The large transport plane was on a northern heading towards the Korean demilitarised zone, the plane seemed completely inconspicuous without any markings to signify its owner. The plane in fact belonged to the mercenary Corporation ExOps and was carrying a group of it’s operatives into the nearby war zone. It was flying low but still high enough for a safe but quick para drop as the Plane was not going to get authorised to land in North Korea.
The Mercenaries inside of the plane sat on the seats built into the side of the fuselage, each of them had been issued the equipment for the mission. They had been given the Sat-com gear with earpiece so they could stay in contact with ExOps even in the middle of the war zone, a deck of playing cards with the faces of the 52 bounties printed on them and a PDA.
Caesar Angelo was sitting holding the deck of cards in his hand shuffling them like a seasoned gambler. This job was one of the most difficult he would be involved in as they were being sent to the most dangerous place on Earth.
“O.K Guy.” The familiar Voice of Fiona Taylor announced through the earpieces of all the Mercenaries. “You’re almost over the DMZ so get ready to jump down.”
“Well let’s get this party started.” Caesar stated with his strong Italian accent and pulling out his camera ready for the photo opportunities.
Keun nodded. He unholstered his Beretta and checked the clip, and continued down his list of gear, running a checklist in his head. It wouldn't do for payback time to get cut short because he didn't have his knife. He then pulled on his parachute.
"You're taking a camera onto the battlefield? You think the Norths are gonna pose for your shots?"
Keun sighed, finishing his checklist. "Which card are we going after first?"
Conan looked over the rest of the mercs as they prepared to drop, casually adjusting a clip into his Assault Rifle. He ran down a list of equipment in his mind, and ran his fingers over the hand grenades and assorted explosives stationed at his belt - he was going in with as much firepower as needed.
He glanced up at Keun's question, noticing with raised eyebrows the camera he had pulled out of his bag. His gaze shifted to the Italian sitting across from him for a second, and then he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.
Sullivan took one last drag from his cigarette and put it out. Eyeing the other members of the party wondering how he had gotten caught up with these men. He had experienced his share of combat. Sierra Leone, Angola, Sudan, Somalia, Liberia...but nothing was like this. So many different factions, all wanting to get a piece of the action. Sullivan loved Africa because Africa is tameless. But nothing can be compared to the chaos he was about to enter.
"Is it cold in North Korea?" He asked.
"Temperate zone. It stays between about twenty and eighty, reaching it's height in July and then dropping until January. Like clockwork. You don't have to worry about snow much, though. It never seems to rain when it's cold here." He'd been keeping his eye on the region for a while, although most of his knowledge more almanac than strategic.
Nancy would usually have a jumpmaster for this, it was always done out of hand during and after her time in the NSA and was a requirement in the military. This time however she would have dismissed one if ExOps had sent one on the plane. She glanced at the cabin, knowing it would be no better flying herself given what anti air the North Koreans would have.
"Sergeant Allen, this is Fiona from ExOps." Nancy put a hand to her ear so she could heard the Australian over the roar of the plane.
"I'm here." She turned back to her viewscreen.
"How's your son?" Fiona asked, trying to strike up a conversation. The former Ranger didn't answer for a moment, paranoia setting in on who might be listening.
"He's being looked after," was all she was willing to offer.
"What about that girl you're training?" Nancy allowed a smile, guessing she would want to ask about a mate.
"In trouble with the law, again." She looked around a bit, as though trying to find who might be listening. "Did exactly what I would have done but no matter how strongly you feel you cannot hold a gun on someone." The plane was empty however, no one coming with her. That suited Nancy, no one would have to pay if something went wrong.
"Listen, were close, you might want to get your gear together for the drop." Nancy stood up to her full 195cm height and glared around the cargo hold. Her equipment was already stored in a metal case that will go out with her, but she went to see what ExOps provided her with anyway. "Have you checked out your PDA yet?" Fiona asked.
"Looking at the cards now." Nancy resumed looking through the information on each member on the deck of fifty two. "Hope the intel is good on this thing, you won't be getting much out or corpses."
"Remember, you get double the bounty if they are brought in alive." Like that made a difference to Nancy.
"Money doesn't help me sleep at night."
"Then think of your son," Fiona suggested. Nancy slid the PDA into her vest and went in search of a weapon.
"CIA probably is already." She pulled out the Carbine assault rifle from the rack.
"I know it's not state of the art," Fiona told her. The gun looked like a kid's toy, despite knowing how useful it was from Afghanistan and Iraq.
"Would prefer one of your Styer AUGs," Nancy replied, preferring the bullpup rifle used by the Australian armed forces, especially fitted with a silencer and scope, "but this'll do the job fine." Close by were grenades, which Nancy began to clip to her assault pack.
"Standered issue frag grenades." The metal spheres were small and deadly, making the Canadian slightly uncomfortable carting them around.
"These will definitely be useful," she replied. As soon as she was done the pilot came over the radio.
"This is Blackbird, DMZ is in visual range." As opposed to the other mercenaries in the area Nancy had instead chosen to go with a HALO jump rather than bailing out in an armoured jeep. It might be less glamorous but unquestionably safer in her mind.
"You heard the man, time to get going." Nancy went over to the lever that dropped the rear platform and easily muscled it down, keeping her footing at the sudden wind blast and loss in pressure. "You ready Nancy?" Fiona asked. Nancy spent a moment looking out into the darkness.
"One way to find out." She kicked the crate out and over the edge.
"They say the DMZ's the most dangerous place on Earth." Nancy took that into consideration but chose instead to hide any fears she had behind a bit of bravado.
"Don't get syrupy on me. I've dealt with the media after Abu Ghraib, this will be easy." Fiona wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so brought up the bounty for Song.
"Still, a hundred million dollars. You think you can spend that much money in a lifetime?" It was a lot of money, to be sure, and a question Nancy couldn't answer.
"Ask George Lucas." With that she took a running jump and flew out the back, wind billowing about her as she began to descend to the ground.
Tenchi sighed as he was loading buckshots into his Remington 870 Shotgun. Slugs were his prefered ammo for the shotgun, but the terrain, being very hilly and mountainous, since they were heading into North Korea, was more preferable for buckshot ammo, so he kept his slugs in reserve. He finished loading, pumping the shotgun, he slung it under his arm and let it hang vertically next to his parachute and pack.
He patted his right hip, where he felt the holster holding his suped-up Desert Eagle. He patted his left hip feeling his MP5K Submachine Gun dangling loosely at his side. He nodded in satisfaction while reaching over to an empty seat at his left, picking up his Combat Knife he looked it over before placing it in it's sheathe on his right boot.
He took one last moment to feel on the round objects dangling from his belt. They were grenades, two frags, a flashbang, and an incendiary grenade, all compliments of ExOps. He personally didn't enjoy carrying explosives around on his body, but they had made a very 'insistent' point about taking the grenades.
“O.K Guy.” The familiar Voice of Fiona Taylor announced through the earpieces of all the Mercenaries. “You’re almost over the DMZ so get ready to jump down.”
“Well let’s get this party started.” Caesar the Italian man said. Tenchi looked over in his direction, he grinned as he saw the man take out his camera.
"You're taking a camera onto the battlefield? You think the Norths are gonna pose for your shots?" Tenchi chuckled at the comment that the Korean-American stated.
"Which card are we going after first?" The man asked next.
"My guess is the first to show their ugly head," Tenchi replied with a smile, you could tell he was Japanese from his speech alone.
Tenchi got up out of his seat, grabbing an overhead handlebar, like the Australian said, they were going to jump soon, real soon, he could feel it...no seriously, he could feel the plane quickly slowing to a safe speed for paradropping. "Hey, Caesar, make sure you get my good side," he said to the Italian with a humorous grin, while pointing at the right side of his face where he didn't have any scars.
The entire ride in, Abigail Engel had been silent. Then, as people began to move, prepping for the quick ditch out of their transportation, she moved forward, tapping the Italian with the camera on the shoulder. Mimicking his accent perfectly, she teased, "Don't stop too long for the scenery..." Then, switching into fluent Italian, she added, "... though with you being along on this trip, I don't take you for that much of an idiot."
She leaned back just in time to hear the question of who they'd go for first and the Japanese man's response. With a short chuckle, she nodded and in a 'blended-accented' English, she agreed, "First to show up, yes. Most likely, one of the less intelligent targets."
"Temperate zone. It stays between about twenty and eighty, reaching it's height in July and then dropping until January. Like clockwork. You don't have to worry about snow much, though. It never seems to rain when it's cold here."
"Ah, no worries mate. I could use a climate change after all." He replied.
Sullivan watched the Japanese man stand up and decided to stay sitting for a while longer and relax. Africa was a large place and parachute drops were typical for him. No use trying to manuver through jungle and large savannahs but it didn't bother him if he needed to. This was much different though, but he kept his calm and went through a mental checklist of equipment to keep his mind of it.
The largo cargo ramp began to slowly lower as Caesar finished making sure his parachute was on tight. He walked over to the edge and looked down at the demilitarised zone, he could see explosions down below him from the constant fighting that had turned the whole province into a battlefield.
Angelo turned around and looked at the rest of the group. “Last one down buys the drinks.”
With that Ceasar dived out of the plane and began to soar downwards towards the ground.
Keun whistled. He didn't do this very often, most of his previous work had been stateside. Best to just wing it.
He jumped out after Angelo, pulling his chute after five seconds.
I'm not buying anyone anything.
And with that thought, Conan was down, jumping out and pulling his chute to begin the stunning trip down.
Abby Engel laughed softly at the Italian's statement. It wasn't that she really cared... she'd been with ExOps long enough that money wasn't an issue any longer. Bragging rights perhaps, and some sort of ego maybe... but it hardly mattered. She jumped.
Abby had made the trip down to earth by parachute too many times already for it to be thrilling any longer. Now, it was a time she reserved for mental preparation that she had gone over already many times. One more time never hurt... unless you had no time for it.
"When time is nowhere to be had, go with what you've got," Abby murmured in German. And that was how she operated.
Tenchi laughed at the comment of buying drinks, as he seemed to be the last one out.
"Guess I'm buying," he murmured with a chuckle before running forward and out of the plane. He closed his eyes as and smiled as he felt the wind rushing past him.
"Guess I'm buying"
He heard the Japanese man say as he leaped out.
"Nope, that would probably be me." Sullivan muttered to himself apathetically. He would much rather be buying them all drinks right now then this. Still sitting down as the Japanese man leaped, he quickly followed suit.
Caesar landed first softly on the ground, he was an experienced paratrooper so knew exactly when was the right time to deploy the chute for the quickest but still safe landing. The Chute itself was a standard military issue and completely black with no marking to show the group its wearer was affiliated with.
The drop point was just south of the Allied Nations base in the demiliterzed zone, Caesar managed to land on target and watched the others fall behind him. It wasn’t long before the sound of engines could be heard in the distance, Caesar took out his camera and used the zoom function to get a closer look at the oncoming vehicles.
Through the lens he saw that the oncoming cars were armed with large machine guns on top and the occupants were North Korean Troops. The gunnesr could be seen firing the large weapons and the gun flared as bullets began to fly towards Caesar’s location. A bullet whizzed past his ear so he quickly took a picture and drew his pistol shooting in the direction of the Korean vehicle.
“Incoming!” Caesar shouted to the rest of the mercenaries. “Take Cover!”
Keun's reflexes kicked in on impact as he rolled to absorb the impact. He pulled his knife, cutting his 'chute lines and slipping out from under it.
The heavy thumping of machine guns shattered the silence. "Wouldn't have done to have a decent insertion. Wonderful." Keun slipped over a short ridge, looking for Caesar. It didn't take too long, he could see the Italian getting shot at, also explaining where the machine guns came from.
He noticed they all seemed to be focusing their fire in the Italian man's direction. He nodded and began taking a long way around, moving to take them from behind. He began screwing the suppressor onto his pistol.
In his small set of quarters, Max looked at the two fully assembled rifles on his bed. This was going to be an aerial insertion, and Max knew that weight was going to be a critical factor. At the same time, if he landed in a hot zone, he knew that his bolt-action TPG rifle was going to hinder him greatly which meant that the AK-47 would be a much better choice. Then again, the Kalashnikov rifle wasn't exactly a very accurate rifle, neither, and if they landed quietly, the AK was going to be a severe hindrance once he needed to put rounds at any distance greater than 500 meters.
Well, I guess I'll take the risk. If the zone is hot, it'll just have to cool down eventually, Max thought to himself as he walked over to his bed. Picking up the TPG-1 rifle, Max attached the shoulder strap to the rifle and prepared it for the drop.
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Sitting at the far end of the cargo hold, Max watched calmly as he studied the other mercenaries on the drop. Most of the mercenaries were like him: older and experienced. For Max, that was a good thing. The last thing he wanted was some green gung-ho recruit to muck things up by trying to be a hero. For Max, there was no such thing as a hero; instead, there were only dead men and those left alive.
Taking glances at the weaponry, Max shook his head a bit. Sure, these people were experienced, but none of them had a surgically precise rifle like his German-made TPG-1. That meant that if these people needed a long range scout, they were likely to look in his direction. Unfortunately, it also meant that he was going to be working at long ranges without a spotter. That was going to make things a bit more difficult, but he had done it several times before.
If anybody had looked over at him, they would've noticed that he wasn't wearing his ghillie suit. With all of the loose strands and frayed edges, a ghillie suit was not the ideal attire for an aerial drop. It could be done, but the suit would've likely been missing the frays that were essential for the camouflage to work. Instead, the ghillie suit was neatly packed away in a pack in front of him. Also in the pack was several emergency supplies and extra ammunition for the TPG as well as the .40 caliber pistol that was strapped to his waist.
Finally, the call for the drop went out, and the mercenaries lined up for the drop. Grabbing hold of the handle above him, Max waited as the other mercenaries dropped out of the back of the plane. Finally, Max was the only one left, and he took a deep breath. Always did hate these jumps, Max thought to himself. With a couple of quick strides, Max leapt off the edge of the ramp.
Stretching himself out vertically, Max quickly gained speed as he dove towards the ground. Watching his altimeter, Max then flared horizontally to slow down. Finally reaching his desired altitude, Max pulled the rip cord. After about a second, Max was oriented forwards as the chute rapidly slowed him down. Checking his location, Max noticed that he was slightly off target.
Grabbing the control handles, Max did his best to control his decent, and he made a soft landing right inside the predetermined point. Moving quickly, Max reached behind him and grabbed the rigging lines for his chute. Working quickly, Max pulled his chute to the ground so that it wouldn't catch the wind and fly upwards to give away their position.
Then, Max heard the call from Caesar to take cover. Hearing gun fire, Max quickly removed the pack and the safety gear for the parachute. Getting behind a nearby tree, Max pulled his main pack along with him. Reaching behind him, Max unshouldered his rifle and brought it to bear towards the direction of the gunfire as he switched off the safety.
Sullivan landed softly and disconnected his parachute. That's when he started hearing the gunfire.
"Business as usual." He grumbled to himself while cocking his gun.
It seemed as though his comrades already had a plan of action. He decided to let them do their work while lying prone and providing some covering fire.
Conan did not flinch as the trucks came roaring toward them, preceded by sprays of bullets. Crouching down a bit, he calmly raised his G36 and unloaded on the vehicles. The act did not accomplish much, but it didn't matter. Conan reached down to his belt and grabbed a grenade, looking over at Caesar to catch his eye.
"Watch it," he said slowly.