Gianna Glow
Member
|
Guns, Poison and Fun
by Goldstein
“We’re getting mortared again,” muttered Commandant Irene as he shuffled past, coffee in one hand, rolled-up newspaper in the other. He looked quite undignified in pink fuzzy slippers and the stubble on his chin.
Zavid Killran simply grunted in response. He was playing the Xbox, and he could care less.
Aleksandra Yemtss chuckled at Zavid’s lack of interest. “Hostiles bomb our base with artillery and you hardly bat a lash. But when someone noob-tubes you on Call of Duty, you’re furious.”
Zavid shrugged. “Priorities, I suppose. Just because mine are more healthy than yours doesn’t mean you should berate me. Really.”
Aleks stuck her tongue out and said, “Take off that stupid hat and stay awhile, eh?”
Self-conscious, Zavid snatched off the red beret and stuffed it into his pocket.
“What the heck is going on?” asked a bewildered Demetri Greene, the team’s accountant. You could tell his position by his frumpy suit and green and black pinstripe vest underneath. His hair was rather unruly and his spectacles hung from a thin wire. “The base is shaking! Are they nuking us?”
“Shut up and go play with your calculator, Greene,” muttered Zavid, not even bothering to turn around.
Greene snorted. “Zavid, you’re an idiot. That was a horrible insult.”
“Cut it out, you two,” said Irene, bored. He sipped his black coffee and then snapped his newspaper open.
Greene scoffed and sat down beside Irene. He opened the milk jug nearby, and poured himself a bowl of Lucky Charms.
“You know, I bet Call of Duty actually heightens my reflexes in battle,” stated Zavid as he dodged a RPG and threw a grenade over by the flag he was trying to capture.
“You’re a tactician, Zave. You get a pistol, a master-communication link, and a grenade. You’re not the biggest asset in a battle,” said Aleks, not looking up from her text.
Zavid leered at her because he knew she was right. “But, but…it’s a machine pistol!"
Aleks shrugged. “Sorry, but the truth hurts.”
Irene snapped his newspaper again. “Zavid is a highly-trained KGB agent and is always a huge asset in any battle by his coordinating attacks and laying down support fire while someone reloads,” he said from behind his newspaper. It sounded painfully rehearsed. Greene stifled a laugh at the obvious lack of sincerity.
“Red-Alpha Team, come in!” Everyone paused for a moment, looking at the TV monitor that hung above a small fireplace. A second passed, then Zavid’s game flashed, gone. The face of a burly man with a thick mustache and heavy brow, tailored by dark, slicked back hair took it’s place. “Come in, for God’s sakes!”
“Oh, hey, Colonel,” said Irene dismissively. “I have been meaning to ask you, can we change our name? Red-Alpha Team isn’t very original, you know?”
“COLONEL?! Gah, I was about to get a sentry gun! Geez!” cried out Zavid, indignant.
“Shut up, Zavid,” muttered Aleks. She slid her phone shut and stood up. “What be your business, Colonel?” she asked, saluting.
“Are you aware that hostiles are bombarding your base with heavy ordnance?” snarled Colonel, his eyebrows high. As soon as he said that, the room shook a little from a mortar overhead.
“Only vaguely, sir,” Greene said, looking down at his cereal.
Colonel stared at Greene for a second, then barked, “You are the only man I know who still eats Lucky Charms and is enlisted in an elite covert force!”
“So?” asked Greene through a mouthful.
Colonel rolled his eyes, then turned to Irene. “Martial your forces and return fire on those hostiles! …where is Smirnoff?”
“Dead,” said Irene. “He got wasted on poison and died from the stuff. So, yeah.”
“The heck?! Why was I not informed?” yelled Colonel. He quickly waved away any responses. “Whatever. Look, just take Greene and return fire for a bit, alright?” And with that, the monitor went blank.
Irene sighed and grabbed a fistful of Lucky Charms. He shoved it into his mouth, then watered it down with some nearby poison. He swallowed it all without chewing, sighed, and said, “Suit up everyone. You too, Greene. Let’s go kick some butt in the name of the Motherland.”
“Yah!” cried Zavid, jumping up from the couch.
“Okay,” Aleks said.
Greene fiddled with his spectacles, then hastily took another bite and got up to follow everyone else to their stalls.
Zavid took out his red beret and planted it firmly on his head. He slid a clip into his PP2000, and put his master-communication link into his ear. “Testing, testing, can you hear me?”
“Of course,” Aleks said. She walked out of her stall, zipping her black turtleneck up to her chin. She screwed a silencer onto her P90 and tucked it behind her. She looked at Zavid, who has staring at her. “You okay?” she asked, a little uncomfortable.
“Uh huh. Anyone ever tell you look really sexy putting your silencer on?” Zavid asked, mumbling.
“Wow, Zave. Just wow,” admonished Irene mildly. “That’s pretty pathetic.” He slung a bandoleer of Squad Automatic Weapon ammo over his shoulder and turned to straighten his commandant hat.
“Is this okay?” asked Greene as he stumbled out. He had a Javelin under one arm and a Stinger under the other. A MP5K and an AK-47 were strapped to his belt.
Aleks stepped forward and unlatched the two guns. “You need to travel lightly. Use a Mini-Uzi, and, uh, a Desert Eagle. Trust me, I’m the weapons expert.”
Greene cautiously hugged the Javelin. “Can I at least keep this, please?”
Aleks chuckled and patted Greene on the shoulder. “Okay, buddy. Just don’t complain if that thing gets too heavy to carry around, ’kay?”
Zavid chuckled. “It will. Believe me.”
Irene snorted, uninterested. “Alright, let’s go. I’m not gonna die without a Medal of Valour.”
Just as Greene and his comrades emerged from the underground Russian base, a bullet whizzed by his head. He threw himself to the ground and yelled, “I’m hit!”
“Shut up, Greene, and get your butt over here,” snarled Zavid, throwing his back to the trench wall. Bullets flew and ricocheted overhead.
“How many are there?” asked Aleks as she ran next to him, loading the MP5K.
“God knows! It seems that they’ve got us pinned down with M16 fire! And no, we’re not lucky enough for it to be the burst-action rifle…” Zavid growled as he blindly fired the PP2000 overhead.
“How many bullets do you have left?” Irene asked as he pulled out a bit of the ammo belt from his SAW.
“Forty, I think. That’s forty dead. Don’t worry, I’ll try to see if I can get two,” Zavid said grimly as he slid bullets into the chamber.
“How?” stuttered Greene as he fumbled to push a magazine into the mini-Uzi.
Zavid chuckled. “By shooting at them when they’re in a line.” He slid another clip in, and peeked over the wall of the trench. He fired a few shots, and a hail of bullets responded. He quickly ducked, but not before his beret was shot up. Instantly his demeanor changed. He tenderly took up the beret, tears welling in his eyes, holding the hat to his chest. “My hat! Why, why? My hat…” he moaned as he inspected the damage.
“Grow a pair and turn on your master-communication link, Zave! Christ!” snarled Irene as he readied his SAW.
Zavid nodded hard, and put the beret carefully back on. “That was a gift from home…” he said as he flicked on his link. Then he continued, in a more steady voice, “Alright, Aleks, go man the MRLS and mini-gun. Irene, cover her and keep me updated, alright?” Aleks and Irene nodded and ran off to the left.
“What will we do?” asked Greene, nervous. He was shaking.
Zavid chuckled. “You, my friend, will be manning the Paladin.”
Greene tilted his head, a little confused. “Paladin? What, what is…?”
“Howitzer, you know? Giant cannon thingy on a tank?”
Greene nodded. “Okay, cool…what, I’m going to be manning the Paladin? I’m an accountant! You can’t expect me to do something like that—I’m not trained!”
Zavid shrugged and said as he reloaded his pistol, “So? You can balance a checkbook and set up a budget all while trading wits with me. So you can lay down and return heavy ordnance.”
“Alright, Aleks, get on that MRLS,” muttered Irene as he threw open the door.
“I thought you needed a three-team crew for that!” Aleks said as she climbed into the big vehicle.
“Only if you want a driver to get you out of the way of counter-strikes,” Irene said mildly. And before Aleks could protest, he slammed the door on her. He quickly spun around and opened fire into the distance, his bullets flying over a battered no-man’s land, full of barb wire and scorch marks. He stood by the MRLS door, unflinching, even when a bullet whipped through his hat.
“That Irene, that old good-for nothing...” Aleks growled as she manned the controls.
“We can hear you. You know, over the links,” came Irene’s voice over Aleks’ communication link.
Aleks’ face reddened, and she cursed under her breath. She lazily plugged in some coordinates and silently watched the machine’s monitor. Explosions soon bloomed over enemy lines, with little figures being flung in every which direction. That brings me to, what, seventy-eight, seventy-nine. How many more… She quickly cleared her head. She didn’t like to dwell on things she couldn’t change. “Shut up,” she muttered to voice in the back of her head.
“What?” asked Irene from the link, sounding irked.
“Nothing,” Aleks said quickly.
Irene watched the explosions, a little satisfied. He was old and grizzled, and his opinions were rooted in tradition and old customs. Even so, he knew, and admitted, that Aleks was a fine and upstanding soldier. One of the best…and most likable he had met in his forty years of service. Without warning, Irene noticed a small black figure, outlined in front of the explosions. “Is…he holding an RPG?” muttered Irene, straining his eyes. The figure jerked back a little, and a small object suddenly shot forward. “Oh, crap...”
Irene threw open the door to the MRLS and pulled Aleks out of the vehicle quickly. “What the heck are you doing?” she demanded angrily.
“Get down!” yelled Irene, throwing Aleks and himself to the ground about five yards from the rocket launcher. The RPG was true to its mark, and the MRLS exploded in a fireball that sucked away the oxygen around it.
Shrapnel ran down on Irene’s and Aleks’ back. “Everything okay? Guys, guys! For Christ’s sake, come in!” yelled Zavid into his link.
Coughing, Irene asked, looking at Aleks’ dirt-smeared face, “Are you alright?”
Aleks wiped the muck off her forehead. “Our suppliers are going to be pissed we blew up their stuff, aren’t they?"
Irene looked at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Better them than the enemy, right?”
“Is everything okay?” Greene asked Zavid meekly, clutching the Uzi close to his chest.
Zavid rolled his eyes at the exchange over the link. “Yeah, those two idiots are fine. You know, for almost being killed, you’d think they discuss something other than…ah, never mind. Now go on, get in there!”
Greene nervously fiddled with his spectacles which were perched on the bridge of his nose. “But, but…I’m nervous!” he whined.
Zavid sighed heavily and rubbed his brow. “Alright. Turn around, okay?”
Greene suspiciously looked Zavid over. “Why?”
Zavid shrugged. “So this won't hurt so much.” Before he could react, Zavid kicked Greene in the area between the thighs. Greene toppled backwards into the hatch. He fell with an almost comical *thud*. Zavid climbed down and pulled the hatch closed, bullets ricocheting off the top.
“Alright, Greene, man the cannon; I’ll stand guard,” Zavid said, pointing at the controls.
“Okay,” Greene said in a noticeably higher voice and hobbled over to the controls, doubled over. Zavid quietly laughed.
Greene plugged in some coordinates and the tank jerked from the recoil of the gun. “Direct hit!” Greene squealed happily.
“Whoopie-doo,” Zavid said, pointing his pistol up at the hatch. Pinging noises could be heard from the other side.
Greene stuck his tongue out at Zavid, adjusted his spectacles, then fired a few more shots off. He happily watched the explosions blossom over enemy lines on the tank’s little monitor.
The hatch suddenly opened, and a small green thing fell down. Greene whipped around, saw it, and shrieked, “GRENADE!”
Zavid bent down and picked it up. “I know. Idiots forgot to cook it.” Zavid quickly threw the thing back up the hatch and closed it once the grenade cleared it. A muffled explosion accompanied with screaming could be heard. Greene blanched and swiveled back around.
Zavid snapped a new clip into the PP2000. “No need to overreact next time we see a grenade, alright? And I swear to God, if you start yelling at me to look down my sights, I’ll kill you, understand?”
Greene looked over his shoulder, a quizzical look on his face. “What?”
Before Zavid could answer, the hatch flew open again. Zavid fired a volley of shots, and a hostile fell through the hole. The hatch was quickly shut from the outside. Greene spun around and gagged at the dead body. “Christ…gah…Zave, we’re out of ballistics!”
“Crap,” muttered Zavid.
“Zavid! We’re out of mini-gun ammo! We’ve got a mass of hostiles making their way towards us! We need assistance, now!” came Aleks’ voice over the link.
Zavid cursed and yanked the master link out of his ear. “Come on Greene,” he said, reloading his gun, “let’s go kick some butt.”
Zavid quickly threw open the hatch. An enemy on it screamed as he fell off the tank. Zavid quickly shot two other hostiles climbing up towards them. He spun around and fired on the man who had fallen.
“Is it safe?” asked Greene meekly from the interior of the tank.
Zavid ignored him and scanned the battleground. A group of ten tangos were making their way to Aleksandra and Irene’s position. Aleks occasionally would pop up and squeeze a few shots off. But fire was quickly returned, and she had to duck back down before she could get any more shots off. “Darn it,” muttered Zavid angrily. “Darn, darn, darn, darn!” he swore.
Greene stared up at his cussing comrade above him. The feeling of helplessness that had seized him moments before faded away, replaced with agitation. “Forget this,” Greene growled, anger suddenly filling him. He grabbed his Javelin, and shoved Zavid out of the way.
“Hey!” Zavid yelled indignantly.
“Shut up, tactician,” barked Greene. He loaded the weapon, then held it up to his face. The machine beeped cheerfully. “Lock acquired.” Greene squeezed the trigger, the missile shot into the air. It popped, then exploded upwards.
Greene and Zavid wordlessly watched as the missile arched into the air. “Higher, higher, higher…” Zavid chanted dramatically.
“Be quiet, Zave,” muttered Greene as he watched the projectile.
Its aim was true. It hit the ground squarely in front of the group of hostiles. Bodies were lifted into the air, and Greene and Zavid could hear their shouts of surprise and pain from the Paladin.
Irene and Aleks snapped their heads over to the tank. Greene had dropped his Javelin, staring dumbfounded at the spot where the mass of enemies had been. Zavid was twisting his master link back into his ear.
“Can you hear me, Zavid?” Irene asked gruffly.
“Yeah,” came Zavid’s voice. It was unusually shaky.
“You give Greene a slap on the back and tell him that he did a bang-up good job. Or I’ll give your Xbox a red ring. Aye?”
Zavid looked at Irene’s thin, tall figure, towering over the spent mini-gun. He turned to Greene. “Way to go, man! That was awesome!” Zavid said enthusiastically, clapping his hand on Greene’s shoulder. Greene continued to stare straight ahead, shocked.
Irene and Aleks quietly chuckled, still a little uneasy.
Zavid coughed into his fist, a little bashful, and briskly said, “Alright everyone, let’s get the back to the base before one of us gets picked off by a sniper. We don’t want Irene to be buzzkill.”
Irene stopped laughing.
“I did pretty good out there, right? I fired the Paladin, and I got at least ten K.I.A.’s! How awesome is that!” Greene asked gleefully as the steel door to the base slowly slid shut behind them and the four were plunged into darkness.
Panel lights on the walls flickered along the ramp down to the base, and Greene took the lead.
“Indeed, I did a fine job out there. Especially since I’m just an accountant! Amazing!” Greene said.
Zavid rubbed his eyes. “You’re not going to be one of those guys who does one thing right and then gets all stuck-up and arrogant about it, are you?”
Greene grinned. “You know it.”
Aleks burst out laughing, and Irene silently chuckled.
As soon as the four made it back to the main room, a monitor flickered on, and the face of Colonel flashed on. “How’d you do?" he asked eagerly.
Zavid flopped down on the couch and said in a scorching tone, “We nearly all died out there. Alright?”
Colonel narrowed his eyes at Zavid. “How?” he barked angrily.
“Well, Aleks nearly got blown up by an RPG while she was in the MRLS, then we ran out of mini-gun ammo,” Irene growled as he twisted the top off a bottle of water.
“And someone threw a grenade down into the Paladin while me and Greene were in in there,” Zavid muttered.
“I got ten K.I.A.’s!” cried Greene proudly.
Colonel leered at Greene for a moment, then announced, “Well, I think you deserve a Medal of Valour, eh?”
Greene gaped with awe, while Irene took a long gulp of water before saying, “You know, I saved a comrade from almost certain death. I think I deserve one too.”
Colonel looked Irene over from the TV monitor. “You also cost our allies 2.3 million dollars. But I guess that could be considered a plus…”
Irene took another swig of water and quietly watched Colonel.
“…almost certain death?” asked Colonel slowly.
“Pretty much,” piped up Aleks.
“…nah. Keep trying, eh?” And before Irene could protest, Colonel disappeared.
Irene angrily threw the bottle down, screwed open the poison bottle, and took a long draught from it. “Ah well,” he murmured coolly, “I guess I should just keep trying, right? What a… a ugh.”
“For an old man, you use modern terminology pretty well,” commented Zavid. He got up and turned on the Xbox. “Come on, play some Call of Duty with me. That always cheers you up, right?”
Irene glowered at the controller Zavid was presenting him. “I hate that insipid little game of yours.”
Aleks got up and clapped her hand on Irene’s shoulder. “How about we have some hard lemonade? Some poison, some lemonade, some poison…”
Irene sighed and smiled a little. “Now that, that I would like.”
“As would I,” came a throaty voice. A stooped figure walked out from behind a corner, his hands in the pockets of his long black jacket.
Colonel quickly reappeared on the monitor and hastily said “Yeah, meet your team’s new sniper, Vladius Unoff. He’ll take Smirnoff’s place,” before disappearing again.
“Charmed,” Vladius said in a monotone, his eyes droopy and dull-looking.
Greene walked over and thrust out his hand. “Demetri Greene, team accountant. I also killed ten guys with a single Javelin, so…” he stuffed his hands in his pockets and puffed his chest up a bit. “Yeah,” Greene finished, sounding impressed with himself.
Vladius looked at Greene for a moment, then walked to Irene. “Where’s my room?” he asked in that same tone.
Irene glared down at the newcomer, then mumbled, “Third down on the right, by the potted plant and armory. Zavid Killran here will show you to your room.”
Zavid groaned, threw down his controller and jumped up. “Right this way,” he said. Vladius just stared at him. Zavid, uncomfortable, took the lead.
Zavid reached the door, then turned. Vladius was right behind him. He was still staring. Zavid stared right back. After about six seconds of silence, the tactician murmured, “You have the deadest, creepiest eyes. Do you know that? Because now you do. Okay?”
Vladius stared at him, then quietly slipped into his room.
Zavid shuddered. “Holy crap, I work with some weirdos.” He took off his beret and smiled at it. “Don’t I? I know, these guys are seriously messed up.” He replaced his hat, and sighed, “But I guess I’m stuck with them.”
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
