Chapter one.
Out in the middle of the Ontario farmlands, sat a snow covered unobtrusive warehouse. Out front of two big beige doors, sat two black SUVs, hoods covered in snow. Inside, hay, pieces of wood, and five people. One of them, a female, tied to a wooden chair, bruised, bloody, and distraught.She only wore a black strapless bra and a long black skirt strewn in blood. One of the men in a nondescript suit and ski mask shone the light into the victims face.
"We can continue this all night if we have to," he said as he walked over and knelt down beside the victim. "This can stop." He moved some of the long black hair out of the victims face, revealing a thin and swollen cheek. "You just have to tell us where he is."
The head turned and looked at him with yellow slit eyes. She opened her mouth, "******** you," said a trembling female voice. The man back-handed her, causing her head to snap back to the other side. She tasted blood and spat as the man stood The man stood up.
"We're going to have to try harder ," he said to another figure.
The area surrounding the warehouse was very well flat. Except for a few mounds in the snow.
Area clear Said a voice over a short-wave radio. The mounds then stood up. Men dressed in winter camo then approached the building, C7's at the ready.
Bravo, go to the back, make sure no tangos escape. Yes sir. Initiate radio silence, if anything comes out that isn't the VIP, shoot to kill. The radios went dead. Four men moved cautiously to the back of the building. Fire team Bravo leader looked around the corner to the front, waiting for Alpha to get into breaching position. Fire team Alpha leader waved to Bravo leader, signaling the all clear. Both team Bravo and Alpha put on their silencers. The SAW gunners were left un-silenced. Team Bravo began knocking on the back of the warehouse.
The men inside were alerted of the commotion outside. The interrogator instructed two of the men inside to go check the disturbance out. They nodded, picked up their Kalashnikov's from a dirty metal table, and went towards the door.
Pvt. Shimenski and Sgt. Fuzz pulled out their knifes, ready to pounce. The door slowly crept open. The two men came out. Both Shimenski and Mendez grabbed the two men. Covering their mouths, they slit their throats open and dragged them to the opposites side of the warehouse. Cpl. Rzpecki and PFC. Kruspe took point. Sgt. Fuzz motioned fire team Bravo to go in behind the parked SUVs. Sgt. Mendez and Pvt. Ota got in behind one SUV, Cpl. Devreaux and Pvt. Barnes took up position behind the other SUV.
Charlie actual this is Charlie-90, ready with a SITREP, over. said Sgt. Fuzz over the radio. Charlie-90, this is Charlie actual. Read you loud and clear, ready for SITREP. We've currently eliminated two tangos, about ready to take VIP back into our-- Sgt. Fuzz was cut off by the sound of gunshots firing through the big aluminum doors. "s**t!" Fuzz yelled. Alpha team went into a prone. "Rzpecki, deploy a smoke!" "Yes sir!" Cpl. Rzpecki put down his SAW, and tossed a grenade into the warehouse. It quickly filled up with smoke due to the lack of airflow in the building. Fire team Alpha prone crawled in. Bravo stayed crouching behind the SUVs. As soon as the smoke cleared, the two non-descript men were disoriented.
"Where the ******** are they?!" said the interrogator. Five silenced shots went off. The men dropped like rocks. Charlie actual, this is Charlie-90. We have secured the VIP, I repeat, VIP is secure. Roger Charlie-90, evac heli is on the way. Sgt. Fuzz untied the hostage. "Are you alright ma'am?" He asked. Her arms sagged right to the floor. "Does it look like I'm alright?" She snarled as she looked at the Sgt. He stood back in disbelief. "Y...Your eyes..." Fuzz shook his head. "It may be uncomfortable, but I'll carry you out. Fuzz began a shoulder carry outside. Right then, the bird was over head. "Don't you worry, it's over now." Said Fuzz as the bird landed.
Chapter two:
In a well lit room, stood three individuals, Sgt. Fuzz, Dr. Matthew, and Lt. Clay. The doctor checked off some boxes on his tablet. The doctor opened his mouth. He said,
"Well, Cecilia is stable. No major infection, just a couple minimal displacement fractures in her left foot. Fourth and fifth toe. They can all be put back in place, other than bruises and that, she'll be able to walk again within four days." as he looked to Sgt. Fuzz.
"Good thing you got her to the CASE VAC in time. If she was out there any longer, she would've had a foot infection, and would have to be amputated if she was still out there." He turned his attention to Cecilia, who lay sedated in her gurney and in hospital dressing. Sgt. Fuzz put his eyes onto Cecilia with his forearms resting on his C7. His firm voice filled the room.
"I don't know what the ******** you're doing to her, but what ever those OPFOR's wanted with her, you better keep her under a good ******** guard." Silence over came the room, with the exception of the heart monitor. Lt. Matthews walked over to the door. He stopped at Sgt. Fuzz' side. He opened his mouth,
"Good job recovering the person of interest Sgt." as he patted Fuzz on the back. "Oh," he put one foot out forward. "We're Oscar Mike in 30." Fuzz replied, "Yes sir." as he looked at Matthews as he left the room. Fuzz opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but close it and exhaled through his nose. He shook his head. He then opened his mouth one more time and inhaled,
"******** tangos..." he let out under his breath, "How quickly do you think you can get her out of that gurney?" the Doctor laid eyes on him, "Oh, three to four days at the least," he went over his tablet again, "It's probably best for her to get some rest, so, why don't we clear out?" Fuzz nodded, and vacated the room, shortly followed by the Doctor.
Cecilia's cheek muscles began to twitch, followed by slight finger movement.
"Go, go, go!" Echoed voices throughout a classy, and dust covered velvet fabric laden foyer. Cecilia lay on the ground as gun fire and screams erupts in every corridor of the billion dollar mansion. She slowly sat herself up, pain shot through her left arm as she did. Looking around with her yellow slitted eyes, dead people, collapsed columns, and debris. She covered her mouth with her forearm.
What the hell happened? She glanced at her sleeve, it was covered in dust and small blood drops. She looked down further, the rest of her white dress shirt was like that. Every time she inhaled,dust and smoke filled up her lungs. Looking for a way to get out, she slowly stood up. She cautiously walked over to an empty, un-phased corridor of the huge mansion. She then turned into a sprint, going as fast as her long skirt would allow her to go. She ducked into a room,
"What the hell's going on?" She blurted out under her breath. She heard something move behind her, she turned around, the next thing she saw was a rifle butt in her face. She dropped to the floor, out cold.
Cecilia shot upright. She yelled,
"Jesus ********!" The heart rate monitor going at 121 BPMs. A brunette nurse came rushing in, in amazement to Cecilia's yellow slit eyes, she just stared. Cecilia looked at the nurse, panting. She did what she could do to catch her breath again. The nurse stuttered,
"T...The sedative...Was s...Supposed to keep you out-" Cecilia cut her off, "For longer?" the nurse nodded. She scooted to the side of the gurney and draped her feet along the side.
((MORE TO BE ADDED ONCE I GET ANOTHER BRAINWAVE.))
Military Terminology zOMG!!!
Tangos; Tartgets.
As seen, Charlie Actual; The commanding lieutenant designated name for the squads, adviser, commander in chief
Smoke; Smoke grenade.
VIP; Very Important Person
SITREP; Update on current situation, a standard report in.
Diemaco C7;
x Standard Canadian military rifle, 5.56 x 45 NATO rounds, Length; 1020 MM, Barrel length; 510 MM, Weight; 3.3 KG empty without magazine, weight loaded with magazine; 3.9 KG, magazine capacity; 30 rounds, rate of fire; 800 rounds per minute.
M-249 SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon); American standard machine gun, meant for squad support; 5.56 x 45 MM NATO rounds, Weight; 7.1 KG, Length; 1020 MM, Barrel length; 465 MM, magazine type; belt or magazine fed, rate of fire; 750-1000 rounds per minute. x
CASE VAC; Casualty Evacuation.
OPFOR; Opposing Force.
Oscar Mike; On the Move.
BPM; not really a military term, it means Beats Per Minute.
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Der Lizardwoman
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You should add more, coz I like this story already.
Do eet.
DO EET NAO!
Srsly.