More ''alduro'' stories!!
If you liked the last one - the thread on Gun Boot Camp! - try these.
He wrote these last year sometime and I thought you'd all enjoy them.
''So, There I was'' ... stories ....
So there I was....what really happens to tactical "tools" in a fight
As I was leaving my house I stuffed my Glock 10mm "man gun" mexican style in my pants. My backup is a fully customized 1911 with all the IPSC add on options in my $500.00 leather pancake holster custom made by Belgian Monks who have devoted their lives to silence and holster making. These are the ones used by SEAL Team 6, which I used to be a part of but all records of my activities were destroyed in a fire "accident".
I put on my Royal Robbins photographer vest to match my pants while wearing a T-Shirt underneath reading "from my cold dead hands", that away nobody can see what I'm packing.
I had my Centinial .38 Special in my ankle holster, just like the gun rag guys carry.
Lastly I had my "Covert Sniper" I.D. Card in my wallet with my "Concealed Weapons Permit Badge". I was reading for anything.
I drove my Bug Out Truck to the 7-11 for some beer, cause you never know. It is a performance styled Subaru BRAT with 4 cylinders of ground pounding fury.
I pull up to the 7-11 store and notice a nefarious looking girlscout eyeballing me from the back of her mother's SUV. A likely cover.
The mother returned to the truck and went for the keys in her purse, but I knew from my years of combat honed instincts that she was actually making a furtive movement for an offensive weapon.
I attempted a tactical shoulder roll, but fell flat on my face, kind of flopping on the pavement to avoid any incomming rounds and to make look like I meant to do that. The store owner called 911 which is good because I then did a roll and attempted to draw my Glock.
Unfortunantly, since I did not have a holster, the gun "went off" and the bullet creased my weaner. But I was prepared for that and bit down on a 9mm casing to take my mind off the pain as I dove for the garbage barrel. Thats when I noticed the girlscout shouting somthing to her mother who began to take cover. I knew they were closing on me so I drew my custom trusty 1911 Wilson COMBAT....I knew that they would be impressed with that. I then duckwalked to the front of her SUV but my gut kinda got in the way and I fell on my ass, which caused me to swallow my 9mm casing.
I then tried to roll to my right, but didn't want to scuff my holster so I just threw myself into telephone pole, but I landed on right side anyway. So I fired one shot towards the womans SUV to pin them down as I recovered my wind.
And before the mother knew what was happening, I charged her and I threw my groin into her knee. I knew that as I vomited on the ground in front of her that I had interupted her OODA loop, I had the advantage now. As she ran screaming for the girlscout (I knew she was going for backup) I made for my Super Charged BRAT tactical truck. I jumped into the driver seat forgeting that I had left my rare Israeli contract AR 15 Bayonet on the seat honed to a razors edge. I could handle it though, half my ass is an implant from war wounds. As I attempted to start my truck police and paramedics arrived on the scene. My truck would not start and instead backfired once and caused the police to tase me. At which point I tactically soiled myself while in convulsions. My custom 1911 then fell window but I still had my Centenial .38. I knew that I had to take out the woman with the purse.
So I aimed my revolver at her at which point the first police officer fired once striking me in the chest, fortunantly I was wearing my level 3A body armor. I didn't want to hurt the cops, they had obviously been duped by the evil temptress who was now embracing her partner in crime and crying to the police in the background, I knew it was a ruse.
I pulled out my concealed weapons permit badge and showed it to the officer who shot me and yelled out "I'm one of you guys", he continued to cover me and ordered me to drop my .38 so I layed it down, I still had my bayonet after all, attached to my ass. The cop walked toward me and upon reading the badge maced me right in the eyes. Fortunantly my Oakly shooting glasses stopped most of the spray and I was able to rip free of the taser cords easily, it only cost me one nipple, easily replaced. I dove for the passanger side of my truck and began to run zig zag for a ditch, unfortunantly the bayonet sticking out of my ass slowed me down, I knew it would have to be hand to had now. I knew the cop couldn't take me when I saw here merely carried a Glock 17, not a mans gun. So I immediatly threw my eye into his right hook, followed by a knee into his mag light. As I lay thrashing on the ground I took the heel of my Bates enforcer boot and kicked at the cops ankle, I knew that from my classified experiences in Tajikistan that once breaking the ankle, the cop would fall down and I could "stun kick" him in the head, knocking him out but now hurting him.
Apparantly the cop had also been to Tajikistan because he side steped me and struck me in the back with his ASP baton, but my trauma plate absorbed it. I then drew my Benchmade auto knife and was promptly tased again, but I was ready for it this time and only wet myself a little bit.
Next thing those cops knew I was unconcious. That'll teach 'em.
So There I was...(part DEUX) Mall Ninja Uber Tactical stories
So there I was, pinning on my mall security badge. I knew that at that moment, I had reached the pinnacle of my calling, to "protect and serve" or as my company motto says, to "evade and report". I had just received my official state security commission which allowed me to be armed, the ELITE of mall security. As I holstered my Gold Inlayed Stainless Glock 21 in .45 ACP, I knew that if it got hairy out there, I would be ready. I placed my Benchmade tactical automatic knife in my pocket where I knew it would ready at a moments notice.
As I walked my beat this afternoon I received a radio dispatch of possible loitering in the food court. I quickly stepped into the Men's room and press checked my .45 Glock 21 to make sure, "just in case".
I then responded to the scene of the crime, just in time to witness at least 3 fourteen year old male suspects. I placed my hand on my gun and returned the biggest ones menacing glare. As I approached the ringleader, I noticed a movement, out of the corner of my eye. My advanced security training immediately screamed "AMBUSH". My 2 hours of class room instruction kicked in like a well oiled machine.
I whipped my ASP baton out just as I began to spin and meet the threat but the clever teenagers had strategically placed a spilled coke, so I lost my footing and landed flat on my back. I was prepared for such an attack however, and even though my baton went flying 15 feet away and the wind was knocked out of me, my survival instinct, honed to a razor edge, kicked in. I quickly rolled to my right getting to my knees and dove for cover in the water fountain. I went for my mace, but the water on my Oakley sunglasses obscured my vision. I depressed the cap and shot a burst of mace directly at myself, I have been maced before so I knew how to handle it. I ran in a circle screaming so as to confuse the opposition and then threw myself prone into a middle aged woman?s lap in a booth. I knew at that moment that she would provide a body shield for any attacks that may occur. As I ordered her to stand in front of me, I reassured her of my abilities by showing her how a professional takes a knee to the groin.
As I writhe in pain on the ground, I would appear to the untrained eye to have lost control of my bladder. But in reality, this is a clever ruse to lure the predator to the trap. I stand up in a crouched position, and ran to retrieve my ASP. I could see the older woman running away from me bravely distracting the teenagers from my movements. I then picked my ASP up and whipped it into a semi-arc and with all the vengeance I could muster, I knocked my sunglasses right at the leading perp in a display of deft ability and superior training.
My right hand struck my right thigh causing the automatic knife to open in my pocket. The stabbing pain to my groin only heightened my awareness to the dangers I now faced.
Somehow, possibly a mastery of Thai Chi, the perp managed to cause me to strike the bridge my nose with the tip of my baton. I knew at that point I had met my match and conceded defeat by losing consciousness. Touché? to whomever you are.
So There I Was...(Part 3) Real world tactics used in corrections
So there I was working the night shift at the Moose Ass County Jail with just two other jailers, both ?female?. One of the inmates that night decided he needed to go to the bathroom at the end of the hall at 2AM. I knew that nobody went to the bathroom at 2AM and the fact that this inmate in particular was a 72 year old KNOWN traffic offender only heightened my awareness to his being ?System Savvy?.
So I go to the gear room and suit up in my riot gear because I know that having 2 female backup Officers only creates a liability. Once geared up, I stuffed one of our new tasers in the front of my pants in case things get out of control and I have to put him down hard. I grab my capture shield and baton and proceed to the cell.
I hold the baton under my left arm with the capture shield ?SHOCK? plate pointed away from my body so as not to inadvertently zap myself. I took the initiative to zip tie the trigger on the handle in case I have to get it into action quickly and don?t have time to get my arm through BOTH of the grips. Experience count?s here.
I carefully unlock the cell door and slide it to the side. As I tried to get the key out, this crafty codger had rigged the hole to hold the key in the lock. I bent down to remove the key and struck the top of my helmet against the bars which knocked me back flat onto my butt. So as not to be caught at a disadvantage, I immediately grabbed my baton and rolled to my left, unfortunately right on top of the capture plate, but I knew that I could use this to my advantage, so while I lay convulsing on top of the shield I began to plan my next move.
Once the battery had run dry I jumped to my feet and tried to swing the riot baton at my assailant. He deftly evaded my blow by standing right in front of me behind the bars. This caused me to shatter the baton, and lose feeling in my hands. I was prepared for such a maneuver and instantly went to my tear gas grenade. I pulled the pin and let loose with the spoon, flinging the grenade at the bars of his cell, the inmate then let the bars of the cell deflect the grenade right back at me and it fell down the front of my riot vest. Being the hardened professional that I am, my instincts kicked into level RED. I immediately ?stopped, dropped and rolled? to put the flames on my riot gear out.
I knew at this point, that I was dealing with no mere criminal but instead a master mind of tactical maneuvering.
The inmate feigned laughter as I screamed rolling on the ground while tear gas filled my suit and helmet causing snot and tears to flow freely. I knew however that he was about to make a fatal mistake. He ran from the effects of the gas yelling ?HELP? towards the front of the jail, but I knew that he was in reality attempting escape. It was go time.
I reached for the taser, but since my hands were numbed from the baton, and my vision was obscured from the result of the tear gas, I accidentally discharged the taser down the front of my pants. The urine left over from the capture shield incident conducted the electricity and grounded, causing me to let out a tactical shriek, which shattered windows for the entire cell block causing a hazardous situation to the escaping inmate due to broken glass. This had worked to my advantage.
I recovered from the initial shock and low crawled my way towards the inmate trying to ignore the effects of the ever pouring teargas and the electrical prongs that were now hooked into my privates. I could not allow myself to be defeated; I must not allow myself to be defeated. I had no feeling in my legs at this point.
As I crawled I tried to remember my training. I crawled over the glass into the cell the inmate had left. I snapped the key off in the lock and pulled the door shut behind me. I then removed the gas grenade from the front of my vest, ignoring the 3rd degree burns on my chest and hands, nothing a simple skin graft couldn?t fix.
I then used a sheet to cover myself under the bed in a tactical withdraw until backup could arrive.
So There I Was...(Part 4) Final Installment, a cop retires
So there I was, sitting in my carbon fiber 2 horsepower, Rascal with mag Spinner wheels. They told me I was washed up; give it up, your 90 years old for Christ Sake. But I knew better. The Moose Ass County Convalescent Center was my new beat. I had just finished my noon meal of mashed potatoes, creamed corn and apple sauce and was rarin? to go.
I gunned my Rascal towards my private room when a nefarious looking elderly woman on a walker blocked my path. Her teeth looked a little too real, her eyes a little too alert. I knew she wasn?t as she seemed. I moved to the left, she still blocked my way. I moved to the right, again, my efforts were again thwarted. My honed senses told me something was amiss, ambush!
I looked to my right and my left; all seemed normal, too normal. I immediately grabbed my ?tactical? set of titanium teeth and replaced the porcelain ones, ?just in case?. I knew my years of work with the Palooka Uniformed Strategic Services Integrated Enforcement Squad, at the Palooka Police Department would pay off yet again.
I threw my Rascal into hard reverse; it struck a potted plant that had been strategically placed alongside the wall to interfere with my escape, sending me head over heals backwards. I was ready for such an event and wore my leak proof Depends, the ?tactical black? ones advertised in Guns & Ammo. Certain that I had no up-flowing leakage; I sprang to my feet, easily within 2 minutes or less.
I made my way for the dining hall and armed myself with a plastic orthopedic spoon, but this baby had been honed by yours truly. This was a deadly weapon in disguise. An attacker, disguised as a nurse made her way towards me. I aimed the spoon carefully and threw it straight at her right eye. Contact! She was immediately down. I quickly ran for the emergency exit, damn them, still locked. The nurse was now upon me. I made for the T.V. Room but she grabbed my shirt. I was prepared for such a situation and my shirt ripped free due to the snap on buttons. I wriggled from the remnants of the garment and went for my chemical weapons, stored within the confines of my Depends. To the untrained eye, this would appear to be mere poo, but this was special poo, you see I had eaten and entire jar of cayenne peppers the night before. This was tactical poo. I flung the treated excrement at the nurse who was now screaming for backup. My years working with the P.U.S.S.I.E.S. had my mind clicking on all cylinders; I began to plan my next move.
The Orderlies charged in and grabbed each arm. I clamped down on the left one with my titanium teeth. He howled and charged off, my teeth never let go, but my gums did and they stayed attached to his arm. I was ready for this however and promptly threw my groin into the arm of a reclining chair, causing me to vomit on the other orderly. To the inexperienced this would have appeared to have been an accident, but this nurse knew better, she was on to me.
I ran for the door, the nurse dived, latching onto my pants, the elastic band gave way and I had to abandon them at the scene. The door to the front of the home was open; I made my break for it.
As I run down Main Street, passers by hooted and hollered at me thinking I was just a crazy old man in diapers, but what they didn?t see, was the coiled weapon beneath. I was quickly set upon by the same two orderlies. It was then I wish I had my B.A.L.L.S. or the Ballistic Armored Lightweight Logistical Shield I used to have when I was a cop. Just then, the Moose Ass Police showed up. I have had experiences with these kinds of so called ?cops? before.
The first one out of the car got poo flung straight into his eye. I knew what was coming next. His partner maced me, I was ready for this however and ran screaming into traffic clutching my face in agony. To the untrained eye, this would appear to be a random act, but I knew they wouldn?t follow here. I bent down and tightened the Velcro on my sneakers, I was ready for speed now. The cops were on me again, I was out of poo, so we went hand to hand. The cops promptly shot a taser at me; I blocked it with my right nipple. The effect of the taser had predictable results as I soiled myself again while twitching on the pavement. It was too much for my Depends and they quickly went aflame. The cops used fire extinguishers to put down my raging underwear, and I made my break. I successfully commandeered the patrol car while the cops were finishing of the flames in the street. The cool polyester against my bare flesh sent a tingle of excitement down my spine, unfortunately it also caused a little pee to come out, that?s okay though, I was in control.
I put the siren on wail and hit the car?s gas. Unfortunately it was in reverse and threw itself into a drainage ditch. I had to bail. I sprang from the car and made for the open grass but was tackled by the older cop. I went for his gun and he blocked my movement by slamming my head into the ground. I was ready for this however and lost consciousness.