Aequatio
28-01-2008, 08:29
Whitman's Landing, Volstad, Haleigha Sea
The side of the low-rise office exploded as the missile's warhead detonated as shattered glass and shredded steel rained down onto the snow-covered street, the AH-72F Viper-Foxtrot attack helicopter peeled off as it returned to one of the Adams-class amphibious ships in the bay. The building had been used as a blocking position by the rebels leading into the city's downtown core against the ARMC landing at the small-craft shipyard at the bottom of the hill, with the threat greatly reduced, Delta Company from 2/83d Marines was finally able to secure an avenue of approach inside the city.
Staff Sergeant Bill Chappell, leading half of his rifle platoon to the wall of a multi-level parking garage, looked over the edge towards where a group of rebel gunmen had rushed in their withdrawal from their former positions, the rifle squad poured on the fire against the rebel position until the senior NCO signaled one of the marines as they caught up with the others, "Sanderson, get a round on that position, I'll over you!" He shouted over the continuous fire as the staff sergeant took aimed shots with his G109 rifle as the young marine waited for his teammate to load one of the orange-banded 90mm "squash-head" rounds into the tube of the MAWL-90 recoilless rifle.
"HESH... Up!" The assistant yelled as he tapped the gunner on the shoulder and pointed at the target area, a doorway beside a building's loading dock and the marine stood up to take aim, "Fire!" Screamed the lance corporal as the bright flash lit up the area with the massive concussion as the round was lobbed at the loading bay and exploded violently, throwing mangled bodies and splinters of crates and palettes forth from the doorway.
Using one of the platoon's MG260 machine gun teams as a base of fire, the section led by Chappell sprinted across to the loading dock's doorway and stacked up against the wall, the sergeant peering inside quickly, noting the wounded rebels on the ground and the door to the engineer office at the back of the dock. Sure that the loading dock was safe, he stepped forward through the threshold with his rifle aimed from the shoulder and quickly "double-tapped" one of the wounded gunmen as he attempted to raise a handgun at the marines following him. The staff sergeant pointed to the door, not saying a word, as the squad's two fireteams split as they trotted to the door leading inside the engineer's room, Chappell taking a position at the door and listening inside as he heard voices chattering and weapons being readied.
A series of hand signals were given to the sergeant leading the fireteam on the opposite side of the doorway's arch explaining his orders, "Flash and breach," Was the gist of his meaning as the NCO prepared one of the magnesium-based, non-lethal grenades in his hand while another marine, switching his G109 rifle for one of the M1210 shotguns, based off the Cravanian C1210 design, and blasted the hinges of the door and kicked it open before falling to the side as the sergeant pulled the pin off the grenade and tossed it inside. The blast was deafening as the grenade detonated and a riflemen and grenadier rushed into the room, and opened fire on the pair of gunmen stunned by the blast, quickly dispatching them and splattering their blood against the wall. Chappell entered behind them as a third rebel stepped out from behind another doorway and fired at the marines, striking the grenadier and dropping him before being killed himself by a hail of small arms fire, "Corpsman!" Yelled one of the marines as the wounded grenadier was tended to while the rest of the squad searched the small office sections for their target, the staff sergeant himself finding a man in a white office dress shirt and black trousers bounded at the wrists and gagged with a silk necktie, Chappell pulled the gag off and smiled, "Michael Fowler I presume?"
The man nodded, "Of course, I was wondering when you people were going to arrive for me," He said as one of the marines slashed the ropes binding his wrists, "I have to speak with your commanding officer and his staff, I have intel for him that is quite valuable," Fowler could not help himself from grinning as he was walked outside to a waiting Stallion jeep, it was pure luck that he alone was aware of an entire marine brigade already en route to Volstad, lest the past twenty four hours might have been different.
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Whitman's Landing, Volstad, Haleigha Sea, 24 hours prior to D-Day
The offices for the Aequatian Republic Intelligence Agency in Whitman's Landing offered Fowler a much-needed change of pace from the busy, urban lifestyle back home in Domus that had led to his first heart attack. Twenty years of field work in the human intelligence collection discipline for the agency's counterinsurgency division took its toll heavily on the middle-aged agent and his transfer to the Volstad offices was performed by his supervisor after being advised to do so by the department medical officer in order to save his life. Michael was never one for social interactions, preferring to remained "faithfully married to work" as he would tell his comrades when asked, and was always the most professional agent within any department in which he worked.
However, a particularly long and intense case investigating a suspected group of Neo-Nazi terrorists in the hive city of Domus led to not only the rape and death of his young partner once her cover had been compromised, but a number of psychological problems he choose to ignore and repress until his heart attack afforded him the change of scenery, all the way to the quiet colony of Volstad in Northwestern Haven. Founded originally as a whaling station and fisheries centre for the Aequatian Republic, the colony grew as the whaling industry failed and tourism took its former place, affording the Volstaders with a level of economic independence which led to the right to self-govern themselves in the 1980s. As of late though, the colony had seen a lot of importing of leftist materials and publications from the nearby socialist haven of Edolia, although not directly responsible, the idea of a Marxist state cast off from the motherland drew many to its call as the movement grew from little more than a student union to a island-wide political party.
The politics of the island had always had a heavy hand, but only in a figurative way until the younger generation of socialists started to take the reign of the "Volstad People's Movement" and encouraged the use of physical intimidation against the local population when elections rolled around for the governor's seat and the Volstad House of Commons. Entire suburbs of Whitman's Landing and surrounding townships were held hostage by fear and voted in a powerful minority of VPM members to the island's parliament which forced the Centrist party into forming a coalition movement in order to avoid an embarrassing vote of non-confidence. Never categorized as a threat proper to the Republic's authority on the island, the Volstad Security Force and the local ARIA office did little to investigate the methods use by the VPM until the arrival of Special Agent Michael Fowler, who filed a scathing report outlining not only the actions of the young socialists and their abuse of the island's democratic system, but of the inactivity of the local authorities to protect the nation's interests in the colony.
The island authorities were known to be lax in their enforcement of the Republic's laws on Volstad thanks to the rather isolated position they were in, however, until the publishing of Fowler's report, it remained a secret that they were in fact working in full cooperation with the VPM actions and supported them in order to maintain full control over the colony by fully abusing the system. The report threatened not only the work and goals of the VPM political wing, but those of the local authorities that supported them in their bid to wrest control away from the national leadership, and a plan of action was started with the armed take over of the island's House of Commons, Governor's House and numerous other key points of infrastructure, including the militia arsenals, which led to the arming of the VPM rebels to a higher degree. Fowler, along with a number of other prominent members of society on Volstad, was quickly rounded up by roving gangs of masked gunmen over the island and brought to secured locations, completely unaware of the soon-to-arrive 83d Marine Expeditionary Brigade undergoing a patrol cruise in Northern Havenic waters.
Realizing their poor timing for their actions, the leaders of the Volstad insurrection initiated plans to defend their newly-seized island against the more than eventual liberation at the hands of the Aequatian Republic Navy and Marine Corps. Fowler himself bound and gagged with his own tie in an office tower as the waiting began.
The side of the low-rise office exploded as the missile's warhead detonated as shattered glass and shredded steel rained down onto the snow-covered street, the AH-72F Viper-Foxtrot attack helicopter peeled off as it returned to one of the Adams-class amphibious ships in the bay. The building had been used as a blocking position by the rebels leading into the city's downtown core against the ARMC landing at the small-craft shipyard at the bottom of the hill, with the threat greatly reduced, Delta Company from 2/83d Marines was finally able to secure an avenue of approach inside the city.
Staff Sergeant Bill Chappell, leading half of his rifle platoon to the wall of a multi-level parking garage, looked over the edge towards where a group of rebel gunmen had rushed in their withdrawal from their former positions, the rifle squad poured on the fire against the rebel position until the senior NCO signaled one of the marines as they caught up with the others, "Sanderson, get a round on that position, I'll over you!" He shouted over the continuous fire as the staff sergeant took aimed shots with his G109 rifle as the young marine waited for his teammate to load one of the orange-banded 90mm "squash-head" rounds into the tube of the MAWL-90 recoilless rifle.
"HESH... Up!" The assistant yelled as he tapped the gunner on the shoulder and pointed at the target area, a doorway beside a building's loading dock and the marine stood up to take aim, "Fire!" Screamed the lance corporal as the bright flash lit up the area with the massive concussion as the round was lobbed at the loading bay and exploded violently, throwing mangled bodies and splinters of crates and palettes forth from the doorway.
Using one of the platoon's MG260 machine gun teams as a base of fire, the section led by Chappell sprinted across to the loading dock's doorway and stacked up against the wall, the sergeant peering inside quickly, noting the wounded rebels on the ground and the door to the engineer office at the back of the dock. Sure that the loading dock was safe, he stepped forward through the threshold with his rifle aimed from the shoulder and quickly "double-tapped" one of the wounded gunmen as he attempted to raise a handgun at the marines following him. The staff sergeant pointed to the door, not saying a word, as the squad's two fireteams split as they trotted to the door leading inside the engineer's room, Chappell taking a position at the door and listening inside as he heard voices chattering and weapons being readied.
A series of hand signals were given to the sergeant leading the fireteam on the opposite side of the doorway's arch explaining his orders, "Flash and breach," Was the gist of his meaning as the NCO prepared one of the magnesium-based, non-lethal grenades in his hand while another marine, switching his G109 rifle for one of the M1210 shotguns, based off the Cravanian C1210 design, and blasted the hinges of the door and kicked it open before falling to the side as the sergeant pulled the pin off the grenade and tossed it inside. The blast was deafening as the grenade detonated and a riflemen and grenadier rushed into the room, and opened fire on the pair of gunmen stunned by the blast, quickly dispatching them and splattering their blood against the wall. Chappell entered behind them as a third rebel stepped out from behind another doorway and fired at the marines, striking the grenadier and dropping him before being killed himself by a hail of small arms fire, "Corpsman!" Yelled one of the marines as the wounded grenadier was tended to while the rest of the squad searched the small office sections for their target, the staff sergeant himself finding a man in a white office dress shirt and black trousers bounded at the wrists and gagged with a silk necktie, Chappell pulled the gag off and smiled, "Michael Fowler I presume?"
The man nodded, "Of course, I was wondering when you people were going to arrive for me," He said as one of the marines slashed the ropes binding his wrists, "I have to speak with your commanding officer and his staff, I have intel for him that is quite valuable," Fowler could not help himself from grinning as he was walked outside to a waiting Stallion jeep, it was pure luck that he alone was aware of an entire marine brigade already en route to Volstad, lest the past twenty four hours might have been different.
----------
Whitman's Landing, Volstad, Haleigha Sea, 24 hours prior to D-Day
The offices for the Aequatian Republic Intelligence Agency in Whitman's Landing offered Fowler a much-needed change of pace from the busy, urban lifestyle back home in Domus that had led to his first heart attack. Twenty years of field work in the human intelligence collection discipline for the agency's counterinsurgency division took its toll heavily on the middle-aged agent and his transfer to the Volstad offices was performed by his supervisor after being advised to do so by the department medical officer in order to save his life. Michael was never one for social interactions, preferring to remained "faithfully married to work" as he would tell his comrades when asked, and was always the most professional agent within any department in which he worked.
However, a particularly long and intense case investigating a suspected group of Neo-Nazi terrorists in the hive city of Domus led to not only the rape and death of his young partner once her cover had been compromised, but a number of psychological problems he choose to ignore and repress until his heart attack afforded him the change of scenery, all the way to the quiet colony of Volstad in Northwestern Haven. Founded originally as a whaling station and fisheries centre for the Aequatian Republic, the colony grew as the whaling industry failed and tourism took its former place, affording the Volstaders with a level of economic independence which led to the right to self-govern themselves in the 1980s. As of late though, the colony had seen a lot of importing of leftist materials and publications from the nearby socialist haven of Edolia, although not directly responsible, the idea of a Marxist state cast off from the motherland drew many to its call as the movement grew from little more than a student union to a island-wide political party.
The politics of the island had always had a heavy hand, but only in a figurative way until the younger generation of socialists started to take the reign of the "Volstad People's Movement" and encouraged the use of physical intimidation against the local population when elections rolled around for the governor's seat and the Volstad House of Commons. Entire suburbs of Whitman's Landing and surrounding townships were held hostage by fear and voted in a powerful minority of VPM members to the island's parliament which forced the Centrist party into forming a coalition movement in order to avoid an embarrassing vote of non-confidence. Never categorized as a threat proper to the Republic's authority on the island, the Volstad Security Force and the local ARIA office did little to investigate the methods use by the VPM until the arrival of Special Agent Michael Fowler, who filed a scathing report outlining not only the actions of the young socialists and their abuse of the island's democratic system, but of the inactivity of the local authorities to protect the nation's interests in the colony.
The island authorities were known to be lax in their enforcement of the Republic's laws on Volstad thanks to the rather isolated position they were in, however, until the publishing of Fowler's report, it remained a secret that they were in fact working in full cooperation with the VPM actions and supported them in order to maintain full control over the colony by fully abusing the system. The report threatened not only the work and goals of the VPM political wing, but those of the local authorities that supported them in their bid to wrest control away from the national leadership, and a plan of action was started with the armed take over of the island's House of Commons, Governor's House and numerous other key points of infrastructure, including the militia arsenals, which led to the arming of the VPM rebels to a higher degree. Fowler, along with a number of other prominent members of society on Volstad, was quickly rounded up by roving gangs of masked gunmen over the island and brought to secured locations, completely unaware of the soon-to-arrive 83d Marine Expeditionary Brigade undergoing a patrol cruise in Northern Havenic waters.
Realizing their poor timing for their actions, the leaders of the Volstad insurrection initiated plans to defend their newly-seized island against the more than eventual liberation at the hands of the Aequatian Republic Navy and Marine Corps. Fowler himself bound and gagged with his own tie in an office tower as the waiting began.