Jack Bauer (
out_of_time) wrote in
capeandcowllogs2012-08-01 09:30 pm
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Here We Stand or Here we Fall, History Won't Care at All
WHO: The Dependables
WHERE: Iron Crown, North Pacific.
WHEN: Midnight August 1st [Dolvanian time].
WARNINGS: Absolute mayhem. Also violence.
SUMMARY: The raid on the terrorist gulag.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever works in the threads. Threads are posted for each objective, but the structure within them is completely open.
This year was the tenth anniversary of the terrible plague that had created Zero' Children in their hatred and anger. Within the Iron Crown fortress, it was another grim night. The prisoners moaned and wept within the dark, cold dungeon deep beneath the Earth. Above them, the day shift of their captors slept much more soundly. Outside, the soldiers currently on duty patrolled the ramparts with grim faces behind balaclavas. Searchlights swept the ground around the walls. To the north, below the castle, freezing men did the same on the decks of the big cargo ships that kept this place running.
The attack helicopter's rotors spun on its pad, warming up for night patrol. The armoured personnel carrier lurked in the vehicle depot like a guard dog waiting in a kennel. In the command centre at the top of the gulag's keep, the hardened older men who ran this base shuffled reports back and forth as they coordinated the group's global evildoing, counting narcotics trafficked, dissidents silenced, enemies crushed.
Whether hostage or terrorist, no one in the fortress suspected that they were in the crosshairs of the Dependables.
"We go loud when Seras drops the searchlights," Jack growled. He lowered his binoculars and stood up, machine gun slung across his shoulders. With his helmet, goggles, and black tactical gear, he looked downright sinister. "She'll engage the shooters on the wall while we get inside the base. Get past the wall any way you can, then split up and head for your objectives." It was a long, exposed run from the jumble of icy rocks that were the nearest concealment to the fortress. If they made it without getting shot, they would have to breach the gulag's outer defenses in their own ways: climbing over the wall, blasting a hole, or just old-fashioned trickery. After that, it would be into the maelstrom of the courtyard, the inevitable mayhem of crossfire and explosions.
Jack's own plan involved plastic explosives and the front gate. Once the alarms started to sound, the time for subtlety would be over. He could picture it now- all hell breaking loose with running guards, chattering machine guns, that helicopter lifting into the sky to rain death from above. No matter how much they could accomplish through stealth, he knew the team wouldn’t be getting through this without one hell of a fight.
"Hit your objectives, then push through the base to the far side. We rendezvous at the docks, then get us and the hostages out of there on a ship. Remember the lives of the people depending on you. Move fast, hit hard, stay focused, work together."
There was the click of his safety flipping off, and then there was nothing left to say. “Let’s do this.”
WHERE: Iron Crown, North Pacific.
WHEN: Midnight August 1st [Dolvanian time].
WARNINGS: Absolute mayhem. Also violence.
SUMMARY: The raid on the terrorist gulag.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, whatever works in the threads. Threads are posted for each objective, but the structure within them is completely open.
This year was the tenth anniversary of the terrible plague that had created Zero' Children in their hatred and anger. Within the Iron Crown fortress, it was another grim night. The prisoners moaned and wept within the dark, cold dungeon deep beneath the Earth. Above them, the day shift of their captors slept much more soundly. Outside, the soldiers currently on duty patrolled the ramparts with grim faces behind balaclavas. Searchlights swept the ground around the walls. To the north, below the castle, freezing men did the same on the decks of the big cargo ships that kept this place running.
The attack helicopter's rotors spun on its pad, warming up for night patrol. The armoured personnel carrier lurked in the vehicle depot like a guard dog waiting in a kennel. In the command centre at the top of the gulag's keep, the hardened older men who ran this base shuffled reports back and forth as they coordinated the group's global evildoing, counting narcotics trafficked, dissidents silenced, enemies crushed.
Whether hostage or terrorist, no one in the fortress suspected that they were in the crosshairs of the Dependables.
"We go loud when Seras drops the searchlights," Jack growled. He lowered his binoculars and stood up, machine gun slung across his shoulders. With his helmet, goggles, and black tactical gear, he looked downright sinister. "She'll engage the shooters on the wall while we get inside the base. Get past the wall any way you can, then split up and head for your objectives." It was a long, exposed run from the jumble of icy rocks that were the nearest concealment to the fortress. If they made it without getting shot, they would have to breach the gulag's outer defenses in their own ways: climbing over the wall, blasting a hole, or just old-fashioned trickery. After that, it would be into the maelstrom of the courtyard, the inevitable mayhem of crossfire and explosions.
Jack's own plan involved plastic explosives and the front gate. Once the alarms started to sound, the time for subtlety would be over. He could picture it now- all hell breaking loose with running guards, chattering machine guns, that helicopter lifting into the sky to rain death from above. No matter how much they could accomplish through stealth, he knew the team wouldn’t be getting through this without one hell of a fight.
"Hit your objectives, then push through the base to the far side. We rendezvous at the docks, then get us and the hostages out of there on a ship. Remember the lives of the people depending on you. Move fast, hit hard, stay focused, work together."
There was the click of his safety flipping off, and then there was nothing left to say. “Let’s do this.”
Open
He was making his way slowly but surely down toward the docks, edging along a narrow metal stairway. He would dash a few steps, stop as enemy fire ricocheted around him, aim and fire his rifle, then get moving again as another hostile soldier fell limp below him.
Jack had sniped three enemies so far, but there were a lot more where they came from, clustered around the ship. And it was still a long way down.
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Now that he didn't need to stop and shoot, Jack could really move. He ran down the slippery steps as fast as he dared. Down one flight, turning the corner, down the next, closing in on ground and the docks, and then his brief respite ended.
The rocket's roar was all the warning Jack got before an RPG streaked into the staircase just below him and detonated, blasting stone chunks and shards of metal into the air as its boom echoed over the waters. The stairs started to collapse immediately, the structure falling away from the cliff face, and Jack was still a long way above the ground.
"Damn it!"
Jack ran and jumped before the steps dropped out from beneath him. His upper body landed hard on a freight elevator platform loaded with crates, frozen at the halfway point when the base's power was cut. His legs dangled for a moment, then he pulled the rest of himself up and rolled onto the elevator. He stayed down and pulled out a steel cord from his belt.
"Drop that launcher before he fires again!" He yelled into his radio. Another missile would blast the elevator straight down. "I can't reach more stairs from here, I'm going to have to rappel the rest of the way." With his back exposed to anyone wanting to take a shot at him.
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Racking the bolt she turned her rifle back to the creep who was hurrying to reload the launcher. He wasn't fast enough and the weapon clanged to the deck as its owner's head vanished.
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There was little time to securely fasten the cord. Jack just hooked it onto a handle on the platform and hoped that the metal would hold his weight long enough for him to get down. Then he jumped, paying out the cord in long jumps, bracing his feet against the slippery rock of the cliff in between, the wind tugging at his body and his gear the whole time. It was lousy safety procedure, but he only had to make it work a few seconds longer.
Couldn't resist her slipping up a bit, thanks for rolling with it
Anxiously, she reloaded and kept overwatch while Jack rappelled. Once he hit the ground she'd have to move and get perform her own rappel down the tower and then the cliff he was roping down right now. It was going to be a long time for her to be exposed and she couldn't go too fast because any slip up there and everyone would see it.
Damn it, she really wished she could just say to hell with it and fly!
c:
The sounds of battle filled the air as the Dependables continued raising Hell in the fortress, but no one was shooting at him still. Sniper fire had eliminated or driven away all the dock guards. Jack had no doubt there was a second line of defense waiting in the ship itself though, below decks where snipers couldn't touch them. He would have to face them to seize the team's way out of here.
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Finally hitting the ground she moved to as quick as she could to Jack's rappel point. "Sniper, moving to second rappel." Another minute, or two and she'd be able to catch up to him.
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Though she'd have to make sure to get any of them that shot her, or saw to make sure they couldn't report it later.
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"We'll access the lower decks through the bridge," he said as he rigged the bridge's outer door for breaching. "There should be a way down."
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A sharp banging noise announced the annihilation of the bridge door's lock. Jack kicked open the heavy slab of steel and entered the room with his pistol at the ready.
"Everything's still intact. They didn't have time to smash any of the navigational controls." A stroke of luck. It would be damn hard to steal this tub without a working bridge. The place looked clear, so Jack took point on the stairs down to the lower decks.
Only once he was below and beyond the reach of sniper support did enemy sailors start shooting, popping into the dark, narrow halls and firing behind pipes, their gunshots echoing in the ship's claustrophobic confines.
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Listening carefully she finally heard one of the sailor's pistols lock back, empty. Crouching low she ran around the corner getting the drop on him just as he was finishing his reload. No time to waste and unable to just punch him she unloaded four shots into his chest. As he dropped to his knees she ran past him and to the next corner.
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Jack stood up and found the suitable wheel on the wall to close the valve that would cut off the steam. He gave it three strong, squeaking turns before the hallway was clear. Then he hand-signalled Seras to keep leading the way. Even though she wasn't supposed to use her powers on this mission, the facts remained- she was bulletproof and he wasn't.
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"You're okay, right?" He whispered as he reloaded. It was getting hard to hear down there- the air was full of alert sirens and shouts and clanging echoes. Jack hated fighting in ships.
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He looked around for a safe place to take cover from the blast, but there wasn't really one unless they wanted to backtrack up to the bridge. "We might have to find a way around."
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