NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I've decided to create an elite military unit but rather than the same old genetically enhanced steroid pumping super soldiers, I've decided to try something else. I'm going to need someone to play as the enemy force for this RP The first post is just going to be an introduction, I'll outline their first mission in the post below .

''The Count's Own Rifles...Atten....tion!''

As soon as the last syllable of the command was called all 108 men brought their legs in, knees at waist height and dropped their legs to the ground, producing the loud but unison sound of boots hitting the pavement of the parade square. Their sound was immaculate, not one soldier's timing was off. Hours upon hours of time in the drill hall combined with threats of everything imaginable from cleaning toilets to polishing the entire battalion's boots ensured that every soldier learned each movement of drill quickly and accurately. Some people would dispute the effectiveness of having a well built man screaming obscenities at you at the top of his lungs until you get things right. Not one soldier in the unit would though, they all knew what it was like and how effective it really was.

''The Count's Own Rifles...Stand At...Ease!''

This time each man brought his leg to waist height but this time they extended them outwards, again allowing their feet to drop to the pavement producing the same dull thud. Each soldier kept their head firmly pointed forward, eyes fixed. No man moved a muscle, despite what was occurring to their front. The unit's Regimental Sergeant Major who had previously called the drill had saluted the unit's commanding officer, had a brief discussion, saluted him again and marched of the parade square, leaving the unit to the officer who stood in front of them. Those in the front could hear him grunt slightly before he called out,

''The Count's Own Rifles...Atten...tion.''

Once again each man performed the drill movement producing the same thud as before. The officer's voice was scratchy and grumbly but very loud.

''I hope it isn't too hot for you pussies, cause I don't want to see any god damn quitters.''

Each soldier was profusely sweating. They were in full ceremonial uniform standing on the black pavement of an outdoor parade square in the heat of the summer sun. Each soldier could succumb to the heat at any moment but each man knew that to be a part of the unit meant that rather than falling out early when the first symptoms of heat related conditions arose they were expected to remain on parade until they passed out or until they were dismissed.

The commanding officer opened a pocket on his dress uniform's tunic, producing several cards which appeared to have a speech written on them. He cleared his throat and began to read.

''You are an elite unit, unique in this world. There is no other unit like you. No unit combines what we have taught you and applied it to two different nations. Consider yourselves special and elite...''

The officer began to chuckle, tearing the cards up in his hands.

''That right there is proper bullshit. You are nothing yet but bags of shit. You are not special, not elite not anything but tools. You have not yet proven yourselves and don't think everything you have done makes you anything because it doesn't.''

The officer was referring to the sixth month long training they had nearly completed. It was like nothing else an Orbathian of Throppe soldier had ever endured. It had only recently been developed and was unique to The Count's Own Rifles. The training the had just completed focused heavily on dress, drill, deportment, marksmanship, unarmed combat and above all, bravery. The Count's Own Rifles was created to be both an elite special forces unit and a ceremonially unit.

''You can all breathe a big sign of bloody relief, today is your last bit of training, your last chance to prove yourself. If you fail this, it doesn't matter what you have done for the past sixth months, I will personally watch you get sent home today.''

The officer motioned for the RSM to bring over a box he had been standing next to. The RSM placed it at the officer's feet. The CO bent over pulling a grenade from the box.

''I have in this box four grenades. Three of them are duds, one of them is live. I will be throwing three of them into your ranks. I don't care what happens. Not one of you is to move until I say so.''

He pulled the pin on the first one and tossed it into the ranks. Not one soldier moved an inch, not one soldier even moved an eye to watch as the grenade soared into the crowd. Nobody moved as it bounced off of soldier's chest, into another's back and rolled to rest nearly in the middle of the mass of bodies. Several seconds passed, still nobody moved and the grenade didn't detonate.

The officer chuckled to himself, pulling two more grenades from the box. He pulled each one's pin and tossed them into opposite section's of the ranks. Once again nobody moved, even if they were hit. Not one man showed any emotion, especially not fear. This time as the grenades came to a rest they both exploded.

Rather than spitting fire and metal each grenade released hundreds of pellets containing and coated in pepper spray. This was just one of many tricks and tests of bravery the unit had endured throughout training. The pellets shot towards the soldiers, smashing into them at high speeds and causing great pain. In doing so they burst open, spraying pepper spray throughout the ranks. Despite the pain from the impact of the pellets, not one soldier moved an inch. Even as the pepper spray caused their eyes to itch and burn, not one soldier moved.

As the officer watched intently, for the first time any of the soldiers had ever seen the man wore a true smile, not a sadistic one but one created from actual happiness. Behind him the soldiers could hear a dull thud sound which repeated rapidly over and over. As the sound grew louder the men recognized it as a helicopter, one flying very low and slow. Although most couldn't see it, it flew over a building behind the officer and came towards them. The officer called out,

''The Count's Own Rifles, Stand At...Ease! Stand...Easy!''

Then in a normal speaking voice he ordered them to relax.This gave each soldier the ability to move anything but their feet which had to remain planted on the ground.

Behind the officer the helicopter approached, eventually flying over his head. As it flew above the soldiers men in the back began dumping buckets of water from the helicopter down onto the soldiers below. The soldiers quickly caught on, looking upwards to allow the water to splash into their faces and wash their pepper spray from their faces. The helicopter came back for several more passes allowing the men to fully rinse their eyes before they were dismissed.

Each man was now officially a member of the joint special forces unit known as The Count's Own Rifles, a unit known best for its bravery and effectiveness with bolt action rifles, their main service weapon.

Reserved

((OOC: I volunteer.))

The moonlight shone brightly upon a platoon of 12 soldiers making their way quietly through the dense jungles of a remote island. The men were part of an elite joint Orbathian-Throppe unit known as The Count's Own Rifles. The men had been inserted by boat several hours prior and they had made their way from there, through the dense jungle, towards their objectives.

The men had been tasked with locating and destroying a rebel camp which sat on top of a weapons cache. Through most of the rebels probably didn't know that they guarded a weapon's cache containing millions of rounds of ammunition and hundreds of rifles, intelligence stated that rebel officers inside the camp were planning on digging it up and equipping dozens of prospect rebel soldiers. Together with several other rebel units in the area, they were planning on launching some sort of massive operation. That was something intelligence didn't yet know.

The platoon commander was a fairly large, muscular and older Warrant Officer. The man was an accomplished soldier having served as both a regular soldier and special forces operative before becoming a member of the COR. The man had seen battle in several nations, most notably in Cripistan where he was shot in the arm. Despite this the man remained a stead fast patriot and very good soldier, making him an obvious choice for COR, especially for a position of leadership.

The man consulted his GPS. They were roughly two kilometers from the camp, but just over half a kilometer from a major road their first objective was located at. The road was major in the sense that it was well used. It was actually, quite remote. The road was major in the sense that it was very important and well used by rebel forces. Since it was late, Warrant Officer Paul didn't expect a heavy flow of traffic but he was sure that patrols would make their way along the road every now and then and that was something he would prefer to avoid since he needed time to establish firing positions while several of his men rigged up explosives along the road. They had to do it now because once they attacked the camp they would have to escape in the darkness and wouldn't have time to rig up the explosives, especially because they would likely be pursued.

He turned to unsure his team was all still behind him and he could see through the greenish glow of his night vision goggles that all three sections were in place, one directly behind him and two slightly to the rear and to the sides. All together they formed an arrowhead pattern. For awhile they walked, making no noise until Paul rose his hand up beside his head in a fist to signal the group to stop. He pointed to the two sections on the flanks, Bravo and Charlie section. Using hand signals, he ordered them to move forward and establish firing positions

Srageant Walker was the team leader of Bravo section. He watched through his NVGs as Paul gave him orders and then sprung into action. Crouching low at first, then crawling belly down in the dirt, his section and Charlie section advanced forward, coming towards the top of a steep embankment which overlooked the roadway. They had to remain low, their silhouettes would be easily visible at the top of the hill with the moon behind them. As he looked down he could see jungle, then a dirt road, then behind it, another embankment which lead deeper down into the valley. In that valley to the northeast was the rebel camp. He scanned the area several times, then looked off into the distance down both roads. He turned to Paul and gave him a thumbs up. Paul responded by giving him another set of hand signals.

Walker knew what each signal meant and understood what Paul wanted. He and his section had to provide watch while Charlie section dug in and camouflaged their positions. As soon as Charlie was done, they would provide watch while Bravo dug in. Walker gave Charlie section's team leader the thumbs up before turning his attention back to the road, tightening his grip on his Lee Enfield rifle.

It didn't take long for Charlie to dig in, then Bravo followed suit. Both teams had found more concealed firing positions and added foilage around them and also to their helmets to supplement the scrim which was already in them. Walker and the Charlie team leader now both turned to Paul and gave him the thumbs up. Paul could now have his section go down to the road and plant the explosives. He motioned for his section to follow and they headed over lip, going low both to provide less of a target and to give them more balance as the headed down the embankment. Paul made it roughly half way before he spotted something he didn't want to see. The glint of headlights approaching as a vehicle made its way down the road.

OOC: I need someone to play the role of the rebels, both in the vehicles and at the camp, roughly 50 in total armed with AKs and such, no mortars or anti tank weapons, RPGS are ok as long as they are not used excesivly. GWO you are welcome to take this role if you wish.

The Count's Own Rifles - Individual Soldier's Kit
1 x Lee Enfield Rifle
1 x Bayonet
1 x Custom Brass Knuckles
1 x Pistol
3 x Fragmentation Grenade
3 x Smoke Grenade
1 x Shovel
1 x Gas Mask
1 x Combat Uniform
1 x Steel Toed Boots

OOC: This is modern tech and neither side is more advanced, my side has simply opted to use bolt action rifles, more specifically the Lee Enfield which is still in use by military and police units around the world (Canadian Rangers for example).

I wanted to do something different than the usual special forces and try something new. Although my forces might be equipped with what some might call inferior weapons, they will make up for it through expert marksmanship.

During WW1 there were instances that German soldiers would report back to their superiors thinking they were being engaged by machine guns when in fact it was a group of regular soldiers armed with bolt action rifles. Now imagine that volume of fire combined with the pin point accuracy of well trained marksman.

OOC: This is modern tech and neither side is more advanced, my side has simply opted to use bolt action rifles, more specifically the Lee Enfield which is still in use by military and police units around the world (Canadian Rangers for example).

I wanted to do something different than the usual special forces and try something new. Although my forces might be equipped with what some might call inferior weapons, they will make up for it through expert marksmanship.

During WW1 there were instances that German soldiers would report back to their superiors thinking they were being engaged by machine guns when in fact it was a group of regular soldiers armed with bolt action rifles. Now imagine that volume of fire combined with the pin point accuracy of well trained marksman.

OOC: Ah, I understand now. I'll delete my post to save on OOC clutter.

OOC: Bump for GWO

OOC: This is again open for someone, GWO has decided not to participate.

(OOC: if you'd like the rebels to be supported by a Santherese noble house, I could hop on board with rebels and a black ops team from the relevant family. If, also, later, you'd like to make a skirmish on a Santherese island property (retribution, perhaps?) then we could also have similar units going head-to-head, in a cat-and-mouse fashion for both of us. Good for character-based RP, I should think.)

OOC: Basically exactly what I want and then some... your hired lol. Just put up an IC post them.

Meeting with the rebels on behalf of the Paladino family, Captain Celino Gallo was dressed in jungle camouflage and armed with local weaponry. Shouldered was his AK-74, two magazines taped together as was common amongst the members of the rebel cell. He sat as a table, draw stick figures with a red grease pencil on photographs of the surrounding terrain. It wasn't so much a meeting, really, as it was Gallo telling them they were screwing up and not acting quickly enough.

Gallo sighed and leaned back in his chair, the front legs lifting off the ground. He perched precariously, rocking back and forth and sighing. The light of the lantern on his table offered a soft, orange glow that barely reached the walls of the hovel in which he was staying.

"Hey, Captain!"

The sudden voice came without any warning, no sounds of approach. Celino jumped, his chair falling behind him, and just barely managed to keep himself from following it to the ground. "You little bastard, Secco," he sighed.

Secco chuckled. "Sorry, sir, couldn't resist. Just wanted to tell you that they're on their way; watch saw the headlights up road."

"Finally. Fucking disorganized little ... I swear to God, it's like they'd never heard of an appointment before."

"Yes, sir."

Secco held the door open with his foot as he took his AK from his shoulder and double-checked it. Gallo and his team, just half a dozen men, had important business for the Family to attend to. Hopefully that arms cache would arm enough rebels to get them the chance to open up the prospective site of the supposed palladium vein. The kind of money that metal would bring in could float the House for the next sixth months, more than long enough for them to gain popular support in the Noble Congress. Ah, soon enough those Condozzi bitches would pay for their damned militant matriarchy.

Just outside, the other agents of Alpha team were waiting for Gallo and Secco. Together, the six of them, four men and two women spread out and walked to the edge of the camp, just in case the incoming vehicle wasn't who they expected. They couldn't trust the other rebels to be effective and would sooner see the fifty of them die before putting the team in unnecessary danger.

-

Down the road, Anders was being driven by one of his bodyguards and accompanied by a couple more. The cell leader, Anders was allegedly an important person. Of course, the only reason he was the leader was because House Paladino wanted it to be so. He lacked the necessary skills a leader should have had, but that was also why Alpha team kept meeting with them -- they gave him orders and he acted like he came up with them himself.

Anders and his entourage drove in relative silence, each one of them sucking on a thin Santherese cigarillo, the embers at the tips glowing in the nighttime.

As he flicked out the window his own finished smoke, he couldn't help but happen to notice a brief rustle in the brush. It could have nothing -- animals were everywhere, after all, but he wasn't about to risk his life on being careless. The captain had taught him to treat everything as a potential threat. To the driver, he whispered, "Hurry up, push it. We ain't safe 'til we get to the camp."

The driver nodded and stamped on the gas, speeding them faster down the road.

(OOC: hope you don't mind my making the guy paranoid)

Black Ops team equipment:
AK-74
Steel baton
Camouflage uniform

They may have a handful of other things they might pick up because of the rebels, but odds are they'll stick to their AKs and just try to get away from a firefight, so it doesn't much matter.

Luckily Paul and his section had managed to hide. He had crouched behind a very, very large stump while the others had only been able to hide behind small clumps of foliage, normally not much to hide them but in the dark of night it did the trick. As the vehicle drove further into the darkness Paul let out a sign of relief.

Cautiously he and the team again carefully made their way down the slope, keeping a close eye on the road, watching for anymore sign of traffic. Upon reaching the bottom they were only a few feet from the road but protecting from watching eyes by a very thick bush that grew in a small trench along the edge of the road. The depression was likely created by water that pooled there over time after many rains but luckily it was mostly dry that night, the mud was just moist enough to cling in globs to their boots.

From where his team was he could see the farthest down the road he ever could. He looked first in the direction the truck had been traveling, then in the direction the truck had came from. Seeing no traffic he nodded to the Master Corporal beside him who grinned pearly white teeth which appeared much brighter against his camouflage painted face. Both men slowly walked onto the road, crouched slightly and keeping their weapons trained in opposite directions down the road.

Paul was confident if a vehicle did appear and attempted to run them over he would be able to stop the vehicle or at least kill the driver before the vehicle hit them. As fr as he knew COR was the only unit in Orbath that extensively practiced stopping a moving vehicle It was something they had practiced many times and Paul was sure he learned it well.

In between the two men who had now taken a knee, the other two members of the section ventured out onto the roadway, rifles slung over their backs, knives and explosive charges in hand. Using the knives they each dug a small hole on the opposite side of the road, placed the charge in the hole, wired it up and covered it back up carefully, ensuring that once covered it still remained at the same level as the road. They then went back towards the trench. Then they each began digging another hole just off to the side of the road but before the trench. In this hole each man placed two explosive charges.

The idea behind the explosives placement would be that the charges near the trench would pack the most punch, destroying or at least overturing a vehicle. The charges on the opposite side of the road could also destroy or damage a vehicle but would also cause a large chunk or road to break away and slide down the hill. Not only would this make the road unusable, any vehicle near the charges would also get sent down the hill.

The two men got back into the trench, putting away their bayonets and putting their rifles in their hands. They both then covered Paul and the Master Corporal while they got off the road and into the trench. Satisfied the way was clear, Paul spoke his first work of the mission through his helmet's headset.

''Bravo, Charlie, explosives are in place.''

Neither section leader had to wait for any further order or clarification, both knew what was next. Bravo section waited at the top of the hill, covering Charlie as the group made their way quickly but quietly down the hill and into the trench where Alpha section waited. Bravo then followed, soon joining the two other sections in the trench which had become crowded.

Again Paul looked up and down the road, despite the fact that his platoon was watching the road like a hawk and would easily spot any sign of a vehicle. He motioned to the Charlie section leader, Sargeant Diamond. Diamond was well aware of what Paul wanted. He tapped two team members on the shoulders, ordering them onto the road, facing opposite directions.

The men complied and they covered Diamond and the other member of the section as they crossed he open road. This continued until the entire platoon had made it across the road and down the hill. Paul again consulted his GPS. They were about a kilometer and a half from the rebel camp. He decided it was time they split up. Since they faced a large enemy and didn't have any ''stealthy'' weapons he felt they would be more effective delivering fire from many directions. Not only would it make them harder to engage, it would also give the illusion that their was more of them, making any surviving rebels less likely to follow them.

Using hand signals he ordered Bravo to head towards the camp from the east and Charlie from the north. His team would take a riskier route, traveling along the base of the hill towards the camp.

OOC: I have no problem with your character being paranoid and I also have no problem with them using rebel weapons, I actually encourage it.

When Anders and his team reached the camp, the Alpha team members met them, coming seemingly out of nowhere and surrounding them. Anders wasn't visibly shaken but he certainly didn't like it. He had asked the Santherese team to stop doing that but they never listened. Naturally, it was because they lacked respect for him and his people, but he didn't really know that for a fact and wasn't about to criticize them. They were, after all, the only real reason that this particular cell had made the successes it had.

Gallo, weapon in hand, strode up to the group, which had bunched together in front of their vehicle. He reached up and snatched a fresh cigarillo from Ander's grip. "How many is that for you today?"

"Four," Anders grumbled.

"I'm not giving you any more if you waste three a day. This shit is expensive you know. Finest in Santheres." He tucked his confiscated cigar into his chest pocket. "Now, progress report?"

Anders winced a little. "We don't know how many are going to join us. John told me a couple thousand best case, didn't give a worst. The equipment for the dig is in good shape and we can probably make some good headway tomorrow; who knows, we might get lucky right off the bat."

"Don't count on it," Secco interjected. "And we're out again in the morning; gotta check in with ... well, gotta check in with some people."

"Who this time?"

"OPSEC, Anders," Gallo sighed. "You're not one of us, you know that."

Anders nodded. Of course he knew that; they reminded him of that fact all the time. He was getting a little sick of it but again, there was really nothing he could do about it. The best he could do was make sure the plans went on and they were successful. If the Paladino family was happy with them, they'd be rewarded -- if not, well, who cared? They'd lose the House as a benefactor and by extension, lose any and all chance of Santherese support when they rose against Orbath ... unless, of course, they could either force the government's hand or doctor evidence of genocide. Anders smiled at his own cleverness; why hadn't he thought of that before?

He would have to tell some of the other cell leaders about his revelation.

"Come on back to the shack, Anders," Gallo said. "Alpha, with me, the rest of y'all secure the perimeter."

"Oh, that reminds me; I, uh, think I might've seen something down the road. Probably nothing but I'd like to check it out. If we could use one of the Ivecos, that'd make it easier."

Gallo turned. "You think you saw something and you just know mention it? Damn it. Yeah, send out a patrol in our Ivec and be quick about it. No heavies, stick to AKs. Can't loose good ordnance if it's a trap."

"What about the car, though?" Secco asked. "I mean, if there's an ambush out there, they get a new car."

"Remote detonation, Sergeant; don't worry about it. I doubt they'll look for that. We've got a spare, too, so no worries."

Anders raised his hand, "Uh, actually, we've got the spare. That's our, we bought it ourselves."

"And if you lose mine, you gotta pay me back. With a new one. Unless you want to risk yours blowing up, eh?"

Gallo had him there, no denying. The seven of them returned to the softly-lit orange room that had served Gallo as his office. They had some things to discuss before calling it a night. Alpha was heading out in the morning, so everything had to be squared away at that moment, or it never would be.

OOC: All the patrol is going to do is drive slowly and take a look around, then come back, so there's nothing for me to really write. You can decide from there if you want to act against them or just let them be as they pass by.

Paul anD his team moved quickly and quietly along the base of the hill. Paul kept a watchful eye through his night vision goggles. He suppressed his other thoughts, focusing entirely on the mission at hand, something that was more important now that they were in close proximity with the base. It was entirely possible they would run into scouts. During their briefing they had been informed that while security would likely be low key, they would likely be better soldiers than some of their other counterparts.

Paul turned his attention to the top of the hill, cocking his ear slightly. He swore he could hear the sound of an engine. Slowing down he spotted a faint yellow glow. He ordered his team deeper into the brush and then to go prone. He waited, heart racing as the glow became bright and brighter, the noise louder and louder. As he passed by he could hear the gentle rumble of the vehicle and the sound the tires made as they rolled across the road. He waited until the vehicle was out of sight wishing he could detonate the explosives and send his enemy to hell. He had restraint though, he knew that it needed to wait. He didn't want the enemy camp to know he was coming, suprise was key.

As they began walking again, Paul decided to pick up the pace and began to run. Although it was a bit of a gamble by making himself slightly more noticeable to scouts, if he could reach the camp before the vehicle did, it would mean less soldiers on site to deal with.

His boots made a soft dull, rhythmic thud, soon joined by those behind him. Although they didn't mean to, the group remained in step, a product of many days of constant drill practice designed to make them highly ceremonial, another feature that set them apart from other special forces units.

He checked his GPS, they were nearly there. He slowed the team down and after less than a minute of walking, the team crouched as he watched through a space in the foliage. He could see a small hovel and from under the door, the warm glow of light, indicating that someone was inside. He decided to see what the size of the enemy was first before he moved into a more open position to fire. He scanned the area, looking for any enemy presence.

The other two teams were both already in position since Alpha had moved slower and been held up. They two had scanned the camp, noting any enemies and memorizing any patrol routes or anything else that would make their attack quicker and more lethal. All they waited on was for Paul to give them the signal.

(Sorry for taking so long. I hope you're still interested.)

The scouting party pulled alongside the road for a minute and the driver, William, shut off the engine. They sat in the dark momentarily and looked around outside. "How long do you suppose we should wait, eh?"

One of the passengers shrugged. "Not long. The Sannies probably forgot about us already and Anders is busy with 'em. They won't care, won't even know how long we took. I say we just head back, nice and slow. Enjoy the ride. There's never anything out here."

It was true. When Anders "saw something," it was almost always the wind rustling through the trees, or two rabbits chasing each other. There was never anything here -- that was why they were based here, after all. No one cared about this wilderness and no one expected anyone else to, either.

William nodded and cleared his throat, spitting out the window. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, let's turn back. Just say there was a wolf or summat."

He started the Iveco up again and as the engine turned over, spotted a brief oddity in the driver's side mirror. He leaned closer to the glass to better see the reflection. "The hell?"

"What?"

William had always had amazing eyesight and was generally a very aware person. It was nothing special that he happened to notice the tell-tale sign of a man on foot. He opened the door and hopped down onto the road, crossing over to where he was certain he saw the track. Kneeling down, he prodded it with a finger. Deep impression, ribbed sole, ... classic boot pressed down with the weight of a man, but little else. He moved forward a few feet and spotted another, much less obvious. It was a half-print, evidently swiped out to make it disappear. Looking around for more, he saw nothing. The prints appeared out of nowhere and stopped just as quickly. Someone was trying to cover their movements but missed a few signs. Scouts? Hunters?

Either way, it wasn't the best of possibilities.

He raced back to the car and jumped back in just in time to hear his party verbally jab at him.

"Couldn't hold it, huh?"

"See a candy bar on the ground?"

"Probably thought he saw a little nymph!"

The latter made his men roar with laughter. It was an inside joke -- William was always claiming to have spotted things no one else ever could. And one time there was this cute girl swimming naked in the lake. Of course, no one else ever saw any such thing, even when they staked out the area in hope of her return.

William shook his head. "Bootprint, dipshit. Men moved through here. Two prints, one was almost cleared."

He made a three-point turn and hit the gas, racing down the road. His men suddenly took him seriously; they all had their weapons out the windows, sighting down them and looking for further movements. Even if Will was wrong, it wouldn't do well to act like it wasn't worrisome.

Paul noted the presence of any enemy soldier located at the camp. He also looked for areas where weapons might be stored, and areas where soldiers could find cover. He communicated via headset to the other two fireteams, gaining any information they might have, able to see different angles from their vantage points. Suddenly Paul heard the roar of a vehicle.

Instinctively the members of the team crouched down, further hiding themselves although they were quite obscured already. Paul had been ready to order an attack on the camp, however the presence of the vehicle complicated things.

The Iveco didn't slow down as they approached the camp. The passengers even became much more lax about looking for the intruders Will just knew where out there. They didn't have much time to see much, anyway -- vehicle simply raced down the road as fast as Will could push her.

#

The team filed out of the hovel, quietly, dressed in their blacks and carrying their AKs. Anders was with them and when the door opened, several of his men moved in, likely his officers. They chattered just outside as the Paladino black ops team moved around the side of the building to root through their inventory in the tent adjacent.

"Secco, Ciara: pack up the shit we're taking with us." When Gallo spotted the shine of headlights in his peripheral vision, he shook his head. "Brombal, Cavinato: see to the patrol. Anders!" When the man looked over at them, Gallo continued, "Patrol's back. Go with them." He gestured at Brombal and Cavinato, who were already hoofing it toward the gate post to meet with the returning scouts, who would be there within minutes.

Paul could tell something was happening, his best guess was that some sign of their presence had been discovered. More and more bodies flowed, many soldiers in black uniforms stood before the hovel.

''Fire on my command...5...4...3...2...1.''

During his countdown, Paul had lined his sights up with a man who was giving orders. Now he held his breath and loosened his muscles as he slowly pulled the trigger. Every member of Alpha, Bravo and Charlie did the same, each choosing a target and firing.

Rapidly Paul pulled the bolt back, allowing the cartridge to escape and loading another round. He and his team members re-aimed and prepared to fire once again.

The shots came from nowhere and everywhere. Captain Gallo had been giving orders one second, and the next, he was on the ground, bleeding from where his ear had formerly been. He lay there in brief shock, both surprised at the pain and amazed at the fact that he was still alive. His ear was gone but he didn't quite know that yet -- the facts hadn't connected in his head and he was much too busy trying to grunt past the pain. He looked to the side as the shots continued. Men were running around, the rebels he had been making good use of; a lot of them fell, either tripping or in the awkward motion of a man shot. His team was nowhere in sight, only Secco, who had dropped to his knees next to him, saved from the gunfire by the boxes and crates around him. His AK was ready and he fired toward where some of the bullets were coming from, staying covered and simply spraying a magazine in the general direction, hoping to at least make some of the attackers take cover themselves.

"Captain!" Secco yelled when he ran out of ammo and turned toward Gallo. He grabbed his wounded superior and dragged him into cover. "Fuck, I thought you bought it for a bit there."

How long had it been? Gallo, perhaps, had blacked out for a moment and it had been more time than he thought. He stared at Secco for a moment before realizing exactly what had happened -- taking cover better, he touched the side of his head. "Motherfuckers shot my ear off!"

Not far away, Ciara had dived toward the Iveco and crawled briefly as the shots rang close to her. The moment they sounded as though they were moving away instead, she rose and took off for the vehicle, barely making and and rolling under the thing before more bullets slammed into the door, just behind where her head had briefly been. Whoever these people were, they were better shots than any man had a right to be.

Across the compound, Brombal and Cavinato had taken cover with the first shots, their lightning reflexes saving them. Or, perhaps, they had never been primary targets. Anders had not been so lucky. He was laying in a muddy puddle, bleeding quite freely from his belly, around his grasping fingers, into the pool. They didn't bother trying to rescue him.

"They're slow," Brombal noted. "Semis, maybe?" She popped up briefly to shoot at one set of attackers, praying just like Secco that she'd get lucky and at least wing one of them. While she was up, she spotted three of the rebel group laying motionless not twenty feet away. Their luck, apparently, wasn't with them tonight.

"Dunno. If they had automatics, I'm sure we'd be dead." Cavinato was an older man who had been in situations just like this before. Of course, he had always been on the other end. "Gotta be fifty of 'em, two sides. Fuck, no, three." He rose to shoot in the opposite direction as Brombal, and did so, but failed to drop down again before getting shot through the back of his left shoulder.

#

When the fire began, William's passengers could see the locations of the attackers -- some of them, at least. They spotted two sets and poured fire in those directions as William took the Iveco off the road and made an attempt to close in on one of the groups. It was the least he could do, even if the terrain wasn't friendly to driving and shooting at the same time.