Description: Max Evory and Daniel Little are finally making their move on the Shadaloo-backed drug cartel, conducting a raid with the help of Colombian Army Junglas against a coca farm. The goal? Capture a Shadaloo adviser, and uncover the truth of the missing gold!
In the Colombian province of Cartegena, a large coca plantation with adjoining drug factory sits hidden in the leafy, sweltering jungle. Workers go about their business dressed in tan jumpsuits, while cartel thugs dressed in green outfits hang about with AK-47s and other Russian-made firearms from the middle of the 20th century, standing guard over the precious cocaine being produced here for export to other countries. There's a noted Shadaloo presence, in the form of several advisors in black uniforms that can be seen around the plantation's hardpoints.
Max Evory and his friends in the Colombian Army Junglas slowly approach from the east on higher ground, creeping through the mountains downwards into the heart of cartel territory. Max is dressed in Junglas gear, green fatigues, but he's removed the helmet in favor of a green ski-mask. He carries his pistol, while everyone else carries M-16s with various attachments or Squad Automatic Weapons. There is also a sniper in the unit, pulling his way through the brush ahead and to the right flank, peering around and listening closely for any trouble as he peers through the jungle with his scope on occasion.
The sun has just risen, and the plantation's night guardshift is departing to their barracks as the workers come out to begin another day's labor.
Daniel, for all his faults, was not a millstone in this operation.
Agent Little was attached to Agent Evory and the Junglas on behalf of Interpol. Daisy was currently dealing with administrative material; and for good reason. While Daisy was a competent fighter, Daniel... well, there was risk for Daisy to operate in the field. Not only did she have a wild card presence, there was...
Well, Daniel still remembered the Butcher well.
Before he was Agent Little, however, he was Daniel Jack, Private Eye. An ace(?) detective operating in Southtown. Daniel Jack is matching the gear as his counterpart; a Junglas uniform. In lieu of the helmet, however, the detective wear's a pair of shades. Holsters on his chest, there is still his old snubnose special. He hasn't used it in years. He didn't need to. As he keeps beside Max, he is... utterly motionless whenever people aren't moving. It wasn't invisibility, but he seemed to just fade in the background. His expression was steel, even as he stared in the careful timing of the movements of the guards. It wasn't even clear he was breathing. One of the techniques he learned through his Todoh-Ryuu Kobojutsu training.
Master Todoh WAS the master at keeping in the backgrounds, after all.
Coca is produced on the sides of mountain slopes, so the Junglas team nears the grow site first, as opposed to the factory in the lower part of the facility. As the pointman stops, there's a faint whisper over their radios, before Max halts and narrows his eyes, raising his hand to Daniel and looking to the nearby lieutenant leading the platoon. The lieutenant nods and makes a circular wave, before the soldiers fan out and approach the compound in a wide arc, staying low to the ground. The sniper, meanwhile, has a vantage point over the entire facility, setting up his rifle and scanning about.
The soldiers end up laying on their bellies overlooking the cartel hideout, peering down into it, hidden in the brush. Max licks his lips as he feels the tension of the assault build up, a dozen or so sets of eyes watching the workers in tan jumpsuits begin harvesting coca, as soldiers in olive fatigues watch over them, some of them smoking. The lieutenant pauses there, peering through binoculars and holding a walkie talkie in his left hand. Max looks to Daniel, nodding at him silently as he flips the safety off his Walther.
The officer lowers his binoculars and whispers into his walkie talkie. A moment later, there's a crack that echoes throughout the jungle, a cartel guard on a tower between the plants and the barracks falling to the ground below as he's shot by the sniper.
The Junglas soldiers rise from their positions in pairs and begin descending, one soldier watching as the other moves downwards ten feet, then a pause and switch, leapfrogging in. There's a sudden burst of SAW fire to the left flank, bullets flying through the jungle at the alerted guards. Alarm klaxons can be heard throughout the plantation as Max rises to his feet and gestures at Daniel to follow him, Max creeping down into the coca plants with his pistol pointed ahead of him.
Daniel's nerves were steel now.
This was a mission. There were rules, there were goals. He was unbreakable now as he waited for the alpha strike. As Max looks towards Daniel, he doesn't turn. He was focused now. The click as the safety goes off the walther does narrow his eyes a bit. He wouldn't need his gun, not yet. He would need it if he needed to intimidate someone. But for self-defense? Daniel Jack was the weapon. The crack comes.
And the assault begins.
Daniel Jack moves like a tiger as Max motions for him. His concealment breaks, and he seems to surge into shape. The soldiers would be the vanguard, it was hard to ignore soldiers. But Max and Daniel? They needed to assure survivors. Prisoners. Daniel moves in careful timing with his partner on this. But his attention wasn't ahead; it was around them. A wayward guard, an observent sentry. Daniel was keeping the overwatch as he moved forward. His arms tremble. Not from fear, not from adrenaline.
But from the power he was gradually building.
Max drops to a knee as he gets out ahead of Daniel, and holds his gun before him with both hands. A terrified worker goes running out near him, Max not taking the shot, as it's a civilian. He's definitely got training in this sort of thing. Then, as a guard steps out with an assault rifle pointed at Daniel, he takes a shot, dropping him. He pauses here, looking left and right down a trail through the leafy coca plants, before he steps out of cover and crosses the trail, into the next bushel of plants.
The soldiers sweep in, the guards falling back as the workers scatter in all directions. A cartel thug is shot here and there as he stands instead of falling back to a building, but they maintain their strength. There's a rumble of a machine gun overhead from another tower, raking bullets across the coca plants, before another sniper rifle crack kills the guard operating it.
The civilian rolls in.
Daniel Jack looks across at him briefly, reading him. Like Max, he doesn't take him down. That's something gained from experience more than training; if the civilian stumbled into Daniel, the poor guy might have ended up slammed right on his back before Agent Little would move forward. As the guard emerges, Agent Little keys in on the gun.
And a flash of energy comes to his fingertips.
Lunging to the flank, away from Max's line of sight, the detective surges with orange energy over his body. Sweeping his arms, he seems ready to do... SOMETHING. But sometimes, natural talent doesn't beat quick reflexes and German engineering. The guard is dropped, and Daniel continues the motions, the lights dying down with the action. "Nice shot." The detective states firmly. The chaos of the assault was building, but as Daniel Jack slips through into the foliage of the coca after Max, he wasn't concerned. Unless Shadaloo had some heavy artillery?
This operation was going cleanly.
The cartel seems to be falling back to the cocaine factory, soldiers from the barracks rushing around it to defend it, as guards climb into the towers with machine gun mounts. There are bunkers around the small, squat building hidden by camoflague netting, with gunfire flashing from inside. The Colombian Junglas assault pauses to consolidate and reload, the two SAWs with the squad positioning themselves at either flank and setting up.
Max drops to a knee again, this time at the edge of the coca plants, staring out over a wide dusty area between the cultivation site and the hardened factory. He waits for Daniel to get alongside him, peering out at the fortified position. "Bloody Hell," he says to Daniel as he looks at the defenses arrayed against them. Nearby, the lieutenant can be heard shouting into his walkie talkie, and in the distance the flutter of helicopter blades can be heard.
As Daniel Jack pulls up to the edge of the crops alongside Max. He keeps low with his partner. But he studies, analyzes the field before them. It was a long sprint to the warehouse. They were stuck here, at least for a moment. Looks like capturing people non-lethally was going to be a problem now. With enough AGMs, they could crack any defense, even if they had some SAM or even just a stinger. But they had to capture prisoners. They had to get answers. This required... his partner's genius, on these kinds of things.
"If we could get inside, we could rip apart their fortifications."
The detective seems to be mulling outloud. "If we can get them to focus inward instead of just outward, that should make cracking the defenses like cracking a shell. We can't make it anywhere near the factory unless we get everyone with firearms focused on the Junglas. And once we're in... we'll, we're professionals." As the whirr of helicopter reaches his ears, he glances up. "You call the shots, Agent Evory."
"Are gonna wait until it gets cleaned up?"
"Or are we gonna do some cleaning ourselves?"
Evory looks sidelong at Daniel, listening as the Junglas get prepared to assault the center of the compound. His face hidden by the ski-mask, he looks back and forth, before he slowly moves into a sprinter's position. "I like the way you think, Little," comes a faint acknowledgement. "We go in when the helicopter comes."
An Apache with Colombian markings swoops overhead, lambasting the factory and guard towers with missiles and vulcan fire. As the towers go up flames and bunkers explode, there's SAW fire from the Junglas at either end of the Army line. Max sprints out of cover, gun in hand, moving as fast as he can as he dashes across the dirt clearing towards one of the bunkers. Bullets fly sporadically at him from the beseiged cocaine factory, as he makes a beeline for one of the bunkers that hasn't been destroyed yet. As he gets close enough, he skids to a halt with his left hand on the ground and his knees bent, before he launches himself upwards, flying through the air with his black boots cycling in the air while he rockets towards the bunker's roof. The sniper picks off a soldier nearby that's shooting at him, the man dropping his gun and falling to the ground clutching his chest.
Then it was time to go.
Looking towards the bunkers, the roar of the helicopter comes, and bringing with it death. As death comes, Daniel and Max go. Daniel's ground speed is a little lacking compared to Max. Blame the old age, and his martial training focusing on more steady movements than sprinting movements. Eventually, bullets pepper around his Where his partner was going... and the puffs of dust on the ground start tracking towards the slower, older target. Daniel sighs as he picks up spend for a desperate sprint. One of the puffs comes close to his boot... and suddenly, a tear breaks right under the knee.
The detective grits his teeth as a pain shoots up his leg.
As Max launches up, Daniel follows with an earlier, longer, and clumsier leap. Instead of legs flying, the Agent of Interpol goes for the roll, tumbling up on the roof. His leg was bleeding, but not broken; a glancing hit. The detective grunts as he forces himself up to a stand.
"Getting too old for this shit." Daniel growls.
Max lands on the bunker roof with a grunt, falling into a crouch and duck walking for a couple steps before he comes to a halt. As Daniel lands beside him, he looks at the wound. "Your idea, not mine," Evory retorts, before he rises and hops down from the bunker, the helicopter roaring nearby as it begins a second pass. Max hurriedly motions at Daniel to follow him lest he be the victim of friendly fire, as the British agent shoulder slams the door to the factory down and points his gun upwards and around, before training it forwards.
He did have a point there.
Daniel Jack was not slowed down by the injury. He SHOULD have been, but he's used to this kind of stuff. A graze was just pain, and Daniel had long since move past that. Dropping off the bunker, he hits the dirt with both legs. Ignoring the sharp stab of pain on impact, he picks up the pace. He wasn't even limping as Max blows open the door with a slam, and Daniel doesn't hesitate to follow in after.
They were in.
Daniel Jack moves to Max's flank now, slightly forward. One hand was forward, the other back, as he shifts into the defensive stance of Todoh-Ryuu Kobojutsu. They weren't in the open now. Well, as open. He had to consider close quarter methods, especially now that his only ranged support was Max in here. He carefully scans the interior of the factory. In turn, if anybody made a move towards Max?
Daniel would be there to resolve that distraction.
Max advances into the factory as explosions roar behind them, the bunker they just crossed over exploding in a fireball. There's distant shouts as the Junglas begin their assault, advancing forward towards the factory against the combined might of this cartel compound. Max looks to Daniel, nodding once, before he steps around a corner and sweeps his gun around, taking fire. He quickly steps around and pulls his gun to point upwards, pressing his back up against the wall as assault rifle rounds flying past. Meanwhile, there's shouts in Spanish from above Max and Daniel, as a Shadaloo advisor leads men towards them on the catwalks.
As the explosion rocks outside, Daniel Jack kept alert of the area, analyzing and studying as Max turns the corner. He peeks around a second, before pulling back to see if any more were coming up to flank. Up on the catwalks, he eyes the man on the catwalk... and the men on the catwalk. "There's our man." The detective grunts, keeping cover. He scans the factory floor, identifying various routes towards to move. Daniel Jack sweeps his arms around, as orange energy cascades over his limbs. "And we're getting cornered. We gotta split, or we are gonna get picked off."
As the spray of rifle rounds dies down for a moment, Daniel Jack bolts. His stance was broken, as his leg was still bleeding. Charging across, he breaks into a tumble, rolling behind a stack of wrapped packages. Concealment wasn't cover, and he had to keep moving... before the catwalk troopers corner him. He needed Max to do something, before he could make his next move.
He was heading towards the stairway up to the catwalks.
Max moves into action as Daniel gives the signal, dropping down and scooping up a vacuum sealed kilogram of pure, uncut cocaine, freshly processed, from a nearby crate. As Daniel goes charging out, Max lobs the brick of narcotics up into the air with his left hand, sending it arcing upwards towards the troopers on the catwalk. He then smoothly steps out from cover and slaps his left hand on his right to brace his gun, and fires off a single shot as he points upwards.
The bullet bursts right through the flying kilogram of cocaine, causing a bright white powder explosion above them, the powerful drug exploding in the faces of the troopers on the catwalk. Coughs and grunts follow, along with a few random gunshots and shouts of rage. Max then sweeps his gun around as he sinks to a knee, pointing upwards and watching Daniel's rear area in case anyone tries sneaking up on him as he rises to the catwalks.
Once the cloud comes, so does Daniel.
Max does a fantastic job giving Daniel the concealment he needs. The Agent of Interpol immediately moves. While the grunts were still recovering, the 'clang clang clang' of boots rushing up the stairs come out. Daniel was telegraphing it now, there was no way around it. But the important thing was that he was on the catwalk. Daniel Jack had trouble attacking up. But on level ground?
The were done for.
Clang, Clang, Clang. The boot steps were running along the catwalk now, faster and faster, approaching the dimming cloud. Gunshots come out in his direction, and the detective pivots, moving gracefully. Daniel Jack throws himself into the last remains of the cloud... and hopefully, into close quarters. Once he got into close quarters with the first batch of goons, then he would be in control, as long as nobody came from behind from the same stairs... or shot up at him. But there weren't goons on the ground.
Were there goons on the ground?
Max squeezes off a shot at a cartel thug climbing the stairs behind Daniel, the minion's rifle shooting off at the ceiling as he squeezes the trigger and falls backwards. Max moves along towards the stairway, sweeping left and right and up to constantly view potential arteries of assault, before he reaches the catwalk. He turns around to view Daniel's progress, before he quickly begins climbing up into the catwalks, to overlook the various machines and products in sundry states inside the complex. The entire building rocks as an explosion goes off nearby, the Junglas breaching the facility.
With Max picking off the goon attempting to come in from the rear, the detective was... efficient. Catching the first of them with a one-two combination of a palm strike into a hand chop, he was quickly seized, disarmed, and hurled over the catwalk. The second had also fallen over, face up on the ground, still burning slightly from energy, with two deep lacerations on his chest, and his broken rifle around him. The third, fourth, and fifth were each still on the catwalk; the third subdued non-lethally with a dislocated arm, wrist, shoulder, and his face bloodied on the catwalk railing. The fourth? Also fortunate, grabbing on to the catwalk with both hands, dangling over the edge, struggling. The fifth? Peppered with bullets, desperately doing what they could to escape, even if it meant accidentally shooting his own men.
He nearly tried to run away.
With the interior breached, the advisor had nowhere to run to anyways. It was Daniel, or death. He didn't make it far. Agent Little had him in a Nikyo Pin, the advisor facedown on the catwalk ground. The detective was clutching him by the wrist, with his fist driven hard into the man's side. A non-lethal pin, the least lethal of what happened to the other men. It wasn't very forceful looking; it even looked like the advisor was cooperating. And he might be. If he starts trying to fight back?
He would dislocate every joint in the limb.
The Shadaloo soldier stops fighting, and wheezes, his mind rolling with the cocaine exposure and the pain from getting taken down by Daniel. Max approaches behind Daniel, gun down, and comments, "Good show, Little." As gunfire bursts sporadically back and forth behind them, Max reaches to his belt, pulling out a black rubber zip-tie, and offering it to Daniel. "Better bag our catch."
The factory slowly comes to rest, with shouts of surrender. Several remaining soldiers slip into the jungle in an attempt to escape, along with the other Shadaloo minions. There's a decent number of soldiers captured, mostly standard thugs, plus Daniel and Max's capture. Max nods faintly, turning about and looking over the factory. Not a bad operation. Not at all.
Bagged, and tagged.
Daniel himself was pretty badly exposed to the dust. His heart was racing, his mind a blur. But his resolve kept him together, kept him on his goal. As Max comes up, with the zip-tie cuffs, Daniel snaps it up, and latches it on. Zip-Ties. Just like the old days.
"Just following your lead, Agent Evory."
A clean capture. No obvious casualities, with a rout of the enemy. Oh, there would be a counter-attack. Something would come. But for now? They had a shadaloo operative. And they would be getting answers. Daniel Jack lifts the man upright, once he is properly subdued.
It was a good day for justice.
Log created on 14:42:38 12/31/2015 by Daniel, and last modified on 19:07:49 12/31/2015.