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    Harvest Green

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    Phantomphanatic10

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    Join date : 2015-06-19

    Harvest Green

    Post by Phantomphanatic10 on Fri Oct 14, 2016 5:45 pm

    The DH-7 turned onto its final descent into Chernarus International Airport. The boxy twin engine aircraft settled down gently onto the runway. Taxiing out, the Twin Otter pulled into a less well travelled section of the airport. The area was reserved for the Chernarus military, as evidenced by several unfriendly looking soldiers and the lines of MiG-29s. Pulling up to the large building that served as a terminal, the DH-7 opened its doors and the occupants, members of Advanced Reconnaissance Solutions Team Wendigo clambered out, lugging heavy gear cases. Tikka was the first out, adjusting his tan baseball cap. Taking in his surrounding as he exited, the tall man was followed by a bulky Yuktobanian with a large graying beard. Bodark, who was the assistant team lead, followed Tikka down the stair, then stepped to the side, waiting for the rest. Gazelle, a compact South African man with blond hair, followed them, lugging the Pelican case that contained his Mk. 48. A wiry Kalugan man called Gekko came next, his medic’s backpack bulging with gear. Kestrel, ARST Wendigo’s marksman, followed after, along with his spotter and demolitions man, Firebrand, whose Osean War-era paratrooper mohawk made some of the guards raise their eyebrows. Waiting to greet them were three men, each wearing multicam and a patch with a flaming hammer that read Svarog underneath. Tikka walked up to them and stood in front of what appeared to be the 105th Spetsnaz’s team lead then embraced the man in a brotherly hug.

    “Adrian, how have you been!” He exclaimed.

    “I have been fine Tikka, the teams are doing well.”

    “Good good, how are your wife and child?” Tikka said as the teams walked toward the terminal.

    “They are fine as well, after all the unrest started I sent them to...” Adrian stopped mid sentence as they passed a pair of OVPS internal police guards and another man wearing Kryptek Typhon camouflage.

    After they passed, Tikka quietly asked, “Who are these men in black?”

    “Walton Security Solutions contractor,” said Adrian. “They are here officially to train the OVPS, but their past is a haze of issues it seem. Rumors of maltreatment of detainees are floating through the ranks.”

    “Great, just who we need to get in our way.” said Gekko as they stopped next to a panel van. Adrian opened the door and the LIAT men clambered inside. Finding a comfortable spot for their equipment on the floor of the van, the men chatted idly as Adrian fired up the van. The ride seemed to last for an hour as the van plunged deeper and deeper into the depths of the base. Finally, the van came to a stop in front of a gate, guarded by a serious looking trooper in body armor and carrying an AK-105. Adrian flashed his ID and said something in Chernarussian, and the gate was raised. Pulling in, they arrived at their final destination. Opening the sliding door, the contractors freed themselves from the back and followed Adrian to a squat grey building.

    “You’re bunked in the same rooms as last time. Briefing is in onehour.” he said as the group entered. Nodding, the team split up and went to their assigned rooms. Unlocking the door with the key Adrian had provided each of them with. The room was mostly bare, with a single bunk in one corner, a single window, a small weapons locker and a desk. Setting down his on the bed, he laid his gun cases out and opened them up. Inside the first, a LaRue PreadatOBR with an ELCAN, PEQ-15 and Inforce flashlight sat with its magazines and other cleaning equipment. Pulling out the rifle, Tikka cleared the rifle and inspected it for damage. Setting it on the desk, he opened the second case, which contained a Daniel Defense lower and two upper receivers, one chambered in 6.8, the other in .300 Blackout. A pair of suppressors and ten magazine sat alongside the two halves of the gun. After inspecting all three, he opened the locker.and placed his rifles inside. Changing out of his dusty polo, he switched into his M05 camouflage top. He also strapped his holster onto his belt, then retrieved the Glock 19 from his backpack. Performing a press check, he holstered the weapon. Checking his watch, he realized he had time to unpack the rest of his gear. He pulled out his laptop and set it on the desk, and also pulled his body armor and helmet from his duffel, along with a small hard case that contained his NVGs. After organizing his equipment, he re-locked his room and walked down to the briefing room. Several men of the 105th already sat inside, chatting amongst themselves. Bodark and Gekko arrived a short time after, and soon all of the contractors and men of Adrian’s team had gathered. The eleven men went silent as the room darkened, a projector was turned on and Adrian walked to the front of the room.

    “Good afternoon men, we have actionable intelligence on local ChDKZ sapper cell.” Began Adrian, speaking in his native Chernarussian. “They attempted to attack a forward base of the 23rd Airborne several nights ago. They were successful at breaching the walls, but the airborne troops fended them off at extremely close range. The remainder of the unit moved to an abandoned building in a run down part of Elektrogorsk. A Heron followed the cell there after the attack and we have been monitoring them for two days. The night shift is light, and they seem to think we have lost them. We want to destroy the cell, destroy any equipment we find, and capture the cell leader and any onsite intel. Insert will be via helicopter, provided by LIAT. The assault team will be led by Tikka, with Bodark as a secondary. Kestrel, along with Lev and Akula will be on overwatch. Reinforcements will be provided by a mechanized unit from the 37th Motorized, callsgin Molotok, along with air support from two AH-6s, callsign Mars. The operation will begin at 0145.”

    The operators scribbled notes onto pads or tablets as more detail was filled out, Bodark translating for the ones who knew only how to say “fuck” in Chernorussian.  At the end of the briefing, Adrian took a few questions, and then adjourned to the team room. Inside the men ate a brief meal before splitting off to their rooms. At dinner, the PMCs agreed on using 6.8, as being quiet would be pointless after the buzzing of the Little Birds’ rotors. Tikka wandered back to his room, and threw on some metal as he began to prepare for the mission. Sliding on his plate carrier, he adjusted it slightly so it sat firmly on his shoulders. Pulling a balaclava over his head, he affixed his Team Wendy helmet over it, and pulled down the headset. Adjusting his radio’s knobs, he positioned the mike over his mouth. Next, he pulled out his M4’s lower, then attached the 6.8 upper. Affixing the suppressor, he pulled out the pre-loaded magazines as well, then loaded them into his chest rig along with several pistol magazines. Pulling on his gloves, he exited his room. Bodark met him outside the building and they walked to the panel van.

    “Ready to go my friend?” asked Tikka, adjusting his gloves.

    “Da, I am always ready to kill Communists, you know of my father” he said in his deep and accented English.

    The operators piled into the vans, which took them to the helipads where the Little Birds were spinning up. The “Ass Monkeys,” as they were known to their ground pounding brethren had the helicopters ready to go as soon as the operators were onboard. The operators rushed to the MH-6s as soon as the vans had halted. Six men boarded one, while three went to the other Little Birds. Tikka braced against the bench as the small helicopter lifted off of the pad and tilted forward. The sun had already set as the black MH-6s swept across the treetops of the Chernarus countryside. Tikka looked through the green tint of his PVS-23s and looked at the ground whipping by. He felt the bird slow as buildings appeared on the horizon, then grow larger. The target house was a three story number with a flat roof. The overwatch team had selected an old hotel that was tall enough to cover most of the white side of the objective and opposite to the house. The overwatch team touched down first, and Kestrel and his two Chernarus partners rapidly clearing the helicopter. Kestrel unslung his REPR and deployed his bipod on the ledge of the hotel.  Looking through his scope, he double checked his dope as the Chernarus team set up their Mk. 20 SSRs.

    The Little Birds had touched down as the snipers got set, with the five man PMC team leading the way

    “Go go go!” yelled Tikka as they cleared the helicopter. The teams had barely evacuated the helicopters as they lifted off as to not draw fire. The team was rapidly consolidated and the stack formed up on the small door that led down to the lower level. Testing the handle, Tikka found it unlocked and slowly pushed it open. The stack flowed inside and down the confined staircase. Bodark led the team down and stopped at the door that led into the third level. From beyond, a sleepy voice was complaining about an odd buzzing noise. This complaint was the last thing to leave his mouth before his world went black. He and his friend had been conversing at the far side of the large living space when the 6.8 rounds found their marks. They dropped like ragdolls as Bodark and the assault team flowed inside.

    “What are you idiots doing?” came a call from the other side of the room. A snapping was heard, then a man exited a small bathroom, still securing his belt. One of the 105th operators shot him twice in the chest, his AK-105 barely making a sound. Clearing out the rest of the room, the team found another set of stairs and descended. Pushing up his NVGs as they encountered a dull light, Tikka peaked around the corner. Obviously the terrorists had noticed the small racket, and Tikka noticed a guard beginning to walk up the stairs.

    “Fellas? You okay up there? What did you idiots break?” he yelled, before two 6.8 SPC rounds smashed into his dome. The body fell with a whump and slid down the stairs. Now the hive had been kicked, and the team began its flow. One man stumbled into the hall as the assaulters filled the hall. In his hand was a Makarov pistol. He didn’t even have time to take off the safety before he was shot in the chest. Splitting into two equal teams, they began to hit each room. Tikka pressed himself against the wall, and pulled out a flashbang. Bodark put his heavy bot to use, bashing in the door. Pulling the pin, Tikka tossed it into the room, where it detonated in a flash and nine loud bangs. Snaking inside, Tikka spotted two men, one had been pulling on a shirt, the other was loading an AK-103. Both were in a daze as the PMC men made their world go dark.

    “Clear!” called Bodark

    On the other side, the Spetsnaz team had come out with one man, dressed in simple pajamas.

    “Team 2 has the target,” said Adrian into his radio.

    “Roger, get him to the roof, then begin collection of any intel you can find. Team 1 will finish the sweep.” replied Tikka.

    Coming up to the last door on the second floor, Bodark again kicked it open. He barely got back on the other side of the wall when a flurry of 7.62x39 rounds came rocketing out. A flashbang was thrown in, and the team filed in. Tikka picked out the man who had gone full auto on the team, shooting him twice in the chest, then once in the head as he fell. Gekko pumped his own three rounds into the other sapper, who had been desperately trying to close the tray on a PKM.

    “Clear, second floor secure! Moving to bottom deck!” yelled Tikka.

    Firebrand led the way down, pausing where the wall on one side gave away to three wooden columns. Pulling an M67 out of one of his pouches, Firebrand pulled the pin, then tossed it in between one of the thin pillars.

    “Cyka!” yelled a voice, which was punctuated by an explosion. A door slammed open, and Firebrand clicked his mike. “Squirters coming out White side.”

    Kestrel looked through the faint haze of his NVG clip on sight and saw one, no two, hostiles come through the front door, one holding his leg and limping as fast as he can.

    “I got left, you got right.” Kestrel whispered to his Chernarussian partner, Lev.  

    Lining up his crosshairs, he slowly squeezed the Geissele trigger. The shot surprised him, and the 168 grain boat tail bullet smashed into its target. The shot from the Chernarussian marksman caught the limping target in the side, sending him to the ground almost simultaneously with Kestrel’s target.

    “хороші кадри.” he said, fist bumping Lev. That had pretty much exhausted his knowledge of the language.

    Sliding down the wall, Tikka peaked the corner, then pulled the pin on a nine banger and threw it into the large living room. Filing down the remaining stairs, the team cleared the room.

    “Tikka, I have a door!” called Gekko from his side of the room. Tikka slid up to the opposite side of the thin door. Testing the handle, he found it was locked, and motioned for Gazelle to shoot the lock out. Swinging around his 870 Breacher, Gazelle jammed the compact 12 gauge against the lock, and squeezed the trigger. The handle shattered into pit and Tikka yanked the door open.

    “Team 2, we got their munitions cache, preparing to destroy it.” he said. “Gazelle, set the charges, the est, sweep for any intelligence material.”

    “Rog’ boss.” said Gazelle, reslinging his Remington. Pulling off his pack, he unzipped it and set the charges onto the crates of what appeared to be Yuktobanian made SEMTEX. Wiring it to his detonator, he unrolled his detcord and primed it. Setting a 10 minute fuse, he motioned to Tikka that he was done and ready to go.

    “Team 1, back to the roof, let’s move!” he barked. The remaining operators finished placing items into sire exploitation bags, and the team remounted the staircase.

    “We called in exfil, ETA, 2 mikes” said Adrian.

    On the roof, Tikka pulled out two IR strobes and tossed them to the ground, and soon the whirring returned, joined by a deeper sound, that of the AS565 that was going to take home their guest. Lowering the gear, the pilot settled down on the roof. Bodark grabbed the prisoner and shoved him into the chopper.

    “Your limo is here asshole.” he snapped in Chernarussian as he stuffed him into the back. Tikka grinned under his balaclava, and soon the Little Birds had touched down, and the remaining operators were aboard. 


    Last edited by Phantomphanatic10 on Sat Oct 15, 2016 6:35 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Some dialogue editing to better define characters.)
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    shomu1
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    Re: Harvest Green

    Post by shomu1 on Fri Oct 14, 2016 9:47 pm

    Not bad.  You may want to take a look at the grammar and punctuation in the latter half of it.  Also, try and convey the diversity in origins of the various speakers through their dialogue style.  Right now they all sound like stereotypical white American dudes.  Non-native speakers would generally be more formal and precise, use fewer contractions and colloquialisms, and perhaps have some sentence structure flukes depending on how bad their English is, for example.


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


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