▶ ɪɴғɪɴɪᴛʏ: ᴍɪʀᴀɢᴇ「ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ʀᴏᴏᴍ」

[Esprit]

Mihn carefully maintained a neutral expression as Agent Casanova answered questions before concluding the briefing. Not much of a plan. Though she wasn't really a strategist, it seemed likely that the INFINITY force would be at a considerable disadvantage in the upcoming battle; they lacked intelligence and cohesion, whereas the defenders were evidently well-prepared and operating on familiar terrain. She had been on the other side of such engagements before, and knew full well how much damage a small, thoroughly entrenched force could inflict upon numerically superior foes, no matter how much manpower or resources the attackers poured into the operation.

Regardless, Mihn had her orders, and dwelling on how ugly their prospects were wouldn't change anything. She mentally reviewed the advantages they did have: initiative, possibility of extraction, a diverse force composition, and the ability to resupply. Just as INFINITY knew virtually nothing about the Black Steel operatives manning the facility, so too would the enemy PMC lack intelligence on the new arrivals. The outcome, then, would probably depend more on the respective performances of the rival forces - a condition that she could easily accept, given adequately competent allies.

Her admittedly bleak musings were interrupted by a sudden outburst, and Mihn briefly looked over to Chimaera as the older NOAH inquired after the hostages. For a moment, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for the woman, who had somehow retained enough naiveté - or perhaps humanity - to care about faceless liabilities that she'd never met. Unfortunately, her appreciation was tempered by pity; Mihn had found that idealists were typically short-lived in her line of work, either burning themselves out with their own principles or, like the rest, discarding those beliefs in order to survive.

Turning her attention away from the others, Mihn stood and walked over to her equipment. She unzipped the bag, placing its contents on the table one by one: a ballistic vest, a sturdy belt with various holsters, some grenades, an assault rifle, a sheathed knife, and numerous spare magazines. The young woman slipped on the armor first, kevlar slotted with several ceramic plates, then the belt, before stowing the mags and grenades into their separate pouches. The knife went on her right leg, affixed by another belt. Mihn inspected her rifle and attachments, then clipped it to a single point sling, which hung on her right shoulder. Finally, she pulled her handgun out of its holster at her left hip, looked it over, and replaced it. Her preparations complete, the NOAH stepped out of the tent to let her eyes adjust to the descending gloom.

 

[jeshem]

​

Benjamin silently sighed to himself as the group disbanded to prepare for the assault. Even if he was ordered to assume that the hostages were already deceased, he could not help but to worry about what-ifs. Returning his attention to Casanova and the briefing, his worries continued to mount as he was informed that he and the other Infinity soldiers would be sent on a frontal assault with little to no intel. The entire thing sounded like a suicide mission, even if a large force was behind his team acting as support.

When Casanova finally dismissed the group, Benjamin was one of the last to leave, quietly standing in the back lost in thought. Finally snapping back to the present, he approached the table that the mission commander had mentioned and browsed through the various equipment and weapons on display. Acknowledging that he would finally need to pick something, he first reached for a shotgun, feeling its weight and looking down its sights as he tried to get a feel for it. A shotgun, he reasoned, would be good for breaching doors and effective against light armored personnel. Then again, the weapon felt heavy and clumsy in his hands and the spread of their shot was something he would have to take into account if there is anything he wished not to hit.

Putting down the shotgun, Benjamin's hands found another weapon more to his liking. He lifted an M16A4 rifle from the table and gave the weapon a quick inspection, rotating it in his hands as he got a feel for its weight. It was lighter than the shotgun and the single/burst fire settings made it ideal for engaging at mid to long range without having to worry about his bullets straying and striking something he did not mean to.

Having chosen his new weapon, Benjamin quickly finished up by picking up night vision goggles, a light ballistic vest, and a mixture of flash and smoke grenades. After gathering his new equipment, Benjamin left the tent, to gear up.

At dinner, Benjamin ate in relative silence and the meal passed uneventfully. Once he was finished, he headed for his tent to do a last minute check on his gear before meeting with his teammates. When he met up again with the rest of his team, he was still dressed rather light, with the only evidence that he was going into a warzone being the light body armor, weaponry, and ammunition he carried. He also had the addition of a camel pack hanging from his back in which he carried his jammers and other gadgets he thought might be useful in the upcoming assault.

 

[Valor]

Infinity Expeditionary Force
1750 Hours​

1750... only ten minutes remained until it was time for the operation to commence. The members of her team reported back in front of Tent #103 as time continued to pass. It wasn't long until all of Third Squad had been assembled. 'Punctual bunch...' the squad leader thought to herself. She was rather impressed by this, as first impressions hadn't given Casanova much faith in the professionalism of her team. Perhaps she was wrong.

"I want to make something very clear." Casanova began, walking between the members of her squad. "Each and every one of your lives are important to me. I will not tolerate any of you dying under my command. Is that understood?" Her question was entirely rhetorical, giving her team little time to respond before continuing. "Good. Let's make this quick and easy now." Casanova's confident words betrayed her thoughts: She knew that this operation would be anything BUT easy.

In the next moments, Casanova and her squad fell behind a larger group of NOAHs as the ten assault teams made their way to the far end of the camp. As they navigated through the camp, soldiers and auxiliary personnel alike ran across the hastily constructed military camp as the final preparations were being made before the official assault. There was a tense aura as the NOAHs moved out, only supplemented by the grim sight of lifeless bodies being carried through the scene on white stretchers. "Looks like more of them died…" Casanova overheard a soldier as the group passed.

Eventually, the NOAHs left the safety of the camp, jumping into the open backs of armored trucks to make the approach. Settling into a seat beside Saga Xiao, the squad leader banged on the side of the vehicle, signalling the driver to close the hatch once everybody had stepped inside. As the vehicles whirred to life, kicking into gear before making the short trek to their destination, Casanova took the opportunity to glance to the agent beside her.

"If we find hostages that haven't been killed, it will be your job to pull them to safety. Don't forget to cuff them first. Got it?" Casanova figured that since Chimaera had been the only one to express concern for the hostages, that putting them into her hands would be the best option.

Casanova was silent for the remainder of their short ride, the armored vehicles lurching to a stop. As the backs of the military vehicles drew open, squads of heavily armed NOAH began to file out of the vehicles. The sound of gunfire rang around them as Casanova immediately scanned the area. Dozens of vehicles had formed a blockade around the building - with gunfire viciously exchanging between the two sides.

As the attackers made ready, Casanova directed her team behind the other squads. Eventually, the teams stopped behind a burning armored vehicle, similar to the one they had rode in on. Behind the vehicle were several NOAHs, one curled up into a fetal-like position. It was clear that the first responders had taken quite the beating. Casanova didn't envy them, nor did she blame them for the condition that they were in.

"Idon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodieIdon'twanttodie!" Casanova ignored the boy on the ground, who looked hardly older than eighteen. "Looks like the cavalry's here." Another NOAH remarked, holding his bleeding arm with the other.

As she stopped behind the smoldering armored vehicle, a robotic voice spoke into her ear. "Casanova. Get your team in line. The assault is about to begin." Her radio bellowed. It looked like there wasn't going to be any time to get comfortable. Casanova would have preferred to take the opportunity to gain a better grasp of the situation, but it looked like things were about to get heated rather quickly.

"Understood. Squad Three is ready to begin combat operations." She turned to her team, flashing them a brief thumbs-up. "Here we go…"

Before long, the familiar roar of heavy artillery guns blared in the distance. "Smoke rounds deployed. Fire mission complete. Thirty seconds until splash." In the next few moments, the rounds made impact in the open field between the Black Steel Facility and the INFINITY teams. Large congregations of gray smoke clouded the scene, obscuring vision and veiling the giant building in a blanket of smoke.

"Alright. Let's move!" Casanova gripped the front of her automatic rifle, watching for a moment as the other NOAHs from the other teams began to trudge through the smoke. "Romanov, Vampire! You're front and center." She waved her hands, signaling for them to advance. "Move it out!"

 

[RedArmyShogun]

​

"Oh Comrade Commander, I had no idea you cared so much, I will be sure to follow this order to the best of my ability." She says sarcastically with a smile as the woman goes on with the standard prep talk, Adriana climbs aboard the armored Truck, securing a place for herself. Hunched over on a bench, the girl takes careful steps to avoid leaning on the back of the armored truck or to lay down as Casanova bumps her fist to signal all aboard, move out.

Upon reaching the field of battle, the smirking girl briefly takes on a more somber view, the first waves had taken a terrible mauling and Steel Talon seemed to have Anti-Tank weapons, or abilities at least, given that some AFV's had managed to encircle the building and the teams were able to open fire, they must have been silenced, or in the least pinned.

But the Devil was in the details, the assault had clearly failed to reach the entryway, pinned down, heavily wounded, stalemate. At least the burning wreckage didn't illuminate them all, it was but late afternoon. Chuckling at the small mercy, one soldier seemed to have broken, curled into a fetal position she had half a mind to kick him a bit into straightening up.

Catching the thumbs up from Casanova, Vampire wouldn't be able to give the needed Morale boost the soldier so desperately needed, while a shot comrade had made some sort of remark on the Calvary having arrived...they were the last remaining assault wave weren't they? Hearing the distant Thunder of guns, Adriana opened her mouth and emptied her lungs as the barrage struck home..unleashing just Smoke. "..I guess a bit of live Fire mixed in was too much to hope for?"

Watching her Commander giving new orders, they didn't come up as much of a surprise..though an unwelcomed one.. With an overly eager look to her eyes, the redhead bites unusually long canines over her lower lip, grabbing her bolt cutters in one hand, a block of Comp B is readied with a chemical detonator attached and held in the other she turns her attention to her fellow East Bloc comrade;

"Heh.. the Westerners are too soft for Stormtrooper work..would have been nice if the metal covered American went up first.." Going off to lead the charge alongside Katya, the Romanian offers a smug smile and tilt of her head as they moved into the smoke followed with a question of sorts in Russian;

"S 'nami Bog?"

God is with us?

 

[Vec]

TENT_2 PREP 1750 HOURS+

• 
  As if thinking "I told you so," Stephen let out a snort while opting to remain silent. Hearing Cassanova confirming his suspicions hadn't necessarily made him feel good, however, mainly because that meant the mission would be that much more difficult for their team.
  
  Cassanova went on to detail more of the mission and exactly what their approach would be, and let's just say, Stephen was not happy about it, not one bit. Assuming everyone dead until proven otherwise did not sit well with Stephen. It hit a special, sore spot in him because he had been in the exact same situation, held against his will until eventually being saved by UN forces.
  
  It would be around that point that Stephen would normally voice his opinion on matters that he didn't like. He felt anger slowly building up, anger mainly projected towards the higher-ups that gave out these orders, yet he managed to reel in himself. With a thump, he sat down on a stool nearby, closed his eyes and started doing some breathing exercises to calm down. Slowly everything faded out around him as he focused on his breath and the beating of his heart.
  
  Fortunately for him, he had practised this sort of thing a lot and thus was able to calm down relatively quickly. When he opened his eyes and looked around, most of the members of the team had already left or were in the process of leaving the tent. Not wanting to fall behind, and considering he hadn't exactly been paying attention to Cassanova after a certain point, Stephen exited the tent and surveyed the area. Spotting a soldier sitting on a bench a few feet away from him, his back hunched over something, he walked over, wanting to ask when exactly the assault would be starting. After getting what he wanted from the soldier, Stephen thanked him and walked away, several thoughts swirling in his mind.
  
  "Hmm, 1800 hours... I have plenty of time to finish preparing for the operation..."
• 
  The mission, while not specifically dubbed as S&R, involved hostages. Nevertheless, no matter how much Stephen wanted to help them, he also always followed through with his orders in the end. Looking inside his locker, he saw two suitcases, one large and another smaller one. Smirking, Stephen grabbed both cases and dragged them on top of a nearby table. Two passwords later, Stephen was looking over his two most trusted conventional weapons, his XM600 Sniper Rifle that could very much take out both man and machine from a distance, should it be necessary, as well as his old buddy, the KSG75 bullpup shotgun. Although an older design, this specific shotgun had gone through several iterations throughout the years in order to perfect its destructibility and ease of use. That, along with the several customizations that Stephen had made to his made it a very comfortable and reliable weapon for close ranged combat.
  
  "Exactly what I need this time around," Stephen thought. He grabbed the shotgun with a smile while glancing at his rifle; "Next time buddy," he said, closing and locking back the case with the sniper.
  
  Having picked his choice of weapon, Stephen started suiting up for the mission. Two shotgun shell belts filled with 12 gauge lead shot wound around both his shoulders, giving him a Rambo-like look, although the tac gear and kevlar underneath didn't exactly flatter his musculature as much as it would be if he went full Rambo, bare chest and all. He was a NOAH, not stupid.
  
  "Agent Rose," a cough and call for him caught Stephen's attention. "Your package is here," a serious-looking soldier walked up to him and plopped a small black box right in front of him before saluting and storming off. On the side of the box, the initials of a company were stamped in bright yellow letters, C.R.D.
  
  Stephen smiled knowingly when he eyed the initials and eagerly pried the little box open, pulling out two sleek, black armoured gloves, complete with spikes over the knuckles and a palm surface that greatly improved grip. He let out a pleased hiss as he slipped them on, clenching and unclenching his fists, the gloves being a perfect fit.
  
  "Just nice love, just nice..."
  
• 
  Stephen, just like the rest of the team, reported back to the tent they first gathered in. He got in line just as Cassanova was starting to give her final words before the official start of the operation. Encouraging words, for sure, but Stephen could discern the nervousness in the tone of her voice. He silently followed the officer and the team as they walked through the base and to the armoured vehicles that would be transporting them to the battlefield. Glancing at the soldiers running to and fro, Stephen started feeling that this operation might be the biggest one he has participated in, just from the sheer manpower INFINITY had committed to it.
  
  The journey to the field was nothing much, mainly because of the insulation the armoured trucks were covered in. However, once they had arrived and the back of the trucks drew open, the sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the interior of the vehicle, swiftly putting an end to the sweet silence. Everyone quickly moved out, Cassanova in the lead. Soon they were in positions, awaiting the signal to charge. The cries of injured NOAH and soldiers alike along with the barking of orders from officers melded in the background, creating a virtually suffocating atmosphere that soon turned into a reality as smoke rounds started dropping left and right. There was their signal; the advance had begun.
  

​

 

[Little Leo]

Lemon lollipops, Alannah always did know her favorite flavors when it came to candy. Shay is quite keen on lemon and lime in candy, strawberry as well though she wasn't lucky to get that one this time. She plucks the lollipop from her hand, even if it wasn't exactly what she meant by blood sugar. Shay tucked it away in her pocket for later consumption and nods to Alannah in agreement. "Believe me I understand perfectly." She replies, her stomach growling at the thought of more rations. Shay is not a stranger to having a fast metabolism, perhaps it's just one of the many side effects of her powers. That being said, the two went off to have dinner, Shay shoved as much food as she could into her stomach before the mission. When they separate after dinner, she gathered her clothes and weapons for the mission ahead. Shay's gear was created to be as flexible as she is, when you move quickly through the air and climb as much as her, it's quite helpful. The only downside is she does not have as much protection, but more protection would make it hard for her to work with her spines. Other than that, she quickly packs on her weaponry, making sure to have her poison grenades clipped to her belt.

Soon she is gathered with the others before it's time to go, looking over the group once again. Casanova's words rang through the tent and she is a bit amused by the fact she claimed their lives were important to her and she would not tolerate them dying. As if she could give them a punishment in the afterlife if they did die, the thought of Casanova chewing a few out of them in hell actually made Shay suppress a laugh. This is not the time for jokes, it was time to be serious, even though her thoughts betrayed her.

Shay made her way to the armored vehicles, taking in the sorrowful sight of more comrades on stretchers passing them. This is a grave reminder of what they are going into, what they are going to stop. Shay clenches her teeth a bit and glances at Alannah, quite worried about her even though she can hold her own. At times she feels Alannah is much stronger of a person than her. She shakes her head to clear her mind and gets into an armored truck with a few other Mirage agents, making their way to the site. Shay finally pops the lemon lollipop into her mouth to try to take her mind off of things and calm herself down.

It wasn't long until they stopped and filed out of the armored cars. Shay's hands started to shake, but she quickly takes deep breaths to calm down. This was not the time to have a panic attack, she needed to stay calm and protect her team's backs in the field. Shay readies her gun and watches the as rounds finally hit the ground before them. With Casanova's call, she runs forward through the smoke, making sure to keep towards the back of the group.

 

[Bismarck]

Katya shook her head as she watched the smoke billow, and was given her new role. She was to take point, alongside the Romanian. Typical of the NATO agents, to send the Russian, and her only ally up to the front of the fight. As she stepped into the smoke, she listened to her comrade, grinning a bit at some of the comments. She spoke exclusively in Russian for the time being, grinning still as she let those words flow from her lips. It wasn't often she got to speak in her purely native tongue at INFINITY. "I'm not surprised really, are you? They rarely ever want to fight. The last batch of brave soldiers to come from any of those countries, may have been during the second world war. Air support, and artillery made them soft." She expressed, guessing very few among them could speak Russian in the first place. "As for God being with us, I'd argue no, little one. However we are with NATO. So they should be hopeful for the day." She offered much more proudly than usual. Though that facade soon faded with a deep laughter.

Stepping out of the smoke, disappointment was painted over her face. Not a single shot came their way. The guard emplacements seemed empty, and generally there was little resistance as she approached the gate. Though Katya refused to let her guard down, having grown used to the brutal, guerrilla tactics of terrorists. The agent kept a slow, forward march. Her heavy machine gun sweeping in wide arcs. Looking carefully for targets, but not letting off a single round early. 12.7x108mm ammunition was bulky, so making every round count was practically a requirement. A shotgun served little use in a fight, with ranges beyond 50 or a 100 yards. "Cas, I don't mean to question leadership...but what the hell are we doing?"

Finding a decent position close to the gate, that offered some cover, the Russian set her bipod down, and took up her weapon. While she had the strength and endurance to handle the heavy machine gun, as though it were a standard assault rifle, it didn't completely fade away her tactical awareness. A little cover between her, and any potential enemy fire was well worth it. That, and Katya knew if she could contain her battle rage for as long as possible, it would be for the best of everyone around her. If she found herself caught up in the lust of the fight too early, she was likely to find herself exhausted, before the mission was over. That or Katya would likely end up wounded...and she didn't trust the NATO doctors that were back at the camp, to treat her correctly. Something told her should end up with the wrong blood type being infused, or someone might slip and administer too much of a specific drug.

"Vampire...some days I wish you carried a rifle. You make it so tempting to just run into battle with a pair of axes." She commented, as she came to a semi-resting position. Still scanning the area as her team moved forward. Machine gun ready in the event they did start taking fire, she could easily begin to return fire, blasting away at the ranks of the enemy.

 

[Snowflake]

[hr=double][/hr]
Listening to the commander speak her piece Alannah popped another lollipop in her mouth, orange flavoured by the looks of it. Command didn't care about casualties, or they didn't care about NOAH casualties, they were monsters used to fight other monsters, simple as that. If their commander wanted to play the part of someone who gave two shits that was all fine and well until the situation called on her to make the call between a few NOAH agents and the one regular human VIP or mission objective. NOAH lives rank pretty low on the scale of value to the ones calling the shots, this commander Casanova might be an idealist who wants to keep her soldiers alive but eventually, she will be given an order from someone higher up to do something she might not like. For now, at least Alannah didn't bother thinking about that too much and just stuck close to Shay with a big confident smile on her face to make it easier on the stressed-out girl beside her. As much as Alannah's cynical side hated to admit it was funny thinking about Casanova showing up in the afterlife to kick some ass, she looked the part at least.

She lifted her sunglasses as she boarded the APC and settled next to her shorter friend. Seeing Shay's distress in her eyes Alannah placed her hand on the top of Frog's head ruffling her hair a bit. "Stick close Shay, if you ever get scared just hop on my back an hold tight we'll keep each other safe, won't we? Just like last time." She winked at her and nudged her with her elbow. She scanned the faces and equipment everyone in the vehicle was wearing trying to commit them to memory, to be able to tell friend from foe in an instant. They were an odd bunch to be certain, from all walks of life and all over the globe, but as it often is with NOAHs most if not all of them soldiers. An unfortunate state that so few NOAH had peaceful lives, their accursed heritage following them. Forged for war and used for war even though those wars were long since finished.

Stepping out into the hot zone where machinegun fire changed sides was a significant change from the almost peaceful camp and calm ride in the APC. With a smirk on her face, Alannah moved the lollipop to the corner of her mouth and methodically checked her equipment one last time. Gun was loaded and cocked, her gloves fully charged and she had plenty of mags to go around. After lowering her glasses into position she continued after the rest of her group where she awaited further orders. It was a simple plan it seemed, under the cover of smoke they were going to blitz the enemy a tactic that she figured the Gryphon Division probably excelled and loved to do. She didn't argue, whether it was simple or complex so long as it worked it wasn't dumb. As soon as the order was given she rushed again staying in formation making sure to keep Shay to her side in case the came under fire.

 

[The Perfect Cadence]

Aceline kept quiet during the flight, the briefing, and the ride to the battlefield. Besides lurking in the back with her baby bottle, a distinct sssch sssch sssch sound coming from her sucking on her formula, there was nothing else worth noting about the kitty. When the briefing was over, she went to the messhall and grabbed as many cartons of milk her tiny paws would allow her plus a fillet of raw salmon. She ate and drank outside the mess tent like a cat before wandering off to the ammo dump to find herself a few more sticks of C4 and rounds for her weapons. Aceline then spends the rest of her freetime sharpening her claws and grooming herself near the assembly area.

When it came time to deploy, Aceline waited everyone to get into the truck before she climbed in and closed the lid. The reason she always did this was to allow herself a window to hop out of the truck if it came under fire.

Upon arrival, Aceline was a little bit disappointed but also surprised that not a single shot was flying across the air. Seeing the broken soldier mumbling 'Idontwanttodie', Aceline immediately crawls over to him like a cat and begins to sniff him.

"Hhhmmm... kyun~" She relieves the soldier of his grenades. "Hoh hoh hyun~!" She ransacks the soldier of everything of value from munitions to his bayonet.

Tail waving excitedly around in the air, Aceline leaves the soldier to his mumbling to rejoin her squad sticking close to Casanova who was obviously a much more delicious target for potential snipers. With nothing but scanning the horizon for enemies, Aceline takes out her baby bottle again and walking on her hind legs, begins to sssch sssch away. She finished whatever was left inside a few seconds later.

"Nnyaaaanng!" The kitty meows annoyed.
Stuffing it back into her backpack, the kitty presses forward without her precious formula.

By the time they reach the base, Aceline's mind was ready to break into her MRE to fetch the creamer for the instant coffee. The thought stopped when she realized the base was empty.

"Ooohhhh nyang! We can go home now!" She thought but her cat senses quickly kicked in to suppress her from delving more deeper.

As Katya spoke, the kitty was already flat on the ground expecting ambush fire but none came. She then joined Katya's side of the questioning.

"Hwwooo nyang... Cashanovah... why did you bring me out of my coshy home to fight an enemy that has already deserted their positions nyung~?"

 

[jeshem]

​

While the ride to the battlefield was short, it could not have been longer for Benjamin. He may be a fighter, or a killer when needed, but he was certainly no soldier. Every assignment he had received up to now relied on silence and deceit, not firepower and body armor. As the truck continued its approach for the war zone, he tried to distract himself by checking and rechecking his gears and weapons. Every once in a while, though, he still needed to stop to wipe his palms on his jeans.

When the doors of the truck finally opened, Benjamin silently followed his team out onto the field. He was thankful that Casanova was sending two of the scarier individuals to lead the charge though he couldn't resist chuckling in agreement with the large Russian.

"I, for one, completely agree," Benjamin replied to the Russian in her own language. "I have absolutely no desire to be here right now. I never thought I'd say this but I think I prefer being stabbed in the back than getting shot in the face."

Looking down, he saw the cat girl relieving a curled up NOAH of his equipment. While he approved of the looting, that NOAH certainly wouldn't be needing it, he could not help but to shake his head upon seeing her tail flicking around.

"I'd keep that tail under control if I were you. It could give your position away to snipers and that's if it doesn't get shot off first."

Following his team through the smoke, Benjamin imitated Katya's lead to seek cover until he was sure that the entire area up to the facilities walls had been blanketed by smoke. Once he was sure, he slung his rifle onto his back and made a break for the wall, using his ability to build up speed as he "skated" across the ground. He did not slow down upon reaching the wall but instead launched himself upwards, clinging to the wall and using his momentum to "slide" himself up the wall. He carefully slowed his ascent and silently crawled along the wall until he was below one of the windows. From where he was, it would be very unlikely for a potential sniper to notice him, and shooting him at this range would be a completely different challenge for them. Pressing more of his body against the wall to steady himself, he pulled out his hand gun and prepared to give any sniper that popped up a nasty surprise.

 

[marcy]

​

Klaus continued to load his magazines as questions and answer went back and forth between crew and commander. The swede wasn't so used to being apart of such large operations, at least not prior to his time with INFINITY. He hadn't served a day in the military and was glad to have parted ways with his homeland so early on, their bureaucratic military policies offering little to no incentives for aspiring soldiers. No, this wasn't his cup of tea. His modus operandi entailed subtlety and precision, often with little to no backup whatsoever. He was more so a mercenary than anything, but money wasn't the objective. It was something beyond himself he sought after and fought for, almost as if he were programmed to do so. He could not fathom any other life to live.

From the sound of it, they were to be cannon fodder. Typical. The swede remained silent as always, after all he had his own agenda to see through. The briefing was clearly nothing but a formality. Watching Casanova file through assortments of papers, he couldn't help but think the sight made it evident the operation was a mess. The idea that they had to assume hostages were dead and go in guns blazing lead Klaus to hypothesize there was clearly something of upmost value in that facility they couldn't afford to obliterate, otherwise this was nothing some drones couldn't handle. Casanova affirmed this, apparently there being valuable intel within the facility. Still, he wouldn't dare throw someones life away for it. Anyone that claimed there would be no other choice could bite him and stay out of his way.

Klaus loaded his mag into his second glock as Gyi addressed him as Chocolate Boy. All he heard really was candy bar and stood up, holstering his pistol as he crossed towards the Burmese who he had grown to respect as a capable fighter during his time spent with the NATO organization. He had mostly lost his appetite earlier in the day watching teammates being gunned down, but Gyi's insects served to be a novelty kind of thing. It was comforting to know the guy who could surround him with dozens of pissed of hornets was on his side and he promptly plopped a couple crickets into his mouth, chewing them thoughtfully. "Like peanut butter." He had a few more.

As everyone lined up ready for battle Klaus nearly chuckled as Casanova addressed the team. He couldn't help to feel that INFINITY commanders were just glorified babysitters, this stemming from his lack of traditional military discipline.

If the ride to battle was tense for anyone it wasn't for the swede who was almost bored. The sight of more bodies being carried into camp affirmed the idea they were to be cannon fodder and this irritated him. His group was diverse, sure. Unorthodox? Definitely. Weird? Affirmative-he couldn't stop glancing at the cat girl. But anyone willing to pick up a gun and fight for their country or some positivist ideal well, it was hard to respect but he did anyways, still this was conflicting. Not respecting the enemy was hypocritical, they fought with the same determined fervor under the impression it was for some better purpose or another. The whole thing was a shitshow but if he didn't at least think about what he was doing that would make him less of a man, more of a weapon. He had nearly forgotten it was Blacksteel they were fighting and chalked that up to the drinking. With that, he was ready for battle. Good lives were at stake, the coming fight meant to be all in a days work.

Smoke in the air and MK 18 at the ready, Klaus gradually proceeded north east from their position so as to extend their perimeter, peering through his reflex throughout the surrounding dunes in search of potential snipers. Despite the sound of thundering gunfire echoing across the sky moments ago, it took a little while to notice how eerily silent the facility suddenly was which lead him to take a prone stance, a feeling that he was being watched suddenly coming over him.

He watched Benjamin skate across the sand and kept his sights trained on the American, so as to provide covering fire until he quickly glanced at the rest of his teams positions. Seeing as the Russian was hunkered down ready to return fire, Klaus pulled himself up into a crouching position before exploding into smoke and disappearing. In an instant he was crouched just below Ben, so as to provide immediate backup and possibly teleport the both of them away from the facility should something unexpected occur.

 

[BioshockRP]

[Tabs][/Tabs]​

Front of Tent 103 Armored Truck Battlefield

• 
  
  Ears heard the drivel, the pattern; the equipped tongue set into its O's and P's. With each letter, the clack of foot followed forth in combination. Nothing less expected presumed Conrad, as his eyes attentively tracked his leader's movements. He wanted to answer her question, but diminished the thought, once she engulfed another shotgun round of dialogue into his eardrums. Upon receiving the signal, Conrad cleared his area for a forward, swift march to the camp's end.
  
  As sand began to fill his soles, his muscles tensed due to the gruesome sight of dead NOAHs on stretchers. Still, Conrad remained battle hardened as his past duties strengthened his stomach alongside his powers. No vomit dared to seep itself out, especially from the mouth of Conrad. Yet solemn, grim words that described the death of the soldiers poked at Conrad's heart. He kept to Baseball; the swing, the batting, and mostly the running. Yes, he sped his march, but not so much to overpass his frontward brother-in-arms. Then, his sapphire eyes gorged on the armored trucks that shaded his blonde hair.
  
  
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  The romance between man and machine: Manifest destiny. No wait, Conrad stopped his thoughts, for the prior transportation entity incurred from horses. However, the metallic drum of the tires sported a similar horse clop, if it became magnified in amplitude. Nevertheless, his moment; Conrad's destiny, started in the truck. His fellow team members soon joined him in the pursuit to their objective. Before resting himself in a chair, he dropped his supplies off in the nearest container.
  
  "What keeps the planet spinning, Conrad," demanded a woman in daft, darkened, and camouflaged gear. Conrad boomed with teeth in positive rupture, "Momentum!" As his neck twisted to have his eyes encircle the woman's appearance, he rang those words within his area. His neck bulged with the shift, veins popped, while his pupils caught the gal's black hair, and single mole. Immediately, he put her voice to the appearance, "Kayla. I didn't expect you here. Heck, with the vehicle in gear, I'm surprised to hear anything from you. You used to be so shy." She ignored the formalities, instead focusing on answering her own question, "Y-yes momentum, but more importantly angular momentum. I've seen how you fight, you stupid oaf." Angrily, Conrad cracked his knuckles, barking at the woman, "Shut up! You seemed to have gain an ounce of balls too. So what, I ain't gonna fucking move this body for the Earth." In that instance, he prepped his fists, almost in a stance.
  
  Heating her hair, the ventilation removed a ribbon, which landed itself oddly onto Conrad's mustache. Now, the blonde stache equipped itself in a purple ribbon, resulting in a piggish-snort laugh erupting from Kayla's mouth. "You bitch, a sneak attack! It seems the wind blows in your favor," wretchedly exclaimed Conrad, while he removed and discarded the ribbon into his pocket. Suddenly, she stopped her laughter ordering, "Hey! Give it back!" He remarked, "Only, if you come back alive. Make sure Thomas is doing well, you got that. And I'll take care too. Your point, angular momentum, nature, physical laws; it's bullshit to me. But I appreciate it, you fucking nerd." According to the other soldiers' in the room, they simply ignored the sight, realizing that the broad Conrad may require their presence should they interrupt.
  
  
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  Once the truck ceased into position, Conrad quieted himself, not bothering to peep his mouth in the situation. He didn't consider a goodbye, nor a good luck, for the battle filled his mind. War, the proving point, the way he illustrated himself as a firm supporter to the United States. Shall a magic trick fall yet again into his firm hands, or would a miracle, maybe a blessing by God deem him worthy. Whatever, he finished in his mind, now or never. And so, his hands gripped his equipment, as he exited the vehicle. Even in his focus, he cried out, "Hoorah!" A battle cry to steel his nerves, and hopefully instill encouragement to his brethren.
  
  Bang, bang, and another bang; continuous, sometimes intermittent, but always persistent. He wanted desperately to join the fray, and to save those caught in the chaos, but no, he waited, for a soldier stays diligent to their commander. Such a scene, similar to any other, but still left a disgruntled taste in the eyes that encountered the brunt of the senses. The burning tank, the poor young soldier, the deaths, and the gunfire, such a melody tainted into a nightmarish amalgamation. With his assault rifle set close in march -- the gun on his hand, shoulder, and arm; he held his breath in anticipation. He muttered, "Terrorist scum..."
  
  Hatred solidified itself into every fiber of his bone and muscle. Quaking his boots in a gallop, his march's sound increased by the concrete roads. He steadied himself ready, clenching his exo-suit's exterior with his free hand, and his other hand around the rifle. Now, he awaited the order, the simple lines that distinguished himself from non-combatant to someone worthy. Then, smoke encroached the air, immersing the building and its surroundings. His eyes adjusted quickly due to his power, alongside the aid from his exo-suit. Once he heard the order, he clashed into battle.
  
  In a formation, he kept to the front, charging forward, as his allies provided suppressive fire. Compared to others, his ability allowed him regeneration, so it only made sense for him to continue in the thick of battle. Yet, he understood his human limitations, so he stayed close to the group. As his position progressed forward, he fired at the enemy. In his mind, he realized the complications of warfare, and how in the end, war breeds death, but his thoughts pestered him with hate and revenge. In order to avenge his comrades, he needed to kill, so he provided no mercy, or emotion to the enemy. As if going through motions, his body in complete balance, the momentum never terminated; he shot, he killed, he reloaded, he marched, he ducked, he analyzed, and he communicated.
  
  A few times, he felt the brunt of the bullets enter his suit, and sometimes bruising his skin. It reminded him constantly, the pain, although minor, of his brethren. Each wound, and every enemy added coal to his heart, furthering his ambitions into glorious, heated passion. The smoke that poured endlessly from his rifle's chimney, an extension of himself. In his judgement, the Doom Wrecker awakened, and oh, how he wanted to wreck doom upon the enemy.