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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4299565" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Hot Air: Part 5 – Bombs Away!</strong></p><p></p><p>Guppy was still struggling to figure out how to deactivate the manual bomb when the booby trap he rigged at the entrance went off. </p><p></p><p>The luggage was a gold mine of devices he could use to his advantage. Guppy tied his stun gun to a fishing pole and tied it with fishing line to the door’s handle. It was a crude device, but its value was proven as the first terrorist to open the door got a jolt to the throat.</p><p></p><p>Guppy looked around. Both agents had parachutes, but to fit into the service elevator Hammer had left his behind. </p><p></p><p>“Guppy,” said Hammer, his voice taking on a carefully modulated tone, “I can’t let them get into the cargo bay.”</p><p></p><p>The door shuddered. Heavy luggage was piled in front of it. Guppy tried to give himself every advantage he could.</p><p></p><p>“I know,” said Guppy.</p><p></p><p>“Then you know what we have to do.”</p><p></p><p>The Indianational planes were specially built to be both cargo and passenger planes, which made them not particularly good at either. </p><p></p><p>“Yes.” Guppy dropped what he was doing and shrugged his parachute on. He tapped a few keys on his cistron, enabling the override of the main cargo bay door. </p><p></p><p>Yellow warning lights flicked on and a klaxon roared as the huge door began to open. Guppy pulled his breathing mask over his face.</p><p></p><p>The terrorists redoubled their efforts to shoulder through the luggage. </p><p></p><p>Guppy snapped the second parachute that he attached to the supersarin bomb to himself. The bomb and Guppy were sandwiched between the two parachutes.</p><p></p><p>The wind roared as the door opened wide, flinging cameras and ladies underthings into the void. Guppy looked back just in time to see the terrorists burst through the doorway.</p><p></p><p>Then they were drew back from him, becoming smaller and smaller, firing at him with their tiny toy guns, shouting in a language who couldn’t hear from the shrieking of the wind all around him. </p><p></p><p>It got quieter. He was falling.</p><p></p><p>Guppy prayed. Then he pulled his parachute.</p><p></p><p>He was immediately yanked upward. To his amazement, the supersarin held. Guppy comforted himself with the knowledge that if he died, it would be instantaneous. </p><p></p><p>Jets roared past him. Polish jets. Poland has recently enacted a law that allowed the shooting of hijacked planes. </p><p></p><p>But where was he falling?</p><p></p><p>Guppy looked down. It was beautiful. Dusk was settling in. Whatever city it was, it had old spires. He knew he couldn’t have been in Russia, but it had that old world Eastern European feel.</p><p></p><p>His parachute jerked and pulled. Two other men, screaming prayers, sailed past him. </p><p></p><p>There was a tearing sound. Guppy looked up. </p><p></p><p>The terrorists had jumped out of the plane. They knew that all it took was one of them to bring him down. And the death of millions.</p><p></p><p>Guppy released the chute. The terrorist’s scream was taken by the screaming winds.</p><p></p><p>Something slammed into him, hard. Another terrorist, his eyes crusted over from the freezing cold, had grabbed onto his waist. He fumbled for his knife. All it would take was one puncture of the container…</p><p></p><p>Guppy pushed one hand out, but the descent made it difficult for him to control his movements. He struggled to push the man away.</p><p></p><p>The knife was out. He caught a glimpse of it flickering in the decaying sunlight through his mask. </p><p></p><p>Guppy struggled to stop the man. The terrorist was chanting something, but Guppy couldn’t hear him. He headbutted the man, but still he hung on. The knife shuddered closer…</p><p></p><p>Guppy pulled the second parachute on the bomb itself. The force of the sudden deceleration was all he needed. The terrorist lost his grip and went screaming upwards, flailing as he went.</p><p></p><p>And slowly, Guppy floated to the ground. His left arm felt numb. It was probably dislocated.</p><p></p><p>Guppy struggled to guide the parachute. He wasn’t going to be able to hang on for much longer. </p><p></p><p>He looked down. Guppy’s jumpsuit was stained. He’d been stabbed. Great.</p><p></p><p>He caught sight of a large spire jabbing upwards into the heavens. He changed course and head for it.</p><p></p><p>Guppy was not an experienced parachutist. He overestimated the distance and was rewarded with a tearing sound as his parachute was snagged by the top of the spire. </p><p></p><p>And there he hung, with a bomb strapped to his chest.</p><p></p><p>Guppy tore of his mask. He was drenched in sweat. </p><p></p><p>A crowd was down below him, staring and pointing. If they only knew what he had strapped to his chest…</p><p></p><p>“Bomb secure,” rasped Guppy into his comm. link. “Repeat, bomb secure.”</p><p></p><p>“Great!” said Hammer. “Now can someone tell me how to land this thing?”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4299565, member: 3285"] [b]Hot Air: Part 5 – Bombs Away![/b] Guppy was still struggling to figure out how to deactivate the manual bomb when the booby trap he rigged at the entrance went off. The luggage was a gold mine of devices he could use to his advantage. Guppy tied his stun gun to a fishing pole and tied it with fishing line to the door’s handle. It was a crude device, but its value was proven as the first terrorist to open the door got a jolt to the throat. Guppy looked around. Both agents had parachutes, but to fit into the service elevator Hammer had left his behind. “Guppy,” said Hammer, his voice taking on a carefully modulated tone, “I can’t let them get into the cargo bay.” The door shuddered. Heavy luggage was piled in front of it. Guppy tried to give himself every advantage he could. “I know,” said Guppy. “Then you know what we have to do.” The Indianational planes were specially built to be both cargo and passenger planes, which made them not particularly good at either. “Yes.” Guppy dropped what he was doing and shrugged his parachute on. He tapped a few keys on his cistron, enabling the override of the main cargo bay door. Yellow warning lights flicked on and a klaxon roared as the huge door began to open. Guppy pulled his breathing mask over his face. The terrorists redoubled their efforts to shoulder through the luggage. Guppy snapped the second parachute that he attached to the supersarin bomb to himself. The bomb and Guppy were sandwiched between the two parachutes. The wind roared as the door opened wide, flinging cameras and ladies underthings into the void. Guppy looked back just in time to see the terrorists burst through the doorway. Then they were drew back from him, becoming smaller and smaller, firing at him with their tiny toy guns, shouting in a language who couldn’t hear from the shrieking of the wind all around him. It got quieter. He was falling. Guppy prayed. Then he pulled his parachute. He was immediately yanked upward. To his amazement, the supersarin held. Guppy comforted himself with the knowledge that if he died, it would be instantaneous. Jets roared past him. Polish jets. Poland has recently enacted a law that allowed the shooting of hijacked planes. But where was he falling? Guppy looked down. It was beautiful. Dusk was settling in. Whatever city it was, it had old spires. He knew he couldn’t have been in Russia, but it had that old world Eastern European feel. His parachute jerked and pulled. Two other men, screaming prayers, sailed past him. There was a tearing sound. Guppy looked up. The terrorists had jumped out of the plane. They knew that all it took was one of them to bring him down. And the death of millions. Guppy released the chute. The terrorist’s scream was taken by the screaming winds. Something slammed into him, hard. Another terrorist, his eyes crusted over from the freezing cold, had grabbed onto his waist. He fumbled for his knife. All it would take was one puncture of the container… Guppy pushed one hand out, but the descent made it difficult for him to control his movements. He struggled to push the man away. The knife was out. He caught a glimpse of it flickering in the decaying sunlight through his mask. Guppy struggled to stop the man. The terrorist was chanting something, but Guppy couldn’t hear him. He headbutted the man, but still he hung on. The knife shuddered closer… Guppy pulled the second parachute on the bomb itself. The force of the sudden deceleration was all he needed. The terrorist lost his grip and went screaming upwards, flailing as he went. And slowly, Guppy floated to the ground. His left arm felt numb. It was probably dislocated. Guppy struggled to guide the parachute. He wasn’t going to be able to hang on for much longer. He looked down. Guppy’s jumpsuit was stained. He’d been stabbed. Great. He caught sight of a large spire jabbing upwards into the heavens. He changed course and head for it. Guppy was not an experienced parachutist. He overestimated the distance and was rewarded with a tearing sound as his parachute was snagged by the top of the spire. And there he hung, with a bomb strapped to his chest. Guppy tore of his mask. He was drenched in sweat. A crowd was down below him, staring and pointing. If they only knew what he had strapped to his chest… “Bomb secure,” rasped Guppy into his comm. link. “Repeat, bomb secure.” “Great!” said Hammer. “Now can someone tell me how to land this thing?” [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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