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    "Daybreak"

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    shomu1
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    "Daybreak"

    Post by shomu1 on Sat Jun 18, 2016 4:56 pm

    25 Fairpointe Cove

    Outskirts of Oured, Osea

    3 October 2032

    2000 Hours Oured Standard Time


    “In a shocking escalation of the conflict, today in Fato, members of the Fato Liberation Party, FLP, reported that they have taken eight private contractors hostage in a daring raid on a government held barracks.”

    Sarathi “Sharky” Sarkar, who was idly browsing through documents on his laptop while his daughter Kayla played with Legos on the floor of the living room, suddenly snapped his attention to the TV.  Raising the volume, he waited for the anchor to continue.

    Confused by the sudden increase in sound coming from the TV and her father’s deepening scowl, Kayla asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

    Gesturing to the six-year old, Sharky said, “Shhh, I’m trying to listen.  Go back to your toys, kiddo.”

    The voice of the anchor resumed, “The contractors, employees of Rosenthal Advanced Security and Technologies, Incorporated, were on a contract with the government of Fato to aid the government’s beleaguered police forces in counter-terror operations.  The members of the FLP have not yet released a statement with their demands, and Rosenthal could not be reached for comment.”

    At this moment, Sharky’s secure cell phone rang.  “Sharky.  What’s happening?”

    “Sharky, Clark.  Turn on the news.”

    “Already watching it, Mr. C.  What’s going on?”

    “Vampire was on contract with with Fato, helping out their cops stop these FLP clowns.”

    “Right, SOAR got deployed with them.”

    “Well, Vampire got ambushed.  We couldn’t get extraction to them in time.  Now we’re getting them back.  We could use the fishes on this one.”

    Sharky sighed, “Mr. C, you know I’d be all over this.  But I’m not in the Basilisks any more.”

    John Clark’s voice growled across the phone line, “It’s all hands on deck with this one, kid.  And I want someone I can trust watching my guys’ backs while we tear these pricks a new one.  Shamu’s already said he’s in.  But can I count on you?”

    Sharky was silent for a minute before he said, “Yo ho ho, Mr. Clark.  But I’m gonna need time to get Kayla squared away.”

    “Wheels up from Glendale in four hours.”

    “Aye aye.  I’ll be there.”

    After Mr. Clark hung up, the next call Sharky made was to the home of his RIO and close friend, Samya “Shamu” Suara.  An Estovakian accented voice picked up.  “Hello?”

    “Daci, Sharky.  You hear what’s going on?”

    “Yes, Samya just left for the base.  This is unbelievable.”

    “Tell me about it.  Are they calling you in too?:

    “No, they want me to cover things from here.”

    “Great.  Irina’s across the pond on an install.  Can you watch Kayla for a few days?”

    “Of course!  I’d be happy to.”

    “Awesome, thanks.  We’ll be over ASAP.”

    Kayla had been sitting on the floor, looking confusedly at her father.  “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

    “Pack up your things, kiddo.  You’re going to Aunt Daci’s for a few days.”

    “Why?”

    “Daddy’s gotta go to work, baby girl.”

    “But you said you work here now.”

    “I know, Kayla, but your uncles got in a bit of trouble and now I’ve gotta bail them out.”

    “Is this because of what was on the news?  Are Uncle Derek, Uncle Adam, Uncle Matt, Uncle Tom, all okay?”

    Sharky smiled for a second.  “Smart kid,” he thought.  “Yes, baby, it’s because of the news.  I don’t know how they are right now, but don’t worry.  Daddy’s gonna make sure they’re okay.”  Looking at his watch, he continued, “Now go get your things.  We don’t have that much time.”

    As Kayla nodded and scampered upstairs to pack her clothes, Sharky sighed and thought, “This isn’t good.” Half an hour later, the six year old came down the stairs, dragging a backpack and a small blue suitcase behind her.  Sharky took the bags from her and loaded in the car before driving over to the town house near Rosenthal’s corporate HQ that Shamu and Daciana Ionescu shared.  

    After Sharky rang the doorbell, the door opened and the tall brown-haired Estovakian stepped out to greet him. “Hello Sarathi.”  Turning to Kayla she crouched down and said in a sweet tone, “And hello to you, cutie.”

    Kayla shuffled her feet nervously.  “Hi Aunt Daci.”

    Sharky spoke up, “Hey Daci.  She’s got everything for a week.  You have the house key if you need anything, right?”

    Daciana nodded.  “Yes.  We will be fine.  You just focus on getting Vampire back.”

    Sharky sighed, “Yeah.”  Turning to Kayla he crouched down and said, “Okay, kiddo.  Aunt Daci’ll look after you while me and mommy are saving your uncles’ butts.  I’ll call you when I can, okay?  You got everything?”

    Kayla nodded.


    “Got Snuffles Junior?”

    Kayla held out the stuffed snarling grizzly bear wearing a miniature Rosenthal T-shirt that she had received from Dusty, Crisis Response Team Vampire’s spotter.  “Always.”

    Holding out his arms, Sharky smiled, “Good.  Give daddy a kiss.”  After Kayla gave Sharky a hug and a peck on the cheek, he stood up and turned to Daciana.  “Thanks again.”

    Daciana smiled and gave him a hug.  “Of course.  Stay safe.  And make sure you bring my killer whale back in one piece, yes?”

    Sharky chuckled and nodded.  Kayla looked up at Sharky and said, “Daddy, bring my uncles back.”

    Sharky nodded, “I will, baby girl.  But now daddy’s gotta go.”  Hugging Kayla once more, he walked down the steps of the townhouse back to the SUV.

    Daciana and Kayla watched Sharky drive off before Daci offered her hand to the young girl.  “Come on, mic pește.  Let’s get you some juice.”


    2 hours later

    Rosenthal Flight Test Facility

    Oured, Osea


    Sharky finished gearing up and walked out to the flight line.  Noticing his WSO standing by the hangars, he walked over.  “Yo, Shams!”

    Shamu walked over and pulled the taller man into a brotherly hug.  “Good, you made it.  This shit’s bad, bro.”

    “No shit.  Vampire getting compromised.  Never saw that shit happening in a million years.  So. What are we flying?”

    “Smaug.”

    “For a COIN op?”

    Shamu shrugged, “Mr. C explicitly told me, ‘I want you to rain fire, death, and brimstone on these fat rebel bastards.’ Ain’t nobody do fire from above like Smaug.  Methinks our good Mr. Clark is a wee bit miffed at the current situation.”

    Sharky nodded, “Yeah, I can understand his displeasure.”

    “Like seriously I’ve never seen us roll out something this heavy for something this small before.  They’re sending Monster.”

    Sharky’s eyes widened at the mention of Rosenthal’s biggest secret. “Holy shit.  Clark IS pissed.”

    “Yuuuuuuuup.”

    “Well let’s get going.”  With that the two walked off to prepare their F-16H for the trip to Fato to unleash “fire, death, and brimstone.”


    Brunies Intl. Airport

    Brunies, Fato

    4 October 2032

    0800 Hours


    “Alright, gents, what’s the plan?”  Having just returned from a flight around the city of Brunies to familiarize himself with the landmarks, Sharky looked around at the men and women gathered around him.

    “Well ‘eres wot we’re gonna do.  We’ve go’ Vampire’s position narrowed down off SIGINT hits, their trackers, and ISR.  We also ‘ave the locations of a noombah of other FPL safe houses from intel we gathered in the previous weeks.  Tonight, we ghost into the shack where these louts’ve got our lads, ghost ‘em out, and when we’re out, you lot bring the fires of ‘ell down on ‘ese bahstards, yeah?”  The thick northern Erusian accent of Graham “Thumper” MacTavish, the leader of CRT Druid, was almost incomprehensible as he described the plan for the night, gesturing at a blown up satellite image of the city.

    Sharky frowned, “So the nanomachines are still working?”

    Chemo, Thumper’s assistant team leader, spoke up.  “Aye.  Plus the imagery doesn’t lie.  We’ve got increased activity in these locations, and Vampire’s life signs trackers are still broadcasting.”

    Shamu asked, “Wait you mean they haven’t run our guys over with an EM detector?  Seriously?”

    Chemo shrugged, “They probably weren’t able to do shite about it, more like.  Either way we’re keeping a good eye on them, making sure the beacons are still online.”

    Sharky asked, “What if they go offline?”

    Gale Sarkar, Sharky’s wife and XO of the 426th SOAR, sighed, “Then this just got a hell of a lot harder.”

    Sharky nodded, “This is true.”  Noticing the exhausted look on his wife’s face, Sharky said, “Alright, guys.  Let’s take five. We’ll go over the CAS plan afterwards.”

    As the assorted SF operators and pilots dispersed, Sharky walked over to Gale, his arms outstretched for a hug.  “You look like you just went ten rounds with Snuffles.”

    Gale accepted the hug, pulling Sharky close.  Exhaling deeply, she said, “Baby, this is a fucking mess.  It’s just…  It’s VAMPIRE, for fuck’s sake!”  Her voice cracked as she continued, “They’re the fucking best…”

    Sharky stroked her hair and said soothingly, “Shhh, shhh….  I know, babe.  I know…  But tell me, what ACTUALLY happened?  I’ve been getting bits and pieces since I got here.”

    Gale took a deep breath.  “Vampire was running an op in the city, helping the local guys reinforce one of their barracks.  FLP showed up.  In force.  Turns out they had a mole in the barracks.  Surprise surprise, huh?  Anyway, Vampire got pinned down on the way to the extraction, and the ground team got held up.”

    “Okay…”

    “Naturally they scrambled us next.  But the Fatoans didn’t want us to bring gunships.  Something about collateral damage.   Reaper was arguing with them trying to get clearance, saying it was too hot for slicks alone, but it took too long.  We just got in the air when they got overrun.  When we got there it was a ghost town.  Nothing but bodies, fires, and bullet holes…”  By now tears were welling up in Gale’s eyes.  “Sharky, we were too late.  I was too late…”

    Sharky rubbed her back and cooed, “Shh…  Shhh… Angel, it’s not your fault.  You know that.”

    “Bullshit!  I was their extract, and I was late!  How is that anything BUT my fault?”

    Sharky sighed, “Breathe, babe.  WHY were you late?”

    Gale took a deep breath and said, “We were delayed on getting airborne.”

    “And you were delayed because…”

    “The Fatoans would not give us permission to take off with gunships, which is against our SOP.”

    “And whose fault is that?”

    “Damnit you’re right.  Us going in without cover to a hot zone would have been too risky.  It’s just so fucking INFURIATING!”

    Sharky smiled, wiping Gale’s tears away with his thumb.  “I know, babe.  But come on.  Crying about a missed target time now isn’t gonna do anything is it?”

    “No, no it’s not.”

    “Exactly.  Now come on, pretty lady.  Where’s that demonic ice queen I married?”

    Gale’s expression hardened.  “Now let’s go kill some fuckers.”

    Sharky grinned, “There’s my girl.  Come on, they’re getting the briefing started again.”

    As they returned to the planning table, Subro “Reaper” Sarkar, Sharky’s brother and Gale’s CO, pulled the pilot aside.  “Hey, chotu, she okay?”

    Sharky nodded.  “Yeah.  She’s feeling guilty she couldn’t get Vampire out in time.”

    “You think I should pull her off tonight?”

    Sharky fixed his older brother with a serious gaze.  “Bro.  You KNOW Gale.  You pull her off this mission you’re just gonna have a pissed off XO terrorizing the maintenance troops.  She’s just a bit shaken up by the fact that Vampire’s basically family.  She’ll be fine.”

    “Alright.”  With that Reaper and Sharky rejoined the discussion, which was going over flight plans and timing.

    A few hours later, the SF operators and pilots dispersed to complete last minute preparations and get some rest before the operation kicked off.


    Rosenthal Corporate HQ

    Oured, Osea

    4 October 2032

    2000 Hours


    Mr. Clark, I cannot allow you to do this!”

    “Mr. Premier, this call is not to ask your permission.  This is to inform you of our intentions.”  John Clark, Chief Operations Officer of Rosenthal, Incorporated, said flatly into the secure phone connecting him to the premier of Fato.

    “But.  But what you suggest!  It is extreme!”

    “It is.”

    “Surely there is another way!  A less draconian solution!”

    “You had your chance for a less draconian solution before you allowed my men to be captured.  This is a Rosenthal problem now.”

    “But your contract!”

    “Rosenthal’s contract with your government states that we are to advise and assist your forces in curtailing the threat posed by the FLP.  Since your forces appear to be… less than capable of doing this, even with our help, we will be assisting you more intensively.  We are fully within the terms of our contract.”

    “But burning down half of a city just for eight men!”

    “You cannot carry out an insurgency if you are burnt to a crisp.”

    “That is very… severe… logic for a man in your position, Mr. Clark.”

    John huffed in amusement.  “I have been in this situation many times before, Mr. Premier.  Severe logic is the only kind that works.”

    “What will I tell my people?  They will not take kindly to this!”

    “You don’t have to tell them a thing.  The message will be clear enough.  However if you are still concerned, think of it this way.  I’m doing you a favor.  I’m ridding you of the FLP, and clearing out the seedy underbelly of Brunies at the same time.  As an added bonus, you can blame me if your people complain.  It won’t stick, but it’ll give you those warm fuzzies politicians are so fond of.  But that is all on you.  What your response is makes no difference to me.”

    “And what is this oh so important message that must be sent by burning half of my capital city to the ground?”

    “Don’t FUCK with my people.  Good day, Mr. Premier.”  John calmly hung up the phone.  Pressing the intercom button, he asked, “Doris, status on the troops in Fato?”

    His secretary replied, “They are on schedule, and are moving in position as planned.  I actually have Mr. Sarkar on the phone for you.”

    “Put him on.”  As the light next to the handset began blinking, Clark picked up the phone.  “Reaper, talk to me.”

    “We’re ready to roll, Mr. C.  Waiting on your word.”

    “You have it.”

    “Roger that.  Any word on the Fatoans?”

    “None.  Proceed with caution, minimize unnecessary casualties.”

    “Yes sir.”

    “And Reaper?”

    “Yes sir?”

    “Good luck.”

    “Yes sir.  Reaper out.”


    Outside FLP Safe House

    Brunies, Fato

    4 October 2032

    2359 Hours


    “Scarecrow’s got eyes on.  Count 6 total.  4 external, 2 internal.”

    “Chemo’s got the one by the red car.”

    “Thumper’s on the one opposite him.”  

    “Cyclops has the last one.”

    Rosenthal had tracked CRT Vampire’s position to a FLP safehouse in the outskirts of Brunies after UAVs had detected an abnormal amount of activity around the two-story house in the normally quiet neighborhood.  This, combined with the still broadcasting beacons, warranted a search.  Team Druid quietly infiltrated the area using civilian vehicles, getting in place at around 2230 hours.   The area was typical of most Fatoan suburbs, with one and two-story houses lining the streets, but it had clearly seen better days.  Many of the homes were boarded up, apparently having been vacant for months, if not years.  Weeds poked up through the cracked pavement of the street.  The general feeling of dilapidation was palpable.  As Scarecrow, one of the team’s marksmen, set up with his HK 417 on the pitched roof of a house near the target building, he commented, “Yeesh, this place reminds me of a bad horror movie.”

    Cyclops, his partner, radioed from the opposite rooftop, “Too right, mate.  Works fine for us though.”

    Thumper chimed in, “Soddin’ idiots, this lot.  Nobody’s lived in this place for years.  And they go and have a bloody party.  It’s like they WANT to get found.”

    Chemo chuckled, “Don’t go jinxin’ us, boss.”

    “I’d never dream of it.  Now get set, lads.  We go in twenty.”

    The 8-man team got in position, Cyclops and Scarecrow observing the building.  As the two marksmen began to call out targets, Thumper whispered, “Okay, Chemo and I are on the front.  Peasant, Boxer, You’re on the back.  Ozone, cut the power when I say.  Gridlock, cover him.”

    There were 4 sentries outside the house, two clustered around the front door, with another two on opposite corners of the house, all armed with AK-102s that appeared to have been pulled out of a landfill somewhere.  The two sentries by the door were apparently rather bored with their position, lazily standing around talking and smoking cigarettes, while their comrades on the corners of the house were fighting off sleep.  Whatever their activities, the sentries did not notice Ozone sneak into the backyard of the house, where a generator trundled merrily away.  Nor did they notice Chemo and Thumper creep along the line of cars parked in front of the front door, or Peasant and Boxer creeping up behind them on the corners.

    When everyone was in position, Thumper whispered into his mic, “Go.”  Four rifles coughed almost in unison.  Cyclops and Scarecrow sent 7.62x51mm rounds through the heads of their targets.  As the sentries dropped like puppets whose strings had been cut, Peasant and Boxer quickly moved up and eased them to the ground, taking their rifles and carefully setting them down to prevent them from clattering as they hit the ground.  At the same time, Chemo and Thumper dropped their targets with suppressed shots from their HK416s, quickly and quietly dragging the two into the shadows, depositing their bodies underneath a parked car.  “Front’s clear.”

    “Rear’s clear.”

    “Well done.  Ozone, hit it.”  The team heard two clicks on the microphone, then the generator fell silent, plunging the little townhouse into darkness.  “NOD up.”  The operators flipped their night vision goggles down, bathing the quiet neighborhood in a cool green glow.  “Chemo and Thumper set on the front.”

    “Boxer and Peasant set out back.”

    “Alright, go on my mark.  3… 2… 1… Mark.”

    At Thumper’s nod, Chemo quietly eased the door open, allowing Thumper to creep inside.  As he followed his team leader inside, they heard someone call out in Fatoan.  “Misha, what’s going on?  Did you forget to put gas in the generator again?”  

    The two crept along the entrance hallway, taking care to make no noise on the wooden floorboards.  As the hallway widened into a foyer, Thumper saw the curious rebel sitting on a couch.  

    “Misha!  Ugh, goddamn lazy bastard.  Probably having another smoke.”

    Thumper quickly put two rounds in the man before he could get up, the subsonic rounds ripping through the man’s body, the puffs of blood glowing in the artificially enhanced vision of the NVGs.  At a nod from Thumper, Chemo split off and began clearing the rooms on the right side of the hallway while Thumper took the right.  As they made their way towards the back of the house, they heard a whisper on the radio, “Boss, coming up on your three.”

    “Check.” Boxer and Peasant appeared around the corner.  Thumper asked, “Wha’s the count?”

    “One X-ray down by the back door.”

    “We got one in the living room.  Couch is gonna need reupholstery.”

    “Ouch.”

    “Indeed.  Let’s take it upstairs.  Peasant, you’re on point.”

    “Aye.”  

    The stairs led up to a hallway with three rooms on each side.  CRT Druid took two rooms at a time, with two men stacking up on each side of the door while a third kicked it in.  They progressed down the hallway, clearing out a pair of remaining rebels, until finally as they kicked in the last door on the left side of the hallway, they heard a familiar voice.  “What the hell took you guys so long?”

    Gridlock called out, “Boss!”

    Thumper walked across the hall, having cleared the last room on his side.  As he looked in the door, a wide grin crossed his face.  “Well, some of us ‘ave work to do, Genghis.  Can’t all be on a bloody ‘oliday now can we?”

    Genghis chuckled, “It’s damned good to see you, brother.”

    “You ‘ave no idea, mate.  ‘Ow’d you lot lose to this buncha wankers?”

    Genghis sighed, “Long story.  Let’s get out of here first.”

    “Right.  Can ye walk, lads?”

    Dingo spoke up as the rest of CRT Vampire filed out of the room with the help of Chemo and Peasant, “We’re all good, Voodoo’s got a busted leg.”

    Voodoo growled from his seat in the corner, “Fuckin’ assholes got lucky…”

    Thumper nodded.  “Boxer!”

    “Sah?”

    “Get Voodoo.”

    “Aye.”  Druid’s auto-rifleman walked over to his Vampire counterpart and slung him on his shoulders, groaning under the strain of picking up the big Bana native.  “Alrigh’ ‘ere, big man, let’s go.”

    Voodoo grunted, “Agh, son of a bitch!  What happened to ‘Be gentle with the wounded!?’”

    Dingo said smugly, “You can handle it.”

    Chuckling, Thumper said, “Alright lads, let’s get ye outta ‘ere, eh?  This place is gonna be on fire in about thirty minutes.”

    Zeus, Vampire’s JTAC, asked, “How on fire are we talking here?”

    Chemo replied, “The fishes and Monster.”

    Zeus grinned evilly, “Excellent…”

    “Indeed.  Now let’s move.  To the trucks.”  With Vampire in tow, CRT Druid made their way outside and quickly moved the two blocks to a pair of waiting trucks.  As the diesel engines roared to life and the trucks headed towards the river that separated Old Brunies from New Brunies, Thumper radioed, “Kingpin, package is secure, we are Oscar Mike.”

    Reaper replied from his position in the rear of the Command and Control MH-76 Blackfoot orbiting the city, “Roger that.  Serpent, you are go.”


    Last edited by shomu1 on Sun Jun 19, 2016 12:26 pm; edited 1 time in total


    _________________



    Loadouts:

    Basilisk 1: SOAP -ON-
    F-14D Quickstrike Ordnance Status:                                   
     
    M61A2:  675x PGU-36/B SAPHEI
    6x AIM-9X
    6x AIM-154C
    2x AGM-88 AARGM-ER
    14x AGM-118 Brimstone
    2x CBU-103
     
    Total Credits:
    0

    Basilisk 2SOAP -ON-
    F-14D Quickstrike Ordnance Status:                                   
     
    M61A2:  675x PGU-36/B SAPHEI
    6x AIM-9X 
    6x AIM-154C
    3x AGM-88 AARGM-ER
    14x AGM-118 Brimstone
    2x CBU-103

    avatar
    shomu1
    Moderator

    Posts : 339
    Join date : 2015-06-19
    Location : Behind you.

    Re: "Daybreak"

    Post by shomu1 on Sun Jun 19, 2016 12:21 pm

    Still a work in progress, more to come.


    _________________



    Loadouts:

    Basilisk 1: SOAP -ON-
    F-14D Quickstrike Ordnance Status:                                   
     
    M61A2:  675x PGU-36/B SAPHEI
    6x AIM-9X
    6x AIM-154C
    2x AGM-88 AARGM-ER
    14x AGM-118 Brimstone
    2x CBU-103
     
    Total Credits:
    0

    Basilisk 2SOAP -ON-
    F-14D Quickstrike Ordnance Status:                                   
     
    M61A2:  675x PGU-36/B SAPHEI
    6x AIM-9X 
    6x AIM-154C
    3x AGM-88 AARGM-ER
    14x AGM-118 Brimstone
    2x CBU-103


      Current date/time is Sun Aug 20, 2017 2:56 am