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JakeWalford

Introducing Raymond Booker

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JakeWalford    5

[This is a WIP story that will continue with my in character adventures expect updates]

                                                                                                     -Prologue-

Raymond shifted within the rusted interior of the Antonov AN-12 Cargo plane. His flight from Serbia to Chernarus had been a long and relentlessly turbulent one. He had never been to Chernarus, and amidst all that was going on in the world he was surprised he hadn't had a deal there before.

You see, Raymond was quite the up and coming arms trader. Especially now with the chaotic world being so incredibly run down and out of order. As it is quite hard to get in contact with any in-tact organization much less one with intercontinental transport of fire arms and vehicles. Raymond was in luck as he got into the business of supplying private military companies before shit hit the fan. Using those resources he set up communications and outposts everywhere from the Jungles of Peru to the Sands of Takistan in an attempt to keep anyone with supplies to trade stocked with arms and armour to survive this new world with. In any case Raymond preferred to oversee his deals personally in order to determine whether the deals were worth his time. As was the case with this one. One of Raymond's employees had tipped him off about Chernarus saying it was worth the investment. So Raymond was headed there with a sample of his merchandise to see if the Chernarussians wanted a taste. And so here he is on board the prop plane to a country he's never been to before along side a half ton of weaponry. The Pilot waved for Raymond to put his headset on. Raymond scratched his head as he slid the headset on.

"We're about to land boss, 5 minutes out." The Pilot's raspy voice echoed within his ears.

Raymond flung the headset back around his neck as he sat up in the crumpled aged leather seat and looked out the scratched glass of the window in the passenger seat of the cockpit. He could hear the propellers strain as the plane tipped it's nose towards the earth as a large runway came into view.

The rumble of flaps beneath the plane could be heard as the landing gear were deployed. Raymond clenched the seat as the plane touched down, feeling the runway's crumbled payment as the aircraft skidded across it. The plane came to a halt outside what seemed to be a large warehouse with a blue tin roof. Two cargo trucks could be seen within the half opened doors. The pilot moved his hands about the cockpit turning off systems and flipping switches. Raymond took this time to unbuckle himself from his seat and pry open his door to greet his soon to be business partners. As he stepped out of the plane he noticed that while there were 2 trucks in the warehouse there was no one to be seen.

The pilot stepped out of the plane and was instantaneously met with the crackle of a large calibre round to the chest. Raymond flipped himself around hearing the shot, realised that he had gone straight into an ambush. He ran towards the warehouse unholstering his handgun and clicking off the safety slid himself between the two metal doors.

He could hear the clanging of rounds impacting the plating of his aircraft. After a while the incoming fire had stopped and Raymond could hear footsteps outside the door he was crouched behind. He waited a few seconds as he caught his breath.

The barrel of a single hunting rifle poked halfway through the door. Raymond gripped the handle of the door forcing it into the gun as he grabbed the the barrel pulling it towards him. This in turn acted as a lever pulling throwing it from the hands of the man on the other side onto the ground below the two of them. Raymond fired off three shots through the gap in the door and ran for the truck on the far end of the building. A man screamed beyond the door as another entered this time firing off an assortment of shots with an automatic weapon towards the trucks. They rounds impacted into the side of the truck Raymond had taken cover on the other side of. The man could be heard yelling in another language in which Raymond had assumed was Russian. Another two men could be heard entering the building. Raymond dropped himself to the floor aiming his CZ-75 towards the entrance whilst under the truck. He was confused when he saw that there was no one in sight. Then from behind a crate rounds erupted from the barrel of what was most definitely an AKM into the passenger door of the truck. Now knowing where the man was Raymond shot off two rounds into the paneling of the wooden crate. A faint clunk could be heard as a single arm dropped into line of sight onto the ground, limp and unmoving.

The other two men could be heard shuffling around the same side of the room. Raymond decided he needed to get out while he still could as he had no idea how many were going to show up. Reaching into his pocket he pulled a lighter.

“This is a terrible idea.” He muttered to himself as he flicked the old Zippo into a flame.

He then positioned himself behind the driverside door and glancing at the leaked gasoline from the shots at the truck threw the lighter towards it running behind the second truck. The flame caught quickly racing towards the truck’s punctured fuel tank. The men on the other side of the room could be heard screaming again except this time they seemed to be running outside of the building as they did so. Raymond took notice of this and realised how small the warehouse truly was when he thought about what was about to happen. Within these thoughts he realised he once again should get out while he still could.

He opened the driver side door of the second truck and starting the engine with what seemed to be a screwdriver embedded in the ignition already wondered if this was any better of an idea. The truck slowly came to life groaning under the rusted hood of a poorly maintained vehicle. He kicked his foot down on to the pedal steering towards the two half opened sliding doors of the building. The truck veered to the left upon impact as it made it through the doorway it shredded the wooden railing within the back of the truck. As he floored across the airfield in front of the ruined plane he noticed a road leading out of the area into what looked like a field. Suddenly gunfire and crackled rifle trails could be heard impacting into the metal cabin at the back of the truck in which Raymond had taken. The men, who ever they are were intent on not letting the truck leave. Raymond sped across the concrete heading towards what looked like a toll gate. A loud pop followed by a what Raymond knew could only be a popped tire could be heard after a small burst of gunfire. The truck would not last more than a mile or two. Raymond knew this and upon exiting the airfield steered the truck into the woods nearby. Hoping when the truck died he could hide in the forest until he figured out what in the hell to do. The steering however proved difficult for him as he entered the woods and in his distressed state he neglected to notice the stump of a cut down tree and the front right tire of the truck rammed into it at an alarming speed sending the truck into a sideways spiral down a ditch. Raymond’s head slammed around the cabin of the truck until it finally stopped moving. Raymond was now unconscious within the truck.

-Hours later-

“So what is an american scum like you doing in our country hm?” A faint voice could be heard as Raymond came to his senses slowly opening his eyes. He felt unable to move, as he noticed his hands taped to a chair crudely.

Raymond looked at the man wearing a black balaclava in front of him.

“Speak american!” The man screamed slapping Raymond with the back of his gloved hand.

Raymond grimaced at the pain and lifted his head.

“Arms trade.” Raymond responded, spitting blood from his damaged lips.

“That seems about right, filthy americans poisoning our great land with their bullshit!” The man seemed to be a local.

Raymond was about the speak again when the man pulled his mask down revealing his mouth and spat on Raymond’s face.

“Fuck you foreigner scum!” The man turned his back to Raymond after saying so.

“Definitely local.” Raymond said out loud.

“Alright bratr’s, it’s time to move! Our american friend here won’t last a night. Leave him.”

The man then looked Raymond directly in the eye, and raising an old wooden bat to his head exclaimed,

“Glory to the Volki!” As he swung once again knocking Raymond unconscious.

-Chapter One, The Sink, The Captain and the Town- [Changing POV from here on]

I awoke once again with a bruised head and a scattered mind as my body ached from the previous day’s events.

This time things were different. I was unbelievably groggy, although I suppose that’s what happens when you’ve had the life beaten from you and been left duct taped to a sink in the middle of what you assume is a post soviet block country amidst a global catastrophe. Never the less I needed to get myself together and figure out what the hell was going on and how I was going to get out of this one. For whatever reason my recent captors had decided to tape my mouth this time which left any notions of screaming for help out of the question. As stupid as that may have been in a land I have no knowledge of. I attempted to wriggle myself free from the abnormal amount of duct tape that encompassed my hands around the piping of the sink. To no success it would seem. Just as I had about given up on any idea of escape I heard movement on the other side of the wall. Still bound my legs were taped together against the wall on which the sink was mounted. I attempted to slam my feet against the wall in order to make enough commotion to catch the attention of whoever was on the other side of the wall. All the while praying that it’s not one of the infected that had happened across me in my prey like state. As I did so I could hear the click of what sounded like a pump action of a sorts from around the corner of the wall. Perhaps the person was just being cautious in case I was an infected. Or maybe they don’t care regardless. Either way it would be better than starving to death here. A man wearing a flat brim cap entered the bathroom aiming a shotgun around rather clumsily if I might add.

“What do we have here?” The man lowered his weapon, and with that my heart felt a small bit of relief.

I squinted at the man and looked downwards. He removed the tape from over my mouth.

“Who might you be?” The accent seemed almost English yet the origin escaped me. Either way I had to give my somewhat savior an answer.

“Raymond.” I paused for a moment thinking if I should elaborate upon that telling him why I am here or rather what I do.

I decided it was more worth saying than not saying.

“Booker, Raymond Booker. I’m an arms trader, or rather I’m supposed to be. Not sure what I am now.”

The man procured what appeared to be an sharpened rock turned into a makeshift knife. He raised the knife to my bindings cutting them as I spoke.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I suppose it would be better to explain what lead to me being taped to a sink.”

“Might be yes.”

I ran him through my last few hours upon my arrival to Chernarus up until we came across each other.

He told me his name was Robert Morgan, a charming man as of yet. Apparently he was a recruiter of a sort for some settlement set up north. Either way we ended up making our way out of the building deep in conversation about the state of the outside world. It hit me halfway through the conversation that few people had any knowledge of how the state of the outside world had been. I felt that this relationship was going to lead to an opportunity to meet other people in this place I had stranded myself in so I knew I had to play my cards close to my chest per say. So I tried to remain faithful to the fact that I owed this man for saving me. Either way I was still thinking of ways out of this man’s company in the case that he is not quite the man he claims to be. We made our way up the roads for what seemed like a few miles, although I wasn’t too sure.

Robert clearly knew his way to his group from where we were, yet was not a local by the sounds of it. All of the signs were cyrillic so I had no idea what any of them said aside from the rough translations I had from arms trades in the past, not that they were of much help here. Nightfall proved no obstacle for him as he only appeared to stop and check if he was on path a few times. At last we reached a road with a split and a truck similar to that in which I had been in earlier sitting idle.

“We’re going to need that, hop in I know where another is. Richard is going to love this.”

It was the first I’d heard of another name from Robert and I wondered for a brief moment why that was but complied either way.

“Dusty machines these are.”

“I know, at least they run is all I can say for them.” I remembered my narrow escape earlier that day.

We drove up the road for a solid five to ten minutes before stopping out front a barn where the doors had been closed.

Robert cut the engine and sat for a moment peeking through the glass towards the barn. I hesitated to have my hand by my holster wondering if I was about to be coerced from the vehicle and made to do, god knows what. But just as quickly as the thought appeared it faded and Robert opened his door stepping from the truck towards the barn doors. He swung them open revealing another truck inside.

“This ones yours, follow me into town. And don’t run off with it or I’ll be right mad at you.”

I nodded in understanding and opened the door turning on the engine alongside the headlights. They glowed a faint light such as a burnt out lamp.

“At least they work.” Was I could think to myself.

We pulled out of the town and I followed the back end of Roberts truck for a long while. The shutter on the back kept clanging open and shut as it was poorly designed and maintained. Nearly lost my mind hearing it creak open and shut for miles on end. We finally happened across a dimly lit road where a single man could be seen rifle in hand next to a fire. It appeared he had been waiting on us. Robert pulled up to him and leaned out the window.

“Hey Richard you want these parked anywhere in particular?”

Richard looked back at me then to Robert.

“Who’s our new friend?”

“Just that Ricky, a friend. Picked him up outside Chernogorsk.”

He leaned back into the cabin of the truck.

“Just leave them here I’m going to set up a road block in case anyone happens by.”

Richard pulled the door open for Robert as I stepped out of my vehicle and started towards the two.

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Pussy    382

Really great read c: You can definitely tell you spent some time writing this, 'cause it's well thought out and written really well. 

Write more! I'm looking forward to reading it!

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JakeWalford    5

Really great read c: You can definitely tell you spent some time writing this, 'cause it's well thought out and written really well. 

Write more! I'm looking forward to reading it!

Thank you! :D

I will definitely be adding more to this when I have the time. I hope to add more encounters with other groups to introduce my character to how Chernarus works.

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Well written, I'm interested which path you are going to take from here. You could go arms dealer, civilian trader, military, anything given the background. Keep up the good work

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