Operation: POLAR STAR

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Maddeline

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see plot and OOC thread!

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Ford cleared the chamber of his SCAR-L, calmly looking out over the horizon. He placed his hand on his throat microphone, speaking into it with his voice extra loud to speak over the helicopter blades.
"Why are we out here drilling again Lieutenant?"
Lieutenant Sanchez looked at him, and smiled.
"Because Ukraine ordered a freedom sky express"
Ford held his tongue, he hates that trivial bullshit. Even if it was a joke, he deserved to be informed of why the fuck he was being flown out to buttfuck nowhere in East Europe. The only other base for at least 700 miles was in Germany and did not actively stock anything beyond ammunition. Only thing he could figure was that they were sent to put down a few riots or save some refugees. But why would that be so secretive?
"Permission to carry on active conversations with my pals, sir?", he asked, looking at his squad mates inside his helicopter.
"Permission granted", Sanchez said, reclining back and putting on his sunglasses.
Ford looked across to the olive tanned man in front of him with the M82, Difiori his name tag said.
"Why would you think that we are stuck out here? I mean, it doesn't make sense right!?"

To their left and right, other transport helicopters were flying, carrying many other 75th rangers. The sunlight was just peaking over a mountain range that overlooked the expansive Black Sea at the Crimean peninsula.
 
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Sitting in his seat on the transport helicopter, Ponce looked out to see where they were being taken, the middle of nowhere Romania, Romania of all places. He wasn't one hundred percent sure what was going on at the time, but one thing he did know was that he didn't like it. While it was a common feeling for people in his position, he still did not like being left out of the loop. He held his M82 with both of his hands tightly, he wasn't anxious or nervous at all, he just wanted to know, what or who would he have to take out this time. And why were they sending them, the 75th Rangers, out to a drill in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

He closed his eyes for a moment and leaned back, taking in as much fresh air as he could with a deep breath, followed by a long sigh. It was then he realized he was being talked to by the rifleman next to him, he believed his name was Frank or Ford, he couldn't remember at that very moment, he was always terrible with names, when crunch time came the name would rush back to him. Ponce opened his eyes to look at the man, "Yep, its Ford, definitely Ford." he thought to himself. He shrugged and shook his head when the man asked him if he knew about the operation being in the middle of nowhere.

"Honestly? I have no clue. I'm just as out of the loop as the rest of us. When I found out we were being sent to a drilling sight, I got a lot of images in my head, and for some reason this... Wasn't the scenery I was expecting." He jokingly groaned, honestly he knew they were being sent to this kind of area, something made him wish it was somewhere more, interesting. Somewhere different.
 
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Ford looked over, nodding.
Silently, he gazed back to the rising sun and saw very bright reflections like glass panes...
Must have been a building or something down there or just broken glass.
Suddenly, red hot flares shot out of all the helicopters.
"FUCK! We are locked on! Everyone double strap in we ARE LOCKED ON!" The pilots yelled, the helicopter beginning to spin wildly. Suddenly, a torrent of machine gun fire tore apart the side of the helicopter. The bullets rained into the carrying sides, killing Lieutenant Sanchez by plugging a hole in his temple. The subsequent force of the round split his entire face in half, meat chunks flying out of the side of the helicopter.
The left transport helicopter suddenly burst into flames, a soldier mounted IGLA having struck them and destroying the helicopter.
"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" The female co-pilot yelled out, as an IGLA soared towards the helicopter Brody was in.
However, Brody looked at DiFiori, and took out his combat knife- cutting off his own seat strap. Then he wrapped his hands around the restraint betting behind him...that way if he had to he could exit the helicopter if it crashed. It was equally as safe and dangerous as double strapping into the helicopter. If the helicopter spun, he could be flung out. If it crashed, he could get smushed. Or, if it crash landed he could escape before the subsequent explosion or even jump into the Black Sea if he had to for Christs sake.
"HOLD ON MEN! BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!" The main pilot said, spinning the helicopter broadside.
The middle detonated on the back rotar, and down the helicopter went, spiraling in circles.
But fate was with the 75th on chopper 3. The helicopter spun and smashed a tree, greatly slowing their fall.
The front of the helicopter smashed into the dirt, and Ford was sucked out of the side of the helicopter, landing on the fallen tree with a hard thud that knocked him out cold.
The helicopter completely halted, having skid about 30 meters through the frosty soil of the forest. The blades were completely stripped, and a small tree fell ontop of the helicopter. But, the troop area was virtually untouched, having been sparred by the pilots being hit by a tree and then nose diving the slow falling helicopter into the dirt.
 
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Adam held his rifle lightly against his chest as he scanned the area outside. He knew everyone had to be as lost as he was as to why the hell they were being shipped off for a so called "drilling". He couldn't be sure, but he had a strong feeling that it was a load of bullshit. They didn't get sent for small shit like that. No matter what they were doing they were on their way to do it and there wasn't any changing that.

He was about to say something to ford when he saw the flares deploying from the helicopters and a bullet fly through lieutenant Sanchez's head. "Oh shit! Oh shit!" Said Adam as he double strapped his harness and loaded a bullet in his rifles chamber. Eight in the clip, one in the chamber.

Adam took a few deep breathes as he looked around and calmed himself as the helicopter started to spin and they plummeted to the earth. "
BRACE!" He yelled out as the bird hit a tree then smashed nose first into the dirt. That's one hell of a way to start a mission.

Aside from being violently shaken around in his harness and the impact from the ground, Adam didn't feel injured. He had a slight headache but he'd manage. "
Sound off, everyone ok?" He called out to his fellow soldiers as he pulled his knife and cut off his harness.
 
A lot of silence, but a lot of breathing. Most were knocked out cold from impact.
Helicopter 1 however, was only smoking- and was landing it seemed about two miles east of them.
Ford's eyes sent his brain a very blury vision. Suddenly he felt an ungodly amount of pain.
As he woke too, he looked and saw he had been sucked out of the helicopter and landed on a fallen tree...ontop of his arm.
He wiggled his fingers, immense pain shooting through his arm as he did so. He then flexed, and that hurt like hell too. But it wasn't broken.
"I'm here", Ford groaned as he started to stand. He looked at his shoulder, and even through his US4CES ACU uniform he could tell what was wrong.
"My shoulder is out of socket... If someone could set it for me so I can shoot, that would be great"
His words came with almost tasteful sarcasm, trying to get everyone shaking a little and less depressed.
The situation sucked ass, but at the moment, this one time in Afghanistan was still worse. His Humvee caught fire from a roadside incindiary bomber and he got to watch his friends burn to death in the vehicle while he attempted to break the bullet proof glass.

Ford pushed the shitty memories out of his head, and used his good left arm to pick up his SCAR from the wreckage. The weapons were scattered around but not completely in dismay- the big ass guns stayed in the trooper hold while the lighter guns were around the wreckage. Even still, a crate had fallen out and it was full of attachments and M4A4 basics to adjust and monkey with to someone's disire if they lost their gun.
"FUCK! My gun is scratched to shit!", Ford said, inspecting the MK16. It wasn't really the scratches, it was the fear that something was messed up internally or dirt had clogged the bolt catch where he couldn't see it. He wasn't in the mood for his gun to explode in his hands or have a double feeding issue.
 
Adam crawled out the side of the downed bird then stood up outside. He felt light headed as he stood and his legs were shaky but he was lucky, things could have gone allot worse. Outside of Lieutenant Sanchez, he didn't think anyone else died in the crash. They were a lucky bunch, Adam just hoped that luck would hold out. He didn't want to die in the middle of fucking no where.

He looked around for a few seconds before finding ford pinned to the ground by a fallen tree. At least the tree hadn't fallen on his torso or head, that would've been a shitty thing to tell his family back home. "Ford, I got you brother. You lucky son of a bitch, let's get this tree off of you." Adam forced a small smile trying to make light in the situation. The tree had splintered off into pieces luckily, so there was only a good portion of the tree pinning ford to the ground instead of the whole tree. That would have been a really bitch to get off.

"
I'll be right back, I'm gonna get ponce to help." He said to ford as he moved back to the wreckage. "Ponce! You in there brother?" He called from right outside of the downed bird.
 
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Ford put his gun by his own shin, digging the stock into the icy ground.
He wedged it between the small tree and himself, and then put his shoulder against the rifle. He pushed up on his elbow, and began gasping for air from the utter pain. He hesitated, and then jumped into his rifle.
There was a horrible popping noise as it set his shoulder back in place.
Ford stood- rotating his shoulder for a few seconds.
He stayed silent now, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.
"If we use this snow here, we can wake up the unconscious", he said, making a snow ball.
"whatever we do, it needs to be fast. I'd say we only crashed two miles from the assholes that shot us down- at worst we have ten minutes. At best, forty"
 
Going from a calm boring mission to something completely different in an instant, Ponce glared at the flares heading towards him, in his mind he went through dozens of scenarios. How the helicopter would be hit, where it would be hit, the different ways it could crash, the chances of him surviving this, and all of the different ways he could be killed in that very instant. All in a few seconds, these thoughts and the moment itself gave Ponce a rush of adrenaline, he became still and began to shake, but didn't say a word and braced himself before impact.

He held his head down, eyes shut, keeping a steady breathing as the explosion went off and the Helicopter began to crash to the ground. He felt the world circling around him and he had already accepted that he could die right here, in the middle of Romania of all places. He thought of his family, the business he desired to run one day, his dog, love back home...

As the helicopter began to hit the ground, Ponce opened his eyes wide and saw a chunk of metal hurl towards his head, he ducked out of the way with only a fraction of space between his head and the chunk of metal, it left a small cut on his face. It was then the helicopter crashed into the Earth below. Ponce then blacked out...

He then heard his name being called out by someone, "Ponce..." He shook and opened his eyes, now concious. He got out of his harness thanks to the chunck of metal that cut into most of it, it was fairly easy to get the last bit off himself. He stumbled about, barely able to stand, barely holding his M82. He waddled out of the copter and fell to his knees, gripping his head.

"Sh-Shit what happened?" He shook his head a bit and slowly tried to get up, using his gun for slight support, "Fuck... Is everyone alright?"
 
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"разведать один на разведку два, расположенный ава-"
(Scout one to scout two, located the cra-)
The Russian grunt solider never finished his conversation into the radio. An 8 inch combat knife going into the Russians throat, and with a quick slashing motion, tearing a gash through it.
Ford then kicked the body to the ground...but didn't end him with a blow to the head or a bullet. No, he was letting him bleed to death or choke to death. The blood squirted out, caking the Russians hands as he grabbed at his throat pleadingly.
"That was for my friends you fucker...choke on your own GODDAMN BLOOD", the veteran ranger said, turning his back on the Russian scout who still lay in a puddle of his own blood...alive.
"Difiori!", Ford yelled out, leaning over to assist Ponce in standing.
"We just crashed! Look at me! Move your fingers! Look at my eyes, let me see your eyes so I know you are not in shock"
 
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Ponce slowly tried to steady himself, he leaned over and felt a bit dizzy, however the feeling went away a moment later by the time that Brody got to him. He looked up to him and slowly began to move his fingers, he had full control and was, thankfully, relatively unharmed by the crash. He got back to his feet and shrugged a bit.

"Thanks Ford... So..." He looked around him and noticed someone missing, "Hey, where's Sanchez? Did he make it out?"
 
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Ford looked at the helicopter crash.
"I...no...his face got blasted all over the cockpit by machine gun fire...he didn't even make it to the ground...I think there are bits of his skull on my knee pads...." Ford said, suddenly noticing the bits of skull and brain matter on his cap pads...
Sanchez had been boots on the ground with him back in 2011 when Ford was lucky enough to be part of a highly classified mission to kill Humar Kolof, a high ranking operative in the remaining Taliban and Al queda regimes. Sanchez had entered the room first, volunteering to be on point. Sanchez got shot in the body armor...as fate would have it, had Sanchez not volunteered, Ford would have had to breach. But Ford lacked body armor because he felt it slowed him down.
"sh-shit...man I need a sm-sm-smoke", Ford stammered out, suddenly his hands begining to shake. While accustomed to seeing friends die, they usually got a fair chance and usually parts of them don't end up all over him.
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(The following dialogue is in Russian)
"Datsyuk...squad up with team eight in the hanger bay"
The Russian looked up, his brown eyes itching from the overhead lights that hadn't been replaced for fifteen years. He dropped his wrench- he had been helping in the rebuilding of a USSR MIG, and often spent time in the hanger to cool down.
President Putin was in the debrief room himself- or rather, his projection from a white board was. The room filled in less than a minute, as Zinetula admired the lethal men in the room with him. Veterans. Some were around when the USSR was...and that proved they were badass.
"American special forces were flying in bound to the Ukraine to prevent our invasion of the country. Our reason for invasion is beyond confidential, however I trust that you know I put mother Russia above all else. If the American special forces begin to rally the police forces, we will not be able to invade in full swing. The United Nations will slander us if we use a full frontal assault on the Crimea area with tanks and aircraft. Your mission is to fly out to the crash site...find the special Americans and kill them. It cannot be extremely public because war must be avoided at ALL costs. Good luck, men. Do not fail mother Russia"
Zinetula nodded-
Finally, a chance to prove his worth.
 
Ace went through the rubble and checked the pulse of some of his fellow soldiers. They weren't as lucky as He, ford, and Ponce were. "Those bastards are gonna pay for this." Said Adam as he closed the eyes of one of the soldiers who looked like they were hit by one of the machine gun bullets and died instantly.

Ace walked back to Ford and Ponce. "
Alright ford, looks like you're next in charge. What's the call, we've probably got about 20 minutes before those assholes come to confirm kills and it's probably best that we aren't here when they do." Ace was great with his rifle, but he wasn't too excited about taking on helicopters from the ground. Maybe if they had a higher point of engagement they could defend themselves better, but that wasn't the case here.

Adam looked around at all the snow and exhaled deeply casting a puff of steam against the chilled air. "
It's cold as a bitch out here"
 
Ford forcefully calmed himself after hearing Ace's words.
"if they are dead, then we have to leave them. We don't have times to get their tags...I say we head to the direction that helicopter one 'landed' and get some friendlies with us if we can...that's about a half mile east...pack up, let's move out!", Ford said, grabbing his rifle and any STANAG mags he could find on the ground. In only a few minutes, he was ready and got up against the wood line where the snow was thinner...waiting for then to get some ammunition and begin moving out.
"Difiori, ammo for your M82 might be in the cargo hold...if you're lucky, some of those fifty caliber bullets and mags will be untouched"
 
**Translated to English**

Sitting inside the comfort of the Hangar, Crisp cleaned his rifle out, sippin on a cup of coffee, ready for to head on whatever objective they had. Finishing up, he packed up and slid his boots on and tied them tightly. Thats when he was a called into the briefing room. Listening to the words carefully, he waited until the room was incomplete silence "When do we head out?"
 
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(Translated from Russian)
The image of Putin did not respond- it was a recording.
However, the instructor did.
"You will catch an Mi-26 and fly out to the Crimean peninsula. Your estimated time of arrival is forty five minutes from now. Five of those minutes is time for you to gear up. If you can't fit it in a bag, bring it and load it into the crates for the Mi-26 to unload. Try not to make the scene too obvious- kill the Americans and bury them by their helicopters. I recommend silencers and light vests to stay quiet", spoke the instructor.
Without hesitation, the quiet Zinetula stood up and strode to his locker. He put on his signature ski mask, and grabbed four AKM magazines and put them in holsters on his gun's stock. The CQB soldier then screwed in a western style L606 silencer- he preffered it's skinny shape over the bulky PBs-0 silencer used commonly by Russian infantry.

____

Ford looked at Ponce and Ace.
"you all going to check the bodies for survivors or what? In about a minute I am leaving. I can kill one Russian but not fifty at once", the veteran soldier said, tucking his SCAR-L to his chest. The two didn't seem coherent- then again, he probably wasn't either. He fell fifteen feet from a falling helicopter going at an unknown speed only to have a small tree pin back his shoulder which he had to put back into place on his own...which felt like a motherfucker at the moment. For all he knew, he just received blunt lethal teams and could die in a few hours or something. This was not how he wanted to spend his last tour- lost in either Romania or the Ukraine inside a godforsaken forest.
 
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Ace went to one of the ammo containers and used a scrap piece of metal to open it up. He found enough sniper and M16 rounds for him to go to war with and walk out with at least three full clips for each weapon. He loaded up along with some R.E.M (ready to eat meals) packets for later. They didn't know how long they'd be out here so he brought enough for all three of them.

"I checked, it's just us" Ace told Ford. "You sure about that? I've seen you done some impossible stuff. Maybe a few Russians can act as a warm up." Ace tried to help make the mood lighter and not suck as bad as they all knew it did. None of them planned on dying in the middle of fucking nowhere in a Ukraine forest. That just wasn't an option. "Alright ford, on you."
 
Without another word, ford began going into the woods. He stepped on a dead tree, his foot falling in.
"Fuck!" he yelled out as snow went in between his boot and BDU.
After forcing his leg out, he stumbled up a hill, seeing a Russian MIG flying to the crash site.
"We've got to move! Now!" the veteran began sprinting across the icy forest, snow crunching beneath his boots.
"Вот они! стрелять американцы!" (there they are! Shoot the Americans!)
Bullets danced around the crashsite, aimed at Ace and Ponce. While the LMG suppressd them, Russian infantry dropped out of the helicopters by support cable.
"открытый огонь!"(here! open fire!) yelled the Russians, beginning to fire at the rangers with their AK-74s and AKMs.
 
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"Fuck! Contact!" Yelled Ace as the Russian MIG opened fire. The bullets kicking snow up into the air in powdery bursts. Adam followed Ford and pulled out his M16 to return fire. Adam managed to kill one of the rappelling Russians as they were coming down. "Get to cover, don't get pinned down." Yelled Adam as he moved behind the cover of a large tree. He could hear the LMG chewing at the bark and the ground around him. He peaked out slightly with his M16 and continued to return fire. The weapons roaring with each three round burst that was fired. The slight kick of the rifle giving Ace some sense of cover knowing that they weren't totally outgunned. He wasn't sure what they wold do about the chopper though. He'd probably have to take the gunner with his sniper rifle.
 
"aim at the pilot's glass! It's bullet proof but it can't withstand an entire mag!" ford yelled, shooting at the pilot. The pilot responded by swinging the helicopter around I avoid the bullets, exposing the gunner.
"OR go for the gunner! Whoever is an easier target!"
The PKP on the MIG swung around and about, going from Ace to Ford since they were the ones moving, Ponce having been near the wreckage and out of the gunners sight. Ford pulled his bolt back, confirming he had bullets remaining in his magazine.
He took aim, but not at the gunner, instead at the Russians on the ground. It would give Ace time to aim in at the gunner and take the attention towards himself.
The Russians weren't stupid bullet sponges, only one of them being killed. He others jumped down by pieces of the helicopter and began formations to try and return fire.
The Russians appeared to be either conscripted trainees or just rookies. Either way, they were way out of their league- not only were they facing the rangers, but they were pissed off rangers.
 
"Got it!" Yelled Ace as he switched his attention to the chopper gunner. If he could take out the pilot then he could kill two birds with one stone, but his focus was the gunner seeing as he was the only one who could really pose a threat outside of the ground troops. Ace aimed down his sights and fired a burst but missed as the pilot repositioned the chopper.

Adam waited for the right moment as the helicopter came back to make it's next run before firing another burst. Two out of the three bullets hit the gunner and he fell back into the interior of the helicopter. Ace couldn't tell if the gunner was dead or not, but as of now they weren't getting LMG fire, which was always good.

"
Gunner down, KIA non-confirmed" he yelled as he brought his sights back down to the soldiers on the ground. Ace shifted right and fired at a partially exposed Russian soldier. The soldier fell to the ground then reached for his sidearm, Adam put a bullet in his head before the Russian could even get the pistol holster opened. "One down, reloading" yelled Adam as he ejected a mag from his M16 then replaced it with a loaded one.

Adam noticed the chopper turning back toward the direction from which it came. The angle at which ace was standing let him see the pilot through the open gunner door. He took a deep breath as he raised his sights then fired. He watched the pilot's brains fly onto the windshield. "
That's for Sanchez!" He yelled as the chopper began to fall.
 
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