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You cant scare me. Im from mexico

0 · 156 views · located in Unknown Location

a character in “Temporal Conscripts”, as played by Raykon23


Shaved high and tight haircut
Blue eyes
6 even
200 pounds of muscle

not afraid to fight anyone.
Defiant at times he feels the order is wrong in morals or wrong in general
Proud of his Hispanic heritage.

Semi auto assault shotgun with incendiary rounds
his dead abuelitos prized revolver
a throwing axe

Historical background
born in mexico immigrated to texas at age three
became a marine at 21, once a sergeant in an infantry platoon
received the bronze star for bravery outstanding in a raid on a compound housing high ranking members of a terrorist cell
was given a discharge however for an incident involving his commanding officer who received a purple heart for a broken nose following.

So begins...

Ramirez's Story

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Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Ramirez remembered taking one shot of whiskey. Just one shot. Now he found himself strapped into a hospital bed being wheeled around by unfamiliar faces, "who.. who are you people?" he showed more restraint and defiance than fear, but he was definitely a bit afraid. Those around him said nothing as he was wheeled through door after door. Ramirez knew he'd made enemies, in the marines, in his old gang from his adolescent years, hell he had people who hated him for the pride he had in his own heritage. But none who those people were capable of what he was seeing. He saw doctors In lab coats, he saw guards with firearms he'd never seen in the marines. Suddenly he was wheeling into a room where a mysterious woman stood over him. Ramirez drifted away into a deep sleep as her hypnotic voice whispered into his ear.

He woke up periodically, fits of pain shooting through his body, then ending and sending him back into unconsciousness. He could only remember waking and struggling against his restraints. He caught glimpses of numerous figures in and out of consciousness but could not make out any of them.

Finally he woke up, feeling no pain other than a sharp headache. He cursed himself, wondered what was in that shot of whiskey. He was still restrained, but noticed his Revolver on the table. He looked around the dark room. He remembered areas like this in Iraq, places so dark night vision could barely make out certain crevices. He remembered when it was dark to listen to all the sounds around him so he could know where anything may be. So he listened, quietly, carefully, and heard nothing. The room was so quiet that only his breath made any audible sound of note. He fought every notion in his body not to do what he was going to do. He'd seen men do this in Iraq, watched their life expectancy drop to zero as a shot rang out with the sound of brains hitting the wall. He knew it could happen here, but he risked it, "hello?!" he yelled as loud as he could, "somebody! anybody! where am I?!"

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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#, as written by Lemunde
As Ramirez shouted he noticed something had changed from a moment ago. It was still dark, still quiet. But it was cold. Much colder than it was a moment ago. And the somewhat soft bed he was laying on was replaced by cold metal. His restraints were gone, as were his clothes. Feeling for his revolver he found it missing as well.

Something was very wrong here. More so than before. It was as if he were in a dream that kept changing. But it felt so real.

Ramirez stood up with ease. He felt as if he had suddenly lost 50 pounds, but feeling his arms and legs, they were as muscular as ever.

His shouting contained clues as to when the moment of change occurred. One moment it sounded as if he were in some kind of basement. The next, as if he were in a large metal room, his voice reverberating off the walls.

His voice was not the only sound in the room. A very low hum seemed to encompass the room, probably some kind of climate control. But there was something else. Something faint, just a few feet away from him. It sounded like...breathing. He was not alone.


Kyle's dreams grew surprisingly pleasant. He dreamed of one of the men he had just killed, lying there motionless. Then the man slowly turned his head and looked up at Kyle. One would normally be horrified by such a sight but the man's face contained no malice. And as the man began to smile, forgiveness in his eyes, the sun sat on the horizon, the hot wind turning into a cool breeze, then the cool breeze turning into cold air...

The dream was interrupted by shouting.

"Somebody! Anybody! Where am I!?"

The cold air remained, and he could feel cold metal against his bare skin. He was certainly not in the vehicle he was in before he drifted off. He was in some kind of dark metal room. Silently feeling around for his gear, it was nowhere to be found. Kyle assessed his situation...

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Kyle Blackstone, Ramirez Remembered that name. He tried to put a face to it, remembering a young marksman.

He thought back and it hit him, Corporal Kyle Blackstone was once apart of his unit, later ending up apart of the same Force Recon team that saved his ass once. Ramirez recalled offering him a shot of whiskey afterwards, and Kyle was the only Marine he'd ever seen turn down a shot from him. It was a move that had at first offended and enraged him, but later when the angry Mexican has sobered up, Gave him a newfound respect for the marine.

He knew there were many marines who shared name and rank, the dark didn't help Ramirez differentiate the fellow marine either. Ramirez was in a position though he didn't care, he was naked, in the dark, and had no weapon. He didn't care if he owed this marine his life, it wouldn't matter if he had ended up dying here.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paranoia set in. Was this a trick? This was too coincidental. Were they trying to mess with Ramirez? Stranger things have already began happening, what if this was some way to drive him crazy. Ramirez pull his minds together, trying to push out all the paranoid thoughts just long enough to speak. He opened his mouth again, "sergeant Hektor Ramirez, United states Marines. Blackstone is that you Chico?"

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Sergeant Hektor Ramirez, now was a name that reminded this jarhead that not so long ago he had been required to call himself the recruit. Five and half years ago Private Kyle Blackstone United States Marine Corp had reported for duty with mirror shined boots and a spotless uniform to match. His hopes and dreams soured by the stain on his record that was his older brother actions. Honestly he'd been surprised that they let him enlist. But this Apache wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth though perhaps he worked just a tad harder then most as if driven to have a spotless record by comparison. It had impressed his instructors or at the very least kept the worst of their mind fuck games away though the future MARSOC member always believed that his mind fuck was the most subtle. But it wasn't the memory of being in the same unit that would calm Ramirez down. No a couple of hundred men could most likely make the same claim and be just as swiftly rejected.

No what was needed here was something a little more powerful,something that'd prove beyond a shadow of doubt that Corporal Kyle Blackstone was who he said he was. A token of proof crafted of something more then the empty air of words. Problem was that the sniper was naked sitting in a air conditioned box with nothing but the empty air of words.

Racking his photographic memory he went over every memory of Ramirez that was stored within it. Thankfully a scout sniper had to have a good memory, lots of details and fancy math to remember after all. Then it suddenly dawned on him with all the force of a round fired from the M82A3. The memory of a time with his old Force Recon unit, and more importantly it's aftermath. One Ramirez likely never forgot, rage tends to solidify memories within one's head.

" I'll prove it's me Sir. ..Remember when I saved your ass from that troop of girl guides...should of just bought the damn cookies. Anyway after I pulled you lazy behind out of the fire some REM decides that I'm due a Navy Cross and gives it to me. There was a ceremony with cake and everything. By Saint Michael that was an ordeal and half." Kyle replied supplying the required answer as he slowly inched his way across the cold metal walls. His hands with fingers splayed were attempting to find a light source but so far had failed miserably. He could also hear a gentle hum above their heads and Kyle was sure if they stood atop each other the path to it would be found.

Right now though he was playing Marco Polo in the dark trying find a damn light switch. There had to be one after all this place had what could only side doors leading only God knows were. Though anywhere that had underwear and at least pants and shoes sounded like heaven right about now. The whole birthday suit was getting old especially with his former Sergeant not ten feet away in the same condition.

"There has to be a way out of this damn ice box after all they stuffed us in here like a side of beef." Kyle muttered in a rather annoyed tone as the futility of ever finding a light switch sunk in." My rifle for either some light or my night vision goggles!"The tall though slender native shouted as he pounded the wall he was leaning against with the palm of his left hand.

" And the good Lord said let there be light." The Marine added with an emphasis on the word light and a sigh on the rest.

The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to Unknown Location

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Lance corporal Kurt Palmer Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Ramirez thought back, then all of a sudden it hit him with the force of a shotgun. He closed his eyes and began a flashback, went back to Iraq. It was dark and warm outside, Ramirez curled in his hole trying to catch some sleep. Damn taji's why can't they just stick to a game plan? Some nights they stay active, harassing troops all night. Other nights, it was so quiet you could hear distant explosions miles down the road. The only problem is no one could tell when they would and wouldn't come out. They hadn't come out so far and Ramirez thought he could catch a few minutes of shuteye. Then the first explosion hit, Ramirez instinctively jumped out and glanced outside his hole. He looked over as another marine's foxhole was erupting in flames. Ramirez remember the black skinned body, barely recognizable as a human being. He remember him crawling out in agony, a corpsman rushing to his side, morphine in hand. Suddenly a hand touched Ramirez's shoulder, he turned to face his best friend Kurt Palmer, "sir we're pinned down, Taji's are on both sides and more waiting down the road." Ramirez blinked once, took a sip of whiskey, then handed the flask to Kurt, "take a drink, and calm the fuck down!" Ramirez peaked over the foxhole, staring at the figures in the distance. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Kurt, "Get to your team, close off the west parameter, also find Porter and tell him to get his lazy ass to the east parameter to help out the marines there and I want it done yesterday Chico."

The rest of the night it was fighting, early into the morning it was fighting. Ramirez had distinguished his marines, taking two casualties the whole night: Harris, a marine from Porter's fire team, and the poor sap who'd taken the mortar, who later turned out to be Ken Brose, an older marine who'd recently been transferred into Ramirez's platoon. But the fighting wasn't done yet, all his marines ended up pulling back into a defensive, they were all cut off from the rest of the battalion, and it looked like there would be more casualties.

Ramirez looked at Kurt, who shared a look. But instead of despair, it was a looked of hope. Ramirez took that to heart, "all right marines, I want every man that isn't dead on two legs up and unloading on those fucks!" Kurt handed him a radio, "it's the colonel sir!" Ramirez grabbed the radio, "Sir we are in the shit and we need a door to walk out of quick!" The colonels voice was calm and smooth, "we are aware of your situation son, we've managed to deploy a force recon unit in your area and they en route now. semper fi and be ready, we're going to pull you out of there soon."

The rest of the battle was hazy, all Ramirez remember was looking up at the force recon unit, all they'd sent was a fire team. A fire team, Ramirez was going to have to educate that colonel about the difference between a full unit and a lone fire team. But that fire team had done its job, they opened a hole in the Taji's offense and made their way to Ramirez's position. Ramirez remembered looking up and recognizing the face of the fire team leader. It was Blackstone, he'd actually done it. Ramirez remembered watching Blackstone leave his unit to go try for Force Recon, he remembered everyone doubting, laughing, and ridiculing him as he left. Now he was here, saving all their sorry asses Ramirez laughed to himself. His last thought was, this kid deserves a medal, and a drink.

Ramirez found himself back in the dark room, he shouted out to Blackstone, "It's good to hear your voice marine, don't lose your cool in here, I'm gonna need you if we're gonna get outta here. Oorah." He muttered to himself "oohrah" before beginning to think of an escape route.

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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"Alright recruits we got a new mission today.A real choice assignment, we get to go flower picking. I've packed us sandwiches and iced tea,even got us some sweet cherry pie." Lt.Danek spoke with that ever present smile that was his defining feature. Called Jester by his fellow jarheads this section leader of Rouge Company was highly respected for both his actions and his humorous outlook on life.

The ever present sand and heat swirled around them as 1st section laughed with the response only Force Recon could.After all they had nothing to prove to anyone and could indulge in referring to each other as recruits. For every shaven head in the command tent of Rouge Company had survived their share of combat tours and had proven themselves in the forge of war. As proved by their presence here.

" Alright my damsels in distress the real reason we've gathered here today is that there is a distinct lack of knights in shining looks like we got to rescue our own fine behinds. The Guildmaster has gotten word from the street that there is a meeting of high level command personal to take place at a little known safehouse about two kilometers from the city limits of Falllugiah. Guildmaster wants us to recon this meeting out. Our mission is two fold, primarily we want to find out what,where,when,who,and why. Secondly we are to capture any and all personal and relevant intel so that Command can get a better picture of just what the fuck these jihad ticks are planning. We move out in an hour so grab your make up kits and tampons."

Arriving at the safehouse 1st section had met only token resistance and had rounded up every last person wearing a uniform or carrying a weapon. All and all it had been too easy in Kyle's mind,hell he hadn't even pulled the trigger on the rifle he was carrying. Then again Force Recon was a recon unit and blood wasn't the only way to get things done. A motto this believer in God wholeheartedly agreed with.

" Yes sir, I understand sir. Yeah I can spare a couple of guys we are all done here a skeleton guard will be enough to see our prisoners back to Questioner. Yes sir yesterday it is." Lt.Danek spoke taking to a superior over the radio."Blackstone front and centre Marine."

"Sir. "Kyle replied as he ran over to his CO as his name was called, his rifle slung on his back in it's soft carrying case.

" A Colonel just informed me we got a Marine unit taking heavy fire from a numerical superior force. We are talking mortar fire and heavy weapons. I want you to take Sanders, Ruiz, Davidson, and Richards and see what you can do about punching a hole to get them out of that clusterfuck you got me Corporal."

"Yes Sir. " Kyle replied with a salute before wheeling about to collect the aforementioned fellow Force Recon members. Twenty minutes later a chopper had landed and Kyle's fire team took off.If the thought that there was only five of them bothered them it didn't show. Force Recon was used to being outnumbered. And these five weren't chosen at random. This fire team had shown competence in the being outnumbered business above and beyond even the high standards of Force Recon.

The chopper touched down some thirty three minutes later just outside what was quite the raging battle."Well lets go kick some camel jockey ass boys. Sanders right, Ruiz left, Davidson and Richards take centre, I'll cover you.Move out and keep low."

That was all the direction these highly trained and experienced Marines need as they slowly made their way over. Carefully taking advantage of their position to the rear of the enemy they landed several unopposed kills before the Iraqi soldiers even knew they were there. Each pull of their triggers resulting in an Iraqi death it was not long till they had made a sizeable dent in the population of their enemies. Instead of the steady rush Kyle and his fire team charged across the no man's land separating Marine from Iraqi Military turning back so often to return fire and leave an other corpse behind them. His rifle dry Kyle switched to the H&K mp5 he preferred over a pistol.

In the end though devoid of his rifle or not Kyle was pleasantly surprised to realize it was his old Sergeant he was pulling out of the fire.He then remembered the jokes when a position in Force Recon was offered him, though he was like any true believer willing to turn the cheek.

The past they shared had obviously help Ramirez believe in who Kyle was and that was a good thing. Now if I could only find some damn pants and a light switch I'd be in business the Apache thought to himself with a small and tired sigh. The flow of air hadn't ceased in the least and that humming above his head was beginning to annoy him as the dark made it impossible to see exactly what it was. He just hoped it wasn't a hornets nest as he hated anything with a stinger.

" Oorah." Was the only reply he gave to Ramirez's words before he drummed lightly on the wall he was leaning against.

There had to be a way to open these damn side doors Kyle thought as he straightened from his leaning position and turned around to once more run hands that knew the exact trigger weight of a rifle along the walls . The jarhead felt a slightly recessed panel next to the side door he had been leaning against. Somewhat hesitant to push into it as he had no idea what would happen the MARSOC member reminded himself there was no reward without risk.

A moment later light of a dim variety bathed his immediate area and the Marine Corporal felt like dancing. The light revealed a grey and slightly chilled portion of a largely metal hallway before fading away.

" Oh no you don't, The Good Lord said let there be light." Kyle muttered to himself before pressing the panel again and having the same result. " Oh honestly what third world sweatshop did this messed up switch come from."

The setting changes from Unknown Location to The Mayall Galaxy

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Ramirez laughed at his luck, he used the dim bit of light that Blackstone had managed to bring in the room to glance at their surroundings. He hoped to find some alternate route out of the hallway, was sick of feeling like a rat in a cage. Ramirez spied what looked like a vent located in the back corner of the room, high up on the wall, and angled to promote air flow into the hallway. Ramirez sighed in relief, clenching his fists and almost passing out from the joy he had to bottle up inside. Ramirez tapped the marine beside him's shoulder, "¡gracias a dios, I think I spotted a way out!"

Ramirez thought to himself, if this kid actually had the stones to handle a drink he deserved one. Ramirez corrected his arrogant thought, no.. this kid DOES have some stones, everything this Corporal has done since Fallujah takes some cojones to pull off. He thought about Kurt for a moment, he remembered how jealous he was of the Corporal after his boys pulled them out of that deathtrap. "Why did he get that opportunity? I could have done a hell of a lot better than that motarded shit bag." Ramirez laughed at the memory, a good marine, but he didn't have half the brains to hack it where Blackstone seems to have excelled.

Ramirez snapped back to the real world, this wasn't anytime for a walk down memory lane. His DI had beaten the marine corps way of life into the headstrong Ramirez a lot harder than the rest of the recruits. It was a forced hand that made him a better marine in the field, he became a cold, calculated killer when he needed to be. He became a confident leader, and he also discovered a talent for noticing the small things in the field, a talent which saved lives and ended them all together.

Ramirez began to feel his way along the wall, trying to judge where he was as opposed to where he'd spotted the air duct. It had to lead to somewhere that was outside this hallway, it had to be a way for Ramirez. The short walk down the long hallway felt as the every step was another eternity Ramirez had been caught up in this place, he was going nuts. He'd survived Parris Island, two tours of Iraq, a Tour of Afghanistan, a four year marriage and a lengthy divorce only to lose his mind in a dark hallway as naked as the day he was born. The absences of cool air from the vent began to frustrate Ramirez, he knew he'd seen an air duct, or had he? Maybe it had been a mirage, maybe Blackstone was a figment of his own imagination. Maybe Ramirez himself wasn't even here. What if he was strapped into a straight jacket in West Texas Mental. He'd watched plenty of Veterans shipped there, not being able to handle civvies' life in the real world. Ramirez began doubting his own sanity, then suddenly, His bare skin felt the cold air blowing through the metal grating. Ramirez stood under the grating, thought to himself, all I need is a couple of these tables, a lift from Kyle, and they'd be good to go.

"Hey Kyle! I found it, I need you to give me a hand, and we can get out of here chico!" He bowed his head, even still doubting his sanity, "Dios permitió que esto sea real"

The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to Unknown Location

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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The fleeting nature of the light was driving Kyle absolutely up the wall, he was used to it but on most night missions nvg or thermals were issued. This utter darkness was not exactly conductive to a rational thought process. Combined with the cold and somewhat reduced sense of weight this Marine was not entirely sure if this metallic prison was not a figment of his dreaming mind. Point one in that thesis was the gibberish written on the panel he kept hitting to restore the light. He was perhaps only middling linguist but the characters did not seem to be readily recognizable though the simple pictures seemed to indicate further capabilities could be gotten out of the switch.The second point in this thesis was that he was naked as a new born babe, a common theme in dreams. Though the presence of his former Sergeant threw a slight loop in his thought processes.

So engrossed was the sniper in the examination of both the switch and his thoughts he only acknowledged the tap on his shoulder with a nod and a muttered " Thank God indeed, his mercies know no bounds. " As Ramirez walked to the limits of what the light revealed.

As for Kyle he split his time between studying the simple pictures underneath the gibberish characters on the switch and creating fog pictures on a small window he happened to notice the second time he pushed the switch. The light was not bright enough to shine through and reveal the interior but the potential of something different then grey and bare walls was enough to spur him on. The jarhead looked closer on the panel in the moments of light his latest push had earned him. The panel was clearly divided into two sections slightly more recessed then the centre section he'd been hitting.

Kyle's emerging revelation was disturbed by the Sergeant's request for help and the Corporal felt a brief moment of annoyance with Ramirez that was quickly ignored. Such thoughts ill befitted not only a Christian but also a MARSOC member.

" Just a sec Sir I think I found a way to open this damn door I've been sitting in front of. "He answered,technically it could be constrained as disobedience but Kyle had heard the story of Ramirez's discharge. Though some habits died hard and having served in his unit this Apache had a hard time envisioning the Sergeant as anything but.

Turning back to panel the mission comes first attitude of MARSOC gave the Marine the necessary motivation to take the risk inherent in pushing unknown buttons. Tapping the panel's left half the sniper was rewarded with a silent hiss as the door slid open to reveal a darkened area roughly twenty square feet though the lack of light beyond what the panel shed made it hard to be sure.

" If your lucky one day the face of the enemy may appear in your scope. " He said with a crooked smile, a inside joke amongst scout snipers.

Rising to a standing position Kyle flashed Ramirez a thumbs up before creeping into the room's depths. His outstretched hands meet resistance about halfway. Running his hands along its contours the sniper came to the conclusion it was a crate of some kind of metal. Feeling for a latch or something similar his hands found another panel. Unable to make it out he decided it was worth the risk,after all what did they have to lose?A silent hiss later he was digging through the contents. Questing hands first found a cylinder of some kind. Tapping it against the crate the greatest gift of God bathed the area in front of him.

" Blessed Archangels in Heaven." He cried out in joy as the light showed no sign of disappearing..Aiming it at the crate he found more flashlights of a peculiar build like the one he held. In addition another welcome sight greeted his eyes."Get your ass in here Sir. "This added as he struggled into what appeared to be the NOMEX flight suits worn by fliers. More were stuffed into the crate though Kyle was far more interested in zipping up the front of his. It was a bit bulky on his leanly built frame though as if sized for larger individuals and curiously had multiple pockets affixed to the back.A rather odd place for extra storage but the Marine wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

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Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez
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Ramirez turned toward Kyle's voice, he walked in to see Kyle dressed in a suit that looked like those he'd seen on flyboys back in Iraq. Then he realized, he could SEE Kyle, bathed in a refreshing light that gave joy to the heart and pain to the sensitive eyes. Then he realized that the Corporal had in a incidental way, ordered him into the room. Ramirez knew that was not intentional, but still the old marine's stubborn pride couldn't let it lie, "Remember Chico, I may not be an ACTIVE marine any more, but I'll never stop being a marine oohrah? Don't tell me to get my ass in somewhere." Ramirez tried to sound stern and serious, but he knew the corporal had good intentions. Plus he found some fucking clothes, Ramirez struggled to fit his large figure into the skin tight suit. He laughed to himself, "Hey Kyle, now I know why those flyboys have to be so skinny." Ramirez never did like any other branch of the military, with the occasional exception of army infantry. He'd seen too much to understand why anybody could be proud of sitting in a plane, flying over their own boys dying, occasionally being the ones killing them. It was the same stubborn pride that forced him to chastise the marine who just clothed him and found a flashlight. Ramirez couldn't help it, it was bred into him. Ramirez took another flashlight, slapped on it, then watched it flicker on. Suddenly Ramirez hear commotion out in the hallway, saw beams from flashlights, most likely mounted on rifles. Ramirez went into survival mode, slowly crouched down behind the crate, flashlight ready to bash a skull in, "Get down marine, sounds like we got a bit of company, and they damn sure don't look like they'll be happy if they find us with their gear."