posted on May, 20 2005 @ 06:09 PM
***Somewhere just off Newcastle***
Crewman James McNeill felt the horrible taste of seawater in his mouth and the cold metal of the deck plate as he was flatted thanks to another wave
hitting his ship. As he picked himself up a black high-tension rope suddenly fell from the sky and landed on the deck in front of him, confused he
looked up and saw three lights in a triangle formation. He began to move to inform the bridge when a black shape descended down the rope at a high
speed. Before he could move a black combat boot was squarely planted into his face and he gave a cry of pain as he fell, the black shape moved off and
was replaced by another and another. The cold barrel of rifle was planted onto his, “Désolé mon ami, dieu est avec vous” said a voice from
behind him. He felt a burning sensation on his forehead briefly then his world went black.
“Clear!” shouted Sergeant Gordon as he swept the deck with his suppressed Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine gun, “team 1 proceed to point alpha,
team 2 descend” said the calm voice over his headset. Gordon moved towards the hatchway into the small tankers superstructure, his team following
behind him. As he opened the hatch he swept the alleyway with his MP5, finger resting on the trigger but steady as a rock. After making sure the alley
way was clear they ascended up the stairs towards the bridge, a poor crewman met an untimely end as he unluckily walked out into Gordon’s field of
fire; they hid the body and carried on. Once reaching the bridge they entered swiftly and efficiently taking the entire crew by surprise, the sound of
triggers being depressed, suppressed bullets flying and the thump of bodies hitting the floor. The captain suddenly appeared from his cabin and made
to grab the nearest man but was cut down by a black clad man at the door with a single shot from his pistol. The captain lay dead at the door with
blood seeping from his throat, “Vous remercier le lieutenant” said corporal Robidoux. “Your welcome private. Sergeant, get these bodies cleared
and post guards on the bridge.” Said the man at the door his two gold grey bars stitched into his black clad uniform identified him as a lieutenant.
“Bridge secure,” he said over the headset, “roger that team 1, team 2 descend.” Came the voice over the radio.
Sergeant Schluter felt the tension on the rope as it became taught from his teams lead man going down the rope, special forces and various law and
military forces of the world had perfected this method of fast rope descent to an art form and Schluter was no stranger to this practice, his time in
Kommando Spezialkraefte had given him all the experience he needed in fast descents. His boots landed down onto the metal floor hard and he quickly
got to his allotted firing spot and swept the deck for possible targets, his team landed behind him and quickly done the same. “Clear!” he called,
his West German accent strong even after all the years of working beside British and American forces. “Team two proceed to point delta, team 3
descend, echo one move in for pickup.” Came the calm voice over Schluter’s headset. He moved over towards a hatch in the deck and opened it for
one of his men to climb down into the bowels of the ship. After reaching the bottom of the ladder they moved through towards the engineering room and
cut down anyone in their paths silently and ruthlessly. As the last cartridge fell from Schluter’s weapon he looked at the room in which he stood,
the bodies of the helpless engineers lay sprawled on the floor and the deck, few had seen them but none had stood a chance. He walked over towards one
of the bodies, it moaned and tried to move, Schluter slung his rifle then drew his Glock 18 pistol and walked up behind the body, the man was the
chief engineer and was crawling towards the alarm switch. His team-mates cleared the bodies away mechanically completely seemingly oblivious to this,
Schluter raised the pistol and fired twice into the mans back, he dropped and cried out in pain. Schluter then placed the pistol to the rear of the
mans head and pulled the trigger, the round penetrated and killed the man instantly. After reloading his pistol he motioned to one of his men to move
the body. “Engine room, secure.” He said over his head set while leaning back on one of the railings pulling out his water and taking a deep
drink. “Talk about irony…” he thought as he drank, remembering his days of fighting terrorists.
***London****
Cpr12 walked off the large jet aeroplane with “American airlines” written along its fuselage, along into Heathrow airport, the proper English
voice of the announcer on the overhead speaker could be heard clearly over the chatter of people. As he walked out of “arrivals” two men in black
suits who couldn’t have looked more out of place if they tried, stood up and walked towards him. “Cpr12?” asked the taller of the two men, his
baldhead shining due to the lights. “Yes, and you are?” he countered. “We’re from the embassy, if you come this way please.” He said as he
motioned towards the main entrance. The trio exited the main building and a black car appeared with two cars following it, “well at least your
subtle.” He commented while getting into the car. “Sir, we’re under orders to do this. Normally we’d fly you but someone at the embassy wanted
us to drive you with an escort.” Said the smaller of the two men, his short hair now dripping wet from the heavy rain outside.
As the convoy moved off a man leaning against the wall of the main building having a cigarette stood up and spoke with a very southern American accent
into his sleeve, which contained a hidden microphone. “The Target’s is en-root.” “Roger that echo three, prepare for pick up and
extraction.” Said the voice in his earphone and the man slowly walked off, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his freshly
shined shoes.
CPR12 looked out the window and watched as the scenery flashed past and watched the rain splatter against the window. “What a horribly wet little
country” he thought thinking of the warm suns and cool breezes of Langley. “So who are you guys? Agency?” he asked quite bored by the silence in
the car. “We’re part of the marine detachment at the embassy sir.” Replied the man. “Ok.” He simply said, as he looked back the scenery, as
it flew past he noticed a small black dot hovering high above them in the distance.
***Several hundred feet up***
Flight lieutenant Michael parker looked aft towards flight sergeant white who was currently looking out of the side hatch with a pair of binoculars at
the ground below, or more specifically one distinct car below. “Sparrow, this is command. What is the target ETA? Over. “ Came the voice from
inside the MOD command. “Command this is sparrow, targets ETA is approximately 10 minutes, over.” He replied changing their course slightly due to
the large number of high buildings and air traffic in the area. “Sparrow, this is command, observe target and inform of any changes out.” Said
command. “Command this is sparrow, order confirmed maintaining position. Out.” He replied while switching his radio off.
***Glasgow**
Daystar thundered down the corridors with UK wizard in close pursuit, dodging what few crewmen where in his path. They burst into the briefing room
and noted that everyone was seated and waiting on the briefer arriving. They quickly took their seats next to Sminkey and devil wasp that were already
sitting down in the third row. “Why didn’t you tell us there was a briefing?” demanded daystar in a hushed voice, directing the question to
Sminkey. “We didn’t know until we seen the board, this thing just sprung up on us,” replied Sminkey who leaned towards daystar to hear and speak
better. “Any idea what its about?” continued daystar now curios. “Don’t know…. maybe has something to do with the major being away?” said
Sminkey thinking aloud. The door to the room suddenly opened and major Swansey walked in carrying the same briefcase he had been issued at chick
sands. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry about my absence.” He apologised as he placed his briefcase onto the metal table in the centre of the
briefing room, he nodded towards a man at the back who was loading the projector. The first slide appeared, showing a satellite image of an airfield
surrounded by trees with one lone road leading up to it.
“This ladies and gents is a BAE research facility in the north of Scotland, 3 days ago a hostile force attacked it, stole all the material and
equipment from the facility. According to air traffic control an aircraft was in the area and did land somewhere nearby, fresh tire marks are on the
runway. Its safe to assume the aircraft wasn’t a civilian one and most likely landed at the facility. A guard managed to raise the alarm and hide a
tape from the security cameras, he like the rest of the personnel where killed.”
The slide moved to show a British army warrior tank outside a hanger with soldiers around one body, a soldier held up the tape from the dead mans
body.
“Ladies and gents because of this event the local forces are on high alert and we’re being reassigned, the MOD is transporting a small project the
RAF have been working on at RAF Leuchars but the RAF high command are concerned about this rogue group so have asked us to come along and escort it
with their regular RAF regiment.” He continued while another slide showed a picture of RAF Leuchars on a map. “The project is being flown to
Glasgow airport by a RAF herc and tornado escorts, then we’ll ride shotgun with it along to Faslane naval base. Be ready and armed at 1100 hours in
the armoury and storage area prepped for a long haul, its only 25 miles but I don’t want to take any chances. Sminkey, you and your crew prep the
lynx for combat. I want all the support I can get out there. Up until 1100 hours, the night is yours. Any questions?” he finished.
Sminkey stood up, “sir, what load out do you want? Heavy, medium or light weapons? Short, medium or long range?” he asked the major. “ Heavy and
medium. I want a mixture of both, just to be safe.” He replied. Sminkey sat down as wizard stood up, still rather messed up, “sir, can we view the
videos of the attack? And also do we have any more information on the enemy?” he asked. “Come and see me afterwards and I’ll give you a copy of
each, that goes for anyone else wanting to see them.” The major replied another man stood up who daystar recognised as Gordon Johnston, the young
SBS corporal on loan from 1 SBS, “sir, who is going to be our back up?” he asked his notebook open and ready. “3 SBS at Faslane will be on
standby and there are a few army regiments in the area that would assist, I’ll get back to you on the specifics.” Replied the major, Johnston face
lit at the mention of SBS, “thank you sir.” He said sitting down, “If there are no more questions, your dismissed, any further questions see me.
Squad leaders organise your teams as you see fit.” He said, he then left through the side hatchway carrying his brief case.
The men and women slowly filed out in small groups, daystar and wizard said goodbye to Sminkey and devilwasp, and then the pair walked off towards
their sleeping area. “Guarding a lonely convoy in the heart of Scotland guarded by a bunch or pongo wannabies sounds lovely don’t it.” , said
daystar as they entered the sleeping area, “almost as fun as that drop we had in Burma, ha!” replied wizard with a laugh. Daystar laughed
remembering the “important and most vital” mission they where sent on in Burma, which ended up with both of them waist high in mud and their
objective being found 40 miles away just outside the main base where the pair had set off. “Well, at least there’s no mosquito’s here…”
commented daystar, “no only these dam migies!” cried wizard as he crushed a “migie” or small biting fly under his hand. “ah well, see you in
the morning” said daystar as he walked off towards to get changed as wizard walked off towards the showers.