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Server time (UTC): 2019-06-27, 07:14
Chuck Finley
Character information
  1. Alias
    ADA, Zulu One
  2. Mental
    Level Headed, Will do what needs to be done for the benefit of the group
  3. Date of birth
    1994-02-28 (25 years old)
  4. Place of birth
    NJ, USA
  5. Nationality
    American
  6. Ethnicity
    Caucasian
  7. Languages
    English
  8. Religion
    None

Description

  1. Height
    182 cm
  2. Weight
    104 kg
  3. Hair
    Black - Buzz Cut
  4. Eyes
    Hazel
  5. Alignment
    Chaotic Good
  6. Features
    Scar over left eye
  7. Equipment
    - M4A1 Suppressed, four magazines stacked, suited with an ACOG, Flashlight, Clubfoot Stock, and an RIS, similar to what was used while operating in the Special Forces.
    - FNX 45, four magazines loaded, suited with a mini red dot.
    - US Canvas Pacl stocked with basic resources.
    - OD Tac Helmet suited with NVGs, Aviators and a Shemagh. Black South Face Jacket, Tan plate carrier with pouches, utility belt with holster, black tactical gloves, dark blue jeans, and black jungle boots.
  8. Occupation
    EX-US Special Forces
  9. Role
    Recon / Overwatch

Background

I deployed to Chernarus with the second wave of troops which inserted directly into Kamenka from the United States at the request of NATO Our mission was simple: Establish a perimeter, ensure as many civilians as possible could be evacuated via the Balota Airstrip through the utilization of the C-130s and Chinooks provided by the United States Air Force. Simple enough right?

Evacuations were running smoothly for the most part, a few arguments and altercations had broken out, some people arguing about how much more important they were than others because they held a certain job or because they had a large family which needed to be prioritized. Issues which were easily resolved with a quick threat to remain in Chernarus if they didn't mellow out.

At 1700 hours, the crowds were dying down and one of the last Chinooks was taking off. In the back of my mind, something just seemed off. For an operation of this scale, in an area of operation contaminated with such a horrendous virus in such an inhospitable environment everything was for once going according to plan. Something was in the air though. The smell of an oncoming storm, electricity in the air, just something wrong, and unfortunately I was right.

As tail number USAF9501 took off from the ground, handgun fire could be heard coming from within the bay of the Chinook. A struggle could be observed from within the cockpit. With a sudden jerk of the controls from the pilot, the Chinook came crashing down sending shrapnel and flames in all directions. As the smoke cleared the cause became apparent, someone infected snuck aboard the Chinook and turned as it was taking off.

Smith and Ajax immediately ran in to try to assist the survivors of the crash, well at least what they thought were survivors. As they approached the wreckage Smith and Ajax were torn into by what used to be the flight crew. They were dismembered and their screams only drew more attention to us. The remaining civilians began to run and trample one another. I became separated from the last members of my squad. I had to do what instinct told me to, and that was RUN.

I knew of a little abandoned military installment outside of Pavlovo, it was supposed to be our meet up place in case shit hit the fan. Days turned into weeks which turned into months. The only thing on my mind was surviving this hell. I had to accept more than likely I would never see anyone from my crew again, I would need to trust the other survivors I ran into, but keep one in the chamber at the ready, just in case.

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