Infection / Destruction / Hope

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Raccoon_City_Survivor

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Reply with quote  #26 

He recognized the voice, and looked into those brown eyes very carefully. "Sir."

"Been awhile." He said, slinging his suppressed Colt M4. "You can cut the 'sir' shit, Wolf."

Wolf looked around--no Carriers in sight. "Is that my last right as a living man, Carter?"

He narrowed his eyes at Wolf, rubbing his beard. "No. I would've killed you way back--all those months ago. Back when the Jackal was on your tail." He noticed Wolf's features change. "Ah, remembering old comrades, eh? He was ordered to kill you."

"By who?" Wolf wanted to know.

"Top." Carter replied. He saw a Carrier in the distance. It hadn't noticed either of them. Yet.

"And not you?" Wolf asked, coiling his muscles so that he could charge the man. While he did that, his mind raced; he asked himself why Carter had chosen to speak with him. Something seemed a bit off by this whole situation, really. But, again, something told Wolf that everything was all right. He had to trust his instincts on this one.

Carter chuckled. "Let's head inside--I'll tell you all about it."

****

Top was furious. "You're going to fucking tell me we haven't heard from this guy in two months and I wasn't notified until now? He was to report in every three days. That was an order." He slammed his fist on the counter.

The radio operator grimaced. 'We thought maybe his radio was disabled."

Top glared at her. "This man is so resourceful he could find a way to wipe his own ass with a hammer and your telling me he is having trouble with a radio?" He shook his head. I want a manuscript of his last transmissions. Now." He held out his hand and the woman handed him a sheet of paper. He read it and his face turned red. The last transmission was cut off in mid-sentence: "I am not sure, but I believe I am being followed. This man is good, as I have not seen a trace of him. Maybe he'll reveal him--"

"Where's the audio?" He asked the woman. After she flipped a few switches, he was listening to the man talk. And right after the sentence had been cut off, Top heard a low growl.

He had her repeat the clip. "Carter." He spat.


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Reply with quote  #27 
Quote:
Originally Posted by Raccoon_City_Survivor
Wolf awoke to the wind blowing through the first floor of the two-story house. As usual, he lay in the attic and away from prying eyes. The whistling was constant and had not been there before. Instantly alert, he donned his pack, slung his rifle and unholstered his sidearm. In a crouch, he waited at the top of the pull-down ladder for any telltale noise of an intruder.

Just figured I'd point this out: I fucked up here, guys.  I meant to post this and completely forgot:

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Originally Posted by Raccoon_City_Survivor

Seven months later, Wolf awoke to the wind blowing through the first floor of the two-story house. As usual, he lay in the attic and away from prying eyes. The whistling was constant and had not been there before. Instantly alert, he donned his pack, slung his rifle and unholstered his sidearm. In a crouch, he waited at the top of the pull-down ladder for any telltale noise of an intruder.


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Raccoon_City_Survivor

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Reply with quote  #28 
Sorry, fellas.  It's been awhile.  I've been hanging out and I trying to fix these few viruses I had on my computer.  I'll try to update more frequently.
 

During the onset of the rise of the Morningstar virus, which seemed like ages ago to Carter, he stood behind and to the left of Top as he spoke on the phone. Although it was hard to tell what manner of information he was listening to, Carter had put in many years as Top's XO and could tell right off the bat.

It was not good.

After a moment, Top grunted and hung up, then turned to Carter, "due to the recent events overseas concerning this new virus, they have cut our funding and requested that we disable all communications with our men around the world."

Carter grunted, fucking poloticians. "Good thing we have precautions set in case this would occur, sir."

"I am aware of that, Carter." Top said, walking over to the communications console. "Red One-Two, Red One-Two, come in. Over." There was a cackle, and then a response. "Code Six. I repeat, go to Code Six. Do you copy, over?" He recieved an affirmation.

Carter turned to face Top. "Sir, that is not the proper code for what we had agreed on." Top didn't respond. Carter approached him and put a hand on his shoulder to turn him around.

But Top had expected that. Without turning, he lashed out with his leg and kicked Carter in the gut, doubling him over and sending him sprawling back. Carter, caught unaware by the brutal kick to his midsection, found himself on the floor and gasping for air. He rose up to his feet and faced the man.

"Carter, I will not be at fault for my men dying. These deaths will be the fault of this administration. They have to realize that we are a necessary force in this war and the many more to come."

The XO had known his longtime CO and friend had been deteriorating mentally, but he had not known how much until now. He looked Top in the eye and pulled the pistol from his holster, pointing it at Top's midsection. "I can't let you do this, sir. Call in and have those men transported to safety. Now."

Top shook his head.

Carter's features were rock-solid. He pulled the trigger twice, and Top fell to the ground. Carter raced over to the console and began to hail Red One-Two. Without notice, an arm wrapped around his neck and the barrel of a pistol was pressed against his head. "No you don't, Carter."

Carter could feel the hard bullet-proof vest against his back. He compressed his lips tightly, mad that in his haste he hadn't followed up with a shot to the head. He managed to say, "you... n-need... help..."

Top scoffed. "No, this nation needs help--a wake-up call for all their misdeeds."

"And y-you... think... k-killing... your own m-men... will..." Top let him go, holstering his pistol. Carter gasped for air and had enough time to look up before the butt of a rifle slammed into his face. He swam toward the waterfall of unconsciousness and, before falling over, heard Top say three words to a security officer.

"Dispose of him."

When he awoke he was outside, being dragged between two men. He was far away from the compound, judging from the sand brushing by his knees. He took in everything that he knew. His hands were tied behind him, he was in a desert, and there were at least two men escorting him to his death. Fantastic.

He grunted.

"Hey, he's coming to." The man on his right said to the other. "Let's just do it here."

Carter guessed the other man had agreed because he was dropped. He opened his eyes and looked to the men that had escorted him. The man that had been on his left pulled his sidearm out and pointed it at Carter. "I'm very sorry you have to see me do this, sir."

The other man looked at his quizzically, that was an odd thing to say.

He brought the pistol up and shot the man twice in his chest, and once in his head. He lowered the pistol and dropped a pair of handcuff keys on Carter's chest. "Do your best, sir." And he was gone. Carter lay there in the sun for a moment longer, laughing.


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Raccoon_City_Survivor

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Reply with quote  #29 

So, is there anyone still interested in this story?


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Reply with quote  #30 
Please sir, can I have more?

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Reply with quote  #31 
A little bit:

Weeks after the betrayal Carter sat in a vehicle in South America, an old car with no discernable markings aside from the discolored rear fender. He had been instructed to sit at this intersection until instructed otherwise. He was nervous--first time since he had joined the Scouts. He was going to see a man he hadn't seen in a long time, the prodigy from the First Generation. No one knew him further than his callsign: Reaper.

As the first streaks of the morning shown across the sky, his mood shifted. People were beginning to wake, and he didn't like it. He was in the open, exposed. He was a man of infinite patience at times, but even he had limitations. He checked the time on his watch and pull out his satellite phone. It was an off-the-records communicator. After years of experience, he had always known that safe deposit box in Provo, Utah would come in handy. After a quick stop by there, he was ready to make contact with Reaper in South America.

A truck rolled by, the occupants eyeing him with curiousity. He didn't even give them a second glance. They were of no concern to him. The three men coming up behind him were--especially since the one in lead had a World War Two-era 1911 tucked in the front of his trousers. Carter smiled to himself. He had found it hard to believe that Reaper had wanted to speak with him, but there had been no one else to turn to. It was a tough break, but he could deal with dying in this shithole.

The leader wrapped his finger against the window, signaling him to roll it down. "Mr. Carter, I represent the man you wanted to see. Move to the back seat and put this over your head." He indicated a burlap sack in his other hand.

Carter sighed inwardly. He noted the blood stain. Always the blood-stained burlap. Always. He complied and was glad to have the bag taken off over an hour later. To his surprise, Reaper was sitting before him without a care in the world, seemingly, on the edge of his desk with a USP pistol well within arm's reach. Carter also noted that he had not been stripped on his sidearm, which he found odd.

"I trust you, that's why." Reaper had always had that knack. Carter told him so. Reaper replied, "When you have a man like Top after you, it's hard to let your guard down."

Carter nodded, grimacing. "I would imagine so. Now the reason I'm here; I need safe passage to my boys overseas, and an extraction team, as soon as it is possible. Within a few days, I hope." He shook his head, wary from his travels. "They may already be dead, Reaper. And you're the only man in this world right now that I can trust."

Reaper stood and walked around to his seat at the desk, as he did so he said, "Unfortunately, I don't have that sort of equipment anymore."

Carter smiled at Reaper's bluff. "Bullshit. I know for a fact you have been feeding the US a number of leads on this terrorist business since years before 9/11. If you expect me to believe this for a second, I'm not quite sure you know me."

Reaper clapped his hands softly. "So you and Top have been keeping tabs on me. Good to know I'm still in league with the good guys." He said sarcastically.

Carter stood, their eyes locked. "Are you going to help me, or not?"

Reaper opened up a drawer and extracted a picture from his desk, sliding it to Carter. "He knows where I am." The picture was of a Russian assassin, one that had been captured several years ago. He was believed to have been killed. "This man tried to kill Top, I stopped him but before I could kill him he was taken away by Top. Read the reverse side."

"STILL ALIVE," it read. Carter looked to Reaper as he pulled a stack of them from his desk. Each showed the man in varied forms of disarray. He was being mistreated in a cell, but as he was a Russian spy, Carter couldn't give any less of a shit. They all had the same thing written on the back, same as the first. After flipping through the six pictures, Carter asked, "why are you showing me these, again?"

Reaper stood. "I recieve one of these each year at Christmas time. One of the locals brings it to me, tells me a man in a suit paid him to deliver it here." He stacked them up and placed them back in his drawer. Carter signaled to the pictures, asking what the writing meant. Reaper had to think about it for a second. "It's a threat. Once this Ruskie dies, my number's up aswell. That's what I believe it means, of course."

"And what does it have to do with me?" Carter asked.

Reaper holstered the pistol. "It means that we have three days before he can follow your trail that leads him to my doorstep. So we had better get cracking, Sir." He slapped Carter on the back and began walking as he talked, "Let me show you the epicenter of my domain. Now, from what I hear, the Middle-East is in even more of a state of panic than before. That new virus that reanimates dead bodies is spook city for most of the people over there. It's off limits to all sorts of traffic--air, land, sea. It's a mess over there."

"But?" Carter asked, as he knew what was coming.

"But we'll land you wherever you need to be." Reaper grinned.


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SOBChaos

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Reply with quote  #32 
Great story, more! Oh and love the Burn Notice quote in your sig.
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Raccoon_City_Survivor

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Reply with quote  #33 
Thanks, and thanks.

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Reply with quote  #34 
Thank you, RCS,  for giving us more. Keep it up. 

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Reply with quote  #35 

more! im hooked


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Reply with quote  #36 

Digging it here too.  Not sure if it's what you're going for, but Top's character is beginning to give me a Col. Kurtz feel. 

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Reply with quote  #37 
Col. Kurtz?  Apocalypse Now?  Never personally seen all the movie, just remembering what my dad's told me of it.

Also, thanks, guys.  I'm going to write some today.

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Quote:
Originally Posted by Raccoon_City_Survivor
Col. Kurtz?  Apocalypse Now?  Never personally seen all the movie, just remembering what my dad's told me of it.

Also, thanks, guys.  I'm going to write some today.


Yep.  It's one my all time favorites.  If you decide to check it out (obviously I suggest you do) plan accordingly b/c it pretty long.  Looking forward to see what you come up w/ next. 
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When the next day was up Carter had stopped his attempt to track down his agents. The Middle-East was in shambles over the new virus, and if they were alive they were good at keeping low. He couldn't find one of them, and knew that it would be fruitless if they didn't want to be found. He typed a few keys and a new screen showed up, displaying his location. The coast was not far--probably two miles. He had known this, he could smell the saltwater.

After a few more searches, Reaper walked inside the room. "How's the search going? Where are our comrades?"

Carter prused his lips, shrugging. He was weary from sitting in front of the computer. He hadn't had any good amount of sleep in the past few weeks. "If alive, they're not wanting to be found. And that made my job a bit harder and easier at the same time."

Reaper looked at him. "How do you mean?" He sat down on the edge of a desk across the room.

Carter smiled grimly. "I can now concentrate on Top. My men can handle themselves if they're alive--if not..." He left that open and stood up, stretching his legs. He saw Reaper nod to a cot in the corner of the room. Carter smiled at the uncomfortable canvas cot, but he had slept in more uncomfortable places. "That looks like a great way to spend a few hours."

Reaper also nodded to a room down the hall. Armory on the left, restroom on the right." He stood and walked away. "I'd suggest you make a pack for when we need to haul ass, " He threw that over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

Carter stood and went down the hall, turning left and gazing at crate upon crate of old Soviet surplus. He grabbed an AK-47 and worked the action. He wasn't as much of a fan of the Kalashnikov, but as he looked around the room at the crates bearing Russian markings he realized he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Although the 7.62x39mm round was easy to come by in the states, he couldn't forsee using this weapon long term there. He made a mental note to find something more "stateside-friendly" when the arrived at his home country.

After loading up a pack with necessary equipment to arm a one-man guerilla war against any known army in the world (that was technologically impaired, of course), he brought the pack to his cot and sat there, his eyes feeling tired. He looked down to the dark brown furniture on the weapon and smiled. He had known a man, years ago, who had loved the Kalashnikov. Wolf. The last Carter had heard about the man was that Wolf had been extracted from a North Korean prison shortly before Top's betrayal. Wolf hadn't been seen or heard from since.

A thought crossed his mind, making his eyes snap open and his thoughts of sleep deteriorate. He walked quickly to the satelite uplink and began his search. Perhaps he could find it. After hours of searching, he finally found one sign that showed him Wolf was still alive. He found it in Virginia, a low-power beacon that was relaying morse code. They were given to operatives overseas for extraction if they were ever called back. He watched it loop once and quickly translated it in his mind.

It said, "WOLF OH-ONE-ONE-SIX-EIGHT-NINE"

The numbers were his soldier personal identification number (SPIN) for the Scouts. It was him, all right. And he knew that they could find him. The States were in shambles now, he knew it. Wolf wouldn't have activated the beacon unless there had been something wrong. Just then, the beacon faded and went out. The man had dropped it not long ago--perhaps four days.

Now he needed to find him--a red light flicked on the computer screen, informing him there was a breach in the security. He grabbed his pack and that night's MRE he hadn yet to eat. Checking the chamber of the weapon, he waited for Reaper to give him the, "all clear." But he knew the likeliness of that occuring was nil.


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tylor_j_m

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Reply with quote  #41 
It just keeps getting better. Great Job RCS! Keep it coming

Interesting side note, im past the 20 posts so star wars references will abound.

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Reply with quote  #42 
Sorry, guys.  I've been sitting on this next part for awhile--trying to make it good.  Hopefully, it is.  And everyone thanks Livy for telling me how he thought another story of mine was good and making me get off my ass to write this bit. As always, typo's ahoy!

As Carter stood ready behind cover, his rifle trained on the only entrance to the room, he heard footsteps and, although muted, loud voices hollering back and forth. Finally, Reaper came into the room with a pump-shotgun and signaled for Carter to follow him with a wave of his hand. The man followed suit, his AK at the ready and his eyes searching for enemies.

Reaper nodded. "We need to get going, now. Down the hall, to the right--there's an escape hatch in the bathroom floor." He motioned for Carter to lead as he followed, covering the rear. The hall ended and Carter turned right, as instructed. He inspected the floor as Reaper finally caught up with him.

Carter knelt down and lifted the rug to find bare floor, no hatch, nothing. He had been duped. His hand made it halfway to tripping Reaper to gain the upperhand when the stock of a shotgun smashed into his head. He slumped to the floor, stunned. Althought blackness was overtaking him quickly due to his fatigue, he managed to flip onto his back and look up into the face of the man he had thought he could trust.

With a sigh, the blackness envoloped him.

For a moment he was dreaming. He couldn't remember the first time he had dreamt. He was swimming. It was way back--when he was younger and qualifying physically for the SEALs. And there was Top, watching from the shore. At the time Carter hadn't known who Top was--the mysterious man had only been a Lieutenant back then, and he had also had a name. It was on the tip of his tongue as he was pulled down and water splashed onto his face.

"Wake up, Carter!" came Reaper's voice. He repeated it once more before Carter opened his eyes and winced at the pain on the back of his head. He couldn't believe it. Reaper had turned on him--but what in God's name for? He asked the man. Reaper only smiled, "I'm going to get my life back," he told Carter, kneeling down and throwing the bucket aside. "Or, more accurately, I'm going to get your life." He stood and waved to the approaching helicopter and then looked back to Carter. "I'm Top's new second-in-command."

Carter looked around. He was in the lawn outside Reaper's HQ. He stared at Reaper, then to the helicopter slowing overhead. He couldn't help himself from laughing.

Reaper scowled, kicked him in the ribs. "Easy, Carter. Top wants you alive, but he didn't say you had to be unhurt!"

Carter shook his head, chuckling. "He wouldn't do it for anything. You're a bad apple, that's why you were kicked out." He motioned to Reaper's HQ. "You've got your mud hut here because Top can't kill you for all the information you've stored away. You're tactically significant, too. Let me ask you this: Did you contact Top? Or was it the other way around?"

Reaper looked down at him, Carter could see a hint of a quizzical expression as the chopper hovered at twenty feet in the air. "He contacted me."

Carter felt like a fool. He had to scream over the rotors, "he knew I would come here!"

Just as Reaper looked back into the sky the side doors to the helicopter opened and two shots were heard, then a man dangling from a rope was dropped to three feet above the ground. Reaper frowned when he saw who it was, Carter frowned also--not of who it was suspended three feet above the ground, but rather how his cause was lost.

Reaper could only manage to utter the word, "no" as he walked closer to the freshly dead body of a very haggard-looking Russian assassin.

Top stuck his head out of the helicopter with a bullhorn and stated loudly, "I couldn't wait for him to die of natural causes, Reaper!" As if on cue, a dozen men in camo surrounded Carter, Reaper, and his men. They were Top's men, and weren't to be taken lightly. They disarmed Reaper's men, killing them with single shots to theirs heads in such quick sucession that it was over before the chopper touched the ground.

Reaper was likewise disarmed, still stunned by the broken promise. Carter was still shaking his head, thinking of what a fool he was. There was simply no other place he could have gone where he could have researched and found his men. Now it was all for naught. To occupy himself, he tried to find out what was binding his hands so securely.

"Reaper, Carter! Good to see you both." He threw an arm around Reaper, who hadn't taken his eyes off the assassin. "I knew the only way to get you to turn on your old pal was to promise you something far better than this, Reaper." He waved around, then frowned and dismissed it with a different wave. "Enough of that," he said, returning his attention to the corpse. "Our friend Sergei was delighted to hear he'd die today, or so I gathered. He hasn't spoken in years." He moved Reaper closer to the body, Carter seeing them slowly getting further. He guessed it to be about thirty feet--too far away for him to get free of his plastic cuffs and kill the man without the camo-clad men cutting him down.

Carter tried to recognize their faces, but couldn't. These were all unfamiliar. Top took notice of this, and laughed. "Carter, you underestimate me! After your sacrificial lamb let you free, I had to kill the remaining second generation. These are the third--fresh. I needed men to rely on that didn't even know your name." He looked to them, as if they were his own flesh and blood. He closed the gap between himself and Carter and knelt three feet from the prone man. "You know, this was their first run--well, real run. They've had hours of simulations." He stood and glanced to one of the soldiers. "Everyone did well except for you." He moved closer and unholstered his pistol. "I could see you from overhead." He double-tapped the man in the chest and turned to Reaper.

"Any last words before you die?" Top asked him.

The gunshot had awoken him, his eyes saw clearly. He looked at Top and smiled. "Boom." He pressed a button under his skin on the back of his palm and activated a claymore-like device that had been sewn into him. The steel ball-bearings tore through his skin and sent the three men near Top to their graves while a small group of four BBs punctured Top's side and upper chest.

Reaper fell to his knees, coughing up blood. He scowled in agony and nodded to Carter before a hail of bullets tore him away from reality.

When the smoke settled Carter was nowhere to be found.


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steve2267

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Reply with quote  #43 
A great read!  Any more forthcoming? 

My only quibble is that a suppressor suppresses BOTH sound AND flash.  That is, a suppressed pistol is NOT going to be causing flashes of light to appear in a room.  If this were not so, then in addition to seeing muzzle flash, you would hear muzzle blast -- you get one with the other.

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Reply with quote  #44 
It was a test, Steve. You passed.
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Reply with quote  #45 
At the time, Steve, I wasn't very read into suppressors.  Since then I've been exploring ways to suppress an AR-10 and have found that out.  I just haven't wanted to correct it.

But I appreciate it when people do that.  It really sets authors straight (especially aspiring authors).

At this time, I'm not sure where to go after what happens next.  I'm working on another project right now--and juggling work, social activities, and leveling up in Black Ops--so I won't be writing anymore of this for the time being.  Once I get the next step established I'll probably sway over here and start writing again.

Thanks for asking, though.  And remember that there is more fiction around (by myself and more talented authors), so you guys aren't stuck with me.

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Reply with quote  #46 
By all that, he means it was a test, Steve. And you passed.
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Reply with quote  #47 


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Reply with quote  #48 
Need more please. This guy reminds me of the Col from Avatar. Love it.

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Reply with quote  #49 
Bueller............Bueller.
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Reply with quote  #50 
^lol
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