Young Writers Society

Grif Santana smiled as he finished cleaning the M107. When the rest of the group came in.

"Suit up Santana, we have an op," Commander Caldwell said.

"All right Eagles. Our target is Alejandro Vargas. He's a drug trafficker that the DEA wants. He's got a large property he's using as a staging point. Clive, the satellite imagery," Commander Caldwell said.

"Yes sir." The screen came alive as a large image filled it. There were several warehouses around a large complex. Near the complex was a small airstrip.

"These three warehouses contain drugs. The fourth one near the airstrip is for planes."

"The Colombians will be looking the other way tonight. We'll come in with helos and take the airstrip.

"Brewer, your job is to take out those warehouses."

"Yes sir."

"Santana, your job is to disable any vehicle that Vargas can use to escape. You'll be with Brewer."

"Roger."

"The rest of you will go into the complex and capture Vargas."

"Yes sir!" the rest of the group said.

"Clive, see if you can't get some blueprints. We'll go by plane to Bogota, and to our objective via a helo."

"That's a lot of information, sir."

"You'll have plenty of time to review it Holland. Everyone ready?"

Everyone had their gear. Grif had the Barret M107 and his XM-8 packed. The knife was in it's sheath, next to his sidearm. He had ammunition for all of them, the Barret had armor piercing and HE rounds.

The engines of the helicopter wound up.

"Let's move!" Commander Caldwell said.

Kobi raised his hand.
"Sir, what is the OPMOD of the mission?" he asked.
Caldwell replied "Small Unit Assault and Inflitration. Any other questions?"
"Yeah," Kobi said. "Who are group leaders? What is the full plan of attack? Basically, how is this going to be run?"
Caldwell smiled ruefully.
"Well Kobi, since you seem to know how this is done, you are. Everybody, Kobi is team leader for this op. As for a full breifing, report back here as soon as your weapons are squared away"

OOC: Grif, you should edit your post. It passed 90 minutes really quickly. I think we should try to fit in a quick briefing or something. I meant for the mission to be unexpected and used by Caldwell to see how much "chemistry" we have, but we do have a little time to get equiment, chit chat and loosely plan. Anyone agree with me?

OOC:I agree

I'm not sure how you want me to edit it.

Add more on its bones. Don't pass 90 minutes through one post.

Phoenix merely nodded through the entire briefing. He'd been trained not to question orders, but follow them. Now, he didn't always follow his training, but this time it seemed as though the CO had come through and given them a decent, well planned mission. There simply were no questions to ask.

As he stepped out of the briefing room (the first one out, a step ahead of Santana), he planned in his head the equipment he'd take. All his weapons had been cleared (after a short debate about his sniper rifle), and he was good to go. From the briefing, it sounded like there would be no long range fire, so he immediately grabbed for his custom SCAR system when he reached his quarters. He unzipped the second of his two bags, which contained a series of parts and add-ons for his rifles, all utilizing the custom rails he added to the guns.

He pulled a 2-5x magnification scope from the bag, then attached it via the quick release screws at the base of the scope. The scope was quickly followed by a sound suppressor and a laser sight.

Phoenix dropped the rifle on his cot unloaded, knowing full well that he could load up on ammunition at the depot before they left.

Turning immediately to the closet in the room, he assumed there would be a uniform hanging there. Opening the door, he found none, just a note hanging from a wire hanger.

Sorry, the uniforms have been delayed. We're replacing them with some upgrades. Maybe they'll keep you alive a bit longer.

--Caldwell

Chuckling at Nate's macabre humor, Phoenix shut the closet and spread the second bag on his bed a bit wider. Pulling forth a smaller bag, he opened that one as well, revealing a small stack of clothing, including two pairs of jeans, a few tee shirts, two of them skin tight Under Armor brand, a full bodysuit of camouflage Under Armor, and a pair of shorts.

Grinning from ear to ear, Phoenix slipped on the jeans and one of the skin tight Under Armor tees, then pulled on his combat boots and headed to the armory.

After a minute of twists and turns, he finally reached a familiar door and pressed his palm on the reader. The door slid open soundlessly, revealing a large room filled with lockers, shelves, and a small shooting range.

"Groovy," Phoenix said as he strode over the row of lockers, all of which were labeled with the names of the new EAGLES. He went to his locker and popped it open. Inside, as he'd hoped, was a full set of field equipment; Tactical Vest, belt, knee and elbow pads, helmet with headset, and tactical backpack.

"Perfect." He grinned. He slipped on the vest and pads, then pulled the backpack from the locker and moved to the weapons portion of the room. He quickly filled the pockets of the tactical vest with magazines for his SCAR, then reached out and plucked a standard issue Beretta from one of the many shelves of guns. He checked it, double checked it, then loaded it and holstered it, slipping it in to the built in holster o his belt that was clipped around his thigh. He took two spare clips for the sidearm and slipped them alongside the pistol itself.

Locked, cocked and ready to rock, Corporal Hunter strode back to the lockers and plucked the helmet from the hanger. He strapped it on, checked the battery in the headset, then turned it on.

"Testing one-two, testing one-two; Corporal Hunter here, ready to roll."

He waited for a response, got none, and began repeating the phrase every minute or so until he got one.

Pulling on a pair of fingerless leather gloves, he was about to walk out before he spotted a box of fragmentation grenades.

"Christmas comes early in...er...wherever the Hell we are," he said to himself.

Taking two from the crate, he clipped them to his vest as a finishing touch.

OOC: No editting is necessary, really...Grif just can't post until we've all gotten caught up with his character in the chopper.

(I can sit around and wait. No problems.)

OOC: I might be gone for a day or two. So, if I am, someboy can take my character. Just be good to him. =)

Having not found a uniform either, Brewer slipped into a pair of jeans and a black sweater that he'd cut the sleeves off of. Then he put on all the body armor his locker had to offer and went to the armory. He got a whole bunch of demo, his SPAS12 and one of the SCARS with a grenade attachment before he met Santana and Hunter in the chopper.

00C: Sorr I had to rush.

"Kobi! come here i want to go over some stuff with you about the mission seeing your in charge" Clive said.

"What've you got for me?" kobi replied

"Ok, I've found them and I am decoding, give me a good 30 minutes to decode and download the blue prints. Huh" Clive said thoughtfully.

"what is it?" kobi asked

"Not much tech there, and security is suprisingly low for a drug operation of that caliber, hold on let me check something; oh that's why. This could be an issue." Clive ended thoughtfully.

"What now?" kobi said casually

"Forget what i said about the security earlier; this is gonna be a serious pain in the neck. Firstly they have guards constantly patrolling 1 minute behind the next, also they go in pairs. Another thing is that there are infrared beams constantly moving in no particular pattern. Also cameras in every room, it looks like they have most angles covered" Clive said as he flipped through different camera's showing the guards milling about. "Wait! I'm picking up some of their conversation."

"The deal *static* 10 mil *more static* Phil Banks *static* betrayal *static* HEY BOSS!"

"Here watch this camera here are the two people and I've id this one as Phil banks, nickname "dozer". He's the business partner/body guard of Vargas. Look hes drawing his gun. F*CK! I've lost video feed from all the camera's!"

Vargas: "what's up Phil?"
banks: "You tried to pull one on me"
Vargas: "What are you talking about?"
Banks: "That deal with Andres"

"I've got video again, someones been planning something"

Thug 1: "boss, the deal is going down in 16 hours, you ok? Phil whats-- *gunshots*" as the thug's brains are splattered across the wall and partially on Vargas. Vargas just stares down the barrel of Banks' gun.
Vargas: "Why you shoot him Phil, he was my second favorite man" He asked clearly sweating and backing away, his hands up.
Banks: "He was in the way, now back to business. You secretly did a deal with Andres, i want my g*d d*amned money Vargas!" He said advancing.
Vargas: "w-what are you talking abou-- *gunshots heard as banks blows off Vargas' left kneecap and Vargas collapses*
Banks: "Now im gonna ask you again, What did you do with my f*cking money?"
Vargas: "Its under the desk, remove the carpet, and then there's a safe" he said grunting in pain while trying to place pressure to stop the bleeding in his shattered knee. "The safe is fingerprint, and the code is 567895112-0012-42"
Banks: "You wouldn't be lying to me would you?"
Vargas: "No no no, never!"
Banks: "were never a good liar vargas" he said blowing off his other knee. "Now what is the real code?"
Vargas: "429912301-839-11, now you have what you want, help me?"
Banks: "Thank you vargas for that." he said as 5 men loyal to banks came from the doors cocking AK-47's.
Vargas: "Banks no, you can't do this to me --" the men open up, each emptying their clips.
Banks: "Burn the body, we've got a deal in 16 hours, kill all men not willing to swear to me"

"Ruthless b*stards" Clive said sitting back in his chair. "oh yes the security, the beams i can take care of, but for any reason if they get back online, the mercs carry sensors somewhere on their persons that shuts off the beams when they walk by, so they don't set off the alarm. I'll just loop the camera's so they shouldn't be a problem. Also they will be in somewhat chaos with a deal going down and a change of power. I'm gonna get these blue prints, that's all the intel i can give you at the moment, so now the primary target is Banks, he's also in your computers if you want to do a little research before we take off, but be quick."

"right" kobi said as he ran off.

Holland got his stuff together. He'd barely had a chance to talk to anybody before the briefing began, and now everybody was getting ready alone. It was strange, he thought, to have a team do a mission when they weren't properly bonded. What he had been taught in the British Army and the SAS was that teamwork was everything -- ever since the start of warfare, from Greek hoplites to modern special forces, everything relied on trust with your battle brothers.

He hadn't even picked up their names yet.

He sighed and checked over his Heckler & Kock submachine-gun, the traditional weapon of all Special Forces teams in the world. it wasn't fancy, but it did the job it needed to brilliantly. He had seen the other guys boasting about their "toys" or their "babies". Holland didn't understand it. A gun was a gun. It killed people. It wasn't anything special.

He dressed himself in black combat attire, then strapped on a body armour vest and holstered his pistol. He added some grenades -- fragmentation and smoke, just in case -- and then, as always, put the picture of his wife and kid in his top pocket, kissing it before it disappeared.

He left his room, and went to analyse the information the briefing had provided, so he could check over and over what they were about to do. Preparation was his strong point.

Phoenix stepped out of the armory, SCAR slung over his shoulder, and strode purposefully toward what he thought he remembered was the direction of the helipad. On the way the barracks; he thought he'd stop by and make sure everyone was coming along before he himself headed to the pad.

Only one door was open, close to the end of the hallway. As he walked over to the doorway, hoping to catch another EAGLE before they departed, he was pleased to see the English member of the group stride out of his the room, his eyes attention obviously in the hasty report Caldwell had printed out for them.

"Hey yo!" Phoenix said. He mentally slapped himself for using the two words that made him sound most like the stereotypical American.

The young man stopped mid-stride, his shoulders visibly tightening at the sound of being "Yoed" at. He glanced over his shoulder and said "Ready to move?"

Phoenix grinned and said "As I ever am, I suppose. Corporal Phoenix Hunter, United States Marine Corps." Phoenix paused, not really sure whether he should salute or extend his hand. He decided to be proper as a first impression, although the "Yo" probably ruined his chance with making a good first. He snapped off a sharp salute, then reached over and adjusted the shoulder sling on his rifle, which had begun to slip off his shoulder.

Holland saluted smartly back, surprised by the man's appearence. He had just lost himself looking at possible entry points to the warehouses, and Phoenix Hunter interruption had caught him off-guard.

"Lieutenant Jay Holland, 22nd Regiment of the Special Air Services of the British Army," he responded. "Although I have no idea how our rank corresponds here, I think we're all equal. Do you even know who's leading this thing?"

"That would be me," Kobi replied, walking up behind them, quickly closing stride.
"I'm sorry, I haven't formally introduced myself to most of you. Staff Sergeant Kobi Shimoni, 93 Battalion Golani Commandos, attached to the 82nd Sayeret Matkal Brigade, Israel Defense Force, and I think Caldwell put me in Command, although I'm not sure I want it" Kobi extended his hand, throwing formality to the wind. After all, the IDF wasn't nearly as formal as the other military services represented here.
Kobi had a Galil MAR slung over his shoulder, as well as a Colt .45 M1911A1 and his many close combat weapons. He was decked out head to foot in combat garb--brown Golani combat boots, olive drab pants and shirt, with camoflauge pattern on the shirt and helmet, a camoflauge patterened flak vest and knee and elbow pads. His helmet had camoflauge netting and a state of the art headset which he called his "maddonna", after the singer.
"You all ready to ride?"