Operation: Stingray Ch. 3: --Desperation pt. 2--
Posted By: Nick Kang<digitai430@yahoo.com>
Date: 9 April 2004, 4:28 PM
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1300 HOURS(HUMAN MILITARY TIME)
AUGUST 2, 2552(HUMAN MILITARY CALENDAR)
SAINT JOSEPH BEACH, FLORIDA
The sight of the giant ocean Cruiser drifting beneath the calm surf kindled a spark in Bradley's gut. The spark soon grew into a blaze that rivaled that of the hellish inferno that populated the forest not too far away. But before he could turn around and unload his assault rifle into the two Banshees, he heard the sound of two rockets leaving their tubes and two explosions in quick succession. Two smoking, gutted Banshee carcasses soared above his head and splashed into the water, floating for a split second and then sinking beneath the water. The two Elite drivers floated on the water, their dead, beady eyes staring ceaselessly into the heavens.
Dallano 'Rootamee heard the radio beep. He tore his gaze from the hypnotic spectacle of fire and strode toward the purple box sitting on the dirt ground not too far away. The computer sticking out of it flashed as a radio transmission came in. 'Rootamee pressed one of the glowing purple symbols on the control panel and the speakers filled with static.
"Sir, this is scout group number one!" the Banshee pilot on the other end screamed. Frantic COM chatter could be heard in the background, along with the staccato rattling of machine guns and plasma cannons. "We have discovered the Human LZ! We're facing heavy resistance! We need reinf—" static suddenly washed over the COM channel and the radio went dead.
'Rootamee quickly tapped several symbols and held his hand down on a sensor.
"Come in Scout group number one!" he yelled into one of the many speakers connected to the purple cube, "Do you read me? Scout group number one come in!" he released the symbol and static filled the speakers. 'Rootamee sighed and listened to the white noise, waiting for a pilot to answer—if a pilot answered. At one point he thought he could hear a faint cry for help, but it was gone within half a second. Having finally giving up on the lost cause, 'Rootamee slammed his fist down on the computer keypad and gave a cry of rage. The Humans would pay.
Mottrie 'Uzukamee leveled his Needler and bellowed a war cry before charging off into the mist, closely followed by the four Brutes. 'Uzukamee tapped a symbol on his wrist plate three times as he ran and a visor slid over his face. The world suddenly became very colorful and confusing under the thermal imager. Off in the distance, there were eleven pinpricks of red in the mist. They were most likely the Humans that had killed the Grunts' recon group. They would pay for their actions. Dearly.
'Uzukamee heard mud splashing against his shin armor with every step. He heard the Brutes' heavy breathing and thunderous footsteps. Such noises would interfere with his hearing. He had to know whether or not enemies were present, and to do so, he would have to hear them. The thermal visor would prove useless in the woods with all of the strange Earth animals running about. He stopped and held up his hand, signaling for the Brutes to stop. He swept the area with his needler, tension mounting in his gut. His grip tightened on the needler, preparing to kill anything that jumped out.
Corporal Tyler Benson gasped for breath as his squad ran. Those Brutes would pulverize all eleven of them without breaking a sweat. It was probably a good idea to fall back to the LZ where there were proper defenses suited for taking out Brutes. But if the Covenant continued pursuit, there was no way to reach the LZ in time before the behemoths were upon them. Benson was so deep in thought that he nearly tripped over the pile of Covenant bodies stacked up from where his snipers had killed them. They still had faint heat signatures emanating from them. Suddenly, Benson had an idea.
"This is Special Forces Platoon-011. We have come under Covenant attack and have lost our Naval vessel. Request replacement. Repeat, requesting Naval replecement. Over." Bradley released the radio button and static boomed out of the speaker. It was several seconds before a response came. It was plagued with static outbreaks and gunfire and explosions could be heard in the background.
"Roger SFP-011! This is UNSC Frigate Mayflower in company of naval convoy three!" the speaker had to shout over the sounds of battle in the background, "We're under heavy attack by Covenant air units right now, but as soon as we fight 'em off, we'll come an' getcha. That may be a while considering how many Covie bastards are on us n-" the radio went dead. Bradley held the button again and repeated,
"Come in Mayflower. Mayflower?" Bradley gave up and sighed. Naval convoy three didn't have his platoon's coordinates. They'd never be able to drop ooff reinforcements. It seemed they were cut off from the rest of the world.
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