The team assembled for their mission at the Royal Vancouver Yacht Ckub marina. The property was a small fenced-in compound outside UBC's perimeter, run by a couple of families friendly with UBC. It was located on Burrard Inlet, amid what was once the Spanish Banks of Kitsilano's sandy beaches.

The recce element was taking only their rifles (C3A1 and C1A1), sidearms (Hi-Powers) and ammo (6 mags each), each also with 2 frag and a smoke grenade and 3 days food. For comms there was Kelsey's PRC-77 backpack radio. 2x binoculars and 2x NVGs (including a starlight telescopic sight for the Parker-Hale and MacDonald's 25x Image Intensifier) for vision aids and pack/webbing (w/1st Aid kits, flashlights). Armour (vests, helmets) would be too heavy in this circumstance and so were left behind. (McRae's "stripped down" load comes to @27kg, MacDonald weighs-in @33kg.)

Their transport was a small zodiac crewed by 2 armed Militia (1 with NVGs). Once dropped off, the zodiac would return straight back to the marina.

The team's main element was also similarly lightly equipped. Main weapons, ammo, night-vision goggles, a couple days food (IMPs or MREs). Except of course helmets and vests were included, as weight was less important. Additional kit could be added when they returned to the marina to wait for the recce team to complete their mission. (Various LAW rockets, the Carl Gustav, C4 and Claymores were left back at the billet.) As the Signaller's PRC-77 was going with the recce element, Taras' Russian Arbalet-1V radio would accompany the team (but stay in the boat to re-transmit personal tactical radios signals to the recce element and UBC' reaction team).

Their transport was the whale-watcher RIB, armed with the team's Mk19 and crewed by 3 Militia (1 of which had a set of NVGs). Once the recce team was inserted, they would cross back over the First Narrows of Burrard Inlet and recce the northen shore of Stanley Park and the southern abutment of the Lion's Gate.

Their backup was in 2 PBLs held in reserve at the Marina. One armed with the team's C6 and the other with the PK. Each with 2 crew (1 pilot with NVGs, 1 manning the GPMG) and 4 extra Milita. A larger zodiac (crewed by 2 Militia) was available if a pickup was needed (from, say, a disabled craft).

The rain let up as night fell and the last glow of the sun disappeared in the west.

A waning crescent moon rode high in the sky amid the ragged clouds.

2 small craft slipped out of the marina, engines humming as they headed north across English Bay.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:46, Thu 06 Mar 2008.

Fox climbs into the whale-watcher RIB, weighed down from his overstuffed webbing. Earlier he had removed his ELCAN sight and placed it into the utility pouch. His C7 was now fitted with his non-telescopic starlight scope. Everything he needs he placed in the webbing, making room by removing what he could go without, leaving it in his rucksack. Feeling from the outside he ensures his map was still in his pants cargo pocket. Fox doesn't say much, just helps the rest of his group into the boat.

"Make sure your weapons are unslung while in the boat." he says just loud enough over the idling engine. "After we hit the beach, single file... order of march Myself, Lee, Shevchenko, Champlain, and the leftenant."

OOC - Order selected: Fox has good NAV, OBS and STH. Champain near the LT since she has the radio. LT in the rear since its usually the 2i/c spot.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:00, Wed 05 Mar 2008.

Taras jumped in the boat. The chest rig carrying 4 large capacity mags (45 rds.)and 2 handgrenades. His left hand holding a canvas bag containing russian made night vision goggles, his right hand clasped over the AKS-74U. A small backpack quickly readied at his UBC room completing his equipment:

Magnificent night!

McRae sat comfortably at the prow of the Zodiac. His kit was stowed away securely and his rifle was held firmly at his side. He waited calmly for the mission to begin.

Kelsey spent the rest of the day familiarising herself with the Russian radio.  It would be set to re-transmit the signals on the team net, and she wanted to have some skill with the foreign set.

She updated the team call signs, making sure all the subunits were on the same page and same channel. After that she checked the various hand-held radios that people would be using.

Also, she updated HQ on the call-sign changes, in case they needed to use the long-range net.

Call Signs:

Ruby-1: recce element (McRae, MacDonald)

Ruby-2: Zodiac transport (2 Militia)

Amber-1: main team element (Jagelis, Fox, Lee, Champlain, Shevchenko)

Amber-2: RIB (3 Militia w/ Mk19)

Diamond-1: PBL (6 Militiia w/C6)

Diamond-2: PBL (6 Militia w/PK)

Topaz: UBC Militia/RCMP
This message was last edited by the player at 14:06, Wed 05 Mar 2008.

Sleeping most of the day, Chris awoke before dark and got his kit ready.

After months of inaction during the winter, it was good to get back in what was clearly the field.

Andy provided a few good tips about how to prepare for the patrol. Mostly not washing with soap or using detergent, and making sure he had his last cigarette before boarding the raft.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:05, Wed 05 Mar 2008.

Lee climbs aboard the boat after accepting the helping hand of Fox. Taking a seat she unslung her SMG as instructed. She was excited. In the back of her mind she figured it would be just a quiet sneaking around OP, then head home... no big deal. But her heart pumped rapidly anyways.

Lee wore her ERT cammo uniform under her laden tactical vest. Her helmet, attached to the vest dangled near her hip. Lee's balaclava, was folded up over her face to cover only the top of her head like a toque. She had opted not to bring her shotgun.

"Got it" she says to Fox, regarding the order of march.

Belanger's last briefing echoed in their ears.

"Shepherd said that once all bridge traffic was choked off a year or so ago, the market in Lonsdale in North Van dried up as the merchants relocated, probably to Eagle Harbour. There are still people and families living in and around the North Shore, probably hundreds (so keep your eyes open), but no actual communities there aside from Eagle Harbour."

"No one's disturbed the bandits in Stanley Park for several months, at least from before the winter, and they apparently don't come out of the park. Last summer in June, a convoy tried to run the causeway from the West End through the forest in the park and make it north across the bridge. A couple of semis, a few bikes and a some technicals (pickups with MGs). They never even got to the bridge, and no one came out alive. Almost twenty armed men just vanished. The pickups and bikes were rolled outside the park that night and set on fire on the bridge and on West Georgia in the  West End. At least a dozen bodies were hanged from the bridge supports a few days after. People say they heard screaming for days before that...."

"After that, every few months there's a new body hanging there. Probably lone travelers trying to slip through the park and didn't make it."

---

Out on Burrard Inlet, the pair of blacked-out small craft headed for Ambleside Park. On approach from the southwest, the Lion's Gate loomed menacing and dark off to the right.

It was 2148, 2 hours after sunset. The night air was cool and moist, around 7 degrees (C).

A lack of maintenance by the District of West Vancouver engineering hadn't done Ambleside many favours. The natives had called it the "place of the dangerous waters" due to the ferocious tides that ripped through the narrows between it and the tip of Stanley Park twice daily. The mouth of the Capilano River was now choked with marshes, and sand bars formed offshore.

The receding water of the slack tide left extensive areas of mud flats near the mouth of Capilano River, alternating with rock-filled shallows. There was little in the way of natural wave action, although tiny wavelets from the boats' own wakes and the offshore breeze quietly shushed against the shore.

There was a quiet scrape as the zodiac glided in engine-off and grounded on barnacle-covered rocks. The night air smelled of brine, seaweed and decaying marine life.

MacDonald and McRae slipped over the side into the shallow water, wading in over the rocks, stumbling a little in the uneven bottoms until they hit the mud flats and the narrow strip of sand above them.

Then they were gone into the trees of the park. A short radio message confirmed that all was in order, and the boats quietly pulled away.

---

Meanwhile, out on the water of Burrard Inlet:

Splitting away from the larger boat, the small zodiac headed back to their point of origin, the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club. The engine faded in the night, although the team could follow it as it sped away in the grainy green glow of their NVGs.

Moving slow to keep engine noise to a minimum, the RIB nuzzled up to the rocky beach that bordered the Seawall. At high tide the barnacle-covered rocks were submerged but for now they were bare. The rubber cells of the boat 's hull rasped against the stone, driven up against it by the light offshore breeze from the NNW.

The Seawall itself was 15 feet of sheer, dressed stone and cement. The lower part was choked with seaweed and kelp up to the high water mark. Steps down to the water and the rock the wall sat on were placed periodically.  To get there required a quick scramble across wet barnacle-encrusted rocks that were usually submerged except for now, at low tide.

There was a minimum of quiet talk and other noise as the team got organised, then moved off towards the nearest blocky stairs. The boat pilot really knew her stuff and had held the craft steady as they disembarked.

Now they stood on the Seawall itself, weapons nervously trained on the forested cliffs above them.

On the seawall itself, straight ahead of them was sheer cliff. Off to the right Siwash Rock normally stood a little offshore but was presently connected by stone at low tide. To the left they could see the bike path/walkway disappear around the side of a tree-topped bluff.

In that direction hulked the silent suspension bridge, traditionally lit up beautifully in Hockey Night in Canada establishing shots, an icon of the city. From this angle it looked alien, immense, a relic of another time.

Atop the Seawall, the twin Bike Path and walkway was carpeted by a thick mat of fallen branches and loose rock. The debris had either been eroded or dislodged by weather from the cliffs towering almost a hundred feet above them. Normally it would be quickly cleared by diligent park personnel.

It was quiet and still, save for the spatter of water draining down the walls, pooling where the drainage gaps spaced along the top of the Seawall were plugged. It would be slow going among the shifting debris, if quiet and avoidance of injury were the goal.

[Edit Added: Some details of the landing site.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:18, Thu 06 Mar 2008.

Ben disembarked from the boat carefully, wary of the slippery nature of the seawater soaked rocks and loaded with most of his usual load. His only real concession to the stealthy nature of the mission was swapping the usually loaded belt for a magazine in his C9. Even so, two belts were stored within his webbing, packed out with lightly oiled rags to prevent the belts moving about inside their cases and making noise.
Right hand on the pistol grip, he quickly tapped over his body, checking everything was still where it was supposed to be, strapped down tight and secure over his everpresent kevlar. Then, a quick motion was made, indicating north.
"Just until we can get off the path," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the waves.

Fox waits until everyone is confirmed to be ready. He then heads off north. After a short distance they arrive at a more concealed and secure position. He waits a moment to allow Champlain to make any reports on their arrival. Digging out his compass, he sets the bearing to take them to their first leg of the move (which will eventually lead them to where Ben wants to conduct the recce).

Taras decided to leave the heavy Arbalets radio set in the boat as the signaller already was already equipped for the task. Feeling 8 kilos lighter was good for a foot patrol. The moonlight reflected in the white crests of the waves crushing against the rocks was enough to see without using the NVG. The heavily forested area ahead was a different story. The woods were one of the least desirable areas to recon. Something felt strange and made the red haired man uneasy. Too silent for his taste. Natural fauna are commonly heard through a rich natural environment like a large park. The menacing shadow of the Lions Gate bridge was impressive. Spanning 1,517 meters and towering 111 meters it offered 61 meters of clearance for large ships, amongs them the famous cruise liners that used to head for Alaska. The ukrainian had previously catched a glance of it from the distance and as a combat engineer gathered some technical information that may be useful for the reconstruction program. If things were to go bad in the Stanley Park area, the fact that the bridge will not support traffic of vehicles above 14 tons didn't make him happy either. Close enough for a BTR-80 but not safe for a fully loaded LAV III.

Lieutenant, it appears that quite a bit of equipment is going to be left at the boat. Do you think that somebody should stay here to protect it? If something goes wrong towards the bridge I can get the engine started and ready to go plus I can contact the militia and signal them from here. I'm going to leave my radio in the boat anyways...

The chill of the spray gave way to a numbing cold as McRae clambered through the water. The mud flats were open but easily crossed and soon he and MacDonald were into the cover of the trees. Andy paused to inform the main team everything was OK and then unslung his rifle and checked his weapon was OK.

Once they were both ready, they slipped like ghosts through the night.

They moved north to the BC Rail tracks, then turned east. The tracks arrowed straight through the woods and bushes of the various foreshore parks, moving occasionally past and between darken apartment and office buildings. They moved past a sopping mall, Royal Centre, parking lots screened by trees and hedges. The pair covered each other when they had to move past open areas, but mostly their travel was well-screened by the foliage along the rail bed.

McRae was just in the middle of thinking that while MacDonald may not yet be in his league, the man was almost ready to be called up from the minors. With a little more instruction...

The other man stopped and looked at the tracks, squatting down.

"Master Corporal... something's bugging me. There's no weeds, eh? Along the track. And look... fuck... someone's been using the tracks with maybe some kinda rail or maintenance car,  spraying weed-killer onthe rail bed." His voice was a whisper.

Squatting down himself on one knee, McRae could see the twin bands of steel of the single-gauge tracks were indeed polished, shiny surfaces free of rust. The metal felt smooth and cold, not corroded and pitted from disuse.


[OOC: moved and slightly altered this text here to make for better continuity. Also, both groups are at roughly the same narrative point.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:29, Thu 06 Mar 2008.

McRae clapped his hand on his companion's shoulder, "Good call, man, I'd completely missed that. As we move along, keep looking for the following: horse dung will show us they're using horse drawn carriages, leaked motor oil will suggest converted autos or trucks and ash and soot a coal or wood powered loco. I doubt it's the latter, someone would have spotted the smoke plume, then again, they just might not have mentioned it."

Lee falls into place behind Fox and follows him, ensuring those behind did the same (and were not left behind). After moving up in the more secure area she put on her helmet and adjusts her NVGs. She wondered how the other two were doing on their own recce. As long as it doesn't rain again... she thought.

"You got it, Master Corporal."

"No one's visited here for around a year... so yeah, I'll buy that. Also, before the war I seen small rail vehicles for inspection, and pickup trucks with rail-running gear used by the rail companies, like you say."

They checked as they went along, but there were no signs of dung or leaked motor oil. The ties still smelled of creosote. It was impossible to look for soot or ash in the greenish light of the NVGs, so they continued on their way westward.

Kelsey made sure the radio was set to retransmit, then she joined the main group.

Looking at the dark cliffs above them she thought, Lord save us.

... davai, davai...

Waiting for the team to assemble, Fox found a part of the bluffs where there was an overhang, and bushes grew partway down, concealing them from above. This being basically a seawall, there was naturally no cover from the direction of the water or up or down the path (aside from the bluffs themselves.

Fox checked his compass out of habit. After all, with the water on one side and bluffs on the other, heading for a major landmark, how could they get lost? Still, anything could happen and he verified where the North Shore mountains were so that he could always orient himself to north. Once done, he led the way.

It was about a 1200m from where they landed to the Bridge, and a little farther on to the stairs up to the abutment level.

The little file carefully picked their way among the debris littering the seawall, each watching their sectors. Large chunks of the clay parts of the cliffs had sloughed off in sections, dumping small boulders that they had to pick their way through. Branches, leaves and pine needles also formed small drifts.

Near the bridge, the debris got very heavy. It didn't slow them down too much, but it would be difficult to move quickly without tripping or making noise.

Finally, they came to "Lookout Point". There was a shoulder of the cliffs above them where a lookout had been built, behind it was a parking lot and gift shop/restaurant. (These were at the top of the cliffs, and therefore unseen by the team below.)

Down by the water the path passed between the bluffs and a small automated lighthouse on the seawall at the farthest point of land (Prospect Point), then curved back under the bridge abutment. Coming around Prospect Point, they could see the dark mass of the suspension bridge looming over them. It looked structurally sound, no cables or supports hanging down. The blast of the nuclear attacks at the eastern end of Burrard Inlet must have swayed it but not seriously damaged it.

They stopped for a moment, scanning the scene for threats. It was quiet except for a few small waves slapping on the rocks and sand uncovered by the low tide. The bridge creaked softly in the light breeze. There was a few calls from night birds, but otherwise nothing. Starting again they began passing under the bridge. Off to their left was the enormous concrete foot of the south support for the bridge; normally standing in water but connected to the base of the seawall at low tide.

A flare shot out and up into the night sky from somewhere along the top of the bluffs above and a little behind them (around about the top of Lookout point), bathing the top of the seawall where they were located, the top structure of the bridge, and the wooded bluffs around them in a hellish reddish glow.

As if on signal (as if) dozens of torches were lit and a long low chorus of wolf howls broke out along from inside the trees at the tops of the cliffs above them, feral hungry cries and moans full of madness and hunger. The guttural sounds coming from along hundreds of metres in each direction.

Their radios crackled in their ears. "Ahhh, Amber One from Amber Two, be advised that... HOLY SHIT!" There was the sound of panicked bumping and crashing, then the radio went off the air.

---

McRae and MacDonald followed the BC Rail tracks through a series of parks along the waterfront. They paralleled Argyle St. a little ways, then followed the shoreline. There was about an 8-foot bank, then rocks to the high tide mark, then wet sand and mud flats at low tide.

Even across Burrard Inlet they could clearly see the red flare climbing into the night and the orange sparks of torches lit all along the trees on the tops of the bluffs by the south end of the bridge. There was a smaller cluster of torches a ways away, towards Siwash Rock.

They also heard the panicked radio call from from Amber two that cut off in mid-transmission.

"What the fuck?" MacDonald started reaching for his image intensifiers to see what was happening across the water.

McRae had his ELCAN Black Cat telescopic night sight attached to his C3A1 rifle. At 3.1x magnification it was much less than the usual 10x Unertl day time scope but good enough for the job.

---

Tactical Options

Note: there are presently no visible targets, and no attacks (yet) so ROEs are technically still in effect. The entire park area is heavily wooded and so far whoever it is are staying back a little in the woods, as far as you can see.

• Stay put and seek cover at the base of the cliff directly under or near the end of the bridge. There are some small boulders and deadfall laying about, enough for a little cover from the people on the top of the bluffs but better than nothing.
  
• Go back the way you came (west). Either to seek cover at the small 2m hight lighthouse on the seawall at the tip of Prospect Point (but you would be directly under the Lookout) 50m away, or even further back towards Siwash Rock (west, then south).
  
• Go forward (east) towards the stairs up 300m away, or even further east to where the ground slopes down to meet the seawall.
  
• Seek shelter behind the foot of the bridge support. This would mean climbing down the seawall (3m), running across rocks and mud, and then getting behind the enormous concrete block sunk into the bedrock. Excelled cover from the bluffs, but you're pretty much pinned down there with your backs to the water.

This message was last edited by the GM at 11:16, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

McRae used his scope to scan the area. It looked as though Amber team had found trouble already. He tried to discover the exact extent of what faced his comrades before trying to contact them. Perhaps splitting the team up and then still going for the biggest reported concentration of bad guys had not been a great plan after all.

Lee crouches down into a kneeling/squatting position and brings her MP5 up into her shoulder. Scanning up the cliff she tries to make out any "targets". She doesn't speak but waits for orders.

MacDonald switched on the image intensifiers and looked through them.

"Huh... that's our backup. Maybe if they're pinned down, we can go back to help 'em out?" He was only being a little facetious.

Swallowing, looking spooked, Kelsey knelt down and shouldered her carbine. It didn't have a round chambered, but hitting the bolt release would do the trick. She aimed at the trees aboe her, looking for something.


Aiming to Southwest for Opportunity Fire

This was bad, very bad. He'd hoped to have gotten off the exposed seawall well before reaching anywhere near the bridge and observe both it and it's approaches from the hilltops. Of course if he'd only read the map correctly he'd have seen that there were no paths leading from the seawall until well after the bridge.

There were few options, all of them bad, but moving had to be better than staying put and hoping the locals were friendly.

"Back, fast as you can," he hissed his order, simultaneously ejecting the magazine from his C9. Thirty ready rounds were fine while it had been purely a recce, but Ben was certain that they'd very shortly be fighting for their lives.

Staying still, he allowed his team to pass him by while slotting the magazine away in it's web pouch. Almost in the same movement, the plastic box containing 200 belted rounds was pulled free, the oiled rag carefully loaded with the belt fluttering away on the breeze as the first round was fed into the weapon.

"Weapons to Action."

At any moment, Ben expected to be pelted with rocks and debris from above, along with shots from both the bridge and the trees. Sure their orders had specified weapons to only be Loaded, but that had assumed they'd be in amongst relatively friendly people, not suprised and out manouvered by a force strong enough to destroy a heavily armed convoy.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:50, Sun 09 Mar 2008.

Fox utters a quiet "Shi..." and crouches. The lights disorient him and he pauses in half crouch. After a moment of hesitation, he sorts himself out and heads off the direction they came.

Moving Back (after hesitating)
This message was last edited by the player at 11:59, Sun 09 Mar 2008.

Shevchenko was surprised and unable to react quickly. the amazing display of lights and sounds pretty much caught him off guard. A flare in the sky could only mean one thing. A well organized military force. Certainly the last thing that a recce team will like to face. The stealth element was gone. The exposed location, the "enemy" covering the high ground,...

Moving back (after hesitating).

As the team moved towards the bridge, a red flare shot into the sky and a clamour arose around them. Torches were lit in the woods at the top of the cliffs above and to either side of them.

Shevchenko froze where he was, caught in the bloody glare of the flare, as did Fox. Jagelis ordered them all back the way they came and to ready their weapons, and he commenced to load a belt into his own Section Automatic Weapon. Lee and Champlain were close enough to the side of the cliff to take some cover by crouching down, and they both charged and trained their weapons on the bluffs above them.

A few scattered rocks and branches rained down, obviously unaimed as they didn't even come close to anyone. Some clattered onto the pavement, a few thumped into the mud below the seawalk.

The radio burst with a panicked transmission from the RIB. Alerted, Fox swung his own rifle around towards the far end of the bridge across the water. He flipped up his NVGs and peered through the starlight scope, after switching it on. It was difficult to determine any details of what was happening kilometres away, but it looked in the greenish-white scope like a flare was going up over the north end of Stanley Park and pinpricks of light were dancing within the treeline. It would take a few seconds to steady his weapon a little more time to make sense of the situation. MacDonald finished taking out his own light-intensifier binoculars and switched them on.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:46, Sat 15 Mar 2008.

Recovering from the initial shock, everything was pointing towards a quick retreat. Since the team was not under fire it could be done at least in good order. Shevchenko will wait for Fox and Lee to pass him while covering them and as soon as possible he will proceed under the cover of Champlain. This will leave Lt. Jagelis as a last man standing. Not an option but the impressive amount of firepower at the Lt. fingertips could be of great help to stop an attack.


Take Cover/Aiming
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:38, Wed 12 Mar 2008.

After charging her weapon, Kelsey crouched against the base of the slope and nervously covered the trees above her with her carbine. It was hard to see anything. There were torches moving in and around up there, backlighting the branches and leaves in a kind of satanic glow.


Take Cover/Aim
(Ready for opportunity fire)

Fox moves back as quickly as he can in the direction they just came. Once he's back into the lead he will try to ignore the activity above and cover ahead in the direction they are traveling.

Moving

Continuing the reloading of his weapon, Ben urged his people on.
"Get moving! Don't wait for me, I'll be right on your heels!"
In a perfect world, Ben would have already been a hundred yards or more down the path, but this was wartime. Such luxuries as personal safety came a very distant second to taking care of those under his command.

As the Soviet doctrine learned back in the military emphasized extensive use of smoke during tactical exercises, Taras couldn't help but to ask the Lieutenant in charge.

Lieutenant! Lots of lights out there, Sir. How about a smoke screen? The smoke will raise towards the bridge as well. We need some cover.

Almost finished with reloading, Ben urged his people to shake a leg. "Get moving! Don't wait for me, I'll be right on your heels!"

Fox snapped out of his shock and bolted towards the rear. This time it was Lee's turn to hesitate and she stayed where she was. Champlain was waiting for her to go past her and looked towards the woman to see what the holdup was.

Waiting for Fox and then Lee to pass him, Taras first cocked his ASK-74U "Okoruk" (cigarette stub) and then also covered the trees while crouching down.

"Lieutenant! Lots of lights out there, Sir. How about a smoke screen? The smoke will raise towards the bridge as well. We need some cover."

Debris from the wooded hillside above them was flying at them thicker now: branches, rocks and pieces of trash like a plastic milk carton. A rusty metal leg wrenched from a patio table crashed through the bush not too far from Lee's head and she flinched in reaction.

There was no chance for the LT to take Taras' excellent advice. A bottle dropped from above crashed into his helmet, staggering him and spraying him with liquid, and Lee also felt a blow on her back. More bottles dropped from the bridge above and behind them landed around the team, spraying him and those around him with more glass and liquid.

They smelled something sharply familiar and unforgettable they'd not smelled for years: gasoline. With a WHOOOOMP!!! the world lit up with brightness and flame.

---

Watching in horror from over a kilometer away, in the greenish-white glow of the night scope McRae could just make out several burning objects being hurled off the bridge at the people below, exploding into orange blossoms of flame as they hit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:33, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

McRae looked on with increasing frustration. He was unable to help the rest of the team but was relegated to a useless spectator. He braced his rifle the best he could and tried to judge the range. He was desperately trying to work out if he could get frounds in close enough to make the people on the bridge think twice about staying up there.


Go Prone/Aim
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:32, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

Forgetting absolutely everything else, Ben raced from the fuel soaked area before dropping and rolling, desperate to extinguish the flames.
At least now they knew the locals were hostile. Now proper action could take place....


Walk 10m NW to I9/Extinguish Flame
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:08, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

Seeing Andy lie down, unfold the bipod on his rifle and chamber a round, MacDonald also got down on the rail bed. Gravel digging into his elbows he aimed the image intensifier at the far end of the bridge and pressed the button to fire a laser ranging pulse. He read the numbers in the green display and frowned.

"Range: 4223 metres... not a hope in hell, Master Corporal. Not even with a "Mac-Tac"." CF Snipers also used MacMillan Tactical TAC-50 rifles, a precision bolt-action weapon that fired a massive match-grade 12.7mm (cal-fifty) round.


Go Prone/Aim
[OOC: Canadian snipers of the PPCLI using the Mac-Tac rifle in Afghanistan, 2002 tallied the world's longest confirmed kill at 2430m.]
This message was last edited by the player at 11:07, Fri 14 Mar 2008.

Fox follows the burning Ben out of the blazing impact area and will try to extinguish himself. Dropping his rifle he rolls and tries to smother the flames. He hoped at least one of the team wasn't in the same situation as Ben and himself. Somebody had to remain armed and defend them.

Trot NW to I9/Extinguish Flame

"Ahhhh!" Flames licking at her legs, Kelsey ran to escape the inferno surrounding her.

Once clear, she turned, switched her C8 to full-auto and fired most of a magazine from her carbine up at the bottom of the bridge. Bullets spanged off the underside of the decking, the substructure and side walkways. It was impossible to see if she hit anything.


Trot 20m NW to I9/Fire 5x 5-shot bursts (25 rounds)

After the bursts of flame from the molotovs she tries not to panic. Despite her disorientation she heads in the direction she thinks they just came from. Lee sees another person on the team rush by, also on fire, but doesn't recognize them in the chaos. Following the automatic gunfire, she drops onto her back and tries to muffle the flames.

Head NW and drop to prone/muffle the fire on her arms, and back.

Andy frowned and nodded, wishing that he could close the distance by sheer force of will alone. What a FUBAR. The team was deployed in a way that they couldn't mutually support each other. The main team were literally toast and his binome was left with their dicks swinging in the air. At least their dicks weren't burning he thought stoically.

"OK, we're like a spare prick at a wedding here. I see three options. We stay here and watch the guys burn, we head to shore, arrange a pick up and try to help out, or we continue with the mission and hope there's a team to report back to. I'd value your opinion on these options and any suggestions of your own, especially if you packed a howitzer in your bum bag. I'd love to hear you've done that." McRae said.

Watching in horror the rest of team going up in flames Taras felt somehow lucky. A splash of incendiary caught up in his lower back and was quickly to addressed it. Being right under the bridge prevented major exposure as the leading members. On the other hand he found himself caught behind a large burning area. To stay was not an option and moving forward will put him in even more danger. The only option now was going back to the insertion point and get out of the shore as soon as possible. To try to put a fight would be useless. The enemy above was well protected. God knows how many of them would pour out of the woods. Taras decided to get out of the potentially deadly road by heading North and continue moving under the brige. He will come out to join the road flanking the flames. The enemy above will be covering their heads as he could hear bursts of fire aiming towards the structures above.


Climb down to K9/Extinguish flame

While the debris and eerie animalistic calls rained down on them from the front, several bottles of liquid fuel (Gasoline? Kerosene?) crashed onto the team from above and the rear. Pools of flame quickly spread as those splashed by the liquid tried to put it out.

Down below them, flames from where another molotov cocktail had impacted burned along the side of the seawall and in a pool on the wet mud and rocks. Taras nimbly jumped down the 2m to the sand and rolled around to smother the flames, succeeding.

Fox also dropped and rolled on the wet branches and leaves carpeting the seawalk. The fire on arm went out, as did the flames on his upper (but not lower) vest. His arm felt numb and there was no pain. Yet. His rifle was lying next to him, highlit in the crackling flames.

Running and then dropping, Jagelis put out the flames on his right arm. Unfortunately the SAW bouncing on its sling prevented him from effectively extinguishing his left arm (now starting to hurt like a mother-fucker), helmet and vest.

Breaking out of her brief shock, Lee sprinted out of the flames in the direction she came from, also dropping to roll to put out the flames. Her Nomex-weave police jumpsuit had protected her from the fire so far.

Champlain fired up at the bottom of the bridge to suppress the attackers up there. There was no cinematic slow-motion falling of a bullet-ridden body from the heights or other obvious effect.

Immediately, there was a single wolf-call from the general area of the lookout above them, and the howling, cat-calling and rain of missiles gradually ceased. The torches were either doused of hidden, and within seconds the woods and the top of the bridge became quiet and dark.

The flames from the molotovs lit up the underside of the bridge and the trees in a hellish yellow-orange glow from below.

In the sudden relative silence, parts of Fox and Jagelis were still burning, Taras and Lee managed to put themselves out fully; all were on the ground. Champlain was still crouched by them, pointing her C8 first up at the bridge, then at the now-quiet hillside.

---

Over in North Van, McRae sighted-in on the end of the bridge just in time to see the molotovs hit.

There was a burst of full-auto return fire, muzzle flash a sudden starburst. After, the lights on the clifftop were dimmed.

The action was taking place in a kind of eerie quiet. They were far enough away that the sound of the shots or indeed any action would take several seconds yet to reach them.

The radio still crackled with at least two people (one panicked and the other asking for information) transmitting on the same channel at the same time.


(Start Turn 4)


[OOC: Technically, McRae/MacDonald can't have much of a conversation in a 5-second turn at 1 or 2 sentences per post. However, it's no problem to overlook that while not in combat.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:44, Sat 15 Mar 2008.

MacDonald put his Laser rangefinder binoculars and sighed. He contemplated the dark water some 30m or so from the rail line at this point, then looked over.

"Thanks for asking, Master Corporal. We can't go anywhere at the moment, everyone's concentrating on the other guys, we won't get a pickup, if we could even contact the other units. If we run into anything, we obviously won't get any backup. Basically, I think we should chill here with our dicks in our hands until things get sorted out. Maybe we can Charlie Mike ("Continue Mission") then. If we're lucky."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:43, Sat 15 Mar 2008.

Not yet ready to deal with anything beyond the flames, Ben released his grip on the C-9 and continued to roll about on the damp ground. The moment his clothing and vest were extinguished, his helmet was ripped from his head and driven into the dirt to extinguish it also.
It was a good thing they'd packed plenty of ammo into the LAV and trailer. Payback was gonna be sweet.

Some sort of war call brought some calm to the previous inferno. The rain of debris and fire appeared to stop and the flames on the road begin to dissipate except for the occasional dry bush that still burning as a torch illuminating the night with a devilish collection of white smoke and crackling. Glad to be out of harms way, Lt. Shevchenko was moving towards the stairs located about 40 meters in front of him. The numb pain in the legs and the continuous shoulder check to prevent any flying object prevented a full speed escape.



Head towards stairs.
(Run to I7)
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:13, Tue 18 Mar 2008.

Opting for a "tactical reload", Kelsey hit the C8's magazine release button and caught the magazine.

"Reloading!"

She pulled out a fresh magazine, replacing the mostly-empty one in the pouch in its place. Then inserted the fresh one into the empty magazine well and slapped it home. There was no need to trigger the bolt-release; not firing the weapon dry meant there was still a round in the chamber.


Reload/Talk

No longer on fire, Lee rushes over to Fox "Here! Lemme help!"

She will try to extinguish the remaining flames on him, throwing herself on top to help smother the flames if necessary.

Extinguishing the flames on Fox
(Crawling 2m)
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:15, Tue 18 Mar 2008.

Fox tries to stop rolling about enough to allow Lee to help him. "Get it out!" he says in both pain, fear and anger. "My shoulders." he says.

Extinguishing the flames/Prone

Because of the distance, the sound of the gunfire still hadn't reached MacDonald and McRae before the muzzle flash ceased. At a little over 4km away, it would take about 12 seconds for the sound to catch up with the vision.

There was something going on in another area of the park, over towards Siwash Rock. More fires, more muzzle flashes and even explosions, again by the water.

---

Grabbing his AKS-74U. Taras picked himself up and ran NW towards the stone stairs that would allow him to easily climb up to the seawalk. It would take him several seconds to make it.

Rolling around and starting to be in a lot of pain, Jageilis managed to smother the fire on his left arm and upper vest, but his lower vest and helmet continued to burn.

"Here! Lemme help!"

Lee crawled over to Fox, helping him to put out the last of the flames on him.

"Get it out!" Fox said in both pain, fear and anger. "My shoulders."

"Reloading!" Champlain caught the magazine as it dropped from the bottom of her carbine, stuffing it in between her vest and tunic. Pulling out a fresh magazine from an ammo pouch, she inserted it into her weapon.

The odd missile still whizzed out of the foliage above them, obviously unaimed. The calls died out and the trees became mostly dark. The area around them still lit by the orange and yellow flames from the burning fuel, giving off an oily black smoke.

Then the roar of twin outboard engines reached them, from the direction they left the RIB and the Militia guarding it.

With it came the flat hammering stutter of the Mk.19 being used to hose down a target, and the echoing bangs of the 40mm grenades impacting. Most came from the direction of the cliffs to the west, but a few must have skimmed over the line of the bluffs and impacted somewhere in the park.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:14, Tue 18 Mar 2008.

When the sound of gunfire reached them, MacDonald broke off the conversation to look out over the water again towards the park.

Seeing a different second disturbance was taking place over by Siwash Rock, he raised the big LRF/LI binoculars to have a look.

"Holy Shit!"

There were other flames in the darkness. Not by where the team was at the bridge, but further west where they left the Militia and the RIB.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:23, Tue 18 Mar 2008.

Andy saw the flashes of light near the boat. He cursed harshly once more and tried to see what the hell was going on. The Americans had a word for this, "It's a shame we don't have a camera with the range, we could take pictures for the 21st century dictionary, this would look good defining "clusterfuck". Can we reach the boat that dropped us off? Maybe they can pull off a rescue of the main team."

The fire out on Fox, Lee notices the slight black gleam of his C7 on the ground and grabs it. "Here." she says quietly, "You going to be ok? I got a little singed myself."

Handling her own slung SMG, she puts it into a ready position and reevaluates their location. She scans for any threats, places of cover, and the status of the rest of the team. Seeing that only Ben's helmet (removed) seemed to be in danger of burning, she decided to provide security instead of rushing over.

Covering in direction Champlain and Taras are not facing

Taras tried to regain composture after the initial chaos. He realized that they were the victims of a well planned ambush. The initial reactions of the team were not coordinated but so far they appeared to walk out of harms way quickly. Jagelis still struggling with the flames was promptly helped by a member of the team. Noticing this circumstance he decided to consider what could be the next step.

Radioman! Tell the boat to get ready for hot extraction and request backup! Is everybody OK?

Move towards the stairs/Talk

"Patrol!" Fox hisses loud enough for all to hear. "Reorg... prepare to move." He looks over at Ben, dousing the last of the flames, "Leftenant, are you mobile?"

He inspects his weapon and ensures his night sight didn't get knocked off when hos C7 was dropped to the ground. Fox then briefly looks around and after ensuring those unhindered by being on fire were establishing arcs of fire he knees next to Ben, and asks again, "Ok? You mobile? We gotta withdraw and sort ourselves out in a secure spot."

Preparing the patrol to move
This message was last edited by the player at 13:19, Wed 19 Mar 2008.

Still looking uphill to the south, Sarah aimed her weapon and looked for targets.

"Yeah, I'm good!"

Then also as per Taras' suggestion, she tried her radio, set to VOX (voice activated).

"Amber 2 from Amber 1."

"Do you read me? Over."


Aim (Overwatch)/Talk (On radio)
This message was last edited by the player at 15:55, Mon 24 Mar 2008.

Lee responds with a quick, "Lee... ready."

Covering in direction Champlain and Taras are not facing

MacDonald put down his viewer and put his radio to his mouth.

"You got it, Master Corporal."

Hetried to transmit, but Champlain was already transmitting and he didn't want to step on her.

"Fuck."


Talk
This message was last edited by the player at 05:49, Fri 21 Mar 2008.

Whatever howls or catcalls were still happening in their area was drowned out by the continued echoing bangs of 40mm grenades hitting the cliffs and trees a kilometre or so to the west.

Down on the wet tidal sands, Taras continued running towards the stairs and almost reached the bottom. "Radioman!  Tell the boat to get ready for hot extraction and request backup! Is everybody OK?"


Standing up herself, Lee gave Fox his C7A1 and helped Fox up. "Here." she says quietly, "You going to be ok? I got a little singed myself."

With Lee's help, Fox stood up and tried to get his bearings. The night sight looked like it was still on and functional, no way to tell if it maintained its zero.

"Reorg... prepare to move." He looks over at Ben, dousing the last of the flames, "Leftenant, are you mobile?"

The LT was in fact not mobile. He was still rolling around on the ground, batting ineffectually at the flames on his lower abdomen. He paused to discard his helmet and it rolled, still on fire, over the edge of the sea wall and down. Then he resumed trying to put out the flames with his right arm. His left arm started throbbing with a searing pain, as if it were still burning, even though it wasn't any more.

Fox knelt beside him.

"Ok? You mobile? We gotta withdraw and sort ourselves out in a secure spot."

Kelsey answered Taras.

"Yeah, I'm good!"

Then also as per Taras' suggestion, she tried her radio, set to VOX (voice activated).

"Amber 2 from Amber 1."

"Do you read me? Over."

She knelt and aimed her C8 upslope to the south, looking for targets or threats.

Seeing Taras was more-or-less oriented towards the cliffs to the west, and Champlain had the south sector covered, Lee decided it would be a capital idea to cover the bridge looming over their heads and so she aimed her MP5 up and behind.

---

Finally, the sound of gunfire reached them. There was a long stream of pops from a small-calibre weapon fired on fully automatic.

"It's a shame we don't have a camera with the range, we could take pictures for the 21st century dictionary, this would look good defining "clusterfuck". Can we reach the boat that dropped us off? Maybe they can pull off a rescue of the main team."

"You got it, Master Corporal."

MacDonald tried to transmit, but Champlain was already transmitting and he didn't want to step on her.

"Fuck."

Looking through his scope at the whale-watcher RIB that had dropped off the other team, McRae could see it running flat out away from the cliffs, on fire. Someone was on the Mk.19, hosing down the cliffs with streams of 40mm grenades. Explosions, silent at this range, flashed on and around the forested clifftops and then earth, clay, rock and trees cascaded down onto the seawall and water below.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:56, Mon 24 Mar 2008.

Taras realized that the team was under great danger. The disabled group was easy prey for an enemy closing in either from their left flank or coming from the road ahead or in a worst case scenario from both. The bridge was already covered and the flank could be addressed but the seawall approach was unattended and God knows what could have come from behind that corner and at what speed. The stairs offered the perfect defensive position. Lying prone, Shevchenko pressed the buttstock against the vest, took a firm grasp on both handguard and handgrip. The bottom of the long magazine acting as a monopod helping to swing the AKS-74U slightly left and right across the width of the road. Only poking out his head to watch for approaching trouble.

Cover/Prone/Aim
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:51, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

Fox's questions are answered when he moves over to Ben and realizes he is still partially on fire. Kneeling beside the man he then will help put out any flames on Ben.

Putting out fire on Ben
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:52, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

Kelsey waited for Amber-2 to respond, knowing that transmitting would not accomplish anything useful. She covered the southern cliffs.


Overwatch to South
This message was last edited by the player at 19:52, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

Looking through his image intensifier, MacDonald watched as the RIB continued running west out into Burrard inlet, still on fire.

"Jesus wept."


Talking
This message was last edited by the player at 19:52, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

"I just wish he'd do it on the boat. If you can contact them, see if they can capsizse and put the fire out, if it reaches the engines, they're history." Andy suggested.

Turn 6 Re-Cap:

Bounding up the stairs, Taras flopped down at the top, taking some cover from the cut-stone blocks topping the seawall. There was about a 30cm high lip, better than nothing.

Through his NVGs he noticed that the cliff was high enough that in fact anyone at the top couldn't see him without climbing carefully down the side, giving him a nice shot. Anyone running around the corner would be dead meat as well.

The smell of burned meat permeated Fox's nostrils, and everyone else's as well.

With his help, the fmales on Jagelis fires were finally put out. Now that his helmet was gone (somewhere below them on the small rocky tidal mud flat) the LT's short hair was matted with sweat, and the man was breathing heavily, lying on his back, SAW across his chest. For the moment, Fox wasn't saying anything, cradling his left arm and blinking while licking his lips.

Champlain waited for the RIB's crew to respond to her transmission, but there was no reply. She continued to cover to the south.

Beside her, Lee covered the bridge over their heads, waiting for some asshole to give her a target.

Except for the crackle of flaming underbrush, it was rapidly becoming quiet although there were still various explosions happening a klick away. The scene around them was painted yellow and orange by the garish flickering firelight. At least their NVGs were working with the abundant ambient light and making it difficult for anyone to sneak up in the shadows.

---

Through the starlight scope and night glasses large RIB continued to run flat-out, still on fire, but thankfully it seemed to be going out. The Mk.19's muzzle still spat flame.

"Jesus wept."

"I just wish he'd do it on the boat. If you can contact them, see if they can capsizse and put the fire out, if it reaches the engines, they're history."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:50, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

"Lets go." Fox says barely audible. "Lee, lead us out of here." He had already gave the word to prepare to move so he expected immediate action from the patrol. Ignoring his own pains, he leans down and grabs Ben pulling him up. Regardless of the pain and injury Ben was suffering from, he says "Up. We gotta go." If Ben is too messed up to carry it, Fox then slings Ben's C9 over his shoulder. He then does whatever is necessary to get him and the rest moving.

OOC - Whatever Ben's state is Fox will either carry him, drag him, tell him to walk on his own etc. Whatever action needed for everyone to move.

Following Lee out (with Ben if necessary)
This message was last edited by the player at 20:44, Sat 22 Mar 2008.

"Amber-1 is transmitting on the channel right now; if I transmit as well I'll just step on her or Amber-2 if they reply."

MacDonald sighed helplessly, picking up his night glasses.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:19, Sun 23 Mar 2008.

Ben lay unmoving, smoke rising from his body, still soaked for the most part in fuel. Only the fact that his chest still rose and fell with each breath indicated that the flames had not taken his life.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:10, Mon 24 Mar 2008.

Lee rises and in an alert stance begins to lead the deep-fried patrol out of the area. If any targets present themselves, she will immediately fire semiautomatic at it until it goes down. She won't use up any time by getting down first. She looks away only for a quick second to make sure at least one person was behind her. After that, it was their responsibility to make sure the patrol didn't split. She was burned but not as bad as some of the others. At least my hair didn't catch, she thought with relief.

1st in the order - moving back the way we came
This message was last edited by the player at 14:21, Sun 23 Mar 2008.

Taras will wait for the team to regroup while keeping watch over the corner.



Overwatch

Seeing that they were getting ready to move, Champlain tried the radio again.

"Ahhh... Amber-2 from Amber-1, do you read me? Over."

Setting down her C8, she also pulled off an M18 HC smoke grenade taped to her webbing to cover their withdrawal.


Talk (on radio)
Prepare M18 for use
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Mon 24 Mar 2008.

Turn 7 Recap:

Scanning the corner, Taras felt the damp cut-stone blocks soaking into his knees and elbows. The long stamped-metal magazine of the cut-down Kalashnikov scraped on the granite surface, metal stock cold on his cheek as he aimed at the corner.

The sounds and glare of explosions coming from that direction had ceased, but the sounds were still rolling out across the water and echoing off the mountains to the north.

"Lets go." Fox addressed Lee.

"Lee, lead us out of here."

The Mountie moved out while Champlain got ready to follow her. Kelsey also readied a smoke grenade and tried the radio again.

"Ahhh... Amber-2 from Amber-1, do you read me? Over."

Then Fox turned to aid the LT. "Up. We gotta go."

However, what adrenaline was keeping Ben going seemed to have fled. The man was unconscious, perhaps going into shock. Fox picked up Ben's C9 and slung it over his shoulder, then picked up the LT himself in a fireman's carry. He was staggered by the weight of the man and his equipment, but it was barely manageable for a short distance.

Topaz (UBC) tried to raise both Amber-1 and Amber-2. Although they could hear UBC, UBC could not hear them in return. The boat never answered at all.


"Ruby-2, this is Topaz. Over."

"We are unable to contact Amber-1 and Amber-2. Break."

"Can you give us a SITREP? Over."

---

"Amber-1 is transmitting on the channel right now; if I transmit as well I'll just step on her or Amber-2 if they reply."

Aside from that, there really wasn't much to say.

Now the racket of the Mk19 reached them, muffled somewhat by the distance. The sound passed over them, then bounced off the mountains at their back. The boat had slowed down, and the fires seemed to be put out. It now trailed smoke as it turned south towards home and the marina.

The radio crackled. It wasn't either Amber-1 (the rest of the team) nor Amber-2 (the boat). It was Topaz, UBC.

"Ruby-2, this is Topaz. Over."

"We are unable to contact Amber-1 and Amber-2. Break."

"Can you give us a SITREP? Over."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:46, Tue 25 Mar 2008.

Kelsey pulled the pin on the M18 HC smoke grenade, then released the spoon. There was a pop and a hiss.

White smoke started spewing out of the canister. She held it for a second, then dropped it in the middle of the seawalk. A thick cloud issued forth, eddying in the lee provided by the cliff, being sucked up and then out. It looked like it would provide good cover for their withdrawal, at least from attackers on the bridge or the cliffs to the south, not so much from the west.

Satisfied, she picked up her carbine and got ready to follow Fox.

"Ruby-2, this is Topaz. Over."

"We are unable to contact Amber-1 and Amber-2. Break."

"Can you give us a SITREP? Over."

MacDonald handed McRae the handset for the radio.

"I think this call's for you."

"Topaz, this is Ruby-2, we are overlooking Amber 1's position but way too far away to intervene. Amber 1 was caught in an ambush by the forces holding the bridge. Those forces appear well-prepared and attacked with molotov cocktails. amber 1 has broken contact but has taken casualties in an unspecified number. Amber 2 also caught a petrol bomb and was last seen heading away from the firefight still burning. I believe they have put the fire out but have no confirmation of that assumption. Topaz remains effective and would appreciate orders on how to proceed from here, over." 

Andy kept any comments about the clusterfuck to himself. It was pointless spreading recriminations when people could be dead. He waited for Topaz to reply.

Lee will continue to lead the patrol along the instructed route. She keeps a pace slow enough for Fox carrying Ben. Lee will go until she the word is passed up to stop.

Moving/covering forwards
This message was last edited by the player at 10:17, Tue 25 Mar 2008.

"Ruby-1 from Topaz Actual."

Topaz Actual would be the head of the UBC Militia. In other words, Belanger.

"We have good copy on your SITREP."

"We now have a visual on Amber-2."

"Maintain your position.  You will Charlie Mike ("Continue Mission") is sufficient forces available and if we are not too far behind schedule."

When Ruby-1 acknowledged, Topaz broadcast to the team, even though they knew they could not hear their reply.

"Amber-1 from Topaz Actual."

"Be advised Diamond-1 and Diamond-2 are currently en route to your position."

"Find a defensible position and wait for pickup. You are advised to remain in vicinity of Prospect Point. Area Whisky of your position is too exposed to effect a Romeo Victor ("Rendez-Vous")."

"Signal Diamond using India Romeo (IR) light. One blink to come in, two to go back, and three to signal a hot Romeo Victor point with Tangos present. Echo Tango Alpha is One Zero Mikes (10 minutes)."

"Topaz out."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:36, Tue 25 Mar 2008.

"Somebody will pay for this..." The thought couldn't be more clear in the mind of Taras Shevchenko. He put down the AKS-74U and pull an RGD-5 hand grenade from the chest rig. Then quickly unscrew the DVM-78 fuze and remove the small backpack. One of the lateral pockets was filled with an assortment of items wrapped in white paper. He picked-up one labelled in the cirillic alphabet with the equivalent of UZRGM-0. Scanning continuosly the corner, Taras unwrapped the new fuze and screwed it on the hand grenade. The old one went straight into one of the pockets in his pants. He returned the backpack after making sure that the fire didn't cause any considerable damage. Scanning again he could observe the charred team approaching painfully slow. Like in a time lapse scene. He reached under the flak vest and into his left breast pocket. Taking out the small chess book that he found at the dormitory he tore the front and back page and threw them away. He also ripped a few pages and scattered then around the stairs. Corner clear, team approaching... Next to the bottom of the stairs an almost flat rock will serve the purpose. Taras deposited the RGD-5 lying on his safety lever and pulled the safety pin slowly while holding the grenade with one hand. The total weight of 320 grams was enough to keep in place the spoon. With the free hand, Shevchenko opened the book in its middle pages and carefully covered the hand grenade. The booby-trap was set.

Whoever attacked them will be too curious to find some items left for them to loot. In the partial darkness the abandoned pages with chessboards and numbers surely will look like military plans and a "manual" will be too delicious to retrieve as a trophy taken from the invasive force. Not stable enough to stand the removal of its cover, the grenade will likely roll on one of its sides.

A zero seconds delay fuze and 110 grams of TNT will be felt in 25 meter radius in an effective manner. Corner still clear, the team is coming.

Taras now rushed to help to carry the badly burnt Lt. Fox was sweating copiously.

Let's go downstairs, nobody touch the book, is boobytrapped!

The team staggered towards Prospect Point.

A few sticks, rocks and clods of earth either flew over their heads on ballistic arcs to land in the water or on the rocks of the tidal flat, or make contact part way down the sheer face and clatter the rest of the way to the ground.

The best available cover was beside the small automated lighthouse on Prospect point. The seawalk towards the corner or back towards the bridge could be easily covered in case anyone got up the nerve for a human-wave assault.

The slight breeze made being by the water a little chilly. Small waves lapped at the barnacle-encrusted rocks below the seawall. Driftwood had collected in the lee of the stone stairs when the water came up them at high tide and then deposited there when it receded.

As they got situated to wait, the taunting came. There was a rhythmic clinking, like someone tapping several bottles together to a steady beat.

"Warriors... come out and playyyy.... warriors... come out... and... play-ayyyy!"

It sounded somehow familiar to some of the team members, but it was a little much to process at the moment. The voice continued along in a kind of creepy child-like sing-song whine for about 15-20 seconds.

"Warriors... we're the Stickmen... we OWN this park and we just pwned YOU! You come 'round again and we'll fuck you up big time! We'll show you who the real warriors are... believe it!"

Then there was quiet.

---

Hidden in the brush on the North Shore, there was little McRae and MacDonald could do. Even with the image intensifying binoculars it was hard to see anything at that range unaided; in this light, they could see moving people at maybe 600m and vehicles/buildings at 1200m.

The could see the RIB limping back towards the Marina/base because it was using an IR spotlight to find its way. The 2 jet-boats and Zodiac coming from the Marina were also using IR-filtered spotlights to see their path and look for obstacles, so it was easy to see their position as they raced towards Prospect Point. Although there was little detail to see.

---

When the Zodiac and its jet-boat escorts approached their position, Champlain signaled them with an IR flashlight to verify their identity, and it was clear. Lacking targets, the 2 GPMG-armed aluminum-hulled "beachcomber" jet boats loitered about 200m out and to either side (so they wouldn't be firing over the team's heads), covering the cliff and the seawall. The Zodiac came into shore to pick up the team.

Within minutes they all were down the stairs, across the mud and loaded into the boat.

---

Still looking through the night-vision binoculars, McRae could see the pickup boats grab the team by Prospect Point and start back to the marina at the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club.

Once the IR spotlights were gone, there was nothing to see at this range towards the bridge, except for the green-white glow of the fire in the display. As McRae was getting ready to switch the night binoculars off and put them away there was a flash and burst of sparks of an explosion where the team had waited. Some unexploded munitions? A booby-trap? It was impossible to tell.

A muffled "Bang!" reached them a dozen seconds later, but he couldn't see any more.

---

Once back at the marina, Ben started regaining consciousness. Two paramedics started cutting away his burned uniform prior to loading him into an ambulance, while another couple tended to the minor wounds of the others. There was a little singing here and there, but nothing serious.

Waiting for them was Khandola in RCMP tactical outfit and a C8 carbine, as was Belanger in dark green sweater, baggy fatigue pants and maroon Airborne beret, with a Sterling SMG slung from his shoulder. Accompanying them was a half-dozen of the UBC RCMP detachment also in dark tactical gear and heavily armed (including one with a HK MSG-90 rifle) with another dozen armed militia.

It seemed that the second group had been more aggressive, attacking with molotovs and crossbows from the top of the cliff. One petrol bomb had gotten lucky and nailed the side of the RIB, although the Kevlar fabric prevented the cells from rupturing. However, one of the Militia caught a steel-tipped quarrel in the throat, and only getting her back as quick as possible saved her life. She was in stable condition and already most of the way to hospital when the team arrived themselves.

Belanger addressed them. "Sergeant Fox, I think it's important to keep moving forward on the reconnaissance, despite this setback. We can help cover your men. Tomorrow we can decide to go ahead with you meeting the fishing community at Eagle Harbour, if you're up to it."

Belanger looked at Taras and raised an eyebrow. "Taras? Could I please have a word?"

While Belanger grilled Taras, Champlain looked at Taras' radio to see why it might have malfunctioned. It seemed the antenna's lead may have become damaged in the Stickmen's secondary but even more vicious attack on the raft. It was a few minutes work repairing it in the marina's shop.

Khandola also debriefed Lee as to what happened.

While the team recovered its composure a little, it seemed obvious the RMCP and Militia were prepared to assist them with the "reaction team" role. They noticed that one jet-boat was silver and named Bruno, while the other was black and named Relic. The 42-foot luxury sailboat was named "Persephone". The whale-watcher RIB was named Jesse, and probably could put back to sea with some minor patching and paint work.

Most of their personal gear seemed to come through okay, although Lee's tactical radio was non-functional (being located on the back of her tactical vest meant it caught some flaming gasoline). She was given a precious spare from one of the Militia, and the malfunctioning one saved for possible repair or salvage.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:07, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

Robert removes his webbing and kevlar, making a compact pile of gear on the ground and sits on it. Removing his helmet he scratches his head for a long time, watching the activities around him. He thought how fortunate he was that he didn't get badly burned. His combat shirt was darkened with sweat over his entire back which was covered by his Kevlar. When suggestion to continue closed his eyes a little, as if the idea caused pain from within.

"You want us to go back?" he asked, not sure if that was being suggested. "I recommend otherwise. I'll do it, but under clearly stated reluctance and disagreement. We lost hours of darkness, we've been shook up, and the enemy is alerted to our presence."

"Going back with help would be more like a probe. And the tactical situation doesn't to me, seem like thats required at the moment. That area is occupied by a hostile force. We need to come up with something different if were gonna try to establish comms with that community. Heading back in... in the same manor would only postpone that."

After a moment he repeats himself, "Mountie reaction unit is fine... But a change of plans is needed for the recce element. Speaking of which whats the deal on Mr. Jagelis?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

"I think your LT will live. His arm has second-degree burns. Should heal in a week or two, but we won't know until he gets to hospital."

Belanger shook his head and swore in classic Quebecois fashion.

"Sacrement!"

"Not go back to the park, heavens no! As Taras pointed out beforehand, going there would be foolish. I trust his polite "suggestions" won't be equally politely ignored from now on."

"I mean on the North Shore. Do not worry, it's been less than an hour lost so far. Plenty of time to get back on schedule if we start right away, and I remind you the recce element is untouched."

"We can support them. If you're not up to it, then Lee can take over as unit commander."

"RCMP are specialists trained in negotiation and community relations. She is probably much better suited to direct this mission command anyways.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:27, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

Taras acknowledge the call of Belanger and was seen talking with him apart. Nodding, swinging his head. He was tired and the words didn't came out easy in that situation. After a brief conversation he excused and left the room only to fell in a chair resting the elbows on his knees and burying the head between his hands.

Thinking about it some more, Robert shook his head and says "No." After a pause he adds "Look, we're done for now. Time for mission complete isn't pressing down on us... The patrol is going to head back and reorg. Proper battle procedure will have to be done before he go to the North Shore, with or without the leftenant."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:12, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

Belanger looked at Fox and judged his character with long years of experience.

"The main mission isn't compromised in the least and we can help pick up the slack."

"What's going to change tomorrow or the next day, Sergeant? Your leftenant is still down for the count for days, either way."

He looked like he didn't want to make the call to bring the snipers back in, but would, reluctantly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:59, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

Shevchenko was regaining posture, clarifying his mind and assesing damage control.

Belanger, listen. Whatever happened in the bridge doesn't affect at all at the North Shore mission. We need the information from the recce team. We cannot risk another ambush or just repeat mistakes while walking in no-man's land. Let the guys gather the info and depending on the situation up there we can judge what to do.

Trying to be calm and sound convincing wasn't easy. Diplomacy was a rare comodity in the Soviet Union and certainly a luxury in an Officer's world.

If the town is civilised and quiet we can move in without the Lieutenant. We can gather enough personnel to work with. Especially RCMP agents. Since we can't have neither an Officer or the armoured vehicle, a Police force will sound convincing enough. You can count with me for that task.

A moment of reflexion brought silence to the room. It was the time to balance different options.

...but if the situation in the North Shore seems to be bad...Then we can bring the snipers back and basically report the situation to HQ and move somewhere else...

Belanger looked convinced. This was more like it!

"I agree. We should continue."

"Let's not bringing in the recce element, at least not yet."

"Fox, if you want to pack it in I won't stop you personally."

"Lee, it's your game then."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:14, Fri 28 Mar 2008.

Lee walks away from some of the activity to give Khondola a briefing as he requested. She lists of the events as they occurred, omitting any opinion towards the actions taken. She explains the sequence of events, and as much of the (limited) information she took in regarding their foes.


The short debrief complete, Lee returns to her patrol mates. Following Robert's lead, she dumps all of her armour, gear, and SMG in a small pile. Giving her self a quick lookover, she inspects her uniform for any burn holes or other damage.



"Even if Fox lets it be... I'd prefer not to." she says. "Actually I think we should pull out as well. It'd be different if it was bullets, but it wasn't. Half of the team was just rolling on the ground on fire."

Digging out her balaclava she rolled it up and placed in on her head like a regular toque. "What will change is the patrolling spirit. We won't be heading back in tonight with confidence or enthusiasm. "

A little of his French accent started coming through.

"Be reminded that you put yourselves into that position to be on fire, against mine and Taras's direct advice. But you are right, your spirit is obviously damaged. Maybe it will come back at some point.

Calming a little, Belanger looked like he wanted to be conciliatory, yet continuing was important.

"We really need the recce of the North Shore to continue. Please understand it's important to us."

He addressed Ben, who was coming around and hopefully had heard what was going on.

"Ah, I see your Lieutenant is awake, will you please do as we ask?"

"Again, I must emphasise that I am speaking about the original mission, the reconnaissance of the North Shore. Stanley Park will wait for another day, and I do not ask you to go back. If I may, you shouldn't have been there to begin with, but what's done is done."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:19, Sat 29 Mar 2008.

Ben lay on the stretcher, his chared clothing laying in rags on the ground.
"Nothing changes," he mumbled through teeth gritted in pain.
"North shore goes as planned. No further action for this element tonight."
It would have been the wrong thing to do sending anyone back to Stanley Park while the inhabitants were all worked up.
"We know what we wanted. They're extremely hostile and any further contact will be violent."
Just who who be more violent to who remained to be seen....

"Amen to all that."

Kelsey transmitted the "Go" code to Ruby-1, signaling them to "Charlie Mike" or Continue Mission.

MacDonald listened to the handset for a moment.

"....ah, roger, I have good copy on that, over."

"Ruby-1, out."

He looked over at McRae and smiled. His white teeth were visible in the light of the quarter moon.

"Well, Master Corporal, sounds like we're back in business. If you  please?"

He began policing up his gear in preparation to moving out.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:45, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

McRae smiled back at his Opo. He packed away his kit and ponied up, "Let's go and let's see if we can do this without screwing the pooch, do you want point?"

"Man, always the Injun gets to walk point, eh? Doin' the White Man's job."

He winked, then flipped down his NVGs and picked up his FN,carrying it at "low ready" (muzzle down, finger off the trigger).

"Sure, let's get a move on. Too easy."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:51, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Andy chuckled to himself and followed the point man, "Just don't go calling me "Raccoon Face" and we'll be all right."

Jagelis was loaded into the ambulance, oxygen mask strapped to his face and arm swathed in bandages.

The rest of the team saddled up. They could monitor Ruby-1's signals just as easily from UBC, as a backup for the reaction force at the marina (Diamond).

They had been given an old Land Rover Defender (hard top) from the Faculty motor pool to use as team vehicles, and Taras' UAZ was there as well.

Khandola took out his notebook and pen, calling Taras aside for a moment.

The conversation was quick and to the point. "Taras, do you wish to remain here and command the reaction element?"

Lee lets out a long and loud exhale. Very slowly she gathers her gear and readies herself again. Walking over she holds her hand out to Fox, sitting on his gear, to help him up. "Nobody is happy." she says to him. Removing her rolled up balaclava, she places her helmet on her head. Lee then Verifies the readiness of her SMG.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:45, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

It turned out it was a good idea that there was an advance recce of the community in West Van.

To get there, the two scouts made their way down the tree-lined railbed along the water almost to Eagle Harbour itself. It took a couple of hours, and they passed by silent vacant neighborhoods every once in a while, covering each other as they crossed open areas and the odd rail bridge over the rivers and streams carrying runoff from the North Shore mountains.

The empty suburban streets were littered with drifts of trash and streams ran down the middle, water backing up from plugged storm drains. Many of the relatively well-to-do houses of West Van had forlorn piles of belongings abandoned in front of them on the sidewalks, left there years before when the population was hastily evacuated without much more than the clothes on their backs.

They turned uphill north to circumnavigate the community of Eagle Harbour, running into the checkpoint blocking NW Marine Dr and concealed observation posts overlooking the Upper Levels (The Trans-Canada/Highway 1) where they expected they would be.

However, the various bunkers, dugouts and barricades were unmanned and had been like that for months since at least before the winter, water collecting in them and starting to fall apart and overgrown by the lush vegetation.

At around 0000 hours they were in position to overlook Eagle Harbour itself from the bridge on the Upper Levels. It was obvious the small community spread below them was also mostly abandoned.

There were no boats in the empty marina, no smoke drifting from chimneys of the houses. It was clear that most of the structures around the harbour looked like they were damaged in some way and the trees they could see showed obvious fire damage.

The only signs of life was on Eagle Island and a smaller adjacent islet, at the mouth of Fisherman's cove. At least a couple of fishing boats were moored on the wharfs there, and at least one of the large houses in amongst the trees had smoke drifting from its chimney. Eagle Island had no bridges to the shore although there was a wooden walkway between Eagle Island and its smaller companion, although they were only a couple hundred metres offshore at most.

Somehow, the population of a thriving community that they had expected to be hundreds if not over a thousand strong, had almost completely vanished.

http://marinas.com/view/marina/12395

[OOC: the first view is looking inland. Eagle Island is in the lower right of the picture. The raised highway in the background is the Upper Levels Highway where Ruby-1 is located. Although the area is well-forested, there are nice houses all throughout the trees. The high ground in the background is the foothills of the mountainous Cypress Park, a ski hill and recreation area.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:11, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Andy surveyed the scene of devestation. Shit, he thought, not great for the first contact. He looked more carefully at the abandoned defences, trying to see any sign of violence that would explain the desolation.

Once he'd looked for that, he moved closer to the ex-community and looked around the perimeter for any areas of ground that had about as much new growth on them as the bunkers, he also looked closely at the doors and walls of the community to see if there were any common markings.

He looked over at McDonald, "Be very, very careful mate, there are a few things I can think of that would have caused this: fighting, famine or pestilence, have a good look for signs of battle or any big pits, I doubt if it was famine here. If it was fighting we don't want to find any of the buggers who did it and if it's illness, well, I don't want to die coughing my lungs up because I wasn't careful, OK? Have a good check around and if we can't see any obvious signs, we'll contact base. If we see any obvious signs, we'll contact base with our assumptions."

Andy continued to inspect the community in the minutest detail that his night vision gear would allow.

"Be very, very careful mate, there are a few things I can think of that would have caused this: fighting, famine or pestilence, have a good look for signs of battle or any big pits, I doubt if it was famine here. If it was fighting we don't want to find any of the buggers who did it and if it's illness, well, I don't want to die coughing my lungs up because I wasn't careful, OK? Have a good check around and if we can't see any obvious signs, we'll contact base. If we see any obvious signs, we'll contact base with our assumptions."

Lying on the cold concrete of the empty bridge, MacDonald handed McRae the night glasses.

"Well fuck me. Where is everyone?"

He pointed out the myriad signs like burned-out areas, mighty trees stripped of lower foliage, skeletal structures.

"I worked as a volunteer "smoke eater" in the summers, during forest fire season. Ther was a big fire here, man."

McRae knew that every year the forests of BC regularly suffered massive forest fires and volunteer fire crews were kept busy fighting the massive blazes during peak dry seasons. Much like the wild fires down in California, BC forests were much wetter but the fires were bigger and much more inaccessible. Often the smoke would turn the prairie sky dark for a thousand kilometres east of the Rockies.

"The wind is coming off the water west-to-east, so this burn didn't come from a lightning strike on the mountain behind us, 'cause that would go the other way."

MacDonald performed a quick radio check on the secure channel, making a preliminary SITREP so the rest of the team would know exactly where they were and what little they knew, so far.

---

Ben was sent on his way, his ambulance escorted by an RCMP SUV. He was soon sleeping in a clean hospital bed, IV drip on a stand beside him and a nurse on-call. Not so peacefully, as nightmares of fire and explosions intruded in his dreams. He would thrash and move his burned arm, and the pain would wake him. Finally, he drifted off to a dreamless slumber.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:02, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

McRae couldn't see any signs of violence. No spent shell casings, skeletal remains or even the tell-tale signs of house-to-house fighting like holes blown in walls to allow access or grenades to be thrown inside, were absent.

The defensive positions hadn't been overrun or demo'ed, there were no burned-out vehicles (although there were a few abandoned ones). Either someone had spent a lot of time and effort cleaning up debris (which made no sense) or the community hadn't falled to violence.

The patchy burned areas stretched on both the rugged north and south sides of Fisherman's cove, meeting to the east.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:08, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Andy asked McDonald, "So,would the extent of the fire here be enough to drive the people off or was it caused by people trying to get rid of something? What do you think?"

"Good question."

He thought a bit.

"Could have been some kind of quarantine measure, I guess."

"One thing for sure, this was deliberately set on both sides of the harbour, as far west as possible. A stiff offshore breeze would have driven it inland where it would converge and hit the town before they knew what was happening."

"We could tell if we looked in some of those buildings. Maybe find a mass grave somewhere. We always dug 'em on sports fields, everywhere else in the mountains where I'm from is either trees or rock. Don't know if there's a school or park around here. Not like we're going to dig up any graves to examine remains."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:40, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

"Good point, we need to inform them before we go in anyway. Might as well pump them for info as well." replied Andy.

After they had the radio prepped, Andy contacted the Uni, "Topaz, this is Ruby-1. We have reached the target community and have found it deserted. There is no sign of violence but there are some unidentified but apparently controlled burns. We suspect sickness but would like to confirm. It is suggested that the easiest place for a mass grave would be a sports field, does the target community have such a thing. We would also appreciate advice about potential contamination. The only signs of life are on two small islands. Over."

Looking at the map and the "Blue Pages" of the telephone book, Kelsey took a drag on her cigarette.

"...ah, copy that on the possibility of disease. Wait one."

She scribbled down some figures, looked at the map again.

"Ruby-1."

"Be advised that there is a primary school, uh, Eagle Harbour Primary, on Marine Drive almost directly to the south of your position."

"There's a railroad beneath you in the gorge, coming out of a rail tunnel in the side of the hill. Follow that south for 600m. The field will be on your right, through a screen of trees, almost certainly a fence."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:26, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

"Roger that." Andy relayed the instructions to Mac, "will move there now and recontact you when we have confirmation of our suspicions, is that acceptable, Over?"

Kelsey acknowledged.

The pair carefully made their way down the steep side of the ravine to the rail line under the Highway bridge. Cypress Mountain loomed behind them, and a swollen stream rushed by them at their feet. The previous winter had seen heavy snowfall in the watershed of the North Shore mountains, there was even a flurry a week or so back at the higher elevations. Now the warm weather was melting it in a hurry.

The rail line they had left traveled from North Van along the shore and turned north with the coastline, then entered a tunnel through a shoulder of the mountain behind them, going north. The mouth of the rail tunnel gaped black and cold.

They headed the other direction, south. Thick evergreens with some leafy trees lined the double-gauge tracks on either side.

Soon they came to where the trees thinned a bit on the right. They crossed a drainage ditch and found a chain-link fence with low Elementary school buildings across a field and playground. Glass shards glittered beneath dark empty windows.

Slipping through a sagging section of chain-link fence, they found the once-groomed fields mottled with a mass grave. Different marked-off sections had a poured-concrete marker placed in the middle, marking numbers of buried corpses and a date.

The buildings appeared empty but they stayed out of sight near the edge of the field under the branches of the trees, invisible in the fringe of overhanging foliage to anyone without thermal imaging capability. Nearer the buildings were parked some West Vancouver District engineering and construction vehicles: A Bobcat, backhoe, 2 garbage trucks and a dump truck that had been used to transport and inter mass casualties.

Andy shuddered at the numbers and names on the graves, so many gone, lost to something you couldn't fight with steel, brain and brawn. It made him feel weak to his very core. He gave the vehicles a once over and inventoried them, they might be of use in the reconstruction work.

He contacted the Uni once more, "Topaz, our suspicions are confirmed, repeat confirmed. Please relay to University command for advice on how to proceed. We will try to determine the nature of the disease if it is deemed feasible, but we would like advice on how to continue, does the plan have a doctor's surgery on it? Over."

Topaz acknowledged the SITREP.

Experience and training suggested it would be unlikely that after months any pathogen would be active and infectious. Some might survive in soft tissue, but depending on what the microorganism in question it was unlikely to survive outside either a host or perhaps preserved soft tissue.

They slipped around the periphery of the field, keeping out of the open in among the shrubs and bushes now growing there.

Something seemed off when they got to the buildings. The vehicles had obviously parked there for years. Rust streaked their sides, windshields opaque with pollen and dust caked on. Tires were going flat.

Shrubs, even small saplings and trees, were growing around the heavy equipment, even up through the back hoe, parked off to the side on the wooded verge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:28, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Mac pulled out an IR-filtered flashlight and shone it on one of the markers. There was an alphanumeric string to identify the plot, the number of people buried within, an inscription and a date. All standard for mass graves, based on a template developed during the war in case this terrible possibility might come to pass.

There were nine such plots, laid out in a square pattern, three rows on three.



Mac whispered, voice choked with emotion.

"Shit... 1998. These graves have been here since the city was nuked. Middle of winter, January. Most people died then."

"Wonder what..." he paused to gain control of his voice. "Why, ah, there's not more grass? Three years, this should all be overgrown by now with bushes and trees by now, nothing visible."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:40, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Fox nods silently to the Mountie while looking down at his boots. Fuck it, he thought. When Lee approached him he finally made the move to get ready, taking her hand and pulling himself up. He raises on eye to her only comment and grumbles, "Yeah."

Gearing up he looks at Champlain, "Our comms reliable now?" After an answer is given he wanders over to Taras, "You comming with us again or no? I need to know soon as possible."

Digging out his map he nods to Lee to join him. They return to Belanger and Fox says, "North Shore huh? Show me the area of operations. What's the insertion going to be?"

After being advised of the potenial for infection, Andy and McDonald quietly moved into the compound. They took care not to expose themselves to the communities on the islands and looked carefully for an official looking building, a Police or fire station, a town hall or a doctor's office. Somewhere where records might be kept. His silent footfalls echoed in his imagination as Andy reluctantly explored the community that should have been left to the dead.

Shadows and darkness played with his imagination and he breathed calmly and regularly, controlling his mounting unease through sheer force of will. He caught a movement flickering in the corner of his eye and spun on his heal to face it, his rifle responding to find any potential threat. Step by step he closed in on where he had seen the movement, Mac covering him with his cannon as he did.

Each step brought him closer to the door of a General Store. He looked in and could see nothing but a big advertising mirror at the back of the shop. He covered the inside and gestured Mac forward. As he did he caught a flash of movement again and he relaxed, the mirror was playing tricks on his imagination. He lowered his rifle and stood, turning his back to the door.

He smiled at Mac, "More fool me Mac. I thought it was the Indian that was supposed to get jumpy in the scary ghost town, not the stiff-upper-lip white man."

He smiled as he looked at the tension still on Mac's face, "Yeah, that's how I felt but it's OK, it was just a mirror and my overactive imagination."

Belanger nodded, impressed that Fox was pulling himself and the team together.

"McRae suggested Whisky Cove, here, about 1.5km NNW of his current position. 500m NW of Eagle Harbour."

He checked his watch noting it was around 0030 hours on April 4th.

"Once the patrol has been completed, we plan on insertion for 0600 hours, just before dawn on the 5th. 29 hours from now, give or take."

The radio seemed to be working fine now. They could use the university's radio and antenna to repeat their signals, but it would make them more mobile to have their own comms functioning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:25, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Mac sighed and put his rifle down, trying to stay loose.

"Shit, this is goddamn spooky."

He stepped over the shiny discs of DVDs scattered outside the convenience store's shattered main display window, boots crunching on pebbled safety glass.

"I think that's the fire hall over there."

Mac pointed at a modern wood-sided structure across the street.

"Good spot," Andy acknowledged, "lets move over there."

Andy stepped lightly and strained his senses to try to pick up any tell tale signs of pursuit or danger, her was doubly alert,the place was freaking him out and he definately didn't want his ass handed to him like the main team had. When they reached the Fire House, Andy circled it carefully to see if there were any signs of occupation. The last thing he wanted to do was dive in like John Wayne and end up sticking his gun up some local dingnitaries ass. He doubted that it would be the case here, but Old Ma McRae had always said, "better safe than sorry". Well, actually what she'd said was "pop down the store, son and get me another quart", but its what she meant.

Once Andy was sure the place appeared deserted, he switched to his pistol and tried the office door.

They were now a little ways south from the harbour itself, following Marine Drive back the way they came, looking for what passed for an official building. The 2-lane street was empty and deserted, no vehicles were parked along what was designated a Disaster Response Route.

There was an eerie feeling of emptiness and abandonment over the tiny suburban community. Everywhere was the scars of fire and burning, the jagged remains of wood-frame houses hidden among the trees. What was once an upscale bedroom community with no large buildings and draconian bylaws protecting any trees from being cut down was now inevitably returning back to the deep forest.

By the time they got to the store, they were out of the burn zone. The devastation seemed to be mostly affecting the area around the harbour itself, and not the bulk of the pre-war community that stretched through the hills and forest to the south and east.

Across the street from the convenience store where Mac and Andy had the bejeezus scared out of them was West Vancouver Volunteer Fire Hall No. 3., a modern 2-story building on the corner of Marine and The Dale.

The main doors opening onto Marine gaped wide, pumper and ladder trucks long gone. Trash and unlooted scraps littered the empty concrete-floored bays.

On The Dale side, nearest the convenience store where Andy and Mac stood, were the Fire Hall's main office doors, closed.

[OOC: approach? Enter through the bay doors in front (south), office doors on the side (west), go around to the back and look for another entrance?]

After Andy had done a circuit of the Fire hall, he braced his pistol in both hands and held the gun pointing towards the floor. He gestured to Mac that he would enter through the open doors to the appliance garage. Stepping carefully to avoid the trash, he entered.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:40, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Mac covered Andy as he dashed across the street, then followed.

After a circuit of the building confirmed that there wasn't a vehicle parked out back, Mac slung his rifle and drew his own Hi-Power, chambering it. He followed Andy inside, and once through the bay doors covered the side of the room opposite.

The room was clear. They cleared the offices and then the back rooms. The building was empty of people, and long looted of supplies and useful equipment.

The offices and the front desk was empty and bare. Whoever had handled the move out of here had cleaned up after themselves well.

A trick of acoustics brought the sound of horses from outside, perhaps 100m to the east (back towards the distant bridge). They were closing slowly and not yet in sight, moving at a leisurely pace. Maybe a dozen horsemen traveling west along Marine drive, steel-shod hoofs on pavement.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:57, Sun 30 Mar 2008.

Andy and Mac heard the horses at about the same time. Ducking into the cover of the shadows, Andy found a good hiding place taht would offer a view of the column as it passed, he gestured to Mac to find a place wher he could watch the binome's six. Crouching silently, Andy patiently waited.

Nodding, Mac positioned himself behind Andy, facing to cover their rear arc and the rear entry to the building.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:35, Mon 31 Mar 2008.

The wide bay doors gave Andy a good view of Marine Drive, but anyone traveling along would have a hard time spotting them in the deep shadows where even the silver moonlight didn't penetrate. Plus, lying down in a rear doorway looking out into the bay and onto the road he looked like just part of the piles of discarded trash.

A single rider appeared, riding easily. The pointman's head filled the glowing green reticule of the starlight scope as McRae easily tracked him.

The scout wore what looked like Russian summer-pattern camouflage fatigues with a chest ammo-harness (no armour), single-tube NVGs (also probably Russian) and had an SVD Dragunov sniper rifle with night scope lying across the saddle. The scout also wore running shoes, not Russian-issue leather boots, and a camouflaged bandanna head scarf instead of a helmet.

There was a small Canadian flag stitched onto the right shoulder of the fatigues, glowing flourescent black-and-green in the magnified light-amplification image.

Wihtout stopping, the rider glanced into the bay (right at him, it seemed to Andy), then continued checking the areas. He continued riding at a slow walk without dismounting.

The main body of 9 more riders traveled 30m behind the point.

of the section (squad) 8 were soldiers dressed basically like the scout (some bare-headed or wearing bandannas or boonie-hats, western-style combat boots and running shoes). They were armed with AK-74 rifles, all with Maple Leaf shoulder flashes.

One large burly bearded man, possibly an NCO, wore a beret and  had a GP-30 grenade launcher (game stats as per the earlier BG-15) attached to his AKS-74, beside him was a signaler with a backpack radio. Another carried an RPK-74 SAW. A spare "pack" horse in the middle carried spare ammo, and a large bundle of olive-drab green glass-fibre tubes and cases that Andy recognised as a disassembled ATGM of some kind.

The 9th rider rode beside the NCO and Signaler. It was a clean-shaved young police officer dressed in camouflage with West Vancouver PD shoulder flashes and Corporal's Chevrons, black police bullet-proof vest. NVGs were flipped up on his head over a baseball cap turned backwards, and a C8 was slung on his back, sidearm holstered at the belt. He was talking on the radio, handset cord stretching across the gap of a few feet to the Signaler. Unfortunately, his face was not towards Andy, so he couldn't read the man's lips in the scope.

Moving slowly and keeping watch around them, the small mounted unit continued heading west past the Fire Hall without stopping. Getting into a fighht at less than 50m range with a section-sized unit would be suicide.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:42, Mon 31 Mar 2008.

Andy watched them go by and carefully noted the details he saw for his radio report. The mix of equipment was quite usual but the uniformity of some of the gear was very interesting. The patches as well suggested that they were trying to establish order, or, possibly to use an old symbol to their own ends. Andy continued to wait until the unit was well past his position.

With Andy supplying the information, Mac compiled a quick SALUTE report to transmit back to base using the secure channel. "Size, Activity, Location, Unit, Time and Equipment".

"...ah, be advised beginning SITREP. Break."

"Observered as follows: one-zero (10) riders on horseback, moving east-to-west along Marine Drive at Fire Hall number Three, appear to be nine Russian rifle or motor rifle troops escorting or accompanied by 1 individual dressed as West Van Papa Delta, at 0116 hours 05 April 2001, armed with 7 Alpha Kilo-74s, 1 Golf Papa-35 (GP-35 GL), 1 Sierra Alpha Whisky (RPK-74 SAW) and possible Alpha Tango Golf Mike (ATGM) with Charlie-8. Over."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Tue 01 Apr 2008.

Andy and Chris stole along silently after the cavalry. Tracking them by sound, they stayed parallel and slightly behind the column, the woods and buildings that they moved through and around were dense enought to foil most NV, Andy surmmised, especially if it was PACt not Western. The horse march pace was easy to keep up with, the only real benefit to walking it had was that when the column stopped, Andy and Chris would have expened a heck of a lot more energy than the riders, still it was all just one more beautiful day on the job for the CAF.

Whilst tracking the column, Andy was careful to consider their operational security also. there was no point remaining invisible to the cavlry if they got seen by someone else. Not slick, he thought, not slick at all.

Shevchenko took his time to reply to Khandola. He was well aware that the way the words were going to be put will be important and his less than desirable command of Shakespeare's language put him in an initial disadvantage.

Khandola, is true...I left a nasty surprise for the bastards. They barbaque'd the team and I felt impotent. No one could see them. I was afraid that they would overrun and kill us all. I was careful enough to put the grenade near the shore. In case they wouldn't touch it the tide would do the job...

Taras didn't regret it. It was part of his job as a combat engineer to create "obstacles" to cover retreat and other maneuvers. But this is not what he had on mind when the mission started. He thought that he will be working towards the normal return to peaceful leaving and found himself as the first one to draw blood.

Khandola,...It may or it may not be the right thing to do...But this fucking savages got a lesson and the next time will think twice. I believe no one has been able to challenge their authority but times will change that.

Looking towards Fox he added:

Sir, the reason to move to the North Shore is to contact the population over there and offer the services of the UBC under the IRON program. So far we have a very dark picture of what is going on up there. It seems that armed forces are moving around but no population has been found yet. This put the portion of the North Shore investigated by the team pretty much same as the Stanley Park. I would like to have more information on that fishing community. If they are in an island then is perfect to move in as we have a natural perimeter to protect us. They may also have first hand information about those armed men".

Returning his gaze to Khandola, Taras concluded:

I am willing to lead the contact element for the North Shore if this is what the council and the CF and RCMP members decided is the right thing to do. But I will not risk the life of any of these members in any case. The main mission of the team sent from the island was gather information and at this point is what we are doing. I would like to have HQ reported of the findings in Stanley Park and also the North Shore. Report also the physical and material condition of the team and clarify the leadership while the Lieutenat recovers.

"That the same place McRae inserted? If so, I don't think we should do the same. Someplace else nearby should be chosen." Fox replies as he looks at the map.



"Who inserts 29 hours from now?" he asks looking up from the map with a hint of confusion in his voice.

Belanger took a sip of coffee.

An oil lamp cast a golden glow over the table spread with maps and the radio set.


"The plan was for you to insert 29 hours from now. To make official diplomatic contact with the community we were told was there."

"Whiskey Cove is to the north of Eagle Harbour and had not yet been visited. It is located between Eagle Harbour and the ferry terminal at Horseshoe Bay.  Maybe less than a klick to either."

"It's still a relatively good spot and I see no reason to change at this time.  The sniper recce element originally inserted at Ambleside, about 15km to the east and a little south."

"The plan was for the recce element to observe the community for a day, and the rest of the team insert on the morning after next. "

By way of explanation he offered, "taking at least a full day cycle to observe the target community is crucial. During the day they can count noses, observe traffic, gather information... not much you can see at night, except if a community is there and has guards. Which they mostly aren't and don't anymore."

He brought out a pad of paper covered with notes. He made a few changes, underlined a couple parts for emphasis:

"I have it all written down for reference. It is now... 0120 hours on April 04."

"I hope this is clear? If not, please let me know."

---

It is currently... 1315 on April 3rd, 2001."

"Leaving at 1945 hours, the team in the Whale-watcher and a zodiac will travel via Burrard Inlet and Howe Sound to Whiskey Cove."

"The recce element in the zodiac, McRae and MacDonald, will insert into Ambleside Park, covered by the team (which will recover the zodiac). They will proceed along high ground the BC Rail line, westward." he traced a route on the map to the immediate north of the Trans-Canada.

"Some time around twenty-four hundred on the 3rd (tonight) or oh-one-hundred hours on the 4th the recce element should be able to place Eagle Harbour under direct surveillance for around 24 hours, until around 2400 hours on the 4th.

After that, during the early morning hours of the 5th ("oh-dark-thirty"), they then relocate north along the high ground and recce the proposed main landing site at Whiskey Cove. They then remain in place for the main element to arrive at 0515, before dawn at 0615."

"In the mean time and prior to that (also on the night of the 3rd), the rest of the team will then conduct a visual reconnaissance of Stanley Park and the Lion's Gate Bridge, traveling by water from the east to west, then south along the seawall. If insertion is desired (but frankly not recommended absent the LAV for fire support) it can be done on the part of the seawall with the low ground behind it here to the immediate east of the bridge, where I believe there is a stairs and trail up to the bridge abutment"

"Once this visual reconnaissance is completed and well before daylight, the main element will retire to the Marina to be held in reserve until they RV with the recce element 1 hour prior to dawn on the 5th at Whiskey Cove."

"Both elements, accompanied at that point by the media team, will then proceed from Whiskey Cove to Eagle Harbour."

"For additional forces, the UBC reaction team and supporting Militia elements will be held in reserve at the Marina for the entire time. They will have as additional equipment night vision equipment and a GPMG from our stocks, as well as a C6 borrowed from the team."

"Comms will include the code words suggested, hourly check-ins, and so on. Arranged by the team Signaller."

Lacking vital information like the presence of possible hostile forces he included every other detail that went into a standard warning order, including the presence of civilians and the need to treat them with care.

"Rules of Engagement are as follows: Rights to Engage in self-defense is always paramount. Civilians and armed forces of unknown (but potentially friendly disposition) will be present. They may be suspicious or confrontational. Weapons are therefore to be kept at "Loaded", magazines inserted but no rounds chambered. (Support weapons above Section Automatic Weapon or single-shot grenade launcher level will be kept loaded and a round chambered, including the automatic grenade launcher on the rigid-inflatable whale-watcher.)

Armed hostile forces (defined as outlaws, criminals, enemy combatants etc.) are to be met by going to Action or Instant (weapons free) as per the aforementioned Rights to Engage according to the situation.

Minimal force necessary is to be used against unarmed threats.

Exceptions to the above restrictions (other than Rights to Engage) would be to defend civilian life and property. Civilian casualties are to be avoided at all costs and collateral damage to property unless necessary.

Any enforcement of the Criminal Code will be done by the RCMP personnel present, at his or her discretion. Although it is worth bearing in mind that the purpose of this mission is reconnaissance and not law enforcement."
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:44, Tue 01 Apr 2008.

Examining some horse droppings in front of the station, Mac said these were well-kept  healthy horses, well-fed on grain and hay, with little local grass.

Andy heard from Mac he'd grown up on a farm up north with horses all his life, and concurred with his assessment.

Mac decided to lead off as pointman, following the unit but on a parallel course, so that they wouldn't run into a "stay-behind" element waiting to ambush followers. This would be easy; the unit was traveling on Marine Drive and like it's cousin in the south side of the city it too was a Disaster Response Route cleared of vehicles stalled after the EMP of the nuclear attacks just over 3 years ago. They could also clearly hear steel horseshoes clashing on pavement from over a hundred metres away.

Andy continued to folloe the cavalry carefully. It was strange, he thought, this unit represented far more threat to him than the ghost town around him, yet he was strangely comforted by their prescence

They kept pace with the mounted patrol, heading back up the rail line as it paralleled Marine Drive off to the right.

The patrol traversed the burn area, not stopping. They passed by the street that turned left and led past Gleneagles Golf course to Whiskey Cove, between Eagle Harbour and Horseshoe Bay. The sniper element turned off the rail line when it entered the tunnel (going north) and instead traveled above the patrol on the Upper Levels Highway (Hwy. 99)

Near to Horseshoe Bay, the terrain restricted Marine Drive, the Trans-Canada (Hwy. 1) and the Sea-to-Sky Highway (Hwy. 99) into a natural choke point 400m wide with a steep-sided wooded mountain on the right (the western flank of Cypress mountain) and the cliffs overlooking the water on the left. (The BC rail line traversed this area via a 1 km tunnel beneath the mountain, coming out to the north of Horseshoe Bay.)

Just above the town and ferry terminal itself (to the south, on the side facing West Van), was a line of manned roadblocks and checkpoints strung across the bottleneck created by the forbidding terrain. To continue, they would either have to traverse the steep wooded slope of the mountain on the right, or the hilly forested peninsula on the left.

It was a fantastic defensive position.

Anyone coming north from West and North Van and the city itself towards Squamish and Lillooet (or vice-versa) would have no choice but to go through the roadblocks. There was chainlink fencing and concertina wire, 4 bunkers flanking the roads, 4 watch towers, "dragon's teeth" to direct traffic, spotlights powered by a generator they could hear rumbling in the background.

There were signs posted:


Far below them, the patrol stopped at the far left of the 3 checkpoints in the east-west perimeter (there was one on Marine, one on the Trans-Canada that led to the ferry terminal, and one on the Sea-to_sky bypassing the town). Sleepy-looking Milita dressed in US and CF surplus and armed with a motley collection of civilian weapons (hunting rifles, shotguns, pistols) let them through.

The nearer checkpoint (on the Sea-to-Sky) had a flag pole with the maple leaf flying (in Canada there is no real "flag" traditions like taking them down in darkness, etc.).
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:42, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Looking through the night-glasses, Mac whistled softly as he handed them off.

"Shit, guess we know where the town went, eh?"

"Fuckin-A... the highway north of Horseshoe Bay is all 2-lane or 3-lane cut into the side of the cliffs. 3 guys and a sawhorse could block it off."

"I was thinking if people survived from Eagle Harbour they would come here, if not keep going to Lion's Bay or even Britannia Beach."

The terrain was a little reminiscent of Norway. Wooded mountainsides above cliffs that dropped off to oceans, small communities like Horseshoe Bay, Lion's Bay and Deep Cove were all on steep-sided fjords cut into the cliffs by glaciers that retreated thousands of years ago.

[OOC: The snipers are to right on the high ground just above Hwy. 99, the patrol kind of came up the middle-left on Marine. If anyone is wondering, there is also a SW and SE Marine Drive leading to UBC. There are two Marine Drives in Vancouver, one in North Van/West Van on Burrard Inlet and the ocean, and Vancouver/Burnaby along the north shore of the Fraser River.]

http://tinyurl.com/yt65mw

http://tinyurl.com/22f543
This message was last edited by the player at 16:52, Tue 01 Apr 2008.

"Yup, you're right, I think we found where all the people went." Andy agreed.

He looked around at the terrain and came to a decision. "OK," he began, "we'll radio in what we've found and then we'll work our way up and across the mountain a little, say 1000ms up and far enough in to be at the centre of the community. Then we'll take it under observation for the rest of the night and tomorrow. Once we've observed the stand to procedures for the night tomorrow we can scout out a suitable landing point for the rest of the team."

A short SITREP later, they were on the move.

Climbing across the sheer flank of Black Mountain in the middle of the night wasn't the world's easiest task. After a seriously close call where Andy saved Mac from a disastrous fall, they decided it would be better to maybe come at it from the other side, during the day.

For the moment, a prominence on the heavily wooded bluffs immediately above the town's south perimeter provided an excellent view of the town and the southern roadblocks. It was obvious that they weren't the first to be there. an OP was set up, allowing a clear view of the town, the approaches to the south and a fair ways along the highway to the north. The OP was currently unoccupied but had been used relatively recently.

During their abortive move, they lost track of the mounted patrol as they rode down into the town below.

To the immediate north of town, the highway was blocked by a couple of bunkers and a large parked APC, likely a Russian BTR of some kind. It was also evident that aside from the BTR there were no heavy or support weapons at any of the barricades. The defenses would be ideal for controlling traffic up and down the highway and providing security from bandits, but like UBC a determined assault might well crack them like an egg. The presence of professional soldiers was a wild card; with trained veterans backing them up the Militia would be considerably more effective against all but the most determined assault.

So far they couldn't see anything to lead them to believe there were more Soviet soldiers than the mounted section they'd followed earlier, or any other heavy equipment. There certainly could be more indoors somewhere. A Russian UAZ jeep was parked out in front of some condominiums with a shared covered parking lot, possibly the soldiers' billet.

Around 0400 or so, the Soviet NCO and sniper rode up from somewhere in town and made the rounds of the south and north barricades. He was similarly dressed and equipped as before, although in the chill night air he'd wrapped an arab kheffiyeh (black-and-white checked head-dress) around his neck like a scarf, and in the light of the floods his beret was the blue of the VDV (Soviet Guards Aiborne). Andy couldn't see the white-and-cornflower blue-striped telnyashka shirt underneath his jacket, but he bet it was there.

Also, it was apparent that without a covered head and face, the sniper was a young black-haired woman. She was alert and constantly kept looking around. A couple times she looked in their direction, but without her night-vision goggles on it was hard to know if she saw anything. At least she kept the Dragunov on her back.

From this range it was easy to read lips using the night glasses (x25 image intensifiers). He caught a few words between the NCO and the local Militia, enough to piece together some of the conversation.

"...Was all over before we got... Stickmen... if they come here... in the firehall, maybe looters... the train into the tunnel if we need to... be okay..."

Eventually after an hour or so at 0500, the pair went returned into town. He followed them with the night glasses down to where Andy had guessed was their billet. They stabled their horses in the covered parkage and then went inside to different units. A couple dim lights went on (likely candles, then soon were extinguished.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:19, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

"Right, right." Fox answers to Belanger. "Thought you meant something else... nevermind." Looking back at the map he nods and adds, "Yeah... ok then." Folding up the map he wanders back over to Taras.

"So. Are you coming with our group again or are you heading to the security group?" Fox asks the man.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:58, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

The information coming from the sniper team couldn't be more surprising. It seems that a somehow large party of a Soviet unit was in command of the area under surveillance and they appear to be working on their own or at least they were displaying the most universal of the canadian symbols: The maple leaf.

Mr. Fox, I do believe that my help could be needed at some point hearing the news from the North Shore. I'll happy to go with you. How is going to be the chain of command?

"Myself, Lee, yourself, and Champlain." Fox answers. "Acceptable? If not, you're free to fight it out with Lee." he adds.

"When and if we make any civil contact with locals... try not to advertise your former membership in the Soviet Army eh? Don't need any unnecessary problems come up. Some people might look at you as a quick way to solve some of their war related issues... revenge and that sorta thing. If there's actually Russians, in town... then it might come in handy. But until then lets not shout it out."

Fox nods to Champlain and Lee to join them at this point. "Soon as Andy and Macdonald fall back in, they'll join the chain of command obviously. I'm thinking two fireteams. Me, Lee and Champlain... command and civil affairs. You can take of the sniper and Macdonald as a security and maneuver fireteam. OK?"

Fox thinks for a minute and then speaks slowly - aloud to so all can hear but almost as if he's speaking to himself, "I am hesitant on leaving on an mission... our first really, not counting the bridge... without the leftenant. We should be a complete unit. However, can't be helped I guess."

Once the Soviet had turned in, Andy radioed in a SITREP, "Topaz, we have had target under surveillance and can report the following. There is a strong militia based perimeter defence backed up by a cadre of ten Soviet regulars, mainly conscripts but possibly one Guards Airborne. They have a UAZ and a BTR but we can see no heavy support weapons. There is no evidence of more than the one unit of Soviets. I caught snatches of the conversation, they were observing the battle at the bridge and possibly made us in the fire hall. Relations seem cordial and it does not appear to be a captive situation. They were also discussing plans about a train and getting it into a tunnel. Will continue surveillence to try to estimate numbers of militia and size of the population. Over."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:42, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Khandola had a useful suggestion.

"Mister Shevchenko has been made an Auxiliary Constable of the UBC Detachment. We will be glad to issue him an RCMP duty uniform and RCMP Auxiliary vest. This would make him stand out a little to be sure, but no one would mistake him for a Russian at first glance!"

"Sergeant Lee, I would also recommend a regular duty uniform for this task. Soldiers can be expected to look like warriors, but we should send a different message."

"If either one of you were indeed to dress in the ordinary day uniform, I would also suggest only wearing your sidearm, as a traditional badge of office, and not wearing a long-arm or submachine gun. This signals you do not expect to have to shoot your way out of trouble and are confident of compliance and cooperation. Of course, there are tactical disadvantages to this."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:10, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Holding up a hand Lee says, "Nah, its ok. I'll go as I am... and with what I've got." Indicating to Taras she continues, "Maybe he'll want to."

Pulling out her canteen she takes a few small drinks and looks over the reaction unit. After checking out their weapons Lee approached Robert, "Team organization sounds good to me... two fire teams likes that once we link up. It might make it even a little more effective if one of the security team fellas carried Ben's machinegun. If Taras doesn't go as a lightly armed Mountie maybe him?"

"Speaking of which. Do we know how long he, I mean Ben, is going to be out of field operations?" Lee asks aloud for anyone to answer.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:20, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Khandola looked as if it were beyond serious debate.

"He should wear the uniform, as of course should you."

"We serve as living symbols of Canada, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It a powerful psychological advantage."

He smiled to both inject a little levity and empahsise his advice.

The answer to Ben's condition was answered by a quick telephone call to the hospital. He had 2nd-degree burns on his left arm and 1st-degree burns to his legs and right arm. His overall condition had been upgraded from Serious to Fair, and improving.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:07, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

It was 0545 hours on 05 Apr 2001. The horizon to the east was just starting to lighten, but dawn was still a ways off. It was still pretty cool out and the pair shivered a little in the pre-dawn.

A few early-risers were starting to come out, one with a wagon making deliveries of some kind, several few boats crews in work clothes strolling down to the wharfs where several fishing boats were docked to get ready for a day on the water.

The door to the NCO's unit opened and the man walked out, still dressed (but unarmed). Apparently he'd slept in his clothes, or had never gone to sleep at all. He went around to the occupied condos and knocked on the doors, gathering the section. Unarmed but in uniform, they all walked sleepily over to where the horses were stabled to care for them.

As the town woke up around them and dawn started to break, they knocked off and headed down to a cafe by the waterfront for breakfast, laughing and smoking cigarettes.

It was clear that only the NCO was wearing the light blue-striped telnyashka of the Desantniki or Spetsnaz. The rest just wore white or black t-shirts under their camouflaged summer fatigues. Some were bareheaded and some wore field caps. The men (and woman) of the section were young, probably conscripts.

This matched what Andy knew of the Soviet Army in western Candada and Alaska. There were no actual units of the VDV deployed on this side of the Pacific but there were some in the Far East. It was considered possible that some experienced personnel had been "poached" from them to help form units filled with inexperienced recruits.

http://tinyurl.com/2dmrr4

Clarification: the map contour lines indicate that the prominence where the sniper element is positioned is 100m high.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:39, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Lee raises an eyebrow and answers - "I know what it means. But I almost got killed tonight and I don't know what I'm heading into next. I plan for the worse and I'd rather be dressed for combat. If I had more info of this place, and no reports of armed Russian cavalry... then yeah."

Pointing at Taras she continues, "There's a Mountie. All we need is one I'd say. And if he wants to bring just a sidearm so be it. But I'm glad I had more than that on the beach tonight, regardless of not having to shoot."

Aa dawn rose, Andy continued to observe the community from afar. He looked at the mountain. Getting a good position there would take about four hours, but also, it'd take that much again to get down and then they'd have to get back to check Whiskey Cove out too. It would take too long, they'd have to stay in position here. Andy and Chris began the boring job of marking up all the community's defencive positions, counting houses with smoking chimneys, counting people and boats and estimating population size from this data.

It was going to be a long day.

Looking at the Russians smoking in the light of early morning, Chris grumbled. "Man, wish I could smoke now. Even if tobacco is so goddamn expensive!"

"When the Soviets were occupying Lilloet before we kicked them out, we weren't so buddy-buddy. Some weren't that bad, but some were animals."

"Wonder if this crew is from up there? It's straight down the road to Horseshoe Bay."

He laughed heartily.

"Yes, perhaps good Taras should represent the RCMP, after all!"

"I shall keep this in mind in the future, most certainly."

"We both agree, it was a most unfortunate situation that occurred tonight, and one that has no doubt coloured your judgment. Not much less than a tank would have fared better, I fear."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:27, Wed 02 Apr 2008.

Kelsey grunts when her name is mentioned, cupping a lit cigarette in her hands and busy scanning channels.  She blinks once and smirks.
"Guess there gots to be some indians with so many fuckin chiefs.  I know my place, on bottom, right?"
She laughs, if a little crudely, and goes back to scanning channels, pretty focused on it.  She reflects also that someone needs to work too, while others worry about who is in charge, she knew her lot in life.


Kelsey stands and dusts herself off a moment, unjacking her headset and then moseying on over to them.
"You seriously want my input on this?"
*Her hands go on her hips, just a little amazed that she was consulted at all, like she really had a choice*

*Kelsey glances to the radio.. so much for a 'pow-wow' with the chiefs, indian work time.  She scratches down the message, just in case and repeats it, making sure it is received by the 'chief', and plugging her headset in*
*muttered*"Just in time for a pow-wow with the chiefs"
*she chuckles and breaths out smoke, the cigarette now dangling from her lips*

*She looks up again*
"I suggest you folks leave the RTO a bit back to be able to relay with the big radio, since your lil pricks ain't got any range"


(Ahhh the PRC-77, so unappreciated)

*Another snort and Kelsey pulls out her RSR Glengarry, adjusting it to a jaunty angle on her head*



(sorry about not combining all that into one post!)

A Canadian flag flew from the flagpole at the little park by the narrow waterfront. The marina was on the left (west), the BC Ferries docks (now empty) on the right (east). Sandwiching the two was Black Mountain on the land side and the high woooded peninsula on the Georgia Straight side.

After a dawn that lit the scattered clouds pink, darker clouds came  off the water and a light rain started to fall.

The surveillance continued during the morning. Nothing particularly odd or threatening was observed, just a small fishing village going about its business. Fires for cooking and heating were lit, smoke rose from chimneys into the sky. Not only the main town site was occupied, but smoke came from dwellings hidden in the trees of the high ground of the peninsula to the west of the town.

There were a few running vehicles, basically a few trucks for cargo moving and general utility. Most transport was via horseback or on foot.

The population was around 1000 (roughly pre-war levels), and they guessed there was around 100-120 standing Militia. (Andy guessed that there were normally 6 at each of 4 roadblocks, 3 shifts a day, plus a call-up reserve, although currently they seemed double-staffed.) This was proportionally a little high for this size of community. Officers of the West Vancouver PD (easy to pick out in their yellow rain slickers) acted as their unit NCOs and command staff.

The 9 Russians observed so far seemed to form kind of a cadre and reaction force, much like the RCMP at UBC, and seemed to get along well with the locals. Some even seemed to have learned English, somewhat unusual for occupying Russians, and the local women didn't seem to avoid them unduly. Clearly, they'd been here for months.

At the roadblocks, the Militia stood-to before dawn, and after the patrol returned seemed to be at a relatively high state of alertness (which is natural if they expected some kind of threat). There was a shift change at 0800 and the level of alertness was gradually relaxed and half the Militia sent home, reducing them to what they guessed was "normal" levels. It seemed the BTR parked at the north roadblock wasn't manned by Russians but by local Militia (presumably the Russians would "borrow it back" if need be).

Throughout the morning, work parties with flatbed wagons left both south and north, probably looking for salvage and firewood. Some firewood parties with horse wagons came relatively close to the snipers' hide, traveling on a service road that went past them, up into the mountainous forested parkland area to the east.

Before noon, upwards of a dozen travelers (total) on foot, horseback or wagons came from the north down the highway and then down into town or just passed through. One rusty Chevy flatbed truck loaded with scrap came up from the south, and there was an animated discussion about last night's disturbance across Burrard Inlet (no one knew what it was all about but guessed the "Stickmen" were somehow involved).

The Russians sent out 3-man recce patrols (2 to the south, 1 to the north) into the rainy morning at staggered intervals in the same period (before noon).

The patrols were on foot and lightly armed and equipped. If they followed standard Soviet combat reconnaissance patrol doctrine for small units, they would patrol an area 600-1000m away and establish and observation posts (the OPs would become Listening Posts at night). Larger units had highly trained special reconnaissance troops (vysotniki) who would gather much additional intelligence primarily via ambushes designed to capture documents and prisoners. Something they obviously weren't doing here.

Around noon it began to rain heavily on the North Shore and Vancouver.

[OOC: Sorry, should have mentioned the Militia standing-to before dawn and being generally alert. It's around noon, and the light rain has become heavy rain.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:19, Thu 03 Apr 2008.

Taras was happy to see that the team was pulling up together and a flurry of activity was filling the room. Some wounds were healing faster than the others...

Not a problem, Sgt. Fox. I'll be glad to be a member of the internationally respected RCMP. Back in the Soviet Union was one the icons that represented this country. I may need a new pistol, though. This cut up holster will show off my Makarov and that could rise some questions. I may need to get familiar with it too...I believe it will be you, Mr. Fox, the one doing the talking...If so, I will be able to carry with me, in a briefcase, all the paperwork that we may require. I'll keep a low profile, you can count on it."

Moving towards the female soldier he added:

Private Champlain, it is important to establish a chain of command as we have a very special situation with military, police and...me too! But here everybody counts. I'm very interested in the radio traffic. This may give us extra information that the sniper team will not be able to gather. Please let me know if there is some traffic in Russian and I'll translate that. Now that we know more or less the size of their forces we need to understand their intentions.

The heavy rain was bringing a good deal of darkness to otherwise a beautiful spring day in Vancouver.

I hear the RCMP carries Smith and Wesson,...I thought those were revolvers...You know, like the cowboys... bang, bang...

"It's not a democracy, but everyone is free to voice opinion. Leftenant Jagelis or myself will hear out any of the team members. That, and I want you to know what is going on." Fox answers her.

Fox gives an understanding nod to Taras. "Alright, good." he says.  "I do weapons and tactics... civil affairs will be initiated by the SME... subject matter expert. That'll be Lee. At the point of friendly contact, I'll hand over command and control to her. While this is being done, you and the snipers can provide a mobile defense for us. This'll allow us to sling weapons and concentrate of public duties, while still maintaining aggressive unit security."

"I wouldn't worry too much about your Makarov. Most people won't know the difference. But if you want, My guess is Belanger or someone could set you up no problem. I'm sure Lee will be a good choice for familiarization. She's a veteran of different police tactical units." he continues with Taras.

Fox smiles at the mans last statement.

Fox then gets Khandola's attention and leads him a few feet away for privacy. He speaks in a friendly manor, "Easy on the fellas eh? Decisions contrary to your own aren't necessarily right or wrong. You guys might know more about the area around here and whats going on... but what do you think everyone else has been doing? Getting through their own struggles elsewhere by making their own choices thats what."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:43, Thu 03 Apr 2008.

Again, Khandola laughed.

"Ha! Yes! Very diplomatically put!"

"Of course you are correct, there are always many choices. But no matter! Ha!"

"Gentle sirs and ladies, I would be most humbly honoured and gratified if my years of training, experience and local knowledge were, in your eyes, qualify me as, what do you call it, SME? In some minor way."

"However, Sergeant Lee has indicated that she would prefer to leave the Civil Affairs to Taras, and I concur with this choice. He has proven most capable indeed in the realm of Civil Affairs."

"I shall be more that glad to issue Taras one of our spare sidearms, as the West Vancouver Police will surely know the difference between the Sig-Sauer or Smith and Wesson and the Makarov. He can easily get a few minutes of target practice to familiarise himself before leaving."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:36, Thu 03 Apr 2008.

Andy kept making a note of what was going on in the little fishing village below him. He particularly noted the way the Police seemed to be in charge. Thinking about it he had an idea that seemed so blindingly obvious that it must have already been tried before. Still, sometimes the blindingly obvious was missed.

When he sent in his next SITREP he also asked, "Since the Cops seem to be in cahrge here, is there any milage in trying the cop radio channels as a means of contacting them instead of just appearing out of nowhere at their doorstep?"

*She grins a bit*
"Hey, I'm used to being on bottom, it's what us support types are regulated too.  At least I don't do it all the time, you know.. personal life"
*she winks slowly, then laughs*
"Actually, been monitoring things... and will work harder on picking up theirs, since UBC ain't bein so chatty anyway"



"Oh, you can be assured of my input, wanted or not"



*She turns back to the radio, hearing the buzzing on her main freq, and tuning in, bringing them all in on the sitrep and taking notes.   She laughs a little on the last suggestion*

"Roger that Uniform wun-too, Uniform wun-fihuhv acknowledges and will hopefully have such available alpha sierra alpha papa"

She glances up to the LT, offering the mic.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:55, Thu 03 Apr 2008.