1200+ hours.
05 Apr 2001

With some protest from Doctor Chandra, Ben was released from UBC Hospital in the early afternoon at his insistence shuttled back to the Marina in an RCMP SUV, windshield wipers slapping back and forth. Once there in the Marina's luxuriously nautically-themed lounge he seemed a little out of it and feeling no pain due to the medicine he'd been given, but his arm was bandaged and in a sling, and he was on a course of antibiotics.

In the cold rain of the North Shore, the recce team noted that the people leaving to the south (be they travelers or town work parties) were armed with at least one firearm. (Those leaving to the north seemed mostly unarmed.) The weapons the work parties carried were mostly variously pump and double-barreled shotguns, pistols and bolt-action hunting rifles, but a few were Chinese-made SKS and AK-47s. Also, at least a couple dozen of these weapons were in the hands of the Militia to beef up their own civilian arms. Before the war in the early 90's, Norinco had flooded North America with these weapons and ammunition.

McRae's suggestion to monitor the police bands came in as Champlain went about implementing Taras' idea along the same lines. Great minds indeed thought alike!

Immediately, they began picking up signals on the police band assigned to the West Van PD. It would likely take days of SIGINT gathering to decipher the codes, sort out the number and identity of stations, chart the individual call-signs and even voices of the senders, and so on. For the most part it was all routine traffic, radio-checks from the OPs and a HQ/command centre somewhere in town. Being in the District of West Van, Horseshoe Bay hadn't had its own police station or government building prior to the war, and the fire hall was just to the south outside of the security perimeter, so where the HQ was located was still a mystery.

The voices were all in English (some Russian-accented) so Taras' skills as a translator weren't needed. However, later on in the day, there was one Russian voice that was a tortured mixture of English, Russian and... Kazakh?

Taras' ears pricked up and a chill went down his spine as he listened to the crackling broadcast.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:13, Thu 03 Apr 2008.

(OOC: tongue firmly planted in cheek, of course)
McRae's suggestion.. bah, the doer never gets any credit, without her skill where would they be.. besides monitoring radio signals is something she does regularly anyway.  It's why having at least two radios is important to an RTO.
Anyway.



Work that Sarah immediately undertakes, it is her job, after all.



*She turns to look at the Russian, her brow perking and her face serious, pausing a moment to shake a cigarette from her pack*

"Ok, I think you need to share what made you act like someone walked over your grave"

Also, included along with Jagelis was a 9x19mm Smith and Wesson Model 5946, 2 spare magazines and a precious box of 9mm ammunition for practice. Also, his measurements were taken and a uniform modified to fit him. The flashes and regimental badges identified him as being in the RCMP, not an Auxiliary.

Andy kept low when the foraging parties were going past. He was glad they were still using radios below, contacting the village by radio before meeting face to face would be polite, sort of like calling before dropping in on a friend. He hoped this contact would go better than the one with the stickmen.

Shevchenko's face appeared to be frozen in time. Suddenly his jaw dropped:

Holy Mother of Kazan! Let a thunder fall on my head right now if I don't know that voice!

He turns his head to call the attention of Sgt. Fox:

Sgt. Fox! I think we have something here that could be interesting!

Fox walks over visibly interested. "Yeah?" he asks, "Something come over the net?"

Lee casually raises a hand, and says - "No, no. I have no issues with doing it. My choice of uniform won't hinder my motivation or ability." Nodding to Taras she continues, "More than one is not a bad idea... but until either Sgt. Fox or Mr. Jagelis relieves me, my task will remain for this mission."

Her attention is later drawn to Taras when he announces his recognition of the voice over the radio. She imagined this would be their way in. They would work this out as the means to begin negotiations.

Recovering from the initial surprise now the face of the Ukrainian was turning into  excitement:

I swear that rascal talking on the radio is my good friend Bulat Shailin. I met him in the Caucasus, he was a Sargent desantniki VDV. A good kazakh guy. He was in Afghanistan, that may explain the kheffiyeh that the sniper was referring to. Damn! Bulat was one the bigger hash traffickers I've met...

Taras couldn't believe the news but somehow things appeared to fall into place.

Bulat never believed in the bullcrap of the communists. No wonder he ended up here! But I would be cautious, this guy would be able to sell his own mother to Lucifer for two bottles of Stolichnaya...

"Ha, yes, of course! Good luck indeed in your endevours! Perhaps an intimidating presentation will work to your benefit, somehow."

He chuckled.

"As for who assigns your tasks, your secondment is to the DRI, and their assignment is to assist the civil government here as an Aid to the Civil Power. As you well know, of course having been at the same meeting as I! Should it be their pleasure to assign you, or indeed me or anyone else to a different task, then ours is not to question why!"

He was full of good humour and cheer, and his formal language was more a product of his upbringing, not sarcasm.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:28, Fri 04 Apr 2008.

*Kelsey snickers a moment*

"We appear to have caught a fish in it"

*Good.. she thinks, we aren't here to fight anyone, damnit.*
*Her voice sounds distinctly relieved*

"A fish that might bring us many, eh?  We don't need to be fightin anyone."

Finally a time to breath some fresh air. Lots of memories were spinning in Taras mind. It was God sent. He could felt that the next combat will be a clash of personalities and a struggle for cooperation rather than bullets.

I have a good feeling here. Bulat and his people will surely cooperate with us. But lets not forget that they are also in a position of power up there. The Sargent is a good damn military guy that survived many battles unscathed and he knows that he commands an strategic position. We must play the card of sharing a common enemy and all the benefits of an alliance. Since they are moving patrols East I believe they try to contain the stickmen And he dully added: The enemy of my enemy is my friend, da?

Then he looked towards Fox. It was time to get things rolling a bit.

I suggest to broadcast an official message from UBC stating who we are and our intentions to pay a visit. With their response I can work out an approach to Bulat to smooth things out...

"Not bad, I have a good feeling about this, and you boss.  Run with it"
*She turns to her radios and adjusts a few settings, humming softly to herself*



*Not missing a beat, she finishes the adjustments*
"Did you want me to script that official broadcast, or wing it?"

At 1315 hours local, Andy was watching the Russian Serzheant make his rounds, accompanied by the female sniper.

A cold rain fell around them, if anything getting harder. Down at the Marina, rain sluiced down the gutters and drainpipes. The spacious lounge where the team was camped out was luxurious, and had a world-class model ship collection. There was hot-and-cold running water. In fact, all the buildings they'd been in either here or at UBC had at least cold running water.

At Horseshoe Bay pair under observation stopped off at the single north checkpoint below them, where the BTR was blocking the Sea-to-Sky highway.

At a certain point, the Serzheant looked at his watch, then took out his compass and took a bearing. Walking over to his horse he pulled out a rolled-up mat wrapped in waterproof plastic. Taking the embroidered mat out of its protective covering he laid it out under the covered area next to the bunker, aligned to the north and south. He took off his web gear and laid his rifle down beside it, then washed his hands and face with water from his canteen.

Facing north away from them, he commenced to... exercise? Execute some kind of ritual? Whatever he was doing, it included some kind of ritual postures like standing straight, then bending forward, touching his head to the mat, standing up again, then sitting with hands on knees, etc. Repeated several times in a slow, careful manner.

The Militia and the sniper seemed unconcerned, ignoring him while having a smoke and trying to keep out of the rain in the parked APC, the bunker and covered area beside it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:18, Sat 05 Apr 2008.

It was afternoon and everybody was tired. Taras decided to have some rest before jumping into broadcasting.

Champlain, I think that will be a good idea to start working in the script. I think that will be better to send it early in the morning. This way we can have some extra time to rest and give them the time as well to make a move.

Again he turned towards the Sargent Fox:

I recommend to rest a bit for now. Later on we can prepare the intructions and equipment for the team to move up North. Early in the morning we can try to make radio contact and get ready to move as soon as possible. I prefer to deal with them taking full advantage of daylight. I think HQ should be reported as well.

Then he spoke to Belanger:

Sir, we still have the opportunity of take advantage of the media and get an interview with the Lieutenant. You know...the brave soldiers fighting against all odds...under inferiority...I'll leave it up to you but a bit of propaganda may work before the rumours spread...

Belanger nodded.

"The news people were agitating to get a story this morning when news of the attack spread around. Remember, one of the Militia got hurt worse than the leftenant. The community will no be happy unless they get some kind of answer, or at least a good story. At least our intrepid reporter will also want to accompany the team to Horseshoe Bay tomorrow morning."

He addressed Ben.

"Lieutenant. Please be prepared for an interview. It should not be long, and I do not thing it will be hostile."

Khandola yawned and stretched.

"I should get back to the detachment as well. It has been interesting, indeed! Sergeant Lee, a word if I may."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:32, Sat 05 Apr 2008.