Post by California on Mar 28, 2010 18:58:08 GMT -5
As many of you know, Able Archer was cancelled. With the help of some of the moderators on here and a few good men, an event did take place in it's absence. There was no real plot, but a good time was had by all. Even an irrate Native American that couldn't control his frustration at times. This is all fabricated and not done... It's taken up an hour of my time already, and, I'll continue it as soon as I can. Feedback is appreciated. If you don't like it? I apoliogize.
Operation: Unknown
Location: Somewhere, Afghanistan
Time: 14:37
Date: 28th, October 2010
The mission brief had been one that lacked detail and proper intelligence. Then again, it didn't seem like much was needed for the missions’ success...
"This is a PR mission, to win the hearts and minds of the Afghan People. The is in a small town that, in it’s prime, thrived off of the trafficking of weapons, drugs and harboring of the masterminds behind the increased hostility within Afghanistan prior to the occupation of the Allies. Now, it's as dead as the Auto Industry in Detroit." The Master Chief smiled as he paused to clear his throat. The Operators within the room that’d been selected for the mission could be seen grinning and a laugh or two heard within the poorly lit confines of CP. A handful of them had grown up in Michigan knew all to well the toll that the World Economy had taken on the city and state.
The Chief continued, "The town is fairly quiet now, which is more than what I can say for it during its previous state. The towns’ population is mostly comprised mostly of women and children, as well as for their elders. Most of the "middle aged men" and teenagers old enough and healthy enough to fight have fled to the hills to regroup with the other insurgents." You will rendezvous with a group of UN Missionaries who will be waiting for you just outside of the town, and are counting on you to intervene in any situations necessary of it. The missionaries will be bringing in medical supplies, clothes, food, toys, educational materials and whatever else they brought for distribution amongst the towns people. The mission shouldn't last more than a few hours, and you all should be home "by Christmas. Listen, I know this isn’t your first rodeo and I know your shits squared away. You know what to bring and what you don't need. Be smart about it, be respectful, but stay sharp. Anything can happen. I'll see y'all at evening chow." A few more words were exchanged prior to the briefings end, and the SEAL/Force Recon (MARSOG) Operators were released to get their kits ready for the mission.
A pair of Boeing-Vertol CH-47 Chinooks descended into the mountain passes that surrounded the target village as the team got closer to their rendezvous point. The Chinooks, with their twin-engine, tandem rotor design had begun to bank between the mountains when the teams Corpsman, “Doc” Dan Stout noticed a thick black smoke looming from below. However, due to the cruising altitude of the CH-47 and the terrain, he had no time to gather the origin of the smoke before the Chinook passed whatever it was below. Radio Communication between the two choppers had already begun to get funky due to the satellite disruption from the high peaks of the mountain and their low altitude, but the second CH-47s crew was flawless as they fell away from the lead Chopper and performed their "false insertion" of another non existent team. It was nothing more than a distraction in the effort to try and provide the team with a safe insertion to the rendezvous, if there’d been a threat in the hills.
As the teams Chinook descended at a hover upon the earth, stirring it below, the eight man team shot out of the rear of it. Although the situation called for it to be “all clear”, Doc Dan had made mention to the team leader of the smoke he’d seen earlier, and how it’d been a bit strange. After all, the same thing had occurred in Mogadishu in 91 when the Rangers and Delta Force had stepped into an ambush.
Four members of the team went right, their various firearms nestled into the right and left crooks of their shoulders all eyes focused on their iron sights through their optics. The second set of four men had broken free of the Chinooks tail and begun to fan out to the right in an effort to complete the pinwheel formation. One of the last men to exit the Chinook was the team sniper, Caleb “Tex” Yarrington. As his Oakley Tactical (Tan) boots dug into the sand below, he spotted the silhouette of an armed person cresting the ridge above. With the sound of the choppers engines fading into the distance, the team began to communicate. Operator Maczinski and Operator Riojas had spotted the same silhouette that Yarrington had and had their Rock River Arms M4s focused on the man. An instant more had passed and many of the operators focused their attention to the man. With all eight rifles focused on the man, he’d have been a fool not to duck out of sight. However, with that being the logical thing to do? He didn’t. Drayer, who was out of his zone with the SAW heavy machine gun, shot a look over to Tex that said what all of the Operators were thinking. “Is this guy fucking retarded?” But, in that instant, Caleb “Tex” Yarringtons right index finger slid down onto the trigger of the firearm that had been crafted half a world away at the Springfield Armory, and, with a quick breath and exhale, squeezed it. A single 7.62 NATO exited the barrel of the M14s heavy barrel and an instant later, smashed directly into the skull of the insurgent above. “Right between the eyes,” Tex thought to himself as the man fell out of sight. He’d followed him as he shouldered the AK-47 he was holding until the man beat his brain to the ground.
By this point, the entire team was on full alert. Radio Communication had not been established with Command and a few of the older Operators began to wonder what lied ahead of them. They hadn’t been on the ground for more than a minute on a mission that was suppose to be a “friendly” one, and already, they’d made contact with the enemy. Joe De Boer, one of the MARSOG Operators, once a Corpsman, looked over at Operator Chris Mrozinski and then, over to Operator Kyle “Marshy” Needham. “Home by dinner” he said, followed by a chuckle. The other two looked over and laughed nervously before the three of them migrated towards their teammates that had gathered to figure out a game plan. Doc Stout couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the ridge that the insurgent had been on moments before… He couldn’t help but hear Jocker (FMJ) saying, “Welcome to the shit!” An instant later, the team was heading up the ridge to the rendezvous point. Or, so they thought…
Caleb Yarrington slid across the ground on a small ridge that overlooked the village the team was supposed to meet the Missionaries in. Operator Maczinski was close behind him doing the same. The rest of the team had fanned out on the other side of the ridge to counter any attacks that may have come, and to try and establish communication with Command, which they’d not had since leaving the two CH-47 Chinooks. “I’ve got five to the west of what looks like a Mosque.” Maczinski said to Yarrington as he spotted for him. Yarringtons attention had been on a group of eleven or so insurgents coming in from the east of the village with what appeared to be prisoners. There were three men and a woman, all wearing white shirts and tan pants. Tex grimaced, and underneath his breath whispered, “The missionaries… This is going to turn into a rescue mission. Fuck the PR bull.” By then, De Boer had joined Maczinski and Caleb on the ridge and spotted a few more hostiles moving about the village. Just then, Operator Drayer came over the ridge and spoke, “One fucking shell is all we’d need to level this place. One shell and this whole mission would be over and we’d be back on the tarmac, enjoying the wonderful weather that Afghanistan graces us with daily.” With that, he’d begun to set up the SAW, equipped with Trijicon Optics ACOG Scope. Just then, the “pop” of a round zipping right past his head, a moment later, he was off of the ridge with SAW left unattended atop it. The rounds began slamming into the ridge just seconds later, and Yarrington, Maczinski and De Boer were back over it shortly after.
“Two squads…” Yarrington said, as he tried to catch his breath. “Two squads, four men in each…You SEAL Boys go around the right side of the ridge and we’ll go around the left side. Once you’re there, we’ll signal you, wait on us and we’ll wait on you. Roger that?” Drayer and the other SEALS nodded in recognition of Yarringtons statement. It was time to fuck shit up, and after a moment of each of the men in the group wishing one another luck, Mrozinski, Drayer, Needham and Stout took off down the ridge towards said direction in a double time sort of fashion. In fact, they’d done so in such fashion, that they resembled the Afghan Goat Herders that frequented these hillsides on a daily basis and didn’t ease up. No, not even Doc Stout, who was carrying an extra 65lbs in medical supplies let up as they vanished around an inlet and disappeared. Yarrington, Maczinski, Riojas and De Boer took off in the opposite direction, De Boer and Riojas taking up the slack to watch their rears. Some of the men would never see one another again, not while on this earth, anyways.
Approximately 30minutes later, the two teams were in position to begin their assault on the village. With little knowledge of where the prisoners had been taken, and still having made no contact with Command, they had no choice but to start their assault. Yarrington and Drayer had established communication for a moment. It was enough time for the individual teams to share what intelligence they had on each of their sides of the village and a “go ahead” for the mission to begin. Each of the Marines with Caleb “Tex” Yarrington had an insurgent in sight. “Rock and Roll”, with those three words, the world around the SEALs and Marine from the C.O.G went into action. Simultaneously, their M4s, SAWS, SCARS, M14s and M16A4s went into action. Raining a combination of 5.56APRs and 7.62NATOs into the exposed Hadjis that had been searching the ridge for them, as well as for the others that had chose to expose themselves so carelessly. Both teams, almost in unison, took off down the ridges. There wasn't much cover, but there seemed to be no worry as the rounds being returned were poorly placed and done so as the insurgents retreated into their buildings. Both teams had a devastating affect on the terrorists, and, most of the rounds they'd fired had hit its targets...
While the SEALS had gained a substantial advantage on their initial assault on the west side of the Village, one that had turned into a violent series of house to house, the Marines on to the east found themselves pinned down just before the ancient walls that surrounded it. It appeared that the insurgency had noticed the SEALS prior to their assault and had begun to retreat towards the east side of the village to regroup and reorganize themselves to counter attack, they ran smack into the advancing Recon Marines. As the insurgents focused on trying to clear their path for retreat via Marine elimination, the SEALs took their first casualty. “I’m hit..” was all that Operation Kyle Needham could hear over the intense fire fighting going on within the city. As he looked over his right shoulder, he could see Doc Dan Stout, who was in a sprint; crumble to his knees before settling onto his stomach in a harsh tumble. As Needham tried to react to the situation, he noted the rounds that continued to pepper the ground around Doc Stout, and most importantly, his lack of movement. “Marshy”, as his friends called him, did not see any initial wound on their Corpsman, but knew that Stout was in bad shape. As the carbon fiber clad knuckles of “Marshy” Needhams left glove drove into the sand right above Stouts head, his other wrapped around the “grab handle” of Stouts LBV and he began to move him into the house that him and the rest of the team were in. As Marshy retreated through the threshold of the door, a round whizzed into the wall just to his left. He flinched but did not falter in his attempt to get his friend into cover. That’s when everything “went dark”, as Kyle Needham would later recount. “It felt like the air had been sucked out of me, like something had just thrown me right into the wall to the right of the door. Then, a … cloud just took over the room. I don’t remember letting go of Docs vest, but… “He paused, trying to fight back his emotions. “I guess I didn’t.” It had taken everything that Operator Needham had to recompose himself and fight through the excruciating pain that had overtaken him as he came to. “I just listened. I tried to yell out but couldn’t seem to get the air back into my lungs. They were filled up with dust and sand and I just couldn’t… I couldn’t move.” The building that the SEAL team was in had been hit by a RPG, and with devastating affect. Two of the Operators had been immobilized entirely; Doc Stout and Operator Mrozinski were both lost in the blast emitted from the Rocket Propelled Grenade as it ripped through the building. Drayer and Needham had both been immobilized. Drayers recount of Mrozinskis last actions were “everything a SEAL would do for his fallen brother.” Mrozinski had fallen back from his firing position to help Needham get Stout through the door. He’d actually been the reason that Needham was not hit by the rounds that impacted the door next to his head. As Mrozinski retreated from his position, Drayer holding it down with his Squad Automatic Weapon, he’d noted a man wielding an AK-47 on Needhams person as he’d drug Stout through the doorway. Mrozinksi had moved his brother out of the way, only by an inch or two, but enough to prevent the rounds from hitting him. Regrettably, he himself was hit. Drayer recalls Mrozinski, with his M4 leveled, squeezing off a few rounds as he moved Marshy out of the way, and then flinching before his M4 fell from his grasp. That’s when the room had gone dark.
Caleb “Tex” Yarrington had established communication with Drayer prior to the explosion that silenced them. Communication had only been established between the two teams for a moment but work had been done quickly. Between Drayer and Yarrington, they’d estimated the number of insurgents within the city and given each other rough coordinates of where each of their teams was located. Yarrington was just about to give Drayer their SITREP (situation report) when the Marines heard the explosion and communication went down on the other end. I believe it’s safe to say that each of the Marines felt their stomachs drop as static from their SEAL brothers filled their headsets. Almost without thinking, the team voted unanimously to get to the other side of the village to assist their brothers out. Yarrington had spotted a second story building built into the mountainside earlier, and the team chose to secure it so that Yarrington could provide them with an over watch via Springfield Armory M14. “Lets go, lets fucking go!” Maczinski yelled as he crested the village’s outlying walls with his Rock River Arms tucked into the crook of his right shoulder. With his index finger along with his fellow Marines suppressed on their weapons trigger, they sent a brutal barrage of 5.56NATO rounds into the insurgents that exposed themselves as they ran. The team sprinted towards the two story building that sat no more than thirty yards away from them.
“That rug must have been in the family since the Mongolians tried to invade this fuckhole place.” De Boer said as the COLT Magazine that, moments earlier had assisted him in firing a series of 5.56NATO round directly into the chest of the young man lying on the floor. With the crimson pool of blood pumping from his chest as quickly as the air was from his lungs, Maczinski and De Boer couldn’t help but look at one another in disbelief. “This is the shit that we’ll never forget bro. This war will never end, and even though we came here to help them, they’re never going to see it through out eyes. ” Maczinski was cut short as Yarrington and Riojas rifles began to go to work above them. Riojas was spotting for Yarrington when they noticed the head of a man down one of the streets darting behind cover and then back out. The man seemed to be spotting for someone else, as every time he disappeared, rounds began to slam into the lower level of the building they were in, where De Boer and Maczinski were. Tex and “Obi”, Riojas first name cut short, had focused their attention on the man and Tex planned to take him down the next time his head poked out. With his trigger finger set, round chambered and scope on spot, the team waited for the man to make his move. A second later, his head poked around the corner and Yarrington reacted. Within a split second, the trigger was squeezed, the round exited the rifle and the man was out of sight... well, most of it, anyways. Almost simultaneously, the team looked at one another, their mouths gaping. Neither of them had ever seen what they’d just witnessed, and it seemed that the battle had stopped in response to it. Yarrington had placed the crosshairs of the M14s Nikon Scope on the throat of the spotter prior to pulling the trigger. His dope had not been set properly, and he’s figured, “Aim for the throat, if it goes high, it’ll hit him in the head, or in the chest if it goes low.” They were both surprised as the 7.52 impacted the exact spot that Yarrington had the crosshairs focused on. Yarrington had seen it all. The round hitting the man in the throat and his head jettison from his body. The body of the man seemed to stand there for a moment before it “flinched” to the shot as it vanished from sight. Head having bounced off of the wall of the building behind the man and rolling halfway down the alley. Resting in an upright position facing the two, jaw agape and eyes open. The whole works. Their brief exchange of “holy shit, what just happened” was again cut short when they heard the familiar sound of a S.A.W coming to life within the village. For a moment the two expected to hear the rounds impacting into their building, but instead, saw insurgents running away from the smoldering building within the city. An instant later, Drayer could be heard on their radio. He sounded out of breath, but, he was alive. “This is GD, break. We’ve got two… we’ve got two KIAs. Marshy and I are still in it, but we’re both fucked up. Over.” The Marines could tell that Drayer wasn’t quite sure of their situation, but he needed help, fast. “Roger that, GD. We’re on our way. Break.” De Boer, Maczinski and Riojas began their short run to the smoldering building that was the last place they knew their SEAL counterparts to be.
Marshy and Drayer had composed themselves as much as they could with what they’d just gone through. They’d both sustained multiple fragment wounds and Marshys right leg and side had lost all feeling and function. Drayer wasn’t doing much better with a gash down the right side of his face that immobilized his eye and sent a crimson stream down the right side of his DCUs. His right wrist also showed signs of being fractured or broken, yet, both of them had maintained their combat effectiveness. It had taken Marshy and Drayer both a substantial amount of time to get back on their feet. So much so, that when they came to, a few insurgents had been rummaging around in the building they’d been in upon its explosion. Marshy had upholstered his SOCOM Mk23 that sat at his hip as silently as he could. As he leveled it on the back of one man through the ruble, he heard and saw the carnage that Justin “The Great Destroyers” Drayers S.A.W had at close range on the soft tissue of the trespassers bodies. Justin got this name due to his love for going above and beyond to get the job done. In this instance, getting the job done meant covering the walls that were still standing and his fellow SEAL with brain and upper torso fragments. “Fuck man!” Marshy yelled as he struggled to remove the large clay and stone rocks from on top of his body. As he slowly got to his feet and looked around, he noticed that the body of Mrozinski was lying off to one side of the destroyed building, motionless. He looked at Drayer, who was in a daze, but still smiling. “We’re all jacked up, dude.” Drayer said to Kyle, who could do nothing more than nod, hardly able to hear him. Needham noticed that his now immobilized was still holding onto the strap of what was part of Stouts vest, but, that Stout was nowhere in sight.
Part two has been added. TO BE CONTINUED... AGAIN!
Operation: Unknown
Location: Somewhere, Afghanistan
Time: 14:37
Date: 28th, October 2010
The mission brief had been one that lacked detail and proper intelligence. Then again, it didn't seem like much was needed for the missions’ success...
"This is a PR mission, to win the hearts and minds of the Afghan People. The is in a small town that, in it’s prime, thrived off of the trafficking of weapons, drugs and harboring of the masterminds behind the increased hostility within Afghanistan prior to the occupation of the Allies. Now, it's as dead as the Auto Industry in Detroit." The Master Chief smiled as he paused to clear his throat. The Operators within the room that’d been selected for the mission could be seen grinning and a laugh or two heard within the poorly lit confines of CP. A handful of them had grown up in Michigan knew all to well the toll that the World Economy had taken on the city and state.
The Chief continued, "The town is fairly quiet now, which is more than what I can say for it during its previous state. The towns’ population is mostly comprised mostly of women and children, as well as for their elders. Most of the "middle aged men" and teenagers old enough and healthy enough to fight have fled to the hills to regroup with the other insurgents." You will rendezvous with a group of UN Missionaries who will be waiting for you just outside of the town, and are counting on you to intervene in any situations necessary of it. The missionaries will be bringing in medical supplies, clothes, food, toys, educational materials and whatever else they brought for distribution amongst the towns people. The mission shouldn't last more than a few hours, and you all should be home "by Christmas. Listen, I know this isn’t your first rodeo and I know your shits squared away. You know what to bring and what you don't need. Be smart about it, be respectful, but stay sharp. Anything can happen. I'll see y'all at evening chow." A few more words were exchanged prior to the briefings end, and the SEAL/Force Recon (MARSOG) Operators were released to get their kits ready for the mission.
A pair of Boeing-Vertol CH-47 Chinooks descended into the mountain passes that surrounded the target village as the team got closer to their rendezvous point. The Chinooks, with their twin-engine, tandem rotor design had begun to bank between the mountains when the teams Corpsman, “Doc” Dan Stout noticed a thick black smoke looming from below. However, due to the cruising altitude of the CH-47 and the terrain, he had no time to gather the origin of the smoke before the Chinook passed whatever it was below. Radio Communication between the two choppers had already begun to get funky due to the satellite disruption from the high peaks of the mountain and their low altitude, but the second CH-47s crew was flawless as they fell away from the lead Chopper and performed their "false insertion" of another non existent team. It was nothing more than a distraction in the effort to try and provide the team with a safe insertion to the rendezvous, if there’d been a threat in the hills.
As the teams Chinook descended at a hover upon the earth, stirring it below, the eight man team shot out of the rear of it. Although the situation called for it to be “all clear”, Doc Dan had made mention to the team leader of the smoke he’d seen earlier, and how it’d been a bit strange. After all, the same thing had occurred in Mogadishu in 91 when the Rangers and Delta Force had stepped into an ambush.
Four members of the team went right, their various firearms nestled into the right and left crooks of their shoulders all eyes focused on their iron sights through their optics. The second set of four men had broken free of the Chinooks tail and begun to fan out to the right in an effort to complete the pinwheel formation. One of the last men to exit the Chinook was the team sniper, Caleb “Tex” Yarrington. As his Oakley Tactical (Tan) boots dug into the sand below, he spotted the silhouette of an armed person cresting the ridge above. With the sound of the choppers engines fading into the distance, the team began to communicate. Operator Maczinski and Operator Riojas had spotted the same silhouette that Yarrington had and had their Rock River Arms M4s focused on the man. An instant more had passed and many of the operators focused their attention to the man. With all eight rifles focused on the man, he’d have been a fool not to duck out of sight. However, with that being the logical thing to do? He didn’t. Drayer, who was out of his zone with the SAW heavy machine gun, shot a look over to Tex that said what all of the Operators were thinking. “Is this guy fucking retarded?” But, in that instant, Caleb “Tex” Yarringtons right index finger slid down onto the trigger of the firearm that had been crafted half a world away at the Springfield Armory, and, with a quick breath and exhale, squeezed it. A single 7.62 NATO exited the barrel of the M14s heavy barrel and an instant later, smashed directly into the skull of the insurgent above. “Right between the eyes,” Tex thought to himself as the man fell out of sight. He’d followed him as he shouldered the AK-47 he was holding until the man beat his brain to the ground.
By this point, the entire team was on full alert. Radio Communication had not been established with Command and a few of the older Operators began to wonder what lied ahead of them. They hadn’t been on the ground for more than a minute on a mission that was suppose to be a “friendly” one, and already, they’d made contact with the enemy. Joe De Boer, one of the MARSOG Operators, once a Corpsman, looked over at Operator Chris Mrozinski and then, over to Operator Kyle “Marshy” Needham. “Home by dinner” he said, followed by a chuckle. The other two looked over and laughed nervously before the three of them migrated towards their teammates that had gathered to figure out a game plan. Doc Stout couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the ridge that the insurgent had been on moments before… He couldn’t help but hear Jocker (FMJ) saying, “Welcome to the shit!” An instant later, the team was heading up the ridge to the rendezvous point. Or, so they thought…
Caleb Yarrington slid across the ground on a small ridge that overlooked the village the team was supposed to meet the Missionaries in. Operator Maczinski was close behind him doing the same. The rest of the team had fanned out on the other side of the ridge to counter any attacks that may have come, and to try and establish communication with Command, which they’d not had since leaving the two CH-47 Chinooks. “I’ve got five to the west of what looks like a Mosque.” Maczinski said to Yarrington as he spotted for him. Yarringtons attention had been on a group of eleven or so insurgents coming in from the east of the village with what appeared to be prisoners. There were three men and a woman, all wearing white shirts and tan pants. Tex grimaced, and underneath his breath whispered, “The missionaries… This is going to turn into a rescue mission. Fuck the PR bull.” By then, De Boer had joined Maczinski and Caleb on the ridge and spotted a few more hostiles moving about the village. Just then, Operator Drayer came over the ridge and spoke, “One fucking shell is all we’d need to level this place. One shell and this whole mission would be over and we’d be back on the tarmac, enjoying the wonderful weather that Afghanistan graces us with daily.” With that, he’d begun to set up the SAW, equipped with Trijicon Optics ACOG Scope. Just then, the “pop” of a round zipping right past his head, a moment later, he was off of the ridge with SAW left unattended atop it. The rounds began slamming into the ridge just seconds later, and Yarrington, Maczinski and De Boer were back over it shortly after.
“Two squads…” Yarrington said, as he tried to catch his breath. “Two squads, four men in each…You SEAL Boys go around the right side of the ridge and we’ll go around the left side. Once you’re there, we’ll signal you, wait on us and we’ll wait on you. Roger that?” Drayer and the other SEALS nodded in recognition of Yarringtons statement. It was time to fuck shit up, and after a moment of each of the men in the group wishing one another luck, Mrozinski, Drayer, Needham and Stout took off down the ridge towards said direction in a double time sort of fashion. In fact, they’d done so in such fashion, that they resembled the Afghan Goat Herders that frequented these hillsides on a daily basis and didn’t ease up. No, not even Doc Stout, who was carrying an extra 65lbs in medical supplies let up as they vanished around an inlet and disappeared. Yarrington, Maczinski, Riojas and De Boer took off in the opposite direction, De Boer and Riojas taking up the slack to watch their rears. Some of the men would never see one another again, not while on this earth, anyways.
Approximately 30minutes later, the two teams were in position to begin their assault on the village. With little knowledge of where the prisoners had been taken, and still having made no contact with Command, they had no choice but to start their assault. Yarrington and Drayer had established communication for a moment. It was enough time for the individual teams to share what intelligence they had on each of their sides of the village and a “go ahead” for the mission to begin. Each of the Marines with Caleb “Tex” Yarrington had an insurgent in sight. “Rock and Roll”, with those three words, the world around the SEALs and Marine from the C.O.G went into action. Simultaneously, their M4s, SAWS, SCARS, M14s and M16A4s went into action. Raining a combination of 5.56APRs and 7.62NATOs into the exposed Hadjis that had been searching the ridge for them, as well as for the others that had chose to expose themselves so carelessly. Both teams, almost in unison, took off down the ridges. There wasn't much cover, but there seemed to be no worry as the rounds being returned were poorly placed and done so as the insurgents retreated into their buildings. Both teams had a devastating affect on the terrorists, and, most of the rounds they'd fired had hit its targets...
While the SEALS had gained a substantial advantage on their initial assault on the west side of the Village, one that had turned into a violent series of house to house, the Marines on to the east found themselves pinned down just before the ancient walls that surrounded it. It appeared that the insurgency had noticed the SEALS prior to their assault and had begun to retreat towards the east side of the village to regroup and reorganize themselves to counter attack, they ran smack into the advancing Recon Marines. As the insurgents focused on trying to clear their path for retreat via Marine elimination, the SEALs took their first casualty. “I’m hit..” was all that Operation Kyle Needham could hear over the intense fire fighting going on within the city. As he looked over his right shoulder, he could see Doc Dan Stout, who was in a sprint; crumble to his knees before settling onto his stomach in a harsh tumble. As Needham tried to react to the situation, he noted the rounds that continued to pepper the ground around Doc Stout, and most importantly, his lack of movement. “Marshy”, as his friends called him, did not see any initial wound on their Corpsman, but knew that Stout was in bad shape. As the carbon fiber clad knuckles of “Marshy” Needhams left glove drove into the sand right above Stouts head, his other wrapped around the “grab handle” of Stouts LBV and he began to move him into the house that him and the rest of the team were in. As Marshy retreated through the threshold of the door, a round whizzed into the wall just to his left. He flinched but did not falter in his attempt to get his friend into cover. That’s when everything “went dark”, as Kyle Needham would later recount. “It felt like the air had been sucked out of me, like something had just thrown me right into the wall to the right of the door. Then, a … cloud just took over the room. I don’t remember letting go of Docs vest, but… “He paused, trying to fight back his emotions. “I guess I didn’t.” It had taken everything that Operator Needham had to recompose himself and fight through the excruciating pain that had overtaken him as he came to. “I just listened. I tried to yell out but couldn’t seem to get the air back into my lungs. They were filled up with dust and sand and I just couldn’t… I couldn’t move.” The building that the SEAL team was in had been hit by a RPG, and with devastating affect. Two of the Operators had been immobilized entirely; Doc Stout and Operator Mrozinski were both lost in the blast emitted from the Rocket Propelled Grenade as it ripped through the building. Drayer and Needham had both been immobilized. Drayers recount of Mrozinskis last actions were “everything a SEAL would do for his fallen brother.” Mrozinski had fallen back from his firing position to help Needham get Stout through the door. He’d actually been the reason that Needham was not hit by the rounds that impacted the door next to his head. As Mrozinski retreated from his position, Drayer holding it down with his Squad Automatic Weapon, he’d noted a man wielding an AK-47 on Needhams person as he’d drug Stout through the doorway. Mrozinksi had moved his brother out of the way, only by an inch or two, but enough to prevent the rounds from hitting him. Regrettably, he himself was hit. Drayer recalls Mrozinski, with his M4 leveled, squeezing off a few rounds as he moved Marshy out of the way, and then flinching before his M4 fell from his grasp. That’s when the room had gone dark.
Caleb “Tex” Yarrington had established communication with Drayer prior to the explosion that silenced them. Communication had only been established between the two teams for a moment but work had been done quickly. Between Drayer and Yarrington, they’d estimated the number of insurgents within the city and given each other rough coordinates of where each of their teams was located. Yarrington was just about to give Drayer their SITREP (situation report) when the Marines heard the explosion and communication went down on the other end. I believe it’s safe to say that each of the Marines felt their stomachs drop as static from their SEAL brothers filled their headsets. Almost without thinking, the team voted unanimously to get to the other side of the village to assist their brothers out. Yarrington had spotted a second story building built into the mountainside earlier, and the team chose to secure it so that Yarrington could provide them with an over watch via Springfield Armory M14. “Lets go, lets fucking go!” Maczinski yelled as he crested the village’s outlying walls with his Rock River Arms tucked into the crook of his right shoulder. With his index finger along with his fellow Marines suppressed on their weapons trigger, they sent a brutal barrage of 5.56NATO rounds into the insurgents that exposed themselves as they ran. The team sprinted towards the two story building that sat no more than thirty yards away from them.
“That rug must have been in the family since the Mongolians tried to invade this fuckhole place.” De Boer said as the COLT Magazine that, moments earlier had assisted him in firing a series of 5.56NATO round directly into the chest of the young man lying on the floor. With the crimson pool of blood pumping from his chest as quickly as the air was from his lungs, Maczinski and De Boer couldn’t help but look at one another in disbelief. “This is the shit that we’ll never forget bro. This war will never end, and even though we came here to help them, they’re never going to see it through out eyes. ” Maczinski was cut short as Yarrington and Riojas rifles began to go to work above them. Riojas was spotting for Yarrington when they noticed the head of a man down one of the streets darting behind cover and then back out. The man seemed to be spotting for someone else, as every time he disappeared, rounds began to slam into the lower level of the building they were in, where De Boer and Maczinski were. Tex and “Obi”, Riojas first name cut short, had focused their attention on the man and Tex planned to take him down the next time his head poked out. With his trigger finger set, round chambered and scope on spot, the team waited for the man to make his move. A second later, his head poked around the corner and Yarrington reacted. Within a split second, the trigger was squeezed, the round exited the rifle and the man was out of sight... well, most of it, anyways. Almost simultaneously, the team looked at one another, their mouths gaping. Neither of them had ever seen what they’d just witnessed, and it seemed that the battle had stopped in response to it. Yarrington had placed the crosshairs of the M14s Nikon Scope on the throat of the spotter prior to pulling the trigger. His dope had not been set properly, and he’s figured, “Aim for the throat, if it goes high, it’ll hit him in the head, or in the chest if it goes low.” They were both surprised as the 7.52 impacted the exact spot that Yarrington had the crosshairs focused on. Yarrington had seen it all. The round hitting the man in the throat and his head jettison from his body. The body of the man seemed to stand there for a moment before it “flinched” to the shot as it vanished from sight. Head having bounced off of the wall of the building behind the man and rolling halfway down the alley. Resting in an upright position facing the two, jaw agape and eyes open. The whole works. Their brief exchange of “holy shit, what just happened” was again cut short when they heard the familiar sound of a S.A.W coming to life within the village. For a moment the two expected to hear the rounds impacting into their building, but instead, saw insurgents running away from the smoldering building within the city. An instant later, Drayer could be heard on their radio. He sounded out of breath, but, he was alive. “This is GD, break. We’ve got two… we’ve got two KIAs. Marshy and I are still in it, but we’re both fucked up. Over.” The Marines could tell that Drayer wasn’t quite sure of their situation, but he needed help, fast. “Roger that, GD. We’re on our way. Break.” De Boer, Maczinski and Riojas began their short run to the smoldering building that was the last place they knew their SEAL counterparts to be.
Marshy and Drayer had composed themselves as much as they could with what they’d just gone through. They’d both sustained multiple fragment wounds and Marshys right leg and side had lost all feeling and function. Drayer wasn’t doing much better with a gash down the right side of his face that immobilized his eye and sent a crimson stream down the right side of his DCUs. His right wrist also showed signs of being fractured or broken, yet, both of them had maintained their combat effectiveness. It had taken Marshy and Drayer both a substantial amount of time to get back on their feet. So much so, that when they came to, a few insurgents had been rummaging around in the building they’d been in upon its explosion. Marshy had upholstered his SOCOM Mk23 that sat at his hip as silently as he could. As he leveled it on the back of one man through the ruble, he heard and saw the carnage that Justin “The Great Destroyers” Drayers S.A.W had at close range on the soft tissue of the trespassers bodies. Justin got this name due to his love for going above and beyond to get the job done. In this instance, getting the job done meant covering the walls that were still standing and his fellow SEAL with brain and upper torso fragments. “Fuck man!” Marshy yelled as he struggled to remove the large clay and stone rocks from on top of his body. As he slowly got to his feet and looked around, he noticed that the body of Mrozinski was lying off to one side of the destroyed building, motionless. He looked at Drayer, who was in a daze, but still smiling. “We’re all jacked up, dude.” Drayer said to Kyle, who could do nothing more than nod, hardly able to hear him. Needham noticed that his now immobilized was still holding onto the strap of what was part of Stouts vest, but, that Stout was nowhere in sight.
Part two has been added. TO BE CONTINUED... AGAIN!