Thread: New Orders (Razgriz x moonlit raven)

Three trucks were traveling slowly down a dirt road deep in the heart of the Colombian jungles it was sweltering at 95 degrees with eighty percent humidity. The ten soldiers inside each of the trucks, armed with varying automatic assault rifles, automatic shotguns and light machine guns, were helping to guard a very important package. The crime boss 'El Rey' had ordered a girl from an online service. Some troops wondered why they needed to have such protection just for a girl they were now taking dirt naps. Conductor, cuando llegamos a la fortaleza? Quemo en aqu! Driver, when are we going to arrive at the stronghold? I'm burning up in here! one soldier asked there was a slight pause before the driver then responded Temprano, temprano. S paciente. Soon, soon. Be patient. The rest of the soldiers were silent, dead as stone, each of them carrying their own scars of battle over the years they fought for the honor of 'El Rey'. They focused on the mission above all others and their mission was to transport the girl in the box. However, one lone man was following them he'd been tracking them for a couple of weeks now. Dressed in a custom-fashioned ghillie suit for the unique vegetation pattern of the Columbian ecosystem, this was one Marcus Altar Redwin, codename 'Hawkeye' for this assignment. His combat boots treaded lightly through the dense brush and foliage of this sub-tropical terrain as he kept after the transport. He was a CIA agent, one of the best. 'El Rey' was 1 on the CIA 'Dead' list meaning this guy was going to die today, for that was this man's orders. Kill every hostile at the fortress and take the girl to extraction with him. He carried on his back the tool that would bring 'El Rey' down for good A Cheytac M200 Intervention sniper rifle, fitted with custom-made 20 round magazines loaded with armor-piercing .408 Cheytac rounds, a specialized muzzle brake that eliminated the flash, and 20x variable zoom optics. His secondary weapon was a M9 double-action pistol fitted with a suppressor and loaded with high-velocity round, strapped to his thigh. A combatsurvival knife was strapped to a boot holster for CQC. He also carried other equipment on bandolier straps over his ghillie suit concussion grenades across his broad chest, claymores on his waist, pouches for his magazines and other various things one would need in the battlefield. Under that ghillie suit was a powerfully built man, standing an even six feet tall, possessing chocolate-brown hair in a military 'jarhead' cut. Piercing blue eyes that stared from under the hood of the ghillie suit spoke volumes about his track record this was a man who killed and never, ever flinched. The scar over his left eye and another that was in a crescent moon shape down the right side of his face. And while no one would see it, his body was a storyboard of self-reliance and a dangerous attitude. His superiors ordered radio silence until he'd reached the destination, so he just tracked them like a hunter would its prey. The trucks approached a very heavy set of gates it was here Marcus split from his path to take up a new position. Marcus eventually reached his destination a very narrow outcropping of rock overlooking the fortress. It was the ideal position thick trees covered his body and rifle, and the canyon walls around would make backtracking the report of the rifle next to impossible. He had set some of his claymores behind him just in case anyone happened to stumble across his location no sense in taking an unnecessary risk. Quickly setting up the rifle, he loaded a fresh magazine, but didn't push the bolt in. He took a special bullet from a back pocket and chambered the round this one was an anti-personnel round meant for 'El Rey' himself. He then used an invisible laser rangefinder and quickly made several notes. After making some quick adjustments to the zoom factor, windage and bullet drop compensators in his scope, he pressed the butt of the rifle into his massive shoulder and peered down the sight. He was pretty far away from the fortress itself, but his scope let him see every detail as if he were standing right in front of it. Ten guards in the courtyard, three snipers on the roof, who knows how many more inside, and El Rey himself. Taking a hand-held radio, he called in his location, the baritone nature of his voice becoming apparent. Big Papa, this is Hawkeye. Reporting arrival at Overwatch Alpha, over. There was a moment of static before a crackling was heard and a lighter voice replied, Roger, Hawkeye. Give us a sitrep, over. Marcus watched as the soldiers and cargo were unloaded from the trucks ammunition crates, boxes of miscellaneous supplies, and finally one bright-red crate that stood out from the rest. The transport's just entering the compound now. I count thirty armed soldiers and one red crate leaving the trucks. Ten guards already present in courtyard, three snipers on the roof. Confirm red wooden crate with Columbian flag insignia possessing an overlay of a skull wearing a crown as target, Big Papa. Over Roger, Hawkeye. That's the one. Remember, it's weapons free on all hostiles. Watch your fire around the girl, Hawkeye. She's a civvie, so it's weapons off for her. I know the drill, Big Papa. Hawkeye out. Marcus then set himself back behind his rifle, knowing that he was perfectly camouflaged from prying enemy eyes and guns.