NationStates Jolt Archive

SIC1:

-Diego Garcia, The Indian Ocean-

The DSF squad and arrived just south of Simpsons point at around 1:45 AM. Directly east of them lie the Tanks that held the very precious fuel for the Aircraft at the Diego Garcia Military base. After a quick hushed conversation between the men, it was decided that 2 men would go to the tanks and plant explosives on them. The other 3 would make their way steadily southest towards the Runway. If possible they would make sure disable the runaway as clearily as possible. Make it nearly impossible for aircaft to take off.

The men in each group quickly saluted each other and headed off in their respective directions. The Tank Team had a distance of around 2 miles to jog to their targets. Their would most likely be guards along the way, but the DSF were trained in stealth and silent killing, so they would be little problem. The runway team had a good 4 or 5 miles to go before they go to their target. Their would probably be more guards here, but, just the same as with the Tanks Team, they would pose almost no challenge.

OOC: Map of Diego Garcia (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bb/CIA-DG-BIOT.jpg)

SIC2:

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

The Team had been dispatched from the SAS Mendi at 10:00 PM. It was decided, without much thought, that a nighttime attack would work much better. This is true about most stealth missions. The men were armed with the Dominions newest Assault Rifle, the CR-21. They were also armed with a few pounds of C-4 and other explosives.

They landed at Gannet Bay, just directly south of the Airbase. The men quickly dragged the Zodiac onto the beach and scouted the immediate vincinty. It was smallish grassy area with a few trees, not exactly ideal cover when approaching a base. But then again, the DSF soldiers had little choice. Still, thanks to the dark and their camoflauge the DSF soldiers were still hard to see in the dark. Infiltrating the airbase would be the hard part. But after that, it would probably only get worse once the locals knew they were here.

OOC: Map of Ascension (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Ascension_Island_Map.jpg)

SIC:

-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean-

The tank team had arrived near the Tanks. They began to hurridly set-up their C-4 Explosives at strategic points around the Tanks. All the while they kept an ever vigilant look out for Patrols. Already they had to sideskirt two patrols. They had also noted that the soldiers were armed, quite modernly, with M-16 Rifles. They had also noted that some of the soldiers were talking about this and that, gossip if you will. The team almost visibly blanched, men weren't supposed to gossip. Once the explosives were set, they checked the timer and primer, making sure each was working properly. Once they were sure that everything was in order, they headed north towards the main base and most likely more patrols.

The Runway team had misjudged the distance from their landing zone to the Runway. It was atleast 9 or 10 miles there, not the 4 or 5 originally thought. Although they had misjudged the distance, they had misjudged the number of patrols. Which were apparently quite numerous, because they had already sidestepped atleast 4 different 3 man patrols and they were barely half-way there. They hoped silently that they would be able to sabotage the runways and hopefully keep the Islanders from using their airpower. They also hoped the other team finished their mission successfully and were at the Zodiac waiting for them when they returned.

SIC2:

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

The DSF Squad made it way towards what the map called South Gannet Hill. One of the men made a comment about their not being a North Gannet Hill, and this was received by a round of chuckles from the men. The Hill would provide a good vantage point for the squad and from there they could decide how they would accomplish their goals. The map also pointed out that Wideawake Airfield was about a mile south of the Main base and that made accomplishing some of their goals a little tricky.

OOC: Now I wait for Wagdog to post.

OOC: I'll handle Diego Garcia here-Wagdog's got the Atlantic ones.

IC:

Diego Garcia
0158

"The hell are we out this late. I didn't even draw duty this fucking night..."

The griping of private Moushtader Ungar was driving the nerves of Sergeant Shadah Suresh into the dirty ground of the night. The ground was somewhat moist from the day's light drizzle, and a dreary day it had been. Nothing had gone on, and the day had drained like molasses.

"Shut your hole, or Krishna will shut it for you."

The patrol sat silent for a few minutes as the night ticked away with the speed of a crawling three-toed sloth. Not only was duty boring, but Suresh had to spend time with assholes like the ones in his squad. If they weren't Untouchables, Suresh would be surprised.

"I have to take a piss."

Suresh groaned at the comment by Ungar. The private was young-only 20-but he was easily the stupidest of a stupid crew.

"Go to the one on the other side of the runway in Hanger B," Suresh said. "Hanger A is busy with a few of the planes being active tonight."

"Fine," scoffed the private.

Suresh eyed the young man, but he didn't even notice, simply walked off towards the runway to cross it. Suresh motioned for the other two of the squad-slightly smarter-to take up a position behind a pile of sandbags that had served as cover for a training situation earlier that day. It would provide a place to sit for a minute before Ungar came back.

"I need to go too. Better to consolidate runs," Corporal Tanash Farahdin said.

He was the squad's only Moslem, and also bright enough to get things. He slinked off into the night-a rather wierd persona-after Ungar, who was loping along, head held high as his M16 hung limp off his back. Suresh sighed, resting his arms behind his head against the machine gun that sat at the sandbag, used earlier today to blow apart several dummies. It would be a long night at this rate.

OOC: Cool, I would like to mention that my men are special forces and these troops on Diego Garcia, while being better then most reserve soldeirs, aren't as good as rank and file soldiers. Or atleast thats what Wagdog had me believing... lol. Anyway I hope this RP has some good times.

IC:

-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean-

The Runway team had made good time. They were very near the Runways now. They could easily see the lights in one of the Hangars as one of the Mechanics worked on one of the planes. All seemed to be going according the plan and the team was getting a little excited.

Suddenly, the team heard sounds coming from their right. One the squad members used his night-vision goggles and saw that there was 3 guards around what appeared to be a sandbag pile and they seemed to be talking. The team caught only a few words here and there, most of it not making a load of sense to them. One of them began to walk across the runway, leaving the other two near the sandbag.

The team held a whispering conversation. They needed to decide what to do next. The quickest way on to the Runway was through the guards directly in front of them. They could go around them, but that would leave a big if right behind them, which could impede their progress if everything went FUBAR. They decided to try and take out these two guards silently and without killing them.

The team got into position and waited for the signal to go in and subdue the guards.

OOC: My guys are not really all that good-I tried to detail that with the "unruly private". The noncoms are ok, but the privates are mostly just brainless recruits in it for the thrill or because they can't find jobs anywhere else.
Also: this is a four-man group-it's 2 and 2 right now (2 up, 2 down).

IC:

"Ah!"

Ungar was returning-much to Suresh's disappointment. Why couldn't he be in someone else's squad?

"I emptied my bladder fullfillngly," the private said.

"Do you seriously have nothing better to say at 2 in the morning?" Suresh inquired, annoyed.

"Do you?" Ungar retorted.

The man had no respect for authority. It annoyed Suresh.

"I could do better than talk about full bladders," the Sergeant replied.

Farahdin was returning at this point, looking relieved. He sat down on the opposite side of the sandbag pile and sat there meditatively. It was putting the three Hindus a little off by the Moslem's actions. Ungar had the nerve to probe.

"What do you do like that?" the man asked.

Farahdin eyed him menacingly. The man's teeth were stark yellow; looking very much like those of a wolf. The Moslem looked a cross between Saracin and Ottoman-not a particularly good mix, but one that simply oozed dangerous.

"Fine, forget I asked," sulked Ungar.

The young private stood up and stretched, extending to full position and sticking his arms out. He gave a yawn, letting loose a full gutteral cry in doing so.

OOC: OK, here goes. Although I haven't found reference to a specific British RAF Regiment outfit @ Ascension or such yet, I bet the rogues would raise a similar outfit from the 200 total RAF personnel and 150 American contractors even if the result was less-skilled.
IC:
Jack Landingston led the section south into the marshes. Damn, I hate night patrol here. At first, he'd applauded the BBC and local telecom coup that had established Free Market Rule on the island ever since Britain had completed its descent into statism by joining the WEF. Still, even total freedom to do what I will with what I earn can't be worth this, right? Does a chap ever get a break? He then halted the eight-man patrol as his senses keyed up.
Something was wrong here, he could feel it. Hand signalling to one of the fireteams, they went forward with L86A2 LSWs, L85A2 rifles and LAW84 RPGs at the ready; the other team ready to lay a blanket of fire and metal down on the suspected intruders should they indeed be found. That, after radioing in the other 106 security personnel, who'd been among the 350 ex-RAF or USAF personnel serving on Ascension; until the local BBC and SERCO Ltd. concerns offered the military units a better deal to jointly defect and stage a mostly-forgotten coup against Her Majesty's Government at the time the WEF had absorbed Britain proper, that is. Those sections joined in, the party could start any minute now...

Somewhere in the Indian Ocean
The Sleek and stealthy Shiviak Class Frigate glided through the water towards Diego Garcia; either side at its flankers were two Veer Class missile corvettes along with one Replenishment tanker containing fuel and ammunition to re-supply the small battle group. It would take 3 days to reach the small island and the frigate carried a regiment of 2000 storm troopers ready to deploy and liberate the islands main naval base a squad of ASAS was also onboard for deployment. The frigate was armed with one six-inch gun; CIWS system and a full compliment of Bramos hypersonic Cruise missiles.

If it came to it they could certainly bring the pain. The mission commander was a Captain Jeffery Sinclair; Sinclair was a middle-aged man in his 40's to early 50's and captained the HMS Fairchild.

OOC: I may be god-modding here, but you did say that there were no where near my soldiers.

-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean-

The Runway team saw what apparently was a young private yawn. Now was there chance, possibly there only. The team leader gave the signal and the three men ran as steathily as they could to subdue the guards. It wasn't that long of a distance between them, but the team ran silently just in case.

One of the team members got to the Private first and smashed the butt of his CR-21 rifle in the privates face, knocking him to the ground. The young private fell on the ground with a dull thud. The team member quickly checked that the private was indeed unconscious, missing a few teeth, but unconscious. It was then that the team member looked up to see what his teammates had done.

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

The team saw the incoming Ascension Island defenders with their night-vision goggles. This was not good, not good at all. They would either have to eliminate them from the equation, or skirt them. Skirting them would take time, time they really didn't need spent on go around a patrol. The commander thought quickly. He decided on a plan of action that would either see them failing and dying, or succeding and eliminating the patrol.

He told the men to equip silencers to their CR-21s (OOC: The Commando Version has a threaded barrel.) and prepare to engage the enemy. They spreaded out over the hill, waiting for the Patrol to come to them.

OOC: It's cool, but you took out Ungar when the other three are literally five meters away and in plain sight...I woulda taken out them all. Now the alarm's gonna go.

IC:

Ungar went down hard, his head slamming into the ground as the lights went out quick. The other two were slow in responding, but Suresh was quick. He rolled to the side as the other two began to respond to the wraiths emerged from the night. Suresh reached for his waist belt first-he was the only veteran of the group, once serving in Kashmir. Rather than go directly for his gun, he instead pulled out an emergency flare. The other two were going for guns-though Suresh already knew they were all dead. Suresh somersaulted backwards to buy some time as he primed the flare, then let the device go.

The flare shot up a bright red slash against the black night sky, burning against the dust inherent in the atmosphere. Crews on duty in other sections began to respond...and the whole area began to wake up. Klaxons sounded from the main base, and crews began shouting out in Farsi and Hindi to one another.

-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean-

FUBAR. Fucked Up Beyond All Repair. That was the perfect word for the situation. The runway team had made a mistake, and it now they had to pay for it. A man near the sandbags had gotten off a flare. The member who had knocked out the private knew what the other two now to do. They aimed their rifles at the two raising their weapons up to fire and shot them down. They were dead before they hit the ground. The member who took out the private sighed. He knew what he had to do now. He aimed his rifle at the private's forehead and fired a single round.

With three of the men around the soundbag dead, the team moved quickly to get the fourth and final guard. They found him behind the sandbags on the ground not even making a grab for his gun, he seemed to be content with his fate. One of the team-members calmly took aim at his head and said "You're going to a better place." as he fired.

They didn't have time to contemplate the man's fate as fire from men running across the runway whizzed by them. The team-mates ran behind the sandbags and prepared their tools to sabotage the runway, although now it seemed futile. The three bangalore explosives were already prepped and ready to go, all they needed was the primer wire and to be throw on the runway. One of the team-mates peered over the sandbags and fired a few rounds at the incoming guards. The rounds missed the guards and they kept coming.

"We're good to go!" A Team member said. Then one of the team-members threw the bangalores onto the runway. He grabbed the wires and prepared to set off the bangalores and ruin the runway. He turned the handle and hoped for all he was worth that the bangalores went off.

OOC: I may be god-modding here, but you did say that there were no where near my soldiers.

-Diego Garcia, Indian Ocean-

*SNIP*

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

The team saw the incoming Ascension Island defenders with their night-vision goggles. This was not good, not good at all. They would either have to eliminate them from the equation, or skirt them. Skirting them would take time, time they really didn't need spent on go around a patrol. The commander thought quickly. He decided on a plan of action that would either see them failing and dying, or succeding and eliminating the patrol.

He told the men to equip silencers to their CR-21s (OOC: The Commando Version has a threaded barrel.) and prepare to engage the enemy. They spreaded out over the hill, waiting for the Patrol to come to them.
Landingston had known something was wrong from the get go, and here was the proof. Through his SUSAT scope he could just barely see the commandos moving. That would prove their doom.
"Second team get on the horn, we have intruders due north of our position on South Gannet Hill, just nearing the path to Wideawake base. After HQ is alerted to send all reinforcement sections available, hit them with all you've got while we creep in to finish them off while pinned." Classic fire-and-movement tactics; likely as effective now as ever, the commandos would regret breaking their camouflage discipline even so briefly as they had. Especially now that the first of the two LSWs' bursts rang out and the first LAW80 rockets headed their way, covering Lance Corporal Landingston's four-man fireteam as they closed with SA80A2 rifles lowered to fire reflexively; should the commandos risk putting their heads up against the suppressive team to investigate their eastern rear flank in time, before Landingston's team dropped on their butts with most malicious intent...

OCC: Kinda wondering how a regular soldier can see a special forces soldier trained in stealth moving about 20 or so meters away in the dead of night.

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

These soldiers were good, but they underestimated the DSF squad. They wanted the guards to come to them. Hell, this is almost exactly what they wanted, apart from the now alert base. Everything was going well.

The suppressing fire was a classic manuever that kept the suppressed team down while another rounded their flank. There in lied it's fault, it was well known, meaning the DSF knew how to counter it. First it invovled stopping the suppressing fire long enough for the DSF soldiers to move and flank the flankers. Signals were quickly sent to each soldier from their commander. They were going to use a series of flashbangs to stun the enemy and then use a smoke grenade to cover their movements. It should work, considering there was no wind tonight on Ascension.

"GO!" the commander yelled in Afrikaans. The soldiers threw 3 flashbangs directly infront of them and quickly lowered their heads to keep the effects of the grenades off them. After the grenades went off, two smoke-grenades were also quicky thrown on the ground around them.

OCC: Kinda wondering how a regular soldier can see a special forces soldier trained in stealth moving about 20 or so meters away in the dead of night.

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

These soldiers were good, but they underestimated the DSF squad. They wanted the guards to come to them. Hell, this is almost exactly what they wanted, apart from the now alert base. Everything was going well.

The suppressing fire was a classic manuever that kept the suppressed team down while another rounded their flank. There in lied it's fault, it was well known, meaning the DSF knew how to counter it. First it invovled stopping the suppressing fire long enough for the DSF soldiers to move and flank the flankers. Signals were quickly sent to each soldier from their commander. They were going to use a series of flashbangs to stun the enemy and then use a smoke grenade to cover their movements. It should work, considering there was no wind tonight on Ascension.

"GO!" the commander yelled in Afrikaans. The soldiers threw 3 flashbangs directly infront of them and quickly lowered their heads to keep the effects of the grenades off them. After the grenades went off, two smoke-grenades were also quicky thrown on the ground around them.
OOC: Mostly luck, although with night vision the SUSAT's supposed to be fairly l33t like that. Still, your smoke tactics should give me trouble and I was planning a bigger showdown than just getting you now anyway.:p Tag for the IC bit tomorrow; right now, I need my sleep after TGing Dirik so he knows where the thread to defend his claim is.

IC
*WHUMP-BWEEEEEE....* "AAH!" The screams of the stunned and blinded fire team echoed across the southern hills. But the maneuver had served its purpose; the enemy was now clearly moving, betrayed by the second smoke cloud despite their obvious stealth training holding otherwise, and the maneuver team was in position despite the misfortune of the fire team. LCpl. Landingston whispered, "Give 'em some of their own towards that smoke, but frag too this time," Referring to the patrol's own flash and fragmentation grenades being used against the latest smoke, where it was suspected the enemy team was, "then gut 'em. Fix bayonets and move in, controlled bursts using sights. NOW!"
The grenades arced in and detonated, first flash-bangs at the suspected enemy team and then frags to inflict some preliminary casualties. Then the Ascension Defense Force maneuver team began their attack by storming in with some preliminary three-round bursts from their L-85A2s in the enemy's suspected direction, before going into the smoke for CQB to finish the (hopefully) stunned and wounded enemy off. It was now a classic 'meeting engagement': both sides trying frantically to flank one another, and both apparently succeeding...

IC
*WHUMP-BWEEEEEE....* "AAH!" The screams of the stunned and blinded fire team echoed across the southern hills. But the maneuver had served its purpose; the enemy was now clearly moving, betrayed by the second smoke cloud despite their obvious stealth training holding otherwise, and the maneuver team was in position despite the misfortune of the fire team. LCpl. Landingston whispered, "Give 'em some of their own towards that smoke, but frag too this time," Referring to the patrol's own flash and fragmentation grenades being used against the latest smoke, where it was suspected the enemy team was, "then gut 'em. Fix bayonets and move in, controlled bursts using sights. NOW!"
The grenades arced in and detonated, first flash-bangs at the suspected enemy team and then frags to inflict some preliminary casualties. Then the Ascension Defense Force maneuver team began their attack by storming in with some preliminary three-round bursts from their L-85A2s in the enemy's suspected direction, before going into the smoke for CQB to finish the (hopefully) stunned and wounded enemy off. It was now a classic 'meeting engagement': both sides trying frantically to flank one another, and both apparently succeeding...

OOC: A Flashbang can blind and deafen a person for up to 7 seconds, I'll just say that your guys got lucky and were only blinded for about 2 1/2 seconds.

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

Whoever this soldier was, he was good. Unfortunately for him almost as soon as the Flashbangs went off the DSF were moving. They were using this momentary lull in the fighting to move in a flanking motion to wards the incoming soldiers. The DSF were hoping for that their advanced training and slightly more modern weapons gave them the edge.

Some of the DSF men heard a soft thud and immediately began to hit the dirt as the flashbang went off in the spot they were just occuping. The men began to move quicker as it became apparent that their smoke was leaving a big target for the Soldiers. They just got out of range as a couple of frags went off. One of the DSF grunted as shrapnel hit his shoulder, but he kept on running. They were close to the flanking soldiers, they could hear their feet as the pounded the ground. The DSF commander motioned quickly for his men to aim at the sounds. They began to fire almost as soon as they were told to aim.

OOC: Whups, didn't see this thread. Damage Control time.

IC:

With a blast, the bangalores went off on the runway to a complete success. Not the highest explosives, the bangalors through up shrapnel, dust, and a cloud-and still did their job. When the cloud settled, a hole in the paved runway now burrowed down into the ground. Too much damage for any of the aircraft to lift off. Not good for the embattled defenders.

They were still going to make the best job at defending the airbase as they could. Two SAWs had been set up behind metal obstructions-bullets and tracer fire began flying through the air towards the relative direction of the team as they were scrambling away from the runway. Spotlights were now coming on, and the base as a whole was illuminated in an icy, synthetic white sponge-a glaring target for any aircraft of the enemy, and a giant weakness inadvertantly produced by the defenders.

But they weren't noticing it. Instead, defenders began running out with an assortment of weapons-RPGs, AK-74s and AK-47s, several more LMGs, a couple snipers, two men carrying pirated American Mossberg 500 shotguns, and other relatively dangerous devices if fired in the direction of a human being.

OOC: A Flashbang can blind and deafen a person for up to 7 seconds, I'll just say that your guys got lucky and were only blinded for about 2 1/2 seconds.

-Ascension Island, Atlantic Ocean-

Whoever this soldier was, he was good. Unfortunately for him almost as soon as the Flashbangs went off the DSF were moving. They were using this momentary lull in the fighting to move in a flanking motion to wards the incoming soldiers. The DSF were hoping for that their advanced training and slightly more modern weapons gave them the edge.

Some of the DSF men heard a soft thud and immediately began to hit the dirt as the flashbang went off in the spot they were just occuping. The men began to move quicker as it became apparent that their smoke was leaving a big target for the Soldiers. They just got out of range as a couple of frags went off. One of the DSF grunted as shrapnel hit his shoulder, but he kept on running. They were close to the flanking soldiers, they could hear their feet as the pounded the ground. The DSF commander motioned quickly for his men to aim at the sounds. They began to fire almost as soon as they were told to aim.
OOC: I'm aware of that, but I thought you were just throwing them at my firing team left behind by my flanking guys.:confused: They were supposed to have gotten some separation from the firing team before the balloon went up. Guess not; not that it matters now since suchlike confusion's normal in this sort of thing and I want a bigger fight anyway...
IC
How had it gone so wrong? HOW!?
The plan had been according to doctrine. Leave one team in... Place, for base-of-fire. Take other team around to... flank... and prosecute. Lance Corporal Jack landingston thought frenetically, since before long he wouldn't have enough brain function to do that even. The DSF special forces' barrage had cut his team down almost to the man, the last two still blazing away with what three-round bursts they could in the seconds remaining for their lives.
Yes, seconds. Landingston knew there would be no mercy here, for he would've given none himself had the tables turned like he'd planned. What... went... wrong? The damn flash-bangs didn't even last their full.... He never finished that thought, although his last even subconscious thought was hope that the screaming base sirens and rattling fire from the formerly-stunned men might yet retrieve the situation. Might...

OOC: I'm aware of that, but I thought you were just throwing them at my firing team left behind by my flanking guys.:confused: They were supposed to have gotten some separation from the firing team before the balloon went up. Guess not; not that it matters now since suchlike confusion's normal in this sort of thing and I want a bigger fight anyway...
IC
How had it gone so wrong? HOW!?
The plan had been according to doctrine. Leave one team in... Place, for base-of-fire. Take other team around to... flank... and prosecute. Lance Corporal Jack landingston thought frenetically, since before long he wouldn't have enough brain function to do that even. The DSF special forces' barrage had cut his team down almost to the man, the last two still blazing away with what three-round bursts they could in the seconds remaining for their lives.
Yes, seconds. Landingston knew there would be no mercy here, for he would've given none himself had the tables turned like he'd planned. What... went... wrong? The damn flash-bangs didn't even last their full.... He never finished that thought, although his last even subconscious thought was hope that the screaming base sirens and rattling fire from the formerly-stunned men might yet retrieve the situation. Might...

Ascension Island

The DSF saw that their plan had worked and that the flanking team had been cut down rather visciously. The remaining soldiers of the team were either praying or spraying randomly at the DSF. The DSF soldiers calmly aimed and fired at the last vestages of the team in front of them. Not pausing to check and see if they had killed the flanking team or not, the DSF moved quickly to flank the Former-Suppresion Squad.

One of the DSF members thought to look at the time quickly and was surprised to learn that barely 2 minutes had passed since the fire-fight had broken out. 'The DSF are the cream of the crop in the Dominion.' his father had once told him. "No kidding" he wishpered to himself in Afrikaans.

OOC: Whups, didn't see this thread. Damage Control time.

IC:

With a blast, the bangalores went off on the runway to a complete success. Not the highest explosives, the bangalors through up shrapnel, dust, and a cloud-and still did their job. When the cloud settled, a hole in the paved runway now burrowed down into the ground. Too much damage for any of the aircraft to lift off. Not good for the embattled defenders.

They were still going to make the best job at defending the airbase as they could. Two SAWs had been set up behind metal obstructions-bullets and tracer fire began flying through the air towards the relative direction of the team as they were scrambling away from the runway. Spotlights were now coming on, and the base as a whole was illuminated in an icy, synthetic white sponge-a glaring target for any aircraft of the enemy, and a giant weakness inadvertantly produced by the defenders.

But they weren't noticing it. Instead, defenders began running out with an assortment of weapons-RPGs, AK-74s and AK-47s, several more LMGs, a couple snipers, two men carrying pirated American Mossberg 500 shotguns, and other relatively dangerous devices if fired in the direction of a human being.

Diego Garcia

The plan had worked perfectly. There was now a large hole in the runway, obstructing any air-craft that wanted to land or take-off from there. In essensce, the Diego Garcia defenders lost their only advantage. Without it, it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to the will of whoever was attacking them. But, these thoughts were the farthest things from the DSF solderis minds.

The only thing on their minds right now was 'GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE'. As more and more lead starting flying there way, the DSF soldiers started to actually worry that they may not make it out alive. But they quickened their pace and dropped smoke Grenades to try and mask their escape. Their commander barked an order onto the radio to the other team near the Gas-Tanks. The team hoped the other team would be waiting for them at the Zodiac.

Diego Garcia

A platoon was quick on the heels of the spec ops soldiers, AK74s blaring out cries of thunder and pain as bullets flew around. The smoke grenades did presnet a bit of a problem-but to overcome it, the platoon spread out, and with no fire coming in against them, they cleared the grenades and kept up the pace. Well-trained and bred physically, the soldiers were fast, and carried little (little was needed on the small island)-allowing them to make fast time. They kept their heads low and guns forward, barrels singing the sickeningly sweet song of Gabriel.

Ascension Island

The DSF saw that their plan had worked and that the flanking team had been cut down rather visciously. The remaining soldiers of the team were either praying or spraying randomly at the DSF. The DSF soldiers calmly aimed and fired at the last vestages of the team in front of them. Not pausing to check and see if they had killed the flanking team or not, the DSF moved quickly to flank the Former-Suppresion Squad.

One of the DSF members thought to look at the time quickly and was surprised to learn that barely 2 minutes had passed since the fire-fight had broken out. 'The DSF are the cream of the crop in the Dominion.' his father had once told him. "No kidding" he wishpered to himself in Afrikaans.

*SNIP*
Firefight Scene
Down to their last L86A2 Magazines, the two support gunners plus their two riflemen decided that using their last smoke grenades to cover a hasty retreat was in order. Launching them at what they thought was the DSF team, though that was hard to tell of course, the soldiers leapfrogged back to the Northwest while alternately firing and bounding away from the enemy. A rout would do no good and, in fact, get them all killed; but an orderly retreat might let them rejoin the other 100 base defense personnel mustering already...

Wideawake Airfield
Land Rovers of every description ran frantically along the runway as four-man teams deployed to counter the expected axis of advance for the DSF. Half the teams were moving to the last reported position of the lost patrol, taking up machine gun and rocket positions when they arrived at their designated stations, while the other half were to remain mobile and patrol the base perimeter in (likely) case of an unexpected attack. The sacrifice of four soldiers in half as many minutes wouldn't go in vain if the Ascension Private Defense Force could help it...

Diego Garcia

A platoon was quick on the heels of the spec ops soldiers, AK74s blaring out cries of thunder and pain as bullets flew around. The smoke grenades did presnet a bit of a problem-but to overcome it, the platoon spread out, and with no fire coming in against them, they cleared the grenades and kept up the pace. Well-trained and bred physically, the soldiers were fast, and carried little (little was needed on the small island)-allowing them to make fast time. They kept their heads low and guns forward, barrels singing the sickeningly sweet song of Gabriel.

Diego Garcia

The Team knew everything was going to hell, but the adrenaline wouldn't let them slow down from their extremely fast pace. After a while they knew only a small group of soldiers was following them. These men were fast gaining on them and it would be only a matter of time before they caught up. There only option was to ambush the incoming soldiers. It was risky, but running was no longer a viable option. The team deployed their final smoke grenades and quickly melted into the bush, hiding away from the enemy.

Firefight Scene
Down to their last L86A2 Magazines, the two support gunners plus their two riflemen decided that using their last smoke grenades to cover a hasty retreat was in order. Launching them at what they thought was the DSF team, though that was hard to tell of course, the soldiers leapfrogged back to the Northwest while alternately firing and bounding away from the enemy. A rout would do no good and, in fact, get them all killed; but an orderly retreat might let them rejoin the other 100 base defense personnel mustering already...

Wideawake Airfield
Land Rovers of every description ran frantically along the runway as four-man teams deployed to counter the expected axis of advance for the DSF. Half the teams were moving to the last reported position of the lost patrol, taking up machine gun and rocket positions when they arrived at their designated stations, while the other half were to remain mobile and patrol the base perimeter in (likely) case of an unexpected attack. The sacrifice of four soldiers in half as many minutes wouldn't go in vain if the Ascension Private Defense Force could help it...

Ascension Island

As the suppresion team took off towards the base, the DSF squad gathered on top of the Hill they had just been fighting over. One of the men was applying a small bandage to the shrapnel wound on his shoulder. The commander had out his binoculars/night-vision Goggles and was looking at the departing soldeirs and at Wideawake base, which was now Wide awake. The commander blanched at the bad pun. He pulled out a radio and spoke into it.

"Situation A is FUBAR. Recommending that target be neutralized via missle strikes, over." He said. There was some static over the channel, but the commander wasn't long in waiting for his reply.

"Roger, missles will be launched at the hangars and the runway. I would suggest you stay were you are commander." The Voice said across the radio. There was a loud click and the radio was turned off. The Valour Class Frigates 5km off shore launched off three Missles towards Wideawake. Two were aimed at the hangars, while one was aimed at the runway itself. The sky was suddenly abright with the tails of the three missles.

Diego Garcia

The soldiers were like wolves, chasing prey. As the pursuees dropped smoke grenades, the platoon hurdled over the smoke quickly-but found noone awaiting them.

"Spread out, teams of four," the platoon leader, a lieutenant, ordered, cocking his AK-74. "They've got to be still around."

The platoon began spreading out, guns up and raised...looking for the prey.

OOC: I am wondering how large this Platoon is. Wikipedia says a platoon is 30 to 50 soldiers.

IC:

Diego Garcia

The Platoon stopped, just as expected. They spreaded out, just as expected. All was going well for the ambush. Even though no order was given, the DSF soldiers attached Silencers to their CR-21 rifles. Silence and surprise were very much needed in this ambush.

The Soldiers knew what to do once it was time to ambush the enemy. The waited for the teams to get far enough away from each other. With that achieved the soldiers only had to pick a team and begin his gruesome task. One soldier fixed his sights on a group near him. He aimed at the man that was farthest away from him and pulled the trigger.

OOC: I make a platoon usually about 50 for standard stuff, but since this is a boondocks base with limited crew, let's call it 24.

IC:

One of the groups of four has spread a bit further out. The soldier in the front was hacking his way through the brush with a combat knife, the other three following with rifles out. The three passed behind some brush as the other moved out of the same brush-and fell. It was a quick motion, but something was obviously wrong. The man was trembling-but not out of fear. The type of tremble was that of the icy hand of death.

One of the team fired four shots into the air with his AK-74, then the three all too positions in the brush, looking out and trying to spot what was going on. The man on the ground was clearly dead-and there was clearly a neat little bloody hole through his temple.

IC:

As the AK fire sounded into the sky, the soldier calmly took aim at another one of the team-members heads. He knew his comrades were now doing the same since the entire platoon was now alerted. He pulled the trigger three times, each time re-aiming at a different target. He hoped they all went down as cleanly as the first.

The entire first group was down-killed by bullets. Others had begun to see the damages as other bullets had come in, killing a grand total of eight so far. The others had gotten down below the brush, now firing blindly towards the direction where killing bullets had seemingly been coming from.

Diego Garcia

The Team knew everything was going to hell, but the adrenaline wouldn't let them slow down from their extremely fast pace. After a while they knew only a small group of soldiers was following them. These men were fast gaining on them and it would be only a matter of time before they caught up. There only option was to ambush the incoming soldiers. It was risky, but running was no longer a viable option. The team deployed their final smoke grenades and quickly melted into the bush, hiding away from the enemy.



Ascension Island

As the suppresion team took off towards the base, the DSF squad gathered on top of the Hill they had just been fighting over. One of the men was applying a small bandage to the shrapnel wound on his shoulder. The commander had out his binoculars/night-vision Goggles and was looking at the departing soldeirs and at Wideawake base, which was now Wide awake. The commander blanched at the bad pun. He pulled out a radio and spoke into it.

"Situation A is FUBAR. Recommending that target be neutralized via missle strikes, over." He said. There was some static over the channel, but the commander wasn't long in waiting for his reply.

"Roger, missles will be launched at the hangars and the runway. I would suggest you stay were you are commander." The Voice said across the radio. There was a loud click and the radio was turned off. The Valour Class Frigates 5km off shore launched off three Missles towards Wideawake. Two were aimed at the hangars, while one was aimed at the runway itself. The sky was suddenly abright with the tails of the three missles.
OOC: A brief one since my other MAJOR thread is calling soon, and I at least want to have an IC reply in the most important threads I've got going before I crash as I really need to. Although Ascension's a bomber-capable base, DG is the only one with active units stationed there AFAIK so I'll just do a "local special" prop trainer COIN conversion instead; OK? I figure you need to be shooting at something...
IC
Although they did not know of the situation in Diego Garcia, it honestly wouldn't have helped Ascension's defenders if they did since they didn't have anywhere near the diverse assets of the Indian Ocean's former "lily pad" for US and British forces way back. The hangars were summarily wrecked, and although two prop trainer planes converted with 12.7mm machine gun pods underwing managed to get free, the remaining six were stranded since the missile had impacted the runway dead-on and rendered it useless.
Worse, two of those were destroyed as missiles soon slammed into their hangars afterward. The base was of course still defended by some one-hundred much-angered mercenaries/militiamen (depending on one's view of the anarcho-capitalist conglomerate ruling Ascension now), but their main advantage was soon becoming irrelevant. Still, before that, the trainers closed in at minimum sane altitude on the last position of the suppressive team still making off from the DSF; orders being to machine-gun the smoke-grenade-marked area until literally ALL ammo was expended. Ideally, those responsible for this would pay before the Valours could bring their Umkhonto SAM's to bear. The planes lined up on the general area and split to cross each other's paths loosely, firing as they began their approaches and aiming to break hard once each pass was done until there was no more 12.7mm ammunition left, or all those responsible were terminated with extreme prejudice. Whichever came first...

OOC: A brief one since my other MAJOR thread is calling soon, and I at least want to have an IC reply in the most important threads I've got going before I crash as I really need to. Although Ascension's a bomber-capable base, DG is the only one with active units stationed there AFAIK so I'll just do a "local special" prop trainer COIN conversion instead; OK? I figure you need to be shooting at something...
IC
Although they did not know of the situation in Diego Garcia, it honestly wouldn't have helped Ascension's defenders if they did since they didn't have anywhere near the diverse assets of the Indian Ocean's former "lily pad" for US and British forces way back. The hangars were summarily wrecked, and although two prop trainer planes converted with 12.7mm machine gun pods underwing managed to get free, the remaining six were stranded since the missile had impacted the runway dead-on and rendered it useless.
Worse, two of those were destroyed as missiles soon slammed into their hangars afterward. The base was of course still defended by some one-hundred much-angered mercenaries/militiamen (depending on one's view of the anarcho-capitalist conglomerate ruling Ascension now), but their main advantage was soon becoming irrelevant. Still, before that, the trainers closed in at minimum sane altitude on the last position of the suppressive team still making off from the DSF; orders being to machine-gun the smoke-grenade-marked area until literally ALL ammo was expended. Ideally, those responsible for this would pay before the Valours could bring their Umkhonto SAM's to bear. The planes lined up on the general area and split to cross each other's paths loosely, firing as they began their approaches and aiming to break hard once each pass was done until there was no more 12.7mm ammunition left, or all those responsible were terminated with extreme prejudice. Whichever came first...

OOC: Ok. I thought they would have something. On Diego Garcia, I wanted to save the planes because they might be useful for R&D, I was thinking of making a Dominion Bomber Aircraft based off the B-52 and since Diego Garcia has one...

Ascension Island

The men on the hill watched as the missles hit the base. A grim smile was on each of their faces. They had spent roughly 5 minutes on the Island, the situation had gone FUBAR, and now the base was being hit by missles. The soldiers knew they would get reprimanded back at base, but they didn't care. They had been the tip of the Spear, and were among the first to see action.

Suddenly, .50 rounds starting to land all around them. They looked up and saw what appeared to be two trainer aircraft shooting at them. The men started to spring away from the hill top into the brush down at the base of the hill, hoping to dodge the fire from the planes as the Commander shouted to the radio for SAM Missles. They weren't long in coming.

The entire first group was down-killed by bullets. Others had begun to see the damages as other bullets had come in, killing a grand total of eight so far. The others had gotten down below the brush, now firing blindly towards the direction where killing bullets had seemingly been coming from.

Diego Garcia

Pitiful. The enemy platoon didn't understand the rigors of warfare. Sure, they were trained to fire a gun, and possibly to understand some basic tactics. But the DSF knew that if all hell broke loose among a unit such as this, it would react irrationaly. And that's exactly what they are doing right now.

They were way off in their aiming at their supposed locations. The DSF had almost no fear of being shot, due to their aiming. In fact, one of the soldiers actually moved out of his spot, went to another spot, and was not seen or heard due to their firing. The DSF now took their sweet time in locating the Platoon's Soldiers. They made each round count.

OOC: Ok. I thought they would have something. On Diego Garcia, I wanted to save the planes because they might be useful for R&D, I was thinking of making a Dominion Bomber Aircraft based off the B-52 and since Diego Garcia has one...

Ascension Island

The men on the hill watched as the missles hit the base. A grim smile was on each of their faces. They had spent roughly 5 minutes on the Island, the situation had gone FUBAR, and now the base was being hit by missles. The soldiers knew they would get reprimanded back at base, but they didn't care. They had been the tip of the Spear, and were among the first to see action.

Suddenly, .50 rounds starting to land all around them. They looked up and saw what appeared to be two trainer aircraft shooting at them. The men started to spring away from the hill top into the brush down at the base of the hill, hoping to dodge the fire from the planes as the Commander shouted to the radio for SAM Missles. They weren't long in coming.



Diego Garcia

Pitiful. The enemy platoon didn't understand the rigors of warfare. Sure, they were trained to fire a gun, and possibly to understand some basic tactics. But the DSF knew that if all hell broke loose among a unit such as this, it would react irrationaly. And that's exactly what they are doing right now.

They were way off in their aiming at their supposed locations. The DSF had almost no fear of being shot, due to their aiming. In fact, one of the soldiers actually moved out of his spot, went to another spot, and was not seen or heard due to their firing. The DSF now took their sweet time in locating the Platoon's Soldiers. They made each round count.

OOC: If you'd like, I could sell you some B-52H or B-2 models (I have the next line of advanced American bomber in mind to start up soon).

IC:

Diego Garcia

The men were dropping like flies-sixteen of the original twenty-four were now permanently out of combat-and life. The others were getting frantic, firing sporadically and sweating profusely. It wasn't looking good. One of the men looked around, and suddenly saw something that caught his eye-a rustling...followed by a flash of skin settling into a position. It had been by freak chance that he had looked up, and the man was not going to miss his opportunity.

The soldier removed a frag grenade from his bandolier, than dropped straight to the ground as he let the five-second charge tick down three seconds. He then hurled the grenade with all his force at the location-just as the timer ran out. It reached the rustling brush, exploding, and sending shrapnel violently everywhere, scissoring straight through excess brush. The soldier than began unloading a full AK-74 clip into the position.

Diego Garcia

Boom! The sound of the frag grenade going off overshadowed the fire from the Platoon. The unfortunate DSF soldier who was caught in the blast was lucky. He had gotten only a small amount, but that amount had done it's work. Shrapnel was now imbeded in his arms, helmet, and chest-plate. Much of his body hurt from the explosion itself and he could tell he was bleeding from numerous wounds. But, he was alive. For how long, he didn't know since AK fire was coming his way, just barely whizzing over his head. He tried not to moan in pain and tried to keep his body flat agains the ground.

The other DSF soldiers knew exactly what had happened and had pretty much seen it all from there vantage point. Their training dictated that emotions were to be kept in check at all times, but now with one of their comrades wounded, possibly dead, they reached the breaking point. They fired as fast as they could, while keeping their aim good, at the prone soldiers who started dropping flies.