Ashrem Bayle
Explorer
Wraith nodded thenstood, ready to begin preperations.
OOC: Guys? Heelllooooo?
OOC: Guys? Heelllooooo?
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[Metal Joe d20 Modern] No Rest for the Nameless [PG-17]
- Thread starter Krizzel
- Start date
Krizzel
First Post
Tyrell shrugged as he ushered everyone out the door and into the hallway towards the locker room, Lieutenant Hauser scooping up his things and following along behind. "That doesn't matter so much. They're going to know it was us, even if they don't see us. What we want is to make sure they don't have any proof - discarded equipment, hostages, things like that." The Sergeant Major grinned. "Words we can deny - if we leave fingerprints it's a little harder though."
OOC: He'll go get any extra equipment you want while you guys get your wet suits and parachutes. Perivas you can fill that extra five pounds of yours with whatever you like - we'll assume you already had it. For anything extra you guys want (beyond your normal gear) - see the OOC thread. I'll post how much space there is over there in a moment.
Krizzel
First Post
Carlsberg AFB…
Crates of equipment in black, watertight floatation cases, already strapped with parachutes, were being towed up into the cavernous aft hatch of a C-130S, its props already spinning as they idled up. Mad Dog stood at the bottom of the ramp, watching as his six new men walked out onto the runway. The floodlights on the hangars behind them turned them into a matched set of silhouettes, some bigger, some faster, but all with a dangerous air of lethality about them. They came to stand before their new commanding officer, huge parachutes on their backs and oxygen masks in their hands, waiting for his final approval.
“Okay,” Major ‘Mad Dog’ Anderson began simply, yelling over the noise of the runway. “You know what to do. Get out there and get our guys home safe – and yourselves too! Remember,” he admonished, wagging a finger at them, “failure is not an option! Now move, move, move!!!”
Crates of equipment in black, watertight floatation cases, already strapped with parachutes, were being towed up into the cavernous aft hatch of a C-130S, its props already spinning as they idled up. Mad Dog stood at the bottom of the ramp, watching as his six new men walked out onto the runway. The floodlights on the hangars behind them turned them into a matched set of silhouettes, some bigger, some faster, but all with a dangerous air of lethality about them. They came to stand before their new commanding officer, huge parachutes on their backs and oxygen masks in their hands, waiting for his final approval.
“Okay,” Major ‘Mad Dog’ Anderson began simply, yelling over the noise of the runway. “You know what to do. Get out there and get our guys home safe – and yourselves too! Remember,” he admonished, wagging a finger at them, “failure is not an option! Now move, move, move!!!”
Krizzel
First Post
September 2nd, 2015
0557 hours, Washington time
Pacific Ocean
The stars were exceptionally bright out here, amid the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean without humanity’s light to drown them out. Even with no moonlight the night felt bright – but even the luminous swath of the galaxy’s cross-section had trouble revealing the clutch of plummeting soldiers from the inky sky.
The air itself clawed at them, futilely trying to hold them up, but it held no power over gravity. Silently they fell through the empty black, each holding onto a crate as big as himself and standing by to pull its ripcord before he pulled his own. Farther and farther they went, deep down until they were beneath the view of any radar.
It was a fall that taxed even the skills of these elite men, but they didn’t show it, and suddenly black parachutes blossomed in the sky as one, blooms of death laid on a marked man’s pillow. They braked their payloads just in time, and crates and soldiers alike splashed into the gentle waves below.
Working quickly, Wraith, Snake, Blaster, and Evac gathered up the floating crates into one barge-like block, tossing their discarded parachute gear on top, while Zeus and Crane inflated the rubber assault boat. It was good, sturdy hardware – made for the SEALs – and it puffed up quickly and quietly from its compact package.
The craft’s motor was reasonably silent too, and soon they were headed towards San Carmo, towing the barge of crates along behind…
0557 hours, Washington time
Pacific Ocean
The stars were exceptionally bright out here, amid the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean without humanity’s light to drown them out. Even with no moonlight the night felt bright – but even the luminous swath of the galaxy’s cross-section had trouble revealing the clutch of plummeting soldiers from the inky sky.
The air itself clawed at them, futilely trying to hold them up, but it held no power over gravity. Silently they fell through the empty black, each holding onto a crate as big as himself and standing by to pull its ripcord before he pulled his own. Farther and farther they went, deep down until they were beneath the view of any radar.
It was a fall that taxed even the skills of these elite men, but they didn’t show it, and suddenly black parachutes blossomed in the sky as one, blooms of death laid on a marked man’s pillow. They braked their payloads just in time, and crates and soldiers alike splashed into the gentle waves below.
Working quickly, Wraith, Snake, Blaster, and Evac gathered up the floating crates into one barge-like block, tossing their discarded parachute gear on top, while Zeus and Crane inflated the rubber assault boat. It was good, sturdy hardware – made for the SEALs – and it puffed up quickly and quietly from its compact package.
The craft’s motor was reasonably silent too, and soon they were headed towards San Carmo, towing the barge of crates along behind…
Ashrem Bayle
Explorer
Wraith sat at the front of the boat going over his gear. He made sure his magazines where full and clean and slapped one into his rifle and one into his sidearm on his hip.
He leaned forward, and slipped his nightvision goggles down to better illuminate the night. As it came into sight, he scanned the coast for surprises. He didn't like surprises.
"Everybody ready to get their hands dirty?" He was grinning, but you couldn't see it behind the black mask and goggles that covered his face.
He leaned forward, and slipped his nightvision goggles down to better illuminate the night. As it came into sight, he scanned the coast for surprises. He didn't like surprises.
"Everybody ready to get their hands dirty?" He was grinning, but you couldn't see it behind the black mask and goggles that covered his face.
perivas
First Post
Evac is tinkering and checking over his gear on the ride. He keeps to himself and simply nods at the others' comments. He readies his big gun as they approach the shore in case of resistance.
OOC: I'll spend some of my personal weight on a gas mask and 2 tear gas grenades. I might change this if the others feel that this is not a likely tactic for us, although I worry about what we can do if they us the hostages as shields.
OOC: I'll spend some of my personal weight on a gas mask and 2 tear gas grenades. I might change this if the others feel that this is not a likely tactic for us, although I worry about what we can do if they us the hostages as shields.
DM_Matt
First Post
"I'm down with the dirty. If we're gunna go through the trouble of coming all the way over here to fight 'em, we might as well make sure that none of 'em come back and bite us in the @$$ later. These guys do this sh*t for a living. Any of 'em that escape alive we, or someone else like us, are only going to have to kill later.
Regarding tear gas grendades and gas masks, either we all have masks and some have grenades, we just keep a few grenades arund just in case, maybe to cover a retreat. Same goes for flashbangs and eye/ear protection."
Regarding tear gas grendades and gas masks, either we all have masks and some have grenades, we just keep a few grenades arund just in case, maybe to cover a retreat. Same goes for flashbangs and eye/ear protection."
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