Natalie swept, firing into the distance at the shadow, as did the other Juggernauts, but it didn't come to any avail. Cursing, Natalie kept watching, keeping as close as she could to the other two, before realising the movement of the shadow was close. The .50 smashed holes in the masonry, firing at the rock as Zara moved, swept and moved around. And even Natalie, firing less rounds, could tell that.
"Stop." She said, as she hunkered back. The shadow moved closer, as Jenny turned.

Jenny saw it coming, and by what must have been a miracle, had the cat like reflex to make sure that when Zara didn't drop the Scimitar down on her exposed head, the one that Zara had managed to crack open her helm on in doing so, smashing it off her head clean and throwing her down onto the floor. Any inch to the side, she'd have had it deep in her neck, past the neckbrace and top of the chestplate. She cursed, as she fired, Natalie swinging the sword broadly, firing into the shadow.
"Shit!" Jenny yelled, as she hyperventilated, her LMG back in her hands again, as Ross turned.

"Are you alright?" The response was met with a mere nod, as she held close to Natalie, visibly shivering. Yet the Russian woman knew that they were not going, and that Zara must have been getting desperate.
"She's getting tired. That was desperate. Hold." She added, sliding a new .50 cal mag into the Deagle, looking around.
"Okay, whatever we do, don't make too much noise, anticipate where she can go."

Carl scanned slowly to the right, his backscatter xray pulsing as it sought out even the smallest bit of Zara. He slowly scanned with just his head, not wanting to move and cause any background noise that might mask the approach of the sword wielding almost ninja like woman who has them trapped in this room. He tucked the butt of his LMG up tight into his shoulder, closely watching. He could hear that Jenny was a little freaked out after the attack that nearly got her. But there was just too many things to worry about right now. She'd be fine for now. He breathed out quietly into his radio, "Nothing on the scanner. Either she's just outside my scan distance, or she isn't being picked up."

Victor scanned the room as well, his light cannon blazing away any shadows he looked at. He kept his shotguns raises but didn't sweep the room, instead just keeping them prepared. He murmured softly, "Where are you...you're good...very good, but not spectacular...you don't know what to do, do you?" He turned his visor mode over to thermal seeing movement and turning his body to face it. A shred of red, within a mass of blue. Robes...a mask over a face...and a section of face. His light highlighted the woman who had been hiding against a pillar. Like a dear in a headlight. She started to move, unnaturally fast. Victor pulled the triggers, hollering, "There!" Carl turned seeing the movement and opened fire as well. his own rounds leaving impact craters on the pillar and floor as he hard tracked on Zara's motion.

Zara for her part darted off trying to get out of that stream of bright light, but the giant who used it is steady aim with that light. Tracking her close. She darted quickly behind another pillar getting her some cover. But those two that were firing on her had he pinned, bracketing her in. Victor looked to Natalie, motioning for her and the others to move up and around while Carl and he kept Zara pinned. There would be no way Zara could move without getting picked off by either of the two firing on her. And the others could move and get into a position too take her out.

Moving around, Natalie lay down a few rounds into that area, the light almost burning away darkness, it was ridiculously bright and Zara was like a rabbit in the headlights. Pinning her in with the light and a lot of firepower, Natalie knew it was her time to move. Nodding to Ross, he laid down heavy fire off to the only other exit she had, as the large Russian prepared to do what she had to do next.

The pin that Carl and Victor was enough for Natalie to rush forward, in a haze of red, bloody mist. Zara was pinned down by Ross, who was not expecting Natalie to come around, even despite the noise, it seemed to blanket the sheer weight Natalie carried. The sword in hand, she twisted it in her, spinning it around. Zara was fast, but couldn't even see this coming. With a subtle touch, she pushed it into Zara's abdomen, with a distinctive stab, the enormous blade impaling the smaller girl onto it, as Natalie screamed, pushing it almost upwards, kebabing her into a rock. Ross and the others looked on in horror, as the blade came out, leaving a sizable hole in Zara's abdomen, as Natalie tutted.
"No, you are an enormous inconvenience. A bullet is too kind. Live by the sword, die by the sword....enjoy hell." With it, Natalie gently rested her foot on Zara's leg, watching her hands if she had any grenades or bomb attached to her, the scimitar-wielding girl screaming out as Natalie swung the sword high.
"ARRGH!" With it, Natalie slammed the blade not like she had before, not slashing, but like a blunt object, and even Zara couldn't wriggle her leg, half the bone had been crushed asunder by Natalie's feet putting pressure on it, and try as she might, she had a fucking hole in her. Natalie was doing something she didn't often do, letting her anger rule her. This was merely a finishing. And what a finish it was. The blade practically blew Zara's head into two, it split it long-ways, splatting blood and brain everywhere, as the blade practically hacked entirely through, sticking out as Natalie withdrew it. She gently ran it along her neck, and decapitated her, not that she wasn't dead enough, but somehow, it relieved her entirely. Dropping the sharpened blade, she turned around.

"Saves us paperwork if we don't have to PID this mess. She's using thermally neutral and shadow-reducing gear. That isn't just witchcraft...it's advanced gear. Someone like that really doesn't want to play fair. The report will read that she got hit by some shrapnel and it took her head off. Are we understood?" Natalie looked to the rest, all apart from Victor,

Ross and Jenny naturally, looked on horrified. They didn't actually have words to describe what the fuck had just happened.

"That...."

"Don't." Natalie simply replied, shrugging, as she looked over at the group, sighing.

"They have a network of guardians, or at least, a select group of operators that have something on us. I don't particularly enjoy almost getting killed." Natalie simply said, her voice harsh, as she looked across at the rest of the group, then at Ross again.
"What's the plan?"

"We're done here. We need an EOD team in here, and to sweep the rest of this place out. It's like a trove of some kind. Crazy."

Carl didn’t lower his weapon immediately. He started to sweep the room instead carefully checking for any other surprises the now dead woman lying to one side of the room may have left behind. He didn’t find any surprises. So he came back around to check on Natalie standing over the body. He stood back and off to the side, ready to duck if the dead woman really did have any tricks left.

Zara had known that she was going to die here. She wasn’t going to get out alive. Maimed perhaps at the least, but death had been the highest option. But she seemed to have some amount of honor. As there was nothing in her hands, save for a small locket, with the face of a tattooed and ritually scarred woman in it. Her thumb pressed lovingly to the picture, which now stained with blood. Carl hummed, “Elite operators…and here we are a huge group of brute force grunts pretty much. Go brute force.” Victor and he spun almost as one as a section of the wall caved in on the other side of the room. The section of fiberglass reinforcing falling inwards and slamming to the ground with a crash. Dust and smoke wafting out from the hole. And a second later a hand coming out of the dust, “Okay easy! Easy!” One of the BlueSword mercs stepping out, his dark armor powdered with dust, “Sorry it took so long sirs and madams. We had to run back to the surface and get a demo team down here. Along with a medical team just in case.”

Victor lowered his shotguns letting out a slow almost tired breath, “Well…we have learned a fair deal here haven’t we?” Carl groaned and looked over at the corpse of the woman. Then around the room, “There is still a lot more to this place. We gonna leave it to the task force?” He slumped down, the adrenaline of the moment finally starting to ease, he looked up at Victor, Natalie and Ross, “What’s the plan bosses? We could probably finish a sweep, or get out of here and leave it to the Task Force outside. Make like a tree and leave before the rest of the group gets here.” He liked that idea personally. Victor looked to his fiancée and Ross, “Shall we get out of here then? We’ve done our share. The General is likely on his way, we return to base, and wait for Debrief. I think our part of this is over yes?” He nodded to his compatriots. He signalled to the Mercs, “Start clean up. And clear the way for the task force. We’ll leave it to them. And the rest of us will head out. I imagine the group that is at the bottom of the mountain is likely to start making their way in when word comes we’ve cleaned out the worst of the group. The rest that have escaped and the last fighters will be taken care of.” The mercs declared they understood and began to move deeper into the mountain, another tunnel into the room having been concealed up until now. Victor groaned, “Let’s go. But watch your step anyway. May still be some problems left behind.” He headed for the hole that the mercs and Task force EOD and Medic team had made, and began to try and squeeze through it. Carl motioned he’d cover the rear, and waited for the rest to proceed.

As the others squeezed out of the hole Carl looked over at the body of Zara, and did the thing no one else wanted to. He took out an incendiary grenade, wrapped Zara’s hands around it then pulled the pin, the grenade began to burn. Carl didn’t wait around to watch the body burn. He followed the others out of the tunnel.

Later back at FOB Grimsby

Victor, Natalie, Ross, Jenny and Carl all sat in the arsenal building set aside for them. Carl laid out across a bench, breathing slow and easy, coming down from the combat high. He’d half stripped out of his armor, laying with his chest plate and boots still on, his leg and arm armor on the rack already, his helmet resting just within reach of his left hand. Victor sat with his back against a wall, within arms reach of Natalie but giving her room as well. All he had off is his helmet which laid in his lap. It’d been a long long day. And the sun was finally falling just outside the hanger.

No one looked up as another body joined them in the hanger. General Lawrence looking over the five Juggernauts. Watching them quietly. Carl barely moved when he caught sight of the General, just letting out a grunt to catch Ross’s attention. Felix raised a hand, “Just as you were…it’s been a long day ladies and gentlemen, a really long day. You earned your rest. We dealt a huge blow to these guys. We even caught a small group of their central command. Trying to bolt from a cave at the base of the mountain. Most of their fighters are holed up inside the mountain and the task force will root them out. For now Wakhan and this group are silenced. You guys chill out for abit. Job well done..” He nodded slowly, “I’ll leave you guys to it.” He gave the five in the room a salute, then turned and walked out.

Carl let out a groan and let his head fall back, “Fantastic…” Was all he got out, far too tired to say much more.

Natalie had the same as Victor, her helm off, their faces visible, the facepaint that Natalie had applied completely melted off at this point, the lightly applied dark blue and pale white lightening beginning to fade entirely. She nodded upon hearing the news, her blonde hair shortened and the remainder tied up, looking across to the General. Ross had taken the bulk of his armour of, similarly to Carl.
"Understood. Thanks, General." He didn't even need to salute, as the General left, Jenny looking across to Natalie, with a nod of her own, of appreciation.

"Gotta say, Bear. You two saved our asses. And I didn't realise how good you looked, under that futuristic helmet of yours. Wasn't expecting it." Jenny said, Natalie giggling a little with laughter.
"Thanks. I'd take the compliment but I'm afraid that Brute here would have to tear off your limbs while you watched. Tends to be...well, protective of his Mama Bear, as do I. Eh, either way. You all held yourselves well out there." Natalie commented, feeling lighter without the minigun, though her armour definitely felt like it'd been used well.

"But there's more of the bastards. I know this is gonna be a difficult fight. We are just going to have to keep killing them. What we saw out there, if it got leaked, any of the tech or capabilities, puts everything at risk.....especially the fucking media. Jesus, it's the last thing we need. Technically, you don't actually know our names. Official or otherwise. All you really know is we are that antidote. But if they figure that out before they're all dead, this fight gets a lot tougher." Natalie added, the command clear in her voice.

"Still. Get some rest. Brute, we need to leave the AO in a few hours, head back to the quarters to pack up the gear. PMC wants a debrief too. You in?"

-------------

Two Days Later
Somewhere in southern Kosovo
1900 Hours

In the hilly, tree-lined backwaters of Kosovo, beyond the crap roads and infrastructure, lay Markus, the German KSK operative leaning against a pine tree, the sunsetting horizon cutting through the pine forest, a river below in this remote area. It was peaceful, birdsong could be heard, as he looked over to his collegue, the Canadian JTF2 soldier, Eric, decked out in the same semi-Juggernaut armour that he had, improving in quality by the day, thanks to the provision of a few new quirks and trims that seemed to be ironing out. Markus held a MG36, the uncommon variant on a G36 in his hand, complete with a 100 round dual Beta-C drum mag, and a Aimpoint CompM4 optic on the top, with a foregrip attached for good measure. On his back, he had his usual Bofors AT4, and apart from that, was travelling light on gear. His helmet off, a pair of Wiley X sunglasses on, and looking over at the distant hills in the horizon, then to the far distance, at what could barely be seen through the trees.

They'd been dropped off at least two hours ago on a rural track, with their target being an old lumber mill by the smallish river, the lumber mill deforesting the other side of the hills, this side still relatively intact. Whilst Kosovo was now civil, and no longer existed in a state of war as it had more than a decade ago, it was a little bit of a wild-west. That made it good to hide, or lay something low in. And that was what was suspected at the lumber mill. The trans-national network that was involved in supporting the shady organisation involved in Afghanistan had an intel cache here, and well, it just so happened that Erik and Markus were in theatre. Wet work again, given that it was lightly guarded, and well, it made sense not to go batshit insane with noise. The plan was simple. Head in, recover intel, destroy the place, and any potential HVTs. This was a potential hiding place for the organisation- and if it wanted someone to lay low, this would be the place to do it. Markus kept that in mind, sliding the drum mag back in, cocking the MG36, looking across at Eric.

"Hmm, no patrols their perimeter, and guard presence is low. 20, 30 with Kalashnikovs and they seem extra cheeki breeki. They're badly armed, and retarded. That isn't a deception either. They want a low profile. Makes them look native. Which...smells a bit weird. But we shall see." Markus said, the German rather descriptive, to the point even, as he moved forward, looking at a Land Rover roll in, parking up as the men got out, just looking like they had groceries, or something.
"Lumber Mill's big, but there actually isn't a lot of them. My bet puts intel in that main building, where most of their transports are. Rest of it is probably unoccupied, vacant." Markus added, walking on, going from tree to tree, in a slow walk, keeping his eye on the mill at the bottom of the hill , waiting on a response.
"Got any plan?"

Eric had about half his semi-juggernaut armor painted in partial CUEPAT or Canadian Urban Environment Camo Pattern. It was good enough in the situation they are in. His partner had a weapon that shit bullets. Eric had come in with something a little more precise and robust as it were. A C7CT rifle, long barrel, with an Aimpoint CompM4 reflex sight and a 2.5x scope that he can flip off to the side for slightly longer engagements. He is looking through the flipped up scope and down into the mill yard as his partner speaks, "Ideas? Getting a few." He taps his finger on the side of his rifle. Slowly lowering it. He gets down beside his friend and partner, "I see 3 easy paths and 2 tough ones. Easy path one, through the forest down through the water, and up the side of the bank, make our way through the mill workings. Easy Path two, we take the back flank, from this angle I can't tell but it looks like there is a pair that pass the rear area on a lazy patrol. We can dart through when they aren't near and be inside. Easy path three is right through the front, between the two of us we can have the guards there taken out quick and clean, no muss little fuss." He nods, "If you wanna get dirty. There are two other ways."

Eric took a moment to move abit getting on the other side of his partner, "Alright check this out. 1100, low near the water line. See it? A drainage pipe. Probably sewage but if you want to get dirty it likely leads into the compound. Has to be a maintenance tunnel in there somewhere that we can squeeze out of. Second dirty path in. Alright back up 0200." He pointed. "See the ridge up there? We have repel lines don't we? There is almost no cover up there. But we can get up repel down and be right next to the fence in. Cut the fence, make our way in. There's a massive chance of a fire fight though. So it all depends on just how daring you feel." He hiked his rifle up again, eyeing the compound below through the scope again, "I'd foot for one of the easier routes. Through the rear or, through the water and over the fence. A frontal assault would be interesting. But we don't know how many others are down there you know?" He lowered the rifle carefully, looking to Markus, "What do you say? Safe or daring?"

Markus only nodded, adjusting the cover on the Aimpoint, looking across at all those routes.
"All the direct routes are not going to be fun. Water is interesting....and if we get caught out there we're even more screwed. At a disadvantage. Either way, we have to deal with our recovery. Which isn't fun. We are a quiet presence, with a bit more skin than a usual SF outfit." Markus reminded Eric, as he looked at that ridge again, whistling quietly.

"Though that ridge gives us a overlook. And that pipe gives us an in. I suggest we try and split it up, use those two to our advantage. You set up on the ridge a rope and a rifle, using whatever you can for cover. I'll get into the pipe...it'll be messy, but puts me out . It might be dirty. But if done properly...we'll turn the place into a storm." Markus added, as he adjusted his position, clutching the MG36 tight, as he led the way, sliding the helmet down, leading the way slowly, sweeping the area.

"I see a route on the flank for you. I'll head for the pipe."

---------

Five minutes later, and Markus had waded through a small amount of shit, the small pipe lucky to be low in water, but it smelled like a fucking hellscape. Algal mats, and raw crap, it was incredible how fucking bad it was, and he was not a happy bunny, knee-deep as he sifted through the pipe, though it was right beneath the logging mill.
"I'm almost in position, Eric. I've got an end to the Shawshank Redemption...there's a ladder with a manhole. I'm going up. I'll rustle it, can you tell me where I am?" Markus added, stowing the MG onto his back, as he began to climb, pushing up his visor and feeling the urge. He chundered, keeping it as quiet as he could, retching from the smell as he continued up, coughing a little.
"Yeah, this was a better approach...." The KSK operator said to himself, as he moved to the top of the small ladder, rustling the top of the manhole. It was located off-centre to the main part of the mill, and relatively clear, as he knew that Eric had been moving around and into position.

"If I'm where I think I am....I'll move straight in, and start cutting throats. Be ready to open up. We're keeping this loud when we have to. Make sure we take out their main firepower and then the rest should clean itself up."

AND DONE

Eric hummed, "Yeah going full bore right into the middle of them wouldn't be fun you're right. We're not like Nat and Vic. They'd pull that off without a problem." He checked his magazine count, 8 normal magazines, filled with bog standard 5.56 NATO rounds, 20 rounds each, he'd be able to do some damage with that. It's the other 6 magazines that make abit of a difference. He got the knowledge of how to put Wildcats together from a CSOR soldier some time ago. Just a pinch more propellant, and a squeezed out neck on the part that holds the bullet, and you had a shot that would punch huge holes in material and people. He nodded, "Okay. I think we can do that. Gonna take me abit to pick my way around the perimeter and make my way across open ground up there. But I think I can do it. You get down there. I'll start working my way." He gave his friend and partner a thump on the shoulder. "Move careful." He then broke from position and started his own way across.

-----------------

He grunted, scrambling through brambles and over rocks. He sighed, mumbling into his mic, "Shit's pretty bad...All I have to deal with is lots of rocks, thorns and the risk of spraining maybe breaking my ankle up here." He swore in French suddenly as he slipped and slammed his chest on a rock, "Ah....merde" He coughed for abit over the mic before he got moving again, "Goddamn it...that hurt. I'm almost to my position. Give your hole cover there a few rattles every few seconds. Once I'm in position I'll let you know what I can see.

-----------------

A little while later Eric looked out from the hide he had built himself on the edge of the ridge. Some rocks to provide cover, and some branches and vegetation to provide concealment. He settled his rifle up on a tall rock he'd placed in front of him, not only would it provide solid cover but the top of it had a slide dip that would allow him to rest the rifle there and not have to worry about his arm going out. He nodded slowly, "Okay...give that lid of yours a shake..." He looked down through his scope, watching scanning, and spotting the shaking lid. He pulled his eye off the scope and looked around, "okay you're off center, near the middle building. No one near you right now. But there is a guy patrolling to the south, if you wait 10 seconds he'll be back behind some stacked barrels and he won't see you. Count...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...go." He leveled his rifle waiting and watching to make sure his partners gets up and out safely.

On his call, Markus pushed out, holding the manhole cover as he peeked with the MG36 in one hand, just about able to hold it as he swept around, moving up again as he stashed the same lid back over the hole, then taking cover by the barrels.
"Excellent. I'm gonna move around. Let's keep it quiet for now." Markus added, moving around the barrels, stashing the MG36 onto his back, sliding a Sig Sauer P226 from a holster on his thigh, as well as a suppressor. Turning it in the screw, he peeked the corner as best as he could, knowing this wasn't his forte.

"Moving inside." Markus added, as he pushed around into the vehicle pool, taking cover by another Land Rover. He popped his visor, peeking the view, knowing he had to tread very carefully.
"I got eyes on about four hostiles, inside. AKs again. I'll see how many I can snag. Keep a view on the outside, see what changes." With that, Markus pushed around the vehicle, waiting, watching as a man headed to one of the Land Rovers, to the back to pick something up. Markus put a bullet between his eyes, as he moved quick, the suit rustling a little as he dragged the body under, picking out his two friends. With a repeated set of shots, he dropped those two, firing fast and true, the Sig's action and accuracy making him confident. The fourth man picked up his gun, and ran to the middle, about to be in mid-yell, as Markus put another three rounds into him.

"Clear inside. Gonna find out what they have here." Markus added, as he moved past the bodies, towards the front of the building, as he saw the office come close, as he peeked the door. Pushing in, a man pushed him to the wall, and it seemed he had been waiting, watching Markus as he had been moving through. Markus pushed his arm as the machete landed in the drywall, as he kicked out, winding Markus. He pulled the attacker down with him, the pistol firmly in his right hand as he put a bullet into his brain as they came down, sighing.
"Jesus." He pushed the man's body off him, as he stood up, a server at the end of the room, which raised an eyebrow.

"Eric....we got a server in here. Seems secure. This isn't anything I've seen before. It doesn't fit the profile. Looks like it came out of Star Trek." He looked at the sleek black device, kneeling by it's side, looking around for a USB. Finding a spot, he planted a keying shotgun, that would upload the data from the server, as he looked back to the door, and the very dead man on the floor.
"I'm gonna data shotgun the thing. Should take about five minutes. Whatever it is, this has to have some intel on it." The German added, as he looked around at the desk, seeing nothing massive of worth. A map of the area, vantage points, but it was regional. The only thing that was of worth here was that server. It didn't fit the profile. This wasn't a little insergent base. This was a big deal.

"Got any contacts around?"

Eric tracked his partner for as long as he could, keeping his gun planted and ready to burn anyone who might be in danger of coming across him. He watched Markus's flanks as he reached the motor pool and the door inside. Sweeping the yard beyond, "Careful going in. I'm going to lose overwatch on you once you're inside." He jerked his rifle around, when the first man came out, his reticle right over the mans forehead, it would have been brutal if he had to take that shot, but Markus had it covered. He swiveled back around to cover the outer area. listening to his partner work, "Good job brother." He blinked when he heard the grunt and again swung his gun back around, centering over where he thought Markus would be in the building, a lone window the only thing he could see through and that didn't give him a good shot. But soon, he heard Markus speak, "Stay steady Markus. Careful in there."

As he swung his rifle about he listened to what Markus had to say, "Gotcha I got the outside covered."

As he said that something caught his eye. It looked like a truck, or a jeep maybe. Approaching from the rear entrance road. And driving fast, "Asking about contacts. I got on. Unknown approaching the rear gate. And moving fast." He settled his rifle in, and looked down the scope, "Can't see the driver, front window is tinted." He pulled his eye away from the scope to watch three of the yard guards running to the rear, "I don't think this arrival was expected. There are three guards scrambling for the rear entrance. Our two roamers who were back there and another from the back yard there." He zoomed in on one of the guards who was waving his free arm, that AK clutched to his chest, "They're trying to wave him down." He watched another two guards running to the back entrance, "Five at the back gate now. Four up front from what I can see." He hummed softly, "Keep the hack going. No one seems all that interested in your location right now."

He focused on the five guards in the rear. The jeep or truck still had a ways to go but it was approaching fast. They appeared to be arguing about what to do, "The guards in the rear there are starting to loose their shit. If you hear gunfire it's likely going to be warning shots on that vehicle." Almost as he said that one of the rear guards shouldered his AK, and unleashed a fifteen round warning burst on the jeep. Followed by a second fifteen round burst. This time the jeep responded, rolling to a stop, and sitting there idling just about 100 yards out from the mill. Eric watched, eye away from scope so he didn't miss too much, "What...is the deal here...?" He checked the rest of the yard, "Stand off in the rear section here. How are you doing in there man?" He checked the front of the yard, "All the visible guards are at the gates right now. No one is making moves towards your location. I don't see anyone else scrambling to guard your building. I think you're green for a little longer." He focused in on the jeep again, the windows are tinted, but he could vaguely make out movement inside, maybe 2 or 3 people shuffling about. "I don't know what's going on out here man. You okay in there?"

"Understood. Jesus, we can't make this one clean then. Keep watching. I'll take a vantage." Markus replied, as he cursed, keeping his head down. He knew that whatever the hell it was, it couldn't have boded well, as he headed to the door, the noise of guards running outside and past the hidden bodies, visible, the door open enough for Markus to see the distant commotion himself.

"There's a lot of them going over there. Whatever is making an entrance, we're not going to have fun with." Markus watched the USB at work, watching it's progress, as the screen flickered occasionally, the drive tapping the encryption and firing out data where it had to.
"We're 90 seconds away." He added, the tension building with the gunshots, the jeep still still in the courtyard. The men approached it, as the doors opened on the lightly protected truck, revealing a number of heavily-armoured soldiers, and one behind them, an unarmed officer of some kind. Whatever uniform he had, it didn't look right. A long-sleeve shirt and a black beret, the man looked perhaps like he was in his forties. One of the men ran to him, AK raised, as he chuckled in his face. Markus couldn't make it out, but there was a conversation of some kind. In a foreign language, and it didn't seem right. The two armoured soldiers were brutes, standing at least at 6"2, and wearing ballistic protection, and a heck of a lot of it. They weren't going to get taken down, not easily, wielding LMGs of their own.

"They know each other, whatever it is. Doesn't add up. What the hell are they doing..." He watched on, as he heard the argument intensify.
"What the hell.....oh fuck. Eric...." The singular buzz of the USB was enough as Markus ran over, snatching it out, as he looked on. The men cocked their LMGs, standing in front of the officer, pushing the lead militant to the ground, the other pointing it at the other. This had just escalated another notch, as the officer turned away and walked slowly back to the truck, the two armoured soldiers coming to the fore. They weren't turning away, or leaving. They were staying.
"This is a cleanup.....they know the site was compromised before we even were sent here." Markus coldly said, as he watched what happened next, with horror.

The noise of the M249 SAWs that the gunners used barked on the officer's command, as the men at the gate were filled with lead, Markus himself running out into the rest of the building, knowing this was not a fair fight. Those fuckers had more armour than himself and Eric would, and no doubt, a fight against them wouldn't be fun. The other militants firing on at them found that out the hard way, because they weren't being stopped by AK rounds, as it pelted off their armour.
"Shit! Eric, get out of that vantage point and get down to the road! I'm going to commandeer something....just stay the fuck out of the way of those guys with armour, they'll tear us apart!" He yelled over comms, as he ran out of the office, heading into the mill itself, the noise of gunfire echoing inside the timber framed building. Finding a Land Rover, the keys still in and some crates of weapons in the back, he ran over and dived into the open door and took a seat, starting the engine.

Hitting the clutch and first, he slammed it out of the building through the only exit, fully aware his MG36 hadn't even let a shot loose today, nor had Eric's rifle. Sometimes those were the days, and sometimes, that had to be dealt with. The truck had left, the same way it had came, and the two armoured soldiers were sweeping the rest of the lumber mill, not exactly stopped by any small arms. They were hunting everyone down. Markus had no intent to stay, as he heard rounds pelt the vehicle, some slamming through the door and into his armour. He cursed, as he felt the engine struggle against how much he needed it right now, but it held true, as he drove out of the sawmill, in pursuit of the leaving jeep.
"I've got one of their Land Rovers, heading east out of the compound, your side! Truck's 200m ahead, they know I'm here...I have a funny feeling this asshole might have more answers than our data retrieval."

Eric narrowed his eyes as the heavies stepped out of the jeep, "That explains why the jeep was riding so low. Both of those guys have to be atleast 400 pounds a piece. Armor and weapons all together." He focused in on the one with the beret, reached into a pocket and pulled a digital camera. Setting it ot the eyepiece of his rifle, clicked a zoomed picture of him, before pulling the camera up and quickly snapping a dozen or so pictures without the rifle scope. Click click click, again and again, "I've got visual evidence. What the hell is the deal here I wonder." he flicked his rifle from target to target watching and listening to Markus' commentary.

He narrowed his eyes, "They know each other. Another branch? Militia?" Before he could say more Beret got back into the Jeep. He settled his scope over the man and the jeep, "I could take him if..." He didn't finish the sentence. The bruisers stepped forward, leveled their guns and began to fire. For a brief moment he lost his trigger discipline. His finger hooked down and around the trigger, atleast for a brief moment. He could have pulled, the round could have sung out, and dropped one of those tanks. Driven right through the visor of the man. But before he could apply pressure he gets a hold of himself and jumped to his feet, shedding his camo. He pulled the small single use piton gun off his belt, slotting one of three pitons he has on him into place, sets the barrel of the gun against the stone, and fires. He takes a moment or two, too lace his rope up to it. He loops the rope through a caribineer on his hip, then tosses the rope out. Folliwng it over a second, briefly free falling before the rope and caribineer caught his descent. With a woof he came to a stop 3 feet above the ground, groaning as it felt like he'd pulled a muscle with that stunt, "fuck...I'm one the ground. Get over here!"

He cut the rope with his knife, then limp ran to the road just as Markus pulled up. He ripped the back passenger door open, and jumped inside, pulling the door closed behind him, "Go! Don't lose him!" He got his armored form up right and rolls down the window, looking out back, "Looks like the two big guys are looking for rovers of their own, we have sometime yet." he leaned out the window, a tight fit in his armor, "Get me a line on him! I'll try and take his tires. And hopefully we can extract before the two big guys get in range." He brought his rifle up, sighting through the scope, tryng to draw a bead on the jeep ahead of them, "Come on now."

"I don't fucking know, but you best be ready!" Markus wasn't very clear, as he saw the armoured vehicle pull away, shaking his head.
"Armoured tyres, so you're gonna need to punch your hitters into it. Deform the rubber and it'll stop." Markus was cold but focussed, as they drove down the dirt track, hitting a few bumps, hard. He couldn't fire, but knew that Markus would be able to poke his head out of the window, as he kept on the throttle, throwing another gear as he knew he was going far quicker than was comfortable on these roads.

"I'm going to get us close, take a pop at him!" The German yelled, as he felt the Land Rover roar a little as he edged closer, the sudden braking of the armoured vehicle ahead making them nudge it, the impact hard as they backed down.
"Fuck!" With it, Markus shifted down and accelerated hard again, keeping them in range, allowing Eric to take at least a few solid shots to stop the vehicle.

Eric had to try just to make sure. He waited for a second, drawing a bead, and squeezed the trigger, thrice. Bang bang bang. The rounds lanced over, down and cut into but didn't puncture the tires. He cursed, "Fuck...had to try." He lowered the rifle, cleared the chamber, sloting the loose round into a pouch then pulled out another magazine. This one was something he picked up from a JTF2 sergeant major some time ago. The old man had been a whiz with all things gunpowder. And he had taught Eric an interesting little trick. These rounds were wildcats, specially made and tooled. The Sergeant Major called them Heavy Hitters. he'd used them before. Alot of times. These things left foot wide craters when they hit concrete or stone. He slotted the new magazine into his rifle. The magazine had a nice image stenciled onto it. The maple leaf, with a face painted onto it, sunglasses over the eyes, and sneering smile and a cigar out of the corner of the mouth, bad ass Canada for you.

He growled then lurched, "Fuck Markus! Miss a bump or ten!" He sighted in again, "okay...keep us steady! I got this." He waited finger tensed on the trigger. It was almost the perfect moment. It was perfect. Perfectly so. He squeezed, once, twice, thrice, four times. And the rounds lanced out. The first one skipped off and punched a 4 inch hole in the back fender of the jeep, the next two rounds kicked into the back right tire. Shredding it. The last round did the impossible it hit the front right tire and blew it out as well. One hell of a lucky shot. He shoved his rifle back into the car and drew his USP off his chest, "Fucker needs to turn! He needs to hit those wheels." He started firing rounds at the jeep trying to get him to dodge.

And again there was another perfect moment. One of his pistol rounds punched through the back window, and blew out the rear view mirror. Bang! The driver swerved and that's how the jeep hit those shredded tires. And turned over hard, onto it's side and began to slide. Eric slammed his hand down on the top of the car, cackling, "Yeah! That's how we do it!" He slide into the car, "Get up there man!"

Markus let him take pot shots, trying not to hit the ruts, as he knew that Eric was bringing out the hard-hitting rounds, knocking the tyre out completely. Sticking close, he backed off a little, as he drew his own silenced P226 and fired it out the window, this being potentially the most gangsta he had felt in...well, ever. It wasn't accurate, but it was fire for the sake of it, to remind the officer he was being shot at, and whilst inaccurate, it panged the metal a few times. That was till Markus got the shot well, and took the tyre, the truck suddenly coming to a violent stop as it flipped. Slamming the brakes on, he stopped by it's side, blocking the road, as he opened the driver side door and moved to the rear of the truck.

"Hands on your head, drop any weapons!" Markus yelled, as he smashed the rear window in, the driver pulling out a Makarov pistol nonetheless, as that meant he only could do one thing. Markus put a P226 bullet in his head, as he pointed at the commander, letting Eric clamber up and open the door.
"You don't know what you're doing...." The commander said, as Markus shook his head, looking in, letting Eric pull him out.
"Command, we're breaking comms. We got a potential HVT here, and we've acquired enemy transport. Data is secure. What's our exfil?" Markus added, as he got his response quick.

"Understood, Osprey. Can you make it to Point Pembroke?" The response was clear, as Markus nodded, adjusting the GPS setting on his arm, flicking the waypoint.
"We can do that. Standby." Markus added, as he looked at the officer, then at Eric.
"Hold him. I'm gonna get some zip ties." Markus added, as the officer spat, restrained.
"Stupid fuckers...my men will come for you. They'll tear you in two. You hear!" The man spoke, his accent coming across as an Arabic one but not strong.

Markus threw on the zip tie around his hands, chuckling.
"I'm sure they will, when they're stuck in a compound killing your allies." He said, looking to Eric, taking the officer by the hand and dragging him, hurling him in the back of the Land Rover, as he tied him to the car's frame with a rope. Just to secure him, after all, he wasn't exactly sitting in the back.
"We need to get moving." He added, as he moved back to the car, clambering in as he took the wheel again, hitting first and knowing they had to get out of there.

Hitting the gas, the Land Rover pulled away, the fact that there was a lot of heat around this area still on Markus's mind, as he knew Eric would have to be ready if shit did hit the fan.

The jeep flipped, sliding coming to a stop on the road. As soon as it did Markus pulled the land rover up beside it. He pulled himself out of the car, his USP tucked up close to his chest, aimed down so as to reduce the chance of a misfire. He waited for the back to be opened and ducked away as the driver pulled a Makarov. Markus' round took him in the head. Eric grinned, then clambered in, cutting the commanders belt with his knife then dragged the man out. He tossed the man face first out on the road, He slammed his boot down on the mans back, kneeling down and pressing his USP's barrel to the back of his head, "Yeah yeah, you're a powerful man, have a number of men at your command, but at the moment the biggest worry is the two back in the base, who are quite busy, and your driver is starting to cool already. So it's just you." Markus brough out some zipties, around the wrists, secured as they are going to get him.

he helped pull the man to his feet. And was none to gentle as they tossed him into the back. Eric may have gone out of his way to slam the man's head against the door frame before shoving him inside. Once secured he got in with him in the back. Grabbing his rifle, checking that he had a round chambered. As they started to roll the HVT made a move, and Eric headbutted him right above the bridge of the nose, "Oh no, you don't get to do something stupid like that. you get two strikes, try one more time and I'll put you down again, after that I don't mind putting a bullet somewhere that will make you think hard."

They started to roll Markus turned in the back seat to look out the back window, "Let's get out of here man." As they sped up he looked down through the scope on his rifle nodding, "Oh yeah looks like clean up back at the outpost is done. There's another big land rover moving way back there." They felt it more then heard it, and saw the smoke as something that let off thick black smoke went off around the bend in the road. He looked at the HVT who was still a little dazed, "Your boys are sloppy." He half crawled into the back of the Land Rover, mounting his rifle on the spare tire in the back, "You drive man, I'll deal with these guys...but...hand me your AR. If things go shit creek we may need something that pissed lead over something that fires like a laser." He reached forward as Markus stuffed the AR back. Taking hold of it and bringing it back to him, "Thanks mate!" He sights back in, then muttered, "Oh fuck it..." He squeezed, his rifle letting out a boom, and a round lanced down the way they came, missing the driver and punching a fist sized hole in the front window of the pursuers truck. The driver in the other truck veering off in surprise, "And now they know we have claws. So try something."

Markus stayed at the wheel, foot to floor, keeping it going.

The Land Rovers in pursuit were aware of the high-velocity round flying at them, and were watching their sectors, with a couple backing off.
"Keep raising hell!" Markus yelled at Eric, as they thundered over a bump, letting Eric dispatch the two Land Rovers on their tail, using his MG36 as he focussed on the road. And it was looking good. They were putting distance between them and their pursuit vehicles behind them, and Eric seemed to be able to at least ward them off, if not entirely kill them.

And that was the moment Markus didn't see it on that tiny dirt track, they were close too. The other armoured vehicle slammed out of the trees, hitting the rear quarter, as the German attempted to countersteer. It wasn't working. They were gonna tip. And with this speed, he already knew to brace.

-------------

Coughing, his vision slowly came back, as he undid the seatbelt, lower down in the forest valley and the distant noise of a stream audible. They had come down into the bottom of the valley, the crash had been significant and they were above a slight drop into the river beneath, he could tell that much...but the Commander was missing.

The two armoured soldiers stood watching, clearly none too pleased, as Markus coughed, clambering for his gun, which had been knocked from the position in the side of the door. One step, another....kick.

He came down to the floor, barely sitting on his knees, as one of the armoured troops hit him hard with the butt of their M249, pulling the damaged helm from his head, looking on as he took Markus's own hands and zip tied them around his back, taking any weaponry out of his vest. It was the same to Eric, as the German looked across at his friend, then back at the two imposing figures in front.
"You can't run forever. You did well to go this far. But not good enough." The accent was muted through the man's helmet, as he looked at his arm, the German flag and the insignia.
"They're private contractors. Fair game for us." The armoured man said to his friend, as he knelt down.

"Do you know who we are?" The man asked, visor still down, accent still muffled.
"You're a fucking piece of shit, I can tell that much! Eric, keep your fucking voice shut!" Markus yelled back, as the armoured figure chuckled, looking across.

"Pieces of shit. Well then. You are feisty." He looked on, their face covered by a balaclava, his armour probably that and above that of what Ross and Carl used, clearly Western with a mixture of Russian features, significant indeed and enough to take a pounding with.

"We are a part of an organisation that is the black mirror to your West. And for this long, you have always had the upper hand. Not any more. You stumbled upon something you really shouldn't have. The damage is limited, you fought a good game. But I think your time has ran out. If you at least had some official presence, we'd have at least been able to sell you to a terror cell that pays top dollar for captured soldiers. But you're a contractor. You, and your friend." He sighed, as he let his M249 hang from a carrying point on his webbing, shaking his head.

"So we have no worth out of you. End of the line, as you would say. Your friend was at least a little more respectful. I think....we'll have fun with him. He can be of use to us in time. But we only need one of you." It didn't sound any less sinister, as he looked across at his friend, the other armoured soldier removing their helm, though she was certainly a lot of uglier now he saw it. Not exactly the last thought he had in his head, as he resisted, pulling downward on the zip tie, nothing.

"Eric, don't fucking give in!" Markus yelled, as the armoured lady chuckled.
"Is that the best you have for last words?" She looked across at his still helmed friend, watching him draw a rather horrible looking knife. Markus bit his tongue, and for a moment, the world stopped, his heartbeat quickened, every single smell, every noise, everything just went visceral, everything came into view, as the man knelt, turning the knife in his hand, before grabbing his head from the back and cutting open his throat, before shoving his lifeless body onto the floor, Markus's world turning from colour to black, from life to death.

The other two dragged the body over the edge, pushing Markus's lifeless corpse over into the ravine and the river, momentarily absent from Eric, who was still tied. Perhaps it would be enough for him to do something, perhaps not.

----------

The commander had been recovered, and was heading up, flanked by a number of other soldiers, well, just about four for now. He clearly was tired, and was angry at them for the lack of security. It was a poor effort, he kept yelling and swearing at them. It was actually a help for someone.

With the sub-sonic plink, the first of the 7.62mm rounds found home in one of the commander's soldiers, the second turning around and looking for the shooter. But she was quick. Magpie was good at what she did, she may have been young, barely 20, but the training she had recieved and work she had undertaken made her capable as a ghost.

The next three were all headshots, like a hunter stalking their prey, before the commander himself, drawing his own pistol, received a bullet in both his kneecaps, falling to the ground in a heap of body. Shooting that even Nolan would have been impressed by, no doubt, as she gently rested her face away from the scope, emerging from the forest floor like she was invisible.

Revealing herself from her ghillie hide, the shooter was clad in a black long-sleeved shirt that tightly clung to her body, a light body armour vest, a beanie and black and dark green facepaint, her gear all in black, her hair tucked in and it's colour lost beneath the hat and the shirt she wore. A Russian-made SVU in her hands, she knew that it had been difficult making the hunt on the motorbike through the forest. Markus and Eric didn't know her, they wouldn't, given she was there in a very different context. She was...well, freelance. Had a set of skills that many senior operatives wouldn't even dream of having. While they had gone in for data recovery, she had wanted this man.

And when they evolved their mission to grab both, she knew that she had to be ready when things went to shit. She understood exactly the enemy they were up against. Magpie was young, yes, but she was a warrior, first and foremost. And while they were close, she had followed this up, fast. Her mission had been very different to begin with, but after watching the events at the camp unfold differently, her usually trigger-free method had changed. Like anything in this line of work, she was aware that she could now strike and that she did, to get this bastard into custody. And after he was in Blue Sword's extraction, she would vanish again. Because that was what Magpies did. They stole very high value things, and weren't really seen.

Walking up she grabbed the comander's plate carrier.
"You don't get off that easy. Now shut the fuck up." Her accent was distinctly Norwegian, distinctly thick, as she felt him scream out, her strength able to drag him to the the armoured vehicle that was intended for his pickup. Leaving him in, she ran towards the cliffside, seeing one of the armoured soldiers running up. She didn't want to stay, but took pity on the two mercenaries who had gotten themselves in a very deep pit of shit. And one less of them would help. It was just so convenient that one of them had decided it was a non-helmet wearing day. Silly bitch. All that armour...yet Magpie didn't need to even readjust her sight for the movement and distance. She dropped a knee, and shot once. With it, the ugly armoured woman was on the floor, with a large Russian 7.62mm round in her head. And their friend was firing up the hill. A good moment to get the fuck out, running back to the armoured vehicle and past the berm, leaving her dead corpse and their friend who was rather angry behind.

With that, she clambered in and drove off, and in a funny taste of irony, the armoured soldier had been left behind again, as she felt the gearbox clunk in and the road ahead, now empty of any hostiles, clear for her route back. The armoured soldier at the bottom of the hill ran up, without Eric, still distracted from the scene unfolding, only half keeping an eye on him.

Eric kept on firing through the back window, trying to hit the driver of the approaching truck. The ruts in the road and the swerving both trucks are doing didn't give him very good shots though. He growled, and to vent a little anger he kicked the man they had in the back of the head. He then drew another bead and tried to land a few more hits.

unlike his partner Eric wasn't belted in. He was free and loose. The truck that came barreling out of the trees hit the back end. And Eric felt himself lift off the floor of the back of the truck. He slammed into the cieling of the truck, then came down hard. He realized they are rolling, something had hit them and sent them flying. He felt his head slam against the floor and he blacked out.

He came too, when he was wrenched out of the truck and thrown to the ground. The world buzzed and keened. It took him awhile to realize was was going on. slowly he started to hear voices. People talking, someone yelling. It took him a moment or two for the daze to clear enough for him to recognize first the voice of Markus. He tried to open his eyes, and felt pain, he didn't know it at the time but during the roll his goggles had been ripped off, and a shard of glass had ripped open his eye. His left eye bled and sat useless now. But his right opened, bruised and bloodshot. He sighed, everything is blurry, "Markus.....I can't see man...I can't see...what's going on?" He heard the voice again, the commander it sounded like, "Markus? What's going on?" he felt someone grab him by the back of the head, and then he felt someone kick him in the spine. He hissed in pain, and fell forward. He growled, "Markus!? What the fuck is going?" His vision came back. In time to watch the soldier stab Markus. His world focused in and he got one last look right before Markus was tossed off the cliff.

Everything came into sharp focus. The pain in his head faded. As the soldiers chuckled over it they turned to look at Eric. One looked up the hill and started to climb. The other pulled out a taser and started to make his way over to Eric. He looked up, suddenly too, and Eric made his move. He didn't hear the first soldier drop. He was far to busy. He planted his boot into the soliders knee. The interesting thing about armoring. Is it's designed to stop bullets. But it was still supple, and could bend. Eric slammed the sole of his boot into the man's knee and felt it move then break. As the man screamed in pain Eric spun and kicked again,the sole of his boot again slamming into the man's face plate. And he felt nose, cheekbones and upper jaw shatter. The man dropped quickly. And eric lifted his foot again, and stomped once...twice...thrice...four time...five time...six...seven...until nothing. The man's head a pulped mess only kept in shape by mask, helmet and balaclava.

eric looked around as bet he could, then pulled his boot knife, cutting his bindings, then grabbed for his radio, "Break break break, Command this is Osprey Two Actual, Break for Osprey Two Actual!" A split second later he got a return, "Go for Osprey Two Actual." Eric growled as the pain started to return, "Command, Eric, Osprey two...Osprey One is KIA...Allies of mark attacked us...Markus is down...get a QRF here ASAP! Osprey two is wounded, can't get out on my own. Position is..." He rattled off their position, "Get a QRF evac team here now!" He groaned and limped to the cliff, looking over, the return sounded like, "Roger Osprey Two, QRF is in the air. Find cover and await extract."

When the QRF came in they found Eric had crawled down the cliff to retrieve Markus' body which had landed on a ledge. As the chopper came down and the soldiers jumped out, they found Eric leaning over Markus' body. He panted, "Get us out of here...before anyone else comes looking..." It's all he said, he didn't have the energy to say much more, as they took off Eric sat on the floor of the evac chopper, one hand bunched up in Markus' harness, "Wasn't going to leave him behind...couldn't leave my brother behind...he wouldn't have left me..."

The MH6 hovered lightly over the riverbank, one of the QRF members helping Eric drag the fallen soldier inside, before the helicopter kicked up and pulled up, kicking up out of the forest. The man seemed to have a British accent, his insignia was that of the British SFSG, and they had been the QRF team of choice of the NATO detatchment in Kosovo.
"Command, this is Ranger Actual, Osprey One is KIA, repeat, Osprey One is KIA. Prep medical team on our return, we've got Osprey Two returning to base with major wounds. We've got a lot of shock, facial injury and disfigurement." The British voice said, as he looked back at Eric once more, looking over.
"Holy shit....hang on in. They got your fucking proper. Just deep, calm breaths." He said, knowing while he wasn't the medic of the team, he had to attend to this right now.
"Okay, we can't do shit in this helicopter. The blood is going to stop, I'm going to hold your chest in. You've broken a few ribs, but the armour's stopped the rest of you being broken. Take a nice moment. You're going to make it. Just fucking hang in." He added, taking a few disinfectant and antiseptic wipes from his medical pouch, a good feat given that he was half-hanging off the side of the helo, leaning in and putting it against his left eye.
"Okay, this should ease any infection. I'm going to give you a significant dose of painkillers. You are going to be tripping balls after this, but it's going to stop you from feeling the worst of your internals when the shock dies down. I need you to wriggle your right arm for me, if you can, so I can get it planted." He added, as he withdrew a syringe, gently taking Eric's arm.
"Okay. Steady." With it, the needle hit his arm, and he hoped that it would at least get him home, the helicopter turning a little as they cleared the forest, heading like thunder back towards the NATO HQ.

----------

At the NATO operations centre in Pristina, the helicopter swooped in quickly, Markus declared dead pretty much on site. It wasn't a pretty picture to say the least, and as they carried him on the stretcher, it wasn't a pleasant sight. But this was the reality. Man down was not a comfortable place to be, and it had been an op that had blown out of propotion, as they helped carry Eric to the medical tent, paramedics and doctors flooding, already going over his wounds, and knowing they had to work hard. There was a lot of blood, and it was messy.

The captured man it seemed, had been left in the armoured car. And Magpie was nowhere to be seen. After all, she'd delivered him to the NATO HQ, and her contact agreed that her little interdiction didn't need any more attention. If the team that had been sent had diverted to take the commander, she was no longer needed. But knew they had tackled a bigger asset, somewhat. Blue Sword had tried to bite into something big, and she had just steered it back on course, that was all. If they knew the intel, they'd dare not fuck with this particular site, but what they didn't know had bit them. For Magpie, she knew her own job to cleanup had been done back at the site, and that The Network had taken a major hit.

------------

Four Weeks Later
Blue Sword Ltd HQ,
Perth, Australia

The plane had arrived in the desert base, the C130 landing on the concrete with a screech, as the Russian looked on from the taxiway, watching. Natalie seemed already willing to wait, dressed in a standard Russian officer's dress, mixed with some western elements. Sometimes she was little revealing, yes, but at work, not as much. A tan and brown digital hexagonal camouflage, her golden blonde hair left long and allowed to blow in the wind, as she looked on at the sight before her, the plane blowing up dust and sand. Her black combat boots, her shirt fully done up, tightly containing her puppies in the bra beneath, or as Victor would see them, an area of pure awesome, with a MP412 REX kept in a holster on her belt. Her rank was displayed, and whilst this was a private company, Natalie was still a Major, and played a part in certain command functions of the contractor; but knowing her better as Black Eagle or that scary bitch who was huge, could carry a M134 and rip people in two with a fucking machete was probably what made that a little redundant, and kept her out in the field more by an unofficial pay. You couldn't replace a giant that easily, after all. Not one of her caliber.

It had been a long few weeks, and for everyone involved, time out was required. It had been bloody and merciless, too much had been lost and sometimes, relaxation was needed for everyone involved. As far as Natalie was aware, Ross and Carl were out of the meat grinder, and for them both, they'd gone through a shitstorm. Their armour needed maintenance and update, . For Natalie, that came with being told that her payout from the Russian interior ministry had arrived, and as a double whammy, Blue Sword wanted Natalie on basic training duties and admin for a few of the soldiers. After all, they were playing around with more armour, and Natalie Denisova knew her shit when it came to that category of equipment. Her former status as an Officer in the Spetsnaz and Russian VDV made her perfect to instill the specialist training, whilst Victor had been left to the leash of vetting basic recruits and scaring the ever-living shit out of them. And they had time out too, time to relax and breathe, even on this desert hellscape, dunes and sand and nothing in the distance. Time to catch up on anything, just chill, fuck a little, enjoy their own time, and be ready to go once again.

So Natalie had been sent here, and waited for Eric Whitford, the man that had been wounded in Kosovo. A notable example, given that his fireteam had taken a loss and hit a major data server in Kosovo. He had known of their activities, they were a specialist intelligence team for Blue Sword, and it had been a loss to the company.

Heading over to the Canadian, she looked him over, the Russian taking in the wound on his eye. It wasn't nice. It was horrid, actually, but the treatment had been performed in Kosovo and then Germany, before he'd been shipped out to here. Natalie was doing a little
"Specialist Whitford, I'm glad you made it. I don't think I need to introduce myself. Let's get out of this heat, come with me." Natalie said, not a great opener given it was harsh and orderly, the Major nodding as she led the way, casting a very long shadow indeed due to her stature.

"I heard about what happened to Fireteam Osprey. I'm sorry to hear it. I've drank with Markus before. He's...he was a good guy. Didnt' deserve that, and neither did you. To still fuck that man over....that takes some doing, I have to say. Don't worry, we're going to get rid of these bastards....with me and Victor in the picture, you can be sure that's something we can do well. But I know you were interested in what we had left." Natalie added, as they headed towards the main buildings, off the runway and back into the shade, through to an office, Natalie having to drop her head as they headed in, this place temporarily given up to her. Heading inside, she found her large seat, stupid given it would take her ghetto-sized booty and gigantic body by a desk that towered, before turning the chair to look over at Markus, pointing to a chair.

"I've heard you had a medical. The wounds are pretty critical to most people...believe me, I nearly died and I can say what happened to you was horrible. Entire left eye is gone, hence the patch and.....right eye seems okay, recovering with time, and a lot of pretty horrible wounds, mostly from the car crash that didn't lead to too much loss of blood or infection. In that way, you're incredibly lucky. For all intents, you should be dead, if that piece of glass went through your retina, you'd be a vegetable. But yet here you are. Makes two of us, Eric." Natalie said in her light French accent, leaning back in the chair, as neutral and analytical as she read her notes and looked at Eric, that was, till the end.

"So, I've heard you are interested in coming back. I mean, that is an option. The other is half retirement package, half desk work. You get to go home to Canada, too. There'll be enough money and work to cover you until retirement, on top of any disability and military pension you'd receive. There's plenty of admin work that the company still has to do, and you could be a desk warrior. Blue Sword likes to minimise costs where it can, but given your nature of work and the value of work that you were involved, there's a lot that you could have to receive. Yet....if you think your other eye is up to it, I'm willing to run you through a shooting exercise through this week, if you want to return. If you need time out, I understand. But there's a new role we think we have for you, and I will let you have that opportunity and tell you more about it when the time comes." Natalie added, as she flipped open her laptop on the desk, pushing it to the side.

"There is also something I should show you, given that you may be surprised to hear what you just did to this network. It was something beyond the scale of what any intelligence agency has found yet. You found a back door into their internal server network. And even better, the commander you...well, kidnapped did return to our custody in a later operation, so I'm told. And after some convincing and car batteries later, he did tell us lots about what our next move can be. Of course, they know their network is compromised. But we still hold the cards here, and already, we've found leads across the globe, some in places we never thought we'd find. What you did is going to cut short our little goose chase." Natalie knew she had a lot to say, as she breathed out, looking across the air conditioned room from her huge stature in the chair, back at Eric.

"This is probably a lot to take in. So, I'll let you think your options through."

Eric had looked up at the medic as they took off. His one eye socket still wept blood, and the look on his face is lost and distant. He takes those deep, careful breathes steadily, "There...is alot of pain...a lot..." He lets out a hiss as the needles are pressed into his skin. And he takes a moment or two to enjoy the first rush. He nods, "Tripping...is probably a better thing then the pain right now..." Eric's eye shuts finally, and passes out. The rest of the ride is silent from the operator.

He wakes later, under the knife. Seeing the forceps come down to pull the 3 inch shard of glass out of his eye socket. It took 5 nurses the two surgeons and 3 orderlies to hold him down long enough to put him out again. At even then through sheer force of will, he tossed one of those orderlies across the room before the needle hit his shoulder and he is out. He wakes in a room, heart monitor beeping, a cast on his left arm where they found a bunch of micro fractures in his fore arm, both ankles bound up from sprains, it's a wonder he was able to walk on them. But it's the mass of bandages and thick gauze that covers his eye that tells him the true damage.

When the doctor came in and gave him the low down he had looked at the man with his single good eye and asked simply, "How long until I can get back out there?"
__________________

Four Weeks Later
Blue Sword Ltd HQ,
Perth, Australia

Eric is jerked out of a doze as the C130 jolted as it hit the tarmac. Back in Perth, after spending some weeks in rehabilitation, another few days to make sure he's still qualified despite his depth perception issues. And atleast 5 days at home in Lethbridge, on forced leave, to give him some time to recover and process. He'd used the time to make sure he's in fighting fit.

He got to his feet carefully grabbing his kit bag and duffle. Getting up to join the line of Blue Sword troopers who are shipping in from leave. There are some mutterings as they look over at the thin, gaunt looking man with the grey toned ceramic eyepatch over one eye. alot of the words are curious, "Why is this guy here? He can't be able to shoot with that right? Is he Recon? Intell?" Someone a little over murmurs, "The gossip chains say one of the elite groups got shit on, he's the last one left..." Still another mutters, "I hear it was Osprey...I think that's Eric...the only member of the duo team...his partner was killed in their last op...that's one mad muthafucka over there boys...to still be walking after that shit mang." The rear opened, and the bay master calls out, "Move move! Clear the bay! Do not make me wait for you! We have gear to unload after you get off ladies!"

The Bay Master quiets though as Eric steps by, and even tugs the tip of his cap in respect to the man as he passes. Eric just looks ahead, the face of a man who's focused at the moment.

He steps out into the Australian heat, and takes a long deep breath of that warm dusty air.

In the distance he can hear a booming voice. Victor in full combat gear lopping along side some of the newbies, "What ever you may say about your military training, you are in Blue Sword Limited now. You are fodder for my training course. You are under my command until I say you are ready to step out there and represent this unit as a combat operative! I have stood beside giants literally and figuratively in the Marines, Special Forces and Black Operations groups. I have seen men bat grenades back at insurgents with their bare hands in the midst of open fire fights. I have seen men take rounds to the chest and come back and bury a bayonet in to the throat of the man who shot them! Until you can do that, cure cancer and then do my taxes at the same time you are not ready for Blue Sword. Do you see that Ammo bunker? Move! Laps!" One of the troops had the courage to call out, "How many sir!?" Victor turned to them, "Until I tell you to stop! Move!" He draws the rifle club off his hip and swings, sending the men running to stay ahead of the giant of a man.

Eric grins, "Like coming back home."

He turned, and started towards the administration building. He didn't go far though. He'd been trying to learn how to atleast approximate the sense of depth perception. And he wasn't perfect yet. but he could tell that the bad bitch herself is approaching him. He takes a few more steps, stops and snaps to attention. Major Natalie Denisova, no one in Blue Sword didn't know about the Major and the Master Sergeant. They are Blue Swords super weapons. Natalie with her rotary gun, and Victor with his Grenade machine gun. He'd been in the base taverna, and seen the pair put away 40 drinks between them, get roaring drunk, get into a bar fight with some visiting jarheads, then come out the next day fit and ready to go as if nothing happened. He waited until he guessed she was about 7 feet from him then snapped off a smart salute, "Madam." He tried not to wince when he could see her eyes roaming over him. The cast on his arm, the bandages peeking out of the tops of his boots, the bruises from where he had ping ponged around in the back of that car. Some of them still hadn't cleared. others were fading to a sickly yellow. But he felt it clear when she looked at his eye. He could feel the patch over it. And knew it looked bad, they had to cut open his face to get the shard out, and there was still a ruddy surgery scar showing over the top of the patch. Without thinking his hand came up to rest over the patch, his fingers briefly running over it, "Markus was my brother madam. I didn't think it'd be the right thing to roll over and leave off after what we did, and what he died for." He nodded, "There's always the ones somewhere, who somehow, stepped into the fire, and somehow managed to step out, burned, but alive. I'm just lucky. I heard about what happened to you madam. That was a miracle. But yeah we both stepped into that fire and came out. I don't want to leave the heat yet."

Eric followed along, hiding the slight hitch in his step from thw two nearly healed sprained ankles he had. He's mobile atleast, under his own power. When they entered Natalie's office he waited until she sat down, then sat down himself carefully, letting out a little grunt. He sat and listened through the talk, nodding as they went. He hummed, "Retirement...piloting a desk. Madam, all due respect. I think I'd being do you, the company, Mankind, my brother may he rest in peace, and myself a huge disrespect if I jumped on a desk and rode it down to the end. Dr. Strangelove I am not, but I'd rather jump on a rocket, aimed for the heart of an enemy stronghold. I don't want to leave the heat. And if push comes to shove, I'd rather leave my last out there in the shit, then here somewhere bubbling behind a desk madam." He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, "If I can still be of use, out in the field Madam, then that's where I want to be."

He nods slow, "I'd like to take that fire course madam. Prove that I can do this. I still got the chops I can do it. I may not be one hundred percent, but I can do it. I know I can. Skills like what we've all earned here in Blue Sword..." He trailed off a little as the rookie squad from earlier came tearing past the building, could be seen from almost every window in the room, and Victor's booming voice, "This isn't even full kit? You all said you were in the army? Is this what the army has left since I left? What the fuck! Keep moving all of you!" He had a large MG likely a .50. Held with one hand and arm, firing blanks into the air as he strode along behind the squad, "Until the one in the back stops flinching every time I pull the trigger we are not stopping!"

Eric grins, "We can't let the Master Sarge have all the fun can we? Madam, as much as I respect you taking your time...I think we both know where I need to be. I wanna be out there, walking and firing, I'll do what ever it takes, option A, riding a desk, no madam. That aint me." He gets to his feet, "Where ever you need me to go, what ever you need me to be, I'll do it. I got to much left in me."

Eric had to let out a long deep breath then and nods, "As a homage to my fallen brother Madam, I'll take any test that's needed. I got way too much to give and there's still loads of things to do." He nods and smiles, "Whatever it takes madam." He grunts then and sinks back down into the seat carefully, "Sorry...not one hundred percent. I can do this though madam I swear."