Fort Myth, Southern Tir

0300 Uniform [PST]

The car was non descript, the kind a family might buy if they were low on cash. It’s brown color easily fit in with the surrounding countryside. Rolling hills and pine trees obscured the view of the large military complex set on the Oregon Coast. Before the Tir was founded it was an abandoned Coast Guard station called Port Orford. Now it spanned 30 square kilometers. It had every thing it needed form training grounds, to ship builders. It was the largest naval base in the Tir.

None of this was reflected in the eye of the driver though as he cruised past the main gates. The sentry’s paid him no head as he did not turn on the road the led to the main gate, instead he drove another kilometer down, pass the little town the inevitably sprang up around every military base.

Another kilometer up and he parked his car at a lookout called Wolf Point. He left his car running and walked lightly to the back. The trunk sprung open and he removed his delicate equipment.

Thoughts of what he would do if someone else decided three a.m. was the time to view the military base. The silenced Glock sat in it’s holster at his back. Two quick shots would make work of any nosey civilians.

It only took him a few minutes to set up the laser receiver, he was thirty seconds ahead of schedule. The clock in his eye started to flash and he turned on the receiver. It was a dangerous game they were playing. Even a tightly focused laser could conceivably be picked up by a security drone or other anomaly.

It worked, the computer gave a soft beep as it was finished recording the data. He quickly disassembled his gear and stowed it. None to early as he caught the headlights of a car making the trek up the mountain. Now worries now, he thought. He rested comfortably in the car as he reviewed the data.

November Mike. Charlie Foxtrot. Bravo Alpha, Charlie Indigo. Zulu, Zulu, Zulu. Papa Alpha.

The message ended. He had twenty four hours to respond or the agent would proceed as normal. Calfree had worked hard to place an agent in the top ranks of the Tir, so they did not risk him lightly, but if what he was saying was true. Then they may have to.

In or around Ft. Myth, Tir

2100 hours, Uniform[PST]


Demitri and Vathiel [Ecclesiastes and Whizbang]

The party at the Base Commanders house was in full swing. There were trhee generals, two governors, a handful of brass and of course you two. It was the usual affair a bunch of old men and women talking about strategies of this and that.

The two of you cut a swathe trhough the crowd. For infiltraters and stealth experts you couldn’t go two meters without someone trying to strike up a conversation with you. Men swooned over Vathiel, attempting eagerly to get her to give them even a moment of her time. Equally they tended to give Demitri sour looks, at least when he wasn’t looking.

There were few women at the party, most were there with their husbands to show support. Demitri often caught them looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The usual bit.

You two were there at the base Commander’s behest. Invited to show the flag. As one of the more successful Ghost teams in the past year you were being invited to more and more of these functions. Not that anyone but a handful of people knew what made you successful, they were just told you were. They didn’t ask why.

A rather Hansome waiter accidently bumped into Vathiel, her green translucent gown shimmered as she turned.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he backed away. You were about to respond when your comlink interrupted you. A message came in on the emergency frequency. A quick look to Demitri told you he was receiving a similar message.

Romeo Tango Bravo, high alert, One hotel.

The only time you ever got these messages was when the team was going on a mission, you have one hour to return to base. Oh, well, the party wasn’t that great anyways.

Ft. Myth, Tir -SpecOps training facility

2100 hours, Uniform[PST]

Eidolon, Kincaid, Fingers, and Fraiser [Tanka, McQuillan, Johnson, and Buddha]

For the one thousand time Fraiser flipped Fingers over his shoulder with practiced ease. A sharp ‘kia!’ echoed in the gym as she hit the matt, absorbing as much of the impact as she could with her arm instead of her body.

“Dammit,” she muttered. Kincaid stifled a chuckle at the wiry womans failure.

“How many times you going to let him do that, Fingers?”
“As many as it takes for me to not let him do it, Kincaid. Ok, again.”

Fraiser shrugged, he was more than willing to throw the smaller woman around all night if need be. It was good training for the both of them.

A loud beeping noise from Eidolon’s belt interrupted them, another followed form Kincaids, a third from Fingers, and finally Fraisers went off.

“Crap, it looks like we got a gig.” The four of them had been through this drill a hundred times. They immediately headed for the shower, knowing they only had an hour to get to the briefing room.

Ft. Myth, Tir - SpecOps Motor Pool, bay five.

2100 hours, Uniform[PST]

Sylph and Linx [Sphynx and Silverspur]

“So basically what you are saying is that time only exists as an idea of man?” The only part sticking out under the chassis of the Panzer was Linx’s legs. A hand shot out and pointed across the room, “could you hand me that wrench?”

Essentially that is correct, time is an idea, like dimensions, one man attempts to control, but never will.

The answer blossomed into Linxs mind via Sylphs usual form of communications, telepathy. A useful if not creepy talent.

Seemingly of it’s own volition the wrench floated across the room and dropped in Linx’s hand.

Whatever response he was about to say got cut off in the beeping of pagers. The only time these specific pagers ever went off was when there was a mission.

Time to fly my friend.

”One can only hope so,” Linx answered aloud.

Well Linx, you've got to clean up, and I've got to hit the barracks for a change, I'll catch you at the briefing, K?

Sylph checks under the panzer to make sure his friend pulls out ok, before heading out. Before hitting the barracks though, he stops off at the Magic Circle to pick up his personal gear. He heads over to his locker, and reaches in to grab a wristband made of leather, which has 5 silver colored trinkets hanging from it. He quickly wraps it around his right wrist, inside-out, so that the trinkets are trapped between the leather and his flesh. After that he reaches in again, and pulls out a strange balm that is stored in a long tube, which he slips into a pocket on his thigh. Then he reaches into the locker and pulls out a staff that's 2 meters in height. Pulling it apart at the center, the staff reveals that it's actually a Nagamaki sheathed. The katana shaped blade protrudes from a handle that's just over a meter in length. He lovingly holds it sideways, so the hilt lies flat on his hand, balancing it perfectly with blade on one side, handle on the other. After a short kata, he slips the cover back on, once again creating a staff from the weapon, and closes the locker. He turns and walks away from the locker, his first step causing him to begin fading into the background. His second step and all that you can really see is his face and staff, another step and he has completely disappeared into nothingness. The door opens, then closes, and all is quiet in the room.

The light on his barracks locker lights up and turns green as the door opens. A hand print on the palm-scan being the only sign as to what caused the door to open. Clothing begins falling to the ground from nowhere as Sylph undresses. He slides on a black under garment that covers his entire body in a very form fitting manner, Next he reaches unseen into the locker and pulls out a very interesting contraption. A computer/pocket secretary that appears to have been home-altered to include a GPS. It's been ingeniously rigged to strap onto someone's arm, and that's exactly what Sylph does. Strapping it to his inner left forearm, he plugs it into a datajack located about 8 cm from his inner elbow, through a hole in his form fitting outfit. Verifying that all systems are go, he reaches next into his locker and grabs a pair of forearm guards that he lashes in a protective manner on his forearms, to protect the computer and leather wrist band. He then grabs a knife that he slips under his left forearm guard, and a small flashlight that he slips into his thigh pocket with his balm. Afterwards he reaches in and takes a holster for a pistol and drapes it over his left shoulder. Lastly, he slips on his fatigues, making sure that the collars are perfectly pressed, and that the creases in his pants are starch-perfect. He checks that the sleeves cover his forearm and wrist attachments, and buttons them over so they can't slide up. Closing his locker, he then grabs a utility belt that he wraps around his jacket, making sure to tuck the jacket bilatterally in the back to avoid wrinkles. He then slips the flash light, and balm into a small pouch attached to the belt. Finally he grabs the cap off his bed and slides it under his arm. When he steps outside, he deftly slips it onto his head and heads to the supply depot to pick up his sidearm.

Arriving at the Supply Depot, he steps out from a shadow, startling the on duty seargent. After a few laughs with the Sgt, he signs off for his weapon, and takes 2 additional magazines of ammo which he slips into another pouch on his belt. Carefully he pushes his thigh pocket back, to return it to am unused starched like appearance. He then picks up his Ares Predator, checks the Silencer and Laser Sight before sliding it into his holster under his jacket. Picking his staff back up, he turns around, and 4 steps later has disappeared again into nothingness.

He pulls into the Briefing area, and silently makes his way to the briefing room, avoiding any confrontation on the way. Stepping out of the shadows again, only when it is time for the retinal and palm scan. As the door opens, Sylph walks in, and takes his place at the debriefing table.

Eidolon took off running after her shower. She made it quite quickly, though a few of the people who didn't know her thought she was a bit too fast and a bit too smooth. She didn't care. This was more important than their audulous stares.

Dropping into the barracks with time to spare, she began dressing into her fatigues and weaponry quickly. She slung the holster on, then the jacket. She slid in her personalized Predator III after doing a quick double-check of all its components.

She grabbed her duffel bag and started throwing things in there hurredly. Her kits, her flashlights, all her listening and jamming equipment, extra clips, the three extra Predator IIIs, the extra HVAR, and lots of ammo.

She grabbed her personalized HVAR and slung it over her shoulder, then over her head so that it crossed from her right shoulder to her left hip. The Barret would stay until she found out if she needed it or not. Hopefully not, it was big and she hated lugging the thing around. Not to mention that it was damn expensive to buy more ammo for it.

She quickly went over a mental checklist. After noting all that she needed, she calmly walked out and started for the briefing area.

Along the way, she was, again, double-checking her Predator III. Safety, check. Full clip and one in the gullet, check. Laser sight aligned with the barrel, check. Smartlink responsive, check. Good to go!

She arrived with time to spare, doing the retinal and palm as per usual. She walked in to find Sylph already there.

"Oi, Sylph. Faster than me, that's a first."

Eidolon sat down at her usual spot, in the far corner from the door.

Glancing to watch Eido hit the door while everyone else was just starting to move, he shakes his head.

"Well, time to earn our keep."

Outside, he falls into an easy jog that would've pushed most people past their limits. That's what comes from running too far, way too early in the morning. Kincaid makes a quick stop at the lab, submitting to the retinal scan, and turns down a few burners and puts his last two projects on hold. We certainly don't want those going without supervision...

As he hits the barracks, he can already hear his companions showering and suiting up. The bulkier elf hits the shower and is dry by the time he gets back to his bunk. Loading up, he raises the partitions in his bag so that the components won't spill together. Enough demo gear to flatten a handful of skyscrapers, customized multi-weapon system because you never knew what you were going to need, and his pistol all went into the bag.

His black form-fit slid on like a glove, clearly demosntrating all the curves in his shoulders and upper-body. Getting a little tight in the torso, may need to go see Gunny about a new one but that can wait. The outer layers of armor came on just as easily. Hanging his tags around the post on his bed, Kincaid looked at his picture of Merry, kissed it and started moving.

Kincaid passes through the same building he'd been in thousands of times, nodding to the guards and moving past the security sensors with purpose. He grabs an apple off the table as he walks in to the briefing room.

"Eido don't you think you could've at least given us a sporting chance by waiting until we were outside to start running?"

His easy-going smile showed his relaxed demeanor was always there, not just when he was working with bombs.

"Sylph, did you at least make it here before her?"

Fraiser bows once more to Fingers before turning and jogging behind Kincaid. He breathes a little easier when he sees Kincaid swing by the lab. I swear, one day he is going to level this entire base.

Entering the barracks, he hits the showers. Quickly cleaning off the light sweat, his frame lighter and slimmer than most of the other men in the unit. As he moves out of the showers he cringes at the sight of the large tattoo left arm. A green dragon winded around his arm. Once again the vow rings through his head. I will never drink that much again.

He reaches his area and begins to suit up. The body armor slides on like a glove, he shudders a little at its touch. People might die, it's necessary. He reaches into the neck of the armor, pulling out a necklace. It's a series a links with amber set in them. Each one bears a different Gaelic word. One link is larger than the rest bearing the word sun.

He presses it to his lips. I will carry the light within me.

He presses it to his forhead. I will take the light into the world and banish the darkness.

The peace settles around him as he replaces the necklace. He continues to gear up. Sliding the security armor on and begins to arm himself. A series of knives are quickly secreted around his person. I'll hold off on the grenades for now. He quickly checks over his hand gun, making sure everything was in order. He dug out his pack and began to check it over more throughly. The medkit was ready to go, the patches were there, and his field kit was perfect. He thumbed open a slim metal case, inside rested rows of vials. Each toxin clearly labeled. Satisified he closes and reseals the pack.

He jogs out of the barracks and heads straight for the briefing area. He nods at the guards he passes. Upon entering he nods to the others in the rooms and grabs a chair. He pushes aside his worries, he belongs here.

Eido smirked at Kincaid.

"Give you a chance? No way! And, uh, yeah. Sylph beat me. He must've been right here anyway. He probably divined it or something.

"Just kidding. 'Sides, I had to load up a lot."

She points to the duffel bag. Her personalized HVAR is apparent, leaning up against the table.

Sylph smiles, tilting his head slightly to the right and raising his eyebrows while looking downward. It seems he's amused by the conversation, but as usual, his mute self is as quiet as ever. Someone's coming... is heard in the back of your head.

The distraction provided by the incoming message was all that spared the waiter from Vathiel's scathing tongue. True, he might be hansome, but she had plenty of hansome men falling over themselves to get a moment of her time. Many of those men also had the money and power to keep her in the lifestyle that she had become accustomed to.

However, she still owed her current position to the Tir Government. Without them, she'd just be a nobody guttersnipe. Now it was time to do her part in paying them back. Turning to Demitri, she said "Guess it's time for us to get going, and let people get the attentions of their escorts back..."

She singled out there host, and giving him a dazzling smile, she said "Thank you for the invitation, but it seems something has come up. Perhaps we can do this again sometime..." Social nicities out of the way, she made her way back to her quarters.

As she got back to her room, Vathiel divested herself of her gown and her jewlery, and hopped into the shower to wash the hairspray out of her hair. She sighed. All that time spent at the beauty shop to get her hair up in the artful concoction, just to be washed away. But more likely than not, this wasn't going to be a party.

Stepping out of the shower, she quickly toweled off, blewdry her hair, and secured it up in a bun. Not as attractive, but much more practical. She then emerged to slip into her form fitting armor and camo, strapping her Browning Ultra-Power on under her jacket. Looking at the clock, she was grateful that she always kept her gear together, ready to leave at a moment's notice. After a light layer of makup, she cased up her deck, grabbed it and her dufflebag, and hurried out the door.

Despite, or perhaps because of her rush, Vathiel was surprised to find out when she got to the briefing room that she was still early. She had even managed to beat Demitri. Not the rest of the group, however. "How's it going?" she asked as she took a seat.

Fingers returns her bow to Fraiser walks to the edge of the mat and bows again.

Fingers takes a run to the door.

Reaching the barricks, she thumbs the pad. The door opens with a swish. As the door closes behind her. She heads for the showers.

After dumping the old dirty clothes, she pull out her field gear. The gear seems to tell a tail of many tours. Well faded and unironed. Just making sure there are no shinny bits and other noticeable birght colours she dresses. Checking her boots are tied correctly and that her ID tag and blood group tag is laced in properly. After doing her final checks that all her Field ID tags are in place.

Out comes the custom gear. doing a quick check that the Ops gear is all there. She mounts up her gear. Doing last checks that all cyber gear is working.

She head for the briefing location.

Slipping out from under the Panzar, Linx starts walking over to the barreks to get his gear together. On the way, he switches on his communications cyberware and makes a phonecall to the the support crew that ready his eqipment for him in emergancies such as this.

"Hey Marty, we've had the phonecall. Can you ready the Airstar for covert ops please and load up the cannons on both that and the GMC... I need both fully fueled and the drones ready to roll. Oh, and by the way, im half way through modifying your Panzar. Ive overhauled her engine but just need to work on the armor and camo paint."

This was a well worn procedure... There was no way that one rigger could get all the eqipment set up in time, so the support crew did it for him while Linx was in the briefing.They didnt mind doing this as not only was it their job to help him but unlike alot of the other (more arrogent) riggers, Linx thanked them for their work and helped them out himself during down-time.

Heading into his quarters he had a quick shower to get rid of the excess grease all over him...Opening his locker he put on the form fitting body armer and his fatigues, as he picked up the Preditor and put it in its holster, he couldnt see what was so appealing about this large lump of metal that his friends found attractive!

Once dressed he picks up his Backpack and heads over to the ready room.... he has no need to check whats in there as its been checked a hundred times over before now. All the communications eqipment they are going to need is there, as well as the remote control deck and one of his mini drones! he knew the satalite was in good working order and that the uplink was good because it had been tested that morning.

Smiling as he walks into the ready room he looks around...."Last one again then I see!! nice to see some habbits go unbroken!" and with that he puts the backpack down carefully and joins in the usual banter as they wait for their superior to arrive!

Demitri nodded cooly to Vathiel. Instantly his BattleTac came online and routed the quickest way out of the party for him. Hey, these things are good for more than just Battle, you know. A radio signal goes out to Base to have an escort pick himself and Vathiel up from the party and give them a ride home. He lets his eyes catch the Commander's on the way out and enclines his head in respect.

Demitri doesn't even bother with a shower, he always smells good anyway. A quick stop at his room and he is changed into his normal uniform and just minutes later finds him seated in the front row at the briefing room.

The team spends a few minutes chatting with each other in hushed tones. The entire team was spread out over the first two rows of the stadium style seating. After Demitri entered and seated himself the chatter quieted even further.

The tale tale sound of boots on concrete echoed outside and then stopped. A few seconds of inaudible chatter came through the door, then more silence.

The door opened and in walked two people. Colonel Taggert led the way in. The tall, powerfully built elf was imposing as usual. His urban colored BDU’s were perfectly pressed and worn. They fit his frame like they were cut specifically for him.

The woman who followed him in wore similar BDU’s, and was sturdily built, if rather plain looking. She entered the room and took a seat to the far left. The Colonel seemed to ignore her for the moment.

He waived his hand as everyone stood to attention, “at-ease.” He waited till everyone had taken a seat again.

“Alright soldiers were in a real bind this time. This mission is probably the most important you will ever undertake, so listen up.”

The older elf turned to the screen on the wall. The lights dimmed in response and a satellite image appeared on screen.

”This image was taken 24 hours ago,” the image displayed is of a Navy vessel with some sort of crane on the side. The screen blinks and the ship is now much closer. The screen blinks again, and the flag of the Japanese Imperial Navy is obvious above the deck.

Another blink, this time it focuses on the crane. There seems to be something coming out of the water in the cradle of the crane’s mechanical arms.

Another, the object is oblong with a coned head, there seems to be some sort of image on the side.

Blink. The image takes up the whole screen. It is a circle with three black triangles, points meeting in the middle, in between each space of triangle is a yellow patch. The international symbol for radiation and nuclear weapons.

Taggert let the image soak in a minute before continuing.

“At approximately 1300 hours two days ago the JIN UnRep ship “Morning Star” recovered this, what Intel believes is a Broken Arrow. A lost nuclear weapon. Well it isn’t lost anymore.”

The image blinks again, the same ship is at the heart of the picture, except now it is in San Francisco harbor.

“The Japs turned it over to CalFree yesterday morning. It is now in this military base,” the slide changes again, a sat photo of The Presidio, the Army base that rests against San Fran Bay.

“HumInt suggests CalFree is trying to make it operable again to use in an offensive against the Redlands DMZ. We are not sure how long it will take to get this Fatman back up and running, but with the best scientist they have, and a good sample of weapons grade material they could conceivably manufacture several smaller ones. Intel suggests that this weapon is in the 50-75 megaton range.”

He pauses for a moment letting it all sink in.

“Now the new ‘president’ of CalFree took office two months ago and he is a hardliner. Hs campaign promised an end to the Tir conflict, and this looks like how he is planning on delivering on that promise. A nuke detonated on our borders would leave us wide open to invasion. With a combined force of California regulars and JIA infantry they could hurt us very badly.”

He looks at each and every one of you before continuing. “Before I get to the mission specifics are there any questions?”

The lights come back up, the image of the ship in the harbor remains behind him.

His hearing recorder and opticam comes online. A small red dot appears in his vision letting him know the recorders are functioning. Later on he'll edit out the image of Taggart, just in case the video falls into the wrong hands.

Demitri raises his hand and says, "Sir. Are we going to be retreaving or destroying the device?"

In his head, he thinks, Please say destroy. I don't even want to deal with carrying something like that around.

A nuclear weapon...they weren't kidding when they were saying this thing was big. "Would indeed be a challenge to move something that size from a secure compound...where did they get that thing from, anyways?"

Sylph remains quiet, nothing to say. He concentrates on the images of Monterey, analyzing the distance from the DLIFLC to the probable location. He begins going over, in his head, the terrain of the area having visited there a few years back. He can almost hear the seals in the background again.

Fraiser listens and pushes aside the fear and the tension. "Do we have any idea if the missile is still intact? Do we need to worry about radiation leakage Sir?"

Eidolon remained silent. Her job was to follow orders. Besides, all her questions were being asked.

Frag. A big boy. Well, when the drek hits the fan, it really blows...

Retrieve...destroy...this bomb may be a little bigger than that. The possibilities of success and repercussions of failure when playing with a nuclear weapon weigh heavily across Rhys' face.

"Sir, is it possible to get some schematics and some of the academic reports on a device this size. I'd like to know a little more info on the lady that I will probably have to dance with."

The Colonel nodded, “let me answer these in the order there asked."

“The weapon appears to be a hold over from the last days of the old USA. According to the images are bird got it looks like it is fully intact, and our teams were un able to detect any radiation leaks. As for the schematics, that brings me to our guest.”

He turns and nods to the woman.

“This is Lieutenant Darlene Madigan, PhD. She is with the Army’s Nuclear Weapons program. Intel has determined that disarming the bomb in the field without adequate Intel would be to risky. So the L-T here will be going with you.”

“Any other questions before we get to the specifics?”

Demitri openly looks the PhD over, sizing her up, but lets his questions wait till after he has the details. He isn't happy about having a piggyback on the mission, but he also understands the need for it.

The woman rises as the team turns towards her, her gaze drifting around the room to take in the whole group before coming to rest on the Captain.

Her hand moves to salute before she brings it under control. She nods and smiles nervously. "I...I'll do my best not to get in your way, Sir."

Her BDUs look to be freshly-issued, as does the webbing and combat boots that adorn her stocky frame, which tops out at just slightly under 6 feet. Shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail to reveal features that could almost be described as ugly by elven standards, a fact not aided by her strange, washed-out, aqua-hued eyes. Two slim matte-black plugs fit snugly against her right temple, concealing all but the tiniest glint of chrome from the data- and chip-jacks implanted there. From the plugs, thin black data-cords run behind her ear and then down inside the collar of her fatigue blouse.

Darlene turns her attention to the Colonel. "Am I to understand that the objective of this mission is to disarm or otherwise disable this device? Um...well if I have permission to speak freely, why couldn't we just detonate it where it is? We might even make it look as if it happened as a result of their own apparently-bumbled efforts. I mean, the fallout, both literally and public-relations-wise, should not land on the Tir if done properly."

She pauses, hesitantly glancing around at the team before returning her attention once again to the Colonel.

"I...I know it's not my place Colonel, but...but this sort of opportunity comes up once in a lifetime, if that, and it seems to be a shame to waste it."

Demitri blinks, not really sure he likes the sound of that, but willing to at least listen. "How do we know this thing even works? I thought most nukes don't even function anymore."

Lt. Darlene Madigan uneasily shifts her gaze back and forth between the Colonel and the very intimidating leader of the Ghost team.

"I...I meant, of course, if the device worked, or at least was able to be restored to working order, Sir. If not, I'm sure the option of either recovery or destruction would still be there. It's probably not p...possible to confirm that one way or another prior to the mission itself though."

She surreptitiously clenches her fists at her sides as she waits for the Colonel's response to her outrageous suggestion.

Looks like we got us a wet noodle. She better be able to take care of herself, because there's no way in hell I'm babysitting.

"If? If? Personally, I'd like to know ahead of time so I don't pack too much ordinance. Don't want my precious babies falling in the hands of them, now do I?"

Rhys eyes the lieutenant assessingly. She would probably be dealing with the device directly which meant that if it came to destroying it, she'd tell him where to put how much of what.

In her field she's probably one of the best. I just hope she knows how much she signed up for when she agreed to join a Ghost team.

"Thats a good point Lieutenant, but the Council does not want to be responsible for the enviromental effects of a nuclear weapon being detonated down wind from the Tir. Not to mention the death toll. The weapon is to be disarmed, and the weapons grade material recovered. We do want detailed hi-res photo's of the device and the lab that they are working on it in. If there's nothing else, we'll move on."

Fingers raises her hand, permission to speak freely sir.

After getting the go ahead from the Col.

"Sir with all due respect if the Dr is coming with us behind Cal lines wearing new BDU's and Battle Vest and shoes. She is going to shine like a beacon say Hi here I am shoot me. Sir please could you see if stores has some old BDU's and Battle gear. We can do something with the shoes sir."

Pausing for a while before speaking.

"If she is going in like that sir and the Oven gets hot you are puting the Team and the Opps at risk. If stores doesnt have any spare good we can see what we have got. By the way sir has the Dr had any combat training? As I am sure we are not going to baby sit when the lead starts flying. This ops has lots of lead written on it."

Listen to what the Col has to say on the subject of BDu's

" Sorry Sir one more concern. Security around this device is going to be high. Is there any intel on the Security rating of the area. As security measures?"

Taggert nods at Finger's 'questions'. "First of all, the Doctor wouldn't be here if she was not field trained. And second of all, you don't leave for the op in 12 hours, and when you do you will be wearing civilian clothes. So hold off on teh Fashion advice until you know how your going."

He finishes the last with a chuckle letting everyone know that it was not meant to be harsh.


"Al right, folks listen up."

The lights dimmed again, an image of the Tir country appears on the map.

"In approximately 12 hours, that's 0930 tomorrow, you will board a civilian transport for Osaka, Japan. As some of you may know that is the location of our embassy there. Your cover will be that you are a doing a routine security inspection. However, you will never leave the airport. Ten minutes after you arrive you will be 'detained' by a customs patrol. They will take you to a 'secure' location where you will then board a C26 Dragon on route to re-supply our Joint Training Base in the Lonestar state."

He looks around for nods that the information is understood.

“The aircraft travels at 30,000 feet most of the way. Eight hours after take off the plane will declare an emergency and descend to 20,000 feet. At that point you, and what gear you can take with you, will exit the aircraft. OpTech has some specially designed wetsuits that are radar absorbent, as well as some bags for your gear. You will descend to 500 feet where your chutes will deploy. If all goes well you will be just shy of five miles from San Francisco. From there you will use Oxygil’s and Submersible Propulsion Units to traverse the distance. Because of CalFree’s advance underwater detection network you must enter the harbor on the lee side of Alcatraz island. There you will store the SPU’s and wait until night fall. At that point you will swim the two miles across the harbor to The Presidio, the military base that is holding the Nuke.

Are there any questions about what I have covered so far?”

(Prior to Colonel Taggert's response)

Lt. Madigan clamps her jaw closed, visibly controlling the urge to rise to the implied challenge in Finger's words and tone. Her gaze dips towards the floor momentary, before she raises her head, her pale, smoldering eyes seeking and locking onto the Lieutenant's. Squaring her wide shoulders, she addressed the team's second-in-command, her voice cold and mechanical, her words measured.

"I lay no claim to being trained on a par with anyone on this team, but I have received appropriate training with the Peace Force." She pauses, and lowers her eyes, before continuing in a much less defensive manner. "I...I didn't consider the effects of the new BDUs though. I've got an older, more worn set from my training in my kit."

She takes a breath to say more, but slowly lets it out as she sheepishly glances first at the Captain, then the Colonel, before returning her attention to Fingers.

"The fact is that it sounds like you need me to do my part in order to accomplish the mission, and...and I definitely need you to keep me alive to do my job. As I said to the Captain, I'll do my best not to get in your way, and slow you down as little as possible."

(After the Colonel's briefing)

Darlene's eyes widen slightly at the mention of the jump, and even more so upon hearing of the two-mile swim, but she swallows visibly in an attempt to keep calm, and remains silent.

Fingers hold hold eye contact with Lt. Madigan as not to back down. Listening as what she has to say, giving her the benefit of doubt.

In thought
I hope the LT Madigan know's what she is getting herself into on this Ops, as here people play for keeps.

During the Briefing.

Fingers is a little concerned look on her face to the fact that this jump is close to HALO, this not being her strong point and she is concerned. The swim is not what worries her not with SPU. Not wanting to jeperdis the Ops before it starts, she realises that the challenge against Lt Madigan was wrong and now Fingers faces her own fears, well before she get to see any action.

After the briefing.

"Col one question" sounding very subdued the team know this is one thing that Fingers hates. To jump out of a perfectly good flying plane.

"The security in the compound is A class. Is there a chance that the SAT Recon have 3D SAT's overview of the location. Or is this a strict no fly zone for recon pics. If not it looks like we have to go in blind Col. We know what those risks are."

Sylph never says a word, his face never wavers as he listens to the plan. Mentally he stores the data in his head-mem. Seeing the new female in such a nervous fit, he sends a quick message to her mentally, "Calm down, it's just a meeting. Picture him in his underwear.", a small grin being barely perceptable on his face.

Linx didnt really like the sound of this. Nukes going off anywhere in the world was a bad idea....but on his back doorstep he liked it even less. There was a good reason that Einstein said he wished it had never been invented!

He kept quiet for now... knowing what his role would be and knowing that those with more specialist areas of knowledge would be asking the appropriate questions...

"I'd like to get a copy of weather and tide paterns so we can figure out how to make the jump and swim as easy as possible."

"Lt. Madigan, I'll need copies of your medical history and ware you currently have. If you haven't had a medical exam in the last 6 months I'll need to give you a quick once over. I'll also need your most recent psych-profile as well." Fraiser quickly pulls out a small pocket computer and begins making notes.

Darlene flinches, startled at the strange voice inside her head. She whips her gaze around the room, catching the last twitch of what might have been a grin in the silent soldier's features, even before she absorbed the contents of the message. Despite herself, a tiny smile lifts the corner of her mouth at the thought ... a smile which grows perceptibly larger when her eyes shift back to the Captain.

Lt. Madigan cocks an eyebrow as the medic finishes, noting the lack of any form of request, among other things, in his address. She takes her time in resuming her seat and drawing a data-chip from her breast pocket before responding.

"This contains everything you need."

“Tide information can be made available Captain. After you swim to the wall there is a grate about twenty meters down.”

The image changes from an over head of The Presidio to 3d representation of San Fran harbor. A red dotted line makes it’s way form the island of Alcatraz to the wall that faces the water. The image then slides under water, stops, focuses on a rusted old grate and moves forward.

"The grate is sure to have the best security they can covering it. It is the entrance to the bases sewer system. Once inside you will follow the route a hundred meters and then access a tunnel the leads up. This tunnel leads to the maintenance level of the target building. Now it is their R&D complex so expect heavy security. Once inside the building you will locate the security office and neutralize the Rigger. Once Linx has control of the building he should be able to locate the nuke and clear a path for you to the device. Once there Lieutenant Madigan will disassemble the weapon and recover the nuclear material. After that it is up to Kincaid to make sure the lab is out of business as permanently as possible.

Once that is done you extricate from the building the way you came in. You swim back to Alcatraz, and wait. The freighter ‘Thunder of the Gods’ will be leaving the harbor at 0200. You will use the SP units to board the freight and hitch a ride back here. Any questions?"

"Hmm...we know anything about the state of their matrix security?"

"It's a military base so were talking about SOTA everything. I would expect a hot decker could perhaps run the gauntlet and get information but I would not expect their critical systems to be on the matrix itself."

Frasier nods to the newcomer. "Thank you Lt. Madigan." He quietly begins reviewing the data on the chip.

"What about options for entery? Nightwings via remote controll or a minisub could both get us in nice and quiet as well."

"Negative, they have a SOTA acoustic array, anything louder than the SPU's would get picked up, as it is you still have to swim from the island 'cause the electronics would pick up the EM from the units. Intel suggests that the HALO jump is the least likely for detection. Non detection going in is a prime directive. Make as much noise as you want getting out, but no one can see you going in."

"Well it looks like this is going to be a tough one. First the HALO then a Swim."

This is not going to bode well with Finger. A highly specialised jump which most probably require many jump behind one name. Here Me Rookie Parachutist.

Fingers Eyes go cold.
This is going to be my last, my time has come

Sylph nods in contemplation, everyone is worried over the jump, but no worries over wading through the bases sewer system.

A Telepathic message is sent to Demitri, "We're going to smell like leftovers, anyone for meters will smell us coming, and this is suppose to be the stealth approach. Not to mention it's so.... cliche. If I were running the security of the base, the sewer would be the highest point of security, especially now. We need a Plan B, and maybe even a Plan C; decided just amongst the team, Intel be frag'd. Otherwise we're guaranteed to be stepping right into an ambush. I'm not happy about walking into the most guarded corner of the base or smelling of their refuse for my efforts.

"I hear ya loud and clear. Can you put together a spell to clean us off? I'll get to work getting topo maps of the area and see about some contengincy plans."

Sir, best I can do is a shower afterwards care of an Elemental, though it'll take some cash to scrounge up materials needed. I can summon it before we take off, but seriously sir, I think topo maps are a good idea. Personally, I'd rather take the base head-on. The problem is security, right? But it's a base, not a compound. People are on it, going in/out of it all day long. Sneaking onto a base is easy. Sewers should be the way out, in my humble opinion, not the way in. That makes it easy for us, since we bypass most of the high-security settings by treading in the footprints of those that are allowed onbase. Then all we have is the building to get through, and between you and me, I'd rather be topside for that instead of in a 1-way tunnel with no escape route.

Darlene Madigan runs a hand through her hair, absently tightening the leather strap that holds it back in a ponytail. She looks around at the team, each engaged in their own calculations about the upcoming mission, her eyes slightly wider than normal in what might be surprise or fear, or even a little of both.

Standing, she squares her shoulders and clears her throat before raising her voice.

"Colonel. Is...Is there anything else we need to know about this beforehand?"