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Whiskey Tango

91.1Hz

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The horizon glows with the hues of vibrant colors during sun set. Jack Whiskey sits atop a radio tower looking towards an abandoned airfield. He takes a sip of water from his damaged canteen and then picks up his radio. He ponders in his mind for a second, "Is this a good idea?" After weighing the options he presses the transmit button.

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"Attention on the net... Attention on the net...Prepare to copy, break."

"My name is Jack Whiskey and this transmission is for all survivors. I am a United States Army and police veteran. In addition, I spent my free time as an apocalypse prepper. Well, it seems like we have found ourselves in a predicament and the training has paid off so far, break."

"I am seeking survivors that need training in apocalyptic survival. I am more than willing to train, the inept survivalist, necessary skills they do not yet have. This is a shitty time that we live in and you need to take it upon yourselves to adapt and overcome. The power curve is great but with my assistance, it can be accomplished, break.”

“I am able to train you in wilderness survival, urban survival, self-defense with melee weapons, the use of American and German made firearms, scavenging, basic medical treatment, and much more. I have my own survivalist camp that all training can be achieved in. If you are lacking in survival skills please respond to this transmission. Contact me via this frequency when you reach the rendezvous point at Black Mountain, out.”

Jack places his radio back into his cargo pocket. He stands up, throws his black drybag over his shoulders, and proceeds down the hill.

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Kronos    1

*The radio would crackle to life. Heavy static, muffled shouting and gunshots can be heard in the background.*

"PPSHH..LLO?PSSHH.. CAN YOU RE-...PSSHHHH-"

The radio would cut off.

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Jack Whiskey scrambles to reach his radio from his cargo pocket. He turns it down and quickly runs to the corner of the room. His eyes peer out the window checking to see if anyone heard the loud noise. After several minutes of no movement Jack sits down. He thinks to himself, "Damn, that boy sounds like he is in some shit."

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Chris wakes up hearing loud noises. He grabs his radio and hears a kid trying to maintain a broadcast. So he presses the button "Can't copy kid, say again! Over. "

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Kronos    1

Hours later, the radio would once again be heard. This time there would be less static and what sounds like something banging against a door could be heard in the background.

*HEAVY BREATHING* I'm.. I'm going to do it. I'm going to fucking do it. We.. I couldn't hold them back.

*CLICK*

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While farming, Chris heard it again. His radio beeping from his backpack.

"*HEAVY BREATHING* I'm.. I'm going to do it. I'm going to fucking do it. We.. I couldn't hold them back."

He heard. So quickly he pushed the button:

"Where are you? I am coming to help, over."

He hoped it wasn't too late.

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Tybalt    0

Tybalt leaned against a tree, scanning the field in front of him. He thought "Hope this radio I found works" as he put a battery in it. He started to open a can of peaches as he scanned the channels. When the radio got to 91.1Hz he heard ".. Attention on the net...Prepare to copy, break." Tybalt spilled half the peaches on the ground reaching for the radio. He listened to the message from Jack Whiskey. He thought " Black Mountain... huh. I can be at the rendezvous point in a few days." He fished what was left of the peaches.

A bit later the radio came to life with loud static. ""PPSHH..LLO?PSSHH.. CAN YOU RE-...PSSHHHH-" Tybalt covered the radio with his hand to muffle the sound. " Holy shit, that doesn't sound good." He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes, for a little rest.

Some hours later Tybalt was woken by the radio. It was the same person again broadcasting. Quickly followed by another person asking for the firsts location. Then all was quite. Tybalt thought "I need to help this person before I head to the rendezvous point. Hopefully I can escort them to Black Mountain."

"Prepare to copy, break."

"Copied last Jack Whiskey. This is Ty Russ, I am US Army Solider. Lost my team during the event. My plans are.... were to head to rendezvous point. Now I'm going to try and make my way to the one in trouble. Then escort them to the rendezvous point, break"

"To the last transmitters can I get a location for you? I will head your way as soon as you respond. Repeat, To the last transmitters can I get a location for you? I will head your way as soon as you respond, break."

"This is Ty Russ, out"

Tybalt takes a drink of water from a bottle. He doubled checked his weapons were loaded. He grabbed his dry bag and put it on. He picked up his hat and got ready to head out. In a low subdued voice he said "This could get interesting."

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"Copy Ty, names Dr. Chris Daniels. I am currently at a location I cannot reveal, though the area of Vybor and North West Airfield is best to describe it. I am all by myself and I am afraid my knowledge of farming and the apple trees in the area are not going to be enough for me to survive. Need assistance, over.

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There is nothing but desolation as Jack Whiskey looks down from the hill. He hears a bunch of commotion on the radio. Something about a United States Army soldier and a doctor. He thinks to himself, "This hoopla is not what I intended".

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"Soldier, do what you need to do. I don't understand what you mean you lost your squad. There was not supposed to be boots on ground for the United States Army. You can inform me when you get here, out.”

Jack places his radio back into his cargo pocket. He stands up, throws his black drybag over his shoulders, and proceeds to the airfield.

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Tybalt    0

Tybalt scans the fields in front of him. Just as he gets ready to move out the radio comes to life. He listens to Dr. Daniels' transmission.

"Copied last, break."

"Doc I am only a few klicks south of your location. Will contact you when I'm closer to the airfield. Sit tight and contact me if trouble finds you, break."

"Ty Russ over and out."

Tybalt thinks " I hope this Doc is gonna be ok. I heard some shot coming from the airfield earlier." He starts to move thru the tree line slowly. Scanning around as he moves.

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When Chris heard the radio come to life again, he was just about to cook his last boar steak. He jumped so quickly his arm touched the stone furnace he built and he screamed of pain: 'AHHH DAMN IT'.

After he calmed down, he took the radio and said:

"Copy, heard them as well, will inform you if anything bad goes down, over."

Then he just sat down, waiting for his steak to cook...

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Jack Whiskey looks down upon a city as he leans against a tree. He watches a unsuspecting survivor running like a chicken with his head cut off down the middle of the road. He thinks to himself, "Look at this dumbass, a sitting duck." He puts the radio to his mouth and begins to read the paper in his other hand.

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"Attention on the net... Attention on the net...Prepare to copy, break."

"My name is Jack Whiskey and this transmission is for all survivors. I am a United States Army and police veteran. In addition, I spent my free time as an apocalypse prepper. Well, it seems like we have found ourselves in a predicament and the training has paid off so far, break."

"I am seeking survivors that need training in apocalyptic survival. I am more than willing to train, the inept survivalist, necessary skills they do not yet have. This is a shitty time that we live in and you need to take it upon yourselves to adapt and overcome. The power curve is great but with my assistance, it can be accomplished, break.”

“I am able to train you in wilderness survival, urban survival, self-defense with melee weapons, the use of American and German made firearms, scavenging, basic medical treatment, and much more. I have my own survivalist camp that all training can be achieved in. If you are lacking in survival skills please respond to this transmission. Contact me via this frequency when you reach the rendezvous point at Black Mountain, out.”

Jack takes the radio away from his mouth and tucks the paper in his grey sweatshirt pocket. He continues to look at the moron running through the city like a school girl.

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Tybalt    0

Tybalt peered thru the pine trees and checked to makes sure no one was around. He pulled out his radio and thought for a moment.

"Prepare to copy, break."

"Doc sorry the Tangos at the airfield fired upon me. Had to reroute to new location. Was tracked for a day and a half. Seems I have evaded them and have no signs of them for awhile. Bad news, I ended up on north east coast. Will head back out that way soon and will keep you up to date."

"Jack Whiskey scouted rendezvous point. Have positioned myself close in cover. Awaiting further instructions on meet up."

"Ty Russ over and out"

Tybalt slipped the radio back into his pocket and took up watch over the area to ensure no one was still following.

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Chris was searching for his old headphones, light green with a weird sign on it.

He then heard the broadcast, and quickly took his radio and said:

Copy you Ty, I have moved locations as well and am at North East as well. Cannot reveal at the moment. Will do. Over and out.

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Pedro runs into a small green house, breathless. Rick greet him coldly, a single nod. 'Any luck?' 'A -cough- a man, standing on the hill to the south. He saw me come in.'

Rick curses under his breath, worrying for a second, before retrieving a bottle of water from his backpack and tossing it to Pedro, saying 'Hydrate, we've got a long walk ahead.' Whilst Pedro gulps thirstily, Rick quietly gets out his radio.

*The radio sputters*

Whoever you are, watching us from the hill, stay away. We have important business and we'd appreciate it if-

*He pauses, looking anxiously at Pedro*

We'd like very much for you to stay away. Over.

Rick returns the radio, this time to his back pocket. He might have use for it again soon. 'You ready?' He says. 'That man, was he-' 'He won't bother us any more. Now lets move.' After checking the hill again, Pedro nudges Rick. The man in the grey sweatshirt was gone.

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Jack Whiskey looks at his radio smiling. He thinks to himself, "Don't tempt me son". He places the radio down and takes a strip out of his can of tactical bacon. He rips it off like a piece of beef jerky and picks the radio back up.

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Son, if I wanted to kill you, you would be laying in the street by now. Quit being so melodramatic. It appears you are scared of something, or someone. Let me know if you need help.

Jack take another piece of processed bacon out of the can and tears off a piece. He looks down from the mountain waiting for a response.

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Kronos    1

Shaun would be treading through the dense forest, until he would come across a handful of infected devouring a poor soul. He would carefully walk around them, trying to avoid their attention.

*SNAP*

A twig would snap, echoing through the silence. Then screaming. "Shit, shit, shit!". Shaun would sprint through the forest as fast as his legs could carry him.

Holding down the 'transmit' button on his radio, Shaun would quickly spurt out a message.

"I am on my way' date=' but *pant* I might have brought some *pant* unwanted company."

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drewhinny    0

Mike looks at his radio very reluctantly. At first he decides not to pick it up... But has a change of heart, as he thinks back to his old group. He thinks to himself, "they woulda wanted me to move on..." He finaly hits the button...

**Hey jack, how you doin? Names Mike Dugan, and it's nice to hear a friendly voice out there. It also sounds like you know what you're doin. I was with some people as in a group... Not sure where they went off to, but I think about them every day. Hope they make it back ok... Anyway, I would like to meet up with you, and see what real survival is all about. We might even hit it off right away, then bada boom were friends... Well I could use a friend right about now, since I don't know where mine are. Hope your still out there doin ok. Take er easy buddy.**

Mike nods back off to sleep as he downs his last pipsi.

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Jack Whiskey sits in a bunker at the Northwest Airfield looking over a military encampment. He takes a sip of water from his canteen and then picks up his radio. A rough sound can be heard as he clears his throat and then presses the transmit button

d9372ad445.png

"Attention on the net... Attention on the net...Prepare to copy, break."

"My name is Jack Whiskey and this transmission is for all survivors. I am a United States Army and police veteran. Well, it seems like we have found ourselves in a predicament and my training and experience has paid off so far, break."

"I am seeking survivors that need training in apocalyptic survival. I am more than willing to train, the inept survivalist, necessary skills they do not yet have. This is a shitty time that we live in and you need to take it upon yourselves to adapt and overcome. The power curve is great but with my assistance, it can be accomplished, break.”

"I am able to train you in wilderness survival, urban survival, self-defense, fireams, scavenging, basic medical treatment, map reading, and much more. I have my own survivalist camp that all training can be achieved in. If you are lacking in survival skills please respond to this transmission. Contact me via this frequency when you reach the rendezvous point at Northwest Airfield, break.”

"In addition, I am seeking survivors with Military, law enforcement, or medical experience to become trainers. Please follow the same procedure above to make contact with me, over

Jack places his radio back into his cargo pocket. He stands up, throws his rucksack over his shoulders, and proceeds into the military encampment.

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Davos    5

Mumbling to himself after trying a dozen channels, Yuri turned it to 91.1 which he hoped would get a hold of this Jack character who had radioed in. At some point he was hoping he could find someone to stick to the radio and work dispatch, but until then it was difficult to coordinate the efforts of those working for him, let alone his own route.

"Broadcasting, this is Yuri Petrovich of the Chernarus Post calling Jack Whiskey. Repeat. Chernarus Post for Jack Whiskey, respond if you are on this channel."

This was somewhere around number fifteen, or sixteen now, at thirty minute intervals, three broadcasts per channel. By now he would have assumed to have a response from anyone, but most of the channels had been dead. With any luck this one would reach the man who had called looking for their services.

"If I could only get a dispatcher, this would be so much simpler," he muttered to himself.

Still he had another nine minutes before he attempted to broadcast on this channel again. Hopefully the man hadn't been using a hand radio. The range was terrible on them, and the batteries never seemed to last. Grabbing an old pot, Yuri stared brewing a pot of coffee to help ward of the cold.

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Jack Whiskey feels a vibration in his cargo pocket and realizes it is his radio. He take it out and listen's to Yuri contact him in regards to the post deliveries. Jack key's the button

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Mr. Petrovich this is Jack Whiskey. I copy your transmission. As I stated on 101.7 I am in need of your services. If you are willing to assist me please contact me back on this frequency, over.

Jack continues to walk down the road with the radio still in his hand

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dafunk102    2

Aaron is hunkered down in a log cabin sitting by the fire playing with his radio, eating a can of Tactical Bacon and drinking Rasputin Kvass when he hears the brodacast.

Hey whats up! The name is Aaron, Aaron West I am too an American from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I'll have you know I went to Wilderness College and taught at a camp ground before I joined the US Army! A little about myself is I joined when 9/11 happened, after that I went to Officer Candidate School and became a Civil Affairs officer. You might be wondering why I'm in Chernarus right? I helped the US Marines back in 09' with the Red Harvest Ops and did a tour in Takistan. With my background I was sent to Chernarus somewhere in July with the UN Peace Keeping Force to see that the progression of local towns go in the right direction. On October 21st I was stationed in Elektro to help the local police in planning and coordination, after a few days when the place crashed into the UN HQ in Cherno Elektro was run over and I abandoned post to save who I could and sadly I saved myself. I don't know if anyone is there but I am willing to help anyone survive, I am not a combat expert as the only combat I've seen is basic training. But I can teach you stuff about survival, please if you are out there Jack or anyone respond it's getting lonely and I'm running out of beer.

Aaron opens two more cans of Rasputin Kvass, sitting in hope that someone will hear the broadcast. While he waits for the morning he leaves the radio on and plays "I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire" on his Ipod. Slowly Aaron falls asleep with the radio by his side and an AKM in his hand.

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