Agents Universe
Established: 2021-01-22
Chat room: #agents_universe
- No holds barred
- Long-term roleplay
- Male / Male
- Sex
- Extreme violence
Follow the adventures of the CCS (Covert Combat Squad), MI6, and others in their battle against the rising power of the Syndicate
First Read:
Jungle Heat - Extraction Part 1
Prisoners of War - Extraction Part 2
Intimate Reunions - Extraction Part 3
Interrogation - Extraction Part 4
09:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: I look over at Roger as his arm is seared. “Fuck. Please. Please stop it. Stop doing that.”
I looked at Ivan. It was getting hard. It was so hard not to say anything. To say Peterson’s name. To scream it out loud. To protect Roger.
I just had to hold on. Just had to wait. Keep this out. Keep that info safe. I could barely remember the picture. I know who it was. He’s spoken to me.”
“I’m not lying. I can’t. I can’t remember. I can’t. Lieutenant Anderson had the information. But he died. I saw him shot. His brains went everywhere. I’m scared. I’d tell you if I knew. It was an American. A seal. Please don’t hurt him. I don’t know any more.”
“Sir. Please. I…” I looked over at Roger as Watts picked up the knife again and pressed it on his back. Pressing down hard, the American was loving it.
I looked at Roger’s face. “Let me go to him. Please. Sir. I’ll do anything. But I’ve told you all I know. Please. PLEASE!!!”
17:20 Watts: He kept slamming into Roger. Ripping him apart. Blood from his arse dropped onto the floor as the smell of seared flesh hit his nose.
“Cock next. Last. Chance kids.”
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: My guts are roiling with distaste. Not because I can't stomach torturing men. I'm a fucking Spetsnaz, I get off on this... no, not because of that. But... using these soldiers' bond against each other ... that's too close, too raw... too painful. Kyle. FUCK. KYLE.
The Marine is in tears, begging me to let him go to Roger. I keep my gaze hard, impassive. His story isn't wavering. He's good. Of course he's fucking good. He's a Marine.
I turn to look at Watts raping Roger savagely.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger is barely able to hold two thoughts together anymore. Everything is just a big, hot, white ball of agony. He keeps screaming.
Roger tries to catch Paul's eyes... then suddenly, a new pain erupts on his back. He gasps, his body stiffens, he screams again, then suddenly taken beyond his pain threshold, the tough Oregonian Ranger collapses, unconscious, his ass ripped apart, bleeding heavily, his flesh seared on his back and his arm, the savage wound in his shoulder ripped open again, starting to bleed.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I look over as Roger goes unconscious. I look over at the Marine, begging and in tears. I need a break, as much as our prisoners need a break, I need one too. I look over at Watts, I nod at him.
"Let's go Watts. No good torturing that fucking American piece of shit if he's unconcious. We'll let these two think things over for a bit, let them see if they remember something, then we'll come to back to finish the job."
I move the campstove, the knife and the table with the pictures out of the cell, letting Roger's twitching form collapse in a quivering, bleeding heap on the cell floor. Then, my own thoughts in a turmoil, unable to stop thinking of Kyle, I unshackle Paul, letting him fall to the floor. He can't do any harm unshackled. I keep Roger cuffed. Then, I drop my canteen of water in the middle of the floor, turn and leave.
I explain to Watts, "We don't want those fuckers to fall into a coma from dehydration."
Then, I lock the door and leave. My face impassive, not showing how much I fucking hate this.
11:10 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul falls next to Roger taking the water and immediately poured it over the burns without thinking of himself to cook them down. He kept some but figured Roger was in need of it more.
He was so tired. So in pain. But he knew Roger was in more pain. He carefully poured some on the wound. “Roger,?” He asked as he placed him gently in his lap.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger slowly transitions from a nightmarish dreamscape filled with horror to savage pain. His right arm... hurts so much, burned, that deep gaping wound dug out with a knife, his broken arm... and now his bleeding ass and burned back. He fills sick. But he's so thirsty... his mouth is dry... His eyes blearily open. He realizes that his head is in Paul's lap.
He looks up, and smiles weakly at the handsome young Brit. He's shivering constantly, his body going into shock. "Paul... " was all he could manage to croak out. He felt safe somehow. They would get this together. He knew they would.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: Since arriving here yesterday late afternoon, I've been racking my brain to try and figure out a way to free those two rookies without them realizing that it was me. I was torn. There was a lot at stake here. They knew who I was. If Ivan managed to make one of them talk, then I would never get a chance to tell the brass what horrors the Syndicate was cooking up in that lab.
It wasn't altruism, wanting to get those two free, though I'd gladly fucking sacrifice myself if it came to it. There were bigger things at stake here than the lives of two young soldiers. I had to be ruthlessly pragmatic. I wondered... could I slip them something to let them commit suicide? I hated to do it, but I couldn't get sentimental. Not with so much at stake.
I was on constant alert, and the screams echoing from the cell could be heard throughout the facility. They grated on my nerves, and weren't making this any easier. I kept my cool though. I was a professional. Cracking jokes and playing poker with Darrell, hearing him brag about how he killed some big Irish bastard, one of the Royal Marines. I wondered... if they knew what the Syndicate was really up to in that lab, like I did, would these fuckers be so keen on guarding the base? They were mercenaries... they did what they were paid to do... but most of these guys had a sense of honor, they had boundaries... unlike some mercenary companies... I had come to know them pretty well over the last few months.
I was in the middle of an evening poker game when more screams tore through the facility. I joked, "Watts and Ivan man, they get to have all the fucking fun." Darrell grinned, "Watts has a reputation you know.." the big Alaskan said. I knew he did. Watts was a fucking psycho. Thrown out of the SEALS, a group that was home to some of the most ruthless bad-ass mother fuckers in the world. And Ivan ... Ivan's reputation preceded him. Though, rumor said that ever since the incident in Des Moines... he had changed.
What I wanted, desperately wanted was to go full bore fucking SAS on these bastards, free the two prisoners, kill Ivan and Watts, and get the fuck out. And if I died... in the process? I had a duty not to die. Not to take that risk. Too much depended on it. No matter how much it tore me up not to. But... it was getting to the point where I'd have to act.
I played my hand, my face never revealing the internal turmoil ripping through me. I'd have to play another kind of hand. Soon. I'd made up my mind. Those two... they were a Marine and a Ranger, tough bastards, or they wouldn't have got in. But they were young, rookies, I could tell that. Even so, they wouldn't break, not easily... but Watts and Ivan... they were fucking brutal and ruthless. And those screams.
I was going to go rescue those guys, break them out and make a run for it. At this point, I had to play the odds... And the odds for me getting out of here with what I knew were quickly coming down on the side of taking direct action. He who dares.... it was time to take a dare. I got up, stretching. "All right gents, I fold. You fuckers are gonna clean me out at this rate." I made my goodbyes, and left. Time to act.
11:10 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul slowly lifted Roger’s head and put the water to his lips. “Drink this. You need it more than me. They tortured you worse than me. It was hurting me to see you like that. They knew it. My pain was… less.”
It hurt. And worse yesterday with the acid. But he was a medic. He had to make things better.
“I can’t do it again. I can’t take it again.” I say quietly.
11:15 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I sit in the helicopter and attach Sam to my harness. David and Tommy were attached to each other as were Laurie and Jamie. They’d got weapons attached to both their sides and the people who didn’t have the parachutes had the weapons on their backs.
“Safe altitude for opening?” I said looking over at Jamie who thought for a second. “Depends how heavy you want to land. Just using reserve. 400 feet. It’s going to be close. But higher means someone may look up. 400 feet is around six seconds of air time. 350 feet is basically hitting the ground hard enough to break bones.”
“400 then.” I say looking at Sam and the others. “We land. Cut the connections. Sam and Laurie explosives on the roof. Make us a hole. Tommy, Jamie get ropes up. David and I will go in first. Rest follow us down.”
I check the Coordinates on my watch and look at Sam attached to me. “Okay. Ready….”
Two seconds later I said simply. “Jump.” And then fall out of the plane with Sam. Heading straight down at free fall from 10,000 feet. I look at my lover. Friend. Brother. Grabbing his arms to keep us together like a missile heading down.
09:36 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I strapped myself to Tommy, the lightest of the SAS commandos. And the one with the biggest mouth. I look over at Mark and Sam buckling up together. I had my suspicions about why Sam was really on this mission. But I kept them to myself. Wasn't my business.
I nod as Mark lays out the battle plan. Me and him first.
I nod at Tommy, "400 feet." I hang off from the opposite door with Tommy strapped to my front, locked in tandem, face to face. He was a good looking man. I waited until Mark jumped, then leapt out after him, wrapping Tommy up tight in my arms against me. I could feel how fit he was, as one would expect of an SAS Commando. Like a missile dropping into the night, we plummeted. At least jumping out of a chopper meant the only thing we had to take in account was the wind direction and speed, which was negligible.
There was nothing but the endless roaring wind and the night and the feel of Tommy held against me and the altimeter. When it hit 400, I opened the chute, our descent rapidly checked as we dropped in silently on top of the bunker. I braced my legs landing easily, well practiced, taking the force with my powerful quads like shock absorbers, then rolling detaching the chute, and with quick actions, releasing the harness. In less than 10 seconds I had my assault rifle out, scanning the perimeter, and moving in towards Mark and Sam.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Calmly, I lock eyes with Mark as the wind hurtles past us. I feel a thrill, not just the thrill of impending battle, but the thrill of intimacy, of closeness, of connection. With Mark. We hold each other tightly as we plummet quickly reaching terminal velocity.
The moment seems endless, the wind... the night... and Mark. Dropping with him... I knew that my question had been answered. I'll never be able to properly describe how it felt. Other than it was an experience I'll take with me to my grave.
Then, suddenly the chute opens, and we silently glide the rest of the way. I slip fully into the zone, senses becoming hyper aware, mind focused like a laser on our mission.
Mark handles the landing with perfect skill, releasing me. I roll off, and instantly join up with Laurie. Together, we rapidly survey the slab of concrete we've landed on, then select a spot near the middle. I slap on some C4, embedding a remote detonation cap in the putty, then back off motioning to the others with silent arcs of my arm the safe zone. I look to Mark for the signal.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: The assault rifles are under lock and key, but we all have a sidearm, a Glock, and of course a combat knife. But my most valuable weapon is my mind and my hands. This bunker is solid concrete, so there is no internal wiring. It's child's play for me to find the wire leading to the camera monitoring the two prisoners.
It was go time. Time to throw the dice, and take a dare. I snipped the wire, then moving silently, I darted over to the single guard silently stationed outside the entry to the cell blocks. He recognizes me, and gives me a grin, he's relaxed, ready to trade some banter with me. I smile at him, give him a grin, reach out as though to put my arm around his shoulder, "You know Dan, that 100 dollars you lifted off me in our last game, you had better fucking give me a chance to win it back.." He opens his mouth to reply, but he never does.
Striking like a viper, my hands seize the side of his head, and I snap viciously to the left with lethal force, breaking his neck. I drag his body into the cell block and off to the side, lifting his keys and his sidearm.
I surge forward to the prisoner's cell, and open the door. I charge in, I survey the scene with my flashlight. One unchained, one cuffed, and in bad shape. One can walk. I whisper to the Marine, "Follow me, take this... I've got your mate. It's time to go." I toss the Marine the Glock, then heave up the badly injured Ranger, and turn to go. We have less than a minute. They will know almost at once that the cameras have gone offline, and they will come to investigate.
10:07 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I land neatly on the top of the bunker and roll, cutting Sam loose from the harness and look at my watch and check everyone’s positions. I don’t need to redo any orders or instructions. That should all be perfectly clear by now. We have stuff to do.
I check my rifle and check everyone is in positions and make a signal once the ropes are ready to blow the roof.
6:15 Marine_Paul_Collins: I almost freeze again. Unsure what to say at this point. But the moment the gun is in my hand things come into sharp focus. “Careful of his arm.”
Outside I see the dead guy and remember escape and evasion training and I stop and pull off his boots and trousers in one brutal motion. I don’t stop to put them on but I grab them holding my gun in front of me.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I tap the remote, and suddenly the desert is rocked by a savage explosion. The shaped charge had directed the shockwave into the concrete roof, collapsing with a roar of masonry. In an instant, Tommy and Jamie have the ropes secured and anchored. I sit back, tense waiting.
10:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I surge forward with Mark at my side as soon as the ropes are in place. I rappel down the rope with smooth, rapid motions, my combat-trained muscle flowing with power and precision.
I drop and turn, surveying the room. It seems to be some kind conference room, a table crushed beneath the weight of concrete, scattered chairs. Shouts from beyond the door. I move smoothly towards the door, my assault rifle leading the way.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: I nod approvingly as Paul strips the boots and trousers from the dead guard. I whisper quickly to him, pointing at my backpack, "2 spare uniforms in here." I'm carefully holding the semi-conscious Ranger across my shoulders in a fireman's carry. His arm is brutally messed up, and he's badly burned. I'm not sure he could walk.
I lead the way quickly out of the cell block, then unhesitatingly open the door to a small storeroom. No one uses this. I grunt out, gently putting down the injured Ranger, "Ranger, can you walk?" Working quickly, I uncuff the injured Ranger.
I turn to Paul, "Ideal outcome: We keep our distance from the Brotherhood mercs, far enough that you and your mate look like guards. Then, I kill the men guarding the garage, and we appropriate one of the trucks and get the fuck out of here." What I don't say is that it is almost certainly not going to work. All of the troopers have been chipped. Ivan can track us, and I don't have the tools to easily remove the chip. But the chances of that are slightly better, in my opinion, than hanging around here, waiting for Ivan and Watts to break one of these young soldiers.
Suddenly, the whole base is rocked by a massive explosion. The lights flicker. WHAT THE FUCK???
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I just went to collect Watts when I got a call from the security room. I listen grim faced as the tech on duty tells me that they have lost the feed to the cameras monitoring our prisoners. Instantly, I jump to a conclusion. The mole has decided to act rather than wait. I was expecting it. I had a plan ready. "Put the base on high alert, I want every man on duty now. If anyone fails to report for duty, inform me instantly."
I load out with my own weapons, call Watts and Darrell to me, two of my best men, and head towards the cell block. I wondered ... for just a moment... I doubted my own judgement... I should have stayed. I should have finished the job. I was getting soft. FUCK.
Then, the entire base is rocked by a massive explosion, and I instantly wonder, how the fuck did the mole get his hands on explosives? FUCK.
11:32 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I follow David easily assessing the frame of the door. It was an internal door. Conference room. Wasn’t designed to be massively secure. I look at David and point that he goes right through the door and I’ll go left. I kick the door and in one fluid motion I turn left through it. Instantly checking there were no friendlies before spraying the corridor.
6:11 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul grabbed water from the shelf and drank it quickly and then pulled on the boots and trousers.
“I’ll help him,” said Paul. “I’m a medic. I’m trained in battlefield casualty training. I can help him. But I can’t do that and shoot well.” He was running on adrenaline now. His own pain was chest not leg based so he’d find a way. “We didn’t give you away.”
I look around as the building shakes. “Fuck. I think they’re really pissed off at us escaping.” Which made no sense but the last 48 hours have been hell
12:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: 10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Suddenly, as I round the corner, with Watts and Darrell in tow, the door to the conference room bursts open, and two heavily armored Commandos come bursting out, wearing solid black, spraying the area with assault rifle fire.
I slam myself against the wall, FUCK. I'm not wearing body armor. Just a simple grey top, Neither Watts nor Darrell were wearing combat gear either. All we had was our sidearms and knives. I had my other gear, my bullwhip and my stun baton as well as my bottle of acid.
I growl into the radio, "Evacuate the base, and get me two squads of men in full battle gear on the double to cover the north corridor, near the conference room. We are under attack."
I turn to Darrell and Watts, "Take the big one, I'll take the smaller one, after I blow out the light."
I had no fucking clue how they bypassed the seismic detection grid, but there was no time to worry about that now.
There was a large fluorescent light rocking back and forth, still swaying from the explosion in the middle of the corridor. I poked my head around the corner and fired at the light. I threw myself back, screwing my eyes shut.
It exploded in a harsh glare, before plunging the corridor into a deep gloom. Not as good as a flashbang, but good enough for an instant's disorientation.
I pull out my bullwhip, a weapon I have particular expertise with, and turn the corner, cracking it expertly with a surge of hard power, aiming for the ankles of the smaller of the two commandos, intending to yank him off his feet and rush him.
10:11 Darrell: The big Alaskan waited until Ivan blew out the fluorescent light, screwing his eyes shut to protect from the sudden glare, than as Watts laid down a series of rounds to keep the American off guard, he charged him head on, looking to get in close where he could neutralize the advantage of his greater firepower and armor.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: All of the Private's willpower and energy was focused on not crying out as he was carried off by Peterson... the man who they had come to rescue. Everything hurt so bad, he wanted to be sick. But he fought off the urge, keeping silent. Then, he was laid down in some kind of storeroom, an explosion rocked everything and he looked up, dazed and confused at Paul. He had been asked a question... could he walk... "Yeah.. can walk... need... get .. dressed"
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: I tossed two uniforms at the two prisoners, "Marine, get him dressed. He's got to walk. Leave the shooting to me. I'm good at it."
I tried to think, what could have caused that explosion? Ideally a rescue attempt... but realistically... how? Still, it was now or never. He who dares…
11:12 Marine_Paul_Collins: Paul helped Roger up slightly. “Let me help you get dressed. I can look at your wounds when you’re out here. We’ve still got to do Vegas. Right. Find a good strip show together. Swim in the pool parties.”
11:14 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: Mark switched on his night vision the moment the lights went out showering the room with glass. The glass I ignored. But by the time the lights came on I had a whip wrapped around my legs which dragged me to the floor. Slamming me brutally to the ground. I turned sharply over to get off my back kicking my legs out.
6:11 Watts: Watts followed Ivan’s instructions pulling two combat knives and jumping over the prone black clad figure right at the big guy to take his ranger weapon out of play. He recognised the Ranger insignia and fancied a good beating down of his army rival.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: The young Ranger manfully battles up to his feet, his wrecked arm streaming blood, every motion making him want to scream with pain. He focuses on Paul, just Paul, hearing his words, the future. With Paul's help he struggles into trousers, but the worst is getting the top on.
When his arm is lifted, the pain nearly makes him pass out. His face goes white as a sheet, but he recovers, turning to look at Paul. "Ready... let's ... let's go..."
He takes a few staggering steps forward.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: I watch as Paul helps Roger get dressed, then watch as Roger staggers forward. I grunt, "Stay at his side Paul, he's going into shock. We've got to keep him upright if we want any chance of getting out of here. Stay behind me, try to act normal. Like you belong. They don't know who I really am."
I look at Paul then. I put my hand on his shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "I know you didn't talk. If you had I'd be dead. Be proud Marine. You can do this."
Then, I open the door and head out. There are shouts in the distance, and gunfire.
10:11 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: I turn the corner, laser focused, Mark beside me, spraying the corridor with gunfire. Suddenly, a figure pops around the corner of a nearby corridor, and the fluorescent overhead light explodes. I grunt, quickly switching on my night vision. But I'm slammed by several rounds in the few seconds it takes to switch it on, my armor absorbing the blows, smashing me up against the wall. FUCK.
I don't hesitate though, turning to face the direction of the shots, I see Mark down, and some massive bald headed fucker is on him, then another man comes at me with two knives. My assault rifle is out of position, so I swing it like a club towards his head, and lash out with my heavy boot going for his knee.
There is a third man coming at me. Two on one. I don't fancy those odds. Then, from the conference room, another figure, it's Sam!! Charges out and tackles the man down.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Suddenly, I hear answering gunfire below, and turn to look at Laurie and Jamie. It looks like Tommy has already headed down. "Time to head down." But just then, there is the sound of scrambling, and from our rear, behind some bulky air ventilation equipment, bullets start slamming into our position. I hit the deck as Laurie, and Jamie find cover behind other ventilation equipment. It's obvious, we have to hold here. I'm not near cover though,
I scramble, skirting the hole in the roof on all fours to make it to cover, when a bullet smashes into my back, kicking me like a mule. The round is stopped by my armor, but it knocks me breathless, and even worse, the force pushes me over the edge. I fall down into the hole, slamming brutally into the concrete with a crash that is completely lost in the sounds of gunfire.
There is no time to be dazed though. I stagger up, and charge forward. It would be suicide to climb the ropes to get back up top. I exit the door to the conference, and immediately see two men ganging up on the big American, then holy shit... that's Ivan Usov going for Mark!!! FUCK ME!!! The man I fought back in London during the raid on Thames House. My first instinct is to aid Mark, but I'm a professional, and Tommy is already leaping at the big Russian.
My duty is to take out the man trying to flank the American. Too close to the American to risk firing my assault rifle, I run forward and tackled the big man.
He's good though, and sends me flying. I slam into the wall, fuck that hurt, and slump to the floor, but there is no time to be hurt. I roll quickly out of the way as the big man with cat-like reflexes leaps at me, my heavy battle armor not slowing me down in the slightest. I train for this.
He lands in a crouch as I twist in place, slashing my leg to sweep his feet out from under him as I grab the combat knife on my chest with my left hand.
10:11 Darrell: I'm circling around the big American Ranger, coming at him from his flank as Watts engages him up close, when another figure charges out slamming into me, tackling me down. I grunt, caught off guard, but my instincts are drilled deep into me, and I roll with the tackle, wedging my boots against his hips and tossing him over my head, twisting like a cat and pouncing on him.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I charge forward towards the smaller Commando as Watts and Darrell engage the big Ranger. A bullwhip is definitely not something I would normally bring to a fight, but you use any and all weapons you can. The Spetsnaz taught me that.
The smaller Commando is fast, and quickly turns over onto all fours to get off his back. My whip is still wrapped around his ankle, and as he kicks I yank hard, to pull him off balance, the whip coming unwound from his ankle as I do. I drop the handle of the now useless bullwhip, and leap onto his back, looking to use my weight to smash him flat, then I'll jam my Glock, still in my other hand, up against the back of his neck and blow his head off.
11:16 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Tommy slammed into Ivan as he pulled out his gun to shoot Mark jumping onto his back and grabbing his head using his entire weight of his body and gear to grab the head and slam it backwards.
Tommy had come from the parachute regiment before joining the SAS, passing first time, he was an inner city London thief originally before joining up to avoid jail time and was brutal as hell. He was by three years the youngest member of Mark’s troop, and the third youngest ever member of the SAS and he slammed into Ivan pulling him bodily off mark before slamming a gloves first right in the Russian’s throat.
11:14 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: Mark’s sight was coming back to him as he was now on night vision. I expected the guy to jump on me but Tommy was right there and instead the guy dropped his whip as I turned back around and I leaned over and grabbed it and brought it back in a wide arc to slam it onto the big man’s legs. Not to keep him down to punish him and stop him from being able to get away easily. Bleed you fucker.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Suddenly, I feel something heavy slam into my back, pulling me backwards by my head off of my target. I deliberately drop my Glock, letting it skitter away as I'm pulled back. My head slams into the floor, dazing me, the back of my head throbbing.
It's purely on instinct that I tuck my arm to protect my head and throat, absorbing a heavy blow on my forearm as a new Commando joins the fight.
I grunt as something lashes across my thighs I realize then that my original mark picked up my whip and used it against me. My thighs are burning, but I embrace the pain, fight through it, realizing that I'm in a dangerous situation.
Grunting, I lash out with one hand to grab the front of the smallest Commando's tactical belt, yanking forward with all my strength to try and throw him off balance. I'm in a fight for survival now. I lash out with my boot, kicking hard with all my strength towards the face of the man that whipped me.
11:16 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Tommy feels his belt being grabbed. He considered using its quick release but also heard the sound of the whip behind him. As he turned and caught Mark out of the corner of his eyes he slammed into the wall going with the momentum from Ivan. Ivan then pulled his legs back and slammed his feet into Mark. Seeing an opportunity Tommy pulled out his knife and brought it around in a wide arc to slash into Ivan.
11:14 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I bring up my arm to block the kick slamming me backwards, nearly slamming into Sam who was in his own life and death battle. I slam into the wall hard bringing more concrete down.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I feel my boot connect with the bigger Commando, as I pull the smaller man into the wall. I grunt, twisting up to get to my knees, turning and catching the arc of motion as the smaller Commando slices at me with his blade. FUCK. He's fast.
I suck my gut in, trying to avoid it, but I'm not wearing armor, and these bastards are. SAS, I judge by the color of their gear. The blade rips a bloody gash through my thin shirt, scoring a red line of fire across my abs. It's not life threatening, but it burns like hell.
I surge forward, forced to temporarily ignore the man I kicked. I have to take that knife out of play. I duck low as I surge forward, thighs burning from the whip lash, lashing out with my left hand in an attempt to seize the Commando's knife wielding wrist, and firing up with my right hand in heavy fist, trying to uppercut the smaller commando right under his chin, not holding back on the power, I need to knock him out quickly.
11:16 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Tommy’s thought processes happen quickly. This guy was strong. He probably wants to use his large strength against Tommy. His first reaction to Mark was to kick and against Tommy was to use strength so he'll probably do the same again. As the knife hand is grabbed. The man’s strength was obvious and so Tommy dropped the knife to the floor. But he also dropped with it , avoiding the expected punch. The man was predictable. Use the biggest punch possible. The biggest kick. So Tommy dropped to the floor right next to the knife and re grabbed it bringing it up in a direct motion into Ivan’s sack and thick bulging cock. Tommy very briefly thought that cock would be nice to play with. But he imagined it on Sam instead. He’d never told Sam how he felt. Normally turned on was the answer.
11:14 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: Got up from basically being inside the wall. He adjusted his night vision goggles and pressed his radio. “Laurie. Jamie. Find the Tangos. Don’t get sucked into the fight.”
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: The small man is fast, his reflexes are sharp, and he has excellent killer instincts. He drops the blade and throws himself to the floor to avoid my uppercut.
Then, I see the danger as he grabs the knife again, thrusting up towards my crotch, but I haven't survived as long as I have by being that slow. Quickly, I spin on one boot, taking my crotch out of danger, the young commando's blade slicing up into the air.
But it was close, too close for my liking. My own hands darted to my belt, and grabbed the stun baton, the one I had used on the young Marine in my left, and my blade in my right. I slash out with my own blade, held expertly, looking to tangle up the Commando's blade, as I jab the stun baton forward, looking to connect with his neck, maneuvering him up close near the wall to cut off his options for avoiding.
Where are those reinforcements? I could hear gunfire coming from up on the roof, at least one patrol was trying to pin down the rest of these commandos.
11:16 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Fucker moved. Cunt is good at the hand to hand stuff thought Tommy as the guy clashes blades with his. As he was backed against the wall the stun baton was going to fucking hurt if it connected so Tommy does something that most people would consider stupid with the hand not holding the knife he slammed it forward and punched the stun baton. The electricity crackled and did nothing as it slammed into the ceramic plates in the gloves. It gave him a tingle and a dead arm in places but the punch did two things. Ceramic doesn’t conduct electricity and the punch broke one of the prongs taking the weapon out of play. Pound for Pound Ivan was considerably stronger though. So Tommy wanted to avoid being against the wall so he slammed his head forward encased in armour and head butted the big Russian. He was hard as fuck right now. Fighting and adrenaline made him hard and he wanted to kill.
11:14 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: After his radio call he turned his assault rifle down the corridor and fired on Ivan. They needed to be out of here quickly.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: The SAS Commando smashes his fist into my baton, rendering it useless as he bends the prongs, his ceramic glove not conductive. It's just a fancy club now. Disgusted I drop it, this is taking too long. The other Commando will be on me any minute now. My back is itching.
The Commando's head butted towards me, but I was already moving, kicking forward with my boots to knock his feet back, and throwing myself backwards, seizing his body armor with my hand to throw him over my head, his headbutt actually working in my favor. I hear a burst of gun fire a split second after I start to throw, and feel a savage explosion of agony rip through my hamstring before the in-flight Commando absorbs the rest of the burst of assault rifle fire with his body armor.
I don't stay around, rolling and shoving myself around the corner of the corridor. My leg is bleeding heavily, as are my abs from that bastard's knife, my head pounding from having it smashed hard to the floor. Suddenly, my radio buzzes as I take stock of the situation, "Delta Squad 20 seconds from your position." Finally the cavalry.
05:45 Watts: Watts slammed into the massive American. Holding the two knives in front of him. The big navy seal immediately going for the neck between the body armour and the head. He had wanted to kill those two prisoners. This will have to do. He grinned at a fellow yank. He couldn’t wait for his blood to run all over the floor.
16:42 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: My assault rifle is out of position to deal with the big knife wielding bastard running at me, I hate misusing it this way, but I bring it up, using it as a shield to block one blade, while I bring up my forearm to smash into his forearm, to deflect his other blade so it hits the wall instead of my neck.
I lift my boot, and try to kick out his knee at the same time, wanting space to fight him properly.
11:15 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I knew I’d hit the fucker but my bullets had also hit Tommy, thankfully in his body armour. Guilt wasn’t part of my repertoire though. Not since this was ultimately a job and danger was part of it.
I walked over to Tommy and helped him up. “Laurie and Jamie are dealing with people on the roof. I’m going after that guy. You go and find the hostages.”
Ultimately the hostages were the important thing. But Tommy could get into places most people couldn’t. He’d taught me how to pick locks.
And that fucker that ran off. He was a survivor. They tended to be the leaders. I wanted the fucker.
I run around the corner and see a massive group of armoured people coming down the corridor. It takes just a split second to see them. The Russian was passing them in the other direction. I pull out two tear gas grenades and throw them before they’ve even pulled up their rifles. My own gun spraying bullets down the hall to keep them off balance and at the sides of the walls as the gas cloud spread down the corridor.
7:11 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Tommy was picked up by Mark and looked at him and nodded. He wanted to go and shiv that fucker. But he was a professional. He knew what he was doing and nodded. He didn’t blame Mark at all for the dull pain in his back from the bullets slamming into it. The massive throb in his back would go away.
He turned and ran past Sam and David fighting. Throwing an elbow at both their combatants as he passed without slowing. He had a role to play. He turned down a corridor and then another eventually finding a dead body. He stopped. Neck broken. Professionally.
He turned abruptly as a door opened and he brought his gun up and slammed it into the face of the person in the door. His finger relaxed on the trigger. “Drop ….” He started before he realised who it was.
He then lowered his gun and nodded, taking his helmet off. “22 Regiment. Red Troop. Trooper Shaw. Here to get you out of here Old Man Styles.” He took off his assault rifle and passed it over. “Take this Sarge.”
“Getting a bit hot at the entrance. Also looking for two kids. One royal marine and one yank. Directions would be good Sarge.”
He said kids. Roger was older than Tommy. But Tommy was a lot older than he looked.
6:29 Watts: One blade slammed into the wall and it went spiralling down the corridor, the other was blocked by a fucking rifle of all things. But I held on to that. The fucker then slammed my knee out from under me. I slam into the wall first then down to one knee. But I have kept one knife in my hand and stabbed that forward into the Ranger’s leg.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: As I open the door a gun is shoved into my fucking face, and just as quickly my own Glock is pointed up towards his face. But my brain catches up quickly, this man was dressed in SAS black, and he wasn't one of the guards.
I hold my fire, and then break out into a wide grin. Looks like making it out of here alive just became more than a remote possibility. "Well fuck me, Trooper, you are a sight for sore eyes . The two prisoners are with me, but they've been fucked up pretty bad, tortured. The American is in a particularly bad way. Not going to be sprinting."
I take the assault rifle, and re-holster my Glock. "I'm guessing you came in from the roof? We'll go out the front entrance, then join up with your lads. It's as safe a place as anywhere else. Should be deserted. All the other guards will be drawn to our lads like flies on honey. I'll take point, you guard our rear."
Hefting the familiar assault rifle, I lead the way. Damn. He who dares...
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I scramble back to my feet, limping badly as my left leg bled from the assault rifle wound. I headed towards the sound of my troops, hearing sounds of pursuit behind me. I'm in no position for a drawn out fight right now, need to get this leg patched up and into battle gear.
I have no idea how Watts or Darrell are getting on, but they could take care of themselves, and reinforcements were nearly there. As the men, in full battle gear, passed me, there was another explosion, accompanied by a soft hissing, and a burning. FUCK. Tear gas. That's going to make things ... difficult.
I cough and choke before I finally get past the spreading cloud and reach the command center. Our medic starts bandaging my leg, and I grunt, "Give me a shot of adrenaline. This fight isn't over yet." He nods, giving me the injection for a supercharge. I quickly put on my battle gear, knives, taser, grenades, sidearm, and shotgun. Time to get back in this fight.
10:29 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: He drops one knife, then falls to his knee in front of me. Grunting, I repositioned my assault rifle, to unload a burst in his head, but the rifle jammed, no doubt from blocking the knife.
Suddenly, I feel a sharp agony burning in my thigh as a blade sinks in through a chink in the armor. These bastards are well trained, the Brotherhood of Steel only recruits the best. I bring the butt of my assault rifle down, looking to smash it into the back of this fucker's neck as my left hand darts down to my tactical belt and draws out my combat blade.
7:11 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Tommy looked at the two. “Right. Fuck you both look like shit. You're going to need to keep moving. Don’t stop. Stay between Styles and myself. If you stop I’ll make it clear that I’m not going to. You get behind me, you’re going to die. So you stay in front. Suck it up cupcakes. You can get out of here in one piece. Pain is only temporary. Move it kids.”
6:29 Watts: Watts felt the assault rifle on the back of his neck and he slammed to the floor but kept his hand on his knife pulling the blade down the Ranger’s leg. Rolling over to avoid a second hit. Continuing to twist and pull the knife. He knew he needed to get back to his feet and glanced around for an opportunity. He saw Darrel fighting another black clad soldier and figured two on one were better so rolled over into that fight slamming the knife into Sam’s thigh brutally. “Darrell. A hand with the big guy.”
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: The young Ranger looks over at the black-clad SAS man. He's in so much pain he doesn't really understand what he's saying. He's got a thick accent as well, that doesn't help. All he knows is he has to keep walking. He can do that. Paul and he had to go to Vegas. And ... the roadtrip. He held onto that one thought as a hurricane of agony did it's best to shatter his mind.
10:11 Darrell: The small black-clad man, SAS, Darrell judges, is fast. He rolls out of the way of the big Alaskan's pounce, twisting in an attempt to sweep out Darrell's legs. The big man goes with it, his incredible training as a hand to hand fighter, showcased when he mauled the big Irishman back in the Congo, kicks in. He turns the fall into a controlled shoulder roll, flashing past the SAS man, coming up to one knee just behind the commando's head, his hand grabbing his blade as he rolls, driving it down for the commando's face.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: My blade is in my hand as I trip him up, but he rolls past in a flash before I can slash at him, fuck he's good. He has his own blade out, kneeling over, stabbing down. I roll towards him, getting inside his guard, I'm pushing off with one boot, to plunge my blade in his guts, when suddenly my leg explodes in agony, and I collapse. I gasp, my leg has been knifed, right in the hamstring of my right leg.
10:11 Darrell: The SAS commando rolls towards the big Alaskan, avoiding his stab, the blade striking sparks off the concrete, twisting it out of his grip.
Then, the SAS Commando starts to drive up, he prepares to throw himself backwards when Watts stabs the Commando in the leg, the SAS man's leg giving out.
Darrell nods, the former SEAL is right, two on one is the smart way to handle this.
He turns towards the big American Ranger.
10:29 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: My opponent, an American I judge, and a traitor no doubt, collapses as I smash the back of his neck, but rips the blade savagely down my thigh, causing blood to spurt and agony to smash into my brain. I ignore the pain, but my leg gives out, and I drop to one knee as he rolls away, stabbing Sam.
I release and throw off my assault rifle, and grab my sidearm with my left, aiming for the head of the American who just stabbed Sam.
10:11 Darrell: I see the American draw his Glock, and point it at Watts. I don't hesitate, but literally pounce on him, grabbing his left wrist and smashing his hand brutally against the wall to make him release his weapon, and with my other hand, I reach down and grab his second Glock off his holster.
07:11 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: “Red 3. Repeat this is Red 3. All packages are secure. Heading out. Repeat heading out.”
He looked at the two kids and motioned them on behind Styles picking up the rear.
10:16 Watts: I pull my knife back from the SAS soldier and roll to my feet as I hear Darrell engaging the bigger guy. He’s down on one knee and Darrell’s dealing with his guns. I shake off the hit to my head, shaking it. No time to concentrate. Just react. Instinct. Training. The SAS guy is down where I stabbed him so I jump up on his back and use that additional height to jump over Darrell and kick the American straight in the face. My cock is hard at the thought of fucking over a Ranger. Slowly gutting him while he screams in agony and pain.
10:29 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: Before I can pull the trigger, the man that had been attacking Sam launches himself at me, smashing my left arm to the wall. My injured shoulder spasms in agony, but I don't drop my Glock, keeping a tight grip on it. A boot smashes into my knifed leg and I spasm in further agony. I grunt, my right hand dropping down to draw my combat knife, when suddenly a massive flying boot crunches into my face and headgear, my head snaps back, blood exploding from my face, as my head is driven into the wall, which probably saved my neck from being broken, but sent an explosion of white light to fill my head, but my helmet protects my head from being split open.
The impact damages my night vision rig, and I'm blind in one eye now. Blood is streaming down my face, but I don't let go of that Glock. I'm in pure survival mode, fighting on instinct.
On instinct alone, I'm reaching for Mark's knife, sheathed on my tactical belt, my hand gripping the hilt, turning to stab the blade into the man trying to wrest my gun from my hand.
10:11 Darrell: Watts boots the big American in his fucking face, and some blood sprays over me. I've got his spare Glock now, and he still resists, refusing to let go of his sidearm. Grunting, I shove his own glock up into his left armpit, where there is no armour, and pull the trigger, sending a bullet ripping up through his armpit, his shoulder, to exit his body through his traps, with a savage explosion of blood. Then, I grab his fucking Glock out of his now limp hand.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: I feel a heavy weight on my back as I struggle to get up, then I hear a crunch, blood spatters near me, then I hear a gunshot.
I turn, brace myself on my good leg, then launch myself from behind, fury and desperation behind me, not knowing if the big American is alive or dead, looking to plunge my blade into the back of the leg of the man who kicked David in the face.
7:11 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: He listened on his radio as they walked. “Okay Laurie. Understood.”
He called Styles in the front. “Sarge. Front door is a no go. It’s guarded. Laurie says hi and to not go that way. Our helicopter will be here in four minutes. Evac through the roof. Building ready to blow bury everyone inside the place.”
09:05 Watts: Watts didn’t see Sam coming as he was concentrating on the American. But he’s dead now from Darrell shooting him it seems. Now to deal with the SAS they think themselves so fucking good.
The knife hit Watts in the back of his leg and he growled and grunted in pain roughly turning and going back down on one knee but bringing his entire weight down on Sam’s neck as he did so with a massive elbow. “Cunt. Fucking cunt. You’ll fucking pay for that.”
10:29 Lieutenant_David_Armstrong: Suddenly, a bullet rips through my shoulder. I scream... my arm explodes into liquid fire, I can feel the bullet ripping through my powerful shoulder and exiting the other side, blood pouring out.
I drop Mark's knife and feel my Glock ripped out of my now limp and ruined left arm. My head drops down, and out of one eye I see Mark's blade. Have to reach it...
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Suddenly a massive elbow smashes down on the back of my neck. Pain rips through me. The back of the neck is one of the few weak spots in the battle armor. I grunt, twisting the blade before my grip is ripped free of it as he twists, but I do more damage, reaching down with my other hand for my sidearm.
10:11 Darrell: The American slumps, and the big Alaskan hear Watts scream. He has two Glocks in his hands, both of them taken off of the injured Ranger. He turns, and sees Watts kneeling on the other Commando's head, but the SAS Commando's back is wide open. He points both Glocks at the Commando's back, and fires, over and over, looking to unload both weapons into the fucker. Eventually, the Brit's armor will degrade to the point where a shot will get through.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: "FUCK. Ivan must know about me, and he's guarding the exits. Okay, let's go join your pals. This could get hot." I look over at Tommy. He seems young, too young to be in the SAS. But somehow.... I had a feeling that only meant he was about as tough as they come.
I turn, leading the way back towards the heat.
07:11 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: “ We can get to the copter and just blow the place. Saves dealing with individuals. Much more efficient.” He basically pushed the two young lads forward as much as he could. It was far too slow for his liking. He considered picking them up. But that would involve an argument.”
They turned the corner heading to the others.
6:17 Marine_Paul_Collins: He was half carrying Roger. Half supporting him. It was difficult to say. He was breathing heavily. His chest was sore from the salt and acid. He wanted to stop but battered through. “Come on. You can do it. We can do it.”
And that’s when they turned the corner and saw the fighting in the corridor. He didn’t recognise Sam or the others. He vaguely recognised the Lieutenant. But he was already down. But he knew Watts. And he knew what Watts had done to Roger.
He didn’t remember in later days any thought process that occurred. He just remembered acting as he brought the gun up to the non armoured guy. He pointed the gun straight at Watts and fired. The first shot missed entirely but the other eleven in the magazine all hit Watts in the head and the chest and Paul didn’t stop walking towards him. The other man was firing into the SAS soldiers back. But Paul didn’t notice. Didn’t care. He just kept walking and firing until the gun started clicking.
10:11 Corporal_Sam_Mason: Suddenly, massive sledgehammers start smashing into my back, over and over, knocking the breath out of me. My ribs are groaning, creaking, then finally the armor gives out and a bullet rips through my degraded armor, and rips through my back, drilling a hole in my body, soul-crushing agony seizing me. I scream... a kind of gasping gargle, blood starting to dribble out of my mouth. Then another bullet rips through my back in another spot and everything starts to go dark.
Just before I lose consciousness, I could swear I felt something wet splashing on the back of my neck... and more gunshots... but this time they weren't hitting me ... but above me? Then... I didn't feel anything else at all.
10:11 Darrell: I grin, seeing first one spurt of blood, then another as I keep the two sidearms pointed at the same spot in the Commando's back, weakening the body armor by repeatedly firing in the same spot until it gets penetrated. But then, suddenly, Watts screams and his face erupts in blood. I turn, and see the two prisoners... and ... Petersen??? And one of the commandos...
The British prisoner is unloading a sidearm into Watts over and over and over.
FUCK..
I'm a sitting duck. I turn and kick the Ranger in the side of his head with the toe of my combat boot to knock him out, then I holster one of my glocks, and heave his limp carcass up, holding him in front of me to act as a shield, my other Glock pressed against his neck, his right arm twisted behind his back in a hammerlock to let me control him as I back off down the corridor. "BACK THE FUCK OFF OR THE RANGER DIES!" I snarl.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I finish arming myself, and limping, head back towards the battle, giving orders, "Have the trucks prepped and ready, it's almost time to go."
05:14 Marine_Paul_Collins: I see Watts die in front of me. The freezing doesn’t happen this time. I see others in danger though and I glare at Darrell. This one has been bragging about killing people. He’d heard in the corridor. Bragging about killing an Irish Marine. That had to be the Colour Sergeant. “OI WANKER!” He shouted very very loudly.
But his adrenaline was running out and he grabbed onto Roger as the gun dropped from his hands.
5:15 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: Oops. Rogue Royal Marine happening. This one had some real issues to work through it seems. I step forward in front of Styles. “Sorry old man. You’re too valuable right now. Stay behind me.”
I look over at the fucker with the American and he’s shot Sam. I think Sam’s still breathing. But I can't check now. Mission comes first.
The other marine is trying to distract him. Fine. Whatever. Leave the kid to his fun. But this is serious business. I pull the rifle up aiming at them. He’s using the American as a shield. Fine. Whatever. I mean. Does he really think he’s going to walk away from this let alone from the corridor. Plus he’s seen the sergeant. “Stay fucking right there.”
I look down the rifle. He’s still moving backwards. Okay. Well fuck this.
Tommy fired straight at Darrell. Through Armstrong. He had David’s shoulder in front of him. The American wouldn’t die from a shoulder wound. But the enemies chest behind his shoulder would fucking be fatal. Or nearly fatal.
He smiled as he pulled the trigger. He was brutal as fuck. He had to be. A lot of guys were bigger than him. Stronger. He had to be quicker and twice as violent. He was also as loyal if not more. He was SAS through and through. He continued smiling as the blood spurted everywhere.
He went to his radio. “Orange 1 down with multiple gunshots. Blue 1 down with multiple gunshots. Red 3 continuing to be extracted with Packets. Red 1. Can you attach ropes to Orange 1 and Blue 1 on the way back.”
6:43 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I was busy watching the corridor keeping it suppressed. The helicopter was nearly here as I listened to Tommy. Both my two lovers were down with gunshots. But that was a small bit of my brain. The SAS didn’t allow emotion on missions. Only the mission. I’d head back. Attach the rappelling ropes to them and drag them out. Mission comes first.
I fire off down the corridor. I wish I’d been able to fucking kill that Russian. Fucker.
10:11 Darrell: Almost to safety, just around the corner.. Then, suddenly the Commando with Petersen points a rifle and.... fucking fires??? At his own man?
The high-powered rifle sends the bullet smashing through the Ranger's already seriously fucked up left shoulder to smash into my left pec. Granted, it was at a much reduced velocity, thanks to the Ranger but it still penetrated. I gasped, blasted onto my back, my lung punctured, I'm fighting for breath, the big Ranger bleeding out on top of me.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger is swaying... blearily looking in awe as Paul kills Watts, firing over and over. Something in him feels ... savagely satisfied.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: On my way back to the battle, I bypass the corridor where my men are standing watch, the tear gas very slow to dissipate in the confined space. It would be suicide for us to charge through there. But there was another way.
I dart into the room that abutted up against the corridor, across from the conference room where the SAS had breached the roof. I slap some of the C4 I'd brought along against the wall, just a small dab. I affix the blasting cap, then back off.
I detonate it, and the concrete wall suddenly explodes out into the corridor, spraying the area with concrete and rubble. I rush towards the hole, shotgun at the ready, biting off a command into my radio, "I've made my own entrance to bypass the tear gas. Send me two men as back up, withdraw the rest of the men to the trucks. If I'm not back in 10 minutes, leave without me."
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: I take in the scene, men down, Darrell, my long time squad mate firing over and over into a prone SAS soldier, a Ranger slumping, covered in blood. Tommy pushes me back as the Marine seems to lose it, firing at Watts. Grimly, I understood. Watts had tortured him and the young injured Ranger.
Darrell recognizes me, and my Glock is out, ready to kill him, but Darrell always was a clever bastard. The big Alaskan uses the downed Ranger as a human shield. FUCK... Then Tommy fires a round through the Ranger and into Darrell. Grimly, I nod at him. "It was the only way to save the American." Then, I head through the door of the conference room to the ropes dangling over the rubble.
My instincts are to stay and fight. But my duty is more important. Smoothly, I help Tommy as we get the injured Marine and young Ranger to safety. I heard Tommy's radio call out, someone else is going to bring in the other two.
05:15 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: I hear the sound of the helicopter arriving as I push the others onto the ropes and up to Jamie and Laurie.
I look at Styles. “Up your go Sarge. I’ll follow you up. You're like an egg right now. Need to be fucking mollycoddled until you’re home. Then I like Corona and a big fat box of chocolates.”
He pointed to the rope. “Guys up there. I’ll follow you up.”
6:43 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I head back and quickly check David and Sam. They were still alive but both were shot up. Alive was good. Just a minute or so more. I’ll hook them up and we leave.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: The wall erupts suddenly into shards and chunks of concrete, spraying the corridor, David, Darrell, Sam, Mark, and Watt's dead body with rubble.
I charge into the breach, spying the bodies littering the floor, and that same Commando I tried to take care of originally, before I was interrupted. Time to finish what I started. I start to smoothly swing my shotgun around to get a bead on the Commando.
15:58 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I Slam myself into the far wall to get away from the concussive blast and seeing the glint of a weapon being aimed in my direction I dive away from my colleagues unconscious bodies to get them out of danger and rolled over making it harder to get a target on me pulling out a flash bang and dropping it next to me. I barely have a second to close my eyes, my ears covered by my mask before the bright flash goes off. I then jump up quickly to get in close to the Russian. He wasn’t going to get away again.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: Suddenly, cleverly, the fucking bastard lets off a flash bang. I wasn't expecting that. I'm deafened, and blinded, my ears ringing, and my eyes full of bright, hot, swirling colors. FUCK.
I fire the shotgun blindly, towards the position the Commando had last been in before throwing myself forward, towards him. I'm blinded ... deafened temporarily. My only chance is to make contact with him. If I'm in contact with him, then I can fight him, I can anticipate his movements, let my hand to hand combat training interpret the myriad tells a human body gives out as it tenses and shifts to attack.
16:26 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I ripped my mask off in order to fight more effectively, looking at the Russian hitting him as he jumped towards me slamming into each other's hand. My first immediately slams into his face, my gloves making contact with his nose, he’s wearing body armour now so it’s harder but I also slam my two boots down onto his legs. I know he was injured there. Every advantage counts. We slam to the ground together already grappling. Two very very experienced combatants.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I feel a fist smash into my face, and my nose breaks, blood gushing from the brutal impact. Pain lances into my brain, but I embrace the agony, riding it like a surfer. I feel his boots smashing into my legs, and my left leg screams in agony as I slam to the ground, gripping the Commando's body armor tightly to drag him with me. I need him to stay in contact with me.
Breathing through the agony, I plant my good leg and heave, trying to flip the tough Brit over onto his back, reaching out with my gloved fist to claw his face, seeking to gouge his eyes as I scramble for control.
16:44 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: He grabs for my eyes and temporarily blinds me as the pain lances through my face. I use one hand to grab his wrist to force it out of my face. He’s brutally strong but so am I. My other first goes forward. Not closed but open jamming my fingers into his windpipe. We are so close my crotch and his right next to each other. His legs and mine around each other. In another world this would look to outsiders like two alpha males wrestling during sex. But actually it was life and death right now.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: He grabs my wrist and forces it back. I grunt, gather my strength, and start to push my hand back towards his face, but then his fingers smash into my throat, sending spears of agony knifing through me, making me gasp, and allowing him to completely force my hand back.
Our legs are twined together, as we are laid out on our sides, struggling, crotch to crotch, man to man. Grunting and gasping, I reach out with my mouth and bite his hand, catching on his gloves, as he retracts it from my throat.
He's holding one hand, and now I'm holding his other hand in my teeth. That leaves my fist free. I plow it with every ounce of my power into his jaw, the easiest target to reach from my angle, my hard Spetsnaz muscles corded like steel as my ceramic plated gloves drive with brutal force into his jaw.
10:11 Sergeant_Jeremy_Styles: Suddenly, another explosion rocks the building. I turn to look at the SAS squad. "Fuck." Is all I say. We still have men down there.
10:11 Private_Roger_Travers: Roger looks up as another explosion rips through the building. He's swaying, half out of his mind with pain, becoming delirious. He mumbles... "Was I dreaming... or was the Lieutenant ... down there??"
09:15 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: My head slams backwards onto the ground due to the force of the punch. We can’t get far from each other being locked together as we are. I don’t notice it much as I’m too busy staying alive but his massive cock was brushing against mine as I go to pull my glove back but he’s biting it. My head is a bit woozy from the punch but I just force my hand further into his mouth. “Bite this.” He will either have to let go or the ceramic plate will destroy all his teeth as I press forward still holding his hand. I then bring my knee up and slam my own plated knee into that massive crotch.
11:56 Trooper_Tommy_Shaw: He looked up as the helicopter started heading down towards the roof. “Well you know the situation. We don’t go back. They get out or they don’t. The mission is you and these two.” He looked at them. “Anyone starts to go down again I will shoot them. And I am not fucking joking. That includes you Sarge. You’re the package here.”
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I grunted as my fist smashed into his jaw, doing some damage. He's a tough bastard. Of course he is, he's SAS. He might be my enemy, but even the Spetsnaz don't underestimate the SAS.
Our legs are so tightly locked up, I can feel his crotch and manhood brushing against mine. I'm struck for a brief instant by the intimacy of the moment.. the intimacy of two men locked in mortal combat. In other circumstances, this would be foreplay.
I feel him start to force his hand further into my mouth, and instead of resisting, I roll with it, twisting onto my back, using the Commando's force against him, to pull him... directly into yet another savage ceramic plated fist driving into his jaw, letting go of his hand, the power behind this blow enhanced by his own momentum. I'm hoping the blow will knock him back, and let me scramble on top of him.
His knee drives up, aiming for my crotch, but since I'm twisting and rolling, the blow slams into my thigh instead, but it still fucking hurts, the bullet wound in my hamstring turning to fire for a moment.
09:41 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I end up going over the top of him and slamming into the ground, his punch knocking me down again. He was brutal and would have knocked out a lesser man. He was Russian special forces I was sure of it. I’d trained with them. They’re decent. Good men, a lot of them. Not this one.
My knee misses that huge cock but I notice the wince when my knee connects with his leg.
This would be foreplay for Mark as well. With David and Sam anyway. His cock was not soft. It never was in a fight.
I’m on the ground now as the Russian was getting on top. Fuck. I kick out with my boot to the injured leg while ensuring this time I have sight of both his fists.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I scramble to get on top of the SAS man. He's fucking tough. That fist I plowed into his jaw should have knocked him out, but he's still going. I feel a grudging respect, my cock is rock hard inside my trousers, the sheer aggression and strength of my opponent calling out to me on a primal level.
My injured leg is slowing me down, and I try to avoid that kick by pivoting away, but my leg won't obey. I involuntarily scream in agony as my leg collapses under me.
But grimly, I push onwards, thrusting hard with my good leg, shooting on top of the downed commando as he retracts his leg from that vicious kick, my hurt leg dragging.
As I go to drop on top of his broad chest, I pivot so I'm in a crossbody position, angling my body to stay well away from his legs, and to bring my good knee near his head. I reach out with my hands not to punch or kick him, but to grapple with his own hands, to keep them occupied. Then, I drive my armored knee cap with all the force I can muster into the side of his head.
10:15 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I also feel a grudging respect. There’s not many outside my friend group who can keep up with me in a fight.
His plated knee slams into my face knocking me into the wall drawing blood from the corner of my eye. Fuck. That had fucking hurt. I couldn’t deal with multiple of those. He had both my hands. And his legs were away from mine. But he was across my body. Not my legs. I draw my knees up actually moving him closer to my head and then I push up with all my core strength moving his position enough to take my head away from his lethal knees. But we’re still grappling with each other’s hands. My cock is as stiff as a rock.
In a very different world where he’d not left his special forces or I had left mine we’d be naked together. Brutally destroying each other before one wins and fucks the other. But that’s not happening here despite what my cock wants. My job is to kill him.
His knees are nowhere near my head now. But I can’t allow him time to get back in position. But he slammed me into a wall. I slam my feet into that wall. Pushing us both away from it. My back screaming with the strength it’s taking using the toes of my boots as leverage to flip on top of the Russian.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: My knee smashes hard into the side of his head, I draw back to send another knee to finish him, but he draws his knees up, heaving me towards his head, then pushing me off him with sheer core strength. My knee is nowhere near his head now. Fuck. He's one tough fucker. My cock twitches. It will be an honor to kill him.
I grunt, trying to move back in, dropping my weight back onto his chest, but suddenly he braces his boots against the wall and HEAVES, the force of his explosive thrust flipping us both over so he's on top of me.
I grunt, releasing my grip on his hands as we flip over, my battle-training kicking into full gear as I reach up to grab the collar of his tactical vest, and pull him down towards my head, to unbalance him, hoping to make him use his arms to stabilize his position, as with my other fist I shoot it straight up, aiming a savage punch for his adam's apple.
10:35 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: As I land on top and he releases my hands I grab David’s knife from my belt and slam it down right at Ivan’s head.
But the fucker had grabbed me and the brutal slam to my throat made me miss entirely slamming it into the fleshy part of the shoulder.
I cough as I slam down onto Ivan unable to get air in for a second slamming my head down onto his face. The blood dripped from my face onto his.
On top again I bring my leg up and try to slam my knee into his balls again. Some people thing this is fighting dirty. It’s not. There is no such thing as dirty fighting. Just winning and losing.
My throat is on fire though my head is dizzy from that punch and as I steady myself with one hand I abandon trying to stab him with the other and instead palm strike the underside of his jaw as I collapse down on him unable to stay upright
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: He is fast, fast as fucking hell, he's got a blade out in a split second, and driving towards my face, but my fist to his throat fucks him up, and instead it slams into my shoulder. The shoulder is not heavily armored, and it doesn't fully stop the blade, which sinks into the hard muscle of my delt with a fiery pain.
My arm spasms. He smashes his knee into my nuts, stunning me, then slams the palm of his hand under my chin, the three blows in brutal succession nearly knocking me out. I'm spasming beneath him, my teeth are rattled, and blood is trickling out of the corner of my mouth, and there is a knife sticking out my shoulder. The pain is monumental.
Groaning, trying to breathe deep, trying to focus through flashes of light exploding in my head, I reach over with my good arm and grab the handle of the knife sticking out of my shoulder. I yank it out, and a stream of blood starts soaking my body armor. I focus intensely through the ocean of pain hammering my head, breathing deep as the Commando gasps on top of me.
My fist did serious damage to the tough bastard, and he did just as much to me. He is just about the most evenly matched opponent I've ever fought. In other circumstances...
My good arm, holding the SAS Commando's own knife now, wet with my blood moves down to his waist line. I needed to kill him, but I couldn't easily go for his neck, the angle would be awkward, and he would see what I am doing and try to stop me.
I take the dripping blade in my good arm, and drive the point of the blade up and under the bottom edge of his tactical vest, against his thickly muscled obliques without any body armor between his core and the blade, then with every ounce of power I can muster, I look to drive the blade up to the hilt into his obliques, to sink it deep into the centre of his core.
11:10 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I feel the knife sliding in and the pain in my abdomen. Luckily the knife angle is shallow due to the heavily armoured trousers and inflexible body armour so it’s not fatal but it hurts like fuck and I can’t allow him to retain hold of that blade. Not for an instant more. That’s the most dangerous thing in the fight and it’s stuck in me. My body armour is filled with blood.
His nuts weren’t protected as I thought they would be. I had felt his massively hard cock. Darn the fucker was getting turned on by this. Ignoring the fact that I was hard as well. He hadn’t had time to put on full armour during the time he had escaped. So they were vulnerable. But I didn’t have enough time to play around or risk even a second more for him to push that knife deeper into a vital organ. That would literally be fatal. My hand goes up to my assault vest and the easily accessible medical pouch which was for emergencies and grabbed a syringe designed for injecting soldiers through clothing ready to go in emergencies and slammed it back through his trousers into his cock and nut sack. Pressing down on it to release the adrenaline right into the blood stream trying to pull away to get him to release his grip on the deadly knife.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I feel the blade sink into his body, but the angle is too shallow, I need to angle it inward to aim for his liver, but suddenly, I feel him grabbing something off his vest, and suddenly, a terrifying agony erupts in my erect cock and balls. I scream, loud, hard, piercing. I rip the blade out of the SAS Commando's side, doing more damage on the way out then I did with it on the way in.
I flail, a surge of wild pain-filled adrenaline lending me desperate strength as I tossed the SAS fucker off me. He'd ... injected something right into my fucking cock and balls. The pain is unbelievable. I clutch my cock, holding the bloody knife with the other hand, before it drops out of my hand as I involuntarily cup my aching balls. I curse, "FUCKING MOTHER FUCKING CUNT SUCKING BASTARD.." I focus with a monumental surge of self discipline, trying to master the pain, trying to stay focused on my wounded foe. I have to finish him. I can feel my heart beating faster, and a surge of energy rushing through me... did that bastard inject me with adrenaline?
11:33 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I roll away looking at him wishing I had a gun on my belt right now but I’d lost it during the fight. I clutch my body armour to my stomach looking at him. The pain is huge. We’re both hurting badly now. I am next to David now and I lean down and pick up my own knife that David had been using.
I take a step forward but collapse to my knee as the pain in my stomach got to me. I look at the other combatant. I glare at him. “You need a saline injection in there in the next minute or so. Or you’ll never fucking fuck anyone again. You’ll never get it up.”
I realise that right now my chances of winning the fight with this wound are less than 50/50 so I am giving him a chance to end it by bluffing. Mind games. I hold the knife out. “Or do you want to go again Spetznaz?”
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I glare at the Brit as he clutches his stomach, and I clutch my balls, the agony is insane. He manages to get up first, though, having a needle poked into a man's crown jewels is no fucking joke. My stomach is roiling. I can't hold it in, so as the British Commando staggers up, I turn my head and vomit on the floor. I feel a bit better after that.
My eyes glare at him, as he takes a step towards me, then collapses, blood pouring out of the brutal wound in his side. He's picked up another knife.
I seem to have lost my own sidearm in the struggle with the fucker. He tries to bluff me. I grin at him, with a suddenly evil smile, wiping away some bile and blood from my chin. "Do you seriously think mind games are going to work on me, you cunt?" I speak in my Russian accent, with deep contempt.
I stand up, my leg so badly injured that it can barely hold my weight, I move towards him though, every step is agony. It looks as though I'm coming in for a frontal assault when suddenly, I dive forward, onto my good shoulder, rolling through, executing my move with blinding speed, extending my good leg as I come out of my shoulder roll, and kick it with ruthless, brutal power towards the SAS Commando's wounded side, and at the same time, release the blade I was holding onto, throwing it straight towards the Commando's face.
I'm reaching the limits of my endurance, balancing so much pain, from my leg, my nuts, my shoulder, the slice on my abs, but there is not an ounce of surrender or quit in me.
11:53 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I slam my arm up and the knife embeds itself in my armoured arm. But slicing through hard enough to cut into the flesh. Fuck I’m running out of steam. I can barely stand. And now he slams into my side and I grunt. “BASTARD” as the wounded side is targeted sending a wave of nausea through me. My knife is brought up slicing through his arm as well but getting dropped before I could get it to slam in hard to kill him.
We’re back on the floor now both injured and I slam my fist into his face. Was less power behind it though than at the start of the fight.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: My blade slams into his upraised arm, and that is what I was hoping for. He focused on defending his head, and my boot slammed brutally into his side.
His tough body folds up over my boot in his side and he falls on me, slicing at me with his blade. I bring my injured left arm just in time, and catch the blade on my armored arm, but the force of his falling weight and his sheer strength penetrates the armor, and sinks into my flesh, adding more pain to my hurt arm, but I rip my arm aside and the blade goes flying.
He lands on top of me though, and sends his fist down towards my face. He's such a fucking magnificent beast. Despite being injected, my cock is still hard. The pain is slowly fading ... not so intense, it's more ... exquisite now. I can't ever remember being more turned on in a fight to the death with an enemy in my entire life.
I raise my good arm though, and catch his fist mid-punch, feeling the significant lack of power behind that blow. He's fading fast. Grunting, still riding high on the surge of adreniline my enemy so thoughtfully provided, I throw my good leg up and over his torso.
My combat training kicks into high gear as I yank his trapped fist off to the side, pulling his shoulder down into my chest. I grit my teeth as I reach my injured arm over his shoulder and under his forearm to grab my wrist. Then, drawing heavily on that surge of adrenaline, I wrench up and back on that trapped arm, not holding back, going full fucking bore, seeking to break his arm in my kimura hold.
12:29 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: The pain surges through my arm as he locks the hold in place. Fucking hell I am hard as fuck. This fight is probably one of the most erotic brutal and deadly I’ve had in my life.
I can feel my arm extending in a lot of pain. His leg over my torso grants me a bit of leeway. But it’s going to need to nearly end the fight.
I stop resisting in that arm entirely. Allowing my head and injured shoulder to go lower on his body. I feel the agony of my arm breaking and the snapping of the bone but I am now close enough to lean forward and with all my strength I bite down on his cock and balls through his trousers. Not in a moment erotic. My teeth are biting into his massive 10 inch thick hard meat like it’s a sausage roll as hard as I can.
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I grunt with effort, my injured arm trembling, but most of the power for the hold comes from my uninjured right arm. Slowly, I feel his hard muscled arm yielding.
I think he's trying some kind of escape attempt as he drags his head and shoulder down my battle-armored torso. But it doesn't save him in the end, as the tendons and bones of his powerful arm suddenly give way with a sickening crack.
But just as I think the fight is all but over, just as my cock is twitching, throbbing with fight lust, the sheer aggression and power of this beast making me hard as hell, my cock erupts in outrageous agony. I SCREAMMMMMMMMM.
He's fucking biting my fucking cock.... He's fucking actually trying to bite my cock off... I go fucking mental, agony paralyzing me. My reaction is instinctual... I swing my leg that's draped over his torso into position, and fucking unload an utterly brutal and bone crunching adreniline fueled kick directly into the side of his head with savage, desperate power, releasing his broken arm.
I can feel more damage being done as I kick the fucking bastard off me, his teeth sunk into my cock, ripping through the fabric of my trousers. I never had time to put a fucking cup on. Blood is soaking my crotch now as I roll away, onto one knee, grabbing my dick, the pain is sickening, and I turn aside and vomit again.
I'm gonna fucking kill that bastard. I scream out, "YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD." But even in the midst of my agony... even in the midst of outrageous cock-burning pain, I feel a deep strirring, an attraction... fuck me, what a magnificent beast he is.
12:53 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: “NOT FUCKING YET, PUTIN” I roll over my arm limply by my side and I lean down and pull out a grenade from Sam’s vest and pull the pin with my teeth which were covered in Ivan’s blood.
I hold it up. “Fancy taking a chance now, Russian.” My breath was hard now and the pain in my arm was threatening to knock me out. “I’d take you with me. That’s what matters. And you know I would don’t you. You know this isn’t a bluff.”
I wince in pain as I look at him. Fuck. What would he be like to fight side by side with. We’d be fucking unstoppable.
The helicopter upstairs I can hear must have loaded the guys and I hold the grenade up painfully in my non broken arm. My mission was done. That’s all that matters. I look at Ivan.
“Your cock feeling okay. Not as tasty as sausage sandwiches back in Hereford.”
10:11 Commando_Ivan_Usov: I look at him for a moment... dizzy from the waves of agony pounding my brain. I wanted to throttle him. Beat his fucking face in with my fists. Fuck him till his ass was a raw, gaping wound.
But he wasn't bluffing. I knew he wasn't bluffing. Because if I were in his shoes, I wouldn't be bluffing either. I wasn't afraid to die. But I'd seen Darrell under the big Ranger. He might still be alive. And I had responsibilities, duties to Derek and my men. I couldn't indulge my personal desires. But we'd meet again. Somehow. Fuck yes we would.
What a magnificent beast... if only we'd managed to get to him before he joined the SAS, he'd have made a fucking unstoppable mercenary. He belonged with the Brotherhood. But for now, it was time to pull back. I stood up, "I think my cock feels just about as good as your arm. Train harder fucker. You need to work on your technique, or next time it will be your neck instead of your arm, and your heart instead of your guts."
I turn, and quickly stagger through the gaping breach I'd blown, radioing, "ON my way. Have a team standing by to check the corridor outside the conference room once they leave. Watts is dead, but Darrell might still be alive."
Damn... a part of me wanted to still be fighting that SAS bastard....
13:11 Sergeant_Mark_Christopher: I wait till he’s gone and slowly put the pin in the grenade. “Red 1 to Red Troop. Could do with a hand getting these out of here.”
Jamie and Laurie were down a few seconds later and took David and Sam up where Tommy started to stem their bleeding.
I had heard the Russian on the radio and when Sam and David were out I retrieved both my knife and Davis’s securing them to my belt and then I took out my notepad and wrote a note next to the still Alive Darrell.
COULD HAVE KILLED THIS ONE. DIDN’T. YOU AND ME NEXT TIME. PRACTICE YOURSELF. YOU MISS A LOT.
which is the closest to respect right now. I place the grenade on the note so he doesn’t miss it and knows I could have done.
I slowly get to the rope and just attach it to myself one arm hanging by my side. I get winched to the helicopter and look at Styles.
“You’ve gotten fat and I fucking hate you right now. You owe me every beer in Hereford. You’d better be worth the intel Jeremy. I can fucking tell you.”
I smile. “And you need to shave.”
Published: 2021-08-30, viewed 47 times.
Comments
0