Five Times the Chaos: Operation Prometheus Part V

Operation Prometheus. August 26, 2084. Local Time: 2:30 AM. Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Status: [REDACTED]

Instinctively, I jump back into the brush, peeking back around to locate the source of the gunshots. Through the branches and leaves, I can see very little, except for the floodlights that sweep across the forest. At this point, I'm really regretting losing my NODs earlier. I swing my primary up and flip the safety back off. 

"Two o'clock, high!" Kelly calls out in typical WSO fashion. I swivel to the left and find... nothing. 

"Picture clear," I growl, as another burst of gunfire rips past my ear. I hear the faint hiss of a smoke grenade just as a massive cloud billows in front of me. If I couldn't see before, I definitely can't see now. I swing back out of the brush, slinking behind the cover of the bushes and trees. Vaguely, I recognize Boyd's outline a couple of feet up the way. I make my way up to him, being careful not to expose myself to enemy fire. The gunfire continues relentlessly-I'm almost certain that there's at least one LMG-type weapon being utilized by the hostiles. 

"I got one in the tower, and a couple on the ridgeline," Boyd explains, lobbing a grenade through the forest. I toggle the thermal sight on my rifle. It's not as good as the NODs, but at least I won't be fully blind. I lay a few shots on the bandit in the tower, but as expected, they do little to no damage. "Yeah, it's a whole damn pillbox in the air," Boyd remarks, fumbling around with his belt. "Nasty work." I couldn't agree more. The worst thing about it is that's where the LMG is, meaning we're going to be dealing with suppression fire for a very long time. 

Suddenly, I hear the distinctive sound of helicopter blades from the airfield. "There's no way," I moan, but in reality, this makes perfect sense. I don't know why I was expecting this island to be as heavily guarded as it was and not have any air vehicle elements contributing to its defense. Especially when there's an airfield here with all manner of military aircraft. The helicopter's searchlights illuminate the forest. 

"That helo's our ticket out of this mess," I tell Boyd, gesturing animatedly. 

"Mag-dumping ain't gonna do jack to that thing," Boyd notes, ducking as another burst of gunfire rips into the brush. I look back to the sky. If I had to guess based on the size of the lights, it's around three-quarters of a mile away, and for now, it's just meandering slowly to our general location. 

"It's a helicopter, Boyd. They aren't exactly great at defending against small-arms fire." Another burst of gunfire causes a branch to fall from a tree. Those shots are getting closer and closer to us.

"Boss, that's some pretty real-deal armor on that thing. Definitely been customized." I squint back at the helicopter. Still, all I can see are its navigation and searchlights. "I have a few AP mags, but I don't buy that it's going to do much." I turn my rifle on the helicopter, using the thermal scope to get a better view. The helicopter is extremely well-armored. It is abundantly clear that additional armor has been fastened to the aircraft, which would explain why it's moving so damn slowly. If I didn't know better, judging by the shape of it, I'd say the aircraft was one of those old pre-Balkan UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters.

I crawl back through the undergrowth to link up with Kelly, who is using her sniper pretty effectively. She's got something tarped over the barrel of the weapon to hide the muzzle flash, at least a little bit. "Tally two," she hisses. Noticing me out of the corner of her eye, she briefly mentions something about my needing to go back and help cover Boyd. "They don't know I'm here yet," she points out, as the gunfire continues to shred the forest around Boyd. Silently, I point up to the helicopter. She shifts the sniper rifle once again. 

"Aim for the swashplate," I suggest. I do my best to spot Kelly, but without a spotting scope, it's pretty tricky. The fact that I'm doing the actual spotting with a holographic thermal sight isn't helping either. 

"Miss," Kelly hisses, adjusting once again.

"Ballpark... maybe fifteen hundred, fourteen hundred feet? Looks like about a half-mile away, closing at maybe fifteen, twenty knots?" I call out. She fires again. I notice the helicopter shuddering a little, but the pilot manages to stabilize it. "Getting closer, that's good." I make my callouts again, before Kelly takes a third shot. This time, she nails it. The helicopter begins spiraling out of control, before it finally crashes into a massive fireball on the ridgeline. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

"That's it," Kelly notes, as she begins to pack up the sniper. "We're getting outta here. Overlord and Provost can go straight to hell."