Frank Laun

[Frank Laun]

Prompt List

• Mirror
  
• Autumn
  
• Break
  
• Stuffed Animal
  
• Last Hope
  
• Sacrifice
  
• Dread
  
• Tears
  
• Breaking the Rules
  
• Choose Your Own Adventure!

[Frank Laun]

Mirror

This is set in the Past

Frank sat on the edge of a vast tropical jungle. This was his first really hardcore mercenary job since leaving the Marine Corp. He squatted in the shade of some massive tropical tree. He pulled the tiny little mirror from the backpack laying in front of him. As he sat there he started streaking his face with green and brown paint, the better to blend in with his environment. This was supposed to be a pretty straight forward hit on the leader of a small band of rebels. As he finished up his "make up" he stowed the stuff in his pack. He checked to make sure his rifle was cocked and locked. Satisfied that he was ready to rock and roll he hefted the pack up onto his back and set off.

As he began the long trek through the jungle he reflected on the circumstances that had landed him in this war torn hell hole. Those things in Iran...the horrible black eyes. His men had been slaughtered and he had been helpless to stop it. That had been the most disturbing thing he had ever seen. He had been screaming and spraying rounds from his M4, and that final attack from the black eyed monsters that wouldn't go down had left him bleeding and torn, fighting the crew chief that had pulled him into the evac chopper. Sighing, he tried to put that out of his mind as he checked his compass and his map and moved through the humid forest.

He came upon the rebel encampment easy enough. It was in a small clearing on the edge of a river. He dug himself a nice little hide on a hill over looking the camp and got his weapons ready. He was wearing a heavy kevlar vest with its ceramic trauma plates to safeguard him from small arms rounds. He loaded a 10 round drum into the 12 Saiga he had strapped to his back just in case anyone came up close. He popped out the bipod on the .308 heavily modified Saiga rifle he carried. Frank had lost all faith in the little 5.56 after he watched those blacked monsters in Iran walk through his fire. The heavy .308 was a sure fire man killer.

He laid there sweating in his hide waiting for a chance to make his shot. He swept his hair back from his face, after leaving the Corp he had just decided to let it grow, along with his beard in an effort to cover up the scars that last RPG attack had left on his face. Night fell, and still Frank remained vigilante behind his spotting scope. The camp was silent throughout the night. As dawn began to burn across the horizon Frank heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. An old WWII vintage jeep roared into the camp, with two men in the front and a machine gun mounted in the back. The rebel leader sat in the passenger seat. It was show time.

As the man stepped from the Jeep, Frank scooted over to his rifle and readied himself for the shot. He lined up and easy shot between the man's shoulder blades and slowly exhaled as he began to squeeze the trigger. The rifle bucked in his arms and he saw the man drop. He quickly cranked off another round into the prone man's head. Mission Accomplished. Now for the fun part, getting out. Frank quickly and as quietly as possible gathered his equipment. All hell had broken loose in the camp and he watched as the rebel troops began spilling out of the camp. He was going to have to haul ass...NOW.

Frank flung the branches covering his hide aside and took off in a crouched run. As he started down the hill he heard the unmistakable sound of bullets whizzing through trees. Run, Run, Run was the only thing going through his head. His legs were pumping like pistons as he ran through the under brush. He was home free...he thought. As he rounded a large tree his heart sank. There were 6 rebel soldiers hauling ass his way. They must have been out on patrol when he made the shot. He was going to have to take them down if he was going to get out of there alive.

Frank dropped to his knees and brought the rifle up. Boom, Boom, Boom...3 of the troops dropped. The other 3 threw themselves behind logs and trees. Frank was pinched, he didn't have much time before the men behind him caught up. He ran down to the next spot of cover he could find as round sang out towards him.

"Fuck this shit", he said as he pulled a grenade from his vest. He pulled the pin and lobbed towards where the rifle fire was coming from. He heard the Boom of the grenade and the screams of the two men he had filled with shrapnel. About that time the third man jumped up and charged him in a hail of bullets. Frank ducked behind a tree and prayed it was thick enough to stop the rounds. When the gun fire ceased his assailant was right on the other side of the tree. Frank quickly pulled the large African fighting machete from his back and swung it as hard as he could down on the man, almost splitting his head to the jaw.

With a grunt he pulled the machete free and sheathed it. He swung his shotgun from his back and ran towards he heard the other two groaning and screaming. They were both pretty much fragged from his grenade, but he wasn't taking any chances and blasted both of them with the shotgun. Now his path was clear he hoped. He took off again, running through the dank forest.

Frank broke out of the jungle canopy just in time to see the the evac chopper his employer had so kindly provided. He jumped through the door and shouted "GO GO GO". Behind him he heard shouts and rounds began flying towards the chopper. He rolled over and started firing back as the chopper lifted off. They were up, speeding away over the landscape. Frank sighed and lay on the floor of the chopper as it carried him back to the city his employer was in.

He stepped out of the chopper and and slowly walked into the barracks he was staying in for this job. He walked into the bathroom to rinse off his camo paint and take a shower. As he looked into the mirror, he paused for a moment. He looked like some kinda monster, covered in runny green and black paint and blood. Is this what he had become? What was he now...just a killer for hire? Well fuck the world and everyone in it. He had done his best to serve his country and they had thrown him out with nothing but his measly pension and a shiny medal. Well fuck that, he knew what he was. He knew who he was, and this it what he did best. He washed his face and looked at the scars he could still see through his beard. Things were different now, and that was ok with him.

[Frank Laun]

Autumn

This is set in the Past

Frank sat looking out the window of his history class, counting down the seconds till the bell rang. He looked up at the clock about the teachers desk and sighed, 15 more minutes of her droning on about Roman history. Frank was tired of highschool and ready for it to be over. But it was just the Fall of his junior year. Finally after what seemed like an eternity the bell rang. Finally...it was time for what he really lived for.

Frank jogged over to locker room and immediately started changing his clothes. He got padded up and headed toward the practice field. A few people were already out there along with Coach Smith. The Coach lined the boys up and led them through warm ups and stretches. After all that was finished he called for first team Defense to hit the field, and for a scout team offense.

Frank jogged out to his spot as middle line backer. He lived for the game. As the ball was hiked he charged the center. Frank practically bulldozed the boy over and was in the back field. He watched as the quarter back's eyes went wide as he closed on him. Frank smashed into him. The whistle blew. Another perfect play for Frank. Practice continued as normal, and most of the plays ended with Frank sacking the Quarter Back. It was fun to be able to release all his pent up aggression.

After he showered up in the locker room he headed out to the parking lot. Sitting in a spot close by was his new BMW M3. The car had been a nice 16th birthday present from his father. It had honestly surprised Frank, because he and his father fought almost constantly, and he had doubted he would get something similar to what his older brother had gotten for his birthday. But there it was, bright and shiny in the wanning sun. He hopped in and the motor purred to life. Slipping it in drive, he headed across town to go pick up his younger brother Kurt from a friends house.

That trip would prove to be the most important drive of his life. As he was cutting through a rough section of town, a man ran into the road. Frank slammed on the brakes and swerved to his left to avoid hitting him. As he came to a stop and tried to catch his breath, another man came out of an alley and yanked the unfortunately unlocked door open.

"Gimmie the fucking car man or all cut yo cracka ass"

A knife was shoved up against his throat. Frank was frozen with fear. He had no idea how to react. He knew he would never hear the end of it from his father if he gave the car up to some crack head, even if they would probably recover the car. He looked over at his assailant...the mans eyes were huge and he was obviously on some sort of drug.

"Oh Ok man...easy...you don't want to take this car..it belongs to Senator Laun"

"Ya right you cracka ass bitch..get the fuck out before I cut yer fucking throat!"

Frank nervously reached down to unbuckle his seat belt. As he was releasing the latch he heard shouts, and the sound of people running. He looked up to see two men in Marine uniforms charging his attacker. They tackled the man, got the knife and pinned him to the ground. One of the Marines pulled out a cellphone and dialed 911. Frank slowly eased out of the car, shaking with fear. He just there in awe, staring at the Marines. His father had always said that the military was just a bunch of losers and screw ups that couldn't find real jobs. But Frank realized his father was dead wrong, just like he was dead wrong about most things. As the police arrived, Frank approached the Marines and thanked them profusely. They told him that they were from the Recruitment station about a block up and had seen what was happening and decided to act. Frank was amazed...these men had put their lives at risk just to stop a crack fiend from stealing a rich brat's car. He took their cards and told them he would be in touch.

He got back in his car and headed to pick up Kurt. As they pulled away from the friends house and headed toward their home, Frank told him the story, about the knife, and about the Marines that had saved him. He told Kurt that he wanted to be something, be somebody like that. He wanted to join the Marines. Kurt's young eyes went wide. He knew their father was go nuts if Frank told him that. But Frank was strong, not just physically but mentally as well. If he said he was going to do something...he was going to do it.

As the pulled up the long drive way to their house Frank sat in silence. They pulled up into the garage and he told Kurt he was going on a walk to think about things. He walked away from the towards the bayou that ran behind it. He did his best thinking out in the woods it seemed. As he sat on a stump he looked at the autumn leaves all around him. Some of them were brilliant orange and yellow. But the ones that caught his attention were blood red. He thought about how he had frozen with fear. That red on the ground could have easily been his blood. Frank decided that no, he was not going to be a victim, and he was not going to just go through his life as a cog in his father's political machine. That settled it, he was going to be a Marine. For better or worse...and damn what his Father thinks.

[Frank Laun]

Break

This is set in the Past

Frank was proud to have been made the leader of his team of Recon Marines. They were all excellent soldiers and he was looking forward to leading them into battle. And with the way things were heating up in the middle east in the wake of 9/11 he knew he was going to get his chance. In fact, he had already been informed of a Recon mission being planned as a clandestine first strike into Afghanistan. A Recon team would parachute in near a river to link up with a SEAL team that had already swam up the river to establish a small forward observation. Once the Marines arrived they would begin scouting patrols and maybe stir up some trouble with the Taliban troops in the area. The main assault and invasion was still a few weeks off, but this forward element was supposed to distract and disrupt the country's "military" as a diversion to the real invasion.

Of course Frank had volunteered his team, they all wanted to go. So a few days later they where humping all their gear up the back ramp of a C-130. As they strapped all their gear down, the men were jawing excitedly about popping some hadjiis. "Cut that shit out, there ain't gonna be enough of us down there to start our own damn war...keep your shit tight, be careful and maybe we'll get some trigger time", Frank told them. The rest of the flight was silent except for the routine checking of weapons, equipment bags and parachutes. The crew chief signaled that they were approaching the drop zone. the back hatch groaned open to reveal a dark desert filled with nice large rocks to land on. First out were their equipment bags. They watched them slide down the ramp and then float down under their chutes. Then it was their turn, they attached to the line and got ready to jump. One after another they piled out the back of the plane, chutes popping and floating them down into the darkness.

Frank enjoyed the feeling of drifting down under his canopy. It was peaceful, and it was probably the last bit of peace he would have in this shit hole. As the ground rushed up, he braced and rolled on impact. He quickly got to his feet and gathered the chute up. He instructed his mean to quickly weight them and toss them in the moving river. Then they rallied up and started toward the SEAL camp upstream. The darkness way out there in the desert was eerie, they couldn't see very far even with their NVGs. But finally after a couple tense moments of trying to contact the SEALs before their sniper shot them, they crossed the wire into the relative safety of the camp.

The SEAL commander told them they had been observing trucks moving on a nearby road at high rates of speed late at night towards the mountains and all the various caves up there. The plan was for Frank's sniper and the SEAL sniper to hit the drivers in the front and rear vehicles in the convoy. Frank took the map, and the rest of the plan was for Frank and his remain two men, and the SEAL commander and his other two men to each take one flank and assault the middle trucks, seize whatever was in it and take prisoners for interrogation. Sounded simple enough for Frank. They bedded down for the night, making sure they were rested for what was about to happen the next night.

The atmosphere of the camp was one of grim determination. The men were all checking their weapons and gear and loading up on magazines and hand grenades. A couple of the guys has LAW rockets in case the sniper shots didn't disable the vehicles. Frank made sure he had plenty of the 40MM grenades that his M203 fired. He locked and loaded his M4 and got ready. Both his sniper and the SEAL sniper had already lugged their massive .50 cal rifles into position. His SAW gunner was slapping his big gun back together with a wicked grin on his face. These men were ready to Rock and fucking Roll.

As night set, the adrenaline began to flow. They were in there hidden positions on the side of the road with their SEAL counterparts on the other side. They saw hooded head lights approaching...it was go time.
As the trucks rounded a bend and started down the straight away were they were hiding, Frank heard the unmistakable BOOM of a fifty caliber rifle firing.  He heard a second shot and the first truck rolled to a stop. Then two quick BOOMs from behind them as the SEAL sniper nailed the last truck. Frank rose to a crouch, awaiting the signal from the SEALs to commence the raid on the remaining trucks. Flash Flash. That was the signal, to red flashes for his flashlight.

Frank and his men began advancing on the trucks when the shooting erupted. The men riding in the back of the trucks had come out AK's blazing. Frank dove behind a nearby rock, and yelled to his SAW man for suppressing fire. Almost as soon as he spoke he heard that SAW chattering away. Frank looked over the rock and counted two men down on the ground and no sign of anymore. He motioned his men over.

"Aight guys, lets keep our shit tight, I don't feel like getting shot...again..so we're gonna take this slow and easy I want those trucks torn apart, and try to capture as many of them as you can."

"Right Sarge"

They moved up to the last truck in the convoy as the SEALs assaulted the first truck. Frank ran up and yanked the passenger side cab door open. A very terrified Afghani sat there with his basically decapitated partner in his lap. Frank grabbed him and threw him to the ground and grabbed the zipties they were carrying and used a basic hog tie on the man. He heard the ripping of the SAW from the rear of the truck so he immediately rushed that way. One of the passengers had tried to be a hero and grabbed his AK and took a shot at Johnson, the SAW gunner and caught him square in his trauma plate. The impact knock him out of the way of a follow up shot and he quickly sprayed down the rear of the vehicle with his SAW. Frank climbed into the truck, being careful not to step in any of the bloody pieces scattered about.

The rear of the truck was filled with crates of varying sizes. He pulled his KBAR loose and pried open the first crate. It contained a nice stack of mortar rounds. Checking the rest of the crates revealed a nice amount of weapons and ammunition. These guys were suppling some one with all this stuff. He jumped down and they seized the driver of the middle truck and hogtied him as well.  Now the fun stuff would start, the trucks were stripped bar for intel, then they were to be destroyed. Frank and his mean unclipped their White Phosphorous grenades and chucked them into the trucks and watched as they began to burn. It was time to go before the gas tanks blew.

They linked up with the SEALs and their prisoners and headed back to base. Now the real fun would start. Frank seemed to be gifted at getting people to spill there guts, so he and the SEAL commander got to do the of getting them to spill it. The normal methods were working though. The suspected gun runner insurgents, were all handcuffed to metal chairs and put in different tents in the camp. The assistant drivers were the first to break, and they were almost as much in the dark as the US troops were. They said that their only contact called them and asked if they wanted to make some money by driving the trucks. They had no idea what was in the crates. But one of the men captured did know something, he just wasn't cooperating. The SEAL commander left the man in is tent and walked out to find Frank.

"Laun...you seem to be pretty good at breaking them, see what you can do."

"Sure thing sir"

Frank entered the tent and looked at the man handcuffed there. He was a surly looking man in his late 20s early 40s. He was dress in the traditional garb of the region. As Frank was approaching his chair, all hell broke loose. Apparently this guy had gone to insurgency boot camp and knew how to slip a pair of cuffs. He lunged at Frank brandishing the cuffs as a weapon. Frank backed up, and reached for his trusty knife. The suspect was right in his face swinging the cuffs at him, and Frankly was wildly dodging with trying to find a place to stick his knife. Eventually the Afghani closed on him and they fighting was just brutal hand to hand, the cuffs Frank had finally snatched away, but his knife had also been swatted away. He reared back and punched the man as hard as he could, straight for the nose. The main gasped and gurgled as the blood poured from his nose, but kept charging. Frank eventually was able to over power the smaller man, who would not quit fighting him. Despite his struggles and screams Frank got a good hold on his head. Franks eyes and veins bulged as he squeezed in on the mans skull, and then with a cross between a scream and grunt, he twisted quickly to the right, then back left again just to be sure.

As he looked at the dead body below him he could only thing one thing. He may have broken that mans neck, a man that deserved it, but the more important thing was...it had broken Franks spirit. He was scared of what he was becoming, but this act committed here had allowed him to break through to his true self....his warrior self.

[Frank Laun]

Stuffed Animal

This thread is a flashback, so its past/present

Frank sat back and flipped on the TV. The nightly news was on and as always, he watched the coverage of the war. Why wasn't that shit over with yet? Frank could have ended it in a year if he would have been in charge, with the right men and authority...it would have been over quick. He flipped through the channels till he paused briefly on C-SPAN and a voice made him pause.

He watched as his father took the microphone in the Senate Chamber and began rambling on about some sorta bullshit, Frank didn't really care what the man had to say anymore. He reached over and grabbed his glass of Turkey with a splash of Coke and took a gulp. Why couldn't things have stayed they way they were? When life was simple. When he had been a child. He sighed and switched the TV off. As he rose to go and get ready for "work" (he had an easy hunt lined up for the night). He glanced over towards the small fire place in his apartment and looked at the stuffed Deer head above it. Those had been the days when his father hadn't been so bad. Frank stood there for a moment as his mind drifted back.

Frank was 8 years old, and hunkered down in a box stand next to his father. His dad had told him to be very quiet, and that if he was they might get a chance at the nice 10 point that roamed this part of their land. Frank was almost trembling with excitement, his first buck! He had been hunting with his dad since he was old enough to climb the ladder into the deer stand, but he hadn't shot a deer until he was 7, and that had been a doe. But now..now was his big chance!

They heard a grunting and rustling in the bushes. This was it! "Quick, get ready", his father told him. Frank eased his .243 out the window of the stand, and got behind his scope. He was still shaking a little bit, but he told himself to calm down and gradually he did. As he peered down to the woods line along the pipe line they were on, a massive buck burst forth from the woods. It wasn't the 10 point they were hoping for, it was a massive beast with huge gnarled antlers, heavy and dark. Frank lined his crosshairs up right behind the shoulder and squeeeeeeeezed....BOOM. He saw the deer kinda hump over and run into the woods.

"Good shot boy"

"Thanks Dad...can I get him stuffed? You think he was big enough?"

"Son, I would stuff your first buck no matter how big he was, but that...I think that thing might go in a record book, lets go look for him."

Frank shook his head at the memory. The buck had fallen short of a record by a few points, but it was still one of the biggest ever taken out of that parish. He had had that deer with him since he was 8 years old, if his house caught fire, and he could only save one thing..it would probably be his deer.

[Frank Laun]

Last Hope

This Thread is Set in the Present

Dammit, why did Skye still have to be out on maternity leave. Frank really could have used some back up on this one. He hated the way he could never tell if a leech knew he was there. He knew they could get in your head and fuck with things, and he didn't know if this one had sensed him around or whatever. The buildings around this apartment hadn't been good at all for the usual sniper shot, so Frank had to get creative.

He had on a brown UPS uniform he had stolen from a uniform cleaning service a days prior. Underneath the shirt he had his kevlar vest on, and strapped to his ankle was his trusty P99c. The plan was for him to knock on the door, and then blow the vamp away with his 12 gauge, which was hidden in the long "delivery" box he had in his hands. But he knew these things never worked out in real life quite as well as they worked out in his head.

Frank stepped up to the door, and rang the door bell, doing his best not to think about what was going to happen shortly. Hopefully the leech wouldn't pick up any vibes. The door opened and he found himself face to face with a beautiful woman...his target. He mumbled something about a package and lifted teh box, only to have it slammed in the door then ripped from his hands before he could pull the trigger.

Oh Shit.

The vampire reached into the hall and grabbed him and threw him into the apartment before slamming the door. Frank hit a love seat and then rolled across the hard wood floors. He was scrambling to his feet when she kicked him, sending him sprawling back down. She kept kicking as he struggled to protect himself. Finally as she got ready to kick him again he grabbed her leg and pulled, hard. She fell straight down onto her ass and Frank pushed away and got to his feet.

The first thing he thought was make a run for  the shotgun, but he doubted he could outrun the angry vampire, but he was gonna try. His legs pumped as he sprinted across the foyer and dove for the gun. He ripped it free from the package, and rolled and fired a shot at the approaching vampire. She tried to dodge, but he had succeeded in blowing one of her arms to shit. But that really only made her more pissed. He noticed she was watching his trigger finger, and would probably be fast enough to dodge most of his shots, but he pulled the trigger anyway.

She was fast, and she avoid MOST of the pellets...but not all of them. She was a bloody ruined mess, but still "alive". Frank cursed as his gun ran dry...FUCK. He knew he wasn't going to get to ankle holster before she grabbed him again, so he just hoped that she would want to kick his ass, not just kill him quick and that in the confusion he could get to the little pistol. She grabbed him by the throat and once again threw him across the apartment, this time into the kitchen. Frank bounced off the counter and slammed into the refrigerator, feeling something in his left arm crack. Great, broken arm, and he was pretty sure a couple of his ribs were broken from being kicked like a soccer ball.

But she had tossed him over a counter and behind some cover. He quickly reached down and yanked the little Walther free. This was his last chance, his last hope. He was pretty banged up and if he didn't stop her now...he was done for. As she came around the corner Frank shot the first thing he saw which was her knee. With an outraged and surprised shriek she went down, and Frank instantly jumped on top of her and fired several rounds into her chest. She gurgled and blood ran from her mouth. But just to make sure, Frank put one between her eyes, which were glazed and lifeless looking...well he hoped she was lifeless by now. He slid the little gun back into his ankle holster and limped back to collect his shot gun. He was covered in blood, a mix of hers and his, and he looked like shit...the walk out of here and back to his car was sure going to be interesting.

[Frank Laun]

Sacrifice

This is set in the past

COMING SOON