[ARC ONE - BEGIN]

Chapter 1 - AWAITING FURTHER NOTICE

LANGLEY, FAIRFAX COUNTY

You wake up on your couch to the a sensation of a thousand needles pierced into your brain all at once. When you grasped the scalp of your head to ease the pain, you feel as if your skull had hardened to a brick.

On the table before you was seven cans of cheap beer lying about, which you gathered to be the source of your intense headache. Nevertheless, it feels as if it was your routine to get up and go to the bathroom to wash your face with some cold water.

After you tossed away the blanket and rose up from the cozy couch you slept on, you attempted to navigate through the small living room but the headache made you move slow as you bump to everything that's in front of you. Eventually, you bumped onto a desk with a framed photo and a pair of artificial plants.

What do you do?

>Inspect photo
>Keep going to the bathroom

>>5687020
>Keep going to the bathroom

>>5687020
>>Inspect photo

You lifted up the photo at arms length. Your vision is blurry, so you squinted your eyes at the photo to make out what's in it.

The photo depicted you and your fiance, standing with his group of friends at an airbase somewhere in Afghanistan. You were just an Army soldier back then, and you were an oddball among his friends as you were the only soldier he befriended while the rest of his friends were "government contractors". Nevertheless, you enjoyed being in their company, and it was a simpler time back then.

Unfortunately, your fiance died in Afghanistan back in 2009 at the hands of a Taliban commander who claimed to be an informant for the CIA. That same commander killed himself detonating a suicide vest within an American base, taking the lives of other people just like your fiance. His fate and the circumstances surrounding it hasn't been kind to you, but he was gone and nothing could ever change that.

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You set down the framed photo back on the table and made your way for the bathroom before flicking its lights on. Here, before you, was a mirror smudged by water spots, a dirty vessel sink, and an assortment of toiletries. You took a good look of yourself through the mirror.

"You look like shit," You muttered to yourself, and you weren't wrong for it. Your lower eyelids had mildly swelled into bags, your hair was all messy. You need to go to a salon sometime.

You turned the faucet on and leaned forward to the sink, cupping your hands for the water streaming from your faucet. You then tossed the water onto your face, letting it spill back to the sink.

You leaned back up and looked at yourself again. Nothing changed. Perhaps it is just the way you are. One thing bugged you though.. just who are you again?

>[Write-in]

>>5687046
Evelyn

>>5687046
>Kate Marsh

>>5687046
>Carla Brandão
Were there other women in our team ?

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"Marsh," You said. "That's right, Kate Marsh. How could have I just remembered that now?"

You are Kate Marsh, an ex-Green Berets operator-turned-CIA-employed analyst. For the last few months, you've been working on a case against one particular individual that have recently popped up in the CIA's 'persons-of-interest' list, both tirelessly and alone. This individual is 'Mathilde Hansa', who is—from the limited information you could gather—an arms dealer who have had several clients that span across the globe.

You have brought up the issue of Mathilde and the potential threat she could pose to the United States and her allies to your superiors multiple times. However, you've had little luck in convincing your superiors to act upon the information you have gathered as it was very sparse. As a result, your superiors have advised you to 'stop focusing on ghosts" and have dismissed you to a two-weeks leave with pay.

You shook your head before slapping both of your hands into your cheeks. Maybe that was because you are drunk, but even if you were drunk, your name should have been the first thing that comes to mind. Maybe you're slipping? That notion frightened you enough, so much so that you just decided to move on from the thought entirely.

You walked out of the bathroom after shutting its lights off, feeling much more refreshed and sober, although the taste of stale alcohol still lingers at the tip of your tongue and your body felt rather weak. You returned to the couch in your living room and subsequently went to lie down to get more sleep.

Dundundun, dudududun dun..

Right as you were about to close your eyes, you suddenly hear an orchestral piece faintly playing. It was The Ride of the Valkyries, by Wagner. It was your phone's ringtone; someone is calling you. You reached for it as it was right beside you, on the table. On the screen, was the word "LANGLEY".

Should you pick it up?

>Yes
>No

>>5687057
//not yet im afraid

>>5687060
>Yes

Leave or not, this is what we want, assuming they are calling because something happened.

>>5687060
>>Yes

You swiped the green button on the screen upwards and held your phone next to your ear.

"Kate? I've been calling you for a while," A man speaks from the other end your phone, followed by a labored breathing soon after. It's Caseman, one of the higher-ups you have been talking to.

Out of all your superiors, Caseman was the most interesting. He was the most understanding when compared to the rest, and he seems to have taken your concerns seriously. People in the office call him a lot of things, like Bookman, either because of his smarts or his vast book collection on the shelves of his office, or Fatman, because of his stocky build. Last but not least, within the SAC, he often goes by Caseman, because of his excellence at agent handling in the past. He is rarely, if ever, referred to by his real name however. Other than that, there is not much you know about him.

"We need to talk about something, it's urgent. Remember what you told me a few days ago?" Caseman continues. He sounds troubled, you knew that much. What troubles him though, is unknown to you.

"Hey, Jessica! You okay?" You realize you haven't spoken a word to him ever since you picked up your phone, so you hastily came up with answer to put him at ease.

"Yeah. I'm all good here. Just had a little.. too much water? And a migraine." You followed up your answer with a nervous chuckle.

"You sure? I really need you to come here, my office. I can send a driver if you can't get here."

How will you respond to his offer?

>[Yeah, sure, I'll be waiting.]
>[It's fine, I can drive.]

>>5687079
>>[It's fine, I can drive.]
We need some time to make ourself look presentable

>>5687079
>[It's fine, I can drive.]

>>5687079
>[It's fine, I can drive.]
Not the first time

>>5687079
>>[It's fine, I can drive.]

>>5687079
>>[It's fine, I can drive.]

>>5687079
>[It's fine, I can drive.]

"You sure?" Caseman didn't seem to trust your decision, especially with the comment you just made. Nevertheless, he backs down without much of a fight. "I'll see you in my office soon then."

Caseman hangs up the call. Just what did he want to talk about Mathilde Hansa? What did he know concerning her? It all seemed important.

With haste, you began to gather up anything that you had in your house related to your investigation of Mathilde Hansa as well as some personal effects and began packing them full into your backpack before walking your way to the garage.

You approached your car, a 2005 Lexus ES 330 sitting outside your house on an open garage. It's an old darling that have stayed with you for years, but it was a trusty one at that. You opened its door and placed your backpack on the shotgun seat as you embarked inside. You placed the key into the slot and twisted it to the right, starting your car before driving the vehicle out of the garage and setting off for the George Bush Center for Intelligence, the headquarters of the CIA.

[...]

As it was the after hours, you were driving all by your lonesome on the road, with very little traffic. Wanting to have something accompany you on the way to the HQ, you've decided to turn on the car radio and listened to whatever was airing at the time. Even though you didn't really pay attention to the radio, the music they played was nice enough to the point where it distracted you from your headache. The music would then transition to a brief news segment covering a recently missing person.

"A British artificial intelligence research laboratory has revealed that its lead systems engineer have gone missing. Digital Persipacity hasn't been able to contact Ingrid Thameson for several days, causing worry and panic amid its executive board. Ingrid Thameson is a lead machine-learning engineer at Digital Persipacity and is hired into the company after graduating from the University of Cambridge, majoring in computer science.."

Before long, the news segment from your car radio became a blur, a white noise just like the music you listened did. You eventually arrive at the gates of the CIA headquarters sooner than expected. Here, you are to undergo a few several security procedures before you could even enter the building. Two security guards armed with assault rifles and an explosives-detection dog then approached your car, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. It's the standard operating procedure after all.

One guard knocked on your window and asked you for your papers, which you obliged to, while the other held the dog on a tight leash as it sniffed your car while he shined a flashlight through your vehicle. After a few seconds of inspection, the guard hands back your papers and bid you a good evening before returning to his post and raising the gate.

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You proceeded to the parking lot. Despite you going to the HQ at midnight, the parking lot was just as occupied as it was during the day. The CIA never sleeps, and catching bad guys is serious work.

After parking your car in a vacant spot, you disembarked out of your vehicle with your backpack and headed to Caseman's office in the CTC building. Along the way, you passed through some regular offices, bustling with activity as usual. You then finally made your way to the office and knocked on Caseman's door.

"Come in," Caseman responds.

You twisted the door knob and pushed it forward, setting foot in his room before closing it gently. Caseman could already pick up the scent that exudes from you.

"You reek of alcohol, Marsh, and you look like shit too." He sternly rebukes. Caseman might be the nicest of all your superiors, but he is not without bark or bite.

>[Yeah, I figured you might say that, sir.]
>[I thought I was on a clock here.]

//my bad guys, was in the middle of something

>>5687194
>[Yeah, I figured you might say that, sir.]

>>5687194
>>[Yeah, I figured you might say that, sir.]

>>5687194
>[Yeah, I figured you might say that, sir.]

>>5687194
>>[I thought I was on a clock here.]

"Yeah, I figured you might say that, sir." You answer to Caseman's remark with a sarcastic tone, "But with all due respect sir, why am I here?"

Caseman rises up from his black office chair, picking up a remote in the process and pointed it towards a television attached to a wall on the side of the office. With the press of a button, the screen snapped to life, displaying an image of someone you're unfamiliar with. The image was a screenshot from a CCTV recording depicting a man in a pilot suit walking down a hallway. Due to the poor quality of the camera, you weren't able to exactly distinguish his facial features, but you were able to tell he had a grizzled appearance.

"Two days ago, the Polish Air Force declared an Mi-8 stationed in the Zamość Military Airbase to be missing. That same Mi-8 was carrying about a dozen NLAW anti-tank missile systems that is to be donated to the Ukrainian military this spring. We have a reason to believe this individual here is related to the 'White Swan' or rather, Mathilde Hansa."

Caseman presses another button on the remote, changing the image from the CCTV capture to a close photograph of the 'pilot' conversing with Mathilde.

"The Directorate of Operations have received intelligence from the Ukrainian security service that a Russian militia commander operating in Dnipropetrovsk has an appointment scheduled with the White Swan, and I want to appoint someone to lead a SOG team deep behind enemy lines to prevent those NLAWs from reaching the enemy's hands.. which leads me to you."

Caseman returns to his seat and withdraws from his desk drawer a folder containing your dossier.

"I read your file here that you were with the Green Berets in 2010, with your last deployment being Syria in 2018. So you definitely have some experience being in the field, but I'd like to hear you say it. Are you willing to volunteer for this op?"

>[I'm just an analyst, sir.]
>[I've been chasing her on my own for months now. I'm qualified.]

>>5687260
>[I'm just an analyst, sir.]

>>5687260
>>[I'm just an analyst, sir.]

>>5687260
>[I'm just an analyst, sir.]

>>5687260
>>[I've been chasing her on my own for months now. I'm qualified.]

>>5687260
>>[I've been chasing her on my own for months now. I'm qualified.]

>>5687260
>[I've been chasing her on my own for months now. I'm qualified.]

It seems out of character for us to be humble here when we've been obsessing over this Koko-alike for the past however long. That being said...

>"Why not pass the info onto the Ukrainians and let them handle it? Going hard like this could backfire if we get caught. I thought it was one of Russia's real red lines that we not participate in any kinetic fashion? Lot of risk for some NLAWs, shouldn't our focus be on 'White Swan' herself?"

>>5687260
Also, QM, Google tells me women weren't allowed into the Green Berets until 2013. This just a mistake or are we really in some alternate universe precursor to Jormungandr?

>>5687260
>[I've been chasing her on my own for months now. I'm qualified.]

>>5687348
//shhh trust me bro

>>5687354
the latter

"I've been chasing this albino-looking bitch on my own for months now, sir. If there's anyone qualified to bring her in, it'll be me." You answered Caseman's question with full determination, much to his amusement.

"Hahahaha, good! Then I want you to get ready to leave for Langley Air Force Base. There's a private jet headed to Ramstein that is set to take off by dawn. You'll meet your SOG unit there. It's a prepped team, good plan. All they need to do now is figure out where you could fit in. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." You gave Caseman an affirming nod before leaving his office, but before you could close the door, he calls upon you one more time. "Do me a favor and take a shower first, yeah?"

[...]

LANGLEY AIR FORCE BASE

After a lengthy three hour drive from the HQ to the AFB, you exited your vehicle and immediately headed for the warehouse where the SOG unit you were assigned to have been using as their quarters, where you were then greeted by four men in plain clothes, already in the middle of a mission briefing.

"Kate Marsh, isn't it?" The man standing at the front of the room sights you and comes forward to offer you a handshake, which you reciprocated him with. "Let me introduce you to the crew you'll be working with." He says and before walking you over to the 'stage' of the briefing.

First up is 'Axe', the leader of the SOG team for this op. He seems to be in his late '40s, has a well-groomed mustache and a pair of Oakley sunglasses tucked on the collar of his white shirt, making him look like an '80s crime drama television protagonist come to life.

Next is 'Vic', the demolitions expert of the team. He is of Afro-Latin descent and his most defining characteristic is his pristine white teeth that seems to brighten the whole world up whenever he smiles wide. He also gives off the impression of someone who would laugh whenever he is given the opportunity to clack off several C4 charges all at once. Probably not someone you would want to do wrong by.

Then there is 'Clown', the automatic rifleman. He surely lives up to his nickname, as he is the one often heard cracking jokes the most amongst the team. He is also assigned with the SAW, which makes him someone you can definitely rely on when shit hits the fan.

And finally, there is 'Rook. Axe describes him only as the team's marksman, that he is quiet, and nothing else after that, which might mean he is a relatively recent addition to the team, like you. Judging by his appearance, he seems to be a fresh CIA/SAC recruit, as he is in his late-twenties as opposed to the rest of the team who are either in their mid-thirties or older. He is clean-shaven and lacked any significant marks that stood out. (i.e. scars or tattoos)

"It's not everyday we get a girl in our team, not that we ever did anyway." Clown interjects, just shortly after Axe finishes the team's introduction, to which he simply chuckles in response.

>[I don't think it'd be an obstacle.]
>{-Ignore-]
>[Write-in]

>>5687682
>[I don't think it'd be an obstacle.]

//Fuck, looks like there's some slight errors on the my latest post. Can't do anything about that. ESL moment

>>5687682
>{-Ignore-]

>>5687682
>>[Write-in]
Show off our skillz

>>5687682
>"Won't be an issue."

>>5687682
>>[I don't think it'd be an obstacle.]

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https://vocaroo.com/1cezEwRGrvdh
---

"It won't be an issue." You steely retorted Clown's remark, sending the room to a deafening silence. Clown meanwhile simply sat there, smiling at you with an expression that reads 'I like this lady'.

"Right," Axe clears up his throat as an attempt to wipe away the any air of awkwardness in the room before walking towards a monitor located on a desk near the whiteboard to operate the projector. "Marsh, if you may." He beckons you to take a seat near Castle, to which you heeded.

"Let's get this briefing moving, shall we?"

The Dnipro Vostok Plant is a Cold War-era rocket manufacturing facility that ceased operations shortly after the fall of Soviet Union. According to Russian communique intercepted by the Security Service of Ukraine, the Dnipro Rocket Plant has been repurposed into a highly fortified forward operating base in use by Russian-backed separatist battalion located 30 miles behind the Russian frontline. In that same communique, it is revealed that a high-profile Russian proxy commander named Valeriy Grishanov (callsign 'Brown Bear') is present in the area. The Brown Bear has been responsible for many of Russia's greatest victories in the Dnipro front. His death will greatly benefit the Ukrainian war effort.

Because of the base's high-level of security detail, the SOG unit will utilize Russian-manufactured equipment and identification to blend in with the separatist troops in the facility, and an armored black van with Z-markings for entry. Once inside, the unit will split up into two teams: Watcher and Snatcher teams.

Watcher Team will take up an overwatch position on one of the rooftops and provide Snatcher team with cover fire and eliminate the White Swan but only as a last resort. Meanwhile, the Snatcher Team will remain boots on the ground to handle the NLAW's demolition and the capture of Mathilde Hansa.

Several SBU agents have volunteered to assist you with the exfiltration out of the city of Dnipropetrovsk. They will be positioned in one of the abandoned buildings in the gray zone of the Dnipro area, but do not expect any heavy assistance from the Ukrainians. Their troops are stretched thin all along the frontlines.

The use of HIMARS rocket systems to strike the area have also been ruled out, as ammunition for said vehicles won't arrive until winter later in the year, and the capture of Mathilde Hansa is preferable to her death.

Your objectives are to:
>Eliminate "Brown Bear"
>Capture/Kill "White Swan"
>Destroy the NLAWs

"Castle, you'll be on the Watcher Team, Vic and Clown will fill in for Snatcher. And as for our guest of honor, the choice is yours. Which team would you like to partake in?"

>Watcher Team
>Snatcher Team

>>5687779
>>Snatcher Team

>>5687779
>>Snatcher Team

>>5687779
>>Snatcher Team

>>5687779
>Snatcher Team

//My bad guys, just woke up. Sorry if I kept any of ya waiting.

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"Snatcher Team. I want to be there personally when we bag her."

"That does it then. Looks like Ms. Marsh here have her eyes on the prize already." Axe pulls the plug on the projector cable, concluding the mission briefing. "Castle and I will take Watcher then. You guys got any questions before we depart?"

"Uh yeah," Clown says as he raises his hand, "Who gets to keep the albino chick?" He predictably asks with a sarcastic tone, lightening up the mood in the room once more as the SOG team laughed at his comment save for you and Castle.

"Alright, we're wheels up in an hour. Dismissed."

[...]

---
https://voca.ro/1n0utqFi5FE1
---

Chapter 2 - FALSE FLAG

DNIPRO ROCKET PLANT, RUSSIAN-OCCUPIED UKRAINE

Your brief sleep on the ride to the plant was interrupted when the van you're currently traveling in suddenly hits a speed bump. On the driver's seat was Castle with Axe riding shotgun, while you were on the back, with the rest of the SOG team. When you looked down to the floor, it was littered with boxes of ammunition, food packaging and other kinds of trash.

In front of you was Vic who can be seen putting on a balaclava and a helmet, a set up that covers the color of his skin, before grabbing a roll of white tape and wrapping it around his upper arm. He then offered you the roll, which you took and wore it the same way Vic did before handing it to Clown, who sat next to you. You inspected your equipment and your weapon to make sure everything is functional.

As you had to blend in with the Russians for this operation, the equipment provided by the Ukrainians were mostly sourced from Eastern Europe. Your primary weapon is the AKS-74U, a short-barreled carbine variant of the AK-74. It was pre-fitted with Zenitco furnitures, an Aimpoint Micro T1 and a flashlight. While some parts of the gear that were given to you had Russian identification marks such as morale patches and St. George ribbons, your team were issued masks with skull-motifs as a friendly identification visibility to prevent blue-on-blue accidents.

"We're almost here, guys." Axe utters to the team at the back.

Clown then gives you a tap on your shoulder. "Hey lady, how's your Russian?"

>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]
>["I never spoke Russian."]
>[Write-in]

>>5688100
>["I never spoke Russian."]

>>5688100
>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]

>>5688100
>>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]

>>5688100
>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]
lmao

>>5688100
>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]

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//Just noticed I wrote Rook for Castle's introduction, fuck. My bad, that was a name for the early draft of his character

Will continue writing soon once I'm done with RE8.

>>5688100
>["Этo нe тaк yж плoхo."]

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"Этo нe тaк yж плoхo." You fluently replied in Russian nonchalantly, managing to impress Clown.

"Lady, do I look like I know what that means? Shit, looks like I'm the only one who can't speak a damn word of Russian." Clown grumbles.

"Maybe you should've taken that linguistics class six months ago, Clown." Vic counters Clown's complaint, with Castle nodding in agreement.

[...]

As the SOG van is nearing the plant, its occupants could see it coming into view from a distance. They would eventually come across a forward security checkpoint blocking the entrance point of the factory with roadblocks.

"Get your game faces ready boys! It's showtime." Axe yells as the van is approaching the checkpoint. He pulls down his balaclava and lowers the window down moments before the van comes to a screeching halt. A guard, sitting on a folded chair while chatting with his friend, rises on his feet and strolls over in Axe's direction while his friend stayed behind, standing guard with his finger inches away from the trigger of his AK-74M. The two then began to converse in Russian.

"Mы нe oжидaли вoзвpaщeния вoйcк в этoт чac."
"Mы - дoпoлнитeльнoe пoдкpeплeниe. Кoмaндoвaниe oтпpaвилo нac cюдa в пocлeднюю ceкyндy, чтoбы пoмoчь c oхpaнoй нa cлyчaй, ecли cдeлкa copвeтcя."
"Гдe твoи дoкyмeнты?"

Axe turns away from the guard to open the glovebox and withdraws a stack of counterfeit IDs given to the SOG team before handing them over. The guard then inspects every single ID cautiously before breaking into laughter the moment he inspected yours.

"У вac в oтpядe ecть дeвyшкa? Oнa выглядит cимпaтичнo. Пoчeмy бы вaм нe paзpeшить нaм кaк-нибyдь взять ee?" The guard giggles as he returned the IDs to Axe before walking away to move the roadblocks with his friend, giving the SOG team entrance to the rocket plant.

"Fucking barbarians." Axe mutters under his breath as he rolled the window up before ordering Castle drive the van inside.

[...]

Castle parks the van inside a warehouse located a few meters away from the arranged meeting location, which was an open railyard field at the eastern side of the plant. Its occupants stepped off from the vehicle with Axe gathering the team for a short recap of the tasks given.

"Alright team, we're on foot from here on out. You know the play. Watcher will take up a sniper position on a tower overlooking the field and scope out area, get our eyes on the White Swan. Snatcher will handle the baggage and will not move from this warehouse until the team receives the word. We kill the Bear, destroy the NLAWs, grab the White Swan and everyone gets to go home all-merry and shit. Clear?"

"Clear." The team replied in unison.

"Okay. Castle, with me. Let's move it." Axe says to Castle and the two parted ways from the rest of the team to their assigned position.

"Well, Her Majesty. Looks like you're stuck with us now." A condescending smile forms on Clown's lips as he gives you a pat on your shoulder. Having fed up with his patronizing attitude, you curled your hand into a fist. Noticing that you were becoming visibly irritated, Vic was compelled to step in and shoved him away from you.

"Hands off, Clown."

"What for? The hell did I do?"

"Just leave her alone, man."

"Okay, chill, amigo. Damn.."

After dismissing Clown, Vic shifted his attention to you, seemingly to be genuinely concerned. "You good, Kate?"

>["It was nothing I can't handle."]
>["He sounds pleasant."]
>[Write-in]

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5688551
I can't really decide on this one, so I'll let the dice do it for me.
>1. ["It was nothing I can't handle."]
>2. ["He sounds pleasant."]

>>5688551
>>["He sounds pleasant."]

>>5688551
>>["It was nothing I can't handle."]

>>5688100
>["I don't speak Russian, but if on the incredibly off chance we need someone to speak Farsi or German on this mission I'm your gal."]

>>5688551
>["He sounds pleasant."]

>>5688674
This is what I get for stepping away for hours and then not refreshing...

>>5688551
>>["He sounds pleasant."]

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"He sounds pleasant."

"Clown? Don't worry about him, he does that with any new additions to the team. Even poor Castle went through the same ball-busting all the same. Though I must say, he does warm up over you fast.." Vic scoffs, "..in case you haven't noticed. Anyway, get comfortable. Looks like we'll be staying here until Axe hails us."

[...]

A hour had passed. While you were enjoying your energy bar in the middle of a guard duty, your radio suddenly crackled to life, followed by a male voice speaking out of your earpiece. It was Axe who, along with Castle, have taken up their position on the platform of a chimney tower.

"Snatcher Team, come in."

"Snatcher-1 to Watcher, we read you loud and clear, over." Vic replies.

"We're picking up activity on the north end of the railyard. We're counting three BTRs and a GAZ truck, possibly the Brown Bear. Stay sharp boys, the White Swan may arrive any minute now. Out."

As soon as the radio chatter between Axe and Vic concluded, you pocketed what's left of your energy bar into an empty pouch and instinctively emulated your teammates who began taking up defensive emplacements around the warehouse, with you guarding the entrace of the warehouse while your presence was obscured by the shadows, resulted by the lack of illumination in the structure.

You would feel the ground trembling beneath the sole of your boots and soon enough, the aforementioned BTRs and GAZ Tigr belonging to the commander would emerge out from a tunnel and into the open railyard. Each BTR then pulled up, forming a perimeter around the commander, and lowered its rear hatches, resulting in a drove of Russian militants jumping out from each vehicle to reinforce that said perimeter.

>["That's a lot of firepower."]
>["Looks like someone's paranoid."]
>[Write-in]

>>5688908
>["That's a lot of firepower."]

>>5688908
>["That's a lot of firepower."]

>>5688674
//Would've used that if I had the chance. Wicked..

>>5688908
>>["That's a lot of firepower."]

>>5688908
>["That's a lot of firepower."]

Will we get weapons that are STRICTLY HIGH GRADE?

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"That's a lot of firepower."

"Yeah, well, you could never be too cautious." Vic says in response.

Once the Russian troops had taken their positions around the perimeter, the doors of the GAZ Tigr opens. Exiting the vehicle was a man dressed in an EMR Flora jacket and a Soviet-era uniform bearing the old three-color woodland camouflage in a shabby condition with a blue-striped telnyashka beneath it. It's him, the Russian commander Valeriy Grishanov. From the vexed look of his face, he didn't seem all too happy with the prospect of this meeting. You wonder why..

"Watcher to Snatcher, we have a PID on the Brown Bear. We're also picking up more movement, this time on the south end of the railyard. Stand by."

A convoy of SUV's enter the scene. Three of these SUV's were white early-2010 Toyota Hiluxes while one at the rear end of the convoy was a Mercedes G-Wagen. This convoy was then followed by a medium-sized truck, colored in white and its container bereft of markings or imagery of any kind. One by one, these vehicles came to a stop. They were clearly placed in a way that would make them decent covers in case the deal went south.

Not long afterwards, you started counting eleven military aged males and one female exiting their vehicles. All of them were armed, wearing plain clothes and were clad with a mixture of both Eastern and Western-manufactured equipment, save for one male who seemed like a civilian; donning only a black baseball cap, a polo shirt and a belt around his jeans with a radio clasped onto it. However, Mathilde is nowhere to be seen..

You placed your hand on the shoulder mic of your radio and depressed the Push-To-Talk button...

>["No viscon on White Swan."]
>["Does anyone have eyes on the White Swan?"]
>[Write-in]

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>>5689466
//Never. You will run Soviet-era AKs for the entire duration of the qst and you will be happy!

>>5689842
>["No viscon on White Swan."]

>>5689842
>>["No viscon on White Swan."]

>>5689842
>["No vision on White Swan."]

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"Watcher, I'm counting ten armed males, one unarmed and one armed female. No visual confirmation on White Swan." You whispered into the mic. Your radio then crackled again, followed by a soft-spoken voice coming through from the other end of the comm. It's Castle, unmistakably so as you've heard no one in your team talk like this until now.

"Roger, Snatcher-3. White Swan may still be in a vehicle. Hold up, we have incoming on the G-Wagen."

Your radio turns to static shortly after. You glanced over to the G-Wagen and saw its passenger door opening. A girl stepped off from the vehicle, bearing a pale complexion and a somewhat lengthy white hair that reaches down to her back as she rocks a white trench coat and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses, making this girl stand out in the field. There is no mistaking about it. She is Mathilde Hansa.

After Mathilde disembarked from the G-Wagen, you watched her stride forward to the Russian commander with her hands in the pockets of her coat. Accompanying her by her side was the unarmed member of Mathilde's unit who didn't seem to really belong there—judging by his timid behavior as well as his thin appearance—leading you to believe that he may very well be a civilian; an accountant perhaps.

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[...]

"Дoбpый вeчep!" Mathilde gleefully greets the Russian commander while waving at him with her leather-gloved hand.

"Tы, блядь, oпoздaл. Mы дoлжны были cдeлaть этo двa чaca нaзaд!" Grishanov responds by shouting back in anger towards Mathilde.

"Mнe тaк жaль, кoмaндиp! Дopoжнaя пpoбкa, вы знaeтe, кaк этo бывaeт!" Mathilde attempts to calm down the irritated commander with humor, to no effect. She then shrugs as she takes off her pair of leather gloves before handing them to the accountant who stood beside her.

"You're no fun, huh.." She utters, now in English.

"Let's get to business already, Ms. Hansa. I have the money, you have the weapons. I'd like to see them now."

"Please, Commander. There's no sense in rushing things. It's not like we're watched by any.. outside third parties, right?" Mathilde glances over in the direction of the warehouse, as if she was sensing something suspicious sheltering inside.

"What are you saying, Ms. Hansa?"

"Nothing," Mathilde turns back to the commander, "I'm just fucking with you." She lightly giggles.

Grishanov groans in contempt upon the woman before him. Mathilde signals her guards to bring a weapon she's offering for sale out of the truck. A guard then carried out a single case of NLAW off from the vehicle and placed it between Mathilde and Grishanov, with the latter ordering one of his men to inspect the case before he could hand over the money to Mathilde.

"Этo нe фaльшивкa, тoвapищ кoмaндиp." A militia fighter says after inspecting the case and its contents.

"And that was just the sample, we've got about nine more of those things in that truck!" Mathilde flashes a wide smile to the commander while letting off a child-like chuckle.

"Okay, Ms. Hansa. How about a hundred and fifty?"

"Hmmm, that won't do! I'm thinking two hundred, minimum."

Grishanov sighs, but acquiesces to the offer nonetheless, as NLAWs would typically cost 30K+ a piece, and getting ten of them for a mere 200 grand is a steal. The commander gestures to the militant who later went back to the Russian perimeter of the field and returned soon after carrying an attache briefcase from Grishanov's Tigr for transfer to Mathilde. Mathilde then handed the briefcase to her accountant.

"It's all there, Ms. Hansa. Two hundred as you wanted."

"Yes, I can see that." Mathilde motions to her guards, who began converging around her. "Well gentlemen, it's been nice doing business with you!"

The guards raised their rifles uniformly in unison, pointing the business end of their weapons at the Russians before opening fire.

[TO BE CONTINUED - SOON™]

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//Due to some trivial but unfortunate real-life circumstances, I'll be putting this quest on-hold. Don't worry, it's nothing major and I'll resume posting in about two or three days. In the meantime I'll still check around the thread so if you guys have any thoughts, questions or even suggestions, please let me know! It's the only way I can improve this quest forward.

Thanks!

>>5690462
Don't be gone too long!

>>5690462
That's a shame, I hope you have a good time with whatever you're doing.
A question, why the anime pictures? I'm not exactly complaining, but it does make me a bit curious.

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>>5690492
//I promise I will return as soonest as possible!

>>5690673
Thanks! The anime pieces I've been using as references from this quest are works that I've been taking inspiration from, with Jormungand being the most influential one by far. The whole concept of the quest originally stemmed from Jormungand's Dance with Undershaft story arc, in which an overzealous CIA officer goes out for one last fight against her archnemesis, the arms dealer Koko Hekmatyar. Let's just say the aftermath didn't really bode well for the two of them.

>>5690685
Going to try and check it out, thank you!

>>5690821
//Cheers, fren!

>>5690461
sheesh, seems like she isn't a reliable dealer or someone offered her a high price to kill the bear as well.

>>5691032
//Don't worry, the NLAWs were made in China. No loss of profits there.

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//I'll be resuming Vengeance Burns Red! Expect some posts to follow.

FIVE MINUTES EARLIER..

"Snatcher-1, we have a confirmation that the White Swan is on the scene. Hold your position and wait for my mark, over."

"Roger, holding."

You raised your carbine and trained the red dot of your weapon's optic on Mathilde. You watched her approach Grishanov and engage in small-talk of which you could barely hear, before they proceeded with their business. A guard walked out from the truck with a case of NLAW in his hands and brought it over to Mathilde and Grishanov before retreating back to his position.

"NLAW's presence confirmed. Snatcher Team, get ready to move- wait, the fuck?"

As soon as the money from the Russians contained within an attache suitcase have exchanged hands, you witnessed the guards suddenly gathering around Mathilde, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with one another before opening fire on the Russians that stood before them, except for their commander.

"Watcher, you seeing this shit!?" Clown shouts into the radio.

One by one, the bodies of the Russian militants fell and hit the earth as the guards fanned out and swiftly moved into their perimeter to dispatch them. It was a one-sided battle, as the Russians hardly put up a fight due to the element of surprise while the guards quickly made short work of them. It served as an effective reminder that these men Mathilde have hired were not the typical run-of-the-mill triggermen.

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[...]

Bang!

The final gunshot rang out all across the field. In their wake, Mathilde's bodyguards has left tens of Russian militia fighters dead. As they have been instructed to leave no survivors behind, the guards executed any and all wounded or stragglers. Grishanov, powerless to stop all of the massacre, was left spechless what they have done to his battalion.

"Wh-wh.. I.."

"Sorry about that, Colonel. I just figured this factory would be a nice place for me to have a reunion with some old friends is all. Unfortunately for you, you'd just be standing in my way." Mathilde shrugs.

"Y-You bitch..! What are you talking about!? We had a deal!"

Mathilde caught sight of Grishanov's hand twitching near his drop leg holster. What did she expect from him, he just witnessed the slaughter of his own subordinates right in front of him after all.

"Yeah, well, it looks like the deal's off." Mathilde turns her gaze away from the commander and onto the female bodyguard that stood behind him and tilted her head, beckoning the woman to kill him.

Grishanov, noticing that someone was approaching behind him, removed the Stechkin APS from his holster and turned his body back around. However, before he could get a good aim at the guard, she seizes him by his wrist and pushes his hand to aside, his gun now pointing away from her face and upwards to the sky. Grishanov vainly lets off a few rounds from his sidearm. Unflinching to the gunshots, the guard unsheathes the knife from her shoulder and thrusts its blade into his neck before pulling it out.

Blood began to stream out of his neck and Grishanov's grip around his weapon loosens before dropping it completely. The guard lets go of the commander, resulting him to crumple on the ground as he desperate tries to apply pressure around his neck, to no avail. Left with no immediate medical assistance, Grishanov was fated to die, choking haplessly on his own blood.

"Heheheh, good work as always, Velina!" Mathilde commends the guard's performance while giving her a thumbs up.

"Eh, you think so, ma'am!?" Velina replies, her voice laden with excitement as her face is tinged with an apparent shade of red. Hearing Mathilde's praise made Velina do a complete 180 on her demeanor, which she quickly took notice of and began dampening that excitement in her tone. "I-I mean, I'm flattered, ma'am.."

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[...]

After watching Mathilde's bodyguards murder the Russians ruthlessly in broad daylight, you flicked the safety off your carbine and chambered it with a 5.45 round from the magazine. Once you had your weapon raised, you realize Mathilde, surrounded by her men, was marching in the direction of your warehouse. Reaching her hand out to the side, Mathilde was then given a white megaphone.

"Watcher, we've got hostiles incoming in our direction. What's the call here?" Vic talks into his radio.

"Shit, hold.. hold your position, Snatcher Team. We are inbound!" Axe replies. He sounds panicked.

"We really gotta move, Vic." Clown remarks.

"Ummmm, testing, testing." Mathilde speaks into the mic, her voice reverberating through the megaphone. "Oh this, works. Okay, ahem! Ladies and gentlemen of the CIA, please come out of that warehouse with your hands up and your weapons on the ground! You know who you are!"

"Shit, Watcher, we've been made! Come in, Watcher! Axe!" Vic yells into his radio, to which he went unreplied. He subsequently groans in frustration.

With the situation becoming more and more pressing by the second and your teammates indecisive, you feel inclined to take lead for your team. On the one hand, Clown was right, you couldn't stay here and you know it. For your teammates' well-being, it may be better if your team left now, as staying in the warehouse any further would mean taking unnecessary risk. On the other hand, orders were, well, orders.

>[Stand your ground until Watcher returns to the warehouse]
>[Get in the van and rendezvous with Watcher]

>>5692738
nice seeing you again, OP
>>5692744
>[Stand your ground until Watcher returns to the warehouse]
Gonna trust the commander. I wanna see why the fuck did she kill the russians before coming for us, she could've used them to pelt us.

>>5692744
>>[Stand your ground until Watcher returns to the warehouse]

>>5692744
>[Stand your ground until Watcher returns to the warehouse]

>>5692744
>>[Stand your ground until Watcher returns to the warehouse]

"If you do not surrender to me in less than fourty seconds, I will presume you are to resist, and I will not hesitate to open fire at that warehouse. Starting now."

"Vic, what the fuck are we going to do? Make a call, damn!" Clown shouts in a hushed tone.

"We're going to sit tight until Axe and Castle arrives!" You replied, right before Vic could answer Clown's question. "We're not leaving them behind. I suggest we take some cover and get ready for the inevitable."

"What? Is she fucking serious!?"

"Just follow what she says, Clown."

"Fuck.. alright. Fine."

Clown and Vic heeded at your decision and the three of you retreated to the back of the warehouse, taking cover behind a pile of metal crates. Clown deploys the bipod of his M249 SAW and rests the machine gun on top of the crate and chambered it. Meanwhile, Vic swapped the box magazine of his AK-74, instead opting for a 76-rnd drum. Your team was fixing for a firefight and with the firepower you had, it should be enough to hold the hostiles at bay.

"The offer's gonna expire. What it's going to be, CIA? Tick tock, you've got ten seconds left!"

Ten seconds pass.

"Alright, if that's your choice, then so be it. Boys, let's party!"

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https://voca.ro/1b0S8O8qDxyr
---

Fully-automatic gunfire began to erupt from outside the warehouse as bullets pierced through the walls, wheezing past you and your teammates and impacting your surroundings. Your team then fired back in retaliation, resulting in the guards having to break off from their shoulder-to-shoulder formation and forcing them to take cover behind their vehicle while the sounds of the deafening gunfire filled the entire room. Miraculously, nobody in this fight was injured thus far, not even Mathilde's guards. Until now..

"Ah- shit, fuck!"

Two stray rounds somehow hits Clown's right arm and his abdomen, the former grazing his arm and taking a chunk of his skin and flesh off of it in the process, while the latter seems to have ricocheted from the ground and into his body. Vic then rushes to his position to apply to check up on him. Clown's wound seemed worse than it actually was, but if left untreated, could risk infection.

"I'm okay man, it's just a scratch.."

"That shit don't look like a scratch to me! Kate, take the SAW!"

Vic shoved the M249 over to you with his boot. Seizing the machine gun off the ground, you performed suppressive fire in the general direction of the bodyguards, causing the fight to settle down temporarily. You then see two figures within the warehouse on your left rapidly approaching your team's location. You aimed the now-empty SAW at them but before you could pull the trigger, you would discover they were Axe and Castle.

"Blue, blue! Don't shoot!"

You breathed off a sigh of relief upon their presence. "Shit, I thought you guys bailed on us." You jokingly remarked.

"Heh, nah. But we do need to get the fuck out of here." Axe replies. "Clown, you good?"

"I mean, I ain't dead yet."

"Yeah, but you're hurt." Axe turns his view over to you. "Marsh, you keep the gun. Grab the ammo boxes from Clown's pouches. Let's move out, guys."

Vic places Clown's left arm over his shoulder and starts moving him into the van. Wincing from the pain, Clown cussed with every step he took.

"Fuck man, I ain't still gotten used to this kind of hurt.."

"Relax, we're gonna get you back to base and we're gonna get you patched up. Don't worry about it."

"You're the one who said it didn't look like a scratch, motherfucker."

Vic and Clown chuckled to each other before embarking on the van. You then followed suit.

>[Take the shotgun seat]
>[Take a rear passenger seat]

>>5693463
>>[Take the shotgun seat]

>>5692821
//Likewise, fren!

>>5693463
>[Take the shotgun seat]
One of these days this will get us shot too.

>>5693463
>[Take the shotgun seat]

>>5693463
>[Take the shotgun seat]
why vocaroo and not a yt link for the music ?

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>>5693496
//Injuries are character developments!

>>5693575
All of the soundtrack I use are stuff that I pull from my hard drive and since some of them don't exist in YouTube, I used Vocaroo for consistency's sake.

>>5693463
>>[Take a rear passenger seat

>>5693575
Vocaroo is forever

You paced forth to the shotgun seat of the van and hopped on. Next to you was Castle, who will drive the vehicle like before. Meanwhile, Vic and Clown was at the back, with Axe tagging along with them to help Vic with triage.

"Let's get a move on, Cast!"

"On it, boss."

Castle starts up the van and promptly shifted its transmission lever into the first gear before departing from the warehouse. After gaining the sufficient speed, he shifts the lever into the second gear and the van now have left the plant. The checkpoint that you've visited prior was now in sight, with the Russian sentry guards standing behind the roadblock as they remained oblivious as to what happened in the rocket plant. Knowing that their existence were now pointless, you took it upon yourself to relieve them of their duties.. with bullets.

You leaned out from the window of the van, your M249 now locked and loaded. "GET OUT OF THE FUCKIN' WAY!" You shouted, before following it up by firing a hail of 5.56 rounds at the two, killing one while injuring another, with the latter jumping out of the van's way right before the vehicle crashes through the roadblocks.

"Christ, Marsh. Talk about subtlety, or lack thereof." Clown shoots a remark at your expense, leading to your teammates to break out into laughter on this brief moment of respite.

"THE GRAY ZONE", DNIPRO, UKRAINE

Your team was now in the heart of Dnipro, a sprawling urban area split into two parts by the Dnieper River. The center of this city as of the moment is hotly contested, with Russian forces occupying the northern side of Dnipro continue to press attacks against the Ukrainian-held southern side through shellings, airstrikes and loitering munition drones. The Ukrainians—desperately clinging for every inch of the territory in the city—have demolished the three bridges connecting the Northern and Southern parts of Dnipro in a last-ditch effort to slow the Russian advance. This contested territory of the city have been nicknamed the "gray zone", which refers to the fact that neither side of the conflict possess true control of the city, aka no man's land.

With the bridges destroyed, the only way for your team to return safely back to Southern Dnipro is to enlist the help of an SBU recon team who have set up a field base in an abandoned building within the gray zone. Yet, there's this ominous sensation at the back of your body that leads you to think this may have been a bad idea; a growing suspicion. As Mathilde have discovered your presence in the rocket plant, there's a possibility that she may know of the SBU base. Hell, the idea that she may be already made aware of the entire plan does not sound too far-fetched, as unsettling as it sounds..

[...]

"Orel to Fort, come in, over. Orel to Fort, do you read me?" Axe fiddles with his secondary radio as his repeated attempts to communicate with the Ukrainians have yielded no results thus far.

"Where are we heading, boss?" Castle questions as he looks back and forth at the rearview mirror to check on Clown's condition.

"We're going to visit our SBU friends. Clown needs treatment fast."

>[Visit the safehouse]
>[Reach the Ukrainian line]

>>5693812
>>[Reach the Ukrainian line]

>>5693812
>[Reach the Ukrainian line]

>>5693812
>[Visit the safehouse]

>>5693812
>[Reach the Ukrainian line]

>>5690685
Based Jormungand enjoyer.

The ending was piss-pot tier. Agreed?

Also: I am Undershaft. I had to do it. But I'd rather be in Borderlands.

//It's been a busy day today, bros. Expect a new post tomorrow. For now, I will rest..

>>5694027
It was serviceable enough for what it was, but it was clearly half-baked. Rather than feeling like a proper conclusion to the story, the final chapters of the manga felt more like a "well that just happened" type of ending. The anime version of the ending did not help at all by condensing like three chapters of the manga into a single episode either.

//I suppose that happened. Oh well. I'll try to post a new update tonight or tomorrow. I apologize dearly for the delays I've taken.

"No, we can't take Clown there. We need to make a run for the Ukrainian line." You protest Axe's decision, much to some of your teammates' dismay.

"You're stepping out of your line, Marsh. Clown needs medical attention, and he needs it now." Vic argued.

"Axe has been radioing them for half an hour now and they have yet to respond. They're compromised; we can't take that risk."

"I don't know if you've forgotten already, lady, but staying at the warehouse was your fucking idea, you fuckin' bitch!" Clown raises his voice against you before groaning from the pain of the injuries he sustained.

"She might be right." Castle quietly mutters his take on the matter.

"Castle? You're on her side now?" Clown retorts.

"Look, I just think she might be right. I mean, Mathilde and her men, they.. they knew that some of us were in that warehouse. What makes you guys think they don't about the entire plan from the beginning?" Castle says what you've been thinking in mind out loud, "This shit reeks, Axe. This op's rotten."

"Yeah.." Axe affirmingly responds to Castle's opinion, seemingly to have thought about things the same way. "Castle, drive us to the Dnepr river. We may have to work with something to cross the-"

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---

SSSST!

You hear the sound of a faraway tire screech on the asphalt road from the rear. You turned your back around and saw three Toyota Hiluxes from that factory before, only a few meters away and rapidly closing.

"Gah, who the fuck is this!?" Axe yells.

A woman popped up from the lead vehicle's sunroof, brandishing an M240 Lima which she racked before setting it down on the vehicle. She took aim with the machine gun, aligning her dominant eye with the ACOG sight mounted atop the while pressing the stock against her shoulder. She then pulls the trigger, firing the light machine gun in multiple short bursts. The impact of the 7.62 rounds was enough to make every occupant in the van jolt.

"Castle, step on the gas dammit!" Clown clamors.

"Trying, but this van's a slow fucking beater!"

Luckily for your team, the very thing standing between them and death itself was the applique armor they had installed prior to the op and even then, the 7.62 rounds that kept pounding the vehicle was progressively wearing the armor's integrity thin, evident by the dents it had made. By the time the team had reached Dnepr river, the van will be full of holes already.

Right before the gunner could breach the armor however, she would find herself out of ammo and in need to reload. The leading Hilux then slows down as the two following vehicles passes through. With how slow the van was accelerating compared to the Hilux, the guards managed to catch up to the van in no time. Noticing this, Castle waited for the Hiluxes to drive side by side with the van, before ramming them to the nearest debris that littered the highway road, disabling them. All that was left now, was the leader of Hilux pack.

"Axe, this door ain't gonna hold. We need to do something about that gunner fast."

"You got an idea, Vic!?"

>[Pedal to the metal!]
>[Concentrated counterfire!]

//Reposted for some slight adjustments, it seems text formatting is no longer working because of my dynamic IP. Really sorry it took me this long to put a new post!

>>5695769
>>[Concentrated counterfire!]

>>5695769
>>[Pedal to the metal!]

>>5695769
>>[Pedal to the metal!]

>>5695769
>>[Concentrated counterfire!]

Rolled 1 (1d2)

//Oof, that's a 50/50. Looks like we need a tiebreaker.

1. [Pedal to the metal!]
2. [Concentrated counterfire!]

>>5695769
>[Concentrated counterfire!]

>>5696421
//Why would you do this to me.. ;(

>>5696621
Just go with what you think fits best

>>5694101
I haven't read the manga, but yes, the anime ending hoed everyone who watched that bitch. Look, man, I get that anime is expensive to make. I can get down with that. What I can't get down with is doing a shit tier job at animation because "well it's expensive so fuck it dood!" It's like the Gangsta ending, which was very starkly "fuck you and read the manga."

Like come on bruh. What are we doin'?

The ending didn't even make sense. Jormungand would only slow down WMDs. There would still be war, just sans ICMBs and the like. Her brother himself said he'd sell sticks and stones if it came down to it. Give it a generation or two and Jormungand will fall apart, and it's business as usual. So Koko is indeed loco if she thinks she can oh-no nuclear missiles.

>>5697584
Plus even if she took the skies, Humanity can just return to boats and submarines. If anything she made war worse as ground combat will be much more valuable since the air force is gone and infantry become hidden.

>>5696621
Koko, you still with us?

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>>5697967
//Always! Expect a new post in a few hours or so, that is if I don't fall asleep after visiting a relative.

>>5698006
//Crap bros, it looks like I'll be staying at my relative's for the night. I'm so sorry!!

"I got one."

You tossed your SAW into the rear passenger seat and climbed your way out from the front row. Turning over to Axe, he was visibly confused at what you had just said.

"Marsh, what the hell are you doing?"

"We need to stop that vehicle."

"Yeah, but how?"

"With how hard these rounds are hammering these doors, we need to retaliate fast. A concentrated counterfire on the windshield would work. If we assume that Hilux is armored, we can blind the driver. Give me Vic, I'm gunna need some help on this one."

"Vic, help her out. I can look after Clown."

Vic passed the medical equipment that was in his hands over to Axe and snatched the AK-74 that had been on the ground. He flicks the safety selector down and chambers his weapon, before holding his rifle at a low-ready stance.

"You serious about this, Marsh? We do this at the wrong second and we'll be mincemeat."

"It's our only way out of here. Just trust me, okay? Here she comes, get ready."

[...]

Velina peers back up on the sunroof of the Hilux with her now-loaded machine gun in hand and laid the weapon down. She then pulls back the charging handle and steadies her aim on the van's rear doors before letting off a multiple bursts like before on the vehicle in front of her, only for the weapon to suffer a malfunction halfway through the ammo belt.

"Дa чтo c тoбoй тaкoe..." She mumbles to herself.

Velina pulls the charging handle of the M240L back before returning it in the forward position. Opening the cover of the machine gun, she was about to perform the weapon's clearing procedure when she sees the van's rear doors open right before her very eyes.

[...]

https://voca.ro/11dVrUHdKrF8
---

"NOW!"

The two of you slammed the soles of your boots into the doors, breaking its latch and busting it wide open. Noticing that the gunner on top of the Hilux was preoccupied with clearing her M240, you fired at her direction, forcing her to hide within the vehicle. As soon as the gunner had popped back down, you and Vic laid down a single continuous burst of lead into the windshield until your weapons ran dry, covering it entirely in bullet cracks and glass dust. The Hilux then receded in speed before accidentally running over a large piece of rubble that causes the the vehicle to flip and turn sideways.

"Clear." You coolly uttered. Discarding the muzzle-steaming SAW on the floor that had been littered with trash and expended bullet casings, you rested your back against the lined walls of the interior before letting off a heavy sigh as your body began to decompress. You feel exhausted.

Axe shook his head as a nervous chuckle escaped from him. "We got pretty damn lucky, only a few seconds more and we would have been dead meat." He then turns over to Vic, "Clown's stable for now."

"Those are some pretty ballsy moves there, Marsh." Clown snickers, with the rest of the team joining him.

[...]

Velina crawled out of the disabled Hilux through the open sunroof, grasping her head as she became disoriented by the crash. Clutching a radio in her hand, she raised the mic end of the device up to her lips and began to talk to Mathilde through it.

"Ma'am, we've lost the target. Я иcкpeннe coжaлeю, чтo пoдвeл вac, бoльшe тaкoгo нe пoвтopитcя."

"It's okay, Velina! I know you tried your best. I'll have someone pick you up." Mathilde replies through the radio, her voice cheery and carefree as usual.

"Thank you ma'am," She lowers the radio, before slamming her hand to the wreckage of the Hilux. "Чepт.."

[TO BE CONTINUED - WILL RETURN MOMENTARILY]

>>5698611
does momentarily mean in a few hours ?

>>5698650
//We are past that point now, but I'm hopeful I will return tomorrow!

[...]

Ten minutes had only passed in what felt like an eternity already, and now that the adrenaline has worn off, the van was filled with idle chatter, as your teammates engaged in banter with each other. Meanwhile, you yourself awkwardly sat in the corner of the van, silently listening to them talk about their past exploits within your earshot. You didn't have any intention of joining them, but nonetheless it made you feel disconnected from the rest of the group; like a misift.

"Hey Kate." You feel your left shoulder being poked. Turning to the left, you see Vic who was seated next to you, offering you some water out of his canteen.

>[Accept]
>[Decline]

>>5699280
>>[Accept]

>>5699280
>[Accept]

>>5699280
>[Accept]

>>5699280
>>[Decline]

Accepting Vic's offer, you took hold of the canteen from his hand and swayed them around, causing the water to slosh around inside the canteen. The canteen was about half-full, as it wasn't too heavy, nor was it too light. You twisted the cap off the canteen and lifted its rim up to your mouth, before taking in a large gulp of water, resulting in your dry throat to moisten.

"Thanks, Vic."

You passed the still-open canteen back to him, to which he screws the cap back on before placing it in a pouch on his belt. His attention was now fully turned onto you.

"Y'know, there was some hearsay surrounding you back at Langley. I heard you got a real hard-on for arms dealers. Is that true?"

A hard-on for arms dealers? Maybe. This wasn't your first rodeo with dealing with merchants of death after all; it was your second. The first was in Syria, in the last mission of your final tour that concluded prematurely. Over there, something horrible happened, something that is perhaps better off left unspoken.

>["It is." - Talk about Syria]
>["No, those are just rumors." - Don't talk about Syria]
>[Write-in]

>>5699491
>["It is." - Talk about Syria]

>>5699491
>>["It is." - Talk about Syria]

Oh no our first red death flag. Talking about our backstory.

>>5699491
>>["No, those are just rumors." - Don't talk about Syria]

>>5699491
>["It is." - Talk about Syria]

>>5699491
>["It is." - Talk about Syria]

>>5697771
I mean, I wasn't talking to you so next time stfu, but you make interesting points.

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"It is." You said, swallowing your own spit. "I do have something against arms dealers."

[...]

"It was seven years ago, in Syria. I was only a Lieutenant back then, and an executive officer of an Operational Detachment unit. My unit was working on this one guy, whose name was Khalid al-Fauzi, who we managed to trace several arms sales of modified AKs, factory-manufactured plastic explosives and other forms of sophisticated military equipment to. He was linked to having done transactions with multiple radical rebel groups who mostly fought the Assadist government, but have also conducted attacks on Rojava territory. That was the reason why we even looked into him in the first place."

"After months of recon with the Syrian Democratic Forces, we have located his base of operations, a compound in the outskirts of Ma'adan; a town in the Raqqa district that was basically a border between Rojava and Assadist Syria. We took our findings to SOCOM, and they granted us with the authorization to launch a raid on the compound. Backing us up were Marine Raiders, who provided us with the necessary manpower to carry this operation out. Before we knew it, my unit and the Marines dusted off from the Tabqa airbase in Raqqa, in three Black Hawks."

"We thought that this op was just another day at the office, a walk in the park. We've done similar things before for a hundredth time now, we didn't really expect it to be any different. What we didn't realize however, was that we were walking into an ambush..."

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//Would you guys prefer to continue this subplot through Marsh talking or a full-blown flashback interlude?

>>5700389
Up to you but I prefer the first

>>5700389
I don't mind either way

>>5700389
Whatever you think works

>>5700389
go on, bro

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"The Black Hawks dropped us off just two klicks away from the compound. There were about thirty of us operators and a single MWD that partook in this operation. We split up into three chalks, with each chalk having two fireteams. I led the second fireteam of the Alpha chalk, which was comprised of us Green Berets, while Gamma and Delta were Marine Raiders. We then hiked for about a half hour or so before arriving at the compound. When we approached the site, I had this unpleasant sensation creeping up the back of my body; a premonition of sorts. I didn't really mind it, though looking back at it.. maybe I should've listened to my intuition."

"Now, as the plan was to pit al-Fauzi within the housing target building in an encirclement and prevent him from escaping, the Alpha and Delta chalks stacked up on the main gate to infil the compound through the front courtyard, while Delta scaled up the rear walls and enter the target building through this greenhouse structure situated in the backyard. However, when we breached that gate and moved in, we were immediately met with heavy small arms fire from the windows of the house. Already, we were taking a number of casualties as we were stuck in that damn courtyard."

"In what should have been a swift, methodical and routine raid turned into a desperate assault on a fortified stronghold where the more we progressed through the house, the more casualties we sustained. The enemy wasn't the typical part-timer jihadists either; these guys were uniformed and dressed head-to-toe in tactical gear, and possessed night-vision capabilities as well. Fighting these guys was a fucking struggle. By the time we managed to get to al-Fauzi's quarters, we've already had six KIA and three wounded. One of those KIAs were from Alpha, Alpha-1's commo specifically."

"When we got to Al-Fauzi, there was something off about the circumstances in which we found him in. The guy had locked himself shut in the closet of his bedroom, clearly scared shitless. Now, that'd be a normal reaction when you have people armed with guns barging on your house's door uninvited, but here's the thing: Al-Fauzi was locked from outside the closet, and when we pried it open, he comes out storming at us shouting how he was just a 'terp for these guys. We didn't buy his shit obviously, since he had what looked like a black vest around him and came running at us the moment we told him to step out of the closet, which made us jump and put a few rounds in his dome."

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"When we got to Al-Fauzi, there was something off about the circumstances in which we found him in. The guy had locked himself shut in the closet of his bedroom, clearly scared shitless. Now, that'd be a normal reaction when you have people armed with guns barging on your house's door uninvited, but here's the thing: Al-Fauzi was locked from outside the closet, and when we pried it open, he comes out storming at us shouting how he was just a 'terp for these guys. We didn't buy his shit obviously, since he had what looked like a black vest around him and came running at us the moment we told him to step out of the closet, which made us jump and put a few rounds in his dome."

"I wish that was the last of the mission, but then Gamma's K9 picked up a scent, which led to the Marines discovering a hidden entrance to a basement floor. It was pitch black, no illumination of any sort, so we relied on our night-vision to see. In this floor were racks of AR-15s and AKs, piles of assorted explosives and last but not least, cases upon cases of MANPADS and MANPATS of both West and Eastern origin. It was the kind of shit the US wouldn't want to fall into jihadi hands, yet there they were. Gathering dust in a basement somewhere in Syrian soil."

"Stumbling upon a locked door in that basement, me and some Marines from Gamma overheard some incomprehensible conversation of.. a girl, shouting at a man from the other side of that door, before we heard a sound of metal being slammed upon something. I then tasked my breacher from Alpha-2—an Engineer named Coleman—to set up some strip charges on the door when shots broke out from inside the room and onto the door, hitting Coleman."

"Coleman collapsed on his back, with blood trickling out from his neck as it forms a puddle. A SARC then rushed over to him to drag him off from the doorway, and I began firing my rifle into the door. It hasn't even been a minute when the Corpsman told me Coleman died, that and there. I tried to shrug it off and hold myself together, but I couldn't. So, I kicked that door down, my rifle pointed forward and all that I saw was.."

[...]

[...]

You bit your own tongue as you struggled to recount the story further. All that you were thinking about right now, was the face of that weak, pale boy. You remember him vividly, along with every detail of what happened in that room. How he stared back at you with vitriol, how the blood flowed from his leg, how his hand inched closer and closer to his discarded AK, and how, despite the repeated amount of times you pleaded with him to not to, went for his weapon, forcing you to pull the trigger on him one more time, putting him down for good.

You've been bottling up about what happened that day for years now. Taking a good look at your surroundings, everyone in this van looked at you with curiosity in their eyes, engrossed by the tale you've told them. You wanted to tell everyone in this van what really happened, but the words just won't come out naturally.

>[Disclose the full story]
>[Conclude the story at a cliffhanger]

//Finally got that one out, after two days worth of sleeping zzzzz...

>>5701931
>>[Conclude the story at a cliffhanger]

>>5701931
>[Conclude the story at a cliffhanger]

>>5701931
>>[Disclose the full story]

>>5701931
>[Conclude the story at a cliffhanger]
If they want to hear the full story, they must help us survive this!

>>5701931
>[Conclude the story at a cliffhanger]

//Just came here to say happy America Day, frens. Now post will come tonight (it's 7:51 AM as I'm typing this) or tomorrow.

After pondering about it for a good minute, you shook your head. "That's it. I guess." You say, abruptly concluding the story as you blankly stared into the ground with your arms wrapped around your carbine.

The SOG team collectively leaned their backs against the van and sighed. Although the conclusion of the story was left up to their imagination, it didn't take much for your teammates to piece together on what you had seen in that room. Not wanting to pry out any further details from you explicitly however, they decided to leave you alone, ensuing an awkward silence within the van for the remainder of the trip. Until..

POP!

You hear a loud explosion coming from the front side of the van, resulting in the vehicle to slow down and careen off from the road before crashing into the window of a nearby building on the corner of an intersection. Castle, who had been driving the van, hits his head against the steering wheel and was consequently knocked out from the blunt trauma in the process. Reeling from the effects of the crash, you and Axe exited the van together while Vic places Clown's arm around him and starts carrying him out of the vehicle.

"What the fuck happened?" Vic says, coughing.

"Castle probably ran over a mine, one of those PFM-1 models." Axe replies, explaining the prospects of what happened. "Marsh, get him out of the van, we need to move fast."

"On it."

With the front half of the van stuck inside the building while the rear end was sticking out in the open, you slung your AKS-74U around your back and trod your way to the main entrance and set foot in what appears to be a coffee shop. The place have been evidently abandoned by its owners, made apparent by all the dust and dirt that caked its otherwise intact furniture. You walked to the driver seat of the van and opened the door, only to have Castle's unresponsive body fall into your arms.

"Ugh-! Dammit.."

Staggering a few steps back, the weight of Castle's body and his gear nearly made you collapse onto the floor, but you've managed to stand still and straighten yourself out. You then checked his body if he was simply unconscious or worse, dead. Thankfully, it was the former. You then dragged Castle over to the doorway, where Axe was waiting outside. Right as you were about to open the wooden door, you hear a six faint yet audible consecutive pops that came from afar. You tried to look out from the glass cutout of the door, but it had been painted red; Axe has been shot.

"W-Whoa, fuck!" You yelled, jolting in shock.

You ducked down the door window and immediately dragged Castle back as you retreated behind the coffee shop's counter table. After swapping your partially-empty 5.45 magazine for a full one, you pressed down the push-to-talk button on your shoulder mic and begin whispering into it.

"Vic, we've got contact. Axe is down. Acknowledge, over."

"Sorry about that, it appears Paramilitary Operations Officer Victor Morales here isn't going to talk for a while." You hear a familiar voice reply to you through the radio call, before the sounds of a man moaning in pain takes over. The prior voice then returns; it's that girl again.

"What can I do for you- or rather, what can you do for me, Targeting Analyst Kate Marsh?"

>["Who the hell are you?!"]
>["How did you know about us?"]
>["I'm not gonna give in to the likes of you."]
>[Write-in]

//We're getting super close to Chapter 3, guys!

>>5704673
>>["Who the hell are you?!"]

>>5704673
>["Who the hell are you?!"]

>>5704673
>>["I'm not gonna give in to the likes of you."]

>>5704673
>["Who the hell are you?!"]

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"Just who the hell are you!?"

"Oh come on, you already know who this is! it's me, the girl you call 'White Swan!' I thought it would have been obvious by now." Mathilde playfully replies. "Say, doesn't your voice kind of remind me of somebody? You sound familiar but I just can't quite put my finger on it.. Hmm.."

"Enough with the bullshit! How did you know about us!?"

"Whoa, whoa, okay, relax, miss. I know you're being emotional right now but you've gotta stop with the swearing. It's not very polite. Let's just say, for brevity's sake, that I have eyes and ears everywhere. Will that do?"

"What do you want from me?"

"Now we're negotiating! Finally!" You hear Mathilde audibly clap her hands through the radio. "All I want from you, is to tell me who sent you here. Actually, no, all you have to do is just give me a simple 'yes' or 'no, 'cause I already have a few names in mind, but the most likely suspect I'm guessing is Ca-"

"I'm not telling you anything. Get fucked."

Mathilde lets off an exhausted sigh. "Is this how you really want things to play out? Devolve this already unfavorable situation in your terms into yet another firefight? You know, we've got that cafe that you're in right now under siege. You're outmanned and outgunned. Are you sure you're willing to risk this 'Vic' fellow to bleed out? What about that stunned friend of yours that you've got inside? Do you want him to die from the crossfire?"

Taking a peek from the counter table, you see a horizontal row of soldiers standing outside the coffee shop with their rifles trained in your direction. At the center of the formation was Mathilde still wearing the same pristine white coat from the factory, seemingly to have been untouched by all the grime and dirt of Dnipro. Standing next to her was a man that dwarfed her in height and possessed a grizzled appearance. He seems to be the same man as the one in Poland.

>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]
>["Our lives are trivial compared to our assignments."]
>[Write-in]

>>5705576
>>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]

>>5705576
>["Our lives are trivial compared to our assignments."]

>>5705576
>>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]

>>5705576
>>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]

>>5705576
>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]
wait a minute, what happened in poland ?

>>5706292
>>5687260

>>5706293
alright, thanks

>>5705576
>["They'll understand. It's what we signed up for."]

//Gonna try to push out a new post and have it be done by tomorrow. Sit tight, frens.

"They'll understand. I'm sure of it, it's what they signed up for."

"God, that's no way to live, Marsh. I can assure you of that. Look, how about you just walk out of that building with your arms up, and we can talk. Just give me a name, and I promise, we will walk away with your friends' lives intact. Would that be a good idea?"

"I've already made up my mind that I'm not going to collaborate with the likes of you people."

"My my, you're quite the piece of work. Okay, we'll play along with your antics for now. Don't say I didn't warn you though, CIA."

[...]

Mathilde lobs the radio to Vic, who had been lying down on the ground bleeding from the gunshots for quite sometime now, and hits his head, causing him to grunt from the hit. She turns her back around and crosses her arms. The man who stood beside her looks down at her as he waits for his instructions.

"Bring the two of them to me, alive."

"So we're not killing them?" The man replies, bewildered upon hearing her words.

"Their op is clearly Caseman's idea. I want to send a message to him and I need him to know it was us. Oh and, once you're done, have Noel out here too."

"Hm, so you're finally going to give him a chance at redemption?"

"He's been with us for two years, Rafe. I believe in him."

"Careful, Mathilde. That's why people underestimate you."

"Well, it's befitting of my image, is it not? Let them be, they'll see the light eventually." She scoffs and inserts her hands into the pockets, before walking away from the scene with a wide smirk on her face.

[...]

With your only connection to Mathilde severed, your brief conversation with her had now come to an end. You then suddenly feel something tugging your combat dress; it was Castle. He had just regained his consciousness.

"What's going on.. Marsh?" Castle spoke. He was clearly still dazed from the crash and was now trying to get a grasp on you. "Where's the team..?"

"Castle!" You took his arm and sat him up, propping his body against the counter. "Get up, we're surrounded."

"The hell are you talking about.. where's Axe- Shit!"

Before Castle could finish his sentence, gunfire from the soldiers outside erupted en masse, startling the two of you as the bullets whizzed past above the counter table, leaving a series of craters on the wall behind you.

"Your team is gone, okay!? I'm sorry, but it's just the two of us now. We need to stick together."

You unslung the carbine that was on your back and took note of the fact that Castle was only armed with his sidearm: a single Glock 19. His sniper rifle and his AK-105 had been left behind in the van. With the little amount of firepower you currently possess, you will not be able to hold off the soldiers outside for long at this rate.

Behind the two of you though, was a wooden door ridden with holes that leads into the coffee shop's staff break room. You and Castle should be able to escape from the coffee shop should there be a fire exit in the back of the building. Not willing to leave anything to chance, you decided to take this opportunity by thrusting your foot onto the door, resulting in it swinging wide open.

"Through here! There should be an exit up ahead."

Castle nodded and without a word, he assumed the prone position and proceeded to crawl into the break room while you stayed behind, firing back at the soldiers outside to prevent them from going inside the coffee shop. Once Castle had entered the room, you slowly retreated into the break room step by step as you kept on shooting, all the while keeping a low-profile so as to not let yourself become a much bigger target than you already were.

Now that you are inside the staff break room, you turn your back around and see a hallway with two doors; a wooden one to the side which is most likely a storage room, and a gray metal one with a panic bar that allows you to open the door with ease. At the ceiling in the direction of the gray door was a blue sign that spells "BЫХOД", Russian for the word "exit".

"Gray door. On me, Cast."

You and Castle marched onto the gray door with your weapons aimed forth as he had his left hand firmly placed on your shoulder. Upon reaching the door, you grabbed the panic bar and pressed it down, prompting the door to unlock before you pushed it open. On the other end of that door, was the grizzled old man from outside, towering over you while holding a Galil by its handguard and stock. Because of his giant-like posture, the man's rifle looked disproportionately tiny.

"Good afternoon, lads." The man spoke with a thick accent. He then raises his weapon and strikes you in the face using the buttstock, with an impact strong enough that it makes you fall to the ground disoriented. Before Castle could get a round off his Glock, the man shot his rifle at his knee, effectively pacifying him. In the back, you can hear Castle grunting audibly from the pain of his injury.

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"All stations, this is 0-1, all targets neutralized. Regroup at the exterior, out." The man speaks into his radio. He then treads over you and Castle, before grabbing the two of you by your collars and dragging you both outside of the coffee shop without much effort. A trail of blood was left behind, as a consequence of Castle's wound.

The man then drops you off at the streets of the intersection, where Mathilde and her soldiers had gathered around. A pair of two soldiers then strides at you and Castle and kept both of you pinned down to the asphalt ground, limiting your movement. You looked over to Castle, who was staring at you back, wearing an expression of worry, and fear.

Mathilde strolls before you and leaned forward with her hands around her back. "Caseman really sent the five of you here to clean up his mess, didn't he? Clearly, he's not sending his best." She quips. "You really should've taken my advice Marsh. We really would have let the two of you walk away if you had just co-operated.. but it doesn't matter now."

"NOEL!" Mathilde shouts while withdrawing a nickel-plated Walther PPK pistol from beneath her coat. You then see the accountant from the factory stepping forward from the crowd of soldiers to her with a stiff gait. She cocks the pistol and offers it to the accountant. "This is the moment to redeem yourself. Don't waste it, Noel."

The accountant takes the tiny pistol by its grip, and walks over to you before directing the end of the gun at your face. His hands were trembling, hesitant to fire the weapon, and his peers looked at him with judgmental eyes.

"No, don't do it.." You hear Castle yell at the accountant, "Don't you fucking dare touch her! I SWEAR TO FUCKIN' GOD!"

The accountant was visibly bothered by Castle's screams, but still kept the gun aimed at you. He then crams two of his index fingertips into the trigger guard and mutters the words "I'm sorry" to you. The next thing you see, was a bright orange flash from the barrel of the PPK, followed by a void of nothing, but black.

[TO BE CONTINUED - CHAPTER 3 TOMORROW (HOPEFULLY)]

//I schleep, zzz...

>>5707620
zam, we dead. are we changing protagonists them ?

>>5707692
//Maybe. maybe not. We'll see.

Chapter 3 - RECOMMISSIONED

[...]

A group of three armed intelligence operatives speeds through the streets of war-torn Dnipro in a black-painted Humvee in the early evening. With the sun sinking down into the horizon at a rapid pace, this unit were racing against the clock to find and recover the SOG team before dusk, as they had sent a distress message to Caseman through a burner Nokia phone given to the team leader, Axe, in the event that the operation goes awry. Luckily, Caseman had a lead on where the team may potentially be located, as the distress message also informed them of the coordinates for their last recorded position.

"Caseman, it's Winslow," An operative on the shotgun seat states into his radio, "My unit is approaching your team's position."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Keep me updated." Caseman replies from the other end.

"So, what do you guys reckon is the reason they're stuck out here?" The driver of the Humvee jokes, "You think they ran out of fuel or something?"

"It's nigh-impossible to find a functioning gas station in this shithole of a city, Ash." The operative sitting in the backseat of the Humvee retorts, his voice stifled by the tan balaclava he is wearing. "It's not that far-fetched."

The Humvee then enters the intersection where they come across the SOG team's van stuck in the wall of a building.

"Whoa, Ash, slow down." Winslow urges the driver, "Z-marked black van in that cafe up ahead. You think that's them?"

"I think that's ours, Chief." Ash replies as he presses the brake pedal down with his foot to slow the Humvee to a crawl.

"Hm, alright. Everyone get out of the car."

All three occupants hopped off from their vehicle with their guns in hand. With the sky gradually becoming darker and darker by the minute, the operatives saw it prudent to use their night-vision optics that had been mounted on their helmets, allowing them to see the world through the bluish-green-tinted lenses of their goggles. They then proceeded to move onward into the coffee shop where the van had crashed into, carefully watching every step they take.

Once they were inside, the operatives scanned their surroundings vigilantly so as to not run into a booby trap potentially set up by the SOG team. They wouldn't however find any sign of the SOG team's presence, except for a thick, dried blood trail that leads them to a staff break room behind a counter, whose door had been completely shot up. As this discovery wasn't exactly good news, the operatives stacked up on the doorway of the room, with NODs up and flashlights on. Upon entering the room, they expected the worst, and the worst had come to pass indeed.

"Caseman.. we just found your team. Got multiple casualties on-site, three KIA and two critical. One male, one female. Requesting immediate medevac."

"What was that, Captain? Repeat your last." Caseman responds, his tone tinged with confoundment.

"I say again, we've got three KIA and two critical. Requesting medevac immediately."

"Oh, dammit.." Caseman exhales, his breathing becomes heavy. "Roger that, Captain. I'm redirecting the nearest available legionnaire QRF to your position. ETA, fifteen minutes out."

"Acknowledged. Winslow out."

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[...]

In a motion that made you feel as if you had seamlessly transitioned between worlds, that void of black soon turned into walls of white. Soon, you slowly pried your eyelids open while you were gathering your senses before being greeted by a series of canvases colored in light blue facing before you. As your vision begins to clear, your eye is able to discern it as the ceiling of a certain room.

You sensed something soft cushioning the back of your entire body and a feeling of warmth that covers you all over. Glancing over your surroundings, you realize you were lying down on a hospital bed with a piece of blanket laid on top of you. On your hand was a pulse oximeter that is clamped onto your index finger tip and an intravenous tube attached to your wrist, which was constantly administering medications and nutrients into your vein. An electrocardiogram machine stood beside your bed, continuously beeping non-stop as it monitors your heart's activity through a series of leads that is applied on your chest.

“Good morning, Marsh.” A man addresses you from the side of the bed.You turned your head to where the voice was, only to find yourself not able to see the man clearly as your vision were still blurry at that distance, as well as the fact that you weren’t able to feel your right eye as you tried to squint them. You ran your fingers around the right half of your face, only to discover it had been covered by multiple layers of bandages. The man then approaches you, revealing himself to be none other than Caseman.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

>["Where am I?"]
>["Did my team get clear?"]
>[Write-in]

>>5709114
>>["Where am I?"]

>>5709114
>>["Did my team get clear?"]

>>5709114
>["Did my team get clear?"]
Punished Kate, a woman denied her revenge

>>5709114
>["Did my team get clear?"]
so, the boy missed or did he aim near our eye ?

>>5709114
>>["Did my team get clear?"]

>>5709114
>["Did my team get clear?"]
>Is my face going to be okay?

"Did my team.. get clear?" You replied weakly. No matter how hard you wracked your brain, you weren’t able to clearly remember the past events that led you here for some reason. The last thing you're able to fully recall on, was how the van crashed.

“I'm afraid not, Marsh. I'm sorry, but the only people who survived from your SOG team are Castle and you. We held a funeral for the rest of your team in Arlington, that was a month ago. No next of kin but their sacrifices will be remembered, forever immortalized in Langley's memorial wall. The three of them."

"Castle.. he survived?"

"My my, you two are like kindred spirits.” A chortle escapes from him, amused. “Yes, yes he survived. He came to a week before you and when I visited him, all that he asked me was about you. I don't blame him, you're the only one who stuck with him until the end in Ukraine."

"Is that so.. Ow!" You firmly grasp the bandaged half of your face as you feel this painful sensation pulsating from beneath the layers of dressing, before letting go shortly after the pain subsides. "Ugh, is my face going to be okay?"

"Ah yes, about that. You may have noticed that we have half of your face covered, that's because we found you with a bullet lodged up in your right eye - 32. ACP, the doctors determined. The doctors have informed me that you'll undergo short-term memory loss caused by the concussion, but they have assured me that as the bullet did not penetrate through your eye socket, there shouldn't be much cause for concern. Well, perhaps except for the loss of your vision from your eye and the occasional headaches."

"Well, that's just great. So what happened? How in hell did you find me?"

Caseman drags a nearby stool and settles down before pulling out a Nokia phone that had been besmirched with dry blood out of his suit's pocket. "I received a distress text from this burner, which I gave to Axe for use in the event that the operation goes south. After that, I dispatched a small detachment to look into your last known position only to come across your team.. or what was left of it, in the staff room of a shot-up cafe. They found you guys all neatly lined up side-by-side with pools of blood beneath you, but then they found out you and Castle were alive; hanging on just barely."

He let off a heavy sigh and crossed his legs. "Since then, we've placed you in a medically-induced coma for three months while we extracted you out of Ukraine and into Chişinău, Moldavia as this was the closest hospital we could get you to out of the country for your facial reconstruction, while we sent Castle off to a US Army hospital in Poland. It was the only way to keep you both safe. By all accounts, Marsh, you were lucky, as you really weren't supposed to be alive. That bullet should have killed you, yet here you are breathing, in the flesh. I want to believe God spared you that day for a reason, whatever that may be."

>["Keep me safe?"]
>["Somebody talked."]
>[Write-in]

>>5709583
//You're giving me too much ideas with that sentence alone.

>>5710211
>>["Keep me safe?"]

>>5710211
>>["Somebody talked."]

>>5710211
>["Somebody talked."]

>>5710211
>["Somebody talked."]

>>5710211
>["Keep me safe?"]

https://voca.ro/1QMl7dy5DNXu
---

"Somebody talked."

Caseman nods, affirming your suspicions. "Ukrainian intelligence, we think. We have reason to believe Mathilde has personnel who may have penetrated or have been brought out within the SBU to relay her information relating to the operation taking place that day. She has a network, Marsh, and the unsavory results of your operation only confirms rumors that her network has compromised intelligence agencies. In the aftermath of your mission, I've submitted a memorandum to the Director, convincing him that any and all information we have pertaining to Mathilde are to be buried or entrusted to me. Right now, the only people who care about her are in this room along with a handful of other people in my phonebook. We cannot let any outside element interfere with our work."

"What are you talking about? Are you saying you knew about her all this time?"

"The two of us, let's just say we have a shared history. It's not something I've broadcasted openly to my colleagues either. The truth is, I've been running a tight-knit operation on her behind closed doors for two years now. I had a mole within her network, but he went dark just a few days before the Polish intelligence forwarded the Directorate of Operations that CCTV capture of an NLAW heist. That was most likely a bait set up by her network in response to my mole, but I let my emotions get the best of me and lured you into a trap."

"You're telling me this just now? I've worked my ass off in the last few months chasing what my peers and superiors called a 'ghost'. People back in Langley thought I was crazy!" You lashed out at Caseman, who looked surprised upon seeing you still hold such a spunk within the confines of your hospital bed. “I could’ve helped you. But now people have died.."

"I know how you feel, Marsh, and I'm sorry. But she isn't a ghost, is she? She's real. Very much so."

>["I don't like it when you're keeping secrets from me."]
>["Do you even trust me?"]
>[Write-in]

>>5711005
>["I don't like it when you're keeping secrets from me."]

>>5711005
>>["I don't like it when you're keeping secrets from me."]

File: VBR-23.jpg (80 KB, 546x1008)

80 KB JPG

"I don't like it when you're keeping secrets from me."

"Then I'm afraid you're in the wrong line of work. Besides, there's a lot of things you don't know about me, and for good reason. It's on a need-to-know basis, which you don't." Caseman giggles jokingly to break up the tension before leaning forward from his stool as he straightens his lips. "Look, we don't know exactly how vast Mathilde's network is. It's why I opted to keep things behind the curtain. But even so, it seems there are cracks in the walls when my mole went off the grid after two years of being in the network. No goodbye texts, no distress messages, nothing, just gone. There's a chance that the CIA, the NSA or even the DHS may have been infiltrated. We couldn't trust anyone with intelligence on Mathilde, but now I know I can trust you."

"You sound paranoid. Why are you even here, Caseman?"

"I'd like to recommission you, Marsh, into the Special Activities Center as a Paramilitary Operations Officer. It's a chance for you to make a fresh start. I know you're not pursuing Mathilde to further your own career, but because you are doing this for the sake of your country; a patriot. Frankly, I could use more people like that.”

"Patriot.. Don’t give me that shit. There are many others like me in Langley and D.C. Veteran ex-special forces, stuck in a boring desk job chasing leads behind a computer screen." You retorted Caseman's offer, scoffing. “You should seek them out instead.”

"I’m asking you this because you're special, Marsh. You're aware of how much of a threat Mathilde poses to our homeland and her interests. Nobody back in HQ at large has her in their radar, but you do. Why go back to Langley after and continue being an analyst, scrutinizing every dead end and red herrings in a cubicle on your own while your colleagues mock you for looking like a fool, when you could be in my team with resources and manpower enough to actually affect Mathilde and make a difference for once? Think of your work back in the states and Dnipro as an entrance exam to my task force; you've passed the test. Now all you have to do, is just say yes or no.”

>[Accept - Join Caseman’s ‘task force’]
>[Refuse - Don’t join Caseman’s ‘task force’]

//WHAT YOU CHOOSE DECIDES THE FATE OF THE ENTIRE QUEST - PICK WISELY (or not, if you guys hate me that much ;()

>>5711132
>[Accept - Join Caseman’s ‘task force’]
>>5711133
if somehow anons opted out, would you find a way to bring us back or we'd go batman mode ?

>>5711132
>>[Accept - Join Caseman’s ‘task force’]
For revenge and a new fiancee

>>5711132
>>[Accept - Join Caseman’s ‘task force’]

>>5711393
//Uhhhhhhhhhh

>>5711514
Erm, based?

>>5711132
>[Accept - Join Caseman’s ‘task force’]

File: VBR-24.jpg (253 KB, 977x454)

253 KB JPG

Your ears perked up upon hearing the words 'task force', as it had piqued your interest. Out of curiosity, you've decided to inquire more about it.

"What task force are you talking about exactly?"

"A darker-than-black operations direct action unit, with virtually unlimited funding diverted from the CIA's annual black budget. Manpower to carry out field operations is about four people, five if you join. The only people aware of its existence outside of the wire is only you and the director. We don't have a name for it yet though, so we're still working on that front."

"What about intelligence on Mathilde?"

Caseman grinned upon hearing your question. He knows that if you were to pose any interest in this matter, you had only accepted his offer in a roundabout way. He then withdraws a manila folder from his satchel bag that had been on the floor and passes it onto you. “We do not have a definitive intel on her whereabouts. but we may have a decent enough lead to pick up on."

Upon inspection, the cover of the folder bore the logo of the National Reconnaissance Office and beneath it was the name "KH-11 KENNEN (L-71)". You then feebly opened the folder, revealing a set of photos taken from the sky, depicting a group of people in a jungle encampment somewhere.

"A reconnaissance satellite took these photos in the jungle of Eastern Colombia near the Venezuelan border five weeks ago. We suspect this meeting to be an arms deal between a FARC rebel cell led by a commander the Colombians call "Poison", and Mathilde's network. My task force has confirmed this is Mathilde, and they had been tracking her activities throughout South America, but her trail suddenly went cold in Brazil. FARC's attacks on the Colombian military have gotten more and more bolder since this meeting took place. If you manage to capture Poison and make him sing, he might just give us a clue as to where she is.”

You lowered the folder down and exhaled deeply. Somewhere deep inside you, a fire had reignited; one of hatred, a desire for revenge. You closed your eye shut and quietly vowed to yourself: That you will, one day, bring Mathilde down for good no matter the cost.

"Fine.." You uttered as you opened your eye before pivoting your gaze to Caseman. "I'll do it."

---
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DPAUVmJHss
---

[ARC 1 END - TO BE CONTINUED]

SOURCES

ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS BY:
-Keitaro Takahashi (Original Work: Jormungand)
-Rei Hiroe (Original Work: Black Lagoon)
-Josh Taylor (Original Work: Black Powder Red Earth)
-Suzuki Tadamoto (Original Work: RED SUN Inc.)
-Boom Diggity (@kenzarts1)
-Gugyun (@gugyun_00)
-Tudou_jun (@jun_tudou)
-Harold Zhang (@migrainzxxl)

ORIGINAL MUSIC BY:
-Cliff Martinez (Original Work: Contagion)
-Taku Iwasaki (Original Work: Jormungand Original Soundtrack / Shin Kamen Rider Music Collection)

MISCELLANEOUS MEDIA:
-Escape From Tarkov RAID (2019-2021, Battlestate Games)
-Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022, Activision & Infinity Ward)
-Ghost Recon Alpha (2012, Ubisoft)
-Zero Dark Thirty (2012, Sony)

File: IMG_03.jpg (1.06 MB, 1585x1036)

1.06 MB JPG

That concludes the quest's 1st arc for this thread. Thanks to everyone who stuck 'till the end! If you have any thoughts, questions as well as suggestions, don't be shy to forward them to me! It's the only way I can improve this quest in the future. If you wish to contact me, I'm available in /qtg/ Discord. Cheers!

-K

>>5712493
Great start. Next thread when?

>>5712510
Short answer: When It's Ready™

Long answer: I currently have a lot of things in my plate right now so not anytime soon. However I can assure you Arc 2 begins before 2024 comes around. Hopefully I can get it started around end of July-August with it at its latest being around November. Vengeance Burns Red is a pet project of mine that I've been conceptualizing for a few months now and there is no way I'm letting it go to waste.

VENGEANCE BURNS RED - ARC ONE, NOW ON THE ARCHIVES.
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5687015/

>>5712493
Thanks for running. I do have a critique. Feels like things are too railroaded and our choices don't really have much weight on what happens.

>>5712550
That is something that has been brought up by a few friends of mine, so I'm hoping I'll be able to rectify that issue with the next thread. My apologies!

>>5712493
interesting quest, OP. as someone who haven't read the manga how much of this is based on it ? also do you plan on making a twitter to notify us when the 2nd part is ready ?

>>5713607
There are no plans to create a Twitter account for this quest at the moment. I'll probably when the second part is going to begin over at the /qtg/ server.

>>5714373
*announce when the second part is going to begin, Christ.

>>5714373
you're there ? neat. what's your username ?

>>5714488
The same name I use in this thread.