrush nearby. Unlike most of the hunters Mitch had faced so far, these were professional, hardened soldiers, not raw recruits.

"Infrared is picking up a number of signatures," one whispered. "He definitely has allies there."

"Then let's take them out," replied the squad leader. "We have coordinates." He spoke hurridely into a microphone, and the men withdrew hastily, as mortars began firing.

The first mortar round impacted close to the leader and Mitch, luckily, the leader stood between Mitch and the mortar. A chunk of shrapnel, cut his cheek slightly, a mere flesh wound, while his heavy ceramic, Kevlar body armour absorbed the rest.

The second struck behind the HMMWV and send it lurching into the air, and crashing back down, cracking the rear windows.

A sniper began working with a slide rule as more mortars came in, and the teams moved away from the HMMWVs.

He shouted out a series of coordinates and the leader nodded.

The leader immediately put a microphone to his throat and began mouthing orders.

Soon an Su-25 using those coordinates strafed the target, shredding the trees nearby and another followed up with several 57mm rockets.

They turned around to strafe it again and finally bomb it with 500lb bombs.

The leader screamed to the other mercs "Scatter, we'll regroup at Charlie Point, take out whomever you see, Willy Pete is authorized."

A man smiled and picked up his launcher with four tubes. It was an American made replacement for the flamethrower, but these warheads were White Phosphorous. He fired into the forest, and a few seconds later a blinding white glow appeared and the forest was in flames.

The other mercs scrambled to get the loot out of the HMMWV in order to survive better until they regrouped at Charlie, and one threw a Flak jacket and an AR-550 at Mitch.

The leader quickly strapped Mitch into the flak jacket, and showed him the basics of the AR-550 while running.

A screamed pierced the sounds of mortar fire as a merc had his finger removed by shrapnel. He was quickly silenced as another merc shoved a painkiller needle into this neck and another put Biofoam on it. He was dragged out as one final Mortar destroyed the first HMMWV.

Listen carefully, I may be able to help you indirectly with some basic maneuvers to avoid detection. First you need to break up your movement pattern, do not move in straight lines, use cross stepping diagonal and sideways movement to confuse the trackers. If you have heavy boots or boots with tracked soles remove them. Look for a large body of water to cross, preferably underwater. If they are using infrared, use stone and thick trees for cover. Also mud will block out heat signatures, but it might leave signs for them to follow you. I will be able to provide satellite imagery of the terrain. If you need an idea of terrain features that might help let me know. I will be following up.

IC: A satellite is moving overhead taking pictures of the area.