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Field of Strife

Modern Day Battlefield

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a part of Field of Strife, by Vio-Lance.

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Vio-Lance holds sovereignty over Modern Day Battlefield, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Modern Day Battlefield is a part of Field of Strife.

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4 Characters Here

Adrian Dawson [0] "Silence. Do you want them to hear you speak?"
Marcus Shepard [0] It takes 43 muscles to frown and 17 to smile but it only takes 3 for a proper trigger squeeze.
Gunnery Sergeant Jackson Thomas Swagger [0] "Okay, don't move. This gun can punch through six people before slowing down."
Viktoryah Galedivtch [0] A russian child soldier, ready to fight for her life, and the life of the Motherland.

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Marcus sat listening to the soldiers conversations in silence. Now was as god a time as any to drink. He opened up his canteen filled with vodka and silently thanked the Russians. It was funny, Marcus had always thought of himself as a patriot til he had gotten to Russia. Now he found he preferred the company of the Russians, they were far less annoying and lazy, plus they had the best alcohol. After hearing a quiet conversation between two Russians Marcus had to wonder why they had called the girl 'puppy'. He silently searched his mind for a moment before coming up with the words. "ПоŅ‡ĐĩĐŧŅƒ вŅ‹ ĐŊаСŅ‹Đ˛Đ°ĐĩŅ‚Đĩ ĐĩĐĩ Ņ‰ĐĩĐŊĐēĐ°?" He wasn't sure he had gotten the grammar right and he had a horrible American accent but the question should be clear. 'Why do you call her puppy?' It seemed an odd name for a soldier, especially in the rough atmosphere of Russia. People were called many things on the battle field but most had stories. Of course it might just be because of her age too. Marcus took a rather large drink of the vodka in his canteen and waited for the answer.

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Adrian's eyes cracked open slightly, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom. His RT-20 laid against his chest, the barrel, resting against his right shoulder. 'Their language is fascinating, wouldn't you agree my old friend?' He thought at his rifle, knowing that it wouldn't talk back. Although his mind was alive with curiosity about what the girl had really said, his face was impassive, bored, and his eyes shown how deeply tired he was. 'I need to rest,' he thought again, 'but alas, the BTR wont roll on smoother ground.' Staring down at the girl once more, his eyes took in her whole form, noting how much she looked like a boy. He smirked slightly, as he remembered his shock when he found out, on accident, why she did not change with the rest of them, even relieved herself alone. The smirk vanished quickly, when he heard the jostle of ammunition within his vest pocket.

Sighing softly, he reached into his right breast pocket, and pulled out a small picture of a dark haired beauty that was his soon to be wife. His eyes grew soft, and his mouth moved slightly, uttering words that were not meant for others to hear. A small smile played across his lips, but quickly vanished, as did the picture, when he noticed one of his new companions was looking at him curiously. He returned that curious stare with a glare of his own, his eyes telling him to mind his own business.They held their stares for a few moments, but in the end, it was Adrian who one, because the other flinched and turned away.

'Please,' he pleaded softly, as he rested his head against the inner steel plating, his eyes closing, "Please. Wait for me, my love. I shall be home soon."

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#, as written by R3aper
Gunnery Sergeant Jackson Swagger frowned at the conversation around him. They were irritating. God they were irritating. 'Oh, right,' he thought, shaking his head. 'I don't believe in him anymore.'

Quelling the unsavery thought, Swagger laid out his rifle across the lap of his spotter sitting next to him...along with two other people that way. With a quick yank, he ripped back the chamber and checked inside, then let it go, pulled the first clip of the day, smacked it on his head, then shoved it in and racked the chamber. It clicked shut with a satisfying metalic snap. Swagger's spotter lifted the gun up and set it between Swagger's legs. "Eyes on that nick in the chamber arm," he grumbled. "It's been growing for a while, and I'm pretty sure it's gonna need fixing eventually. Be careful out there and watch your corners. I know you tend to drift off in the middle of a shoot."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Swagger growled. He wasn't being sarcastic. He was just talking. "Eyes open and wandering away from the scope, got it. You keep your head down and stay away from open spaces."

"Aye, Gunny," growled the spotter. He hadn't been with Swagger for too long. "Shit, kid, you scare me sometimes. Nineteen years old and already fifty eight confirmed kills, almost half of them sniping..."

"I'd be greatful for silence, Sergeant," Swagger growled. He didn't want the others to know about his early start and heavy kill count. They would depend on him. He wouldn't be there when they expected.

Suddenly Swagger became aware of the Russian girl's nickname and looked up. "Sounds like you're well liked by your squadron," he muttered, loud enough to hear but barely so. "Good luck out there, Pup. Chances are you could need it."

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Marcus look into his canteen and sighed before handing it to the soldier next to him. "Pass it around." Drinking increased moral. Moral decreased causalities. Marcus hated losing men. "ВодĐēĐ° ĐŊĐ°Ņˆ вŅ€Đ°Đŗ, ĐŋĐžŅŅ‚ĐžĐŧŅƒ ĐŧŅ‹ иŅŅ‚Ņ€ĐĩйиĐģ ĐĩĐŗĐž." It was an old Russian proverb and it seemed fitting for the situation. 'Vodka is our enemy so we'll utterly consume it'. He laughed thinking back to when he had heard the phrase for the first time and had thought someone was insulting him because he couldn't hold his liquor.

Turning his attention to the girl who had just introduced herself Marcus took her hand and shook as was polite. "Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Shepard, though I prefer Marcus. Its nice to meet you Vikky, though I wish it had been under better circumstance." She was so young, it just seemed wrong to put her on the front lines, but Marcus knew the necessity. He looked back at Adrian, the man did look a little crazy and kinda pathetic. Marcus didn't know much about him but had done a mission with him a while back so he knew he was a good soldier. "Don't mind Adrian. I think he left something important behind but he's good at what he does. I'd be more worried about Swagger there. Guy's a god damn loony toon."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as his canteen floated around the BTR, everyone taking a good drink of it. Damn Russians, as fun as they were to be around it was getting really expensive to buy alcohol. He looked over each man, memorizing the features. He wished he could complain but he knew that at least one of these men wouldn't be riding back with them, it was best to let them drink while they still could.

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'A headache,' Adrian sighed softly, 'Just what I needed right now.' His right eye cracked open, and he glared at the gunnery sergeant for a moment, before finally setting down on the "Puppy," once more. He felt his lips tug into a quick grin as he heard the nickname they had given her, but didn't allow him to smile. 'Why wont they just shut up and let me rest?' He already knew the answer to that, and decided to stay quiet for a few more moments.

"I left half my heart, and all of my soul back in the states," he whispered softly, and pulled out the picture once more. His eyes drifted over the woman's face once more, and replaced the picture back inside his right breast pocket. "Something you wouldn't know, nor understand." His mind roiled, while his face remained as though set in stone, eternally bored. His mind then kicked him for being foolish enough to speak what was on his mind and in his heart, and he jerked slightly. Thankfully, it was masked completely when the BTR hit a particularly nasty pot hole. 'Makes me wonder if the driver is intentionally hitting every damn hole around.'

"The M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System (SASS) is the U.S. Army's latest medium caliber sniper rifle. The 7.62mm SASS delivers a new level of long range precision rapid fire that enables execution of operational missions not possible using manually operated weapon systems. High capacity, quick change magazines enable ammo selection optimization in both the suppressed and unsuppressed firing modes," Adrian said in a loud whisper, "It is new, yes, but it pales in comparison with my RT-20 Anti-Materiel Rifle. Granted, the SASS can hold more ammunition, but can it take out a jeep or a tank in one shot?" His eyes opened to slits, as he stared down at Victoryah, watching her, waiting for her response, while completely ignoring everyone else, including the proffered bottle of vodka.

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Viktoryah smiled. Marcus seemed friendly at least, as did the rest of the Russians.... but the three americans she didn't know just kind of seemed like they would be rather be elsewhere. Swagger didn't seem to like anyone, as he growled, grumbled and groaned nearly every second. Adrian was okay, but he seemed a bit cold. But after his previous statement, it was clear that he had someone close to the heart at home. She would dismiss his cold nature for now. Hopefully he would warm up soon. She turned back to Adrian, looking at his weapon. It was MASSIVE! As spacious as the BTR was, he must've had to hold it at an angle to keep it from hitting the roof. He began to talk about it, and after he was done with his speech, she nodded. "I have heard many things about 20mm anti-matieriel weapons. A man once told me that he saw it punch through vehicle's front end, and literally punch the engine out of the side of the vehicle. The entire engine block was destroyed...." She said. Imagining such power behind balistics was beyond frightening. You could be dead before you know it....

"I am sorry to be the steriotypical russian," She started. "But I am preferable to all of the Auto-Kalashnikov familiy. They are reliable beyond compare. My father always talked about "M-Shitsteens". I am sure that he refers to the M-16 family. The M16A4 is not a bad gun by any means... but it is not as rugged as the AK-74, or any of it's counterparts." She said, looking back down to the floor of the BTR.


Suddenly, their APC came to a stop. And it was only a short time before the sound of the BTR's gun was roaring to life. They were at their destination....Haerbin. Small arms fire could be heard plinking against the ground below them, and bouncing off the armor plating of the BTR. The russian next to the open hatch smirked, and nodded to the rest of them. "This is our stop! Let us give them hell, and we shall have VODKA TONGIIIIGHT!" He said, earning an "Urah" from the russians in the BTR, including Vikky. As they piled out, they went over what they had been told. The russian in front opened the hatches, looking back to the group. "Remember: Callsign, Iron, Response-call, Tiger!" He said, turning to step out of the BTR.

As the soldiers began to get up and pile out, Viktoryah looked to her comrades, and muttered something, just loud enough to be heard over the commotion.
"ĐŖĐ´Đ°Ņ‡Đ¸."

She too, piled out of the BTR-80, and stood up with a mild, quick strech, looking around. The four or five BTRs around them also had troops pouring out of them. The BTRs seemed to had suppressed most of the street fire. She moved away, still using the BTR as cover, before running to the corner of a building, slamming her back against the wall with a grunt. She waited untill the rest of her squad reach her, before anything else....

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Adrian nodded slowly as Viktoryah spoke, warming a small degree towards her. 'Am I actually liking this child?' His mind boggled at the thought, and said, "10 lives for every bullet." It was his favorite, and most accurate, quote about the cannon in his arms. He looked down at her weapons, and was unimpressed, but decided to wait until she had shown him how well she could use them. "To each his, or her, own," he whispered to no one in particular.

Feeling the BTR's sudden stop, he quickly retrieved a 20mm bullet from his vest pouch, one that was completely covered in a black paint. "All pirates shall fear the Black Spot," he whispered, his face twisting into a mask of madness for a few heart beats, before settling back into his normal, bored expression. Cocking the chamber, he exposed it's inner chamber, where he placed the bullet tenderly, after giving it a gentle kiss. He then cocked it again, sealing it in its chamber, and hefted the RT-20 in his arms. When the door opened, he held the cannon as though it were a spear, and charged outside.

Staring about, Adrian searched for a place to set his cannon down. A position where he could enjoy taking out as many people, and vehicles, without being disturbed for too long. Finding none, he looked around for his squad, and found Viktoryah huddled against a wall of a building several yards away. He charged her then, keeping his head down, his cannon, held like a spear once more. A few feet away from her, he spun to his left, narrowly avoiding her by a few inches. "Viktoryah," he said quietly, "Will you come with me? Be my spotter while I start picking off the enemy and their vehicles?" His mind began to wonder why he asked this, but it faded away when training and instinct took over once more.

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#, as written by R3aper
Swagger cracked his neck as the BTR stopped. "I am soldier," he said, slowly getting louder. "I am killer. I am murderer. I AM WAR!"

At the last he shot out of the BTR faster than any man should have been able to move with a massive rifle in his arms. But he was used to this. Swagger swung around the BTR and knelt next to the open ramp, taking aim with his Barret. He pulled the trigger, and a resounding BOOM! echoed even among the other fire. Swagger braced like he was stopping a football player as the recoil tried to rip his shoulder off. The man in his crosshairs exploded into a bloody mess. And the man behind him lost an arm. Satisfied with the shot, Swagger took off in a run after the Pup. He hadn't heard her name. Vik or something. He did know, however, that she was like him. A child soldier. That was one thing, at least, that he could relate to. Since they had no set positions in this raid other than to stick together, Swagger knelt with his back to hers, keeping an eye where she could not. He calmly released his hold on his Barret, pulled his Berreta, and fired a two round burst into a man that had just popped around the other side of the building. "Careful there, Pup," he said, loud and clear. "If three years of fighting doesn't give you eyes in the back of your head, nine months sure as hell don't!"

Swagger kept his gun up. The Berreta, not the cannon held in his left. He didn't want to waste any more of the twenty nine shells he had left. Still, two kills a shot was a good trade. Suddenly, another man popped around the corner, same as the first, and he had a friend. Swagger began squeezing the trigger. "CONTACT!" he roared, standing to guard the Pup with his own body. "Two contacts, direct three of position!"

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Vikky watched as both Adrian and Swagger ran to her position, followed by a few other soldiers, seeking cover. Unfortunately not all of the men made it as the sound of a QBU-88 sounded through the air, and a russian soldier gained a fancy new chest cavity. The man dropped, and another man ran out of cover to grab him, and carry him into cover. It wouldn't take a rocket-scientist to tell that such a cleanly placed center-mass shot was going to be the end of the poor russian.

Suddenly, Vikky was startled as a man came around the corner, and was swiftly gunned down in front of her as she went to raise her rifle. The hot-shot sargent had popped him twice, with a baretta pistol. She didn't hesitate to look down, and shoot him once with her AK, earning another groan from the target. She knew that the 9mm wasn't enough to finish the job, even with well placed shots. But Swagger called out for two more contacts, and Vikky didn't hesitate as soon as she heard the first cry. She raised her rifle, and aimed towards the forward-most enemy, whom was only starting to bring his rifle to his shoulder. Her rifle shouted with the percussion of death as she placed a round in the man's gut, his groin, his right thigh, and his right knee. It was visable that her spacing was much wider than she would've liked it to be...but she was a young girl. She should've gotten props for not shooting her own leg off. The second bogey was now quite aware of his doom, and fired from his literal hip, the QBZ-95 spraying in their direction. Vikky pulled herself and Swagger as close as she could get to the edge of the building, bullets grazing the building as she pulled them into cover. She jabbed her rifle around the corner, leaning lightly before opening fire at the chinese man, whom now desperately sprayed in their direction. She returned the fire, firing about five or six rounds off before finally hitting the chinese man, whom's gun clicked empty, and hunched over, grasping the new hole in his lung. Vikky peeked around the corner, and frowned. She hesitated for a small second, before pulling the trigger, the man getting shot in the chest again. He dropped this time, assumedly out from bodily stress and bloodloss. The 5.45 round tumbled when it entered the body, instead of going straight through, creating a devistating wound.

She pulled her form back completely around the corner, and sighed loudly. "Twenty." She said to herself, holding her rifle to her chest, which was rising up and down rather rapidly now. It was clear that she was still not used to being in close-combat yet. She looked to Adrian and Swagger, and gulped hard. But her eyes solidified. She was nervous, but she wasn't going to run, or panic. She had been in this state before..and she knew how to handle it.

She looked back towards Adrian. "I will be your spotter. But I suggest that we do not go out into that street." She said, pointing to the street that had the dead chinese and in which the russian soldier had been shot. "We had better find a back route..." She looked back to her squad, looking over the heads. Noone really designated a leader.... She sure as hell wasn't it. "M-maybe we should split up?" She said, calmly, looking around. She then realized that the Russian that had been shot was their Captain.... Who was in charge now?

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"No," Adrian said aloud, "We stick together, and find cover." Turning to the gunny, he said, "Swagger, take point. We need to make it to higher ground." He looked around for a moment, then up. "There," he pointed at the four story building about half a block from their position, "We'll head that way, but first," he paused and turned on his radio. "This is First Sergeant Adrian Dawson, whats the enemy status?" He listened as someone began tallying numbers, his face impassive, his eyes as cold as steel. He listened for a moment more, and was about to shut off his radio, when someone shouted, "TANK!" An explosion soon sounded, then static.

"Whats the location of that tank?" He roared into the mic, and was rewarded with a thump on his shoulder. Someone's hand was pointing ahead of him, and as he looked forward, his eyes came upon a Type-96. "Too easy," he whispered, and began to lie down on the ground. He positioned the cannon over his right shoulder, and peered into the scope. Turning it this way, and that, he focused on the tank, aiming the barrel towards the tank's driver, he sang loud and clear, "In nights of dawn, in eternal glory. Songs were sung, they sang my story. O darkness shower, blossom in golden, crimson flower. I am Darkness," The tank rounded a corner, and began to sight its barrel down at their squads' BTR, "sing this night," his voice howled, his eyes were cold, his face, a cracking mass of boredom and madness, "Behold my Power!" The tank rolled to a halt, and was preparing to fire a shell at them, "Eternal Night!" He pulled the trigger, and a resounding peel of thunder erupted around them. The RT-20 leaped a few inches from the ground, as the black bullet shot from the chamber. Traveling at a velocity of 850 meters per second, the projectile smashed into the tank, creating a hole the size of a watermelon, and where the driver of the tank had sat, a puddle of crimson goo stood testimony to the RT-20's power.

Standing up slowly, Adrian's eyes quickly cooled, and his features became, once again, impassive and cold. Cocking the gun, he expelled the shell casing from the chamber of his RT-20, and replaced it with another 20x110mm Hispano bullet. Hefting his cannon, he looked at his squad, and said in a cool, calm voice, "We need to get going. Before another tank decides to show up." At that, he turned, and trotted towards the four story building. An explosion soon occurred, and, turning his head slightly, he noted that the tank's outer haul was smoking, and saw a brief flicker of flames erupting in the back, near the engine. 'I wonder how close I was to the tank, and I wonder if theres a gaping hole in the back.' Shaking his head slightly, he continued forward, the tank, all but forgotten.

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#, as written by R3aper
Swagger cocked an eyebrow. "Negative," he said sternly. "Unless Pup trades rifles with me, that's just wasting soldiers. Mick," he called to his spotter. "Trade out."

His spotter, who'd grabbed the Russian who'd taken a shot to the chest, tossed his M4 Tactical Carbine to Swagger, who returned the favor by tossing Mick the Barret. "Don't fire unless you can smell them," he muttered. Then he took position and awaited the others to assemble behind him. "Mick, keep them straight. Pup, with me up front. We blaze the trail, you show them the way. If you hear gunfire, bunk down until it stops. We'll call back the signal to show it's clear," Swagger rumbled over the noise of combat. Then he stood up, jumped over a body, and shoulder rammed the door of a nearby building in the way they wished to go.

Right off, a Chinese soldier lunged at him, some form of long blade in his hands. Swagger blocked with his rifle, but couldn't use it. 'Game time, Grim,' he thought. Swagger lunged to the right, then to the left, forcing the Chinese blade to follow him and smashing the butt of the gun into the enemy's face on the second lunge. Wasting no time, he reached behind himself, latched onto the machette handle sticking out just behind his waist, then drew it out and blocked the next blow of his enemy. Metal slashed at metal for a pair of precious seconds before Swagger gained the upper hand. He dropped back, accidentally slammed into something behind him, then lunged forward and kicked the foe in the chest as if he was breaking down a door. The man recoiled just enough for Swagger to switch the blade's position in his hand and go in. He lunged low, under the target's guard, and slashed from bottom to top, sparking the blade on the ground before swinging straight up and having to spiral with the motion, making a bloody figure 9 in the air. Just for good messure, Swagger landed smoothly and launched a vicious side kick to the man's ribcage. Bones, weakened by the ferocious slice, cracked and shattered. The man fell back, neatly split at his chest cavity, inards open to the world, dead.

Swagger retrieved his rifle and called back, "Clear!" as he waited for the pup to come up.

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Vikky watched as Adrian near blasted a tank to bits. The 20mm was the highest caliber a weapon came in, equivilent to .79 caliber weapon, 29 higher than a .50 BMG. She would have to remember NOT to mess with that rifle. The chinese tank, while not spectacular or grand in any way for a main battle tank, was still a damn tank. To rough one up like that was beyond a godhand. Her ears rang as the thunder-like percussion of the balistic was still echoing in her ears. Swagger swapped weapons with "Mick", or however you said his name.... She didn't really take note. Once he had an M-4 in his hands, he lead the group into a building. She beckoned for Adrian and Marcus to follow, allong with the rest of their troop. She jumped in just in time to see Swagger engaged with a chinese soldier, whom weilded a blade in a knife like fashion. She was about to pull out her sidearm, and assist, before Swagger almost literally poured his guts out into the room. The odor of his organs filled the air with their putressence...and they weren't even rotted remains yet. Inside of a man smelt terrible...

She nodded to him, before looking down the hallway of a building. Her crouch low, and ready to engage at a moment's notice. Her footsteps were wide and balanced, so she could take cover on either side of the hall if nessicary. She slowly approached the first door, a first floor office of some sort, she was sure. She walked to the door, and placed her shoulder against the wall next to the door. She gripped her rifle tighter, and took a deep breath. She took to a stand, and brought her leg around to kick the oppisite side of the door, as the spetsnaz instructor had showed during a demonstation. The door cracked, and swung open. Almost like water filling a bowl, she moved in the door, staying low, and even dropping to a crouch. She swung her rifle around the room, confirming that it was clear. She made sure that even behind the door was clear, before she spoke in a low accented voice.
"Clear."

She turned around, still having her bayoneted rifle ready. She looked at the door across from the room she was in, hastily moving towards it. She repeated the process, differing her tactics. This time, she booted the door like a normal door breaching. The door cracked as last time, and again in a swift motion, she stepped through the door. Though this time, it wasn't followed by silence. The sound of a pistol came to life, and echoed throught the building, as a chinese man shot his sidearm six times at the...ceiling? Viktoryah had stepped in, and kept moving, using the barrel of her weapon to redirect the man's arm as he tried to kill her. Her bayonet sunk in the soft flesh of his armpit, punctuing the blood vessle there. She then pulled her rifle down, causing the blade embedded in the man to pull him to the ground, slamming him there with a thud. She side-stepped, walking over him with a rather dutiful stomp as she moved over his chest, causing him to groan in pain and roll on his side to nurse his wound. Her rifle sights came back to her eye as she sweeped across the room. Another chinese popped out from behind a desk, wielding an SMG of some sort, offering the deadly spray of his weapon in her direction. She ducked low, into almost a prone, her shoulders and knees on the ground, hoping to get low enough to be out of his firing range. The chinese man had to stand up to reposition his weapon to her. A false mistake. As soon as she saw his head raise from behind the desk, she lined her sights up with his torso, pulling the trigger on her own weapon, causing the weapon to sing death on the wings of hell's drums.

But before she could rise, a third chinese man rushed out from seemingly nowhere with a battlecry that probably woke his ansestors...or some bull like that. He wielded a long tanto blade. He came forward trying to stomp on Viktoryah. But she was swift. She pulled her rifle close, and began to roll like a barrel, away from the man. She was able to roll untill she was granted enough space to spin on her belly, using her systema training into a crouch, holding her rifle out in front of her like a bayonet. The man reached to his hip, presumably for his pistol, but the Russian wasn't going to find out. She pulled the trigger of her rifle, catching the man three times in his torso, before stepping in, and shoving him to the ground with the broad side of her rifle. He would bleed out.

But as she stepped forward to make sure he was neutralized, yet another soldier came around a sharp corner, from another door in the room, a loud 'Yaaaah'! escaping his lips as his foot came forward in a circular kick, knocking the rifle out of Viktoryah's hands. It clattered to the ground. Surprised, Viktoryah stumbled to grasp her sidearm, but she was cut off by the rest of the chinese soldier coming around the corner as well. He too, had a long blade in his hand, as he came around, taking the stance of whatever chinese martial art he had been taught. He placed a quick instep kick to catch Viktoryah off guard, before pushing her back. She stumbled a few steps, her thigh throbbing from the kick that had been delivered. The man smirked, as if victorious, and began to reach for his sidearm. Viktoryah regained her wits, and gathered her guts, as she regained her footing, and charged the man, whom just barely got a grip on his sidearm before he was tackled by the young girl. Her weight combined with her charge was enough to knock him off his feet, and she was able to get him in a sambo position. Her knees dug into his sides, and she sat on his chest. She then began to wallop his face with hammerblows. The man put up his guard to defend himself after the first few strikes...somthing she wanted him to do. As he brought his arm up to block her strike, she gripped his arm, twisting it at the wrist, untill it was palm up. She shifted all of her weight to the knee that she would sit upon the open wrist. The other hand, would jolt to the man's throat in a choke, knowing if he didn't want to black out, her would have to try and remove her hand.

However, the man reached up for her elbow instead of her wrist, pinching the inside of her elbow, and forcfully pulling her off of him...which was fairly easy to due to her light overall weight. He rolled with her, before positioning himself on top of her as she had him before. He pressed both arms to her throat, a mad grin taking over his face as he proceeded to choke the child soldier. She gritted her teeth roughly, as she could feel her face turning red. The smaller female was obviously easier to physically overpower. But she wouldn't give in. She jerked her right knee in sharply to her body, as if she were to curl up into a ball, her joint smashed exactly where she wanted it: in the man's kidney. He yelped in pain, and his grip losened due to muscle spasms. She didn't hesitate to grab the bends of his elbows, and press against his choke, freeing her airway. She turned sideways, making more space for her to slide out of the man's full mount. His rear end now rested on her hips instead of her chest. She leant forward, pushing the man backwards. He had regained his wits now, and wrapped his arms around the girl, in almost a hug as he pulled her on top of her. She felt herself being crushed by the man. She reeled her neck as far back as she could, smashing her forehead into the man's nose, creating a small headbutt, and a loud crack, along with her glasses flinging from her head.. The man yipped in pain, and released the girl, as she rolled away from him. She was able to roll once before she heard the man yell. She looked up at him, blood draining rapidly from his probably broken nose, his eyes watery and tears rolling down his cheeks. It took every ounce of her feminine instinct to try and help a person in pain to not stop the fight.

But the chinese had more planned for her. Bending to pick up his knife, he charged her again, swinging the blade in combination with chinese martial art styled attacks with his fists and feet. Viktoryah curled her body and deflected most of the blows. But victory came for her when he came at her with a wide, spinning kick. She took a large step backwards, out of the kick's way, but within arm's reach. Once the kick arched towards her, she quickly almost smacked the kick in the direction it was already going, adding to the man's momentum, and unbalancing his attack. Once his side was exposed, she placed a boot to the back of the man's kneecap, dropping his weight out from under him, making him slam to the ground. Her head at her feet, she dropped to one knee, placing her shin across his throat. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto the ground. The slam had knocked the wind out of him, and with her weight choking him, it was only a few seconds before the man lost vision, and passed out. Once she was sure that was the case, she slowly stood, panting quite vigorously.

She almost bolted back to her rifle picking it up, and putting the sling around her this time, before sliding to a crouch. Still breathing hard, she felt her voice waver as she called to her comrades.
"C-clear...."

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As Adrian stepped into the building, his eyes immediately fell to the fallen Chinese. It's guts were spilled upon the ground, and he was immediately reminded of an organ grinder his cousins had used to feed their hawks and falcons. 'Strange,' he thought solemnly, 'I have not thought of them since the accident.' He was thinking of an accident that had cost one of his cousins' leg, and the other, his arm. The accident had crippled them, yes, but they were determined to keep moving, keep fighting, until the end. 'Fools,' he smiled softly, 'but brave fools.'

Staring about him one last time, he walked over to a wall, and placed his RT-20 against it slowly. From his vest pocket, he pulled out two of his custom made throwing stars, both with strings attached to them. Tying the stars securely to his wrists, make sure that they wouldn't cut himself on accident, he then took up his cannon, and glared at the silent gloom. "We need to make it up to at least the third floor, but the forth floor would be preferable, I would think." In so saying, he strode across the ground, pausing only to pat Viktoryah on the head, and continuing on.

One of the squad soon caught up to him, and was about to ask him a question, when Adrian's pistol came up, the barrel pointing at his nose. "Silence," he whispered, "Do you wish for them to hear you?" Holstering his weapon, he pulled out a small knife, and held it around the corner. Using it as a tiny mirror, he counted four heads, and made note of their positions. Replacing the knife, he stilled his mind, and felt his body fall back into routine. Pulling out his pistol once more, and turning the safety off, he handed his cannon to the soldier, and stepped around the corner.

Sighting along his pistol, he aimed at the first head, and pulled the trigger while slowly exhaling. His shot rang loud, and the bullet aimed true. He was rewarded with startled looks, and a body falling onto the floor. He then sighted his pistol once more, and shot three more times, but only killing two others. The last one had scrambled to his feet, and was charging for the stairs, shouting out for help in his alien language. Not enjoying the sound of the soldier, he pulled out one of his stars, and threw it at the man's head. The star slammed itself into the back of the man's skull, ultimately severing his spine from his brain, killing him instantly.

With the safety back on, he holstered his pistol once more, and turned back towards his ally. Taking up the cannon, he laid down onto the ground, sighted the barrel at the stairs, and waited for the few moments for the Chinese to make it down. As they came down, he noted that only eight were on the stairs, but didn't much care for that. They were clustered together, entirely unorganized, but, he noticed with keen interest that one of them had an RT-20 as well. "In-ter-est-ing," he grinned, "Perhaps they have extra ammunition as well." He hoped they did anyways. He motioned, with two fingers, to his ally to move off to the opposite side of his position.

When he motioned that he was ready, Adrian exhaled slowly, and pulled the trigger of his cannon. Another thunderous clap echoed from the chamber, and the Hispano bullet screamed through the air, punching a hole through nearly five of the eight soldiers. The other three were disorientated, but were soon picked off by his ally with ease. Standing up slowly, he cocked the chamber, watching as a smoking shell was expelled from it, and replaced it with another Hispano. He then poked his head around the corner, his eyes lying on Viktoryah. "Would you like a cannon, Viktoryah?" He asked, his eyes, dancing in the gloom, "Theres one available if you'd like it."

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#, as written by R3aper
Swagger had watched silently as the pup had fought for her life. 'She reminds me of me,' he'd thought. 'Damned feral when in danger.'

But he'd kept his gun on every enemy that threatened her. If the Chinese man that had pulled the corner maneuver had gotten any closer to killing her, he'd have a new hole to breathe from. Swagger was brutal, but not entirely selfish. He also watched as the big guy, Adrian, put a cannon round through five enemy soldiers. 'And I only got three kills so far. He almost doubled me with one shot...time to step it up.'

As soon as the dust settled, Swagger broke the line and hauled happy ass up the now slightly busted stairs. He slung his rifle and drew both his Berreta and Grim, then poked his head into the corridor. Bullets peppered the wall just in front of his face, and he ducked back behind cover. He holstered his gun and put his machete between his teeth, like a pirate, then screamed as if in pain. Swagger then hopped up, grabbed one of the bars between cieling tiles, and pulled himself up into them. There he moved a few aside and waited for them to come...

And of course they did. Four Chinese soldiers came from the door and bolted down into the stairs, surely to certain death, while three more popped around the door frame and stood guard. Swagger drew his other pistol, his M1911 40, and took careful aim...then dropped.

Swagger fell to the ground and fired as he landed, punching a clean round through one soldier's face while coming down with his blade arm and revealing the spine of another. The last soldier present butted him in the back of the head with his rifle, but Swagger rolled with it. He braced his boots against a wall and balanced on his shoulders, upside down, as that's where the roll took him, and opened up with his M1911. The soldier fell, but Swagger could hear others coming.

He drew his M4, replaced his other weapons, then swung around the corner. Five more came running, recklessly, not looking at what was in front of them carefully. The leader jumped back and into his friends as soon as he saw Swagger. 'Heh,' he thought, 'ghillie suits make us look like monsters to those not used to them.'

Swagger was happy to oblige the title. He used every bit of marksman training to blow away the enemy soldiers quickly and efficiently, before they could recover. He'd always been good at taking out wide targets this close quickly. It was almost a game. As Swagger gunned them down, he noticed something. No fire was coming from behind him, where he'd let those four enemy soldiers go, not anymore. Then came a warning cry from Mick. 'Aw, come on!' Swagger growled to himself. He turned in time to be bashed in the face with an AK-74U. He felt his teeth, the right upper canine, which had grown out a bit and now looked like a fang, cut into his lip. The enemy soldier raised his rifle, but Swagger spat blood into his face and tackled him.

Mick rounded the corner and smashed Swagger's Barret over the rearmost soldiers head, then drew his sidearm and unloaded it into the next in line. Swagger managed to grab his own KBAR combat knife and slipped it between the ribcage of his current foe. Mick grabbed the last soldier before he could fire, wrapped his massive arm around the man's neck, then wrenched it to the side with a sickening crack. Swagger removed his knife and sheathed it, back on his left chest, just beneath the burlap strips of his suit. With a cursory nod to Mick, they switched weapons back again, and both turned. Two more enemy soldiers knelt at the end of the corridor, rifles aimed and ready, waiting for a clear shot. They opened up, but Swagger and Mick had theirs up first. Mick's round, as always, was clean and perfect at medium range. It tore into one enemy's eye and blew the back of his head off. Swagger was less graceful. He plugged his target in the gut, and the round impacted so hard the man went flying out of the window behind him.

Swagger and Mick cleared the area the way they'd trained, this time with their own weapons only, and knelt at the end of the corridor, where the others would come out. Swagger looked back, over his shoulder to the stairs. "Clear!"

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Viktoryah smiled weakly as Adrian came by, offering her a pat on the head. She muttered a thank you in Russian, but was still breathing rather heavily. She felt over herself, making sure she had truly not been shot, and simply not felt it because of adreniline. Noting she was in one piece, she was brought back to reality by the sounds of gunshots filling the building. She jumped to the ready, and stopped her heavy breathing as she reached for her AK-74. She looked around, and saw that all but a pair of russian soldiers had left her behind. She shook her head, trying to regain her wit, as she moved towards the sound of what sounded like pistol caliber gunshots. Sure enough, by the time she had reached them, they had ceased, only to be replaced by the sound of that cannon. And screams. You couldn't forget the screams. Using such a weapon in close combat must've left a puddle of a man that it hit.

As she neared the corner, Adrian's head popped round, and spoke to her. "Would you like a cannon, Viktoryah? Theres one available if you'd like it." Vikky shook her head. Hearing one of those things was devistating. She couldn't think after hearing one of those percussion blasts, that she was sure rang to the heavens. Weilding one of those monstrosities was out of the question. Shoulder dislocation, and probably getting knocked flat on her ass was about the extent she could see coming out of her with one of those rifles. She shook her head again, a lot more solidly this time, as she walked past Adrian, waiting on him before continuing up the stairs.

Once she got to the top of the stairwell, Swagger had done more than clear the place. Soldiers that were down on the ground either had new facial orifaces, or were spasming on the ground, as their body tried to deal with trauma and bleeding. She stepped over them, making her way towards Swagger, panting heavily as she did so. She stopped once she was beside the man, dropping to one knee. Mick, and another Russian was with her, assumidly Adrian close behind. She looked to him with eyes that could only be waiting for instructions.

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Stooping down over a fallen Chinese soldier, Adrian gripped his throwing star from the base of its skull, and pulled it sharply out. He sniffed the blood and brain matter tentatively, then licked it. He spat it out almost immediately, and growled. "Damn," he cursed softly, "This will never do." He then sauntered over to the mess his cannon had left, and gingerly picked up the other RT-20. "This will come in handy, I do think." Smiling softly, he scanned the floor, looking for any signs of an ammo dump. Finding none, he frowned, and made his way up the stairs.

He shook his head slowly at the mess Swagger had made, and sighed. "Swagger, you need to aim better." He rached down and ruffled Viktoryah's hair slowly, then patted it. His mind began to wander, then, and a song soon sprouted from his thoughts. Soon as his mind got to the chorus, his mouth opened, and a deep baritone erupted from his throat. "Woman, just a black rose. This has been your role, that brought you to fall. Let me say weren't wise, it's impossible you know? For your lord to rise!" He closed his eyes slowly, letting the remnants of the song wash through his mind. When it was over, he sighed happily, and actually smiled a real, pleasent smile, since the start of their mission.

Adrian's eyes slowly opened, and he strode purposefully towards a nearby room. Once there, he walked towards an open window, and peered out. Chinese soldiers and vehicles crowded the streets below. The sounds of gunfire could be heard, and he began to wish for an atom bomb, knowing that he would never get it. Sighing softly, he exited the room, and sat down next to Viktoryah. His cannon was placed across his lap, and a spotted hankerchief was used to clean his cannon. "Swagger," he whispered softly, "Take Mick and the Russian here," he nodded at the man with an AK-47 in his hands, and a cigarette being smoked between his teeth, "and secure the top floor and roof." He then stood up slowly, and looked down at the girl, "I'll keep Viktoryah, and start causing havoc with the troops below."

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#, as written by R3aper
Swagger's eye twitched at Adrian's order. He and Mick shared a look. They'd had the conversation before, right in front of an officer no less.

'What is he, serious?' Mick had asked.

'I think he is,' Swagger had responded.

'Really, now, the Marines don't train idiots.'

'Apparently they train robots.'

'Does it matter?'

'Hell no. We're still doing our own thing until my CO says otherwise.'

This all went through their minds in seconds. They were used to having operational independence, a new idea that leaving the sniper to snipe would help the overall effort. Calling in every shot and reporting secure, hidden positions took too much effort to do quietly, so Swagger's last CO had told them to 'go out and kill things, preferably the enemy' more than once. The two Marines shared a shrug, then parted ways.

Mick called two of the surviving Russians to help him clear the higher levels as Swagger flipped out the bipod on his sniper and slapped it down onto the window looking into the main street. He didn't have a good enough view. Swagger backed up and rotated around the tip of his barrel until he could see something. "Officer," he reported. "Looks like a Colonel, maybe a Major. I don't know the ranks, but someone that shouts orders. Taking the shot."

Thunder echoed down the street as Swagger's gun spat a solid slug at the enemy officer. On impact, it tore him in half, sending his upper half into a tank behind him, his lower half sprawling into the street, and his guts spewing all over his guards. "Enemy down," Swagger reported. "Firing ceased. Will not fire again unless threatened. They don't know where we are."

Mick came down a few moments later. "Gunny Swagger, sir," he came up, saluting. Swagger returned it, though he didn't lower his rifle. "Sir," Mick continued. "Seven Chinese soldiers found and eliminated. Sniper's nest detected across street and eliminated. Tanks are moving up the way, Swagger. They'll be up our asses in a few seconds if we're not careful."

Swagger thought for a moment, then let thunder roll again and took out a man hefting an RPG launcher along with the other man carrying his ammo. It also caused one of the others near them to cower and have a nervous breakdown until a stray round ended him. "Alright then," Swagger growled. "Grab one of those RT-20s and get into a good firing point. I'm sure our friendly Army boy will relinquish some ammo, since he wants to stay here with the Pup. Take out only as many as it will take to plug up this area. Block the tanks with tanks."

Mick nodded and approached Adrian as Swagger tagged another RPG carrier. "Sergeant," he said formally (Assuming rank, here. I didn't see it before). "Requesting spair RT-20 and ammunition, sir."

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Viktoryah looked around. All had been quiet since she had finished fighting. Her heartrate had dropped as she tried to get past the thought of 'I survived'. She heard only echoes of the conversation around her, and she seemed out of focus. Finally, she was able to gather herself enough to realize what was going on. Adrian was going to stay with her, and pick off armor. Swagger and Mick were going to go up and clear the next floor. She honestly thought her and Mick...or even Swagger were going to do the job, assuming they had the qualifying weaponry. But she digressed, as she walked over to Adrian, and nodded, taking a seat beside him, looking around cautiously. Swagger and Mick went on upstairs and the following gunshots rang out, signifying their job being done. Very well apperently. They came back down shortly.

Viktoryah watched as Swagger went to work, picking off soldiers with his .50 BMG. The rifle tore men in half basically, leaving the fear of getting hit with such weaponry to still in her heart. But she knew that her fate, if that one, would be quick. She shook off the fear. She was going to be a Spetsnaz: A fearless and brutal killer of men. Her body would become a weapon. Everything else, would become a tool for her body to use. She remembered the first day that the drill instructor spoke to them.

I am trained to do my job; that is to kill. I am trained to do it in variety, and almost endless ways. It could be mixing a cocktail for a man to drink. It could be throwing a shovel. But I will do my job: To kill that man.


She shook her head at the thought of such a man. He was truly fierce.... and she truly feared him. She feared a majority of her comrades. She simply stalled that fear. She gripped her rifle tighter, and looked around, not really worried. This building was under their control. They had it "Locked Down". With Adrian and Swagger in the windows, Mick, and the other two Russians, Solditov and Mikihail, would keep them covered. Their Russian marksman had been the one to get shot... She moved to the door at the end of the hall and closed it, locking the door. She then reached behind her, feeling around her gear. Finding what she was looking for, she pulled out a small, almost plastic looking disk. A PMN mine. She tossed it to the side, remembering one of the tricks she was taught in the few short weeks of her training.

She reached to her AK-74, and yanked the bayonet from the front of her rifle. A KA-bar knife, she then examined the floor. The thin tiles underneith her feet would suffice very well. She jabbed the point of her knife between the tiles of the first two in front of the door. She slowly slid her knife around the tile, before sliding her knife in at an angle and repeating. She did this untill she had removed the tile from the base it sat on. She moved the tile, setting it beside her. Her mind was focused now on her task. The material that was under it was still durable. She figured, China, the master of cheap, would cut corners on everything. But it was cement, as she should've figured. She reached to her hip, and pulled her Grach from her belt, and took a few steps back. Aiming the pistol carefully, she fired a few times. The armor piercing round dipped hard into the cement, but didn't fully penetrate. She fired a few times, actually, untill she had a siezable ditch in the cement. She cleared out the little hole she made, and smiled as she looked at it. It was barely large enough. She reached aside, and picked up her PMN, and placed it into the hole in the cement she had made. Once she made sure it fit...somewhat... she twisted it's head, arming the explosive. Knowing it took 11 pounds of pressure to set the mine off, she carefully placed the thin tile back on top of the mine, holding her breath as she placed it back on top of where the mine was. To the close eye, noone could miss the mine. But to someone whom was breaching and entering a building that they knew had dangerous adversaries...a breaching team would have only a minute glimse of the floor dead in front of the room they were breaching, and would hopefully make her trap work.... She quickly took generous steps back from the explosive.

She moved back towards Adrian and Swagger. "I have placed a mine next to the door; do not use the east entrance way...." She said, moving past them, a worried look on her face. She knew they were supposed to move from building to building... but she had a bad feeling about this.

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#, as written by R3aper
Swagger watched Pup work. He was impressed that she knew that particular trick...though he was irritated that she'd used a gun to dig the hole. That, after all, was what Entrenchment tools were for. The solid metal shovel/battleaxe could bash through concrete easily enough. He would have offered his own to her, but he figured why ruin the moment.

"Swagger," Mick called from his perch, holding the RT-20. "We might have a problem here."

Glancing back down his scope to make sure nothing was threatening them, Swagger pulled back from the window and trotted over to Mick. "What's the situation?"

"I just saw three RPG teams duck into that apartment complex three buildings down, but I haven't seen them since," Mick reported. "Took out one of the ammo guys before they got in, but the others were unharmed. So far, I've seen them move around us like we were just a rock in a river, but now it's almost like they aren't afraid of us. What do you think?"

Swagger thought for a moment, then shoved Mick out of the way just as a grenade popped into the window. He grabbed it, threw it back, then pumped out two rounds to make his point clear. After the thud of the grenade going off, Swagger pulled one from Mick's rising form, yanked the pin, let it cook for three seconds, then tossed it at about the same angle as the other one. "They're trying to rush us," Swagger said calmly. "Mick, drop the 20 and get into a good position to defend against a breaching team. Watch out for the mine Pup placed, too."

Mick looked, squinted, then shook his head and got up to do what he had just been asked. Swagger pulled up the RT-20 and took aim down the sight. Sure enough, he sighted in on a sniper with a Barret, trying to get a bead on him through the smoke of combat. "Sorry, pal," Swagger said, "But I've already earned my hog's tooth. Don't even need your gun."

And then he fired, sending the massive slug into the scope, shattering it, and turning the man into mush.