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Out of Phase by BlackValkyire
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Out of Phase-Chapter 1
Date: 30 November 2003, 1:16 AM
The Chief knew something was very wrong as he sat up and opened his eyes. The last thing he rememberd was leaping out of the way of a flying plasma rifle, he had killed an elite with a frag grenade, and the detonation had set off the explosives the covenant warrior had, launching the plasma rifle. It had struck him square in the helmet, his shileds down from a prolonged gunfight, and toppled him over, blacking out for a second. Now, he was pulling himself to his feet inside some kind of strange cave...when last he had been in a long, tall hallway, wiping snow off his visor just as the elite came at him. Now, he was in a cave...and wasn't wearing his armor. Something was VERY wrong indeed.
Another thing he noticed was that his hands and ankles were bound by thick ropes, and he was gagged. To his right, a line of tied up people were sitting against the wall, all of them unconcious. Whatever this was, it was a hostage situation of some kind...people didn't just tie themselves up and sit in a cave for fun. The chief decided to leave the "what the fuck is going on here" questions till later. First, he needed mobility. Using his giant strength, he pushed against the thick ropes. As thick as they were they didn't quite tear...but they stretched enough for him to easily slide his hands free and undo his ankles. Next, he needed a weapon. He unwound the rope that had bound his ankles, and held onto it. It wasn't much, but he might be able to strangle someone quietly with it. From the way the people were breathing, they looked to have been nerve gassed with something...all the training John thought he would never put to use came flooding back as he started to walk quietly towards a single wood door...something he had never even imagined before.
Gently, he pulled it open just enough to see inside...it was just another stretch of cave...and finally, his vision went back to normal, and he saw things how they really were. He was in some kind of building, with long, tall, wide hallways...apparently designed for humans to walk through. All his senses kicked back in, and he heard sirens outside, and shouting. A large crowd was outside as well, he could feel the constant vibrations from so many people moving as one. Silently, John slid into the hallway, seeming to glide across the floor, his sharpshooter eyes constantly searching for a target, a threat of anykind. John had gotten to the other end of the hallway, and thought that he was going to be fine, when someone came out of door marked "restrooms". John spun as he heard the footsteps, his eyes scanning the person. A male, face covered with some kind of cloth mask, wearing long pants and heavy boots...and most importantly, armed with an automatic weapon. The man's eyes widened, and John lashed out. A piston like fist crashed into the man's jaw, and dropped him like a stone through water. John caught his body, and lowered him gently to the floor. His mind searched long and hard for what to call this man, and when he finally got it, he almost grunted it out. "Terrorist".
He policed the man's weapon, a true antique weapon...John wanted to whistle at the sight of an AK-74 assualt rifle.
He remembered his fascination for old earth weaponry, and had done extensive study and a report for his lessons with the AI. Quickly, John assessed the weapon. The magazine was full, and the gun was in perfect working order. Attached at the end was a small knife, what John remembered as a bayonet. His instinct told him to disarm the terrorists, just like a training excercise he had undergone. He set the firing mode selector to single shot, and cracked the door, peeking through. Four men, nervous looking, with obviously elevated adrenaliene levels. Their eyes were wide, and they looked like they were about to attack each other. One said something in tounge John had never heard before...it wasn't human...and it wasn't any form of covenant...and no human could speak the language of the flood, if there was one at all. The word terrorist stuck in his mind again and John decided to make his move. Silently, he opened the door just enough to get the barrel of the weapon in. Taking quick aim, he squeezed the trigger once.
The 5.56mm round hit his target square in the back of the head, blowing his brains out. It took mere seconds for John to fire twice more, scoring two more headshots before the last man could even turn around. John fired again, and the fourth and final round punched into the man's left eye, the bullet preforated his skull, blew his brains out, and exited through the back of his head. They dropped, and John blurred into motion. Even without his all powerful MJOLINR armor, he was still impossibly fast for where ever and when ever he was. Quickly, he grabbed the four AK's that the terrorist men had dropped, and ejected the magazines. It was then he realized he was half naked, wearing only the sensory body suit required to operate his armor. John quickly examined the men, and found one had a jacket that would fit him. He left it open but pulled it on, stuffing the clips into a large pocket. John checked the men for other weapons, found none, and was about to head down another door, when one was kicked open, another terrorist looking man already taking aim with his weapon...a sumbmachine gun of some kind. The man squeezed the trigger, and what John guessed was an Uzi sprayed lead into the room. He dove, hitting the floor, still facing the man...who suddenly had a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.
John hadn't even realized he'd fired the weapon, and stood up slowly. Someone's voice could be heard, yelling down the hall. John didn't recognize the language, but decided to take action. He switched clips, and set his weapon to full auto. He ran down the hallway, and saw five men, all armed with uzi's or AK's, walking towards him. Before they could even blink, the first man went down with three shots in his chest, one of them punching into another man who was directly behind him. John dropped into a crouch as someone got a shot off, the bullet zipping over his head as he mashed the trigger down. A hail of bullets tore into someone's stomach, and punched through his back to strike another's sternum. The last man there had taken good aim now, and was about to fire, but John dove sideways, blindfiring the gun. All but one bullet missed, and it struck the target square in the knee. He screamed in agony and fell, holding the ruined bone and screaming. John rolled to his feet, stepped forward, and stabbed him in the throat. And THen, he stood there, simply staring at what was happening. Somehow he knew there were no more "terrorists", and his brain finally had time to start asking questions. He stood stock still, just staring. And when the SWAT team rushed him outside, he didn't even notice he had been moved until sunlight stung his eyes.
His brain was nearly exploding with questions, and his head hurt. He turned to look at where he was, and the world went black.
Out of Phase 2
Date: 13 December 2003, 1:49 PM
Something was there...something was moving, not just one thing, but many things...perhaps fellow marines? That plasma rifle had hit him pretty hard...maybe the medics had found him. Or perhaps the covenant had decided to capture him...and steal his armor for study. It was more likely that the covenant were about to pick him apart. It was also likely that his armor was off. He felt something prick his arm, and his eyes snapped open.
The nurse saw the eyes of the giant man snap open, and jumped. "Holy....Jesus, you scared me, are you alright?" she asked, gently removing the needle. He looked at his arm. "What did you give me?" he asked sternly, in a powerful commanding voice. "A stimulant to help you wake up sir...do you feel alright? Can I get you something?" she asked him. It was then he noticed the red cross on her uniform and relaxed. "Water, I'm thirsty." he said, sitting up slowly. "Of course!" she said enthusiasticly, smiling at him...a fake smile that showed her apprehension towards him. She brought him a glass of water as the doctor came in...and the first thing he noticed was how alert the mans eyes were. "Ilene...how much of the stimulant did you give him!?" he snapped, suddenly alarmed. "Uhm...he woke up right as I was about to administer the dose..." she said quietly. The doctor grumbled. "Its true." the giant of a man said. The doctor turned to him, suddenly all professinal again. "Well sir, we couldn't find any information on you...probablly because we don't even have your name...wich the press are pounding on the doors screaming for after what you did...whats your name sir?" he asked.
John responded reflexively. "Sp...ah....John" he said, gulping. He had to be careful, because if his theory on where and WHEN he was had any truth, he was in a lot of trouble. "John what?" the man asked. To himself, he thought..."S H I T" and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh...ow, my head hurts...uhhhh, John Spartan" he said, giving a fake last name. The man scoffed. "Ha-ha, now whats your last name?" he asked. John blinked. "That is my last name..." he said, lying to the lord, but doing oh so well at it, thanks to his training. The doctor raised an eyebrow. "If you say so...are you sure you're alright?" he asked again. John nodded. "Very well. Ilene, give this man some food and bring him more water if he's thirsty." the doctor said, walking out. John was very confused as the nurse looked at him funny. "What?" he asked. "John Spartan, ha-ha...we've all seen that movie mister, thats not cute." she said grumbling at him. John could only shrug.***
When the doctor came back, there were more men with him, diffrent uniforms, and most noticably to John...they were armed. Small 9mm weapons, lacking punch, but accurate enough, semi automatic, clip of about 15 rounds, depending on the model...a classic for this era, used for a multitude of purposes...here, it looked like law support. The man also had a light vest of armor on...it wouldn't stop any kind of heavy round, even a .45 ACP round would be painful, but it would certianly keep him alive if he was shot. Cheap, not very effective, but it kept him alive. The man extended his hand, with a grim look on his face. In the instant the man's arm moved forward, John could have grabbed his wrist and broken his arm in five places, thrown him across the room into the nurse, and leaped off the bed to kick the doctor and escape. But instead, he shook the mans hand. "Mister...John Spartan they tell me? Funny given what you did, but we really need your name sir" he said sternly. "You don't understand, that is my name...I'm uh....not from this country...yeah." he said. The man nodded. "Ahhh, that answers a great many things, we couldn't even find a picture of you...where are you from?" he asked. John racked his memory long and hard until he finally came up with a name. "Uhm...England?" he muttered. "I see...anyway...when you're alright, we need to debrief you...and quite frankly, ask you some questions," he said, hardening his voice. "because what you did in there was...well...impossible, you shouldn't have even been inside according to the demands of the terrorists...they said only 12 hostages."
John grunted. This was NOT good. From what he could feel from this place, there were people everywhere, most of them harmless to him, but a few security men would be armed and quite ready to bring him down if need be. So he wouldn't go blasting out. Stealth it was. "Well...I'd like to sleep on all this for awhile, so how bout tommorow morning?" he asked pleasantly. The SWAT man thought briefly and then nodded. "Very well...nine o'clock" he said. With that, he turned on his heel and left. John had to keep from sighing with relief. He laid back down, and shut his eyes, waiting for the time to pass. ***
This was it. His eyes opened. A clock to his right told him it was about 2am, and due to external lighting levels and the level of activity, he guessed this was their weakest hour. He stood up out of the bed, and moved. He was bare footed in a bright blue, thin garment, hardly ideal for sneaking. He opened the small door to his "room" and slipped into the hallway. Making sure he was clear, he headed to the right, for what appeared to be an elevator. Of course he wasn't stupid enough to use an elevator to just walk out of the place, but it WOULD tell him where the fire stairs were. And indeed, a small sign pointed down a fork to the right. Moving quickly and quietly, John ran in a half crouch. He was just about to open the door when he saw the words ~)ALARM WILL SOUND(~ and swore. Well...maybe the elevator wasn't such a bad idea after all...he thought, pressing the call button. It took a minute to arrive, for he appeared to be on the fifteenth floor. He stepped into the wide car, and pressed the button for ~)GROUND FLOOR(~. The car shook lightly, then began a slow, smooth descent. A loud ping indicated his arrival at the ground floor. There was one woman at the front desk, awake, and looking bored. He walked right up to her. "Uhm...Sir? Are you alright?" she asked him, wondering why a patient was up at this hour. "Yes, I'm fine...I just really need my doctor, I think theres something wrong with my brain, it feels swollen. The woman instantly looked concerned. "Well, whats his name?" she asked, looking down at a phone book. John struck her lightly on the back of the head once. She slumped, unconcious, but unharmed onto the desk. With little time to spare, John went around behind the desk, looking for anything he might be able to use. There was nothing. So he vaulted over the desk...and two elevators opened, spewing armed guards, all aiming pistols at him.
"Alright John, thats ENOUGH! Put your hands on your head and LAY ON THE GROUND!" one man shouted. There was no cover, the 9mm bullets would pack enough punch to rip through anything he could duck behind, except for the desk...wich would be suicide. It was then John noticed there was something wrong. They were all wearing suits of some kind, and all had some heavier armor on. John had one plan in mind, and without his MJOLINR armor, it wasn't looking good. It was possible, due to his speed, that he could dodge bullets with his armor...but without it, he was most certianly dead. He would have to try. He spun around and pushed off with one piston like leg before they could all fire. With that, he jumped straight up, and somehow, he cleared the bullets, the tall ceiling of the place....and it didn't matter, because red and blue lights were flashing outside, and heavily armed men, with rather nasty looking M4 Carbines had formed a semi-circle outside the front door.
Out of Phase 3
Date: 16 December 2003, 10:35 PM
The chief landed in a crouch, and for an instant thought he saw a muzzle flash. But he was still in one peice, 5.56mm rounds weren't chewing him into a bloody, holed up corpse, 40mm HE grenades from the M203 launchers weren't blowing chunks of flesh from his body. "GET ON YOUR KNEES! NOW!" a voice amplified man yelled at him, aiming a side arm with another hand. The chief could feel the snipers looking at him, and just about see the tiny dots dancing around on his chest. Someone, trying to be quiet, whispered to someone behind him "cuff him, they've got you covered."
The cheif felt him walk up quietly behind him and noticed everyone tense up. It was then, that he spotted the weakness among the hardened soldiers in black. The eyes of one were ice cold blue...but they were wide with fear and apprehension. The chief could tell, he'd never shot someone before. His hands were shaking, and his pupils were highly dilated. His stance shifted in just the slightest every few seconds...and one word came to the chiefs mind..."perfect". The police officer was mere steps behind him now...almost...wait...and the chief struck. He moved like a lightning bolt, whipping around behind the man, taking his weapon, choking him with one arm and pressing the weapon against his temple with the other. He barely contained a snicker when he heard all of the men in black mutter "aww shit". They were on the move now, moving to encircle him. "Stop in your tracks, stay stock still, or you'll have brains for a paintjob" he said, referring to the black, armored van, that was intrestingly unmarked, meaning he was dealing with people involved in enough dirty work to not have a public marking.
"Lower the weapons, double time." he hissed, hating the fact that he was holding another human being hostage. Slowly, he backed up, a plan still being formulated. He had the weak point and the transportation, he had something to bargain with, but he still hadn't worked out the snipers. "Tell the scopes to piss off" he said harshly. "Or I'm going to blow this man's jaw off" he taunted, giving a light flinch, causing everyone to tense up. He heard the hushed radio broadcast to the snipers. "If you have a shot, take it as soon as possible, we need this one taken out..." and the chief saw a slight flinch. He raised the pistol and fired into the air. Onlookers screamed, men ducked, but the cheif stayed in one peice. That was when they saw the body, and a highly customized sniper's rifle falling. The body smashed into a car, destorying it, and sending glass everywhere. The rifle however, had been spinning through the air, and landed not far from the chief. John was now aiming at the men, and was glad to hear, "Alright, man down...snipers, hold your fire until instructed."
There were more people behind him, he wouldn't have leverage for much longer. The sniper's rifle gave him an idea though...it was going to be practically impossible, even for the chief, but if it WORKED, he would have enough time to get away on foot until he could find a vehicle. Slowly the chief moved forward, as if he was going to give in. "Ah...look...we don't need anymore killing..." he said nervously, as if backing off, like the death had hurt him. The negoiators were ALL OVER this. "Thats right John...just let him go..." and he felt the last sniper remove his aim. "He raised the pistol from the man's skull, the barrel facing straight up...and in a super quick motion, whipped the hostage in the head, knocking him out cold...but continued to move downward, using his slumped head to brace his shot. He fired once, and a 9mm slug tore into the right eye of who he had decided was the leader of the men in black. Before they could even blink, two more men went down with bullets in the face. John dropped, using the body for a shield as heavier rounds tore into it. Blood was sprayed across his face and shoulders, as he pretended to take hits. Finally, he dropped, but didn't let go of the weapon.
"Holy jesus, holy jesus, is he dead?" the rookie asked. "No way he lived through that. Lets pack it up." someone said. "God...never seen anyone shoot like that..." someone said. John felt them turn, and his hand lashed out, grabbing at the sniper rifle. He was in luck...a .50 calibur anti-vehicle rifle...modified to also carry 7.62mm slugs, clip fed, where it appeared that the .50 cal rounds were put in individually into the proper chamber. The weapon had a dipod, but it weighed quite a bit...to the chief it was almost nothing, but he was still impressed. He rolled into a crouch and took aim. Someone shouted an alarm that he was alive. He had the shot lined up as the first man turned around. He fired, and time seemed to stop as the .50 cal shot punched through the armor sorrounding the gas tank. The chief, as usual, was right on the mark.
The van exploded in a hellish like fireball, and it was blasted up into the air, glass flying, people screaming, but most importantly...briefly incapacitating the armed men. The chief didn't even get to his feet before he was sprinting right at them. Holding the rifle in both hands, the small pistol tucked into the thin pants he wore. He reached the first soldier, who was getting to his feet, and jumped forward, kicking him square in the chest, breaking his ribs, and knocking the wind out of him. Two more were getting up, it appeared shrapnel had wounded a few and killed half as many as that. The two were trying to raise their carbines, when the chief lashed out. The rifle butt cracked the skull of the faster man, and the chief's right foot crashed into the other's side, launching him into another man. The chief heard someone take a potshot, and he rolled forward....to find the buisness end of an M4 in his face....and it was none other than the rookie. John grinned. "You're not going to stop me kid. I can see your nervous...you've still got the safety on" he said. It worked. The young man glanced....and caught a rifle butt in gut, followed up by a swift knee in the face. John grabbed his gun as he dropped it and sprinted, now under slowly increasing fire, to a car. He threw the rifle and carbine in threw the other window, and leapt clear over the car's hood, threw himself into the drivers seat, and hit the gas, seeing as some moron had left the keys in. He sped away, keeping all the lights off, and the city howled after him.
Out of Phase 4
Date: 22 January 2004, 8:39 PM
John had always liked driving, but something was wrong with this car...he couldn't quite tell yet, but something was definitly wrong. There were to many buttons, and the inside was all...flashy...John had heard of such a thing, a dying art in his time, but in these times modifying vehicles to look and preform better was everywhere. And this car certianly had been modifyed. There was a little red button on either side of the steering wheel, and he was getting more and more curious to find out just WHAT it did. But now was not the time, considering he was moving at a high rate of speed and being fired upon, while dodging through light traffic of this hour. His vehicle was unfortunatly modified to be lighter...and the bullets being fired, though innacurate, were penetrating into the trunk and interior of the vehicle on occasion. He recognized the sound of another legendary weapon, the 9mm HK sub macine gun, often employed by paramillitary forces.
The chief knew that soon he would have to abandon this vehicle soon, as more and more vehicles were coming closer to cutting him off, forcing a wreck, and more were joining the chase. When helicopters joined the chase, he knew he would have to ditch soon. After a flat out acceleration on the road he was on, the city seemed to fade...and he saw a drawbridge...a drawbidge being raised. The chief instantly formed a plan. He would either make the jump, and loose the ground vehicles following him, only having to contend with unarmed helicopters, wich he could scare off. Or, he would miss and hit the river below, and swim to safety underwater. And about two seconds before he hit the upward slope, he decided to be bold, and smacked both little red buttons. He jerked in his safety harness as the car SHOT forward, the speedometer going all the way back around to the 50mph mark. The car hit the bridge and shot into the air...and the angle was too high, he might not make it. The chief double checked the safety harness, and prayed the small arms he had captured wouldn't be set off by the landing. When the car hit the road, the chief was rocked forward and up, smashing the top of his head against the top of the windshield.
Blood leaked down the sides of his face and a little was stuck on a now large crack in the windshield. The impact severly lowered his speed, forcing the chief to drop back to third gear before rapidly accelerating. The helicoptors continued to follow, and the chief made sure he was on a long straightaway, traffic non-existant, probablly due to radio warnings to the civillians. John grabbed the M4 carbine from the passenger seat, and made sure he was on a long straight away, before dropping the sniper's rifle onto the accelerator and jamming the steering wheel at the same time. Then, in an insane move, he opened the door, and gripping the frame of the car with one hand, he made ready. The helicoptors saw him, and hesitantly began to pull back. The cheif, however, was highly skilled with just about any kind of shot, and his aiming ahead of the choppers seemed to be stupid. Then, he opened fire, a full auto blast of bullets hammered into the nose of the first helicopter. Rounds penetrated the metal framing, and fuel began to leak out, and very soon, the pilot had lost control. The chief however, didn't take any chances that they might pull out, and kept firing. More slugs punched into the glass beneath the copilot's feet, shattering the glass onto poth pilot and copilot and giving the copilot a bullet wound in the knee, very painful.
There was no way to stop the chopper now. The copilot's screaming and flailing caused the pilot to release his controls, and the copter plowed straight into a building. At first, there was only silence...then the loudest explosion the chief had ever heard. He NEARLY lost his grip on the frame of the car. The clip ran dry, and he dropped the empty weapon onto the road before pulling himself back inside the car. He tossed the sniper's rifle aside and took control of the car again. But as he moved to put his foot back on the accelerator...he noticed the pedal had jammed. For now, it didn't matter, but soon it would. He just held the wheel, and let the car fly forward at close to 126 miles perhour. However, he would have no time to formulate a plan, as an obviously millitary jeep pulled out infront of him. A "Hummer" as they were called. There was a man manning a .50 calibur machine gun, and he knew at the angle and range, that he would not miss. John deperatly yanked the 9mm from his waistband, and took aim. He fired once, and the gunner recoiled, grabbing at his left shoulder. John swore aloud as he finished the aiming of the weapon, and opened fire. Heavy rounds punched into the engine, and John knew he had no choice. He kicked the door off and dove, hitting the street and rolling over and over, his head spinning.
When the rolling stopped, he was amaze to find himself uninjured. The vehicle had exploded, and the millitary jeep was turning around. It was here john thought of something...it didn't really seem possible, but somehow, the properties of his MJOLINR armor had transferred to him...atleast some of them, and it appeared that his shields was one of those properties...and from some of the things he had tried and succeded in earlier, it appeared that added speed and strength was another. John slowly got to his feet, as the jeep bore down on him. He stood his ground as it came straight at him. WHen it reached him, the driver skidded it to a stop infront of him and John could sense the passenger aiming a weapon at him, the gunner pointing the .50 cal machine gun at him. The chief slowly took aim, ignoring their shouts for him to drop his weapon. He fired once, and the gunner fell with a bullet nestled between his eyes, blood and small bits of bone flew as the man slumped dead. The passenger fired his rifle from the door, and the chief stood still. It was as he predicted. The bullet deflected off of his "shields", and the chief could see a nearly transparent distortion in the air around his body. His experiment complete, he dropped to one knee and fired again, spinning. The three shots he fired all connected with his two targets. The first one blasted into the passenger's right eye, spraying gore and dropping him dead, the second cathing him in his forehead as he fell backwards, and the third punching into the drivers skull.
The chief rose, and stepped forward, moving to the passenger. He stripped him of his weapon, an M16A2 rifle, and any ammo he was carrying. The driver was shoved into the street, as the chief commandeered the Hummer, speeding away into the night.
Out of Phase 5
Date: 11 May 2004, 3:51 AM
The chief spun the jeep around as the tank came around the corner. Seconds later, a 90mm shell exploded very nearby, and the jeep flipped. The chief managed to get a hand on the M16A2, but he was ejected through the windshield, somehow his armor's properties protecting him from any serious harm. He landed face down, and stayed laying that way, playing dead. A surprising amount of military forces had been assembled to stop one man, but he found it impressive how well law enforcement could handle such things. He could hear several tanks nearby, and a plethora of infantry men had encircled him, the chief felt about twenty seven weapons trained on him, plus snipers. A tight ring of men was formed around his body, and he could literally feel the tension hit the air as someone said "check him".
John was waiting for just the right moment, this would be simple if all went well. In a blur he was on his feet and aiming the classic weapon. There was a loud pop as the rifle fired, a 5.56mm bullet smashing into the forehead of the nearby tanks gunner. The man slumped over the weapon with gore oozing from his destroyed skull. The chief fired twice more, and blew bits of bone away from the foreheads of two more men. John heard rifle shots, and he knew he was taking hits. He spun and fired three more times, dropping three more men. Then, something he wasn't expecting happened. A rather nasty M249 cut loose, spraying lead in his direction. John sprinted, and dove, skidding on his stomach to lie under the tank. Instantly, the rounds tracked towards the tank, pelting the ground where John had slid under it with very little accuracy flaws. To John, that meant a prone soldier, his weapon supported.
John knew he had about 24 rounds left, plus the hand gun, wich was useless unless it was headshots. The tank was very temporary, and as it began to move forward, John was forced to try something new. He rolled as soon as he had room, ending up in a shooting crouch. He fired four shots, dropping four men, and just as he had the fifth shot lined up, a sniper bullet smacked into his "shields", making reality flicker around him. John rolled backwards and spun as he did so, then, with swanlike grace, he leapt, and landed atop the tank, quickly manning the browning .50cal machine gun. He spun the weapon, and opened fired. The titanic rounds ripped into armor and blew gaping holes in the chest cavities of the unfortunate men. There was some vauge return fire, and snipers were pelting the tank, but the tank's momentum somehow kept john alive.
Finally, the titanic weapon ran out of ammunition, forcing John to switch to the M60 that was mounted up next to the .50. However, it soon became fruitless. More helicopters, more men, and armored units were arriving. John dropped into the tank, pulling the hand gun, seeing as he had dropped the rifle when he leapt for the gunner's position. He pistol whipped the driver, and sat in his seat. John looked at the controls momentarily, and made some hastiy logical assumptions. He was half right. The tank lurched forward, but only on one tread, slowly turning him in a circle. John desperatly played with the controls until he got things right. He wasn't even going to begin thinking about firing the cannon, but driving a tank straight at an APC ought to get some attention.
The much smaller APC driver tried to move, but the giant tank hit him head on as John clambered out of the top hatch. Slowly, the APC was crushed by the much heavier tank. John went sprinting, then dove, rolling down a long hill, gunshots tracing him a bit of the way down. Seconds later a huge explosion lit the night sky, a titanic fireball arcing into the air with a somewhat divine look about it. John didn't want to think about how many human's he'd just killed. Even if this all turned about to be some kind of dream, he doubted he would ever live it down. He stayed stock still at the bottom of the long roll down a hill, dizzy, and for the moment incapacitated. But soon it wore off, and he put a plan into motion.
If he was correct about his armor's properties being transferred to him, he would be able to survive, somewhat indefinitly, submereged. John, using his excellent sense of direction, took off running in what he assumed would be the general direction of the river he had crossed. He would dive in, and bide his time while he figured things out. He ran for hours, finally beginning to notice his speed that the armor gave him. He ran, being chased by tanks, cars, APC's, and helicopters. But each time, he somehow got away for awhile. His plan to jump into the river and hide almost worked.
John came around another bend to find the gigantic bridge in full view. And as he moved to climb over the railing, three boats came out of nowhere, and he was being peppered with small arms fire. John leapt down, and landed hard atop one of the patrol boats. The police men were caught totally off guard. John's weight caused him to break right through the boat and sink straight to the bottom of the river. This also quickly flodded and sunk the boat he had just "torpedo'd" but it definitly didn't leave him much in the way of options. He was however, impressed again by the response's of these people. Just as he hit the bottom, what could only be a Los Angles Class nuclear submarine went right over his head.
Out of Phase 6
Date: 18 May 2004, 3:14 AM
The chief was...feeling some trepadation to say the least. Ground troops and tanks was one thing, but a Los Angles Class nuclear attack submarine was a whole diffrent story. One torpedo, detonating anywhere near him meant goodbye. He stood stock still, and the sub began to decelerate above him. And it was as he feared, divers were dispersing from multiple airlocks, armed with high pressure harpoon guns. His shields were tough, designed to withstand plasma, but those harpoons would go right through him at close range. They were moving quickly, the cheif focused on one, and surprisingly, the man became larger in his vision and more clear in a quick moment. The chief it assumed it was the magnification built into his armor's visor. What he saw next bothered him even more...pistols...small, but only one pistol he had ever read about fired underwater...and it was the infamous Glock.
The chief had studied Glocks extensively as a personal hobby. There were many makes and models, but they were the best of their time, the most versatile hand gun ever created, in his opinion. They would fire up too twenty feet underwater...that was the effective range anyway. They were looking for him, that was for certian, but the cheif could't be seen by them. He pushed off the murky river bottom, and began to kick, the raw power of his legs combined with the amplified strength of MJOLINR sent him speeding towards the submarine. But to his aggrivation, they spotted him. A harpoon went sailing past his head, and the chief went into overdrive. He added his arms to his movement...arms that had enough strength to hurl a 66 ton scorpion tank. The chief blurred through the water, and approached the sub. The first hatch he found had remained open on the bottom, and for this the cheif was thankful. He swam into the airlock and pulled the hatch shut, hearing about five harpoons clang against it. He searched quickly until he located the controls for the pressure control.
The room drained before his eyes, and a green light blinked, quickly followed by a sharp click of a lock. The hatch above opened and John climbed up. He would only have minutes before the alarm was raised, he had to work quickly. He had no idea where the bridge would be, but he guessed it would be near the tower protruding from the dorsal side of the submarine. He moved quickly and quietly, pausing once to knock out a sailor that was rather muscular and steel his uniform. Strange how his armor properties were only working to stop attacks. He moved quickly and purposefully, no longer worried about being questioned. He approached the bridge, knowing it was just that by the orders and how they were given. Not to mention the obvious "Captian, dive team one returning now, they say they lost contact as the target was going for the surface" someone said calmly. The chief had been ready to rush in and storm them with his hands and feet. But it appeared they thought he was on the surface, and if that was true, he might be able to hide among the crew for awhile.
But when he heard the bolt of an M9 click, he knew that wasn't happening. "Hands up, now" the voice said simply, in a monotone. The cheif hadn't heard or felt him coming...sneaky bastard indeed. So he spun, and lashed out with his left leg. The blow could have cracked a concrete wall two feet thick with half that force. The man was launched backwards, all his ribs shattered, the force of the blow causing his heart to explode. The man landed twenty feet down the narrow corridor, and lay dead...minus the M9 pistol, wich lay in the chief's right hand. Now he was armed, and that made him oh so dangerous. But someone had heard the hard landing and the gun click, and the bridge hatch sealed itself shut. Fine, they wanted to play hardball, the cheif would play hardball. He turned, and began a hunt for the engine room. ***
The alarm sounded halfway down the last ladder that would lead to the engine room. The chief dove in and rolled forward, then began to move. The hatches shut automatically as the general quarters alarm was sounded. The chief crew the M9 he had stuffed into his waistband and removed the safety. One guard came to investigate...so they were cautious...he was armed with an MP5, and wearing body armor with a helmet. The chief fired once, only once, and the man lost his right eye, falling dead to the ground. The chief picked up the MP5, and kept walking. Two more guards fell with holes in their faces as the cheif moved, fearlessly through the engine room. Finally, he found what he was looking for, the chief engineer...who tried to subdue him with a wrench to the head. The chief easily snapped the steel tool in half and hauled the man up by his collar. "If you want to live, you shut off all the lights on this submarine, now, kill everything except ventalation systems." the cheif ordered. The man looked nervous but didn't flinch. The chief raised the gun to his head...and then slowly pointed it towards the seemingly endless number of panels. "Do it, or I'll do it the hard way." he said. "Al...alright." the man said calmly. The chief let him go, and kept the gun trained on him.
Minutes later, everylight in the submarine died, and the man fell down after the chief gave him a chop in the neck. He focused on letting his eyes adjust...and his night vision kicked in. He could see fine, everyone else was blind as a bat until the engineer woke up...wich wouldn't be for awhile. So the chief retraced his steps to the bridge, and with one simple strike, the door collapsed inwards. "Shit, what was that?" someone said...everyone was still at their stations, the captain and the important officers still standing. The cheif moved over to the captain and put the gun to his head. "This ship is now under control of the USMC, any attempts to overthrow this judgement will result in execution." he said in a monotone. "Are you out of your goddamned..." and he said no more as the chief pulled the trigger, blood spraying outwards, the captain falling dead. The gun then moved to the first officer. "This ship is now under my control" he said quietly. The man was choked up, angry and horrified, but not stupid. "Very well" he managed. The chief lowered the weapon. "Blow the main balast, now" he orderd.
Slowly, in the darkness of 4 am, the Hudson River bubbled...and then, like a giant serpent arising from the depths, the ship surfaced. Com channels went nuts, and civil defense was nearly called in. Something was DEFEINITLY not right. One man had been placed in charge of all the millitary forces available to hunt the man down. The city was on lockdown, all civillians were to be kept indoors at all times, police were herding them in, and making sure that everyone stayed in, while the marines hunted for him. And now, a nuclear submarine had surfaced in the middle of the river. The general didn't have time to calculate and guess. If the man had control over a submarine, that meant nuclear warheads. "Sink them, now" he ordered coldly. Somewhere off the coast, a fleet of naval vessels recieved the order, and a cruise missile turret began to turn...
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