The Days After (Game Topic)

CW: While the war is raging and all that jazz, set aside some time on your hopefully busy schedule to take a basic firearms training course. While you aren't the front line combatant type, it couldn't hurt to have some basic knowledge of how to defend yourself should you find yourself without any guards. Maybe buy some type of pistol or something.

Spoiler:

Spoiler:

Westhybrid, Destroyer

Darius tapped the desk waiting on hold for Foreign Marketing to go through. He had been on the phone for another hour waiting for someone to pick up and at this point, he was about to fall asleep. This was by far the most painstakingly long wait he'd done all year. He'd stood up just to stretch his legs, leaving the phone on the desk, when a voice came on.

""UGW Foreign Marketing, Boise Division. How can I help you?" a woman's voice said, on the other end of the line, "Hello?"

He scrambled for the phone, "Holy crap, I'm sorry! Boy, there is a God."

"How can I help you?"

"This is Darius Ico, Ico Corporation. I need to renegotiate my contract to 22% small arms sales." Darius said, waiting for a response.

"Hold while we get contractors on the phone, this won't be long."

Darius slammed his chair. He'd been waiting for so long, why did he have to wait even longer now? What was the problem? Then again, it was just transferring over to contractors.

"Hello sir, my name is Raymond Satara. Mr. Ico you want to negotiate your terms up to 22%?"

Darius got as professional as he could, "Yes, I'm requesting my cut be shifted up to 22% from 20% to compensate for the 5% cutback in production from NET sabotage at Wendell Corporation in Portland? I'm sure we all know that they suffered damage from the NET fiasco a few months back and have been lacking since. My factories are more than ready to take up that slack in the budget."

"In what respect are you looking to compensate?" asked Satara,

"Small arms, Mr. Satara. Reno chapter can more than handle the situation with their production alone."

"I assume you're looking to be compensated for increase in production,"

"In a show of good faith, I'm actually going to handle that increase myself," Darius had been instructed by his government to increase relations with the UGW, this was a way to accomplish it,

"Are you?"

"I'll also be sending a shipment of state of the art rocket launchers and rifles to the enclave in Bakken, given that the deal goes through and permission is granted. Are you in authority to grant that?"

"I am. I have to say that you've got your 2% and permission is granted. The contracts will be renewed, just send in the paperwork to us and we'll get it through in about a week."

"Many thanks to you Mr. Satara, have a fine day,"

Satara hung up without responding, but Darius was just glad that ordeal was finished. He wasn't really getting anything extra out of it yet, but eventually he would. That's all he cared about. A knock on the door settled him down and he sat in his chair.

"Come in!"

His new heavy hitter approached, "Morning,"

"Clark," said Darius, "Good to see you this morning. I'm in a good mood, you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because the government is holding up their side of the deal for once!"

"Ah," said Clark, "Need anything from me?"

"Not right now, my man," replied Darius calmly, "Not right now, but soon! Until then how about you warm up in one of the attractions around here," Darius spoke under his breath, "God knows I wish I could,"

"I think I will. Anyway, I was just checking in,"

"I'll have something for you tomorrow actually," explained Darius, picking up a few papers, "So be ready and clear your schedule. High pay, it's important to me."


********

KGBoom

Hunter waited for the armor to pass, then examined his wounds. He was hit three times, once in the leg, once in the arm, and he was pretty sure somewhere in the back. He attempted to call Roger over, but he was unresponsive.

"Roger!" he said hushed, "Roger, are you there?" he coughed a bit, "Roger!"

He finally reached Roger, but he was gone. Alone and injured, he pulled himself into a broken house and pulled a satchel around with limited supplies. He dropped the Carl Gustav launcher, which was useless now anyway, Roger was carrying the ammunition. In the satchel were a few medical supplies, bandages and such, and he got to work bandaging his leg, then his arm, but couldn't bandage where he was hit in the back.

"We'll see how things go then..." he said to himself. In the satchel was a handheld radio, which didn't have the range of a UGW AN/7a squad radio (which was a backpack) but could broadcast out to any friendly personnel within 800 meters. He'd have to try, he didn't expect much, but he'd have to try. He turned it to channel 702.1, a UGW channel, and cried for help.

"Anyone on this frequency, this is Sergeant Francis Hunter of the UGW Army. I'm alone in a derelict house north of the old hospital. It has boarded windows...a destroyed roof...and two open doors. I'm seriously injured, my squad is down. If anyone...anyone is on this frequency, please respond! Be warned there is a tank column that passed only a few minutes ago and I advise caution. Repeat, anyone on this frequency..."

Hunter repeated it three times over, then looked outside again. Roger hadn't moved at all, still limp on the ground. How could he have been so short sighted? ALL NET tanks came with thermal imaging systems. They'll see you through any concealment easily and in the snow it was even easier. He'd hold on for now. He'd hold on for as long as possible.

********

Mboddz

After dismissing his team, Boddz continued to think of ways to break the enclave. The conclusion that he'd come to was that unless heavy casualties were allowed, conventional means wouldn't break their position, that was for sure, but unconventional means learned from battling tribals and rebels in country had taught NI4 interesting tactics. Throughout the day, he thought up plans and assembled them into a folder, once completed he tagged it 'El Dorado' and brought it to his superiors.

"I have a plan," he said, entering Descateaux's quarters.

Descateaux took off his reading glasses, "Do you now? I have to say, I gave you the assignment three days ago. Usually planning takes much longer,"

"My team and I haven't really slept sir, but I have to say, I'm satisfied with our results," Boddz threw the folder on the desk, "I call it 'El Dorado'."

"City of gold, huh?" said Descateaux thumbing through the folder, "A fitting name given the circumstances, do you have a reason for that or is it just superficial?"

"The main operation if done correctly has a chance to destabilize relations between two countries,"

"The West and The Sovereign?"

"The West and North Mexico,"

"Nice, nice, I'll read this after you go, but summarize what you need done,"

"With Western air superiority, the West takes advantage of the fact they can drop supplies from their C330 aircraft. I intend to use this against them,"

Descateaux leaned forward, "I'm listening,"

"Before this morning the plan was to fake UGW radio encryption and fly our own C130s to drop supplies. They'd be dressed as ammunition and food and such, but instead be crates of explosives. Large amounts, probably akin to a five hundred or even a thousand pound bomb. The catch is that we'd have to somehow get around radar which even with faked UGW radio encryption that they'd fall for, would show that it's coming from aircraft originating from the east. No matter what we did, it'd look suspicious."

"I'm sensing a 'but'," said Descateaux,

"But if we came from the west, it wouldn't go amiss,"

"You're not suggesting hijacking Western Air Force cargo aircraft,"

"It almost came to that," the Lieutenant paused and opened a map of the region, "We caught a break this morning. Phone lines tapped from Boise to North Dakota confirmed this morning that the UGW is allotting the North Mexican CEO Darius Ico 22% of small arms production up from 20% in response to Operation Silver Line"

"And?"

"He said that he'd drop special weapons as a gift for that. His aircraft will be a thousand times easier to hijack than Western air force cargo aircraft. Not only that, we could crash the aircraft into the enclave if the opportunity presents itself."

"How would you get explosives smuggled into the hijacked airplanes?"

"We'll hijack an incoming convoy, one will be arriving tomorrow morning to this airfield," Boddz pointed to an airfield south of Firefox airfield, a small private one used by Ico Corporation. "Units already stationed behind the lines will have to lend pretty much all their explosives to the operation. It's the only way we could get the amount we need in the time we have."

"What do we look to gain from this?" Descateaux could predict the answers by this point, he just wanted to hear Boddz say them.

"I think that when the UGW allows Ico to drop weapons on his own, but those weapons turn out to be 1000lb bombs, they'll brand him and his corporation as a terrorist organization and cut ties as well as arrest Darius. If we're very lucky, Chancellor Weston will consider the North Mexican government hostile since one of President Fernandez's top CEOs just bombed his soldiers. We win by turning everyone against each other. Even if they don't consider the North Mexicans hostile, they'll cut ties and 20% of small arms production will be gone,"

"And their military is already hurting..."

"Exactly!" said Boddz with expression,

"Approved, but this doesn't solve the enclave problem. This plan will only work once, the UGW takes notice of any security leak they can fix. All foreign private military contractors will get Army security and surveillance once this happens."

Boddz shrugged his shoulders, "I have plans for that as well, but nothing that will work overnight. They're in that folder."

"I'll go over them. In the meantime, get some sleep. You and your team need to be up early, you'll be riding the long way into enemy territory if you want to get this done. I'll requisition the explosives from the teams inside already."

"Thank you sir," said Boddz, "We won't disappoint,"

"I know you won't,"

Operations in NI4 usually were planned the night before they were executed. Most operatives were used to plans changing, granted only if they were warned first. Otherwise it was a death sentence in the field.

********

Wright: as the break time for the guards went around Wright goes to the cafeteria, after getting his food he walks over and sits by some guards who look like they've been there for awhile and asks them while keeping the new guy act going "Since i'm a new guy what would some tips be that you would give? and how many escape attempts has there been? when i was positioned here my wife told me not to be in a too dangerous spot."

DJDemitri wrote:

Spoiler:

The character was updated subtlely through Cloakey. I deemed that the most uninstrusive way to do it. Sorry if it wasn't clear.

Snowwolf

The next day arrived, but Wright hadn't gotten any sleep. Lots of things were on his mind, his own personal mission weighed heavily. He didn't want to fail like he had with everything else so far; he wanted to succeed if only for Naomi. She deserved better than this place. Anyone did, really.

At 0500, the late night shift had one hour left which the first day shift used to get breakfast. Wright put on his uniform: Brown pants, brown shirt, black dual prong belt and thick black winter boots, then a thick overcoat for winter. They definitely weren't cold in the winter, the government made sure of it, but Wright felt bad for her. Prisoners worked in the cold with footwraps and ragged clothes. A potato sack covered more.

Granted, even though he hated this place for what it'd done to him, he did see the purpose in it. A lot of the people here were bad people. Psychotic and fanatical when it came to the various rebels or traitors, but all were equally dangerous. This place saved lives, but justice wasn't always right. Good people that didn't deserve it got mixed into this. In all honesty, he felt he was the one who should be locked in here, not her.

But hoping didn't get anything done, work did. Today was another day. Like all of the other guards, he assembled for breakfast and walked out into the winter cold. It was dark. The camp was very empty at night, almost peaceful, if that could be used to describe it. He got into the line, received his breakfast and sat down with some of the guards from his unit; Corporal Modina and Private Sidhe.

"Hey, Wright," said Modina,

"Modina, Sidhe," said Wright,

"How're you doing?"

"I have to say, I'll never get used to the military lifestyle,"

"You will eventually,"

Sidhe interrupted, "I know what you mean, when I first started out I couldn't get up at six o' clock, that just wasn't me. I live in New York, that city never sleeps,"

"Do you?" asked Wright

"City of dreams, drink the night away and watch movies, beautiful women in each arm,"

"He actually just slept the night away," said Modina, "He wishes he had that life,"

"Screw you, Dick!" said Sidhe,

"It's Richard you little smartass," said Modina playfully shoving Sidhe,

"I think 'Dick' is a little more fitting," Sidhe turned to Wright, "What do you think Wright?"

"I'm not commenting," Wright said with a smile, trying not to take sides, although it was impossible in that situation,

"Smart choice Wright," said Modina,

"No, he agrees with me, he just doesn't want you to get all pissy," Sidhe tapped Wright on the shoulder, "Eh man?"

Modina pulled a cigarette from his coat and a zippo lighter, "So, where were you stationed before this again?" he asked Wright,

"Actually straight from basic in Ashland training grounds,"

"A lot of new recruits get put in prisons as their first assignments," he replied, "I did as well,"

"What would you recommend to a new guy?"

Modina shrugged his shoulders and blew his smoke, "Nothing that you probably already don't know. Keep your nose clean and do what your superiors tell you. Not much else to it,"

"How secure is this prison?"

"It's maximum security, you should already know that, or did you forget your initial briefing?"

"It may have slipped my mind," admitted Wright, "Excitement and all that,"

"It's a maximum security prison. Not the most secure, but pretty damn near it. We house some dangerous people here, we need to take every precaution we can. As you know, most hours we have them inside their cells, freezing inside. Two to a cell, they work from 0800 to 1400 doing whatever we assign to them,"

"Not bad really when it comes to prisons," added Sidhe, "Down in the south they have Fairfield Supermax, located in the middle of a swamp where mosquitoes will kill you in a few days. Inmates spend 23 hours a day in their cell, get fed through a hole in the wall, have their own individual cells made out of solid concrete..." Sidhe shook his head, "Bad place to be,"

Wright continued the conversation, "Have there been any escape attempts here or other problems?"

"Not here, but in another prison in Kentucky the prisoners started a riot. Killed a few guards, but most of the prisoners were killed when the guards started shooting. You know how protocol is,"

"Prisoners get out of line, have to take a hard line,"

"Exactly," said Modina, "You're alright, a bit green, but alright,"

"Well, thanks, I try."

After an hour of downtime, the guard changed. The first couple of hours were just watching your areas, looking for any suspicious activity. Wright was assigned as a tower guard along with one other from his squad which just meant a lot of looking around outside and then occasionally in the yards. Although he did get a spotlight in the tower mounted to the ceiling. It was fairly interesting.

********

Hunter: Hunter checks his knapsack and pulls out a flask of water, sipping it carefully so as to preserve it. He then pulls out his radio again and repeats his message another three times. He pulls out his .45 and holds it close to his chest, still waiting.

Destroyer

The next day, Clark was assigned a small team (three including him) to help provide security on his aircraft. Darius realized that this may be an interesting target to some, it was best to be safe rather than sorry. A jeep was loaned to them and they used it to drive the twenty five miles to the airfield in about half an hour. Much faster than horses, and this must've been important to Ico if he was throwing these tools around like this. Once they started moving, a small convoy of two 5 ton trucks pulled behind them. They outpaced them quickly though and they disappeared over the horizon rather fast.

The people were strangers though and Clark had no real interest in talking to them. They seemed like gung-ho teenagers anyway that knew enough to get themselves killed. In all honesty, who cares if you knew how a gun worked? A five year old can find out how a gun works. Being a warrior is akin to being an artist on the battlefield. It takes years of refinement and training to be of worth to someone.

They arrived at the airfield, but security on this place was light at best. He saw only three other guards besides his team, at least what looked like only three guards, there may have been more inside hangars, but besides that, this place was a nightmare. He didn't know who he was defending against, but a real squad could blow through this place like nothing. Acting as security commander, he got everyone onto the same frequency so they could talk quickly with each other.

"You two, spread out, try to cover some of the open area around here,"

"Aye, sir," said one of the mercenaries, she and the other mercenary spread out to cover different areas of the tarmac, but even still, this place wasn't going to go well. Clark eyed the gate and fences when the two 5 ton trucks pulled up, but something was off about them this time. The lead vehicle's driver was a black man now, when before he wasn't.

********

Mboddz

Early in the morning, around 0645 Lieutenant Boddz, Ltn. Reznor and Ltn. George rode in their S-70 fast and low into enemy territory, heading far south and then hooking north to avoid radar a little better. Another team was with them, headed by another Ltn. Stewart.

The plan was in motion. They'd rendezvous with a team behind enemy lines which had gathered a ton of explosives overnight from various different outposts. It was already loaded onto a few jeeps which would drive out to a road where a supply convoy was approaching. Once there, they'd hijack the convoy, transfer the explosives into the back of the 5 ton trucks, then the home team would drive the jeeps back for later use. The next move was to get through security, hopefully quietly, but if things with south they were loaded for bear so it wouldn't be too problematic. Once onto the airfield, as discreetly as possible they'd hijack the C130 aircraft about to takeoff after loading the crates of supplies that were actually explosives onto the planes. Then the plan would take care of itself.

The teams unloaded the helicopter. All together, eight men were on this operation, but another team of four would drive the jeeps to the convoy. Boddz introduced himself.

"I'm Lieutenant Michael Boddz and I'm heading this operation, you are?" he shook hands with who seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Captain Lloyd," he said, "Good to meet you, so we're doing this huh?"

"We are,"

"You boys need to give us more than twelve hours to prepare ops like these. That's getting really old," Lloyd and Boddz walked to the vehicles,

"If it could be any other way, we would, these are it?"

"Yes," said Lloyd, "How do you plan on stopping the convoy?"

"I was thinking of making a roadblock," said Boddz, "Overheat the engine, pour some water on the engine, it'll make a lot of smoke like vapor, and hopefully they'll stop."

"Hopefully?"

"Well I'm going to be in the middle of the road, on these narrow roads he has to stop,"

Lloyd sighed, "Just don't wreck my jeep, it's hard enough getting parts for them out here,"

"It'll be fine, don't you worry about that..."

A ten minute drive away, they reached the road. The rest of the crew waited out of view while Boddz parked the jeep in the middle of the road and overheated the engine. Once it reached about 300 degrees, he stopped and waited for the convoy to appear over the horizon. It was supposed to be passing here by 0705, and it was 0704.

"Right on time..." he said to himself as in came over the hill. He pulled his canteen and poured water on the engine, creating a ton of vapor which looked like a tell tale sign of a broken down car. Of course upon closer inspection, it'd be obvious nothing was wrong, but the point was to just get someone to stop. The truck stopped as he waved him down, and Boddz put his hand on his pistol to get it ready. The other guys knew to take the other truck by force once he took the first so they'd ambush they quickly. Boddz walked up to the trooper in the truck.

"Hey!" said Boddz, the trooper opened the door and Boddz climbed up to talk to him.

"What's going on? Engine problems?" asked the trooper,

"Yeah, my radiator just failed on me and the engine temp just kept going up and up and up, turns out I blew a hose! Where are you going?"

"Down to the airfield just about ten miles up the road, need a ride?"

"Yeah, I could use your ride!"

"What?" the trooper was confused by the mangling of words, and Boddz used this opportunity to kill the man with his Browning 9mm pistol rather hastily. Reznor in the meantime also pulled the other man out of the the other truck while George shot him.

"You were quite perceptive," said Boddz, "Well, probably not enough if I asked you,"

Boddz and the other operatives scrambled trying to assemble all of the blocks of explosives into the trucks. Between the trucks, 2,000lbs of explosives were there between them. The explosive they were using, HMX, was for specialist purposes. NI4 used blocks of it in place of regular Composition C-4 because it expanded faster than the RDX explosive, resulting in more explosive power. It was actually made from RDX created through the Bachman process, so it was a rare material, but worth it when you needed it. Other applications for it were in missile warheads and in the old world, nuclear weapon detonators. Every outpost within fifteen miles had been cleaned out of the stuff. This better have been successful, or else Descateaux would have his ass.

"So how is this going to work?" asked Stewart while he closed up the 5 ton truck, all explosives in the truck.

"Reznor and I will drive the trucks, you guys need to hide in the back behind the tarp," Boddz looked to the soldier he killed, still limp on the ground, "We'll try and make this as clean as possible. Let's avoid a gunfight if we can, but if someone hears shooting, it's on. Don't hesitate."

"Sounds good," Stewart got into the back of the front truck, "Let's do this,"

It'd been a while since he'd driven a 5 ton truck, they handled like a brick, but boy could they haul cargo. 5 ton was just what it was rated for, several times over he'd seen them loaded to 8 or even 10 tons and still drive and 6x6 drive gave it fantastic traction to the road in these icy conditions. The other team took their jeeps back and now the infiltration team was in. These trucks were actually the trucks that were hauling the special weapons that the CEO had mentioned, luckily coming in nice crates to put the bricks in. Each crate could carry around 250lbs worth of explosives, which hopefully they wouldn't have to lug around in a fight.

In just a few minutes, the airfield was in sight. The front gate was guarded by only one mercenary, but upon initial inspection, Boddz sighted only four guards on the entire airfield. Whoever ran this place needed to be fired. But he guessed he'd have a role in that very soon anyway. He pulled up to the guard and shot the bull with him.

"Hey!" said Boddz,

"Where's Jerry?" asked the mercenary,

Boddz thought quickly, "Jerry came down with something nasty, couldn't drive. They used me instead,"

"Figures, he was looking bad the last couple of days,"

"Where should I haul this over to?"

"Just over by the airplanes, boss wants you guys to load it now, the flight needs to go quickly."

The mercenary's radio buzzed for a moment, "That's not the driver that was supposed to be here,"

The guard answered, "Yeah, he said the regular guy came down with something today,"

"I passed that convoy on my way here, the driver was different. Get him out of the car, something isn't right,"

The gate guard expressed with chagrin, "I'm sorry sir, could you step out for a mo-"

"Yeah, I heard," Boddz again pulled his pistol and shot the guard twice in the chest. Quickly driving the truck while bullets pinged off of the vehicle. He lowered his head to avoid fire and yelled at Stewart in the back to hang on. The C130s were only a few seconds away, the dangerous part was the gunfire from about four different directions.

"Everyone out! Don't let them hit the aircraft!" Boddz found a target and fired his rifle, dropping one target immediately. The operatives dismounted the trucks, except for Reznor who backed up the one 5t truck to get the explosives in fast.

"George, come with me, let's get these pilots. You can fly one of these still, right?" George was an operative recruited out of the Air Force.

"It's like riding a bike," He and Boddz walked up the aircraft's cargo hold and forced open the door to the cockpit. They looked like UGW troopers, so the pilots treated them like it,

"What the hell is going on?" asked one,

"Plans changed," said Boddz escorting one out, "We're under attack, we need you guys out of here,"

George and Boddz both escorted a pilot out, confused and terrified as to what was happening.

"Who are we under attack by?" asked one of them,

"Us," Boddz and George shot and killed the pilots, "George, get in the cockpit. Get the engines started,"

With the airfield cleared of security in only a few minutes. Stewart and his team hijacked another C130. Quickly, the teams started loading the heavy crates into the C130s, where they'd be prepped on the way for drop. The crates already had parachutes rigged onto them, they'd open when they were released and fall safely to the ground. Two C130s would be used with four crates each. Boddz's team was in the first plane, Stewart's in the second. In about ten minutes, they'd loaded the crates into the planes, and the engines were started.

"I'll get to work on the explosives," said Boddz, "Reznor stay with George in the cockpit, fly co-pilot,"

"I don't even know how to fly,"

"Learn fast, it's better than nothing."

Boddz got to work on rigging the crates and the aircraft started to move. He moved to the back to close the ramp when an older man turned the corner with rifle in hand. Thinking quickly, Boddz pulled his handgun and fired twice, hitting the rifle the first time, but the second time the handgun's slide locked back. He stared at the gun for a second inquisitively and the man knocked it out of his hand.

Boddz pulled the man in and headlocked him punching him repeatedly in the stomach, but he broke the lock by kneeing him in the thigh. The hostile punched once and twice but Boddz dodged the two hits. He elbow punched the man in the head which caused the man to retract, but he used it to spin and kick Boddz straight in the stomach, causing great pain to him.

"You're good soldier," said Boddz, "Very good,"

"I have to say the same, son," said the man,

The man threw a right hook, hitting Boddz again in the head, followed by a left hook which was foiled when his wrist was grabbed by Boddz's left hand who used it as a lever to pull the man and kick him in the waist. The two proceeded to get into a melee with a lot of punching and a lot of deflecting and dodging. It was two masters in a duel to the death, with the final move to come. Boddz positioned himself closer to the ramp of the C130 now moving around 30mph on the runway, dodged another punch to the head, ducked and faced his back to him, then grabbed him by the belt and the shoulder, flipping him over and sending the aggressor out the back of the plane, rolling on the runway. Boddz hung onto a bar watching the man roll and spat the blood out of his mouth. When the aggressor came to a stop he pulled his handgun and attempted to kill the NI4 operative, but all rounds missed because of the range he was firing at and the fatigue he had suffered.

"DAMN IT!" exclaimed Clark, extremely angry he failed to stop the hijacking. He ducked on the ground to avoid being slammed by the next C130 and shot at that one too, expending his entire magazine.

All NI4 operatives were trained in Sambo, a mixed martial art practiced in the old world. It was the preferred combative for all NET troops, but NI4 operatives were usually either experts or masters in it as well as other martial arts utilized by other governments as a tool in espionage.

Boddz found his handgun in the C130, which was empty, and loaded another magazine into it, saving his empty one. He holstered it and got to work rigging explosives. They had to work as fast as possible. Speed was of the essence.

********

Clark: Pull out the radio. "Everyone still alive code in." Grab my jaw, grinding out the pain as I touch the soon-to-be-bruised spots. "Not bad." Run back to the jeep and, if there are any other survivors, wait for them before speeding back to Darius. Kick myself for forgetting my knives in the car.

Boddz reaches for his radio while still prepping the explosives.

"Command do you think we can get some friendly aircraft to cover our path home? The gig's gonna be up once they see our planes keep heading east."

Wright: when given some time he writes(duher wright writes) a message on a piece of paper and 2 letters. Then he decides to take a stroll by the segment 600-700 as he passes by the early 600's he drops the message into one of the cells and keeps walking. after he partakes in activities with other guards trying to make himself less suspicious.

Dimitri: Still thinking of the other day he really was interested in that slave. He was very keen on product quality due to all his years of service to the community. He had directed his driver to take him back to the camp. His sister sat next to him talking about her latest accomplishments in her own world. He wasn't paying much attention to it. Dimitri was just surprised that Luna wanted to come along this time. The driver indicated that they were arriving while he stopped at the entrance gate. Dimitri flashed his papers and was let in without an issue. At the front desk he approached an ugly accountant.
"Hello?" He said as polite as he could.
"What do you want?" The woman commented nastily
"I am here to see someone about a slave I didn't buy yesterday."
"Everyone is busy. Come back later."
Dimitri straightened his coat. "Very well. Lets go sister."

Luna blinked at how willing he was to comply. "You never just let things go brother what is wrong with you?"
He smiled" Hush now sister we got what we need."

Dimitri took her by the hand and quickly ducked into a hallway marked with directional signs.
Luna pulled away. "Brother what are you doing we could get in trouble!"
Dimitri grinned. "With my status? Never." He ducked through a door and scanned the area.
"There." he said pointing to two faces he recognized. Walking over he introduced himself.
"Hello Private first class Modina and Private Sidhe."

Snowwolf

A few minutes before the rest hour ended, Wright start to write a bit. One of them was to his "parents", to buy time and wait for the other troopers to leave and the next was a letter to Naomi. It had only a few words scribbled on it.

31 December is the night

At 2400, it will commence

Destroy this note once you read it, tell the other prisoners during work. Be cautious, I think they're suspicious of me, but I'm not sure. Might be just nerves. I'm about ready to shake out of my skin.

"Wright, we've got to go," said Corporal Modina, "We're on block duty this morning,"

"Right, right, sorry, just writing letters,"

Modina and Wright walked over to Block C, which was where females convicted of being traitors to the NET (mostly rebels from various frontiers) were held. Naomi was held there as well, and this was the time to drop the note, preferably when Modina and the other guards weren't watching. The blocks were essentially large warehouses that were modified with concrete cells and iron doors. The iron doors could move individually, but also could move all as one with a master key that the main guard had. When Wright initiated the riot, the master key would be essential to quick release and overwhelming the guards. However, it would be a different story getting to other blocks quickly. It didn't matter though because he had a while to think about it. Another thing to consider was that guards patrolled the catwalks above and the halls. This morning he'd patrol the halls occasionally and at the best moment drop the note into Naomi's cell.

The pair entered the cell and relieved the main guard and another, only once relieved were you allowed to leave your post, "Alright, take the halls for now, I've got the door," said Modina, getting the master key from the guard leader.

********

DJDimitri

Spoiler:

Early in the morning, Durov made a drive with his sister out to The Gate to gain information on the red headed woman he was turned away from. He was particularly interested in the woman just from her looks alone and it bothered him to no end that he couldn't have her when he wanted. He was curious when she would be for sale and approached the gate.

"Identification sir," said the shotgun armed gate guard,

Durov reached into his pocket and pulled his wallet out and gave his government identification to the guard. The man looked at it, went over to his linekeeper's box and wrote the name, government identification number, and time down into the binder. He then returned it to Durov.

"Thank you Mr. Durov," the guard waved him through and Durov saluted him casually.

"What are you expecting to find here?" asked Luna,

"Information on a woman I'm interested in,"

"For business or pleasure?"

Durov laughed, "You know me too well,"

It was dark, but the headlights of his truck lit up the road in front of him. The Gate was a large facility, housing over 40 blocks holding two hundred prisoners each. Soldiers were changing guard right now, it was 6:00, but that was also when the camp opened for business with civilians. He parked the vehicle outside the processing building, where worker deals were made and was also the place to go get information on said workers. Durov and Luna hopped out of the vehicle and closed their doors, chilled to the bone in the winter cold.

"Let's get in fast, it's so cold!" said Luna,

They entered the building and approached a woman at a desk. She was typing on a typewriter when they entered and finished her line before diverting attention to Durov.

"How may I help you, sir?" asked the woman,

"I'm here for information on a prisoner. Prisoner 627 I believe?"

"Alright," the woman stood up out of her chair and looked through the filing cabinets, "Prisoner 627?"

"Yes,"

"Sometimes I get tired of paper," she pulled out a manila folder which was labeled '627', "Anyway, this is the dossier on it, or was there something else you needed?"

"I need to know clearance information on her, as in if she's green light for sale and transporation,"

"OK then," the woman looked at the first page, which was reserved for that information, "It was changed yesterday, it says to speak to Colonel Renner,"

"Can you get us through to him?" asked Luna,

"I'll call his assistant," said the woman.

The broker called across the camp to contact the commander of the base. When the meeting was approved, Dimitri and his sister proceeded across the prison to meet Colonel Renner, the final word on almost anything in the prison. If he had an interest in the prisoner personally, it was probably for good reasons.

A trooper guarding the front door let the two into Renner's office. Inside were Sergeant Cloake and Colonel Renner, the latter sitting at his desk and the former standing next to him.

"Interested, are you?" asked Colonel Renner,

"Yes, I am," said Durov confidently, "I want that girl,"

"Something has come to my attention, Cloake, explain,"

Cloake walked up to Durov, "I fear we may have a guard problem,"

"And?"

"Pertaining to that prisoner. He seems to have some connection with the prisoner."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Colonel Renner simplified, "Long story short, Cloake has a guard who shows a particular interest in 627. We're not sure what it is, but if he's planning something, we want to find it out before it turns into a fiasco."

"I want this woman, I'll pay more if I have to,"

"Don't insult me Mr. Durov, this is my prison, my word, and it's final. If everything blows over without a problem, you'll be able to purchase her, but as of now, it's off the table."

"How did you learn about this anyway?" asked Durov inquisitively,

"Did you know something about this?" asked Cloake

"No, of course not, I want to know how you came to this information though you idiot. Why would I know anything about it?"

Cloake scowled, but Renner explained, "He directed you away from her yesterday, saying she wasn't for sale when she was."

"I knew he was bluffing," said Durov,

"He signaled her, and we suspect something between the two. Until we're finished with this inconvenience, sale on this prisoner is off the table."

********

. ADestroyer360 wrote:Clark: Pull out the radio. "Everyone still alive code in." Grab my jaw, grinding out the pain as I touch the soon-to-be-bruised spots. "Not bad." Run back to the jeep and, if there are any other survivors, wait for them before speeding back to Darius. Kick myself for forgetting my knives in the car.

bro you just ate shit

Mboddz, if I go to jail, Clark is going right back to the tarmac and flying a plane right up your ass.

And I'll watch :D

Dimitri "I still fail to see a problem with purchase. If I do buy her someone has to track her down. Someone does that you have your man and know where he needs to go. I wont insult your intelligence by offering enough money to buy the world. So I recommend that you sell her to me for an extended fee so we can skip some of the red tape. And this "guard" wont be able to touch her from the yard to my truck. Besides I have my own security so chances are that if you don't catch him I would have killed him. I give you a green pass with your papers and you and you Sargent will be able to get on my property to collect him, I hear these uniforms are expensive now a days." Dimitri finished with a slight chuckle at his own little joke. "He can't be that good if he gets picked out of the crowed so easily."

Luna was inspecting Cloake's uniform. "Your uniform is worn and ripped in the shoulder." She said with her innocently cheerful attitude.

damnit demitri...stop being a dick...you are just fucking up my plan

snowwolf1996 wrote:damnit demitri...stop being a dick...you are just fucking up my plan

Only if Renner authorizes it. He has the final say on everything in the prison.

snowwolf1996 wrote:damnit demitri...stop being a dick...you are just fucking up my plan

Then you better think of a new plan comrade.

Mboddz

Materials had been brought before hand to turn the explosives into bombs. It mainly consisted of a system where if the boxes were opened, it'd pull the pin on a grenade, which would be enough to set off the HMX. A simple pulley system wasn't hard to rig, but it was a bit time consuming if it needed to be done safely, especially in the back of a bumpy aircraft.

"Reznor," said Boddz, heading to the cockpit of the aircraft,

"Yes?"

"Help me rig these. We don't have a lot of time."

Reznor went to the back of the aircraft to help rig the makeshift bombs. Hopefully if they worked, they'd pull the grenade pin when opened, and in a few seconds a makeshift 250lb bomb would detonate in a group. Boddz was concerned though after UGW air interdiction. It was extremely dangerous to be flying a hijacked aircraft in enemy air space, and if they get shot at by enemy fighters, they'd be sitting ducks. There's no way to get everyone out of the aircraft in time, that's if the HMX didn't detonate when the plane was hit. Boddz got onto the radio in the cockpit and turned it to the frequency used by Minot airfield. 502.8.1

"Minot airfield, this is Lieutenant Michael Boddz of NI4, do you read?"

The radio was only chatter between pilots for a moment, but Minot tower responded, "Lieutenant Boddz, we read you, this is Minot tower,"

"We're in two hijacked C130s right now, we need to know if you can provide air cover for us on the run home,"

"Say again Lieutenant, did you say you're in two hijacked C130s?"

"Affirmative, we're in two hijacked C130s and we're probably going to be landing at your airfield. We need to know if you can give us air cover on the run back."

"Why are you in these aircraft?"

"It's classified, get a hold of Colonel Descateaux, he can vouch for us,"

"He already has, I just can't believe you actually did that," said Minot tower, Boddz laughed at that. It was pretty outrageous actually now that he considered what it probably sounded like.

"Can you get us air cover?"

"That's a negative Lieutenant, everything is either out or grounded right now. We can't provide anything for you."

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose, "Alright then Minot, keep us posted if something opens up." He turned to George, "How long you think?"

"Ten minutes at best," said George,

"I've got to get to it," said Boddz, "I'll be in the back if you need me,"

Boddz walked to the back and opened the ramp. The flatlands seemed to go on forever, fields of white everlasting. A few oil derricks here and there, but for the most part it was an untapped landscape, a very scenic and spectacular view. Stewart's team flew behind their plane, rigging the explosives in the same way. It wasn't a very reliable way to do the job, but you had to work with what you had. It was the best shot on how to execute the plan.

"Boddz," said George, "We've got a problem,"

Boddz walked up to the cockpit, turbulence shifted him a bit to the left, and Reznor swore under his breath, "Are you good?" asked Boddz,

"Just about blew myself up, but I'm good," said Reznor, taking a deep breath.

Boddz walked back to the cockpit now, "What's going on?"

"We may have a problem with the air drop, we've got a lot of wind,"

"I thought turbulence was a normal thing,"

"We're getting a lot of it, which tells me it may be windy down in Bakken. If it is, the crates won't land on target, or even farther off target rather.

"Sounds like a serious problem..." said Boddz,

"Uh...yeah!"

One thing that had been completely forgotten about rather embarrassingly was that North Dakota was known for its fast wind. It was such a variable that everyone was so used to, that it completely slipped the mind. There was hardly a day when the wind wasn't at least 15mph, especially in this area where wind farming just began to become a big thing in the old world. The large turbines could still be seen every now and again, albeit rather decrepit and damaged, most lay on the ground useless.

The last crate was rigged and with only a minute to spare. They were just about to fly over the enclave and the boys got ready to start shoving them out the ramp. So far so good, but hopefully nobody beyond the mercenaries they just wasted knew what they were up to.

"Alright, let's do it!" said Boddz,

The two shoved the first crate out and it caught its parachute, floating down, but George was right. Wind was causing it to fly far off course.

"If we bomb our own guys with these damn things it's going to be goddamn embarrassing, and that will be the least of our problems," said Reznor, "George, fly around again, do it until we drop them all, we can't screw this up!"

George radioed to Stewart's team to follow them on the loop. They'd drop when they were far west of the enclave to counter the wind. If these improvised bombs landed in NET territory and NET troops opened them, they'd be blasted to nothing. That couldn't happen, if it did they'd be discharged dishonorably at best or face at worst a tribunal. If you were facing a tribunal in the NET, it was cut and dry. There was almost no flexibility in military law and the judges in a tribunal could be optimistically described as executioners.

********

Destroyer, West, Ztron

Clark lay on the dirt runway for several minutes trying to recover from the fight and the fall. It'd been years since he'd gotten into a fight like that and even longer since he'd taken a dive like that. Those soldiers were no regular troops, they were special. Mercenaries? Maybe NI4? He didn't know. After he recovered a little he picked himself up and limped across the airfield to his jeep.

"Is anyone alive on this channel?" said Clark, "Anyone, is anyone on this channel? Please respond!"

Nobody responded, so he continued down to the jeep. It was parked at the far end of the airfield (figures everything had to be as far away as possible) and got in it, started the engine and pulled onto the dirt road. The drive was around thirty minutes to Frontline, but it was visible on the horizon already, the larger buildings were anyway.

About ten miles down the road, his suspicions were confirmed, as if they needed more since the drivers turned hostile, red stained snow, but no signs of bodies. Granted, it wasn't very useful. Snowfall which had just started would cover it soon anyway and it couldn't be used as evidence of the attack anyway.

Thirty minutes later, he was arriving in Frontline. This town was really nothing special, just buildings and warehouses set up for business. There were hardly any residential areas in Frontline, unlike Bakken, which had many apartments, a few schools and a hospital. Most immigrants that lived her had long moved back to the West and back to the safety of home. One couldn't blame them. This place was not one for a normal person.

He got out of his jeep, turned off the engine and entered Darius's office. Darius was on the phone yelling at someone, who it was, he didn't know. Garrett sat in the room as well.

"What the fuck do you mean you're cancelling the contracts...? I AM 20% OF YOUR GODDAMN INFANTRY WEAPONS, YOU CANNOT CANCEL THAT!"

Darius looked to Clark and glared, this was as mad as he's ever seen Darius, "What are you talking about my planes bombed Western troops, I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!!"

"Darius Ico!" The front door slammed open, "Darius Ico!"

"Who the hell is that?" asked Clark,

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good," Darius knew that anyone he'd want to talk to didn't deal in Frontline.

Soldiers armed with shotguns and .45 pistols barged into the office. The leader of the group aimed a .45 at Darius while his group put shotguns up to Clark, Garrett, and Darius as well.

"What the hell is this?" asked Garrett,

"Shut up!" ordered a trooper,

"OK then," Garrett was not in the mood to piss off a room full of angry soldiers with shotguns.

"Darius Ico," said the leader, "You're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and corporate espionage in the third degree."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" yelled Darius,

"You're coming with us. You'll be detained until further notice and General Mendoza wants to speak to you."

"I'm not going anywhere with you assholes, you still haven't told me what I've done yet! I demand to know what is going on!"

"Consider yourself lucky punk that we're not in a shooting mood!" said a trooper with a shotgun aimed at Darius,

"Is that a threat?" asked Darius, "I want my lawyers!"

"You're wasting your breath, they can't help you against the military," said the officer.

Darius, Clark and Garrett went with the troopers down to the holding area a few hundred feet down the road. Unknown as to what would happen in the future.

********

Apocalypse, Jagdgeschwader, Manguydude

"Desmond,"

The voice was ignored...

"Desmond,"

Shades made up the bodies that were once known...the ground cracked...the sky clouded...

"Desmond!"

"What?!" said Desmond, surprised and shaken by the voice,

"Are you alright?" asked Silva, "You were just staring off there for a second,"

Desmond paused, then picked up his rifle, "Do this long enough and you will too," he walked and Silva thought about that state, but then caught up to Desmond.

"C330s are dropping supplies," said Silva, "We should go after them before the NET gets to them."

"It looks like they're actually landing in friendly territory for the most part," Desmond examined the flights, "Strange, they're actually loitering and trying to make them land right, they're usually so anxious to get out afraid they'll catch a stinger missile."

"There's one over there," said Silva,

"Yeah, I'll go get it," Rovanel came up behind the pair and called a couple of soldiers, "Randall, David, let's go after them, I'll need some help taking them back,"\

Desmond and Silva stood outside of the concrete building the troops were using for a barracks. Troops in the meantime were starting fires, making breakfast, hauling M2 machineguns and a few went for the crate. Corsican walked out from under the floor where the bedrolls were, rubbing his eyes and donning his coat.

"What's going on?" asked Corsican, Durant following behind him.

"Supply drop," said Desmond. "Alright guys, with the crates dropping, NET troops are going to investigate and see if any landed near them. Let's get onto the defenses an-"

The crate detonated with extreme force, deafening Desmond and those around him. They staggered and fell to the ground on reflex and in a few seconds, dirt and concrete were falling to the ground like rain in addition to the snow.

"Did we just get bombed?" asked a trooper. It wasn't uncommon for jets to bomb the enclave, but it was always noticeable.

"I think the crate exploded!" said another, "It's gone!"

********

Tyson: Rub your ears in the new-felt deaf dumbfuckery. Get off the ground and cover your head with your arms trying to protect yourself against the odd piece from the concrete and dirt orbit that may strike you in the forehead.

"The crates? The crates are loaded with explosives? That's a new low, even in my books!"

Brush yourself off and brace yourself for the potential oncoming explosions.

"If the perpetrator of this is the NET, which I am thoroughly convinced they are, then they're most likely keeping their distance from the drop zones, right? If we can reinforce a perimeter around the drop zones near the Enclave, and fend the NET off; we can potentially secure the crates and use the NET's explosives against them in future engagements. Depending on what explosives are inside. And somebody get word around that those C330s are associated with the NET!

And for clarification everyone! DON'T TOUCH THE CRATES! THEY EXPLODE!"

Darius: Darius, Garrett, and Clark were all thrown into the holding cell. Darius slammed his hands on the barred doors. He stood there by the door for what seemed like forever. He sighed deeply, and then he walked over to Clark. Without giving him any time to react, Darius picked Clark up by his shirt, and slammed him against the wall. "You are going to tell me, what the fuck just happened. To the letter." Darius said between his teeth.

"And you." He said, letting Clark go and looking towards Garrett. "When we get out of here, and we will, you're going to get me NM Command on the dial. UGW, NET, Sovereign, I don't give a fuck who, but they just made the biggest mistake of their lives."

Evan:"don't worry brother we'll fuck with whoever fucked us". I turned towards Clark "now you got some fucking 'splaining to do"