Written by Bub
The following is a first-hand account of action, and experience embedded with local Liovian militias.
Gone are the days when the public address system (PAS) was used for severe weather alerts or aerial raids. Anymore, the deafening blast is an immediate call to action. The audible signal giving locals a chance to rally.
Tuning the radios and field transceivers to 102.5. The New United Nations (NUN) affiliated HMS Hermes, off the coast of Britain, transmitted relevant intelligence. A day prior, terrorists had bombed a hospital resulting is 34 casualties (28 being fatal). Said terrorist was tracked to Liovian territory, having stolen a helicopter in his escape. Reportedly held up near the river, far to the east. Former Spetsnaz, this target wouldn’t come easily. It was a capture or kill order. Return with intel. Secure or disable the transport.
Embedding myself with the locals. Independent operators, members of the Livonian Defense Force (LDF) and myself, rendezvoused west of Grabin. A total of 5 would attempt the high tier mission.
The march east being a slow, arduous slog. Unaware if the Opposing Force (OPFOR) had constructed his own fortification or held up in an existing structure. It was better to be lost in the woods, than run a foot an armed tripwire. Additional intel drove us further east, past Wolisko Lake. There, on the north bank of the river was a crude, albeit sturdy, log cabin. Above it, on a ridge in the clearing, was a black little bird helicopter.
Our approach along both sides of the river meant we also spotted two watchtowers, clearly this suspect was expecting company. The front door of the cabin was on its north face, facing the clearing. A hatch on the roof stood open, yet inaccessible. Any attempted entry would require completely exposing oneself (whether you had pants on or not) in a mad dash for the main entry.
Having partially encircled the location, the noose began to tighten. BlooZ, having been on point, was first to receive a greeting. From the northeast watchtower (W1), coming in the form of .50 BMG, doing a cool 3,000 feet per second (FPS). Young BlooZ dropped. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have guessed the massive projectile had stripped his pants right off.
This left the LDF’s Wolf and Dark on the south bank. Wolf worked to secure the southern watchtower (W2). While Aldorean and I remained in the tree line to the west. Dark crossed the river. Exposing himself as he approached the helicopter, he too caught 600 grams of lead.
Wolf’s river crossing didn’t go much better, having taken a round in the leg. He was severely wounded when he regrouped with Aldorean and I. Communication issues resulted in friendly fire, Hobbitisme becoming another casualty. Wolf limped west, deeper into cover. Their injuries relegating LDF to the role of ‘support’.
This left Aldorean and I in quite the position! Fallback? Or investigate? Aldorean continued his push east along the tree line, progressing ever closer W1. I made another dash for the cabin door and received a hail of PKM fire. This again drove me back into the woods, but revealed our target had repositioned, now at W2.
Repositioning myself, I used the hill as cover. Belly crawling, I remained in defilade as I approached the helicopter. A quick search, it was empty. The pen is mightier than the sword. Question is, how many bullets can a press vest absorb? It was a mad dash and another burst of gunfire, but I made it safely to the cabin.
Unlocked, but laden with explosive tripwires. I quickly snapped photos and relayed intel to Aldorean. He quickly joined me inside, despite another flurry of bullets. We were inside but trapped. Totally clueless as to the whereabouts of our elite enemy.
A search of the cabin revealed the methods and components used to construct the bomb. Improvised C4 explosives, disguised among common medical equipment. As well as accelerant in the form of barrels, packed to the brim with propane cylinders and gasoline. With enough supplies here for a second bomb, it’s unclear whether this was the terrorist’s formal hideout or staging for another attack.
We collected evidence. Smoked a last cigarette and planned our escape. Priority was surviving with the intel, but we needed to sabotage the transport. I would distract, Aldorean would drop explosives on the helicopter.
We were at the door… 3.. 2.. 1.
The engine of the helicopter started to spool up. The turboshaft squealed as it needed several seconds to reach speed. Our assailant was attempting to make his escape! Aldorean burst out the door, weapon at the ready. I followed, closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.
I sprinted to the helicopter. The pilot sat limp and contorted. I’ll admit, he was already dead, but I put another good burst into him. We’re living a real-life horror movie after all. In my haste, I damaged the aircraft’s collector and assorted controls. Our flight attempt pitched the machine over and into the river. Sabotaged, indeed.
The significant amount of noise drew a massive horde of infected. Driving Aldorean onto the hood of his yellow Sarka. They chased me to the cabin and up to the roof. After licking our wounds and mopping up, we collected what we could of the intelligence and headed south for debriefing at one of the NUN’s local forward operating bases (FOB).
The loss of life associated with these events is truly harrowing. Those wounded and/or killed in action, attempting to apprehend the terrorist, we appreciate your service.
Allies: BlooZ, Dark, Hobbitisme, Wolf, Aldorean, Bub.
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