Mister Juan
Sep 9 2007, 10:49 PM
[Byrne]
As the door slid open with a light ping, Vincent waved with his hand as if he was discarding something.
“Thank you very much Colonel, but there's no need for that.� said Vincent in a rather sad tone.
It wasn't a secret for anyone at Con Ops that Vincent's family life wasn't fairing too well. It happened way too often that the couch in his office was covered with a blanket and pillow for people not to know.
“I'll do my best to find out what is going on... Our friends from DIA are probably expert in counter-intel, so don't hold your breath.�
Stepping out of the elevator, the Special Agent turned around and held the door open with his hand.
“I'll use what little time we have to swift with you through all our current intel concerning the current state of the underworld. It won't be easy to prep everyone on all the movers and shakers... it would simply take too long... We'll need to summarize everything...� he finished with a sigh.
One week. That was all they'd get. One week wasn't nearly close enough for everyone to prep and study for their respective “roles�. If anyone questioned them intensively about the local criminal elements, they'd come up short.
“I'll try to use the rest of the time to draw up respective profiles, and study all the case files.�
With that he released the door.
“See you later Colonel.�
Cthulhudreams
Sep 10 2007, 05:18 AM
[Mosby] Lift Shaft @ 1350
Mosby catches the door before Vince can get out of sight.
"Vincent, try not to get to caught up in the underworld figures side of the equation. You'll be around to dispense advice and coaching on the job - and hell, we don't even know if our identities are from around here. I suspect they won't be. Gotta hit HQ and get that dossier ASAP.
What we need is the information on the mark. Thats the big priority. Need to know what he wants done so we can do some positioning as prime candidates in his market segment. So you need to tell me what he's buying so I can structure our sell side offering. I'll be with you after I've been to HQ and the armory."
With that Mosby hits the button for the lobby and beats feet for the mess, a shower, shave, and then back to HQ.
[Mosby] Team Ready Room.
Mosby slips into the room shortly after Nick, clad in his worn fatigues adorned only with his rank insignia and ranger tab, polished brown leather combat boots and holding his tan beret in his hand. When he catches site of Nick he flashes him a grin and rattles off in quick fire sucession "Bloody good to have you back on board. How was your junket across the pond? You've got a copy of the briefing and the Q&A session afterwards right?"
Mosby hooks a chair with one foot and slides it over to the table next to Nick, rifling through the pizza boxes for anything that looks both edible and hot.
Ol' Scratch
Sep 10 2007, 06:50 AM
[Rozhenko]
Reaching up with his mind, Nick grabs the three windows he had open and slide them out of view as Mosby speaks up. Nodding a bit a the breeder asks his questions, the ork replies. "Yeah, got the briefing but not the session. Thought that's why we were here. If was just a bunch of Q&A, you can just sum up the shit I need to know." And, with that, he takes a rather large bite out of his pizza. You could almost hear his heart clogging as he did so.
Cthulhudreams
Sep 10 2007, 09:12 AM
[Mosby]
Mosby grins manically back at the Ork, then starts to tick the points off on his fingers, waving a slice of pizza around erratically to lend emphasis to his remarks.
"Well, three key points are that..
A - the agency has been infiltrated by a mole, so for the two year deployment time we are out in the cold unless we call for extraction. If we call for extraction, it is all over. Only a tightly controlled list of people know we are out there.
B - They are holding Sinclair's family hostage while paying him a whole bunch of money, which is what I call an incentive.
C - Geller's view is we eliminate the target ASAP, the commander's view that we should at least ask some questions first. I want to see how the situation develops before I draw any conclusions on that front. I suspect we might just have to let the dice fly high on that one.
As you know we are shipping out in 7 days, and need to screw together gear packages to sustain us for two years earning our dishonest living. Ash is the armorer, you're the motor pool and drone support, the mages are prepping spirits, and I'm doing sensors and prepping some intel under Byrne's supervision. So spend some time with logistics when you get the chance."
Mosby pauses just long enough to wolf down a bite of pizza.
"After Q&A then the team worked through some issues to do with the lethal force authorization and the usage thereof. Two viewpoints, first that force will count for extra credit with the target, and second that lethal force is just killing a bunch of CAS citizens for no good reason. You can probably guess where we all sit on that one, but I really want to get to grips with the mission and profiles of target side of this operation before I get stuck into that mire."
Mosby takes another bite of the pizza.
Fortune
Sep 10 2007, 09:36 AM
[Ashley]
Although almost totally absorbed in a miasma of ammunition payloads and weapon calibrations, Ash can't help but overhear the conversation between Nick and John. Even after over two years together, the elf is still often surprised at how Mosby is capable of laying out a problem in a manner stripped of bias, despite his personal feelings on the subject. He nods slightly, more to himself than anything, slightly reassured that if nothing else, John was capable of seeing things from all sides.
Ol' Scratch
Sep 10 2007, 10:15 AM
[Rozhenko]
Nick simply grunts as he nods in understanding. "A week should be plenty of time to get this preliminary list I've put together in order. Got any word on our IDs yet?"
Cthulhudreams
Sep 10 2007, 10:47 AM
[Mosby]
Mosby gulps down a mouthful of pizza, "Nah, not yet, Commander said she'd give us the heads up as soon as they were through, and there has been not a peep from that quarter.
The other thing on your 'to do' list beyond getting to grips with logistics and your new identity is memorizing as much of the Intel as you can, because we're not going to be able to carry any of that into the field beyond whatever capability we've got between our ears."
Mosby leans over the table and swipes a one of the beers, cracking it open with a mutter of 'yeah, yeah, duty, duty.' and taking a long swill.
TheOneRonin
Sep 10 2007, 08:16 PM
1752 Hours, Bravo Team Ready Room
Your commlinks beep with an incoming message. It seems your mission identities are are complete and ready for review.
TheOneRonin
Sep 11 2007, 03:52 PM
0417 hours, Wednesday, June 10th, 2071
The soft beeping of your personal commlink rouses you from a deep sleep. You had finally settled down for some rest after a furious night of preparations, planning and study with the rest of your team.
Bleary-eyed, you check the display screen.
Incoming Text Message-
SENDER: Aunt Connie
MESSAGE: Grab your kids and pack your bags, we're going to VEGAS!
Ol' Scratch
Sep 11 2007, 07:35 PM
[Rozhenko]
Time/Date: 1753 Hours, June 9th 2071
Bringing up the recent text message featuring his new identity, Nick blanches. "Oh joy, I get to be the registered sex offender again. I swear, if I ever find out who makes these..."
Mister Juan
Sep 11 2007, 09:03 PM
[Byrne]
0417 hours, Wednesday, June 10th, 2071
A faint buzzing in the back of Vincent's head pulled him out of his light sleep. As gently as he could, he simply slid to the side, his bare feet dropping to the soft carpet of his bedroom. Sighing internally, he massaged the back of his neck as he held his head low, reading the message behind his closed eyelids.
Apparently, things were moving much faster than expected.
Behind him, he heard the rustling of the covers. Helen was awake, he could feel her stare on his turned back.
“I have to go.� he simply said, pushing himself off the mattress.
A few years ago, Helen would have gotten worked up over him leaving in the middle of the night. She would have asked where he was going, or when he was coming back. She would have cared. Now, it was a different story. Vincent's wife simply didn't care for the man who pretended to be her husband.
“Try not to wake the kids up� she told him in a half groggy voice, turning around and going back to sleep.
Vincent dressed himself up, not bothering to turn the lights on, headed downstairs, took the keys to his car and was off into the night.
It wasn't quite clear what the message was about, but he knew the place quite well. If for some reason they were pushing off ahead and moving out tonight... then the kids would have to do without him for some time.
Galedeep
Sep 11 2007, 10:23 PM
0417 hours, Wednesday, June 10th, 2071
"Damn you, Bergelmir!" Ivan spat, his arms crooked and his hands splayed as he tried to control the energies surrounding the troublesome Storm Giant he was attempting to summon from Thrudheim. The giant, bent down with his arms splayed wide, cackled, spitting electricity and gusts of wind before bursting into a gale force, leaving Ivan in a blast of painful wind as his CommLink went off, distracting him and making him lose control of the spirit.
Wiping a bit of spit from his mouth, Ivan quickly checked over the message. It certainly seemed odd that they would be meeting so soon, unless the commander wished to add certain instructions away from the prying eyes of Geller, but there were easier ways to do that. It would just have to wait and see. Hopefully, they wouldn't be heading off already; he only had Sangrith bound at the moment, and he had hoped to add to his cadre of spirits before embarking on the mission. It would be easier to do in familiar, safe environs than without.
Grunting in irritation, he decided to summon one of Bargelmirs cousins, the less troublesome, but equally irksome Aslimir, another Storm Giant Ivan had dealt with before.
"Might un maine en Midgard, skomm Aslimir sigla stadhr commentha!" Feeling the pulsing energies build in his arms, sending jolts of energy down to his hands, he curled his fingers, shaping the portal that the being would step through. In a few moments, the giant lumbered through the invisible opening, accompanied by a gust of frigid air. Its long, blueish black hair hung down over his hideous face, and his misshapen limbs were almost comically distorted, his huge head hung down between his gangly legs, his arms cocked back as far as they would go to fit in the small room.
"What do you require of me, mortal?" Aslimirs whispy voice drifted to Ivans ear. The elf smiled, pleased that this giant was more subservient than his difficult to manage cousin.
"You are to accompany me to my vehicle, and use the wind to speed my journey to a different location. During this trip, you are to watch the spirit world, and alert me of any traffic within a few miles. You have standing orders to protect me should I be in danger, either physically or astrally. Do you understand your instructions, drole?"
The giant shifted his head once to indicate an understanding, then drifted from sight. Ivan gathered his things, and went downstairs to his bike, making sure his gun was in its holster before setting his helmet on his head, and starting up his motorcycle.
"Let the winds accept you in your travels," came the ghostlike voice of the giant, and as Ivan eased his vehicle out into the streets, he could feel the very air around him open up. It made a path for him, and pushed him along behind; it wasn't quite the same as speeding up, it was merely covering more distance for the speed. It was a difficult concept to grasp, but one that many magicians made use of.
(OOC: Summoned a Force 7 Air spirit, using his movement power to speed my travel. Out of six services, four have been used; to use his movement power, to watch on the astral and alert me of any activity within two miles, and protect me should I come to harm, and to watch on the physical and protect me. )
Ol' Scratch
Sep 11 2007, 11:28 PM
[Rozhenko]
Time/Date: 0420 hours; June 10th, 2071
It took Nick a good 60 seconds of fumbling around with his hand to realize that the sound he was hearing was neither a telephone nor an alarm clock, but instead his augmented reality answering machine alerting him to a priority message. It took him another 60 seconds to wake up enough to remember how to make it stop whining at him so he could get back to sleep. Modern technology. Bah!
Relinquishing to its electronic will, Nick rolls onto his back and sighs deeply. "Join special ops and you, too, can never get a good night's sleep again!" But no, they never tell you that during the recruitment drive, do they? Double bah!
It took Nick another good 60 seconds before he finally decided to roll out of bed and get ready. By the time he got out of the shower and shaved, he was starting to get on the clock. Once he shoved the SoyPopTart in his mouth and was locking his door, the adrenalin had finally kicked in, his engine was revving, and he was raring to go. God bless the miracles of SoyPopTarts — the cornerstone of any successful black ops mission!
Cthulhudreams
Sep 12 2007, 12:21 AM
[Mosby] Time/Date: 0417 hours; June 10th, 2071
John is in the midst of a bad dream when the commlink starts to beep aggressively. He leaps to his feet, grabbing for his gas mask and filling his lungs to shout, then pausing to stare bleary eyed across the room at the wall of his unfamiliar Colonel's quarters on base, his fingers having closed on the trashcan next to his bed, rather than the gas mask canister he was expecting.
After a brief moment of contemplation on exactly how much he hates been woken up unexpectedly at o'dark thirty, John picks up the casually discarded commlink next to the bed, sliding it into his datajack and checking the mail.
"You've got to be... pull the other one, its got bells on. What the hell do these clowns think this is. This operation already felt underdone."
Mosby hastily showers, shaves, pulls on one of his few pairs of civvie street clothes, then grabs his go bag from under his bed and jogs over to the base motor pool in 5 minutes flat, signing out a car from the electronic attendant and making for Vegas - stopping at an all night drive through on the way to grab something hot and greasy, and a dim memory makes him search for a particular song, before streaming it to the car's stereo
"It's my baby callin', says I need you here, It's half past four and I'm shifting gear"
Fortune
Sep 12 2007, 12:28 AM
[Ashley]
The horrendous crash of the toolbox impacting against the wall echoed throughout the armory, accompanied by the musical clatter of metal tools scattering across the concrete floor, and punctuated by an impressively colorful string of curses.
The black-haired elf once again reads the short text message, clenches his jaw shut, and just barely resists the urge to hurl the offending commlink straight after the mangled toolbox.
Ashley's face is streaked with gun oil and sweat, his black tank top soaked through and clinging tightly to his torso. The muggy night was still quite warm despite the hour, and promised to give rise to yet another uncharacteristically hot June day. The work bench in front of him is littered with Glocks, a few fully assembled, but most still in various stages of completion.
Muttering under his breath, Ashley gives his hands and face a cursory once over with an already greasy rag, then after grabbing the prepared pistols and rummaging around the bench for a box of ammunition, he heads toward the armory door and the Hummer parked just outside.
ZenZen
Sep 12 2007, 04:55 AM
[O'Kerrigan]
Time/Date: 0417 hours, June 10th, 2071 (Wednesday)
The obnoxious beep of the commlink is met with utter disregard.
A mere 4 hours had passed since Sam stopped reviewing everyones' new identities with their respective owners, memorizing facts, inventing and synchronizing all the little pieces of trivia and 'shared memories' that made a new ID come alive, enabling it to hold up both to rigourus scrutinity and casual smalltalk.
Now she was soundly asleep and a mere alarm clock had no chance at changing that fact while she was in the safe embrace of her own bed, the well-known signals arriving in her ear being filtered out way before reaching her dreaming self.
But her comm was prepared.
After 3 minutes without any significant reaction to the priority message it initiated its Urgency Protocol and contacted the apartments' other subsystems, kicking them into action.
As the high-powered luminous wallpaper filled the room with a bright approximation to 'the first sunlight of the day shining through windows', Samantha finally reacted, blinking into the illusory sunrise, her tiredness betraying the idea of morning.
Sitting up, she reaches over to the commlink, her eyes displaying the coded order as soon as her skinlink initiated contact, muting the alarm at the same time.
"Aunt Connie, eh?", yawning extensively while checking the time twice, just to make sure it really was as night as her body indicated, she continued to mutter, a smirk on her face: "As usual, the perfect time for a happy family vacation with our steely aunt. Couldn't have waited until we actually had some sleep, now, could ya?"
Finding her way into the kitchen, Sam takes a big gulp from the readied double-caffeine SoyKaf (all part of the UP), providing her with the acuity and quickness needed to hurry through her morning routine and pack her essentials before leaving for the motor pool.
Munching a BreakFAST™ while speeding down the sparsely populated highway towards their personal 'Vegas', the VirtualWeather trying hard to keep up the illusion of daybreak, Samantha muses:
Can't ged rid of the feeling that prep time is over before it actually started...and I still wanted to bind a couple of astral assistants with Ivan - apart from actually going on a long-time, deep undercover mission prepared for a change.
Chances are, this is just the beginning of a series of unpleasant surprises.
"Ah well, it could be worse Samantha", she tells herself, "you could have a boring job..."
Fortune
Sep 13 2007, 11:28 AM
[Ashley]
Activating the vehicle's internal pilot, Ashley turns his attention to the stack of pistols and empty clips piled up beside him on the passenger seat. Cracking open the box of 9mm ammunition, he falls into the long-mechanical task of loading the clips, the familiar routine serving to ease his fiery mood as he makes his way toward 'Vegas'.
TheOneRonin
Sep 13 2007, 11:59 AM
0500 hours, Wednesday, June 10th, 2071
The rusted and dilapidated hulks of old factories and manufacturing structures litter the landscape as you drive through Roswell. The Grand Marquis Casino on the northern-most side of town is is a sorry state of disrepair...only an inkling of it's former glory visible under the years of dirt, grime, and soot caking its exterior. In reality, what you see is a clever facade for a Consular Operations deployment center. This building is used to consolidate and deploy ConsOps assets as stealthily and quietly as possible. And this morning, it's going to serve its purpose once again.
As you and your teammates pull your vehicles into the parking garage, you notice a handful of aged and weathered vehicles along with a few "u-haul type" moving trailers parked near the Casino entrance. Those must be your mission transportation.
Once you make your way inside, you spot Cmdr. Haney sitting at an old blackjack table, several steaming cups of StarYen soykaf crowded into a carrier before her. The sour expression on her face shows that she is about as happy as you are to be here. She motions to the soykaf, and to the barstools clustered around the blackjack table.
Fortune
Sep 13 2007, 03:33 PM
[Ashley]
After pulling in to the Casino parking lot, the elf spares a moment to stuff all but one of the now-ready pistols into a small canvas bag hauled from the rear of the Hummer. Ashley jams the remaining Glock into the waistband of his fatigues at the small of his back before pulling on a matching urban camo blouse, leaving it hanging loose and unbuttoned.
Khaki bag in hand, Ash grits his teeth as he briefly surveys the assembled vehicles, before breathing a deep sigh and heading for the meeting.
Ol' Scratch
Sep 13 2007, 05:00 PM
[Rozhenko]
Nick yawns as he pulls in just behind Ashley. Normally he'd be upset for not being the first on the scene, but at this hour he couldn't give a rat's ass. Before the door slams shut after he exits, his Porsche Winter is pulling itself back out and heading to his garage back home. "See you in a couple years, baby," he wistfully sighs to himself, patting the old girl just before she drives off.
After watching her go, a slight jog brings him up next to the old gun nut. No words were said. An ork just felt better when he was in the company of friends and family.
Galedeep
Sep 13 2007, 06:58 PM
[Ivan Beckett]
Thanks to his spirit improved rate of travel, Ivan has been sitting at the table for several minutes, sipping a hot cup of coffee. There are several more sitting around, extras that he'd picked up, forgetting that the Commander would most likely have them there.
He looks a bit out of it, and he is; his spirit is flashing around in Astral space, watching for intruders, but Ivan is doing the same. No harm in being cautious. His face goes momentarily slack when he extends his astral form a bit farther away, but he always darts back, sitting up with a jolt as his consciousness returns to his body.
Cthulhudreams
Sep 13 2007, 11:23 PM
[Mosby]
Mosby turns down the stereo with a mental order as the car glides towards the casino, wary as an unidentified set of headlights pulls out of the casino and heads towards him, but he soon recognizes the driverless Porche. As he pulls up next to the big humvee he orders the car to remain parked for 30 minutes before driving back to the motorpool, then posts an AR sign asking the motorpool attendant to take his bag and stuff it in his locker in the gym, as he pulls it out.
John then reaches out electronically for the others as he walks in, reassured as his comm link establishes as tactical network with familiar commcodes. John grins broadly as he surveys the 'cheerful' faces of his compatriots, tossing his jacket across the back of his chair, which reveals a faded grey Tennessee Titans shirt and some equally tired cargo pants.
Looks like the usual 5am bundle of joy. Guess you have to laugh or cry
Mosby says to the commander "I'm hoping this isn't the jump off, but your expression doesn't reassure me at all Commander." as he grabs a cup of coffee and a stool.
ZenZen
Sep 14 2007, 06:39 AM
[O'Kerrigan]
Time/Date: way too early, June 10th, 2071 (Wednesday)
Driving past the barren ruins of Roswell's industry, The Grand Marquis Casino barely in sight, Samantha notices a familiar figure zipping around.
Seems like Ivan had an escort today... Let's see, this pattern..must be ..yes of course, Aslimir!
A smile spreading on her face, she waves at the storm giant, unveiling her dual nature:
"Hi there, big fella! How are things over in Thrudheim?"
As Ivan appears shortly afterwards, she blows him an astral kiss, her masking hiding any signs of tiredness and worry about the unexpexted emergency meeting in her aura, instead making it read the usual cheerful serenity that her physical body shows.
Upon entering the casino compound, Sam takes over control from the AutoNav and speeds her open convertible into the garage, hitting the brakes late for a more or less controlled drift into the parking space, sliding a bit too far, coming to a screeching halt mere inches from Mosby's car.
A barely noticeable "Chi.." leaving the corner of her mouth, she jumps out, the hardtop reconstructing itself on her mental command and the chameleon paint taking on a simple black colour.
Making her way to the stairs, Samantha takes notice of their 'new' cars, another undeniably clear sign of their mission starting right now, way too early:
Ugh, those better be properly tricked out on the inside despite their looks, else Nick will be seriously pissed...
Once inside, Sam finds 'Aunt Connie' and most of her crew assembled around a blackjack table, their expressions showing a wide palette of emotions ranging from sour to icy, tinted with a hue of tiredness.
She beams: "Good morning guys," with something between a cheerful nod and a salute to Haney: "Commander."
"Had I known about the raving party in here I would've brought some snacks."
Her playful smile still in stark contrast to the serious expressions around her, she turns to Rozhenko while grabbing one of the SoyKafs:
"Jeez, Nick, did you see our new rides? Will we ever get undercover identities with style?"
Fortune
Sep 14 2007, 06:49 AM
[Ashley]
Ash runs his hand though his black hair.
"Shee-it! Ah ain't even had a chance t' give mah ID more than a quick once ovah yet."
TheOneRonin
Sep 14 2007, 05:19 PM
Cmdr. Haney drains the last bit of soykaf in her cup and stands up from the blackjack table, pacing as speaks.
"As you've probably guessed, we are getting an early start on this op. Yesterday afternoon, Phillip Bourgeois contacted Sinclair and requested is assistance with gathering a team for a job. The only details Sinclair was able to give us are that the job is an extraction, the mark is or will be in Baton Rouge, and the job has to go down Thursday evening. Bourgeois wants to meet the team and pitch the mission himself, which is why we have to get your shit together and have you down in Louisiana tonight. Flying you is too risky, and a team with your gear would probably be traveling by road anyway. Bourgeois is looking to meet you at 6PM in a commercial parking lot of the 7500 block of Jefferson Highway in central Baton Rouge. It's about an 8 hour drive from here, and you'll change time zones once you get out of Atlanta. I figured this would give you a few hours to go over your gear and make any last minute preparations you may need before getting on the road."
"I did the best I could with the preliminary gear lists you all put together, and it's all loaded up in the trailers and vehicles parked outside. It's not all you've asked for, but it's pretty close."
"Look, I know what you all are thinking...this mission is fucked...7 days prep time cut down to barely 12 hours. But this is an opportunity we just cannot pass up. HQ figured it would take 3-6 months of working for Sinclair before you could get tapped to work for Bourgeois. This puts us ahead of the game. That means we get to bring you guys home that much sooner."
Cmdr. Haney looks away from you for just a moment, the brings her gaze back to the rest of the team.
"Before I go, are there any last minute questions I can field? This is the last official contact you all are gonna have with me for a while. Best make the most of it."
Galedeep
Sep 14 2007, 06:14 PM
[Ivan Beckett/Dean Keaton]
"Well...shit." Ivan stretches his arms, stands up and downs his coffee in one go. Popping his neck, he shrugged.
"We've all been in worse situations. Hell, this is a bonus; shouldn't screw with the mission too bad. I wish I'd gotten to bring in some reinforcements, but the one little lady I've got, and whoever I can call up on the spur of the moment, should do us fine until I get a little downtime. You have any friends with you, Sam?" he asked, not bothering to try and sense the links in the other magicians aura.
"Besides," he added with a grin on his face, "I love this part. It's like Christmas, but more dangerous...well, depending on whether Uncle Pete got you anything." Still occasionally blinking and checking the astral skies, Ivan walks back and forth.
"Oh, and we can probably cut that travel time down, if you fellas want to just study up here, in the comfort of an abandoned building. I can get us there pretty quick; Aslimir can speed us up pretty good."
"Ya'll keep on talking, I'm going to check out the gear we got to play with," he drawled, his southern accent taking on an Alabama twang. As he walks out to the vehicles, he thinks about the new complications that are going to come up with the lack of preparation time.
Hell, I hardly know the basics of my ident yet...shouldn't have spent the morning wrestling with Bergelmir instead of sleeping. Oh well...I can sleep in the van. Now...ooh, what have we here? Opening up the trailer on one of the vans, Ivan grins widely. It has racks of armaments, racks of clothing in various styles...even a few shelves of customized commlinks. No doubt the heavier stuff is in one of the other transport units. Stepping up into the trailer, he begins digging through the clothing, whistling happily to himself, looking for a new outfit to wear in his new persona.
Fortune
Sep 14 2007, 08:29 PM
[Ashley]
The elf stares in amazement as Ivan goes on about how this is a good thing, but that is nothing compared to the look that crosses his face when the mage actually walks out right in the middle of the Commander's last official briefing without even a 'by your leave'.
Cthulhudreams
Sep 15 2007, 05:16 AM
[Mosby]
John leans foward, arms on the table during the commanders briefing, committing the details in a sketchy shorthand to his comm link and memory, then nods through Ivan's overoptimism. When Ivan slips off his stool and walks off, John stares at Ivan's back as he walks off in first in slack jawed disbelief, his gaze coming to focus in a laser like glare.
"Beckett!" he bawls in his best parade ground window rattler "Get your stupid ass back over here right this second soldier!"
He then turns back to the commander as though that never happened, saying in an entirely more reasonable tone "All our intel on these guys is back at base - we went over some of it last night, but is there any chance of getting a copy of some of the less sensitive dossiers off you right smart, or do we just run this as an adhocracy from here on out?
I also don't want to turn up at the meet with a motorcade. Maybe a van and two bikes... is one of the teams hidey holes on the way, or should I just improve and find some parking?
Oh and before we start cleaning ourselves off -we all have new clothes in the transport.. right?"
After asking his questions, he reaches down to his bag and pulls out a roll of garbage bags, ripping one off for each team member and slipping it too them - sending everyone a text message via the commlinks.
"You guys know the drill - everything you've got on now, even your underroos, comes up off and goes in the bag. I don't care where you got it or if you burnt out the RFID tags. Take it off, and stick it in the bag. Change of clothes in the transports."
He then sends a second message to Ash "Hey, Ashley, mind if we throw all this gear in your hummer? I the rush I forgot to arrange for transport - I'll fall back to the commander if having my socks in your car for 12 months just isn't cool!"
Galedeep
Sep 15 2007, 09:38 AM
[Ivan Beckett/Dean Keaton]
"Yessir!" Ivan snaps a sharp salute and heads back to his seat. Thinking for a second about how that had just looked, he almost smacked himself; talk about presumptuous. Still, he does love fiddling with the new gear.
"Sorry, Commander," he added as he took a seat, grabbing one of the bags from Mosby as he does so. Pulling off his jewelry, he counts his rings and earrings, setting three items to the side and dropping the rest into the bag.
Fortune
Sep 15 2007, 09:06 PM
[Ashley]
The elf ignores the garbage bag he receives from Mosby for the moment, and mentally fires off a responding text.
"Makes me no nevermind, but being that it ain't really my jeep, I can't be held responsible for its contents."
Ol' Scratch
Sep 15 2007, 10:12 PM
[Rozhenko]
It takes a moment or two for Nick to realize that he can simply set his cup of soycaf down while he changes. Up until that point he was sort of hopping on one foot while trying to kick his boot off without spilling the drink. He's just grateful no one seemed to notice; or at least if they did, they had the decency not to mention it.
As he continues to strip down, he pipes up with a concern. "I was watching a few of those old shadowrunner flicks last night when something dawned on me. Everyone seemed to a nickname they used to hide their real identities, even those who didn't have a SIN or were using fake ones. Seems to me that we should probably think of one for each of us as we head down South if we want to earn any kind of credibility with these assholes. Because, like, I really doubt anyone's going to be all, 'Hi, I'm Alex Conklin the serial rapist and I'll be your driver for the evening' if you catch my drift."
By the time he was finished, Nikolai was as bare-assed as the day he was born and looking around for his new outfit.
Fortune
Sep 15 2007, 10:26 PM
[Ashley]
The elf watches in amusement as some of the others start to strip down right there and then. He casts a quick inquiring glance in the Commander's direction, a small, wry smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"If'n Ah got yer permission, Ah'll go 'n fetch us all some of them there duds y'all got packed away in the truck."
ZenZen
Sep 16 2007, 02:32 AM
[O'Kerrigan]
Samantha was coughing hard as the tie between trying to swallow the last gulp of her lukewarm SoyKaf and bursting into laughter resulted in her nearly choking on it.
Finally managing to force it down the right part of her throat and getting some breath back while still chuckling hard, she addresses the stark naked ork, a broad grin on her face:
"Ya know, Nick, if you repeat that Chippenelf routine in front of them, I don't think your credibility as a registered sex offender will be questioned...like, at all.
Or did you even plan to drive like this, 'becoming one with the machine' and stuff?"
Suddenly turning towards the rest of the team, Sam instantly regains her composure and proceeds with a straight-faced proclamation, radiating the authority befitting her rank:
"Chief Warrant Officer Nick Rohzenko's dedication to his new identity is admirable.
We should all laud his efforts and strive to follow the prominent example his devotion sets for us!
...though maybe not right here, right now." she adds, an impish smile creeping back on her face.
Ol' Scratch
Sep 16 2007, 03:18 AM
[Rozhenko]
Nick catches Sam's comment just as he bends over to pick up his boots. His reponse? A tantalizing wiggling of his arse. When he finally finishes and sets the entirity of his clothes on the table, he flashes a toothy grin and a wink. "Just following orders."
Cthulhudreams
Sep 16 2007, 04:32 AM
[Mosby]
John grins back at Ash and says "As Nick's bare arse is the stuff of nightmares I'd be appreciative if you got him something yeah. Or just a towel. Ick."
John then stuffs his jacket in his bag then drops it at his feet for the moment.
Ol' Scratch
Sep 16 2007, 04:55 AM
[Rozhenko]
Nick blanches. "You know, I am standing right here."
Cthulhudreams
Sep 16 2007, 05:06 AM
[Mosby]
John starts to laugh at Nick's hurt remark "Well, I could say that you are actually a very taut and lean hunk of ork flesh with fine washboard abs, and shapely arse, but you are the sex offender! It's not public indecency if they enjoy the spectacle." grinning back at Nick with a sly wink.
Fortune
Sep 16 2007, 11:14 AM
[Ashley]
In quick order the elf returns with a double armful of assorted clothing, dumping it in the middle of the blackjack table. Rummaging through, he picks out a pair of jeans and a bright yellow t-shirt, and then steps away so that others can get theirs while he changes.
"Y'all are just gonna have t'git yer own socks 'n shoes when yer ready."
Ol' Scratch
Sep 16 2007, 06:23 PM
[Rozhenko]
Rummaging through selection, Nick pulls out a pair of blackened jeans and a fire-engine red t-shirt featuring Stalin, Lenin, and Rasputin celebrating someone's birthday while throwing confetti around. The caption "Communist Party" is stenciled underneath, complete with a backwards R. Once permission is granted, he runs off to grab a pair of comfortable hiking boots and some socks as well. So help him if the quartermaster only supplied the team with Hello Kitty socks in ork-size again.
While he was pulling on the shirt, the grizzled old pilot caught a glimpse of his Airborne tattoo on his arm. "Shit," he proclaims as he finishes sliding it on, "almost forgot about the tats." At that, a small command window appears in his line of vision and he prompty reprograms a few of the hard nanites in his system to go fix that oversight lickity-split.
Mister Juan
Sep 18 2007, 02:41 AM
[Byrne]
Through most of the rather short briefing, Vincent had been quietly seated, silently running everything he knew in his mind. From the get go, he had disliked the fact he was to work up profiles with little information and a very tight time frame.
Now, he had barely scratched the surface, and they were getting shipped out.
Tonight.
With the intel blackout now in order, he'd have to work solely from memory and raw instinct. That made him rather uncomfortable. He had been tasked with a job, and now, he couldn't do it.
As his teammates around him started to joke around, probably venting out their anxiety before they hit the road, Vincent started to undo his tie first, then the cuffs of his shirt.
“If I may; I do have a question for you Commander.�
He threw his tie in the garbage bag.
“How are we supposed to I.D. El Sinsonte? I've started working on a profile, but it isn't finished yet, so this little hitch in the plan has me rather worried.�
He threw his jacket in the bag, followed by his right shoe, then his left.
“We have no idea what our target looks like, or how we are supposed to confirm his identity. How can we take out a person, without any sort of way to confirm that it really is him?�
TheOneRonin
Sep 20 2007, 03:17 PM
| QUOTE (Mosby) |
| "All our intel on these guys is back at base - we went over some of it last night, but is there any chance of getting a copy of some of the less sensitive dossiers off you right smart, or do we just run this as an adhocracy from here on out? |
Cmdr. Haney leans forward and lowers her voice a bit before speaking.
"This is completely off the record, but I'm working on a clandestine way to put some of that intel out for you all to access. When it is in place, I'll find a way to let you know where it is and how to access it. But it won't be immediately available."
| QUOTE (Mosby) |
| I also don't want to turn up at the meet with a motorcade. Maybe a van and two bikes... is one of the teams hidey holes on the way, or should I just improve and find some parking? |
"Your commlinks are preloaded with Sinclair's contact info, so you'll be able to tap him for whatever intel you may need. From what I know, Bourgeois is expecting a 6-person team to show up at the meet, so I don't think the motorcade thing will be a problem. However, if you want to be extra careful, there are several other shopping centers around that general area that should be busy enough to provide a good hiding place for your vehicles. "
"I know all of you have some serious misgivings about this mission, and part of that blame lays in my lap. ConsOps has such a cutting edge intel gathering and asset acquisition process that none of you are used to going in with little intel and no prep time. Remember that extraction you pulled off in Cuba? Full-sim reconstruction of the whole hacienda, RFID tagged guard uniforms so you knew where all of them were the whole time, Sec mage fast asleep because Charlie team put tranqs in his cigars...and two full weeks of rehearsals? Yeah, you bastards are spoiled.
"For all of you, it wasn't always like that. I know...I've memorized all of your service records. You've all been in worse situations than this."
"John, remember that op back in '58 in the Yucatan? The one where you had to link up with that splinter rebel faction to assist you in taking out that Azzie supply depot? Yeah...I've read the file...you searched for them for 3 weeks...the whole time they were shadowing you...you didn't know where they were, how to contact them, or if they would even be willing to work with you. Still, you pulled it off."
"And Vincent...remember that serial killer along the gulf coast you went after...no pattern no particular MO, no real support from the Bureau...they wanted to brush it under the rug. You went solo, found the killer, and brought him in. You did that with less intel and support than you have now."
"Nick...Azerbaijan, '56. Yeah...I know it was complete off the books...didn't happen. But it did, didn't it. I won't go any further, but you know what I'm talking about."
"Ashley...this isn't your first rodeo...El Paso, 6 years ago? No spotter, a month in the weeds just waiting for HQ to confirm your target, then you get the go and he isn't there? 3 weeks later you find him and it takes you days to set up the shot. I think you lost about 25 lbs on that op, and the medics said you were seriously malnourished when you got back. But you pulled it off."
"Ivan...I know you remember this one...terrorists are holding hostages on a rig in the gulf, and will start killing workers if their political demands aren't met. Which rig? No one had a fucking clue. You had 24 hours to find them before they started killing hostages. I think it was you personally that figured out they were not on a rig, but on a ship, right? And if I recall, there were no hostage casualties after the op was over."
"Samantha...remember when you and your 7th ODA were dispatched to pull those Rangers out of the shit they got themselves into in Port-Au-Prince? An entire Ranger Company scattered into small elements across 30 square kilometers and pinned down by rebellious Haitian Army units? They all should have died on that island. But they didn't, did they? 72 hours of continuous rescue and medic ops...mobile CCPs, air-dropped supplies, and all but 7 Rangers made it out, thanks to you and your 12-man ODA. I think the tally was 3000+ rounds of ammo, 27 grenades, 58 medkits, and 6 pairs of boots expended by you alone."
"You see, all of you have been in tougher spots, and pulled through. That is why you have been tapped for this mission. That is why I chose you over Alpha, Charlie, and Delta. And that is why you WILL be successful in your mission. Understood?"
TheOneRonin
Sep 20 2007, 03:24 PM
| QUOTE (Byrne) |
“If I may; I do have a question for you Commander.�
He threw his tie in the garbage bag.
“How are we supposed to I.D. El Sinsonte? I've started working on a profile, but it isn't finished yet, so this little hitch in the plan has me rather worried.�
He threw his jacket in the bag, followed by his right shoe, then his left.
“We have no idea what our target looks like, or how we are supposed to confirm his identity. How can we take out a person, without any sort of way to confirm that it really is him?� |
Cmdr. Haney cocked her head to the side and regarded Special Agent Byrne.
"Unfortunately, we don't know what he looks like either. Or if "he" is, in fact, a "he". That's where you all come in. You will be getting closer to him than any of our other operatives have been able to in the past. It isn't going to be easy...and I'm sure he will try to dupe you at least once with one of his people. You'll have to manage to gather the rest of your intel while on the ground. We've given you everything we have, which I know isn't much at all. But I trust you all will be able to accomplish this mission in spite of our intel shortcomings."
Galedeep
Sep 20 2007, 06:45 PM
[Ivan Beckett/Dean Keaton]
"In earnest, Commander, I think we'll do alright. Rehearsal might have made it easier, but like I said, and like you so succinctly summed up, we've been in tighter spots. I'm not worried about the lack of prep time, just the lack of intel, and gathering intel is something of a specialty of mine. I know some don't approve of my methods," he adds, tossing a glance towards Samantha with a shrug and an apologetic smile, "but no one can deny their effective. Work from the bottom up, and before too long, you've got a better picture of what the organization looks like."
Tossing his celtic robes and heavy belt into the bag, he pulls up a pair of tight gray pants, grabbing one of the more outlandish shirts from the bunch. "And hell, it might take time to get the intel, but you've more than set us up for the job," he said appreciatively, tucking in the swashbuckleresque shirt and sliding into a tight, long coat, double buttoned in the antiquated confederate (the first ones) style. Pulling on a pair of beige cavalry gloves, making sure to slip on his ring first, he slides his earring back into his ear and grins, picking up the thickest belt he can find among the assortments and snapping it into place, low on his hips.
Sliding his own tall boots on and situating himself, he runs his fingers through his hair and laughs. "Hell, I'm gonna need me a hat," he said, his voice dripping Alabama twang.
Standing, and leaning on the table, he grins. "I know some of you think I'm overoptimistic to the point of stupidity sometimes, but I think we oughta just relax and trust our skills and training. We'll have plenty of drek to clench up over later, so lets just do our jobs, rehearse in the van, and go step by step. I do know that when we get there, we need to see about accomodations; Sam and I are going to need to set up lodges, so we can perform the more interesting styles of spellcasting and conjuring, but that'll take some time."
Flipping his hair back, and braiding it tightly as he speaks, he looks around. "Think we can get a decent history together by the time we do the meet? Above and beyond the basics of our own identities...jobs we've pulled, and the like? I'm sure some of you have some unsolved cases you've looked into, not too high-profile, but substantial stuff. Ya'll wanna work anything like that into the team identity?"
[ Spoiler ]
If any of you have seen 3:10 to Yuma, Dean is going to be a whole lot like Charlie Prince. Except less gay.
Mister Juan
Sep 20 2007, 08:17 PM
[Byrne]
Grabbing a few almost random articles of clothing, Vincent dressed himself back up. His mind was already racing in his head, putting together what little facts he knew about their target. Hopefully, they would get enough down time for him to have something solid up. It probably would never be as precise as he'd like, but it would be enough to get some sort of rough picture of who El Sinsonte might be.
Slipping into a bland gray t shirt, over weathered dark blue jeans, Vincent ran his hand in his short hair a few times, trying to rough them up a bit.
“Commander� the special agent started, speaking but not looking at her “I'm afraid I'll need you to call Helen for me... Just tell her I won't be coming home.�
There was no sadness or apprehension in Vincent's voice. It sounded so simple and to the point, as if the whole affair was but a minor nuisance.
Grabbing a black and red checkered shirt, Vincent looked toward Mosby.
“I believe we should get on the road, Colonel.�
Cthulhudreams
Sep 21 2007, 12:43 AM
[Mosby]
John jokingly responds "I just like to make the process of stiffing me on intel and prep as painful as possible so it doesn't happen next time!" switching to a more serious tone "But I understand commander. We'll hit the road." He holds up his garbage bag "But you'll need to take these back and stick them back in our quarters. I don't want to throw them into the cars, might tip the hat to someone. I'll look forward to hearing from you. Might personally arrange for a 'trix dead drop with Nick if you want to smuggle the Intel across."
With that he turns back to the team and nods his head towards the vans and bikes "Time to scout out the goodies I suggest. While I almost hate the idea, can I suggest you all tag a van or bike as," he reaches into the air "a 'personal transport' for private use. I'm guessing we'll need it.
I agree with Ivan about coming up with some shit about stuff we've done before, we want to look like pros infront of this guy. Nicknames too if you want to do that.
I'd like to toss one more idea out there, might be a good idea to buddy up with someone else, then you can cover each others ass when the team isn't together, shack up, whatever. Not sure if it might be better to split up more though?"
With that he peels off his t-shirt, disconnecting his commlink from the datajack at the base of his spine and throwing it in the bag, sighing as the AR overlays disappear, leaving his ring on and pawing though the pile, saying mostly to himself "And now for the fun bit, I'm a construction security supervisor, its the south so it is kinda hot and humid, but I want to conceal a gun and possibly some other sensors and gear."
Eventually he compromises on a worn set of jeans, a tight white t-shirt and a red and white checked flannelet shirt which he leaves unbuttoned. Then he clips the cheap Chinese TCL commlink onto his belt, perching a set of sunglasses on his head which he then syncs to the phone, sticking the subvocal mic for voice control onto his throat, and slipping in a single earbud, twisting the tiny cables together, making sure the breakaway works and sliding them down his shirt and connecting them to the comm.
TheOneRonin
Sep 24 2007, 04:06 PM
Cmdr. Haney agrees to tie up the last couple of loose ends, and bids you all good luck and godspeed on the mission before she walks out of the old casino building.
Fortune
Sep 25 2007, 01:40 AM
[Ashley]
Now dressed, Ash tucks his pistols into the waistband of his jeans, then lets his loose-fitting, now sleeveless t-shirt drop to cover it.
Fetching his bag, he spills its contents of Glock pistols and spare clips over the blackjack table before catching the other's attention.
"Obviously Ah ain't had no chance t' check the rest o' the gear, but Ah put these here shooters together mahself, so's Ah know they's good t' go."
Cthulhudreams
Sep 25 2007, 02:45 AM
[Mosby]
Mosby nods to Ashley, picking out one of the Glocks, checks the action, loads one of the magazines, chambers a round, then carefully puts the gun back down. He then slides an in belt concealed carry holster onto his right hip, jamming the glock into the holster, then carefully adjusting the position of the grip so it will be masked by the cheap commlink before pulling his t-shirt down over both, using a mirror behind the bar to make sure the gun isn't printing.
"Well, you heard the lady, lets grab our kit bags and hit the road. Ash, Ivan, if you can try and get to the meet, say 20 minutes in advance, and give it a quick astral and physical once over. Don't want any prying third parties, though I think thats probably low risk."
As he speaks he takes one of Nick's hacker grade prepared commlink and clips it into the datajack at the base of his spine, giving a little shudder as he does so.
"Nick, if you can have an eye in the sky, or just run an electronic sweep staged out of their comms, that would be peachy.
We've got all day to come up with a solid set of nicknames, cover stories, previous jobs and find an apartment or three, or six. Depending on how much you think you can stand the sight of each other." he gives a big grin with this, pleased to be on the go "I reckon we ditch the two big bastards" he nods towards the bigger vans "with trailers in a nearby carpark, just because I think turning up with trailers is weird. Thoughts? Oh, and if get some mojo from the mages, we can probably get there real early, and do some house hunting or the like."
While chewing the fat with the team he heads over to the vehicles, quickly checking the contents of each, looking for the armoury, saying "Oh, and I call dibs on the Toyota, I don't drive American!" as he grabs a skinlinked PP2000 from one of the assorted anonymous duffel bags, checks the action, grabs a pair of magazines, slams one home, checks the silencer and the syncs the smartgun with his cybereyes via the commlink in his spine.
He gives a grunt of satisfaction, then clips in the spare as the butt, doing a few movements to get a feel for the gun before unplugging the spare and putting them in the Toyota's glovebox, burying it under the spare tissue box, stuffer shack wrappers and other odds and sods.
"Guess I'm ready when you guys are."
Fortune
Sep 25 2007, 05:12 AM
[Ashley]
The dark haired elf nods to Mosby, then casts his eyes towards Ivan, a sly grin curling the corner of his lips.
"I'm bettin' that you'll be wantin' t' take a bike, right?" Despite the question, Ashley continues on without actually waiting for a response. "I'll be takin' the other one then."
Ash winks at the mage, his grin widening and his eyes twinkling with excitement, the way they always do at the prospect of beginning a new assignment. He nods towards the trailers containing their gear.
"Jus' chuck whatever y'all be needin' for the meet into the car. The stuff ya can't carry on the bike, that is."
ZenZen
Sep 25 2007, 08:27 PM
[O'Kerrigan]
Samantha sits at the table, sipping her SoyKaf while Cmdr. Haney starts to recall one of the fun moments for each Bravo Team member in their respective careers in order to expose how pampered they've been since joining ConsOps.
Azerbaijan '56 - complete off the books, hm? Guess I'll have to squeeze this story out of Nick sometime...
Nodding as the Port-Au-Prince rescue gig is mentioned, the revitalized memories of this exciting mission lighting up her eyes, she mutters a "...the part about the boots is vastly exaggerated, y'know...", more to herself than anyone else.
...and we didn't make it in time for 7 of them, regardless... a stream of thoughts surfaces, before she wills it back into the emotional graveyard of her subconscious, discarding it as futile reminiscence.
Snapping back as the Commander finishes the motivational part of her speech, she answers the rhetorical question with a sharp "Yessirr!", sporting a confident smile as she gives a short salute, using the hand not occupied with holding a coffee cup.
Cmdr. Haney finishes with restating the impressive amount of intel they got on "El Sinsonte": nil, nothing, zero.
Yeah, our target could in fact be everyone, hell, could be a shadow, a straw man invented by the real powers in charge, for all we know - talk about a clear mission objective there...
...well, time to find out who's better at hide-and-seek, I'd say...
...or chess...or whatever it is that mockingbirds play...
Just a her mind starts getting sidetracked, Ivan takes over talking, soon addressing Sam indirectly:
| QUOTE (Beckett) |
| I'm not worried about the lack of prep time, just the lack of intel, and gathering intel is something of a specialty of mine. I know some don't approve of my methods," he adds, tossing a glance towards Samantha with a shrug and an apologetic smile, "but no one can deny their effective. |
Effective? Sure, I'll give you that. But you still need to work on your overenthusiasm with mindraping others, it's bad manners... she thinks, the sarcasm briefly flickering across her face.
Having finished her SoyKaf, Samantha now busies herself digging through the heap of clothes that Ash dumped on the table, looking for something her size while everyone tries to come up with 'the all-important question', knowing that this unexpectedly premature briefing, ending with the departure of Cmdr. Haney, is the last chance before their contact with HQ will be ultimately severed .
As she concludes her excavation by unearthing a t-shirt finally meeting her criteria, the time has come:
with the Commander taking her leave, the mission starts.
"You'll excuse me for a second, guys." Sam announces, as she heads for one of the vans, disappearing inside, the new clothes tucked under one arm.
2 minutes later she jumps out again, wearing combat boots, slightly faded black jeans and a tight-fitting, grayish white 'Dunkie forever' shirt, prominently showing the late Great Presidragon in chibified form.