Post by Adam Byron on Jun 18, 2012 13:54:32 GMT -5
Even with the sun down the temperature didn't drop. The air with thick with humidity. There was no wind dancing through the trees. All this combined made the area feel like a dark dirty insect filled sauna. Thankfully the mosquitoes and yellow flies had left Adam Byron alone earlier in the day. He figured that they didn't like the taste of his sweat and blood. His boots were water logged and caked with mud. The soup threatened to rob him of his foot wear with each step taken. His trousers were soaked through chilling his lower body. Apparently the leeches had the same opinion of him as the other blood sucking vermin. The water barely rippled as he slowly weaved between the tupelo and cypress. The Spanish moss gave the swamp a primeval feeling. As did the living fossils known to cruise the local water ways.
Rumors had been going around about the radical hate group Humans First. That they had set up operations within the swamp. Gathering their strength and raising capital for a large push into the city. To secure a larger more permanent foothold within the concrete jungle. Such a daring move coupled with the violence that would ensue would probably result a large spike in recruiting. The department required hard evidence before a case could be built for such an investigation. A location and video footage would be enough. Unfortunately there were no special response teams quite ready enough for the assignment. Use of local residents was out the question given the PD's budget right now. Various media groups had their every move monitored under a magnifying glass. On top of it all a number of them were probably members of HF or closely monitored and more than likely coerced into cooperation. Few officers within the local PD were experienced enough or willing to take such an assignment. With a limited number of cards on the table to use he only had one option left. Venture into the swamp himself.
The long hike, the occasional swimming, and the need for stealth required him to travel light. No real heavy weaponry or armor in this engagement. Everything carried now was meant for speed, destruction, and death. He did settle for a simple olive drab plate carrier. The adoption of the simple armor had saved him a lot of time and money by preventing him from having to salvage organs. A helmet wasn't worn. It was a little too hot and uncomfortable. Didn't help break up the outline of his body either. A simple field dressing bandage tied into a bandana kept sweat from running into his eyes. His face was smeared with green and tan paint. With a few black stripes cutting across parts of his face. The [url=http://arniesairsoft.co.uk/news2/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/MAC%2010%20Stock%20out.jpg
]10mm Mac-10[/url] he was fond of seemed almost toy like cradled in his massive hands. Not looking nearly as formidable as either of the 10mm Smith and Wesson revolvers he carried. The larger of the two riding on his hip. It's little brother lashed to his calf submerged beneath the black water. The front of his plate carrier was loaded down with magazines. A large [url=http://i1250.photobucket.com/albums/hh524/plan138/P2060341.jpg
]push knife[/url] rested on the upper shoulder strap of the armor. Angle to where it almost looked like it would slash his throat if drawn. The trench knife he carried during the world wars was lashed beneath the magazines on his belly.
Incendiary grenades, couple special depth charge grenades and block of composition four cut into eight ball charges littered the web gear on his lower back. Between his shoulders a few utility pouches carried bottled water, Cliff bars, and a small trauma kit. A tomahawk somehow found a niche between them. Always ever so conscious of the fact that while his night vision was just slightly better than the average human the last part of his kit reflected it. Two high intensity flashlights for his weapons. A set of NVGs were stashed in a pouch on the side plate of his armor. IR chem lights to mark the path back to civilization next to them. The only item he carried that had no role what so ever in combat was a small video surveillance device mounted to his shoulder. Two lens were set to continuously record both footage of the area he traveled in standard and FLIR viewing. A GPS program also established check points for an established route to the objective once found and marked.
A few dim beams of light managed to penetrate through the brush. As he got closer the faint sound of music drifted on the air. Small patches of land started to rise above the fetid waters. The faint outline of buildings slowly broke into view. He could pick out the straight cypress timbers and line of the rusted tin rooftop. A few propane lanterns were suspended at various points. Providing some light, but not casting away the shadows. This was probably one of many Humans First compounds. A virtual shanty town concealed in the thick overgrown heart of the swamp. Ducking behind a large cypress stump he peeked above the moss covered top. Mischievous laughter and stifled giggling could be heard. Along with a soft muffled groan which was followed with a shriek. A low sizzling noise also materialized. Prior experience told him the group consisted of three to four adult males and one restrained captive. The smell of burning flesh drifted over toward him. [glow=red,2,300]"She's wake now. Might as well get a little more use of this leech before the night is over. Maybe not warm, but nice and tight..."[/glow] The gruff voice was followed by the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.
There were four of them as he predicted. Middle aged males. All of them drunk, filthy, and reeking of methamphetamine. Partially covered by grease stained denim and thread bare cotton. Another muffled shriek followed by the sizzling noise and low moan of horror. A beaten bloody naked female was tied belly down onto an old end table with thick gauge wire. The lower part of her face was wrapped tight with duct tape. One of the men, an obese bearded fellow with his pants around his ankles, was slowly rocking behind her. The rest were clustered around the table. Making deep ragged cuts on the girl's back stopping to watch them heal. One of them pressed a small cross to the side of her face. She shrieked again as it seared undead flesh. One took a swig of water from a clear jar and spat it onto her back. The droplets burst into blue flame than ran down her shoulders onto her sides and arms. Vampire, he thought, not human, but not deserving of this. His mind raced trying to formulate a plan to put stop to the atrocity taking place before him. He would have to kill them all quickly and quietly to prevent anyone else in the area from being alerted. If one of them screamed or managed to escape it would bring the others down onto him. Also result in the killing of any other captives and destruction of anything else they might be hiding.
A controlled burst or two sweeping the deck would do the trick. Even with the suppressed sub-machine gun there was no way he could get all from his current position. He would have to either move closer and change up the angle of attack. Slowly he eased himself down into the dark water and started to ease toward the deck. Sound of flesh against flesh stopped. The first rapist let out a low guttural sound of satisfaction. The sound of his boots stomping against the wood told Adam he was walking to the edge of the desk. Adam slipped back underneath the structure between the support beams. The sound of water trickling into the swamp and smell of urine told him the man had arrived. There was a grunt and the noise started again. A heavy length of chain dangled over the edge of the hand rail dangerously close to the water. A wicked looking gaff hook was tied to the end of it. Letting the sub-machine gun dangle onto it's sling he reached out and seized it. He levered himself up out of the water and up the beam right as the man turned around. He drove the barbed piece of steel deep into the man's skull and pulled back hurling him down into the swamp below. Death was instant. Little of the body would be left over by morning with all the snapping turtles, crayfish, and alligators. Much less found by any of the HF men.
Quickly he brought the MAC-10 back into position and delivered four quick controlled bursts. Cutting across the area in a chest high horizontal sweep. A sizable puff of red mist erupted from the chests of the two standing. They hit the floor simultaneously with a dull thump. The second rapist's head had exploded making him unidentifiable and his corpse slumped to it's knees before falling backwards. He approached their captive with the weapon's muzzle up scanning the nearby door and corners. A large bowl sat on the deck beneath her head. Dark crimson liquid spewed continuously from her throat. A bloody kitchen knife was clenched into the hand of one of the men. Small blue flames still danced along her body. Pulling a water bottle from the pouch on his back he emptied the contents onto her extinguishing what was left of the flames. Drawing the trench knife he cut through her bonds and sliced the tape from her face. Doesn't look too good. Might make it though, he thought gently rolling her off the table before easing her to the ground. Reaching over he snapped one of the human's legs at the shin before twisting and ripping it off. Holding the bloody stump over the vampire's face he wrung it as he would a wet towel drizzling the blood into her open mouth. It was the best he could do for now. His current mission still took priority over the life of the vampire. If the mission failed there was no telling how many more would die.
Rising to his feet he scanned his surroundings trying to decide where to go next. Each shack seemed to be connected by rickety walk ways and bridges. The lanterns were strung up every twenty feet. They seemed to trail off into the distance before disappearing into the swamp or around more crude buildings. More music could be heard. Along with a few low voices. No telling how many were out on this compound. He couldn't imagine how many more there were in the swamp all together. Intel was probably right. They were up to something. Something big. Turning his attention back to the men he conducted a soft search for weaponry. He made a mental inventory before slowly turning letting the camera record the layout as well. A few folding knives, a set of brass knuckles, two cheap 9mm pistols, and one .32 caliber revolver. Two cell phones, a couple packs of cigarettes, a small glass pipe, and a sandwich bag half full of methamphetamine. Strange enough there were several small plastic bags filled with a black crystallized substance. They were wrapped up in the second rapist's pocket with several small syringes and a dirty spoon. He also placed their driver's licenses out in a row to identify them as well. Time to move on, he thought. Sweeping the contents up into a dirty towel he gathered it up into a loose bundle before dropping it into the shadows behind an old lawn chair sitting nearby.
He had six hours before daylight. There was no way to know when the four men would be missed. Swapping out the half empty magazine in his weapon for a fresh one he peered around the corner of the building out across the dark walk way. It was forty feet to the next building. A heavy chain and pad lock secured the door. The other voices he had heard were farther off in the distance. There was a good chance the vampire wasn't the only captive they were holding. Their rescue now became part of the mission. A secondary objective though. He still had to find out what HF was scheming. Raising the weapon he slowly started walking toward the decrepit shack.
Rumors had been going around about the radical hate group Humans First. That they had set up operations within the swamp. Gathering their strength and raising capital for a large push into the city. To secure a larger more permanent foothold within the concrete jungle. Such a daring move coupled with the violence that would ensue would probably result a large spike in recruiting. The department required hard evidence before a case could be built for such an investigation. A location and video footage would be enough. Unfortunately there were no special response teams quite ready enough for the assignment. Use of local residents was out the question given the PD's budget right now. Various media groups had their every move monitored under a magnifying glass. On top of it all a number of them were probably members of HF or closely monitored and more than likely coerced into cooperation. Few officers within the local PD were experienced enough or willing to take such an assignment. With a limited number of cards on the table to use he only had one option left. Venture into the swamp himself.
The long hike, the occasional swimming, and the need for stealth required him to travel light. No real heavy weaponry or armor in this engagement. Everything carried now was meant for speed, destruction, and death. He did settle for a simple olive drab plate carrier. The adoption of the simple armor had saved him a lot of time and money by preventing him from having to salvage organs. A helmet wasn't worn. It was a little too hot and uncomfortable. Didn't help break up the outline of his body either. A simple field dressing bandage tied into a bandana kept sweat from running into his eyes. His face was smeared with green and tan paint. With a few black stripes cutting across parts of his face. The [url=http://arniesairsoft.co.uk/news2/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/MAC%2010%20Stock%20out.jpg
]10mm Mac-10[/url] he was fond of seemed almost toy like cradled in his massive hands. Not looking nearly as formidable as either of the 10mm Smith and Wesson revolvers he carried. The larger of the two riding on his hip. It's little brother lashed to his calf submerged beneath the black water. The front of his plate carrier was loaded down with magazines. A large [url=http://i1250.photobucket.com/albums/hh524/plan138/P2060341.jpg
]push knife[/url] rested on the upper shoulder strap of the armor. Angle to where it almost looked like it would slash his throat if drawn. The trench knife he carried during the world wars was lashed beneath the magazines on his belly.
Incendiary grenades, couple special depth charge grenades and block of composition four cut into eight ball charges littered the web gear on his lower back. Between his shoulders a few utility pouches carried bottled water, Cliff bars, and a small trauma kit. A tomahawk somehow found a niche between them. Always ever so conscious of the fact that while his night vision was just slightly better than the average human the last part of his kit reflected it. Two high intensity flashlights for his weapons. A set of NVGs were stashed in a pouch on the side plate of his armor. IR chem lights to mark the path back to civilization next to them. The only item he carried that had no role what so ever in combat was a small video surveillance device mounted to his shoulder. Two lens were set to continuously record both footage of the area he traveled in standard and FLIR viewing. A GPS program also established check points for an established route to the objective once found and marked.
A few dim beams of light managed to penetrate through the brush. As he got closer the faint sound of music drifted on the air. Small patches of land started to rise above the fetid waters. The faint outline of buildings slowly broke into view. He could pick out the straight cypress timbers and line of the rusted tin rooftop. A few propane lanterns were suspended at various points. Providing some light, but not casting away the shadows. This was probably one of many Humans First compounds. A virtual shanty town concealed in the thick overgrown heart of the swamp. Ducking behind a large cypress stump he peeked above the moss covered top. Mischievous laughter and stifled giggling could be heard. Along with a soft muffled groan which was followed with a shriek. A low sizzling noise also materialized. Prior experience told him the group consisted of three to four adult males and one restrained captive. The smell of burning flesh drifted over toward him. [glow=red,2,300]"She's wake now. Might as well get a little more use of this leech before the night is over. Maybe not warm, but nice and tight..."[/glow] The gruff voice was followed by the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.
There were four of them as he predicted. Middle aged males. All of them drunk, filthy, and reeking of methamphetamine. Partially covered by grease stained denim and thread bare cotton. Another muffled shriek followed by the sizzling noise and low moan of horror. A beaten bloody naked female was tied belly down onto an old end table with thick gauge wire. The lower part of her face was wrapped tight with duct tape. One of the men, an obese bearded fellow with his pants around his ankles, was slowly rocking behind her. The rest were clustered around the table. Making deep ragged cuts on the girl's back stopping to watch them heal. One of them pressed a small cross to the side of her face. She shrieked again as it seared undead flesh. One took a swig of water from a clear jar and spat it onto her back. The droplets burst into blue flame than ran down her shoulders onto her sides and arms. Vampire, he thought, not human, but not deserving of this. His mind raced trying to formulate a plan to put stop to the atrocity taking place before him. He would have to kill them all quickly and quietly to prevent anyone else in the area from being alerted. If one of them screamed or managed to escape it would bring the others down onto him. Also result in the killing of any other captives and destruction of anything else they might be hiding.
A controlled burst or two sweeping the deck would do the trick. Even with the suppressed sub-machine gun there was no way he could get all from his current position. He would have to either move closer and change up the angle of attack. Slowly he eased himself down into the dark water and started to ease toward the deck. Sound of flesh against flesh stopped. The first rapist let out a low guttural sound of satisfaction. The sound of his boots stomping against the wood told Adam he was walking to the edge of the desk. Adam slipped back underneath the structure between the support beams. The sound of water trickling into the swamp and smell of urine told him the man had arrived. There was a grunt and the noise started again. A heavy length of chain dangled over the edge of the hand rail dangerously close to the water. A wicked looking gaff hook was tied to the end of it. Letting the sub-machine gun dangle onto it's sling he reached out and seized it. He levered himself up out of the water and up the beam right as the man turned around. He drove the barbed piece of steel deep into the man's skull and pulled back hurling him down into the swamp below. Death was instant. Little of the body would be left over by morning with all the snapping turtles, crayfish, and alligators. Much less found by any of the HF men.
Quickly he brought the MAC-10 back into position and delivered four quick controlled bursts. Cutting across the area in a chest high horizontal sweep. A sizable puff of red mist erupted from the chests of the two standing. They hit the floor simultaneously with a dull thump. The second rapist's head had exploded making him unidentifiable and his corpse slumped to it's knees before falling backwards. He approached their captive with the weapon's muzzle up scanning the nearby door and corners. A large bowl sat on the deck beneath her head. Dark crimson liquid spewed continuously from her throat. A bloody kitchen knife was clenched into the hand of one of the men. Small blue flames still danced along her body. Pulling a water bottle from the pouch on his back he emptied the contents onto her extinguishing what was left of the flames. Drawing the trench knife he cut through her bonds and sliced the tape from her face. Doesn't look too good. Might make it though, he thought gently rolling her off the table before easing her to the ground. Reaching over he snapped one of the human's legs at the shin before twisting and ripping it off. Holding the bloody stump over the vampire's face he wrung it as he would a wet towel drizzling the blood into her open mouth. It was the best he could do for now. His current mission still took priority over the life of the vampire. If the mission failed there was no telling how many more would die.
Rising to his feet he scanned his surroundings trying to decide where to go next. Each shack seemed to be connected by rickety walk ways and bridges. The lanterns were strung up every twenty feet. They seemed to trail off into the distance before disappearing into the swamp or around more crude buildings. More music could be heard. Along with a few low voices. No telling how many were out on this compound. He couldn't imagine how many more there were in the swamp all together. Intel was probably right. They were up to something. Something big. Turning his attention back to the men he conducted a soft search for weaponry. He made a mental inventory before slowly turning letting the camera record the layout as well. A few folding knives, a set of brass knuckles, two cheap 9mm pistols, and one .32 caliber revolver. Two cell phones, a couple packs of cigarettes, a small glass pipe, and a sandwich bag half full of methamphetamine. Strange enough there were several small plastic bags filled with a black crystallized substance. They were wrapped up in the second rapist's pocket with several small syringes and a dirty spoon. He also placed their driver's licenses out in a row to identify them as well. Time to move on, he thought. Sweeping the contents up into a dirty towel he gathered it up into a loose bundle before dropping it into the shadows behind an old lawn chair sitting nearby.
He had six hours before daylight. There was no way to know when the four men would be missed. Swapping out the half empty magazine in his weapon for a fresh one he peered around the corner of the building out across the dark walk way. It was forty feet to the next building. A heavy chain and pad lock secured the door. The other voices he had heard were farther off in the distance. There was a good chance the vampire wasn't the only captive they were holding. Their rescue now became part of the mission. A secondary objective though. He still had to find out what HF was scheming. Raising the weapon he slowly started walking toward the decrepit shack.
She has some kick in her, so she's not a complete damsel in distress. | 