War has persisted since the dawn of time. For many centuries, lives have been put on the line for ideals, resources, or human emotion. For some, war was just another way to make a living. Or a second chance. Reasoning varies from soldier to soldier.... It is 2015. The Middle East formed it prized caliphate but quickly was stomped after threatening the world. Sadly, the citizens of the would be liberators' citizen protested and now occupation is being handed over to PMC and security contractors around the world. Korvuis Trans-Global Security Solutions was put in charge of the Zargabad region near the Iraq-Iran border, an area rife with guerrilla activity. To kick off a long string operations in the area, Operation: Interdiction is put into effect. Several teams of contractors are on their way to meet a UN inspector, as part of the operation. The heat of desert does little to slow down their convoy of SUVs. "... And if you look to left, you'll see more dirt... Hey, are you guys alive back?" hollered the Security Detail Leader over the radio. "Jesus, I know this is a long drive to a place where everyone hates us but not talking makes this trip even more unbearable." A shuffling is heard over the radio. "We all at least know what the objective of this mission is, right?"
"Kill anyone who shoots at us. Try not to get killed in the process." Jericho Argent, known to his comrades as Jack, yawned. "Same sh-t, different day." Jack didn't feel like admitting that he'd napped during the briefing. It wasn't his fault, really. Between the old Soviet cargo plane that had barely made it to the airfield, the U.N. checkpoints, and the food poisoning from what he suspected was fried goat, he hadn't slept in just over seventy-two hours.
Diego Farias, otherwise known to his comrades and victims as Disciple, just nodded in response. He didn't really talk much, and the only times he ever did is when it related to the operation or getting people to shut up. It wasn't that he was mute or anything, he just didn't like talking unless he needed to. And as a result, he was not very good at making friends. However, as quiet as he may seem, Diego was a very scary man to be with. Before he joined the PMC twenty of years ago, he was a vigilante who murdered gang members and murderers for his own intentions. Over the years, some thought about the reason why. Was his loved ones killed? Did something happen to him? Or did he just do it for fun? Nobody but him knew the real answer. The bigger question was, why the hell did they enlist a complete sociopath in the first place? And how did they find him?
"Well, not quite..." The Detail Leader cleared his throat before speaking. "Alright, Korvuis Trans-Global Security Solutions has accepted the contract to stage operations in the Zargabad, Iraq area for the French Republic. No surprise there. Anywho, skipping all the formalities and signatures, we're here to protect a UN weapons inspector for about half a week, then sit on our hands in some military villa in the north, used to be own by one of the top Iraqi generals before the UN swooped in. "Terrain is expected to vary from a somewhat urban valley to mountainous around here so I hope you can adjust to altitude change. That's not the scary part though, whole area is spectated to be crawling with OpFor, varying from simple rebels to splinter groups of the Caliphate. Most are going to blend in with civilian populace so check your fire. "Remember folks, we're a PMC. As outlined in the Geneva Conventions and the 2006 American Military Commissions Act, we're not allowed to take offensive operations. So unless we're being fired at by it, we can't do anything. If you see anything out of the ordinary, call it in. American militaryforces are only about 100 miles or so from every direction. We clear?"
Diego nodded once more after listening to the briefing. He excelled in urban combat, almost outperform actually. Although, he isn't as skilled in mountainous terrain. He'd rather dance from building to building, gutting rebels with his Bowie Knife. If one rebel happened to take a shot at him, it's their funeral.
Jack yawned again. He was familiar with the area. During the war, Korvuis had been one of the companies contracted to train the new Iraqi police forces. "Got it. Babysit some pencil-pusher for a few days, then we all get a vacation. Nice and simple."
Pierce beat some sweat off his brow. The heat was blistering, and his red hair and pale skin didn't exactly help either. He held down a button on his collar, turning on his radio. "Somehow I think it's not going to be that easy." His tour of duty in Iraq as a combat engineer familiarized him with the area. You couldn't expect things to go as planned here. There were too many militants looking to throw a wrench in the plans of PMCs for anything to go right.
"You're right, increased activity in the area. None near the airfield where we're heading as of yet, thank God. Monk is there waiting on us. When we get there, fan out and patrol the area. We don't want any incidents when the inspector's helicopter arrives..." Almost on cue, the SUV go over a hill to see a small air field with two tiny hangers and small control tower come into view. "There it is, 'Zargabad International'. Stay frosty, it's the Wild West out here." The leader says as the convoy pulls in and up on to the landing strip.
Jack gave his rifle an affectionate pat, and climbed out of the SUV. "They didn't have toys like this in the Wild West." He made a beeline for the control tower. The tallest structure around, it would provide a good vantage point to watch for enemy patrols. The only downside was that it was completely unprotected from attack, which would leave him a sitting duck if the rebels had an RPG.
Pierce stepped out of the SUV and got into the shade of the second hanger. He took out his Javelin and mounted it on a bipod. You never knew when there would be armored vehicles.
The detail lead stepped out of the lead SUV before looking around. "Monk? You alive out there?" he hollered over the radio as he patrolled along the airstrip. "Hey, anyone got a visual of Mon-..." he started before stopping mid-sentence. Shots cracked through the air as he began running back to the convoy. "AW ****, CONTACT, CONTACT, EAST SIDE, REBEL FIRETE-PLATOON! CLEAR TO ENGAGE!" he yelled as he sprinted for his life. Behind, like a scene from a movie, a large group of rebels rushed onto the strip behind, all loaded for a full on assault and taking potshots at the lead.
"Don't worry comrades, I got your backs" Shots were heard from afar, as the rebels came down one by one until they realized a sniper was there and went down to cover. "Your turn to play my friends." As he said that he stoped shooting.
"Son of a..." The sound of gunfire spurred Jack into action. Grabbing the ragged office chair from the controller's desk, he flung it through the plate glass window that faced the attackers. He ran to the shattered window and raised his rifle, flicking the switch for three-round bursts. His first burst struck a rebel in the chest. He was not wearing armor, and went down like a sack of potatoes. The next burst caught its target in the head, nearly decapitating him. Three bursts bursts followed, and three more rebels went down before they caught on and returned fire at the tower. Jack threw himself to the floor as a dozen AK-47s turned the inside of the control tower into a tempest of broken glass and hot lead.
Diego jumped into life when a high caliber bullet missed him, causing a huge hole in the hanger door behind him. He took his Tavok and swung it around him, before it landed in his arms and took aim. He fired a single round into the heart of an unarmored rebel that sent him to the ground like a ton of bricks. With a quick burst to follow afterwards, he shot down five rebels who were running through their entry point.
As their numbers thinned, a couple more squads hurried to reenforce the assault with two heavily armored trucks bringing up the rear. The turrets on the trucks opened fire on the control tower and the convoy, peppering the building with heavy rounds. Suddenly, several muzzle flashes could be seen coming from inside one of the trucks. It's gunner dropped down into it and the driver slowly slumped out. Another figure hopped out from the passenger and began taking shots at the assaulting rebels. "Monk here," chimeda voice over the radio. "I've been trying to hunt these men all morning. We need to take out that other armored truck before the inspector arrives!"
"On it!" Pierce looked through the display on his Javelin, and directed the launcher to the armored truck. There was a diamond shape, indicating a lock around the truck, and he fires. There was a brief whistling sound as the rocket propelled itself towards the truck. It hit, and after a brief explosion, the truck was gone.
Diego moved about from place to place as the last group of rebels came to attack him, all of which were quickly cut down to size. With a single clip of ammunition and five seconds later, seven rebels were dead in front of him. He took out his Bowie Knife and stabbed one final rebel in the top of his spine, carving it downwards amongst his back while Diego used his spare hand to cover the screams being made. With the rebels back literally being torn into two, he allowed the rebel to drop dead as he slumped to the ground. Diego then flicked the blood of his knife before putting it in its holster. Once done, he went back to the rest of the group.
Jack had managed to make it out of the tower in time to help finish off the last of the rebels. When he was sure they were all dead, he joined the team on the runway. "We done?" He looked at the bodies that littered the area, and sighed. "Let's get these a-holes outta sight before the package arrives. These bureaucrat types tend to be a little... squeamish." He grabbed the nearest body by the leg and dragged it into the hanger. "We should get some pictures back to HQ. See if they can't identify who these guys are, and where they came from. If their leaders are willing to send so many men on a suicide attack, they must have a lot of soldiers."
"If you are planning that, you should make it quickly, antoher group of rebels is coming from the east. ETA 5 minutes my friends." Viktor said from his radio. "I'll see if I can slow them down. Call me when the package arrive, we will meet soon."
