Scanned (IQ x Male Reader)

Operation: Blood Beach

-3rd person POV-

"Sir!  We need to-"

"We can't, private!  We need the okay from the Brazilian Prime Minister!"  Y/N refocused his attention out of the AC-130's small slots, and at the massacre happening below.  He watched in horror as the Brazilian renegades slaughtered his friends, his family.  Those soldiers down there were the people he had trained with since boot camp, people he had come to adore, in a hotshot kind of way. 

Crying some, Y/N ripped off his helmet, throwing it to the ground.  He could no longer stand to listen to his old teams' cries and lives being robbed via the comms.  Sure, he could've shut them off, but wearing the helmet would just remind him of what was happening down there.  Plus, if the Prime Minister gave the okay to open fire on the renegades, Y/N wanted to be the first one on the guns, firing shell after shell until the only thing left of the renegades were piles of dust.

A few weeks ago, Y/N got transferred to the U.S. Spartan unit, a tactical unit dealing with terrorism and civil disputes that could lead to war.  His old squad, who have deemed themselves "Doom Patrol", were the people on the ground, getting ruthlessly killed.  Y/N watched as a Brazilian renegade took out his combat knife, and jab it into one of his old squadmate's gut, ripping it out and leaving him there to bleed out.  That's when Y/N couldn't bare to watch any further.  He turned away, and collapsed on the floor of the gunship.  He felt helpless.  His squad was being murdered, and the stupid Prime Minister wouldn't give the okay to-

"Y/N!  Y/N!  Private Y/N do you copy?!"  The pilot spoke, trying to get his attention.  Y/N heard the faint noise of the comm through his raised earpiece.  Lowering it, he wiped his tears and spoke.

"Yeah, I'm here.  Go ahead" 

"We got clearance.  Light 'em up!"  It took Y/N no time at all to hop on the heavy guns, firing three shells into the renegade forces within 15 seconds of the order being given.  Shell after shell, the battlegrounds became loaded with dust, restricting vision for everyone involved.  Soon after, Y/N switched to the minigun, spraying the renegade forces, mowing them down with no remorse.  He only stopped when he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder.

"Y/N-"

"What?"  Y/N spoke sternly, turning around and facing his lieutenant.  He sighed.  "Apologies for the attitude, sir"

"Save 'em.  You're not the only one pissed at the Brazilians.  Go get your armor on, we're sending you down there."

"Yes sir!"  Y/N saluted, and ran into the gunship's armory, where his set of armor sat.  His armor was based upon Emile's armor from Halo Reach, which was his favorite game from the franchise.  He got some smack for it, but he didn't care.  He quickly strapped the armor on, and grabbed his trusty Kryo Blades.  He had designed them while on a healing break from the Spartans, wanting something that can cut through most known materials.  He also designed them so he could toggle the blades' sharpness, for various reasons.

"L/N!  Hard insertion!  Drop in 60!"

"Copy that!"  Y/N sheathed his blades, and put on his helmet, and made his haw to the gunship's rear, where a technician stood at the control panel, waiting for the order to lower the ramp.  Y/N stood ready, and soon enough, a few seconds later, the technician held his earpiece and nodded, hitting the button, lowering the ramp.  Y/N could see the ground only a few hundred feet below them, and rising quickly.

"Distance?"  Y/N asked into his comms.

"Dropping from 100 feet"  his lieutenant responded.  "Take 'em out!"  Y/N chuckled at his order.

"I intend to do nothing less,"  he promised as the area filled with green light.  The technician gave him the "go" sign, and Y/N wasted no time jumping from the gunship, falling quickly through the air.  Assuming his position, he quickly pulled himself into a dive, falling for a few seconds before drawing his blades, holding them with a backhanded grip.  Just when he was about to hit the ground, he laid back at an angle, allowing him to slide slightly across the roof of one of the buildings, using his swords as air brakes, jabbing them into the roof, and setting the sharpness to their dullest setting.  Once stopped, Y/N jumped from the roof, right behind the mass of the renegade forces.  "Hello There"  he boasted to the troops, who quickly turned around, weapons trained on him.  Chuckling, he sheathed his swords, and put his hands up.  "Guys, guys"  he chuckled.  "Can't we settle this over a pint?"

"Hands up!  Drop all weapons!"  One of them ordered.  Y/N sighed.

"Guess not then.  Your funerals"  he shrugged, redrawing his blades.  Setting them to the sharpest setting, he slashed through the renegade forces, showing no mercy.  One of them tried to surrender, but he cut him down through his waist and neck.  Once it felt like they were diminished, he saw more jeeps pull up, unloading more troops.  "Here we go again"  Y/N sighed, running at the jeeps.  Before the renegades could get a shot off, Y/N slid under one of the jeeps, slipping in a C4 into the undercarriage, and sliding out the other side, detonating the explosive, blowing up the jeep, and the one next to it.  Y/N turned around, only to have a renegade fire off an RPG at him.  Quickly, Y/N jumped to the side, being blown back slightly, as the rocket hit a rock, blowing it into tiny pebbles.  Y/N coughed some, before standing back up, swords drawn, and facing the renegade with the launcher.  "You missed!"  he boasted.

"And I won't again"  the renegade smirked.  Y/N readied himself for the rocket, but before it was fired, the renegade aimed upward, firing it into the air.  Y/N smirked at this seemingly outlandish move.

"What a waste of a shot!  You know how much one of those rockets costs right?"  he chuckled.

"As I said"  the renegade replied, simply.  "I won't miss again".  Before Y/N could question what that meant, an explosion rang out in the air.  Y/N watched in horror as the Ac-130, now with only one wing and part of its fuselage missing, went right down into the Brazilian jungle, followed up by an immense explosion.  "Kaboom"  the renegade laughed.  Y/N's body shook with anger and fear.  That was it.  That was the last of the family he had in the army and the Spartans.  All ruthlessly killed off by the band that has been dominating Brazil for years.  Determined to finish his mission, Y/N felt the anger build up inside of him, and leapt onto the vehicle the renegade was on, and sliced his head clean off.  The driver and passenger both pulled their SMGs, but weren't quick enough to fire, as Y/N jabbed his blades, with backhand grip, through their skulls, one blade passing each head.  He quickly drew them out, threw the bodies out of the jeep, and drove off towards the renegade forces at full speed.

"Yippie kai yay, motherfuckers"  he growled as he proceeded to run over every renegade he saw, making sure to run over each one.  Back and forth he went, giving the jeep's tires and wheel wells a new maroon paint job, laughing like a maniac.  Once he knew they were all dead, he turned around, and began the 3 mile drive back to the base camp to report the news that he was the only survivor of Operation: Blood Beach.