The small convoy turned right, avoiding the Cambie bridge. They traveled down Broadway and then turned left on Main.

They passed under the Sktrain tracks at the Main St./Science World station on Terminal. Off to the left at the end of False Creek was Science World, a somewhat large geodesic dome that had once been lit up like a big soccer ball, now dark. Passing under the elevated concrete tracks and past infamous skid row hangouts like the Cobalt and Ivanhoe Hotels (once upon a time their ground-floor pubs had been great places to score stolen goods or drugs), then up the on-ramp to the Dunsmuir Viaduct leading 1-way into the downtown (Georgia being outbound only).

The Dunsmuir and Georgia Viaducts were kind of odd relics of the automobile age. They were built in the 60's to connect a proposed American-style superhighway from the suburbs south and east to the downtown. That superhighway was killed by proponents of a more "liveable" city, and although the suburbs would forever after suffer traffic congestions (and something like Interstates never caught on) the city centre did indeed remain highly liveable. Still, these two multi-lane concrete bridges "from nowhere to nowhere" remained standing.

Dunsmuir Viaduct led between the twin stadiums of BC Place and the newer GM Place. BC Place was once the world's largest free-standing farbic-domed structure, although the fabric was long-deflated and tattered. Both had been designated relocation points, and much signage to that effect still remained nailed up and painted-on in the surrounding blocks. ("INDIVIDUALS REQUIRING MEDICAL ATTENTION PLEASE HAVE BC MEDICAL CARDS HANDY ... ", "ALL EVACUEES PLEASE PROCEED TO DESIGNATED PICKUP AREAS ..." and so on.)

They rolled into the downtown proper.

As per the briefing by Clarke, the main objective was a recce of the entry and exit points to downtown, then the route to and from the Park, basically infiltration and exfiltration. Also, to survey buildings and damage, the population, their possible allegiences, and so on. Lastly, of course, an important part of the plan was to show people the government was interested in their welfare, to "show the flag" in a literal sense.

So far, Dunsmuir seemed clear enough of debris and abandoned vehicles, at least one lane, sometimes two. They stopped at the corner of Granville. If they continued forards, they would pass the corner of Dunsmuir and Howe, which was where Brandi's and the Bikers' downtown stronghold was located.

The Mounties got out of the car, looking around. The Doctor and Paramedic exited as well. The former business/commercial district seemed deserted. The heavy rain that was threatening before broke with a vengeance.

In the van, Kelsey got into the back and turned on the scanner. No radio traffic in  the area, yet, although she was just getting started. Rain pounded on the metal roof of the van's cabin. The personnel got out their rain gear, the police in neon yellow slickers, the medical personnel in red and orange Gore-Tex jackets.

A few minutes later, they noticed movement from up the street by the old Hudson's Bay Company department store. This would make sense if it were "Undergrounders", as the Bay had a Skytrain station accessing the transit tunnels under the downtown. The Skytrain tunnels plus connecting corridors gave access to the other underground shopping malls in the area (Pacific Centre, Burrard Centre, Harbour Centre, Hyatt Centre, even Sinclair Centre).

As Kelsey (still inside the van) and the others were discussing how to entice people to come to them, one Mountie saw a young man with an arm in a sling watching them from the shadows of one of the office buildings above Pacific Centre.

Runoff from the rain coursed down the middle of Granville.

There was a long rumble from what sounded like thunder, until they realised it was the rumble of un-muffled motorcycle engines. It echoed through the towers of downtown, making it initially hard to pinpoint the direction, but within a minute they saw the headlights of at least a dozen big Harleys reflecting off the wet pavement to the west, coming from the direction of Brandie's.

The bikers approached slowly within a block to the west of them on Dunsmuir (going the wrong way on the wide 4-lane 1-way street), then rolled to a stop. A couple peeled off both to the north and south, but the remainder just sat there a block away, looking at them (a couple with binoculars) and presumably talking to each other. If they were armed under the wet riding leathers it was hard to tell in the rain, although at least a couple had either rifles or shotguns in scabbards in front or behind the seats (but not in their hands).

MCrae watched the bikers pull up in front of him. He flicked his head slightly to shake the drips of rain from his hood and watched them intently. He deliberately left his C4 on it's sling, his hands empty but ready to act if needed. He keyed his throat mic and said, "Kel, we've got company, let the Boss know."

He looked over at the convoy commander and said, "Would you like me to go and make contact with our visitors? I'd suggest watching our flanks too, they've sent out riders on both and no doubt they have reserves."
He kept the bikers under observation, waiting for his superior's answer.

Kelsey gets on the radio to Clarke.

"Green Six, this is Green One, Corner of Dunsmuir and Granvile.  We have contact with pig riders, about one two total.  Rain heavy.  Advise?"
*She repeats, and keeps scanning for radio transmissions with the other device, getting ready to get the car's loudspeakers online*

"OK, Mac, waiting on reply... we should be able to broadcast via speaker too, if you want."

"Geen one this is green six.  Proceed with caution, but find out what they want.  Green one out."

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #4):

"Mac, you got permission to Parley.. we'll cover you and keep the radio open"

"Wilco." Andy replied through the relay. His mouth was dry looking at the odds. From here, he could have downed five or six of them with the C4 before any could even go for a gun. Up close and personal would be another matter. Still, he frowned, that was what they paid him the big bucks for, and he had volunteered reckoning that his mix of military surplus and civilian gear would be less of a red rag to a bull than the RMCP get up and "shoot me" yellow rain slickers, "Keep everyone else back Kel, get someone watching our flanks."

He kept his hands down by his waist, obviously empty but also obviously not in a surrender pose. Andy started to close the gap, waiting for a reaction from the bikers.

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #6):

Clarke would have given anything for some kind of visual on what was actually going on and what they were up against.  Still, these were good people and either you trusted their judgment and let them work or you didn't get much done.

The rain pounded down onto the pavement, splashing from rooftops and the mostly intact glass windows, bouncing off the steel roofs of abandoned vehicles.

Under Kelsey's direction one rain-slickered Mountie grabbed a C8 carbine from the cruiser, charged it, and turned to cover Granville to the south, the other pumped a shell into the chamber of his shotgun and covered the north. The intersection itself was clear, so they moved off to the corner where there was cover behind stalled cars. (Unlike the movies where car doors were adequate cover, they got down low, taking cover behind the engine blocks.) Dr. Pang and the paramedic covered the rear (east) down Dunsmuir.

Unmuffled motorcycle engines roared and echoed through the glass and steel canyons, all around them. They could hear the outriders circling around them perhaps a block to the north and south, although not in sight.

The remaining group just sat there waiting in the rain, neither approaching nor retreating. Some looked scruffy: big bellies, long scraggly beards and greying hair (now soaking wet), sunglasses or riding goggles, bandannas tied pirate-style over their heads and "drive-on rags" tied around necks and over their mouths to keep off the rain (not the stereotypical German WWII helmets). Beaten leather jackets and chaps over jeans. Others were younger, clean-shaved, short hair, fit and trim, wearing camouflage BDUs under their newer-looking leather, some wearing US-style Kevlar helmets and goggles.

---

It had been a royal bitch, but finally Tyler and his dad managed to wrangle the ATV on-shore opposite Deadman's Island, by the Bayshore Hotel. He could have more easily taken the boat all the way to the RV point at the marina on Burrard Inlet, but he'd be stuck out there without his own transport. This way, he had options, even if he had to traverse the downtown to get out to where the marina was located.

The Suzuki King Quad's 500cc engine purred and the knobby off-road tires sang on the wet pavement, crunching over the odd spray of shattered safety glass on the pavement. It was convenient to get around this way; few stalls could block him and he could easily get around debris.

As the nuclear strikes had hit the refineries and tank farms inland to the east, the city centre on the water wasn't really destroyed, just slightly singed and mostly abandoned.

Mostly, but not completely. There were squatters scattered through the various buildings of the downtown, and he thought he caught sight of one looking out a window a few stories above him as he passed. A few businesses still operated, even a nightclub or two.

There were also the bikers. They could hear their unmuffled Hawgs echoing through the buildings day or night (mostly day). The Hells Angels operated one of the premier entertainment establishments in the downtown, "Brandie's". Although the survivalists weren't completely confined to their island, when they did go ashore to trade with merchants like that guy "Shepherd" they stayed away from the bikers and in turn the bikers didn't interfere with them.

Heading southwards down Howe, Tyler saw 2 bikers riding north towards him a couple blocks away, headlights reflecting off the rain-slicked surface. They turned east (one fishtailing around the corner) then sped up, apparently without seeing him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:53, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #8):

"Green one this is green six.  What is your situation?  Do you anticipate needing back-up?"  To Taras and Belanger, she noted, "Sounds like the recce found a group of bikers.  We'd better have a response team on stand-by in case they need back-up.  They are attempting contact."

Agreed Clarke. Lets get ready a standby element here and alert the RCMP units conducting their daily duties of the census to be prepared also, they should be closer to the area. This way we can get quick and enough back-up.

While Belanger appeared to be using his own personal radio to alert the units Taras went back to the maps and paperwork. It was a little bit frustrating not being able to be in the front line this time but he was confident of the professional attitude and skills of the people involved. A hand-picked collection of individuals embarked in a dangerous recce mission. He wanted to make sure that enough response could be granted and therefore the suggestion of alerting the fielded units.

Now his thoughts went somewhere else. He realised that the intel unit needed more and more information beyond the current limits of influence of the government. There was a need to get first hand and reliable information about what was happening across the border. A matter of discussion with Clarke and Ms Kwan.

Right after Belanger came back, Shevchenko exposed some issues:

We are going to need reliable information about what's cooking in the USA. If the current government is illegal and therefore not recognised by Canada then we have a double problem. I suggest to seal the border to avoid the flux of illegals, weapons, drugs, etc. A Border Guard Unit should be created with RCMP and militia and basically control the access to the country. Commerce should be taxed, limited to individuals enterprises registered in the country and refugee cases taken in individual cases. This will bring the need for visas. Control of the border is paramount to the progress of reconstruction in the country.

Shuffling through papers Sgt Shevchenko was trying to present an outlook of the modus vivendi in the Lower Mainland.

Seems that the economic survey section of the IRON program reflects that this area of the Province is in lack of a heavy industry and people are surviving with economies of very low impact. There is some trade and basic economic activities involving local fishing, household agriculture and farming. Seems that looting helped to survive throughout the hard times a lot. The evacuation of the city presented the remaining citizens with ample opportunity to provide themshelves with goods such as in clothing and mostly long term storage canned food and furniture, appliances, etc.

Obviously this cannot continue for ever. The economy must shift towards an economic model that can suit the city. As I see it, seems that Vancouver was almost a "resort city". It could be difficult to implement but we need an economic mode to bring back life, jobs, production and wealth. While private initiative is most welcome I believe the government that we represent should start thinking in some serious program. The re-activation of the railway is a great move. Now we should look into create an industrial base to revamp the economy. This will bring hope to the locals and will keep the criminal elements from spreading. Then there is the question with the returning people. As soon as peace, security and basic economy is restored we may expect and influx of returning people. We have to be ready to deal with this situation as well. We need green light from above to send spies to the US, by the way...

The situation was getting under control very slowly but firmly. Most of the people living in the City of Vancouver and the North Shore were already registered and therefore ready to make their voices heard in the political future of the Lower Mainland. Government services were getting available to them and introduced primarily by the RCMP patrols and voluntary militia members that conducted the survey. A ray of hope amid the squalor was growing. The Stanley Park tumor was being surrounded, carefully inspected under the microscope and ready for invasive surgery. This will complete a primary phase of reconstruction that will quickly expand to neighbouring communities as in osmotic pressure. The final goal will represent the referendum thst will legitimate the current government and open the doors to democratic elections. The battle for the numbers was shifting to a positive flow. A good deal of diplomacy laying ahead. The Hell's Angels represented a serious problem. Not a military problem and certainly an above average Law Enforcement issue. Taras already was thinking about solutions...

Andy stopped about twenty feet away from the group of bikers, he paused a moment to pull his hood down and expose all of his face and head. He smiled pleasantly and said, "Hi, how can we help you?"

*Kelsey starts dispensing the element with them, keeping in mind those bikers did do a little splitting up themselves.  Out of the vehicles and covering their flanks and rear, she herself will belly down with her C4 ready to start icing bikers to cover Mac if need*
"Roger that Mac, keep a grenade handy, they love those bikes."
*She talks to the folks as she gets them around*
"Time to get wet, but I'll buy the warmup beer, now move"

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #11):

As their cover was a HAZMAT team, Kelsey and Andy were wearing white hooded coveralls, with full-face filter masks and detection equipment handy.

Mindful of the supposedly covert nature of their reconnaissance, Kelsey made sure to keep her C8 Carbine from direct view of the bikers as she lay in the cold runoff.

The paramedic and doctor were already keeping an eye on the rear. "Hey, we got a van coming down Dunsmuir behind us!"

Kelsey checked the rear and saw, several blocks to the rear, the CBC van driving cautiously towards them through the pounding rain, wipers slapping frantically. They were supposed to have accompanied the team, but had been delayed by van trouble. Finally, they had caught up with Kelsey and the others.

"Hi, how can we help you?"

The bikers laughed loudly at this, a rough ugly sound. It complimented the feral sounds of the idling machines underneath them.

Some of them were talking with the leader, one or two of the more vicious-looking ones getting pretty excited. Andy had a hard time reading their lips at an off-angle, but he imagined they were begging for permission to ride him down.

Looking closely, he could see they were armed with a variety of pistols, still holstered, and a few civilian rifles and shotguns. Plus knives, even a couple swords and maces/clubs. Fortunately, none of them had drawn a weapon, yet. Possibly waiting for the leader's orders.

The leader, a huge bearded red-haired man wearing fringed leathers, answered. "Hey man, You're blockin' the fuckin' road! Better move aside. Don't want there to be no... traffic accident. Shit happens and you become a statistic when you stand in the middle of the fuckin' road!"

His men laughed at that, grinning now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:36, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #13):

*Kelsey sucks on her teeth and keys her mic*

"Looking bad folks, this might turn into a firefight fast.  Welcome Stragglers, watch out for flanking and get stopped and ready to fight.  These bikers are used to doing whatever they want, and we might have to put them on ice."

*She was no cop, she was a combat vet, the thought that these people did what they wanted to people without automatic weapons, and visions of that woman's face in the park steeled her to give these men lead poisoning if needed*

"On you Mac."

Andy smiled again and chuckled as he wiped the rain drops from his HAZMAT mask that he held easily in his left hand, "That's good advice, thanks. Don't want to be becoming a statistic, do I? Anyway, I thought you might have stopped there to find out what we were doing, that's why I came up here, to fill you in on things."

Andy paused and looked at the chem detector. He tutted and frowned, "Don't nobody get jumpy a minute," he said, "I'm using two fingers to get my smokes."

Andy pulled out his pack and lit one up. he inhaled deeply and blew smoke out with some satisfaction, he looked for the biker who eyed him the most greedily and threw the rest of the pack toward him, "Share them out, pal, I've plenty more at base," inwardly he winced, it was his last pack, he glanced at the dials again and winced theatrically, "but if you want my advice, ignore the health warnings and smoke em quick,especially if you're coming down here."

He looked at the leader again, "It's OK, Boss, I got your message, I'll get the team to pull to one side and you can roar down the road to your heart's content. Do yourselves a favour though, you see the drains about half way down? Breathe deep before you pass them and hold your breath until you're round the corner. If your piss is a different colour tonight, it's time to find religion."

He took another deep drag and flicked the half smoked cigarette away. Damn, he hated this liaison shit, it'd have been a lot easier to have shot these cocky shits from afar. Still, the aim was to rebuild, not destroy. He looked at these sorry excuses for humanity, too bad...

He smiled once more and said, "Well, you all make the most of the day now, life's for living or so they used to say."

He turned slowly making a show of putting his mask back on, securing his hood and checking the sensors and shaking his head. Over his mic he sub-vocalised, "Kel, get one of the guys to stand in the gutter and start yelling about contamination and ask the Doc to get them into the ambulance as if it's a really big thing. I hope we can bluff these guys but they might be too smart or just too damn macho. Be ready for anything, if the guy can scream about not letting it get to his balls, that might get through."
He began to slowly walk back, half expecting a bullet, half expecting the Hog Boss to call him back.

Tyler pressed the kill switch near the throttle, and let the ATV quietly coast into a dark underground parking garage just one level below the street.  He squeezed the brakes gently, and put the headlight onto the Bright function, scanning the area slightly by swaying the bike back and forth until stopping near an abandoned elevator protruding from the main foundation of the building.

Quickly, Tyler took off his Kevlar helmet, and threw on an olive drab cravat to replace it, tying it in the rear.  Taking no chances, and with an equal quickness, Tyler took off his tactical vest to get on the Kevlar vest.  That done, he put the Tacvest back on, and adjusted it to his liking.  He took a moment to scan the area with his penlight before turning off the Bright function on the headlight, bringing it down to a normal ray of illumination.

He slapped the combination lock into the front wheel fork lock, disallowing anyone from moving the bike any way but in a circle.  After turning off the headlight, he threw his ruck sack, and helmet into one of the stowage hatches after grabbing a pack of Newports, and the bullhorn with 550 cord sling attached; he grabbed his gas mask, two smoke grenades, one frag, and a CN grenade.  He may need these, he mused.  Tyler closed up both stowage bins, and placed the locks on them.  Satisfied that the area was secure(for now), Tyler was ready to rock with his CAR-15 on Safe, with a round chambered, and 6 other full 30 round mags.

With one last look, he quickly moved up the exit ramp to the street, and made his way toward the ruckus near the intersection of Howe and W Pender.  He skirted the sidewalk amongst high profile vehicles that had since been abandoned, his rifle at the low ready, and his front squared off toward the possible contacts.

This could get ugly.

He made a smoke grenade, and the CN grenade readily available, each time respectively as he paused to take a knee, and scan ahead every 10 or so meters.  He took a left at Hastings, and moved briskly across the street to a parking area between the buildings ahead.  There was now a building between he and the two bikers who had rode ahead.  He took a knee, gave himself a few seconds to slow his breathing, and took a drink of water before creeping silently forward with his CAR-15 at the leveled high ready, stopping near an overhang covered sidewalk between two buildings.  A few more yards past that, and he would be on West Pender Street.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

The CBC van pulled up behind them.

A block away on either side of them, the pairs of outriders pulled up, one pair stationed a block to their north at the corner of West Pender and Granville, the other pair a block to the south at the corner of West Georgia and Granville.

Tricia and Curtis (her cameraman) got out. Curtis aimed a plastic-covered camera at the scene from behind, neatly using the telephoto lens to frame the two opposing groups.

One of the bikers expertly caught the tossed pack of cigarettes, then handed them over to the leader. He looked hard at Andy, then at the drains, now overflowing. His men were looking a little uneasy, some of the piss and vinegar leaking away.

"All right, sounds good. Don't want to get in your way." He conferred with his men for a little bit. He also looked at the TV camera pointed in his direction.

"Yo, stop by Brandie's when you're done. Tell 'em I sent ya. Drinks for you and your friends are on the Bear."

With a rumble and roar of engines, the bikes started off, first one, then the others turning north along Howe.

---

The underground parkade had been incredibly filthy. Years of no maintenance had left a thick carpet of grey concrete dust on everything, including abandoned vehicles. The wet tires quickly picked up a layer of light grey mud and dust, and the ATV had left very noticeable tracks on the way in, and his boots made clear prints on the way out.

Tyler made it out unseen into the rainy streets and alleys. The sip of water was welcome, washing out the dead gritty taste of the dust, and the rain quickly washed off his boots and clothing.

The two bikers had passed by him going east on West Pender, then slowed to stop at the corner of West Pender and Granville by the corner of the sidewalk, where they could look at something or someone parked up Granville from them.

He made his may across the street from them on West Pender, stopping about halfway down the block, behind some rain-filled empty planters in a small plaza just outside a Kinkos store with smashed windows, at the base of an office building. Across W. Pender was a boarded-up entrance to Pacific Centre Mall (which, unknown to him, stretched under 3 whole city blocks southwards).

With the rain and the loud rumble of their idling engines, Tyler knew he could practically walk up behind them if he wanted to without being noticed.

Suddenly, the rumbling got louder behind him. More bikes were coming, following their brethren up Howe to turn right on W. Pender.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:43, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

Getting used to the new desk for Taras was somehow difficult. The spartan conditions offered by the Red Army were years light behind the modern comforts of an office in the heart of a modern and dynamic institution like the University of British Columbia. The place was not exactly roomy but the chairs were quite ergonomic and with a contemporary flair. The generous amount of drawers with and without locks offered some headache. It was difficult task to start arranging files and paperwork and also determine the importance of the information to classify them.

In such search is where Sgt. Shevchenko came across with a Bible. At first he thought that somebody was trying to play a practical joke with an ex communist Officer. If so, they would rather be surprised about the true nature of the ukrainian. A man born and raised in the Orthodox tradition he was not unaware of such a book and its message:

"... In the fourth book of Moses we are told how God ordered Moses to send forth men into the land of Canaan and bring back intelligence. Twelve were chosen, one from each of the tribes, and one was even given a false name-Joshua, who was Hosea, son of Noon-entirely according to the practice of intelligence agencies. And off they went to gather reports about the giants in Canaanand the agricultural policies of this land of milk and honey..."

Surprisingly enough, it seemed that history repeated even after the Apocalypsis. A greek name meening "lifting of the veil" or probably a shortening of the phrase "apokalupsis eschaton" or "revelation at the end of the age". In any case the very last book of the New Testament. A most intriguing collection of chapters full of future imagery and mystical symbolism.

Belanger. We are going to need reports from the North Shore regarding the checkpoint that they have North of Horseshoe Bay. They control the inbound traffic. Lets see what they had in the last three weeks or so. We are going to need this update in a weekly basis. Also weekly reports on the Block Watch programs will be necessary to pinpoint the focus of criminal activity and shift resources as needed.

Looking over his left shoulder he stared at the Lower Mainland map hanging on the wall. The operational picture was sprinkled with an assortment of colorful pins indicating this or that. The Southern map was almost a big interrogation sign in this spread.

I hope the visit to the market in that tiny island will bring some results. I am hopeful with the City of New Westminster. We are gaining precious momentum and I believe that serious high talks can be set with the authorities there. This should be an strategic asset before we start closing in the airport and its more troublesome inhabitants. I wonder if we can establish at some point where are the community of individuals that are trading down South and what type of transaction they conduct.

Most of the questions presented by Taras were scribbled in a notepad of reference before being translated into operational tasks and orders and moved down the chain  for the RCMP and militia rank and file. A last lightning from the brainstorm was directed to his superior:

Boss...I was thinking about Ed the survivalist and his people. We can extend our spectrum of operations if his group is willing to cooperate with us beyond the Stanley Park takeover. They could be our lifeline with the USA. If they are willing to organise a movement here in Canada towards the establishment of a demacratic form of Government down South we can support them directing like minded refugees and we can obtain first hand accounts of the political situation. So far the current Government is not being recognised and therefore we cannot count with diplomatic relations to strength the border in both sides. We can offer some inmunity here but is in the benefit of both countries to restore normal democratic institutions. In this case I believe our Government should be protective of the Civil Rights that we stand for. And there is the military threat that they still represent...

The personal radios were finely tuned in the current frequency of the RCMP and everybody was anxious to hear news from downtown. The rain outside didn't help much to cheer the small crowd in the building. Taras put the bible in the drawer and closed it with a swift move using the right kneecap. God help us...

In reply to Taras Vladimirovich Shevchenko (msg #18):

Clarke sat by the radio, waiting to hear from Kelsey and chewing on her lip.  She wished she knew what was happening out there with her people.  She was also waiting for a report as to how the organization of a response team was going.  As she waited, she spoke momentarily with Taras and Belanger.

"We really need more information on the HA.  What their organization is like, what makes them tick, what kind of internal conflicts may be going on.  Within the chapter itself there may be factions.  There may be individuals who are members because they feel they have no where else to go.  In that they are not so different from the Stick Men.  I feel we need to deal with Stanley Park.  What we do, how we deal with the people there will set a precedent for what will follow after.

If we set the right precedent that will do a lot of our future work for us and can even help as a recruitment tool.  For instance, if Josh continues to work for us rather than getting thrown in the slammer.  We throw the book at Cyrus and those who tortured others to death for their own pleasure.  Prosecute the others who went along willingly but perhaps were not as culpable.  Anyone else we will find a way to integrate back into the populace.

That sets a precedent.  If you're a bad egg, we will send you to jail.  If you are a good person in a bad situation, we will take you in.  If you are in the middle, we will give you a chance to start over.

*Kelsey slowly rises and thumbs her rifle onto Safe, slipping back into the van and keying up the radio*

"Green 6, this is Green 1.  Green 1 Actual bluffed em out, we are in condition green.  Carrying on."

*She racks her rifle near her (figuring they would install holders) and after getting a little dry she taps out and lights up a Dumarier, offering one to Mac when he gets back in*

"Hey, good work there, could have been nasty, care for a dry smoke now?"

*She smirks a little and hands him the pack*

"Keep it, I got plenty.. sides, I prefer Players anyways"

*The difference being, Kel really did have plenty, with her supply connections the woman never did seem to run out of smokes.*
This message was last edited by the player at 11:37, Thu 21 Aug 2008.

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg #20):

"Green one this is green six.  Acknowledged, you are continuing recce.  Please note any blocked roads or other obstructions.  Will debrief when you return.  Green six out."  Clarke passed on to Belanger that the recce team was reporting the emergency was over and they were continuing with their mission.  She suggested letting the response teams continue with preparation.  They could treat this one as an exercise.  Besides, if the situation degraded again they'd be ready for it.

Andy sat down, puffed out his cheeks and too the smoke thankfully, "Once, two years ago I dropped sixteen crazies charging me, got the last two with my rifle butt. Those guys were a lot scarier. Still, at least I got invited for a drink. Maybe Bear fancies me, I might have to borrow your kilt to visit. We should stay alert though, they were bright enough to understand the bluff and take it, they'll be bright enough to keep us under obs. Looks like I'll need to "decontaminate" a few drains."

Tyler watched the men by the bikes for a moment, seeing if they would do anything other than what they were doing right now.  He crept out slightly, scanning the entire street both ways, trying to spot something unusual in the large labyrinth of buildings, and abandoned vehicles.  He wanted a route of higher profile vehicles to dart amongst to get across the street.  A large glass structure was across the way, boarded up, but with a few openings here and there that may be big enough for a man to get through.

As he toiled over the observations, loud bikes could be heard coming closer.  Judging by the sound, Tyler only had about 30 seconds at the most to move.  Quickly he rationalized the risk of hauling ass across the street.  If more bikes showed up, he would most likely have to play a waiting game that he didn't want to play.  It was no fun, and these days, his patience ran thin.

With that, he gave the idling bikes, and idle bikers one last look before duck walking low behind a car, and giving his best 3 to 5 second rush across the open lane between the abandoned vehicles, stopping slightly as he rounded a delivery truck.  As the loud sound of bikes got closer, Tyler slung his CAR 15, and attempted to peak inside the glass structure, using his hands to wipe off the rain and soot covered window.

*Kelsey grunts in a most unladylike fashion, blows some smoke out and grins*  "I'll be in the van, knock yourself out"  She laughs and shakes her head  "You know, most of the people we fought in the war were not there because they enjoyed killing, or pushing people around, professional soldiers, you know?  Totally different breed than those scum.  The fall of society is a boon to them, and the restoration of normalacy is a bane.  We come back here it will have to be by sneak, or by force, and object lessons will likely have to be made, and displayed, to get their attention." She bangs her hands on the steering wheel "Fuck all, why do the worst scum have to survive like cockroaches?"

In reply to Taras Vladimirovich Shevchenko (msg #18):

"That is a good idea, I will make sure to get that information from Bulat. And pass on the recce by thermal viewer."

"Regarding the political situation down in the 'States, there is a legal government, it's just that its writ doesn't extend into the Pacific Northwest. That territory is still held by renegade military."

Of course, that was merely one interpretation of the uncertain political situation in the USA. From the military's point of view, they were simply refusing to recognise the civil government's authority due to irregularities in the way it was constituted. That was, until a proper census was organised and elections were held. The civilian government had in fact recently taken such a census and held elections according to the Constitution in its area of control, but the military hadn't quite gotten around to doing that itself... yet.

"Be that as it may, we should get some kind of clarity from the US government how they want us to handle their citizens, especially armed ones. Also, we may start seeing wholesale desertions of military units across the border. Something for Ottawa to get on, I guess, and we can ask them."

Belanger thought about Clarke's input.

"We've had success in gaining an intelligence source in the Stickmen's organisation. Why not think of doing the same with the Hells?"

"Bikers and soldiers often get along quite well. They have a paramilitary structure, a code of honour and behaviour (of sorts), the feeling of being apart from (if not actually above) civilian society and being a part of a "band of brothers"; and the acceptance of violence (although their brawling fighting style and criminal terrorising of the weak are worlds apart from true soldiers). The HAs have always made a point of cultivating contacts in the military to supply them with weapons (at least until the 80's) and Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs in general are always interested in recruiting military personnel into their ranks because of their training and experience."

Getting a reaction team together took very little time for Lee.

CPL Lee was in the middle of tactical training for members of the RCMP detachment, and they were thus already armed and equipped for action.

She also contacted SGT Fox, who was training members of the UBC militia, and together they were able to put together a well-armed scratch force of 30. Within a few minutes transport was brought up and the whole force kept on standby.

Within 5 minutes of the alert, Fox contacted Clarke.

"Commander, we have a reaction team of 30 armed and ready to go. Automatic weapons, plus the C6 GPMG and the RPG-7. We only have light-skinned vehicles at the moment."

Tyler made it across the street without being seen. The bikers at the corner of Granville and W. Pender had their backs to him, and couldn't hear him over the rain and the rumbling idle of their unmuffled bikes.

It was obvious when he reached the doors to the building that people were using the entrance on a regular basis. Some of the plywood had been pried away to allow access. It was almost impossible to see anything inside through the flithy glass, which where intact was smoked and where it was gone was boarded and taped up. Still, the sign above the entry said "Pacific Centre", which was a good clue it was a shopping mall of some kind.

Several bikes were starting to round the corner from Howe onto W. Pender behind him. Tyler was probably pretty hard to see in the darkness under the overhanging building, and there was piles of trash like broken furniture and shelving units, and quite a lot of non-functioning computer components (monitors, towers, keyboads) piled around and just outside the doors.

---

Up the street in the HAZMAT van parked in the intersection of Granville and Dunsmuir, Kelsey shared a smoke with Andy and gave a SITREP to the HQ out at the Uni.

The CBC team did some filming of the deserted streets around them.

Dr Pang, a short middle-aged balding asian man, came up and knocked on the window of the van. Rain streamed off the hood of his long Gore-Tex ambulance service jacket.

"Are we going to stay here long? I think I see some people watching us in the Hudson's Bay building, about a half-block down the street. Maybe we should go meet them?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:28, Fri 22 Aug 2008.

Andy said to Kel, "We survived too, and we're supposed to be the good guys. Thanks for the smoke."

He heard the Doc's question and pinched out the coal, saving the rest til later, "That's a good point Doc, I'll get into the Noddy suit and take some samples from the drains, I'll have to carry the bluff through in case we're under OBs. If your people can help, we'll be quick but make it look realistic. Then we can meet those people. Is that OK, Sir?"

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #29):

Green one this is green six.  We have a reaction team on standby.  What is your situation?  We can have them to your location in one-five mikes.

To Lee and her team, "For now have them keep the engines warm.  I think the recce team is OK but you never know when things might go south."

Tyler could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up as more bikes appeared in the area.  He turned slightly, noting that all the piles of junk set up in a seemingly defensive way around the entrance to this place were blocking the view between himself, and the bikers.  He smiled with relief, and found a hole just large enough for he and his gear hanging off of him to fit through it.

As he stepped inside, he could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the skylights overhead, with much of it leaking its way through to the floor at his feet.  The sounds of the bikers and their bikes had become slightly quieter now, and like the volume, Tyler's worry over them decreased.

A new apprehension had come over him as he leveled his CAR 15 to a comfortable low ready, and prepared to move through the dimly lit foyer of this mall.  He clicked on the small tactical radio at his chest, and set the small ear piece to his ear, adjusting the volume to a comfortable level as he began walking quietly through the foyer of the mall.

He waited to hear some sort of talking over the net before speaking, so as not to jeopardize his comms, and moreover, his current position. He took a knee, and got another quick drink of water, then went back to moving just swiftly enough to have a rhythm, but slow enough to scan for anything suspicious, or something of good use.

He pondered his new worries, and formed a short question in his mind.

Why were all those junk piles out there like that?
This message was last edited by the player at 04:22, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

The foyer was dark, there was no light. However, Tyler could smell people had been living in this building, a combination of body odor, smoke and food, but thankfully no human waste.

There was some trash littered around, and once his eyes adjusted to the gloom he could see footprints in the dust around the entrance he'd just some through. Outside behind him, he could hear motorcyle engines echoing off the buildings.

He took a few steps in and was about to switch on the light clipped to his LCB when a flashlight clicked on from about 20m away to his 10-o'clock, illuminating him. A voice off to his right (3-o'clock position) said,

"Hey man, looking for the Boxing Day sale at the Bay or something?"

Thankfully, he didn't hear the sound of weapons being cocked, only the sound of his breathing and rain dripping off him onto the tiled floor.

---

Outside and up the street in the van, Andy struggled into his HAZMAT "Bunnysuit". Really all protective garments tended to be called that, from the white HAZMAT coveralls to NBC/MOPP suits. Better make this look good...

Down Granville at the corner of West Pender, they could see the par of bikers sitting on their Hawgs and watching them. The sound of engines grew louder from that direction, indicating that's where the mass of bikers were headed, bypassing them to the north along West Pender.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:30, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler had been through a lot in his young years, and sort of a sixth sense was within his soul.  As the flashlight clicked on, even before the ray of light washed over him, a cold chill quickly ran down his spine, as if his senses knew it was coming even before it actually did.

It took his mind a few seconds to quickly jog to catch up with his nerves, a slight vibration in his ears bringing him to a higher heart rate, and a heightened state of fear.  No man was fearless, though Tyler was akin to channeling the fear into all the right places.

Tyler stopped walking after making a few smaller strides toward the light.  No use in closing either eye as he was caught completely off guard, and his night vision was not even mature enough to be lost.  He let the CAR-15 drop across his chest, and hang by the tactical sling.  He looked in the direction of the unlit voice, and didn't show or emote anything.  Instead he kept his eyes glued to the general direction of the voice, and began raising his palms to shoulder level.

Once his hands were slightly raised, hopefully showing his signal of being neutral, he spoke.

"I'm just here to get dry, and do a little shopping," he said in a monotone voice.

"Maybe you could give me a trifold, or a guide to the place," he added with a slight smirk.

Suddenly, Tyler recalled the gear he had grabbed before stepping, and smiled inside that he had the super concentrated tear gas, and gas mask.

Like I said, this could get ugly.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #33):

He was answered with a dry laugh by the unseen man who sounded like he was in his 30's and had a slight sing-song accent of some kind, perhaps Jamaican.

"No problem man, long as you're not gonna cause trouble or nothin'."

The light flicked over to Tyler's right and illuminated the space to the right of the doorway. It appeared to be a fast-food restaurant franchise of some kind called "Tim Hortons".

He could see when she pointed the light away from him that it was a young woman holding the light, and she appeared to be unarmed. "How about a double-double and a 24-pack of Timbits?"

Tyler saw there was a wide desk of some kind and that the mall foyer also formed part of an elevator lobby for the office building above.

The man continued, still unseen, "you look like a yank, right? Well, either way, you can come in and dry off."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:57, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler's shoulders noticeably relaxed, and he carefully put his hands down, resting them atop his weapon as if he were leaning on the railing of a balcony.  He was indeed a yank, and nodded at the notion.  Seeing clearly a large section of the lobby before him, Tyler moved about the area for a few seconds before answering the woman.

"I am fine, thanks," he said with a smile before turning to the man nearby.

"Yeah...I am an American," he said matter-of-factly.

"If it means anything, it really shouldn't...I am just trying to keep on keepin' on...ya know?"

Tyler continued to negotiate the area before him as the fast food type place lit it.  He was trying to allow his eyes to catch something of importance without alarming the two hospitable people near him.

"What exactly is this place...well...now, at least?" he asked them.

From in the rear of the elevator lobby, a light flared and a Coleman lantern was lit.

The man carrying it was a young light-skinned black man with a shaved head. He was wearing a surplus US woodland-pattern camouflage jacket and ripped jeans. A silver stud glinted in his left ear.

"Come on, have a seat. I'm Nathaniel. It's okay, Elise."

He sat down in one of the tables in Tim Hortons. The woman moved to have a look outside the boarded-up entrance. She had a slingshot on the wrist of the hand holding the light, although it was empty at the moment.

"Well you know, people always gonna be people. Always gonna be Canadians and Americans, Russians, Japanese, Vietnamese... don't mean they have to be enemies, eh?"

Taking out a silver flask, Nathaniel took a swig, then offered it to Tyler. He gestured around them.

"This, as you can see, was a shopping mall. Lots of clothing stores. When they evacuated the city and then the bombs went off, not everyone could or even wanted to make it out. This is one of the places the government made into a fallout shelter, this and the tunnels and the other malls under the downtown."

He held the hissing lantern over a sign on the floor. Dirt and dust covered it, but Tyler could make out a triangle-shaped logo and the words:

EMERGENCY SHELTER - by Order of Health Canada

ABRI D'URGENCES - selon l'ordre de Santé Canada

The rest of the words were gone with the lower half of the flimsy sign.

""Few months after the bombs went off, people started coming out of the underground. There wasn't anyone in the city. All gone. Dead, who knows? Guess they just kind of forgot there were survivors here. It was winter then, and we still needed a place to stay, so we just ended up living here."

"We grow food in the parks and on the rooftops, salvage what we can. We don't have a lot to trade at the moment. If you're new here, one piece of advice: stay outta the Angels' way. But I hear they're hiring Yanks, Canucks, any ex-soldiers, you lookin' for work."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:29, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler gave a small wave off with his hand at the sight of the offered flask.

"I can't really risk being buzzed right, now, Nathaniel," he said in a low voice.

"I gotta be able and willing for whatever comes my way...booze has a habit of doing the opposite of that for me," he concluded with a chuckle.

He came closer, and moved into the small open area that was 'Tim Horton's,' but continued to stand.  He leaned against a wall, and watched the two people interact.  They seemed to be perhaps married; Tyler had a bad way of reading people in situations like these-the kind where people were just barely living a good life.  Hell, they could be best friends.  He really couldn't say...just yet.

Tyler looked about the small shop, and attempted to take in whatever wares these people may have.

"What will I find if I continue on into this place, Nathaniel?"

He outstretched a hand, fingers together, pointing toward the bowels of the mall with his entire palm.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #37):

The Tim Horton's was segregated from the rest of the lobby by a waist-high wall, and the booths were built into other similar walls. They were wood and chrome, and may or may not be protection from bullets.

At any rate there really wasn't a wall nearby except for the front counter (further in) or the exterior wall, so Typer positioned himself against the latter. Nathaniel eyed him from about 3-4m away, between him and the interior of the building. Next to Tyler was another separate entrance to the restaurant, chained on the inside and boarded up.

"What'll you see if you go further in? Not a lot of anything. Some people, I guess, 'cause they live here, you know?"

He shook his head.

"Don't think anyone would fuck with ya, on account of you lookin' like a badass and all, no offence. But you might want to stay on the safe side and keep close to the doors, here. Some folks might feel threatened by some stranger walkin' around their house."

"Sorry, didn't seem to catch your name?"

As he stood there, Tyler could hear sounds from further in the dark complex. At least a couple people were moving around in the darkness, and he thought he could see a tiny glint of candle flame indirectly reflecting off a shiny surface, although he could not see the exact source.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:18, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler stood up from his lean on the wall, and stepped about the small area that was the shop.  He looked at Elise, and then to Nathaniel.  He listened to the man's advice, somewhat annoyed by the man's words of so called wisdom.  No matter, he thought, as he squashed the judgment he had begun to pass on Nathaniel.  The man did not know him any better than Tyler knew him, so Tyler gave him the benefit of the doubt.  Tyler was a big boy, and had been through plenty.  As long as he himself knew it, and was confident in himself, he would be okay.

"Name's Tyler," he said as he looked out into the darkness of the mall.  Tyler checked his watch.  It was around a quarter after Eleven, and he would need to be making radio contact with those Canadian weirdos soon.  He wasn't too sure of them at the moment, but his dad didn't seem to mind them any more than the next paranoid Vietnam vet.

Tyler smiled when he thought of his dad, and what they had been through; suddenly the mission, and the side tracking escapade at hand brought Tyler back into focus.  He brought the slung 2 quart canteen up, unscrewed the top, and brought it to his lips.  After a healthy swig, he put it back to its place around his arm.

"I think I'll be moving along, if you don't mind," he said in a distant tone, his mind clearly somewhere else", gotta see what I can see in this place."

He checked that his knife was close at hand, and his CAR-15 on SAFE, at low ready, and began heading toward the doorway that would lead him out into the depths and darkness of the mall.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:13, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

"Well Mister Tyler, well met!"

Nathaniel stood and made a waving off gesture that Tyler caught from the corner of his eye as he passed by.

"If you're asking my permission to come in, by all means it's granted. Don't touch anything, don't take anything. Ask permission before entering anyone's space."

Grabbing the lantern he followed the other man, not too close, but within easy sight.

"I think I'll tag along, if you don't mind. See you don't get yourself into trouble. Easy to get lost, under here."

As they moved out of the foyer and into the mall proper, Tyler could see a couple people moving in the darkness and hear someone coughing, echoing off the tile floors and glass storefronts. A few small lights, candles or maybe a lamp by the look of it, burned a ways off in the darkness. There was no natural light, either the mall went underground at this point or the structure of office buildings above didn't allow it.

Behind him outside, the engine noises rose to a crescendo that might have been painful had he been located nearby, then diminished.

---

At this point, Andy had suited up. Kelsey was scanning the local channels, but getting no joy on any intercept.

They saw the main group pass to the north, and now the sound passed away, going to the east. There was still a pair of bikers watching them from a block away, to the north, looking uncomfortable in the pouring rain.

Dr. Pang and the paramedic came over to the van. The Doctor addressed Andy (being the ranking NCo), "Well, Corporal, what's the plan? You do your thing here, we take one of the mounties and see if there's anyone over at the Bay? Or wait until you give the all-clear here at the drains? We're in no big rush here."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:21, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

Tyler took his hands off his weapon, and let it hang free so as not to be overly threatening.  He nodded, and smiled at Nathaniel.

"Sure thing, man," he said kindly", I don't want to be wearing a black hat in the place...just passing through, seeing what I can see...maybe make a friend or two...who knows."

Tyler continued talking as the man followed him, noting that he was not next to him, but instead in somewhat of a submissive stance behind him.  Tyler chuckled and turned to meet the man's face with his own.

"Like I was saying, though," he said, slowing down to allow the man to catch up and be at his side.

"What other sort of things are down here?" he asked", anyone around here of importance?  Anyone friendly enough to hang with?  Anybody?"

Tyler slowly rubbed an area near the hand guards of his CAR-15 that had too much CLP on it.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #41):

Nathaniel caught up a bit.

"Frankly, people just kind of live down here, and they mind their own business. Some people live down here because they don't want to meet new people, you understand?"

"There are better places to go if you're looking for people. Clubs, the market."

"If you're looking to meet people there's Brandie's of course. Anything you want you can get there. Girls, booze, uptown, downtown, you name it. The Hells are always lookin' to hire people. There's the Penthouse over on, ah, Seymour, also got girls and a good kitchen. There's the market on Granville Island, but that's on Sunday. I could take you to see Shepherd, good guy, knows everyone."

Tyler could see the mall was stripped here, not really damaged, but that at one time a lot of people had lived in close proximity. There were still blankets strung up in the empty storefronts, but the spaces were long empty.

He saw a mall map on a board. It was a big place, over three city blocks long, one "underground" level, one street level, and two of three blocks also had an upper level. There were connecting tunnels to a smaller complex across the street about a block away.

"I dunno Tyler, you someone people want to meet? Why not tell me a little about yourself, where you from, what you doing here."

He chuckled, to show he wasn't being unfriendly. Tyler got the impression Nathaniel was kind of a doorman of sorts, there to check out people wanting access.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:16, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

"Mac, I think we should bug out of this place.  Those bikers obviously own it and we are sticking out like a two penny nail in a piece of plywood.  A foot recon makes more sense of this place, and I dare say foot and loaded, those boys mean business.. or we wait on the turret of the car, but I wouldn't rule out those folks have anti-tank"

Tyler looked over at him, and gave a slight smile.

"I am nobody really...just a guy trying to see some things before I head back to my little house on the water...sucks really...I was...well...I am a Soldier in the US Army...sort of on a hiatus at the moment...helping my dad get along with life back at our place up north."

He looked down at the floor as the two men walked, then scanned the area, still hoping for something of interest.  The few places Nathaniel mentioned made Tyler's ears perk up.  Booze, broads, people, entertainment...it sounded pretty good.

"Brandie's, you said?" he asked quite suddenly.

"Where is this Brandie's place?  I could use a good meal...MRE's over the last few weeks have really started pissing me off...you know?"

Tyler stopped in the middle of his stride, and it got him thinking.  His food supply could last him years upon years, it seemed.

"Different subject here altogether, but...how are you and your fellow people here holding up with food, Nathaniel?"

At the mention of food and MREs, Nathaniel studied him thoughtfully. Then he laughed at the mention of Brandie's.

"Yeah, Brandie's is a couple blocks west from here, towards the park. On Dunsmuir and Howe."

"We do okay for food, like I said, we grow our own. Every once in a while, we trade fresh food to some guys over by the Park, get some food like MREs in return. Yanks, survivalists."

Now it was Tyler's turn to be a little surprised. He knew his dad traded with a guy in the city named "Shepherd", mostly MREs and occasionally ammunition, in exchange for fresh food and salvaged goods. He met Shepherd on shore, never brought him over to the Island.

Tyler saw there were a few figures approaching in the darkness, from deeper in the mall. They were still a ways off, but seemed to be coming towards them.

Tyler now brought it upon himself to do something good for his fellow man.  Before he left here, he mused, he would give Nathanial a token of his appreciation for being so hospitable.

"I think I will go check this Brandie's place out after this, Nathaniel," he declared.

Tyler looked onward into the darkness, and saw several figures coming toward them.  Instinctively, Tyler brought his hands away from his weapon, and put them on his hips, trying not to show any more force than he was already showing.

"Nathanial?" he said, queuing the Caribbean man to say or do something about the people coming toward them.

He lifted his lantern to cast more light. They could see the faces of the approaching men, who didn't seem to be armed.

"Huh. Don't worry, I know them. Stay here, just be a sec."

He went over to talk to the men, who conferred with him. He soon came back.

"They say there's some cops outside in the street, plus an ambulance and HAZMAT van. These friends of yours?"

Tyler watched the men speak, then brought his attention to Nathaniel as he came back.

"HAZMAT?  Ambulance?  Cops...um," Tyler said in a fractal way as he heard the words.

"Perhaps...who knows."

He checked his watch.  It was half past Eleven.  He may as well try to contact his Canadian counterparts to see where they were.  Quickly, he moved away from Nathaniel, bringing the radio up, and switched the channel.

"Gimme a sec, my friend," he said, bringing up his pointer finger to Nathaniel.  "I am about to find out."

Tyler adjusted the volume, and pressed the PTT button on the radio transmitter.

"Net call, net call, this is Dropkick Wun Seven Tree.  Radio check, over."

Andy got out of the van and busied himself taking samples of the drain water, he made it look as convincing as he could, shaking his head and tutting, and leaving chalk marks at some of them.

He felt the buzzing of his radio and flicked channels, "Howdy Dropkick Wun Seven Three, reading you loud and clear. How's it going?"

Tyler reared his head in a bit of disgust, and smiled at Nathaniel.

"Amateurs," he muttered.

He keyed the mike again, and continued.

"Last calling station, this is Dropkick 173.  Be advised, I do not have a positive on your location or callsign.  Last calling station, identify yourself, over."

Nathaniel stepped back and conferred with his friends, giving Tyler some privacy.

This message was deleted by the player at 15:11, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

This message was deleted by the player at 15:15, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #51):

Clarke heard Tyler reply to Andy.  She was still waiting for a response as well. "Green one this is green six.  Say again, need SITREP, over."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:00, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

*Kelsey, a little flustered, picks up the radio*
"Green Six, this is Green one, Contact from Sierra element, stand by"

*She switches radios*

"Go ahead Dropkick, this is Green one.  Loud and clear."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:15, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

*Kelsey shakes her head at Mac, gives him an evil look*
"Got it now Mac, How's it going.. Howdy?"  *She laughs*

Tyler listened for an acknowledgment, and finally heard his queue.

"Green One, Dropkick 173.  What is your current AO? Over."

Tyler frowned when he checked his watch.  He moved to Nathaniel, and outstretched his right hand.

"My friend, it was good meeting you," he said, nodding to the folks he was interrupting.

"I hope to see you soon."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:02, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

Nathaniel nodded in a friendly way.

"Cool, man. Good meetin' you, Tyler!"

"The closest exit to those guys is just down there, on the left. Go down that passage past some stores, up a short flight of stairs. Exit is under some plywood on the right side of the door."

"If you're with the government, just make sure they don't forget us, again!"

Following his directions, Tyler found himself on the west side of Granville, about a half-block down from Dunsmuir and the waiting vehicles.

It was still raining hard, although he was under the building overhang.

Parked just up the street was a police car, a red HAZMAT van, an ambulance and a news van of some kind, all idling and not abandoned.

Checking the storm sewer drain in the intersection, Andy sweated under the white bunnysuit's filter mask. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone in US-style camouflage BDUs and armed with a CAR-15 emerge from behind a plywood sheet boarding up an exit onto street level. He recognised Tyler, Ed's son, whom he'd met and made friends with last night.

(Kelsey is talking to Green six on another freq, she would not have given the survivalists access to the milnet)



"Dropkick 173, Green 1 element is on the peninsula.  Over."

"Green 1, Dropkick.  I am currently near zero three vehicles
BREAK
One ambulance, two vans
BREAK
Zero one personnel in HAZMAT suit nearby.  This at all ringing bells? over."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:49, Sun 24 Aug 2008.

*Kelsey laughs a little and shakes her head*
"Dropkick 137, you have victor on green 1 element, hotel alpha zulu mike alpha tango is actual, that bunny is Green Too Tree"

Tyler quickly took off the earpiece.

"173 OUT," he said simply before clicking off the radio.

Tyler took a knee, checked his watch, took a drink of water out of his two quart, and stood, walking in a direct route down the street toward the HAZMAT van, weapon at the low ready.

Just in case.

As he rounded the first vehicle, and came to the HAZMAT van's cab, he smiled at the man in the suit, and looked into the cab.

"Sup sup?" he asked simply, bringing his stance to that of a less tactical one.

Kelsey motions to Tyler, popping the side door to the HAZMAT van partway.

"Come on in and don't drip on my gear Tyler, good to see you.  Be careful we have a couple  watching us, but I doubt they can see much in all this rain"

Kelsey's back there, dressed in her normal battle dress, raingear over it, it was still coming down outside like they needed to build an ark outside.  She seems unassuming, girl next door cute, a ready open smile, hair back in a ponytail.  The van's interior as he looks is rather well rigged with radios and directional gear, as well as more toys, a weapons rack for holding the standard Colts nearby, hers in it at the moment.

"So what do we owe the honor of the visit?"

Andy was having lots of fun pretending to take samples of the water going into the drain using little jars that were difficult to handly wearing gauntlets. At least he couldn't feel the rain in the bunnysuit, although the patter of it striking the stiff material was loud in his ears. He waved the chemical detector around, not really knowing (or needing to know) what the readings meant.

Kelsey was getting a little drier waiting in the van, careful not to let her uniform get too visible. (It was the standard OD Green "combats", non-camouflaged and extremely comfortable looking.) She would have to get back into the soaked white coveralls soon, otherwise the whole point of a "covert" survey would be lost. Tyler recognised her as the woman he'd met the night before, the signals person or RATELO who'd attended the meeting in a kilt and Scottish cap (a Glengarry) and had definitely been on the informal side.

The radio continued to scan the local frequencies, not getting any solid hits on radio traffic.

Tyler stepped inside the van, and sat down, opening his vest, and wet weather gear below it.  He laid the butt of the rifle on the floor of the van, and let the CAR-15 lean against his chest.

"I guess I am here to...liaise, as my dad would say?" he said in a half hearted tone.

"Your the RTO right?" Tyler continued, hoping to build some sort of rapport with the stocky woman.

Kelsey, who might hurt you if you refer to her as "the stocky woman", gestures to the door  "Get on inside and button it back up"
She settles back and lights a smoke, offers him one.
"Going to have to liaise on the run, Tyler, we are mid mission here.  With those bikers around I don't mind a spare rifle"  She looks Tyler over a moment and nods slightly  "Radio, electronic ops, maintenance, rifleman.  Corporal Champlain.  Call me Kelsey."

As Kelsey and Tyler got reacquainted in the back of the van, Andy finished his "HAZMAT" survey of the area with the help of the Doctor.

Finally, Kelsey managed to locate a channel with some traffic on it. It sounded like the bikers in the downtown were using unscrambled hand-held radios for comms. One of the pair of bikers keeping watch on them used the name "Charcoal" and he made odd reports to "Bear" about their observations of the team ("Ah, yeah, the pigs are still pokin' around, lookin' for some shit. Nothin' more to see.") After a while the rain and boredom got to the pair of watchers and they took off towards the east.

When it was time to go over and meet the locals, none were to be found. No one was watching them, perhaps scared off by the guns, the watching bikers, or both.

At either rate, it seemed that aside from the bikers presumably at Brandie's, they had the downtown streets to themselves for the rest of the afternoon to conduct their recce. If they wanted to get out and find people, that would be another story.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Mon 25 Aug 2008.

Clarke was starting to get a little testing waiting for a report.  "Green one this is Green Actual - you have not responded to request for SITREP."

She figures things couldn't be going too badly, as she had picked up what sounded like communication between Tyler Hope and the recce team.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:29, Tue 26 Aug 2008.

"Green Actual, this is Green One, needed to make the charade look real for anyone that was still looking. We made contact with at least nine Hell's Angels, they were disciplined and well armed, civilian pistols and mostly civilian rifles and shotguns. All had motorcycles and an adequate supply of fuel from the way they were revving. They were aggressive and combative but I explained that there was a potential HAZMAT leak and they took an alternate route. That syggests they are clever enough not to take chances, and I'm assuming that we are under close supervision and will be for the duration of the patrol. The leader of the group has invited me back to their bar, which may be an in for INTEL. We have also met up with Mr. Hope who will be our liaison from the Survival Enclave," Andy spoke calmly over the secure channel, "There are locals here taht look as if they need medical help and I'd suggest we try to contact them before continuing the sweep. Awaiting orders on whether to make contact and where you want us to go next on the patrol, Over."

Tyler's head snapped over at Andy; he exited the van, and snatched up the man's HAZMAT suit sleeve, angry as ever.

"Hey, man...what the fuck?!" Tyler exclaimed, looking into the man's eyes.

"Don't say my name over the radio...the fuck's WRONG with you?  And don't even mention where the hell I came from...got me?" he added, shoving the man's arm away at the word 'wrong.'

Tyler's heart rate increased at an enormous rate, and he quickly went for a lighter in his pocket as he moved back into the van.

"Yeah...gimme one of those fuckin cigarettes, please," he asked Kelsey mildly.

He shot eyes at the man in the "bunny suit" once more, and shook his head.

"You could also try breaking your Tee Exing every few seconds or so...anything special you had loaded in that radio ain't worth a damn after a good minute of talking..."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:20, Tue 26 Aug 2008.

"I'll bear it in mind," Andy "said, "and it's nice to see you too."

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #71):

Green one this is green Actual.  Acknowledge you have made contact with Dropkick 173 and are Charlie Mike, break.  If you have opps for friendly contact, go for it.  Wave the flag and all that, break.  Keep transmissions short.  Don't want you getting pinged by the baddies.  Green Actual out.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:55, Tue 26 Aug 2008.

*Kelsey hands over the smoke without another word to Tyler, giving him a bit of an apologetic smile, motions Mac into the van*

"Mac.. radio procedures are VERY important.  I think we need to cut this short and head back to base now.  I'll need to reset our codes.  And please.. use a real radio for anything that important, your little handheld is not near as secure as the vehicle radio."

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg #74):

Green one this is green six.  Your still at Dunsmuir and Granville, correct?  The situation with the pigs has cooled down, break.  Need you to recce the routes there.  Make your way to W. George and proceed North/North West to within view of the Stanley Park Causeway.  Turn left on Denman Street before you reach the Causeway.  Report on the route and check back in once you are on Denman.  Green six out.

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #75):

"I copy, Green six, green one out"

"Ok, everyone mount up, we're heading home."

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #77):

*Kelsey leans back, shakes her head a little*

"Mac, it's probably ok, and Clarke wants us to scout more, but your call"

*She picks up the radio mic*

"Green six this is Green 1 *break*  Green six this is green 1, over.  (wait on reply) Green six advise that Green 1 is pulling out, over."

"OK," Andy said, "where does the Boss want us to go next?"

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg #78):

Green one this is green six.  Recce route for upcoming mission, break.  I repeat: Recce route for upcoming mission.  Begin with route just given.  Report back when you reach Denman Street.  Green Six out."

"Green six this is green one." break  "Wilco, out."

*She turns to the boys*

"You heard the lady"  Kelsey chuckles.

"OK," Andy said, "let's mount up and head on."

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #82):

"Green one this is green six.  Slight change of route.  If the HA are no longer eyeballing you, turn right from W. George on Bute, then left on W. Pender and continue until you merge with W. George again.  This will allow you to trace more of the route of the target.  Green six out."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Thu 04 Sept 2008.

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #83):

"Green six, green one copies, wilco, out."

Kelsey pulls out the map and looks over the route

"Well, boys... you hear the lady.. ugh.. ok.. where are we going?"

Avoiding a direct drive-by of the Angel's hang-out at Brandie's, the recce element turned left on Granville, then right on W. Georgia.

They noticed that the main through-fairs seemed to have at least 1 lane cleared. Abandoned vehicles had been towed or rolled off to the side and double- or triple-parked where convenient.

W. Georgia was lined at first with office buildings, although the first part was the Stone edifice of the Art Gallery (formerly the Law Courts), well-known from scenes in many shot-in-Vancouver movies that needed a solid stone building as a backdrop. Nearer to Denman the office buildings became high-rise apartment blocks.

Denman St. was reached without incident. They didn't see anyone around in the rainy weather, although it was getting towards noon. In the near distance was Stanley Park.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:47, Sat 06 Sept 2008.

As the side streets seemed to be jammed with stalled vehicles, the team had two basic choices: either continue along Denman or turn around and travel back on W. Georgia the way they came.

All along W. Georgia on the south side sat abandoned suitcases and luggage. Obviously the cleared route was used as an evacuation point for thousands of people in the formery heavily populated West End.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:07, Sun 07 Sept 2008.

Kelsey looks around as she slowly drives, looking as closely as she can while driving at any fortifications or possible uses for choke points to cut the streets off

"This is eerie as hell.  Well, I don't think we should close on the park completely.  Main routes open, what do you say we turn this around Mac?"

She will get out once when they do.. in disguise of course, though a lot of what they do requires.. rainsuits in this weather.  She wants to check out choke points and possible fortification

"This city is like a damn fortress to that park.  I think we may need to re-evaluate.  Anything we do with the stickmen or to them will be seen by the bikers, and I bet they won't come into our side.  Unfriendly territory starts a lot earlier than the park.  We will have to take care of the bikers first, boys.  Let's get the hell out of here."

Tyler listened to her, and notes to himself that they were going away from where his ATV was located.  He frowned, and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Hey," he said in a stand offish tone", I hate to break it to you, but I left my wheels back from where we came."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:59, Sun 07 Sept 2008.

"OK," Mac said, "check with the Boss if there's anything else they want and take more pictures. If the Boss doesn't say different, we'll backtrack to pick up the yank's ride."

"I say we pick it up on the way out, personally"

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg #90):

Clarke listened when the recce team called in and reported their findings.  She marked the route and the intelligence on a map she had spread out for that purpose.  It was marked in red with Cyrus' route while the route of the recce was marked on black.

Since you have to go back for 173's ride as it is, recce part of W. Pender on the way.  That's the route the target takes.  As you are going back, when you hit the V intersection on W. George veer left instead of right and you will be on Pender. Head back after you secure the vehicle.

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #91):

"Green six, green one copies, wilco, out."

Andy checked the route and nodded, as the little convoy moved out he kept a careful watch for danger from his window seat.

Kelsey drives slowly with the little convoy, taking the route the boss wanted checked, watching, being careful in this rain, wipers keeping time with a ticker in her head.

"Mac, keep some grenades handy and in mind, good shit against packs of bikes" Another few moments  "Holy.. is that a cat?"  she slows a moment then keeps moving, with one more glance in the rear view mirror.  So surreal, this semi abandoned downtown by heavy rain, cloaking it and washing it.  "Ever feel like you are a minor character in a cheap dime novel?"  She muses.

The little convoy managed to get turned around in short order, then go back the way they came along W. Georgia to take the left along W. Pender. This area was mainly office blocks with some commercial spaces.

They noticed that Major throughfares like W. Georgia, W. Pender, Denman, and so on were all cleared, at least for 1 but usually the 2 centre lanes. The other streets were choked with abandoned vehicles (many with their hoods still up, and some haphazardly stripped of tires or engine parts) making passage for anything larger than bikes or ATVs difficult. Otherwise there was little actual rubble. A very few buildings had been burned, but damage was mainly limited to broken windows and forced doors.

It became apparent that Cyrus chose this route to bike to the whorehouse because it was on a relatively flat grade. The middle of the downtown was on a slightly hilly peninsula, and W. Georgia actually sloped up all the way to the Art Gallery.

Thus they successfully completed the preliminary object of the recce, scouting out Cyrus' route. They had gone most of the way to the northernmost approach to the park, but the other approaches were still to be recced.

Soon they turned left on Howe, crossing Hastings, then approached the underground parkade ramp to Sinclair Centre. The old building was made of solid dressed stone, built decades earlier before WWII.

The police car in front stopped outside the entrance, presumably to let Tyler dismount and retrieve his ATV.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #95):

As the recce reported their results back, Clarke marked the map back at HQ.  Once Tyler had his vehicle they should be headed back to the base.

Waiting while Tyler steeled himself to go out in the rain again, Kelsey heard a transmission on the Angels' frequency. It was fairly strong, indicating it originated within a few kilometres, and the azimuth was about 95 degrees, almost due east.

"Ah, hey Driver, this is Peters. Driver, wake up, you stupid fuck!"

After a few seconds was a reply. The signal was a little further away, coming from the SE (azimuth approx 140 degrees).

"Yeah, you asshole, whaddaya want?"

"I just got in to the clubhouse with Bear. There's pigs in the downtown. Mounties. Nosing around. Better tell Brownstone."

"Shit. I guess so. He's not going to be happy about those pigs in the downtown. That's his turf, so he says."

"Who cares, longs as he's not unhappy with us?"

"Dude, that's one scary motherfucker. I wouldn't want him pissed at me, know what I mean?"

"You know it brother."

"Hey, I seen that blonde cunt again. I see her again, I'm gonna grab her. Me and her, we're gonna party, then I'll take care of business, know what I mean?"

The other man laughed, a mean greedy sound.

"I hear you! If you do, save a piece for me. See you later tonight."

"Right on, hope the beer's cold."

"It is, brother, it is."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:30, Tue 09 Sept 2008.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #97):

*Kelsey records the transmission with a hard look on her face.. this will be turned in to Clarke as soon as they get back*

"Hard evidence that they kidnap women, rape them, and kill them."

She looks.. angry, come to think of it.  Not an expression normally seen on her face, so it took a little for others to decipher.

"Green six, this is Green one." Break  "Green One requests permission to extract Alpha Sierra Alpha Papa"  Break  "Our cover is blown, per intercepted transmission.  You will want to hear this Green Six."  Break   "Over."

"Green one, this is Green Six.  Permission to extract granted.  Do you need backup? Over."

This time, Clarke decided not to wait for confirmation.  She could always recall the team if need be.  She had Taras contact Lee to scramble the standby, giving the location of the recce team.  She told him to keep Lee on the line for updates on the situation with the recce team while the backup was in route.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:13, Wed 10 Sept 2008.

In reply to Andrea Clarke-Sullivan (msg #99):

"Wilco Green six, Green one out"

Kelsey looks around

"You hear the woman, out of here post haste.  You good with that Mac?  Tyler, you want to ride with us or grab your vehicle and either convoy with or take your own route?"
This message was last edited by the player at 11:53, Wed 10 Sept 2008.

"I'm good to go," Mac muttered. The transmission had left him angry. Even when faced with such an enormous loss of life that every human left alive should be a precious miracle, some scum valued human life at zero. He tried not to grind his teth in frustration. Soon it would be time to work these emotions out, you didn't go into battle angry, and in a way, this helped, when he engaged the HAs, he wouldn't so much be killing people as exterminating bugs.

"We've got a lot of planning ahead of us."

Kelsey looks at Mac a moment, then nods.

"Yeah Mac, yeah."

"Be right back. Keep the meter running."

Slinging his CAR-15 Tyler dismounted into the rain. The downpour was lightening up into merely a heavy rain.

Checking for booby-traps he made his way down the ramp and into into the shadowed recess where he left his ATV. Stopping in a covered position to let his eyes adjust to the gloom, he saw that there were footprints in the think layer of concrete dust that carpeted the floor.

Tyler radioed a quick SITREP so that the others would know there was something odd and to expect a slight delay, not to worry.

Kneeling cautiously, he determined that the prints were of a woman in a hiking boot, around 110 lbs. She had entered via the ramp, ranged a bit back and forth, then gone over to his ATV and then... sat down on the hood of a car across the aisle? Sure enough, there was the imprint of a fairly shapely butt on the grimy metal, and it was even still faintly warm. By sniffing he could detect the faint odor of cigarette smoke.

He looked around and saw that she would have had a good view of the entrance, his ATV, and a clear path to the stairwell exit door, which was indeed where her footprints led.

After checking his ATV and determining that it wasn't trapped, he decided that, whoever she was, while she probably only had a few minutes head start on him there was little point in trying to follow her into the large forboding granite building above. Thinking a little more he recalled that Elise, the young blonde woman who'd been with keeping watch with Nathaniel in the other building, had also worn hiking boots. Either way, there was no real way to tell at the moment and his escort was bugging out.

Stowing his weapon and donning his rain gear and unlocking the wheels, Tyler mounted up and hit the ATV's starter switch. The Honda's engine quickly caught and he rode back it up the ramp and into the watery sunlight.


OOC: This character was NPCd to move the story along a little.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #103):

OOC: I don't recall which of the bridges are good, or if the groups have to go to Quebec Street to go around and head back to UBC.  Tony, please update as appropriate.

"Green One this is Green Six.  Green 23 has been scrambled.  Leave cautiously but not hasty.  We don't want them to know we picked up their transmissions.

She quickly had Taras relay to Lee the frequencies Kelsey was using.  "Tell Lee to put the hammer down until she reaches the area of Charleson Park, then get a SITREP from Kelsey.  If the bikers don't interfere with the recce patrol, then take a parallel route to theirs back to UBC and stay in constant contact.  If the HAs make a move, stomp on them hard.  We will monitor transmissions from here."

Once Taras had passed on the orders, Clarke explained.  "If the HAs haven't already caught on that we are monitoring their signals, we can set up listening gear and continue to monitor them.  Who knows what else we will pick up?"

"Roger Green six, thank you.  Keeping it slow"

*The team waits on the ATV to come back out into the rain with them, then they will proceed in an orderly manner to the designated rendezvous point*

The team did not know the conditions of the bridges.

That was, in fact, the point of a recce: to determine the conditions of transport corridors.

However, Belanger was able to confirm that all the bridges across False Creek to the downtown were sill standing and were cleared (1 or 2 lanes per usual). Therefore, the quickest route out of downtown was the Burrard St. Bridge.

To avoid back-tracking, Lee immediately changed her destination so that her element was waiting for them on the far (south) side of the bridge, near Vanier Park in a little mini-mall with a few empty stores, restaurants and a Starbucks.

As the team crossed the art-deco bridge they passed the Molson's brewery buildings at the far end, and beside it sat the armoury for the Seaforth Highlander Regiment (another "Scottish" militia infantry unit). Both sets of buildings seemed intact, although the armoury was likely emptied of any weapons and munitions.

There was no sign of pursuit and the team returned to UBC around 1400. The rain had slacked off a little, but it was still drizzling out.

Tyler was impressed by the University's outer security perimeter (double chain-linked fencing with a road between them, patrolled by sentries with dogs). Barricades in the street channeled vehicles into a single line and slowed them down, bunkers covered the crossing area in a crossfire. He thought he could see at least one GPMG inside the fighting positions. Although signs asked for people entering the secure area to surrender all firearms he was exempt, being escorted by the local security forces.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #106):

Clarke was waiting when the Recce team returned.  "OK, everyone, I've got lunch laid out, including some hot drinks to warm you up.  We'll debrief there.  I want to hear about everything you have seen and heard, from all of you.  She gave Tyler a look that indicated he was included in "all of you."

"Good job getting them out of a tight spot, Andy.  That kind of negotiating is ticklish to say the least.  Kelsey, I don't know what you picked up out there, but I'm eager to hear it.  Must be pretty serious for a seasoned vet like you to want to pull up stakes that quickly."  She spoke as she was hustling the team to the conference room.

"Mr. Hope, good to see you again.  Will you join us?  You look like you could use a spot of warming up as well."

Kelsey nodded to Clarke when she arrived, pulling herself out of some wet and picking up a cup of hot tea, holding it in both hands as she sipped, warming up a little, soon following it with a sandwich in small bites as she talked

"You judge, but it suddenly occurred to me we truly were in enemy territory, Clarke, and we seriously need to reevaluate the situation"

She puts a digital recorder on the tabletop and presses play.




Kelsey reaches up and stops the recording.

"I recommend we consider that area occupied territory by a hostile enemy force.  I further recommend that We consider dealing with them before worrying about the park.  I see now why the leader from the park feels comfortable going out into town, those bikers would gladly shoot someone down rather than look at them, we got lucky once, I don't think we should push our luck.  I want to put a retrans down in there to pick up their transmissions, we can do it on a early morning creep, two, three man team.  This is not anything we want to rush."

She looks a little worn, runs a hand through her hair, pulling out her scrunchie and letting her hair fall around her face and shoulders.

"Those bikers don't deserve much more than extermination, they have whoever is still alive down there like captive animals to toy with."

On the drive to the campus through the perimeter Tyler noted that a determined assault of at least a battle-group sized unit (a battalion plus support) would likely breach the defenses, although it would certainly take some casualties doing so. He noted fall-back positions behind the perimeter defenses inside the thick woods that surrounded the university campus. Mostly the defenses seemed geared towards preventing smash-and-grab raids by looters, criminals and so on. It would certainly be impossible for mounted raiders like bikers to use their mobility to sweep through the area with ease.

They soon passed through the small forest, then just past a sign for the TRIUMF Meson particle accelerator facility, the view opened up into sports fields and probably golf courses, gardens and landscaping all re-planted for crops. There were some livestock like pigs, chickens and even cows and horses. In the middle of the campus were many low and high-rise campus buildings, all undamaged and normal-looking. The few people out and about in the rain were a mixture of ages and sexes, with at least half being asian and almost no black faces. The streets were mostly empty of gas or alcohol-powered automobiles and trucks, although there was a few horse carts, many bicycles and pedestrians. As well he could see more than a few windmills for generating power, and there was smoke coming from what looked like a power-plant, probably the Uni's emall emergency generating plant.

The team's HQ seemed to be a well-kept residence, long and 3-story with antennas planted on top. The construction was wood and brick in a style reminiscent of urban Japan, and the "res" was named "Retsumikan House". Tyler was given his own room with electricity, a TV (showing taped reruns at the moment) and VCR, and hot and cold running water.

Once the various personnel changed out of the while HAZMAT coveralls into their normal work dress (aka "combats") it was obvious that at least a couple personnel (Andy/M. CPL McRae and SGT Fox) were airborne like him. The older fireplug of a man who was "University Provost" and head of campus security, Alain Belanger, also wore the faded red airborne beret (and could also show the same tattoo if asked, although a lot more faded than Andy's or Fox's).

Tyler related the people he met (Nathaniel and Elise, plus other nameless "Undergrounders"), in one of the underground shopping malls in the downtown. Also, the "blonde" that the bikers had been talking about might have been the girl, Elise, and that she may have been keeping watch over his ATV for some reason while he was riding with the team.

He also said he would pass along to his father, Ed, the instructions to trade some sabotaged gas masks, and that if they could get him some plastique like C4 he was more than capable of rigging his own booby-traps.

Tyler had been quite aloof since getting to UBC.  Something was bothering him.  Something he hadn't done.  People he hadn't seen.  Hadn't met.  The MREs he hadn't given to Nathaniel and the girl Elise.  The shape of the butt, and the footprints.

Who was that?

Thoughts crossed through his mind as he sat on a bench in a quad area of UBC, his blouse off and next to him, his other gear put away in a spot set aside for him.  He had locked away his CAR15, and switched it out for the beloved M1 Garand, a slew of loaded 8 round enblocs in a cargo pocket of his BDU pants, a canteen in the other.  The well built man continued sitting there, topless, thinking hard about the day's anti climactic events, and the people he hadn't met, nor the things he had seen.

He took off his maroon beret, and put it on his thigh before putting his chin into his hands, elbows on his knees; he closed his eyes, and continued to ponder.

Belanger pulled out his pipe and lit it, thinking.

"Treating the downtown as hostile territory is certainly within the Rules of Engagement. Bear in mind we still don't know where the loyaties of the Undergrounders lie, if anywhere. If they have a choice!"

He shook his head in caution.

"My recommendation wouldn't be to go after the Angels first. Stick with the current plan and keep on the Stickmen.

"We have hard intelligence that the Stickmen are going to take aggressive action against us, and soon. We've barely shown up on the HA's radar, so to speak.

"Dealing with the Stickmen will allow us to secure the park and the bridge to the North Shore. That will allow us to bring in the reinforcements from there, including Bulat's crew, and put us on 3 sides of the downtown: north, south and west (from the water).  They would be left with basically the east, and we can control that access by controlling the Dunsmuir and Georgia viaducts, Pacific Boulevard and West Hastintgs."

"The trade off being that once we secure the park, the Angels will be tipped off we're aiming to secure the whole area."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:51, Thu 11 Sept 2008.

*Kelsey nods, looking over the map and getting it in her head*
"Right, I see it now.  I worry about those civilians.. it's more territory occupied by a hostile force.  Our territory, damnit.  Let's get the stickmen down then A S A P then.

The news for Taras were disheartening. The perception of the recce team was, exaggerated or not, quite negative. He referred to Belanger but in a speech level enough to be heard by the rest of the crew present at that tiome:

... A group of bikers lightly armed and with dubious discipline in the demanding art of urban warfare could represent a clear and present danger to a disguised scientific expedition but they are not a match to a full frontal military parade towards the park with a 17 tons LAV III popping around 25 mike-mikes, 7,62 rainbows and all the rest salt-peppered with 40 mm grenades, smoke and gas canisters, etc.

For better or for worst, ex Lt. Shevchenko, combat engineer in the Red Army, was well aware of the danger of facing a first rate NATO country. He was feeling confident, the bandits were not regular army with first rate training, discipline and equipment:

Those thugs didn't find their match yet. I believe we can use the better weapon that we have to prevail over the pests that inhabit the Park and downtown: Our brains.

A pause came in. He did want to sink the words to accentuate their value:

The operation to take over the stickmen in the Stanley Park will be conducted from 4 different approaches. Using unity of command, speed, surprise, overwhelming presence of force and extreming security measures for our men.

Only the Southern approach could be probably threaten by the Hell's Amgels and this is where we are going to move our bigger assault element including our Queen : the LAV III and probably hundred troops or so including RCMP and militia.

Once the Park is secured the Hell's Angels will have a few options. For once they will discover the amount of force that the government can and does deploy. They will be almost surrounded. Some of them will have doubts and even change their minds. We will leave one door open, the "East" or Georgia viaduct and give them the opportunity to move out. We are not prepared for a downtown battle yet with entrenched enemies fighting to the last. ( ...Which Sun Tzu's "Art of War" was that...?)Let the mouse get out the hole. The whole idea is to win the territory and its population and not to confront any enemy if possible.

Finally the bear will come down knocking the door. When the time comes we have to be ready and have the upper hand in any possible negotiation. After their reign in downtown is finished they will be willing to continue business somewhere else, unmolested. They will be probably willing to pay a price, even. But first we have to show them who is running the show here.

After the speech Taras immediately change his line of thought and started thinking about mounting directional mines in the sides of the LAV III to prevent any swarming of bikers...

Belanger laughed.

"Cyrus is crazy, but he's dangerous because he's training his people and is willing to take offensive action."

"The Angels are more like rats. They are strong when no one opposes them, they prey on the weak. If we corner them downtown they will fight."

"Perhaps like rats, they will also flee when confronted with superiour force, if we give them an escape route. We can follow them, find out where they hide, monitor their panicked cries over the radio."

"I like it! I will assign some teams to follow them."

"In the mean time, we should continue on with our plans. See what Josh, our mole, says what's going on in the Stickmen camp. Tomorrow we spy on Cyrus as he takes his trip to the whorehouse."

"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.