Operation: Leviathan (Retro Thread)

[Dragon Girl advancements disabled: alien suit, force shield, gravity manipulator device, alien technomancy]

5 years ago

A crisis had brewed up in the Tsushima Straight, as regional news picked up on the situation on the water. The HMS Lady Voyage, a luxury cruise ship laden with international passengers from Japan, Korea, the US and others, had been stalled by modern day Piracy. These pirates presented itself as “The True Way”, and demanded the impossible terms of closure of all American bases in the Asia region. Naturally, Uncle Sam didn’t like this challenge, and Washington swore to deal with these “Pirates” with extreme prejudice. But, South Korea knew something America didn't.

Not an hour passed, and a crack team was assembled on the American Carrier Group in the region, the USS Carl Vinson, in a closed-door meeting in a conference room. The briefing was so urgent that only operatives and select senior officials were allowed to attend, and the grunts would have to stand. South Korea sent a grand total of two senior officers and one operative. She was a marine grunt, but wearing a military diving suit under her BDU. Her hair definitely not regulation length, and she carried no weapon beyond a bowie knife, and stood head and shoulders above her officers.

The South Koreans were ushered from the helicopter pad by ship MP’s into the carrier interior. A storm had started brewing, the skies gray and thick. Rain began to pour, causing the officers to sprint, though the tall grunt didn’t rush. They were led to the conference room. The senior officials carried only a briefcase of intel, and they tapped it nervously.

The command deck was abuzz with life, the Carl Vinson was at combat ready, all weapons stations manned, and a plethora of movement and preparation above deck, and below. Within the briefing room, Colonel A.G Swainson stood with the iconic smug of a high ranking military officer. Holding a rolled paper in his left hand, gently tapping it in his right palm.

"Come on, pick up your god damn feet people, we've got work to do!"

He barked aloud, amazingly enough somehow his words indeed helped the cluster at the door ease in, everyone was packed in the room tightly. Roughly twenty-four grunts total, hailing from several different combat units. When the door closed, the Colonel immediately glanced towards the Admiral in the room.

"The hell is General Sue Yeoun? Busy or something?"

The Admiral canted his head, shrugging.

"Unreachable..."

Swainson scoffed, then peered through the crowd, resting his eyes briefly on one Specialist Elaine Sierra Wolff, staring at the woman curiously, then glancing over to Captain Michael James Stewart. Then played this off by continuing to slap that paper against his open palm.

"Unfuckinreachable, what a god damn joke. Alright, shut up let's get down to business. Precisely forty-eight minutes ago a luxury cruise liner was boarded by an unconfirmed number of hostiles. Number, unknown... Armaments, unknown. What we do know is that they've taken hostages. Manifest counts one hundred and seventy-three crew included. These... Pirates, call themselves The New Way, their demands are... Simple. The immediate, and lasting closure of all US Naval, AND Air bases in the Asia region.

A few chuckles broke out in the room, hushed, under breath, but audible. Swainson didn't even reprimand them, instead smirking himself and nodding a few times.

"Yeah, they always got something new for us don't they. All of you make up Operation Leviathan. We aren't shutting anything down but this bullshit... Corporal...

A energetic corporal moved to a computer, opening it and projecting a map of the area, with a real-time map cast over top.

"There are twenty-four of you in here. Marines, Berets, Rangers...

He grimaced then, noting the absence of the South Koreans.

"We were expecting ROK Black Berets, but I guess they got lost. So, it's on us. Now. All of you weren't just selected for a pretty face. We wanna' hit these sons of bitches hard, and quiet. And for that we're deploying today the X5 Wingsuit. You all remember your training on that right? If you don't ask a buddy, cause you're gonna' be using em'.

He pointed up to the projected screen, and the corporal flipped the slide on queue.

"You'll leave the Carl Vinson, traveling East-by-West aboard on-

Sir, the Black Hats are on the deck sir... They're going to be performing a naval assault, concurrent with the ahh' the Strike Force insertion"

Swainson's mouth had gone agape at the interruption, and nodded a few times.

"Ouuuutstanding. Alright, anyway East-by-West, to this point here. At altitude, you're all going to disembark the V-22, far enough away so they won't hear he fuselage, close enough for an easy glide at altitude. All jokes aside, if you're unsure how the X5 works, trust the tech. Or ask someone, don't need you dying before you've had a chance to kill the bad guys...

He hesitated, seeming as if he had lost his words for a moment before snapping his eyes back on the Task Force.

"Rules of Engagement are lifted here, anything holding a firearm is free game. This is an international shit show, and we need it finished. If they surrender, do what you can; otherwise, you're to shoot first. Understood?

Most of the room (including Elaine) responded with a curt 'YES SIR!'. She still couldn't believe they had sent her out on a mission like this so soon, she was still green. She had never even been in a firefight, she just had high marks on her physicals, and written exams. Given, she knew she was probably more survivable than most, but he military didn't know that. It was... Surprising.

"Alright, Task Force Leviathan, you have your orders. You're dismissed. Gear up and be on the deck in no more than fifteen, for anyone that isn't geared, we have a temporary station right next door, remember the top-deck is long, but UAV reconnaissance doesn't suggest any targets above. So if there's any fighting, it'll likely be close quarters. Get what you need, don't worry about signing out shit, and if you die in my X5, I'll personally kick your ass. Lets Move... Go. Go Go!

He said aloud, causing a sudden stir in the room as everyone left to go next door and arm up. Though Swainson wanted to speak to a few of them. personally it seemed.

"Specialist Wolff, Captain Stewart. Get over here. Everyone else get the hell out... Not You, come here...

He said, pointing directly at Dragon Girl, although an older man, he commanded a certain respect, it was evident in the way he commanded. In a sense, it was inspiring. Something to look up too. Elaine wouldn't realize how much balls he had until she actually realized what the people around her were capable of though. Stepping in front of him, the woman snapped a quick salute.

"Sir!"

"Cut that shit out, meet Dragon Girl. She'll be your direct liaison for this mission. Captain, you're looking out for the rookie. D-G, you're looking out for these two, I imagine you've been briefed on YOUR orders.

He fired that last bit directly at D-G, grimacing at her briefly. He inhaled, standing at his full height.

These two are your backup. When you touch down, you move directly to whiskey, assess, locate, and if you need to destroy. All intel from here on out is on a need-to-know basis, strictly. So, you brief these two on what they need to know, when they need to know it. When you touch down, the fireteams will move to clear their objectives, but you three have your own. If D-G needs to fill you in on it, then she will do so in the field. I want you two on her ass like white on rice.  

He said, looking between the three.

"Clear?"

She glanced at the Captain, then the gargantuan woman, confused as hell, but not about to question her orders.

"Copy all, Sir..."

She said, standing at attention, and waiting to be dismissed.

Michael leaned up against the wall in the back of the room, quietly munching on a protein bar, as he listened to the briefing.  

As everyone muttered, most making jokes, some comments that bordered the line between a joke, and racism, and some showed an unhealthy amount of enthusiasm for the potential of killing some pirates, Michael remained nonchalant, eating away at his bar.  

It wasn’t until the plan was laid out, that Michael started to show concern, mostly, in the method of entry.  

As photos of the X5 wingsuits were shown, Michaels jaw tensed up, the very thought of being up in the air, where one wrong move could mean being reduced to a blood smear on the ground, made him incredibly uncomfortable.  

Granted, he has been forced to parachute into places, especially when the plane took heavy fire, but that only enforced his fears. Plus, each drop ended up with him either nearly passing out, or getting sick.

As the others were filing, out, he heard the Colonel call for him, apparently having a separate task for him, and two others.  

As he stepped up the front, his attention was first diverted to the tall lady that had arrived, her callsign Dragon Girl. She definitely looked tough, like, lift Michael over her head and fold him on her knee tough. He made a mental note not to piss her off.  

He then looked to the other girl, she was much smaller, clearly built for agility and speed, though he could see she was much stronger than her physique let on.  

He then turned back to the Colonel, hearing that he was merely acting as back up for the taller lady. This didn’t bother him, as it made sense to have the Black Hat take lead, given they had more intel on the OpFor.  

However, one thing needed to change. “One thing, Colonel...” Michael nodded to the strategy board. “It would be better if we went in by water, rather than dropping in with the primary strike force...” He could feel the Colonel about to reem into him, so he quickly added to his point. “If getting D-G here onto that ship is that vital to the mission, then we need to be discrete...” He motioned to the board. “You say the top deck is clear, but they would definitely have eyes watching the skies, and once we start dropping troops, they’re gonna scramble to counter-strike...” He looked to the other two. “Give us squad of men, a raft, and rappelling gear, we’ll go in before first light, with the storm covering our approach, and I can secure an LZ, and your drop team can land unnoticed.”

The Korean senior, a pencil pushing Rear Admiral, simply stayed quiet as the Americans outlined their plan of attack. Dragon Girl and the other officer talked in Korean at opportune times. Captain Stewart interjected and offered an alternate plan. It seemed he wanted to join the Koreans in the water. They checked their watches and the illumination outside. Night time and a moderate rain meant the ship could be approached with small assault craft.

Only when the room was vacated by the majority of the operators, Marine Corps Captain Seoh Park nodded to the Admiral beside him, who only then unlocked the briefcase that was cuffed to his wrist. He entered the code and brought out a small pile of pictures. Very interesting, very disturbing pictures. Park was the man who spoke up first. A veteran of indeterminate age, he spoke English well, and spoke on behalf of the bureaucrat with him. He addressed the agents directly, knowing it was they who had the highest probability of encountering these… things.

“The Korean Marines will be glad to have you on our boats. But there is something you must know.” Park started, as he laid out the photos.

“Captain Stewart, Miss Wolffe, what we are about to share… we have an agreement with Japan and the South East Asian nations to keep this information out of the public eye. For select eyes only, and today, including this carrier group operating in these waters.”

The pictures had to be seen twice, thrice, to be believed. It was difficult to absorb and comprehend the things to be real. The first photos were of sea life mutated somehow, like someone took a genetic blender and tossed sharks, squids and crustaceans and vomited out these pictures. Then human beings with some manner of skin deformity, turning into scales. Then there were up close autopsies of a brain slug victim, the back of their brains having been hollowed out. Then there was a silhouette of something with giant pincer claws, standing on two legs. More pictures followed of nightmarish, pelagic things, things that should belong on the movie screen, but these military men were presenting them deathly seriously.

“We have reason to believe ships in these waters are at risk of being targeted. Dragon Girl will make sure the waters are clear for your approach, then she will rejoin once everyone -sea and air teams- make it on the Lady Voyage.” Park then turned to June. “Private, your experience with these anomalies please.”

Dragon Girl finally came forward and spoke, with a remarkably good English accent. “Sir, ma'am. Because the anomalies emerge from the depths of the ocean, they are unused to fire, light and sounds. The humble flashbang is doubly effective in incapacitating them, which is important… when attacked from the front, their shell, if they have it, is capable of stopping almost all rounds below the 50 caliber. However, if you can outflank them, or approach while down, you can put a bullet or blade into their soft brain tissue… Here, and here.” She pointed out the weak spots in the carapaces, the gills and a spot in their rear necks. While terrifying, that June was teaching them how to be killed meant that these things were still mortal.

“There is no guarantee yet that we will encounter these anomalies, but the likelihood is there as we are in their region of activity. If you encounter an anomaly and I’m not present, you will need every advantage to take it down... If it's an even fight, running should be an option.” She concludes the weirdness briefing.

“Well. We’ll be waiting at our assault craft and leave soon. If you have any final questions, now’s the time to ask them.” Park finished.

Elaine stood at attention, listening to what was being said. When the room was cleared though, things got... Weird. The South Korean man unlocked his briefcase and started handing out pictures. Everyone seemed interested to look through, and yet Swainson didn't offer them even a precursory glance. Elaine noticed this, and as she flipped through the grotesque horror show, her knees became a little weak. Retching a bit as her brain sort of rejected what she was being shown.

"T-..The strike team doesn't know about this?"

She asked, considering her countryman first, even to the point of neglecting to realize there was a good chance she would be facing these creatures head on. A set of vibrant green eyes bounced between everyone, a clearly accusatory glare. She couldn't believe that they wouldn't make this information known to the people that were going out there expecting to fight bad guys with guns.

"Careful Specialist... You are under orders to keep your god damned mouth shut. If they encounter any of these abnormalities, they'll be updated, until then you're to follow your orders"

Amazingly enough, he relented just a bit, and elaborated

"This SHIT hits the fan, and we're looking at mass hysteria. Religious cults hiding in their god damned caves emboldened to start acting out, using these things as the lightning rod to the next god damn massacre... We're the good guys. And sometimes that entails making the hard choices... Now are you up for this soldier?

She looked at everyone again, stunned by what she had learned in the last two minutes. Though, she seemed to be the only one, as the others were already making their move for their respective Battle Groups. She composed herself, nodding, and Swainson got on her butt immediately for her indecisive action.

"My left ear's been shit since Vietnam, what was that Specialist?"

"Sir, Yes Sir.. Copy All.."

Elaine said loudly, proudly even... This had tarnished her view of what they did here though. She abhorred the idea of sending people into a place where they could possibly die at the hands of these... These Monsters. All the same, she turned on heel, moving to the door and heaving a few shaky breaths. She still had a job to do... She was having some difficulty still believing she might kill another human being today, and then they dropped this on her.

(Moments Later)

She had finished getting her night raid gear in order, most of the equipment was pre-modified with the best options for the task at hand, although... She noted, for bad guys with guns. Not God Damn ocean people... Looking briefly at the weapons amassed, she noted her time schedule and briskly walked over to the Sergeant at Arms.

"Hey I'm on that mission going out, you got anything heavier than .556? For uh... We might need to punch some armor.

The sergeant's suspcious look wasn't one of disdain, but more so curious if the loadouts he had slotted weren't good enough... He had been doing it for years. He glanced behind him, taking a few steps back. A dark man, that was huge, she almost wondered why it was he wasn't a grunt. Though most people that joined the military weren't mad enough to actually vie for front line service. Then there was her, who should've listened to her parents and been a veterinarian.

The large man returned with a Beowulf rifle, holding it up with one hand, and offering it to her over the counter. She held it, sliding her arm through the strap and looking over the weapon. Though, his curious gaze clearly held something back... He wanted to say something.

"What is it?"

"That thing you're holding right there has some serious kick, sure you got it? Shoots a fifty, don't try to shoot .556 with that receiver attached, you'll get yourself killed. Gotta Muzzle Brake for extra velocity, strobes, laser... IR toggle. Didn't have time to change out the sights, so you're stuck with that red dot, but its zeroed. What else you want, a hand cannon?

She observed the rifle, pulling the slide back partly, then letting it close with a satisfying clack.

Actually, yeah. If you've got a .50 back there. I'll need one of those too..."

She said, causing the large man to loose a baritone, rumbling laugh. Though, he turned and went off to find a dead stock Desert Eagle. Elaine quickly took off her holster belt, and returned it, finding one suitable for the new weapon and returning just as the ma was scribbling something on some papers. As she arrived, he stuck the weapon out through the fence, grip facing her. She took it, and holstered it, and he then handed her three loaded magazines for both weapons.

You must be psychic, Swainson just called down, said give you what you need... Those mags for the Beowulf are extended, fourteen rounds, but the Desert Eagle mags are standard. Anything else?

She glanced down then, noting her grenade bandolier built into her plate carrier was empty.

"Two Flashbangs, Two Incendiaries. I think that'll do it for me."

Elaine checked her watch... Six minutes. A further two would pass before he returned with the grenades, which she quickly placed and turned to begin the steady jog to the rear of the ship. This ship had an enclosed bay at the rear, which allowed for discreet loading, and unloading of troops and transport. Not to mention sped up the rate.

"Make a hole, excuse me... Make a hole!

She called out repeatedly, making her way to the ramp where D-G was awaiting her and the Captain.

Once again, Michaels jaw tensed, as he looked over the pictures.  

While the Specialist protested the idea of keeping secrets, especially from the other soldiers, Michael kept quiet, hearing out the Colonels response.  

When the Specialist walked off, Michael finally spoke up. “Under the pretense of this new information, Colonel, I am requesting to take lead on this operation...” He glanced over to Dragon Girl. “And I am going to request open access to any and all anti-armor ammunition, for the entire strike team...” As the Colonels attention snapped to him, baffled by his request, the Captain continued. “If you are going to send men into a fight blind, the least you can do make sure they are efficiently armed.”  



A few minutes later, Michael met with the rest of the men, including the Specialist, as they geared up.  

“Change of plans...” Michael called out. “New intel suggests the OpFor may be heavily armed, and armored, so access to anti-armor has been greenlit, load up on AP...” He walked up to the Sargeant at arms. “Get these boys outfitted with as much anti-armor as you got, plus flashbangs, and incendiaries.”  

“I don’t know what you told the Colonel, Cap...” The Sargeant at arms handed Michael a set of gear. “But they’ve all been loaded with AP, Beowulfs, and whatever else we got, you expecting a tank to roll onto the top deck or something?”  

Michael smirked to the Sargeant, loading up his gear. “Negative, Sargeant, just trying to stay ahead of the OpFor.” Unlike the rest of the men, who were in full black BDUs, with the MICH helmets, MOLLE Loadout vests, and the backpacks, Michael seemed a bit underdressed. He wore black work pants, with kneepads, sported an under-armor t-shirt, a lightweight plate carrier, and a beanie, with a small earpiece communicator, and a set of IR/NV goggles held on his head by straps. It was clear Michael worked in a different field, were not standing out as a soldier was a priority.  

After loading up, he looked over to the Specialist, giving her a wink, before walking out towards the raft.

USS CARL VINSON

June was a young and overly zealous soldier and did not notice or entertain social cues.

Since the ship was sailing east, night time came much too quickly, and the skies were rumbling with distant thunder. The Carl Vinson’s deck was sparsely lit, save for the spot where the Koreans were assembled. Speaking only a few words, the two senior officials salute the crack team and depart on a helicopter.

The platoon leader shakes Stewart’s and Wolffe’s hands, and welcome them down on the craft. June expedited her joining her team and jumped straight into the water.

The Korean commandos brought next generation small assault craft, the things quiet and stealthy on the water. The men were understandably armed with close quarter sub-machine guns and PDW’s, though they were absolutely paranoid- or knew something the others didn’t- seeing as they all had their combat knives strapped to the front of their chests. Seating a dozen each, these transports cut through the sea quick and quiet, not even armed, though light enough to be paddle powered.

Minutes go by, and the Carl Vinson is no longer in sight. The Lady Voyage shone like a beacon in the dark open ocean. Once they were within a certain distance of the cruise ship the skies had begun to really pour down, the seas choppier than ever. Anyone with motion sickness might find the experience unpleasant.

“I’ll go first.” June goes into the water with a swimming dive, and quickly disappears into the dark. A few minutes pass, and the water ahead churns with implied violence at certain points. There was definitely something unnatural about freshly killed sea life floating up, and even more unnatural how a shark might have some crustacean carapace or a giant squid with crab pincers. The reason for the commandos already having knives out was made apparent when some strange sea slug-like creatures began crawling out the bodies and climbing up the side of the assault craft. Briefed as they were, they were extra careful not to let any approach them, and the commandos made doubly sure to keep two men in reserve for any that might make it onboard and onto someone’s face.
At the cruise ship, June finds a clear deck and climbs aboard, digging small holes into the hull with her bare fingers. Once she made sure the spot was okay, she drops a couple of rope ladders down the side she climbed up on, then flashed a light at the assault craft, signaling them to approach.
Approaching under cover of rain and night, the assault craft make it to the cruise ship’s side with no incident. For now it was quiet, save for the pounding rain and the choppy waves.

The Korean commandos rapidly climb the ladders, like sailors on shore leave. Despite having two rope ladders they add two more, climbing up four at a time- the reason being apparent when, the last barely gets onboard, gigantic tentacles emerge from the water, crushing and dragging the assault craft below.

THE LADY VOYAGE

“Contact.” A Commando signed, one of the terrorists from the broadcast stood guard in the lit hallway, wearing attire similar to that hit Netflix show from some years back, including masked faces. Their brightly colored jumpsuits, standing still and facing out to the ocean, all made them easy targets. Far too easy, as unknown to the raid team the terrorists had pulled a switch gambit and dressed up the hostages as members of the cult, and tied them to the railing to draw fire from overly eager snipers.

“Something is off.” June signed the team. The terrorists were too comedically inept in guarding the hallway. Too easy to pick off. She would be a bit slow to volunteer though.