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Fan Fiction


Out of Phase 6
Posted By: BlackValkyire<ChaoticP0et@bellsouth.net>
Date: 18 May 2004, 3:14 AM


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The chief was...feeling some trepadation to say the least. Ground troops and tanks was one thing, but a Los Angles Class nuclear attack submarine was a whole diffrent story. One torpedo, detonating anywhere near him meant goodbye. He stood stock still, and the sub began to decelerate above him. And it was as he feared, divers were dispersing from multiple airlocks, armed with high pressure harpoon guns. His shields were tough, designed to withstand plasma, but those harpoons would go right through him at close range. They were moving quickly, the cheif focused on one, and surprisingly, the man became larger in his vision and more clear in a quick moment. The chief it assumed it was the magnification built into his armor's visor. What he saw next bothered him even more...pistols...small, but only one pistol he had ever read about fired underwater...and it was the infamous Glock.

The chief had studied Glocks extensively as a personal hobby. There were many makes and models, but they were the best of their time, the most versatile hand gun ever created, in his opinion. They would fire up too twenty feet underwater...that was the effective range anyway. They were looking for him, that was for certian, but the cheif could't be seen by them. He pushed off the murky river bottom, and began to kick, the raw power of his legs combined with the amplified strength of MJOLINR sent him speeding towards the submarine. But to his aggrivation, they spotted him. A harpoon went sailing past his head, and the chief went into overdrive. He added his arms to his movement...arms that had enough strength to hurl a 66 ton scorpion tank. The chief blurred through the water, and approached the sub. The first hatch he found had remained open on the bottom, and for this the cheif was thankful. He swam into the airlock and pulled the hatch shut, hearing about five harpoons clang against it. He searched quickly until he located the controls for the pressure control.

The room drained before his eyes, and a green light blinked, quickly followed by a sharp click of a lock. The hatch above opened and John climbed up. He would only have minutes before the alarm was raised, he had to work quickly. He had no idea where the bridge would be, but he guessed it would be near the tower protruding from the dorsal side of the submarine. He moved quickly and quietly, pausing once to knock out a sailor that was rather muscular and steel his uniform. Strange how his armor properties were only working to stop attacks. He moved quickly and purposefully, no longer worried about being questioned. He approached the bridge, knowing it was just that by the orders and how they were given. Not to mention the obvious "Captian, dive team one returning now, they say they lost contact as the target was going for the surface" someone said calmly. The chief had been ready to rush in and storm them with his hands and feet. But it appeared they thought he was on the surface, and if that was true, he might be able to hide among the crew for awhile.

But when he heard the bolt of an M9 click, he knew that wasn't happening. "Hands up, now" the voice said simply, in a monotone. The cheif hadn't heard or felt him coming...sneaky bastard indeed. So he spun, and lashed out with his left leg. The blow could have cracked a concrete wall two feet thick with half that force. The man was launched backwards, all his ribs shattered, the force of the blow causing his heart to explode. The man landed twenty feet down the narrow corridor, and lay dead...minus the M9 pistol, wich lay in the chief's right hand. Now he was armed, and that made him oh so dangerous. But someone had heard the hard landing and the gun click, and the bridge hatch sealed itself shut. Fine, they wanted to play hardball, the cheif would play hardball. He turned, and began a hunt for the engine room. ***

The alarm sounded halfway down the last ladder that would lead to the engine room. The chief dove in and rolled forward, then began to move. The hatches shut automatically as the general quarters alarm was sounded. The chief crew the M9 he had stuffed into his waistband and removed the safety. One guard came to investigate...so they were cautious...he was armed with an MP5, and wearing body armor with a helmet. The chief fired once, only once, and the man lost his right eye, falling dead to the ground. The chief picked up the MP5, and kept walking. Two more guards fell with holes in their faces as the cheif moved, fearlessly through the engine room. Finally, he found what he was looking for, the chief engineer...who tried to subdue him with a wrench to the head. The chief easily snapped the steel tool in half and hauled the man up by his collar. "If you want to live, you shut off all the lights on this submarine, now, kill everything except ventalation systems." the cheif ordered. The man looked nervous but didn't flinch. The chief raised the gun to his head...and then slowly pointed it towards the seemingly endless number of panels. "Do it, or I'll do it the hard way." he said. "Al...alright." the man said calmly. The chief let him go, and kept the gun trained on him.

Minutes later, everylight in the submarine died, and the man fell down after the chief gave him a chop in the neck. He focused on letting his eyes adjust...and his night vision kicked in. He could see fine, everyone else was blind as a bat until the engineer woke up...wich wouldn't be for awhile. So the chief retraced his steps to the bridge, and with one simple strike, the door collapsed inwards. "Shit, what was that?" someone said...everyone was still at their stations, the captain and the important officers still standing. The cheif moved over to the captain and put the gun to his head. "This ship is now under control of the USMC, any attempts to overthrow this judgement will result in execution." he said in a monotone. "Are you out of your goddamned..." and he said no more as the chief pulled the trigger, blood spraying outwards, the captain falling dead. The gun then moved to the first officer. "This ship is now under my control" he said quietly. The man was choked up, angry and horrified, but not stupid. "Very well" he managed. The chief lowered the weapon. "Blow the main balast, now" he orderd.

Slowly, in the darkness of 4 am, the Hudson River bubbled...and then, like a giant serpent arising from the depths, the ship surfaced. Com channels went nuts, and civil defense was nearly called in. Something was DEFEINITLY not right. One man had been placed in charge of all the millitary forces available to hunt the man down. The city was on lockdown, all civillians were to be kept indoors at all times, police were herding them in, and making sure that everyone stayed in, while the marines hunted for him. And now, a nuclear submarine had surfaced in the middle of the river. The general didn't have time to calculate and guess. If the man had control over a submarine, that meant nuclear warheads. "Sink them, now" he ordered coldly. Somewhere off the coast, a fleet of naval vessels recieved the order, and a cruise missile turret began to turn...





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