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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4247171" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>PX Poker Night: Part 8 – The Snow Plow</strong></p><p></p><p>Guppy, Caprice, Long, Hammer, and O’Shea met at the snowplow. </p><p></p><p>Several hangers had been turned into parking garages for the base’s vehicles. O’Shea was in the idling two-and-a-half-ton three-axle truck with a snowplow mounted on the front. </p><p></p><p>“No luck on the weapons,” said Guppy. “I got through the first two locks, but the third is a combination. I could break into it if I had my tools, but we don’t have the time.”</p><p></p><p>“Did you find anything in Sprague’s room that might suggest a combination?” Hammer asked Caprice.</p><p></p><p>Caprice shook his head. “Nope. But I did find a stack of papers talking about a SONNET device. Something about all non-MOONDUST personnel deemed expendable.”</p><p></p><p>“S$%t,” cursed O’Shea. “You think they mean us?”</p><p></p><p>“You could say that.” Caprice handed O’Shea a color print out with his photo on it. “They’ve got profiles on all twelve of us.”</p><p></p><p>“Whatever this SONNET thing is, it’s got to be in that van,” said Hammer. “O’Shea? On my mark, you ram the van. Keep the plow up and in front of the windshield for as long as you can.”</p><p></p><p>“Right.” O’Shea revved the engine.</p><p></p><p>“Bach, Long had the only M-16. So you’re going to have to get it off his dead body. It’s about forty yards out from the van. Think you can get to it?”</p><p></p><p>Bach’s expression was grim. “If O’Shea can provide enough of a distraction, maybe. What about you guys?”</p><p></p><p>“We’re going to loop around back and come at them from the other side. Hopefully, one of us will make it.”</p><p></p><p>“This is a s&!++y plan,” said Bach. </p><p></p><p>“It’s the best we’ve got,” said Hammer. He drew his Glock. “On my mark. Ready? Go!”</p><p></p><p>The truck squealed into action, peeling out with the huge plow blade at the forefront. Running behind it for a few yards, Hammer, Caprice, Guppy, and Bach ran at a full-out clip behind it.</p><p></p><p>Gunfire started peppering the plow. Hammer, Caprice, and Guppy peeled off to the left. Bach peeled off to the right, sprinting towards Long’s body. </p><p></p><p>They fired their pistols blindly, but the guards didn’t flinch. </p><p></p><p>Bach made it to Long’s body. He dove to the ground and came up with the M-16. </p><p></p><p>“I don’t believe it,” panted Caprice. “This is actually going to…”</p><p></p><p>Gunfire continued to pepper the truck with the snowplow. Suddenly, O’Shea jerked the wheel, turning the truck so hard that it nearly tipped over. </p><p></p><p>Bach inserted a clip into the M-16 and lifted it to his shoulder. </p><p></p><p>“BACH!” shouted Hammer. “LOOK OUT!”</p><p></p><p>Bach was so intent on firing at the van that he didn’t have time to react. The plow blade ripped his torso upwards, snapping organs and tendons. Bach let out a brief shriek before his lungs fell out of his rib cage. The truck thump-thumped over his legs.</p><p></p><p>“Jesus!” shouted Caprice.</p><p></p><p>“Hot Pants, give me your gun!” Hammer pointed at the plow. “Get that thing moving!”</p><p></p><p>Caprice tossed his pistol to Hammer. Then he and Guppy sprinted to the idling truck.</p><p></p><p>Hammer fired a series of well-placed shots at the van, still advancing. This time the shots were on target enough to give the guards pause. They took cover around the side of the van, returning burst fire.</p><p></p><p>Caprice made it to the plow. O’Shea was dead; his sudden turn had exposed him to machinegun fire. </p><p></p><p>Caprice was in the middle of reaching for the door handle when he fell to the ground, clutching his eyes.</p><p></p><p>“What is wrong?” asked Guppy.</p><p></p><p>“The lights! Can’t you see them? Ahhh!”</p><p></p><p>Guppy opened the door and rolled O’Shea’s body out. Then he dragged Caprice to his feet and shoved him into the truck. </p><p></p><p>Machinegun fire echoed beyond the truck’s plow. Hammer was keeping the guards busy, but even a crack shot like him couldn’t keep them occupied for long.</p><p></p><p>Guppy clambered into the truck. “Hold on tight,” he shouted.</p><p></p><p>Guppy released the clutch and slammed his foot on the gas pedal.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4247171, member: 3285"] [b]PX Poker Night: Part 8 – The Snow Plow[/b] Guppy, Caprice, Long, Hammer, and O’Shea met at the snowplow. Several hangers had been turned into parking garages for the base’s vehicles. O’Shea was in the idling two-and-a-half-ton three-axle truck with a snowplow mounted on the front. “No luck on the weapons,” said Guppy. “I got through the first two locks, but the third is a combination. I could break into it if I had my tools, but we don’t have the time.” “Did you find anything in Sprague’s room that might suggest a combination?” Hammer asked Caprice. Caprice shook his head. “Nope. But I did find a stack of papers talking about a SONNET device. Something about all non-MOONDUST personnel deemed expendable.” “S$%t,” cursed O’Shea. “You think they mean us?” “You could say that.” Caprice handed O’Shea a color print out with his photo on it. “They’ve got profiles on all twelve of us.” “Whatever this SONNET thing is, it’s got to be in that van,” said Hammer. “O’Shea? On my mark, you ram the van. Keep the plow up and in front of the windshield for as long as you can.” “Right.” O’Shea revved the engine. “Bach, Long had the only M-16. So you’re going to have to get it off his dead body. It’s about forty yards out from the van. Think you can get to it?” Bach’s expression was grim. “If O’Shea can provide enough of a distraction, maybe. What about you guys?” “We’re going to loop around back and come at them from the other side. Hopefully, one of us will make it.” “This is a s&!++y plan,” said Bach. “It’s the best we’ve got,” said Hammer. He drew his Glock. “On my mark. Ready? Go!” The truck squealed into action, peeling out with the huge plow blade at the forefront. Running behind it for a few yards, Hammer, Caprice, Guppy, and Bach ran at a full-out clip behind it. Gunfire started peppering the plow. Hammer, Caprice, and Guppy peeled off to the left. Bach peeled off to the right, sprinting towards Long’s body. They fired their pistols blindly, but the guards didn’t flinch. Bach made it to Long’s body. He dove to the ground and came up with the M-16. “I don’t believe it,” panted Caprice. “This is actually going to…” Gunfire continued to pepper the truck with the snowplow. Suddenly, O’Shea jerked the wheel, turning the truck so hard that it nearly tipped over. Bach inserted a clip into the M-16 and lifted it to his shoulder. “BACH!” shouted Hammer. “LOOK OUT!” Bach was so intent on firing at the van that he didn’t have time to react. The plow blade ripped his torso upwards, snapping organs and tendons. Bach let out a brief shriek before his lungs fell out of his rib cage. The truck thump-thumped over his legs. “Jesus!” shouted Caprice. “Hot Pants, give me your gun!” Hammer pointed at the plow. “Get that thing moving!” Caprice tossed his pistol to Hammer. Then he and Guppy sprinted to the idling truck. Hammer fired a series of well-placed shots at the van, still advancing. This time the shots were on target enough to give the guards pause. They took cover around the side of the van, returning burst fire. Caprice made it to the plow. O’Shea was dead; his sudden turn had exposed him to machinegun fire. Caprice was in the middle of reaching for the door handle when he fell to the ground, clutching his eyes. “What is wrong?” asked Guppy. “The lights! Can’t you see them? Ahhh!” Guppy opened the door and rolled O’Shea’s body out. Then he dragged Caprice to his feet and shoved him into the truck. Machinegun fire echoed beyond the truck’s plow. Hammer was keeping the guards busy, but even a crack shot like him couldn’t keep them occupied for long. Guppy clambered into the truck. “Hold on tight,” he shouted. Guppy released the clutch and slammed his foot on the gas pedal. [/QUOTE]
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