Title: FVZA OFFICIAL OPERATION: Vanity Yardsale II
Description: Vanity Yardsale II
Alaska - March 22, 2007 10:05 PM (GMT)
[Sorry, Cyber. I will not let this site die.]
"Attention all patrons of John Fitzgerald Kennedy International Airport, all flights to Seattle have been canceled at this time, those originally directed to Seattle may exchange their tickets for a full refund. Thank you and have a nice day."
"Attention all those leaving from O'Hare International Airport, all flights to Seattle have been postponed indefinitely. Those heading for Seattle may exchange their ticket books for a full refund. Thank you and please have a nice day."
"Attention those in Los Angeles International airport, all flights to Seattle have been canceled . Thank you and have a nice day."
"Attention patrons, all flights from Philadelphia International Airport to Seattle, Washington have been postponed indefinitely. Thank you and have a nice day."
A briefing folder slid across one of the imitation-oak desks at the Federal Vampire and Zombie agency Headquarters, standing was one of the big wigs of the FVZA, "Agents, we have a current crisis in Seattle. After our initial belief that the Undead event in Seattle had been taking care of, we have now been proven wrong. Bite totals began rising three days ago, and now they have been rising out of control. The Washington National Guard has already quarantined the entire area and Armed forces from the Army as well as the Marines are being called it. Your main objective is to eliminate en masse the Undead. I don't care how you do it short of a Nuke, just do it, sign up and head off. Federal planes will escort you into the surrounding where you will be transported by helicopters into the main metropolitan area of Seattle, you will receive further briefing on the plane. Suit up and get there."
Pvt Serrano - March 22, 2007 11:55 PM (GMT)
(OOC: Are we doing the RPG here instead of the Battlefield? I'm in either way.)
Alaska - March 23, 2007 09:29 PM (GMT)
(Yeah, only Moderators can post in the battlefield.)
Pvt Serrano - March 23, 2007 10:39 PM (GMT)
(Okay cool. Just let me know if I do something wrong as I am a bit rusty)
As Serrano pulled up to the transport plane, he couldn't help but think about Cedar City. About how, despite his best efforts, he was unable to save his family, even being forced to put a bullet through his own wife's head.
Get a hold of yourself. This is completely different and you know it.
It was true. Back then all he'd had to defend himself with was a handgun. Today he'd brought his Garand, his 870, and his Mac-10 along with his usual Ka Bar and Claire. However, he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen. This very same feeling had prompted him to fill his tac vest's pockets with enough ammunition to invade a small country. As he got out of his peformance modded Mustang, he was met by two agents, one of whom took his car to a storage area. The other agent shook his hand and directed him inside where a few other agents were already sitting down. Serrano loaded his Mac-10 into a quick release holster on his left leg and took a seat, setting his Garand and his 870 on the floor by his feet. He checked to make sure that Claire was secure in her holster and kicked back, waiting for the other agents to arrive so that the briefing could begin.
Maelstrom - March 24, 2007 02:04 AM (GMT)
Warren Harding Jr. checked his equipment for the umpteenth time since boarding the plane. USP Expert with four extra magazines, hollowpoint ammo, check. Incendiary Grenades, check. Remington 11-87 12 Gauge shotgun and slugs, check. PVS-13 night vision scope, check. Bowie knife, check.
The former Delta Operator leaned back and sighed, trying to relax himself as the plane began rolling. This was his first major operation and he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. Zombies, after all, were not your everday run-of-the-mill bad guy. Which is why he'd ditched his usual equipment.
Gone was the dragonskin vest and the kevlar helmet, they weighed him down and were next to useless against bloodthirsty hordes of undead. The multicam BDUs were replaced by a simple black jumpsuit woven with tear-resistant fabric; Zombies used smell more than sight anyways. The high powered assault rifle was dropped in favor of the much more potent shotgun. You only needed one solid round to drop a zombie, any more would be wasting ammunition.
He had all he needed. He was surrounded by battle-hardened and well-trained professionals. They had a clear objective and plenty of support. So why the hell was he so nervous?
Tsumari - March 24, 2007 06:53 AM (GMT)
((I'm in... but too tired to post ATM, save me a spot on the plane!))
Pvt Serrano - March 28, 2007 09:35 PM (GMT)
(Its dying! Don't let it die!)
Serrano looked out the window as the plane began to taxi onto the runway. He'd been on planes many times before although he usually ended up jumping from them into a combat zone. Fortunately he wouldn't have to do that this time if everything went smoothly.
When was the last time anything went smoothly? He thought to himself. It was true. He did tend to attract curious situations. Most of the time everything worked out, but he would always be stuck with the memory of the time that it didn't.
He felt himself being pressed into his seat as the plane took off, leaving the ground and setting a course to Seattle. Once they were in the air, one of the agents, likely the senior agent, stood up and cleared his throat. Serrano pulled his hat over his eyes. He could remember things better without any other distractions.
Rhodes - March 29, 2007 01:11 PM (GMT)
Rhodes stood from just outside the airport security fence, watching as the dreaded agents loaded onto the plane, hands stuffed into his peacoat pockets.
Judder stood only a few feet away, holding a small black box in his left hand.
The FVZA-laden plane eventually taxied and began to take off.
Rhodes looked at Judder with a sideways glance, then nodded once, turning his gaze as the plane flew directly overhead. The roar of the twin jet engines drowning out all other sounds.
Judder pressed the button on the black box and smiled.
Onboard the agents plane, the multiple video screens for watching movies flickered off. Several agents and passengers looked around, confused as to why their in flight movie was interrupted.
A blue screen with big black letters began to marquee across all the monitors.
"To all FVZA. BOOM. Enjoy your flight."
Several people began to get restless, borderline hysterical at the thought of a bomb could be onboard. Flight attendants began to process crowd control while the pilots began their emergency checks.
Rhodes turned after watching the plane bank sharply.
"That should give them some added stress. No sense in letting them have a relaxing flight," he said, passing by Judder as he moved towards a beat up Chevrolet.
Time for some real fun.
Judder - March 29, 2007 07:18 PM (GMT)
Judder grins for a moment as he turns towards the car.
He speaks out loud what his mind thinks.
"Im glad ive banged and fanged my share of Airline Stewardesses."
Rhodes - March 29, 2007 09:54 PM (GMT)
Rhodes jerked the door open to the SS monte carlo with a loud creak smiling shortly.
"Sometimes its not all about the boom...but of the havoc on the mind. A former associate of mine once said, 'tis not the art of war, but the war in art that achieves greatness'," Rhodes replied as he and Judder got into the dilapidated vehicle.
Judder glanced over with a questioning look regarding the reference.
Rhodes interpreted the look immediately.
"Former trainee, just before i slit his throat and tossed him over a cliff during a mission.....for giving our position away," finished Rhodes with dramatic flair, grinning from ear to ear.
The engine sputtered to life as the two drove away from the airport.
Pvt Serrano - April 1, 2007 06:55 PM (GMT)
Damn I hate when I'm right Serrano thought to himself, reading the message on the screen in front of him. The senior agent had nearly started the briefing when suddenly all of the screens had changed. Inside the plane was a mixed bag, some panicked, some simply regarded it as a hoax. Unfortunately, the passenger next to him was panicking.
"Oh my GOD! We're all gonna die! Somebody! Please! Make it stop!" he screamed, attempting to get out of his seat.
Serrano shoved him back down with his left arm.
"RELAX." he ordered, shutting the man up "we're gonna be fine. Just chill out."
The senior agent again stood up after a brief talk with the plane's Captain.'
"Listen up! We've had a change of plans! While initial scans indicate that there is not in fact a bomb on this plane, we've decided that it would be too risky to stick to the original mission outline as somebody apparently already knows about it. As such, we will not be stopping to transfer to choppers. Instead, the pilot of this plane will fly directly over the target area. Agents will parachute into the LZ and proceed from there. Chutes are up front, come and get 'em"
Didn't expect this... Serrano thought to himself, strapping on his parachute and returning to his seat.
Alaska - April 1, 2007 08:36 PM (GMT)
[Not trying to be rude, but did you all miss the part of my post where I said, ;"e; "Federal planes will escort you into the..." not Public airlines. So, the bad thing could go either way as far as validity goes, however, there wouldn't be any screaming passengers.]
Rhodes - April 2, 2007 12:10 AM (GMT)
[depends on which of the new recruits were wussbags...hehehehe... might still be some screaming and scenes of panic...always some newb npc's to fuck with]
Pvt Serrano - April 2, 2007 01:13 AM (GMT)
( I agree with Rhodes. There's always some people, even if they're highly trained, who freak out in times of crisis. These guys are used to fighting vampires and zombies, not dealing with bombs. Kind of a "Game over, man!" type of thing.)
Cyber78 - April 2, 2007 03:59 AM (GMT)
OOC: I'm back and ready to go. As said in the bulk email just sent out, great job guys.
And now to retcon what's been going on how about we just say that the agency rented out a 737 from United Airlines for the trip and a few of the rookie agents flipped out.
IC: I wasn't particularly fond of Seattle anymore. Not since that little op we did a few months ago where the vampires were waiting for us. It wasn't a pretty battle by anyone's standards, and neither side was spared a fair amount of carnage. Although I suppose technically it was a victory since we cleared out most of the zombies, the Order still had a presence in the city that made it difficult to do cleanup jobs afterwards. Ever since the initial op we'd had to make several trips back hear to clean up zombies that we missed, but each time we'd never been able to finish due to a sniper that was now infamous at the agency. Maybe, just maybe if we'd had the proper intel for the mission, maybe if we'd had some support from the police, maybe if the ACLU hadn't held that zombie rights protest we could've done the job. But alas, shit happens and someone's gotta clean it up.
So there I was sitting on an airplane bound for Seattle where the consequences of failure was rearing it's ugly head. The good news was that the National Guard had the quarantine zone pretty well secured from what I'd been told. Plus it wasn't as if the entire city had been infected. The bad news was that we had to do all the dirty work inside the quarantine zone. The other bad news was that as is the case with any disaster, people had gone bat shit crazy, especially those who weren't infected. It was unusual. On one hand the mature part of me knew that I was likely going into a life or death situation where death wasn't too distant. On the otherhand I felt ready to go.
My ankle had healed up pretty well, my wrist still had a cast on it for support but it was fully usable just so long as I didn't try karate chopping some zombie. I was packing an M1911 for a sidearm, and an M-14 as my primary weapon. Dressed in a gray jumpsuit and wearing a matching cap I looked more like an exterminator than a soldier, which was appropriate considering the nature of my work.
By the time I was done checking over my weaponry and equipment I was pretty pumped and ready to go. There wasn't anyway this mission could go wrong in my mind. That is until I heard we were going to parachute in. At first it sounded pretty damn cool in my head, going in all special forces style and whatnot. But after a second it hit me, we were jumping into Seattle. Now although I wasn't too far from the real Windy City, I wasn't too sure that the Pacific Northwest was exactly going to be a cakewalk. And it didn't exactly hurt that I'd never parachuted once before in my life.
Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane? I asked myself as I got out of my seat and retrieved a parachute.
Maelstrom - April 2, 2007 04:03 PM (GMT)
This was why I was so nervous. The phrase accompanied an internal sigh as the FVZA agent stood and filed down the hall. They never go according to plan. Why don't they EVER go according to plan!?
But it was too late to complain or whine. Their cover was blown and a change of plans was the prudent thing to do no matter how you looked at it. It was also a way of satisfying whoever it was that screamed like a sissy.
Amazing. Trained to face off against supernatural undead hordes and they flip out at the first sign of hocus-pocus. So much for trained professionals.
Nevertheless, most of the people here knew what they were doing. Including Harding himself, who checked his own parachute before securing the straps of the man in front of him. Years with the Rangers and Delta had ingrained the art of parachuting into his very bones and the movements came as second nature to him. But perhaps not so much to the man infront of him. A man who Harding suddenly recognized as one of the Special Agents in his last Seattle op. And he didn't seem to happy with the idea of parachuting.
"Sir, you okay?"
Cyber78 - April 5, 2007 03:01 AM (GMT)
No big deal, you've seen this done before. Just think back to that one movie with the elephant in Vietnam... Operation Dumbo Drop I think it was... Lovely... I'm about to jump out of an airplane and my only reference on what I'm doing is a Disney movie... I thought.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just ate some bad deep dish pizza, that's all." I replied to the agent behind me who was looking over my chute.
Well I think that was the worst lie I've ever told. Since when was there such thing as bad deep dish pizza? Oh right, sausage pizza. Yuck, sausage as good as it is never belongs on pizza. I thought to myself as I secured my gear in preparation for jumping into the equivalent of a shark tank.
Zippo - April 5, 2007 03:25 AM (GMT)
Sam had quietly set down in a seat beside his friend Cyber. When the bomb threat came up on the screen he snorted dericivly at the newbie's panic. He'd been swabing the barrel of his 'new' M-79 grenade launcher. The old M1898 had served it's time, saving his life many times and had earned itself a place over the fireplace.
He stood up, slung his second bandolier of rounds over his HBT shirt. His whole uniform was an eclectic mess of the past half centuries uniforms. Sam's pants were old marine pattern, his boots rubber marine jungle boots. He slid broke the M-79, slid in a round of buck, stepped through the mess to the front.
"Goddamn parachutes!" He proclaimed grabbing one of the devices off the rack. He patted the guy behind Cyber on the back, "I hate this shit. At least you know you'll hit the ground." Sam had learned how to jump in a rather drunken service exchange tour with the Royal Marines and wasn't sure he could trust his memory.
Pvt Serrano - April 5, 2007 03:28 AM (GMT)
(Thanks for fixing the problem for me, Cyber)
Reminds me of that airdrop in Afghanistan Serrano thought with a smile. Here he was, years out of the military, and yet he was about to jump out of a plane into a combat zone. Not usually something that makes you smile. It was then that he remembered the old song his jump teacher had made him memorize.
"He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright
He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar,
You ain't gonna jump no more!
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die,
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die,
Gory, gory, what a helluva way to die,
He ain't gonna jump no more! "
The skittish agent behind him was obviously a bit perturbed
"Hey man! C...C...Can you cut that out?" Serrano smiled and continued, skipping to a later verse. Hopefully it would keep the other guy nervous enough so he'd be on his guard.
" He hit the ground, the sound was "Splat," his blood went spurting high,
His comrades then were heard to say: "A helluva way to die!"
He lay there rolling round in the welter of his gore,
And he ain't gonna jump no more. "
"Come on man! Cut it out!"
"There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the chute,
Intestines were a'dangling from his Paratrooper suit,
He was a mess; they picked him up, and poured him from his boots,
And he ain't gonna jump no more."
"Seriously! Stop it!"
Serrano sighed. "Lighten up, man. Jesus, you're more scared'n a lost dog in Chinatown. You'll be fine. These chutes almost always work."
Zippo - April 5, 2007 03:48 AM (GMT)
He grinned wickidly at the jittery man in line ahead of him, "Now don'y worry yer head boy just get out and pull the cord and you'll live long 'nough for a zombie to eat your lower intestine!"
As the other man blanched, Sam stepped up in line so he was behind Serrano, who was behing Cyber, and the other kid, "Good to see you in on this. Not enough of these ones know what they're doing."
Pvt Serrano - April 5, 2007 04:03 AM (GMT)
"You've got that right. These guys don't even know the words to 'Blood on the Risers'! What has this world come to?" Serrano replied with a laugh.
"Its not funny!" The nervous agent protested.
"Don't make me sing more of it, Scooter." Serrano grinned, wagging his finger. The man promptly shut up. Suddenly, a voice came over the intercom.
"All agents! We'll be at the LZ in three minutes! I repeat, go for jump in three minutes!"
"Alright!" Serrano rubbed his hands together "Peace through superior firepower!" He patted Claire and made sure his other guns wouldn't come off in the jump.
Zippo - April 5, 2007 04:20 AM (GMT)
"Ahmen brother, ahmen," Sam said tapping the launcher's barrel with his finger. At times of stress he always tried to puzzle out where Sarah was at that time. She was probably on patrol already, making her traffic stops along I-81. Way more peacful than leaping from an airplane into a hot LZ, "I went into tracks to avoid this crap!"
Sgt. Sarah Forrest of the Maryland State Police hit the flashers on top of her crusier. The car ahead of her had been going about 90 mph in a forty zone. She swore at her luck, getting reassigned from her regular beat to cover this back roads stretch. Her hand was on her USP as she aproached the driver side door, "Licsense and regis-"
Two shots rang out, tires spinning the car took off as Sarah slumped to the ground bleeding from the neck and chest. Another car came by minutes later, slowing upon seeing the open door of the crusier. A farmer stepped out of his truck, he gasped at the sight of the bloody woman in front of it.
Cyber78 - April 5, 2007 04:33 AM (GMT)
"I'm not so sure what this rookies so panicked about, but I can't say I've met too many people this enthusiastic about challenging gravity to an duel. Laws of physics tend to be pretty rigorously enforced in this dimension." I casually said to the guys behind me who seemed pretty confident about jumping.
"Two minutes to jumping. All agents please report to the cargo bay for jump." Said the voice over the intercom. I checked my watch, it was 11:58pm. Nothing like a midnight jump to make things a bit more interesting.
"But don't you pray for my soul anymore, two minutes to minute, the hands that threaten doom." I sang to myself as I began walking towards the cargo bay on the underside of the plane.
Pvt Serrano - April 5, 2007 04:48 AM (GMT)
"A C-130 this is not" Serrano commented. The 747's cargo bay was cramped and hot. Ol' Scooter the nervous didn't really help out much. He figeted and groaned, obviously the guy was never in the Marines.
"I'm gonna die...I just know it..." he lamented. Serrano let out what had to be his hundredth sigh since getting onto the plane.
"You ain't gonna die. Just remember your training and-" There was a gust of wind and a loud noise as the cargo bay door opened. "Woah." For the first time tonight, he actually felt like agreeing with the guy. What used to be downtown Seattle now resembled a warzone. Fires burned everywhere, emanating from unseen sources. Small flecks of light from muzzle flashes twinkled in the streets. Hell, there was even what looked like a crashed news chopper to top it off. All of this was visible because the plane was only about 500 feet off the deck, a nice height for a combat jump.
"Looks like Kabul in October '01!" he shouted over the wind. "'Cept I ain't getting shot at this time!" There was a loud ping as a few bullets pinged of the liner's fuselage. Probably some dumbass anarchist or gangsta trying to take on "the man".
"I stand corrected..."
Maelstrom - April 5, 2007 12:11 PM (GMT)
Harding had almost succumbed to the silent chuckles when the door opened. He liked this line of work, and he was sure warmin' up to the guys around him. And it really WAS truly a shame that the beauty of "Blood on the Risers" was lost on the younger ones.
Sophisticated taste, he guessed, only came with age.
He finished checking the straps of the man before him and patted his pack. He had the distinct feeling that this man's bowel problems didn't relate to any deep dish pizza, but he held his tongue. As long as the man knew to pull the cord at the right time, gravity would do the rest, they would be fine.
And then the door opened. Smoke billowed out from the earth below, the great concrete and steel highrises were enrobed in the orange glow of uncontrolled fires. Flickering lights in the distance signaled still more blazes and Harding was reminded of a few choice combat scenarios from his past. Not too many of them were very appealing.
Kabul in '01 was right. And then the gunfire started.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but Gs usually don't use guns, right?" he yelled as the smoke-filled wind blew into the cabin.
Alaska - April 5, 2007 09:15 PM (GMT)
A shot rang out into the night as another Zombie fell and hit the ground. Hard. Agent Alaska stood with a smoking Night Hawk out in front of him, then blinked as he fired another shot, then another, accompanied by body thumps. The group of soldiers behind him were at the moment indisposed, as they still didn't believe in the whole '
'Zombie nonsense'. Alaska grinned and fired another round.
Turning around he spoke, "Soldiers, this is at the same time the weakest and yet the strongest enemy you will ever encounter. You can unload an entire clip into one of those and they won't stop, if even for a little bit. A shotgun round to the chest will only cause them to flicker in their rock hard desire to devour you. A Fifty-cal AA round to the chest may knock them down- But they'll get right up after it." He paused to release the magazine from his pistol and then swiftly hammered another clip in and cocked the Night Hawk. "The easiest way to kill a zombie is by their head. Case closed. When a Zed is shambling at you raise your firearm and always aim for the head. It doesn't matter if it takes one round or five just so long as you down that Sonuvabitch." Pausing briefly to check the area, he resumed, "One of the most important aspects of the Undead is one barrier that I have had soldier after soldier stop firing because of, that these are really just people. Well that's absolutely true, except for that they are not human beings any more. They do not love, they do not hate, they do not think except for the perpetual wanting of flesh and blood any time day or night. So get your asses in gear and go kill some zombies"
After spending a few hours on typical patrol, Alaska ordered the return to the Mobile Command Point by way of their Humvee. Unfortunately, Seattle was a big city, and it was dark, and there were numerous zombies along the way. Lucky for them, however, was an official Federal Vampire and Zombie Agency Agent who also happened to be an ex-Navy SEAL and was accompanied by a group of soldiers from the greatest military on Earth. It took them ten minutes.
Those ten minutes later Alaska was riding in a Humvee to the mobile command center. He had been in Seattle for over a day now and was waiting for the 'Re-enforcements' to arrive. As soon as he arrived to the CP he checked his watch, it read 11:59. Were it a normal city day he would not have heard the plane coming, except it was not a normal city day, and within mere moments he heard the load-as-hell plane engines roaring into the city. He smiled.
Cyber78 - April 6, 2007 02:22 AM (GMT)
"Well I'll be damned, to think that this used to be such a nice town. Even if you did have to take in the rear for a cup of coffee." I muttered as I looked down on the city of Seattle. It was resembling London during the Blitz down there with fires blazing. What was once a pretty good city was now going to hell in a hand basket.
"New orders just came in from high command gentlemen! Your first objective is to secure some key buildings at the University of Washington. The main priorities are the medical center, the stadium and the bridge crossing the Lake Washington Ship Canal. They want to use the university as a refuge for survivors who can't make it to the national guard on the outskirts of town. The national guard wants the medical center open as soon as possible to treat the wounded since they haven't got enough helicopters available to airlift them out. They also want the stadium to use as a fortified refuge camp. And it just so happens that we'll need that bridge in order to cover the rear flank." Shouted a man with a radio who then displayed a satellite image for our benefit;
Maelstrom - April 6, 2007 02:33 AM (GMT)
Shit, that's a pretty big area to cover...
His thoughts were interrupted as another round pinged off the door and ricocheted into one of the padded seats. Staying in the air was becoming less appealing by the minute.
Who the hell's shootin' at us?
There was no time to wonder about that now. They weren't even on the ground yet; there was nothing he could do about the groundfire unless he was ON the ground. Which brought him to the sticking point of the moment. They needed to get off the plane and get to work.
"How long until LZ?" he wondered out loud. Maybe someone will answer...
Pvt Serrano - April 6, 2007 02:38 AM (GMT)
"Alright! That's my kinda stuff! Nona that long-range crap!" Serrano shouted excitedly.
"THIRTY SECONDS!!!" An agent by the door yelled. "Hit the ground and secure that Med Center!." The atmosphere got tense very quickly. No one spoke. They were too focused on getting pumped for the drop.
"TEN SECONDS!!! GOD BE WITH YOU!!!"
Those ten seconds seemed like forever. Muscles flexed as the agents prepared to exit. Suddenly, there was an ear-piercing buzz, the signal to jump.
"GO! GO! GO!"
The line of agents charged out of the plane. Serrano ran as fast as he could and leapt out into the night air. Quickly, he pulled the cord, feeling a huge jerk as the chute opened, slowing his descent. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now all he had to do was land safely, clear out the city, and get out without being shot or eaten.
"Piece of cake. No problem whatsoev-" He stopped mid-sentence "Oh goddammit. Spoke too soon again." Below him a lone zombie had aquired visual contact, stretching his arms up in anticipation of a meal.
"Not today buddy." About ten feet from the ground, Serrano cut his shoot away, falling a short distance. Fortunately, the zombie's head was there to break his fall. There was a sickening crunch as Serrano's combat boots smashed the G's skull.
"Aw damn. Got Zack on my new boots." Serrano said, unslinging his Garand.
Cyber78 - April 6, 2007 03:12 AM (GMT)
Ok John, you can do this. Just jump and pull when the other guys do, it's nothing you can't handle. Just jump and pull the cord.
Just pull the cord? What do you do when that cord fails on you?
Damn, what do I do if the cord fails...
That's when we die.
Well as they say, if at first you don't succeed, skydiving isn't for you.
Going skitzo isn't too good of a sign, and this wasn't the time to be having second thoughts. Not when we all heard the buzz and agents started jumping off the plane. The sound of the signal to go, the other agents shouting, people jumping to their possible dooms in an inferno mixed with a necropolis wasn't the most thrilling situation to be in. But despite that there was a job to do, a job that I was nervous about doing but did non the less. In what felt like a split second it was my turn to jump, the moment of truth.
I took one last look around the cargo bay, turned around towards the door and hit the floor running. It seemed like my run to the door was over before it even started as I was flying through the air, rushing to meet the ground before I even knew what was happening.
Huh... well this is an awkward feeling. Now what is it that I'm supposed to be doing... I know I'm missing something.
Pull the cord! Do you want to look like cherry and peach jell-o when you get down there?!
Oh right... need air resistance to counter-act the effects of gravity.
I yanked the cord to release the shoot but what was actually under a second felt like eternity, the rushing of the wind past my ears loud and roaring. Finally the parachute unfurled, and I felt the sharp yank of the air catching me and dramatically reducing my speed. Just like slamming on the brakes of a car, and with all the grace of doing it at 80mph with a seatbelt tighter than a frog's butt in a watermelon seed fight.
It wasn't long before I hit the ground, even if it felt like I'd never come down only the ground I hit wasn't quite the target I was shooting for. While I wanted to land on the roof of the medical center I somehow drifted off course a bit to the north. As I saw myself drifting away from the stadium I'd used as a reference I was wonder where I'd land, and I hoped it wasn't too far.
When I did come down it was in quite possibly one of the most infamous places you could think of when in the midst of zombies. The cemetery. I hit the ground fairly hard, luckily the ground was soft and my ankle was well padded inside my boot. When I came down I lost balance, fell against a tombstone and regained my bearings. I knew I was in a cemetery north of my intended target zone, which meant I just needed to go south, where I would inevitably end up at one of the objectives.
But there wasn't time to waste. I knew full well that there were several zombies in the cemetery with me, and that once the fight for the university had begun more would pour in from the north. Therefore I'd be in the path of a rather large zombie swarm, and I only had 228 rounds of ammunition on me total. I ditched the parachute, raised my rifle and scanned for zombies in my path.
Zippo - April 6, 2007 03:44 AM (GMT)
Sam waited a little longer at the side, he'd stepped out of line, before jumping into the night. He pulled the ripcord and with a jerk his dowward travel slowed. Somehow he had timed his jump well enough to land on the north side of the bridge. How many other agents would come this way was a mystery to him he just knew there was something attractive about being near the water. Part of him hoped to see a platoon of Amtracs chugging up the canal.
The ground was soft, muddy, but soft alongside the treeline near his target. The road was only a few yards to his left. He sliced the 'chute harnass worked his M-79 loose just in time to put a blast into a mob of zombies. A few of the shredded creatures staggared towards him still.
Sam withdrew a HE round, reloaded and tried to finish them off. He heard a smattering of gunfire behind him and ahead of him to the right. Loading as he jogged towards his target he was surprised that he didn't come across any more live zombies, but more dead ones scattered about.
He walked onto the road with not a undead bastard in sight.
"Who, Who goes there?" Came a jittery voice from the darkness where he could just make out a sand bag bunker.
Sam raised his hands with his weapon in one hand and his FVZA ID in the other, "Agent Forrest, FVZA."
"Okay, okay come forward."
He thanked god that these guardsmen weren't too worked up. It was a well fortified position but he was surprised to see only three haggrad looking men, one a corporal, a Lieutenant, and a private.
"How long you guys been here?"
"First day, we're glad to see ya. The rest of my platoon is dead, " The lieutenant said wearily, "How many?"
"A whole group of agents, they're going in on the university med center and the stadium now. This is supposed to be the emergancy evac," Sam said ducking into the low emplacment, "This looks to be a-"
"FUCK!" Yelled the corporal who was at a M60 machine gun. There looked to be a whole battalion of zombies coming down on them.
Sam realized he'd need a clear field of fire so he ducked back out behind the sandbagged wing of the min-fort.
Pvt Serrano - April 6, 2007 04:12 AM (GMT)
Serrano kicked the brains off his boots and evaluated his surroundings. A gust of wind had blown him away from the other agents. Fortunately, it also seemed to have blown him away from the zombies as well. The streets were completely deserted except for the G that he'd just offed. He ran upto the nearest building and began moving down the street, sweeping his Garand from side to side, looking for contacts.
Place is a freakin' ghost town. Where the hell is Zack?
Zombies were soon to be the least of his worries. A few seconds later, the unmistakable sound of a near miss buzzed by his head. Some jackass was shooting at him. He quickly jumped behind a nearby car.
"CEASE FIRE! FVZA!" he shouted. Instead of stopping, the shooter continued to fire. Apparently this guy wasn't much of a sniper. He fired quickly and didn't relocate, allowing Serrano to zero in on his location. Quickly, he raised his rifle and put a round in a window across the street. There was a yelp of pain as a figure tumbled out of the third story window, landing with a squishy thump on the concrete below. Serrano waited a few moments and approached the lifeless body, rolling it over with the barrel of his rifle.
"Well kiss my ass, what have we here?" Although the top of the guy's head was gone, it was very clear that the wannabe sniper wasn't human.
"Got some vamps in town. All the more fun for me."
From off to his left, he heard a soft moaning, coming from a few blocks away. He turned to see exactly what he'd hoped he wouldn't run into. A huge mob of zombies had picked up his scent and was moving in on his 20. Serrano moved to a nearby overturned car and set up a position, resting his rifle on the undercarraige. Slowly and methodically, he fired off seven more shots, each one downing a zombie. However, for each one killed, another one was there to replace it.
The Garand ejected the spent clip. Quickly, Serrano slapped a new one in and continued firing.
ChaoticNeutral - April 6, 2007 04:14 AM (GMT)
*a man stood for seemingly no reason near by. his apearal was odd for these times. he wore a black cloak hiding the leather armor he had underneath, and a schimitar and two daggers. his face was hidden by a Bauta Masquerade mask and he had a truck next to him. he looked around at the agents running by and signalled for one of them to come by when one of the lower ranked agents finally came by he spoke before the agent could tell him to leave the area.*
"I want you to go find one of your superiors and tell them to come here, i have business to conduct." *the masked man said and dismissed the agent before he could ask any questions.*
Maelstrom - April 6, 2007 08:38 AM (GMT)
The USP bucked in his hand as another half-rotten corpse reverted to its natural state.
God damn, this place is SWAMPED!
His left hand fought to unbuckle the parachute; what was once the only thing between himself and certain death was now a woeful hinderance to much-needed mobility.
Harding gritted his teeth and kept firing. All he needed to do was keep the massive horde at bay until he could free himself and go to town with the shotgun. Trouble was, the parachute seemed to have snagged itself on something... and his sidearm had just clicked empty.
"To hell with this." he spat.
In one fluid motion, the former Delta Operator drew his bowie knife and slashed the infernal device away. Now free, he quickly reloaded and began selectively engaging more zombies as he made his way toward high ground and more narrow spaces. In the distance, he could hear gunfire as other FVZA agents began to take the medical center.
For the third time in the evening, Harding cursed himself for landing in the wide open space of the Stadium. And for the first time in the evening, he prayed to God that someone else was heading this way.
"Well done, Harding. Real good fucking job you're doin'."
With that, he went back to shooting.
Rhodes - April 6, 2007 12:06 PM (GMT)
Rhodes sat on a grundgy motel bed watching the television, his trademark silenced .22 sitting between him and an unconscience hooker.
"And in Seattle, reports are coming in that a massive plague of some unknown origin has swept thru the city at alarming rate. CDC officials state that the city is under quarantine and anyone around the surrounding area to seek medical attention immediatedly. City officials have dispatched national guard units to help with the containment of the epidemic..."
Rhodes sneered at the news reporter.
Hmph. Fuckin retards. Can't just say the word 'zombie'r. Like the dirty lil secret about vampires everyone knows but is afraid to say outloud. I sure hope them agents are up on their shots and have a deep supply of tighty whiteys. Some are comin home in bags for sure.
The bloodsucking assassin checked his cellphone and noticed a message was waiting. He sat the phone down on the bedside table and lit a smoke, taking a long drag.
Maelstrom - April 6, 2007 01:17 PM (GMT)
"Any FVZA Agent, I repeat ANY FVZA agent, this is Assault Agent Harding requesting fire support," Warren Harding Jr. panted into his radio has he unloaded yet another buck shot into the Undead horde, "My 20 is the lighting booth of the Husky Stadium and I've got beaucoup bad guys swarmin' to my position- oh SHIT!"
The assault agent managed to turn his shotgun and fire just in time as one of the Gs forced himself through a crack in the opposite door. The buckshot splattered the thing's head across the wall and its body slumped, blocking the entrance. Not satisfied, Harding moved in and further blocked the hole with an overturned chair.
"I repeat, I have a lot of Gs moving in to my position. I'm holdin' down the fort, but I can't last forever here. ANY nearby FVZA Agent, please help."
Pvt Serrano - April 6, 2007 07:46 PM (GMT)
A loud metallic ping sounded as the Garand ejected its final clip. The noise of a decaying corpse hitting the pavement followed soon after. It had taken every single one of his rifle's 30.06 rounds to stop the approaching mob. Fifteen clips, one hundred twenty bullets. Problem was, he now lacked any means of somewhat ranged combat. Claire had a scope, but she was still a handgun, unable to hit targets with the range of a long gun. Serrano slung his Garand and drew Claire anyways. She might not have range, but she had accuracy, something very important to have when fighting zombies.
"Damn. Where's a gun store when you need one?"
For the first time since landing, he stopped to assess his surroundings. Currently, he was South of the University in a suburban area. If his memorization of the map was right, around the next corner he should be able to see a river, a bridge crossing said river, and the University's stadium.
"Well, I'll be! Guess I still got it!" He exclaimed, rounding a corner. Ahead of him was everything that should have been, as well as a few things that shouldn't. The stadium was in plain sight as well as the bridge. However, there were sounds of gunfire coming from the stadium. More importantly, there were about five zombies between him and the bridge.
"Better get to work." Serrano started jogging towards the bridge, stopping when he met the first zombie. He raised Claire and fired, the powerful .50 Magnum hollow-point round literally liquefying its head. Serrano felt the massive recoil and allowed the gun to jump back onto his right shoulder. He quickly recovered and made his way towards the next zombie. All of a sudden, a thought entered his head
Where's all the radio traffic?
He looked down to see that his radio had somehow been turned off in the landing. With a frustrated grunt, he turned it on in time to recieve a scrambled message.
"Lighting booth...Stadium.....Nearby FVZA...help!"
"Well I guess that's me." Serrano said, putting another round into the next G's head.
Alaska - April 6, 2007 09:26 PM (GMT)
With a roar jetted out several ATVs onto the empty roads of Seattle, moments prior Alaska had received word of an agent getting stopped up in Husky Stadium, as soon as he had gotten wind of it he took off on an ATV the agency had provided and was speeding through Seattle at close to a hundred miles per hour, riding attached to the rear of the ATV was the M240G Medium Machine gun, though the Military had brought it, HQ had ordered Alaska to accompany a small group of soldiers, each with the same machine gun en tow. Hooked onto the front of the ATVs as well were numerous boxes of ammunition.
As luck would have it the streets were mostly clear, however, luck did not have it for whatever agent was at the stadium, because that's where all the Undead were moving toward. It gave Alaska and the soldiers ample room to spread out and maximize speed, cutting the normal time in half at least.
As they approached the stadium he could just start to make out the gunfire, in minutes he had reached the stadium and after checking up on his PDA he jetted toward the parking lot. Following that he circled around the stadium and wound up at the rear of it, briefly following that he maneuvered the ATV up a hard incline and into the area of the stadium where all the vendors would have been stationed. After determining the direction of the gunfire, Alaska started off on the ATV again until he rounded onto the skirmish.
Viewing the hellish scene before him as undead were piling up to where he now knew agent Harding was, he surveyed the area briefly, then lifted the M240G and ran it down to a small post, hooking it on before returning with several ammunition boxes. Following that he loaded a 500-round chain into the feed before letting loose the hell onto awaiting Undead.
From around the lighting booth Zombies began falling like flies. The MMG had ripped them apart, regardless of where it hit another Undead had its innards removed or its head permanently separated from its body. It took less than five minutes to clear the Zombies from around the booth, after waiting for a time allowing the ringing to stop in his ears, he clicked on his radio and spoke, "Agent Harding this is Alaska, I've successfully cleared the migs surrounding your area, you are advised to move to my location ASAP, US soldiers are carrying MMGs and large amounts of ammunition as well as myself. Repeating, I have successfully cleared the Migs surrounding your area, all agents within the immediate vicinity of the Husky Stadium are advised to move to my location ASAP. US Soldiers are carrying Medium Machine Guns as well as large amounts of ammunition. Alaska out."
Maelstrom - April 7, 2007 12:19 AM (GMT)
The Zombie corpses were son numerous that they had begun to form a dam around the lighting booth, somewhat stemming the flow of incoming Gs. The bad news was, he only had five rounds left for his shotgun.
Then the sweet sound of machinegun fir reached his ears and he almost whooped out loud. Ducking behind the control panel, he waited until the overwhelming fire stopped and he rose to behold the godsend before him. An ATV, fully armed and armor, parked right out in the field.
"Alaska, this is Harding, thanks for the help. God damn, you're a sight for sore eyes." he panted as he carefully extracted himself from the lighting booth, "I'm moving to your position now."
He carefully scanned his surroundings and was somewhat satisfied to note that there were no MOVING corpses. He slipped an extra slug into his shotgun and began swiftly making his way down the steps, cursing himself for choosing the isolated position. Then again, it was a good idea at the time.
Pvt Serrano - April 7, 2007 12:57 AM (GMT)
"Well hello there, gorgeous!"
Serrano had just ran into something that made his day. On his way to the bridge, he had stumbled across a godsend. Somebody had left a fully gassed Harley Davidson Night Rod lying in the middle of the road. With a grunt, Serrano hefted it upright and started it, the V-twin engine rumbling to life with a satisfying purr. He straddled the bike and gave it some gas, spinning the back tire as he took off up and over the bridge, arriving just in time to see that he had missed all the action. Several agents stood in the middle of the field, an extremely large amount of dead zombies piled up around the area. Serrano rode up to them and dismounted.
"Damn. Guess I missed the action. Any of you guys seen the rest of the squad?" he said, loading a few loose .50 Magnum rounds into Claire's current clip.
"I got blown off course and separated from the others. Ran into a vamp and some zombies. Which reminds me. Anyone got some spare 30.06 ammo? Zack ate all of mine."