Post by tjkernan on Dec 6, 2011 18:19:05 GMT -5
Ultimate Wild Covert Armed Tactical Strike-force (WildC.A.T.S.) #1
"One Nation Under Gods And Monsters"
TJKernan
The Diablo Islands are a string of islands ten miles off the coast of the border between Peru and Chile in the Pacific Ocean. Only a few short decades ago the islands were unknown to the civilized world, the indigenous tribes undisturbed by the trappings of technology and modern man.
The pirates came first. Smugglers on boats using the islands as a haven and stopping point between the South American mainland and Southeast Asia. They basically left the island natives alone, setting themselves up a base and same town they called Diablo Verde, at the edge of the jungle.
Then some ambitious smugglers made a discovery while investigating further into the jungle. A plant they called Heaven's Fire. The bright red leaves of the plant secreted a powerful hallucinogenic. Dried and powdered, the drug found started building a following. That brought more smugglers, as well as members of the Vasquez Drug Cartel, eager to take control of the burgeoning drug business.
Manuel Vasquez , cousin of Vasquez Crime Family kingpin Lorenz Vasquez led a group of armed thugs into the jungle to a temple the natives considered sacred. After killing a dozen guards, Manuel and thirty heavily armed soldiers entered the temple. Three days later, Manuel emerged. Only Manuel, and he was changed-his skin pale and grey, pulled tight over the bones, his eyes sunken and all black in color. His declared his name was now Guedhe the Undying.
Within a week Guedhe had complete control of Diablo Verde, uniting the smugglers, pirates, and drug-runners into his own personal army, and enslaving the native populace, ruling with his brutal, iron fist, any dissenters meeting a gruesome and bloody end.
----
Six smugglers are standing around the dock outside one of the boats, waiting for their boat to refuel. All are carrying state-of-the art Israeli Tavor assault rifles, while passing around a bottle of tequila, and sharing a conversation about a the tacuna, a pork dish they are going to eat when they reach their current destination in the Tacna Region of Peru.
The men are so engrossed in their drinking and conversation they don't notice the man walking along the dock towards them until he is within ten feet of them. Finally, one of the men turn notices the newcomer and turns his attention.
<Who the frack are...>
With lightning-fast, deft reflexes the man descends upon the pack of smugglers. Grabbing the bottle from the nearest man's hand, he swings it around, crashing it into the skull of the one standing next to him. He sweeps his leg around, kicking one man in the back of the head, while grabbing one of the assault rifles from another man's hand. Using the rifle as a blunt crusher, along with his own agile fighting skills, all six of the men are down in less than three minutes. Two have fallen into the water, unconscious, and are in the process of drowning. The man goes to each of the remaining four, who lie beaten or unconscious on the dock, and administers a fatal blow to each.
[Deathwing here. The boat dock has been secured. You can now commence with the next portion of the plan...]
----
Rojo Toro is a popular dive bar frequented by the smugglers and criminals frequenting Diablo Verde. located a block away from the docks, the establishment is alive tonight with flowing drinks and obnoxious criminals, reveling in their drinking and their debauchery.
Even over the loud music and the loud, drunken voices, the sounds of the explosions can be heard. Men begin to pour out into the streets.
<the ships...the ships...>
Armed men spilled out into the streets, their attention towards the docks. Six ships were currently in the port. What was left of four were on flaming on the water. A fifth exploded as the the men watched.
"The ships are the least, and the last of your worries, scum."
The attention of the men turned from the flames to the speaker. A man with white hair hovering in the sky above them. He was holding onto the power lines strung above the building.
Several of the men on the ground started to raise their firearms, but never had a chance to squeeze off a round. The man in the sky channeled the electricity from the power line, firing an arc of energy, that swept through the men in front of the building, flash frying every one.
[This is Triumph. I am going into the bar now to remove the innocents and finish off the remaining scum...]
----
Not long after asserting his control, Guedhe retreated back into the temple of his origin, issuing his orders through one of his three officers, all super-power mercenaries. Tolteca leads a cadre of warrior women who guard the temple and relay Guedhe's orders to the others. Agni, a former pirate captain and assassin, runs the docks and initiates negotiations with the smugglers and pirates who dock in and out of the port, and the Greek mercenary Antiphon is a general enforcer and sees to the local militia and makes sure the local populace is kept in check.
Agni, and a dozen of his well-armed guards are stationed in their small military camp when the explosions at the dock begin. Mysteriously unable to communicate with their satellite phones or anything electronic (all frequencies seem to be filled with nothing but static), Agni and his men start walking towards the jeeps, automatic weapons in hand, ready to dispense final justice to whomever is causing the chaos on the waterfront.
Some of the men are in the jeeps, others preparing their weapons for battle, when they see her. A woman standing in the darkness by herself. Tall, curvy, and beautiful, her hair bright red, her skin white as chalk. The outfit she is wearing is cut low in some places, high in others, leaving very little to the imagination, and showing off an amazing body.
The men all stop in their tracks.
<Something is not right here, raise your weapons.> declares Agni , unimpressed by the newcomer, unlike many of his subordinates. She doesn't not fit here, in the outskirts of the jungle, on an island in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, smoke billowed up behind her from the area of the docks, and several more explosions rattle the trees.
Suddenly, the woman is not alone. Two more people appear beside her. On her left, a tall man in a long, black duster, with a cigarette in his mouth and two pistols in his hands. On the right, another man, his skin white as the girl.
The three are just standing there, as the man with the cigarette in his mouth takes a large puff.
<Who are you? Why are you here?> asks Agni as he motions for the men in the nearby jeep to turn their fifty caliber mountain machine gun towards the newcomers.
Suddenly, before anybody can continue, a whoosh of air catches Agni's attention from the side. The smell of expensive cologne wafts through his nose.
Antiphon is now standing beside Agni.
<Do you know what is going on here?> asks Agni, never turning his eyes from the three newcomers, who continue to just stand there.
<Indeed,> says Antiphon, nodding, his Spanish perfect, in stark contrast to Agni's broken and somewhat limited grasp, of the language, <Seventeen minutes ago, these three and two entered Diablo Verde and systematically eliminated all the pirates, smugglers, and assorted thugs currently on the island. The only ones remaining, it seems, are this little group of personal guards here...>
Agni's jaw dropped a little, <Seventeen minutes? How? There were nearly two hundred men on the island...>
<Well it seems...> was all Antiphon got uttered before he was suddenly off, moving at super-speed. In less than a minute. The two men on jeep prepping the machine gun were dead, the necks snapped, Antiphon was once again standing right beside Agni, <they had a man of the inside who knew this place very well.>
Agni turned to look at Antiphon but he was off again, swiping weapons from the hands of nearby men, and throwing them into a pile between Agni and the newcomers.
<Traitor...> was the only world Agni uttered. He lifted his hands, intent on lighting the entire area up in a giant ball of fire. Instead. Nothing came from his fingertips. His power wouldn't work.
"I am sorry about that darling," says the white-skinned woman, a big, sultry smile across her face, "but you must have oxygen to start a fire, and I am afraid I have just taken all of the air out from around you."
Agni began to choke. He couldn't breath. All the oxygen being sucked out from his lungs.
Gagging, and gasping, Agni turns to Antiphon, who is standing beside him once again. One of the jeeps attempts to start, the driver and men inside intent on escaping. The man in the duster, Manchester Black, raises his pistol, and with uncanny precision, places several bullets through the front window, killing the driver. The men still standing there, seeing themselves disarmed, and their boss choking from an invisible attacker, start to run in all different directions, hoping to escape.
Antiphon turns to Agni, who has now gone to his knees, his hands grasping at his throat. In seconds, Agni's head is turned to the side awkwardly.
The remaining men, most of them running for their lives, soon found themselves victim's of Breathtaker's air-stealing power, or a bullet from the pistols of Manchester Black, or a snapped neck or spine from the hands of Antiphon. Minutes later, not one remained alive.
The Key, the white-skinned, white-haired male, who had yet to lift a finger, looked around in disgust, "Well, Manchester, I have to say, this whole plan was very efficient. 23 minutes are the island is smuggler, pirate, and mostly mercenary free. However, who is going to clean up all there bodies? There are just six of us..."
Manchester took a long drag from his smoke, "We'll deal with that problem when we are done. Very good intel, by the way, my old friend Antiphon, spot on with everything."
Antiphon nodded, as he walked towards Manchester, wiping some blood from his hands, "Yes, well, anything to be done with this. Six months in this rathole, with any good women, good gambling, and good food, has driven me to the edge. When the job is finished, I want a couple of weeks in Monaco..."
Manchester threw his butt upon the ground, crushing it under his boot, "Yeah, when the job is done..."
"Indeed," says The Key, "we still have Guedhe and those Amazon cannibals to deal with."
Antiphon pulled his own cigarette from inside his jacket pocket, and a lighter, "Yes, and they are not going to be as easy as these thugs. They are much more skilled fighters, and they are at home hiding in the jungle around the temple. They are much more dangerous..."
"One Nation Under Gods And Monsters"
TJKernan
The Diablo Islands are a string of islands ten miles off the coast of the border between Peru and Chile in the Pacific Ocean. Only a few short decades ago the islands were unknown to the civilized world, the indigenous tribes undisturbed by the trappings of technology and modern man.
The pirates came first. Smugglers on boats using the islands as a haven and stopping point between the South American mainland and Southeast Asia. They basically left the island natives alone, setting themselves up a base and same town they called Diablo Verde, at the edge of the jungle.
Then some ambitious smugglers made a discovery while investigating further into the jungle. A plant they called Heaven's Fire. The bright red leaves of the plant secreted a powerful hallucinogenic. Dried and powdered, the drug found started building a following. That brought more smugglers, as well as members of the Vasquez Drug Cartel, eager to take control of the burgeoning drug business.
Manuel Vasquez , cousin of Vasquez Crime Family kingpin Lorenz Vasquez led a group of armed thugs into the jungle to a temple the natives considered sacred. After killing a dozen guards, Manuel and thirty heavily armed soldiers entered the temple. Three days later, Manuel emerged. Only Manuel, and he was changed-his skin pale and grey, pulled tight over the bones, his eyes sunken and all black in color. His declared his name was now Guedhe the Undying.
Within a week Guedhe had complete control of Diablo Verde, uniting the smugglers, pirates, and drug-runners into his own personal army, and enslaving the native populace, ruling with his brutal, iron fist, any dissenters meeting a gruesome and bloody end.
----
Six smugglers are standing around the dock outside one of the boats, waiting for their boat to refuel. All are carrying state-of-the art Israeli Tavor assault rifles, while passing around a bottle of tequila, and sharing a conversation about a the tacuna, a pork dish they are going to eat when they reach their current destination in the Tacna Region of Peru.
The men are so engrossed in their drinking and conversation they don't notice the man walking along the dock towards them until he is within ten feet of them. Finally, one of the men turn notices the newcomer and turns his attention.
<Who the frack are...>
With lightning-fast, deft reflexes the man descends upon the pack of smugglers. Grabbing the bottle from the nearest man's hand, he swings it around, crashing it into the skull of the one standing next to him. He sweeps his leg around, kicking one man in the back of the head, while grabbing one of the assault rifles from another man's hand. Using the rifle as a blunt crusher, along with his own agile fighting skills, all six of the men are down in less than three minutes. Two have fallen into the water, unconscious, and are in the process of drowning. The man goes to each of the remaining four, who lie beaten or unconscious on the dock, and administers a fatal blow to each.
[Deathwing here. The boat dock has been secured. You can now commence with the next portion of the plan...]
----
Rojo Toro is a popular dive bar frequented by the smugglers and criminals frequenting Diablo Verde. located a block away from the docks, the establishment is alive tonight with flowing drinks and obnoxious criminals, reveling in their drinking and their debauchery.
Even over the loud music and the loud, drunken voices, the sounds of the explosions can be heard. Men begin to pour out into the streets.
<the ships...the ships...>
Armed men spilled out into the streets, their attention towards the docks. Six ships were currently in the port. What was left of four were on flaming on the water. A fifth exploded as the the men watched.
"The ships are the least, and the last of your worries, scum."
The attention of the men turned from the flames to the speaker. A man with white hair hovering in the sky above them. He was holding onto the power lines strung above the building.
Several of the men on the ground started to raise their firearms, but never had a chance to squeeze off a round. The man in the sky channeled the electricity from the power line, firing an arc of energy, that swept through the men in front of the building, flash frying every one.
[This is Triumph. I am going into the bar now to remove the innocents and finish off the remaining scum...]
----
Not long after asserting his control, Guedhe retreated back into the temple of his origin, issuing his orders through one of his three officers, all super-power mercenaries. Tolteca leads a cadre of warrior women who guard the temple and relay Guedhe's orders to the others. Agni, a former pirate captain and assassin, runs the docks and initiates negotiations with the smugglers and pirates who dock in and out of the port, and the Greek mercenary Antiphon is a general enforcer and sees to the local militia and makes sure the local populace is kept in check.
Agni, and a dozen of his well-armed guards are stationed in their small military camp when the explosions at the dock begin. Mysteriously unable to communicate with their satellite phones or anything electronic (all frequencies seem to be filled with nothing but static), Agni and his men start walking towards the jeeps, automatic weapons in hand, ready to dispense final justice to whomever is causing the chaos on the waterfront.
Some of the men are in the jeeps, others preparing their weapons for battle, when they see her. A woman standing in the darkness by herself. Tall, curvy, and beautiful, her hair bright red, her skin white as chalk. The outfit she is wearing is cut low in some places, high in others, leaving very little to the imagination, and showing off an amazing body.
The men all stop in their tracks.
<Something is not right here, raise your weapons.> declares Agni , unimpressed by the newcomer, unlike many of his subordinates. She doesn't not fit here, in the outskirts of the jungle, on an island in the middle of nowhere. Worse still, smoke billowed up behind her from the area of the docks, and several more explosions rattle the trees.
Suddenly, the woman is not alone. Two more people appear beside her. On her left, a tall man in a long, black duster, with a cigarette in his mouth and two pistols in his hands. On the right, another man, his skin white as the girl.
The three are just standing there, as the man with the cigarette in his mouth takes a large puff.
<Who are you? Why are you here?> asks Agni as he motions for the men in the nearby jeep to turn their fifty caliber mountain machine gun towards the newcomers.
Suddenly, before anybody can continue, a whoosh of air catches Agni's attention from the side. The smell of expensive cologne wafts through his nose.
Antiphon is now standing beside Agni.
<Do you know what is going on here?> asks Agni, never turning his eyes from the three newcomers, who continue to just stand there.
<Indeed,> says Antiphon, nodding, his Spanish perfect, in stark contrast to Agni's broken and somewhat limited grasp, of the language, <Seventeen minutes ago, these three and two entered Diablo Verde and systematically eliminated all the pirates, smugglers, and assorted thugs currently on the island. The only ones remaining, it seems, are this little group of personal guards here...>
Agni's jaw dropped a little, <Seventeen minutes? How? There were nearly two hundred men on the island...>
<Well it seems...> was all Antiphon got uttered before he was suddenly off, moving at super-speed. In less than a minute. The two men on jeep prepping the machine gun were dead, the necks snapped, Antiphon was once again standing right beside Agni, <they had a man of the inside who knew this place very well.>
Agni turned to look at Antiphon but he was off again, swiping weapons from the hands of nearby men, and throwing them into a pile between Agni and the newcomers.
<Traitor...> was the only world Agni uttered. He lifted his hands, intent on lighting the entire area up in a giant ball of fire. Instead. Nothing came from his fingertips. His power wouldn't work.
"I am sorry about that darling," says the white-skinned woman, a big, sultry smile across her face, "but you must have oxygen to start a fire, and I am afraid I have just taken all of the air out from around you."
Agni began to choke. He couldn't breath. All the oxygen being sucked out from his lungs.
Gagging, and gasping, Agni turns to Antiphon, who is standing beside him once again. One of the jeeps attempts to start, the driver and men inside intent on escaping. The man in the duster, Manchester Black, raises his pistol, and with uncanny precision, places several bullets through the front window, killing the driver. The men still standing there, seeing themselves disarmed, and their boss choking from an invisible attacker, start to run in all different directions, hoping to escape.
Antiphon turns to Agni, who has now gone to his knees, his hands grasping at his throat. In seconds, Agni's head is turned to the side awkwardly.
The remaining men, most of them running for their lives, soon found themselves victim's of Breathtaker's air-stealing power, or a bullet from the pistols of Manchester Black, or a snapped neck or spine from the hands of Antiphon. Minutes later, not one remained alive.
The Key, the white-skinned, white-haired male, who had yet to lift a finger, looked around in disgust, "Well, Manchester, I have to say, this whole plan was very efficient. 23 minutes are the island is smuggler, pirate, and mostly mercenary free. However, who is going to clean up all there bodies? There are just six of us..."
Manchester took a long drag from his smoke, "We'll deal with that problem when we are done. Very good intel, by the way, my old friend Antiphon, spot on with everything."
Antiphon nodded, as he walked towards Manchester, wiping some blood from his hands, "Yes, well, anything to be done with this. Six months in this rathole, with any good women, good gambling, and good food, has driven me to the edge. When the job is finished, I want a couple of weeks in Monaco..."
Manchester threw his butt upon the ground, crushing it under his boot, "Yeah, when the job is done..."
"Indeed," says The Key, "we still have Guedhe and those Amazon cannibals to deal with."
Antiphon pulled his own cigarette from inside his jacket pocket, and a lighter, "Yes, and they are not going to be as easy as these thugs. They are much more skilled fighters, and they are at home hiding in the jungle around the temple. They are much more dangerous..."
