Young Writers Society

The operatives began to emerge from the plane.

Two colombians in a truck started shooting.

Kobi and Brewer returned fire as Holland, Foxx, and Frealand ran to a low wall surrounding the main house.

Santana and Hunter advanced on the truck.

Kobi and Brewer turned towards eachother and agreed to use the buddy sytem.

More shots rang out from the house and the EAGLES returned fire.

As they all disembarked from the ruined jet, Kobi was already ready to go. He had put himself on point, his weapon drawn, cocked and "ready to rock" as they say, and more jumped from the still moving plane than ran out of a crashed fuselage. He ran quickly towards a low wall to use for a grouping point, where the others followed him, in order to regroup and manage the firefight.
"All teammembers, this is Kobi," he said clearly in his earpiece, which he called the "madonna". "As you already most likely know, the LZ is hot. I repeat LZ is hot. regroup at checkpoint Alpha." This was the desegnation that the wall was given during the original briefing.
Within seconds, the entire EAGLES team had assembled behind the fence, waiting for some sort of instructions. While they were trained a long time ago to think on their feet, this was more or less unknown operation procedure in an unknown arena with unknown teammates, so even the sharpest, most professional SPEC OPS soldier needed instructions at this stage.
"Okay, count off boys, real quick, make sure we're all squared away," Kobi said.
"Brewer?"
"Ready to Roll"
"Hunter?"
"Good to Go"
"Santana?"
"Ready to Rock!"
"Frealand?"
"Presnet and accounted for"
"Foxx?"
"Squared away, Sir!"
"Holland?"
"Good to go"
"Commander?"
"I'm here"
"Alright, good. We're all locked, cocked and ready to rock. Okay, here's the plan. Pair up. Plan's changed. We're going in now, first and foremost to eliminate the threat, copy? If it moves, and isn't one of us, it dies, got it? Holland, Santana, I want you around the back towards that armory. Set up a defensive perimeter there, and lay down suppressive fire. Hunter, Frealand, go around the left flank, eliminate all resistance. In this central command and control room here" Kobi pointed to the point on the map he had withdrawn from his pocket, "there is the command center. Here is the safe for the drugs, as well as where all orders are issued here to all their men. Eliminate it. Brewer, you and I will move around the right flank, eliminate all opposition here, and eliminate all modes of transportation in or out. Well, except one for us. We're going to meet Frealand and Hunter in the epicenter here, and then the four of us are going to rendezvous with Holland and Santana here," he said, pointing to the map, and continuing,"where we will all attack the armory here, either destroying or confisacting everything possible. Hooah?"
"HOOAH" the team echoed.
"Alright, lets go"

OOC: So, ah.....we have conflicting stories here. What's up?

OOC: I didn't know what to do, so I tried to like, unite the stories. Obviously, I failed.

I'll yield to your post.

Santana moved to keep up with Holland. He held his XM-8 at the ready, scanning from left to right.

A man popped into view, Holland quickly raised his gun and hit him with a silenced burst. The man crumpled.

Santana followed.

"Kobi, Holland. We're in position. Let us know when you need that suppresive fire."

"Let's get some boxes formed up so we can have some cover," Santana said. He put his weapon down and grabbed the nearest crate. Three crates later, he picked up his XM-8.

"What now?"

"Keep tight."

Two more men ran through an open door way with AK-47s. Santana took the first down, as Holland raised his H&K Sub-Machine gun and killed the second. The crates were offering rudimentary cover, but under heavy fire the two men would be forced to retreat.

The sound of gunfire could be heard on all sides; sprayed silenced bursts with louder, clunkier shots interspersed together.

Holland and Santana heard Hunter's voice scream through their earpieces. "Holy shit! We're meeting heavy resistance! Repeat, we are meeting heavy resistance!"

Seconds after the message came two explosions to their left.

"Looks like we got company too," muttered Santana, as more men poured out from the Armoury. He aimed his XM-8 but ducked down as two men appeared on the roof, drowning them in bullets. They thudded into the crates, splintering and destroying the barrier, as Holland and Santana threw themselves to the ground.

They darted backwards, keeping down as fire from all directions came toward their position. Holland swore. "Position compromised!" he shouted to Santana, who nodded, and they backed away, taking a breather behind one of the outer buildings.

Explosions and gunfire could be heard all around the complex.

"Looks like intel buggered this one up," Holland said. "They knew we were coming."

Phoenix Hunter crouched behind the steel crate he was using as cover and glanced over at Frealand, who was in the middle of reloading after emptying his clip into a group of tangos.

"Yeah....Hunter here, requesting backup," he said into his comm, checking his rifle before peeking over the box. A torrent of bullets sprayed the box, and he popped back behind cover. Before he dropped he saw no fewer than five enemies dug in and fully intent on taking his head form his shoulders.

Hunter sighed and pulled a frag grenade from his harness.

"Frag out!" he yelled to Frealand, who ducked down to avoid the ensuing shrapnel. Hunter let the 'nade fly, a hook shot that would have made Michael Jordan proud. It hit a large shipping crate behind the enemy and bounced back,landing at his feet. He looked down in shock and tried to dive away, only to be sent flying into the shipping crate wall, his lower body a bloody mess.

"Covering fire! Moving in!" Hunter told Frealand, who immediately responded with full auto fire from his assault rifle. Hunter rolled from behind cover, coming up in an all out run for the enemy, praying to God they hadn't recovered yet. He knew when he felt the impact of a slug take him in the shoulder, his prayers went unheard. He rolled to absord the impact of the bullet, comig up in a crouch and searching for a target. He found one, a man in civilian clothes and black sunglasses, and fired a single shot that took him in chest. Hunter fired twice more in rapid succession, taking the man once more in the chest and one in the left eye. Even as he saw the body fall to the ground, a dozen more men filed out of the building and took up attack positions.

Hunter dove to the side and came up with his back against another crate.

"Holy shit! We're meeting heavy resistence here! Someone made a BIG goddamn mistake!"

"Position comprimised!" Holland yelled at Santana.

"No f***ing way!" Santana muttered, as bullets impacted around them.

""Looks like intel buggered this one up," Holland said. "They knew we were coming."

"We got to get into that armory," Santana said.

"It's at least 100 yards over open terrain!" Holland said.

"I got a solution for that. Wait ten seconds and then follow me," Santana said. He threw a grenade into the clearing. The grenade spewed out smoke. The tangos fired mercilessly. One tango popped up with a RPG and fired where Santana and Holland were last seen.

But they weren't there any more. Santana climbed quickly up a ladder, before shooting two men on top of the roof. Holland joined him a second later.

"There should be a door that goes into the armory here, it should be a little less guarded," Santana said.

"I'll take point," Holland said.

"God D*mmit Clive, i though we were going to be meeting little and un organized resistance" hunter yelled while bullets whizzed around him.

"oh, shit, uh it is un-organized; until you guys came in they were killing each other. Now tha--"

"Cut the crap, holland and I are going to the armory, we're on top of the building closest to the crash" santana broke in.

"yes I see, the door is about two meters to your right, i suggest crawling, there are quite a few snipers on the outlaying rooftops and they're higher than you are, so be extremely quick, once your in side there are a total of 20 heat sigs inside, all at windows, or on the ground dead, your building is taking heavy rpg fire so there is a possibility of part of it collapsing."

"Ok we're good" kobi replied

"Hunter and frealand can you see through the smoke?" clive asked

"Barely not well enough"

"ok i want you to turn to your left 45 degrees and chunk a grenade if you have one then find cover asap behind a building, the target is about 20 yards down, there is a building to the right of your crate run towards it, there is a door its partially open nobody inside, but its a small room, you'll be a little cramped, frealand give him suppressive fire from your 9, do it NOW!" clive yelled as he watched hunter and frealand perform exactly what he had asked of them via thermals from the cameras in their helmets and satellite. "ok run!" frealand was first to the door slamming into it and sucessfully breaking it. Then the grenade exploded its hot shrapnel peppering the truck it landed next to. "ok i'd sit tight a while"

"wha'd I hit?"

"ammo and fuel truck" clive said smiling to himself as the mercs fell left and right getting peppered with bullets, shrapnel, and flaming shards the truck. "how you doing nate, brewer?"

"just dandy" brewer was all brewer was able to say before and rpg hit near them showering them in dirt.

caldwell was running for a building on their way to the garage then fell as a crate exploded near them. "Caldwell is down" clive yelled in his mic just watching the satellite thermals in horror, yet Brewer kept running without stopping he picked nate up in one arm and returned fire with fury, then when they reached the building they both slumped to the ground. "Where is he hit?!"

"Its part of the crate its impaled his left foot, he's not getting anywhere fast." brewer replied

"Holland make your way to caldwell asap, and hunter you accompany brewer, brewer plant charges at the base of that building, according to clive it contains most of their vehicles and a small cache of drugs in the basement, also there are many mercs inside" kobi quickly yelled in his mic.

"Twenty tangos, you ready Santana?"

"After you Holland," Santana said. Crouching low, they ran across the roof towards the door. Without missing a beat, they went through the door.

They came down onto the second floor, only to find an empty gun rack. Santana looked out the door and stopped. There was a deck that looked over the first floor of a garage. Twenty men were down on the bottom near some windows, all armed with AK-47's.

Holland saw them too.

"I have C4, but it might break the building," Santana said.

"Don't worry. I got something for them." Holland took out a nitrogen charge. He hooked it up to another one.

"Take cover," Holland said, casually pulling the pins before tossing it down towards the landing.

They dived into the open second story door as the charges detonated, sending super cooled liquid nitrogen everywhere. The liquid nitrogen touched the skin, causing the cells to freeze instantly. Water, unlike most matter, expands when cooled. The result was instant body hemmoraging. It took thirty seconds for them to die.

"This is Holland, the armory is secure," he said.

"Let's take care of some snipers," Santana said.

"God...the brass isn't gonna like this at all," Phoenix said to himself, nursing his injured arm. It was little more than a flesh wound, but that didn't stop it from hurting like Hell.

Phoenix slumped against the wall of the small, empty room he'd burst into seconds before.

It was at that second he detrermined that Nathaniel Caldwell was insane. Bonkers. Of the walls. He couldn't think of General who would comandeer a plane, crash it into a hangar, and then expect his tiny unit to decimate an entire facility of drug dealers without any preplanning or team training. It was then that Phoenix decided he'd have to punch Caldwell in the face if they both survived.

He ejected the half empty clip from his SCAR System and jammed another into the reciever. He looked over to Frealand, who was looking out onto the battle field, and said "Helluva party, eh?"

"Yeah, right..." Frealand didn't seem to be in a mood for jokes.

Phoenix rwached up to announce their situation to the rest of the team, only to find that his helmet was gone.

"The Hell? When did THAT happen?" He wondered aloud. He shrugged and decided to sleep for a moment. Slowly, his eyes closed and he slip sideways down the wall, leaving a dark smear of crimson in his wake.

His head contacted with the hard cement floor and instantly he was awake again.

"Damn...this ain't good."

He pushed himself back into a seated position and again looked to Frealnd.

"Frealand. Frealand!"

"WHAT, Corporal?" He growled, turning toward Phoenix.

"I'm hit. Pretty bad, I think. Lost my comm...but we gotta get the Hell out of here. We aren't READY for this. Call it in, and take command. This is suicide, damn it!"

"You're a qualified sniper, right?" Holland asked casually as they crouched low next to a window.

Santana nodded.

"We gotta take out those snipers, right? Now you better be a good shot, because what I'm going to do is start firing onto those rooftops, blind. If all goes to plan, they'll fire back and give away their position," Holland said, sighing.

"Roger," Santana said, and took position next to a window that had been shattered. He scanned the rooftops but saw no movement.

"Then we can support the rest of the boys," Holland muttered. Below them, an intense firefight wasn't letting up, grenade explosions and automatic fire pinged and echoed across the complex. Holland braced himself, and darted to an empty window, also shattered. He raised his weapon, aimed at the nearest roof, which was above, and pulled the trigger. The bullets impacted against the metal exterior of a warehouse. He took a deep breath, and saw two movements shuffle in front of him. One man stood up and Holland suddenly crouched down and moved to another window. The man realised his mistake but it was too late: Santana hit him through the neck, and he collapsed onto the ground.

"Holland! Caldwell needs support now!" came a shout through his ear, and he dropped down next to a window as a shot flew through the window, showering him in broken glass. Most of it cut through his right hand, leaving it a bloody mess.

"We're just taking care of some snipers," Holland replied, as if he was talking about doing his laundry. He heard Santana's gun open up again.

"Two more down!" Santana called.

"That's all of them on the roofs," Kobi said through the earpiece. "Brewer is taking care of Caldwell, but we need for an explosive job. If you two can take supporting positions up on that roof, it'll save 'em a little of trouble."

Santana had heard the message too, and they both set off to a ladder that was hanging down from a hatch. Santana went first, clambering up with his rifle attached to his neck, and Holland followed. They immediately dropped to the floor on the flat roof, and crawled to the side, where a low wall provided minimal cover.

They both looked below. There were at least thirty men firing AK-47s toward a small building, which Holland assumed contained Caldwell, Brewer and whoever else was pinned down there. Hunter picked a target, a fat man in jeans hiding behind a crate and shot. He fell instantly. Santana took down two in quick succession. The men, suddenly outflanked by a new force, looked bewildered and instantly began to fall back. Holland shot two more running away.

Santana swore, aimed his XM-8 carefully, and sniped a man as he was firing an RPG. It spoiled the aim, and the round flew over their heads.

"That was too close," Santana muttered, before shooting another hostile.

Most of the men had fled away from the garage, retreating to a central building.

"Good job," Kobi said through the comm. "Path is cleared."

Hunter watched the battle through an open window in the room, as Frealand ignored him. He saw that many of the enemy had begun to fall back, and many were looking like they might cut and run at any moment.

On eof the remaining tangos that had some fight left in him had his back to Hunter, using a crate as cover and to steady his aim as he leveled an RPK Machine Gun at the roof where Hunter guessed Santana and Holland were firing from. He tried to lift his rifle, cursing his dead arm, but couldn't bring it to bear. Rather than switching arms to fire with his off hand, he dropped the rifle, letting it dangle at his side, and drew his Beretta with his left hand. He didn't bother to take careful aim, merely went by instinct and squeezed the trigger three times.

The fat man fell to the ground, a bullet having torn through his forehead.

Hunter turned back to Frealand, who was lookng at him curiously.

"What's going on out there?" Hunter asked, his voice slightly slurred.

"Caldwell's hit. The rest of the team is moving in on his position."

"Then you'd better get over there and help them. There's still lots of badguys to kill," Hunter replied half sarcatically.

Frealand looked from Hunter to the building Caldwell was holed up in, back to Hunter.

"I'll be fine--just go kill someone for me," Hunter insisted. Frealand nodded and jogged out into the field, leveling his rifle even as he stepped out.

As soon as he was gone, Hunter cursed violently and unzipped his tactical vest. Pulling it gingerly over his shoulder, revealing a ragged bullet wound just under his clavicle. There was a lot of blood, but from what he could tell it hadn't hit anything critical.

He breathed s a small sigh of relief, and took a moment to reorient himself. Slipping his vest back on, he grabbed the dangling SCAR with his good arm and did his best to use his bum arm to support it. Taking up a position at the window he'd used previously, he rested the barrel of the SCAR on the window sill and took aim at the first tango he saw.

He squeezed the trigger three times.

(stepping back a teeny bit)
As the others made way for their positions, Brewer, Kobi and Caldwell (OOC: Caldwell is with me, right?) quickly made their way to the right flank of the facility, encountering only light resistance in the form of two-or-three man patrols around the perimeter. Without thinking Kobi and Brenner eliminated them. Then they got to within range of the right flank of the facility, which contained the garage, surplus storage as well as the barracks. Kobi motioned to Brewer for cover as he went to place time charges on the various vehicles in the garage, the closest target. He went and placed time-delay charges on three cessna propjob planes, a private jet, five trucks, a hummer, and an old, soviet-era APC. He ran back to the stand of tall grass where they were taking cover, and hit the detonator. 5 seconds later and loud BOOM sent all but one of the vehicles exploding in a surge of fire, steel and smoke. After the smoke cleared, they noticed the jet hadn't been demolished.
"Fuckin' A," Brewer said.
"Damn, must've been faulty wiring or something, goddamnit" Kobi said. "I'll go check it out"
"No," Brewer said. "I'm more familiar with explosives than you are, I'll go. Cover me"
"Alright, gotcha," Kobi said.
Brewer raced out with Caldwell accompaning him to provide close support as well as inspect the charges, so he can discipline the proper person later. When they were halfway to the jet, a loud CRACK rang out from the direction of the barracks, and Nate fell. Brewer tried to pull him back to relative safety, but it was impossible because he had been pinned down. Then, both he and Kobi both started to lay down suppressive fire in the general direction of the barracks. They could hear over their earpieces that all the others were having just as "fun" a time as they were.
"Brewer, this is Kobi, I'm going to make a move for the barracks, cover me"
"Roger that" Brewer said.
10 seconds later, Kobi was at the door of the barracks and threw in 3 frag grenades. BOOM BOOM BOOM three large, loud explosions erupted in quick succession in the barracks building, resulting in a large fire on one side. Kobi barged in and moved immediately inwards, shooting as he went. Immediately about 10 additional soldiers died. Kobi quickly found himself overpowered, though, so he ducked behind some rudimentary cover as he said over his "madonna"
"Brewer, Kobi here. Meeting heavy resistance. Falling back, be prepared for a large number of men following after me." then he threw a smoke grenade or three, and quickly exited the barracks, and got behind the relatively better cover of a low wall and a blown-out shell of a Soviet-era APC. Quickly thereafter, about 30 or so mercenary soldiers came pouring out of the barracks guns drawn. At that very moment Holland and Santana arrived on the roofs above and started shooting at the men as well. Soon afterwords, the area was clear, and he announced it so in his madonna, as he discharged multiple spent magazines and loading fresh ones into his Galil AR.
"Now lets all group up and rendezvous with Hunter and Frealand sounds like theyre having all the fun,"