..Hmmm.....What time is it?....Hmmm...

Taras just awoke. He was in his bedroom, the drawn curtains didn't offer a clue about the sun position and the nearby alarm clock was still out of focus due to the slumber.

I will sell my kingdom for a coffee. I really need one. Nobody was listening but he felt the need to make a loud statement. He switched on the stereo. The last few months of solitude and adaptation were mostly soothed out with a make up collection of classics. Thank Goodness this type of treasures were more than often discarded in scenes of the initial lootings that took place right after the evacuation of the city and the chaotic weeks that followed.

Where did I put the milk?

The room layout was reminiscent to that of a cheap hotel. A coffee machine was always handy for the occasional cup of java. Vancouver was a rainy city and the prospect of sacrificing yet another set of dry clothes for just a brew did more than justify the purchase.

Hmmm...yeah...Felix!The first notes were already reverberating through the loudspeakers. The "Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra" of Felix Mendelssohn still sounding that fresh, buoyant, eternally sweet spirited work. Probably the best loved violin concerto ever written and therefore easy to find even in the threshold of an apocalyptic world, discarded in a demolished backyard.

This music sometimes makes me cry...

In spite of the effortlessness of its invention this Concerto had an unusually long and painful gestation. From the first sketch to the final score, it occupied the usually facile composer's attention for the better part of six years. Taras hoped that the score for the restoration of normal life in the city would take less than that. The initial overtures were coming in the form of fast and shiny operations. Exactly like the fist movement of Mendelssohn violin concert:

Allegro molto appasionato ...Indeed!

Sipping the freshly brewed coffee Shevchenko tried to figure it out what would be the tempo for the incoming operations. He flipped the printed art work like trying to read a weekend edition horoscope: "Andante" would be next. A walking pace.

A typical performance lasts just under half an hour. By that time Taras already decided to contact Belanger. He picked up the phone:

Hullo?...Yes! This is Taras. I was thinking about a briefing for the next operations once all of our people are well rested...

Wednesday 18 April 2001

The consolidation of the Park was completed quickly throughout Wednesday. The wolves were separated from the sheep. All the upper tier leadership were in custody, except for Jasmine. No one in the Stickmen knew where she might have gone for sure, although a couple women commented that they think she may have had some involvement with a man who fit the description as the renegade American sniper, "Brownstone". For the most part, the Stickmen were resigned to seeing what happened next, or glad to be out from

The team was awake enough by early afternoon to gather for a quick briefing. While the Uni had enough structural engineers to examine the bridge and causeway for soundness and pinpoint needed repairs, they waited on Taras to clear the newly-secured MSR (Main Supply Route) of possible mines and booby-traps.

Word was getting around about the requirement for water transport, but it seemed the best place to acquire that would be New Westminster, the largest intact municipality and a centre for river trade. Scouts were infiltrating Sea Island but it would be a few days before information came back. The gang that had a technical and operated out of the Metrotown area still threatened the alternative route between UBC and New Westminster down Kingsway, although SW Marine seemed clear enough. The HAs were laying low, and surveillance indicated their members were starting to steal away from Brandi's in ones and twos. There was no sign of Brownstone and his group of mercenaries.

One thing that was brought to their attention was the water level in the Fraser River was still increasing due to the increased rainfall and unusual snowpack melt on the glaciers that fed it. In a month or two at most it would be enough to start topping over or even collapsing the levees and dykes that normally kept it in check. Most seriously affected would be Richmond and the airport (which were not true islands but reclaimed land), followed by low-lying areas of Delta and Surrey.

Angela showed up to give them the bad news.

"When you first arrived, we believed the overall key to reclaiming the city would be restoring telecommunications. We believe YVR (the airport) is almost untouched based on the lack of scavenging done by the current occupants and our lack of access. It will be a key source of materials, and could speed up our efforts considerably. However, if the levees surrounding the airport fail, YVR will be inundated. It will be potentially catastrophic for our efforts, or at least a serious setback, if we are unable to secure and salvage YVR before this potentially happens."

"I understand the efforts to secure water transport are in service of this end. As well, if the river rises to a dangerous level, people will have to be warned. I'm glad we're working in the right direction, and this is just additional information to keep you informed of our higher objectives, and to underscore that time may be running out."

The airport can be ours in seven days max. That's not a problem. At least from a military point of view.

Taras Vladimirovich Shevchenko, as an ex Officer of the Red Army was well aware of the strategic value of the airport and contingencies for operations were already around his mind for awhile. Other concerns were more pressing:

The first battle that we have to win is that of the allegiance of the city of New Westminster. Without the support of the Survivalists and the North Shore we couldn't probably had a smooth takeover in the Park. Without the help of the Chinatown neighbours some us wouldn't probably talking here, including myself. Without the help of New Westminster we will be in a more complicated position against our target

Taras knew that the attention of the public was already won but they would demand more explanation as the silent room was already enquiring:

Is not that they are so much a necessity from the use of force. We just need a minimal support of troops to cover a flank or so and provide us with some extra sealift capability. The rest is mostly up to us and I have no doubt that we can prevail easily.

The smart use of alliances was already bearing good fruits. Cooperation over senseless fight seemed to be key for the progress.

I suggest to invite an official delegation of the powers of New West to come over UBC to deal over this issue. We have an I.R.O.N. program to offer as well as the liberation of the airport with the elimination of those infamous "taxes" that they have to pay. We can also use the resolution of this problem with the bandits as a token for their support. Seems like historically this town has been quite dependant on trade and so far they appear to be quite surrounded. We can definitely help.

If we can count with their support  the airport will be taken in only a few days as I said. Now a word about the Hell's Angels. The current strategy is working. They are kept at bay and slowly moving out from the territory under our control. But like the rats, they will start fighting as soon as they feel surrounded. Our best ally is the locals. They can see for us, they can report to us and help us to root them out. Of course we will keep on infiltrating them and using all the means to protect society against this scum.

He made a pause to grasp some air. The presents were probably trying to digest the information the best they could. He took his notebook to help his last exposition:

The next operations will focus on the recce of the airport. This is already on its course including our sniper team. I will personally will be heading the clearing up of the Main Supply Route. The RCMP will be trusted with the counter-surveillance mision against the overwatch in downtown detected yesterday. Rachel will be leading this effort supported by the radioelectronic team of Kelsey. On top of that I will request Khandola to provide a platoon of the militia to be trained as Military Police. In the next 24 hours I will summon a meeting with Captain Bezhov, Sargent Bulat and a representative of the West Vancouver Police force to plan for further operations. Our friends the survivalists will be also invited. I will put the issue of the formal meeting in the good hands of Angela and our Council and I offer myself as a part of the mediation process. I believe there is a substantial presence of russian sailors over there due to the unsuspected visit of a tremendous rocket launching submarine...

 He always felt like he was missing something after coming back from a mission, he looked around the small space that he had the few things he had brought with him from the compond, the few pictures he had of his father and mother sitting on the well worn chest of drawers in the corners.

 Muttering a few well choice words of blame about the world in general as he rolled to his feet and the sight of several small bruise's on his body brought yesterdays mission into sharp focus once more, of the hard stares of the leaders once they had been captured and the eyes of the prisoners in that large soccer field that looked like a deer in the headlights of a car at night.

 Come on old man, he growled to himself as he got to his feet and slipped into the pants next to him. with a sigh he checked the weather outside the window and finished dressing.

 He did wonder if the officer would want a futher debriefing for those who went on the raid, he chuckled lightly as he thought of last night and how it worked out well. Scratch one would be gang off the list, with a humorless chuckle, Only a thousand to go.

 Slipping his rain coat on he heads for the mess hall.

 After breakfast he wasnt ready to being back inside fourwalls again so he turns and makes the walk down to the river and the small flotilla of boats berthed there.

 He spends some time just talking to those assigned to the harbor and watch about the river and how fast it was still rising.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #5):

Having been up most of the night with carrying out the takeover of the park, then being debriefed, his breakfast had come in early afternoon. The cafeteria was down the street, and half-filled with UBC militia and RCMP Auxiliaries also groggy from the previous night's activities. There was an atmosphere of joviality, shared by the distinctly hippie-looking serving and cook staff. The food was excellent, fresh eggs and bacon, fresh-squeezed juice, even some coffee (although only one cup).

Tyler checked in on his girlfriend Sonja, who (like most of the locals called the "Survivalists") was thrilled to be off their tiny, fortified island. One of the requirements for allying with the government was evacuating all the non-combatants from Deadman's Island (aka "HMCS Discovery") in case things went south and the Stickmen retaliated against their neighbors. The government had come through, swiftly evacuating everyone from the island before the operation commenced, and Tyler and Rob had helped Ed getting everyone moving. After that, it was simple to head over to the Brockton Oval stadium and secure the Stickmen's own non-combatants, who went peacefully into the crowded but safe changing room areas under the bleachers. After all, they'd been told many times by Cyrus if the pigs or army attacked, then their blood would be on the government's hands, like Waco.

In the aftermath of the securing of the park, Tyler and his fellow survivalists hadn't been able to secure the cache of goods the Stickmen stolen from the travelers they killed and looted from convoys they attacked, like fuel and supplies. But the cherry '67 Cougar that was found under a tarp in the parking lot behind Cyrus' HQ. Tyler, Rob, and Tyler's vet friends pushed that motherfucker all the way back to Deadman's Island. The government hadn't said anything and Provost Belanger, the head of UBC security, had hinted that there wouldn't be a problem.

Currently, Tyler was near the Musqueam Band Reserve, where the mouth of the Fraser river met the souther edge of the mammoth UBC grounds. As such, to get there Tyler had to ride his ATV a fair ways from campus down Southwest Marine Drive, past the forest-screened Wreck Beach (still a clothing-optional ocean beach), skipping the turnoff for the TRIUMF complex (Tri-University Meson Facility, the world's largest meson-research establishment), past the vegetable gardens and newly-planted citrus groves that once were manicured lawns, golf courses and landscaping around the campus buildings and university lands.

Still, much of the university lands were preserved as a natural rain forest, what was known as west coast temperate climax growth. Thanks to the abundant rain, thickly-grown evergreens lorded over impenetrable brush and undergrowth, where patches of sunlight permitted.

Trees were all around the turnout that overlooked the mouth of the North Arm of the Fraser River. The wide forest-lined boulevard here seemed a little excessive for the needs of the university, until he was informed this was a federal project, part of the government's pre-war plan to make UBC a node for disaster-recovery efforts. Bunkers dating back to WWII had been reopened and expanded, stocked with supplies and electronics. At the edge of the federal UBC Endowment Lands, near the Musqueam lands, there was now a gate and series of concrete barriers and block-houses, the main access point controlling access to the uni's grounds, now surrounded by double-width perimeter fencing.

Standing beside his ATV and facing southeast, Tyler admiring the fishing boats (mostly Musqueam but also Faculty/UBC resident) ahead of him, moored off the end of Iona Island at the mouth of the Fraser's North Arm. To his right was the direction of the campus, to his immediate right was wreck beach. To his left were the Musqueam Reserve lands, abutting the southeast corner of UBC and looking like normal well-to-do suburbs, which before the war they were.

Beyond flat Iona island was similarly-flat Sea Island, otherwise known as YVR, the International airport. This apparently was the team's next objective, according to the ruling Committee of the Faculty. He could just make out the terminal buildings and the control towers (new one and old one). Taking the airport by force would be difficult, as it was large and flat, without much in the way of cover or concealment save a few rare scattered stands of trees along the northern riverside, and some residential areas on the south side.

Tyler received a call on the radio. He recognised the voice of the RCMP dispatcher. "Tyler, this is dispatch. Are you on campus? Please respond." Naturally, many non-military types didn't seem to have a lot of radio discipline, and although the RCMP detachment here did it was often hard for them to reconcile his quasi-civilian contractor status. Mostly, they talked to him like a normal person.

 With a sigh as the call broke into his calm spirit and the peace of the river flowing oceanward, Stepping back over to his ride, his eyes sweep the immediate area nearby out of habbit and training for anything that did not belong there.

 Tabbing the comm button, Tyler here, and the answer is no but not far away if needed. he was reluctant to give his location without a secure channel.

 His eyes drifted back to the airport and wondered if a air drop might work faster and the surprise more complete?.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #7):

Tyler's concern of radio intercept was well-founded. He was literally in line-of-sight of a potentially hostile group out at YVR. Andy, the team's Master Sniper, had mentioned he suspected there was an OP located in the new control tower, noting the reflection from possible field glasses or a spotting scope during recent team activities at the nearby Musqueam-owned Celtic Shipyards.

Their scant intelligence suggested that the Billy Goats included former military personnel assigned to airport security. The eggheads of the Faculty community included a lot of nerds slavering over the potential for YVR's high-tech salvage, so there was obviously plenty of electronic equipment to use, given the expertise. It was within the realm of possibility that this group included technical personnel who could rig some kind of radio-intercept and direction-finding gear.

The reply came, "okay, someone wants to talk to you. You want to meet them at Rits House (the team billet) or your location?" Dispatch knew he was still on UBC grounds, as to exit he would have had to pass through either the main checkpoint on nearby SW Marine or the newer one closer to campus. The checkpoints and OPs established for perimeter security were linked by land-line, and checking the records would have been easy.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:43, Fri 16 Apr 2010.

 With a tired longing to rest a bit more he sucked it up and answered, I will move to the base and meet at Rits to make it easier for all. Out.

 With the sun sinking to the west its light had begun to dance on the water he had heard an old indian man say one time and wished he could have stayed to dark and watch the moon come out.

 Firing up his ride he turns it and guns it back the way he had come down until he arrives outside the billit.

 Grabbing his jacket he moves on inside to see what the brass has planned for their welcome home party.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #9):

All the ground floor rooms at Rits house had small vine-covered patios. To save tune, Tyler took the ATV up the rear path to his billet (apartment), a dirt track normally used by the workers who tended the vegetable field planted in the sports field behind the residence. He entered the glass sliding door to the patio. Tyler was armed with his Colt M1911 sidearm, but his Commando and Garand were in a closet in the next-door billet, under lock.

Waiting for him inside his billet was his father, Ed.

Ed looked tired by happy, dressed in surplus woodland-pattern BDUs with an 1st Air Cav patch sewn on his arm, shoulder holster empty. Like all other civilians who weren't part of the UBC police or militia, or a contractor with the DRI (like Tyler and Rob) Ed had to sign over his sidearm when entering the UBC perimeter. Ed didn't look like the stereotypical Vietnam vet (not the least because such stereotypes were largely false) and instead looked like what he was: a greying middle-aged balding business executive in glasses, with a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. With a suit, a haircut and shave, he would be indistinguishable from any other corporate executive.

"Tyler, great to see you, son! Things went really well lat night. Rob was telling me his step-daughter's now in the UBC hospital and will be going in for surgery today."

He motioned to the front door, grinning. "Come out and see what we fixed up. Outside!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:41, Fri 16 Apr 2010.

 A little surprise but pleasently by the surprise, pausing to hug his father before stepping back he glanced with suspicion at the invitation into the next room.

 What are you up to old man?. he said with a smile on his face, he didnt think Joan was in the neighborhood and it wasnt his birthday that he could remember.

 Wait a sec, he steps over to the wash basin and rinse's the dirt off his face from the ride back before stepping into the other room.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #11):

The day was cool but clear with washed-out blue skies. The tap-water was fresh and cold, and felt like an electric shock on his face. One thing he'd found out about the water in this city was it was clear and pure, and in fact he'd been told it was glacier-fed from a reservoirs in the mountains to the north of the city, then piped into the city via tunnel under Burrard Inlet. It certainly woke him up a little!

After he was done, Ed led him out through the corridors to the front door and parking lot.

Outside was parked the red almost cherry '67 Mercury Cougar that Rob and Tyler had rolled from Cyrus' HQ to Deadman's island.



"Esteban fixed 'er up. She was sitting for a long time, but she's running great now!"

He held out a set of keys, the ones that had been in the visor for almost a year as the car sat idle. "Want to borrow it for a while? It's got more style than the ATV! I have other transport for now, I figure you can make better use of this than me. Full tank of gas. Well, alcohol!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:51, Fri 16 Apr 2010.

 A little stunned at seeing it sitting there and with the offer to drive it, he has to slowly make his way over to the side of the car and run his hands along its roof,
 Have they drove her yet?, she is a beauty thats for sure to survive in the cold wet north, kinda like us both are survivors.

 Openning the doors he slide behind the wheel and noticed right away the look of the oversized steering wheel common in those days. With a touch of nerves he slides the key into the ignition and turned it over a couple of seconds and listened to the engine running. He could see the Tac idling along at 300 rpm and touching the throttle brought the rpms up quickly.

 Habit made him check the clutch and brake to be sure all was still solid, before shifting into first and slowly getting used to the feel of the car.
 Finally 15 mins later he is back with a little better show of handling the car.

 Turning her off he slide out and moved to his dad, Still got a kick for running with booze. Its a beauty, whos is next to take a spin?.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #13):

Hearing the almost subsonic rumble of the engine, Mac came out to watch. He was waiting in the parking lot when Tyler returned.

"Yeah, man! I'd love to go for a spin. We can take it down to the Rez."

The Musqeuam reservation was down the wide forest-lined boulevard from the UBC campus, but to get onto the rez itself would require going through the main checkpoint.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:53, Sat 17 Apr 2010.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #13):

The car handled nicely off the mark, with 5-speed manual and front disc brakes, dual exhaust and the 351 Windsor engine powering it smoothly along. People stopped and stared, waving and smiling.

There was a Kenwood sound system, with a 10" subwoofer. Someone had left a Steve Miller Band cassette in the tape deck, and he listened to some Greatest Hits as he drove.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v...aynext=1&index=2

Returning, he saw some people waiting for him, including Mac, the native (Indian) guy who was a part of the team.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:05, Sat 17 Apr 2010.

Coming out of the building, Rachel looked impressed at this beautiful piece of automotive technology.

"Hi, Ed! Tyler. Mac."

She walked over. "Christ, that's a beauty. Funny, I thought there was one like it in the hands of the Stickmen. Seems to be gone now. Oh well!" Pointedly, she didn't ask for the registration, or anyone's licence. Not that any of that was likely available!

"Look, we have a meeting in 10, with Taras and Angela." One was the team's tactical commander, the other the community leader.

"Let's wrap it up and head inside, eh?"

She was dressed in her normal RCMP patrol uniform of yellow-striped pants, grey shirt under a RCMP/GRC windbreaker, hat with yellow band.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:24, Sat 17 Apr 2010.

 With a nod to Zhang, he whistles and points to the garage for the car, Locking it up he joins the others and heads off to the meeting.

Andy finished his run and exercises and then showered and changed for the morning meeting. He walked over to where the meeting was going to be held and sat down to arrange his notes ready for the meeting.

Kelsey steps out of the same building maybe a minute later, slipping her glengary onto her head, using two fingers automatically to position it 'just so'.  Her hair is pulled back tightly and breaed down the back of her neck, not really long, but this puts a professional air to the CAF NCO.  She is wearing her garrison uniform with neat aplomb, the bright tartan of her kilt offset by the more severe standard uniform shirt, tie, and jacket above, and by the garishly bright calf height stockings below.

She stops a moment to smooth the kilt, her eyes on the Cougar.  "Now that's a car!  That sounds like you..."  A pause as she listens intently, concentration playing across her face, her normal impish look subdued.  She didn't look her age, truly, probably something to do with the amount of smiling she does, and the genetics that had made her more cute, instead of truly pretty.  "Oy!  That sounds like you put a bigger cam in the 390, right?  No way that is the stock 289!"

A slight grin and nod to Rachael as she pulls even with her "Can I see under the... oh, were you guys talkin work?"

Under the vigilant gaze of Belanger, once the noise in the room came to a halt, ex senior Lt. Taras was given the turn. Exchange of pleasantries after the previous operation were now thing of the past and the look on his face was all business.

I intend to conduct a swift attack to destroy the Billy Goats and minimize our own casualties. Speed, tempo and a coordinated combined arms effort is the key to victory. The first phases of our operation will be deliberated and rehearsed to the extent of possibility, the latter will depend on the mission, terrain, time and enemy reactions. We will conduct a deliberate river crossing through the Musqueam reserve. Once the breach is done and supported by artillery I intent to defeat the enemy forces coming from the West towards the terminal rapidly, with a reinforce mechanized platoon to take over the airport in a fast moving battle with agile forces supported by fire. Maneuver will be of utmost importance and combat support will have to catch up fast. I'm not intending in taking big pauses. We must strike hard, repeatedly and finish quickly.

Once the Commander's intent was clearly stated Taras took some time to explain the war plan strategy and tactics:

Without the benefit of a clear intelligence picture on the enemy I am willing to go ahead with this plan based in a North Vietnamese concept of operations called "Blooming Lotus" for use in urban scenarios:<i> whereby the defences along the city’s perimeter are avoided and instead fast moving units are driven into the city centre, from which the critical C2 nodes are attacked and destroyed. The lotus then
blooms outward, defeating the perimeter defences piecemeal.

The defenses we was referring to was the OP's and checkpoints located over the bridges that connected the island with Vancouver and as well as Richmond, etc. From those bridges a tax is being tolled over suspected or unsuspected travellers.

Before the operation takes place a possibility of surrender will be offered, of course. It is imperative an economy of force and respect for property integrity after all. If this cannot be achieved by peaceful means, then we will have to fight for it.

Taras took a sip of water before continuing withy the exposition of his plan...