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Most users ever online was 29 on October 1st 2013, 12:09 am


    'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

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    Shad0wChas3r
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    'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on November 27th 2013, 12:47 am

    Hey guys and welcome to yet another story that just barely popped into my mind recently, after having recently received Battlefield 4 the other day. Under no circumstances will this game have anything to do with the game play from BF4, but instead focuses on the other side of the conflict.

    There will be several references to both Battlefield 3 and 4's campaigns respectively, but there will be absolutely no ending spoilers with either. You should also note that this will not be a common thing, only to help boost the story. The characters and most of the plot points behind this story are completely and utterly my own creation, again bouncing off of characters and events from the games themselves.

    With that having been said, there will be a couple of references to OUR canons, whatever those may be. I'll try to hide them very well, first one to find them and bring them forward will win a cookie Razz.

    Thanks for being here, and I hope you'll enjoy this. The next quote box will be used as my reference sheet for all characters in my story, which will be updated as required.


    Date: November 27th, 2020.

    Location: TBA

    Important Characters/ Squads:

    [U.S]

    Marine Corps:

    -Spectre Squad-


    -Leader: G.Sgt Lance 'Lancelot' Knight.
       
    Loadout: M60-E4 Light Machine Gun, .44 Magnum(*), Machete(*) *Tempered Steel*, Ammo box, C4 Explosives.
     
    Description: Caucasian man with a strong build, weighs 250 lbs, regulation trimmed brown hair. Stands at about six feet, four inches in height. Blue-green eyes. The bridge of his nose is crooked, as if it had been broken on numerous occasions, rigid complexion.
       
    Personality: Bit of a hard ass. Fair leader, he's willing to listen to his squad, so long as they listen to him. Would die to save any of his men. Psychiatric report suggests he has suffered some traumatic event, and has become a bit introverted, removing himself from the usual, light-hearted squad antics. Loyal to the Corps., and everything they stand for.

    *Reserved for Squad Leader only, used as symbols of Command.

    ---------------------------------------------------------

    -SiCom. *Second in Command*: Sergeant John *Rocky* Rockefeller.
       
    Loadout: MTAR-21 Carbine, M9 Pistol, Knife *Carbon Fiber*, FGM-172 SRAW Anti-Air/Land launcher, EOD Bot.
       
    Description: Dark skinned man with a medium build leaning on the lighter side, he weighs around 190 lbs of pure energy. Standing roughly at six feet tall. He has hazel brown eyes. His rigid jaw looks a bit out of place, due to one incident where an enemy soldier smashed him with the butt of their rifle, causing irreparable damage. He has regulation short black hair.

    Personality: Loyal to the members of the Spectres, John sometimes takes the reins of the squad when Lance is having an episode or otherwise. He is a bit of a wise-ass, constantly cracking jokes to improve morale, and the moods of everyone in the squad. Invaluable as Co-leader of Wolf Squad.

    ------------------------------------------------------

    -Lance Cpl. Enrique *Ricky* Ramirez.
       
    Loadout: AUG A3 Assault Rifle, M9 Pistol, Bowie Knife, M320 HE Grenade Launcher, M26 Mass Underslung Shotgun *Slug rounds*.
       
    Description: Tan colored skinned man with a medium build leaning on the stronger side, he weighs around 230 lbs. Standing roughly at five feet, eleven inches tall. He has deep brown eyes. His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose, across his  right eye, and past the eye-brow. He possesses a squared buzz cut hairdo typically seen on boot camp greenhorns, dark brown hair.

    Personality: A 'to the book' kind of soldier, Enrique believes it is objective over safety when the mission clock is ticking. That isn't to say he'd abandon the squad *although John has his suspicions*, he would just put the objective first, ten times out of ten. He is a very neutral individual, willing to blow the face off of a lone civilian if they stood in the way of the objective's completion, much to the distaste of the entire squad. He has a very dark sense of humor, and seems a bit over the top womanizer when off-duty.

    ------------------------------------------------------------------

    -Corporal Medic Jenner *Doc* Son.
       
    Loadout: M39 EMR Designated Marksman Rifle, P226 Pistol, Knife *Bayonet*, Defibrillator, First Aid box *multiple kits inside*.
       
    Description: Caucasian man with a light build, he weighs around 176 lbs. Standing roughly at five feet seven inches tall. He has hazel green eyes. He has grown a very light blonde beard which encompasses his face as mere stubble. His blonde hair is neatly parted to one side, causing many jokes from the other members of the squad.

    Personality: Loyal to his Religion, and the other members of the squad. Jenner is a conscientious objector, opting to be the squad's designated medic after being drafted into the war effort. While he is a very patient man, he is easily offended when the other members of the squad poke fun at the way he presents himself and his Religion.

    ---------------------------------------------------- 

    -Private William *V* Valentine.
       
    Loadout: SRR-61 Sniper Rifle, M1911 Pistol, ACB-90 Knife, MAV Reconnaissance UAV Drone , M18 Claymore.
       
    Description: Dark skinned man with a light build. He weighs around 165 lbs. Standing at five feet six inches tall, he is the shortest member of the squad. He has dark brown eyes. Despite his lack of coordination in close quarters engagements, William is quite the crack-shot in long ranged fire-fights. He has his black hair short, nearly bald like.

    Personality: Youthful, ignorant, and in Lance's eyes; a pest that has a lot to learn. He is officially the youngest and shortest member on the squad. With a heart of gold and a willingness to take his enemies down recklessly, but efficiently. He has problems following orders, whether it is to spite Lance or not is left to be seen, William is the kind of person to act first, ask later. Especially when it comes to civilians.
    That's unfortunately all I can give you for the characters at this particular moment. I will try my hardest to actually make their dossier's look somewhat better than this. Trying to read them is making my eyes blurry and hurt, and the stupid quoting boxes might be broken again.

    There will be more U.S/Allies Squads to appear when they are introduced, and even perhaps some important enemy squads. Perhaps being the strongest word in that sentence. I'll try to get some kind of Prologue up soon.


    _________________


    \\'Boyo\\'

    Thanks for Reading!

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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on November 29th 2013, 1:11 am

    Prologue: Future of Red.

    The constant echo of combat boots making contact with the cold, hard steel of the U.S.S Valor's floors resounded in Captain Barry Douglas' ears. Sighing, he knew instantly what was coming through that door behind him, and he dreaded it.

    Turning on his heels, he quickly raised his right hand over his eyebrow in a crisp salute, as the bulk-head door hissed, it's pressure releasing. Stepping through the archway were three individuals, two of which were clad in deep blue suits, wearing white hats with the bald eagle insignia. One a man, the other a woman, a curt smile on her aging face. The third of the trio wore a deep black suit, a ear-piece in his left ear, and a pair of dark shades over his eyes.

    "Rear Admiral Stewart, and Vice Admiral Powers. Welcome aboard sir and ma'am!" Douglas held firm, as the two admirals returned the gesture.

    "Captain Douglas, you of all people know what it means to have a pair of Admirals aboard your ship." Vice Admiral Amy Powers scoffed.

    "Yes ma'am!" Douglas replied with a curt nod. "There is a whole bunch of different variations as to why I owe this privilege, ma'am. Permission to speak freely, ma'am?"

    "Granted." she replied with a wave of her hand.

    "Why is there a spook in my C.I.C?" Douglas asked bravely, quickly and very resentfully did he glare at the man in black.

    "A good question." Rear Admiral Gerald Stewart replied. "In due time Captain. Firstly, and most prevalent on my mind; is Spectre squad still operational?"

    "Aye sir!" Douglas nodded. "They're currently prepping for an op in Holland, sir. Their bird takes off in a few minutes."

    The air within C.I.C stood still as Admirals Stewart and Powers pondered for a moment, glancing over at the man in black. Douglas took a moment to gather as much information on the spook as possible. He remained calm, which assured Douglas that he wasn't afraid of either of the Admirals. The Government would only send in spooks of his kind in for an operation of dire requirement.

    "That's fine with me, Captain." the man in black spoke up with a baratone, blunt force. "If I may, I will wait within their quarters until they return from their op."

    "Listen here you," Douglas grit his teeth, pointing at the spook. "You ain't going to do anything until I get some god-damned answers!"

    "Settle down Barry." Admiral Powers growled with venom. "So long as we are on your ship, you will do as we say. I am granting him full access to the ship. You may leave, Agent Kent."

    With that, the Agent walked out through the bulk-head and into the main ship. Captain Douglas paced back and forth, nothing got under his skin more than spooks sniffing around his ship, Admiral Powers coming in a very close second.

    "Barry, you must understand. Something very huge has come up, and for the time being, Spectre is the best unit we have readily available in the Atlantic." Admiral Stewart replied, respectfully sitting in one of the chairs. "You and the Valor were both stationed in the beach of Normandy six years ago, when the PLR set off that nuke?"

    "It's not something you can easily forget." Douglas growled, running his left hand across his face, feeling the plastic consistency of his grafted skin. "I was in the country-side when it went off, I was blessed not to be reduced to ashes, like many of the civilians within the city. Hell, I recall a Sergeant took down the bastard that planned the attacks on Paris and NYC."

    "Yes, and it's good you bring up New York's attack." Powers scoffed. "That Sergeant had heard of the attack from an old Russian Spetnaz soldier. Goes by the name Dimitri Mayakovsky. After Sergeant Blackburn's encounter with 'Dima', the Red went under the radar."

    "How does any of this matter to me, my crew, or Spectre squad?" Douglas shook his head. "Ma'am?"

    "Dima is believed to have been a member of a 'clean-up' squad that was stationed in Paris to disarm the bomb and stop the French from pushing the Americans to declare war on the Russians." Stewart replied. "Dima's squadron failed their mission, and now the Russians are preparing for war. If we get Dima, we get the facts on who planned those attacks, and stop a potential war with Russia."

    "Anything else I should know, sir?" Douglas asked, slowly exhaling.

    "Your sister ship, the U.S.S. Valkyrie, has been stationed outside of the South China Sea, along with the Titan and many other ships in our fleet. Reports are saying that the third nuke that Misfit discovered all of those years ago are being used as a trading deal between the PLR, Russia, and China to develop some sort of Military coup d' etat against Chinese Government." Stewart grimaced. "If shit hits the fan, the Russians will be gaining a very powerful ally, and a war is almost assured."

    "So there will be no fuck ups, Captain." Powers growled. "Get the job done, get us Dima. Gerry, you are to remain on this ship and keep this one in line, understood?!"

    "Aye, aye. Ma'am." Stewart nodded, as the old woman exited the room. "Crotchety ol' bat, isn't she. Sometimes I wish she'd keel over and I could take her position. Then you could get a decent commendation from me and take my old place. At least there would be some actual logic within the Admirality board."

    "At least she knows the threat is real." Douglas shrugged, pulling out a pair of whiskey glasses. "Scotch?"

    "You know better," the Admiral chuckled. "I'm Irish!"

    "Yeah, but drinking Scotch is no insult to Leprechauns like yourself, sire!" Douglas smiled, pulling out his Scottish accent.

    Douglas grinned, pouring the liquid into the two glasses, sliding one down the table to the Admiral. The Irishman took the glass, swirled it for a moment, before taking a brave sip, nearly recoiling at it's taste.

    "You know better than that Barry." Gerald nodded. "When Amy isn't around, you don't have to be quite so formal. Outside of our Uniforms, we're still buddies from Basic."

    "Forever and ever, Gerry." Barry replied, raising his glass. "I am curious though, why Spectre? They've faced some hardships recently, aren't you afraid that will effect their combat efficiency?"

    "Not at all. Gunnery Sergeant Knight has an outstanding record, as does all of the men in his command." Gerry smiled, taking another sip. "I am curious though. What in the hell could possibly be so important that you had to send Spectre to HOLLAND?"

    "They're after an important VIP." Douglas chuckled with a deep grin. "Personal order."
    ---------------------------------------------------------

    "I got eyes on the VIP, Squad Leader." Enrique Ramirez replied.

    "That's good to hear, I was afraid you might've fucking lost 'em Ricky." Lance Knight shook his head, pulling out his wallet. "For Christ's sake, Douglas didn't give me enough Euros to cover the cost. Doc, you're a Jew, you got anything to spare?"

    "With all due respect Squad Leader, bite me." Jenn growled. "I'm not Hebrew, alright?!"

    "Well you've got some kind of Relgion that not even God himself knows!" Enrique shrugged. "Squad Leader was just checking."

    "Don't you dare use the lord's name in vain!" Jenn replied.

    "He's not using it in vein. In order to do that, he'd need a syringe!" John Rockefeller shook his head. "He's just joshing around Doc, you know this."

    "Easy for you to say Rocky, you and Ricky go way back."

    "Now that isn't true. Squad Leader and I go way back. Ricky is still the greenhorn in our eyes." John pat Ricky on the back with a grin.

    "All of you shut the hell up and help me pay for this god-damn anniversary cake!"

    ------------------------------------------

    "You sent Spectre on a mission to a bakery?" Gerry pondered the thought for a moment, before falling out of his chair in laughter. "What in the hell did you do that for?"

    "Valor's been afloat for fifty years now, most ships her age get retired. But she's a strong, butch ol' gal. So I baked her a cake, and I'm gonna make her crew eat it too."

    "That Agent K is going to have a fit when he finds out about this Barry."

    "He always has the option of swimming if he doesn't like the way I run things around here." Douglas chuckled, pouring himself another glass of Scotch. "Figured we could at least celebrate while the storm was calm. 'Cause once we hit Moscow, one of two things are going to happen, and to be frank, I fear both outcomes."


    Last edited by Shad0wChas3r on November 29th 2013, 11:59 pm; edited 1 time in total


    _________________


    \\'Boyo\\'

    Thanks for Reading!


    zman007playr
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  zman007playr on November 29th 2013, 12:05 pm

    Hmmmm Razz this is a very interesting start, I love it! Very good Shads, very good! One thing though, with the navy people, the response of "Aye, Aye" is only used to say "Understood" or "I'll get it done". Razz We still use yes and no lol. But other than that little, tiny thing, an amazing story.
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    Manny
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Manny on November 29th 2013, 5:16 pm

    -Lance Cpl. Enrique *Ricky* Ramirez.
        
    Loadout: AUG A3 Assault Rifle, M9 Pistol, Bowie Knife, M320 HE Grenade Launcher, M26 Mass Underslung Shotgun *Slug rounds*.
        
    Description: Tan colored skinned man with a medium build leaning on the stronger side, he weighs around 230 lbs. Standing roughly at five feet, eleven inches tall. He has deep brown eyes. His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose, across his  right eye, and past the eye-brow. He possesses a squared buzz cut hairdo typically seen on boot camp greenhorns, dark brown hair.

    Personality: A 'to the book' kind of soldier, Enrique believes it is objective over safety when the mission clock is ticking. That isn't to say he'd abandon the squad *although John has his suspicions*, he would just put the objective first, ten times out of ten. He is a very neutral individual, willing to blow the face off of a lone civilian if they stood in the way of the objective's completion, much to the distaste of the entire squad. He has a very dark sense of humor, and seems a bit over the top womanizer when off-duty.
    -Lance Cpl. Enrique *Ricky* Ramirez.
        
    Description: Tan colored skinned man with a medium build leaning on the stronger side, he weighs around 230 lbs. Standing roughly at five feet, eleven inches tall. He has deep brown eyes. His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose, across his  right eye, and past the eye-brow. He possesses a squared buzz cut hairdo typically seen on boot camp greenhorns, dark brown hair.
    Standing roughly at five feet, eleven inches tall. He has deep brown eyes. His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose, across his  right eye, and past the eye-brow.
    His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose, across his  right eye, and past the eye-brow.
    His nose is crooked inherited at birth, he has a scar running across the bridge of his nose,
    His nose is crooked inherited at birth,
    His nose is crooked
    My eyes legitimately homed in on that part of the sentence. There was only ONE phrase going through my head.

    "What do you know?"
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    dragon of darkness

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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  dragon of darkness on November 29th 2013, 6:55 pm

    William defiantly sounds like me through and through
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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on November 29th 2013, 11:40 pm

    Manny wrote:
    His nose is crooked
    My eyes legitimately homed in on that part of the sentence. There was only ONE phrase going through my head.

    "What do you know?"
    To Manny:

    I am confused as to why you ask this? Many families have little things about them, such as nose shape, that are hereditary. My wording might've been incorrect in saying so, but I was hoping the readers would understand what I was trying to get at, as I was at a loss for better words.

    -Or you are implying that I based Enrique off of you and that you, in fact, have a crooked nose at birth.

    Either way, thanks for reading!
    To Zman:

    Glad to hear it. I had thought that I put the 'Aye, Aye' in context later on in the story, when Gerald was affirming the Vice Admiral's orders.

    Other uses of Aye are used as the Celtic *Irish/Scottish* way of saying 'yes'.

    Example:
    "Would you like another slice of cake, Douglas?" Gerald asked boldly.

    "Aye, Gerry, I would." Douglas nodded, passing his plate over.

    Either way, thanks for the tip and the read. I'm glad you are enjoying it thus far.
    To Hope 'Dragon':

    I sure as hell hope you aren't insubbordinate. In the Military, that can get you into a LOOOOT of trouble. I may not actually be Military myself, but I can assure you Zman here has been, and is probably familiar with any and all rules.

    That all aside though, that's an interesting fact. Not something I was particularly aiming for, but interesting nonetheless. Hope you enjoyed the read Hope.


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    Manny
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Manny on November 30th 2013, 1:00 am

    To Manny:

    I am confused as to why you ask this? Many families have little things about them, such as nose shape, that are hereditary. My wording might've been incorrect in saying so, but I was hoping the readers would understand what I was trying to get at, as I was at a loss for better words.

    -Or you are implying that I based Enrique off of you and that you, in fact, have a crooked nose at birth.

    Either way, thanks for reading!
    Oh it wasn't that. You said you based this off "our canon", and as far as I know none of us have written a battlefield story. SO, I though back as to why Enrique Ramirez (based of my characters it seems), had a crooked nose.

    In "our" canon, at least our "joke canon", Manuel has been punched numerous times in the nose because of the phrase "What do you know". Being punched that many times is bound to leave it crooked one day.

    Which led me to believe Enrique Ramirez here has a crooked nose, based of the canon that says Manuel gets punched in the nose a lot.
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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on November 30th 2013, 1:10 am

    Manny wrote:
    To Manny:

    I am confused as to why you ask this? Many families have little things about them, such as nose shape, that are hereditary. My wording might've been incorrect in saying so, but I was hoping the readers would understand what I was trying to get at, as I was at a loss for better words.

    -Or you are implying that I based Enrique off of you and that you, in fact, have a crooked nose at birth.

    Either way, thanks for reading!
    Oh it wasn't that. You said you based this off "our canon", and as far as I know none of us have written a battlefield story. SO, I though back as to why Enrique Ramirez (based of my characters it seems), had a crooked nose.

    In "our" canon, at least our "joke canon", Manuel has been punched numerous times in the nose because of the phrase "What do you know". Being punched that many times is bound to leave it crooked one day.

    Which led me to believe Enrique Ramirez here has a crooked nose, based of the canon that says Manuel gets punched in the nose a lot.
    Damn, you sure you aren't Sherlock Holmes? I'm being completely and utterly serious right now. You've deduced everything.

    With one minor slip up, I had forgotten that running gag that Manuel had. However, you are correct in the fact that each and every character *some more obvious than others* are based off of SOMETHING everyone has done on the Database. Some people, like Zman or Dragon, however, haven't been included at this particular point in time.

    But the ENTIRE secret has yet to actually be revealed with this 'easter egg hunt' of sorts. It's much deeper than 'Ramirez=Manuel', 'cause that isn't necessarily true either xD. Keep that in mind.


    _________________


    \\'Boyo\\'

    Thanks for Reading!

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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on November 30th 2013, 2:09 am

    Chapter 1: Legs.

    "Look Doc, you got to be less sensitive of the jokes." John shrugged, nudging Jenner on his shoulder. "I know you're the newest member of the team. Believe me, when Knight and I first started in Spectre, man, those Hazings were just so terrible. Sometimes, I wish this elephant could forget."

    "I don't understand, what Elephant, what-"

    "Nevermind. The point I'm trying to get across to you is that the hazing will die down eventually. Just don't let it get to your head. Basic training hazing is worse than this shit. Damn, Drill Sarge kept pulling out those damn racial slurs like it was going out of style."

    Jenner shrugged, peering down at the ocean below their buzzard. Watching the Atlantic ocean sway with the calling of the moon. What John had said has some clarity, he would have to find a means to either get back at them, or let it slide.

    "Damn baker anyways! Coño, nos sobrecarga!" Enrique spat.

    "Cool it Gonzalez." Jenner replied with a grin, John chuckling quietly beside him. "You should thank the lord you have such wealth."

    "Su- such wealth? Are you kiddin' me, gringo?!" Enrique steamed. "Where I come from, the money I spent on this goddamn cake would have fed my entire town for months. Ignorante hijo de puta!"

    "Lay off Ramirez." Knight growled from the center seat, holding the box with the giant cake on the floor before him steady. "Jenner's trying to get you back for earlier. Did a damn fine job too. He's been with us for over a year now, I think the time for mindless hazing has passed. Playful joking, sure, why the hell not. Just keep it to a minimum when I'm around, that's an order."

    "So, you mind telling us why the hell Captain Kilt-head decided to send his best squad out to get a cake, sir?" Enrique shook his head furiously.

    "Modesty can only get you so far. Sounds like you got Montezuma's revenge of the mouth this afternoon." Knight growled.

    "An' all of you know why the hell Douglas sent us out here, not because he doubts our abilities. But some leave time does help ease the pain. That, and we had to make sure the cake was perfect." Knight glanced around at his team. "Valor's fifty years young boys, and she ain't getting any younger. Spectre's been serving her for every one of those years, and it just so happens to be us to serve her on the fiftieth. This is as much of a birthday for the lady as it is for her sons."

    John and Jenner both bowed their heads in thought as the Gunnery Sergeant's attitude raised. Enrique whistled, glancing back out into the ocean blue beneath them. The only noise within the Littlebird was the rotors above their heads. All members deep in thought as to what was bothering them all, the one thing that always came to mind whenever someone cracked a joke.

    Their thoughts, however, were thrown off when the Pilot snickered, glancing at their Helipad on the Valor.

    "Uh Spectre. Don't know what kind of Holland baker you guys met with, but there's some kind of spook on the Helipad."

    "Thanks for the head's up Boris." Knight shook his head, cutting the comm. "Just our luck, isn't it. Even a cake delivery op has to be examined by the damn CIA, FBI, or whatever goddamn branch of our 'awesome' Government can throw at us."

    "Oo-hah." John replied, thrusting his fist into the air. "No mission is easy in the Marines, Gunny."

    Everyone remained silent as the Littlebird chopper touched down on the Helipad, a man with shades and a black monkey suit approached them.

    "Gentlemen, good to have you all here-"

    "Some Intelligence Officer." Knight growled.

    "Look, I can either come off as a syrupy sweet, 'butt fuck you if you ask me' kind of guy," the man clenched his fists. "-Or I can get really mean, pull rank, and insult your mothers. Sound better?"

    "Much." Knight spat, patting his Machete knife. "For the record, never say 'butt fuck' around my men again, or I'll cut it off."

    "Noted, Sergeant." Vice Admiral Powers approached them. "Is this really the kind of attitude you would show to a superior officer?"

    "No ma'am." Knight replied, standing in a crisp salute. "To what do we owe the pleasure, ma'am?"

    "You and I both know that's bullshit Sergeant Knight. You hate me, and I sure as hell hate you." she growled. "But because you at least made the attempt to be polite, I will give you an answer. Agent Kovic is here to accompany you on an actual VIP op. Not some pastry run."

    "To be fair though ma'am, we suffered heavy casualties, ma'am." John saluted. "Our wallets need immediate medical treatment."

    "Keep the jokes up, Rockefeller, and it will SERIOUSLY be hurting for cash." Powers grunted, glaring into his eyes. "Kovic will brief you after you have finished your current-foolish-operation.

    -----------------------------------------

    Gerald and Barry laughed heartily, gazing out at the high seas, singing together while they watched the waves crash against the ship's hull.

    "The whole world's sittin' on a tickin' bomb." Gerald grumbled with his shaky voice.

    "-AN' IT'S ABOUT TO EXPLOOOOOOOOOODE!" Barry swayed back and forth powerfully.

    "The whole world's sittin' on a tickin' bomb, the whole world's sittin' on a tickin' bomb." Gerald whispered along.

    "And it don't care, which side yer on! The whole world's sittin' on a tickin' bomb." Barry shouted in his tipsy stupor.

    "This is the kind of conduct you got on my ass about a few months ago, sir." Knight chuckled as they entered the bridge with the cake. "But I'll let it slide on account that you did for me too. A favor for a favor."

    "Damn right chu will, Gunnery Sergeant." Barry slurred as he turned around.

    "And what's the deal with the spook?" John asked. "You hate them just as much as we do, sir."

    "I'll debrief you in due time, Spectre." Gerald held up a finger, stumbling slightly towards the table. "First thinks first though, we celebrate yer ship's birthday. Yesh, I am attendin', hope ye don't mind."

    "The more the merrier!" Knight shrugged with a grin. "Jenner, the champagne."

    Jenner nodded, reaching into his satchel, removing the bottle of champagne, as Douglas produced a few more glasses. John took his carbon fiber knife, plunging the narrow blade into the cork. The seal with broken with an audible hiss, as foam frothed from the top and into the glasses below.

    When each person within the bridge had their glasses filled, and the cake had been distributed, Douglas glanced down at his watch, ticking down the exact seconds in Zulu time until the Valor's official cast-off time.

    "Five-four-three-two...." Douglas smirked. "It's official gentlemen, the Valor's been afloat for fifty years solid now. Can't thank you guys enough for being here to celebrate this monumental achievement."

    "Spectre, Captain," Gerald spoke up, standing. "I propose a toast. To the Valor and all of her crew."

    "Hear, hear!" Knight replied, raising his glass, his squad-mates joining suit.

    "I'd also like to give a toast, as Captain of the ship." Douglas nodded. "To Spectre, the one squad that's been alive just as long as the Valor has. For keeping her afloat for all of these years. Here's to many more years for the Valor and her boys, Spectre."

    "Hoo-ah!" Spectre squad replied, valiantly lifting their glasses, as everyone took a drink.

    "Very touching." Agent Kovic growled from the door. "Drinking while on duty, I should and could write up a humble report if I wanted to. But luckily for all of you, I have an important matter that needs attending, which Spectre Leader, of course."

    Knight growled in subtle frustration, placing his glass and cake on the table. Following along with Kovic, he plucked his Machete out of it's pouch, sharpening it on the pocket sized whetstone he carried around.

    "So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Agent Casper?"

    "Funny buttercup." Kovic growled as the two walked along the deck. "It would seem that the very clear and present danger that the Chinese and Russians project means very little to you and your merry band of fuck-faces. I ain't here to be your buddy, nor am I here to be a part of your happy fun times celebrating the 'birthday' of an out-dated ship."

    "I'm here to ensure that you don't fuck it up."

    "So I've heard. But you know, it seems like whenever someone tells me not to fuck something up, they generally tell me what I'm NOT supposed to fuck up." Knight grit his teeth. "So let's start from the beginning, Princess. What is it that you need from Spectre?"

    "That's what I like to hear." Kovic nodded with genuine respect.

    -------------------------------------------------------

    "So basically, we're after a vodka drinker linked to the Paris and NYC attacks from almost six years ago."

    "Do you really need to have me tell you again, or are you just playing dumb."

    "Hey hey, for a first time out, I think this is the most fun I've had ever." Knight shook his head with a snort. "Don't tell the missus though, she'll take your ass down faster than a Navy Seal."

    "Look, the target is suffering radiation poisoning, and we fear he doesn't have much time left." Kovic sighed, defeated. "His own PEOPLE arrested him, and they might be using him as a trade deal with the Chinese or worse... the PLR."

    "Give my men a couple of guns and a point in the right direction, and we'll be back in time for dinner." Knight leaned over the bar, glancing into the Atlantic ocean.

    "The next thing I'm going to tell you isn't any easier than what I've already said." Kovic sighed, standing beside him. "My bosses have plucked G.I. Joe's own sniper expert to join your team."

    "Pfft." Knight shook his head in disbelief. "Don't even give us time-"

    "That comes later, Gunnery Sergeant. You need this G.I on your squad for this op. You can choose if he stays or goes afterwards."

    "You're expecting a Dogface to join a squadron of Leathernecks? You're out of your damn mind, spook."

    "Technically he's a freelancer for the Military. He doesn't belong to any particular branch."

    "Fine." Lance sighed. "When can I expect him on the Valor?"

    "He's in Spectre's barracks right now, Sergeant. I suggest you hail him to the bridge for further briefing." Kovic shook his head, walking his way over to the Helipad, pointing at Lance. "And remember, don't fuck this up!"

    Waving his right arm in a circle above his head, Kovic eagerly awaited a Little-bird Helicopter to descend. Ducking his head, he took his seat, glaring towards Knight, who glared right back.

    Once Kovic was out of sight, Lance flailed his arms around in great anger, before resting on the bars again. Filling his lungs with the salty air of the ocean's mist, he glanced down at the magnum in his holster, and observed his Machete's glean in the mid-afternoon's light. Gripping the handle tightly, he stood there for a moment more, before returning to the C.I.C. This new kid on the squad was going to have to earn his sea-legs.


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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on December 5th 2013, 12:21 am

    Finished editing the latest update. Thanks for your patience guys. Another Update will be on the way soonish.


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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on December 11th 2013, 1:04 am

    Chapter 2: New Management.

    "Pack up your things boys, we've got a fresh pair of boots that are waiting to get wet."

    "Are you talking literally or figuratively Gunny?" Jenner replied, turning his head to his NCO. "'Cause my actual boots are getting a bit worn out, sir."

    "Boy, you Jews and your materialism." Enrique chuckled, chasing down another glass of Champagne.

    "For the last time, taco-stand! I'm a MORMON!!" Jenner growled. "I'm not a Jew, and I'm not a Christian!"

    "No, but you ARE a racist, cono." Enrique snapped. "You gotta learn to take a joke mang."

    "Says the only one in the squad that tries to follow everything exactly to the book. Even on a Cake op." John chuckled. "Lay off of him, and stop backing him up into a corner, and you won't get burned Ricky."

    Suddenly, the C.I.C was filled with a high pitched, ear-splitting whistle, heads turning to Lance.

    "Jesus, sometimes I swear you guys are a bunch of bickering old ladies. I SAID we got some fresh meat on the squad, and a job to do. Now hustle the fuck up, and get your asses moving." Lance barked, his men scuttling out the door. "Sorry to cut this short. Captain, Admiral, sirs."

    When he wasn't on duty, Lance was easily one of the most carefree squad leaders aboard the Valor, but the moment that mission clock started ticking, whether or not he liked it, he had to do what was necessary to keep what was left of his team alive.

    Barry and Gerald both saluted the soldier, sighing while he walked away.

    "A good man, that one is." Barry shook his head. "He's been taking it all so well."

    "I only heard rumors, mind clarifying what had happened?" Gerald asked.

    "It was some OP in Iran, 'bout four months ago."

    "Operation Shifting Mountains, I remember that." Gerald nodded.

    "Yeah, well Spectre and the Valkyrie's head squad Tombstone were sent in to assassinate a high priority subject, the next in line leader to the PLR."

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Thirteen Months Prior.
    Tehran, Iran

    "Man, I don't like this, not one bit."

    "Irish, is there ANYTHING you don't like?"

    "Shut up both of you, Recker, you got eyes on?"

    "Affirmative, Squad Leader."

    "Mang, this is some straight up bullshit." Enrique growled. "If we keep chattering like this, we'll ALL get spotted."

    "-And you putting your two cents in helps how exactly?" Knight snarled.

    "Look, how about both of you shut the fuck up before I make you." Gunnery Sergeant Luke 'Lazer' Serpent replied. "Rockefeller, Jenner, wake the fuck up! Sergeant Dunn, I'm really sorry about this."

    Knight glanced around the room to where Rockefeller and Jenner sat, propped up against the wall, eyes closed. Creeping over towards them, he struck his left and against John's cheek first, then Jenner's second.

    "It's nearing go time ladies, time for beauty sleep to end."

    "Yeah, you look like you need it more than us." John growled, standing.

    "Wow, and I sometimes though Tombstone was disfunctional." Irish chuckled, the lanky African American turning his attention away from the window a minute to look over at them.

    "Hey Irish, you're really testing your luck here." Dunn growled. "A pack of wolves is no good one when they're biting each other. Spectre is just as good, if not better, than Tombstone."

    "Really though Irish, you're always trying to be the hero, but now you're dissing people. That's rude, dude."

    "Pac, I love you man, but you gotta understand. They keep blabbing their mouths, and all of us are going to be better off dead."

    "Then here's a grand idea." Luke growled. "How about we all shut the fuck up and search for the target. We've been told to take this asshole out discretely, but the Valkyrie and Valor are prepared to unload Cruise missiles if needed. I'd prefer not having a swarm of angry towel-heads chasing me with Korans and burning American flags, would you?"

    With that, the small stakeout room became silent, Recker, Irish, Dunn, and Pac keeping their eyes peeled, John, Jenner, Enrique, Knight and Luke quickly chowing down on their MRE's. Waiting for the shifts to change.

    "Squad Leader." Recker, the outspoken of Tombstone, stated. "I think I've got a positive I.D on our target. Pac, you got the shot, I should be lasering him right now."

    "I got your laser, buddy." Pac nodded, preparing his JNG-98 sniper rifle.

    "Wait, hold your fire." Recker replied. "Squad Leader, I think I see-"

    "Shit, we're spotted!!" Pac growled. "His damn body guards are forming a barrier for him and the other guy. I can't get the shot Dunn."

    "Fucking great." Dunn growled. "Captains Garrison and Douglas. We've been spotted. Requesting exfil and Cruise Missiles on our paint."

    "We hear you boyo, Ensign, prepare Cruise Missile. Garrison, I'll send in the Little Birds."

    "Understood Captain, Ensign, launch Cruise Missile on my mark. Tombstone, get your asses out of there."

    "That's gonna be a little difficult Dunn." Pac slammed his fist against the wall he used to steady his bi-pod. "Enemy forces are converging on our POS."

    "Still can't positively identify the other person, but their getting in an armored vehicle on the street!"

    "We can't be bothered to risk this chance on a diversion. Keep that paint on the actual VIP Recker!"

    "Man, I don't like this." Irish said. "Cruise's in the distance."

    "Irish." Luke replied. "I don't care if you like it or not, but I really need your help. Lancelot and Rocky are going to head out onto the balcony out back and prevent any breaches. I need you with Jenner and Enrique to flank, think you can handle it?"

    "I'm your man." Irish nodded. "I'll be back soon Tombstone. Do or fuckin' die!"

    Knight and John stood over the balcony, both of their weapons raised. John's M-TAR carbine and Knight's M60-E4 LMG. Laying full prone, Knight opened his bi-pods for added stability, John crouching beside him to cover his blind spot.

    A brief explosion of dirt, concrete, and other debris showed the abandoned Hotel's back courtyard, the PLR soldiers responsible charging forward. Knight opened fire, his gun briskly bounced against his shoulder as he went full auto, mowing down the Arabic soldiers that dared walk through the door.

    John used his Carbine to finish off those left standing, while Irish, Enrique, and Jenner stationed themselves on both the right and left side balconies. Their combined fire effectively dispatching any and all resistance hiding behind the walls.

    "Holy shit, they MISSED?!" Dunn growled. "We had that painted on the god-damn skyscraper itsel- Oh no."

    "What's going on in there?!" Knight growled.

    "Douglas and Garrison have piss-poor aim, that's what!" Luke panicked. "They struck the pillars on the bottom floor."

    From Lukes perspective, the pillars holding the easily hundred story building crumbled to dust, as the entire monstrosity buckled under it's own weight. The metal that made it's frame groaned in the shift in weight, the glass that made it's windows shattered from the stress.

    "Call me crazy, but I think that thing is falling our way!" Pac growled.

    "I think your right. This isn't a fight for the wolf pack!" Dunn growled. "Serpent, let's get our men the fuck out of here, eh?"

    "DON'T NEED TO TELL ME TWICE!" Knight growled, standing, waving his arm at the other three. "GET CLEAR, TIMBER IS THE SKYSCRAPER!"

    With that, Irish, Enrique, and Jenner vaulted over the balcony and into the courtyard, opening fire on any PLR stupid enough to stay and fight rather than turn tail and run. Thus clearing a path for Knight, John, Pac, Recker, Dunn, and Serpent, who also vaulted into the clearing.

    Ducking their heads low, all six of the soldiers lagging behind focused on one thing, and one thing only; running. Beneath their feet, the Earth shook back and forth, causing them to stumble a bit, but nevertheless they continued their course.

    Above them, the familiar thumping of a helicopter's rotors slicing the air deafened them further than the groaning of the Skyscraper behind them. Shooting off in the direction of Irish and the other, it released it's rope ladder, to which Irish scaled it.

    Pac, Dunn, and Recker, all way faster than John, Knight, and Serpent, spent no time climbing into the Little Bird. Again, the familiar sound fluttered overhead, as another helicopter sped over head.

    " Spectre, this is Raven-2. I'm in charge of getting your squad outta here. Climb aboard. "

    "Do you not see the Skyscraper falling behind us, get clear?!" Serpent hissed into his mic.

    "Sorry Sergeant, you're breaking up. Something's causing interferen-" before the pilot could finish his sentence, a rogue piece of concrete smashed it's tail rotor.

    Losing it's gyro-stabilizer, the Little Bird was free to spin as it saw fit, smashing into the Earth behind Knight, Serpent, and Rockefeller. John continued running, but Knight and Serpent were tripped up. Flipping onto their backs, the two continued to crawl away, the Helicopter sliding forward, it's sharp rotors biting at their boots.

    Knight had been lucky, the rotors disintegrated before they even touched his legs. But a shower of something wet and a screech of pain was all the hint he needed to know Luke hadn't been so lucky. Glancing over, his squad leader moaned in pain, his right foot sent flying hundreds of meters to the east.

    Wiping the Leader's blood off of his forehead, he looked up at the Skyscraper, which finally finished it's tumble, the majority of it making dust out of the Motel they had previously had been in. Thankfully for Knight, the roof landed several feet away, but he still had reason to fear. A wave of debris, mostly sand and finely pulverized concrete, rolled their way. Putting his hands in front of him to protect his eyes, he held his breath as the torrent over took him.

    Then everything went dark.


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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on December 11th 2013, 2:42 am

    Chapter 3: Spectre's Day.

    "Siz İrana gəlib və PLR ilə qarışmaq olar? Çirkli donuz, çirkli Amerika it!"
    a man spoke in Azerbaijani.

    You think you can come to Iran, and meddle with the PLR? Filthy pig, filthy American dog!

    A gunshot was all that Lance heard, followed by the moans of pain from Luke.

    "Siz Tehrana dözülməz viran səbəb və bu gün bir çox ev və həyatını məhv etdik. Siz tez ölüm layiq deyil. Siz Death tezliklə sizə gətirəcək qaranlıq ərzində yüngül tapa bilərsiniz." the same man replied.

    You have caused unbearable devastation to Tehran, and you have destroyed many homes and lives today. You do not deserve a quick death. May you find the light within the darkness that Death will soon bring you.

    With that, Lance could only hear the sound of footsteps moving away from their position. He didn't bother opening his eyes, however, knowing that he was still covered by mixed concrete, sand, and other such debris. He was, however, lucky that his arm stuck out above his burial, as a hand gingerly grabbed onto it.

    "I know you're down there Lancelot. King Arthur's coming to get you man!" John said, a slight jolt in Lance's arm indicating John was motioning for someone. "Tombstone thinks we're all dead, left before they even checked. Sometimes they can be real dicks. Jenner, Enrique, help me dig Lance out. He's probably only got another few seconds of air!"

    Above him, he felt a lot of weight lifted off of his chest, while a pair of hands dug the sand and pulverized concrete off of his face. Gasping for air, Lance's head shot up, resulting in pain reverberating all the way through his person.

    "Not that I'm ungrateful, but Squad Leader's shot, and his leg got chopped off!" Lance barked. "Deal with him first!"

    With most of that which pinned him off of him, Lance slowly inched his way out of his premature grave. With John and Enrique offering him both of their shoulders. They hobbled over towards Luke, who clutched his chest, blood pouring out of his severed leg and the hole in his chest.

    "Well, this sucks." Luke chuckled. "And I was only a month away from retirement. Helluva Christmas present for the kids and the missus."

    "Stop talking like that." Lance said, gesturing John and Enrique to let him walk on his own, albeit slowly. "You're gonna be fine. Jenner, do what you do best."

    "I'm sorry Lance, he's lost too much blood already. The only thing now is to put him out of his misery."

    "You would give up on the Squad Leader, fresh meat?!" Lance growled. "

    "No, he's right Knight." Serpent coughed, a small mist of blood staining his grieves. "I'm too far gone."

    Shakily reaching down onto his belt, Luke produced the two symbols of Leadership, his .44 Magnum, and his Machete, both handed down to him from the previous squad leader. Handing them to Lance, the Sergeant shook his head.

    "This isn't supposed to happen, Boot camp buddies for life?" Lance growled, refusing the gesture.

    "We still are, I'm just not going to be here physically. Like our name sake, I'll be the Spectre of justice, watching over all of you, keeping Spectre well protected." Luke coughed once more. "Please, I want to die knowing you will accept the responsibility, without any bitter aftertaste."

    Lance nodded, defeated, placing his hand on the handle of the Machete, and the Magnum. Using his left hand, he collected Luke's dog tags, wrapping his hand around his long time friends. Holding it there for as long as he could, Lance nearly was thrown over the edge when his friend's hand slacked, letting go.

    Standing, Lance holstered the .44 Magnum on his belt, leaving his P226 on his friend's belt. Sheathing the machete in his regular sheath, he placed his normal bayonet in his boot.

    "Either of you guys kill that son of a bitch that shot him." Lance replied, unwavering anger in his voice.

    "No, Squad Leader." Enrique replied shyly. "But that's our HPT."

    "I speak a little Ajerbaijani." Jenner stated. "He mentioned they were going to the Caspian Sea."

    "That's where Valkyrie and Valor are stationed." John said.

    "That son of a bitch knows it was our ships that fired those missiles." Lance said. "U.S.S Valor. This is Lancelot of Spectre. Serpent is K.I.A. and the HPT is headed your way."

    There was no response, minus the occasional crackle from the communique. Lance growled in disgust, the signal was probably blocked from the Skyscraper's debris. They would have to stop the HPT before he got to the sea.

    "I got a feeling we're going to be chasing after these guys." John replied unsteadily.

    "You're damn right we are Rockefeller." Knight clenched his fists. "He killed Luke, and not only do we have a score to settle, it was our objective anyways, and I won't be satisfied until I've splashed his brain against a fuckin' wall."

    "Hooah. We figured you might say something like that. One RHIB boat was left on the river after the HTP left. We dispatched it's pilots and figured we could use it as a mean of extraction, but this fits the bill too."

    "Good work." Knight nodded. "Enrique, you're piloting the boat, John and Jenner, you guys are supportive fire. I take the fifty."

    Without further hesitation, the remainder of Spectre squad clambering into the RHIB at the edge of the river, Enrique speeding off in the direction of the HPT.
    ------------------------------------------

    The boat bounced along the water, causing Jenner's face to become as green as peat moss. Warranting a joke from Rockefeller, who chuckled.

    "Look Jenner, I know you're mad about Luke, we all are. That's no reason to look like the god-damn hulk, man."

    "I haven't earned my legs yet man." Jenner stifled his response, holding back the chuke. "I get sea-hurp-sick."

    "Well, if you're gonna do that. Aim for the assholes responsible for this." Enrique growled.

    "I got attack boats, dead ahead!" Knight growled, as they entered the open sea.

    Three boats skid across the water, all rushing towards the Valkyrie and the Valor. If Spectre didn't act fast, the twin Destroyers would be blown to smithereens.

    "Two bogey's are loaded with C-4, they're in for a suicide run!" John called out.

    "Garrison, Douglas, this is Spectre Leader Knight. Serpent is KIA and you have three attack boats working their way towards the Valor and Valkyrie. Two of them have ordinance on board!"

    "I'm sorry for your loss, Sergeant. Now isn't really the time, but I assume you've been handed the right to command Spectre?" Douglas replied. "It is only fitting that I put your name in for a promotion as well, is the HTP dead?"

    "Negative sir! We believe he is is the attack boat with no ordinance on board!" Knight replied.

    "We'll hold off fire for now, I'll relay the message to Tombstone and Garrison. Sink those sons of bitches! Douglas out."

    Turning his fifty caliber turret towards the nearest attack boat, Lance focused on the fuel tanks beside the C-4. Opening fire, the turret roared to live as the belt fed itself into the weapon, round after round showering the fuel canister. One round sparked on the metal drum, as the fumes inside exploded, taking the C-4 and the boat itself to the briny deep.

    "Great, there goes the element of surprise!" Enrique growled. "Hold on, TOW missiles incoming! Brace!"

    Enrique lowered his head, as the other members of Spectre did as well, the laser guided missile shooting over their heads. Knight turned his turret around, opening up on the explosive, as it turned back around towards them. One of the rounds pierced the rocket, blowing it prematurely.

    Turning back towards the other attack boat, Lance opened up on their fuel supply, as the third and final attack boat opened up fire on them. Same as before, one of his rounds caused a spark, blowing the attack boat out of the water, before it sunk into the Caspian sea.

    Link --> Enemy infantry stood on the bow of the final ship, firing their weapons at the RHIB boat that gave chase. John and Jenner peaked over the sides, firing their own weapons in response. The HPT, crazed as he was, shoved past one of the soldiers and into the cockpit, speeding the boat towards their RHIB.

    "I got your number asshole." Lance growled. "Today, it's Spectre's day.  You got a ghost of your past asking for revenge, mother fucker!"

    Opening fire with his fifty, the other members of Spectre panicked as the bigger and easily heavier armored vehicle sped towards them. Knight could see the crazed, determined look of their HPT through the windshield of boat, and returned it right back. As if there had been some sort of divine intervention, one of his rounds left a huge gash in front of the ship, ripping open as the speed of the boat and the force of the water filled the bottom of the boat.

    Suddenly, it was the equivalent of a pole-vaulter's pole striking the ground, as the boat nose dived into the water, the buoyancy of the water was enough to fling the attack boat over their RHIB. All of Spectre watched as the PLR infantry were dumped into the ocean *of course, finished off by John and Jenner as they were falling*, Knight grinning at the look of fear in his Target's eyes as the boat landed upside down in the water.

    Opening fire a few more times into the now exposed bottom of the boat, Knight opened multiple holes into the hull, as it started to take in water. Becoming one with Davy Jone's locker, Knight was still not satisfied that the HTP was dead. Ordering Enrique to pull ahead a way, he waited for the chance of the target to surface. When the time it was humanly possible for a man to survive by holding his breath had passed, Knight lifted his new Magnum into the air, firing the last cylinder's worth into the air in both celebration, and respect for Luke's passing.

    "You're with Osama now, you slimy son of a bitch." Knight roared, flipping off the patch of ocean where the boat had sunk. "Let's report back to Valor, I've had enough of this fuckin' desert country."

    ------------------------------------------------

    Present Day

    "Damn, that's pretty rough, and my Military career hasn't been all that pretty either." Gerald shook his head. "Although it is good to know that Gunnery Sergeant Serpent hadn't died in vain."

    "Yeah, but there still hasn't been anything right with Knight since the incident. So either he told me something else than what really happened, or it just really shook him up."

    "I can't really say for sure." Gerald shrugged. "But my previous question is, do you think he'll be able to keep command of Spectre, it is coming up on the year in a couple of weeks, are you sure that won't cause problems?"

    "Well," Douglas paused.
    ------------------------------------
    Entering the barracks, Knight was unsurprised to see the young man sitting on Luke's cot, of all things. He was really thin, which was odd for a military man, especially one from the army. His skin was dark, and his hair dark as night, shorter than an inch, easily. He had brown eyes, sharp, keen, scanning across Knight himself.

    "You the fresh meat?" Knight growled, entering the barracks.

    "Nice to meet you too, dogfish."

    "Shut your god-damn mouth and wait until I give you the order to talk, pigskin!" Knight barked. "You think you Army folk are better than us Marines, well I've got news for you. You might be one hell of a sniper, but I can already tell I got your name when it comes to hand to hand. State your name and rank."

    "William Valentine, Private, Lieutenant Fishdick!"

    "Boy, you got a death wish or something?"

    "Why you callin' me 'boy' foo, you racist or something dawg?" Will growled back.

    "Yo, lay off." John barked, walking in. "That's Gunnery Sergeant Lance Knight, he's our CO here. He's not racist, but he's old fashioned Marine Corps. You're either one of us, or you're not, you understand? I don't know how things are in the Army, but us Leathernecks have some god damn respect for our Squad Leader, if you're rolling with us, I suggest you do the same."

    "Fine." Will growled. "I like you, but I sure as hell don't got to like him."

    "Good," Knight grit his teeth. "Something in common already. That was Sergeant John Rockefeller, your second in command. That fellow in the corner is Lance Corporal Enrique Ramirez, and the Jew in the corner is Corporal Jenner Son, the medic."

    "I'M A MORMON!" Jenner growled.

    "Hey man, that's cool." Will replied. "I used to be. But respect for you, didn't think Mormon's joined the military."

    "It's a long story." Jenner replied. "I'm a conscientious objector, but I shoot to protect myself, not for sport."

    "This ain't a sport, Son." Knight rubbed the bridge of his nose. "IT'S A WAR!! None of us like killing people, except maybe Enrique, he's a little fucked in the mind."

    "Look," Knight said. "Whether you like me or not, we've got a job to do. I have the final say if you remain a member of the squad or no-"

    "No-"

    "Noted." Knight growled. "Save it for when the job is done. Spectre, our means of travel for this OP is a little unconventional this time. We're taking the Skytrain-"

    "S-skytrain, sir?" Will asked, concerned.

    "Oh yeah, you still haven't earned your legs yet Private." Knight grinned evilly. "I'm sure a little tough guy like you will just LOVE it."

    ----------------------------------

    Spectre made their way to the airstrip aboard the Valor's main deck. Lance hefted the brunt of the harnesses they would require, while Enrique and Jenner lifted the air generator, John carrying the balloon.

    "So, aren't you going to tell me exactly what it is?" Will asked, still nervous.

    "Dude, he ain't going to tell you anything." John grinned menacingly. "You disrespected him, and now he's going to let you figure it out the hard way."

    "Lance! How's it going man!" a man approached Knight, who dropped the harnesses onto the ground, securing one onto himself. Tugging it once for safety, he made sure it was secure.

    "Crabapple, what's up Zach?"

    "Well, I'm the Skytrain coordinator for today. Zephyr Squad has the day off on account of the 50th anniversary. I'm surprised, isn't Spectre this ship's oldest team?" Zach replied.

    "Yes, but there is no waiting for a potential World War III. We've got to go save some irradiated Red piece of shit. That's all I'm allowed to say."

    Zach nodded, as every member but one in Spectre got their harness' on correctly.

    "Uh son, did you not get taught how to put on a Skytrain harness?" Zach asked, helping him correct his mistake.

    "No, Gunnery Sergeant Assface won't help me."

    "-And the answer becomes clear." Zach sighed. "There, tug on it. If it feels loose, you'd best hold on for dear life, son. If it's snug, you're golden."

    "Hold on?!" Will panicked, as the air generator filled a giant balloon in front of the squad, five ropes attached to it, each rope attached to a harness. "Woah wait, I'm afraid of heights! Army boys prefer their feet on the ground sir!"

    "Well son, you're with the real men now!" Zach chuckled. "Happy flights Spectre!"

    There was a loud whirring in the air, as a giant AC-130 Hercules broke through the clouds in the heavens, descending low enough for the hook at the bottom of it to latch onto the balloon. There was a certain pressure on the five soldiers, as the speed and trajectory of the C-130 Hercules lifted them off of the deck. Within mere seconds, they were hundreds of feet up and away from the Valor, literally the only thing keeping them from certain death was a rope hanging from the bottom of the AC-130.

    "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Will whined in fear, holding tightly to his harness as the wind rushed through his ears.

    "MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Knight bellowed deeply. "You chose one helluva'n OP to join Spectre son! Don't underestimate me or my squad!"

    "O-OKAY!" Will said. "When does it end?!"

    "If the Flight Master maintains a good hook, fifteen minutes." John chuckled. "If not... well, hope you brought a chute."

    "I HATE YOU ALL!" Will barked.

    "WHAT?!" Knight asked jokingly, pulling his Machete out, holding it near Will's rope. "RELEASE US ALL?!"

    "N-NO! I LOVE YOU ALL!" Will growled.

    "I'M NOT FEELING THE LOVE, WILL! MAYBE SOME FLOWERS OR CHOCOLATES?"

    "ASK ME WHEN I'M NOT THOUSANDS OF FEET UP FROM CERTAIN DEATH!"

    "YOU HEAR THIS GUY?" Knight shook his head. "DOESN'T BRING GIFTS ON THE FIRST TIME OUT, HOW RUDE?!"

    "NEW GUY?" The Flight Master asked, activating the winch, pulling them closer to the troop bay.

    "Army boy, wanted to join the Marines for a bit." Knight chuckled, climbing into the machine, helping Jenner, Enrique, and John up.

    "H-HEY! Help me up!!" Will barked.

    "Oh you didn't know?" Knight asked. "First time flyers get the FULL experience. Don't worry, we'll be in Moscow in a half hour!"

    "Boy, this one REALLY pissed you off, huh?" the Flight Master whispered.

    "Disrespectful as shit, cocky. He'll soon learn that being cocky in the Corps will lead to nothing but trouble, one way or another. Let him up in another five. I want him to learn his lesson." Knight whispered. "Hope you brought a blanket Valentine! It's supposed to be cold in Moscow!"


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    Manny
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Manny on December 19th 2013, 4:08 pm

    "RELEASE US ALL?!" Gave me a good laugh.

    I think I was right when I said stories set in modern times are your best. This is one of your better stories Smile
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    Shad0wChas3r
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on December 19th 2013, 11:35 pm

    I'm really starting to notice it too. I think the only reason why this is so true is because I can't really write about things I haven't experienced *i.e the future*. That isn't to say that I've been on the sky-train, I'd be dead before the thing even hoisted me in the air 'cause my heart would explode. I am saying though, that modern civilization is something I'm a lot more familiar with, and futuristic stuff is hard for me to grasp.

    Anyways, thanks for reading Manny! I'm really proud of how these characters are turning out, and that scene just felt like it needed to happen.



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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on January 6th 2014, 11:37 am

    Chapter 4: Massacre in Moscow (Part I of II).

    "Never- Never again." Will sighed, hands on his knees, shaking from the experience.

    "I wouldn't say that, we still need a silent way out of Russia when this is all over." Knight laughed heartily from the back of the bay. "Get yourself prepped sonny, there's a chute on the wall over there."

    Tilting his head to the right, Will glanced over to find a rack filled with backpacks. Shaking his head wearily, he looked over at Knight once more.

    "Go on." Knight growled. "Grab a chute and bring it over here."

    Shifting his eyes to John, Jenner, and Enrique, hoping for some kind of silent support, John only nodded him on, while Jenner and Enrique shook their head with discrete laughter.

    Will moped over towards the parachute rack, grabbing a pack off of the wall and securing it to his back. Shuffling back over to Knight, Knight took Will's pull cord from the chute and attached it to a line over their head.

    "ATTACH LINES!" the Flight Master roared above the engines.

    Jenner, Enrique, John, and Lance himself attached their pull cords to the line. Will continued to breath in and out in a timely fashion to reduce his nerves.

    "CHECK LINES!"

    Lance gently tugged on Will's line, making sure it was tight, but also loose enough to pull the chute when needed. After that, he and the rest of the squad checked theirs as well.

    The troop bay doors opened slowly, as the rush of the air roared over the engines. A green light appeared above them, as the Flight Master signaled them to run, one right after the other, into the dark of the storm.

    Jenner charged first, jumping out the back, a slight tug in his holster as the string pulled, his parachute thrust from the pack. Gliding away from the Hercules AC-130, he signaled back to the Flight Master, who sent Enrique, John, Will, and Lance one by one.

    Enrique deployed just find, slowly drifting to Moscow below, John right behind him. Will charged forward, closing his eyes for his own sake as he jumped. There was the slight tug, as he screamed in shock. Unlike the others, however, his chute did not take, as he was sent cascading to the earth below.

    Tumbling head over heels, he prayed for quick release. Watching it all happen, Lance unclipped his line, making a running start for the hatch, diving out the front. Leaning himself forward into a nose dive, he rocketed towards the Rookie's location. Thrusting his arms out, he lay flat, as Will glanced at him, bewildered. Grasping the Rookie's arms with his own, he pulled his chute, the force lifting them both up a few feet, before slowly drifting them back onto course.

    "You aren't taking the easy way out on this one Rook." Lance said, nonchalantly, as they continued to drift into the stormy city's center.

    "What the hell man, did you sabotage my line?!" Will roared.

    "Shut up, we don't need the Russians looking out their windows right now. We're using the storm as cover, but that doesn't mean they can't hear us." Lance growled. "-and no, I didn't sabotage your line. That happens sometimes. You're just lucky the line snapped altogether, or else you would've been fed to the rotors."

    Spectre finally made touch down, Lance and Will slightly farther than originally intended. Within a few minutes, they were once again reunited with one another.

    "Alright guys, our VIP is located somewhere in the northern end of the city, our informant says. We'd best-"

    Overhead, the incessant roar of engines filled the quite, stormy air, as they ran for the nearest alleyway. Glancing into the air for them shadows, they watched as numerous WZ-10 Helicopters flew over head.

    "What the fuck?!" John growled. "Those are Chinese Attack Helos! The Chinese deciding to invade Russia?"

    "No." Lance growled. "Agent Kovic briefed me, said that our Target is old fashioned Spetznaz that has intel on the old Paris and New York nuclear threats. He believes our friend is going to be used as a trading deal between the Russians and the Chinese. Tombstone and the Valkyrie are in the South China Sea to stop a Military Coup that could mean the difference between a war with Russia and China, versus the U.S.A. Our job is to help sabotage the Russians while they deal with the Chinese."

    "But why the hell do they need this guy?" Jenner asked. "So he tried to stop the Parisian bombing, that doesn't mean anything."

    "It means a lot. Ex-Spetznaz failing to stop a Nuclear strike in Paris, which was initiated by a Russian man in the PLR? That looks bad for Russia, which is now very pissed at America because we're playing the blame game. They tried to clean up their mess by putting him in custody, but now the Chinese are trying a Military Coup to destroy us as well, so they want in on it to prove themselves to the world again."

    "What, that they're assholes?" Enrique asked bluntly.

    "No, dumbass." Lance shook his head. "The Cold war was all a race to test and see who had the bigger guns. After that, tensions between the U.S and Russia were neutral, having decided both were pretty big power houses. But now that Russian Nukes obliterated the hell out of Paris, and almost NYC? Russia wants to prove to the world that it can be something to fear."

    "Instead of trying to appeal to the World Council that it wasn't actually them, but the PLR?"

    "That, I can't answer." Lance shook his head. "Enough chit chat anyways, we've got a job to do. Now let's do it."

    "Hooah." John replied. "Lead the way Knight."

    ----------------------------------

    The storm held steady as the squad trudged through the accumulated snow, weapons at the ready for any type of enemy forces that might cross their paths. Lance started around a corner, but quickly recoiled backwards, poking his head slightly back to get a glimpse.

    A pair of Spetznaz soldiers stood at the end of the alleyway, smoking a pair of cigarettes, chuckling about something. Lance held up his fist, ordering his troops to stop.

    "-poetomu ya govoryu svoyu podrugu , chto yest' tol'ko odno pravilo v moyem dome ; sosat' moy chlen ili umeret' , prosto."

    "-so I tell my girlfriend that there is only one rule in my house; suck my dick or die, simple as that."

    "Tonkiy. Vy deystvitel'no dolzhny otnosit'sya k Ivonn luchshe , on vsegda mozhet vernut'sya , chtoby ukusit' vas . Yesli vy ne budete ostorozhny , to posledneye utverzhdeniye deystvitel'no mozhet byt' bukval'nym." the other replied with a snort.

    "Subtle. You really should treat Yvonne better, it could always come back to bite you. If you're not careful, that last statement could actually be literal.

    "Ba," the first one shook his head. "Yesli suka znayet , chto khorosho dlya neye , ona budet sebya vesti."

    "Ba, if the bitch knows what's good for her, she'll behave."

    "Nezavisimo Yuriy. Pochemu my zdes' tak ili inache? YA zamorazhivaniya moyey zadnitsy!" the second replied with a shiver.

    "Nevermind Yuri. What are we doing out here anyways? I'm freezing my ass off!"

    "Yesli ty takoy kholodnyy, Viktor, pochemu by tebe ne poyti v eto nepodaleku." the first one replied, while the second one nodded sternly, walking out of the alley and to the house on their right.

    "If you're so cold, Viktor, why don't you go into this house next to us and 'ask' for something warm to drink. I'll keep a lookout while you're gone.

    With the other one out of the way, Knight slowly crept up to the last guy in the alleyway, pulling his machete out of it's sheath, he wrapped the blade on the man's neck, covering his target's mouth.

    "Yesli vy khotite zhit', chtoby uvidet' Ivonna snova , ya predlagayu vam sotrudnichat'." Knight hissed, dragging the Russian soldier back into the alley.

    "If you want to live long enough to see Yvonne again, I suggest you cooperate."

    "Piss off, American pig." the Russian man's voice muffled in his hands.

    Recoiling in pain, the Russian's screams were muffled by Lance's hand as his blade gently sliced into the Russian's flesh.

    "I know many ways to silently torture a man, dog. Answer my damn question; where is Dimitri Mayakovsky?!"

    "Kill me, I will not spill the location of the traitor!"

    "Suit yourself, but I'm just gonna ask your friend when he returns." Lance replied, slowly dragging the blade further, only slightly breaking the skin.

    "Please no, I beg you American. He just barely had a daughter this morning, Anatasia. Do you have any kids or family? I will tell you, just, spare his life. He does this to provide for her." Yuri sighed. "He is at Lefortovo Prison, towards the Northern part of the city! But there are troops staggered throughout the city, you'll never make it!"

    "I guess we'll take our chances then." Lance shook his head.

    "So what, now that you have my information, you're gonna kill me, right?"

    "Nope." Lance smashed the butt of his Machete into Yuri's face, knocking him out cold. "I'm a man of my word."

    Standing, he pulled his .44 Magnum out of it's holster, holding it out at the ready. Viktor turned the corner, a mug of hot coffee in his hand. Getting a glimpse of the American soldier with the pistol, he dropped the cup onto the snow, which cushioned it's fall.

    Reaching for his sidearm, Lance spoke quickly;

    "Podumayte Anastasiya, Viktor. Vy khotite, chtoby uvidet' yeye snova , ne tak li?"

    "Think of Anastasia, Viktor. You do want to see her again, don't you?"

    "Da, ya delayu . YA khochu smotret', kak ona stala chem-to v zhizni, ya ne khotel by propustit' yego dlya mira." Viktor replied. "Imenno poetomu ya dolzhen delat' svoyu rabotu."

    "Yes, I do. I want to watch her become something in life, I wouldn't want to miss it for the world." "Which is why I must do my job"

    "Damn it Viktor!" Lance growled. "You don't have to die today, not on the day of your Anastasia's birth."

    Firing a round off into Viktor's leg, Lance ran over and kicked the gun from Viktor's hand. Crouching low, he kept the Russian restrained as the rest of his squad kept their guns on him.

    "Take my advice, Viktor. A Chinese commando shot you in the leg. Then, leave the country with your family and start a new life. A war might be happening soon, and you don't want that for her, do you?" Lance asked.

    "Niet." Viktor shook his head.

    "Good, remember, you didn't see us. Or Anastasia will grow up without a dad, understood?"

    Viktor nodded, as Lance knocked him out with the butt of his pistol.

    "Wow, I was expecting some Rambo shit right there Sarge." Will replied with a chuckled.

    "I'm a man of my word, kid. I promised the first guy his life in exchange for info, and this man just became a father, I don't want to take him from his daughter, even if she doesn't know him yet."

    "So then, where to?" Jenner asked. "I'm fucking freezing out here."

    "We go to Lefortovo Prison, that's where our target is." Lance said, glancing down at Viktor. "Move out, double time! Eyes peeled!"


    Last edited by Shad0wChas3r on January 14th 2014, 11:50 am; edited 1 time in total


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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Manny on January 13th 2014, 8:45 pm

    Yep, I can confidently say modern works are your best works.

    That's not to say that you shouldn't experiment with other genres/time periods! It's just saying that, at this moment in time, you write modern stories better.
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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

    Post  Shad0wChas3r on January 14th 2014, 10:45 am

    Thanks for reading Manuel! Hopefully by the time you've read this I have finished up the first part of this chapter in the last post, so be sure to check!

    The second part will most likely be following the completion of the last one, so if you see another reply beneath this one, definitely check my last post, because it'll add more for the next post.


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    Re: 'Valor and Victory'- *Battlefield FanFiction*

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