It had rained hard all day, and looked like it was going to continue to do so all evening. The rain depressed Rob a little because although it's not like it never rained back home it wasn't this wet in Texas, even on the Gulf Coast.

He was down by the boat dock, ostensibly checking on the group's small craft and the sailboat that had delivered them here, but really he was trying to get some space from the people all cooped up on this tiny islet. Including Cherie, his girlfriend and "significant other".

Rob considered going fishing, maybe taking a skiff out into Burrard Inlet and catching some fresh salmon or ling cod. Fish they had plenty of, as well as preserved food from the wreck beached not too far away, but fresh vegetables were hard to grow on the rocky little islet.

In the 6 months, the only action he knew of around here occurred about 6 months ago, during late fall (it was April). An armed merchant convoy had tried to force the ground route through the park that led to the bridge on the far side. The bridge was the only surviving route north out of the city, so it was vital. But the Stickmen held the southern approach (which was through the heavuly forested park) and didn't let people pass for anything, not even a toll. The convoy of several trucks, some armoured "technicals" and even a couple of bikes had been ambushed and destroyed on the narrow 3-lane causeway through the thick forest that covered most of the park. Burning wrecks had been pushed out into the street that fed the causeway, and men (mostly alive) had been hung from the girders of the bridge. There had been screaming for days, after. Primitive they may be, but they were organised and vicious.

At least under the hand of their leader, "Cyrus". There had been some clashes between the two groups, survivalists and Stickmen. Once or twice a grudging trade had been made where the Stickmen traded fresh food and fuel for medicines, but mostly they ignored one another.

Something was happening around here, finally. About a week ago someone had tried some kind of probe or night recon of the large adjoining park, and engaged the gang that held the territory. It all happened on the far side of the park, near the bridge that spanned the wide inlet (Burrard Inlet) they were on. It had ended with a few flares being launched and what Rob knew was several bursts of 30mm autocannon or 40mm grenades fired on autofire, probably suppression fire to cover the withdrawal of whoever had trespassed.

Since then the Stickmen had been more active, preparing their well-honed defences for a siege, or perhaps some kind of retaliation. They had been mostly practicing and "drilling" at night, as if that's when they expected an attack by police or military to come. They had also traded the survivalists for some gas masks, so they expected tear gas in the near future, too.

Then a few days ago Ed (with Rob and Ed's son Tyler covering) had met with some Canadian government officials. The federal government had established an enclave in the city, and convinced Ed that it was wisest to help them out. Ed wasn't too crazy about the idea, but he could see the Stickmen were a dead end and if they wanted to continue living around there they would have to come to some kind of accommodation with the authorities. At least if they could clear the park, then the little band of expatriots could move around a little, get out of their tiny island bastion/prison, maybe do some trading.

After the meeting, radio communcations between the two enclaves (government and survivalists) were established. Ed had sent his son, Tyler, to scope out the government enclave to see if they were worthy of earning his trust, and to act as personal liaison.

Rob could hear someone coming down the dock and he looked up. It was Ed. Ed had known his father in Vietnam, both were in the Air Cav in '68-'69. Ed wasn't some weird hippie-looking guy or crazy vet, he looked like (and was) a former forestry company executive. Although he now wore a beard it was neatly trimmed, and the rims of his glasses were gold.

He walked up and pulled back the hood of his long Gore-Tex rain jacket, practically standard-issue for these rainy latitudes.

"Rob, how's it going, man? Look, can I ask something from you? It's kind of dangerous. The government guys, they want to arrest Cyrus, and you know I think that's a good idea. Those gas masks I traded to the Stickmen aren't going to work they way those assholes think they are."

Ed and Rob had talked quite a few times about how they'd like to bust the little primitive Hitler and his gang, but even if they were to snipe Cyurus, there was almost a hundred others (including women and children); who's to say someone more vicious and more active wouldn't quickly replace him as leader? It was a good idea to have the local government do their dirty work for them.

"We know the Stickmen have a source of fuel, kerosine and gasoline, in the park. We trade them for it, every once in a while. They don't make it themselves, of course, so they must have a supply."

"I want you to locate it for me. If we get it first, maybe the Canuck federales will want to cut us an even better deal. You in?"

Rob knew that Cheyenne, one of his nieces, needed an operation that only the government could provide with it's hospital in their enclave at the University of BC (UBC), so they already needed the government's help. But it would be much better to deal from a position of relative strength, not weakness.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:52, Sat 07 Mar 2009.

Conklin thinks on the offer only for a second and then starts to ponder the idea of  actually having something fun to do for a change.

" I don't see why not. Any clue as to a possible location? Old fuel depot, gas station or something?" And what do you plan to do when I locate it? I doubt we can bring it back here. We'd have to destroy it or envelope it and defend it. The Canucks are just going to lay claim to it otherwise."

Conklin considers the possible answers for himself while he waits for Ed to elaborate a bit more. Only more questions greeted his thoughts.

"Do we know when the Canucks are planning their jaunt in the park? If we can take over the fuel supply while the stick dicks are fending them off it might work. I'd love nothing more then taking out Cyrus just before or during the attack as well. Just for ole times sake. But we better make damn sure the Canucks are prepared and not half-assing this. There will be hell to pay if we go this route and the Cunucks dick it up. Any word from Tyler on their capabilities?"

Hoping not to overwhelm Ed with even more questions he turns back to the bay as if the answers were somewhere out there while he waited for a response.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #2):

Ed shrugged, not knowing a lot.

"Tyler seems to think their plan will work. It will happen in the next couple days, they're waiting on something. We're supposed to help out, secure our patch of the park, and doing a little recon will help a lot. Ty can't say a lot over the radio. We have a cypher and I don't think the Stickmen are listening, but he hasn't given me a lot of details due to operational security. He did say they thought they could take Cyrus and most, if not all his crew alive. I don't know if I buy that, but Ty didn't think this was going to be another Waco."

They had discussed over the last couple days their assigned objectives, and if things went well Ed thought it was achievable.

"According to the tourist maps and some satellite photos of the park, there are no gas stations, but there was a police station. If it's an underground tank we can't take it, but if it's a truck..."

He looked out at the rain, took his hands out of his pockets and fumbled with his pipe. "My contact in the city, Shepherd, says that merchant convoy that got creamed had a fuel truck. Makes sense; kerosine is jet fuel and there is no heliport in the park, no reason for them to store it."

"Worse comes to worse we can find out."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:59, Sat 07 Mar 2009.

Conklin turned back toward Ed again with a smirk on his face.

"I guess we will find out then. I will gather my stuff and get going. Do you have a secure radio that you can use?"

Conklin pauses for a second before waving off the question.

" Nevermind. I will give you one of my spare handhelds once I set up the Freqs. I'd prefer to report to you and you alone if that is possible. Don't need some sleeper selling me out while I am in there.  Just tell anyone that asks that I am doing some fishing and scrounging in the city."

Trying to think of anything else he'd need to ask about then continues.

" Am I going to stay out until this thing goes off or just get eyes on, report and then return? I am guessing you have at least one good mechanic in mind to bring along in case this is a truck."

Conklin considers his last question trying to remember if any of the folks he'd met said anything along the lines of auto mechanics. He'd honestly avoided or ignored most the folks he found himself living with. He wasn't yet used to the fact that he was now a part of a community. People tended to keep their distance without much encouragement from him. Being armed and acting rather stand offish was enough for most. Cherie being the main exception. He was still amazed the lady saw anything in him. Maybe he could ask Cherie if she knew anyone that could act as a mechanic if the need arose. He logged that away in the back of his mind with the thousands of other things he needed to do.

Snapping back to the fact that ed was still standing here patiently, Rob finishes up.

"Let me get my stuff together and I'll meet you in your quarters in say an hour or so?"

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #4):

"Yeah, that'd be awesome."

He puffed on his pipe, looking for all the world like a college professor.

"A couple things. We don't want to fight the Canucks over anything we find. Most likely, we're going to give it all back anyways to get a better deal, so don't risk your life for it. It's not worth it."

"Also, Tyler says they are going to try and do thing police-style, so that means a minimum of killing. Preferably none. Even if you got that peckerwood Cyrus in your sights. Maybe if he's raping a little girl... well, use your judgment, you know what I mean. We don't want to tip the Stickies there's something up, they are already keyed-up as is. Worst comes to worse, the government could use any information you can provide."

Ed shook his head. "Man, this is a little too much like 'Nam. Do a recon and risk your life, but it's only for an objective we're planning on giving up, anyways. I'm also basically telling you if this thing goes wrong this conversation never took place, and we don't know who you are. That's not far from the truth; if you get in the shit it's not like we can come in and get you!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:50, Sun 08 Mar 2009.

Conklin smiles at the Nam comment.

"Well I guess we both should be used to it by now.  Can't keep the ground you bleed and died to take. Can't kill the enemy your trained to kill and is trying his damnedest to kill you. Can't count on the cavalry to come save the day when your in the suck. Just like the good ole days. Well, good ole, ole, really ole days for you."
Conklin couldn't resist some good natured ribbing.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #6):

Ed coughed dramatically. "Yep, if I weren't so dang old, I'd paddle your behind with my cane!" In fact, there was less than a generation between them, as Ed was in his late 50's. Rob's father had been Ed's platoon NCO when the latter was a wet-behind-the-ears "brown bar" in the central highlands of Vietnam.

Ed took the radio. "Stay as long as you like, and yeah, we have a couple guys who are mechanics. Are you waiting for dark or going now?

GM Note: sorry, I couldn't seem to see where a timeline was posted or not. It's currently mid-afternoon, and raining hard.

In reply to helbent4 (msg #7):

Rob looks up at the sky and the heavy rain.
"I am hoping this rain holds through the night. It will help. I'd like a water insertion ASAP near the East shore. And if possible to have my ride waiting when I am done in the west shore of town or close. I can flash him a light to signal I  need a taxi ride."

Conklin figures if the stickies are drilling alot at night then they are sleeping in the day. Depending on the visibility due to heavy rain an evening insertion may be best.

"let me gather my gear and I'll met you in a bit. Gotta tell Cherie I am going fishing and stuff. Arrange for me a driver you trust if you can and we will speak more on details when in a bit."

Rob rolls his eyes with the Cherie comment and heads off towards his quarters.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #8):

Rob finished telling Cherie he was just doing some fishing in the evening. She had learned not to be too clingy and indeed was independent in her own right. She sensed that there was more to the story, but didn't want to push for more.

The sky was starting to get dark, and the rain didn't seem like it was going to let up at all. Ed met him at a quite corner of the compound, out of sight. It wasn't hard; everyone was inside due to the terrible weather.

"Okay, we can have the zodiac parked across the water at, ah North Vancouver. Signal using an IR light. I'll lend Chris and DeShawn my NVGs." They were two of Tyler's buddies from the VA hospital, fellow members of "the Herd", the 82nd Abn, and Ed trusted them.

"They'll drop you off, go to their laager point, then wait until 30 minutes before dawn to either pick you up or RTB. That will give you time to get back. At the laager point they'll keep their eye out for the train*, but it left a couple days ago so we think there won't be anyone in the area."

After it was dark, Rob met Chris and DeShawn at the dock. Not a lot was said as they loaded up and pushed off. Burrard Inlet had picked up a little chop, although there wasn't a lot of wind to really get things going. Rainfall on the water created a constant unheard background "Shussshhhhhhhhhhhhh.....".

They rounded the massive rounded hulk of the stern section of the capsized freighter.

It looked inaccessible, and on the surface it was. In fact Rob had been on many dives where he'd entered the scorched superstructure underwater, and entered the flooded passage that led to the one hold that was actually resting above water level. From there, he had made many trips to salvage the supplies stored there, mainly preserved food and some ammunition. These salvage trips had to be done at night to avoid tipping off the Sticken and others who would be equally interested in the riches still remaining in the shattered hold and in the bowels of the wreck. Still, it always gave him nightmares after, even thourgh he'd moved the pitiful scattered remains of the crew trapped belowdecks to an empty stateroom, then sealed the hatch.

After passing the lighthouse on Lighthouse point, they traveled past the open agricultural areas surrounding the structure known as "Lumberman's Arch".

Finally, they pulled into the outlet for the medium-sized stream.

It had been extensively improved before the war. There was a bridge for the jogging/bike trail where went over the stream at the mouth, near Burrard Inlet. Upstream for several dozen metres, the stream continued under a long shed-like structure that supported the road bed above. The concrete sides of the stream bed were wet and sloped, but passable. Railings lined the tops of the sides, and at the upstream end the creek issued from a wide echoing concrete culvert.

*GM Note: I forgot to mention, but for the last several months you've been observing what appears to be an honest-to-God steam train (lots of smoke, old-fashioned looking locomotive, some different passenger and cargo cars, including armoured security cars made from APC hulls) traveling back and forth on the tracks running along the North Shore. They use that roudabout loop to turn the trains around, and you figure they keep the locomotive and cars in the rail tunnel that runs under the downtown of Lonsdale/the Quay in North Vancouver, a little further to the east. They seem to make a major excursion up north every month or so. You haven't bothered them, and they haven't bothered you!

http://www.vancouvergames.ca/L...bid/284/Default.aspx

Conklin nods to Chris and DeShawn to turn the boat around. Conklin scans the beach ahead with his image intensifier. If he doesn't see anything to worry about, he places the image intensifiers into it's case and then into the WP bag from his sleeping bag. He had already placed his SVD, broken partly down to make it fit, and his MP5SD3 into the bag along with unused clips and his radio and pouch. He seals the bag and ties a slop knot to hold it. The bag should float his weight, but just barely. His Ghillie had been put on during the trip and he would readjust it once he was on land. He pulled his M9 from his shoulder holster and chambered a round  before putting it on safe and slipping a condom over the suppressor and sliding it back into place.

"Remember guys, don't go gunning the boat in or out of here. I will signal when I am getting back in the water. Give me about 10 mins and then just take just take it slow toward this inlet. I'll signal again if we are to far apart."

Conklin says under his breath and then slides into the water feet first. From the look of the Sat image it shouldn't be to deep here. He gives a thumbs up to the crew and hopes they will leave soon as he slides the WP bag under his chest and lowers himself onto it so cover it and provide buoyancy. He starts for the shore hoping to look like nothing more then a lump of seaweed or drift. His plan is to use the culvert if it's not closed off on the other end or trapped. If not then he'd have to do some climbing

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #10):

Under his black touque (a rolled-up balaclava) DeShawn signaled his understanding with making an "O" with his thumb and all fingers, divers-style. His face was hidden beneath camouflage warpaint, like Chris. It seemed that Rob wasn't the only one feeling cooped-up and caged-in on their little islet.

Even though the tide was coming in, his boots scraped bottom as soon as he dropped from the raft. He knew that around 2330 would be high tide, then go out at 0440 or so. The water was shallow enough that he knew he would be walking out over a dozen metres of seaweed-slimy barnacle-encrusted rocks (not sand) at low tide.

The low putt of the Zodiac's outboard started up several minutes later, giving him time to slowly put some distance if anyone was watching. Cold saltwater quickly soaked his clothing.

No one probably was watching, due to the rain, and vision was almost impossible in the pitch-black night. It wasn't like he never traveled in the Marine Corps (far from it), but he still noticed that although this wasn't Alaska it was relatively next door and due to the latitude it got darker, sooner, than what he'd known growing up in Texas at this time of the year. The winter days had been noticeably shorter, but likely the summer days would be longer in return.

As it was, he could just float/wade up the narrow channel of the stream's outlet, under the wide footbridge and into the underpass. At the far end, the 4-foot culvert was open and easily accessible, the water cascading down a series of wide "steps". The water pouring out echoed down the spillway and back up the culvert. There were narrow paths on either side of the spillway connecting to the bike/jogging path on the bridge at the stream mouth, and they mounted short open stairs to each side of the culvert at the end of the underpass, left and right. The end of the culvert seemed clear, but he could hear water splashing from inside, indicating obstruction of some sort. Climbing out wouldn't be hard, the sides of the spillway were concrete, sloped at 30 degrees and topped with a single metal railing.

Rocking with the slight tide, Conklin slowly made his way to the culvert. Once there, he removed his flashlight from his alice vest and, under his ghillie, put it to his chest and turn it on. Slowly tilting it until light peeked through to see if the red lens was still in place. Satisfied at seeing a faint red glow he turns it to the culvert interior and carefully scanned for anything unusual at the entrance. If nothing is seen he will slide into the culvert and try to get as much of is body out of the water as possible. If that is possible he will take out his MP5 and radio to make a radio check hoping the sound of the water will cover his sound.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #12):

Starting from the open water, the stream passed under a bridge for the foot/bike path. Then there was a spillway under an underpass for the road. At the end of the spillway was a culvert entrance.

From inside the culvert, the stream cascaded down some shallow steps into the spillway instead of just pouring out. The depth of the spillway was around 20cm deep. Rob couldn't figure out why there were steps (like a waterfall, sort of) leading up to the mouth of the culvert, because although there was a narrow pathway on either side of the spillway, it was all under the roadway above, not really visible.

He had a choice about which way to go.

The paths on either side of the spillway continued up narrow stairwells on either side of the culvert mouth, presumably to meet somewhere up on ground level.

The 1.5m wide culvert continued a ways underground, and he could see some debris partially obstructing the tunnel a few metres up. It looked like branches, nothing serious. He climbed up the stairs to the culvert through the cascading water. Inside the tunnel, the water was around 30cm, a foot deep, making it almost impossible to really keep out of the water as he had to move in a squatting crouch.

The radio check was fine, a little interference from the concrete, but he was able to contact the Zodiac and Deadman's Island.

GM Note: Be as specific as you like. The culvert is kind of hard to describe, and it has been a while since I was inside it. It's not that important; your main choice is to continue underground or climb up one of the sets of stairs to the surface.

It's important to note that while I like detail, I also want to move the story along. So, if you could post a general intended route and any other general instructions, I will assume that otherwise Rob has done this before and is acting with experience, skill and common sense. When it comes to a direct decision, well, that's where it could get tricky.
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:13, Tue 10 Mar 2009.

After retrieving his MP5 and radio he reseals his bag and slowly lowers his feet into the the spillway. Weapon at the ready he approaches the steps with caution. Stopping just before the first step he listens intently for any sound beyond the running water. If nothing is heard he will use his light to inspect the steps before slowly moving up on his belly. Every few steps he will stop again and listen and inspect the steps until he high enough to see the bike path. At that point he will stop and observe. If nothing is seen or heard he will inspect again with his image intensifiers. If no threat or trap is found he will slowly low crawl across the bike path into he tree line. He will again stop, look and listen. If his insertion seems unnoticed he will empty and stow his WP bag, put his gear in order and assemble and bag his SVD. With that done he will plot his coarse with his compass and proceed to his first objective stopping now and again to check for sound or movement and get his bearing on the compass. Moving as quietly as he can he will suppliment his ghille with local fauna from here and there. At the crossing of any trail, he will inspect his route carefully before slowly low crawling across. Otherwise he moves on foot. One hour into the movement he will find a good spot and check in.

[Private to GM: Ok here is my plan of action. Ok can't get to work here is a link. http://d-con.googlegroups.com/...eWZ37tPmenipPYsytFKQ
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Wed 11 Mar 2009.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #14):

Rob exited the spillway and climbed up to the bike trail that ran along the stream. He appeared to be unobserved, so he stowed his gear and moved out. It was about a half-klick to his first objective through thick forest, crossing a couple paved bike trails, now partially-overgrown. Most trees were huge old-growth evergreens of some sort: Douglas-fir, Western red cedar, Western Hemlock and Sitka Spruce. The undergrowth was fairly heavy but not too much to prevent cross-country travel.

It took around 10 minutes to walk the 500m. The forest ended at what once was an open green space where people once played soccer, threw frisbees, and so on. Now, large swaths were fenced-in and planted with vegetables (some of which the Stickmen traded to the the survivalists). It was still raining heavily, water dripping onto his heavily-festooned Ghillie suit.

He saw something moving by one of the fences about 30m away, accompanied by snorting and snuffling. It looked like a feral pig digging at the fencing, what he called a razorback back home.

Rob eyes the pig and grins, knowing the fact that pigs were around could mask his movements and sounds. He slowly turns and scans the trees around him for any that would give him a higher vantage point and keep him clear of the pig if needed.
He was used to pigs in his youth. There are feral pigs or wild boar, these are domestic pigs gone wild somewhere in the past and usually interbreed and there are two types of wild pigs in north america. Razorbacks usually in Appalachians and then collared peccary, or javelina to the Mexicans, in the southwest states. He'd hunted javelina and a few wild boar as a kid and knew they could be dangerous ,especially defending their young, but usually just left you alone. Their sight was horrible, hearing not much better but their sense of smell was amazing. Knowing he probably smelled like a giant salt lick with some evergreen mixed in was his main concern. He didn't want to shot the pig if it could be avoided and knife fighting a pig, although possible and he know how, was not something to do while trying to be stealthy.

Rob slowly removes his image intensifier and scans the area, taking a mental note of any buildings or vehicles and their lay outs. If more can be seen from climbing a nearby tree he will do so slowly and try to to break any branches. Once he's satisfied the fuel isn't here and if nothing unusual or important is seen he will move round the fields looking for cover to move west towards the civilian buildings he's seen on the maps.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #16):

Rob was unsure of the Stickmen's main line of defense. He knew the merchant convoy tried driving through the park from the city side, from the south heading north. He didn't know where on the causeway that bisected the western part of the forest they were stopped and destroyed. Probably let get all the way into the park before the trap closed behind them.

The beast near him remained unaware, the heavy rain and other smells masking his human smell. There was almost no wind, but it would eventually carry his scent to the porker, likely descended from a domestic pig.

Working his way around the edge of the treeline, Rob looked over the formerly open grassy area and could see neither fuel storage tank nor defensive works.

Working his way back through the heavy woods, he passed a long dark building that looked abandoned. Skirting some empty parking lots in among the trees, he crossed some trails and a road, being careful not to be seen.

The largest cluster of buildings in this part of the park were ahead, about a half-dozen structures. Some looked old-fashioned, like they were restored, and others kind of back from the road in the trees and the front of the park were more modern and utilitarian. In a large parking lot he could see some large vehicles parked under tarpaulins.

Conklin stays a while and keeps a close eye for any movement. He knows the Stickmen have been drilling at night and wonders what else goes on at night. He will have to verify the tarped vehicles to see if any are his fuel source but not before watching carefully. While watching for movement he scans for a good approach to the  area. Once a game plan forms he will start picking his way there being in no hurry about it.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #18):

He was about 100m east from Objective 2. The woods all around, not to mention the trees in between made it necessary to get in so close. The good news was with a little backtracking he could approach unseen via various routes to almost the road separating him from the buildings. There was about a 20m open gap he might have to cross, should he choose to do so, and there was no lighting anywhere. It was pitch black among the trees in the rain.

There were 3 vehicles parked in the parking lot, out in the rain. It was hard to tell under the dirty and somewhat tattered covers, but one looked like a van of some kind, another was a car and the third a pickup truck. There was nothing else obviously stored there. There were 2 large shed-like buildings with large doors that looked like they could possibly house other vehicles.

No one seemed to be around; if anything it seemed to be raining harder.
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:30, Sat 14 Mar 2009.

Rob move to where ever he has the best view of the parking area and then wait and watch for 15 more mikes then take the most concealed path toward the covered vehicles. Once hes near the open area he will have to cross will scan again for anything out of place. If all seems comfy enough he will sprint to closest vehicle and duck down near the rear tires and prepare to defend that position. If no contact make itself aware he will inspect what is under the first tarp.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #20):

He made it to the first vehicle unseen. One thing that struck him was how all the roads and the parking lots were covered with fallen branches and coated with needles and pine cones. It made low-crawling over open ground relatively easy, because when stopped he merely looked like not-particularly large fallen branch among the debris.

There was no one around. Under the first filthy tattered tarp, the van looked like something out of "Road Warrior". It was a rust-spotted Chevy Econoline van, with plates of "applique" metal armour crudely welded onto the sides, with vision slits cut into them. The tires were flat and it looked like it had been set on fire.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:22, Sun 15 Mar 2009.

After inspecting the first vehicle he will plan his route to the next tarped vehicle to maximize cover and concealment to the buildings nearby. Low crawling slowly toward the next vehicle he stops every now and again to check his surroundings. Once there he will again stand at the back tires and prepare to defend. If all is well he will check under the tarp and follow the same routine to the rest of the tarped vehicles. Once all were checked he will move back into the  tree line and radio in a sitrep while he watches his backtrack.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #22):

Following the same procedure as before, he discovered the pickup was a Ford F-150 that had been converted into a "technical" by the addition of armour plating around the cab and bed, and an MG mounted on a post in the back. The truck was also badly burned, and the partially-melted weapon (possibly a Dushka) looked like it was in poor shape, barrel bent either from the heat of firing or the flames that had engulfed the rear of the vehicle, possibly a direct hit from a molotov. The tires had also gone flat.

The last vehicle was a large car of some sort.  He pulled back the tarp and discovered that it appeared to be a cherry-red '69 Mercury Cougar Eliminator. The tires, from what he could see exposed at the back and under the cover at the front, were fat mag wheels with steel-belted all-weather radials, and so unlike the other retreads that were so common still held their pressure after months of sitting.


This message was last edited by the GM at 05:47, Mon 16 Mar 2009.

Conklin suppresses a whistle and gets back to business. He slowly heads back to the tree line and tucks into a good spot to watch his backtrack. removing his radio he  makes a low call to the radio's twin.

"Potsie to Ralph... Potsie to Ralph. No burgers found at store 2. Headed to store 3. Please advise if reschedule is made on the birthday party. Out."

Rob checks his watch and gives it 15 mikes of watching before heading east then south to Obj 3 staying out of sight and stopping often to observe and listen.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #24):

The rain kept coming down. The car's exterior seemed undamaged, if a little dusty. With a sigh he moved covered it and slipped away.

The radio check went well. Ed was listening, and when he began transmitting Ed broke squelch twice to signal he was receiving.

There was no one on his back trail, no one moving. It was around 0030 hours Lima, still raining hard. Still no sign of any fuel source. Looking out over the parking lot (to his west) Rob could see the hulks of a dozen other vehicles, these were stripped, pushed to the end of the lot to his right and left open to the elements. The nearest building was a large shed-like structure, with other buildings behind it. Trash and garbage was piled scattered around a medium-large building not too far away. Rainwater sluiced off the roof and from the rain spouts, splattering noisily on concrete.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:56, Mon 16 Mar 2009.

Rob eyes the buildings with suspicion. He preferred to keep a healthy distance from targets but time constraints were a serious issue atm. Resolved to get out of here by morning if at all possible, he picks a path to the buildings that will provide the best cover and the fastest possible escape route to the relative safety of the trees. He starts moving that way slowly and keeping eyes and ears open for movement and sound.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #26):

Again, nothing and no one was moving. He made it to the buildings at Objective 2 without being seen. Cover wasn't a problem, there was woods close by in almost every direction. At some point he would have to leave them to get closer.

Some buildings looked obviously abandoned, like the large shed-like buildings nearby the parking lot. There was a large building that looked like it was once park offices, some kind of shed, and maintenance buildings behind them. Across the compound from his position was a horse paddock, with some horses tied up.

GM Note: This is facing South, Rob is on the left side of the compound from this anlge. This is still at Objective 2; if he wants he can move to Obj. 3 immediately or continue the investigation here.

http://i209.photobucket.com/al...bent4/Objective2.jpg
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:33, Sat 21 Mar 2009.

Rob moved within the trees behind the building near the covered vehicles and tried to use the shed as cover to the obviously occupied building. He would make his approach here. B-line to the NE corner of the shed and then see what kind of entrance was available. He wanted to stay out of LOS to the occupied building as much as possible. He will investigate the building from the exterior if that is all that is needed and will enter only if something inside seems like it could be his target. If the shed is clear he will move back to the trees an move along them to the far eastern building to investigate it as well.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #28):

The shed seemed clear, filled with parks board supplies, grain for the horses, sawdust (for fixing trails?) concrete blocks and barricades. There was a slight rustling inside, possibly from rodents or the cats that hunted them.

In front of the main building's entrance, he could through see the night glasses a guard sitting cross-legged with a spear in his lap and a crossbow beside him. Possibly asleep, by the way he slumped forward, head on chest. A dog slept beside him.

Rob could easily cross back unseen to the trees, then south to the eastern building. The building was offices of some kind, most likely unoccupied.

Conklinheads back toward the trees slowly and uses the shed as cover to the dog and his master. Never discounting any weapon in the right hands, he had no reason to to doubt the man would use it if pressed. he'd seen men do horrible damage with simple tools. The dog worried him more then anything and he would have to stay doubly alert for them.Once safely back to the trees he scans the other buildings for possible storage areas. The fuel could be stored anywhere but he only had time to search the more likely areas before sun up.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #30):

It was only around 0130 hours local. Still, he didn't have time to waste. Rob continued around the perimeter of the compound, within the treeline and away from the sleeping guard dog and the horses.

The large most central building was obviously the only one that was likely occupied. A wisp of smoke rose from a chimney, a banked cookfire or a fire for warmth.

On the far side, in a kind of courtyard on the south side of the main building (formed by some equipment and storage shed), Rob struck paydirt. Parked there was a US Army M978 HEMTT fuel tanker truck and a 10-ton moving van.

That established, he was free to backtrack to Objective #3.




This message was last edited by the GM at 10:28, Wed 18 Mar 2009.

Rob looks around to get a good bearing on the trucks in question so he can remember their exact location when he returned. He scans the surrounding are again for any defenses or OP/LPs that might be seen. If nothing threatening is found he will slowly and quietly skirt the area by using the trees to get a better look at the trucks and if possible inspect them in person. He doesn't want guys dieing to get to an empty fuel source.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #32):

It looks like the Stickmen have made a half-hearted attempt to fortify the entire compound, but really only concentrated on the main building. The others looked like they were in the process of recent upgrades (windows recently boarded up, doors barricaded, loopholes cut into walls, construction materials like cinderblocks and wood piled nearby, etc.) but at best it was half-complete at the main building and barely started elsewhere.

Rob examined the trucks. The moving van had flat tires and the rear was locked. The HEMTT had flat tires as well. The fuel gauge reported around 2000 gallons of fuel remaining. There was a strong smell of kerosine near a manual spigot, as well as several plastic gas cans a boxes of dozen of glass containers (liquor bottles and jars) near a manual spigot.

With the fuel found and the main building scouted it was time to sneak away and head to his next objective. Somewhere along the way and in good cover he will radio in.
"Potsie to Ralph... Potsie to Ralph. Hamburgers found at store 2. Headed to check on kids meals. Will call for taxi. Don't wait up. Out."

With the radio call done Rob heads on to inspect the building housing the  women and kids.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #34):

He backtracked through the woods, crossed over the open fields where he'd seen the pig. Not too far was the old Aquarium, and he bypassed it to the north (going near to the Lumberman's Arch statue) to pass through a second belt of woods.

At Objective #3, a small shanty-town of sorts had been built on the field of a small sports stadium. It looked like maybe a dozen rude dwellings had been built from plywood and corrugated plastic and metal siding. Neat and orderly as possible, yet somehow makeshift and certainly not too comfortably, compared to the leadership cadre and their warm park building. Some had smoke drifting from metal smokestacks, but there was no smell of human waste or garbage strewn about.

Rob scanned the buildings trying to gather a rough number of people in the area and to see if there were any defenses set up to watch the area. He will move slowly through the treeline and try to get a 360 view of the area and it's terrain. Once he is confident on the defenses, general number of bodies and the lay of the surrounding land he will head back into the woods and radio in and see if there are  any further instructions.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #36):

The small stadium had open-sided covered stands over a cinder-block building. It was a relatively open design because of its small size with no real perimeter fencing.

Under the stands were what looked like storerooms and paired mens' and womens' locker rooms, washrooms and showers. (Likely the reason for there being no obvious outdoor latrines, also a good supply of fresh water for drinking, cooking and cleaning.) Depending on the actual size of the population present, pretty much everyone could fit in there and be prevented from leaving either of the two doors (one under the bleachers, one directly outside).

Although the area looked undefended with no defensive improvements to speak of, the stadium was on high ground of sorts. An observer on top of the bleacher roof could cover the immediate area, and even the fields downhill to the east almost to Deadman's Island.

However, there was a small parks building of some sort (which looked like a large renovated house, not an office block) on the SE edge of the field that blocked line of sight in that direction, but he had never observed anyone stationed in the house or in that area. In the other direction, W towards where the building/restaurant and outdoor amphitheatre where the Warriors were supposedly living, there were trees on higher ground that blocked line of sight.

Rob had seen enough to make a good assessment of how the operation should go in his opinion and hopefully Ed would agree. He headed back to the extraction while he milled over the intel he had gathered. He kept his ears and eyes open to sound and movement. Once near the inlet he will pack away his SVD and MP5SD3 in the WP but wait to close it until after he's made his radio call.

"Potsie to Ralph... Potsie to Ralph. Call the taxi now. Kids meals found. Been watching kids practice at football. Be home soon. Out.

Rob puts the radio and it's holster in the bag and secures it closed with air still in it. He again places a condom over the suppressor of his M9 and checks to see if a round is still chambered and that it's on safe. Ready to go for another cold swim Parks slowly moves to the waters edge a hundred yards from his entry. If all looks clear he will use himself as a backdrop and crack an IR chem light and wait a few seconds before heading into the water. he will again use the willie-pete bag as bouyancy as he slowly makes his way off shore.

If they follow his instructions he should be 10 mins out before they start in to retrieve him. If he hasn't seen the boat and he is a good long ways from shore he will hold the chem light up above him and wait to hear the sound of the motor for retrieval.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #38):

Due to the rain, the pickup boat missed him at first but saw him on the second pass. DeShawn, the lookout, finally saw him with his NVGs, put down his M16A2 and reached down to help him in. A few seconds later he was in the raft, shivering but safe.

Within fifteen minutes, he was back at the compound in the mess. Ed said, handed him a cup of hot chocolate.

"So, what do we have?"

Rob takes a drink of the hot chocolate and savors it's warmth for a few seconds then speaks.
"Get me a map."
Once the map was handed to his he starts his debrief. pointing out areas as he lists them off.

"The fuel is located in the middle of their main area here. Its a M978 HEMTT fuel tanker. There is also a locked movin` van near it that houses god only knows what. I found what looked like the vehicles that got ambushed near here. They had been fire bombed all except one. It looks in working order and is a cherry mercury cougar. Maybe Cyrus's I wonder? Anyway only seen one guard with a dog and they were both asleep. Rather more lax then I expected from them. But they prol`ly protect their borders heavy and their interior light. Good for me, bad for you and the Canucks. Saw a few areas that could hide MGs and cover a nice big area if you want to plant a few against counter attack. Here, here and here.
If they go to the trees this will be a drawn out deal. The trails are overgrown and if I had to guess they know then fairly well by now. So i'd suggest attacking at range from the tree line into the open areas. Their weapon shouldn't be to much of a match if we keep them at range and in the open.

The women and children I found here. In this old stadium. They've created a shanty town on the field. We can't hold them there though unless we want to dedicate a lot of manpower to it. My suggestion is to put them into the basement building under the stands here. It will keep them contained and out of harms way until this thing is over. I'd suggest bringing some food stuffs and water in case this goes longer then expected. Let your men know now. I want no playing with these people. If they fight, fire warnings then shot to wound, otherwise let them be. They are not really a part of this unless they want to fight with their men. But I'd guess, if treated decent and taken care of, they will be willing to avoid the dieing parts."

Rob takes another Drink and examines the map again.

"These buildings seem to be occupied. Depending on when you want to start this, before or after the Canucks make their move, they might be used by the stick men as makeshift forts or we can occupy them. If we go in after the shit hits the fan then I am worried about the women and children moving locations. If that happens our job gets a whole lot harder. If we can get a 5-10 man team inside just before the Canucks it will give us a big advantage on holding the stadium from the get go. Any vehicles we take needs to be fire proofed before hand. Foam extinguishers might work, if we have any, otherwise wet blankets should work. Pass that on to Tyler and the Canucks aswell.

As far as the fuel truck is concerned that will be tough depending on how the Stick men react to who ever attacks first. If they rush men to the area great if they are disciplined and hold there ground then bad. Overall i would suggest we hit our gate guards here just before the Canucks make themselves known. Hopefully this will drawn atleast some of their men toward us and away from their main defenses. While they are moving to us we secure the stadium or get close. Once the main attack happens, we can only hope, they move to the bigger threat. We secure the stadium and send out a party for the fuel truck and if we have the folks the moving van too. I'm thinking the guns are in there since it's locked and Cyrus and his cronies shun them but who the hell knows. Once the trucks are safely back in our camp we can help the Canucks if they need it. We have to prepare for retaliation though whether they win or lose this fight the stickies are gonna want to get back at us and they know where we are and that we are all held up on this rock. Hose down the buildings and set up some defensive positions to hold them off. Out biggest threat from them is numbers and fire unless they get over their aversion of tech when facing total defeat.

I personally would like to take out the gate guards here then move to an over watch on top of the stadium. Once that is secure I can go with the group to get the trucks then be static defense again once they are safely home."

Rob finishes up the hot chocolate and looks around for the source to get himself some more and lets Ed mill over the ideas he offered. While he's getting himself a fresh cup he offers one more piece of advise.

"If nothing else goes right we have to coordinate well with the Canucks or we can be in deep shit and fast."

Conklin sits back down and looks at Ed waiting for a response and wonders to himself if Cherie and his sister knew he was back yet. With that in mind he starts putting his gear back in order and takes off the rest of his ghillie and starts looking over his gear for any damage. He starts breaking down his M9 on the spot on top of his now empty WP bag while he waits.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #40):

Ed nodded.

"I'm going to see if I can get Ty back here to coordinate tomorrow. See what the Canucks have up their sleeve."

"Awright man, you take it easy now!"

Rob was rather confused at Eds response but shrugged it off for the time being to the time of night. With that in mind he'd better get some shut eye before the coming day. He reassembles his M9 and holsters it.

"Send for me if we learn more. I gotta get some sleep before this shit kicks off. Time to face the music with Cherie, she didn't buy the fishing story at all i don't think."

With that, Rob heads back to get some sleep, humping his gear with him. Once home he will explain the happenings to Cherie behind closed doors while he rinses and cleans his weapons and gear. he wipes and wrings them dry as best he can before draping them next to the fireplace to dry further. He asked Cherie to talk to his sister and let her know what to expect. She'd probably take it better from her then  from Rob. he then cuddles up to Cherie and tries to get some sleep.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #42):

Ed took the next while to debrief Rob before he went to bed on what he saw and his plan, marking his map and taking notes.

"Outstanding, Rob. We now have a great idea as to what the Stickies deployment is in our sector. I concur with your plan. Once Tyler gets here we can maybe plan a little better, but that covers all our likely objectives. One thing I don't like is if the trucks are outside in the rain, the engines may have trouble starting without some maintenance. I'll have to think on that a little."

He shook his head. "Seems funny, the Canucks have a lot of information about the Stickies. They must have an inside source of information."

Thankfully, Cherie was asleep when he finally lugged himself to bed. He was exhausted but oddly satisfied. He had done something he was good at and missed doing, and it was needed. Needed by him, or for the tiny community, he couldn't say as he fell asleep to the sound of the rain.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:25, Sat 21 Mar 2009.

Rob wakes to the sound of a closing door. Cherie was gone so he assumed it had been her. Sitting up he looked around the room in a slight daze. Wake up calls had always been hard for him outside the bush. he tended to sleep pretty hard when he had the chance. In the bush he only half slept, if at all, which made him all the    more tired when he could actually sleep well. Rob stands and puts on a new set of fatigues and heads over to the fire to check his gear. the weapons and smaller gear had dried nicely and he started CLPing them and reassembling. With that done he gathered a few new logs for the fire and turned his Ghillie and some of the other gear that was still damp to finish drying. As he was about to leave to go get some breakfast and maybe something warm to drink Cherie came back into the room with a   tray of some sort with some decent smelling food. After eating and watching Cherie straighten up after his weapon cleaning in total silence, he asked her to sit down for a second.

"Stop for a second and come sit down. I know you have something bothering you or you'd have already asked me about last night. Sorry I had to lie to you but it was better that way, not to mention safer for me. We are gonna be getting into some crazy shit in the coming days and we really needed to know what was out there. That is what I do. I don't mean to be rude but on issues like this I am going to have to lie or simply  say nothing at all which will probably worry you even more. I love you but that is just the way it has to be."

Rob put his hand on her leg and looked into her eyes for some sign of understanding or forgiveness.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #44):

She looked at him for a moment, then sighed and smiled sadly.

"Robert... Rob, it's hard to know what this is. Us, and for that matter all the people here. We're not "back home", this is our home, in a way. I love and support you, you know that. The front line isn't a thousand miles away, separating you as a soldier and the rest of us as civilians, it's a hundred yards outside my front door. I would like Ed to consult the people here more, not just the soldiers but the womenfolk, it's our lives, too."

In fact, three women were actually former soldiers. Two had been conscripted by he draft lottery that had been reintroduced in 1996, and one had volunteered to fight in the infantry in Alaska. Although the restrictions on women in combat positions had been officially eased in 1997 when the US entered the war in Europe a combination of tradition within the military and cultural elements without had kept women in combat positions to down to around 5% in most units.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:46, Tue 24 Mar 2009.

Rob smiles slightly and puts his arm around Cherie.

"I won't try to speak for Ed. You need to talk to him on some of these issues but for me, I understand the wolves are at the door and this is anything but a typical situation. One of the reasons we are doing the things we are doing is to change that situation. Some of us excluding the civilians in our chats is the fact that we want to shelter you from as much of this as possible.  The other, I think, is just simply old habits dieing hard. We know you are just as much involved and at risk as the rest of us. But if I can, through my experience and skills, secure even the slightest edge for this community I will. I'm not much for throwing my bones in the fire unless it's absolutely needed but sometimes that need does arise. I didn't bring my sister's family here just to get run over or run off. I have her, the kids and you to think of, not to mention the rest of this community. I think Eds a good man.Iv'e known him since I was a teen, talk to him frankly and he will at least hear you out."

Rob pauses a second and wraps an arm around Cherie and looks her in the eyes.

"As far as us... I am just very glad I could find an understanding women to love and care for and be cared for by. You are my companion. Its still a bit early to call it more. I am not much on the idea of normal marriage. To me it's just a piece of paper that says what two people already know within themselves. I don't need a judge or especially a priest or holy man to validate how I feel about you. But If that is your wish then let us get a decent home established and a more stable situation and we will can pursue that if its something you strongly believe in. We haven't know each other long enough to have a accurate picture of the other person and this situation doesn't make it any easier. You haven't even seen my bad side yet."

Rob adds a joking smirk to the last part but never breaks eye contact.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #47):

He returned his smile.

"I've lived with you on an island the size of a trailer park for over four months now, I wonder what kind of bad side I haven't seen yet? I think we should maybe think about getting married, but it can wait until after whatever is going to happen next, you know, happens. One thing, though, I'm an old-fashioned girl, I'm not going to ask you!"

"I just want you to know, I'm not judging you or somehow condemning you for being what you are or doing what you have to do. For us, for everyone here. It's not some abstract concept now, where you fight for the flag or for your country or honour or all that. The wolves really are at our door, and for that matter, I might have to shoot one myself! I hope not, but I would. I think. If you have to talk about it, or anything, I promise I will listen. I may not understand, but then, who but someone else who's been there too, could?"

"As for Ed, I was hoping to do the womanly thing and manipulate my man into passing on my concerns, but I'll be happy to do my own dirty work."
This message was last edited by the GM at 09:43, Wed 25 Mar 2009.

Rob listens to Cherie then speaks.
"We will see how things turn out after this and the coming months. If the Canucks are really serious about reinstituting law and order then I can see myself getting involved if needed. But I am just an old Marine. My skills and ideas are not usually suited to the civilian ways of things. As far as us.. When the time is right I will be doing the asking. I am not one to rush things as I'm sure you've noticed but once I act, I act with knowledge and conviction. It's my way."

Rob stands to turn his ghillie near the fire then turns back to her.

"I agree that this concerns everyone and all should have their say in the matter but I wouldn't put it past the stickies to have an informant among us. But I can talk to Ed about it. Depending on the time we have available, I would like to train some of the folks staying behind to help defend the building and grounds. I hope it won't be necessary but who knows.
As far as judging me, whether you do or don't doesn't make much difference to me. I've learned to get used to it... and used to solitude. You've open my eyes a bit to what I have missed out on. I hate the fact that it has to be in this place and in this time but then that's life I guess."

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #49):

She looked a little dubiously at the idea of an informant.

"Really? Informants? We've all known each other from back in the States, except for a couple folks that Ed met in the city and have joined us here. Anything's possible I guess, but I think I would trust everyone."

"Anyhow, wait here!"

She brought in his breakfast. Usually breakfast was powdered preserved foodstuffs they (well, really, Rob personally) had salvaged from the cargo hold of the nearby half-sunken hulk.

Today there were fresh eggs and bacon they had traded the Stickmen for. Also, Jam and bread that Ed traded for in the city with the group in the downtown known as the "Undergrounders". He didn't know too much about them, other than when he covered Ed on his trips they seemed to live, well, underground, in the underground shopping complexes and transit tunnels that honeycombed the downtown area.

"Tah-dah!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:56, Sun 29 Mar 2009.

Rob lets out a rare open grin.
"Wow where did you happen upon this stuff? Don't think I have aite this good in months."

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #51):

"Courtesy of the Stickmen, I think. It's good to eat something fresher than those MREs! There's fresh-baked bread, too, but that's from us, not the Stickies."

They had breakfast, then Cherie cleaned up. "I want to go talk to Ed, want to come with?"

Outside, the rain if anything was heavier than it was the night before, with gusts of wind blowing the rain sideways at points.

"Sure. I am hoping he has more information for me."
Rob grabs some of his dry gear and suits up before turning the gear that is still damp and stirring the coals in the fireplace. Still savoring the nice breakfast, he follows Cherie to see Ed.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #53):

Ed didn't seem surprised to see them.

Apparently, other members of the community had sensed something in the air, whether it had been noticing the increased traffic across to the Downtown, more trade with the Stickmen, even possibly observing or hearing about the activities last night. (Not the actual operation itself, but the fact people were up and around and coming and going at an odd hour.) Even the non-combatants had wanted to be better informed.

"Okay, let's have a, well, "town hall" meeting tonight. I think maybe people should be better informed as to what's going on around here, within reason. We should maybe talk more about the future, and that's something that affects us all."

Cherie was happy that there would be more open discussion now, although she was less than pleased when she sensed that Ed was still holding back from full disclosure about everything that was going on. As they were leaving, Ed stopped Rob.

"Rob, I gotta go pick up Tyler over in the downtown. Mind riding shotgun in the Zodiac? He'll be able to bring us up to speed on what the Canucks are doing and how that will affect us."

Rob nodded to Ed.
"Let me get some gear together and i'll meet you at the docks."

Rob turns and walks Cherie back to their room. Once he's done gathering his gear he kisses Cherie and gives her a weak grin.
"I'll be back with Tyler and Ed in a bit. Mind the fort while we are gone."

Rob then starts toward the docks checking his weapons and making preperations as he goes.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #55):

She smiled, obviously pleased at being let into the know about Rob's activities, at least a little. "See you later, honey... take an umbrella, it's wet out."

They laughed, it was almost a bloody monsoon outside. "Seriously though," she paused, torn between saying something obvious and unneeded like "stay safe" or "be careful". "I'll see you soon," was what she finished with.

The violent windstorm whipped the normally docile and sheltered waters of Burrard Inlet into waves into at least a couple feet high. Nothing really serious compared to the open ocean and within the Zodiac's capability (given constant bailing), but at least it meant that no one would expect someone sane to be out in the water.

Rob met Ed at the dock and they cast off in the Zodiac, rain pelting on their Gore-Tex rain gear. The small "lagoon" or inlet of Coal Harbour where Deadman's Island was located had also been the site of a couple large marinas before the war, and several float-plane companies had operated from wharfs across the water next to the downtown providing commuter service to Vancouver Island and many isolated communities up the coast and in the Interiour of the province.

They motored east past the now-empty wharfs and slips where dozens of planes and hundreds of private sail and power boats had once tied up, then past the burned-out Chevron gas station barge still anchored near the mouth of Coal Harbour. The small barge sometimes leaked an little bit of an oily sheen as it slowly settled into the water, still partially afloat due to intact floatation cells.

The massive Canada Place convention centre/cruise ship dock jutted into Burrard Inlet, its tattered fabric sails tattered and drooping in the rain. Swinging out past it into the middle of Burrard Inlet on a northerly heading, they were most likely hidden by the rain from all but the most diligent telescope-equipped surveillance on the south shore, and Ed kept going north across the Inlet until they were relatively near North Vancouver. They were increasingly buffeted by the winds and rain crossing the inlet and Rob used the hand pump a little, but it was nothing serious.

After continuing east along the North Shore for a while Ed steered them back south towards the Port of Vancouver (on the south shore to the east of the downtown) at moderate speed. Their destination was just short of the abandoned container port, at a small park. Ed received radio contact that Tyler would be waiting at "Portside Park" and he confirmed that the area was clear. They put in at a small wooden wharf and Tyler jogged out of the cover of some bushed by a small house-like Parks building. He stepped aboard the Zodiac and greeted his dad in a curt manner, setting his CAR-15 Commando beside him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:20, Tue 07 Apr 2009.

"Hey, Dad. Rob. Good to see you again."

He was dressed in US BDUs and a rain poncho.

Rob nods as Tyler gets in and continues scanning the shoreline until they are safely away from the beach.

"Nice to see you as well Tyler. Hope the trip was fruitful but we can discuss that once we are home and in better surroundings."

Rob goes back to looking into the haze of rain for threats.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #58):

On a nice day, it would be a ten-minute round trip. In this weather, detouring to practically the North Shore, going west, then back south to Coal Harbour, it took over an hour and a half.

They finally tied up, soaked and exhausted. It was around 1700 hours, and the community meeting would be starting in an hour.

"Well, this is different. In the war," he meant the Vietnam war, of course, "we either didn't trust or like the civilians too much. Either they were surly and hostile, or friendly and therefore Vietcong spies. This is going to be different."

They walked towards the main building, where Ed kept an office of sorts.

"Ty, what do you got for me, son?"

Once they were inside and drying off, Tyler reported what he knew.

"The plan for us is the same, we secure the non-combatants."

He used the map in Ed's office to show them the plan.

"The Canucks have their act together, they have a mole in the Stickies feeding them information. Their plan is to arrest the leader when he visits the Biker's brothel downtown, off his turf. Then go in and arrest everyone because there's no replacement for the "Dear Leader", Cyrus. They don't want to kill him, that might just disperse his followers in the city, make him a martyr."

Tyler sipped some powdered hot chocolate.

"Should work, they've been practicing. If surprise doesn't work they got the firepower to go in and clean the floor with the Stickies. Over a hundred Militia and cops, a few armoured vehicles including a LAV-25, and a BMP and BTR coming across the bridge from the North Shore."

"They think they can do this with minimal casualties, maybe none."

Rob follows the two into the office and listened. Once Tyler had stated the plan he   decided to chime in.
"Well does Cyrus have a normal time he goes to this brothel or are we to stay on standby until that goes down? Going during this weather would be ideal. they used a lot of fire with that last defense. This weather would mask the movements and help against the cocktails."
Rob pauses a moment then continues.
"Getting out of here and securing the women and children in the stadium will be tough if the Canucks don't want any loss of life. unless they plan on snatching Cyrus then announcing to the stickies the facts and letting them make the choice. If that is the case we could be in a very dangerous spot. The Cunucks won't be in a position to protect us or act as a distraction and we will have lost the element of surprise."
Rob looks from Ed to Tyler for answers and waits.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #61):

"From what they were saying, once Cyrus is in custody they will hit the Stickies with everything they have, and they should fold without a leader. If we think we're going to be hung out to dry we can always ask for support. They got a mortar, they could position it to give us fire support."

Tyler shrugged, sipping his hot drink. He looked good, with a new haircut, shave and clean-if-patched BDUs.

"'Cause the Stickies are a gang and not an Army unit, once their top leader is in jail a gang will be paralysed for a while, unable to react. They were saying the lesson of Waco was because the ATF went in when Korresh was there, he could immediately react by rallying his people and bunker up when the initial assault failed. Korresh did leave the compound and was vulnerable then. The FBI did that to another cult leader in the 90's before the war, some cult guy I never heard of in Georgia. They picked him up at the store, and his people didn't put a fight."

"The Canucks plan is to hit them from both sides, from the city and across the bridge, breach their defensive lines with armoured vehicles equipped against Molotovs."

"The plan is to go in, not stop. If they surrender, fine, if not, they still outnumber the Stickies and they got guns while the Stickies don't. The cops will try and take prisoners, to a point."

"If we don't play ball, we don't have a lot of options. They could use that mortar on us, although I don't think they probably would. They might deport us, and right now the military in Washington won't look too good at my desertion."

Tyler drained his mug. "Cyrus visits the whorehouse every Friday. He might go sooner if something or someone he likes gets brought in. He stays all night, comes back in the morning. Our source will let us know when he's going, that'll be when we grab him, on his way back in, early morning. The HAs probably won't intervene, but they sleep until noon anyways."
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:47, Fri 10 Apr 2009.

Rob laughed a little at his own distrust.
"Ok, that sounds better. I just didn't want them nabbing Cyrus then using a bullhorn at the causeway saying 'hey, we are coming in lay down your arms' then giving them a few hours to fortify. Sorry but I don't know these folks and our  asses are swinging in the breeze if we screw it up.
I've done some scouting and found their fuel source. I also took a look at some of their buildings but didn't stick around long enough to get specific details. Most of the old trail system is overgrown and there is plenty of places to hide. The stadium is where most the women and kids were and I think we can coral them into the area under the stands there and keep them out of harms way easy enough."

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #63):

Ed shook his head at Rob.

"No, you're right to ask these kinds of questions, don't second-guess yourself. We need to keep our eyes open, not take things on faith. I think it'll be a good thing to get rid of the Stickies, and we should only be involved with the Canucks if they are going all the way. No "containment" or "limited objectives" or other BS like that. I'm not eager to see anyone die including women and children, I had enough of that in the war, but you are absolutely right that if they pull back and try to wait the Stickies out then we'll be hung out to dry behind enemy lines."

The grey-blue sunlight from the window filtered into the office, glinting off the polished brass of various nautical artifacts and the model ships. This had once been the Sea Cadet commandant's office, and it was decorated with framed historical and current detailed nautical charts of the rugged British Columbian coast, rocky and forested islands and fjords, mountains and reefs. There were also framed prints of a privateer schooner out of Halifax harbour raiding US shipping off the Carolinas during the War of 1812, native canoes surrounding a frigate of the Royal Navy exploring the wild untamed BC coast and a Royal Canadian Navy corvette sub-chaser struggling through massively heavy seas of an arctic gale during the run to Murmansk (according to the small brass plates screwed into the bottom of the wood frames).
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:03, Fri 10 Apr 2009.

Tyler snapped his fingers. "Hey, come to think of it they were going to deploy their sixty mike-mike mortar here to support their operations. Rob, didn't you find some munitions and stuff on the ship? Wonder if there are any more mortar rounds on board?"

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #65):

Ed replied, "Yeah, well Rob and I been through that ship. Found a lot of small arms ammop. mostly five-five-siz NATO, no shells or weapons other than the Ma-Deuce, and we didn't find any ammo for it."

He picked up a pen from the desk, clicked the end a few times in thought.

"Maybe if we have time we can look in one of the other holds. It's an all-night job, it'll leave Rob and I totally wiped out."

"So otherwise, what are the Canucks plans? Not just for the next week, but long term?"

"What are they going to do? Secure the city, of course."

"They already got this program going, they're documenting all the people in the area they control, all resources too."

"Eventually, they want to control the border with the US and the routes to the north and east of the city as well. Criminals like the Hells Angels been getting drugs and guns from the US, and deserters and mercenaries been coming down from the north and from the east."

"I think the Angels aren't going to fight them directly, but maybe keep their heads low try and subvert the city government once it's reestablished, put their men into the police. Stuff like that."

"Once the Stickies are dealt with, they want to secure the Airport. There's a major gang that operates outta there, charging a toll on the river traffic which has to pass by."

He snapped his fingers as he remembered something.

"Upriver there's a fair city remaining, out in one of the suburbs. Can't remember the name, offhand. But there's a Russian nuclear sub parked there! Not a boomer, but an attack sub. Docked at the pier, looks like the crew's trying to repair it or something. The Canucks are concerned but it's not too high a priority because they don't seem to have taken over the city or anything, and they're not flying Soviet colors. Could be deserters or defectors, but that's something they gotta find out."

Rob listens intently but shakes his head at the mention of the mortar.
"I don't like the idea of the mortar in our compound. It makes us a target once it's used. Remember, we have a guard post just outside our gate. They could easily hear that mortar firing and that means we are a major threat and a target. Most of our fighters will be moving out to round up the women and children. They won't be many here to defend. I don't mind checking for ammo for the Canucks but I would rather them not know where it comes from. That ship is our major food supply and I'd rather it stay ours. We also have to work out how we are going to get the fuel truck. Especially if the stickies surrender quickly."

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #68):

Tyler looked a little ambivalent at this. He looked over at Ed.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #68):

"Sure, I can buy that. Planting the mortar here gives the Canucks reason to be invested in our survival, and I would think taking out any guards would be the first step, but I can just as easy see if they will put the mortar elsewhere and still be able to support us."

He thought about the truck question.

"Hard to say. It would be nice if we could just drive it out of there. I still have to talk to Darryl, our mechanic, a little more about that truck before I get an answer if that's possible."

"With that muscle car, it'll take a little maintenance to get it going, and if it's cherry we can assume the former owner took good care of her (no AAA to bail you out!). Not much, but you can't just start her up and go, either. We can replace the battery with one of ours that's charged, and we need to remove the spark plugs and squirt some oil into the cylinders so they don't seize. If it's only been six months you won't have to replace everything, at least not right away."

"We could get the car running in less than a half-hour, maybe 15 minutes. If the Stickies aren't too observant in their own backyard, we could do it under their noses. Same goes with the truck."

He grinned at Rob and his son.

"I know it's just a car to you guys, but man, I love old Detroit rollin' iron! Had a '70 Mustang fasback after I rotated home from Vietnam. Man, I loved that car. Anyways, I'd like to see if we could get our hands on it. It'd be worth a lot, and heck, we don't have a lot of transport as it is."
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:55, Mon 13 Apr 2009.

"Taking out our guard was my first priority but if the Canucks want this to be bloodless then that's gonna get a whole lot tougher. As far as the truck, what I meant to say is,when are we going to go after it and how. Once the Canucks arrive I would guess the stickies are going to mass in those directions. We can rush the stadium, secure the civies and then move a smaller force on to capture the fuel. My main worry is that the Canucks want this all peaceful like and we are going for a flanking assault into the heart of their territory. Not terrible peaceful although taking their fuel storage is taking away their most destructive weapon and that's how I'd word it to the Canucks if it comes up. We all know they like to use fire. Imagine that truck used as a mobile fuel bomb rolling into a compound.
I got no problems with taking the car as long as it's not gonna slow us down much. I'm sure it's valuable if you could find a decent trade for it. But I'm doubting your gonna want to trade it. I'd also suggest taking that moving truck that was locked. If I was to guess that is where ammo and weapons are stored or something else Cyrus didn't want his folks having."

Rob shakes his head as he thinks more on it.
"I like this a whole lot better when it was more a military operation. I'm not for killing civilians but most of those boys gave up that protected status a while back in my book."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:04, Mon 13 Apr 2009.

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #71):

Ed shrugged. "I don't know why they want to do this as bloodless as possible. It's their country, who knows?"

"As for the truck, We could go at it a couple ways. Let's talk to Darryl in a bit, see how quickly we can move the truck(s). Might be tough to move them around. If it seems too difficult, then we may have to simply grab what we can, like fill some fuel cans, stuff like that. If conditions are favourable and the area is deserted, we may get a chance to do some maintenance and drive them out of there. If the Canucks insist, sure, I'd be satisfied with the car, but in the end I don't want to take any more risk than we have to."

"Why not observe the guard, see if there is some vulnerability we can exploit? If we get the drop on them, and they refuse to surrender, well, no one can say we didn't try!"

Later, before the group meeting, they met with Darryl, a mechanic. He was a black man from Seattle, DeShawn's father and a longtime friend of Ed, altnough not a veteran. "Sure, I could get the car going within 15 minutes if all I have to do is replace the spark plugs, assuming there's no other problems and the hoses don't need to be changed. That fuel truck? If its a diesel, then there are no spark plugs to replace, and maintenance is a lot simpler. We'd need to replace the heavy-duty batteries, check the hoses, fuel and hydraulics lines, and if it's got central tire-inflation, then we could get it moving within minutes. The moving van's probably diesel as well, but if the tires are flat then we could move it but they'd need replacing after.

Rob knew both vehicles had flat tires, which could complicate at least moving the van.

Rob nods to show he's listening then chimes in when it seems Darryl is done.

"Both vehicles had flat tires when I observed them but it's not to far of a drive getting them back here. Do we have a compressed air tank around here somewhere? I'm sure we can rig up a O2 bottle to due the trick in a pinch.

As far as the moving truck goes, I am just interested in seeing what's locked up in there and getting another vehicle is never a bad thing especially something with that kind of load capacity. If we have some bolt cutters or even a good hacksaw will work if we have the time and the vehicle isn't going to cooperate. See what you can come up with on those fronts Darryl and get back to us. We still have to work out how we are going to roll in there while the Canucks are playing good cop a the gates and get away with it all."

Rob looks over at Ed.
" We all have a meeting to attend to at the moment though."

In reply to Robert A. Conklin (msg #73):

Darryl replied, "we have the compressor for SCUBA diving when we raid the wreck for salvage, we could rig up some 72 or 80 (cu/ft) tanks to re-inflate the tires."

After, the meeting started. Ed outlined the situation in broad terms. Most people seemed to want to go along with it for various reasons. There were questions along the lines of what Rob raised (mostly from the veterans in the group) and Ed gave basically the same answers. He did keep the existence of the trucks close to his chest.

Of the forty or so people present, there were still a few reasonable concerns about their safety. Ift was agreed that one condition was that they would evacuate all children and women beforehand at any rate, and the government would promise to relocate them all to some place safe in case things went wrong. However, people were a little unclear what they should ask for in exchange for their help (even if things went well). Most wanted to be left alone, and Ed suggested that as once the park was secure (according to Tyler) it would be the main route for trade to North Van and travel north along the coast, as it was the only remaining bridge north across Burrard Inlet. They could open a trading post here, maybe even be hired to police the park and the trade route (although that would require hiring outsiders.)

Rob's sister Allie brought up that his neice, Cheyenne, was sick and getting sicker, beyond the medical capability of the people there to treat or even diagnose. Other health and dental problems were cropping up as well. At the least, these needs could only be met by mutual cooperation.

After the meeting, Tyler talked to Rob.

"Hey, I think I'll go back and hook up with the Canucks. They told me to call them for a ride back tonight. You wanna come along, see for yourself what the deal is?"

Outside, the rain continued to ease off into a light shower. Still unpleasant to be out in, but not nearly as bad as before.

Rob nods to tyler's question.

"Sounds like  plan to me. Not that I don't believe you but I do want to go over the  recon I did with them and see what their plan is going to be. Let me gather up  some gear and talk to Cherie. If you would, let your father know and we can get on our way."
Rob heads back to his place to gather his gear and break the news to Cherie that he was going again.

0200, Monday 16/04/2001

The weather took a turn for the worse, again. Rain poured down and thunder rumbled, although the monsoon-like lateral rainstorm of the previous day was thankfully missing.

Due to this, Ed decided it was safe enough to risk a trip by a larger boat than a small Zodiac, especially because the trip would be out into less sheltered outer water than the harbour areas inside Burrard Inlet. This time, they took the Zodiac a few minutes out into the middle of Burrard Inlet, far out of sight of anyone lacking sophisticated night-surveillance equipment. After signal by IR light, they were met by a larger "whale-watcher" Rigid Inflatable Boat (RIB). Still open, but a lot more stable and faster. Like Ed, Rob and Tyler, the crew wore NVGs. If was difficult to tell if they were wearing uniforms under their raingear, but Rob suspected they were cops instead of militia due to their professional manner, gear and radio traffic. ("10-4" instead of "Roger", etc.) After pickup, Ed took the Zodiac back to the compound.

Ten minutes after pickup they were pulling into the marina at the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club. The somewhat exclusive-looking establishment looked like it had a security upgrade. There were a few sentries and it was enclosed by fencing, sufficient to deter looters and burglars but nothing a determined attack couldn't easily go through. The luxurious and well-built Yacht Club itself looked in good condition and there were over a dozen boats docked in the jetty-enclosed marina or on trailers on shore. Half the water craft were Zodiacs, with a couple small and medium power boats, with a couple each of 15 foot and 30 foot sailboats. There was even a luxury 60-foot yacht was tied up there.

A couple men met them on the dock. One was in a yellow RCMP rain-slicker, the other was an older bearded man in a GORE-TEX rain coat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:31, Sun 19 Apr 2009.

The older man stepped forward to greet Tyler and Rob. The mountie waiting with him on the concrete wharf helped the others secure the RIB.

"Hello! I'm Alain Belanger, Provost of the community at UBC. Tyler didn't mention your name over the radio. Glad you both made it!"

"I'll give you a lift in, come on, let's get out of the rain."

He pointed to a soft-topped civilian Land Rover idling in the parking lot.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sun 19 Apr 2009.

Tyler introduced them.

"Oh, hey, this is Rob Conklin. Rob, this is Alain Belanger. Sort of the security and intelligence chief for the University. He works with the intelligence unit the government has sent here."

He grabbed his gear and weapon, and moved up the wharf to the Yacht Club.

Rob is average height and rather light framed to be carrying so much gear though he shoulders it with practiced easy. He carried what looked like mostly US issue gear. Below the poncho he wore were a few notable lumps and he had a long rifle bag slung over his shoulder. His weathered and tanned face told a story of a life time outdoors as he studied Belanger intently before extending his hand in friendship.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Belanger. You can call me Rob or Gunny will get my attention easy enough. Old habits die hard it seems."

Rob shoulders his gear and weapons and after taking a quick look around, will motion for their host to lead the way.

Tyler and Rob schlepped their gear up the wharf to the parking lot. As they put their stuff in the back, Belanger got in the driver's seat. The Land Rover was in good running condition, even if the patched fabric top did leak in the heavy rain. There were no weapons visible, but Belanger kept a fairly watchful eye on the dark city around them.

The drive to the campus perimeter was quick and safe, and the defenses were elaborate. There was double chain-link fencing topped with razor wire with a road in between the fences, and Rob guessed there were regular patrols. The entry checkpoint was was well-marked and covered by three bunkers in mutually-supporting positions. Signage proclaimed this federal government property and warned against looting and carrying weapons. Rob and Tyler weren't looting on one hand, and no one asked them for their guns on the other.

Once through, they drove for another few minutes through forest, then Belanger dropped them off at their billet, a pre-war low-rise student resident housing block.

"Okay, guess I'll see you guys at morning briefing. 0800 hours. Tyler knows where it is!"

"Thank you, sir!" Tyler said to Belanger, shaking his hand, then picking up his gear.

"Okay, let's hit the sack. I'll show you where."

Rob shoulders his gear and follows Tyler to the billet. Once inside he unpacked nothing besides to unsling his weapons and lay them at the side of his bed. he kept his MP5 at across his waist knowing full well it probably wasn't needed but then this wasn't his compound and an error on the side of safety was never an error at all. He layed down and half slept in most of his gear like he had so many nights before but this time with no stars or night's sounds to greet him. He longed for Cherie's warmth beside him which unnerved him more then a little. Luckily, he'd had some decent sleep the day before. As he was about to dose off he muttered a phrase.

"Night john boy."

Ed had always tried to get Tyler to watch The Waltons with him.  In the nearly complete darkness, Tyler smiled as he stared up at the ceiling before drifting into the sea of sleep.

"Good night...Grandpa," he said in such a way that a listener could almost tell he was smirking.

"...What kind of name is Zebulon anyway?" he said much quieter.