Trying to avoid the syringe, James stabbed the hot barrel towards the second Russian, trying to jam it in his throat. See that it did not work, he spun the shotguns butt into the guys left kneecap.

Wolfbane attacked furiously, but the Russian was up for the onslaught. He deftly managed to evade the thrush of the shotgun muzzle aimed at his throat, but despite his strongest block, the butt-stroke of the heavy shotgun landed solidly. The brunt of the blow slammed into the man's raised shit. The blow vibrated into WOlfbane's cold hands.

Dropping his foot to the ground with a loud grunt of pain, the Russian commando forced himself on and planted his shoulder into Wolfbane's chest as his arm wrapped around the American's lower back. The HK was trapped between the two men as the momentum of the attack drove the pair towards the ground behind Wolfbane. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the syringe rise in the man's hand.

OCC: It is obvious that the Russian intends to inject Wolfbane, he is tackling because he most likely has suffered an injury to the lower leg that is hampering him at the moment and is going to seek a controlling position to try and inject Wolfbane from. This will all be handled using body combat unless an appropriate melee weapon comes into play and melee weapon skills are required. No wrong thing to do here, just state what you would like to attempt and make your rolls. Good luck.

'French rifle?..It's the goddamn asshole all star team."

Roger aimed and fired and the man with the fancy french anti-material rifle just to keep the enemy honest.

14:14, Today: Roger A Castle rolled 3 using 1d100.  Sniper Shot.

With so many of these guys he had no intention of hanging around and immediately rolled back and crawled back toward his original position, stopping a couple of meters short before moving back to where he could see.

Andrew continues to fire on the special forces soldiers. He fires two bursts at the solider holding the rocket launcher who had just hit the tank and then continuing the sweep to engage the Russians to the left.

"Foot down Walsh. Get us out of here."


Andrew Johnson
Standing, firing HMG
DShK 12.7×108mm (??/50)
Firing on rocket launcher and left hand SF.


Andrew Johnson rolled 20 using 1d100.  Burst 3.
Andrew Johnson rolled 37 using 1d100.  Burst 2.
Andrew Johnson rolled 92 using 1d100.  Burst 1.



-

Remembering some of the fights he had growing up on the streets, grabbing his chin strap, James started swinging his helmet at the commie. The first swipe was not close but the back hand swing caused the helmet to smash into the already injured kneecap.


I figure to treat it as a club attack.
21:14, Today: James Wolfebane rolled 13 using 1d6+11.  Helmet damage left leg.
21:09, Today: James Wolfebane rolled 9 using 1d10.  location.
21:08, Today: James Wolfebane rolled 12 using 1d100.  Hit with helmet MC.
21:07, Today: James Wolfebane rolled 78 using 1d100.  Hit with helmet MC.

Ivan Peortravich had just settled the range finding guide of his binoculars onto the side of the tank when a sharp crack passed through his hands, the binoculars, and his forehead. Roger sighed in relief and slipped his hand up to grip the sling at the front swivel. Crawling in the mud of a typhoon induced rainstorm had its advantages when trained men with high powered rifles were looking for you.

He was making his way back to near his previous position when the rumble of the heavy machine gun atop the T62m continued.

Andrew cussed, his opening fire missed the Russian and demolished most of the foliage the man had been hidden in. The Russian remained focused and drew a rocket from a carrier at his hip as he side stepped. Bringing his arms to together to mate the rocket to the launcher in front of him, the Russian met the bullets of Andrew's following fire. Heavy slugs tore into the man's thigh, climbed to pierce his hip, then struck the nose of the rocket as it slid into the launcher. The nose cone collapsed under the bullet's impact sending the initialization rod backwards into the cap that detonated the bursting charge and thus set off the shaped charge.

The resulting explosion knocked the Russian off his feet and slammed him in the mud. Most of one arm was missing and there were strings of intestine hanging out of his abdomen to one side. Andrew continued, walking his fire onto the man who had moved further to their left. The machine gun's bolt closed with a loud clunk on an empty chamber as the last bullet fired struck the man in the lung just above his heart.

Andrew mentally cursed and looked down along the cupola for more ammunition. He was instantly relieved for two reasons; the ammo was already set out for easy access from the hatch along the turrets side rails and that ammo was also the same tracer-heavy anti-aircraft mix.

Fear washed over Wolfbane like a wave of cold river water during a flash flood. Panic fought to drown him, but his helmet made the perfect life vest. With crazy determination he repeatedly pummeled at the Russian commando. Moments later the man's weight collapsed on top of him. The man had an obviously broken nose and several cuts along the side of his jaw.

Wolfbane rolled the body, rode the momentum over to kneel, and quickly looked about for the HK shotgun. The realization that he had just beaten the crap out of a Russian special forces soldier with his helmet filled him a rising sense of accomplishment and a crashing sense of foreboding since he knew the man wasn't acting on his own.

Andrew dropped down and pulled a ammunition can out while throwing up the top receiver plate. He places in the belt having set the can into the cradle and then once the receiver plate is down he pulls the charging handle and continues to rotate the gun on its ring and engages the remaining enemy on the left first before continuing on and engaging the troops on the right.

Andrew Johnson
Standing, firing HMG
DShK 12.7×108mm (50/50)
Reloading HMG and continuing to engage surrounding enemy forces.


Andrew Johnson rolled 51 using 1d100.  Burst 3 = Hit
Andrew Johnson rolled 87 using 1d100.  Burst 2 = Miss
Andrew Johnson rolled 70 using 1d100.  Burst 1 = Hit


-

With the foe knocked out for the time being, James quickly reloaded the shotgun as he knew he was going to need it again. Once that was done, he checked his surroundings for any other threats before tying up him up, using the boot laces and chucking the boots out into the field at different locations. The spooks will love to have a chat with him.

Dragging the Russian commando along was difficult. Wolfbane had forgotten just how much a strong man could weigh. It had been some time since he had needed to drag anyone along, not since the last major battle in Europe anyway. It struck him how odd combat was, Andrew was chopping up the area around the T-62M with a 12.7mm heavy machine gun that roared over the thunder and rain and Wolfbane was just noticing the noise.

The day was finally beginning to break through the clouds and rain turning the morning into a very dark, gloomily gray landscape. He could plainly see the outline of the tank with it long barreled cannon and the muzzle flare of the DShK machine gun as Andrew hammered away at a skittering soldier. The man was quick on his feet, even in the mud, and fired back using a Kalashnikov of some flavor. Tracers cross paths until finally after a handful of near misses Andrew put a handful of heavy bullets through the man on the ground.

Wolfbane did a quick check of the area, but didn't see anyone close. A shot rang out, drawing his attention back in the direction of the tank. Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

Laying on the ground, on the opposite side of the tank from the approaching Wolfbane, Andrew was in pain and startled. The bullet that had punched into his calf had taken him by surprise as he was reaching for another ammo can. It occurred to him that he had clipped in such a way to be taken prisoner. He sighed and adjusted himself on the ground, these sons-a-bitches were dedicated to their cause. He was convinced of that since they had killed a handful of them already.

(OOC:Andrew suffered a hit to the leg, taking 11 points of damage, the impact felt light but the bullet passed completely through with minimal tissue damage, most likely a light, high velocity round like a .223 or 6mm)

Patric, not realizing that Andrew had fallen from the turret was still letting the tank creep slowly forward at a walking pace.

A muzzle flash caught Roger's attention a split second before the report and Andrew's sudden crash to the ground. Tracking back to where the shot came from Roger searched, but the sun rise had finally turned the night-like morning into a very gray daylight. He would have to take a few minutes to change optics.

(OOC:Roger needs to make a RCN check, normal level with binos, or at half using the night sight. He can change to a standard scope and search at normal as well. it will take a few minutes to change out the scopes, far less time with the binos.)

Roger goes with the Binocs.

20:47, Today: Roger A Castle rolled 72 using 1d100.  RCN with Binoculars. Success.

Roger smiled, they were two of the three Spetznas snipers. One held what appeared to be a bull barreled target rifle, possibly a Remington 40X. And it was probably the rifle that was used to shoot Andrew.

But, the other rifle was also 'liberated' as well and had the look of a long, sleek hunting rifle. Judging by the look of it is was something substantial; a long bolt rifle of medium bore along the lines of a .300 magnum or a .338. Something with long legs and a lot of ouch factor.

The two men were moving. Low crawling into a new position. Their course took them in the direction of a large patch of greenery that looked like wintering honeysuckle bush. Good cover from Andrew in this storm. It was about one hundred meters on the nose to the bush.

Roger couldn't help his (hopefully) wounded buddy from here but he could get revenge.

He also couldn't blame these guys for rearming themselves. Any gun shop in Florida was going to have a better precision weapon then their arsenals normally issued. But that didn't mean he would tolerate them shooting up his personal favorite John Bulls.

His initial reaction was to shoot the man who had drawn blood first but after he did a little math he decided he'd rather not take return fire from the big bore rifle.

He targeted the man with the bigger gun.

21:10, Today: Roger A Castle rolled 27 using 1d100.  Sniper Shot.

"Bugger this for a joke." Andrews draws his Glock from it's holster as he radios Walsh in the tank that he has been hit and to stop moving forward. Stopping for a second to listen if anyone was approaching Andrew kept a two handed grip on the handgun.

Andrew Johnson rolled 96 using 1d100.  Recon.

He then set to attending to his wound with a field dressing from the pouch on his webbing.


-

Andrew was just disinfecting the exit wound when a lone shot rang out. It came from Roger's position somewhere towards the shoreline. A moment later a man screamed as if he just had his face blown off. Andrew cringed, turned his head to spit into the dirt and curse the suffering Spetznas and noticed Wolfbane about thirty meters away. He was literally dragging a tied up Russian commando along the ground behind him as he did his best to keep a low profile.

Roger squeezed the round off, satisfied the moment the rifle fired. It was a smooth shot and he was able to keep the target in the scope. A split second after the shot the man moved just as the bullet struck. It miss the man's temple, but as he pulled his head back to look over his rifle's scope he was struck in the mastoid plate just under his left eye. The man's face evaporated in a crimson mist and a blood curtling scream erupted from the man's mouth.

The other two Spetznas showed their experience. They bugged out immediately. One, dropping the bull barreled target rifle, rolled into cover and scrambled away as if an A10 were diving on his position. The other, previously not spotted, jumped up several meters behind the first and took a lunging stride and dove into a shallow depression. Muddy water splashed as the man landed. But, he was immediately out of sight.

The man Wolfbane was dragging tried one more time to wriggle free, but it was no use. He had been very securely tied up with parachute cord and turned into a Russian version of a spring sausage; long and chunky and simply drug around until needed.

Castle rolled back down from his firing position again.

#"There are two more active snipers out here. Watch your asses."#

He also gave the others a reference for where he had last seen the shooters.

He then crawled like only a lifer infantryman could, this time even further in the direction of his original position, and wondered how long this game of high stakes whack-a-mole would go on.

10:16, Today: Roger A Castle rolled 59 using 1d100.  RCN. Success.

Andrew indicated to his team mate where he was while doing so silently. Once Wolfebane had seen him he again stopped what he was doing for a moment to listen to his surroundings before finishing the first aid he was administering to himself.

Andrew Johnson rolled 28 using 1d100.  RCN = success.



-

"Johnson if I sit here I'm dead. I'm going to spin her around and head North can you keep up with me or get back on noard?" Pat broadcast over the radio.  Pat knew he had to get the Tank somewhere safe and then get out he was much more useful wigh a rifle.

The whine of gas turbine engines begins to grow into the familiar sound of approaching main battle tanks. By the sound of it, they were rolling in from nearly due east. Not the expected approach, but then when did a plan ever survive contact with the enemy. But the sound was unmistakable; Abrams MBTs were closing on their position.

The Poles thought so too. Smoke was beginning to pop up along the far side of the road nearly two hundred meters away. A lot of smoke, easily six dozen grenades had been tossed. The sound of clanking treads was soon accompanied by the sounds of crashing trees as the last Poles in the area began their egress away from the onrushing tanks.

Two things occurred to the team immediately; they needed to contact the incoming allied elements to avoid friendly fire incidents and they would need to identify the T62M as a captured vehicle before some quick triggered tank gunner changed its nationality to Swiss with a armor piercing fin stabilized discarding sabot depleted uranium round.

Roger got on the radio and made the necessary communications but he never stopped scanning for the missing spetsnaz snipers.

He didn't want them to get in any parting shots if it could be avoided.

Of course he didn't have enough hands to use the radio and the bolt rifle at the same time so a quick warning was all he would be able to provide.

Andrew concentrated on finishing his bandaging and making sure he had it on correctly. He then used his radio to indicate to the oncoming heavy brigade that the tank in the middle of the field was surrounded by friendlies and their targets were within the rapidly bellowing smoke on the far side of the road.

Then he let them know they had wounded and that Russian special forces were in the immediate vicinity, giving Tran's position as they likely place any hold outs would be.

Lastly turning to their own teams comms channel he told the rest to consolidate on the tank and also gives the same warning for the area where Tran was last.



-
This message was last edited by the player at 23:53, Mon 09 Mar 2020.

The Abrams tanks came on like locomotives. They steamrolled through the area hunting for Polish infantry and Armor like Eagles looking for bass in a summer stream. The occasional rip of machine gun fire or the crashing report of a main gun made it through the typhoon's winds to the team.

Several HMMWVs (humvees) puled up to the house and a collection of NCOs and Officers got and ultimately made their way over to the team. After nearly an hour of debriefing and issuing orders a Major named Hanson walked over the men and explained the situation to them.

"We have the Poles on the run, the Abrams are cutting them to pieces." He said with a smile. "I've been give priority to get a chopper in here and get you men back to the ship for a week in the infirmary. I'm afraid that is all the time we can spare. After that you'll be reinserted, most likely to central Florida by air. About twenty miles from here. Looks like that is where we need the most on the ground Intel. Good luck, gentlemen."

Andrew ticked along during the debrief doing what was needed to do while not aggravating his wound to much. One of the medics accompanying the heavy brigade had given him some pain meds that had taken the edge off, but he knew that the upcoming hours probably would test their limits when it came to managing the pain.

He would try and give a hand getting all their gear together for the transfer to the ship and he was looking forward to a week off.


-

Dragging the Russian with him, James made some small talk. "I will guess that you know enough English that you should consider yourself lucky." he said, not really caring how many rocks he dragged the prisoner over.  "At least your nose will heal up. Your buddy is going to have whatever nickname you guys have for someone with no balls, "IF" he is still alive..."

Once he made contact with the others, he turned over the prisoner. "Be careful what you say. Just to be on the safe side, pretend that he knows English real well, like he lived here at some point in his life. And tell the spooks to not toss him out the helo in mid air like they did with the VC years ago."

Once the area was rolled over by the incoming friendlies Roger moved first to where their sole casualty lay and confirmed he was, in fact, KIA and beyond help.

Next he entered the brush where he had killed the sniper with the big bore rifle and searched for the weapon. It would be likely to come in handy as they worked to clear the relatively flat terrain of central Florida.

Last he collected enough of the Polish and Soviet gear that he looked like a moving pile of guns and rolled the load and himself into the back of the chopper.

Once on the chopper he stripped out of his lbe gear, armor, and jacket to get a good look at the wound in his side.

"So...who got the best scar?"

Once the Spetsnaz was conscious Roger asked him his name and unit in Russian.

Then, just for a lark, he asked the guy if he could speak English.

He didn't say anything about it but chuckled to himself that they had lost two men trying to abduct a man who had showed up at random, out of nowhere, and who had no idea at all regarding what their mission had been. He figured being a soldier must be pretty similar in all armies because that sure as hell sounded like something that would happen to him.