"Well in any case..." Zoya murmured softly as she hopped down fro mthe top bunk, landing with silence in a crouched position. "We have to wake early in the morning. So let us get some sleep while we can..it's going to be a complex day." Zoya stated softly then she looked at her wingmates who hopped down at well. then they all slid to the ground on the makeshift bed they had made. Then they laid down in order from left to right it would be. Zoya, Zasz, Sasha then Hydra. Then Zoya perked her pearly white ears and looked at James. "Come, under the covers, we all sleep together."
Jamie thought for a moment, then crawled to the bed and slid next to Zoya. From the small of his back, he produced his service pistol and slid it underneath the bed he was lying next to, within easy reach. Next to it he placed the spare magazines next to it, along with a spring-assisted knife. "I'll probably be gone when you wake in the morning, so if anyone asks I can plausibly say I was in my room all night."
"Whatever floats your boat." Zoya murmured as she turned over and pressed her stomached to her sisters back and slid her hand around Zasz' waist. While Zasz herself curled up a bit facing Sasha, Who in turn had been facing Zasz, also curled up while Hydra pressed against her as well. It was a strange way to sleep, but it was comfortable for them, and they always did it. Some found it to be oddly erotic, others found it to be cute, and then others found it to be recourse full. (what now? my brain hurts.)
Jamie had been about to fall asleep when a hammering on the door and voices brought him standing, with his pistol aimed at it. The hammering continued, and now the shouting was audible. To Jamie's hear, which could understand Gaelic, Russian, French, and German, it sounded like Chinese. That meant the Chinese had sneaked soldiers onto the Naval Base at Pearl Harbor. It also meant that he wasn't a fighter pilot anymore. Jamie was now infantry, and infantry's first duty was to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. In this case, the Russian women he was with right now. He slipped to the door and slid his shoes on, stabbing his knife into the wall beside him as an extra weapon if he needed it. Moving closer to the door, he motioned at the women to be silent, and opened it. Two Chinese soldiers, probably special ops, his brain noted, came through.
Jamie shot the first one in the side, then brought the pistol back down and hit him in the head, and then he was swinging to target the next one, who got the same treatment. Double tap, one in the chest, one in the head. Jamie put his pistol into the back of his belt, and grabbed the Chinese rifles. One was an AKM, or probably the Chinese copy, and the other was an AK-74u, again a Chinese copy. He slung the longer one on his back, picking up as many spare magazines as he could carry, and burst into the hall, checking for any more enemies. There were none, so he slipped back into the room. "Get dressed. I don't know how you're trained for ground combat, but probably not for anything like this. I haven't got an idea in Hell of what's going on, but I need information, and then if the officers have been taken out, which is all to likely, I'm going to need to being organizing a defense. Ah, shit. It's safer with cannons and missiles at twenty thousand feet." He shook his head and went back outside.
((When in doubt, have men with guns come through a door. It works every time, lol. http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ChandlersLaw ))
Jamie shot the first one in the side, then brought the pistol back down and hit him in the head, and then he was swinging to target the next one, who got the same treatment. Double tap, one in the chest, one in the head. Jamie put his pistol into the back of his belt, and grabbed the Chinese rifles. One was an AKM, or probably the Chinese copy, and the other was an AK-74u, again a Chinese copy. He slung the longer one on his back, picking up as many spare magazines as he could carry, and burst into the hall, checking for any more enemies. There were none, so he slipped back into the room. "Get dressed. I don't know how you're trained for ground combat, but probably not for anything like this. I haven't got an idea in Hell of what's going on, but I need information, and then if the officers have been taken out, which is all to likely, I'm going to need to being organizing a defense. Ah, shit. It's safer with cannons and missiles at twenty thousand feet." He shook his head and went back outside.
((When in doubt, have men with guns come through a door. It works every time, lol. http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ChandlersLaw ))
The night, thus far had passed rather peacefully, until that is the rude violent beating on the door had woken the group from their rest. The girls sat up quickly, and looked at the door as james had moved closer to it. For the most part they stayed dead silent, even as james had executed the enemy contacts quite easily. Zoya would nod and jump up, as would the rest of her squadron at the sound of james' voice telling them to get dressed. They all had clothed themselves in what they had before, and then waited for their next moves. In all truth Sasha was the only really dangerous one in their squadron on the ground, and that was because her needle like fangs possessed a toxin that would kill in about 18 seconds flat, and that was if the heart was beating slowly, if it was beating fast, as if someone were running, it would get a foe killed in mere seconds.
Zasz flicked er long tail and let out a soft sigh before she murmured softly to james. "We may not be grunts, but we can shoot..I mean when we were kids we used to shoot birds with BB guns. So, even if it is a sidearm, just provide us with anything you can."
Zasz flicked er long tail and let out a soft sigh before she murmured softly to james. "We may not be grunts, but we can shoot..I mean when we were kids we used to shoot birds with BB guns. So, even if it is a sidearm, just provide us with anything you can."
Jamie nodded, handing his pistol and the AK-74u back, and the ammmo for both, before slinging the AKM off his back and into the ready position in his arms. He went back out the door, leading the way, rifle ready. He didn't have enough time to worry about every single door, so he kicked one in and near the bed, with a knife, was a Chinese soldier.
Jamie dropped him and checked the bed. He was too late. Shaking his head, Jamie closed the man's eyes and retrieved the Chinese's weapon, another AK model. He took all the man's ammo and passed it and the weapon to one of the Russians, leading the way down the hall again. He shouldered another door open. This room was empty. He kept going, knocking doors down, checking for enemies, swearing and sweating every step of the way.
Jamie dropped him and checked the bed. He was too late. Shaking his head, Jamie closed the man's eyes and retrieved the Chinese's weapon, another AK model. He took all the man's ammo and passed it and the weapon to one of the Russians, leading the way down the hall again. He shouldered another door open. This room was empty. He kept going, knocking doors down, checking for enemies, swearing and sweating every step of the way.
As James passed the two weapons back Hydra would extend her arm and take them both. Keeping the pistol for herself, she passed the Ak back to Zasz who gripped the gun tightly, having actualy never fired an automatic weapon in her life. They they moved out behind james, keeping close, but not too close just in case. Again they watched in awe as he dropped two more Chinese spec-ops. Then Zoya stopped, beingg at the rear of the group she looked back around a corner, then she froze as she slipped back around thecorner, keeping silent. She extended her hand and tapped Sasha's shoulder then pointed over her own shoulder around the hallway, almost mentally telling her that there was one spec-op back there.
Sasha would nod then slide to the corner. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then she parted her lips and bares her fangs, waiting for what seemed the proper opportunity to come. A few seconds passed and she shot around the corner with blinding speed. There was a sharp hiss followed by the sound of aa muffled grunt of pain. Then silence. Sasha re-emerged around the corner, rubbing her arm as she nodded to zoya, having executed the assailant with her deadly venom. (Wow...i'm really out of the game here. i'm doing awful.)
Sasha would nod then slide to the corner. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then she parted her lips and bares her fangs, waiting for what seemed the proper opportunity to come. A few seconds passed and she shot around the corner with blinding speed. There was a sharp hiss followed by the sound of aa muffled grunt of pain. Then silence. Sasha re-emerged around the corner, rubbing her arm as she nodded to zoya, having executed the assailant with her deadly venom. (Wow...i'm really out of the game here. i'm doing awful.)
Jamie went around a corner distracted, and nearly ate four rounds of 7.62x39mm, fired at two thousand, four hundred eleven feet per second, as a result of his distraction. His reflexes saved his life as the rounds thudded into the wall near him, and the four Chinese in the hallway choke point kept up suppressive fire, not allowing Jamie time to come up with a plan. He had been trying to figure out where the sergeant commanding the defense was most likely to be, but the four Chinese quickly disabused him of that. He knew they would be advancing, two crawling forward and the other two providing the fire to keep Jamie and the Russians' heads down. From one of the enemies, he had retrieved a bayonet, which he affixed to his AKM. He inserted a new magazine, bringing his ammo count in the rifle to thirty-one rounds, one in the chamber, thirty in the clip. Glancing at the ceiling, he shot a prayer towards God. Turning back to the Russians, he smiled softly.
"Here's the deal. We can't go forward, because they've got us pinned down. We can't go back, because all those shots will bring more of 'em. I've got the only bayonet, and I'm bigger than any one of you, height and thickness wise. So, I'm going to turn the corner yelling and firing. I'm going to try and take their shots, while whoever has a weapon goes after the one I'm not directly in front of. Rank and nationality doesn't matter here. This is the only solution I can think of, and it's the one that's got to work. So wish me luck, ladies. If I die, hoist a pint in my name, even if you don't drink it." Jamie checked the bayonet, kissed the rifle, and turned the corner, exactly as promised, screaming and firing. Time seemed to slow, allowing him time to think, Well, shit. I'm fixing to die. On autopilot now, some part of his brain seemed to step back and go, Alright asshole, we're here now, and now how the Hell are we going to get these cocksuckers out of this hallway? Jamie let the rifle and his hands do the talking. He hit the first one in the chest, the recoil of the rifle sending it up and to the right, causing his next shot to hit the shoulder, then wall.
He swung the rifle from the collapsing man, now three feet from him, and pushed forward, face blank but eyes telling a story all their own, as the bayonet struck home. Jamie's charge had been completely unexpected and suicidal; that one or two seconds that had thrown the enemy off guard had bought him his life as he went the six or so feet from the corner to the two standing. He twisted the bayonet, ignoring the look on the man's face, then jerked it out.
((Ground combat is difficult to write, a lot of the time. I know I struggle to find a balance between making sure it's good, accurate, and practical, and allowing the other person to be able to reply. If you want me to change anything, just shoot me a PM or something.))
"Here's the deal. We can't go forward, because they've got us pinned down. We can't go back, because all those shots will bring more of 'em. I've got the only bayonet, and I'm bigger than any one of you, height and thickness wise. So, I'm going to turn the corner yelling and firing. I'm going to try and take their shots, while whoever has a weapon goes after the one I'm not directly in front of. Rank and nationality doesn't matter here. This is the only solution I can think of, and it's the one that's got to work. So wish me luck, ladies. If I die, hoist a pint in my name, even if you don't drink it." Jamie checked the bayonet, kissed the rifle, and turned the corner, exactly as promised, screaming and firing. Time seemed to slow, allowing him time to think, Well, shit. I'm fixing to die. On autopilot now, some part of his brain seemed to step back and go, Alright asshole, we're here now, and now how the Hell are we going to get these cocksuckers out of this hallway? Jamie let the rifle and his hands do the talking. He hit the first one in the chest, the recoil of the rifle sending it up and to the right, causing his next shot to hit the shoulder, then wall.
He swung the rifle from the collapsing man, now three feet from him, and pushed forward, face blank but eyes telling a story all their own, as the bayonet struck home. Jamie's charge had been completely unexpected and suicidal; that one or two seconds that had thrown the enemy off guard had bought him his life as he went the six or so feet from the corner to the two standing. He twisted the bayonet, ignoring the look on the man's face, then jerked it out.
((Ground combat is difficult to write, a lot of the time. I know I struggle to find a balance between making sure it's good, accurate, and practical, and allowing the other person to be able to reply. If you want me to change anything, just shoot me a PM or something.))
The predicament was pretty much unwinnable without some crazed plan to escape. Which James had provided for them. Zoya listened intently on his instruction, but none of it actually stuck in her mind. All she heard out of it was 'Charge around the corner screaming.' She had looked back to her comrades and nodded slowly then she murmured softly. "It has been a honor to have lived my life with you ladies. But now is not the time for solemn vows and petty fears. no is the time to act!" As she spoke jami had just started to round the corner and she ended her little prep talk with something that always got her hopes up, and her friends hopes up. "Now let's show these Chinese bastards why they should fear the glorious motherland!" With that she darted out from around the corner, her comrades followed closely behind her, running crouched really low. Thanks to their light agile anatomy, and natural enhanced speed and agility they moved down the hall three times the speed Jamies had managed. By then James had stabbed the second of the four and left only two stunned spec-ops in the hallway.
The Spec-ops did not stay stunned for long, however the other four females charging them was sligtly confusing. Out of reflex on their part they fired again. Much like James, time seemed to slow in their minds. Zoya had led their charge, so she was the willing bullet sponge here. Amazingly enough, as they all approached most of the bullets miss, Howeverr upon getting within five feet of them three bullets strike Zoya. The 7.62 rounds tore though her right shoulder, then here left and one dead center in her gut. She felt the searing pain lance though her body and she fell forward, but she had done her job to her squadron mates. Who had launched themselves upon the two remaining soldiers. Sasha had taken the right, while Hydra and Zasz had taken the left. The sight that followed was almost inhumanly brutal. Hydra had slammed her fist down on the soldiers neck, however she had claws, and se used those to dig in and try to rip the mans carotid artery straight out of his neck, while Zasz held his arms down, making sure the bastard had no escape.
On Sasha's end it was clearly redundant to her fighting style. She had pounced the soldier, digging the talons in her toes into the soldiers legs, slicing though his flesh as she clamped down on his neck, sinking her fangs into his neck as she dumped her deadly toxins into the mans system. It took effect almost instantly and he froze up, his muscled locking then going limp. Sasha stood off the fallen soldier then slid to her wounded comrade, Zoya. She paced her hand on Zoya's and squeezed it lightly as she looked down at Zoya. Who had remained councious throughout the experience. Her breaths were short, but stable as one could get.
The Spec-ops did not stay stunned for long, however the other four females charging them was sligtly confusing. Out of reflex on their part they fired again. Much like James, time seemed to slow in their minds. Zoya had led their charge, so she was the willing bullet sponge here. Amazingly enough, as they all approached most of the bullets miss, Howeverr upon getting within five feet of them three bullets strike Zoya. The 7.62 rounds tore though her right shoulder, then here left and one dead center in her gut. She felt the searing pain lance though her body and she fell forward, but she had done her job to her squadron mates. Who had launched themselves upon the two remaining soldiers. Sasha had taken the right, while Hydra and Zasz had taken the left. The sight that followed was almost inhumanly brutal. Hydra had slammed her fist down on the soldiers neck, however she had claws, and se used those to dig in and try to rip the mans carotid artery straight out of his neck, while Zasz held his arms down, making sure the bastard had no escape.
On Sasha's end it was clearly redundant to her fighting style. She had pounced the soldier, digging the talons in her toes into the soldiers legs, slicing though his flesh as she clamped down on his neck, sinking her fangs into his neck as she dumped her deadly toxins into the mans system. It took effect almost instantly and he froze up, his muscled locking then going limp. Sasha stood off the fallen soldier then slid to her wounded comrade, Zoya. She paced her hand on Zoya's and squeezed it lightly as she looked down at Zoya. Who had remained councious throughout the experience. Her breaths were short, but stable as one could get.
Jamie turned and bayoneted the two he had gone past, making sure they were dead. He was a soldier, and soldiers didn't leave any enemies behind that might offer resistance, even if wounded. He knelt beside Zoya and placed his rifle on the ground, pulling the bayonet off of it as he did so. He took off his buttoned shirt and ripped both sleeves off, tying them together, to form a bandage. He ripped the rest of the shirt into strips.
"One of you, get down here and apply pressure to the wounds in her shoulders. She'll bleed out of the gut-shot if I don't take care of it. The other two, take the rifles and set up a chokepoint in each direction. If they speak Manadarin, shoot them. If they speak English, don't shoot. Goddamn your eyes, Zoya, you had to go and get shot in the gut. Do you know how hard these damned wounds are to treat?" Using the rifle's bayonet, Jamie cut her shirt off of her with swift, sure cuts. Red blood matted her white fur, and Jamie thanked her luck that the round had, at first glance, avoided any major organs. Lifting her slightly, he slid the bandage made out of his shirt sleeves under her, then set her back down gently.
"Ok, here's your options. I can try and perform surgery right here to get that bullet out of you, or I can bandage you up and carry you until we find an actual surgeon. Whichever one you choose, I'll do my best to save your life."
"One of you, get down here and apply pressure to the wounds in her shoulders. She'll bleed out of the gut-shot if I don't take care of it. The other two, take the rifles and set up a chokepoint in each direction. If they speak Manadarin, shoot them. If they speak English, don't shoot. Goddamn your eyes, Zoya, you had to go and get shot in the gut. Do you know how hard these damned wounds are to treat?" Using the rifle's bayonet, Jamie cut her shirt off of her with swift, sure cuts. Red blood matted her white fur, and Jamie thanked her luck that the round had, at first glance, avoided any major organs. Lifting her slightly, he slid the bandage made out of his shirt sleeves under her, then set her back down gently.
"Ok, here's your options. I can try and perform surgery right here to get that bullet out of you, or I can bandage you up and carry you until we find an actual surgeon. Whichever one you choose, I'll do my best to save your life."
Listening to James(or jamie) Hydra and Zasz took up arms and crouched near the walls, aiming in ether direction, getting ready to fire at anything. They both felt sick, this was why they stayed in the skies. Up there, Zoya and themselves seemed invincible, but down here....they were all mortal, just like everyone else. Sasha Applied pressure to one of the wounds, while Hydra used her free hand to apply pressure to the other shoulder wound.
The blood had begun to soak into her pearly white fur quite a bit now. Zoya started to fade in and out of consciousness. Her ears lise back as she listens to her options, both seemed like death to her. So she murmured softly, so softly one had to strain to hear her. "Take...me to a... surgeon." She had dto try her very best no to cough and aggravate her wounds even more.
The blood had begun to soak into her pearly white fur quite a bit now. Zoya started to fade in and out of consciousness. Her ears lise back as she listens to her options, both seemed like death to her. So she murmured softly, so softly one had to strain to hear her. "Take...me to a... surgeon." She had dto try her very best no to cough and aggravate her wounds even more.
"Alright doll, just stay with me. Damn your eyes, Zoya, damn them. Keep talking. Tell me what you love most about flying." Jamie went to work, placing the strips he had ripped his first shirt into in the wound, trying to absorb the blood. His initial assessment had been correct; no injured organs. This meant her only danger was going into shock, passing out from the pain, and blood loss. He could elevate her feet to try and take care of shock, keeping her talking took care of the fainting, and he was working on bandaging the wounds as fast as possible.
Shirt strips in the wound, he knotted the shirt sleeves over the wound, then again, creating an effective, if ugly bandage. Grimacing, he pulled his undershirt off and ripped it in two, wrapping one half around one of the shoulder wounds, then doing the same again. Rolling her over, he placed a knee between her legs, grabbed her beneath the armpits, and lifted her up to where they he was standing for the both of them. Turning her, he placed one arm over his shoulder, squatted, and placed it to where his shoulder was near her groin. He pushed her to where she was now slung across his shoulders, and Jamie stood.
"Alright. Who has my pistol? I need it. Take the rifle and all the extra ammo from the dead guys. It should all be 7.62x39mm."
Shirt strips in the wound, he knotted the shirt sleeves over the wound, then again, creating an effective, if ugly bandage. Grimacing, he pulled his undershirt off and ripped it in two, wrapping one half around one of the shoulder wounds, then doing the same again. Rolling her over, he placed a knee between her legs, grabbed her beneath the armpits, and lifted her up to where they he was standing for the both of them. Turning her, he placed one arm over his shoulder, squatted, and placed it to where his shoulder was near her groin. He pushed her to where she was now slung across his shoulders, and Jamie stood.
"Alright. Who has my pistol? I need it. Take the rifle and all the extra ammo from the dead guys. It should all be 7.62x39mm."
The pain was pulsing though Zoyas body, eash heartbeat was another thrashing pain. Her vision had gone from fading in and out, to darkening to a tick fuzzy state. She barely hears him instructing her to tell him about flying. She spoke softly, barely even understandable as her eyes slid further shut as she slipped into a darker state. "I...I love it, because....In the sky..It's almost peaceful, Even in a dogfight...its...to calm..." she couched softly and winced her self back into a slightly more awake state.
Sasha ad kept a careful eye on her comrade, also down the hallway as well. She had take his sidearm for her own purposes. As James had asked for his gun she held it out to him then swiped an AK from the floor. She was terrified for Zoya, her heart raced in her chest as she waited for James to tell them which way to go.
On Zasz' end, she had spotted not heard any movement down the hallways, She was furious. Her heart also had an elevated beat rate to it. She was worried about her sister greatly, but it was blood she craved, vengeance and justice. She also stood and turned to lok at James. Hydra was at her side, also waiting ground orders. In her hands she firmly clutched another AK. They were all ready to do what it would take to get out of here alive, or so they had though at least.
Sasha ad kept a careful eye on her comrade, also down the hallway as well. She had take his sidearm for her own purposes. As James had asked for his gun she held it out to him then swiped an AK from the floor. She was terrified for Zoya, her heart raced in her chest as she waited for James to tell them which way to go.
On Zasz' end, she had spotted not heard any movement down the hallways, She was furious. Her heart also had an elevated beat rate to it. She was worried about her sister greatly, but it was blood she craved, vengeance and justice. She also stood and turned to lok at James. Hydra was at her side, also waiting ground orders. In her hands she firmly clutched another AK. They were all ready to do what it would take to get out of here alive, or so they had though at least.
"That's it. Keep talking, doll, keep talking. Keep talking. Tell me what your boyfriend is like. Just keep talking, damn your eyes." Jamie took his pistol with his one free hand, the other keeping Zoya on his shoulders, and drew the hammer back. Two spare magazines, four rounds in the clip in the pistol, and a chambered round. In all, nineteen shots. Jamie's rule was, if you needed more than ten shots, you were a terrible shot. The extra was simply insurance.
Hoisting Zoya further on his shoulders, Jamie turned to the Russians. "We're going to try and get Zoya to a surgeon. If we don't find one in five minutes, I'm going to have to open her up wherever we are, to try and get the bullet out. Let's go." Jamie took off past the dead enemy, breathing slightly heavier than usual when running, as he wasn't used to carrying dead weight when he ran.
Hoisting Zoya further on his shoulders, Jamie turned to the Russians. "We're going to try and get Zoya to a surgeon. If we don't find one in five minutes, I'm going to have to open her up wherever we are, to try and get the bullet out. Let's go." Jamie took off past the dead enemy, breathing slightly heavier than usual when running, as he wasn't used to carrying dead weight when he ran.
Zoya flicked her ears weakly, then let a small gurgling laugh escape her mouth as she mumbled. "Boyfriend? None of us....none of us have boyfriends...we are picky...." She let her eyes close completely as darkness engulfed her mind. She was still awake, but just keeping her eyes closed. Her body went limp around his as she focused on contracting her blood vessels, trying to stow the bleeding a bit more.
The rest of the squadron had taken arms and made sure they had reloaded and had two extra clips to each and every one of them. Seeming to fall into a mental link they all sycronized and cocked the rifles and nodded to James as he had begun to move out.
The rest of the squadron had taken arms and made sure they had reloaded and had two extra clips to each and every one of them. Seeming to fall into a mental link they all sycronized and cocked the rifles and nodded to James as he had begun to move out.
Jamie ran. It wasn't the sort of running associated with cowardice, or a rout on the field of battle, and nor was it the running associated with exercise. It was the flat out, careless running associated with battlefield medics rushing to save a life, or firemen trying to get to a child trapped in a burning room. Jamie managed it while bearing Zoya's weight; not much, but enough to tire him more than usual. As he rounded one of the seemingly infinite corners, Jamie's brain processed the fact there was an ambush waiting for them. He brought his pistol up automatically, he fired three times, and the three men manning it went down.
Halting, he thumbed the ejector button on the pistol, dropping the now empty magazine out of it. There was still a round in the chamber; when he placed the new magazine in the butt of the pistol, it locked into place properly. Now when he fired the round in the chamber, he wouldn't have to worry about racking the slide back to chamber a new round. The recoil from the pistol would handle that. What Jamie was doing improperly was firing his pistol. Instead of the correct and widely accepted two handed stance, left pulling and right pushing, Jamie was firing one handed. While it was possible to fire like that and be accurate, it was much harder. Now the expert qualification on his small arms proficiency was proving its worth, as Jamie was proving his. Being a pilot slowed some men down when it came to physical exertion. Sometimes it took a larger toll than others, but in Jamie's case, it had taken no toll at all. He was still as capable at age 24, with the profession of piloting, than he had been at the age of 17, and working from before sunup to after sundown on his father's ranch and his uncle's farm.
Jamie now had eight dead men, direct results of actions he had taken, with view able consequences, to keep him awake at night. He had been able to pass the dogfights and missile kills off as simply planes, machines to be destroyed. He knew deep down it was a double standard, but it was one that had worked since World War One, the world over. The choice to kill, or be killed, is always easy at that point. The will to live overcomes almost any and all social prejudices against killing, and Jamie had made eight of those split second decisions that would haunt him for the rest of his life, however long or short. But for now, James Ian MacRae kept running, a Russian woman, a fellow person, slung across his shoulders while he did his best to keep her alive.
In his mind, he knew he needed a better way to carry her. The fireman's carry allowed parts of her to be targets. Curling her into a ball and carrying her in one arm presented a viable option, but if an enemy missed him and hit her..... Jamie didn't want that on his conscience. He had a younger sister, but he hadn't talked to her in six years. She was ten years younger than him. She flashed through his head, and then a pouch, like the kind kangaroos use. Zoya was smaller than Jamie. Using old shirts, he had made a sling pouch thing for his sister when she was tiny. Using that, he had carried his sister on his back. Zoya was small.... She could probably curl into a ball.... There were four shirts behind him now.... It clicked in his brain, and Jamie had his solution. Stopping once more, he turned, and without panting, issued orders.
"Take off your shirts. Rip them along the front, creating two halves, but kept together at the back. Like a button up shirt. Then tie them together to create one large blanket like item. Use your best damn knots. Do you know what kangaroos are? Well, I need to be able to fight. And I need both hands free for that, so I'm going to carry Zoya like she's a baby kangaroo, except on my back instead of my chest."
Halting, he thumbed the ejector button on the pistol, dropping the now empty magazine out of it. There was still a round in the chamber; when he placed the new magazine in the butt of the pistol, it locked into place properly. Now when he fired the round in the chamber, he wouldn't have to worry about racking the slide back to chamber a new round. The recoil from the pistol would handle that. What Jamie was doing improperly was firing his pistol. Instead of the correct and widely accepted two handed stance, left pulling and right pushing, Jamie was firing one handed. While it was possible to fire like that and be accurate, it was much harder. Now the expert qualification on his small arms proficiency was proving its worth, as Jamie was proving his. Being a pilot slowed some men down when it came to physical exertion. Sometimes it took a larger toll than others, but in Jamie's case, it had taken no toll at all. He was still as capable at age 24, with the profession of piloting, than he had been at the age of 17, and working from before sunup to after sundown on his father's ranch and his uncle's farm.
Jamie now had eight dead men, direct results of actions he had taken, with view able consequences, to keep him awake at night. He had been able to pass the dogfights and missile kills off as simply planes, machines to be destroyed. He knew deep down it was a double standard, but it was one that had worked since World War One, the world over. The choice to kill, or be killed, is always easy at that point. The will to live overcomes almost any and all social prejudices against killing, and Jamie had made eight of those split second decisions that would haunt him for the rest of his life, however long or short. But for now, James Ian MacRae kept running, a Russian woman, a fellow person, slung across his shoulders while he did his best to keep her alive.
In his mind, he knew he needed a better way to carry her. The fireman's carry allowed parts of her to be targets. Curling her into a ball and carrying her in one arm presented a viable option, but if an enemy missed him and hit her..... Jamie didn't want that on his conscience. He had a younger sister, but he hadn't talked to her in six years. She was ten years younger than him. She flashed through his head, and then a pouch, like the kind kangaroos use. Zoya was smaller than Jamie. Using old shirts, he had made a sling pouch thing for his sister when she was tiny. Using that, he had carried his sister on his back. Zoya was small.... She could probably curl into a ball.... There were four shirts behind him now.... It clicked in his brain, and Jamie had his solution. Stopping once more, he turned, and without panting, issued orders.
"Take off your shirts. Rip them along the front, creating two halves, but kept together at the back. Like a button up shirt. Then tie them together to create one large blanket like item. Use your best damn knots. Do you know what kangaroos are? Well, I need to be able to fight. And I need both hands free for that, so I'm going to carry Zoya like she's a baby kangaroo, except on my back instead of my chest."
As they continued down the hallway the tension seemed to elevate with every second. Zoya ha almost passed out, even the gunfire did not even make her jump a bit like normal. Everything has prety much stopped working in her mind except vital functions.
The gunfire had alerted the trailing three and they took up positions next to James, only to see he had eliminated the hostiles without them. Sasha decided to turn her back and keep her eye on their six while they listened to his instructions. At first it sounded crazy as hell, but then again it seemed like a wonderous idea all the same. All of them, including Sasha exited their shirts in a hearbeat, leaving them all in just their underlying bras. Then doing as they had been ordered they tore their shirts open and linked them together with the best knots they knew of. Then they tossed it to James whilst keeping watch forward and backward.
Sasha moved away from the group a bit, sliding with her back against the cold wall as she made her way to the last corner they had been to. She peeked around the corner, making sure it was clear. Something caught her eyes, movement of two figures, clad in black suits, they had black headgear and they held modern US weaponry. she did not know what to do, it could have been US special forces, or a new kind of foe.
The gunfire had alerted the trailing three and they took up positions next to James, only to see he had eliminated the hostiles without them. Sasha decided to turn her back and keep her eye on their six while they listened to his instructions. At first it sounded crazy as hell, but then again it seemed like a wonderous idea all the same. All of them, including Sasha exited their shirts in a hearbeat, leaving them all in just their underlying bras. Then doing as they had been ordered they tore their shirts open and linked them together with the best knots they knew of. Then they tossed it to James whilst keeping watch forward and backward.
Sasha moved away from the group a bit, sliding with her back against the cold wall as she made her way to the last corner they had been to. She peeked around the corner, making sure it was clear. Something caught her eyes, movement of two figures, clad in black suits, they had black headgear and they held modern US weaponry. she did not know what to do, it could have been US special forces, or a new kind of foe.
Jamie set Zoya down on the ground gently, took the shirts, and set them on the ground. Laying them out flat, he curled Zoya into a ball and set her on the shirts, carefully lifted it onto his back, and tied the loose ends together. Now his bulk protected her, and kept her warm, an additional aid in keeping her from going into shock. Tightening the pouch, Jamie checked his pistol thought for a moment. He needed to make sure they all stayed together; nothing would be worse than getting separated, except possibly if he got shot, which was an all too real possibility. "Alright. Sound off. Who's here?" He spoke quietly, sure they could hear him.
Zoya felt herself being surrounded by the material of the shirts, instinct kicked in there and she curled herself, painfully, into a fetal position, making herself as small as possible, feeling like a scared kitten once again.
On The other end of the group, Sasha had kept peeking around the corner again before sliding back to the rest of the group. "There are two contacts down the hallway. Clad in black armor..they hhave american weapons but I do not know if they are friendly or not." she stated ever softly to James. As she spoke the new news had caused Zasz and Hydra to turn and take aim at the hallway, they were not going to die, or at least they had no plans to.
On The other end of the group, Sasha had kept peeking around the corner again before sliding back to the rest of the group. "There are two contacts down the hallway. Clad in black armor..they hhave american weapons but I do not know if they are friendly or not." she stated ever softly to James. As she spoke the new news had caused Zasz and Hydra to turn and take aim at the hallway, they were not going to die, or at least they had no plans to.
Jamie slid to the corner and tightened his grip in the pistol. Jamie slid to the corner, shoulder pressed against the wall. What was something every service member in the US military knew? The date of birth of the United States Marine Corps, which was the tenth of November. They wouldn't let any one forget it. Calling out, Jamie spoke softly, to only let the two men in the hall hear. "Identify! What's the date of birth of the United States Marine Corps? Name, rank, service branch, and service number." Jamie kept his voice calm; in reality, his heart was pounding like a drum.
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