Gregory P. Wong
Yee-hah! Time to move! Mao charged forward, his knife drawn. He had modded his knife and electro-genetic structure so his knife took the form of totally badass Wolverine claws. His AK could wait. This was gonna be great. His team would give him back up as he raped their asses with his totally leet AK-47.
"Uh oh, there goes our poor Mao," sighed MasterShafter. "Metalslug is going to shank his ass off. Or maybe he'll be saved the humiliation and just get shot in the back. Or-"
"Storm the front, boys!" yelled Solza. The was a chorus of "Rogers!" as the heavily armed terrorist teams took off for their designated routes. Nox, Sceadu and Bizzly ran for the double doors at the end of the deep ramp that led to CT homespawn. Bizzly, in the lead with a SIG 552, was through the doors first.
He knew there was no one there and-
Metalslug hastily shifted aim as the first Phoenix terrorist went down. Maybe he had enough time to mow down the others...
Meanwhile, Smoke beckoned the other CTs to hold their position at Long and Short A routes. The idiots wouldn't get crap past him and his team. He took a look around. Damn. Stupid Metalslug had left the team. Oh well, his funeral. The 2kings, Rudy, and Incognito were holding Long A while the rest of them hovered on top of A and Short. No way was A being bombed...
/SHIT/! Some CT with a UMP had just blown off Bizzly's head. Nox cursed again and shifted aim to the right as he leaped past the doors. In the air, he didn't have accuracy worth a rat's ass, but if could just get enough time too...
The reports of a submachine gun turned to dry clicks as the magazine ran dry.
But not before Nox also went to the Dead Zone as the bullets pounded into his body.
"Damn!" snarled Sceadu as he wheeled around. He aligned the muzzle of his AK and punched 7.62mm slugs into the CT's chest. Dammit, two down already! Oh well, it looked like his team hadn't been fired upon in the tunnel... so it wouldn't be all that bad. He rushed to meet up with Solza and the main force. He took a look at CT homespawn. Weird... no one home. And he couldn't see anyone by A either... Hmm...
Maybe he should take a look. Solza and the others wouldn't have problems. Sceadu ran off for a peek at Bomb A.
At the same time, Mao, who hadn't looked behind him or checked his wristwatch radar, was madly rushing Long A. Omigod, it was gonna be a fugging bloodbath! All those heads waiting to be popped and... oh yeah.
The arch to exit Long A pass was coming up... ooh yeah. Mao drew his AK from his back and turned to the right of the exit. Whoa! CT alert! Whole shitload of them too! He stopped, tapped out a double-burst from his weapon, and scrambled for cover behind the box that stood right in front of Long A exit. Phew. He took a peek. One CT was down with a good part of his head missing, but there were at least four more behind the corpse. Now time for the team to take some heat off and... huh?
What the shit? Where were they?
/Clink clink clink clink/.
Four little cylindrical thingies bounced onto the ground no more than three feet from him. They were gray and had little red stripes on them. Hmm. One said "From Turkey Bacon with love!"
Then below that it said... High Explosive Device.
Oh fucking shi-
Ouchies. Rudy didn't envy the Avenger terrorist who had just gotten splattered all over Long A. That was a lot of explosives on one spot. Well, at least DC had been avenged. The poor GIGN had had his face carved out by bullets. Hmm... Better take a look around the exit to make sure no more Ts popped out
Rudy ran forward and assumed a shooting crouch as he got to the exit. Huh? Weird. No on followed the Avenger guy. Hmm...
Rudy looked behind him. The terrorist-well, what had been a T, since he looked like canned dogfood now-had been carrying an AK... and that was it. Maybe...
He looked at the ID patch on the tattered jacket. It couldn't be...
[UCD]Chairman Mao!? No way! Rudy trembled a bit as he bent down and picked up the AK-47 of the Chairman.
/Holy crap/, thought Rudy, /Mao's AK. I feel the POWER/!
"Uh, Rudy?" Rudy heard someone say behind him.
"Quit spazzing out over the AK and move your ass. Smoke said to go through their spawn and head for B."
"Oh, roger that."
"Go, go, go!"
While the five remaining Long A teammates moved off, Smoke scratched his head. From their ambush positions, his CTs sure as hell had to see the lone Leet Krew running towards them like a total idiot. But just to be sure...
"Enemy spotted," he whispered into his radio.
"Roger that! Go, go, go!" he heard Toaster bellow out over the communications net.
"Negative! Negative! Hold your position!" he screamed. Dear Lord, if Toaster screwed this over...
He almost slapped his foreheard when he heard Brave lil Toaster bawl at the top of his lungs and rush the Krew from his hiding spot near the box-crevice at spawn. Whoever it was, he had good reactions. The Krew spun and punctured Toaster's throat with a trio of shots. Hot damn.
Smoke got out from cover and tapped out shots at the Krew. The terrorist moved to the right, out of range. Damn, he was sure he'd gotten a solid hit...
Billy and Bar also broke cover and advanced down. Bar was glad that Billy was in the lead. Shields were good diversions. He could so get a kill if Little Billy could draw out the Krew that had toasted Toaster.
Bar followed the shield-man down into CT homespawn. Where could the-
He heard a rustle. Oh--
Little Billy jumped as he heard automatic AK fire sound off to his right. Vaguely he say Bar clutch at his innards as the other CT toppled to the floor. Crapcrapcrap.
Billy brought up his shield and was saved as bullets ricocheted off the steel plate. The Krew that had been camping in the back right corner of spawn jumped up from hsi crouch and started running at him. Oh crap, the T would be able to flank him and shoot his back. Damn fucking shield was so heavy and fat and-
/Crack/! The Krew stumbled back, blood splattering into the air. Then the terrorist dropped to his knees and fell forward. Holy crap, there was a fist-sized exit wound in that guy.
Oh jeez, thank bob for snipers with scouts.
Behind the suddenly relieved Billy, Smoke groaned. That had almost turned into a disaster. Damn. Oh, well, it could have been frigging worse. Four CTs were down, versus four Ts dead. They could do this.
His wrist PDA beeped. "The bomb has been planted!" blipped the device
"Team, scratch the original plan. We're going to assault double doors at B. The 2Kings group will handle the tunnel. Go, go, go!"
"My team's gay," complained Mao. "I told 'em to rush Long A, but noooo, my ass was all alone. That's so not funny."
He and seven others floated above the battlefield, watching the collection of characters running this way and that. Glowing text floating above their heads showed their names.
"Hah hah Mao," laughed DC. "You deserved that, you SOB. You shot me in the face."
Mao just shook his head and watched the galumphing fighters below him.
"Jesus. Rudy looks like he's going to wet himself," Mao said to himself. Jeez, "Balderdash" was always looked to own him, but damn, stealing his magical AK too? What the hell?
Bar-Leby looked at Sceadu in annoyance. "Hey, man, there was a shield guy in front of me. Why shoot at me?"
Sceadu grinned. "Heh man. It's all tactics. I was going to try to shoot you both in the back as you ran past my spot, but I fucked it up. Damn Billy and his gay-ass shield."
"Uh... I saw what happened Sceadu. Quiksilver shot you, not Billy," put in Nox. "You got sniped."
Sceadu just let out a sigh of exasperation. "I hate snipers."
"You have one of the better server ones on your team, so shutdafugup."
"Fuck you, Nox. You're next on my shitlist." Sceadu gave a laugh to show he was joking.
"Yeah. Heh. Do your worst 'Seadoo'."
They laughed and watched the rest of the round unfold.
"Dum de dum de dum," hummed Churchill. Hmm... the scout was getting heavy. Shift a bit and... dum de dum de dum. He was back watching the double doors from spawn just like little ole Solza had told him to. But he wasn't coming back to B anytime soon. Screw those guys. Let them all die and whatever, and he could clean up or pull off one of those amazing saves he always managed to do. He yawned.
Dum de dum de dum de--
"Crap," he sighed as he saw assorted flashes of CT colors fly past the door. Sometimes it sucked to have the All-Seeing Scope. He clicked his radio. "Enemy spotted. Heading up from CT spawn," he said lazily. "Hold your positions."
The sniper assumed a firing crouch and brought the Steyr to his shoulder. Hmm... The CTs look intent on going for Bomb B doors. Oh well. Wait. Hmm. One guy with a scout...
He snapped the crosshair over the SEALs forehead, gave a little bit of lead, and squeezed the trigger gently. One rule for snipers: never jerk the trigger. That led to misalignment.
Of course, just like MJ--Jordan, not Jackson, dear God--shot true, the bullet flew straight, right into the CT's forehead.
"Boom, headshot," Churchill said, minus the inflection of the legendary FPS Doug. "Take that, ya poontang."
He worked the bolt of the scout and brought the scout back into firing position. He looked at the thoroughly dead SEAL. Crap. The shot had been off like an inch to the right. Fudge it. Perfection only existed in the mind of Allah. Or whatever Muslims always said.
News looked good so far. Only Sceadu, Bizzly, Nox, and Mao-haha there-were down. When would Mao ever learn that his blind-and utterly individual-rushes did jack for the team. Oh well. Silly admin.
"/Church! THEY'RE COMING FROM LONG A! WATCH OUT/!" the voice of Chairman Mao sounded in his head.
"Uh oh," Church drawled to himself. Let's see... what could be a good spot? The CTs down there were heading for Bomb B double-doors, so the goofs Mao was talking about were going to-
"/MOVE/ /CHURCH/! /They're going to go through our spawn!/"
Right. He knew it.
He slung his Scout and swung himself over the ledge, into the little pass where he'd been looking. The boxes would give excellent cover until the completely unknowing CTs ran bye him.
And then he could cap the back of their heads out through their teeth. Fun times.
Bob Long giggled to himself. He was gonna get himself a Mao coat. Or Mao hat. Ooh! A Mao head! Screaming in terror! For the den!
Too bad Pherbee or Smoke or whoever might blow him away before he and the four others got to Bomb B, but whatever. There would be jumiliation this round, for sure.
He ran up the ramp that led to T homespawn. Er... no one there. Cool, that meant they were at B. He shifted the grip on his Desert Eagle. "Mao, mao, mao..." he cackled.
"Uh... Bob?" Bob heard JB say.
Bob came a halt. What!? Fucking NO /WAY/! "What do you mean he's dead!? He can't be dead! I need to shank his ass!"
"Dude. We naded his ass at Long A. I got the kill, I think. Rudy has Mao's AK."
Bah, he'd get Mao next round. In any case someone was going to get their ass gigged.
"Next time you don't touch Mao, k?"
"Well, fuck you too Bob. Next time my ass is getting shot at I'll just show them my nice white cheeks and-
And then Jmartini's head blew off.
Caboose blew air out of his mouth. Chief was currently carrying the package, and the team-helpfully lead by one semi-suicidal administrator-had gotten into Bombsite B without any hassle. Weird. Usually there would be a welcoming committee sometime soon after the first rusher got in. No one home.
Oh well, easiness was not something to complain about. Oh well.
"Cover me!" called Chief into the team radio as he began the arming sequence of the high-yield explosive. There was a series of beeps as Chief completed the timer count and set the bomb smack dab on the red X on the ground.
Now, time to wait it out.
"Hold your positions!" Solza called to the team. There was a rumble of assent.
Caboose shifted his Galil and waited.
"Enemy spotted!" screeched Dick as he opened fire at something from the hole in the front wall. 5.56mm rounds cracked out at some target.
Until the Guerilla flew back from the hole, his body riddled with ugly holes. Damn, Dick was down.
"Tunnel's clear!" called Rock out as he and some others sidled back, ready to reinforce the front door.
"Hold! Let them come to us!" called Solza.
/SHIT/! Bob mentally yammered as JB's mostly headless corpse flew back. Damn! A sniper!
He bolted for the tunnel. Let the sniper follow... and he could ambush.
Incog nearly wet himself. It had to be Churchill! Holy crap, he was going to die. He lifted the scope to his eye and wildly looked towards T homespawn. Omigod, where was--
Too late, he saw a Phoenix with a scout.
Rudy cursed and ran. He felt something puncture his left shoulder. As he got behind the wall that separated T homespawn from the tunnel area. Damn! How the hell did the sniper know when and where to hide? God...
There was a splattering sound. He turned to look behind him... and saw the headless body of Incog fall to the ground, twitching. Craaaap.
Phew. He was safe. Now... he took a look at his health indicator. He was a little below the fifty percent mark. Thank Bob for kevlar...
Bush yelped as a bullet whizzed by his ear. Damn, so close, so fucking close. He pulled his M4 closer to his shoulder and ran.
What the hell? It was only him and Rudy. JB, DC, and Incog were all splattered, but he hadn't seen Bob take it. Oh well... he had a bomb to defuse...
Bob waited behind the arches, on the tunnel side. He heard running footsteps. The sniper--probably Churchill, the bastard--was coming closer. Oh yeah, time to cut him some shiny new T. He drew his knife and grinned.
Churchill huffed as he ran with his deagle out. He might be able to catch up to their penises and-
"/BEHIND/ /YOUUUU. KNIFER!/!" Mao's voice resonated in his head. Eh? What the? Knifer? What was-
"Son of a mother!" yelped Churchill as he turned, the GSG-9's knife barely missing his face. Almost panicking, he leveled the Desert Eagle into the counter-terrorist's stomach and squeezed the trigger. The enemy jerked... but he kept on coming! Crap!
He screamed as the knife jabbed into his side.
But now he had time.
He leveled the gun into the GSG-9's chest and slammed two rounds into the CT's torso. The terrorist dropped.
Churchill panted as he felt his wound. Not a horribly bad stab. He'd finish the round.
He groaned and headed off towards the tunnel.
And then he heard rifle fire coming from inside. Oh dammit. The fighting had started without him.
PheerMee advanced towards the Bomb B double doors, keeping out of sight. No mean feat for a guy as big as him, but not impossible. It was good he had taken a Sig-firing T out before it had killed Bar.
He saw white letters appear in the sky.
"Come and get the bomb, CTs lol."
Had to be Caboose. Only Caboose used "lol" as a grammatical punctuation mark. Meh.
Pheer dug around for a grenade. Ah hah. There. He pulled out his reskinned grenade. It was a blue-furred furby, complete with creepy eyes and mobile beak. There was a little plastic tag on it that read "This pherbee does not phire a phamas, but you should still pheer it."
God, different models were so cool.
He punched its beak with a finger-the equivalent of pulling the pin-and chucked it through the door.
Just as four others exploded.
"What. The. Fuck," Bob sobbed brokenly. "What. The. Fuck."
"Eh? I was AFK for a minute to get Cheetos," said JB. "What's up with Bobby?"
"He was 'bout to knife Churchill, but Churchill blew him away," said Nox. "He can't get over it.
Behind them Bob Long continued his litany of "what the fuck".
Toaster looked around. Mao seemed a bit odd. Not quite smiling, but he had a smirk in his eyes. Huh. Weird as hell.
"Fuuuck!" the Dead Zone players heard as Chief Justice materialized in their ranks. "That was gay. I got nade spammed!"
"Join the club," Mao sighed. "By the way, Pherbee hit you with a, uh, furby. Hah hah, killed by an obsolete furry children's toy."
"Shut up, Chairman" Chief sighed. Oh well, Mao deserved to rib him for it. A furby, eh? He'd show PheerMee a furby...
"What. The. Fuck. What. The. Fuck," Bob moaned.
"Oh, Jesus, somebody shoot him already," ground out Bizzly.
"We're dead already, smart one," shot back Dick.
"Oh, yeah," said Bizzly after a pause. "Right."
"It doesn't look good for the CTs," remarked Sceadu. "The Ts have got some pretty good positions..."
"What. The. Fuck."
Smoke hurled the flashbang through the door and followed it in the moment it exploded. His silenced M4 coughed, and a Phoenix with a Galil flew back from the door. Smoke shifted aim and stitched holes in a Krew. Then--
Shit, Smoke had just eaten a burst from a Sig 552. Billy charged in with his shield up, running towards the nearest terrorist, a Krew. However, instead of crouching and firing, the T got up and charged /him/. What the hell?
White letters appeared in the sky again.
"Dammit Smoke lol I was typing!"
Oh shit. The cumbersome shield made it impossible to outmanuever the more nimble T. Omigod, he was going to get flanked and shot--
The power of Mao's AK would lend him the power... it would have to! He leaped out of the tunnel and began to pound shots at the terrorists. Two flew away, riddled with holes, and he had to contend with a Krew that had just shot Billy. The T dodged like mad, and Rudy's aim was a bit off. He heard Bush die behind him.
He felt the Power of Mao infuse his very cells, and he scored two solids hits to the Krew. Wait almost--
Solza swore. Damn, he was down to friggin' one healthpoint! Someone could fucking sneeze on him and-
The Fa-Mas SAS was taken out rather quickly, but not before he killed Solza.
Street readjusted his Sig, took down one last GIGN, and waited.
He lowered his gun.