Post by Tex on May 9, 2007 20:45:45 GMT -5
Patience; the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties. One can not honestly claim to be patient until they have truly put it to the test and been pushed to the edge.
2215 Hours
Operation: Whisper in the Wind
The hot molten sun set over a field of lush green grass, shadows stretching across the ravine. Light began to fade over the group of soldiers in the rundown Village. Shouts of war and gunfire could be heard as their reinforcements made way through the soggy valley. Trudging through thick, wet mud, diving for cover of bunker to avoid the everlasting barrage of bullets whizzing just over their heads.
As darkness set in the reinforcements made their way over the river and through the valley; open to attacks from the ridges towering above them on either side. Quickly and methodically they made their way through the encumbering earth, at long last arriving to the village. Bullets rained down upon the tiny village and it's inhabitants. Screams of the wounded calling for medics merged with the continuous sound of gunfire.
Alone in a bunker, a solitary soldier sat, cursing his firearm for breaking down on him. A lone rifle sits in the corner next to a bulky plate carrier, pistol missing from it's holster. An eerie silence creeps over the village as the soldier makes his way out, informing squad mates of his plan to sneak out into the valley. To flank the incoming enemies on the ridges above them.
Carefully he makes his way out from the village into the lush valley, dropping to his belly and slowly crawling into the darkness. The moon shone bright behind the giant trees amongst the ridge, but not even a sliver of light made it down into the valley. Sliding through the wet grass he began to lose sight of the village behind him, and saw nothing but a black hole of darkness ahead of him.
The disturbing silence from the ridges was shattered by a twig snapping not 30 yards in front of him. He had no visual, but could hear the soft rustle of grass beneath a body. There he lay, in complete silence, enshrouded by a thick layer of darkness, pistol drawn and pointed in the direction of the noise, eagerly waiting what approached him. The damp earth began to soak into his clothes, a chill sinking in. A few minutes passed by and again he heard the rustle of foliage in front of him, slowly approaching him. Eyes straining for a sight of the intruder, not moving a muscle patiently waiting. Another five minutes passed, only silence ensued.
A shape appeared in the distance, black silhouette against white bridge, it went prone not 15 yards ahead of him. Pistol trained where the shape had disappeared, watching, waiting. Suddenly the silhouette appeared again, standing tall, he squeezed the trigger gently...
*Cha-Chink*
The sound of his slide racking back as he fired a single round into the intruders chest was all that could be heard. The shape fell back wards and lay there motionless. He froze staying as still as possible hoping avoid detection from any of the intruders companions. Five minutes passed and he heard no sound of movement around him and he let out a deep sigh and relaxed his body again.
Silence was pierced by gun fire behind him at the village, no bullets whizzed over his head, the fire was directed toward the ridges. He looked back out into the valley and saw a lanky shape move quickly toward him, like a stalking wolf. The enemy was advancing with the distraction on the village, directly toward him. As he readied his sidearm they ducked down beneath a bunker from which he could hear their muffled whispers.
There were two men, one with a deep voice and another with a scratchy voice and a smokers cough. The silence broke again as another firefight burst out from behind him and the two men darted forward to the bunker just 10ft away from him. They settled there two of them, hunkered down at his 8o'clock not once noticing him. Little did they know of the hidden danger behind them. Suddenly a third appeared and shots rang out at the bunker, a few bullets flew past his head. The third member took a bullet to the neck and was out of commission with the other two ducking back down into cover.
He could hear movement of more troops now ahead of him, far away but enclosing. The decision he had to make now was to either fire away at the two in the bunker, completely revealing his position, or to take the chance with his blade. The two rose up together and sprayed down covering fire as their compatriots moved closer. He had to choose, time was of the essence.
The whisper pierced through the night air.
"On my mark.... GO!"
As soon as the two rose above the bunker and began firing again he lept to his feet, moist ground sinking beneath his boots. Drawing his knife, the distinctive sound of metal sliding from its sheath, he reached the first undetected. Going over the shoulder of his enemy, sinking the steel of his blade just below the soldiers sternum and again at his kidney, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. He spun quickly placing a knee in the small of the second victims back, ripping back his head, exposing his throat as his swiftly slid the jagged edge of his blade across. Warm blood spilled onto his hands as the flesh shredded around the cold steel.
Diving over the bunker, gathering slivers of the wood in his abdomen, he avoided fire from the enemies to his rear. Landing hard on his shoulder and rolling to face the bunker in hopes of avoiding fire from him team.
But alas his comrade Doc and his G36 sliced through his body, bullets tearing him to shreds. His body slumped down as his blood smeared against the wall of the bunker, glowing a bright red, hand gripping his knife to the end.
A lone rifle sits in the corner next to a bulky plate carrier, pistol missing from it's holster.
2215 Hours
Operation: Whisper in the Wind
The hot molten sun set over a field of lush green grass, shadows stretching across the ravine. Light began to fade over the group of soldiers in the rundown Village. Shouts of war and gunfire could be heard as their reinforcements made way through the soggy valley. Trudging through thick, wet mud, diving for cover of bunker to avoid the everlasting barrage of bullets whizzing just over their heads.
As darkness set in the reinforcements made their way over the river and through the valley; open to attacks from the ridges towering above them on either side. Quickly and methodically they made their way through the encumbering earth, at long last arriving to the village. Bullets rained down upon the tiny village and it's inhabitants. Screams of the wounded calling for medics merged with the continuous sound of gunfire.
Alone in a bunker, a solitary soldier sat, cursing his firearm for breaking down on him. A lone rifle sits in the corner next to a bulky plate carrier, pistol missing from it's holster. An eerie silence creeps over the village as the soldier makes his way out, informing squad mates of his plan to sneak out into the valley. To flank the incoming enemies on the ridges above them.
Carefully he makes his way out from the village into the lush valley, dropping to his belly and slowly crawling into the darkness. The moon shone bright behind the giant trees amongst the ridge, but not even a sliver of light made it down into the valley. Sliding through the wet grass he began to lose sight of the village behind him, and saw nothing but a black hole of darkness ahead of him.
The disturbing silence from the ridges was shattered by a twig snapping not 30 yards in front of him. He had no visual, but could hear the soft rustle of grass beneath a body. There he lay, in complete silence, enshrouded by a thick layer of darkness, pistol drawn and pointed in the direction of the noise, eagerly waiting what approached him. The damp earth began to soak into his clothes, a chill sinking in. A few minutes passed by and again he heard the rustle of foliage in front of him, slowly approaching him. Eyes straining for a sight of the intruder, not moving a muscle patiently waiting. Another five minutes passed, only silence ensued.
A shape appeared in the distance, black silhouette against white bridge, it went prone not 15 yards ahead of him. Pistol trained where the shape had disappeared, watching, waiting. Suddenly the silhouette appeared again, standing tall, he squeezed the trigger gently...
*Cha-Chink*
The sound of his slide racking back as he fired a single round into the intruders chest was all that could be heard. The shape fell back wards and lay there motionless. He froze staying as still as possible hoping avoid detection from any of the intruders companions. Five minutes passed and he heard no sound of movement around him and he let out a deep sigh and relaxed his body again.
Silence was pierced by gun fire behind him at the village, no bullets whizzed over his head, the fire was directed toward the ridges. He looked back out into the valley and saw a lanky shape move quickly toward him, like a stalking wolf. The enemy was advancing with the distraction on the village, directly toward him. As he readied his sidearm they ducked down beneath a bunker from which he could hear their muffled whispers.
There were two men, one with a deep voice and another with a scratchy voice and a smokers cough. The silence broke again as another firefight burst out from behind him and the two men darted forward to the bunker just 10ft away from him. They settled there two of them, hunkered down at his 8o'clock not once noticing him. Little did they know of the hidden danger behind them. Suddenly a third appeared and shots rang out at the bunker, a few bullets flew past his head. The third member took a bullet to the neck and was out of commission with the other two ducking back down into cover.
He could hear movement of more troops now ahead of him, far away but enclosing. The decision he had to make now was to either fire away at the two in the bunker, completely revealing his position, or to take the chance with his blade. The two rose up together and sprayed down covering fire as their compatriots moved closer. He had to choose, time was of the essence.
The whisper pierced through the night air.
"On my mark.... GO!"
As soon as the two rose above the bunker and began firing again he lept to his feet, moist ground sinking beneath his boots. Drawing his knife, the distinctive sound of metal sliding from its sheath, he reached the first undetected. Going over the shoulder of his enemy, sinking the steel of his blade just below the soldiers sternum and again at his kidney, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. He spun quickly placing a knee in the small of the second victims back, ripping back his head, exposing his throat as his swiftly slid the jagged edge of his blade across. Warm blood spilled onto his hands as the flesh shredded around the cold steel.
Diving over the bunker, gathering slivers of the wood in his abdomen, he avoided fire from the enemies to his rear. Landing hard on his shoulder and rolling to face the bunker in hopes of avoiding fire from him team.
But alas his comrade Doc and his G36 sliced through his body, bullets tearing him to shreds. His body slumped down as his blood smeared against the wall of the bunker, glowing a bright red, hand gripping his knife to the end.
A lone rifle sits in the corner next to a bulky plate carrier, pistol missing from it's holster.