DOCUMENT CLASSIFIED
DO NOT OPEN, PROPERTY OF BRITISH GOVERNMENT, ONLY FOR THE EYES OF CLASS R15 CLEARANCE OR HIGHER
DOCUMENT OPENING. . .
-NOVEMBER 15th, 1988
-THE [REDACTED] PORT IN [REDACTED], CHINA
-S.A.S SQUADRON ULYSSES-6 "PANTHER" IS DEPLOYED TO SABOTAGE CHINESE NAVAL ESTABLISHMENTS AND GATHER INTELLIGENCE CONCERNING OTHER ENDEAVORS
-CPL. DAVID LOWE, SGT. JULIEN SMALL, CPL. JOEL KELLY, AND LT. STERLING HOLLOWAY ARE DEPLOYED
-SMALL "BOGIE" COVERT SUBMARINE USED FOR THE TRANSPORT TO OBJECTIVE SHORES
"Okay, we go in, we go out, and we get the intel, plant charges, all as we rehearsed. Do you boys understand that?" Lieutenant Sterling Holloway asked, an inflection of exasperation flying across his voice briefly. The Bogie sub wasn't exactly very comfortable, and they had been sitting in it for hours. A repulsive smell of oil slick and sweat drifted uncomfortably through the dank, dark boat - as David Lowe put his knees to his chin in an attempt to make his own form as small as possible.
Sgt. Julien Small coughed lightly, before looking to the other man, all while the steady, but light hum of an engine filled the sub. Julien then dawned an expression that almost seemed like a smirk, before replying: "Understood, sir. Has Chinese present increased in the area? I mean, I've heard shit from the Americans stationed in Hamburg - somethin' about fortification of ports in the Northern half of Germany." To this, Holloway sighed, before replying with contempt for the current inefficiency of intelligence operations. "Well, you see, we don't have much on the Chinese. Aussies haven't gotten crap from em' yet, they hide intel pretty damn well, I'd say. Thought you guys got briefed on this..."" Throughout this tangent, Joel Kelly stayed silent, preferring to nervously fiddle with the Browning Hi - Power pistol each of the soldiers had been issued for the operation.
The pilot of the submarine knocked on the metal side of the small vehicle, certainly to grab the attention of the human cargo that the menial boat faithfully carried through all the potential dangers of the water. It was somewhat of a poetic mannerism that was attached here, David pondered thoughtfully, almost like -
"OKAY, E.T.A FIVE MINUTES TILL YOU ALL HAVE TO GET OUT, SIGNAL ONCE YOU COMPLETE THE MISSION AND WE'LL COME BACK! YOU'LL ONLY HAVE A COUPLE OF MINUTES TO BOARD BEFORE WE HAVE TO LEAVE, THE CHINESE HAVE THIS ALL SIGHTED OUT FOR MORTARS!" A burly pilot man called, his words laced with a thick Scottish accent. This information was nothing new, it had been gone over seemingly limitlessly prior to the official briefing - so no gesture was required other than a few nods, which proved sufficient to the man, who turned back to his duties of managing the Bogie.
David looked back down to his own pistol, another issue of the Browning Hi - Power, a magnificent weapon in it's own right. A sleek hammer, punctuated by a breathtaking fragging capability and wooden handle, which proved easy to manage and maneuver in a close quarters combat situation, or CQC for short. He checked the ammunition once again, before holstering the weapon, and receding once again into the fetal position that the man had previous enveloped himself into, once again trying to fight off the discomfort that encroached onto his body. The stink was everywhere now, as it stung David's eyes, and forced him to breathe through his mouth - only further punctuating the distaste of his current situation.
The five minutes explained by the pilot, (whose name was Franklin Evans) felt like hours, and the metaphorical elongation was personally attributed to the rotten egg stench, and claustrophobic conditions that continued to plague the small vessel. However, they finally found the designated drop off spot, and the submarine came to a blessed halt.
"GO, GO, GO!" Franklin Evans yelled, as David and the others sat themselves up into a crouched position, heading for the small exit hatch that was located on the roof of the Bogie, and when Joel Kelly reached it, he was given a stern nod from Lt. Holloway, the man opened, motioning for the others to follow his lead out into the midnight Asian air. Joel, Holloway, and Julien all made it out - David being the last to exit.
His senses were immediately overwhelmed with an icy blast of wind, and he drank it in thankfully, as his sinuses were finally cleared from the smell that was present back in the transport sub. David heard several light splashes, and when he alighted to look around for his squad mates, they were already in the water - headed towards the shore. The final S.A.S operative was quick to join them, as well, as David Lowe dived into the surprisingly warm Pacific water.
The water rushed behind him, as David felt himself ripping through the sea extremely quickly, as the group of men were loyally trained to do. It was a quick sensation, as he rapidly reached a beach, highlighted by dark beige sand, as a low tide continued to sweep in onto it. The small strip of land wasn't exactly noteworthy, though several frigates and patrol ships of the Chinese Navy were in sight - and even a destroyer. Why the hell was a destroyer in a merged civilian port? Well, that wasn't his question to ask, David decided, something for the real intelligence officers to mull over after the operation. But it wasn't exactly his job to be a thinker, was it? Sure, you needed intellect to pull these kinds of stunts - but his real purpose was to be one of the guys that really got their hands dirty, so to speak.
A light tap of footsteps echoed on the steps above, and David looked to his left - only to see Julien Small prone right there. The sergeant motioned above, crossing his hands in a queer sort of way that would only make sense to those familiar with military signaling. The message that the man was trying to get across was that there was a Chinese sentry above, likely armed with an automatic rifle and other instruments of war that could easily rip both of the British men to pieces. David understood this, and methodically sheathed his given combat knife from it's holding place, and carefully climbed up the structure of the deck. The man above was in standard Chinese military uniform, and sure enough was carrying an AK - 74 assault rifle, presumably with several grenades across his belt.
The sentry was several meters away, and when he noticed David sneaking up to his side, it was already too late. All the Asian soldier could manage was a low, surprised gasp before the S.A.S soldier plunged his combat knife through his chest. The blade punctured his lung, causing the guard to sporadically start coughing up bodily liquids in a struggle to breathe. David released the knife, before stabbing it back into his throat - a certain kill, as the sentry went completely limp. Poor bastard. The British man thought, just another wrong place at the wrong time scenario. Hopefully no other blood would have to be spilled for the remainder of the operation, but there were no guarantees in this line of work...
Hopefully.
DO NOT OPEN, PROPERTY OF BRITISH GOVERNMENT, ONLY FOR THE EYES OF CLASS R15 CLEARANCE OR HIGHER
DOCUMENT OPENING. . .
-NOVEMBER 15th, 1988
-THE [REDACTED] PORT IN [REDACTED], CHINA
-S.A.S SQUADRON ULYSSES-6 "PANTHER" IS DEPLOYED TO SABOTAGE CHINESE NAVAL ESTABLISHMENTS AND GATHER INTELLIGENCE CONCERNING OTHER ENDEAVORS
-CPL. DAVID LOWE, SGT. JULIEN SMALL, CPL. JOEL KELLY, AND LT. STERLING HOLLOWAY ARE DEPLOYED
-SMALL "BOGIE" COVERT SUBMARINE USED FOR THE TRANSPORT TO OBJECTIVE SHORES
"Okay, we go in, we go out, and we get the intel, plant charges, all as we rehearsed. Do you boys understand that?" Lieutenant Sterling Holloway asked, an inflection of exasperation flying across his voice briefly. The Bogie sub wasn't exactly very comfortable, and they had been sitting in it for hours. A repulsive smell of oil slick and sweat drifted uncomfortably through the dank, dark boat - as David Lowe put his knees to his chin in an attempt to make his own form as small as possible.
Sgt. Julien Small coughed lightly, before looking to the other man, all while the steady, but light hum of an engine filled the sub. Julien then dawned an expression that almost seemed like a smirk, before replying: "Understood, sir. Has Chinese present increased in the area? I mean, I've heard shit from the Americans stationed in Hamburg - somethin' about fortification of ports in the Northern half of Germany." To this, Holloway sighed, before replying with contempt for the current inefficiency of intelligence operations. "Well, you see, we don't have much on the Chinese. Aussies haven't gotten crap from em' yet, they hide intel pretty damn well, I'd say. Thought you guys got briefed on this..."" Throughout this tangent, Joel Kelly stayed silent, preferring to nervously fiddle with the Browning Hi - Power pistol each of the soldiers had been issued for the operation.
The pilot of the submarine knocked on the metal side of the small vehicle, certainly to grab the attention of the human cargo that the menial boat faithfully carried through all the potential dangers of the water. It was somewhat of a poetic mannerism that was attached here, David pondered thoughtfully, almost like -
"OKAY, E.T.A FIVE MINUTES TILL YOU ALL HAVE TO GET OUT, SIGNAL ONCE YOU COMPLETE THE MISSION AND WE'LL COME BACK! YOU'LL ONLY HAVE A COUPLE OF MINUTES TO BOARD BEFORE WE HAVE TO LEAVE, THE CHINESE HAVE THIS ALL SIGHTED OUT FOR MORTARS!" A burly pilot man called, his words laced with a thick Scottish accent. This information was nothing new, it had been gone over seemingly limitlessly prior to the official briefing - so no gesture was required other than a few nods, which proved sufficient to the man, who turned back to his duties of managing the Bogie.
David looked back down to his own pistol, another issue of the Browning Hi - Power, a magnificent weapon in it's own right. A sleek hammer, punctuated by a breathtaking fragging capability and wooden handle, which proved easy to manage and maneuver in a close quarters combat situation, or CQC for short. He checked the ammunition once again, before holstering the weapon, and receding once again into the fetal position that the man had previous enveloped himself into, once again trying to fight off the discomfort that encroached onto his body. The stink was everywhere now, as it stung David's eyes, and forced him to breathe through his mouth - only further punctuating the distaste of his current situation.
The five minutes explained by the pilot, (whose name was Franklin Evans) felt like hours, and the metaphorical elongation was personally attributed to the rotten egg stench, and claustrophobic conditions that continued to plague the small vessel. However, they finally found the designated drop off spot, and the submarine came to a blessed halt.
"GO, GO, GO!" Franklin Evans yelled, as David and the others sat themselves up into a crouched position, heading for the small exit hatch that was located on the roof of the Bogie, and when Joel Kelly reached it, he was given a stern nod from Lt. Holloway, the man opened, motioning for the others to follow his lead out into the midnight Asian air. Joel, Holloway, and Julien all made it out - David being the last to exit.
His senses were immediately overwhelmed with an icy blast of wind, and he drank it in thankfully, as his sinuses were finally cleared from the smell that was present back in the transport sub. David heard several light splashes, and when he alighted to look around for his squad mates, they were already in the water - headed towards the shore. The final S.A.S operative was quick to join them, as well, as David Lowe dived into the surprisingly warm Pacific water.
The water rushed behind him, as David felt himself ripping through the sea extremely quickly, as the group of men were loyally trained to do. It was a quick sensation, as he rapidly reached a beach, highlighted by dark beige sand, as a low tide continued to sweep in onto it. The small strip of land wasn't exactly noteworthy, though several frigates and patrol ships of the Chinese Navy were in sight - and even a destroyer. Why the hell was a destroyer in a merged civilian port? Well, that wasn't his question to ask, David decided, something for the real intelligence officers to mull over after the operation. But it wasn't exactly his job to be a thinker, was it? Sure, you needed intellect to pull these kinds of stunts - but his real purpose was to be one of the guys that really got their hands dirty, so to speak.
A light tap of footsteps echoed on the steps above, and David looked to his left - only to see Julien Small prone right there. The sergeant motioned above, crossing his hands in a queer sort of way that would only make sense to those familiar with military signaling. The message that the man was trying to get across was that there was a Chinese sentry above, likely armed with an automatic rifle and other instruments of war that could easily rip both of the British men to pieces. David understood this, and methodically sheathed his given combat knife from it's holding place, and carefully climbed up the structure of the deck. The man above was in standard Chinese military uniform, and sure enough was carrying an AK - 74 assault rifle, presumably with several grenades across his belt.
The sentry was several meters away, and when he noticed David sneaking up to his side, it was already too late. All the Asian soldier could manage was a low, surprised gasp before the S.A.S soldier plunged his combat knife through his chest. The blade punctured his lung, causing the guard to sporadically start coughing up bodily liquids in a struggle to breathe. David released the knife, before stabbing it back into his throat - a certain kill, as the sentry went completely limp. Poor bastard. The British man thought, just another wrong place at the wrong time scenario. Hopefully no other blood would have to be spilled for the remainder of the operation, but there were no guarantees in this line of work...
Hopefully.