I jolted as if I was jump-started by a car battery.
"Woah, easy there brother." a deep voice came from my front.
Truck, my own deep-voiced squad-mate.
It took me a while, but I realized that I was sitting in a chopper. That was airborne. A couple of thousand feet above ground. Last time I was in a chopper, I recalled almost booking a one-way trip to a very solid, hard, and literally bone-breaking place. Simply put, I almost fell to death.
Then I realized, I woke up in the very same chopper that I almost fell off from.
Haven't switched choppers since, not even once.
Then again, for what? No country's army in their right mind in any corner in the world is going to deliberately move a chopper's passengers to another just because one passenger had traumatic experiences.
"Come on Grinch, give the guy some time to rest. He almost fell off from here not one hour ago." said Sandman, joining in on the conversation.
Grinch retaliated. "Sorry sir, it's not like I knew that Frost was sleeping. He had his whole face covered, for God's sake."
"Man, are those shades darkening your vision? 'Cause I sure as hell can tell that Frost is sleeping," Truck bantered, nudging Grinch on the shoulder.
"Not you too, Truck? Give me a break. Alright, how can you tell?"
"Well, he was slumped on his seat. You can also see that he was taking longer breaths. Ah, who am I kidding, of course you couldn't have seen that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have woken up Frost in the first place." explained Truck.
There was small laughter in the cockpit. Grinch shifted in his seat, irritated. "Real funny, Truck. Of course, I wouldn't have had much problem determining if TRUCK's asleep than I did Frost. You see, he got his name Truck from--"
"You really want to take it there, Grinch? The whole Metal team present here already knew that."
"Really now?" Grinch turned towards me, who was sitting across him. "Frost, you know about the humble origins of Truck's namesake?"
Of course I knew. The whole Metal crew knew.
"You didn't tell me where and when, but you did tell me of that one time Truck fell asleep before everyone else. He snored so loud, so deep, and so intense that when you heard a supply truck going off in the distance, you can't really tell the two sounds apart from one another. You said that he snored just as loud as a truck, maybe even a little bit more."
Grinch paused. Taken aback, apparently.
"Woah, Frost. You're not that quiet, I suppose."
Another second passed.
"That, and you've described the origin perfectly!"
Laughter broke. This time, I'm part of it.
Grinch spoke up again. "But seriously though, I thought you were THAT quiet."
Sandman came in second. "Maybe he IS that quiet, Grinch. After all, he was too busy doing most of our heavy-lifting to have the luxury of talking as much as you."
Grinch was taken aback. Again. "Wow boss, not you too." He then turned towards me. "But seriously though--I mean it this time--you don't talk much, Frost."
"You ask me, I was just in too much awe," I replied.
"Awe? You're not telling me that there was your first rodeo, are you?" Grinch asked.
"Well, to be fair, in the mission before 'that there' I was just providing sniper support."
"That true, boss?"
"Yeah, Frost provided fire support with me at that time. Operation Kingfish. You know how it went."
Grinch nodded slowly, as if catching the real message. Then he turned towards me again. "So, you didn't really get into the action at that time, huh?"
"Yeah, you could say that. One hour ago was the rare moment I really got my boots on the ground. Saw how shit went down the way it really was. Far from dull, you ask me."
Not much came out of Grinch's mouth this time. Just a quite 'woah' in agreement.
"That, and you've stolen all my witty comebacks back there."
"Not you too, Frost!" Grinch squeaked. Again, laughter.
We went quiet when we heard someone talking. This time, it was not from either of us. Someone else. By radio.
Overlord.
"Good work, Sandman. We've regained air dominance over Manhattan and pushed the front line back to the river."
"What's our next target?" Sandman asked.
"The Russian command vessel is an Oscar-two submarine carrying enough cruise missiles to level the entire Eastern seaboard. We need to strike fast before they can launch a counter attack."
"Roger, what's the mission?"
"Infiltrate the vessel, take over the bridge, then turn their weapons against their own fleet. I need you to link up with SEALs and get it done. Good luck."
Radio went off.
Sandman prepped the team up. "Kit up, boys."
"What's our infil point?" Truck asked.
"Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel."
"I thought it collapsed."
"It did." Sandman verified.
Nice. Stakes did not go down I see. Back at New York, should we fail to make the jammer go boom, what's at stake? New York. Now, should we fail to take over the submarine in time, what's at stake? New York.
Ah well, at least it did not go up. We haven't gotten to saving the world. Yet.
Right then.
Literal wet work it is.
***
Some two hours later, we were already in the Brooklyn-Battery tunnel.
Or what's left of it.
"...stay tight, easy to get separated down here." Sandman warned, as he finished cutting the grating blocking our way.
No wonder.
Of course it was easy to get separated in a tunnel completely submerged underwater. Not to mention the nonsensical amount of debris present in it. Top that with the fact that the tunnel is dark as night and murky as the waters on New York sewers, I'd say we got ourselves quite an unpleasant place to dive in.
Not that we were diving all by ourselves down here; we got the Navy SEALs with us.
Which is where, I presume, we got these neat underwater vehicles from.
By shape, I'd say it looked like an oversized torpedo. Propeller at one end, real round and blunt edge on the other end. Minus the warhead packed with explosives, of course. It also has a handle to help assist with the steering and a sonar radar display.
They call it SDV. SEAL Delivery Vehicle.
Well, I had to admit that the more field work you got, the more you know.
I didn't get much time to get used to the SDV however, as just after we got past the grating, we were greeted with a multitude of debris littering the tunnel. Cars, concrete, God-knows-what-else, and unfortunately, people.
"Damn. Think anyone got out?" asked Grinch.
"Nothing we can do for them now," Sandman answered.
I didn't even pay attention to what Sandman said next, probably something about degrees and distances. I was too busy trying to navigate a tunnel full of wreckage using a vehicle I didn't even know existed before. That, and silently thinking about what Grinch had said.
Did anyone actually got out?
People were probably trying to get as far away from the war as possible. Planes weren't an option, boats were not very safe, and cars wouldn't get you far away in time.
But to get stuck here when the tunnel got blown to hell?
When you were so close and yet so far?
Sandman was right. Nothing we can do for them right there and then.
"Metal 0-1, got you on the tracker."
Must be the SEAL guys.
"Roger, approaching rendezvous." replied Sandman as we approached the end of the tunnel.
I didn't pay attention to the sonar display my SDV had, but I did see some figures hovering just ahead of us by then. How many of them? Five? Six? I didn't really notice back then. All I know is that they were not there to shoot us.
Like I said before, the SEAL guys.
"I see them," Grinch remarked.
As we waded in closer to them, I was about to instigate small talk, something like "How's it going boys?" or "Nice weather today, huh?" but apparently one of the SEALs fired first.
"Sub's on the move. Intercept window is closing fast."
No time for chit-chat, I suppose.
"Roger that, lead the way." Sandman affirmed.
The rest of the team cranked their SDV's gear up a notch. I followed suit. Not so hard finding the gear-up button in this thing.
That being said, so far this one mission is nowhere near complicated. Meet the SEAL guys, get to big-ass submarine, hijack the thing, pull the missile trigger at the Russians. No big deal underwater, right?
"Watch your sonar. Russians are laying mines."
Oh, come on.
Ah well, at least I get to vanquish my curiosity on how this sonar display works.
Apparently, the big red blinking dots on the screen were the mines. Simple.
That, or I can simply look up and spot the mines myself. The mines themselves weren't exactly small, mind you. In fact, they looked like oversized sea urchins. With equally oversized chains sticking from their bottom side.
Still, staying well away from them would be nice.
"Mine!" Grinch called out.
What's yours, Grinch?
Oh, right. The mines.
"Keep it steady," Sandman instructed.
Steering the SDVs might not be easy, but compared to fighting your way through a leveled up avenue packed to the brim with Russian army dudes more than happy to kill you, this was a walk in the park.
"Clear," Sandman finally announced.
About time.
"Power down, here we go."
Like the crank-up-the-gear button, the power-down button was not really hard to find as well.
But why we were powering down, you might ask?
BEEP.
I checked my sonar. No mines.
BEEP.
Come to think about it, the beep was too loud to have come from my sonar.
BEEP.
It sounded deeper as well. Louder too, like it was boosted with a megaphone.
BEEP.
I checked my sonar again.
I saw the color red.
Only it wasn't a dot this time.
A gigantic oval so long the sonar screen had a difficult time containing it.
What else could it have been?
The sub itself.
Seconds after popping up on my sonar, the sub made an appearance right above me.
Menacing. Somewhat unnerving. Those would be the words I'd use.
I've seen the sub somewhere else before. On TV, on those military magazine articles, on the internet, you name it. The shape, the color, the size was already in my head, but to see it on your own is a whole other story.
It glided just above us smoothly as if we were not even there.
"Wait 'till she passes." Sandman remarked.
One.
Two.
Three.
By then, the submarine is almost directly to our front, with us positioned near its tail. Not so far from the gigantic propellers.
"Okay, go!" Sandman ordered.
Obviously we were not going to ask for the sub to stop politely, so we brought some mines of our own. Should everything go according to plan, the mines will detonate, the propeller will be disabled, and the sub will be forced to surface. That's where we would have gone in.
"Mine's armed. Clear out." Sandman confirmed as he swerved further from the sub.
"Good job. We'll prep the exfil." remarked one of the SEALs.
Right. So they won't even be with us when we kick down the sub's doors. They were just here for escort service, to put it bluntly. Not that it was a big deal, this got nothing with what we've done four hours earlier.
Then again, who was going to be on getaway if it wasn't for them?
"Going explosive. Hit it." Sandman dictated.
The mines went boom.
Of course, it wasn't as coarse and as loud as how it would've sounded above water, but the impact, the shockwave, and the loud thud was still prominently felt down here. Funnily enough, with all the water around, I still saw some fire from the explosion.
With that being said, the plan worked!
Sub's going on a sharp ascend, apparently surfacing with all those fireworks on its tail.
The rest of the Metal team followed suit.
"Overlord, this is Metal 0-1. Sub is surfacing. Commencing assault." Sandman reported.
"Roger, 0-1. Continue to primary objective. We need control of the sub's missiles." replied the man on the other side.
Loud and clear, general.
My head bobbed up from the water.
From there, I got an excellent view of a torn-apart New York.
High-rises getting parts of their structure chipped off, fire bouncing off from the skyline as like a basketball, choppers and fighter jets scrambling like flies to crap, and the best part of it is that I can proudly announce that I've been there. In the thick of it all. Running and gunning. Trying not to die. You know how it is.
Not five seconds I've been pondering the scene of New York, the sub abruptly emerged, effectively blocking my vision.
Enough of the sightseeing for today, Frost. Back to work.
I climbed on the sub, taking off my diving mask. I saw the rest of the team doing the same.
"Contact coming out of the hatch!" Sandman barked.
Nice. We got ourselves our own boarding party.
Good thing I brought something for the occasion.
A suppressed MP5 with a red dot sight.
The aforementioned boarding party got guns of their own, but we were faster than them.
Then I noticed two figures on the far side of the deck.
They seem to be proceeding on our position in haste, quite aggressively I might add. I looked thoroughly, they seem to be carrying guns. Guns that were trained on us.
Even the boarding party's got a little bit of reinforcement.
The sub machine gun I was carrying might not be the best when it comes to ranged battles, I noticed.
With that in mind, I fired only one-two rounds at a time.
Tick goes the bullet, its sound suppressed.
I saw blood flew from the faraway crewman.
Hit.
I fired again.
Tick.
Down he went.
I turned around to see Sandman wielding a grenade, staring down at the hatch.
"Frag out!" he yelled.
I heard the explosion from the outside. That, and sounds of people screaming.
"Deck secured. We'll hold topside." Truck declared.
I heard Grinch saying something similar, but I failed to notice over Sandman talking to me.
"Frost, head down the stairs."
An upgrade. I liked it. It was just me storming a roof full of enemies before, now it's just me AND SANDMAN storming a submarine full of enemies. I just somehow knew that Grinch would be holding the deck alongside Truck, otherwise it would be all four of us assaulting the submarine.
I inserted a new magazine into my gun.
Let's get down to business.
Seconds after I touched down the stairs, I spotted Sandman leaning next to a door, readying his gun, clicking it into action.
,
"Alright Frost, sweep and clear. All unknowns are hostile. Rendezvous downstairs."
Sandman turned the wheel on the door and pushed it open.
Both of us were immediately greeted by not-so-friendly-faces.
They were probably expecting us. Shouting stuff in Russian, probably saying something like "Get ready!" or "Incoming!" or "Enemy spotted!" in a language I knew nothing about.
Place beyond the door looked like a barracks of some sort, with the bunk beds populating the place.
I spotted two individuals by the door at the opposite end of the door we entered.
All unknowns are hostile, Sandman said.
I shot more rounds from my gun this time around, since I was fully aware that we were conducting some close quarters battle in the sub. Range wouldn't be an issue here. Also useful for making sure that the enemy stayed down for good.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick my sub machine gun went, spraying more bullets.
Both enemies went down.
One flinched, sitting up slowly, reaching into his pocket. I was sure as hell he wasn't going to reach for a portable white flag. No. He's reaching for a concealed pistol.
'Till your last breath. Go out with some honor. No problem for me.
Popped three more into his chest.
I walked to the door, checking on the bodies.
The crewmen didn't move again.
I made a silent tribute.
Pro patria mori, comrades.
Just ahead of the door to the left is yet another door, connected to a set of stairs leading down.
Shouting. As if someone's fighting. With fists.
Gun up, I put my finger on the trigger.
Almost like a streak of light, two figures appeared right in front of the doorway at the end of the stairwell, wrestling. One appeared to be tackling the other, throwing his opponent to the doorway. I had almost squeezed the trigger when I saw who's who.
The one tackling and throwing the other was Sandman. It seemed that Sandman had gotten into hand-to-hand combat with one of the crewmen of the sub.
Sandman's opponent was about to retaliate, attempting to regain footing.
The master sergeant launched his boot to the crewman's face.
He went still.
"Stairs clear." Sandman announced.
Damn, sarge. You're cold.
"Take left," Sandman instructed.
I noticed that the floors were literally flooded by then. It looked like the mines were a little bit too effective.
As I turned left, I noticed some crewmen at the end of the hallway trying to plug the leaks, repair the broken pipes, screw some screws, attempting to prevent the sub from completely sinking, by the looks of it. Apparently I didn't have to shoot them, since Sandman already did that for me. Not that I would've shot them anyways, since they were not even trying to hurt me at that time.
At the right side of the corridor are rows of windows to what looked like an engine room. The windows were not so big themselves, more like the width of a commercial airplane's side windows and twice the height. Upon closer inspection, the supposed 'engine' took up most of the room's space, with little space for actually walking within.
By then, bullets started whizzing through the windows.
They got good cover, the shooters. Windows are not big enough to enable return firing, and yet they need only to shoot at the windows to hit us, since our bodies easily cover the windows should we stand beside it.
Unfortunately, I didn't think of that after the bullets started flying, and instead wasted a good amount of bullets before relocating to the end of the hallway. I literally ran and gunned throughout that hallway before reaching the right turn at the end of the hallway, hoping to hit one guy on the other side.
What I found were two more guys crouching at the end of the corridor, waiting to get their trigger fingers some exercise.
I didn't think about how many bullets I got left; I just sprayed and prayed.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti--
One guy flew backwards. He was out.
--ti-ti-ti--
The other guy was hit on the shoulder. Impact got him good, although he was still standing.
Click.
Wait, what?
Click.
Out.
I saw the guy at the other side regaining balance.
No time to reload.
What did they teach you in training?
"Switching to your sidearm's much faster than reloading," Truck once said.
I flung my gun away and pulled out my pistol.
Don't let that guy go bang first.
Blinding spark came out from his gun.
He fired.
I sidestepped, unloading my silenced pistol at his direction, throwing myself to the wall beside me.
Did I get hit?
Sure as hell didn't feel anything. Apart from the sudden chilly sensation from the bullets nearly grazing my hip.
Did he get hit?
I saw him there, lying face up.
Yes, he did.
I took out my sub machine gun and ejected the now empty magazine, inserting in a new one.
At the end of the corridor was an intersection: just straight ahead leads to a doorway which leads to a stairwell going up, and to the right leads to, well, another corridor. The corridor that had the entrance to the engine room.
The path straight ahead was completely clear of enemies, so I turned right. Clear too.
Then I heard screams coming from the stairwell.
Sounded like two people.
I quickly spun to my left, to the stairwell I thought was empty.
Two figures were already descending down the stairwell.
I squeezed.
Too late.
I heard it first.
BANG.
Sounded too singular and too bold to be a sub machine gun, the kind these crewmen had been carrying all along.
Shotgun.
I didn't even move. I just pulled the trigger. If I were to go down, I might as well take these bastards with me.
Nothing.
Eyes still wide.
Feet still sturdy.
Nose still inhaling.
The pellets went clean off my head.
Holy shit.
I was so astonished that I forgot the two contacts right in front of me were already lying on the stairwell, dead.
I didn't even realize that my feet were already taking me forward, up the stairs, moving further into the submarine. My mind was still there, at the bottom of the stairwell, contemplating how I have literally brushed off death.
All in a day's work, huh?
As I ascend the stairwell, the intercom spouted out an announcement in Russian. Probably something like "the security has been breached" or something like that I initially thought, until Sandman told me the truth.
"They're going to scuttle the sub. We gotta move, now!"
And I thought they were trying to repair the ship. Good thing Sandman put those 'hole-pluggers' down. Turns out they were going with the 'if I'm going down, you're going down with me' gig, huh?
Also, I noticed that the corridor that the stairwell leads to was darker. In fact, it had no lights on. What remained were the good old red emergency lights and an emergency horn blaring about.
"Frost, take point," ordered Sandman, as we turned to a mini set of staircase leading to a massive room.
Looked like an escape pod room of some sort, by the looks of it. What, with a set of railing separating the walkway from the 'pods' and an intersection of walkways between each pods. Pods, since they were detached entirely from the walkway and had a big window in the center. Looked like that, felt like a maze. Plenty of good cover, actually.
Just three steps in into the strange room, I saw blazes of red lines shooting past me.
Laser sights.
See, the thing with laser sights is that it makes you more accurate. Hell, it was its very purpose, to gave the shooter a better sense of aiming. Also, to help with the hip-firing of their guns, should they be a little too lazy to actually aim down the sights. Last but not least, if used properly and somewhat masterfully, it can temporarily blind the enemy, allowing for a clear--and easy--shot.
But, with those bright red thing shooting from your gun, it gives one disadvantage. A fatal disadvantage at that.
You're basically giving your position away.
The enemy will, at the least, know where you're standing at. At the most, they'll know where you're aiming at, which enables them to flank you from an uncovered angle.
With that being said on my own Laser Sights 101, I used the enemies' laser sights to my advantage.
I noticed two streams of laser to my front. Two tangos.
Stupidly enough, they weren't even aiming at me at my point. They were just scurrying for cover with the laser sights on their guns turned on.
Simply put, I just put that situation to good use.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Two down.
One still moved.
Tick.
Not moving anymore.
I turned right, seeing as the walkway to my front ended to a T-junction. No one.
Saw one jet stream of red though.
Apparently he was expecting me to pop up just beyond this corner, probably with a sub machine gun. Maybe he got a partner with him as well.
Of course, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
So I proceeded straight, to the T-junction.
Beyond the T-junction was a gaping hole surrounded by the railings of the walkway. Completely empty on the center. Nothing in between, which means no cover for any shooters around it. I would definitely get a shot on the guy waiting back there.
Took five steps forward.
There he was, crouching there with a shotgun in hand. Man, that could've gone a lot worse.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Down.
Screams.
Strange, he was down for the count. Just lying there on the floor, no rolling around screaming in agony.
No.
This came from my right.
More like a battle charge.
I had no idea how, I had no idea why, I just ducked.
Felt something just on top of my head as I ducked. Something hard. Something swift. Something blunt.
Like a butt of a gun.
Someone had tried to bash my head in.
I stood up, knowing that this one basher guy probably had put all of his weight over my body by now. Should this work, he would've gone completely over my head, flipping over my body, landing to the floor back first. An overhead throw. More like a throw reversal, me reversing his attack into taking him down.
I pushed my body up.
Heavy.
Of course, this guy was literally on my shoulders now.
CLANG.
The sound of something heavy and big falling on the walkway. Like a slab of concrete.
Like a human body.
I turned, and there he was, writhing from immense sudden pain on his back.
Raising my gun, I simply returned the favor of trying to bash my head with a gun stock.
Lights out.
THWACK.
Probably broke his nose there.
Forward, Frost.
More shouts. They sounded somewhat faraway, like it was from a different room altogether. Yet it echoed very clearly throughout the massive room I was in. Sounds like they were fortifying their position, trying to hold out the two-man army tearing through the submarine.
Click.
I reloaded my gun.
Red beams were shot through the doorway to the next room. Another room of pods, walkways, railings, and a maze-feeling structure. The other guys were ready for us.
Let's earn their proper welcome.
Fired a burst of bullets at the foremost guy. Didn't really see whether it was a hit, though. All I knew was that the laser beams shot through the doorway were reduced by one. Probably shot his gun instead. Still, he wasn't going to fire anytime soon.
A storm of bullets ricocheted near my cover. Suppressing fire. No way I was going to stick my neck out there. Waiting for them to reload? Didn't have enough time--and bullets-- to put them all down at once.
Flashbang.
Pulled one out, yanked off the pin. Threw it at the wall opposite of me, knowing that it would bounce off the wall, directly to their position.
I was fully aware that the flashbang didn't give much time to take down all of the crewmen.
Just one milisecond before it exploded, I started to make a move.
BANG it went, with a blinding white light.
The crewmen were incapacitated.
Pacing straight forward, I shot anyone that looked like they were staggered after the sun was thrown at their faces.
One.
Two.
Three.
CLANG.
A bullet ricocheted off the wall to my left, barely missing me.
Shit.
More?
I turned right, firing blindly at the general direction of where the bullet came from.
A figure collapsed.
Laser beam shot beyond a corner where that one unlucky guy stood before.
Someone else, apparently.
Probably expecting me. Only this time, I couldn't really flank him, as judging by the erratic and uneven movement of the laser beam, he was moving fast. He was charging at my position.
Nah, I'm just going to wait here. No more intense close quarter combat for today.
And show up he did, only to be greeted by my own hail of bullets.
I turned right up the corner, only to see yet another shotgun-wielding crewman.
Oh, come on--
tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Down he went, face first into the metal walkway.
Sandman was behind him, smoke coming out from the barrel of his gun.
Another stairwell leading up.
"Hold position at the door!" barked Sandman.
This can only mean one thing.
We're about to blow up the door and start raining fire on whoever's behind it.
Breach and clear, baby. '
"Okay, put a kicker charge on the door." instructed Sandman.
Oh, so that's what this square thing I've been carrying around was called? A kicker charge?
I thought it was a serving tray for C4s.
I put the serving tray of kaboom to the door. It stuck. As if it got a super glue on it.
Sandman proceeded to put two pipes on just below the kicker charge, each pipes on either side of the kicker charge. Probably detonating bars to make sure the explosion knocked the door clean off the hinges. To make the kaboom has more 'oomph', so to speak.
He leaned on the side again, this time taking out a detonator.
Looking away, he clicked.
KA-BLAM!
Door went down. Both of us went in.
All of a sudden, the world went slow. Couldn't really figure out if my reflexes are really kicking in, or if I had one too many adrenaline shots the night before. Either way, it was all in slow motion, at least from my perspective.
There was smoke from the explosion, but I spotted some figures right up my front.
One was eerily close, lunging at me, holding something in his hand.
A knife.
Oh no, you don't.
Tick-tick-tick.
He went limp, his previous movement springing his body forward towards me.
Just behind him were two more guys, guns in hand, ready to put me down.
There were no cover from where I was standing.
Guess I had to improvise.
I reached out one hand, catching the dead knife guy, yanking him to my front.
A human shield.
I can't really fire my sub machine gun both logically and practically at this point, so took out my pistol.
Tick-tick.
Down.
A little to the right, and--
tick-tick-click.
My mind screamed "RELOAD!" but I saw what was supposed to be my target.
Dead.
Ah, what a coincidence.
I tossed the body away, getting a clearer look at the scene.
It was a control room, obviously, with a lot of screens displaying radar feed and consoles with a lot of adjusting needles and buttons. Looked like the most normal control room I had ever seen, complete with a ladder in the middle of the room leading to the deck topside.
Also, six dead sailors. I got three, so you can easily figure out how many Sandman got.
"Area secure." Sandman declared.
Sandman went over to one of the dead crewmen, the one I took out with a pistol. I thought he was about to poke it with his gun, trying to confirm his death. That, or attempting to ask him what's the launch code to the submarine's missile system. He might not be dead; my gun ran out of bullets when I was firing at him. He probably didn't even got the killshot.
Turned out, I was wrong on both accounts.
With his boot, Sandman flicked the crewmen to the side and rummaged through his pocket. He pulled out something the size of his finger pinch.
"Alright, I got the launch keys."
He did not even need to ask at all.
"Overlord, this is Metal 0-1. I send checkpoint Neptune, over."
I was so infested in storming the hell out of this submarine that I forgot that Overlord was waiting for our success at the other end of Sandman's line. Probably sweating with anticipation. Or with anxiety. Or both.
"Roger, 0-1. Copy, Neptune." replied Overlord from the other side.
"I have the missile key and I'm accessing the launch codes now."
"Grid coordinates follow," Overlord instructed.
" Tango Whiskey zero five six six two eight."
You got that, Sandman? I can repeat it for you if you didn't.
"Coordinates confirmed. Firing on Russian fleet in thirty seconds." Sandman affirmed.
He got it alright.
"Frost, get on the console!" he said to me. To who else, if not me?
Of course, there was a lot of consoles in the room, but I figured out that the one I needed to be one was the one with a key slot on it, similar to Sandman's. I was not supposed to actually USE this consoles now, wasn't I? Clue number two: it was not too far from Sandman's console.
I found just the one three steps away.
Putting my gun away, I turned to Sandman. He motioned, reaching out his hand, another key in his hand. Three steps away was a little too far to pass that thing, wasn't it?
Unless you were looking to TOSS the key.
And so he did.
I was afraid that he tossed wrong, or that I was a bad catcher. Come on. Not at this moment. Please.
The key was airborne.
Reaching out my palm, I felt it on my grasp.
Got it. Phew.
Inserting it into the one hole fit for it in my console, I turned to Sandman again.
"Three, two, one, turn!"
For a milisecond I was afraid the key jammed because it was, well, the wrong key, or it broke because I exerted too much force in turning it. Should that happen, I couldn't even begin to imagine what should Sandman explain to Overlord. The whole operation was blown, we lost New York and possibly the whole country because some incompetent jackass couldn't turn a fucking key. Man, what a horrible scenario.
Click.
Green light.
Phew. Again.
I caught a glimpse of Sandman pressing a small button on the console, not so far from the key slot. I tried the same.
Part of the console sprung open, revealing a big red button underneath.
This must've been one of those buttons, huh? The big red button that will definitely bring total annihilation to a country should it fall to the wrong hands. The big red button that will end everything. The big red button that launches nukes and fires cruise missiles.
And I get to press it.
PEEP.
I heard Sandman announcing the launch to Overlord. "Missiles armed and launching!"
Enjoy the taste of your own medicine.
I spun my head around. Sandman was gone. Not really, as I caught a glimpse of his feet climbing up the ladder in the middle of the room.
"Roger. SEAL team in position for exfil."
Ah, the getaway guys.
As I clamped my fingers on the first step, I noticed that Sandman was already on topside, completely off the ladder.
Just as I took my first step topside, my ear was bombarded with the sound of jet engine. I didn't have to look; two jet fighters flew just over my head. That couldn't have been my exfil, could it?
Again, I caught glimpse of Sandman running to the left side of the deck.
When I got there, I spotted Sandman boarding a small dinghy-shaped motorboat. Zodiacs, they have taken to call it. As I jumped on board, I saw another zodiac far ahead of our own. I started to wonder who was on it until Sandman called out.
"Grinch, Truck, let's roll!"
You can't have one without the other, huh?
"Amen to that!" Truck shouted back.
Amen to that indeed, Truck.
Sitting on the Zodiac's front, Sandman yelled just one command at me.
"Frost, punch it!"
Don't need to tell me twice, sarge. Hell, you don't even need to tell me at all, I would've punched it anyway.
As I cranked the boat speed to its highest gear, I noticed the side of the submarine opening up like a car trunk, revealing missile silos. The missiles within were shot up to the sky mere seconds after the side opened up. It was almost as if we got our own fireworks display on our way out.
"Missiles launching!" Sandman shouted.
Jet engines blared through the horizon. Missiles and warheads shot up from nearby battleships like a champagne cork, leaving a trail of thick smoke behind. Explosions decorate the sky like baubles on a Christmas tree. Smaller ships, including ours and Truck's, run amok like a headless chicken. What a mess, I gotta say. Not as much of a mess as downtown New York, but still.
"Keep up with that Zodiac!" reminded Sandman, referring to Truck's Zodiac, darting ahead of us.
Two smaller ships approached our left side. Far as I was concerned, we didn't get 'escort from the Navy in form of smaller battleships' in our deal today, so I'd say they were not on our side. And right I was about them, since they started spitting out bullets on us the second I got them on my sights.
Unless I got a better plan on evading them, I'd say following Truck and Grinch is essential to my survival.
Truck's Zodiac veered right, conveniently towards the space between two destroyer ships. Bullets barely missed us, either whizzing past my ear or hitting the ocean beneath us.
Not a very evasive maneuver I gotta say, since there were plenty of space between both ships, and none of their occupants are shooting at us. Plus the fact that the destroyers certainly gave us excellent cover against those pesky small ships, we got ourselves a short break.
Then the ship on our left tilted.
Shit.
Is it capsizing? Coming down on our heads?
Come on, not now. Not when we've come this far.
A gush of wave shot out from beneath it, jouncing our boat.
I didn't really care about the possibility of a big-ass battleship dropping on our heads, I just went forward.
Not today.
The boat landed, still going full throttle.
We've reached the destroyer's rear.
It had stopped moving.
Not today.
Truck's Zodiac veered right again, this time with the enemy boats following. Not so different than before, still shooting at us.
I noticed we were approaching towards the space between another two destroyers.
The only difference being both of them definitely capsizing.
Missiles from the submarine hit both the destroyers simultaneously with a BOOM as we jetted past, sending them up in flames and shooting debris from the deck. Black smoke and shrapnel went off wildly from them, I wondered if anyone on board survived.
"Keep on going, Frost!"
As much as I was astonished by the view, there was no way in hell I'll slow down.
As the smoke cleared, I spotted the Zodiac in front of us veering to the right again, avoiding a destroyer sitting right to our front. Or what used to be a destroyer, since another missile came straight out of heaven and blew it to pieces.
Steering the boat right, I got Truck back on my sights. This time, I noticed debris of what looked like parts of a bridge. Its steel support was broken and bent out of shape, with its core structure blasted right clean off. I even failed to recognize it was a bridge before I got closer.
Just ahead the 'bridge' was a capsized aircraft carrier. Almost three-quarters of it was already underwater, leaving only the wide airstrip part popping above the surface. It was directly blocking our way however, so I made a left turn.
Suddenly, water pelted our boat.
Wave breaking off on our boat?
Nope, I felt something else with it.
An impact. Made by a hard object. Strong enough to send our boat sliding across the water.
I looked to my left.
One of those goddamned small boats with jackasses shooting at us on board.
I counted three. However, the boat would still be a nuisance. Taking out the guys on it won't stop it from being a speed bump.
Then, I noticed a load of orange objects at the rear. Buoys?
"Shoot the mines!" barked Sandman.
You idiots.
Tick-tick.
BLAM! went the boat in flames, ripping it apart and sending its occupants to the sea.
So long, suckers.
Who told them to put highly-explosive mines on deck, anyways?
Due to this minor setback, I had almost lost Truck's boat. Almost would be the correct word, as I caught a glimpse of a speck speeding across the sea, disappearing between, guess what, yet another two destroyers. It had to be two destroyers, huh?
As I went to that direction, a light from the sky landed on the destroyer on the left, blasting it to hell. The light in question wasn't an angel falling literally from heaven, nor it was an asteroid plunging from space. It was just another missile, courtesy of the submarine we just took over. Again.
Truck was back in my sights again.
A destroyer to his left. Surprisingly enough, nothing on his right.
Of course, another missile exploded on its bridge. Right when I saw it. Not before Truck even got to it, not long after we got past it, but just when it went into my sights. What a coincidence.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't getting bored by ships exploding literally left and right of me, but I can only take so much gigantic explosions for a day before giving in to PTSD.
A slab of debris barely missed my boat.
What I told you?
With that being said, a bi-rotor helicopter flew just ahead of us. Its size was so big, I thought it can literally hoist up a shipping container.
"There's our bird!" Sandman notified.
We're getting out in THAT?
Good, I was starting to feel like I'm overstaying my welcome here.
But first, a set of boardwalk right in front of us. The supporting beams were so close to one another, it can barely fit one boat of our size. Meaning, one small flinch from the boat and it would have definitely crashed on the beams. Straight line is the key.
We went in.
Straight line. Come on.
As we shot under the boardwalk, I noticed that parts of the boardwalk was missing. Either blasted off or snapped apart. What, the missiles missed and somehow hit this boardwalk instead?
I mean, like--oh shit, there's our ride!
The chopper came down quite gently on the sea, making a ripple to the water surrounding it.
"There she is! Go, go!"
I heard some voices from my earpiece.
"Metal 0-1, we are feet wet!"
Nah bro, WE, as in me and Sandman, were the true feet-wet guys here. Hell, your feet were not even wet when you said that.
I thought about saying that to the guys on board the chopper, but then I realized the back door of the chopper was open wide, revealing a space inside enough for a Zodiac. If only I could get the boat straight into the chopper.
Not a problem. At least not this time.
The boat slid right in, with Sandman getting off first, helping the chopper crew with dragging the boat further in.
As I stepped off the Zodiac, I gazed at the back of the chopper.
I saw what I've been through mere seconds before. The hell on earth. In the U.S.A., at least. Both on land, underwater, and above water. The fact that I walked out of it all almost unscathed was somewhat unbelievable. Even me myself still found it hard to believe. Brush with death? I counted four times. For this day alone. Damn.
"Overlord, mission complete. All Eagles accounted for." Sandman reported through his earpiece.
"Roger Metal 0-1, missile strikes confirmed on multiple Russian hard targets on your AO. All primary threats neutralized. Good work, team, that's one for the books."
"Easy day, Overlord. Sandman out."
With the last words coming out of Sandman's mouth, jets flew across the torn apart New York City.
I let out a deep breath.
Ah, shit.
If I was to get another high-risk, death-defying, and outright suicidal mission again,
it'll be too soon.
"...stay tight, easy to get separated down here." Sandman warned, as he finished cutting the grating blocking our way.
No wonder.
Of course it was easy to get separated in a tunnel completely submerged underwater. Not to mention the nonsensical amount of debris present in it. Top that with the fact that the tunnel is dark as night and murky as the waters on New York sewers, I'd say we got ourselves quite an unpleasant place to dive in.
Not that we were diving all by ourselves down here; we got the Navy SEALs with us.
Which is where, I presume, we got these neat underwater vehicles from.
By shape, I'd say it looked like an oversized torpedo. Propeller at one end, real round and blunt edge on the other end. Minus the warhead packed with explosives, of course. It also has a handle to help assist with the steering and a sonar radar display.
They call it SDV. SEAL Delivery Vehicle.
Well, I had to admit that the more field work you got, the more you know.
I didn't get much time to get used to the SDV however, as just after we got past the grating, we were greeted with a multitude of debris littering the tunnel. Cars, concrete, God-knows-what-else, and unfortunately, people.
"Damn. Think anyone got out?" asked Grinch.
"Nothing we can do for them now," Sandman answered.
I didn't even pay attention to what Sandman said next, probably something about degrees and distances. I was too busy trying to navigate a tunnel full of wreckage using a vehicle I didn't even know existed before. That, and silently thinking about what Grinch had said.
Did anyone actually got out?
People were probably trying to get as far away from the war as possible. Planes weren't an option, boats were not very safe, and cars wouldn't get you far away in time.
But to get stuck here when the tunnel got blown to hell?
When you were so close and yet so far?
Sandman was right. Nothing we can do for them right there and then.
"Metal 0-1, got you on the tracker."
Must be the SEAL guys.
"Roger, approaching rendezvous." replied Sandman as we approached the end of the tunnel.
I didn't pay attention to the sonar display my SDV had, but I did see some figures hovering just ahead of us by then. How many of them? Five? Six? I didn't really notice back then. All I know is that they were not there to shoot us.
Like I said before, the SEAL guys.
"I see them," Grinch remarked.
As we waded in closer to them, I was about to instigate small talk, something like "How's it going boys?" or "Nice weather today, huh?" but apparently one of the SEALs fired first.
"Sub's on the move. Intercept window is closing fast."
No time for chit-chat, I suppose.
"Roger that, lead the way." Sandman affirmed.
The rest of the team cranked their SDV's gear up a notch. I followed suit. Not so hard finding the gear-up button in this thing.
That being said, so far this one mission is nowhere near complicated. Meet the SEAL guys, get to big-ass submarine, hijack the thing, pull the missile trigger at the Russians. No big deal underwater, right?
"Watch your sonar. Russians are laying mines."
Oh, come on.
Ah well, at least I get to vanquish my curiosity on how this sonar display works.
Apparently, the big red blinking dots on the screen were the mines. Simple.
That, or I can simply look up and spot the mines myself. The mines themselves weren't exactly small, mind you. In fact, they looked like oversized sea urchins. With equally oversized chains sticking from their bottom side.
Still, staying well away from them would be nice.
"Mine!" Grinch called out.
What's yours, Grinch?
Oh, right. The mines.
"Keep it steady," Sandman instructed.
Steering the SDVs might not be easy, but compared to fighting your way through a leveled up avenue packed to the brim with Russian army dudes more than happy to kill you, this was a walk in the park.
"Clear," Sandman finally announced.
About time.
"Power down, here we go."
Like the crank-up-the-gear button, the power-down button was not really hard to find as well.
But why we were powering down, you might ask?
BEEP.
I checked my sonar. No mines.
BEEP.
Come to think about it, the beep was too loud to have come from my sonar.
BEEP.
It sounded deeper as well. Louder too, like it was boosted with a megaphone.
BEEP.
I checked my sonar again.
I saw the color red.
Only it wasn't a dot this time.
A gigantic oval so long the sonar screen had a difficult time containing it.
What else could it have been?
The sub itself.
Seconds after popping up on my sonar, the sub made an appearance right above me.
Menacing. Somewhat unnerving. Those would be the words I'd use.
I've seen the sub somewhere else before. On TV, on those military magazine articles, on the internet, you name it. The shape, the color, the size was already in my head, but to see it on your own is a whole other story.
It glided just above us smoothly as if we were not even there.
"Wait 'till she passes." Sandman remarked.
One.
Two.
Three.
By then, the submarine is almost directly to our front, with us positioned near its tail. Not so far from the gigantic propellers.
"Okay, go!" Sandman ordered.
Obviously we were not going to ask for the sub to stop politely, so we brought some mines of our own. Should everything go according to plan, the mines will detonate, the propeller will be disabled, and the sub will be forced to surface. That's where we would have gone in.
"Mine's armed. Clear out." Sandman confirmed as he swerved further from the sub.
"Good job. We'll prep the exfil." remarked one of the SEALs.
Right. So they won't even be with us when we kick down the sub's doors. They were just here for escort service, to put it bluntly. Not that it was a big deal, this got nothing with what we've done four hours earlier.
Then again, who was going to be on getaway if it wasn't for them?
"Going explosive. Hit it." Sandman dictated.
The mines went boom.
Of course, it wasn't as coarse and as loud as how it would've sounded above water, but the impact, the shockwave, and the loud thud was still prominently felt down here. Funnily enough, with all the water around, I still saw some fire from the explosion.
With that being said, the plan worked!
Sub's going on a sharp ascend, apparently surfacing with all those fireworks on its tail.
The rest of the Metal team followed suit.
"Overlord, this is Metal 0-1. Sub is surfacing. Commencing assault." Sandman reported.
"Roger, 0-1. Continue to primary objective. We need control of the sub's missiles." replied the man on the other side.
Loud and clear, general.
My head bobbed up from the water.
From there, I got an excellent view of a torn-apart New York.
High-rises getting parts of their structure chipped off, fire bouncing off from the skyline as like a basketball, choppers and fighter jets scrambling like flies to crap, and the best part of it is that I can proudly announce that I've been there. In the thick of it all. Running and gunning. Trying not to die. You know how it is.
Not five seconds I've been pondering the scene of New York, the sub abruptly emerged, effectively blocking my vision.
Enough of the sightseeing for today, Frost. Back to work.
I climbed on the sub, taking off my diving mask. I saw the rest of the team doing the same.
"Contact coming out of the hatch!" Sandman barked.
Nice. We got ourselves our own boarding party.
Good thing I brought something for the occasion.
A suppressed MP5 with a red dot sight.
The aforementioned boarding party got guns of their own, but we were faster than them.
Then I noticed two figures on the far side of the deck.
They seem to be proceeding on our position in haste, quite aggressively I might add. I looked thoroughly, they seem to be carrying guns. Guns that were trained on us.
Even the boarding party's got a little bit of reinforcement.
The sub machine gun I was carrying might not be the best when it comes to ranged battles, I noticed.
With that in mind, I fired only one-two rounds at a time.
Tick goes the bullet, its sound suppressed.
I saw blood flew from the faraway crewman.
Hit.
I fired again.
Tick.
Down he went.
I turned around to see Sandman wielding a grenade, staring down at the hatch.
"Frag out!" he yelled.
I heard the explosion from the outside. That, and sounds of people screaming.
"Deck secured. We'll hold topside." Truck declared.
I heard Grinch saying something similar, but I failed to notice over Sandman talking to me.
"Frost, head down the stairs."
An upgrade. I liked it. It was just me storming a roof full of enemies before, now it's just me AND SANDMAN storming a submarine full of enemies. I just somehow knew that Grinch would be holding the deck alongside Truck, otherwise it would be all four of us assaulting the submarine.
I inserted a new magazine into my gun.
Let's get down to business.
Seconds after I touched down the stairs, I spotted Sandman leaning next to a door, readying his gun, clicking it into action.
,
"Alright Frost, sweep and clear. All unknowns are hostile. Rendezvous downstairs."
Sandman turned the wheel on the door and pushed it open.
Both of us were immediately greeted by not-so-friendly-faces.
They were probably expecting us. Shouting stuff in Russian, probably saying something like "Get ready!" or "Incoming!" or "Enemy spotted!" in a language I knew nothing about.
Place beyond the door looked like a barracks of some sort, with the bunk beds populating the place.
I spotted two individuals by the door at the opposite end of the door we entered.
All unknowns are hostile, Sandman said.
I shot more rounds from my gun this time around, since I was fully aware that we were conducting some close quarters battle in the sub. Range wouldn't be an issue here. Also useful for making sure that the enemy stayed down for good.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick my sub machine gun went, spraying more bullets.
Both enemies went down.
One flinched, sitting up slowly, reaching into his pocket. I was sure as hell he wasn't going to reach for a portable white flag. No. He's reaching for a concealed pistol.
'Till your last breath. Go out with some honor. No problem for me.
Popped three more into his chest.
I walked to the door, checking on the bodies.
The crewmen didn't move again.
I made a silent tribute.
Pro patria mori, comrades.
Just ahead of the door to the left is yet another door, connected to a set of stairs leading down.
Shouting. As if someone's fighting. With fists.
Gun up, I put my finger on the trigger.
Almost like a streak of light, two figures appeared right in front of the doorway at the end of the stairwell, wrestling. One appeared to be tackling the other, throwing his opponent to the doorway. I had almost squeezed the trigger when I saw who's who.
The one tackling and throwing the other was Sandman. It seemed that Sandman had gotten into hand-to-hand combat with one of the crewmen of the sub.
Sandman's opponent was about to retaliate, attempting to regain footing.
The master sergeant launched his boot to the crewman's face.
He went still.
"Stairs clear." Sandman announced.
Damn, sarge. You're cold.
"Take left," Sandman instructed.
I noticed that the floors were literally flooded by then. It looked like the mines were a little bit too effective.
As I turned left, I noticed some crewmen at the end of the hallway trying to plug the leaks, repair the broken pipes, screw some screws, attempting to prevent the sub from completely sinking, by the looks of it. Apparently I didn't have to shoot them, since Sandman already did that for me. Not that I would've shot them anyways, since they were not even trying to hurt me at that time.
At the right side of the corridor are rows of windows to what looked like an engine room. The windows were not so big themselves, more like the width of a commercial airplane's side windows and twice the height. Upon closer inspection, the supposed 'engine' took up most of the room's space, with little space for actually walking within.
By then, bullets started whizzing through the windows.
They got good cover, the shooters. Windows are not big enough to enable return firing, and yet they need only to shoot at the windows to hit us, since our bodies easily cover the windows should we stand beside it.
Unfortunately, I didn't think of that after the bullets started flying, and instead wasted a good amount of bullets before relocating to the end of the hallway. I literally ran and gunned throughout that hallway before reaching the right turn at the end of the hallway, hoping to hit one guy on the other side.
What I found were two more guys crouching at the end of the corridor, waiting to get their trigger fingers some exercise.
I didn't think about how many bullets I got left; I just sprayed and prayed.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-ti--
One guy flew backwards. He was out.
--ti-ti-ti--
The other guy was hit on the shoulder. Impact got him good, although he was still standing.
Click.
Wait, what?
Click.
Out.
I saw the guy at the other side regaining balance.
No time to reload.
What did they teach you in training?
"Switching to your sidearm's much faster than reloading," Truck once said.
I flung my gun away and pulled out my pistol.
Don't let that guy go bang first.
Blinding spark came out from his gun.
He fired.
I sidestepped, unloading my silenced pistol at his direction, throwing myself to the wall beside me.
Did I get hit?
Sure as hell didn't feel anything. Apart from the sudden chilly sensation from the bullets nearly grazing my hip.
Did he get hit?
I saw him there, lying face up.
Yes, he did.
I took out my sub machine gun and ejected the now empty magazine, inserting in a new one.
At the end of the corridor was an intersection: just straight ahead leads to a doorway which leads to a stairwell going up, and to the right leads to, well, another corridor. The corridor that had the entrance to the engine room.
The path straight ahead was completely clear of enemies, so I turned right. Clear too.
Then I heard screams coming from the stairwell.
Sounded like two people.
I quickly spun to my left, to the stairwell I thought was empty.
Two figures were already descending down the stairwell.
I squeezed.
Too late.
I heard it first.
BANG.
Sounded too singular and too bold to be a sub machine gun, the kind these crewmen had been carrying all along.
Shotgun.
I didn't even move. I just pulled the trigger. If I were to go down, I might as well take these bastards with me.
Nothing.
Eyes still wide.
Feet still sturdy.
Nose still inhaling.
The pellets went clean off my head.
Holy shit.
I was so astonished that I forgot the two contacts right in front of me were already lying on the stairwell, dead.
I didn't even realize that my feet were already taking me forward, up the stairs, moving further into the submarine. My mind was still there, at the bottom of the stairwell, contemplating how I have literally brushed off death.
All in a day's work, huh?
As I ascend the stairwell, the intercom spouted out an announcement in Russian. Probably something like "the security has been breached" or something like that I initially thought, until Sandman told me the truth.
"They're going to scuttle the sub. We gotta move, now!"
And I thought they were trying to repair the ship. Good thing Sandman put those 'hole-pluggers' down. Turns out they were going with the 'if I'm going down, you're going down with me' gig, huh?
Also, I noticed that the corridor that the stairwell leads to was darker. In fact, it had no lights on. What remained were the good old red emergency lights and an emergency horn blaring about.
"Frost, take point," ordered Sandman, as we turned to a mini set of staircase leading to a massive room.
Looked like an escape pod room of some sort, by the looks of it. What, with a set of railing separating the walkway from the 'pods' and an intersection of walkways between each pods. Pods, since they were detached entirely from the walkway and had a big window in the center. Looked like that, felt like a maze. Plenty of good cover, actually.
Just three steps in into the strange room, I saw blazes of red lines shooting past me.
Laser sights.
See, the thing with laser sights is that it makes you more accurate. Hell, it was its very purpose, to gave the shooter a better sense of aiming. Also, to help with the hip-firing of their guns, should they be a little too lazy to actually aim down the sights. Last but not least, if used properly and somewhat masterfully, it can temporarily blind the enemy, allowing for a clear--and easy--shot.
But, with those bright red thing shooting from your gun, it gives one disadvantage. A fatal disadvantage at that.
You're basically giving your position away.
The enemy will, at the least, know where you're standing at. At the most, they'll know where you're aiming at, which enables them to flank you from an uncovered angle.
With that being said on my own Laser Sights 101, I used the enemies' laser sights to my advantage.
I noticed two streams of laser to my front. Two tangos.
Stupidly enough, they weren't even aiming at me at my point. They were just scurrying for cover with the laser sights on their guns turned on.
Simply put, I just put that situation to good use.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Two down.
One still moved.
Tick.
Not moving anymore.
I turned right, seeing as the walkway to my front ended to a T-junction. No one.
Saw one jet stream of red though.
Apparently he was expecting me to pop up just beyond this corner, probably with a sub machine gun. Maybe he got a partner with him as well.
Of course, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
So I proceeded straight, to the T-junction.
Beyond the T-junction was a gaping hole surrounded by the railings of the walkway. Completely empty on the center. Nothing in between, which means no cover for any shooters around it. I would definitely get a shot on the guy waiting back there.
Took five steps forward.
There he was, crouching there with a shotgun in hand. Man, that could've gone a lot worse.
Tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Down.
Screams.
Strange, he was down for the count. Just lying there on the floor, no rolling around screaming in agony.
No.
This came from my right.
More like a battle charge.
I had no idea how, I had no idea why, I just ducked.
Felt something just on top of my head as I ducked. Something hard. Something swift. Something blunt.
Like a butt of a gun.
Someone had tried to bash my head in.
I stood up, knowing that this one basher guy probably had put all of his weight over my body by now. Should this work, he would've gone completely over my head, flipping over my body, landing to the floor back first. An overhead throw. More like a throw reversal, me reversing his attack into taking him down.
I pushed my body up.
Heavy.
Of course, this guy was literally on my shoulders now.
CLANG.
The sound of something heavy and big falling on the walkway. Like a slab of concrete.
Like a human body.
I turned, and there he was, writhing from immense sudden pain on his back.
Raising my gun, I simply returned the favor of trying to bash my head with a gun stock.
Lights out.
THWACK.
Probably broke his nose there.
Forward, Frost.
More shouts. They sounded somewhat faraway, like it was from a different room altogether. Yet it echoed very clearly throughout the massive room I was in. Sounds like they were fortifying their position, trying to hold out the two-man army tearing through the submarine.
Click.
I reloaded my gun.
Red beams were shot through the doorway to the next room. Another room of pods, walkways, railings, and a maze-feeling structure. The other guys were ready for us.
Let's earn their proper welcome.
Fired a burst of bullets at the foremost guy. Didn't really see whether it was a hit, though. All I knew was that the laser beams shot through the doorway were reduced by one. Probably shot his gun instead. Still, he wasn't going to fire anytime soon.
A storm of bullets ricocheted near my cover. Suppressing fire. No way I was going to stick my neck out there. Waiting for them to reload? Didn't have enough time--and bullets-- to put them all down at once.
Flashbang.
Pulled one out, yanked off the pin. Threw it at the wall opposite of me, knowing that it would bounce off the wall, directly to their position.
I was fully aware that the flashbang didn't give much time to take down all of the crewmen.
Just one milisecond before it exploded, I started to make a move.
BANG it went, with a blinding white light.
The crewmen were incapacitated.
Pacing straight forward, I shot anyone that looked like they were staggered after the sun was thrown at their faces.
One.
Two.
Three.
CLANG.
A bullet ricocheted off the wall to my left, barely missing me.
Shit.
More?
I turned right, firing blindly at the general direction of where the bullet came from.
A figure collapsed.
Laser beam shot beyond a corner where that one unlucky guy stood before.
Someone else, apparently.
Probably expecting me. Only this time, I couldn't really flank him, as judging by the erratic and uneven movement of the laser beam, he was moving fast. He was charging at my position.
Nah, I'm just going to wait here. No more intense close quarter combat for today.
And show up he did, only to be greeted by my own hail of bullets.
I turned right up the corner, only to see yet another shotgun-wielding crewman.
Oh, come on--
tri-ti-ti-ti-ti-tick.
Down he went, face first into the metal walkway.
Sandman was behind him, smoke coming out from the barrel of his gun.
Another stairwell leading up.
"Hold position at the door!" barked Sandman.
This can only mean one thing.
We're about to blow up the door and start raining fire on whoever's behind it.
Breach and clear, baby. '
"Okay, put a kicker charge on the door." instructed Sandman.
Oh, so that's what this square thing I've been carrying around was called? A kicker charge?
I thought it was a serving tray for C4s.
I put the serving tray of kaboom to the door. It stuck. As if it got a super glue on it.
Sandman proceeded to put two pipes on just below the kicker charge, each pipes on either side of the kicker charge. Probably detonating bars to make sure the explosion knocked the door clean off the hinges. To make the kaboom has more 'oomph', so to speak.
He leaned on the side again, this time taking out a detonator.
Looking away, he clicked.
KA-BLAM!
Door went down. Both of us went in.
All of a sudden, the world went slow. Couldn't really figure out if my reflexes are really kicking in, or if I had one too many adrenaline shots the night before. Either way, it was all in slow motion, at least from my perspective.
There was smoke from the explosion, but I spotted some figures right up my front.
One was eerily close, lunging at me, holding something in his hand.
A knife.
Oh no, you don't.
Tick-tick-tick.
He went limp, his previous movement springing his body forward towards me.
Just behind him were two more guys, guns in hand, ready to put me down.
There were no cover from where I was standing.
Guess I had to improvise.
I reached out one hand, catching the dead knife guy, yanking him to my front.
A human shield.
I can't really fire my sub machine gun both logically and practically at this point, so took out my pistol.
Tick-tick.
Down.
A little to the right, and--
tick-tick-click.
My mind screamed "RELOAD!" but I saw what was supposed to be my target.
Dead.
Ah, what a coincidence.
I tossed the body away, getting a clearer look at the scene.
It was a control room, obviously, with a lot of screens displaying radar feed and consoles with a lot of adjusting needles and buttons. Looked like the most normal control room I had ever seen, complete with a ladder in the middle of the room leading to the deck topside.
Also, six dead sailors. I got three, so you can easily figure out how many Sandman got.
"Area secure." Sandman declared.
Sandman went over to one of the dead crewmen, the one I took out with a pistol. I thought he was about to poke it with his gun, trying to confirm his death. That, or attempting to ask him what's the launch code to the submarine's missile system. He might not be dead; my gun ran out of bullets when I was firing at him. He probably didn't even got the killshot.
Turned out, I was wrong on both accounts.
With his boot, Sandman flicked the crewmen to the side and rummaged through his pocket. He pulled out something the size of his finger pinch.
"Alright, I got the launch keys."
He did not even need to ask at all.
"Overlord, this is Metal 0-1. I send checkpoint Neptune, over."
I was so infested in storming the hell out of this submarine that I forgot that Overlord was waiting for our success at the other end of Sandman's line. Probably sweating with anticipation. Or with anxiety. Or both.
"Roger, 0-1. Copy, Neptune." replied Overlord from the other side.
"I have the missile key and I'm accessing the launch codes now."
"Grid coordinates follow," Overlord instructed.
" Tango Whiskey zero five six six two eight."
You got that, Sandman? I can repeat it for you if you didn't.
"Coordinates confirmed. Firing on Russian fleet in thirty seconds." Sandman affirmed.
He got it alright.
"Frost, get on the console!" he said to me. To who else, if not me?
Of course, there was a lot of consoles in the room, but I figured out that the one I needed to be one was the one with a key slot on it, similar to Sandman's. I was not supposed to actually USE this consoles now, wasn't I? Clue number two: it was not too far from Sandman's console.
I found just the one three steps away.
Putting my gun away, I turned to Sandman. He motioned, reaching out his hand, another key in his hand. Three steps away was a little too far to pass that thing, wasn't it?
Unless you were looking to TOSS the key.
And so he did.
I was afraid that he tossed wrong, or that I was a bad catcher. Come on. Not at this moment. Please.
The key was airborne.
Reaching out my palm, I felt it on my grasp.
Got it. Phew.
Inserting it into the one hole fit for it in my console, I turned to Sandman again.
"Three, two, one, turn!"
For a milisecond I was afraid the key jammed because it was, well, the wrong key, or it broke because I exerted too much force in turning it. Should that happen, I couldn't even begin to imagine what should Sandman explain to Overlord. The whole operation was blown, we lost New York and possibly the whole country because some incompetent jackass couldn't turn a fucking key. Man, what a horrible scenario.
Click.
Green light.
Phew. Again.
I caught a glimpse of Sandman pressing a small button on the console, not so far from the key slot. I tried the same.
Part of the console sprung open, revealing a big red button underneath.
This must've been one of those buttons, huh? The big red button that will definitely bring total annihilation to a country should it fall to the wrong hands. The big red button that will end everything. The big red button that launches nukes and fires cruise missiles.
And I get to press it.
PEEP.
I heard Sandman announcing the launch to Overlord. "Missiles armed and launching!"
Enjoy the taste of your own medicine.
I spun my head around. Sandman was gone. Not really, as I caught a glimpse of his feet climbing up the ladder in the middle of the room.
"Roger. SEAL team in position for exfil."
Ah, the getaway guys.
As I clamped my fingers on the first step, I noticed that Sandman was already on topside, completely off the ladder.
Just as I took my first step topside, my ear was bombarded with the sound of jet engine. I didn't have to look; two jet fighters flew just over my head. That couldn't have been my exfil, could it?
Again, I caught glimpse of Sandman running to the left side of the deck.
When I got there, I spotted Sandman boarding a small dinghy-shaped motorboat. Zodiacs, they have taken to call it. As I jumped on board, I saw another zodiac far ahead of our own. I started to wonder who was on it until Sandman called out.
"Grinch, Truck, let's roll!"
You can't have one without the other, huh?
"Amen to that!" Truck shouted back.
Amen to that indeed, Truck.
Sitting on the Zodiac's front, Sandman yelled just one command at me.
"Frost, punch it!"
Don't need to tell me twice, sarge. Hell, you don't even need to tell me at all, I would've punched it anyway.
As I cranked the boat speed to its highest gear, I noticed the side of the submarine opening up like a car trunk, revealing missile silos. The missiles within were shot up to the sky mere seconds after the side opened up. It was almost as if we got our own fireworks display on our way out.
"Missiles launching!" Sandman shouted.
Jet engines blared through the horizon. Missiles and warheads shot up from nearby battleships like a champagne cork, leaving a trail of thick smoke behind. Explosions decorate the sky like baubles on a Christmas tree. Smaller ships, including ours and Truck's, run amok like a headless chicken. What a mess, I gotta say. Not as much of a mess as downtown New York, but still.
"Keep up with that Zodiac!" reminded Sandman, referring to Truck's Zodiac, darting ahead of us.
Two smaller ships approached our left side. Far as I was concerned, we didn't get 'escort from the Navy in form of smaller battleships' in our deal today, so I'd say they were not on our side. And right I was about them, since they started spitting out bullets on us the second I got them on my sights.
Unless I got a better plan on evading them, I'd say following Truck and Grinch is essential to my survival.
Truck's Zodiac veered right, conveniently towards the space between two destroyer ships. Bullets barely missed us, either whizzing past my ear or hitting the ocean beneath us.
Not a very evasive maneuver I gotta say, since there were plenty of space between both ships, and none of their occupants are shooting at us. Plus the fact that the destroyers certainly gave us excellent cover against those pesky small ships, we got ourselves a short break.
Then the ship on our left tilted.
Shit.
Is it capsizing? Coming down on our heads?
Come on, not now. Not when we've come this far.
A gush of wave shot out from beneath it, jouncing our boat.
I didn't really care about the possibility of a big-ass battleship dropping on our heads, I just went forward.
Not today.
The boat landed, still going full throttle.
We've reached the destroyer's rear.
It had stopped moving.
Not today.
Truck's Zodiac veered right again, this time with the enemy boats following. Not so different than before, still shooting at us.
I noticed we were approaching towards the space between another two destroyers.
The only difference being both of them definitely capsizing.
Missiles from the submarine hit both the destroyers simultaneously with a BOOM as we jetted past, sending them up in flames and shooting debris from the deck. Black smoke and shrapnel went off wildly from them, I wondered if anyone on board survived.
"Keep on going, Frost!"
As much as I was astonished by the view, there was no way in hell I'll slow down.
As the smoke cleared, I spotted the Zodiac in front of us veering to the right again, avoiding a destroyer sitting right to our front. Or what used to be a destroyer, since another missile came straight out of heaven and blew it to pieces.
Steering the boat right, I got Truck back on my sights. This time, I noticed debris of what looked like parts of a bridge. Its steel support was broken and bent out of shape, with its core structure blasted right clean off. I even failed to recognize it was a bridge before I got closer.
Just ahead the 'bridge' was a capsized aircraft carrier. Almost three-quarters of it was already underwater, leaving only the wide airstrip part popping above the surface. It was directly blocking our way however, so I made a left turn.
Suddenly, water pelted our boat.
Wave breaking off on our boat?
Nope, I felt something else with it.
An impact. Made by a hard object. Strong enough to send our boat sliding across the water.
I looked to my left.
One of those goddamned small boats with jackasses shooting at us on board.
I counted three. However, the boat would still be a nuisance. Taking out the guys on it won't stop it from being a speed bump.
Then, I noticed a load of orange objects at the rear. Buoys?
"Shoot the mines!" barked Sandman.
You idiots.
Tick-tick.
BLAM! went the boat in flames, ripping it apart and sending its occupants to the sea.
So long, suckers.
Who told them to put highly-explosive mines on deck, anyways?
Due to this minor setback, I had almost lost Truck's boat. Almost would be the correct word, as I caught a glimpse of a speck speeding across the sea, disappearing between, guess what, yet another two destroyers. It had to be two destroyers, huh?
As I went to that direction, a light from the sky landed on the destroyer on the left, blasting it to hell. The light in question wasn't an angel falling literally from heaven, nor it was an asteroid plunging from space. It was just another missile, courtesy of the submarine we just took over. Again.
Truck was back in my sights again.
A destroyer to his left. Surprisingly enough, nothing on his right.
Of course, another missile exploded on its bridge. Right when I saw it. Not before Truck even got to it, not long after we got past it, but just when it went into my sights. What a coincidence.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't getting bored by ships exploding literally left and right of me, but I can only take so much gigantic explosions for a day before giving in to PTSD.
A slab of debris barely missed my boat.
What I told you?
With that being said, a bi-rotor helicopter flew just ahead of us. Its size was so big, I thought it can literally hoist up a shipping container.
"There's our bird!" Sandman notified.
We're getting out in THAT?
Good, I was starting to feel like I'm overstaying my welcome here.
But first, a set of boardwalk right in front of us. The supporting beams were so close to one another, it can barely fit one boat of our size. Meaning, one small flinch from the boat and it would have definitely crashed on the beams. Straight line is the key.
We went in.
Straight line. Come on.
As we shot under the boardwalk, I noticed that parts of the boardwalk was missing. Either blasted off or snapped apart. What, the missiles missed and somehow hit this boardwalk instead?
I mean, like--oh shit, there's our ride!
The chopper came down quite gently on the sea, making a ripple to the water surrounding it.
"There she is! Go, go!"
I heard some voices from my earpiece.
"Metal 0-1, we are feet wet!"
Nah bro, WE, as in me and Sandman, were the true feet-wet guys here. Hell, your feet were not even wet when you said that.
I thought about saying that to the guys on board the chopper, but then I realized the back door of the chopper was open wide, revealing a space inside enough for a Zodiac. If only I could get the boat straight into the chopper.
Not a problem. At least not this time.
The boat slid right in, with Sandman getting off first, helping the chopper crew with dragging the boat further in.
As I stepped off the Zodiac, I gazed at the back of the chopper.
I saw what I've been through mere seconds before. The hell on earth. In the U.S.A., at least. Both on land, underwater, and above water. The fact that I walked out of it all almost unscathed was somewhat unbelievable. Even me myself still found it hard to believe. Brush with death? I counted four times. For this day alone. Damn.
"Overlord, mission complete. All Eagles accounted for." Sandman reported through his earpiece.
"Roger Metal 0-1, missile strikes confirmed on multiple Russian hard targets on your AO. All primary threats neutralized. Good work, team, that's one for the books."
"Easy day, Overlord. Sandman out."
With the last words coming out of Sandman's mouth, jets flew across the torn apart New York City.
I let out a deep breath.
Ah, shit.
If I was to get another high-risk, death-defying, and outright suicidal mission again,
it'll be too soon.
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