GWOT III - Mission
Nov. 13th, 2023 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT III - Mission
Site.
A convoy team briefing.
But this was a large, large convoy.
Every piece of rolling stock Site owned was in on this one.
Every surviving member of the contract security force was on the convoy.
Even Wyatt, missing a leg, was in the turret ring of one of the armored trucks behind the spade grips of a twin .50 caliber machine gun. He wouldn't be dismounting, and if the truck was disabled, well, so was he, and the two of them would figure it out together. He was not the only disabled person committed to a vehicle either.
Every member of the client's Reaction Team was also on the convoy.
Who was defending the site?
Nobody.
Oh, there were third-least-qualified people sitting in the sniper roost in H5, behind the consoles in Security Dispatch, and carrying rifles they barely knew how to use at the Main Gate. But they were the backups to the backups to the backups.
The Site was sending its A game.
They had orders. They were authenticated.
Janine was briefing her firefighters.
"As we are engaging with a lawful military target, we are combatants. Your tasks are the same as always. To make forcible entry, to ladder, to make access, to fight fire and to rescue victims. The nature is a little different. But the tasks are the usual."
She could not lead them. She had other tasks.
The Security command team, led by Sharon, was reminding her people of the game plan.
"We are working with liasion officers on this one. We will be supported by artillery. We will be supported by aircraft. Make sure your marker panels are properly displayed. Do not get separated from the main effort! Gold on gold is a major concern and the best protection is to stay concentrated."
Mo double checked the pre-rigged charges of his team of blasters. He paused to kiss the cheeks of the shortest.
"Stay well behind me, keep your pistol at hand, take no chances," he said.
Two flatbed trucks were needed to carry all of the explosive. His explosives bunker, in the Hidden Valley, was now totally empty. One way or the other, it would never be used to store explosives again.
The Client's leadership was subdued. They had drilled and rehearsed, they had practiced. Now it was time to act.
The mission would not be possible without the assistance of a detailed document Wyatt had found in Echo 18's files and brought immediately to Sharon, once he realized its importance.
Echo 18 was almost certainly dead.
If he was not, he certainly wanted to be. Badly.
His legacy would be these people, these combatants. He had opened the door. He had shown the way.
It was theirs to walk through.
Sharon picked up the hard phone and made the call.
"Homeland, this is Site. We are responding to your mutual aid request with all resources at our disposal. Estimate arrival time in twenty mikes, that is two zero."
She did not bother listening to the babbled reply. It didn't matter.
"Let's roll!"
Site.
A convoy team briefing.
But this was a large, large convoy.
Every piece of rolling stock Site owned was in on this one.
Every surviving member of the contract security force was on the convoy.
Even Wyatt, missing a leg, was in the turret ring of one of the armored trucks behind the spade grips of a twin .50 caliber machine gun. He wouldn't be dismounting, and if the truck was disabled, well, so was he, and the two of them would figure it out together. He was not the only disabled person committed to a vehicle either.
Every member of the client's Reaction Team was also on the convoy.
Who was defending the site?
Nobody.
Oh, there were third-least-qualified people sitting in the sniper roost in H5, behind the consoles in Security Dispatch, and carrying rifles they barely knew how to use at the Main Gate. But they were the backups to the backups to the backups.
The Site was sending its A game.
They had orders. They were authenticated.
Janine was briefing her firefighters.
"As we are engaging with a lawful military target, we are combatants. Your tasks are the same as always. To make forcible entry, to ladder, to make access, to fight fire and to rescue victims. The nature is a little different. But the tasks are the usual."
She could not lead them. She had other tasks.
The Security command team, led by Sharon, was reminding her people of the game plan.
"We are working with liasion officers on this one. We will be supported by artillery. We will be supported by aircraft. Make sure your marker panels are properly displayed. Do not get separated from the main effort! Gold on gold is a major concern and the best protection is to stay concentrated."
Mo double checked the pre-rigged charges of his team of blasters. He paused to kiss the cheeks of the shortest.
"Stay well behind me, keep your pistol at hand, take no chances," he said.
Two flatbed trucks were needed to carry all of the explosive. His explosives bunker, in the Hidden Valley, was now totally empty. One way or the other, it would never be used to store explosives again.
The Client's leadership was subdued. They had drilled and rehearsed, they had practiced. Now it was time to act.
The mission would not be possible without the assistance of a detailed document Wyatt had found in Echo 18's files and brought immediately to Sharon, once he realized its importance.
Echo 18 was almost certainly dead.
If he was not, he certainly wanted to be. Badly.
His legacy would be these people, these combatants. He had opened the door. He had shown the way.
It was theirs to walk through.
Sharon picked up the hard phone and made the call.
"Homeland, this is Site. We are responding to your mutual aid request with all resources at our disposal. Estimate arrival time in twenty mikes, that is two zero."
She did not bother listening to the babbled reply. It didn't matter.
"Let's roll!"
