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Intel reports indicated the current enemy was a splintered band of guerilla fighters who were known to be holding the area, along with terrorising the conservationists and rangers safeguarding the Antarctic region. The changing state of the world had led to a desperate resource struggle, something which neither of the richest & most powerful nations was devoid of. However, some had taken it upon themselves to do whatever they could for survival, even if it was disregarding the Antarctic Treaty, set up many years before. Such was the case; these guerilla factions were setting up mineral mining facilities, for oil and the like – direct violations of these treaties. This was on top of their blatantly obvious military activity, another violation of the treaty, evident with the removal of anyone in their way, with whatever means.
Sergeant Dale Martin; formerly a member of the United Kingdom Royal Marines, had been recently recruited to the PEU, or the Polar Expeditionary Unit. A force reconnaissance unit specialized for deployment in the Polar Regions; they were a multi-national organization consisting of various SF operators recruited worldwide. Despite the prohibition of military activity, an exception had to be made with such an incident, and their presence had only been allowed under the strict conditions of minimal disturbance to their natural surroundings. They were here to fix the situation, not make it worse.
50-100 men were reported. The objective was to probe and recon the area, along with peacekeeping duties.
They stacked up towards the opening. It had earlier been sighted by a fellow squadmate in the ground.
“Martin, take point” whispered the squad leader.
It was Master Sergeant Robert Fielding, formerly of Delta Force.
Dale packed away his HK416 and climbed down. It was a slightly larger fall than he initially expected. The rest of the squad followed through. He looked around. It had the appearance of a technologically enhanced igloo, with designer furniture and gadgets lying around.
Dale’s ears picked up something. It sounded like footsteps.
WHOOSH!
An RPG came flying through the middle of the room and smashed into the wall, the explosion scattering the entire squad. Shortly, small arms fire began to fill the area.
“AMBUSH! FIND COVER!”
The squad tore out their weapons and fired back, taking cover behind the many shelves of furniture. He was the only one on the left side, while the others took cover on the right side. Dale tore out a grenade from his vest and lobbed it to the center, rocking the room as it exploded. A grenade landed near him. As he scurried away to keep his distance, it detonated. His senses were stunned, and he could hear his heart thumping. He looked down. The floor was cracking up. It gave way to his weight, and he fell, leaving the gunfight behind. As he landed, he lost consciousness, the debris knocking him out.
His eyes crawled open. Dale found himself lying on the ground, wood and concrete debris scattered around his body. He looked at himself. His assault rifle was gone, probably left behind during the action. At least he still had some feeling in him. He got up, dusting himself off at the same time, and instinctively, went for his radio.
”Charlie Kilo, this Foxtrot Uniform, do you copy?”
Silence. He tried again. Still nothing. Dale muttered an expletive underneath his breath and pulled out his Benelli M4 shotgun. As he looked around the room he had landed in, he found a peculiar looking device. It seemed to have a short manual attached to it, and he skimmed through it. He picked it up and strapped it to his vest.
Never know when it could come in handy.
As he walked out the nearest exit, two gunmen ran towards him. They opened fire with their G36 rifles, albeit, with miserable accuracy. He found some cover behind a collapsed table, and fired a 12 gauge buckshot round, instantly neutralizing one. The other one still remained. As he stayed behind cover, he pulled out his USP.45 and fired rounds behind the wall concealing the gunman. As he took cover, Dale began sneaking towards him against the wall, and quickly span his weapon around, firing a shot into the enemy’s chest.
As he progressed up the corridors of the igloo, he was confronted by an even larger mass of heavily-armed guerillas. He nervously stepped back behind some cover, but they had already seen him. As they opened fire, he pulled out the device he had originally picked up.
Think fast.
He separated the device with ease. It seemed that one component was some kind of detonator, and the other… it was time to find out. He pulled out another grenade, and as they took cover from the explosion, Dale peeked out and lobbed the small device, resembling a car key with iron grooves.. It dug itself into the ground, and beeped with a red light.
Time to see what this toy does.
He pulled out the detonator, and pushed the button.
BOOM!!!
The group of men had been dispersed, and most were dead. The same could’ve been said with most of the wall. As Dale looked out, he could see the rest of his squad fighting more enemy. But they had ample support this time. Airstrikes and artillery. Nice.
“Charlie Kilo, do you copy!”
“Loud and clear, Foxtrot Uniform! Get your ass up here!”
His squad leader turned around and put his thumbs up.
As Dale sprinted over, he picked up the small explosive that still seemed to be intact.
It was time to continue the fight.
Edited by deltaepsilon, 23 February 2009 - 06:57.
