SIERRA: Morgan Remington' Story

Before I continue, I'd like to take a moment to explain that Morgan James Remington is actually a squad mate of mine from when I was in the Marines. We used to play Halo in our off time. Now that I've been honorably discharged(I got hit by a rock when a grenade exploded and it messed up my vision really bad), he sends me video mails talking about "all the fun I'm missing out on" (the prick).

This story is mainly science fiction. So, don't expect any real events, but there are some real people.

Also, this may look similar to my buddy, Xendane's work, that's because we both share a passion for literature, and we both read one too many Splinter Cell books.

Also, a reference picture to what Morgan described these guys to look like: http://public4.tektek.org/img/av/0907/d08/0927/2e38759.png

Now let's begin.

~~~~~

SIERRA: Morgan Remington's Story

Prologue: Enter Sierra 1

Morgan would easily admit he wasn't a professional at much, just as he would easily admit he'd never fired a gun at all in his life up until the time he entered the Marines. Harsh training courses and even worse drill sergeants usually left him trying to figure out how a pistol worked so he could possibly kill himself. Of course, since he had never actually fired a gun, he usually ended up somehow taking out the clip and smacking himself in the face with it.

A good friend of Morgan's, Captain Jason Haley, said that boot camp, if you weren't particularly good at it, would easily take you a long time to finally complete. Jason had said he'd only been there for the better part of about six days when he was thrown into his first battle after the incidents of the first Terran Wars. Now that he was out of the military, Morgan wondered if he could accomplish the same thing. So far? Well, he wasn't doing very good at it.

Early morning, about six o' clock, the drill sergeant would enter the bunkers and have his two assistants take hoses and spray anybody who didn't immediately wake up when ordered to. Morgan, who was a heavy sleeper, got the full blast every single time.

Sergeant Greene. Not a nice man at all.

Every day, from six in the morning to seven in the evening, Morgan and his bunker mates would suffer through training courses that left him bloody, bruised, and very much tired. Each evening, after training, when Morgan wished everything could be quiet, there would be loud party going on behind him while he checked his video mail, and people kept getting in the way when he tried to send one to Jason back home. The responses he got were some of the biggest slaps in the face he'd ever had.

"Hey, who was the kid with the tattoos giving you bunny ears?"

"I'm glad my bunk mates weren't like yours..."

"Man, you make my life in boot camp seem boring, what with all the noise."

At least Morgan thought they were b*tch slaps from over the net.

Today, however, the video mail Morgan got was from somebody else he knew: Sergeant Major Dusti Thompson of the Roughnecks, which, if one knew their history, was originally a group of three people, all of whom now infamous for their deeds, but was now an entire regiment of men and women twice as capable as any of the marines in training, and twice as efficient as any strike team. Aside from GHOST Elites, that was.

The message was that Dusti was to relay a message from the Roughneck's regiment leader, Former Master Chief Petty Officer Jason Matroya, and the message was: "Hang in there, kid. I see you becoming a real hot shot in the Roughnecks someday."

That made Morgan feel better as he slowly fell asleep. A legend like Jason Matroya, telling him that he could possibly be special?

Dude. Awesome.
~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. Master Chief Petty Officer is one of the highest officer ranks in the Navy. Jason Matroya was a Naval Officer before he got transferred by the General to the Marines. The excuse? "They could use a good ass-kicking." Nowadays, he's technically a Battalion General, but people still call him "The Chief" or "Master Chief" or "MCPO".

2. Jason Matroya is also not a real person. He's a hero in Jason's stories, though.

3. Dusti Thompson as Sergeant Major of the Marines is sort of true. He's actually just a Sergeant Major. In this story, that's a bit different, but I never saw how that effected a soldier in combat.

Hope you enjoy reading.

 

Looks good so far, man. Keep this up, I'm interested as to what kind of material Morgan can create in his head... And whether or not I'll enjoy editing it...

 

Well, you asked for it...

Chapter 1: Let's Begin

Another boring day of training routines was about to begin for Morgan as he ran to get in line before the drill sergeant got outside. Any screw ups, and they usually ended up running around the 500 yard training facility. It was a big facility, yes, but surprisingly enough, not a lot of rookie Marines were trained there.

Morgan was met with a surprise when he saw not Sergeant Greene, but Master Chief Petty Officer Jason Matroya approach the line. He had one of the most sour looks on his face since Morgan had that veteran from the Alciudad war. Jason's family weren't people to screw around with; It was rumored that they could make a hardened Russian War General cry, and that in itself was a feat to behold. Those guys in Russia weren't known for crying...

"Welcome to day thirteen of your stay in hell, ladies. My name's going to be Sergeant Greene for today, and I'll be taking his place as your drill officer. Now then, let's set some ground rules: There will be no whining, no crying, no laughing, no talking, no nothing, unless I give you the go signal. You will start every sentence and end every sentence with 'sir'. I am not your friend, nor am I your enemy. You will speak loudly enough for this entire line to hear. If any of you try and get out of training, you're going to find yourselves walking home with lashes. If you think my methods are too harsh, then I have a nice little knitting set for you to work on. Are we clear?"

Morgan had never met such a strict person before, and hear he had heard that Jason was one of the most laid back people in the Marines. Whatever the case, Morgan didn't feel like ending up with lashes, and looking at the metal baton at Jason's hip made him cringe. He, along with the other rookies who valued their backsides, replied with a resounding "Sir, yes sir!"

"Good," Jason said, shifting his weight to his left leg. "Now, we'll begin. In five minutes, you had better have completed two hundred push ups. If you can't do that, then you're out of here. Start... now!"

Five minutes. Two hundred push ups. Somebody in the heavens must hate rookies, thought Morgan as sweat fell from his dark red face as he rounded the one hundredth push up with still three minutes left. In three minutes, Morgan had to force his weak and tired arms to complete another hundred push ups. There was no doubt that by the time he was done with basic training, his group would be some of the most ripped people in the Marines.

Finally, after what seemed like five hours, he completed his last push up and collapsed on the ground, his face covered in dirt as he struggled to get back to his feet. He looked up slightly and saw a pair of dirty combat boots right in front of him.

"Tired already, Miss?" came the voice that was a disembodied Jason Matroya. Morgan looked up to see Jason staring back down at him with crossed arms and a cocked eyebrow. One of his gloved hands grabbed Morgan by the back of the shirt and deftly lifted him back to his feet, then shoved him back into line. He looked around to see many of his other squad mates laying on the ground, not sure how to react to such intense training, and the day had only started.

"As you can see, ladies, some of you can handle the pressure, and some of you might as well be sitting at home eating potato chips and watching porno movies. Remington would not be one of those people." Jason pointed a thumb in Morgan's direction as the others in his squad slowly got back up and stood in line.

Morgan didn't like to have his head in the clouds; it made him look bad and screwed around with his actions. But this was something he let himself silently feel proud of. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to have a higher power actually use him as an example of what people should strive for.

But, the day wasn't over yet.

Jason forced them into an obstacle course he made himself. It looked nigh-impossible to complete, but those who still had any energy from the push ups from hell fought their way through the heavy netting, the chicken wires, the freshly-watered mud, the hand-bicycle zip line, the land mines, and even the guy on the machine gun turret shooting paint balls at them. At the end of the course, Morgan looked like he just got back from Germany during WW2. He, along with a rather muscular person named Hunter Rose, was one of the first people to complete the course. They were met by a smiling Jason Matroya with a stopwatch.

"Well done; you almost beat my second grade record of twenty-five minutes and thirty-three seconds."

...a sarcastically smiling Jason Matroya with a stopwatch.

The next challenge: an unarmed fight against Jason. Joy.

Morgan was first. He put up a good fight, but his street combat skills were no match for Jason's mix of Sambo, Krav Maga, Capoeria, and Jujitsu, which left him on the ground gasping for air. Jason was a bit winded himself, but he quickly recovered, rolled his head around to pop his neck back in place, and cracked his knuckles. "Not bad, rookie. You almost cut my lip." Jason wiped his face and looked at his hand. "In fact, you did cut my lip." A line of blood ran down Jason's dusted face. Morgan almost gave a thumbs up, but he was still struggling to get air into his lungs, which he was sure now had a fist-shaped mark on them.

Not everybody else had the same experience as he did. One person, who went by the name Wolf, almost got Jason to the ground, but Jason picked him up and literally cracked his spine over his knee. Another person, Julie Diaz, bum rushed Jason and sent him to the ground, then was met with both his boots in her face, which sent her flying into Morgan, who had finally regained his breathing, and now had it knocked back out of him. Hunter Rose managed to hold out against Jason for a second longer than Morgan, but he made the mistake of trying to grab Jason in a choke hold and was met with Jason's elbow to his gut, over, and over, and over again. Morgan and Wolf ran into the arena, helped Hunter to his feet, and walked him back to the line, where he used their shoulders to stay upright.

"Not bad. You guys are making me think twice about calling you ladies. Except for the ladies, there's no changing that title. I can't very well call you men, exactly, now can I?" Jason said, hands on his hips. He had a point; it was rather awkward to be called a man if you were actually a woman. Unless you happened to be people like Julie, who could probably throw Morgan through the barracks and into the Sergeant's quarters.

Jason dismissed the group, but as Morgan turned to leave, he was told to stay. Morgan noticed Hunter, Wolf and Julie were also still in line. Jason took off his cap, dusted it off on his pant leg, then addressed the four.

"You guys showed some real skill out there today. It's obvious you're more than just Marine material. If you guys keep this kind of endurance, strength, and speed up, I might just have a little chat with the higher ups to have you put in my regiment. That said, you still have some work to do. Now then, get some rest. Tomorrow, Satan's going to be paying a visit." Jason turned and walked off, and the four rookies went towards the barracks.

"Hey, Morgan, you did pretty good today. For a newcomer," Hunter said, slapping Morgan in the back, causing him to stumble.

"Yeah, you weren't too bad yourself, rookie," he replied, smacking Hunter in the back of the head. Friendly fighting was common amongst the rookies, and sometimes against the veterans, so the four new friends were used to it. It was combat like earlier that left them heated.

As they entered the room, Morgan walked over to his bed and promptly fell face first into the pillow that felt like a rock. He probably would have remained like that, had he not been b*tch slapped by a hand holding a letter from an anonymous writer. Morgan looked up. A head full of short red hair covered by a white beret with two bright blue eyes stared back down at him with an amused grin. Samuel "Torro" Martins, the smart *ss of the group, was somebody Morgan had met on his first day. They got along fairly well, except for some arguments here and there. Sam always wore a white beret. The drill officers had finally given up trying to get him to take the thing off. He was stubborn enough that there was nothing they could do to make him obey orders he didn't feel like obeying. Jason had made no effort to acknowledge Sam's existence during the day, knowing that doing so would result in a bad day. Worse than he was already having.

"Here you go. Don't worry, mommy and daddy didn't send this," Sam said as he read the look of are you serious? on Morgan's face. This drew laughter from the others. Morgan chuckled and kicked Sam in the back as he was walking away, causing him to fall flat on his face, sending his beret flying. It landed quite nicely in the trash bin nearby. Morgan thought it was a good shot.

"Ah, you *sshole! Now this thing's got sh*t all over it!" Sam complained as he pulled his beret out of the trash with his index finger and thumb.

Morgan laughed and read the letter. The "anonymous" writer was really bad at hiding his name, as he knew the obvious misspelling of Miles Kerrigan's name. The letter told him nothing new; life was still boring, nothing fun was happening that he should know of. Morgan rolled his eyes and tucked the letter into his bag, then fell asleep, hoping tomorrow wouldn't be as bad as today was for him. Any more push ups, and he might have started fiddling with that pistol again.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. In my opinion, 200 push ups in five minutes was a lot worse than I made it sound.

2. Miles Kerrigan is in no way related to Lt. Sarah Kerrigan from Starcraft. Just so you know.

3. Sam Martins appears in Battle Vendetta as a rather snobby British sniper who thoroughly enjoys pissing me off. Several times in that story, I have ended up bashing him in the face with my elbow after I took a shot at something because he was too stupid to get the hell out of the way.

4. Jason Matroya's quote of "If you think my methods are too harsh, then I have a nice little knitting set for you to work on" was voted by our readers to be one of the Best Quotes In Our Books. We have a little contest on that. Speaking of...

CONTEST:

Here's a challenge: Who do you think is the most bad-ass in this story so far? (Write your response in Parentheses, I'd appreciate it.)

 

Looking good, Leif.

Also, good to have you here.

(In my opinion, Morgan's the most bad-ass. Later in the story, he kicks the crap out of Jason's skills.)

 

Right. We'll continue this contest later, but for now, chapter 2.

Chapter 2: "Welcome to the Roughnecks"

Days went by, and Morgan found himself growing better and better at all the skills needed to become a Marine. He was just one point off on his accuracy, and if not for that, he might have been eligible for the Sniper position. His medical skills were also slightly lacking, but Jason noted, "They're definitely better than Nolan's."

Alex Nolan was the senior medic of Jason's regiment, the Roughnecks. Many complaints about him had come in, and they almost always said, "He's going to end up killing us faster than he'll help us." It was thought that Alex Nolan worked better under fire than when he had time to think, because when he had time to think, he almost always screwed up and either injected himself with a strong anesthesia rather than the patient, or somehow made a supposedly painless operation a living hell. Morgan thought of it as an insult to be compared to somebody as screwed up as Nolan.

More and more, Morgan found himself to be almost a perfect match when fighting Jason, as it became easier and easier to dodge or block his hits. They almost always ended in a stalemate, but one out of every five battles, Jason would pull ahead and knock Morgan on his *ss.

Morgan watched as his friends slowly fell into their positions as well. Sam was most suited for Reconnaissance or Infiltration, Hunter was fitting into the Demolitions position quite nicely, Julie was making herself out to be an excellent sniper, Wolf was showing that he was a very capable team leader, and Morgan also overheard a conversation where they considered making Wolf an Extra Vehicular Activity(E.V.A.) unit.

Meanwhile, Morgan was an unknown possibility. He was exceptional at unarmed combat, could adapt easily into any situation and use it to his advantage, had great aim, was very devious in combat, and made short work of a heavily armed soldier with nothing but his wits and whatever he could use as a weapon, even if it meant bull rushing the man, tearing off his helmet, and beating him to death with it. He could have an injured person on their feet in seconds, and it seemed everything they threw at him was useless, as he would just keep going. Morgan began wearing nothing but a short sleeve camouflage shirt, military pants, and combat boots. If he felt like it, he would throw a pair of gloves in to the mix.

Finally, after many days of decision, they placed Morgan in his position: Commando.

Only five other people ever held that position, and one of them was Jason Matroya. Another one was Grey Samuelson, renowned war hero of the St. Binah Marine Corps., but he was considered dead after a massive explosion supposedly blew him to pieces. Very few people knew the secret, and Morgan was the one person who accurately guessed what it was when challenged.

It had happened earlier that day:

"Alright, if you think you're so good at guessing games, what's the secret behind Grey Samuelson? Remember, this is extremely confidential, so not a lot of people know it. If you guess right, I'll give you fifty bucks," Wolf had said over breakfast.

"Well, my guess is that he's not dead, but he did lose a finger. And I'm thinking he might be a pilot nowadays..." Morgan had replied. He quickly noticed how fast the room had gone silent and how everybody was now staring at him in shock.

Morgan learned how confidential the secret about Grey Samuelson actually was. Samuelson had created his own group of super soldiers and hid the secret using their combined minds. A code so strong, not even the world's greatest hacker could get in. No matter how hard anybody tried, when they did a search on Grey Samuelson, they got the simple story, and no more. Anybody who managed to track down the secret facility where Samuelson's secret was preserved was immediately taken out by the guards. If necessary, anybody who broke in to the facility went up in flames with the secret because of hidden gravity detonators around the energy core that kept the place active. Setting off any of those would cause a massive chemical reaction that would quickly become unstable and explode.

Morgan was amazed he knew this without even knowing Samuelson.

Since then, nobody ever challenged him to any guessing games because of his unnerving accuracy at them.

It was on his last day in boot camp that Morgan and his friends all received the message. They were to meet Jason Matroya at the vehicle hangar. And so they did.

The vehicle hangar held every kind of air or land transport. Tanks, warthogs, mongooses, hornets, pelicans, you name it. Today, there were a lot of people in the hangar, all of them in a line, with Jason at the front. Morgan, Wolf, Julie, Sam, Hunter, and their newest friends, May Brinn and Nikolai "Sarge" Petrovich, all lined up in front of Jason.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Roughnecks. You may notice some friends, you may notice some strangers. And you may notice legends amongst legends. My boys and girls are all made up of specially selected people, chosen by their special talents, strength, speed, intelligence, endurance, and guts. There are only five of us who were not selected, but rather, upgraded. You all must have heard of the so-called failure of the Sierra project five years ago, don't you?" Jason surveyed the room. All faces were blank, even Morgan's. And this came as a surprise. Jason addressed him. "Here's a game, Morgan. Take a wild guess at what exactly happened to the Sierra project. Remember that it's confidential to the point that only the people who made it know."

Morgan's mind racked itself and he came up with an answer. "Sir, I think that it wasn't a failure, but the possibility that super human soldiers could rebel mixed with the fear of their own success was enough to drive the government to shut the program down, thereby avoiding any possible outbreak that could cost any innocent lives, sir."

There was that awkward silence again.

"Interesting. If you haven't heard the story, how is it that you were almost exactly correct? You missed one piece of information, and that was that three people were successfully altered because of this program and we haven't rebelled yet. I would be one of those people." Jason turned and gestured to two other people. "These guys are the other two. When I said you might see legends amongst legends, I was referring to theses guys, plus myself and a few other mentionable names."

Jason called each person by name, and they each stepped forward. "Corporal Jack Taylor, Admiral Julius Bartz, Captain Jarred Harrison, Colonel Grey Samuelson, Private Train Seboro, Sergeant Kaza Futaba, Sergeant Diana Burns, Sergeant Shaun Tanner, Private Troy Barron, Lieutenant Carla Minks, and Captain Yuri Asano. These men and women are all legends that people know probably too well. I believe somebody even has Corporal Taylor's rookie card from when he played football." Jason rolled his eyes and allowed himself a smirk as Taylor flipped him off while lighting a cigarette.

Morgan didn't need to ask to know what line was coming next, as Jason said it as clear as day:

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Roughnecks."

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. Many of the characters in Jason's Roughnecks are characters used in other stories as well.

2. The Sierra project is, in a way, kinda' like the Spartan II project in the Halo trilogy.

3. I'm running out of fun facts to mention.

 

Here's a fun fact for you, bro: In every story we've ever written, even though I've been out of service for the better part of two years, I'm apparently still enlisted.

 

You just make a good soldier story character, I guess.

Chapter 3: First Mission

Morgan's first mission was definitely boring. all they had done for the entire mission up to now was not move, not breath(at least, not loudly), not speak, and pretty much not reveal their positions. Jason said he and Captain Haley had located an enemy outpost somewhere nearby, but so far, no moves were being made to go anywhere near it. Maybe Morgan didn't have the plan completely thought up in his head, but before he could say anything about it, a voice silently crackled in his portable radio:

"Remington, get up here!"

Morgan quietly moved up to the Chief's position. Captain Haley smiled smugly at him, and then whispered, "We're not going to attack yet. We're going to scout around, see what weak points in this base there are, where caution might be necessary. Insertion and extraction points. Anything that goes boom might come in handy. These guys? They're weapon dealers. That means, if their operations all go to hell, they'll have a stock of heavy weapons to fight with. From what we can see, they're not very heavily armed or protected. They must be selling their heavy weapons, because normally in these situations, we'd see RPDs, Dragunovs on rooftops, maybe a rocket here and there. These guys don't leave anything to chance."

"What that means, Morgan, is that they're probably very well trained. If they know what to do, they've almost always got a trump card, even if they're out numbered, out geared, and out gunned. These guys aren't any people you want to f*ck around with, so you'd better be on your game. Any screw ups could cost your life, and in the Roughnecks, if you die, either we killed you, or you screwed up," MCPO added.

Morgan nodded. "So, who's doing the scouting?"

"We have Taylor and Harrison out there right now. They're giving us map readouts of possible entrances and exits, weak points and strong points, you name it. As soon as we have a path laid out, we'll send in our demo boys to rig the place as best they can. The distractions will be enough to get these guys worried. After that, we'll set up our snipers and get our assault teams lined up for an attack. Then it all plays out from there," Captain Haley replied.

"Here, take this," Jason said, handing Morgan a blue-tinted eyepiece. "It's a Cross Communications and Tactical Readout module. We're currently fielding these, along with some nice new toys. I figure you might as well have a chance to try these suckers out. It can give you an aiming reticule, a readout of the map from a bird's eye view, it can identify hostiles, friendlies, hostages and neutrals, and a voice override system lets you change people's identification. It can give you background checks on anybody of your choosing, has 4x zoom capabilities, measures wind speed and bullet drop, all sorts of other fun gadgets like that. I think you might like it."

Morgan took the module and attached it to his right ear. Immediately, he was given an aiming reticule, not like he really needed it, and a compass told him which direction he was facing. He could already tell he was going to have fun in the Roughnecks.

After a few more minutes of silent waiting, some of the Roughnecks began prepping their weapons for combat. Morgan was holding a silenced M4 carbine, similar in appearance to the M16 carbine, but instead of a three bullet burst, this rifle was full automatic. Its telescoping stock could be changed four different ways. On its carry handle was a mini scope with a 3.5x zoom capacity. It allowed him to take potshots from cover, and at a greater distance. It held thirty 5.56x45mm NATO cartridges in a box magazine that was bottom fed into the rifle's loading system, and its gas operated rotating bolt made short work of the considerably small clips, shooting seven hundred to nine hundred fifty rounds per minute. It was a smaller and easier-to conceal rifle, at only thirty-three inches. Twenty-nine point eight if the stock was retracted. It was also easy to carry, weighing in at only 6.9 lbs. when loaded, 5.9 when empty. It was an ideal close quarters combat weapon, but it was lacking at long range. Under the barrel was an M203 grenade launcher, which was a nice little toy when the situation got hairy.

Coupled with the M4 plus grenade launcher and mini scope was the Heckler and Koch Mark 23 semi-automatic pistol, also known as the MK23. It was light, weighing in at two point twenty-nine kilograms when loaded and suppressed. It held twelve .45 ACP rounds in a detachable box magazine loaded in the grip as most pistols, save for revolvers, were.

Morgan considered his weapon choice and decided he'd have to try it out to see how well it worked.

Finally, after the demo team had returned, MCPO Matroya signaled for the snipers to get set up. Captain Markus, Captain Harrison, Sergeant Tanner, Colonel Samuelson, and Private Barron all silently got up and crept past the others. Morgan saw them in his eyepiece move in a full quarter-circle, then split up. Samuelson remained close to the Roughnecks, Tanner moved across to a building, Leif climbed up into a tree, Barron climbed into another tree, and Harrison moved onto a watch tower, silently assassinated the two people on top of it, and set up his post.

Captain Haley motioned for the first assault team to move forward. Sergeant Major Thompson, Corporal Marks, Private Seboro, Sergeant Futaba, and Sergeant Vasili Chekovich all followed him to an area behind some crates. Admiral Bartz signaled out the second team, and Captain Wolf, Sergeant Hunter, Medical Sergeant Nolan, Sergeant Major Jericho, Sergeant Diana, Corporal Renee and Private Kazz Reno followed him behind a building, still hiding in the brush. Finally, MCPO Matroya motioned for the last group to follow him. Morgan's heart began beating faster with the anticipation of real, live-fire, in-the-field combat. He crept along behind Jason and was followed by Corporal Taylor, Lieutenant Minks, Captain Asano, Corporal Novikov, Private Du Fonte, Corporal Drake, and Sergeant Major Riho Futaba. They all moved around to another building close to where Captain Harrison was. Jason gave the signal to stop and whispered a ready check. once everybody had responded that they were ready, Jason gave the snipers a go signal, and Harrison fired a round straight into the head of an unfortunate man with an AK-47 who was standing in plain sight.

"Open fire!" Screamed Matroya, and with a loud battle cry, the assault teams surged in and began a huge firefight with the people still standing. Bullets repelled off of metal crates, kicked up small dust storms on the ground, and spun tangos around in circles if they didn't initially connect.

Morgan dove and rolled behind a box as a grenade landed next to his hiding spot. In just a matter of seconds, it exploded right next to him. For a moment, he peeked over the crates he was behind, then quickly ducked back down when he received fire. An idea came to him, and he felt like using it. Morgan unloaded a grenade from his grenade launcher and pulled the pin, being careful to hold the hammer down. He looked over at an automatic machine gunner nearby, then rolled the explosive ball towards him. Before the man could even blink, it exploded and blinded him. It was a flash bang grenade. Morgan shot the tango and ran over to his weapon, throwing the dead corpse off it as he did so. Then, taking aim, he began letting off bursts of thirty bullets, taking down tango after tango, until he saw that the barrel was turning bright red and getting ready to melt, at which point he dove out from behind the gun, bashed a tango in the head with his rifle, then shot off a grenade at a group homing in on Taylor's position. They didn't last long.

MCPO was screaming out orders as the fight dragged on. "Taylor! Get these guys off my back, I need to reload! Haley, get some frags out there! Rose, Wolf, cover Seboro while he reloads! Thompson, I'm running low!"

"I'm hit!"

"Get a medic over there!"

"Taking fire here, Chief!"

"Snipers, take out those tangos! Remington, come with me! Keep fighting, Roughnecks!"

Morgan ducked as he sprinted over to Matroya's position, bullets peppering the ground and whizzing through the air as he ran. He and Matroya ran around behind a building for cover.

"You alright?" Matroya asked.

"Yeah," Morgan replied.

"Good. Now, listen, this is important. I'm going to go find their leader and take him out. I need you to cover my *ss. Keep those tangos off me for as long as you can. Use grenades, taunt them, shoot them, do whatever you need to, just keep them off my back until I tell you to fall back. Clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Morgan said.

"Good. Demo team, light those f*ckers up!" Matroya screamed over his boom mike. Immediately, explosions were lit, and the two took that chance to burst into the building. They were met with gunfire.

"Remington, cover me!"

Morgan hid behind a couch and fired blindly into the room, waving his gun left and right, making sure the entire area got covered with lead. Lamps shattered, pictures fell off walls, holes exploded through the paint and wallpaper. Morgan heard his gun click, so he went back behind cover and threw a flash bang grenade to give him some time as he ripped out the dead clip and slammed a fresh one back into the gun. The couch suddenly began to turn into feathers, so Morgan rolled out and behind a doorway, randomly shooting his gun while he moved.

He replaced his M4 and took out his MK23 and leaned out from behind the wall, shooting wildly at the tangos, occasionally peppering one or two with bullets, causing them to jolt sickeningly. One even fell out the window. Morgan dashed up the stairs and grabbed a nearby SMG from a fallen tango, then opened fire wildly on the people in the hallway as Matroya made his way through the confined space to the door at the end.

"Keep it up, Morgan! Don't stop!"

"Chief! I'm down, I need help!" screamed Tanner over the radio.

"Hang in there, Tanner! Nolan, get over there and help him out!" Jason replied, then looked back up and delivered a powerful kick the knocked out the door and part of the wall around it. A rather terrified and richly dressed man screamed something, and Jason was met with oncoming fire. Morgan ran up to the room, went to one knee, and began firing at tangos as they appeared. He heard massive amounts of machine gun fire and looked up to see that Jason had grabbed two MP7s that were lying on the ground. He made short work of the remaining tangos, then proceeded on down another set of stairs into the basement. Morgan got up to follow him.

"No! Hold your position! Bartz, get in here! We need to take this guy out!"

"Chief, they've got hostages! Be careful!" Morgan screamed as a reading came in on his eyepiece. He heard shouting behind him and turned around, opening up on the six men running at him.

Meanwhile, down below in a basement, Admiral Bartz and MCPO Matroya had shot down the men guarding the hostages and proceeded to unload their ammo on the main target, who jolted wildly, his blood spraying the wall and floor, until he finally collapsed into a wall.

"Come with us!" Jason shouted. The two hostages, who were rookie members of the GHOST Elites, nodded feverishly and followed without a word.

"Remington, fall back! We're done here!" Jason shouted as he returned to the room. Morgan picked up two SMGs and tossed them to the GHOSTs, then ran towards a window and jumped out of it, unwilling to have to fight his way out of the building. Luckily for him, he landed in some sandbags that kept the house from flooding, so he wasn't injured. His back was definitely sore.

"Hold off the assault while we fall back to the extraction point! Keep fighting!" Jason screamed as he, Bartz, and the two GHOSTs ran towards the area they had marked as the extraction zone. Morgan followed them, but stopped when he saw Sergeant Futaba and Captain Haley taking massive amounts of fire.

"Captain! Sergeant! Let's do back to back!" Morgan screamed, running up to them.

"Huh, I never thought I'd do a back to back again..." Haley yelled over the gunfire as he, Futaba and Remington reloaded their weapons and revolved slowly in a circle, taking out any and all tangos who ran at them, allowing the rest of the Roughnecks to fight off the assault and get out to the extraction point. Once the gunfire finally died down, the three remainders jogged towards the extraction point.

Then Morgan felt a bullet tear through his leg. There was a tango who wasn't quite dead, but he used his dying shot to send Remington to his stomach. Haley ran back and threw Morgan over his shoulders, then walked as fast as he could to the extraction point, which was behind the cover of trees and brush in a small clearing.

"Whew. Well done, guys. Another successful mission. Let's get these guys back to their squad, get back to base, and get debriefed so we can all go home and sleep today off. Nice job to all the rookies; you just survived Roughneck 101, lesson one: thinking during combat. It's not easy when you're a rookie, but you'll get the hang of it. And Morgan, thanks for getting me in and out without lead up my *ss. I owe you one," Jason said with a smile on his sweat and dirt stained face.

"Sir, Remington's been hit," Haley said, gesturing to Morgan's leg.

"We'll get that fixed up back at base. For now, just take it like a man, kiddo," Jason replied, slinging his gun over his shoulders.

Hunter popped off a green flare and a Transport landed to give the Roughnecks a ride back to base to debrief, clean up, and head back home. During the ride, Morgan grit his teeth and painfully tore the bullet out of his leg, then used water to clean the wound, and then took a sterile bandage wad from his pocket and used it to wrap a sterile gauze pad over the small bullet hole. It was the best he could do at the moment.

"I think I might keep this," he said to Haley, who was sitting next to him. Jason laughed and resumed staring out the window, as he always did when traveling.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. It is possible for a Machine Gun Turret to melt if you don't give it time to cool down in between bursts.

2. This may not have been an entirely effective battle strategy, but it worked, so I don't see the problem.

3. This particular weapon dealing group was part of a large(fake) crime ring of drug cartels, weapon dealers, sex shops, and other criminal businesses. Remember that This story is mainly sci-fi, so this group is entirely made up.

(I now say Morgan's even more badass.)

 

Well, somebody did their homework! Where'd you get all this information, Military Weapons at Wikipedia.com? There's no way you already knew this.

And about that battle strategy they used in this chapter, it's actually something my squad used when I was in the Army. You know, before I transfered to the Marines.

 

Quick lesson on Flash Bang Grenades, in case you've forgotten: They do not take the bulbous form of Fragmentation grenades. They are actually cylindrical, and taller, like a smoke grenade. And I'm quite certain you can't load those in a grenade launcher, but I may be wrong.

 

I think you actually CAN load them into grenade launchers. They are technically grenades. And I can't find any specification on what grenades can be loaded into a grenade launcher attachment.

 

Right... whatever.

Chapter 4: Off Time

Morgan had gotten his leg more properly fixed prior to his arrival to the base's medical facility. The medic inside had asked him, "How in the hell were you left with only one gunshot wound? What, did you shoot yourself?" to which Morgan replied, "I guess I'm just lucky."

Now, he was driving back home in a rented Prius. He didn't like the Prius, especially not those commercials where people in colorful jumpsuits pretended to be the wildlife sprouting around the Prius. It wasn't that efficient a car, in Morgan opinion, since it still used gas half the time. The other half the time, it was actually kind of efficient. That didn't change the fact that the Prius still made itself part of the growing concern of Global Warming.

Ah, hell, Remington thought, I'm becoming a hippie...

His house wasn't extravagant, but it wasn't a junk heap either. It was a rather cozy little two-story building where he, his little sister, his two older brothers, his mother, and his father all resided. He hadn't paid them a visit in a while, and figured since his brother, Mike, was getting married soon, it would be nice to show up for the reception.

But hiding the car was also good. His dad hated the Prius more than Morgan did, and if it wasn't any type of BMW car, Morgan's dad tended to light fire to the gas tank. Morgan parked it(not very well)along the curb where there were no windows and then got out. Before heading around to his father's workshop, he went in the house. Morgan noticed his mother's car wasn't in the driveway. She was probably still at work, then... Morgan hadn't bothered to check the time since he had arrived back from St. Binah, and he was most likely reading his watch wrong. If it was two in the morning in St. Binah, it was five in the afternoon for his hometown of Junarkad, which was a part of the Arkad triangle. It was more of the Arkad straight line, now, because the desert city of Arkad had long since fallen.

Morgan pushed his way through the wooden screen door and made sure to slam it shut so he could get his siblings' attention. Mike was the first to turn around and see his little brother in the doorway. "Ten-hut! Souja' boy on deck!" was his snide remark for the day.

"Shut up, meathead," Morgan said with a smile. It had been a while since he'd heard anything from his family, and therefore, he wasn't in the slightest offended by Mike's comment.

Ryan Got up and smacked Morgan in the back of the head. "You son of a b*tch! Everybody's been worried about you, you weren't sending any messages, no phone calls, emails, nothin'! What the hell were you doing all this time?" Typical Ryan, always worried about something or another. Ryan had also been enlisted in the Military, but unlike Morgan, he was a Medical Sergeant. Probably better than Nolan, too.

Morgan hugged his little sister, who was busy playing with a My Little Pony(Five year old children were always ridiculously cute when they were playing), then addressed his brother. "I got sent out on my first mission. I almost got away unscathed." He pointed to the bandage on his right leg.

"Ouch, looks painful," Mike said, peeking over the back of his chair. He was busy watching the Superbowl. The Remington family didn't often have visitors over to their residence, so they usually just enjoyed a family get-together on Superbowl day.

"It was, for a while. Hey, Mike, how's Lisa doing?" Morgan asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"If she would shut up for five seconds? We'd be perfect," Mike replied, taking a swig of his beer. "God, she's so noisy! I say one word, and she has a fifty-page report already made on the topic. Have you had that problem, Morgan?"

"Well, I have a sarcastic regiment leader, a Medic who sucks worse than I do, a Demolitions dude who enjoys pyrotechnics too much, and a snobby French dude who enjoys asking me for more ammo. Let me think here, could that possibly be worse than your fiance?" Morgan said, rolling his eyes.

"Right, right. Hey, by the way, Dad said to tell you when you got here that he had something he wanted to talk about," Ryan said, gesturing to the door. Morgan could only wonder as he went to his father's workshop out back.

As always, it was dusty, cluttered with tools, and smelled like Birch wood. Morgan didn't mind that, but he was allergic to the dust, and as soon as he stepped in the door, he quickly set his beer down and let out a monstrous sneeze that he thought for sure had launched his brain out his ears like a slingshot. He rubbed the sides of his head to make sure.

"Nope, still there."

Morgan looked over at his father. At 65 years, it was hard to believe he looked as young as he did. His hair, with age, had turned white, and he had finally grown in that beard he'd always wanted, but other than that, he looked like a thirty year old with wiry, bleached hair. His dad wasn't just a Carpenter, he also enjoyed slamming on his old electric guitar. Dad had a strong belief that you're only an old geezer if you stop enjoying life and complain nonstop. Morgan agreed with that theory.

"Well, I see Mr. Marine's come home in his sporty Prius car," Dad said, peeking up from whatever it was he was working on.

"Y...you saw that?" Morgan said, dumbstruck.

"Son, I can see a lot more than you know from here. I'm old, not blind, damn it," Dad replied. He technically was blind in one eye, since it was a glass eye. Years of terrible vision in his left eye had finally pissed him off enough to get a surgery done on it, and now he referred to himself as "One Eye Jack, the Old Geezer Pirate of the North Atlantic Ocean". Jack Remington was a rather fun person to be around, once you got past his gruff attitude and unusually relentless barrage of insults. Arthritis in his left leg had done that to him.

Jack approached Morgan. "Good to see you, son. I imagine training went well?"

"Er, yeah. And uh, they apparently liked me so much that I'm now a part of the Roughneck-woah!" Morgan exclaimed as his father began coughing.

"Pardon me, but did you say you're a Roughneck now?" Jack asked, trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah. Well, not yet. MCPO says that I need to be a member of the Roughnecks for at least five missions before I'm a real Roughneck. And I still have four missions to go," Morgan replied.

"Well, way to go, slugger!" Jack said, messing up Morgan's hair(knowing he hated it). Jack had never had the chance to be a Roughneck when he was in the military. Probably because at the time, they didn't exist. "Oh, yeah, before I forget, Sam came by earlier today," Jack added, returning to his work.

Morgan felt his face go pale. "Sam? What was she here for?"

"She was helping with the bills," Jack replied over the loud whirrrr of the wood sander.

Morgan sighed and sat down on a nearby stool, which, as he thought it would, broke from underneath him. His dad was good at Carpentry, but terrible at making things stay together.

Samantha Joy Tamara used to be Morgan's girlfriend, right up until the homecoming dance back in college, when she broke up with him after a fight they had gotten into. She now worked with the St. Binah Bureau of Intelligence(S.B.B.I.), and to hear that she still had enough time to cause hell for Morgan was a not-good-thing to hear.

"Sam told me she might be going to your brother's marriage. I think you two should try and resolve your issues with each other. Dance with her, have a good time. It's now or never, kid," Jack said, giving Morgan a strangely knowing look.

"Whatever. I just hope she won't draw any more blood than what I've already lost..." Morgan grabbed his beer and left the workshop, limping because of his leg wound.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. Alex Nolan will be insulted for his incompetence many times through the course of this story.

2. Ryan Remington was a character from Red Morning, a story by Jason Haley.

3. Morgan got shot in the knee, if you were wondering. Lucky for him, it missed the knee cap and the tendons. The important stuff wasn't injured, so he's able to walk. The guy who shot him couldn't aim too well.

4. Morgan's little sister is Jamie Lee, by the way.

5. I'll probably introduce Morgan's mother in the next chapter, to make up for my negligence in this chapter.

 

So, basically, Morgan's like Scott Mitchel of Ghost Recon, right?

 

Kinda, yeah. I was actually going for a more Jack Taylor kind of appearance, but then I thought, nah, Morgan's too upbeat and happy to be a manic-depressive like Taylor.

 

Blah blah blah, shut up.

Chapter 5: Catching Up

The church Mike and Lisa had chosen as their marriage spot was huge, even for a church. Which was a good thing, more space to move. After the rings had been put on, the vows had been said, and the kisses had been administered, Mike had taken the lovely bride, swung her over his shoulder, and danced like an idiot exclaiming, "Woohoo! Party time!", which caused Morgan to drop his head into his hand in shame.

The reception hall was just as big as the church. Mike called up Morgan, who was already somewhat buzzed, to say a few things.

"Well, uh, congrats on the marriage, Mikey, I'm sure you two will do great together, first of all," Morgan started, which roused applause from the audience. "Gosh, has it really been sixteen years? I remember when you were six and you kept whining about your homework being too hard. Course, I was three at the time, so that might not be entirely true..." This brought laughter from the crowd. Mike turned red and flipped Morgan off. "Oh, come on, now, don't be like that Mikey," Morgan replied.

"Well, anyhow, like I said, congratulations, Mike and Lisa. You two make a ridiculously cute couple, and I can't keep standing up here talking for too much longer because I'll start to talk fast, and I'm already smashed and fast talking with beer does not sit well with- hang on a sec..." Laughter arose as Morgan turned and hurled into a paper bag he had protruded from his tuxedo's inner pocket. Then, he turned back and finished his sentence. "...With me. There we go. Well, anyhow, I still can't believe it's been sixteen years. And here I thought it would take forever to get to this point. It always feels weird, doesn't it, when you're six years old at one point, but then suddenly, you're getting married, or you're a Private in the Marines, or you're a carpenter who still enjoys playing guitar. Little moments like these... you just don't want them to end, do you?"

After a few more heartfelt words, everybody filed out on to the dance floor with their partners. Some of the groom's buddies and the best man(Ryan) were sitting around talking and having a few kiloliters of beer, while Morgan was just sitting and watching Mike dance with Lisa. He silently asked himself how things could have passed by so fast. And while his train of thought would have continued on for a while, a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He didn't have to guess who it was. One look at the red painted nails gave him the clue.

"Damn you, Morgan, you made me cry!" said Sam's disembodied voice. Morgan looked up into her tear stained face. She hadn't changed at all since he last saw her. She still cropped her hair short, and it never changed its color from red-orange. Admittedly, she had grown into a more womanly form, but that was one of the few major changes. Her bright blue eyes had dimmed slightly as well.

Morgan's father's words came back to him: Dance with her, Have a good time. He looked over to see Jack staring at him, obviously waiting to see Morgan make his move.

With a sigh, Morgan turned around to face Sam again. "Want to dance?" he asked, gesturing to the dance floor. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's oka-hey..."

Sam didn't even need Morgan to ask, as she had grabbed him by the wrist and was now dragging him out onto the dance floor, his martini still in hand. It was a slow dance. Sam let her head rest on Morgan's chest. "You smell like fruit," she commented.

"I took a shower," Morgan replied.

"You piss me off," Sam said, slamming her fist into Morgan's chest.

"Yeah, I guessed."

"Morgan, there's something I need to ask you, but not now," Sam said, looking up at Morgan. He saw a glimmer of sadness in her eyes, and this confused him. Normally, Sam was very upbeat and happy, unless Morgan was around, then she was always very quiet and absorbed in her work. He'd never seen Sam look sad before.

Later, after everybody had stumbled out of the reception hall to watch the bride and groom drive off in their "JUST MARRIED!!!" car, Sam's hand locked again on Morgan's wrist and dragged him over to her SUV.

"You said you needed to ask me something?"

"Morgan... I'm moving away soon. I just wanted to try and make things up with you before then," Sam said, her eyes locked on the ground.

"So that's what this is all about, huh? Well, my dad thinks I should do the same. I'm going to be heading back out to headquarters tomorrow for my next mission, and he wants me to reconcile with you before the-" Morgan never got time to finish his sentence as Sam locked him in a kiss. Morgan, for some reason, always timed how long a kiss lasted. This one went on for a full minute. Then he noticed Sam was crying. Unusual, indeed.

"Hey, hey, come on, don't do this Sam, you know I hate seeing ladies cry..." Morgan looked around, hoping nobody was watching.

"Morgan, I don't want to leave. I want to stay here, with you. But they... the S.B.B.I... they're making me relocate myself because of operations going on in the north, in Hasarkad."

Morgan knew about Hasarkad. He had just completed a mission there.

"Wow... sucks," was all he could say. In his mind, his shoulder angel was b*tch slapping him repeatedly and screaming, "What the hell kind of response is that, you f*ckin' meathead?!"while simultaneously shaking him like a rag doll. Morgan's shoulder angel was also his conscience, and neither one appreciated him.

Sam stepped back from Morgan, then moved in for a last hug before getting in her car and driving off.

Morgan was stunned. And he didn't notice that he was spilling his martini down his slacks until he felt his sock get cold.

"Aw, damn it!" he exclaimed.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. Yes, Morgan drinks. Not very much, but he still drinks.

2. Incidentally, neither Morgan nor Jason(Xendane) can talk fast while buzzed, or drunk. It ends in disaster.

3. I've met Sam. She's exactly as Morgan describes her in this story. And for some reason, she hates me. Eh.

 

Exactly.

By the way, I AM in this story, this is my first entry.

Chapter 6: Jump

Morgan had thought the next mission would be fun, but he hadn't expected to go jumping from an airplane. That was just badass. How many times did a rookie commando like him get to jump from planes? Only in his free time, that's how many.

He, Hunter, Wolf, May, Julie and Sarge were all sitting together on the plane. Jason had said to form teams of two, one person to shoot, the other to navigate. Julie had slyly remarked that she and Morgan would make an excellent jump team. But, Morgan caught on and teamed up with Hunter instead, much to Julie's annoyance.

"I have my reasons," he had said when Hunter asked what all that was about.

Now, the bay doors of the plane were opening, and Matroya stood up in front of the Roughnecks. He had to scream to be heard. "Listen up! We're about to jump! Everybody do a gear check!"

One by one, marines slapped each other on the shoulders and screamed "Okay!" in their ears. When the last person had done this, Matroya told them to strap themselves up. Morgan would be the guy shooting in his two-man team, as Hunter's gun wasn't very good at long range. Morgan this time wielded an M16 carbine. A better weapon for this job, and its three-bullet burst would make short work of anybody who just would not stay dead. It also helped him conserve ammo.

Julius Bartz had hooked up with Matroya. Julius was a full foot taller than Matroya, but the fact that Jason wasn't a very tall shield didn't bother anybody. Jason gave the go signal, and one by one, two man teams jumped from the plane. After a certain distance, the navigators pulled the parachute strings.

"Uh, Hunter, why aren't you pulling your string?" Morgan shouted.

"I am pulling it! The damn thing's jammed!"

"For the love of Christ!" Morgan shouted, pulling out his pistol and shooting the parachute pouch, releasing the rectangular piece of fabric into the air. Hunter grabbed the hand grips and navigated over to the rest of the group. So far, nobody but Morgan had had any reason to shoot, so all was quiet, except for incoming orders from Matroya.

"Once we touch down, Taylor, Train and Remington are going to set up our big guns to give us cover while we slip inside the base. I'll give the go sign when it's clear to move forward." He cut the radio from that point, until they all touched down and unhooked themselves.

Morgan ran over to Taylor and Seboro's position with an M60 turret. Seboro loaded it, while Taylor set it up. Morgan pulled out his M16, loaded all the clips, and then placed one of the said clips into the gun. He flipped open the mini scope and took aim. Seboro had taken out an L85A1 rifle and was now doing the same.

"Taylor! Open up!"

Taylor slammed home every round that he fired. Every person that fell was peppered with tracers as Taylor emptied ammo box after ammo box.

Morgan and Seboro had a pattern worked out. Seboro would disarm them, and Morgan would finish them off. It seemed to be working out well.

Before long, Captain Haley called in on the radio: "Guys, move up! The area's clear!"

Morgan jumped up and ran out into the open, followed by Taylor with a UMP and Seboro with his L85A1. Captain Haley waited for them to catch up, then ran into a nearby building where the rest of the Roughnecks were. The team's communications expert, Corporal Jet Leroy, was busy confirming to the people behind this mission that area 1 was clear and that there were seven more needed to be cleared out, from what the scouts had reported. He also added, "It looks a lot like the weapon dealers from our last mission, but I think they've got drugs this time. The scouts aren't exactly sure yet. We'll let you know when we find it, sir."

Drug cartels and weapon dealings? Morgan felt a grin pass over his face. This was going to be fun.

Jason looked up as he heard the radio squelch. "Do they have any orders?" he asked.

"They say to keep a steady watch on area 2 and see if there's anything related to a drug cartel of any sort. Should we set up scouting teams?" Leroy asked.

"Yeah. Morgan, you, Wolf and Seboro will be Alpha team. Taylor, Jericho and Haley, you guys will be Beta team. Samuelson, Harrison and Tanner will be Charlie team. We'll stay here and hold the fort until you guys get back. Move!"

Morgan and his team split off to the right as they reached the brush. They ducked down under some low hanging leaves and crept along until they reached a fallen tree close to where they were going to be scouting. Wolf pulled out a pair of binoculars with 4x zoom, night vision, heat vision, and Electromagnetic Pulse(EMP) sensors, while Morgan flipped up a small antenna on his earpiece. This would relay whatever Wolf saw over to Morgan's earpiece, where it would be tactically laid out from that position. Train would guide Wolf's vision to any important places.

"Wolf, that big building in the center. Heat vision."

"Looks like... maybe sixteen or seventeen tangos and three hostages. And it looks like... yep, command was right. They're all our guys. Hey, is that Captain Markus?" Wolf said, looking hard into the binoculars.

"Aw man, Haley's not going to like this..." Morgan muttered as the three green diamonds identified themselves: Sergeant Ace Myron, Lieutenant Colonel Scott Heatherow, and Captain Leif Markus. Upon further investigation, as Morgan got a readout of how well they were equipped, he figured they must have been on a recon mission. In recon missions, the main objective is to do everything and not get caught, whether that requires you to silently assassinate anybody who might cause an alarm, or throwing a smoke bomb, or even taking out security cameras. Recon soldiers were armed with smoke bombs, demo kits, electronic kits, heartbeat sensors, night vision, and probably the most obvious, dark clothing. They usually worked well at night, where it was optimal because normally, guards would be tired or unable to see very well without some sort of constriction.

But... the thing about this particular recon team was... they weren't a real recon team.

Leif was a Sniper who was well aware of his abilities and once had a bounty on his head because of them, but that was cleared by the government long ago. Scott Heatherow was an Assault unit who could remain calm in most any dangerous situation, and worked exceptionally well if his younger brother, Sam Heatherow, was there with him. And Ace, Ace wasn't even a Marine. He was part of the Army, and was a Mechanical Sergeant. He was responsible for taking care of the vehicles, computers, guns, what have you, because the people who were trained to take care of those objects were either too lazy, badly injured, or dead. Ever since St. Binah had joined forces with the World Defensive Initiative(W.D.I.)'s Colonial Militia in Kasaro, the Army had seen a lot of action.

And its involvement here must have been a joint drug bust gone wrong.

"Alpha team reporting three hostages, two of them are Marines, one Army. Identified as Sergeant Ace Myron, Lieutenant Colonel Scott Heatherow, and Captain Leif Markus. Situation looks stable for now. Returning to base, over." Train waited. Finally, "Report received, Private. Awaiting your arrival, over."

"Come on, let's go back. We've mapped everything out," Train said, motioning them to follow. Morgan knew when he got back to their little hideaway, Jason was going to smack him so hard...

Wham!

...Or maybe punch him square in the face.

Before Jason could hurt anybody else, Admiral Bartz had slammed him to the floor with his hands behind his back and his head unable to be moved.

"Okay, Haley, you really need to calm down. We all get it, your friends are all trapped, and you're just as pissed as we are. But you don't need to take it out on the rookies, or any of us either, okay?" Bartz said, keeping Jason firmly pinned despite the fact that Jason was putting up a meaningless struggle.

Finally, after a few more seconds, Captain Haley had calmed down enough for Bartz to let him up. Haley walked over to Morgan and helped him to his feet. "Sorry, it just bugs me, that's all," he said, an oops-I-f*cked-up smile on his face.

"Nah, man, I get it." Morgan walked over to his medical kit and pulled out an ice pack to put on his already bruising face. Captain Haley didn't hit particularly hard, but he hit fast, and that made up for any pain lost by hitting lightly.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. This chapter actually took me a while to write. I had to think to myself, What situations could I possibly make myself a hostage in, if it were real? Joint drug busts weren't really my forte, and neither were recon missions, since in a joint mission, one side's following their own protocol while you're following yours and it gets confusing, and in recon missions, if you're not a shadow, you're dead, or the mission fails. It seemed perfect for me.

2. Yes, Jason(Xendane) actually does get that pissed when I'm being hurt or held hostage or in any danger in any way, shape, or form. He's the last person you want to be near when he's heard I'm in trouble.

3. Yes, Morgan has felt a Haley punch. Suffice to say, He's never let Jason hit him again, for fear of what Jason might hit next time...

4. Bartz is unbelievably strong. He carries a minigun as a main weapon when in combat, he can bench press a jeep, and he can hold down a raging Marine on his own just by sitting on the guy. This is why he was so easily able to hold Jason(Xendane) down in this chapter.

5. The World Defensive Initiative is like the Global Defensive Initiative, but I didn't want to get sued for copyright, so I changed the title a bit. See, the G.D.I. is copyright of Command and Conquer. And the last thing I need is some company with tons of their games being sold(Ubisoft)coming and suing me for accidentally f*cking up and using one of their ideas without permission.

(By the way, Jase, I forget. Is Scott Heatherow Marines or Navy?)

 

Aw, come on, Morgan! It was a love tap! XD

(Scotty? Uh, I think he's Marines... He might actually be Navy, but I'm not really sure...)

 

No, it's taking a while because I have other things to do at the moment.

~~~~~

EDIT: I wish I could say I was surprised that I was off so long, but I'm not going to, since I know exactly why I was off for so long.

Listen, I'll have Chapter 7 up soon. I'm working on it.

 

Thanks for helping me finish the chapter, Jase.

Chapter 7: Rescue

Morgan had personally requested to go with Jason, Dusti, Bryce and Parora to bust out the three hostages. They were all friends with the hostages, and they felt therefore it was correct to try and save their friends. Matroya had seen nothing to argue about, so he had agreed to let the five rescue the hostages. Though, if he had a choice, he would've sent in the professional Roughnecks, himself, Bartz and Harrison, to do the job.

The small rescue team made their way through the night to the base and quietly slipped in through the bushes in back. Jason peeked out from behind the wall and, with his silenced P-228, took out the guard directly in front of him. Since it was so dark, it wasn't like anybody would've seen him.

Morgan darted forward and grabbed the guard, then dragged him back behind the building. A second later, he popped back out wearing the guard's outfit, then strode up to the building and requested access. The guards looked at him blankly, then shrugged and stepped away from the doors so he could get in. The fools they had sent to guard the fort...

Jason, Dusti, Bryce and Parora all climbed in through the window. Five guards would cause suspicion, all walking in the front door. Especially since Dusti wasn't exactly the smallest person in the world. And the guards here weren't big. They were pretty shrimpy.

When questioned by Morgan as to why he had to go incognito, Jason replied, "Because you're the rookie, and the rookies always get the crap jobs."

Joy...

~~~~~

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the building, Leif was the only hostage not asleep, and he had remembered that in his back pocket was a lock pick in case he needed it. He pulled it out and carefully undid the locks on his shackles, making sure he was quiet about it, since there were two guards right in front of him. As soon as the metal bracelets that constricted his hands came undone, Leif slowly got to his feet, grabbed the two guards' heads, and slammed them together as hard as he could. They were out instantly. He turned around and jolted Scott and Ace awake. When they saw he had gotten out, excited smiles crossed their faces.

Leif undid their cuffs, then the three grabbed the weapons off the guards and ran to the doors.

~~~~~

"Morgan, are you sure we're going the right way?" Bryce asked for the fifth time during mission.

"Yes, I am entirely sure, this module has an automated map in it, and it says we're going the right way!" Morgan replied.

"Well, sorry for asking," Dusti said, mockingly.

"All of you just cram it, Morgan still a rookie, remember?" Jason said accusingly to the three following him. Bryce and Dusti shifted uncomfortably, but Parora, who had been strangely quiet, kept looking straight ahead. Morgan didn't have to ask why; Parora always turned ridiculously serious in situations like these.

~~~~~

Leif, Ace and Scott silently made their way through the hallways, making sure they said the right things so the guards wouldn't be suspicious. Leif had a feeling that Jason was somewhere nearby; he didn't know how he knew, nor why, but he had a feeling that somebody familiar was nearby, and therefore, he wanted to hurry and get out of there as fast as possible-

"There! Those are the f*ckers that escaped!"

-Damn.

~~~~~

Jason heard the faint sounds of gunfire and felt his heartbeat jump from normal to emergency backup. He darted ahead of Morgan and pulled out his other trusted friend: A knife with an eagle's head as the pommel of the hilt. Jason held it in a reverse grip... really, he had no choice. The knife was made so that you could only hold it in a reverse grip, and if you weren't particularly good with that kind of grip, then you had no business holding the knife.

"Jason, wait!" Dusti cried, unintentionally giving the others away as well. Morgan had never seen so many guards charge into a room at a time.

"Son of a b*tch!" Bryce shouted as he pulled out his FAL and began firing, dropping one guard after another. Parora turned around and took out what Morgan made out to be an AUG with an attached grenade launcher. Dusti ran to catch up with Jason, but Morgan stayed behind to help Bryce and Parora. Jason and Dusti were very much capable on their own, and Morgan knew this from experience.

He dropped to his knee beside Bryce and pulled out his M16(he refused to carry enemy weapons when possible)and opened fire on their knees. Knees, because Recon missions were typically not meant to kill anybody. But, this one had turned and gone to hell.

"Jesus-f*cking-Christ! If you guys were part of the spy business, I would have had you all Protocol Sixed before you could say your mother's name! Listen, the mission's gone to hell, now the objectives are to just get the hostages, and yourselves, out alive and back to base. Understand? Don't f*ck this one up too!" Matroya called in over the radio. Everything that was happening, he saw from the team's Trident night vision goggles. Morgan felt like the biggest ******bag as he continued his defensive barrage. There wasn't adequate cover in the hallways, so they were forced to chuck grenades when they could.

~~~~~

Meanwhile on the other side of the equation, Jason and Dusti were having troubles of their own. They had located Leif and the others, but when they got in the room, a massive hailstorm of bullets flew at them. Jason, who was quite adept at using his knife, put its strong blade to good use by deflecting bullets when he could as he made his way over to Leif. One person jumped out in front of him-

Bam. Knife through the carotid artery.

Jason ditched his knife and pulled out the two Uzis that were strapped to his legs. He didn't like automatic pistols, but he didn't care about what weapon he was using at the moment. As their clips were quickly emptied into the bodies of the guards, Jason rolled out of the way of a grenade and picked up, of all things, a rocket launcher near some boxes, stuffed a rocket into its barrel, leveled it on his shoulder at some guards behind boxes, and fired, turning the guards into a new form of meat: Rocket-broiled.

"Jason! Behind you!" Dusti screamed, his voice rebounding off the walls.

Jason turned a second too late and was met with a gun to his face, and as the man pulled the trigger...

...What?

Jason felt that he should be seeing white right about now, had it not been for Leif's sudden appearance. Leif had hit the guard's head with the butt of his gun so hard that it was now lodged in the man's disfigured cranium. Leif shoved them both aside, and, breathing heavily, helped Jason to his feet. Dusti came out from behind cover. "Are they all gone?" he asked.

"Not hardly. There's going to be a whole sh*tload of them coming for us now," Ace replied, glancing nervously behind him at the door they had entered from.

"Then grab some guns, kiddo," Scott said as he tore the lid off of a box holding grenades, and then another box that held the mother load of AK-74s. Ace, meanwhile, had found himself a nice little toy: The flamethrower.

"Leif, I found this for you," Jason said. Leif turned around and was met with a Dragunov flying at him. He deftly caught it.

"Eh, not exactly a Covert, but it'll do..." he muttered.

"Well, if you guys are done talking, I'd advise that you all get back to base now," Matroya piped in over the radio. The radios worn by Matroya's Roughnecks were not the conventional ones. They were instead embedded in the ears and throats of the people who wore them, and to communicate, all one had to do was gently press their Adam's apple and speak. Ace, who was still part of the Army and hadn't transferred like Scott and Bryce, didn't have one of these, and he was left wondering why everybody in the room was tapping their inner ears.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Scott said, taking charge as squad leader(technically, he was a squad leader by default because of his rank, Lieutenant Colonel)and ran out of the rooms, the others in tow.

~~~~~

Morgan caught sight of the others and yelled to Parora and Bryce, "We have to get out of here!" Nobody really needed to be told. The three jumped to their feet and, making religious use of smoke grenades, ran from the building with the others.

Seven Marines and an Army soldier could just barely be made out as they disappeared in the trees once more. The guards who hadn't fallen to the assault were now angrily storming from the building, wondering where the sorry b*stards who tore up their base and took their prisoners were.

~~~~~

Fun Facts:

1. I love using the AW Covert sniper rifle. It's a rifle with a built in silencer that renders it nearly soundless. Perfect for any sniper who knows what he's doing. Not the strongest, sure, but that doesn't really matter.

2. Jason and I would literally die for each other, if you're wondering how close we really are.

3. Ace and the flamethrower are like Jason and the eagle-head knife or me and the sniper rifle: We go hand in hand.

4. I was actually surprised that Jason didn't make use of Haley-Do(or, in Russian, as it originated there: мертвый жизнь бой, Deadly Life Combat, the art of killing without killing) in this chapter. Or did he? I dunno...

5. Jason's knife was made by an expert craftsman who's name I can't remember. The guy acts French, but he's really Finnish.

6. Bryce Emmet, Ace Myron, Scott Heatherow, Sam Heatherow, and Houston Harley are all vehicle mechanics. They work in their own shop. They mainly work on creating their own bikes and cars, but every so often I send my bike in for repairs(or a paint job).

7. Seven Marines- Me, Jason, Bryce, Parora, Dusti, Scott, Morgan. One Army Soldier- Ace, of course.

 

Geez, I thought you'd never get this done...

I don't recall ever deciding to use a FAL. I'm more of an M14 guy myself.

 

Interesting chapter. When I saw the five ~'s at the end of the paragraph, I was wondering why you cut the chapter short, then I saw that there was still stuff in it.