Post by deadaim88 on Sept 18, 2008 20:13:50 GMT 1
Some terms, expressions, and activities have been interwoven into the story to add realism.
I had just gotten off the truck near the City Square when gunfire and grenades erupted around me. As I ran for the closest alleyway, Abdul was cut down by machine gun fire, his blood splattered against my helmet. I've never experienced such a fierce and never ending volume of gunfire. Before I could take my next breath, an American turned into the same alley I occupied. I quickly press the trigger of my machine gun before I could even process the presence of an enemy soldier. As my heart was pounding, amazingly, my rounds hit the the mark, proved to be accurate, and a U.S. Marine lay there silent and unmoving on the ground.
A group of armed Iraqi's ran by the opening of the alleyway and I wondered in disbelief how we could be fighting together under the banner of the Middle Eastern Coalition, but this united effort was due to the American infidels pushing us all too far.
"Defend the hotel" I heard my commander yell. This daydreaming must stop. I picked up my weapon and ran across the street ... bullets were flying by my head and stitching the ground behind me. The Americans must have had many men attempting to take Karkland with so much gunfire. In front of me a fellow MEC fighter was torn to shreds by a gernade. I quickly rushed to the corner and went prone to stablize my machine gun. My face drained of blood as I saw three Marines rushing along the promenade toward my position. My thoughts brightened when I noticed by the type of uniform they were wearing and that they were all part of the bastardly U.S. Special Operations Forces. My thoughts turned hopeful that these men were already injured from on-going urban fighting. I quickly spraid their area with a storm of 7.62 x 39 rounds. The recoil pushed my weapon in different directions as I struggled to maintain the fire in the designated area were I could see the enemy SOF.
I was nearly out of ammo and did a quick survey the area. Knowing I had grown vulnerable from this most recent exchange of gunfire, I decided to withdraw. I could hear the moaning of downed fighters as I prepared to reload. I heard the sounds of footsteps nearby. Surely, I can not be so lucky. A second later, an American medic jumped onto the downed SOF group attempting to heal the injured warriors. I quickly threw 2 grenades into his area and, finally, withdrew. The screams of the Americans were very satisfying as the explosions tore apart their remains.
I had only traveled a short distance away when excruciating pain suddenly shot through my left shoulder. I crouched to recover and was able to muster enough strength to reloaded my weapon and return fire. Thankfully, my enemy was forced to reload, couldn't draw his pistol quick enough, and suffered a proper infidel death.
Wounded, I ran back to the promenade yelling for a medic to assist. I laid crouched against a wall as a medic arrived then patched me up with a medpack. As I received his last medpack, his face exploded covering me with blood, grey matter, and shards of bone. I scanned to notice an American sniper shifting his optics to focus on me. I quickly dropped to the floor, rapidly fired on the newly acquired target, and expended my remaining rounds. My actions resulted in another bloodied and lifeless American. There was distant yelling, "Move Move," and my commander announced the Americans had taken the Hotel.
Wiping the blood from my face, I rounded a corner to find machine gun fire raining down the street. I positioned myself behind a dumpster, identified an American lying in the alleyway, and laid waste to him with successive rounds from my weapon impacting his torso. Turning into the alley further South, I repeated the exercise on another American who was standing and shooting at my coalition brothers who were trying to approach the Hotel. Bits of concrete were breaking off the sidewalk and flying around and above me as enemy machine gun fire pummeled my area. Turning toward the source of the gun fire while firing blindly, thanks be to Allah, a lucky shot rendered the American useless.
Suddenly, our commander proudly announced over the radio the Americans were retreating. We had through our determined efforts ... Won ... this round.
(Tales of DeadAim, only some slight exaggerations as the Battlefield 2 game contains no blood. Just happened yesterday as I joined a battle near the end, MEC 80, US 70 and I reeled off 10 kills in a short period of time. I know for some of you that is nothing, but for me, that was my best ever! Use of names and Allah are strictly to make it seem more "real" lol)
I had just gotten off the truck near the City Square when gunfire and grenades erupted around me. As I ran for the closest alleyway, Abdul was cut down by machine gun fire, his blood splattered against my helmet. I've never experienced such a fierce and never ending volume of gunfire. Before I could take my next breath, an American turned into the same alley I occupied. I quickly press the trigger of my machine gun before I could even process the presence of an enemy soldier. As my heart was pounding, amazingly, my rounds hit the the mark, proved to be accurate, and a U.S. Marine lay there silent and unmoving on the ground.
A group of armed Iraqi's ran by the opening of the alleyway and I wondered in disbelief how we could be fighting together under the banner of the Middle Eastern Coalition, but this united effort was due to the American infidels pushing us all too far.
"Defend the hotel" I heard my commander yell. This daydreaming must stop. I picked up my weapon and ran across the street ... bullets were flying by my head and stitching the ground behind me. The Americans must have had many men attempting to take Karkland with so much gunfire. In front of me a fellow MEC fighter was torn to shreds by a gernade. I quickly rushed to the corner and went prone to stablize my machine gun. My face drained of blood as I saw three Marines rushing along the promenade toward my position. My thoughts brightened when I noticed by the type of uniform they were wearing and that they were all part of the bastardly U.S. Special Operations Forces. My thoughts turned hopeful that these men were already injured from on-going urban fighting. I quickly spraid their area with a storm of 7.62 x 39 rounds. The recoil pushed my weapon in different directions as I struggled to maintain the fire in the designated area were I could see the enemy SOF.
I was nearly out of ammo and did a quick survey the area. Knowing I had grown vulnerable from this most recent exchange of gunfire, I decided to withdraw. I could hear the moaning of downed fighters as I prepared to reload. I heard the sounds of footsteps nearby. Surely, I can not be so lucky. A second later, an American medic jumped onto the downed SOF group attempting to heal the injured warriors. I quickly threw 2 grenades into his area and, finally, withdrew. The screams of the Americans were very satisfying as the explosions tore apart their remains.
I had only traveled a short distance away when excruciating pain suddenly shot through my left shoulder. I crouched to recover and was able to muster enough strength to reloaded my weapon and return fire. Thankfully, my enemy was forced to reload, couldn't draw his pistol quick enough, and suffered a proper infidel death.
Wounded, I ran back to the promenade yelling for a medic to assist. I laid crouched against a wall as a medic arrived then patched me up with a medpack. As I received his last medpack, his face exploded covering me with blood, grey matter, and shards of bone. I scanned to notice an American sniper shifting his optics to focus on me. I quickly dropped to the floor, rapidly fired on the newly acquired target, and expended my remaining rounds. My actions resulted in another bloodied and lifeless American. There was distant yelling, "Move Move," and my commander announced the Americans had taken the Hotel.
Wiping the blood from my face, I rounded a corner to find machine gun fire raining down the street. I positioned myself behind a dumpster, identified an American lying in the alleyway, and laid waste to him with successive rounds from my weapon impacting his torso. Turning into the alley further South, I repeated the exercise on another American who was standing and shooting at my coalition brothers who were trying to approach the Hotel. Bits of concrete were breaking off the sidewalk and flying around and above me as enemy machine gun fire pummeled my area. Turning toward the source of the gun fire while firing blindly, thanks be to Allah, a lucky shot rendered the American useless.
Suddenly, our commander proudly announced over the radio the Americans were retreating. We had through our determined efforts ... Won ... this round.
(Tales of DeadAim, only some slight exaggerations as the Battlefield 2 game contains no blood. Just happened yesterday as I joined a battle near the end, MEC 80, US 70 and I reeled off 10 kills in a short period of time. I know for some of you that is nothing, but for me, that was my best ever! Use of names and Allah are strictly to make it seem more "real" lol)
