Nice work. It's obvious who set up the bomb.

This post has been edited by Wisdom_Cube on August 31, 2005 01:50 pm

Wonder no more my fanboys! I really thought it was obvious, but oh well.


The motorbike kicked gravel in a long arc behind it, with a silent but powerful roar. David couldnt help but smile while steering his bike back home. The mission had gone exactly as planned. The survivors from the lab entered the house, and activated the first trigger for his bomb.
When they inserted the key in the ammo storage, the second-stage fuse was activated, and all life forms in a radius of 20 feet was wiped off the earth. It had been tricky to get into the electric net protecting the house, but nothing was impossible for David Roxxor Lynd.

This is David again, I have the base in sight. Over. He quickly flicked his com device off again, and kept both hands steering the bike until he finally reached the security gates. They were pretty huge, at least 15 feet of pure rock. Cold, icy barbed wire glimmered from a searchlight sweeping over. A small slit in the front door opened, and a pair of eyes was fixed upon him.

Boss wants to see you. Hes in the top office.

No more word exchange than that was absolute necessary, David knew. He had gone in and out of this gate a lot of times. He stepped off the now completely silent bike and dragged it behind him.

The bike is that small? My radar told it was at least a few feet thicker. Well, never mind The normally neutral, but now puzzled security guard pressed a few numbers on a pad, and the steel door swung shut again.

Immoral Sniper did whatever he could to busy himself, moving around paperwork, scribbling a little on them, checking out random sheetsFinally his assassin arrived.

There you are. Good work, he said to the man that had just got in the door. He nodded towards a chair, and David sat down.

I know its against protocol to give too much intel to people beneath you, need-to-know and so on. But this case is gettingextraordinary, in lack of a better word.

Immoral clicked a pen a few times, and loosened his tie. When he looked on David again, the face was dramatically changed.

Its a crisis beyond understanding. We have lost a class nil-one lab, and worse, the area was contaminated. From the audio files we have retrieved from the net it seems like a virus on the loose. And to further escalate the situation, specimen of this virus was allowed to get out of the lab.

He stopped talking for a while, and began typing on his computer. An LCD screen came to life, showing only static.

What Im about to show you is very important, life-or-death class. And it will not leave this room, the sergeant said gravely to the special forces soldier.

The silence spoke for itself, and Immoral continued. He typed once again, and the static disappeared.



This is a restricted area, sir. Please, you have to show the right identification papers before I can let you through to this zone.

A black-white CCTV camera focused on a security guard, wearing a dark vest unknown to David. It was heavier than anything he had seen on regular security forces. 01 Labs was obviously for the most criticalor controversial research.

I mean it, sir. Youll have to show the papers now, or youll get escorted out of here.

He got no response. David was struggling to see whom he was talking to: there were nothing but the armed guard in front of a pressure-sealed door on-screen.

Relax, youll see soon enough. Perhaps too soon, Immoral said calmly.

I will not repeat myself, show the papers or your job is on the line. You need help to understand that?

The man was getting nervous, with one hand at a pistol holster. And then someone stepped into view on the other corner of the screen.

Shitare you wounded sir? Theres blood on you. Here, let me help.

A few drops of blood had hit the floor behind the new-come person, and had been smeared across the floor by the feet. And then the man attacked.
David had never seen anything like it. The bleeding man simply lunged forward with hands stretched out, grabbed around the officer in a death gripand bit him. AAAa-KRHZZZZKH
The camera couldnt handle the piercing scream, sounding off only as a pitched tone replaced by static. In seconds the guard had fell to the floor, his dark grey suit drenched in his own blood.

Thats not all. The same camera, two minutes later.

The guard had beeneaten huge parts of his arms and torso was gone. He had died in horrible pain. His killer had begun slamming at the sealed door, showing the intelligence of an animal. And now he was not alone. Several other people, acting exactly as the first, had joined him in slamming the door. One had torn at the bodys arm, trying to tear it off, by the looks of it. It was a half-way success, the skin and small lumps of flesh was ripped up to the shoulder section. The person was pleased by it, and began gnawing on the finding.

And the guard stood up. David was on the brink of puking as he saw the dead body stand up again! Showing no hostility towards whom had killed him, he began banging at the door. Just like the ever-increasing band of murderers.

They broke through some time later, Immoral Sniper said, into the living quarters of the HazMat squads. No survivors.

The video fast-forwarded, until it came black. Soon, it was replaced by a video of two thin strings, connected by even thinner ones.

We have been trying the last hours to find out what is happening to the people, making them act the way they do. We have nothing certain, only assumptions, but they seem to be somewhat right.

The strings were swirling around, and a part of David told him it was DNA.

Heres what you probably know is DNA. The thing that shows how were made. Now, weve been trying a lot lately to alter these strings of information, to order the body to do things. That really is restricted, so I wont go in detail. However

As he spoke the strings were bombarded with small red dots. When they hit they melted into the DNA.

Someone hacked into the serum we made, changing what it did. When you come in contact with this virus, it affects you almost immediately. These bastards multiply like mad inside your body, and within hours all of youre full of em.

David saw with his own eyes how the gene was becoming more and more red, until the final spots were covered. And soon, the whole thing broke up in a cloud of small dots.

When you die, and die you will, some genes have been instructed to shoot electricity through your body until it can maintain own existence by itself. Youre dead, in every way definable except that you move. No pulse, no breathnothing. Electrical pulses go straight from your muscles and into the utmost important brain parts. Only basic functions remain. Move, and feed.

The general was looking coldly at David.

This thing infected the whole lab. CCTV logs show less than ten persons actually standing a chance, and soon also they died. But they took the whole labs with them, generating a nuclear blast in the generator core. End of story, contamination containedwe thought.
A crew was sent in to deal with this, and a few made it out. Sadly they were bound to contain the virus, and we had to eliminate them. You did that, actually, less than twenty minutes ago.

So that was what the assassination was all about, David thought. He had received no information except where to place a bomb.

As before, we thought the situation was safe. Until we received this.

Out from nowhere a radio message was relaying a desperate man.

Were under attack by several hostile forces-Goddamnit, theyre all over us! They are not responding to anything, and they wont go down no matter how hard we try. Weve lost Smith, Harrison and Philips already! All available forces, come back to HQ ASAP, theyve pinned us down. Hurry!
The voice, covered in static, disappeared, and the room was once again silent.

As you heard these attackers show all the symptoms. We cant afford to let them infect this city. If we do so, there are more than four million plague bearers that are extremely likely to keep spreading it. All personnel, in the field or here, are on full alert and are equipped for heavy warfare as we speak, but only you and one other below me know it all about this. I cant say it enough: Dont screw this up.

David didnt bother to salute to his superior-in-command, but ran out as fast as he could. The military camp was flooded in light, and dark masses of people were running into their barracks and armories as if they had the devil himself behind them. A few soldiers rounded up in squads were already equipped, and moved towards a transport truck carrying heavy machineguns, chain-fed assault rifles, antimateriel rocket launchers, combat shotguns able to tear a car apart... Not one had regular rifles.


Heavy warfareIt isnt even enough, David muttered, cursing his job while readying hisalternate combat gear.





A lotta talk Next part is action

This post has been edited by Elite viking on August 31, 2005 03:28 pm

W00t! Tis good

tis kickass !

Nice!

I god damn knew it. I feel so stupid! DavidRoXorz omfg!

This post has been edited by Security Corporate on September 01, 2005 12:22 am

Add me! Brian needs to construct!

Jeez guys, didnt you even read hte whole thing? it said "David here" near end unless Viking just edited in, then nm. But im basically a replacement for ZombieSlaya lol and plz let Nikku and Hunter team up wit meh i dun want them to be my enemies. kthxbye

David stepped inside the armory, which was crowded with people running back and forth. The men and women that had gotten their combat gear ran out in organized chaos. There were weapons, ammo, vests and other equipment enough for everyone, but David wasnt interested in any of that. He had his own storage. To the left of the building were several doors with code pads instead of a doorknob. His fingers flew over the pad, entering his ten-cipher code with ease. The door swung open, and revealed the weapons for all kinds of missions: stealth, assault, heavy assault, urban\jungle\desert warfare, recon He walked straight to doomsday armament.

This gear was one of the most classified secrets in American history. It consisted of several kinds of equipment, depending on each other for success in the worst thinkable kinds of crisis, including nuclear fallout or warhead hijacking, recovery of classified info, and one-man army.
Before David was the Tin Man combat suit, fully loaded with all means for survival. In the right hand the metal monster held a TARA rifle prototype.

The Tin Man suit was made of thick metal plating in a diamond coating. It had a small nuclear generator in the chest region, providing the power needed to operate the exoskeleton inside the plating. Tests of the suit had given extraordinary results: No light or medium kinds of firearms was even close of penetrating, anything short of a point-blank hit with an artillery shell made more than but sparks as they ricocheted off. A user could survive without other nutrition than what provided in the suit for a month. Bad air, or the lack of air in general, was no problem since it had its own oxygen source made in the generator. The field of view could be lit up in infrared, low-light, target acquisition mode or all combined with the help of an LCD screen fitted into the five-inch plexi-glass with a direct link to a spy satellite.

The Tactical Armament Rapid Assault rifle was an improvement of the OICW rifles target computer. Now the rifle was linked into the Tin Man tactical view, showing an aiming reticule, remaining ammunition and other vital stats. It was a combined assault rifle and a tactical shotgun. The shotgun could be fitted with all kinds of rounds, varying on the mission. For this mission a computer had calculated that he would need ten HE buckshot rounds as well as thirty of the regular buckshot. His main weapon, the rifle, had received a chain with ammunition wound around the left arm. It was several feet long.

In addition it had prepared combat knives attached to the wrists of his metal suit. A file he had received about the suit told him that everything here was mind-controlled. Think acquire, and it acquires. Think wrist blades, and the combat knives shot out. A pretty nice gadget, he thought. Luckily it distinguished between random thoughts and commands.

He snapped out of his admiring, and pressed the palm of his hand against the suits torso, and it immediately came to life. To lamps in the helmet blinded him momentarily. He came closer to the visor, and let the computer scan him.

UserVerified. Welcome, master sergeant David Lynd.

The suit split open, and he stepped inside. Metal straps tightened around his limbs, and the suit closed again. Even if it was hard metal at the outside, the inside was covered in a soft but strong fabric.

Exoskeleton-activate, David thought, and the suit shook. The straps tightened a little more, and thenhe was in control. In smooth movements he moved his left hand over to the TARA rifle and pulled back the lever. The satisfying sound of a round sliding into space was amplified inside his helmet. Some things had to be done manually, for the pleasure of it.
Before he left he opened a small pouch and slipped a standard duty pistol inside.
His computer was analyzing all data he had received, searching his brain for intel. The calm female voice told David that the hostiles, codenamed Vulture only probable vulnerable point was their brain. Chances were 99.76 that the Vulture would die from a direct rifle shot, a little less if small-caliber or melee.

The floor shook beneath him when his plated boots hit. That part was always fun, to see the terror from others when they became aware of the Tin Man for the first and most likely last time. He passed through the crowds of soldiers in their gear. It was usually impressive, but leagues away from his computer-controlled fortress. He saluted to a few he was familiar with, and gave them one advice: Aim for the head, do not come too close.

He was about to board a monstrous personnel carrier when an equally monstrous hand landed at his shoulder. The computer did a sonar test in a matter of moments, and soon part of his visor was showing a model of another Tin Man class unit. Sonar showed 3 feet distance, 180 degrees behind him. His audio system sparked to life.

KRthzK Testing, one two. Do you read, over?

David reporting in, I read, he answered.

Ah, everything works. Im your co-operative Carl. Were in a separate attachment, spec-op missions. Our job is to secure an LZ for the blackhawks, then set up a perimeter. Shortly after the area has been secured the ground personnel will arrive in a convoy. After that we will mostly be doing quick attacks into the city core, Search-and-Rescue, Sabotage, you know the drill.

I see now where is our transport unit?

Were not going to use any of these transports. The boss always saves the juicy stuff for us you know, Carl said with a wink, and motioned David to follow him.

They stopped in front of two man-sized cylinders in chromed metal.

Here they are. Personal Transport jets, or PT if you like. They have real powerful thrusters that take us to the city in less than a minute. The inside is crammed with monitors and sensors that give your computer all you need to know in a flash. Now lets get in.

The doors swung up with a hiss of steam, and both elite commandos stepped into their PT. When safely inside the doors shut again, sealing the person inside hermetically from anything outside.

Kid, remember if it gets too hot for you, you can always fall back to your PT. Its safe as a fortress, and can withstand almost anythingas if this Tin suit isnt enough. I doubt well ever have to, just in case.

A flicker of doubt shone through what Carl said. David understood well. This kind of situation had never occurred before. Calling back operatives, sending all, all personnel into the city? What could possibly be happening inside this damned war zone?
The computers calm female voice awoke David from his thinking.

Launch ETA in approximatelynow.

The cylinder rocked for a millisecond, and then David felt the Gs pushing him to the bottom of his suit. Then his G equalizer kicked in. Damn, this suit had everything except a snack bar, David thought. All around him the screens were showing various intel; maps, heat scans, regular scans, video files, audio logs, security tapes. The works.

Brace for impact in three, two, one.

A few brake thrusters slowed the descent, David could hear. If those systems had failed hed be hitting concrete in more than four hundred miles per hour. But, as the computer now informed, the chance of that was one to a zillion.

Outside isfree for hostiles. Opening doors.

fSSSSssssh. That hiss again. When he stepped out, he could see Carl already out, checking the area. He seemed to be using a slightly older model of the suit. It was a lot bulkier, and he had a torchlight attached to his rifle instead of the regular doulbe lamps on the helmet. Perhaps one of those people meaning everything was better before.

My computer tells me this area is 100% free for hostile movement. Or any movement, for that sake, David told him.

You never know with these pcs, youd be better off checking out for yourself, he mumbled back, Anyway, lets move over to the LZ.

They moved in a back-to-back formation, having all possible directions where threats could come from, under control. Carl was looking towards their goal, David supporting himself against his rear.

Alright, its just up ahead. Lets light the tracker beacons and wait for the cavalry to arrive.

Gravel tumbling. The suit took over, forcing his gun towards the source of the sound. A few concrete shards had fallen off a building, sending muffled echoes all over the place. The suit worked quickly, scanning for anything inside the building. No heat source, no movement, nothing. David tried to shrug it off as nothing, but he couldnt. Instead he activated his beacon, and moved closer to Carl.

This place was getting really scary. He could take on a known enemy easy as anything, but waiting for his foe to strike? This city was meant to be a war zone, not a ghost town. If he hadnt had his low-light vision it would have been completely dark. And this was not the place where you wanted to be so. The only sounds he could hear was a chilling wind, and those rickety cement buildings that peeled off paint and concrete. It made him jump just as much, every time. Werent the choppers meant to land by now? For all he knew the rest of his crew could have been shot down, or captured, or infected, or quarantined, or
When the thudding of helicopters, amplified by his wonderful suit, finally reached him, he eased up. But the suit also amplified another set of noise.

Mumbling. Moaning. Feet dragging through trash. The Vultures knew they were here.

This post has been edited by Elite viking on September 30, 2005 04:57 pm

Omg !!11!!11!

It's Master cheif !!11!11!!11
He's gonna save kill us all !!!111!!!

NICE part.

nice work man, but im gonna have to get even with you in my story for blowing my place up. good work though!!

Lookin' good. I want one of those rifles...

(Who's Carl?)

Make sure that Hunter and Nick find us and team up with us, PLEASE

*Pokes with stick* *Steps on with Tin-Man suit* *punches* Hello...Dead?

Sorry for tp, but come on!!!!! BUMP BUMP!!!!!!!!!!!! *pokes with TARA rifle barrel*