"And position some rebroadcast monitors"

"Yes, that will allow us to monitor their transmission better than way out here. Good thinking."

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #110):

Tyler chilled out for a while, watching the light rain drizzle down.

There really wasn't a lot going on at the moment where he was. Some of the students and faculty seemed to still be present on campus, but school was definitely out and the place looked half-deserted but intact. Like waiting for the people to return.

A couple people walked by on the far side of the quad and glanced in his direction, but no one came over to talk to him. So far the only people he'd seen were working in the many agricultural fields that were within the secured perimeter.

Feeling bored and a little hungry, he remembered he had been shown the Student Union Building. There was a cafeteria in there where he could get cold food any time, and hot food at meal times. Also, he had been told there was a pub that would be open later on in the day once the "Faculty" (as the people here called themselves) were done with the day's work.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Sat 13 Sept 2008.

Tyler had since sat down on the ground, letting the small amount of rain land on him.  After some time had passed, and everyone he saw took no mind to him, Tyler finally decided it was time to go somewhere else; his head wasn't getting any clearer.

Tyler slowly rose from the concrete, wiping the sand from his bare arms before putting his BDU blouse, and maroon beret back on.  He slung his M1 over his right shoulder with the retrofitted canvas M16 sling, and started strolling down the walk toward his barracks of sorts.  As he got close to the Retsumikan House, he lit a Newport, and took a long drag.

Maybe it's time for a new kind of cigarette...menthols suck all of the sudden.

Back before all this had erupted into his life, Tyler would have surely never walked and smoked simultaneously in uniform while in a garrison environment.  However, these were new times, which called for different measures of military bearing.

Tyler was now outside the building, leaning against it near the front doorway, looking around, trying to see what he could see from this vantage point.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #118):

Everywhere around him where there used to be a lawn was a "truck" garden or planted field, and as greenery had been abundant so were the planted plots.

Ritsumeiken House was a sprawling 3-story U-shaped residence, and there were a couple of other 7-story residences within view to the south. They were surrounded with some of the larger fields planted where wide expanses of lawn used to be.

To the immediate north were some low-rise office and utility-looking buildings, one of which had a smokestack that had a thin plume of smoke coming out the top, probably a generator or incinerator.

A few blocks away to the northeast was where the SUB and the cafeteria/pub was located.

West towards the closest bit of ocean (although UBC was basically surrounded by water on 3 sides) were patches of forest slowly being cleared for firewoood and more fields.

There were people working in the fields in the rain, covered by rain ponchos and hats.

In a parking lot to the east across the street there appeared to be a platoon of militia recruits drilling in the rain, wearing various pieces of surplus camouflage.


OOC: UBC Map; Ritsumeiken House is at the red arrow in the lower mid-left.)

http://www.maps.ubc.ca/PROD/in...etail.php?locat1=745

Note: some of the buildings in this Bird's Eye View are quite new and do not exist in this timeline, but this should give you an idea of the layout.

http://maps.live.com/default.a...~sst.0&encType=1
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:02, Sat 13 Sept 2008.

Tyler laughed to himself as he watched the militia train in the rain.

"Fools can't even stay in step for fuck's sake," he said to himself.

Tyler continued to finish the cigarette, making a mental note to try to find a different brand of tobacco to try at some point in the near future.  He moved from the wall, and sat down upon a small flowerbed nearby, using its raised border like a bench.

After a few minutes, Tyler headed upstairs to his room, and locked his weapon away for safe keeping; he then took a quick shower, and got back into a set of cleaner fatigues he had in his belongings.

Stepping back outside, Tyler put his hands in his pockets, and continued walking about the campus, looking for the local girls, if there were any.  He had not seen membes of the opposite sex for some time, it seemed, nor had he shot the shit with guys his age for a long time, for that matter.

The day was already spent. The rain outside was reckless. Not a chance of going out. No way. The building was a good accomodation. Rooms and halls were showing professional housekeeping and even some luxury furniture was displayed in some of the offices. The members of the team were tired. A long day under the infamous "liquid sunshine" so characteristic of the West Coast. While most of the residents were willing to grab a bite and slowly turn down for the evening, Taras took a moment to have a chat with Clarke:

We make some mistakes today. I'm happy that everything went well and nobody got hurt. The mission was positive and we gather some important bits of intel.

I noticed that, unlike the North Shore previous mission, we didn't prepare this operation in detail and we didn't go through a "patrol order" procedure. As a result we got compromised information on the air. Communications security (CommSec) is very important. We should remember to issue radio codes and also give codes to different locations, rendez-vous , etc. Having a detailed collection of maps we have no excuse. Most of our targets are already known. Radio discipline must be implemented.

Even though I believe that neither the stickmen or the Hell's Angels have any capability to intercept secured comms we have to bare in mind that they are not the only people out there willing to gather intel from us. The Soviet Army may still operative somewhere, we don't know. The US Government and its rebellious military should be also interested in how things develop here in Canada. And who knows what else. We shall take no chances.

Shevchenko got a little bit closer to the Lt. Cmdr. and with a whisper he suggested:

How about a cup of hot tea and a video show? I have a VCR unit in my quarters...

And almost bumps into Kelsey, who is fishing a cigarette from a soft pack.  Female she certainly is, and not even necessarily stocky  (the hell was with that comment?)
"Hey Tyler, how's it treating you here, want to grab a beer or something bud?"

Andy finished the debriefing and hit the showers. Clean, dry and in civvies, he headed for the bar. He needed to clear today's crap with some good old party therapy.

Tyler looked up, seeing the...built...woman standing before him, a smile cracked across her face.  He thought for a moment about whether getting a beer or not.  His plans were quickly laying out on a mental table.  He wanted to catch a good set of people to hang with, non military types, maybe even meet a girl...or two.

This couldn't be done at a bar, at least not with him completely shitfaced.  If would have a beer, it would be that, just a couple of beers.  Heaven knew he and alcohol always mixed it up with wanton disregard for his own well being.

Tyler, disgusted with the Newport, scratched the half smoked cigarette out against the bottom of a window sill, and threw it into a buttcan by the door.

"Terrible, these things," he said jokingly", don't ever start."

He adjusted the way his uniform hung upon his shoulders, and put his hands back in his pockets.

"Honestly, I was thinking of maybe walking the campus, looking for ladies my age.  Perhaps some fellas to party down with, or something...I don't know.  There is still time before the sun goes down."

(Gonna hurt you for those comments.  Kelsey is cute, even if she can probably do more pushups than he can)





"Uh, so I am old, huh?  Well, Mac and I and some others will be in the canteen.  There are a lot of good looking asian girls on campus.. I should know I pulled some as volunteers.  Been a bit since you were around ladies, soldier?"

Tyler shook his head with earnest.

"More than a while.  There aren't that many people back at the island; those that are I consider close family.  I don't see anyone up there in any other way.  Friends, family, nothing more, nothing less."

Tyler took a few steps away, hoping the woman would come along.

"Come on, let's walk, let's talk...that is if you want, though on second thought, I would rather just walk this campus alone for a little bit.  See what I can see.  I will join you all later, I suppose."

With that, the uniformed man took a walk along the sidewalk, looking for someone other than his military counterparts to talk to.

"Suit yourself, I am going to head to the canteen, hell of a lot drier there.  Come on in if you want to join us later"

She walks off and heads to the bar, a small smile hitting her lips as she ponders a few of those assistants, then with a little irritation banishes her thoughts as improper, sliding into a stool next to Mac after ordering a pint

"That Tyler boy.. gonna hurt him if he keeps calling me old."

Tyler looked back, and stopped for a moment, nodding with gratitude.

"Sure thing, I will see you all in a few.  I just want to stretch my legs."

He continued walking in the opposite direction, heading down one of the concrete walks that graced the campus.

Tyler realised that the locals were giving him a lot of trust, letting him wander about without an escort. No one had disarmed him either, but he realised that walking around packing heat was making him stand out.

It was getting later out, people started coming in from the fields. Tyler saw a few girls (one Asian and a couple Europeans) and a guy (from their 20's to their 30's) walking down the sidewalk, farming tools over their shoulders. He smiled at them and they smiled back.

Feeling a little awkward he introduced himself and said he was new to town, as it were. Although they looked a little tired, they were polite and friendly, and he walked with them as they headed back to their dorm.

They were all students from here in Vancouver before the war, although the Asian girl had been from Hong Kong originally (like most Chinese-Canadians). They assumed he was a refugee of some kind from the US Army and he didn't disabuse them of this. He learned that apparently Americans crossing the border to live in Canada for various personal reasons was not uncommon, and so he assumed (correctly) they would not ask too many more questions.

They seemed to think he was exotic-looking in his uniform, but for a bunch of seeming-lefties, they seemed to not hold his military look against him or treat him without either undue awe or suspicion. Apparently Canucks took soldiers far more for granted than Americans!

Mostly they led a pretty simple existence, farming and various work details, doing what was necessary to keep the community going. However, they were very excited about the plans and effort to secure the city and eventually get the country going again. They said that a lot of their friends had joined the UBC Militia and RCMP Detachment, and many were also out in the city conducting a census. Not only was an accurate count of the population necessary but also ID could then be issued.

If there were teams of volunteers out in the city conducting a survey it would explain why the campus was half-deserted. More people were on the streets, heading back to quarters before supper.

Once they got to their building they asked if he would join them for dinner in the SUB cafeteria? First they had to get changed and showered.

---

Meanwhile, Josh (the mole) reported that nothing seemed changed at the Stickmen. Ed had promised to supply some gas masks, enough at least for Cyrus and his entourage and those positions closest to the main Causeway entrance to the park.

Some lookouts had seen the recce team as they turned from W. Georgia onto Denman and then back, but there was no undue concern or plans to lay some kind of ambush. There didn't seem to be any communication between Cyrus and the HAs.

The Stickmen in general continued their preparations to attack the Marina in a couple weeks time, training during the day and keeping watch at night.

HQ on the Island reported that they were looking around for some radar equipment. Also, they were getting a shipment of C7 rifles and ammunition from "abroad" within the next couple weeks. The UBC militia (now 300 strong) would be well-armed in a few weeks time, at least with small arms.

Bulat reported that the refurbishing of the BTR-70 hull was going well. The new diesel engine had less power than the original petrol engine, but would be more reliable and less prone to fires... if they had diesel for it instead of alcohol.

Also, he was organising a recce of his own for that night: a team with a thermal sight to observe the northern end of the park. Although the primary means of intel-gathering for Soviet forces was for special reconnaissance troops (like Bulat) to set an ambush to gather prisoners and documents, Bulat promised that all they would do would observe.

Rod MacArthur continued coordinating with Island HQ to take his trains out of the North Shore via barge. Failing that they could bring them the long way around to the north up to Lillooet and down through Kamloops, but that would have to wait until the forces in Kamloops secured the Fraser Canyon and rail route.

Mayor Farandizeh in West Van had basically secure the north shore, contacting all the people still remaining in the area. Also, they sent word up the Sea-to-Sky highway that conditions were getting back to normal and people up the coast were starting to express interest in moving back to the urban area.

The survey was now complete from UBC all the way to Knight St. and south of Broadway to the river. (Excluding the downtown.) Information was pouring in about who was living where. Approximately 12,000 people lived in the survey area, and crime was generally low.

Not a lot was happening in the area, most people just starting to plant crops.

Block Watch program for the surveyed neighborhoods was going according to plan, with a network of observers feeling information to the RCMP.

There were reports of banditry and highwaymen active all along on the Trans-Canada Highway, Broadway/Lougheed Highway, SW Marine and Kingsway. Gangs of thugs were stopping and robbing travellers or setting checkpoints and charging "tolls".

Lastly, no one seemed to hear from Mac (MacDonald), who was still on his trading mission with his fellow natives from the Musquam Nation. He was late on his evening check-in on the radio.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:01, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Tyler made his way to the peoples' dorms, noting where they were in proximity to his own place.  The girls were quite nice, all four of them actually.  He didn't know who he would be going after just yet, only time would tell.  Tyler was funny that way.  He didn't mind dating girls he had just met, but to get serious with them: that would take time.

He awaited their return, standing outside their dormitory building, his beret slowly receiving small drops of drizzle atop it.  The rain hadn't died down, nor had it gotten much stronger since the hour or so before.  Tyler stepped under the overhang of the front door, nodding or saying hello to the girls stepping out of the building, trying not to look creepy.

After a few minutes of standing, Tyler decided to sit at one of the benches that seemed to supplement nearly every building on campus.  He checked his watch, and leaned back in the bench.

Andy supped his pint and smiled at Kelsey, "He's a Yank, they're not good on diplomacy." he said, "Hell, I'm like a plank myself when it comes to the inter-personal stuff, too much time staring at people through a scope, but even I look suave and sophisticated compared to a Yank."

He pulled a face making him look even more homely than usual, "Or maybe not."

Kelsey laughs and toasts with her pint when it comes, downing almost half in the first shot.  Andrew knew well enough the woman could drink, and that her punches freaking hurt.  Not unusual for someone who has been so concerned about physical fitness all her life, and military for a good bit of her adult life.

"I'll at least agree that you are doing better than one particular Yank, at the least." She seems to ponder a little, taking another sip of her beer  "So what are the girls like, the Yank girls?  Are they as self absorbed?"

A few more girls stepped out from the dorms while Tyler waited.  He figured he would keep up the charm.

"Hey there," he said to them with a big smile.

"I am pretty new here.  Been here for less than a day.  I am waiting for some friends who are getting ready to go do eat.  What do girls such as yourselves do around here?  I have no idea where to go."

He figured they would instantly recognize the American accent if they themselves weren't American.  If that wasn't it, the small American flag on the right shoulder of his BDUs would definitely do it.  His BDUs were a cleaner set that he had set aside for occasions such as these.  Times when he would be in some sort of garrison environment.  His name tapes were still quite new, the quaint last name "HOPE" gracing his right side of the BDU top.  The creases in his uniform had surprisingly held their place along the center of his pants and blouse.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:44, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Clarke nodded, not pleased either at the lack of preparedness for the recce.  It was her responsibility, after all.  "I suppose commanding radar transmissions doesn't do a lot to prepare you for setting up patrols.  Tea and a movie would be lovely.  I'd like to make sure that today's faux pas are not repeated.  At least no one was hurt, we gathered good intel and have plans for future activity."

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #133):

The reception from the girls was immediate and warm. They introduced themselves as Paula and Michelle.

"Hi! What's your name? Where are you from, what brings you here?"

In the course of the short but friendly conversation while he waited, he found out that most of the people were "stay-behinds" from when the city was evacuated before and after the nuclear attacks. The university had been designated a "recovery node" for post-attack reconstruction efforts, and so had extensive stocks of certain materials. But few weapons.

Shortly a group of a dozen young men and women gathered around them (appearances tending towards beards, long hair, sorta hippies). The conversation still tended towards the light and casual, and no one seemed to resent his being a soldier. More like they didn't really know what it meant and so by unspoken mutual consent didn't pump Tyler too hard for information.

The team members headed out for dinner and some relaxation after, as the rain finally let off as the sun began to set.

That last bit worried Clarke.  Their murder victim had been a native.  She asked Alain if he could get pictures of her to their contacts to see if anyone recognized her.  Also, hadn't the newswoman gone as well?  Had she checked in with her people?  It was bad that Mac hadn't checked in.  It seemed very unlike him to miss check in.

The lack of news from the native fellow didn't bother much Taras but he felt uneasy about the tardiness. It was not unusual to get late reports from forward deployed elements in recce mission in "indian territory" (pun intended). Before turning into the videotheque for some light entertainment he made a quick phone call to the RCMP ops centre and requested the operator to phone the reservation asking for the man and also give a 30 minutes grace period before activating a searching party. Initially composed by regular RCMP patrol units.

As the receiver was finally put down in the cradle the water started a vigorous boiling. The tea will be served soon.

It wouldn't be bad to have a samovar in this room...

Kelsey is into a second beer soon enough, likely to get out of her ration soon, even if it is homebrew.  She wasn't aware Mac (the original?) was missing, or really that he had gone out on a mission.  Checking on his people didn't sound like a mission anyway.  She pauses though and looks around.

"Anyone seen Mac part two, the revenge?"

As the sun sank into the sea (well, really, behind the hulking mountains of Vancouver Island) is got a little cooler.

Before dinner, CPL Champlain checked in on the LAV. Everything was going according to schedule on the repairs, three more days at most for the complete overhaul. SGT Fox had been of great help, as even his scant technical knowledge was of considerable worth.

The Signals element was also in good shape, having been borrowed by Belanger to go out into the neighborhoods near UBC, stringing up telephone wire for the Block Watch to use.

Andy, the Master Sniper, checked in on his element. They had spent the day shooting, overseen by CPL Lee and the RCMP detachment's sharpshooter. A police sharpshooter was a far cry from a trained sniper in the many ways of fieldcraft, camouflage, and stalking the enemy. But he knew a thing or two about operating in an urban environment an Army sniper didn't, and could still teach them everything they needed to know about the craft of marksmaship.

Tyler, Ed's son, had spent his evening so far hanging out with the civilian inhabitants of the little enclave. He found the people interested in him, but not too prying.

After dinner the team gathered for a quick discussion on upcoming events before breaking up. Someone found Tyler and shepherded him to the lounge where they were having a beer, so that he was in the loop.

It was also shared that the census-takers had heard of a small weekly "farmer's market" held on Granville Island, a small quasi-islet in False Creek. Before the war it had been a shipyard-industrial area turned (with Federal development money) into a retail shopping and restaurant district. It had still retained it's maritime and industrial character, with the condos, fresh fish market and retail developments sharing space with a concrete plant and marinas.

This was not a permanent or well-organised market as the (supposedly Angel-run) Free Market on Annacis Island. (Annacis Island before the war had been wholly industrial, and it was possible that the small foundry there was a source of the slight rise in river temperature.)

So far, the CBC news team that had gone with them downtown had gone into the studio and put some of the footage they'd got on tape on the short evening news program. The Bikers were ommitted and instead shots showed Andy testing the rain water, and the empty desolate steel-and-glass towers of the downtown.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:54, Tue 16 Sept 2008.