[IC] Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

[BigPapaBelial]

Tyler sat through the briefing nodding slowly. This certainly wasn't Lowjack. These people had done their homework. Had set up their base rather well. They were good. But Echo is better. He listened to the team break up. A two man right hook, and the others would operate as a bruising left straight. The OpFor would be concentrating on the main large force most likely rather then the small two man blindside. It'd work out. He got up and threw a salute Merlin's way as they were dismissed. He called out to the team as they all filed out, "Anyone needs anything tuned up, or something swapped out on your kit. I'll be in the Gunshop for a few hours here. I can set you up."

That being said he headed off for the Arsenal and Gunshop. A few of the bases other gunsmiths were there too finishing other jobs. Tyler headed over to where he kept his kit, grabbing his C7A2 out of it's padded crate. He also wheeled over a mobile gun modification cart. Containing all matter of items, modifications and parts he could apply to a rifle to change it's characteristics. He began to take the C7 apart carefully, lying the parts aside. And started with a new lighter reciever, tooled down to be lighter, but still retain the ability to go from full auto to single shot and back at a moments notice. Next up was a match grade trigger, which he tuned very carefully, allowing for a faster pull, on top of a lighter pull as well. Wouldn't have to apply so much force to the trigger to get it firing. He also tuned in a stopper pin so he didn't end up pulling the trigger too far back. A slightly over-gassed gas system is slid into the reciever followed by lighter but more robust internals. Making the gun signifcantly lighter to carry and quicker to move about. Screwing on a stock barrel with stock rifling but a specially coated inner barrel, coated with a special alloy that would allow for a flatter trajectory at long ranges. A lot less drop when it came down too it if he had to make a long ass shot. With a new and slightly more improved rifle in his hands he screwed on a compensator-suppressor combination onto the end of the barrel. It'd help with recoil a fair bit, and until they neede to go load the suppressor would keep the sound down.

He gave the rifle a shake, making sure nothing rattled, then pulled the bolt and hit the trigger a few times to make sure everything worked. The tell tale click and snap as everything cycled correctly let him know it was all in working order. Next came some customary adornments, his weaponlight, and the PEQ laser sight, tuned for semi-visible ranges so it didn't give him away clearly. His customary C79 3.4x scope. Canadian scopes at it's finest. Finally though he reached way way down into the bottom drawer of the cart. And pulled out a triplet of underbarrel attachments. Two nearly identical M26 MASS shotguns. But one had a piece of tape wrapped around it that read, "Flechette". The other was just a plain old M26 Mass likely using plain 00 buck. Both MASS thought had stand-off breaching muzzles attached. The third item is ancient. An old cut down Remington short barrel, short tube, 870 Masterkey shotgun. Back form the old days of needing a quicker means of door breaching rather then carrying around a second shotgun over all. The Masterkey is a throw back to old school house warfare and breaching. It was only a moment in time, but to Tyler it was an eternity, he finally picked the base MASS, attaching it to the underbarrel mount. All you need for close and long range fun in one effective platform. And they say you can't get horny from a gun.

He grabbed some practice mags, both for the MASS and the rifle and headed outside to the range to make sure everything worked correctly. He'd be more then ready when the time to deploy rolled around.

[ChaoticFox]

As the briefing ended, Oakley immediately proceeded outside towards the range. She was to be running as a designated marksman on this operation and had every intention to be a damn good one. She crossed the yard and walked inside, giving a nod to Tyler before walking over to where her weapons were stored.

She grabbed her tried and true SR25 from it’s crate and brought over a workbench, popping out the pins on the weapon’s body before removing the bolt and carrier from the body. She then moved to the front where she cracked loose the barrel nut and removed the entirety of the close quarters barrel assembly and set it aside. From here, she replaced the barrel with a standard 24”, blacked out instead of silver.

After the rifle itself was mostly reassembled, she grabbed the 8x rifle scope from the case and mounted it atop the rifle’s picatinny rail and also mounted the micro red dot on top of the scope itself for close quarters use. Oakley then mounted her low light range finder and attached it to the side of her rifle’s front rails, along with the compact bipod along the bottom of it.

Picking up her rifle, she quickly attached the suppressor and grabbed a magazine of subsonic 7.62mm ammunition. Oakley flipped down the bipod and rested the rifle on the shooting bench as she took a seat behind it. She slid the magazine into place and racked the charging handle with a grin, pulling down her hearing protection before looking down the scope at the 100m range. Child’s play. She scored five perfect head shots followed by another five chest shots, all within millimeters of each other.

Pulling out the mag, she then removed the suppressor and grabbed four mags of supersonic ammunition before proceeding to the long distance range. Oakley readied up at the 500m range and got into a prone position behind the rifle, locking a mag into place. Lining up her shot carefully, she slowed her breathing and gently squeezed the trigger, sending a sliver of full metal jacket 7.62mm ammunition down range which promptly slammed into the target. She gritted her teeth and adjusted her scope. Her hit was off.

She looked over to Tyler who was also at the range “My sight was off, what’s your excuse?” she said with a light laugh before looking back down range. She fired off another three shots in rapid succession, which all landed on target before standing and rapidly moving over to the close quarters range and switched on the red dot, taking rapid shots at the partially hidden targets before replacing the mag once again. It wasn’t long before she had spent all of her ammunition, and she walked back inside to retrieve her MP7.

She was going to be as ready as she could be for this op.

[Starlance]

Jarek listened to the briefing making mental notes along the way. That small patch of land was currently inhabited by a group of less than friendly individuals. Creatures too weak to fight, instead resorting to things even Stalin wouldn’t do. Probably.

A raid on a small island, at two in the morning and in a fishing village whose builders obviously never heard of right angles, and probably not even materials that could resist a bullet. He couldn’t tell from the photos. A lot of dark places for someone to hide in, not to mention the buildings. That meant something balanced, maneuverable, mounting a short barrel and a powerful flashlight for safety’s sake. As much as it bugged him, once again he had to compliment the ČZUB for creating a failure. He would gladly deliver his form of justice through a piece of metal and polymers carefully machined by golden Czech hands, but the latest products and decisions in this area ranged from pitiful to downright stupid. Calling it “BREN” was just a final insult. Western neighbours were once again the go-to people, in the form of a 416. One could even think they were trying to undo their past mistakes with their services.

After the briefing was finished, he walked out into the warm evening and set off to get ready for the upcoming mission. “Bloody religion.” he sighed as he disappeared inside the gunshop to prepare his rifle, quietly humming a song.

[FourtyTwo]

Merlin looked into Aleksandra, that much could be said, not at her, noticing her raising eyebrows.
"The paperwork came through, from about a month or so ago, just earlier today. You're now a Junior Lieutenant, or over here, a Second. I've been expecting it for a while too, it seems like Officer Training went well for you, then?" He said to her, looking over a small desk that he he had by the area he was presenting in. Opening a drawer, he found a small satin box, pulling it out and approached Aleksandra, . He opened it up, and gently passed it to Aleksandra, nodding.
"I know Echo's been without a formal 2IC for a while, so if you're willing to accept it, you are now in that role. It's been in the making for a while, knowing your interest. Huscarl said you operated well in that role in Somalia, so I'd imagine you'd serve this unit well." The Captain added, as he passed the box to her, knowing that while there had been no pomp and ceremony yet, the forms had been filled, and the need for this promotion had been fulfilled, in time for what was coming ahead for the team.
"Now, don't start acting high on responsibility either, but keep what you've got in mind. Shame there isn't any time for celebration either.....or else you'd be buying us drinks. We have kit to get ready." Merlin added, chuckling, as he shook his head, looking over at the board.
"Dismissed, мла́дший лейтена́нт." The Devonian commanded slyly, as he headed towards the door, the bearded Captain knowing his Russian just well enough to know she'd understand.

--------

Meanwhile, Nikolaj had headed out, and also made his way to the armoury. For himself and Oakley, it looked like they were taking on a different approach to this operation, and for what they were doing, he would need to take a significantly lighter loadout than he was used to taking. As a grenadier, he liked to be able to use an MGL or a UGL on his rifle to amp up the firepower, but this wet work was going to need something slightly different. He knew that Dominique was as good as gold with her SR25, the semi-automatic rifle being as straight and accurate as a designated marksman would want it to be, and he'd be supporting her in providing that fire, no doubt. That said, he knew that Merlin was going to hate him for this, but he was going to use his CO's secondary rifle, on the fact that it would suit this operation better. The fourth-generation FN Herstal SCAR-H, or Mk17 MOD 0 as Dominique would have known it better, was a rifle for many different engagements and abilities. For Naval Wetwork, it was the rifle of choice, and where the F2000 wouldn't have suited for longer-ranged engagements that they were expected to get into, this thing would. He didn't really like taking this rifle off Merlin, but he knew that he wouldn't mind, so long as his precious came back to him in one piece.

On the workbench, Nikolaj started by screwing the 16" barrel out for a full battle-rifle length 20", that would be more than good enough to turn this into a marksman rifle in a pinch. The rifle was sprayed in a dark grey hexagon pattern....the Dane could only think that while Merlin would never admit it, he was a fucking artist with camouflage. The old man knew his way around it, no doubt, he chuckled to himself. He adjusted the RIS on the rifle appropriately, and added a AN/PEQ-15 to the top rail, as well as a Trijicon 6X Optic, that offered plenty of magnification for the ranges that they . A sidebody-mounted Aimpoint Micro T-1 was mounted 45-degrees from the rifle's main sight, on the right hand side of the RIS, as Nikolaj managed to strip the underbarrel M320 off, before sliding a Magpul VFG grip onto the weapon's lower RIS, locking it in place before sliding a tried-and-tested Surefire silencer onto the end of the rifle's barrel. It was a long rifle, that much could be said, but it was adaptable, and would serve Nikolaj well in supporting the person who he would leave it to on this infiltration work, offering a mixture of range and short-range heavy hitting fire. Placing the rifle onto the bench, he set up a set of eight 20-round 7.62mm magazines, filling each and every one to the brim, before getting the rest of his gear set up. His Mk.23, fitted with an Osprey .45 silencer, and a set of green-illuminated Tritium night sights was set to go, as well as the rest of his regular equipment set. Most notably, he had added a pair of the Nanos that Merlin had mentioned, the drones tiny, but wired up to both his TOS system that he'd put in as a contact lens, and a haptic controller, that looked pretty much like a miniaturized remote control of sorts.

In terms of his BDU, he lay it out in the armoury by the rest of his stuff, ready for deployment regardless. A M/01 desert camouflage smock that went over his Frogman's wetsuit, one that would get soaked but dry quickly once they were on terra firma joined a combined combat rebreather and plate carrier set, a full-face diving mask, and the iconic Frømandskorpset camouflage net that would go over that, which did remind him a little of his previous unit. The Kraken would wear something like this, if he wanted to take human form, he was told by his old CO, and the net was an old-school, yet effective way of a frogman wanting to keep their camouflage pattern up. A climbing harness, a metal four-pronged grapple, as well as a couple of Composition 4 charges joined that set, in addition to his usual load. It never stopped paying to be prepared.

Taking the SCAR, he headed over to the shooting range, and putting a pair of ballistic goggles on, as well as ear-defenders, he took a kneeling position and tried his rifle. The SCAR cut into it's target, as he adjusted his position, able to quickly get his shot on point, first at 20m with the backup sight, then further out with the magnified ACOG, the kick of the rifle sitting nicely against his shoulder, as he put it down. He could tell that Dominique and Tyler were getting on well, as he sat quietly, pinging off a couple of rounds, Jaroslav also joining them. How he hated the BREN so much, he didn't know, but the 416 that he was using seemed to serve well, as Nikolaj looked at Tyler.
"Looks like you just got burned, Crowstep." Nikolaj laughed, as he looked back at Dominique, before looking down the range again, adjusting the ACOG a little again, before taking a couple of semi-automatic shots. He stood up, and put it into full auto, turning the rifle as he used the Backup-RDS to put a small grouping of shots into a metal target closer on the range, before finishing the magazine. Dropping it out, he slid the SCAR's mag out, before flipping in a new one, a nice cock of the rifle's bolt chambering a new round, as he looked back at Dominique.
"This thing is as good as it is to go. I'll handle the dive stuff if you handle the longer range." Nikolaj added, as he watched her shoot, the Parajumper's SR-25 optimised for longer than what Nikolaj's SCAR could do, that much he could see.

[Bee]

The time at the base had passed rather quickly as Olivia was finding herself to be a good fit for these sorts of operations. Her future peers seemed to be those who were at the top level of competence. That was what Olivia liked the most. Everyone seemed to know what exactly their role was and what they were supposed to do. She was rather optimistic about what the team had in store for future operations. Being that she and Merlin were of British origin, trained by some of the best forces in the world, Olivia was sure that her skills would come in handy in the future.

---

The team of Tier-One operators stood in the room, all watching closely as the briefing proceeded. Olivia was towards the back, absorbing the information that was coming to her like a sponge. Seems like this was going to be a two-phased operation. Echo Black with the initial phase, Echo White with the next phase. Olivia didn't mind that she was on Echo White. She figured Merlin knew what exactly what he was doing by putting her into that squad. She couldn't wait to get back onto the field. It had been too far long since she had last been on the ground with an actual squad, and not just a gang of amateur Chinese triads in the middle of Colombia.

Once the briefing had ended, Olivia knew that the first thing she had to do was to get herself set up with weapons. She knew what exactly her loadout was, creating the loadout mentally. She was quick to locate the armory. Seemed like there were other people with the same idea in the room already. The priority was to get her ACR properly loaded up. In her briefing and orientation here, she was shown where her kit was. And inside of it were all of her favorites. The ACR, the Mk14, the MP5N... the whole shebang. Seemed like Merlin knew what kind of toys she liked to play with. The little additions she put onto them were all up to her own personal taste though. That was fine by her. She pulled out her American-made rifle, preferring the platform to its counterparts. She sighed and placed the rifle down on her workbench, starting her personal procedure, starting from the internals to the outside to tune it to her own personal needs.

[Bee]

The time at the base had passed rather quickly as Olivia was finding herself to be a good fit for these sorts of operations. Her future peers seemed to be those who were at the top level of competence. That was what Olivia liked the most. Everyone seemed to know what exactly their role was and what they were supposed to do. She was rather optimistic about what the team had in store for future operations. Being that she and Merlin were of British origin, trained by some of the best forces in the world, Olivia was sure that her skills would come in handy in the future.

---

The team of Tier-One operators stood in the room, all watching closely as the briefing proceeded. Olivia was towards the back, absorbing the information that was coming to her like a sponge. Seems like this was going to be a two-phased operation. Echo Black with the initial phase, Echo White with the next phase. Olivia didn't mind that she was on Echo White. She figured Merlin knew what exactly what he was doing by putting her into that squad. She couldn't wait to get back onto the field. It had been too far long since she had last been on the ground with an actual squad, and not just a gang of amateur Chinese triads in the middle of Colombia.

Once the briefing had ended, Olivia knew that the first thing she had to do was to get herself set up with weapons. She knew what exactly her loadout was, creating the loadout mentally. She was quick to locate the armory. Seemed like there were other people with the same idea in the room already. The priority was to get her ACR properly loaded up. In her briefing and orientation here, she was shown where her kit was. And inside of it were all of her favorites. The ACR, the Mk14, the MP5N... the whole shebang. Seemed like Merlin knew what kind of toys she liked to play with. The little additions she put onto them were all up to her own personal taste though. That was fine by her. She pulled out her American-made rifle, preferring the platform to its counterparts. She sighed and placed the rifle down on her workbench, starting her personal procedure, starting from the internals to the outside to tune it to her own personal needs.

[Antediluvixen]

Aleksandra’s eyebrows shot up as Merlin presented the small box and its contents. She was being promoted to lieutenant? But… she hadn’t fully completed all the requirements, or at least the requirements she was aware of. Truth be told, the system still confused her somewhat, but then, anything to do with paperwork and bureaucracy was a minefield of poor phrasing and mountains of bleached dead trees that needed her name written on them. Disarming land mines was less complicated for heaven’s sake - and at least those had the courtesy to immediately ruin her life if she did something wrong instead of coming back a few days or weeks after the fact and making her redo everything.

So apparently she was an officer now - normally that would’ve indeed warranted drinks - it certainly would’ve been a good excuse to open the bottles of Zyr she’d been saving for a special occasion. However, there was the small matter of another op in the immediate future, and it wouldn’t be the best idea to fulfill the Russian stereotype charging into battle flat out drunk and packing heavy weaponry, as fascinating as she was sure it would look to the observer.

She looked back up at Merlin, internal monologue over. “Thank you, sir.” She looked down at the box again, still shocked. “It seems it has gone far better than I thought.” Giving herself a moment to recover, she looked back up once more. “I will do my best not to get too drunk on power, sir. Just with vodka after the op.” She took the box, still unsure how to process the sudden promotion.

She gave a somewhat uncertain, “Yes, sir” as Merlin walked out before staring at the box for another minute.

It would probably be another month before she got over this, if a quick guesstimate judging by past experiences was to be relied on.

Aleksandra grinned, walking out of the room after the Captain.
_____

And walked straight over to where her equipment was kept, quickly appraising all of her options before grinning, with ever so slight a manic hint in her eyes. She reached for it, hefting the Pecheneg with a soft grunt - it certainly wasn’t a featherweight, that much was for sure. The weight wasn’t an issue once she had a good grip with both arms, and the bullpup configuration certainly helped too, but all the same it wasn’t a pleasant weapon to heft off the rack.

Walking with her favorite tool of destruction over to a workbench, she visualized the op, calculating just what parts on the weapon to change out. After a moment of deliberation, she reached for a longer suppressor, unscrewing the short one she usually kept threaded onto the muzzle just to tame the blast of the 7.62 rounds and attaching the heavier duty contraption. She hefted the LMG, feeling the difference in balance the addition of the suppressor gave before nodding in satisfaction. Coupled with subsonic ammunition she had on her hands a suppressed machine gun - she held back the urge to let out a small giggle at the thought. Suppressed machine guns, what would happen next? Would the Americans try to suppress their Dillon miniguns?

…

She paused, smirking to herself, that would certainly be a sight to see alright. She made a mental note to mention the idea to one of the Americans on the team, or alternatively to try and procure a GShG to play with experiment on in her spare time. There were times where the stereotype of the Russian with the big gun could be fun after all!

Shaking her head, Aleksandra refocused on the weapon in front of her now - if she messed this up she wouldn’t be coming back to “experiment” with suppressed miniguns.

There was a decent chance that she might need to engage at some distance, but in theory any long range necessities would be covered by the overwatch, so she ruled out any telescopic sights. Her attention turned to the electronic sights - American red dot sights, holographic sights, and then there were similar sights made right in Russia. She picked one up, powering it on and eyeing the reticle - it was nice, nothing particularly special. Looking through a few others she failed to notice any appreciable difference and chose the first one - for the Motherland, or something.

Securing the sight to the rifle, she quickly went through and added a few more attachments to the rifle - green laser, foregrip instead of a bipod, standard things. This would do nicely.

Fitting some hearing protection over her ears, Aleksandra hefted the now suitably kitted out weapon and marched over to the firing range, loading a belt into the compact harbinger of doom currently resting on the bench. Kneeling down, she took aim at one of the targets, blasting it with controlled semi automatic fire. Despite the shorter length the recoil was perfectly manageable, especially in semi auto, and as she flicked the switch, firing in short bursts on full auto.

She looked over at the others at the range, testing out their marksman rifles. She might not’ve had the same kind of precision with the pecheneg that they had with their rifles, but at the same time, they didn’t have several hundred rounds of ammunition they could let fly with the flick of a switch. A decent tradeoff, as far as she was concerned.

[BigPapaBelial]

Tyler propped his rifle up, firing practice rounds down range. The paper and steel targets that he had set up taking the rounds. Aimming for the center of mass like he was taught too. Crack after crack again and again. He wanted his aim dialed in, he had a tool kit right beside him to make adjustments to make sure the rifle shot where he wanted it to shoot.

When Oakley joined him he gave her a little salute he kept rattling off shots. He stood too and gave Nikolaj a salute too. He grinned at Oakley, "Wind kicked up I think." He set a screwdriver to his barrel, tapping it to one side. He smiled brightly. The next shot was right on point. A perfect ten, boring a 5.56 round hole right through center mass. He grinned and kissed the side of the rifle, "And now it's like the Creator himself will guide my rounds." He pumped a fist. Unloading the main rifle he loaded some practice rounds into the MASS. Walking up close to another target he flicked off the safety, and fired four quick rounds, bang bang bang bang. Leaving four large holes in the target, grinning he smiles, "It works." He struck a pose playfully. And grinned back at the others on the firing range.

[FourtyTwo]

Merlin himself sat quietly as the rest of the team chatted on the range, his gear strewn out. AOR2 with a grey shade was more of a Navy Seal's, or a Marine's camouflage, but he personally quite liked the desert digital camouflage, and it looked the part, but it formed his BDU on his run, alongside a plate carrier, a Predator 30 tactical sack, which contained his tactical binoculars, as well as paracord and his combat first aid equipment onto it's side. The LSAT was chambered in 5.56, and was equipped with a Surefire silencer on the end of the MG's barrel, with a EOTech XPS3 Holographic optic mounted in front of a 3XMag magnifier, slung off to the side from the RIS, the LMG having it's usual Surefire flashlight-foregrip alongside a tan-coloured bipod that sat on the end of the rifle's underbarrel RIS. A shortened UBR stock made the LMG as long as a normal rifle, and it sat neatly against Merlin's shoulder, the weapon feeling like it was just a C8 in his hands, and no heavier, even when fully loaded.

Caseless ammunition did have that advantage, that much he knew, and while it was not exactly something you would call standard issue, it had proven itself in service trials in the US Armed Forces a year ago, and other SF operative groups had a AOR, or actionable operational requirement, for an LMG that could provide the firepower in a package that didn't weigh more than eight kilos. That, and it's remarkable stability, in Merlin's hands, this didn't seem to really have a violent recoil pattern, nor did it falter in the close ranges. It was worth trusting.

He checked his P226, sliding a magazine inside, and screwing the Surefire silencer onto the thread, counter-clockwise, he took a little satisfaction in then taking it back off, sliding it into a case next to his holster. A .357 cartridge was special purpose, and for Merlin, it was because he found that 9mm just didn't really do the job. It had a hard punch, less to play with, but he didn't waste shots. His marksmanship hadn't faded with time, so he preferred caliber to mag size. His dive knife followed, and he had left his particular favourite until last. A larger shotgun was a nice tool, but Merlin liked to keep his weaponry concentrated, tactile, and close at hand. Hence the cut-down 870, and without a stock and a shortened barrel, it really did not look like a tactical weapon at all, it looked like some bastardized tool of a biker. But four 00 12 gauge buckshot rounds against a door hinge always did a better job of opening a door the fuck open, and then the people inside it than kicking it in, he chuckled to himself. For both purposes.

Instead of his usual beanie that he sometimes wore in places like this, he took a carbon-black coloured Ops Core helmet, the carbon fiber paintscheme a little muted, but fitting with the helm's exterior construction, Merlin adjusting the side-mounted camera on the helm, and the GPNVG-18s that were mounted on the fore of the helmet, the night vision quad-goggles offering a wider viewing angle than most, and a nice tool for night operations such as these, though, never a thing to rely upon. He began sorting through the rest of his miscellaneous gear, from grenades to flashbangs, two C4 charges, weighing around 1.5kg each, and a pair of Nanos of his own, the drones slipping into a mag case, being that small. A Petzl headtorch, slung beneath the NVGs, and a pair of Mechanix gloves joined it, as well as his communication system, and TOS, placed in a soft case, to be put in when required. He had served for a long while, that was enough to be said, he'd seen the Iraq War and Afghanistan, when they were still a big deal. And when they weren't, he still had a use. Technology changed, and he adapted well, but he'd do ruddy fucking fine without a contact lens, if he so pleased, if it wasn't for the fact that it told him where his team-mates were, amongst a few other things that he just accepted had some nice uses when using drones and the like.

They would be leaving soon, and Merlin felt ready to do what he had to do. He left them to their own devices, knowing that soon enough, he'd have to brief them again on a FOB that they'd use to mount the assault from, potentially in Sardinia or a naval vessel, and they would begin the process, a long hard day of getting ready to deploy and to strike them where it hurt the most. And as always, it was co-ordinated. Merlin knew how to drive scalpels into the very depths of a network like this, not with brute force, but like a surgeon's hand. He had gone over it, again and again. And he felt prepared, as he knew his team was.

-----------

0147 Hours
9th July, 2020
Somewhere off the coast of Algeria

Echo White

The sea was a cauldron, the wind blowing strong on the seas, and the five-man team was well equipped to the task at hand. The RHIB had no weaponry, and was completely empty, Merlin standing at the helm of the boat, the two engines no longer roaring as they had been, but quietened down, on the approach, with the island barely a couple of klicks out. Merlin adjusted the LSAT on his side, before adjusting the RHIB's course towards the isle, the rocky mount visible from afar, the darkness completely filling apart from the distant light of a farwaway port town on the Algerian coast behind them. The sky was overcast, and it worked wonders for them. No light, was good. Merlin had the throttle turned down, and they were making ground even so, sweeping in on the small village, the SBS Captain prepared to admit that these conditions had it's merit. The waves at least drowned out the noise, and visual on them, which he did indeed, quite like. He knew that his team aboard the boat were ready more than ever, from Jarek to Tyler, to Olivia to Aleksandra. They knew their shit, and like him, they were going over just how they were conducting this.

He had divided Jarek and Olivia to follow on his point, while Aleksandra took Tyler as fireteam that could be detached if needs be, once they were inside the village. Merlin's shortened hair poked out a little from the Ops Core helm on his head, and he looked stern, the sea salt on his lips and his beard, as well as his height putting him across as rather menacing indeed. The boat crested a wave, and before they knew it, they were closing in, anyone who was seasick probably wanting to chunder right now. The camp was dimly illuminated from this angle, though some houses had lighting, and the hermitage, as well as main camp, seemed to have a little more. They were striking in the depths of night, so the longer that they could keep this quiet, and eliminate hostiles without making too much effort, the quicker they could get this done.

Looking over his operators on the small RHIB, Merlin chuckled, nodding. The bearded Devonian looked like this was another day in the office, and while it may have seemed striking to most of the other operators, he seemed completely unfazed by how much the boat was going up or down, or just how much sea spray he had on his face. He looked completely at ease, yet a little pleased to be at sea. Standing tall with his helm on, and with natural night vision, you could make out his outline and frame to be something you really didn't want to be an enemy's, his general demeanour already engaged into a different frame of mind to what it had been barely 36 hours ago. He looked like nothing like that Merlin, he looked different, as if he was willing to not even question a single ounce of what was about to happen next. It came with experience and time, in his head the want to just do the task at hand and in the process, kick some fucking skulls in, saying all that had to be said.

"Hmmnn, we're going to need a bigger boat." He muttered, chuckling a little, looking over at Aleksandra, nodding. He knew his 2IC was going to find tonight interesting, and that she was up to the task, so long as she kept her wits about her, and her head screwed on straight.
"Good thing we're not all swimming tonight....the sea's a fucking drum!" He yelled over the sound of the waves and the engine, as he looked over at the shoreline, picking out a position, pointing it out to whoever was standing by his side, the RHIB having no seats or anything of that kind in it, so it made sense if you weren't standing and hanging on to be laying the fuck down or at a corner where you wouldn't get thrown out.

"Right there, by that side of the cliff....we can park it in and move up into the side of the village. From UAV overlooks, they aren't covering it at all, and not at this time of night. Too busy sleeping tight or shagging horses, or some shit." Merlin added, chuckling lowly, probably unaware of how culturally insensitive he was sometimes. That was what you got with people like him- and to tell him otherwise was usually a bad idea. He could hold it in sometimes. Right now, he didn't give a fuck, and pestering Merlin about petty matters usually resulted in a loss of teeth. And memory. The only thing in his mind was the plan. They would execute it, and if anything went wrong, they would execute the next best one, and so on, and so on, until they had the objective, and were gone.

"So it's perfect place to strike from....remember, we want to thin out this village, maintaining silence for as long as possible. Thinning them out while they sleep tips the balance for us against these goatfuckers when we move in on the hermitage." Merlin's gruff voice added, his accent and his very sound being one that tied ears to it, as prickly as the salty sea, yet clear enough to get the point home.
"It isn't ethical. Neither is bombing a fucking Cafe. So if you find some, don't waste rounds if you don't have to." He said to her, nodding as he pointed out the village once more.
"Anything to add, Wolf? I suggest once we're in, we stick together, and only detach if we find we can outflank and get the drop on any isolated groupings, without making too much noise."

---------

Echo Black

The SDV was dark, everything was dark, apart from the display in front of Nikolaj's eyes, the Dane staring through the diving mask, sucking in air from the rebreather, slowly, and calmly. Too heavy and fast, and the CO2 would build up, and that would disorientate you and potentially, be lethal. Breathing with a rebreather had to be a steady, nice and predicted rhythm. It didn't demand hard breaths, it demanded an operator to take the air that was cycled through and sent back up to be breathed in as effortlessly as it was out. And with the doors sealed, the blackness the same with them opened, it felt quiet, eerie almost. He knew only one other passenger was on board, and that was Dominique, the American Parajumper, probably doing something she wasn't as used to.

The noise of the motor had calmed, and they were running in at about 4 knots, along the seabed, the FLIR camera on the SDV's nose picking up the shore, slowly clambering up to the seamount of the cliff face. Nikolaj knew that Oakley knew the air better than she did the sea, but would be competent enough to swim, and at least follow his lead, on whatever the Danish sergeant was going to do here. He began levelling the SDV out, pulling back on the control and bringing it towards surface, looking over, as he adjusted his underwater transeiver, a radio system built for military divers that retained some level of clarity.
"Okay, Duchess, prep the periscope. Let's get us a look on the approach." He added, as he levelled the submarine out, the sea a cauldron, the winds remarkably strong for the Med, and blowing a gale through the sea. No rain accompanied it, it had to be a Saharan blast of wind, and the sea was angry, so Nikolaj's inner Kraken felt. The SDV had a camera-equipped periscope that extended about seven feet above it's surface, and could be used to keep the SDV below water, yet with a view above. It wasn't the best view in the world, but would serve well, to judge their infiltration location and other features, such as the makeup of the cliffline, and any potential threats in the boathouse, a tiny shed on the water that sat at the bottom of the long staircase.

"Infil location is tricky. We'll stop the SDV short of it, and swim the rest. We'll need to fit charges in the boathouse, then set Claymores there too, as a failsafe if we receive guests. We can't take the stairset going up to the top of the mount, so we'll climb it instead. We have the grapples, and it's mostly a scramble. Nothing too difficult, but if we can't do it, we'll take the stairs. No lift I'm afraid. It's a long, long way up from here." He added, the demolished hermitage, come terrorist encampment at the very top of the stairs he mentioned, the elegant steps being carved into the sandstone on the way up, a web that offered a perplexing verticality, against the harsh cliffs below. Watching on over at Dominique's display, he changed the frequency a little, aware he'd come out a little garbled, but clear enough to Captain Bastion.
"Echo Lead, this is Echo Black, we are one mike to stop point, we will keep you updated."

[Starlance]

Jarek held on to whatever kept him from falling out of the boat, hoping the ride would end soon. It was a long time since he went through something like this and it served as a good reminder of why he hated water. Good thing Czech Republic was land locked. Taking his right hand off the rail in front of him, he opened his admin pouch, trying to compare what little he could make out of the distant village with the map when the boat crested a wave, reminding him to hold on tight.

He didn’t mind being grouped with Bastion and Yen. Though the 601st was the best of the AČR, they were still like a poor cousin of the SAS or SBS, so there still was probably something to be learned from them, though he hoped someone else would be told to watch their six, rear guard being a position he’d rather avoid. The yellowish lights of the encampment were slowly growing, the weak lighting working for them as they wouldn’t be blinded by bright lights. The mountain of a Captain yelled something about rough sea and lack of enthusiasm for swimming in such conditions. “Nepovídej” the moravian rifleman whispered grimly to himself. According to the Captain, approaching the village should be quite simple. Once there, quietly reduce their ranks. Like peeling an onion. Simple enough. Than he remembered Merlin’s briefing. 40 to 60 militants. Maybe not as simple then. He strained his eyes in the island’s direction, barely making out the outline of a bell tower. Soon, the other team would be up there, giving their guardian angels a helping hand.

[BigPapaBelial]

Tyler had one hand gripping a piece of webbing on the side of the RHIB tightly. He lay over the side, C8 aimed out in front of them. He thanked the Creator now for those tactical glasses he has on. The ocean spray turning his face an oddly pleasant dampness. He grinned a little and gripped tighter over one really powerful wave. He smiled a little, "Bigger boat...should have brought something with guns maybe. Sir." He grins softly.

He's decked down from head to toe. Combat BDUs, helmet, vest and webbing. His Hi-power strapped to the front of his vest, P-SARK sheath just below his left shoulder which would allow him to quick grab it. The entire squad here kitted out in their own way. Echo is the kinda outfit that you know is worth being in. They know their shit. SAS, Frogmen, 601 SKSS and other units besides. Multi-national, multi talented. Echo pretty much had it all and more besides. He's honored to be along, kinda glad Petawawa let him be detached from his CJIRU group to be allowed to act with Echo. It felt really good to be among them.

As soon as they hit the shore. He leapt out, grabbed the front lines on the boat and pulled it further up onto the sand and rock. Just so their boat didn't end up washing out into the water on them. Last thing they really wanted to do was have to swim out to it when they needed to make an escape. Along the same lines of your AFV taking a rocket when you thought you left it in a safe place. He didn't want to be the one to be asked to swim out to the boat later in the operation to get it.

When the boat was squared away he headed over and knelt down beside their new 2IC, Aleksandra, and today his squad leader. Two man squad, worked for him. He gave her a nod, whispering, "On your mark ma'am. I've got your back if we need to split off from the main group ma'am." He checked his rifle, slotting a magazine in, holding the Wildcats for later. Just a straight up 5.56 mag for now, lock the mag in, he cocked it, getting a round in the chamber, made sure the sure AAC suppressor attached to the barrel of his C8 is attached correctly, then does the same for the Hi-power, checking the loaded mag on the Hi-power as well.

He smiled, everything squared away. This ought to be good. The order of business, quiet infil, thin out the herd. Knife and blade. Make sure bodies are hidden, make sure they don't get up. These bastards wanted to bomb and kill people, he had not worries about doing the exact same to them. Not in the least. Canada might be the worlds peacekeepers. But today, this is one Canadian that's going to be a life taker, rather then a life saver.

[Bee]

The Chinese operator was riding in the boat, sat right next Blacktail as she pointed her ACR out the side of the boat. Unlike the Canadian operator next to her, she was squinting to deal with the ocean spraying in her face. She was carrying goggles in her rucksack, but the ride wasn't going to be that long so Olivia opted to deal with the ocean spray. It was nice to have water on her face that wasn't being poured over a towel. The operator stayed patient, breathing calmly and maintaining her composure, despite it being her very first operation with this task force. It reminded her of her SAS days, executing operations that not even the British Parliament knew about. The only knowledge of those operations remained within those who were involved.

One nice thing about being a part of Echo was that she didn't have to deal with wearing those gas masks. She was decked out very similarly to her colleagues, the only difference was that she was the only one wearing a short sleeved shirt. It was personal preference, given the climate of the region. Her helmet had a pair of night vision goggles mounted on it, so that she had an easy time seeing in the dark. Plate carrier, Crye combat pants, 5-11 rucksack, Olivia's preferred equipment to her exact specifications. Crazy how they got everything down to the tiniest little detail.

Once the boat had hit the shore, she had jumped off and regrouped with her squad, kneeling close to Merlin as she checked her weapon, making sure that a round was chambered. The ACR was a weapon Olivia had taken quite a liking to ever since she fired the first round of 6.8 SPC out of it. She had it outfitted, hybrid sight, AN-PEQ 15, silencer, and an angled foregrip. But based on the sound of what Merlin was getting at, maybe the ACR wasn't the best tool for this particular objective. The only other weapon she had was her Sig Sauer. She let the rifle rest on her back, pulling out her Swiss-made pistol and pulling the slide.

Hopefully the rest of her squad had a similar idea. Just waltzing in with a silenced pistol and a knife, slitting throats and sending .40 S&W rounds through their heads. It wasn't a pretty sight but it was something the whole Task Force was used to doing. They were trained to do things that most people couldn't handle to do. What traumatized most would just be another day at the office for these people. Olivia pulled a silencer out from her vest and attached it onto her Sig Sauer, then unsheathing her knife and positioning it right underneath her gun. "Ready when you are, Merlin."

[Antediluvixen]

Aleksandra once again held her necklace close as she huddled in the boat with the other operatives. She whispered muted prayers to herself under her breath, seeking forgiveness for the horrors she would be visiting upon these people - no matter how much they deserved it. Killing, no matter how righteous, would always be a tragedy - the death itself indeed, and the damage to the killer’s psyche moreso in this case, that it was necessary the greatest tragedy at all. Aleksandra sighed to herself as she felt the adrenaline begin to circulate in anticipation - despite her spiritual misgivings about killing she was a fighter. Killing came naturally to her, the first man she had killed hadn’t even been in military service - it’d been during a fight over… something, she didn’t even remember now. All she could remember was the rush of a fight, the knife sliding between his ribs…

She shook her head, philosophy could wait until she had, hopefully, returned from the mission alive and in one piece. Right now she had higher priorities, and, finishing her prayer somewhat awkwardly, having just broken from remembering that day.

Looking up at Merlin she processed his words for a moment, she’d heard everything he’d said despite being lost in thought, and after a moment’s thought no better plan of action had come to mind. Drawing her knife she spun it expertly in hand, face contorted in a savage glare as she remembered the sightless eyes and agonized faces of those who had died in gas attacks right in front of her. “Sounds good to me. Overwatch is keeping away nasty surprise, yes?” She calmed down slightly, slipping the knife back in its sheath as she mulled over the tactical situation some more in her mind. Her accent was thick as usual, but still perfectly clear - at least to anyone used to it.

Whatever his answer, she refocused on the rapidly approaching shoreline. Moving ashore quickly and quietly with minimal fuss, she quirked an eyebrow as the one Canadian - Tyler, she remembered- moved over next to her. She gave him a noncommittal shrug in response to his question, “For now I would stick with Wizard. Tell me if anything big catches your eye and we move to eliminate it. For now…” she pulled her knife out again, twirling it around her fingers playfully before clamping down on it in an icepick grip, “Tracheostomy time.”

[ChaoticFox]

The parajumper’s heart pounded in her chest, a loud deafening beat in the silence of the water. It was dark all around apart from the small displays in front of them and she couldn’t help but feel nervous as they continued to float along in the water. She took slow, regular breaths through the rebreather as instructed, though it took every bit of willpower in her to do so. She hated this part, it scared her to no end. The thought of drowning the inky black depths of the Mediterranean filled her mind and her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes for a single moment, trying to relax herself and slow down her heartrate once again.

"Okay, Duchess, prep the periscope. Let's get us a look on the approach."

Oakley flicked a switch to begin extending the periscope and switched her screen to the camera view. After a view seconds she was a rewarded with a monochrome view of the shoreline, the island filling the screen. She examined the coastline, picking out a few figures here and there which were presumably lookouts.

“Alright, I’ve got two tangos at the boathouse, presumably armed. Otherwise, we’re invisible to anyone else on the island from here on in.”

Oakley reached down and switched her radio to the alternate channel, glancing back down to the screen. Amongst the buildings a .50 cal had been mounted as a defense and was barely visible to the camera.

“Echo White, be advised that there is one visible mounted gun position overlooking the camp. It’s gonna get messy if they find out we’re here and that MG is still up. Over.”

Oakley habitually looked around herself for threats, only to be met with darkness. She lowered a hand to check her sidearm, before returning her gaze to the nearing shoreline on her display. Distance check, three quarters of a mile and closing, the details of the landing zone and boathouse now becoming more and more clear on the screen. She glanced over to Niko and nodded. There was something she liked about him, whether it was his discipline to get shit done or the carefulness shown towards the approach. Either way, she was glad to be paired with him.

“Half mile to go, how far can you swim?” Her voice was playful, as if challenging him-- no, daring him to ditch the SDV now. It was evidently meant to be a joke however. She knew better, exhaustion from excess swimming would negatively impact her ability to place accurate shots and they still had a cliff face to scale.

[FourtyTwo]

Echo White

The RHIB slowly drifted onto the rocky shore, he moved quickly, LSAT in one hand, gently stepping off the boat as he took a hand and began to help pushing it in, off the rocks, and into a depression, a rock-pool of sorts that sat beneath the view of the encampment above, and most of the village. A quiet point, and a good point to insert from. Merlin looked over his men, as well as the two ladies that were following along.

The village was close, as he moved up, LSAT confident in both hands, as he looked over the team. It was good to be operating again, not doing fucking wetwork, Merlin said to himself. No holds barred. He put his gloved Mechanix hands over his GPNVGs, dropping them over his eyes, the quad-lensed night vision goggles offering a wide arc of view, that worked rather nicely over regular NV. Four eyes, maybe, but it worked wonders.
"Right. On my lead. Keep a swept arrowhead for now, nice spread till we're closer. Two, or three on an alley each, overlap arcs, don't get sloppy." He quietly, yet harshly added into his throat mic, giving the impression that he was in your ear, yelling, yet the voice didn't really project to be heard by fucking everyone in the village.

Merlin kept the point, as he went prone behind a pile of trawler nets, watching a trio of soldiers leave a building, headed up towards the main encampment, watching, waiting, as he looked over at the others, moving up from his cover behind the nets, moving up to a wooden shack, as he peeked again.
"Empress, Czech, you're up, get a fix on that first building on the outside. We'll establish a view from there on out. I'll follow." Merlin said to the other two members, letting Aleksandra cover their rear for the moment, as he let those pair move first. LSAT readied, he waited till they were in position, before moving across low, moving down the escarpment a little to the first of the isolated sandstone buildings. He guessed that Jarek would take to what Merlin was calling him, hopefully, at least.

Moving up on the two, he gave a gentle pat on Olivia's back, as he looked to the door. Drawing his dive knife, he slowly pushed through the door, and saw the man, asleep on a chair, leant over onto a desk, his AK by his side, another on the floor. The knife entered the man's throat, before Merlin let Jarek, or Olivia have the pleasure of the other inside this small one-roomed sandstone hut, the kill utterly silent.
"First structure is clear. Wolf, Blacktail, bound to the next isolated building, 11 O'Clock, 40m, and clear it out. I'll establish an overwatch with a Nano." He added, as he looked back at the other two, the bearded SBS operator barely fazed, his LSAT back in his hands once more, as he looked over. Taking a small Nano from his chestplate, he gently flicked it on, and using the TOS that quickly connected to it's camera, threw it out of the small window that the man slept near.

The tiny palm-width rotary drone took flight, as he used a small touch-pad on his wrist-mounted GPS, his gloved finger having a small pad that would allow him to at least gently control the drone, as he engaged it's FLIR. The IR strobes on his team were a gentle light for each one, as well as the HUD identification for each one. Drones were not his tool of choice, but it gave him an unprecedented ability to view the battlefield from above, and along the area. It had a limited range, and wasn't perfect, not in high winds like this, but it would allow him to see into the area.

"Echo Black, this is Actual, I read your last. We'll stay weary, recommend you move to a position where you can neutralise it when the shit hits the fan. Nano's picking up a loose assortment of hostiles in the village proper, I see around eight on patrol, in pairs, one trio. I would suggest you do the same for the encampment, but make sure you don't have it compromised, or we are fucked before we want to even bring it to these goatfucking shits." Merlin's voice over the radio had this presence, his voice gravelly and as on point as the man himself was on an operation, a different human being altogether from what he was like back at Chievnor. It may have been hushed, but it was still as full of his usual wroth as it was. The drone was doing a good job, as he flicked his hand on the pad, the drone beginning it's return path, as he saw it come in. He was walking outside, as it gently buzzed past his head, already aware of where it was going to go.

The Nano dropped back into his hand, as he looked over at the fireteam that had moved on the next isolated building, the last before the village became dense, no longer a set of isolated fisherman's buildings, but a small, overlapping, network of short alleys and low buildings. Due to the nature of the cliff, it was mostly out of sight from the top of the ruins, but parts were exposed. Looking at the Czech and Chinese-English pair of operators by his side, he gave a simple nod.
"On me, you two.. Wolf, Blacktail, take up the right flank, I see an entry point into the village proper that you can manipulate if you want to take another flank. Should place you behind a small cache, could be an armoury, or a barrack, IR looks like it could be both." Merlin simply said into his comms, as he looked back towards his two fellow operators, moving slowly but surely down the escarpment, the village made up of sandstone structures, some falling apart, some higher than others, all seeming to bunch up in this particular area. There was a small marina of boats, though it appeared nobody was close to that, not at this time of night. Visibility was difficult, but Merlin had the layout mostly memorised in his head, the Nano only giving him a prompter for a second of it's use, as he kept his profile low, the LMG pushed tight against his shoulder.

Moving up towards the edge of a building down one of the alleys, noises could be heard, of a patrolling pair of guards. Merlin lowered his LSAT as he leaned in tight against the wall, knowing it was time for his bloodied knife to go to work again, knowing that they were moving up to the outskirts of the village perimeter. He looked back, to face Jarek.

"Two, moving on my corner. On my mark, Czech, shoot the rear of the pair, clean on the head...on my mark." He simply added, as he drew his trusty dive knife, the rubberised handle of the blade fitting fully in his hand, the end like a prison shank, a narrow, and shorter blade than a Bowie, yet even sharper, and for Merlin's uses, perfect. He looked back at Olivia, and with a subtle yet Merlin-like movement, he knew where the man would be. Right in front of him.

The men were following one behind the other, exactly as their foosteps had given them away, and their talking. He grappled him by his shirt and chest rig, pulling him around the corner, knowing Jarek had the other bewildered man, his AKS still pointing at the floor. Yet that didn't matter. Merlin's face said it all, as he felt the man try to resist, try to clutch his AKM in his hand, yet had it stumble from the tips of his fingers.
"Mark."
Throwing him down, Merlin kicked him hard in the lower chest, winding him heavily, the sole of his boot connecting and likely breaking at least a couple of the poor fucker's ribs, as this wasn't an effort that was half suppressed. With a suitable bash of his head against the sandstone wall with his left hand, all in one seamless continued movement from the moment he'd pulled him round, he felt the blood begin to pour now, Merlin's physical strength one that he had retained his whole career, it's pure anger able to manifest itself into people like this, as he knew what to come next.

The knife slid into his right eye socket, as he pushed the blade in as far as it would go, the noise quiet, but if you saw it, one that didn't make itself forgettable. It made short work of his eyeball, the question not even having to be asked of what the fuck just happened. The man should have screamed, if it wasn't for the fact that Merlin's left hand was over his mouth and locking his very jaw, pinning him against the wall, a muffled pant from his winded lungs all he could muster, as Merlin twisted the blade's handle as he pulled it back, and felt the life slowly drain from the man, as a simple slit against an artery on the right hand side of his throat poured the rest of the blood that the poor man had left. Lifelessly dropping to the floor in a bloody heap, Merlin staggered back up, spitting on him.
"Right, that's my theatrics for the night. Feel free to join in. Blacktail, Wolf, head to the upper side of the village, and get me a recon on the hill path up to the main encampment on the mount, sweep and clear for any hostiles you see, and keep an eye open for any intel or information."

"Empress, Czech, you're up on point with me, we'll continue sweeping buildings through the village. Minimise exposure, use cover, and only fire when you know you have the sound dampening for it. We don't want to attract attention needlessly." Merlin added, shaking his head a little, as he dragged the body behind a pair of crates, semi-hidden from sight, difficult to see unless you put a torch directly behind the stacked boxes.
"Though I must admit, I'd like to see someone come see what I did to that piece of work." He looked back at the other two operators, the village a little brighter than the rest, the occasional gas lamps and floodlights around the village making difficult to use his NODs. He flicked them back up, and nodding, gave a gentle "Move Up" motion with his hand, clearing the corner, his stance lowered, his LSAT raised gently.
"Easy. I expect another few more, but we'll sweep buildings one by one. Czech, you lead on any you see activity on, Empress, you follow him in. I'll retain cover outside. There's a one I saw on the Nano up ahead that look interesting. We should be coming round." Merlin added, the grizzled Captain moving quiet, his eyes adapting quick to the darkened corners, as he kept his head on a swivel, and his ears sharp. Around the corner, a slightly larger sandstone house, with walls knocked down inside it was the structure Merlin was referring to, with the Nano unable to see inside of it when he got his overwatch. He'd guess that there were hostiles inside, and that his two members of his fireteam could give it a go, while he made sure nobody crept down the alleys outside.
"That one there. It's all yours. Remember, quietly. The element of surprise is still the ball in our court, more than it is in Andy fucking Murray's."

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

Echo Black

"Further than you, Duchess. Krakens can go swimming all day, but I heard little birds can't. Retract the periscope, and get your shit ready. It's a good day beneath the waves...and I think you're going to find my swimming hard to beat." Nikolaj's Danish accent stuck a little in his voice, as he chuckled, looking to his side, as he checked the LCD display once more. He moved his hand across the control panel, the "doors" of the SDV opening up, as he saw the distance closing in. The sea bed was closer and closer, as he began to ease off the engine, looking over at Dominique.

"We can take those two in the boathouse, then set our trap. I like the sound of being invisible."
The SDV gently began to stop, as he slowly unclipped himself from the karabiner holding him inside, sliding upwards as he saw the gentle moonlight reflect a little off the sea, the Danish diver beginning to swim forwards, as he looked back at the Parajumper, Nikolaj's Mk23 close by in his hand, able to fire off a round due to the nature that he had it stored in his holster on his wetsuit, and that would be all he needed of the pistol when they were in position.

Swimming along the seabead, he kept an eye on his fellow operator, his breathing rhythmical, his legs kicking hard, from the tips of his flippers to the gentle approach towards the shore. He slowly surfaced, to peek another look at the two men in the boathouse, as he plunged back under.
"I suggest we catch them off guard....let's head straight to the boathouse, if we're going to stay invisible, we might as well start early. Have your pistol ready, but we might be able to take them to the deep if we do this craftily." Nikolaj simply added, as he continued swimming, the Dane not as resolutely brutal as the British Captain, but acutely aware of what "crafty" meant. He looked back once more, the sea as black as could be, the occasional glimmer allowing him to see Dominique close by, Huscarl leading the way as he continued the swim.

The shore up to the boathouse began to look more artificial, the light growing from the lighting inside, as he peered towards the light. It was poor to see, but the two men were sitting on one of the wooden boats inside, both armed exactly as Dominique had said, and appeared to be arbitrary. He couldn't hear them talking, but Nikolaj could guess that this wasn't exactly total terrorist talk right now....but they were in the way.
"I've got the man on the left to give as a gift to the deep....we're pulling them in. Keep it smooth, don't stop when you have them. You can't ask for cleaner, if we're going to pull them out of sight." Nikolaj simply added, as he didn't even ready his knife, staying as deep in the boathouse's waters as he could, looking to Oakley.

He gave a simple signal, a nod, the Danish diver aware that this wasn't something that was actively trained, but was simply enough to understand what was going to happen next. Nikolaj's man was the difficult one, the other was practically outfacing away from the sea, while the other looked out to sea.
"Go." With that, Nikolaj kicked hard, and using a sudden bit of buoyancy, lept upwards to grab the man, taking him by the whole of his shoulder, as he began to yell. It was too late, too little, and most of all, unheard, as he grabbed his neck whole, sinking back down into the black deep with the man, as he kicked hard, kicking against Nikolaj's legs, as Nikolaj pulled tighter. He tried to fumble for the Dane's mask, for his chest, for anything, but none of it made sense. It took almost half a minute, but the man stopped, his muffled drowning stopped, as he rolled him off, Nikolaj even aware he was breathing hard. Taking a life wasn't fun, not when it had to be like this, but sometimes, it had to be clean, it had to be simple, and it was from a position of their strength, not the enemy's.

"Tango down. We've got Claymores to point, and a climb to do. Up onto dry land we go." Nikolaj's voice was stern, yet not too hard, as he heard Merlin's message come in. He surfaced gently inside the boathouse, finding a wooden pontoon to slowly clamber onto. His SCAR raised, the long weapon in both hands, he swept the rest of the boathouse, checking for any new bodies that were in here, before taking a knee, waiting on Oakley. When she was ready, he took his mask off, sliding it past the top of the desert-coloured smock that covered the hood of his wetsuit, slinking it onto his shoulder, as he looked back over at Oakley.
"Put your claymores wherever you think they'll work, I'll set a few on the right near the base of the stairs, we'll use a detonator, and a wire on the door into this bloody place. Should buy us time if anyone arrives.....or leaves." Nikolaj slowly let the water drip from his weapon, before switching on the T1, a magazine chambered inside as he slowly swept the wooden boathouse, the rest of the boats here looking completely worse for wear.
"This is Echo White, we're setting M18s inside the boathouse, after that we are headed up, ETA ten mikes to overwatch." Nikolaj said into his regular radio, aware that Merlin would pick it up, as he gave a quick glance back over at Oakley, the net still over his face.

"Looks like when they said you'd be doing wetwork, this is what they meant, Duchess."

[Starlance]

Glad to be finally on solid ground, though tainted by the presence of certain malevolent beings, he let his rifle hang loosely on the sling and helped tug the boat to a safer place. Adjusting his helmet and pulling his NVGs over his eyes, he took a moment to look around before falling into formation. Approaching the village felt like stepping into a bear cage. One with primitive and unusually unpredictable bears, that is. Nodding in acknowledgment at the order, he glanced briefly at the closest building before moving over to it, quickly, but as quietly as he could.

Reaching the building, he carefully peeked around the corner, careful not to stand beside a window, scanning their immediate surroundings before turning around, only to find out that Merlin was already inside. When your job was killing others, some people would find being a workaholic questionable at the very least. He didn’t have to look inside to make a pretty good picture of what happened in there. Moving along one of the alleys, slow footsteps and unintelligible speech made them stop. Smirking at the Captain’s order, he pulled his Glock 17 out of its holster and took aim, the three green dots on the sights aligned, pointing to where he expected the guard to be when he made it past the corner. “I Hope they’ll think it’s just the sea making that noise or something.” The first guard that passed disappeared from Jarek’s field of view in a quick motion. “Mark.” He didn’t need to be told as the other guard casually strolled into view, still oblivious to the three operators less than two meters from him. His Glock barked quietly and the man fell, hitting the ground with a hollow thud. At this range and with an unaware target, it was almost too easy. He pointed the weapon at the ground and looked at the Captain, not expecting any problems on his side. He did not expect to see what he did. He looked back up, returning the pistol back to its holster, as trouble making was probably the last thing on that guard’s mind. Grabbing the second militia man by his ankles, he soon joined his buddy behind some piled boxes.

Following Merlin, he listened to his little speech and nodded, looking over his shoulder to see whether the SAS operator was behind him. Jarek noticed the door to the nearest building was slightly ajar and walked over to it, peeking inside. In the dark room, one could make out the shapes of many bags and boxes. Moving in, he hugged the wall to the right of the door, scanning the room with his rifle raised. Looking inside a few random boxes and burlap sacks, he found nothing but foodstuffs and a box ammunition, most likely 5.45x39 or 7.62x39. Going through the doorless frame leading to another, much smaller room, he crouched beside the remains of a collapsed wall. He observed the larger building ahead, noting the light coming from inside it. “Lights are on, but I can’t hear any sound coming from inside. Could be empty, or maybe they’re sleeping. Or they somehow know about us and they’re waiting for us to casually stroll in. What do you think?” he motioned to the house.

[Bee]

The 6'2" British woman activated her night vision goggles, the world suddenly being lit up in some sort of a ghastly green. All her peers had a beacon that lit up pretty brightly, so they had less of a chance being shot in firefights. God forbid that they would get into a big caliber firefight, but if it happened it happened. Falling into formation, Olivia held up her ACR and scanned carefully as they progressed further with their arrowhead formation. All that Olivia could hear was the gentle crashing off the ocean, which was perfect given their upcoming task regarding the extermination of a certain species of goatfuckers.

As they came up across the first building, Merlin had directed them to stack up on the doorway. As she waited for everyone to get settled, she put her ACR away and switched to her silenced Sig Sauer. Unsheathing her knife, she placed it right underneath the butt of her pistol and waited for that soft tap on her shoulder. As soon as she felt it, it was going to be a soft entry. Footsteps quieter than a cat's. The less shots that were fired at that moment, the better off they would be. As she felt that tap, she opened the door and had her pistol pointed, she left the guard in the chair for Merlin to handle, and went for the other guard inside. Surely Czech wouldn't mind if she took this kill for herself. She put her pistol down, holding her knife in her left hand gingerly as she went up to the standing guard, putting a gloved hand on his mouth and pulling him down as she put the knife in his throat as well. She held him down as he squirmed, the life draining from his body as he struggled to get away from Olivia. But her grip was too strong, and soon enough he stopped, and the life had left completely. The former SAS operator had let the body down, removing her knife and cleaning it on his uniform as she switched back to her ACR.

The fireteam had moved up to the village perimeter, Olivia tight behind Merlin as he had issued an order for both he and Czech to execute a patrol simultaneously. As Olivia had heard the go-code, she heard one silent whisper, and then a thud as Merlin was probably going to do something rather dramatic. And so she was right, he had managed to stab someone through his eye. It was a gruesome scene, but Olivia had the curse of being able to say that she had seen far, far worse. With the theatrics over, Olivia had moved up with the rest of her fireteam, sticking to the shadows as now there was a lot more light, but a lot more cover to conceal their movements. She moved quietly, but with a lightness in her feet in order to prevent people from knowing that she was there along with two other operators. As they progressed, they came across a building that Merlin felt that Olivia and Czech should tackle together. And so they did, packing herself with him as they progressed to the building.

Clearing inside, they had discovered that it was clear, but another structure ahead had caught Czech's attention. When asked her opinion, she gave it. "Well, we have to assume the worst, don't we?" Olivia was thinking about a way to figure out how to scope out the house without actually being there. "Why don't we have Merlin do some recon on it? Better safe than sorry, yeah?"

[BigPapaBelial]

Tyler took position on one of the far edges of the spear point formation. He pulled his own NVGs down over his eyes. Just a two lens like normal. Just straight up bifocal rather then a mono focal or the bosses fancy four lens panorama view NVGs, he wanted to get a pair like that. Would be really useful. He made due for now of course. He tucked his C8 up close to his shoulder, moving in tight conjunction with the group. He joined in on alley clearing, he kept his weapon light off for now. No reason to have a small bright sun pinpointing his position. He caught up to the rest of the group after covering an alley. He got to see the backsides of the soldiers heading higher up towards the main camp. He kept one of them pinned through his C79, just in case the order came to tap them. It'd be easy too, he kept the man in his sight until they were outside of effective range. Then took up a covering position, sighting down a main road, as the others went into the building. He kept his weapon straight ahead, he didn't make the mistake of sweeping his weapon back and forth and thus providing a visual cue to anyone who might be looking that there is someone there. Instead he kept his eyes open, keeping his movement to a minimum, watching, moving his eyes more then his body. Nothing came, which he could felt down about. He could vaguely hear the action within. Merlin's devastating first strike and the follow up by another of the team. He smiled a little, nothing like a well oiled top tier team to mess shit up.

As the order came for himself and Wolf to move to the next building he whispered an acknowledgment into his throat mic, "Roger, Wilco." He got up from his position carefully, and motioned to Wolf with a nod. He took point. He cinched his rifle up tight to his chest, drew his Hi-Power, clicked off the safety and pulled his P-Sark off his shoulder. With a flick of the quick release catch the 4 inch curved blade popped out and locked in place. He moved his way down the street, keeping to shadow and cover. It was 40 meters but still alot of room. And wouldn't be a picnic. He hadn't gone more then ten when he heard movement. He motioned for Wolf to get down, and waited along the wall. A patrol of two walking out of a small little alley, barely large enough to allow them to walk shoulder to shoulder. He stepped in as the second man cleared the alley. He caught the rearward man with the slide of his pistol, right on the nerve coming up off the shoulder. That one nerve that will drop nearly anyone for a good few moments. He fell like a brick. The second man started to turn until Tyler stepped in, jumped off his right foot and drop kicked the man in the spine, then landed on the back of his head with the same foot. There was a soft squish as something happened to his face and the back of his skull as the heavy combat boot crunched something. The other man had fallen to his knees, Tyler swung on him and made two quick motions with his P-Sark, snick-snack. That was it. The man's throat opened up on the front with two deep cuts. Tyler finished it off with a knee to the face.

He fell into a crouch aiming down the alley they had come from. When no more motion came he motioned for Wolf to continue. He made quick work of the bodies. Burying one under a mass of garbage and refuse. It'd take some time to find under there. The other he shoved under one of the houses. That would be an interesting one. If anyone thought to look it'd take awhile to find the body. He caught up to Wolf as they got to the house.

He checked their six carefully, whispering into his mic, "Alright, so what shall we do? One back one front ma'am? Or go the front and hell or high water the place? On your mark."