Brothers in Arms: Let's Get This Party Started
#3 of Brothers In Arms
Lewis and Tank jumped out of the Humvee, hitting the gound running for the closest shack. Letting Basic Training take control, they took positions on either side of a small unassuming reddish door. Wiping some grime and dust off of his goggles, Tank nodded. Moving in front of the door, Lewis pumped the slide on his remington. Firing a round into both of the hinges, then kicking down the door. There was a cloud of dust as the splotch of red hit the carpeted floor of the shack.
The first thing to hit Lewis's mind as he took his position covering the left side of the room was that he would have hired a different interior decorator. Tank yelled out the all clear, jarring Lewis back into reality. Responding in kind, he decided that his decorative know how was a conversation for another day, and that Tank would be more use to him not on the floor laughing hard enough to burst his small intestines, he flicked his fingers over his shoulder and quickly balled them into a fist. The sign to follow and to keep an eye out.
Completely ignorant to the misgivings of a certain cat, Tank chirped up. "Lowdy Lowdy, I 'aint ne'er seen a wreck quite like 'dis" He whistled, "I mean jus' look at the rug, is 'dat 'apposed to be yeller, or did summin piss all o'er it?"
Giving into his temptations he pointed at the ceiling, "Not just that, look at that roof!" He exclaimed, "I mean REALLY, who in their right mind uses acoustic tiling anymore? And are those Dandelions or Sunflowers? Someone seriously needs some help, either mentally, or decoratively." Throwing up his hands Lewis shook his head, "And don't even get me started on the furniture..."
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Stomping on the accelerator, Tim swerved hard left to avoid the well that was sitting in the middle of the town square. Across the expanse, about 50 metres away was the last known position of Bravo squad, not to mention their smoking wreck of a Humvee. Hot brass rained down form the gunners seat as Bomber opened up on some entrenched insurgents that were taking potshots at them.
"WATCH FOR FRIENDLIES" Tim shouted, straining to be heard of the cacophony of the .50 cal. Rolling his eyes as he realized it was useless, he gave up and fishwheeled right beside the wrecked Humvee.
Keying up his Tac-Com, intending to find out what Lewis and Tank were getting themselves into, his jaw dropped.
"I mean seriously, that colour completely clashes with not only the carpet and the walls, but the entire feeling of the room, the Ambience, if you will." the voice, although staticy, definitely belonged to Lewis.
Shaking his head Tim sighed, "Save the decorating expertise for a later date Spall, keep your head in the game."
An embarrassed Spall gave the affirmitive, while a guffawing in the backround showed how much situational awareness Tank had.
While all of this was going on, Shroud was still hammering away with the .50, and spent brass was piling up between the drivers seat and the passengers (which was usually empty anways). Sweeping some of it off his lap, Tim grabbed his C-7, which was buried beneath the shells, and kicked open the door. Automatically crouching and scanning his immediate area, he gave himself a mental pat on the back for parking the Humvee with the drivers side away from the gun fire.
Sprinting to the edge of the closest building to the wreck, he switched to the company frequency on his radio, and then tried to raise Bravo squad. "Bravo, this is Sgt. Moreau with Charlie, please respond! I repeat, Bravo, Please respond!"
"We hear you Charlie, this is Lt. Carstez, I never thought I would be happier to hear your voice Napolean." The response was sketchy at best, but Tim was able to understand it perfectly, after having to work with sub grade tech for his entire career, you learned to make do or die. "We're holed up in the brown building at the south side of the square"
Tim looked up at the building he was leaning against, which was brown, and also south. "Roger, freindlies coming in. Hold your fire."
"Affirmitive Charlie, holding fire." The response came over the low band.
Opening the door, Tim switched over to the squads frequency, "Get your fuzzy ass over here Spall, and you can bring Faraday if he promises to play nice with the Lt. You to Shroud, make sure they know to keep their head down and use Spall as a mobile firebase, then retreat in tandem with them. Lets hear the all good."
"Roger" From Spall.
"Whatever you say boss," came the response from Shroud along with the unmistakable sound of the pin being pulled on a smoke grenade (which gives off a more metallic click than their fragmentation counterparts).
As Tim stepped into the door, he was facing down the barrels of four assault rifles. "Ha ha guys, you can let 'em down." He motioned to the ground and smashed out a window with the butt of his rifle in order to get a better place to provide covering fire from.
He looked up as Carstez put his paw on his shoulder, "Let the party begin." he lifted his fist towards Tim.
"Let's make sure they won't forget it." Tim tapped the Lt.'s fist with his own.