Post by Munin on Oct 24, 2005 15:02:40 GMT -5
Emergency Briefing, 1100 hours: American Special Forces have been criss-crossing the no-fly zone en-route to strike targets for over a week now. While largely ineffectual at actually shooting down an Imperialist helicopter, the Valiant People's Air Defence has managed to score several near misses, forcing cowardly American pilots to jink wildly to evade ground rocket and small-arms fire.
Signal intercept and decryption experts have determined that in similar engagement this morning, the American pilots were forced to jink so wildly that several crates of gear or munitions actually fell from the Imperialist American aircraft. These intercepted communications identify the lost gear by the codename "Emerald Blizzard," which our esteemed Soviet comrades tell us refers to their advanced Gen IV+ night-vision gear. Recovering this gear could give the Valiant Peoples' Army the capability to strike at the hated Imperialist American invaders by night, or at the very least its sale to interested Russian or Communist Chinese buyers could finance much needed arms, supplies, and upgrades to our beleagured air defense network.
As such, our mission was to search the valley traversed by the American Blackhawk earlier this morning, retrieve the crate of gear, and exfiltrate to a road where the gear would be rushed to the Valiant Peoples' Capital for analysis or sale. There was just one problem - an American Special Forces team was thought to be looking for the gear as well.
Orders in hand, our team set out from our staging area, sweeping through the valley overflown by the Americans this morning. Searching the area of the old lookout tower, we found nothing, and saw no sign of the enemy. Moving through the valley, we came to the vicinity of the old air-defense command bunker compound. Sending part of our force on to search and secure said complex, I led two men aside to search the vicinity of a smaller air-defense revetment to the east. We had just cleared the revetment and began our systematic search when I received a radio transmission:
"Munin, this is Zorak. We have cleared the bunker and have a visual on the enemy. They appear to already have the goods." Curse those Americans and their helicopter mobility, they had beaten us to the prize! But they still had to get away, and we were superior in number and fighting on familiar ground. Let them taste the might of the Valiant Peoples' Army! I gave the order: "Zorak, this is Munin, move to engage, we'll be coming hard on your six."
Comrade Zorak was quick and brutally efficient - it was less than a minute before we heard the chatter of small-arms fire in the distance, the heavy rattle of Comrade Jacko's squad automatic weapon suppressing the cowardly Imperialist Americans. On our way across the rear of his element's line of advance to support his flank, we came upon a large clearing. Familiar with the terrain, I knew that this was the only clearing large enough to land a Blackhawk for miles - yes, the Imperialist Americans would have to come here, and when they did, we'd be ready.
Indeed, it appeared that Comrade Zorak's element had the same thought, and had moved to occupy the crest of a small ridge to the north of the enemy landing zone, courageously putting his own forces between the enemy and the safety of their hated helicopters. He and Comrade Motown reported the situation well in hand - two enemy casualties, no friendly casualties. The attack was going well!
Still, the Americans are skilled, if treacherous. The continued to keep their recovered gear always one step ahead of the Valiant Peoples' advance, and where one man fell, another would step up to take his place immediately. I must grudgingly admit that these Americans had mettle. Comrade Zorak continued to deliver bad news: "Zorak to Munin, the enemy is breaking contact and moving further into the valley. I am attempting to flank them while Comrade Jacko keeps them pinned."
I knew that the Americans had no choice but to return here eventually, and leading all of us on a merry chase would only make their job easier. "Munin to Zorak, roger that. Keep pressure on them, secure the crate if you can. My element will stay here to cover their probable extraction point."
With grim determination, Comrade Xaos, Comrade Warmonger, and I set up a hasty defensive perimeter. Indeed, Comrade Warmonger virtually vanished into the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing, and had I not watched him take his position, I'd never have seen him. Never let it be said that we Valiant Peoples' Army soldiers are not clever.
Time passed and the sounds of fire drew farther and farther away as the cowardly Americans drew our forces further and further north along the valley. Then the sound of all fighting eventually ceased, and I began to fear the worst. "Zorak, Motown, sitrep." The response was thankfully swift: "Munin this is Zorak, negative sitrep. I have no hostiles. We are continuing the sweep up the valley." The other element leader was also quick to reply: "Munin, this is Motown. Enkidu has a visual on one hostile, but no clear shot. We are moving to flank and engage." Good, we were still bringing the fight to them, and it appeared that we were thinning their numbers!
But time passed, and still we heard no sounds of fighting. An eerie silence filled the valley. We waited tensely at the clearing as clouds scudded by overhead. the sun broke through, which under ordinary circumstance would be welcome. Alas, in this case it shone down upon us in the clearing and made the shadows in the nearby woods into pools of inky blackness. We would have to trust our ears.
We didn't have to wait long. We heard the snapping of a few twigs and quiet rustling in the thick undergrowth. The sharp-eyed Comrade Xaos looked to me and signaled that he saw one - make that two enemy soldiers stealthily approaching the clearing. So, the wiley Americans had given our brethren the slip, and sought to escape on the sly, did they? Well, we were ready for them.
"Munin to all elements, American forces are closing on the clearing. Move to engage immediately." We prepared to unleash our fire at them as they broke the tree-line. Comrade Xaos was the first to open fire at a target of opportunity. But his fire was cut brief by a volley of fire from our left flank - one of the Americans had snuck around to our side! Clever! But he was too bold in his movement, and rapidly moved across into the clearing, checking Comrade Xaos' rapidly cooling corpse - and into my sights. Still, I did as I was trained and held my fire, waiting until the Americans were massed in one place. They did not disappoint me.
In mere seconds, two of them burst into the clearing to take up defensive positions while another hefted a heavy crate from the treeline into the open and popped smoke. As a column of dense blue rose into the sunny autumn sky, I opened fire. Within seconds, the two in the clearing fell under the scythe of my opening fusillade. Comrade Warmonger, ever the opportunist used my distraction to make his move, gunning down a third Imperialist.
Still the Americans came. I could hear their leader barking out orders, rallying his men and organizing a concerted push. I knew that if something didn't happen fast, they'd break through and secure their extraction zone, and since they had sent up their smoke signal air support was not far away. "Munin to all elements, we need support at the clearing NOW!"
the answer I received was music to my ears: "Munin, this is Motown, we are approaching from their rear and arranging a little surprise for them. We'll be there shortly." Safe in the knowledge that support was on the way, I became emboldened, trading fire with Americans across the clearing, trying to draw their attention in my direction to give my comrades complete surprise. In less than 30 seconds, I heard the chatter of small-arms fire erupt from the north side of the clearing, heard Americans screaming as they were cut down from behind. Knowing that the time to close the noose was now, we acted. Rising to my feet and rushing the encircled and confused Americans, I closed the trap: "Warmonger, push forward!" With no where to run or hide, the Americans were gunned down to the last man.
Still, our mission was not over. As I communicated our position and situation back to HQ, I was greeted with unwelcome news - the truck we were to exfiltrate in had blown a tire. Bah! Stupid unreliable Chinese equipment! We would need to hold our position for ten more minutes to give the truck time to arrive at our rally point. Making the most of a bad situation, we set up a hasty perimeter and started our long wait.
If you have ever faced American Special Forces determined to overtake you, you know this: ten minutes is as a lifetime. It took only five for reinforcements from a second American Special Forces detachment to find us. They came hard and fast. Comrade Warmonger was the first to fall, scythed down by deadly accurate fire from a significant range. Comrade Motown was next, felled in a deadly crossfire. Suddenly, the entire norther end of the clearing was laid open to hostile forces. Comrade Enkidu grimaced and gripped his rifle, ready to sell his life dearly if the enemy made their push across the clearing. Moving to our right flank, I traded long-range fire with an American, neither of us effective at this range. Still it was enough to convince him that the sector was covered, and he drew back.
Time stretched out, and it seemed that we would be overrun at any second. Then I received word from HQ: "Munin, you are mobile. Say again, you are mobile. Withdraw to rally point."
While I count myself a brave man, I am also no fool. By killing the first Imperialist American Special Forces team and recovering their goods, we had kicked a hornet's nest, and these American reinforcements were showing their willingness to sting. It was time to leave. It took only a quick "let's go!" to get Comrade Enkidu to quit his position and grab the other side of the crate. We quickly began to move south along the ridge away from the clearing and towards the road (and safety). A short ways away, we encountered Comrade Jacko, his jaw jutting in determination as he swept his SAW over the valley below, looking for pursuing Americans. Comrade Zorak also got in on the fray, covering the next stage of our advance from his prone and hidden position. His intervention was timely, as we soon passed the body of an American he had downed mere moments before. So, they had thought to cut us off from our extraction as well, eh?
Our element bounded down the hill and into the floor of the valley, heading quickly for the road and our exfiltration. The lack of gunfire to our rear indicated that we had successfully broken contact - victory was ours! We had recovered valuable Imperialist technology and bloodied the noses of America's elite soldiers!
Still, as I looked at the faces of those who remained and thought of those who had fallen, I was sobered. These Americans had put up a hell of a fight, and had been extremely close to victory themselves, not once but twice. Yet the Valiant Peoples' Army had faced a terrible foe and prevailed. Viva la revolucion!
Signal intercept and decryption experts have determined that in similar engagement this morning, the American pilots were forced to jink so wildly that several crates of gear or munitions actually fell from the Imperialist American aircraft. These intercepted communications identify the lost gear by the codename "Emerald Blizzard," which our esteemed Soviet comrades tell us refers to their advanced Gen IV+ night-vision gear. Recovering this gear could give the Valiant Peoples' Army the capability to strike at the hated Imperialist American invaders by night, or at the very least its sale to interested Russian or Communist Chinese buyers could finance much needed arms, supplies, and upgrades to our beleagured air defense network.
As such, our mission was to search the valley traversed by the American Blackhawk earlier this morning, retrieve the crate of gear, and exfiltrate to a road where the gear would be rushed to the Valiant Peoples' Capital for analysis or sale. There was just one problem - an American Special Forces team was thought to be looking for the gear as well.
Orders in hand, our team set out from our staging area, sweeping through the valley overflown by the Americans this morning. Searching the area of the old lookout tower, we found nothing, and saw no sign of the enemy. Moving through the valley, we came to the vicinity of the old air-defense command bunker compound. Sending part of our force on to search and secure said complex, I led two men aside to search the vicinity of a smaller air-defense revetment to the east. We had just cleared the revetment and began our systematic search when I received a radio transmission:
"Munin, this is Zorak. We have cleared the bunker and have a visual on the enemy. They appear to already have the goods." Curse those Americans and their helicopter mobility, they had beaten us to the prize! But they still had to get away, and we were superior in number and fighting on familiar ground. Let them taste the might of the Valiant Peoples' Army! I gave the order: "Zorak, this is Munin, move to engage, we'll be coming hard on your six."
Comrade Zorak was quick and brutally efficient - it was less than a minute before we heard the chatter of small-arms fire in the distance, the heavy rattle of Comrade Jacko's squad automatic weapon suppressing the cowardly Imperialist Americans. On our way across the rear of his element's line of advance to support his flank, we came upon a large clearing. Familiar with the terrain, I knew that this was the only clearing large enough to land a Blackhawk for miles - yes, the Imperialist Americans would have to come here, and when they did, we'd be ready.
Indeed, it appeared that Comrade Zorak's element had the same thought, and had moved to occupy the crest of a small ridge to the north of the enemy landing zone, courageously putting his own forces between the enemy and the safety of their hated helicopters. He and Comrade Motown reported the situation well in hand - two enemy casualties, no friendly casualties. The attack was going well!
Still, the Americans are skilled, if treacherous. The continued to keep their recovered gear always one step ahead of the Valiant Peoples' advance, and where one man fell, another would step up to take his place immediately. I must grudgingly admit that these Americans had mettle. Comrade Zorak continued to deliver bad news: "Zorak to Munin, the enemy is breaking contact and moving further into the valley. I am attempting to flank them while Comrade Jacko keeps them pinned."
I knew that the Americans had no choice but to return here eventually, and leading all of us on a merry chase would only make their job easier. "Munin to Zorak, roger that. Keep pressure on them, secure the crate if you can. My element will stay here to cover their probable extraction point."
With grim determination, Comrade Xaos, Comrade Warmonger, and I set up a hasty defensive perimeter. Indeed, Comrade Warmonger virtually vanished into the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing, and had I not watched him take his position, I'd never have seen him. Never let it be said that we Valiant Peoples' Army soldiers are not clever.
Time passed and the sounds of fire drew farther and farther away as the cowardly Americans drew our forces further and further north along the valley. Then the sound of all fighting eventually ceased, and I began to fear the worst. "Zorak, Motown, sitrep." The response was thankfully swift: "Munin this is Zorak, negative sitrep. I have no hostiles. We are continuing the sweep up the valley." The other element leader was also quick to reply: "Munin, this is Motown. Enkidu has a visual on one hostile, but no clear shot. We are moving to flank and engage." Good, we were still bringing the fight to them, and it appeared that we were thinning their numbers!
But time passed, and still we heard no sounds of fighting. An eerie silence filled the valley. We waited tensely at the clearing as clouds scudded by overhead. the sun broke through, which under ordinary circumstance would be welcome. Alas, in this case it shone down upon us in the clearing and made the shadows in the nearby woods into pools of inky blackness. We would have to trust our ears.
We didn't have to wait long. We heard the snapping of a few twigs and quiet rustling in the thick undergrowth. The sharp-eyed Comrade Xaos looked to me and signaled that he saw one - make that two enemy soldiers stealthily approaching the clearing. So, the wiley Americans had given our brethren the slip, and sought to escape on the sly, did they? Well, we were ready for them.
"Munin to all elements, American forces are closing on the clearing. Move to engage immediately." We prepared to unleash our fire at them as they broke the tree-line. Comrade Xaos was the first to open fire at a target of opportunity. But his fire was cut brief by a volley of fire from our left flank - one of the Americans had snuck around to our side! Clever! But he was too bold in his movement, and rapidly moved across into the clearing, checking Comrade Xaos' rapidly cooling corpse - and into my sights. Still, I did as I was trained and held my fire, waiting until the Americans were massed in one place. They did not disappoint me.
In mere seconds, two of them burst into the clearing to take up defensive positions while another hefted a heavy crate from the treeline into the open and popped smoke. As a column of dense blue rose into the sunny autumn sky, I opened fire. Within seconds, the two in the clearing fell under the scythe of my opening fusillade. Comrade Warmonger, ever the opportunist used my distraction to make his move, gunning down a third Imperialist.
Still the Americans came. I could hear their leader barking out orders, rallying his men and organizing a concerted push. I knew that if something didn't happen fast, they'd break through and secure their extraction zone, and since they had sent up their smoke signal air support was not far away. "Munin to all elements, we need support at the clearing NOW!"
the answer I received was music to my ears: "Munin, this is Motown, we are approaching from their rear and arranging a little surprise for them. We'll be there shortly." Safe in the knowledge that support was on the way, I became emboldened, trading fire with Americans across the clearing, trying to draw their attention in my direction to give my comrades complete surprise. In less than 30 seconds, I heard the chatter of small-arms fire erupt from the north side of the clearing, heard Americans screaming as they were cut down from behind. Knowing that the time to close the noose was now, we acted. Rising to my feet and rushing the encircled and confused Americans, I closed the trap: "Warmonger, push forward!" With no where to run or hide, the Americans were gunned down to the last man.
Still, our mission was not over. As I communicated our position and situation back to HQ, I was greeted with unwelcome news - the truck we were to exfiltrate in had blown a tire. Bah! Stupid unreliable Chinese equipment! We would need to hold our position for ten more minutes to give the truck time to arrive at our rally point. Making the most of a bad situation, we set up a hasty perimeter and started our long wait.
If you have ever faced American Special Forces determined to overtake you, you know this: ten minutes is as a lifetime. It took only five for reinforcements from a second American Special Forces detachment to find us. They came hard and fast. Comrade Warmonger was the first to fall, scythed down by deadly accurate fire from a significant range. Comrade Motown was next, felled in a deadly crossfire. Suddenly, the entire norther end of the clearing was laid open to hostile forces. Comrade Enkidu grimaced and gripped his rifle, ready to sell his life dearly if the enemy made their push across the clearing. Moving to our right flank, I traded long-range fire with an American, neither of us effective at this range. Still it was enough to convince him that the sector was covered, and he drew back.
Time stretched out, and it seemed that we would be overrun at any second. Then I received word from HQ: "Munin, you are mobile. Say again, you are mobile. Withdraw to rally point."
While I count myself a brave man, I am also no fool. By killing the first Imperialist American Special Forces team and recovering their goods, we had kicked a hornet's nest, and these American reinforcements were showing their willingness to sting. It was time to leave. It took only a quick "let's go!" to get Comrade Enkidu to quit his position and grab the other side of the crate. We quickly began to move south along the ridge away from the clearing and towards the road (and safety). A short ways away, we encountered Comrade Jacko, his jaw jutting in determination as he swept his SAW over the valley below, looking for pursuing Americans. Comrade Zorak also got in on the fray, covering the next stage of our advance from his prone and hidden position. His intervention was timely, as we soon passed the body of an American he had downed mere moments before. So, they had thought to cut us off from our extraction as well, eh?
Our element bounded down the hill and into the floor of the valley, heading quickly for the road and our exfiltration. The lack of gunfire to our rear indicated that we had successfully broken contact - victory was ours! We had recovered valuable Imperialist technology and bloodied the noses of America's elite soldiers!
Still, as I looked at the faces of those who remained and thought of those who had fallen, I was sobered. These Americans had put up a hell of a fight, and had been extremely close to victory themselves, not once but twice. Yet the Valiant Peoples' Army had faced a terrible foe and prevailed. Viva la revolucion!