Book Marksman 2: Chapter 5: Deployment.

Marksman 2: Chapter 5: Deployment


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Xavier looked up as Soulless entered the meeting room. The center of the large room was dominated by a rectangular table with several chars around it. Glasses of water were already poured, but the chairs sat empty.


The gray haired girl who was Xavier's bodyguard lounged in a hair nearby, cleaning her Sig Sauer P226. Now that she was dressed in combat boots, gray winter camouflage cargo pants and a gray T-shirt, Soulless could tell she was around twenty years old. Twenty-two probably. Soulless himself was thirty-four.


Soulless wore the same uniform as the girl, and Xavier was dressed in a black suit with a red tie. “Hello Soulless." He greeted, going through a set of files. “Please, sit."


Soulless drew back a chair and lowered himself into it. The girl met his eyes for a moment, silver eyes meeting his bright blue, before she flicked her attention back to her P226.


“I have a mission for you." Xavier said, flipping a file closed and placing it off to the side.


“What's the job?"


“There's an oil rig in the Atlantic that has been seized by eco-terrorists. The platform is owned by ExonMobil, and they recently moved it to operational status. Prior to the oil rig's construction, ExonMobil received several warnings from an extremist group telling them not to build the platform. Of course, the company disregarded these warnings, and construction began."


Xavier stood. “You will be inserted by helicopter with a scuba rig. You have access to any gear you need. A rainstorm is moving in, and the water will be cold. Nighttime op."


Soulless also stood. “When do you need me ready to go?"


“One hour. Mission is to retake the the platform and rescue any survivors, if there are any. These terrorists are well funded, well armed, and well trained. You are to engage with extreme prejudice."


The gray haired girl stood, sliding the barrel and recoil spring back inside the slide of the handgun. Sliding the slide assembly back onto the chassis of the gun, she cycled the slide to secure it, dry fired the handgun, slid a magazine up the magazine well, and cycled the weapon again, loading a round. Swiftly, she holstered the weapon on a thigh holster.


It all happened in less than eight seconds.


“Good luck Soulless." Xavier said.


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Spectre base, Alaska

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Evil walked into the barracks area, setting his FN P90 outfitted with a suppressor on his bunk, and removed his helmet. Then placing a hand against the bunk, he leaned against it, mind thinking.


He was still dressed in his CQB gear, having just gotten off the van and into the base. He reached into one of the pouches on his assault vest and, glancing around to make sure no one was around him, pulled out the patch he had found in the house.


The thing was crusted with blood, and singed on one side. A simple blood test would confirm who the blood belonged to, but Evil had to be careful. If he was going to be sure that Soulless was alive, then he had to do it off the books. Even though Spectre Division was all about off the books.


Evil heard footsteps, and dropped the patch back into the pouch it had come from. Titanium entered the room, followed by Dark. “You've got to see this." Titanium told him.


Evil exited the room, following the brothers. Rock was standing, arms crossed in his CQB armor, watching a TV screen. Evil focused his attention on it.


A CNN broadcast was running, featuring an image of an oil platform. The female news anchor was already speaking. “...ExonMobil has not yet released a statement, nor asked for assistance with the matter. The U.S Army is fast at work preparing for an assault on the platform to retake it from these eco terrorists, but it is feared that they will be too slow to save the remaining lives on the platform."


The broadcast image changed, and the anchor moved on to the next topic. “What was that all about?" Evil asked.


“Eco terrorists making a bold move in the Atlantic. Attacked an oil platform, killing any of the security guys resisting and taking the workers hostage. Might be a spot for us to find our mystery mercenary." Rock said, referring to the hitman they had been assigned to tracking. The hitman was suspected to be a former Spectre operator, and they couldn't have people running around with knowledge of a highly secret multi billion dollar black ops program.


“Are we being sent in?" Evil asked.


“Nothing from Random yet, but I'd be prepared to roll out."


Evil nodded, still thinking.


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The helicopter hovered over the thrashing waves for a moment, and Soulless, donning his scuba mask, jumped in. The icy Atlantic water hit him like a truck, but he washed it off.


Kicking his feet, he went deeper under the surface of the ocean. There was a flash of lightning, but he heard none of the thunder.


“Kilo 2-1, comms check."


“Kilo 2-1 copies." Soulless said into his microphone past the breathing gear.


“You're two and a half klicks out from the platform. Head straight ahead at 12 o'clock." The drone operator told him. Mendosa always kept drones in the sky on their operations, for tactical support.


“Copy." Soulless responded, kicking his legs in the direction of the oil platform.


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The oil platform loomed large as over Soulless as he surfaced quietly, raising his grappling hook launcher. There were lights shining out from the platform down into the water, but Soulless was clear of their beams.


He fired the grappling hook. The anchor soared up through the air and over a railing. He yanked on the line, dropping the launcher, which began to promptly sink to the bottom of the ocean. He had no use for it now.


He hit the release on his oxygen tank and rebreather kit, which also fell off his back and began to sink. He grabbed the line in his hand and began to haul himself up, foot by foot.


Eventually, arm muscles burning, he reached the platform, and hauled himself up.


He landed on the platform and leaned against the wall of a shipping container, breathing hard. Then, he looked up.


A man lay dead, back against the wall of anther shipping container in front of him. His chest was riddled with bullet holes, and the man's rifle and handgun were missing. He had been a security guard at the platform.


Soulless grabbed his Springfield .308 rifle off where it hung at his chest. The rifle was outfitted with a suppressor and unmagnified red dot acog scope. He checked the magazine. 20 rounds, with four extra magazines. Reaching into his hip, he also checked that his Glock 19 was in place. Seventeen rounds in the magazine. Suppressor on the barrel.


He was ready to go.


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“We have no idea at this time if the Coast Guard will be deploying to the oil rig." Random said. Evil shifted uneasily in his chair facing Random.


“What are we doing to monitor the situation then sir?" Evil asked.


“We have a Predator overhead scanning the deck. We should be getting an update soon." Random sat down in his seat back where he had been sitting. “In the meantime, I wanted your opinion on something."


“And what's that?"


“Omega is by all means our best squad of Spectre operatives. You were working in the DMZ, and the President has grown tired of poking at North Korea and their IAI mercenary buddies. He wants to lay down the hammer."


“We are losing men that we wouldn't be if we just made a push for Pyongyang and took out their leaders. Or, we could do it the easy way and start an assault so their government evacuates their civilians, then wipe the city off the map." Evil suggested.


“That's the thing." Random said. “South Korea wants the city intact. They want to make one undivided Korean Peninsula."


Evil sighed. “If you want to win a war, you have to use a little brute force."


Random chuckled. “Ironic coming from the guy who specialized in surgical accuracy, anti-terrorism operations, and hostage rescue."


“Very." Evil stretched. “We can do it Iraqi-style. Move into the city. Go house to house seizing arms, ammunition, and killing hostiles. Then, once we reach where all their leaders are, we lay siege and pick off their guys. Get an assault team on scene, then standard breach and clear."


“Who would we use to complete this assault?" Random asked.


“Bring in the Navy and Air Force. Bombard fortified positions, pillboxes, et cetera. Then send in Special Forces. The Marines weren't making any sort of push because of the politicians ordering them, and we know that Special Forces is beyond their reach. We can roll through Pyongyang like a freight train."


Random nodded. At that time, the door to his office opened, and Dark entered. “Drone feed is up in the Ops room."


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Soulless crouched behind the crates of supplies. Two guards were on watch. The rain had slowed a little, but it still poured down. He hung the .308 rifle from his sling and drew the Glock 19. The two guards were approaching across the deck, dressed in jackets, balaclavas, cargo pants, and combat boots carrying Springfield Armory Saint AR carbine rifles. Chambered in the .556 NATO/.223 Rem cartridge, it could fire rounds at a moderate speed in the hands of an amateur. Soulless didn't want to find out what it could do in the hands of a professional.


He stepped out of cover. Firing four shots, two for each guard. They dropped like stones. He advanced, dropping the Glock 19 into its holster and grabbing the .308 rifle. He advanced towards another section of supplies.


He spotted a guard leaning against a railing, looking out into the thrashing Atlantic waters. Soulless crouched and sighted, firing a shot through the guard's ribcage. He guard took the shot and stumbled, dropping his submachine gun, trying to hold himself up with the railing. Soulless fired another shot, and the guard was dead before he hit the deck.


Soulless let the rifle hang again, kicking the brass casings from the fired shots over the edge into the swirling water. Then, he grabbed the body and tossed it over too. The sound of the splash was lost in a boom of thunder. He picked up the submachine gun. A Sig Sauer MPX. He tossed it over the side too. He disliked Sig Sauer weapons.


He kept moving across the deck, .308 rifle ready. He found the body of another security guard on the platform, an MP5K submachine gun laying next to his hand. The man was also shot through the chest multiple times, a pool of blood encircling the man. He checked the ID tag. It read WEBBER.


Soulless kept moving. He spotted a guard manning a spotlight, and paused to put a .308 round between his eyes. Then, after continuing moving, he found the control area for the oil rig.


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“Predator's picked up a lot of heat signatures on the deck. Recently two have stopped moving after one came close to it, so we started following that signature. He came close to another signature, stopped for a second, then approached the signature. A few seconds later, that second signature was thrown into the ocean." Dark said as they walked. “Obviously the person sweeping the deck is a professional. He could be our guy."


“Have you been able to identify the attacker?" Random asked.


“Drone can't get anything better than a FLIR image sir." Dark replied. They reached the Ops room, which was closed by a set of reinforced doors and a retina scanner. Dark pressed his eye to the scanner. A ring of green light lit up on the panel, and the reinforced door unlocked.


Inside the Ops room was a large table covered in maps, electronics, and screens. Coverage from the war in Korea. Several people stood around a screen actually set into the table, muttering to each other and pointing to various points on the display, a map of the DMZ.


A technician came over and saluted Random. “FLIR image is live on screen six, sir."


Random returned the salute. “Thank you. Grab a half hour break and de-stress a little. I know how a desk job feels."


“Thank you sir." The technician replied, saluting again and striding away. Random proceeded over to the designated screen. An image feed from a drone was live, displaying the oil platform. Currently, a pinpoint of light was sitting immobile.


Titanium was watching the feed. He briefly nodded to Random, who nodded back. “That's our guy." Titanium said, pointing to the pinpoint of light.


Titanium tugged a headset onto his head. “Pilot, can you zoom the image in?" He asked, speaking to the pilot of the Predator drone. Evil heard the reply barely, and, watching the screen, the feed zoomed in.


Evil could see the dark outline of the door. The spot of light, now haven taken the form of a person, was messing with the door. The door opened, and the person entered.


“According to the layout of the platform, that hall leads to the generator room." Titanium relayed.


“He's isolating the terrorists and removing them one by one." Rock said. “Methodically taking out the competition without causing damage to the oil platform and minimizing the risk to himself."


“Why was one man sent to take on a group of twenty, maybe thirty terrorists, when it would be more effective to use a full assault team?" Dark muttered.


“Simple." Evil said. Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. “Whoever is involved is either hired or works for the owners of the platform, namely, ExonMobil. And I doubt an oil company would employ people who can take on a group of thirty terrorists and come out on top, which means that this is a hired operator."


Random nodded, thinking. The feed still showed a dark oil platform, with no heat signatures moving across the deck. “Maybe the organization that is taking in ex-special forces and using them as mercenaries."


“ExonMobil obviously hired someone to retake the platform. The question is who?" Titanium pointed out.


Random called an intelligence officer over, conferring with him. Evil kept watching the feed. He flinched when the heat signature appeared on the screen again.


“Random, our guy is moving."


“One moment." Random conferred with the intelligence officer for a moment, then the officer nodded and left. Random turned back to the screen and Omega. “He's pulling all the calls within the last 24 hours made by the ExonMobil CEO within the last 48 hours." Random said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the intel officer. “Where's our guy now?"


“Moving across the deck towards the control room." Titanium reported, scanning a copy of the layout of the platform.


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Soulless advanced slowly. He spotted a guard leaving the main control room, and shot him. The guard face planted and didn't move.


He kept going. The control room was elevated on it's own platform. There were no visible guards, but there would almost certainly be some of the terrorists inside the control room.


There was a set of stairs leading up to the control room's platform. Soulless reached them and, sliding his .308 around to be on his back, drew his Glock 19 and began climbing them. Ok the way up he checked the magazine, swapping it for a new one. The stairs ended and Soulless leaned up against the wall. There were voices coming from inside. One was yelling.


“Gonzales! Keep trying to raise the sentries. Manson, bring the charges over to there."


Soulless realized what they were doing.


They were planning to blow the platform.


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Random returned from the terminal he had been called to by his intelligence officer. ”Darren W. Wood contacted a mercenary corp called Mendosa a few hours ago. Mendosa representative Xavier answered the call and agreed to assign an operator to the op."


Something clicked in the back of Titaniums mind. He had been mostly useless in this mission except for communicating with the people operating the Predator drone, and he chose to speak now. “Isn't Xavier the name of the guy who's phone call we heard with the guy who had the raspy voice?"


Random nodded, holding up a thumb drive. It was the one Rock and Evil had given him holding an audio file. “Let's find out."


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Soulless reached the door to the control area. The terrorists inside were still yelling to each other inside.


Slowly, Glock 19 featuring its suppressor in his right hand, reached with his left into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a detonator. The door to the control room had no window, so Soulless couldn't see into the room. But he had to move fast anyways.


He clicked the detonator.


Downstairs on the platform, three carefully placed charges of C4 went off, killing the power from the generators keeping the platform running.


Immediately, floodlights and lamps on the oil rig went out.


“Where the hell did the power go?" Someone yelled inside the room.


Taking a flashbang off his harness, Soulless yanked the pin out with his teeth, and opened the door, rolling the flashbang inside. His appearance was met with surprise and shock, and the six terrorists in the room were all carrying weapons.


He slammed the steel door shut right as two rounds hit the door. Then the flashbang detonated, and he kicked the door open. Firing two shots into one terrorist, Soulless slid in behind a steel table. He fired one shot at a guy cowering in a corner, the shot 9mm round taking him through the side. He transitioned and double tapped another terrorist before ducking down behind the table.


A stream of submachine gun fire tore over Soulless' head and into the steel table. He popped up and fired four quick shots into the guy shooting. He dropped, his MP5K clattering to the floor.


Soulless crouched down again, dropping the magazine out of the Glock 19 and sliding a fresh one left. He had two full ones left, counting the one in the gun.


A door opened and there were more footsteps. Soulless swore under his breath as another round of automatic fire tore over his head.


Soulless grabbed his last and final flashbang off his vest. There was a scuff of a shoe and a tinkle of a brass casing as someone shifted. Soulless kept listening, gauging where the enemy was.


“We know you're low on ammo and you're only one man!" Someone yelled in a deep voice. “Our cause is just and you are in the way. If you truly care about the lord's creatures of the sea, stand aside."


Soulless responded with another pair of 9mm rounds. He also set the flashbang down and grabbed his sole frag grenade.


“This is your last chance! Surrender now or die! You have ten seconds."


“**** you." Soulless muttered, yanking the pin out with his teeth, letting the safety catch fly, and tossing it over the table.


There was a muffled yell of “Grenade!" And a lot of scuffling. Someone screeched in either fear or pain, and then the grenade detonated with an ear-destroying bang.


Soulless' ears were ringing. The windows of the control room had shattered, but somehow, the grenade blast had been blocked by a steel table, preventing a pile of plastic explosive from going off, blowing everyone in the room to kingdom come.


Soulless stood, Glock in hand.


He walked slowly over to the table the terrorists had been taking cover behind. There was a moan, and one of the guys began to haul himself across the floor.


Soulless put a round through his head.


Another guy gasped. Soulless transitioned his aim and shot him too. He checked all of the other bodies. Blown to bits. Blood and gore coated the floor of the control room.


Soulless couldn't care less. He was in his zen moment. No adrenaline. No fear. No anger. No thoughts. No emotion.


Just instinct.


He stopped.


All he could hear was the patter of rain. Thunder rumbled outside the shattered glass of the windows, and lightning flashed, illuminating the room with Soulless' handiwork.


Then, he heard a scuff.


He reversed and, with his heel, kicked the handgun out of the terrorist's hand. He looked down his sights at the man, and met his eyes. They were drenched with fear and pain.


“Please." The man said.


Soulless dropped the magazine of his Glock. It was empty. That had been his last mag.


“Please sir. I can pay you any amount of money. Just please, help me."


Soulless slid the slide of the '19 back a little. There was a loaded round chambered. He let it slide back down.


“Please! I have a wife and kids! Beautiful kids! I'm all they-"


Soulless kicked the man in the face.


Then, he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and dragged him up against the wall to meet his eyes. Icy ocean blue versus cow brown.


“You." Soulless hissed, now extremely pissed off." “Should never have brought your family into this."


The man's eyes widened. He nodded.


“Now." Soulless said, tightening his grip on the handgun. “Let me help you out a little."


He dropped the man, stepped back as to not get blood on his clothes, and pulled the trigger.


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Random watched as the heat blob on the FLIR feed stacked on a door. There was a quick opening of a door, and a motion of the person's arm. Some sort of grenade.


A flash illuminated the room, and the person generating the heat signature rushed in. Then nothing moved.


Titanium muttered something into his headset. “Nothing the drone operators can do to see into the room sir."


Random nodded. There was probably a firefight going on in the room, with the lone operator making it in and engaging, or being gunned down as he entered.


“Do any of you know why I'm interested in Mendosa?" Random asked suddenly to the Omega team members around him.


There was a silence.


“Their knowledge of Spectre?" Rock asked cautiously.


“That's part of it." Random interlaced his hands behind his back. He was growing slightly lazy from his desk job. In the back of his mind he prayed for a field deployment. “Mostly I'm looking to recruit them."


“What?" Exclaimed Dark. “They're mercenaries! You saw what happened when IAI and the Koreans lit up San Diego. Why get friendly with another PMC?"


“They aren't mercenaries. They're professionals who happen to do business in a certain profession." Random corrected. “I was interested the second they started taking out gangsters and criminals. I'm looking for a task force specifically for anti-terrorism, surveillance, and intelligence operations. Judging from the operator we have been looking at specifically who was possibly recruited by them, namely someone using Soulless' alias or it actually being him alive in flesh and blood, the Mendosa corporation is just the group for that."


“Then why so much interest in Soulless?" Asked Titanium.


“Soulless is just the chain between us and them. The bridge between two worlds. The intermediary. He knows how Spectre works, and he knows how Mendosa works, if he is alive and if he is employed by Mendosa at this time, then he would be able to bring the two groups together." Random explained.


“That is, if he is willing to cooperate." Evil said, speaking for the first time in a while. “Which he probably won't."


“That's where you all come in." Random said. “I need you to win Soulless over, and through him, win Mendosa over."


“Uh, shouldn't we be watching the feed?" Titanium asked.


Random turned back to it, and at that second, the windows on the control center shattered. There was a flash of a heat signature from some sort of grenade, then nothing else.


“There's morning we can learn by watching that anymore." Random said. “Omega, back to my office.


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Soulless walked across the deck of the platform. He had cleared all of the terrorists and was waiting extraction.


He looked out to the sea. Calm. Soothing. The glassy face of the water shone in the morning sunlight.


Soon he heard a helicopter's rotors. There was one moving across the surface of the sea, interrupting the calm mirror the water projected.


Soulless had been on the platform for over twelve hours. He had disarmed all of the plastic explosive designed to destroy the platform and neutralized any hostile opposition. He was being airlifted out of the Atlantic to France, where he would be flown on a private aircraft back to Mendosa HQ in Russia.


The helicopter came up and hovered at the edge of the deck. Two Mendosa operatives with UMP-45 submachine guns hopped off the helo, sweeping the deck and covering Soulless as he walked calmly across the deck, his Springfield .308 rifle on his back.


Lekosa jumped off the helicopter and grabbed Soulless by the arm, giving him a quick slap on the back. “Glad to see you in one piece."


“Desk job getting to you yet?" Soulless asked.


“Somewhat. Mainly hanging around Spectre HQ monitoring their level of interest in us. Ready to go?" He asked.


“Almost." Soulless said. He glanced around the deck quickly, looking. His eyes settled on a pair of bodies, from the terrorists he had first eliminated. Their Springfield Saint carbine rifles lay on the concrete next to them where they had fallen.


Soulless grabbed one of the Saint carbines and checked the magazine. Full thirty rounds. He cycled the bold to check that a round was loaded.


“Now I'm ready." He declared.


Leko just grinned.


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End of Chapter 5.

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Thanks a ton to everyone who reads these. Your viewing is greatly appreciated and I will never be able to return the favor.


@MR_EVIL_OVERLORD

@DarkEvilTitan

@TheTitaniumTitan

@randomcitizen1

@Lekosa1

@Xavier1974

 

Thanks man <3

 

Post it, you wont no balls <3

*Insert generic MINE! GIF here.*

Why would you be thinking about that xD

 

K