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'''Book One: ''Atlantis Rising'''''
  
'''THE ATLANTIS STORY'''
 
BY: BRANDON KRUPCZAK AND WILL ANDERSON
 
  
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''Written by Brandon Krupczak''
  
Please note this is only a teaser, and if you want to see the rest of the story, type in 'Atlantis: chapter 1' to get to chapter 1 and the prologue, 'Atlantis, chapter 2' to get to chapter two, and so on and so forth. Or, you could click on these new, shiny links here:
 
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 1]]
 
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 2]]
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{|
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 3]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 1]]||[[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 11]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 2]]||[[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 12]]                         
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 4]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 3]]||[[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 13]]
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 5]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 4]]
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 6]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 5]]
  
[[Atlantis: chapter 7]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 6]]
  
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 7]]
  
<br>
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 8]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 9]]
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|-
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| [[Atlantis Rising: Chapter 10]]
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|}
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Hello people reading this! You may have accidentally stumbled upon a book that is under way currently. The book is basically about World War Three, in a world where there are eight continents. The eighth is Atlantis, which surfaces in December of 2012. Maybe the Mayan calendar wasn't counting down to this day, but counting up to the day when Atlantis would rise above the oceans once more, supposedly.
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Below is a random chapter from the book that I display here on the front page. The link above brings you to the page that the chapter is actually housed at. If you scroll down to the very bottom, you'll find my work in progress section, where I write the next section/chapter of the book. Because I start writing completely fresh chapters, the work in progress section might end in a fragment of thought, or there might not be anything displayed there.
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Please also note that none of my writing here is completed and I go back numerous times to a piece to improve it. The chapter below will be changed multiple times and improved upon, so if you read it now you might wanna check back every now and again to see if I changed anything.
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Also, please note that any writing I do here is written to entertain, and therefore the story has to fit in with itself, so please excuse any religious or opinionated writing I have here and do not take it into offense. Please don't copy my work. It's not nice.
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Also check out my friend Jamie Knox's writing here:
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[[Reaper's First Drop]]
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And here's a new, alternate account of the war, from the perspective of an elite soldier from an elite Black-Ops Spec-Ops division.
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[[Atlantis Rising: Perfect War]]
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And another little project of mine. Here, I'm writing about the video game ''Fallout 3''. The setting, premise, and some of the characters are not my creation, but basically I'm taking the game and writing my own addition.
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[[Fallout 3]]
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An additional project, using the concept and setting of the ''Fallout'' universe again. This is an idea I've wanted to explore: A Fallout game in the Carribean.
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[[Fallout: Caribbean]]
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And a Halo project, told from the perspective of a Marine Fireteam. Just regular soldiers, not Spartans or even ODSTs.
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[[Halo: Fireteam]]
  
  
 
==Atlantis Teaser==
 
==Atlantis Teaser==
  
A knock at the door startled them all, and Tom heard a rough voice command “Open up!”. ''Open up so we can shoot the living daylights out of you is more like it,'' Tom thought. He hurriedly screwed a silencer onto an Uzi.
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''"Soldiers, you will be deployed via fast-rope. You will rappel down to the ground and await the indicator in your HUD before beginning. As soon as you see the signal, you may begin. Good luck, recruits. Up first: Echo Squad! Squad Leader, make sure your squad's gear checks out."''
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“Open this door or I'll blast it open!a shout came. Tom gave Dr. Stephens a nod, and he pressed the unlock button.  
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The DS gestured to Matt, and all of them went and gave one another triple buddy checks.
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"Ready when you are, Frost!" Holly yelled over their Team comm.
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"Roger that, Aura." Matt yelled back. Each of them had callsigns. His was Frost. Jamie's was Scorch. Scar was Flare. Malcolm was Spark. Holly was Aura. "Alright. Squad, move out! Go, go, go!" Matt barked.
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Scar attached her rappel harness to the line and jumped out the side, one hand on the rope above her, and the other below and slightly behind her butt, the "brake" hand that controlled how fast the line went. Malcolm followed, then Jamie, then Holly. Matt was the last one out, as befitting his status of Squad Leader.
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Scar landed, disengaged her harness, and let it drop to the forest floor. A crew would come later and get it.
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Soon the entire squad was on the ground, and Matt quickly led the squad under cover of the trees. As soon as the V-22 Osprey was out of sight, they doubled back and went after the bird. They kept the lines from the rappel - there was always a use for thirty feet of tough nylon.
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The countdown timer in Matt's HUD read D + 15:07 when Matt raised his fist, the sign to halt. With slow, exaggerated sign language, he indicated for the team to spread out and climb the trees. Jamie went with Matt in one tree. Scar went by herself, and Malcolm and Holly shared a third.
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"Frost, requesting permission to re-format to a sniper?" Scar whispered over the Teamcomm.
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"Roger that, Flare. Permission granted. Scorch, outfit yours with the AR. Aura, you're our grenadier. Get the XM320 on there." The XM320 was a single-shot 40mm grenade launcher that could be attached to their carbines. Matt put one on his. Malcolm preferred a straight-up assault rifle.
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Beside Matt, almost completely invisible in the heavy jungle shadow, Jamie lay prone along two branches, with his AR balanced on a third branch with a clear line-of-sight to the ground.
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Matt slid down from the tree. "Spark, get down here and help me create a barricade. We need to push any incoming squads into one firing lane. Scorch, Flare, give me a dot." In response, Malcolm slid from his tree, and both Scar and Jamie highlighted the firing lane that they had access to with red laser-dots. Matt took armfuls of brambles and thin, thorned vines and dumped them to the left and right of the lane, in between the trees, to create a natural-looking wall that would influence the squads to find an easier way through. Right through their lane of fire.
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Matt strung triplines further out into the jungle with the Nylon cables, attaching them to frag grenades.
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Matt's countdown ended. "Alright people, we can now shoot at and be shot. Let's wrap this up." Malcolm laid the last armful of brambles in place, and then they both scampered up into their separate trees. There were five other squads in this particular mission, all within a square mile. It wouldn't be long before they had some hits.
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Five minutes passed, and no one came. The squad was getting impatient. "Spark," Matt whispered. "Be the rabbit. I need you to go along the lane and see if you can draw some fire, then sprint back here. We'll cover your approach. I'd do it myself but I'm not fast enough."
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"Roger that, lead." Malcolm said, grinning. "I've always been one for the suicidal frontal charge." He slid down his tree, landing in the brush below. Before he had even gone two minutes, the sound of gunfire erupted through the forest. "Frost, I've got multiple targets here. They've got me pinned, I could use some assistance!"
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Matt looked to Holly. She nodded, slid down, and circled around to the right to counter-flank the guys surrounding Malcolm. "Spark, help is on the way. How long can you hold?"
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"I've got good cover, I'm inside a shallow cave-thing in the ground. I can hold out a while."
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"Roger that. Keep your head down, but keep the attention centered on you. And watch out, they'll try to advance. Watch your flanks."
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"You got it, Frost." Malcolm said, and tossed a grenade out the opening of the cave. It exploded, and Malcolm heard someone groan. "Yeah, bring it!" He shouted.
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Holly took up a firing position, sighted through her scope, and tagged a soldier in the back of his head. He dropped like a load of rocks, asleep by the time he hit the ground. Return fire peppered the rock she had been hiding behind, and two soldiers broke off to get her. But Holly wasn't there anymore.
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A soldier fell as rounds tore into his inner thigh. He dropped to the ground, not out yet but with a crippled leg. He hobbled behind a piece of cover as Holly filled the air with bullets around the second soldier. A grenade rolled to a stop next to her, and at this she turned and fled back the way she had come, then darted back, and got the attention of the two remaining soldiers pinning Malcolm.
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At the momentary distraction, Malcolm bolted out of the hole, sprinted from rock to tree, from tree to bush, from bush to ground, and drew the soldiers down through the firing lane, followed a second later by Holly. Jamie adjusted his grip on the AR as the two squadmates ran down the path. 30 seconds later, the first soldier popped into view. Jamie waited until the last soldier appeared, then nailed the one closest to any viable cover.
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The steady thrum of the AR set Matt's head pounding, and he opened fire on the last one in the line. Then Scar fired, and a round slugged the first soldier in the chest.
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Jamie's target fell from hits to the leg, side, and shoulder. He wasn't quite gone, but almost. Jamie finished him off with another quick, sustained burst.
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Matt's soldier dropped to the ground, out for the count with five rounds in his chest and more in his left arm.
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Scar's target took the heavy caliber bullet in the chest and sat down with the force, hard, landing on his butt and jarring his head. Before he could recover, Scar punched another round into his chest. He spun halfway around and ate dirt.
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Four down. The last soldier turned to flee, but Holly popped out of the shadows and nailed him with a grenade from her XM320, which cast training rounds into a wide arc everywhere, painting the nearby forest a vivid crimson.
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"Alright!" Jamie crowed.
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Matt disengaged his spent clip and slapped a new one in. "Let's hope the other squads come running for the noise. One down, three to go, gentlemen."
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The next squad was slightly smarter. Instead of running pel-mel into the contested area, they sent one scout on ahead through the firing lane, and the rest hung back and encircled the target area. Too bad for them, Matt's squad had moved from the one killing field and into another close-by clearing, where they could easily spot the would-be flanking attack.
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"Open fire!" Matt yelled, and the two soldiers in sight twisted around, trying to find the source of the noise. One was slugged by a heavy cal. sniper shot, and the other fell to the combined fire from Jamie's AR and Matt's carbine.
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Holly and Malcolm, still on the ground, rose out of a cover of leaves and dead brush and moved around behind the three soldiers left that came running. Standing up, they nailed two with one salvo of fire.
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The last one hit the dirt and rolled under a log. Holly and Malcolm pursued.
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"Negative! Disengage!" Jamie yelled, and opened fire into the brush to their left.
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Holly hit dirt. Malcolm followed half a second later with three rounds stitched across his back. He wasn't out yet, but his entire suit was getting quickly more rigid.
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He turned onto his back and fired in the general direction of where the shots had come from. Holly sidled around to him and took out a fake med-pack, wiping clean the Training Rounds and administering an electric shock through the armor. Malcolm's suit unstraightened a little, and Malcolm crawled back into better cover.
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Jamie was still firing bursts from his AR at the last squad. Matt held his fire; there was no clear target in view, and to give away his position would be stupid. Scar attached a flash suppressor to her rifle, and started shelling the squad's general position.
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"Watch flankers." Matt advised, seeing shadows moving behind her. Scar turned and nailed one soldier who had tried to flank her, and Matt caught another with a grenade.
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Matt slid to the ground as Jamie covered him, landed, and ran in a half-crouch to Holly. He saw a rifle barrel poke out of a bush, saw a blast coming their way, and tackled Holly to the ground. The burst nailed him in the calf and he rolled up into a crouch.
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Matt rolled off and came up firing. Jamie suppressed the soldier that had just shot at them while Matt took him out, Holly and Malcolm covering his flank.
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Then Scar took multiple sustained bursts from the last soldier from the other squad, and toppled from the tree. She was out cold. Fury ignited in Matt. Toppling her from the tree was not necessary, and she could have injured herself. He and Holly outflanked the soldier and drilled him to the ground with long automatic fire.
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They split and threw themselves behind rocks, Matt reloading as he went. There were two left on the other team and three left on his; Malcolm had been drilled again in his helmet.
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Jamie's AR barked again and again. With his suppressive fire, Matt darted from cover to cover and distracted the two soldiers long enough for Holly to creep around and take the first one out. The last soldier sprayed fire everywhere, panicking, and continued even as Matt, Jamie, and Holly's combined fire drilled him into the ground.
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The DS broke through their comm. lines, "Cease fire. Echo team, you have won the mission. We will collect you shortly. Hold position."
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"Roger that." Matt responded. "Alright, lady and gentleman. We won!"
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The survivors of Echo Team gazed around at all the unconscious forms before them. They may as well have been dead. It was only now that Matt got the first hint of what a war could really be like. He would have to do better, make sure none of his crew got hurt, ever. This was one simple mission, and two of his own had gone. What would have happened had they been live rounds? Scar and Malcolm, dead, blink of an eye, without ever seeing their attackers. What was this going to come to?
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This was war.
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==Work In Progress Chapter 14==
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'''
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"You guys have got to check this out." Malcolm said as they boarded a cargo lift. "So the new shipments of Croc Armor have come in while you two were away, but the boys have been working overtime developing some gear strictly for the Shock Forces. I've gotten to work fitting our new armor with all our old custom stuff, but with some new toys."
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"What kind of toys?" Jamie asked, yawning. Upon arrival back at Firebase Bravo, he and Matt had been debriefed, taken several hot showers, and stuffed their guts with the contents of several MREs. Life was good.
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"Dude DWAI. You'll see in just a sec."
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The lift sank several stories into the ground, to where Ford had had a Research and Development Lab excavated and lined with a fast-drying concrete substitute while Matt and Jamie were gone.
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It was the classic Malcolm workshop scene, with tables and workbenches lining the walls, equipment strewn all over the place in differing states of organization. But for some reason the lights were dimmed to half-intensity, throwing the room into deep shadows.
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They got off the lift and stood for a second. Matt inhaled the stale air and examined the sets of armor that lay draped over tables, gauntlets and shoulder pauldrons dismantled.
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"I don't see anything." Jamie said after half a minute.
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"I do." Malcolm said, unable to contain a grin.
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Matt looked harder. "Oh. Clever."
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"What?" Jamie asked.
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Matt reached out with one hand and gently probed the flickering semi-shadow before him. It laughed, so Matt grabbed the camouflage cloak and pulled it off.
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The figure laughed again. Matt could now see the armor in greater detail, but the invisibility mechanism still worked amazingly well.
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Scar and Holly tapped some controls on their gauntlets from inside their new armor and solidified into the visible spectrum.
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Malcolm hit the lights, and the room lit up.
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"Awesome! I want one." Jamie cackled.
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"Pretty sweet." Matt agreed. "How does it work?"
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"Unfortunately it sucks up power like a wild hog." Holly said, detaching a power cable from her back. "So the armor can't support it for much longer than a minute in combat situations unless its plugged into something."
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"It's none of the 'Oh, I'll take a miraculous video of whats behind me and put it in front of me and for some reason it looks like I'm invisible' crap." Malcolm explained. "That would require the entire exterior of the armor to be covered in video screens. Instead, the armor's on-board computer gets a general bearing of its surroundings and then tells its new photo-reactive armor plates to change color and shade depending on what it registers. Like we said, the computer system and the photo-plates suck power really fast, so you can only do it for about a minute on one power cell."
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"What's the cape for?"
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Malcolm winced. "Cloak. Camouflage cloak. It's to break up the humanoid figure. Our eyes identify things by shape and color, so if we blur the outline of your body and minimize the difference in color you're practically invisible."
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Matt crossed to the worktables and inserted his arm into a gauntlet, then pulled a switch and a blade jumped out of the side. "Nice."
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"Yeah. Retractable gauntlet blades, your custom elbow spikes, high-density non-standard issue gel bladders, M5 fiber gloves in the gauntlets, steel knuckles, integrated sonic pulse emitter in the helmet speakers. And then some of the newer stuff, we've got optional gauntlet attachments, custom-fit for each of us. Jamie's, Scar's, and mine shoot flames. Yours, which is a much smaller attachment, can send an electric shock through the gauntlet and anything you're touching. Holly's shoots a gas grenade loaded with tear gas. Of course, the rebreather and visor in the helmet will make you impervious to gas attacks."
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"Thank heaven." Jamie snickered. "Finally, a piece of equipment that's been Matt-proofed."
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"Somehow, I knew you would say that."
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"And I did."
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"Yes you did."
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"Okay."
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"Alright then."
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A few seconds passed in silence.
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"Awkward." Scarlett stated.
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"Right. Anyway." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Mark Two armor, really cool stuff. And it came in just in time, too."
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"Meaning?" Holly asked.
  
An Atlantian bursted in, all six feet of him, and Dr. Stephens quickly closed and locked the door. The Atlantian spun, realizing he had stumbled into a trap. Tom moved forward swiftly with a katana, but the Atlantian was expecting it, and he was armed with a spear, and the spear was decorated with feathers. Obviously, the man was an officer of some significance, as all the other spears were not decorated at all.  
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"We're about to get sent out again. All of us, to go mop up that Russian detention outpost you two were at. It's a joint operation between us and the Atlantians - first official mission together, just to kinda test the waters."
  
Moving far quicker than Tom would previously have thought possible, he planted the weapon so that Tom's sword stuck into the wood, and then yanked it from Tom's grip. Then he twirled it, grabbing the blade, and once it was out, hurled the spear at Tom. Tom slid his claws out, and chopped the pathetic stick out of the air. The Atlantian, however, was now brandishing Tom's katana expertly. Tom just laughed. The man charged forward, acting as if he meant a simple thrust to the middle, but at the last second, changed direction and forced Tom back with a vicious uppercut that sliced Tom's cheek. The man let a smirk slide onto his face, but it quickly vanished as he returned his gaze to Tom.
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"So they're sending five Shockers and how many Atlantians?" Scar asked.
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Tom was angry. No one much liked Tom when he was angry with a person. Luckily for them, Tom rarely got angry, unless he or one of his friends had been injured severely. Now was one of those times, and Tom yelled furiously and jumped at the poor, oblivious Atlantian. Before the man could react, he had sunk his claws deep in the man's flesh. He refused to give up though, and valiantly tried to drive the sword into Tom's head. Tom caught it between his hands, and yanked it back, out of the man's grasp. Tom pulled out his other blade, and sliced the Atlantian across his face and torso. The man gasped back, as if he couldn't believe he was finally meeting his end. With a last rattling gasp, he flashed a knife out of nowhere, and chucked it at West. Tom blinked, and caught it with Telekenesis. The man's eyes bulged, then he lay still. Wiping off his blade, Tom took his silenced Uzi.
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“Let's go.” He said, and Dr. Stephens followed.
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"Well, a bit more than us five. And you're not gonna like it."
  
West looked at the monitor, and told them that there were 2 mounted Raptors in the hallway.
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The five of them packed their new armor and weaponry into armored crates, and Malcolm lead the crew back up to the ground floor, and from there they commandeered a Humvee for the short cross-camp drive to the armory.
  
“Thanks for the warning.” Tom opened the door, gun extended. He sprayed half a clip into one pair, and they fell, hitting the floor like a sack of vegetables. Before the other one could figure out what happened, Dr. Stephens opened fire. The Atlantian yelled as he was thrown off by the force of the bullets, and hit the ground. He didn't rise. The Raptor squawked and fled through the opposite door.
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Inside the semi-enclosed courtyard was a flurry of pre-mission activity. Soldiers, dressed in the head-to-toe matte black version of the newest Mk II armor, jogged from place to place, securing ammo crates, inspecting gear, loading vehicles.  
  
“Where's he going?!?” Tom yelled to West.
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Ford stood on a raised platform just outside the armory wall in one corner of the courtyard surveying the proceedings. He was dressed in cut-down CROC armor and an eyepiece instead of a helmet. From time to time aides dashed up to him carrying messages, then just as quickly disappeared. Carter stood at his shoulder, helmet in hands.
  
“Uhh, umm, OK, OK, he went into the elevator landings.
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When Ford saw the five 'Shockers,' he motioned them over. The 13's, who had been dubbed thus by the Marine Shock Forces, felt it their due to come up with a name in return. Hence, Shockers.
  
“Come on!” Tom said, and Dr. Stephens hurriedly followed him. Tom hastily opened the door, and yelled in surprise when he saw an outstretched AK-47 pointing at his head. The Atlantian opened fire. He was scarcely 3 yards away, so every bullet should have found its mark. Not a single one penetrated either Tom's or Dr. Stephens's skin. An entire modified clip of 50 bullets hung menacingly in the air, an arms length away from Tom.  
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"Guys, suit up. We're going in first to soften up the AA, and then when the main strike force arrives, we breach buildings, grab all the sensitive material we can find, then high-tail it out when the bombing starts. Clear?" Carter asked.
  
A loud bang echoed through the room as Dr. Stephens fired his Webley Mk. He must have guessed what had happened, but Tom didn't figure it out for another few seconds.
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"Yes sir!" The crew responded as one.
          Obviously, his powers had once again saved his life.
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The man with the AK had been hit between the eyes. He fell to the ground, his face stone cold.
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“Thanks” Tom managed. “We should keep moving.
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"Right. We'll be dropping in out of the new HALE rocket pods - High Altitude Low Entry Shock n' Awe drop pods. Just like the video games." Carter continued. "AC-130 flies by and drops us off, waits till we hit the AA, then drops down and provides support fire."
  
They got into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor. It took a while, because the building was designed like a fortress, and was built up and out, but they finally got to the top. This was mainly a storage area, and it was eerily silent. The room wasn't lit well, with a single naked bulb hanging on a thin cord that looked like it could snap at any moment. They found the stairs after a moment, and Tom bashed open the door. Unfortunately, the blast doors were locked.  
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Ford nodded. "We'll be dropping you guys in addition to Orca Team, so you'll have some more numbers to fill out the ranks at first. Find and destroy as many AA emplacements as you can, then call it in and sit tight."
  
“West, you down there? We need you to open the blast doors.” Tom whispered into his microphone.  
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"Right. Let's get this show on the road."
  
“OK, which ones? Read me a number.
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"Yeah, lets go plan some more cliches on the plain ride." Scar rolled her eyes.
  
“Uhh, number... 13A”
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"At least it made sense this time." Malcolm pointed out.
  
“Got it.” Tom heard West typing rapidly on the keyboard for a moment, then the blast doors opened. Tom and Dr. Stephens hurried through. The hard plastic doors closed after them, but the blast doors remained open.  
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"Hey!" Matt laughed.
  
The blast doors were actually made up of an extremely durable plastic under-door, and then the heavy solid titanium sliding door after that. At the moment, they were still open, so that Tom and Dr. Stephens could get back through fast.
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The five of them split up into the locker rooms in the armory and helped eachother into their armor. It took about ten minutes to gear up in their armor, then another five while they signed out and inspected their custom weapons, each enhanced to fit the user. Matt's HK UMP-45 had been modified for higher muzzle velocity, and Matt had custom-ordered his own magazine design that held thirty-five instead of twenty-five rounds, and was fatter and wider instead of longer. Matt had also kept the SMG's distinguishing .45 ACP rounds for increased stopping power.
  
Tom stealthily crept up to the edge of the roof, which was protected overhead by a hard plastic dome. The concrete had narrow slits, or battlements, used to stick weapons through. This gave the place a castle-like appearance. Tom layed down on his stomach with his arms holding his sniper, or prone position. He proceeded to take aim at the party of Atlantians who had gathered by the main gate, acting guards. Dr. Stephens followed his example. Tom passed a silencer to him, and screwed on his own to the barrel of his sniper. They were about to open fire, when a Non-USA hovercraft flew over the gate. It set down in the courtyard just beyond the gate, and more Atlantians piled out of it. They were all armed with guns. The Atlantians sprinted up the wide path suitable for driving tanks on that led to the garages. What are they doing in their? Tom thought. He signaled to Dr. Stephens to hold fire, and gazed curiously down at the huddled men. A moment later he was answered as an APC burst out the doors. A couple tanks soon followed, then a few hovercraft, some motorcycles, armored Humvees, all manner of vehicles. Even the Heli-plane on top took off, and set down in the courtyard. The filthy nuggets were stealing their vehicles! Tom screwed on another attachment to his sniper, and told Dr. Stephens to continue to hold fire. Tom then took aim, and fired at the Heli-plane. Dr. Stephens saw no damage to the exterior, but perhaps Tom had fired a gas-canister bullet, time delayed? At any rate, he removed the attachment and screwed on yet another, and this time, when he opened fire, an enormous explosion rocked the grounds. Dr. Stephens opened fire as well, and his bullets found a mark every time.
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The rest used XM8's in various configurations, with the exception that Jamie swapped his MP7 for a M1014 combat shotgun.
  
Tom was mainly concerned with causing the men to panic, confusing and separating them with his well placed shots. The hovercraft took off after a few moments of panic, and the rest of the men were trying to either climb aboard the hovercraft and escape, take cover in the building complex, or otherwise escape in one of the remaining vehicles. Man after man piled into the Heli-plane and APCs, but they weren't able to go anywhere without the gates being open. Tom brought down the hovercraft with a single accurate shot at its engine, and told West to lock the gates. The Atlantians were trapped. To add to the confusion, several more hovercraft flew over the walls, all of them raising the USA flag. Lead poured from the many machine guns, casting the confused Atlantians further into dis-array. Their numbers dropped by the second, but just as the last of them were being mopped up, more came charging out the doors, yelling incoherently. The Atlantians managed to bring down one of the hovercrafts in a concerted effort, and the demoralized Americans rose higher in the air, out of the range of the guns. At first it looked like they were running away, but then Tom noticed a group of Americans sneaking behind the shouting Atlantians. Tom fired a few more shots after taking of the explosive attachment, trying to keep their eyes off the small group. His ploy worked, and the first of the Americans crept up behind one of them and stabbed him with a vicious looking knuckle knife. Another Atlantian was cudgeled by the cudgel at the end of the knife, and a third was bashed by the brass knuckle part of the multi-function knife. Still none of the Atlantians were aware of their presence, until one man stabbed an Atlantian, and he fell on another. The man turned and uttered a hoarse shout of surprise, and Tom dropped him dead. But the damage had already been done...
+
Now that the Mk. II armor had an integrated anti-armor missile weapon system, Matt didn't need to carry a rocket-launcher or grenade launcher, but instead strapped an MP7 to his thigh, a Magnum under his shoulder, and an electric-flanged mace across his back.  
  
The rest of the group turned to meet this new threat, and the small group of 15 Americans was about to be overwhelmed by the 60-and-more-Atlantians. Suddenly, one more hovercraft roared over the walls, this one of English origin. And it wasn't armed with machine guns. It was armed with men who were toting flamethrowers, and rocket launchers had been crudely attached, each launcher carrying four shots. A few shots from these pummeled the ground, and the flamethrower men were descending a drop line. The Americans fought back with renewed vigor, and the 60+ Atlantians soon turned to 50, then 10 as the English men landed and wrought havoc with their flamethrowers. The rest of the Atlantians raised their hand in surrender, except for two, who tried to flee, but soon met their end under Tom's and Dr. Stephens's fiery bullets.
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"I love this new armor." Holly said once they had joined back up and were piling into a Humvee that would take them to the runway. "They updated all the joints and improved the exoskeletons, so it feels like you're floating."
All looked well for a moment, but then Tom remembered the men in the APC, and glanced at the explosive attachment. Fresh out of ammo. Great.
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“Stay here!” he shouted to Dr. Stephens “Do what damage you can from up here! I'm going to get lower.” With that, he unslung his sniper, took off his backpack and threw it over the edge. His body followed a moment later. He spread his arms and legs out wide, and went into a rapid free fall. The building was 30 stories high, and he experienced 25 of those at such a rapid clip that his eyes watered, and the moisture was whipped away behind him, strangely elongated from the speed of his travel. At the 4th story, he started to slow himself down with Telekenesis. It was only semi effective, but he slowed down to about 60 miles an hour. Unfortunately, that is still pretty fast.
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Tom had only a second to panic, then he hit the roof of the garage, which was still 15 feet up. He bounced straight off, at least another three feet back up in the air, then fell the remaining 18 feet to the ground, where he landed on his back.
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All he could think about was the pain. God, it was intense. All the breath was knocked out of him, and he figured he had broken a rib or two as well. The pain was so intense, it drove everything else away. Only his most basic actions, like breathing, still functioned. He layed there for a whole minute, meanwhile the APC was being controlled by stupid Atlantians! Who knows what they've done by now! At least I'm still alive. was his next thought. He layed there another 30 seconds, then forced himself unwillingly to his feet. He stumbled, but one of the Americans had noticed his spectacular jump, and came to help. Tom gratefully grasped at his arm for support.
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“Whew, that was some jump!” The soldier whistled. “Anything broken?” he asked anxiously. Tom felt his ribs, his arms, neck, everything. Nothing damaged.
+
“No, I don't understand, that was a 40 story fall! But you have to warn the others, there are some Atlantians in that APC over there, and the tanks are also manned. We have to take them out!” The soldier gave no verbal answer, instead, he turned and ran off, jumped and clutched blindly at the English hovercraft, hauled himself over, roughly shoved the pilot aside, and fired three rockets at the APC and the nearby tanks, all in the span of about 45 seconds.
+
The great hunks of metal blew up like fireworks on the 4th of July. Another soldier came over, and Tom had by now recovered.
+
“Give that guy a raise.” he muttered, than ran and jacked an Iraqi out of a motorcycle. These weren't the sissy street mopeds you saw all around town, nor was it a cool, black and white gangster motorcycle. It was a dangerous military vehicle, armed with rockets, flamethrowers, and machine guns, with 'Experimental' stamped on both sides. He launched a couple more rockets at a Humvee, and it went up in flames. He made the 'Dough nut' turn, and fired the machine guns on a group of Atlantians. The ones who didn't die scattered, and Tom did a front wheelie, coming around 90 degrees and smacking another Atlantian in the head with the back wheel. He stopped, facing a Humvee. The man behind the wheel obviously wanted to play a little chicken.
+
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To add to the effects, it started raining, and the man flared the engine. Tom kicked back the kickstand, twisted the throttle, and they were off, down a 100 ft stretch of asphalt. Tom gritted his teeth, getting ready for his secret move. He wasn't going to turn, nor was the other guy. And yet Tom wouldn't be run over. He had practiced this so many times, but it just came down to sheer timing. 90 ft to go, and Tom could already smell the other vehicle's fumes. Its engine had been damaged, and it was leaking gasoline. That was good. 80 ft to go. The windshield was slightly cracked in a spider web pattern, where someone had shot at him. 70 ft to go. He heard the revving of his engine, roaring down the pathway. 60 ft. 50. 40. 30. He could see the man, his gritted teeth, and unkempt, greasy black hair. His mind focused on one thing, the thing that he had to do to survive. 20 feet. 10. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, with 4 feet to go, he kicked the motorcycle so that it was down on its side, but still moving, meanwhile he jumped up in the air, above the Humvee, a C4 stick in his hand. His motorcycle sped underneath the Humvee, and Tom landed on the roof, rolled off, and landed back on his motorcycle. He had shoved the C4 stick in through the cracked windshield, and that, coupled with the leaking gasoline, would end up with the driver's death. He drove a ways off, then skidded to a stop. The Humvee was still going. What had happened? Why hadn't the explosive gone off? Was it a dud?
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BOOM!!! It did go off after all, and the Humvee was enveloped in an ever expanding wave of orangish-yellow flames. They licked off the metal of the Humvee with an almost caressing behavior. The man behind the wheel uttered a silent scream, then was no more. Tom panted for breath.
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The rest of the Atlantians were being mopped up. Only about another 15 were holding out bravely, peaking out behind the burning tanks and opening up a round or two, then ducking back behind cover. They were giving the Americans a fair deal of opposition. Tom ran, and picked up his backpack. He snuck up behind them, and stabbed one with a katana. The English soldiers had taken out another three, and another met his end from Dr. Stephens's sniper. Tom slashed at another, but as he fell  another Atlantian stabbed over him. The blade didn't pierce his Kevlar, but he had already called over a few of his buddies to help. Tom evaded them with a back hand spring, bringing out two P22s in the process. He emptied both clips, and most of the men fell down to the ground with sickening thuds. Only about three were still alive, and Dr. Stephens picked off another, for a grand total of two left.
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They fought to the bitter end, but these weren't ordinary foot soldiers. These were two officers, armed with spears and daggers. Tom laughed in their faces, bringing out his two Desert Eagles. To his surprise, the men moved with incredible speed, and knocked the guns out of Tom's hands, slicing them in the process. Tom gave a yelp of pain, and involuntarily stepped back. The Atlantians advanced menacingly, and Tom knew he was in trouble. No one could save him. The Americans were busy taking care of a few of the Iraqis who had come in with the Atlantians, the English soldiers were on the other side of the tanks, and so couldn't see him, or hear him. Even Dr. Stephens couldn't help, because a group of Atlantians had somehow managed to scale the 40 story building, even though it had virtually no handholds. Just him...
+
Yet he knew he could do it. Their was no other option. He hurled both his katanas at one man. The first one was deflected, the second drove into his torso. He was pinned to the wall, but he was still alive. The second one looked over at his partner with shock and grief written clearly all over his face. He was distracted, and in the momentary lapse of defense, Tom brought out his Glock 20s and emptied the two clips on the one man. The result was predictable. He fell to the ground, a spreading rosette of dark, scarlet blood issuing from his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head, and falling forward,  hit the ground with a sickening thud.
+
The other man was still pinned to the wall, and Tom, taking pity on him, granted a quick death: a three finger strike to his throat, crushing his windpipe. The man would have felt no pain at all.  
+
  
 +
"I wouldn't say floating, but we can actually move, yeah. Sixty pounds of armor, another forty or fifty pounds of ammo and equipment while we're fighting."
  
Dr. Stephens had taken care of the small group of Atlantians, and the Americans had driven out the remaining Iraqis. The Heli-plane had long since taken off, with some of the most precious cargo imaginable. It had been sent straight from New York, and had been carrying millions of dollars in cash, as well as a treasure load of Biological samples of various animals. These were more highly valued than gold, because with these came the ability to raise an army from scratch in less than a month. Tom was actually feeling kind of cocky. He had secretly put a tracer on the Heli-plane. Now, not only would they get the samples and money back, they would also know the location of their main enemy's main Head Quarters. He strutted out from behind the tanks, and only stopped when he saw Matt.
+
They exited the Humvee and boarded the AC-130, strapping themselves in for the two-hour flight to the Russian encampment. Atlantis was a big place.
  
==Illustrations==
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"We should meet up with an Atlantian Zeppelin about ten miles out from the base, set up a zip line, and Orca will ride across to our bird." An operator told them over their helmet's internal comm. "We've got two hours till the drop, so make yourselves comfortable."
[[Image:Cover.jpg|200px]]
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This was the original cover for the Atlantis Escapade. Cool huh? In this drawing, Tom is holding what is supposed to be an FN Scar and a Desert Eagle. Complain to Will if you have any comments.
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[[Image:Soldier.jpg|200px]]
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Matt pulled an oxygen mask from its cradle behind his head and slotted it over his face. They would be going high enough that it would be hard to breath. His full-helmet had its own internal air scrubbers, but they could recycle air for a maximum of 20 minutes, and anyways he didn't want to use up his oxygen reserves just for the flight.
A random Atlantian royal guard. Niiiice.  
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[[Image:Warrior.jpg|200px]]
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For the next hour and a half, the crew alternated cleaning their weapons, adjusting their sights, fine-tuning fore-grips and mounted grenade launchers and high-intensity halogen flashlights, and taking cat-naps.
First ever drawing of Dr. Shang with chocolate spilled on it. Great job Will!
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[[Image:Warrior2.jpg|200px]]
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Carter roused the crew fifteen minutes prior to their scheduled rendezvous with the Atlantians. Each of them went through their final pre-launch equipment checklist, making sure everything worked correctly, then checked eachother's gear.  
The cover for the second book in the Atlantis trilogy. Yes, that's right, there will be three books in all which include the character Tom. I'm not gonna give away anything more.
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[[Image:Cover2.jpg|200px]]
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Matt felt his heart speed up as the AC-130 pulled into a steep dive. They would have to get lower if they wanted the zeppelin to be able to keep pace.
The newer, improved version of the cover for the Atlantis escapade, with a messy title.  
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[[Image:Chopper.jpg|400px]]
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"Alright, boys and girls, time to get suited up." The operator said as the red light blinked on. The six of them slid full-face helmets on over their padded skull caps and made sure the oxygen tanks were fully charged. It would suck to black out from the G's taking away the oxygen from your brain, and end up dying because you couldn't hit a control at the right moment.
An awesome drawing of an Apache Longbow, the newest type. Sweet Chinook in the background.
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Latest revision as of 00:37, 27 November 2010

Book One: Atlantis Rising


Written by Brandon Krupczak


Atlantis Rising: Chapter 1 Atlantis Rising: Chapter 11
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 2 Atlantis Rising: Chapter 12
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 3 Atlantis Rising: Chapter 13
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 4
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 5
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 6
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 7
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 8
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 9
Atlantis Rising: Chapter 10

Hello people reading this! You may have accidentally stumbled upon a book that is under way currently. The book is basically about World War Three, in a world where there are eight continents. The eighth is Atlantis, which surfaces in December of 2012. Maybe the Mayan calendar wasn't counting down to this day, but counting up to the day when Atlantis would rise above the oceans once more, supposedly.

Below is a random chapter from the book that I display here on the front page. The link above brings you to the page that the chapter is actually housed at. If you scroll down to the very bottom, you'll find my work in progress section, where I write the next section/chapter of the book. Because I start writing completely fresh chapters, the work in progress section might end in a fragment of thought, or there might not be anything displayed there.

Please also note that none of my writing here is completed and I go back numerous times to a piece to improve it. The chapter below will be changed multiple times and improved upon, so if you read it now you might wanna check back every now and again to see if I changed anything.

Also, please note that any writing I do here is written to entertain, and therefore the story has to fit in with itself, so please excuse any religious or opinionated writing I have here and do not take it into offense. Please don't copy my work. It's not nice.


Also check out my friend Jamie Knox's writing here:

Reaper's First Drop

And here's a new, alternate account of the war, from the perspective of an elite soldier from an elite Black-Ops Spec-Ops division.

Atlantis Rising: Perfect War

And another little project of mine. Here, I'm writing about the video game Fallout 3. The setting, premise, and some of the characters are not my creation, but basically I'm taking the game and writing my own addition.

Fallout 3

An additional project, using the concept and setting of the Fallout universe again. This is an idea I've wanted to explore: A Fallout game in the Carribean.

Fallout: Caribbean

And a Halo project, told from the perspective of a Marine Fireteam. Just regular soldiers, not Spartans or even ODSTs.

Halo: Fireteam


[edit] Atlantis Teaser

"Soldiers, you will be deployed via fast-rope. You will rappel down to the ground and await the indicator in your HUD before beginning. As soon as you see the signal, you may begin. Good luck, recruits. Up first: Echo Squad! Squad Leader, make sure your squad's gear checks out."

The DS gestured to Matt, and all of them went and gave one another triple buddy checks.

"Ready when you are, Frost!" Holly yelled over their Team comm.

"Roger that, Aura." Matt yelled back. Each of them had callsigns. His was Frost. Jamie's was Scorch. Scar was Flare. Malcolm was Spark. Holly was Aura. "Alright. Squad, move out! Go, go, go!" Matt barked.

Scar attached her rappel harness to the line and jumped out the side, one hand on the rope above her, and the other below and slightly behind her butt, the "brake" hand that controlled how fast the line went. Malcolm followed, then Jamie, then Holly. Matt was the last one out, as befitting his status of Squad Leader.

Scar landed, disengaged her harness, and let it drop to the forest floor. A crew would come later and get it.

Soon the entire squad was on the ground, and Matt quickly led the squad under cover of the trees. As soon as the V-22 Osprey was out of sight, they doubled back and went after the bird. They kept the lines from the rappel - there was always a use for thirty feet of tough nylon.

The countdown timer in Matt's HUD read D + 15:07 when Matt raised his fist, the sign to halt. With slow, exaggerated sign language, he indicated for the team to spread out and climb the trees. Jamie went with Matt in one tree. Scar went by herself, and Malcolm and Holly shared a third.

"Frost, requesting permission to re-format to a sniper?" Scar whispered over the Teamcomm.

"Roger that, Flare. Permission granted. Scorch, outfit yours with the AR. Aura, you're our grenadier. Get the XM320 on there." The XM320 was a single-shot 40mm grenade launcher that could be attached to their carbines. Matt put one on his. Malcolm preferred a straight-up assault rifle.

Beside Matt, almost completely invisible in the heavy jungle shadow, Jamie lay prone along two branches, with his AR balanced on a third branch with a clear line-of-sight to the ground.

Matt slid down from the tree. "Spark, get down here and help me create a barricade. We need to push any incoming squads into one firing lane. Scorch, Flare, give me a dot." In response, Malcolm slid from his tree, and both Scar and Jamie highlighted the firing lane that they had access to with red laser-dots. Matt took armfuls of brambles and thin, thorned vines and dumped them to the left and right of the lane, in between the trees, to create a natural-looking wall that would influence the squads to find an easier way through. Right through their lane of fire.

Matt strung triplines further out into the jungle with the Nylon cables, attaching them to frag grenades.

Matt's countdown ended. "Alright people, we can now shoot at and be shot. Let's wrap this up." Malcolm laid the last armful of brambles in place, and then they both scampered up into their separate trees. There were five other squads in this particular mission, all within a square mile. It wouldn't be long before they had some hits.

Five minutes passed, and no one came. The squad was getting impatient. "Spark," Matt whispered. "Be the rabbit. I need you to go along the lane and see if you can draw some fire, then sprint back here. We'll cover your approach. I'd do it myself but I'm not fast enough."

"Roger that, lead." Malcolm said, grinning. "I've always been one for the suicidal frontal charge." He slid down his tree, landing in the brush below. Before he had even gone two minutes, the sound of gunfire erupted through the forest. "Frost, I've got multiple targets here. They've got me pinned, I could use some assistance!"

Matt looked to Holly. She nodded, slid down, and circled around to the right to counter-flank the guys surrounding Malcolm. "Spark, help is on the way. How long can you hold?"

"I've got good cover, I'm inside a shallow cave-thing in the ground. I can hold out a while."

"Roger that. Keep your head down, but keep the attention centered on you. And watch out, they'll try to advance. Watch your flanks."

"You got it, Frost." Malcolm said, and tossed a grenade out the opening of the cave. It exploded, and Malcolm heard someone groan. "Yeah, bring it!" He shouted.

Holly took up a firing position, sighted through her scope, and tagged a soldier in the back of his head. He dropped like a load of rocks, asleep by the time he hit the ground. Return fire peppered the rock she had been hiding behind, and two soldiers broke off to get her. But Holly wasn't there anymore.

A soldier fell as rounds tore into his inner thigh. He dropped to the ground, not out yet but with a crippled leg. He hobbled behind a piece of cover as Holly filled the air with bullets around the second soldier. A grenade rolled to a stop next to her, and at this she turned and fled back the way she had come, then darted back, and got the attention of the two remaining soldiers pinning Malcolm.

At the momentary distraction, Malcolm bolted out of the hole, sprinted from rock to tree, from tree to bush, from bush to ground, and drew the soldiers down through the firing lane, followed a second later by Holly. Jamie adjusted his grip on the AR as the two squadmates ran down the path. 30 seconds later, the first soldier popped into view. Jamie waited until the last soldier appeared, then nailed the one closest to any viable cover.

The steady thrum of the AR set Matt's head pounding, and he opened fire on the last one in the line. Then Scar fired, and a round slugged the first soldier in the chest.

Jamie's target fell from hits to the leg, side, and shoulder. He wasn't quite gone, but almost. Jamie finished him off with another quick, sustained burst.

Matt's soldier dropped to the ground, out for the count with five rounds in his chest and more in his left arm.

Scar's target took the heavy caliber bullet in the chest and sat down with the force, hard, landing on his butt and jarring his head. Before he could recover, Scar punched another round into his chest. He spun halfway around and ate dirt.

Four down. The last soldier turned to flee, but Holly popped out of the shadows and nailed him with a grenade from her XM320, which cast training rounds into a wide arc everywhere, painting the nearby forest a vivid crimson.

"Alright!" Jamie crowed.

Matt disengaged his spent clip and slapped a new one in. "Let's hope the other squads come running for the noise. One down, three to go, gentlemen."


The next squad was slightly smarter. Instead of running pel-mel into the contested area, they sent one scout on ahead through the firing lane, and the rest hung back and encircled the target area. Too bad for them, Matt's squad had moved from the one killing field and into another close-by clearing, where they could easily spot the would-be flanking attack.

"Open fire!" Matt yelled, and the two soldiers in sight twisted around, trying to find the source of the noise. One was slugged by a heavy cal. sniper shot, and the other fell to the combined fire from Jamie's AR and Matt's carbine.

Holly and Malcolm, still on the ground, rose out of a cover of leaves and dead brush and moved around behind the three soldiers left that came running. Standing up, they nailed two with one salvo of fire.

The last one hit the dirt and rolled under a log. Holly and Malcolm pursued.

"Negative! Disengage!" Jamie yelled, and opened fire into the brush to their left.

Holly hit dirt. Malcolm followed half a second later with three rounds stitched across his back. He wasn't out yet, but his entire suit was getting quickly more rigid.

He turned onto his back and fired in the general direction of where the shots had come from. Holly sidled around to him and took out a fake med-pack, wiping clean the Training Rounds and administering an electric shock through the armor. Malcolm's suit unstraightened a little, and Malcolm crawled back into better cover.

Jamie was still firing bursts from his AR at the last squad. Matt held his fire; there was no clear target in view, and to give away his position would be stupid. Scar attached a flash suppressor to her rifle, and started shelling the squad's general position.

"Watch flankers." Matt advised, seeing shadows moving behind her. Scar turned and nailed one soldier who had tried to flank her, and Matt caught another with a grenade.

Matt slid to the ground as Jamie covered him, landed, and ran in a half-crouch to Holly. He saw a rifle barrel poke out of a bush, saw a blast coming their way, and tackled Holly to the ground. The burst nailed him in the calf and he rolled up into a crouch.

Matt rolled off and came up firing. Jamie suppressed the soldier that had just shot at them while Matt took him out, Holly and Malcolm covering his flank.

Then Scar took multiple sustained bursts from the last soldier from the other squad, and toppled from the tree. She was out cold. Fury ignited in Matt. Toppling her from the tree was not necessary, and she could have injured herself. He and Holly outflanked the soldier and drilled him to the ground with long automatic fire.

They split and threw themselves behind rocks, Matt reloading as he went. There were two left on the other team and three left on his; Malcolm had been drilled again in his helmet.

Jamie's AR barked again and again. With his suppressive fire, Matt darted from cover to cover and distracted the two soldiers long enough for Holly to creep around and take the first one out. The last soldier sprayed fire everywhere, panicking, and continued even as Matt, Jamie, and Holly's combined fire drilled him into the ground.

The DS broke through their comm. lines, "Cease fire. Echo team, you have won the mission. We will collect you shortly. Hold position."

"Roger that." Matt responded. "Alright, lady and gentleman. We won!"

The survivors of Echo Team gazed around at all the unconscious forms before them. They may as well have been dead. It was only now that Matt got the first hint of what a war could really be like. He would have to do better, make sure none of his crew got hurt, ever. This was one simple mission, and two of his own had gone. What would have happened had they been live rounds? Scar and Malcolm, dead, blink of an eye, without ever seeing their attackers. What was this going to come to?


This was war.


[edit] Work In Progress Chapter 14


"You guys have got to check this out." Malcolm said as they boarded a cargo lift. "So the new shipments of Croc Armor have come in while you two were away, but the boys have been working overtime developing some gear strictly for the Shock Forces. I've gotten to work fitting our new armor with all our old custom stuff, but with some new toys."

"What kind of toys?" Jamie asked, yawning. Upon arrival back at Firebase Bravo, he and Matt had been debriefed, taken several hot showers, and stuffed their guts with the contents of several MREs. Life was good.

"Dude DWAI. You'll see in just a sec."

The lift sank several stories into the ground, to where Ford had had a Research and Development Lab excavated and lined with a fast-drying concrete substitute while Matt and Jamie were gone.

It was the classic Malcolm workshop scene, with tables and workbenches lining the walls, equipment strewn all over the place in differing states of organization. But for some reason the lights were dimmed to half-intensity, throwing the room into deep shadows.

They got off the lift and stood for a second. Matt inhaled the stale air and examined the sets of armor that lay draped over tables, gauntlets and shoulder pauldrons dismantled.

"I don't see anything." Jamie said after half a minute.

"I do." Malcolm said, unable to contain a grin.

Matt looked harder. "Oh. Clever."

"What?" Jamie asked.

Matt reached out with one hand and gently probed the flickering semi-shadow before him. It laughed, so Matt grabbed the camouflage cloak and pulled it off.

The figure laughed again. Matt could now see the armor in greater detail, but the invisibility mechanism still worked amazingly well.

Scar and Holly tapped some controls on their gauntlets from inside their new armor and solidified into the visible spectrum.

Malcolm hit the lights, and the room lit up.

"Awesome! I want one." Jamie cackled.

"Pretty sweet." Matt agreed. "How does it work?"

"Unfortunately it sucks up power like a wild hog." Holly said, detaching a power cable from her back. "So the armor can't support it for much longer than a minute in combat situations unless its plugged into something."

"It's none of the 'Oh, I'll take a miraculous video of whats behind me and put it in front of me and for some reason it looks like I'm invisible' crap." Malcolm explained. "That would require the entire exterior of the armor to be covered in video screens. Instead, the armor's on-board computer gets a general bearing of its surroundings and then tells its new photo-reactive armor plates to change color and shade depending on what it registers. Like we said, the computer system and the photo-plates suck power really fast, so you can only do it for about a minute on one power cell."

"What's the cape for?"

Malcolm winced. "Cloak. Camouflage cloak. It's to break up the humanoid figure. Our eyes identify things by shape and color, so if we blur the outline of your body and minimize the difference in color you're practically invisible."

Matt crossed to the worktables and inserted his arm into a gauntlet, then pulled a switch and a blade jumped out of the side. "Nice."

"Yeah. Retractable gauntlet blades, your custom elbow spikes, high-density non-standard issue gel bladders, M5 fiber gloves in the gauntlets, steel knuckles, integrated sonic pulse emitter in the helmet speakers. And then some of the newer stuff, we've got optional gauntlet attachments, custom-fit for each of us. Jamie's, Scar's, and mine shoot flames. Yours, which is a much smaller attachment, can send an electric shock through the gauntlet and anything you're touching. Holly's shoots a gas grenade loaded with tear gas. Of course, the rebreather and visor in the helmet will make you impervious to gas attacks."

"Thank heaven." Jamie snickered. "Finally, a piece of equipment that's been Matt-proofed."

"Somehow, I knew you would say that."

"And I did."

"Yes you did."

"Okay."

"Alright then."

A few seconds passed in silence.

"Awkward." Scarlett stated.

"Right. Anyway." Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Mark Two armor, really cool stuff. And it came in just in time, too."

"Meaning?" Holly asked.

"We're about to get sent out again. All of us, to go mop up that Russian detention outpost you two were at. It's a joint operation between us and the Atlantians - first official mission together, just to kinda test the waters."

"So they're sending five Shockers and how many Atlantians?" Scar asked.

"Well, a bit more than us five. And you're not gonna like it."

The five of them packed their new armor and weaponry into armored crates, and Malcolm lead the crew back up to the ground floor, and from there they commandeered a Humvee for the short cross-camp drive to the armory.

Inside the semi-enclosed courtyard was a flurry of pre-mission activity. Soldiers, dressed in the head-to-toe matte black version of the newest Mk II armor, jogged from place to place, securing ammo crates, inspecting gear, loading vehicles.

Ford stood on a raised platform just outside the armory wall in one corner of the courtyard surveying the proceedings. He was dressed in cut-down CROC armor and an eyepiece instead of a helmet. From time to time aides dashed up to him carrying messages, then just as quickly disappeared. Carter stood at his shoulder, helmet in hands.

When Ford saw the five 'Shockers,' he motioned them over. The 13's, who had been dubbed thus by the Marine Shock Forces, felt it their due to come up with a name in return. Hence, Shockers.

"Guys, suit up. We're going in first to soften up the AA, and then when the main strike force arrives, we breach buildings, grab all the sensitive material we can find, then high-tail it out when the bombing starts. Clear?" Carter asked.

"Yes sir!" The crew responded as one.

"Right. We'll be dropping in out of the new HALE rocket pods - High Altitude Low Entry Shock n' Awe drop pods. Just like the video games." Carter continued. "AC-130 flies by and drops us off, waits till we hit the AA, then drops down and provides support fire."

Ford nodded. "We'll be dropping you guys in addition to Orca Team, so you'll have some more numbers to fill out the ranks at first. Find and destroy as many AA emplacements as you can, then call it in and sit tight."

"Right. Let's get this show on the road."

"Yeah, lets go plan some more cliches on the plain ride." Scar rolled her eyes.

"At least it made sense this time." Malcolm pointed out.

"Hey!" Matt laughed.

The five of them split up into the locker rooms in the armory and helped eachother into their armor. It took about ten minutes to gear up in their armor, then another five while they signed out and inspected their custom weapons, each enhanced to fit the user. Matt's HK UMP-45 had been modified for higher muzzle velocity, and Matt had custom-ordered his own magazine design that held thirty-five instead of twenty-five rounds, and was fatter and wider instead of longer. Matt had also kept the SMG's distinguishing .45 ACP rounds for increased stopping power.

The rest used XM8's in various configurations, with the exception that Jamie swapped his MP7 for a M1014 combat shotgun.

Now that the Mk. II armor had an integrated anti-armor missile weapon system, Matt didn't need to carry a rocket-launcher or grenade launcher, but instead strapped an MP7 to his thigh, a Magnum under his shoulder, and an electric-flanged mace across his back.

"I love this new armor." Holly said once they had joined back up and were piling into a Humvee that would take them to the runway. "They updated all the joints and improved the exoskeletons, so it feels like you're floating."

"I wouldn't say floating, but we can actually move, yeah. Sixty pounds of armor, another forty or fifty pounds of ammo and equipment while we're fighting."

They exited the Humvee and boarded the AC-130, strapping themselves in for the two-hour flight to the Russian encampment. Atlantis was a big place.

"We should meet up with an Atlantian Zeppelin about ten miles out from the base, set up a zip line, and Orca will ride across to our bird." An operator told them over their helmet's internal comm. "We've got two hours till the drop, so make yourselves comfortable."

Matt pulled an oxygen mask from its cradle behind his head and slotted it over his face. They would be going high enough that it would be hard to breath. His full-helmet had its own internal air scrubbers, but they could recycle air for a maximum of 20 minutes, and anyways he didn't want to use up his oxygen reserves just for the flight.

For the next hour and a half, the crew alternated cleaning their weapons, adjusting their sights, fine-tuning fore-grips and mounted grenade launchers and high-intensity halogen flashlights, and taking cat-naps.

Carter roused the crew fifteen minutes prior to their scheduled rendezvous with the Atlantians. Each of them went through their final pre-launch equipment checklist, making sure everything worked correctly, then checked eachother's gear.

Matt felt his heart speed up as the AC-130 pulled into a steep dive. They would have to get lower if they wanted the zeppelin to be able to keep pace.

"Alright, boys and girls, time to get suited up." The operator said as the red light blinked on. The six of them slid full-face helmets on over their padded skull caps and made sure the oxygen tanks were fully charged. It would suck to black out from the G's taking away the oxygen from your brain, and end up dying because you couldn't hit a control at the right moment.

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