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Post by Ted Manning on Mar 22, 2011 22:09:18 GMT -5
March 12th, 2011
2215 Hours
It was dark, the power in all of Los Angeles and the surrounding areas was out. Usually in a lavish Beverly Hills neighborhood you would see several sports cars parked in the driveway of the different mansions on the blocks. But now the only thing that littered the streets were the burned out shells of the multimillion dollar exotic vehicles. Fires ran rampant through most of Beverly Hills but some homes still stood intact, for the most part.
Sergeant First Class sat on the balcony of the mansion his platoon fell into. It had been 36 hours before, on March 11th when the aliens first invaded. Earlier that day their convoy came under heavy fire. They lost their vehicles, it was a goddamn miracle only three of the men were hit. For the night they took shelter in one of the expensive homes that once stood as a rising actress' home, no doubt took off when the gettin was good the day before.
Manning spit and watched the flem fall onto the hot concrete below. He removed his helmet and placed it next to him, his M-4 laying across his lap. He removed the clip, removed the bullets, counted them, and placed them back into the magazine sliding it back into place until he heard the clip. He had performed this several times as he watched in the distance as several machines flew over Downtown LA and burned it to the ground. He watched as some of the skyscrapers fell from the heavy bombardment.
His mind drifted back to the days events. Stryker, the new L.T. brought in from the 75th. He was a good man. So far he didn't make....horrible...judgment calls. His mind drifted to nightmarish things, but then again this campaign was just getting started.
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Post by Ian Stryker on Mar 23, 2011 0:19:40 GMT -5
March 12th, 2011
2215 Hours
Todays events had taken a catastrophic toll on the men. They where frightened about an enemy that seemed to never stop coming. Their numbers seemed to never end. Their air power seemed to shred the planes from the sky. Their weapons seemed to penetrate body armor like a hot knife through butter.
The radio-operator, Corporal Deacon was glued to him like underwear 24/7. They never broke radio silence, but monitored the pull out of the USMC. Their Platoon had only sustained very little Loses, which was a good thing because he didn't need more souls on his mind. The three men where taken by a few USMC Humvee's who they passed on their way to take back Beverly Hills. Stryker rubbed his eyes. 36 hours, no sleep, no fresh water; just the luke-warm water in his camel-bak. Oh this was just like his first tour in Afghan, no sleep, constant threat of attack.
" Pass the word around, NVG's on. If contact just click the radio twice and I will give orders," He said to Cpl Deacon, who nodded, causing his slightly loose Helmet to bobble on top of his head. When the Corporal took off running to pass the word around, he took a sigh of relief before moving to the nearest window to look out at the damage being inflicted on the 'city of angels'. Adjusting the 3-point sling to his M4 he would just relax a bit, removing his own MICH-2000 Helmet and attaching the chin strap to his CIRAS Tactical Vest. The radio headset seemed to just hang onto the top of his head before he would look out over the night sky.
The fumes and smoke from the burning city seemed to block out the sky. It seemed like something from the Lord Of The Rings or something. After taking in the view he would move to Manning's location. Stepping up behind him he let out a deep breath," How ya holding up, Sergeant?" He asked, waiting for a reply.
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Post by Ted Manning on Mar 23, 2011 6:38:31 GMT -5
He heard a whisper from behind him as he felt someone approaching him. He turned and watched Corporal Deacon move to him, the radio still on his back, "What's the good word, Deacon" Manning asked. Deacon had been with Manning since Afghanistan the year before.
"L.T. wants NVG's on and if you come in contact to click the radio twice." Deacon answered.
"If I come in contact I don't think i'll need to click the radio" Manning smiled.
"I think the L.T. meant..."
"I know what he meant, Deacon, I was making a joke. Go tell the others." Manning cut him off. Deacon turned and moved back into the house to tell the others the orders. The presence was not gone though. As soon as Deacon left, Manning watched as Stryker made his was next to Manning. Manning stood next to the Lieutenant.
"Doin, good L.T, well, as good as anyone can be in this situation. I mean shit, the Marines pulled out, how the fuck you let that happen." Lights of gunfire flashed in the far distance in other parts of the city, it was a war zone on their home front. "Just look at that shit, tracers are still kicking up" he turned to the Lieutenant, "That give me hope, sir, it means were still in this fight and I'll be goddamned if I give up. But the reality is all too close, this is gonna be a long campaign. We've lost good men today; Martinez, Hicks, Williams." he left the sentence open as he looked out into the night, lit by the fires as hell that stood on their front door step.
He waited for a minute in silence and then continued, "How are you doin?"
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Post by Ian Stryker on Mar 23, 2011 14:29:16 GMT -5
When Manning replied to him asking him practically the same question he would shrug before unsnapping the sling of his weapon and setting the M4 on safe leaning against the railing. " I'm good, would have preferred to have Lost no men, and not three." To Ian, a loss was a wounded or dead man. They where good men. " Last transmission I heard was, the Marines where pulling out at 2000 hours. Pretty bad when the Marines pull out before the Army does." He sighed looking out as a single Drone Collection floated in the distance.
" Although If I where running the military, i would of done things a lot differently. After all civvies where evacuated, Los Angeles would of been glassed by a 50 Megaton Nuke, then we would continue back to reclaim it." He chuckled looking to Manning with a smirk. Finding himself a comfy s pot to lean he would relax a bit, pulling the Camel Bak tube to his mouth to draw some much needed water in. Spitting a bit out he would rinse his mouth before releasing the tube from his teeth.
Deacon would soon emerge from the House, drenched in sweat, and panting." Message has been Delivered Lieutenant," He said removing his helmet slowly, " Take a breather son, " Ian told Deacon as he would bend down to place his hands on his knees and give it a rest.
" So Manning, where ya from?" He quirked a brow, pulling his M9 from the Drop Leg holster and checked it to be sure it was in working order, just to be on the safe side.
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Post by D.J. Ortiz on Mar 28, 2011 15:13:41 GMT -5
"Click the radio twice, my ass." D.J. muttered to herself. Boy, she needed a cigarette. My God did she need one. The young woman thought back to when she had her little girl, what the hell ever happened to her. The city was completely a mess, there was no doubt she survived. Her dark gaze averted to the flooring and finally got up and off of the ground long enough to pick up the small messenger bag she had looted during their travels. "Here." the Latina eyed the two men and tossed Ian the water bottle. "You look like you could use it." sneaky little Ortiz. "Fridge isn't workin' but it's better than nothin'." a small smirk on her full lips.
She had checked her weapon at least a dozen times, out of habit. The clip in, and out. In and out. Like some annoying thing a kid did in school with his pen. Clicking it up and down, up and down. She wanted to rip that pen from the person's hand and jab it into his eye back in high school. But this was a fight, a fight they'd try to win. A fight they hoped to win. But this was also a fight...her family lost.
She wasn't quite sure what the hell to do after this was over. They could rebuild the city, and change the world or some shit. But it would never be the same.
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Post by Ian Stryker on Mar 28, 2011 23:03:43 GMT -5
When Ortiz entered their little gathering he would smile and quickly snatch the bottle of water from the air. Looking to the bottle and out to the once beautiful skyline of Los Angeles. Reaching to the Kamel Bak attached to his Ciras Vest he would remove it from his body and set the bottle down on the railing near by. " Thanks," He said to Ortiz.
Screwing open the Bladder to the Hydration System he would unscrew the cap to the bottle of water and pour the contents of the bottle into the bladder. Crushing the bottle he would toss it to the ground and screw the cap to the bladder back on. " Deacon, I want an Ammo Count. " The Corporal once again nodded and took off back around the house to do an ammo count on EACH and every Soldier under Strykers Command.
Placing his hand on the Magazine to his M4 he would remove it and quickly smack it a few times with his hand. The magazine seemed in working order and also seemed to be fully loaded. He will find out soon enough. Sliding the Magazine back into his weapon he would pull the Charging handle back on his M4 and checked the chamber before releasing the charging handle.
Reaching to the Drop-Leg holster to his M9 he would remove the weapon pulling the slide back checking the chamber for a round. It was loaded. Looking around he sighed," Hell of a day huh guys?" He laughed a bit before yawning, covering his mouth before the yawn.
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Post by Gary Hoffor on Mar 29, 2011 17:36:50 GMT -5
the day was a blur for Gary. sitting frustrated at a window with his M249 open and partially disassembled. "NVG's? if i can't get this weapon up, I'm fucked!" Gary thought. using a wrench from the nearby open tool kit, Gary pulls on a piece of metal that suddenly gives way with a sharp pinging sound as it bounces off the dirty tiled floor. "shit." Gary moves to get the chunk of metal that should be the receiving bolt.
holding the metal up to inspect. he notices the firing pin is fused in the housing. With fury in his voice, "FUCK!!" and turns and throws the bolt into the nearest wall. Standing in the room, pacing in quick circles. Hands on his head. thinking desperately how to fix the bolt. But melted metal is not in his realm of repairs.
Suddenly he moves and snatches his helmet off the table next to the window. Knocking over a lamp that shed as much light as his current mood. Which is currently dark. Quickly moving through the rooms looking into each room looking for something. At the end of the hall, he finds what he was looking for. His Platoon Sargent.
"Sarge, i've got a problem, no wait, i've got a huge problem. My weapon is out of commotion. the firing pin is fused into the bolt housing." in his anxiety, Gary is walking in circles again. talking with exaggerated hand and arm waving. " I have to get back to the Humvee's. i have to get to that weapon we left on #2. My weapon took a hit just as we broke contact with those, those, things, and I have been working on it every since we got here. I just got the bolt out and sure as shit the bolt is just a useless hunk of metal now." stopping the circles to look strait at the Sargent. "I have to get that other weapon. It is the only thing I can think of. As it is, i am about as useful as a castrated bull on a farm with only 1 cow. Sorry sarge for letting the team down." Gary's large frame sags a little as he breaths a sigh of relief. "But better the weapon than me." Gary said with a little thoughtful frown.
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Post by Ted Manning on Mar 30, 2011 6:23:00 GMT -5
Manning was about to answer Stryker when a loud crash came from behind him, he turned with his M-4 raised but then heard Deacon's voice "Hoffor, you big oaf!" A smile stretched across Manning's lips as Hoffor came forward and started to explain in an overly dramatic manner the situation.
"Hoff, we can't go back, at least at this time at night. Plus, other weapon? What are you gonna carry the 50?" Manning stood and put a hand on Hoff's shoulder, "I know that when we left a couple of the casualties behind earlier that their rifles are still most likely their. Until than, here" he unclipped his M4A1 Assault Rifle and handed it to him. "Use my M4. When we get back to the ambush site from yesterday we will collect some weapons for you. Hooah?"
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Post by Gary Hoffor on Mar 30, 2011 15:29:26 GMT -5
"huh, mmm thanks" bumbling the sincere apology. Gary takes the M4 and runs a quick weapons check. "Thanks again Sarge, sorry for loosing it back there. after Iraq, i though all I had to worry about was getting killed in a car accident, or in a random drive by. Not some god awful alien from who knows where to do who knows what. it just has me rattled. but i am calm now. well, i need to get back to my window. Thanks again sarge." with a nod of his helmeted head, Gary turned from the dark room and his Plt Sgt.
Heading back down the hall to his designated OP. Gary chastised himself for breaking. He had seen bad days in Iraq, but this was different. This was on his soil, his land, his nation. Shrugging his shoulders like shucking a jacket off, Gary put the frustration behind him and started getting his head back into the game.
getting back to his window, Gary did a quick scan out the window. Nothing. then he did a quick cleanup on his gear he was working with. picking up and rolling up the green sleeve that was the repair tool kit. Closing and setting the dead M249 Saw aside. He even put the dark lamp back on the small wooded table. Gary then settled down at the window and waited.. thinking of times back home.. Trying not to notice that his eyes wanted to close. This was one long day.
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Post by D.J. Ortiz on Mar 30, 2011 20:49:01 GMT -5
Holy! A crash. Ortiz jumped slightly as she also aimed her weapon at the male and settled when she saw it was him. Chuckling at the oaf comment, the pint sized soldier nodded, holding the weapon at ease once more. "We'll rent a big bus with weapons." a small smile on her mouth. D.J. had been slightly by the balcony, but was now leaning against the door frame of the entrance to it. "You guys should at least try to sleep. Not that it means much or nothin' but it might give you more energy..." the woman paused. "For what's to come." thinking about it in a thoughtful manner as she let her dark gaze peer up at the ceiling.
"I'll take first watch. If that's...all right with you, sir?" not wanting to give out orders, but trying to be more or so a good soldier and even if they weren't supposed to, a friend. Everyone made their team their friends and family in the military. Even if you were tough as nails or made of stone, these people would have died for you. For their country. Not for a bunch of punks, or aliens or anything out there to get them.
They worked hard.
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Post by Ian Stryker on Mar 31, 2011 0:45:48 GMT -5
Looking to Hoffer as he outburst about a Melted Part to his weapon, practically making it Useless. Pushing off the Railing he would glare at the Soldier before moving back inside and come up behind Hoffer grabbing him by the scruff of the neck on his shirt. Yanking him back he would groan," Son, what is your Major Malfunction?" He quirked a brow at the soldier before Releasing him," You pull that stunt again, you might as well put a round in each and every member of this Platoon, You got me? Next time that happens... I will put a bullet in you, Hooah?" Stryker didn't even wait for his response," Keep your shit together, I don't need you screwing up the Morale of this Platoon, God Damnit."
Moving back to where Ortiz and Manning were he would rest for a moment and look to Ortiz," No I will take First Watch, you get some Rest. We move out at," He glanced at his watch and sighed," 0300, Hooah?" He quirked a brow at them smiling. " We will change watch every hour. "
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Post by Gary Hoffor on Mar 31, 2011 13:08:27 GMT -5
Straitening his BDU top, Gary casts an evil eye at the Lt.s back. "sorry dad! wont happen again, Dad! my fault Dad! Under control Dad!" Gary thought venomously about the Lt. Styker. Going back to straitening his area, sleep gone with the anger induced adrenaline. "You sure you want first, Ortiz? I'm awake now.." glancing towards the direction the Lt went. "that asshole knows how to wake a guy up." Gary finished at a mumble.
Gary looks out his window again, checking his sector, nothing. walking over to the wall where he had thrown the bolt, Gary noticed a long narrow hole in the drywall. "Wouldn't you know i would hit a void with that thing." pulling out his Surefire flashlight and his K-bar. Gary starts the search in the wall for the bolt. Thinking he can see about how he might get it working again. but to do that he would need the bolt back first.
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Post by Ted Manning on Apr 1, 2011 12:31:03 GMT -5
"I'm game for that, L.T. I could give a rats ass when I sleep." Manning removed his helmet and placed it behind his head and started to doze off. His M9 service pistol was off safety and at his side in case shit started going down. Until then, though, he would sleep. Soon the events of the day washed over him and his heart began to pump at the rhythmic speed, in tune with the explosions in the distance. He knew it and everyone with him knew it, one day they would have to take back LA. But until than, sleep. Sleep was good, sleep was calming, sleep sleep sleep.
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Post by D.J. Ortiz on Apr 1, 2011 14:53:31 GMT -5
"The f*ck is he doing?" the soldier piped up quietly, watching Hoffor off in his own little world. She muttered something in Spanish underneath her breath and leaned quietly against the door frame. "Yes, sir." nodding to him. Though she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. No one could sleep out in this mess. Too many lives were lost and too many things to worry about. It was hard to be out here, though a team made it more relaxing. The fact that they could go at any minute however didn't make it so happy clappy. She wondered what had been going through the minds of the civilians or the reporters that had been on scene and close to the beach. What they thought of when they died and who they thought of. So many people, so little time.
Those damn things had nearly wiped out all of California it seemed. The woman wanted to save Los Angeles, she really wanted to find her family, her friends. But they were probably all dead, unless some of her military friends got out.
Did it matter anymore? They'd probably all go sooner or later.
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Post by Ian Stryker on Apr 4, 2011 23:04:05 GMT -5
(OOC: I will be posting for Manning from now on since he is gone. So yeah. I will include him in my posts this post will be BLUE, mine will be RED.)
It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and stay asleep. It seemed his deep sleep came sooner than expected due to the fact his dreams came quicker than expected. His shifting in his sleep mentioned to the others that he was in deep sleep.
A groan came from his throat as he would squat down next to the window. Rubbing his eyes nice and firmly he made sure they watered up before he opened them, blinking a few times. He was absolutely exhausted but he had to keep going. Taking his weapon from his vest he would lean it against the window. this was not his first rodeo at night, his eyes adjusted rather well when it came to darkness. Blinking a few more times he would reach to his helmet and remove it. Looking over to Ortiz he would give her a once over before looking back to the front of the Mansion," Where ya from Ortiz?" He asked, wiping his nose, leaning back and relaxing a bit, his eyes going from the crater filled lawn of the mansion back to Ortiz.
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