Story Bravo Objective: pt 1: Induction

Bravo Objective: Pt 1: Induction.



Transport ship Whiskey three-eight, Somewhere in remote Alaska. . .


Bacca grabbed a strap hanging from the small transport ferrying them to the training field. It was nowhere near a full sized carrier, nor the gunship that had carried Bacca and a small team of Bravo operatives through the night to a container ship in the Baltic Sea, nor the one that had extracted him and Snail from Vietnam, where half of Bravo team had been wiped off the map from a single mortar strike.

That had been three months ago, and since then. Bacca had been hard at work recruiting, screening, and training new Bravo team soldiers. He looked back past him and stood up on a munitions crate so that he could cast his words over the heads of the soldiers.

“Alright, listen up! I will NOT be repeating myself under any circumstances. Understood?”

“Hoorah!” they called back. They were eager, many of them fresh out of the marines or army.

“I think they understand sir.” One of the pilots called back. Even though Bacca was only a sergeant, they still treated him with the utmost respect. And all soldiers did the same to the pilots. Who knew which pilots would be piloting which transport? If a pilot liked you, he might put in the extra effort to land in the middle of a firefight to pull you and your mates out. If not, you were screwed.

Whiskey Three-Eight set down on the airstrip at InterSpec Com's top secret training facility. It had state-of-the-art triple A guns, as well as artillery, and a fearsome array of anti-ground units, including missiles. Anyone who entered the facility’s airspace, or surrounding terrain could, at the senior officer’s discretion, be removed from existence, no questions asked.

“Form up!” Bacca ordered, and the twenty recruits formed two lines of ten, both facing towards him.

“Barracks are over there, armor over there. You are not permitted out of the barracks until I myself or a higher ranking officer orders you out. Got it? Because you can be shot for snooping around here.”

Several recruits gulped, then nodded their assent

“If anyone wants out, now is the time.”

No one moved a muscle. Not even a lung.

“Good. You are now Bravo trainees, and have access to the armory, firing range, mess, and quarters areas. Line up, and retrieve your security cards. In time, these will be changed to hand prints. Feel free to use the firing range to sharpen your skills. We have every weapon imaginable, minus ordnance and explosives, and we do not judge people by their weapons preferences. That is a fast track straight out of Bravo Team. Understood?

“Hoorah!”

“Dismissed.”

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One of the new recruits, nicknamed Maf, walked into the barracks and picked a bunk down at the far end of the quarters area. It would probably be better to stay away from all the conflict bound to happen between the other recruits.

Another one of the recruits set up on the bed across from Maf.

“Hello.” he said sheepishly.

“My name is Light.” Light introduced. He was skinny without being skeletal, but muscular without being a mountain. Somewhere between built and lean. Black combat fatigues made him subtly imposing.

“Maf.” Maf extended his hand and shook Light’s.

“Well, seeing as there isn’t a lot to do around here, shall we take some time on the firing range? I think it would be good to gauge a possible teammates skill.”

“Sure.” Maf was skeptical about entering an area with a soldier, possible dangerous, whom he had never met or dealt with before. Still, the firing range was practically the barracks armory.

“Awesome! Let’s go.”


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In just the past two hours on the range, Light and Maf had already become good friends. Light was an artist with a Barret .50 Cal and a master of handheld explosives particularly flashbangs. Maf, on the other hand, was a monster with his Spas 12 and suppressed M9, and could work his way into any position using stealth, no matter the climate, location, or time.

Currently, Light and Maf were busy working their way through a simulated combat scenario. They were supposed to find and eliminate a team of eight sentries, work their way into a warehouse, set explosive charges, and make their way out.

The Combat Immersion System, or CIS, was a neural interface that could write a picture into the user’s mind, and let them walk through it, manipulating it however they chose. In the case of Light and Maf, it was removing the sentries from their posts.

“Contact, left window.”

“Got him.” Light whispered, and shot him with his Barret. A suppressed Barrett .50 Caliber rifle was loud, even with a sound and flash suppressor in place of the muzzle brake, but the storm pouring rain down on the tundra covered it quite nicely.

“Confirmed. Moving.” Maf continued to creep his way forward along a brick wall, Spas at the ready. He had a suppressor screwed on the end of the Spas as well as his M9, and was willing to use either. Because the night was so dark, he had a NV/T mask slipped over his face. It combined night-vision goggles with thermal, which would prevent Maf from seeing anything that wasn’t a certain temperature or above in thermal, but in night vision instead.

“I’m at the door. Move up.” Maf called out over the comm line.

“Moving.”

Three minutes later, Light had joined Maf at the side entrance to the warehouse.

“In three. Three, two, go go go.”

Like a well oiled machine, they rushed through the doorway, Maf first, with Light raising his Python to take aim towards a guard who had possibly seen them enter. Maf struck first though, raising the Spas 12 to send a slug round rocketing through his chest, shortly followed by another one. He then turned to the guard that Light had been aiming at, and took him out before Light could react. Maf then slid behind a pillar. Light ducked behind a box.

“Almost clear. Three contacts inside. Flash and kill.”

“Roger. Flashing.”

One of Light’s favorite weapons, besides the Barret .50, was flashbangs. Flashbangs could be placed within enemy ranks to cause maximum destruction, while leaving hostages relatively unharmed.

Light crept up a stairwell, with maf climbing a ladder up to the platform where the two hostages were on their knees. Maf looked to Light and counted down from three using hand signals.

Light’s flashbang flew right into the middle of the group, and exploded. Automatic systems in both Light and Maf’s helmets darkened the tinting and cut all external audio to protect them from the effects of the flashbang. Light was already climbing up off his stomach, pumping Python rounds into one of the terrorists. He was blown backwards when the third round hit him, then Light sent his last three rounds towards another of the terrorists. The first hit him in the hand, the second grazed his ribs, and the third missed entirely.

Light now had no ammo left in his Python.

The terrorist raised an AK-47 only to take a shot slug full in the chest from Maf, still crouched behind the pillar, sliding more shells into his gun.

“Almost out. Got anything?”

“Sorry, buddy. Wait, here.”

Light retrieved a couple of the AK-47s and threw one to Maf. Maf clipped the Spas into webbing on his back, dropped the magazine out of the assault rifle, retrieved a new one from the floor, and then they both started searching for more weapons and ammunition once they freed the hostages.

Light checked his ammunition for his Python, and found that he only had one moon clip left. He loaded that in, then retrieved a Desert Eagle from one of the munitions crates, along with three magazines.

Maf raised a radio and called in the transport ship. “Authorization code Charlie Romeo Omega Whiskey 189.”

“Confirmed. Extraction is on its way.”

Well, pinging a radio signal right out of the warehouse with terrorists still in it wasn’t exactly a textbook decision. Bullets began to rip their way through the air around Maf and Light, and through the crates around them that they had quickly arranged in a defensive formation.

Maf popped up over one of the crates to spray rounds out of his AK-47 like a hose towards a few of the terrorists, taking one down, and causing the other to shriek in pain and jump behind a column.

Light began to yell into his comm set. “Extraction, where the hell are you? We’re getting torn apart down-” and that was as far as he got before minigun fire tore through the ceiling of the warehouse.

The miniguns, with a fire rate of three thousand rounds every minute, and fifty rounds per second, toe the assaulting terrorists into bloody pieces. Within seconds, the only sound was the labored breathing of Light and Maf, whimpers of scared hostages, and the clicking and cooling of hot AK-47 barrels.

Maf and Light exited the warehouse, and watched the transport ship touch down on the asphalt of the parking lot of the warehouse. They stepped onto the transport, and then passed out

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Light and Maf awoke coughing, and the tubes that encased the users of the CIS system while they were in their simulation opened, and a voice called out to them.

“Interesting.”

The two stumbled out of the tubes, disoriented, and found Seargent Bacca standing with his arms crossed, stroking stubble on his chin, staring at a data screen on the wall that was replaying key points of Maf and Lights simulation. They stared quizzically at him, wondering what the hell he was doing here at 0200 hours on a Saturday morning.

“You two,” he began, turning to face them. “Are a couple of the best operatives I have ever seen go into a simulation.”

Light’s jaw almost dropped through the floor. It was high praise from Bravo Team One’s sergeant. “Er, thank you sir?”

“You are most welcome son.” He raised an eyebrow towards Maf. “Why a Spas-12?”

“Its. . .”

“Versatile? I’m aware. You showed me that by using a suppressor on it. I was surprised.”

He then glanced to Light. “You ran at that terrorist spraying from your pistol instead of stopping to take aim. Why?”

“I didn’t want him to start executing hostages, and attempted to confuse him.”

“I see. Well, you two have some serious skill for new recruits. Where are you from back round wise, exactly?”

Light and Maf glanced at each other. Light began by saying, “I’m a former Navy SEAL sniper.”

“Marines.” Maf answered.

“And where exactly would you like to be stationed within Bravo Team?” Bacca inquired.

Light’s heart lept into his throat. He was no longer disoriented from the CIS system, and his mind was racing. “Bravo Team One, sir.”

Bacca nodded slowly, and looked to Maf.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think I’m sure. I would like to help Light get into Team One, but after that, I don’t think I know.”

Another slow nod. “Okay. Head back to barracks, and get rested. Everyone has tomorrow off.”

“Yes, sir.”


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Maf and Light were surprised when the door to the recruit barracks area opened, and everyone present jumped up when Bacca entered the room to snap off a salute. Maf’s pieces for his M9 he had been cleaning fell to the floor from his lap as he rose same with Light’s sniper scope.

To surprise them further, after Bacca saluted back towards everyone, he, followed by a tall and lean soldier that could only be a Team One operative bypassed everyone to walk down to where Maf and Light were bunked. At their furthermore extended astonishment, he bent over to pick up Maf’s stripped down M9 and return it to his storage box at the foot of his bed, and hand Light his scope.

“You are the two that I met yesterday, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Grab your things. You’re moving barracks.”

Light and Maf rushed to follow his orders, and soon they were dragging their storage chests on their wheels to follow Bacca through the hallways of the compound.

At the end of one of the hallways, he put his palm to the scanner, and then his eye to a camera. Locks clicked and alarms beeped, and he pushed the door open. He then stood beside it and waved the two in. Their jaws dropped when they realized where they were.

“Welcome to Bravo Team One, boys. Your bunks are at the far end. Make yourselves comfortable.”


THE END


These characters were based off of the information received by @TheMafias , @Lightwielder, @907BaccaFTW, and the anonymous Team One member by @MR_EVIL_OVERLORD , who will be featured in Part 2.


Your thoughts are appreciated, and there will be Part 2 following soon. Thanks!

 

Thanks bro, in Pt 2 I have a couple weapons changed for you and light, including me. Also some changed for Evil to make the story fit a bit more. I want this to feel more realistic instead of a fictional team war like Skyfall, which is still awesome. Please dont hurt me light u r amazeng.

Hoping this catches the eye of Putty, would be honored to be the sponsored literature author this month. Probably be light again though, seeing as Skyfall is more popular.

 

Thanks bro! You play a big part in Pt 2, which I am working on finishing.