In reply to Alice Mary Mercredi (msg # 13):

"She's a beaut, eh?"  She grins.  They had served together before, though that was before Kel made sergeant.

"Get those drivers checks done, dinner is on the way and it's Mac that is cooking so I have great expectations."

She pats the old rock station sticker, though she was not greatly familiar with that one.  She listened to a lot of C-BON, back in the day, preferring information while driving over music, talk radio.  It had been at 88.1 in Sault Ste. Marie since she was a girl, coming online around when she was 8 years old, she had been enthralled by it and it had started her own love of radio, even if it sometimes worried her parents about her listening to adult oriented content, she was a big sister and felt the need to be more adult regardless.

"That stays."  She says softly, with a smile, then louder she says with a larger smile. "En avant la musique, va être rock'n'roll !" and laughs.  (More or less, kinda.. off we go, let's rock and roll).  For some, nearby, that might be the first time they have heard her speak her native tongue, but it hopefully won't be the last.

With that she climbs up familiar runs and checks out the commanders seat, and then the radios, disappearing within the Coyote.

After the greetings and exchange of bureucratic formalities regarding the materiel Taras couldn't help but enquire about the presence of a large soviet submarine docked at the Fraser River, not too far downhill from the armory.

The Lone Star Runner had started life as standard M1008 truck from the US Army, but after it's purchase by Ravenwood Defense Group, it had gone through several less-standard evolutions, finally arriving at it's present state; lightly armored, the bench seats on the left side of the bed removed for stowage, extra tie-downs for baggage & the most obvious modification, a pedestal mount for crew served weapons, currently mounting an M2.  The bed (and the space behind the seats) was crowded with an assortment of gear; a rolled up camo net, tools, bags, extra weapons and cans of fuel, water and ammo, all properly tied down, ready to roll.

Eric himself was average height & average weight (at least prewar average), brown hair & hazel eyes.  Most recently Rachel had seen him dressed in his undercover persona of Will 'Tex' Green; faded blue jeans, cowboy boots, red & black flannel shirt and buckskin jacket, Stetson hat and an obnoxiously large enamel-painted Texas flag belt buckle.  He had that outfit packed away in his gear on the truck still, but today he was dressed in his war-clothes.  Slightly faded but serviceable flecktarn fatigues, hiking boots, plate carrier, PASGT helmet, flight gloves, chest rig and the other basic accouterments, along with his .45 caliber Glock and a suppressed C8.

"Yeah Rach, I got a spot for ya.  We gotta pick up another stray on the way though; just FYI.  And apparently his livestock too.  Matty should be bringing the rig around shortish."



It was only a few seconds before the rumbling diesel of the truck was heard quietly, even through the walls of the building as the matte OD green monster was parked outside, magnetic RCMP Auxiliary signs in place over the flat black stenciled RDG logos.  Matty seemed a good enough kid; green, just an armored car driver from RaD-G who was, probably, getting in over her head.  But there was a lot of that going nowadays.  She had a lot to learn about nearly everything, but she could drive a truck at least.

"Let's roll Rach." he said with a smirk, pulling up his balaclava to hide his face, at least until they were out of places someone might recognize him.

From there, it wasn't much of a drive to the Red Cross, and the Father was made obvious by his collar and even more obvious by his mule.  Eric vaulted the side of the truck bed jsut as Matty brought it to a halt, and walked over to the clergyman, his hand extended.

"I assume you're Father Schmidt?  Needed a ride out 'West?" he said with a smirk behind his face covering.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:38, Tue 04 Aug 2020.

In reply to Eric C. Wright (msg # 20):

In the passenger seat was one of the Mounties that Father Nick had seen around. They had not been introduced formally but she'd been in the clinic with various officers. She eyed the mule, with an amused expression.

"I'm Rachel. Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot of good things about you! All aboard for New West."

Corporal Stan Abbot walked out of the school with his rifle, field pack and a large duffel bag and headed straight for the 10 ton, his assigned vehicle. He set his pack and rifle down by the front tire and then tossed the duffel over the side board of the truck on top of the already full load of cargo. Climbing up the side of the bed, he pulled and pushed the duffel into a spot where it would not get launched out of the truck if they hit one of the many large potholes that were found in what passed for roads these days.

Stan jumped down and yelled across the parking lot at MacDonald who was cooking dinner.

"Hey Mac! Did you get all of your gear loaded? I don't think we're coming back for a while."

Thomas waited in the Humvee while  the paperwork was exchanged, "Some things never change even in the apocalypse." he thought as he watched the exchange. He had taken the time to stow his gear in the vehicle he was driving with the short barrelled L1A1  or whatever the Canadians called it, sitting against the door.



-

"Stan, Mac is cooking us a fine feast, you mind policing up our billet and making sure nothing gets missed?  I'll give you an extra set of hands if you want them.  Oui?"

She grins, shrugs slightly.

"Non, sergent.", Stan answers back with a bad French accent, poking fun at the Quebecer a bit.

"I'll take care of it.", he said as he loaded his rifle and pack into the cab of the truck and then went back inside to their billet.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:21, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

'Father Schmidt'... that was a name he hadn't heard for a long time from someone not of the cloth. How surprisingly refreshing in a way, yet strange. He looks to the driver;

"Yes child, I'm Father Schmidt, though you may call me Father Nick. I've been called that for quite some time now by my congregation. He pauses as he looks to the truck. "That is a fine vehicle, and should fit Bucephalus quite nicely for our travels westward."

He then turns to Rachel, was her name, "Peace be upon you child, it is pleasant to meet you. Always nice to hear that my good reputation travels before me." He smiles and then turns to Bucephalus.

"Come along now girl. You need to climb up on to the back of the truck. No need for worry, I'll be with you all the way."

After a little coaxing Bucephalus gets onboard. The logistics of getting a mule, even if docile, up on the bed of a pickup truck is never easy.

"Pack my kit? Nope, but it will only take me a couple of minutes," Mac called back. He was thoroughly enjoying himself cooking up a meal for the team. Hey, if they liked it maybe he could become the team cook. He'd rather cook than do some of the chores that fell the way of the junior guy!

At least he'd learned the lesson of personal admin well. Most of his stuff lived in his bergen or his webbing, only coming out when needed. It would mostly mean collecting his wash kit and whatever socks, underwear and shirts had been being washed, and stuffing them in.

This message was deleted by the player at 21:07, Wed 05 Aug 2020.

In reply to Father Nick (msg # 26):

With the help of a removable metal wheelchair ramp propped up on the Chevy's tailgate they loaded up the mule and Father Nick's bags.

"Ok. It's about 25-30 kilometres to New West, through Burnaby. At normal speed that should take us about a half-hour, 40 minutes.

"The main route people take is along SW Marine, which was a designated Disaster Response Route before the war and is now a Main Supply Route (MSR). It follows the river and once we leave Vancouver and get into Burnaby it's mainly farmland and lowlands with a lot of undeveloped wood lots.

"The alternate route is down Kingsway, which is along a kind of ridge that goes all the way to New West. It has been heavily built up over the decades. I read it was actually the main throughfare into town before the freeway. The city grew up around it so aside from shopping malls and apartments, shops and fast food restaurants you also have some older relics like drive-in motels, car dealerships and car washes that are usually more on the outskirts of a city."

Eric waited patiently as the priest helped his mule up into the crowded bed of the truck, smirking behind his balaclava.  He helped the Padre with his baggage, such as it was, and once the mule was onboard, lying down and as 'secured' as she could be, he walked up to the cab for a moment, and had a quick pow-wow with his driver & TC; making sure everyone was on the same page about route, actions on contact, recovery plan and bail-out/E&E plan.  That completed, he hopped back up into the bed, taking the spot on the single bench seat closest to the cab (and the .50 cal).

"It's supposed to be a pretty quiet drive, but if we catch contact, get as low as you can in the truck bed, keep the mule calm & don't get between me & the crew-serve ammo." he said, pointing at the cans of .50 belts.
"If we gotta bail out, you stick to me.  Rach & Matty go one way, we go another, and we'll meet up later.  Hopefully."

Even seated, he kept his C8 on him.

The Armoury,located at 530 Queens Avenue (at the corner of 6th Street) in New Westminster, British Columbia was the oldest active wooden military structure in Canada. It remained the home of The Royal Westminster Regiment, an infantry reserve regiment. The wooden structure was one of the few buildings to survive the great fire of 1898. Although it was a single structure it is referred to as "The Armouries" by members of The Royal Westminster Regiment. In addition to the parade square the building housed the Regimental Museum, offices, quartermaster store room, Officers' Mess and Warrants' and Sergeants' Mess (the Junior Ranks' Mess is housed in the adjoining building).


Looking for a hot cup of coffee or what could pass for it the man from Odessa end up in a rather small but cozy corner. Shania Twain was filling the air asking:

,Whose bed have your boots been under?
And whose heart did you steal I wonder?
This time did it feel like thunder, baby?
And who did you run to?

Say, last time I hear there was a rather big submarine parked along the Quay in the Fraser, any news about the sub and the crew>

Taras was aware than a class "Oscar II" by the name of "Kursk" had jump sides and deserted to Canada. Like the salmon running up river, the majestic vessel had ended up in New Westminster. He thought bravely of the Captain and crew that decided, as himself, to step towards freedom and never look back.

Eric/Father Nick

Taking the primary route to New West, they started out through the checkpoint in the fenced perimeter closest to the mouth of the river. The technical was waved through immediately by C7-armed guards. Zig-zagging through the exit lane they finally left the crowded but orderly zone around UBC and entered the partially-deserted city. Off to the right several armed technicals were parked guarding the entrances to the Musqueam First Nation reserve. Manning the sandbagged positions were young Native men and women, armed with M16A2s and AKMs, dressed in surplus US Woodland camouflage fatigues, Kevlar vests and LBEs. Before the war this was a neighborhood of rich riverfront homes and even larger homes with horse-rearing paddocks, plus a small shipyard on the river. The presence of these resources meant the members of the Musqueam band were doing very well for themselves now, providing horses and small boats for the government enclave and other customers throughout the city.

The shipyard was back in business after being flooded during the massive meltwater "tidal wave" that had come down in the spring, spreading destruction all along the river from the airport (YVR) on Sea Island at the mouth to as far up as they knew. The water level was now closer to normal but there were still large ares that had flooded and couldn't be effectively drained on their own after.

Driving at a relatively safe 60 km/h the first leg led them down SW Marine Dr., a wide prewar throughfare. Travelling east, the river was off to their right. This close to the river it was mostly warehouses and industrial areas on the south (river) side of SW Marine, and somewhat run-down single-family dwellings (once abandoned, now partially-occupied) on the north side. Near the LaFarge concrete plant they passed buy a merchant convoy of two horse-drawn wagons and a horse-drawn food truck ("Juan Fer's Fajitas!" on the side) escorted by four riders armed with 2 bows, a crossbow and a double-barreled shotgun. The merchants waved a friendly greeting in passing. They couldn't stop as they were heading to the UBC government enclave, hoping to make there and set up it before evening curfew. (Curfew had been relaxed inside the secure zone but the gates were still closed to non-official traffic after dark.)

SW Marine was a smooth ride, having been cleared of any wrecks, with damage from the war and (especially) the many potholes filled from the massive gravel piles around the LaFarge plant. However, about 2/3 of the way there they came across a roadblock manned by four Militia soldiers. It was at the junction of SE Marine Way and SE Marine Dr. just short of Boundary Rd., the dividing line between Vancouver and Burnaby. (Past Burnaby was New West.) At this point SE Marine Way went down a hill to the right, while the older SE Marine Dr. continued straight along the high ground. This was an underdeveloped part of the city and there were woods on either side of the wide 6-lane throughfare.

A fluorescent orange sign from some city works department directed:


      <-------- DETOUR

ROAD CLOSED DUE TO FLOODING


One of the militia (from the Westies) flagged them down."The low ground part past here is all flooded out for about five kilometres past here, almost all the way to the Queensboroough Bridge. It'll take us a week to pump it all out and clear the roadway. Not too deep but you can't see anything in your way and you might get stalled out if you go too fast. You'll want to take SE Marine Drive all the way to Southridge, then that turns into 10th Ave. Checkpoint into New West is at 10th and Canada Way."

Team Main Detachment (Kel, Taras etc.)

In New West the standoff was accomplished smoothly. They were still waiting on their new personnel to arrive from UBC. Part of the route, the lowest part closest to the river, was washed out and flooded to at least a couple feet depth. They were arriving now at the detour, it would take them another 10-15 minutes to complete the trip.

In the mean time they were offered some coffee (black or with cream/sugar).
This message was last edited by the GM at 08:28, Thu 06 Aug 2020.

Kel takes the coffee with both cream and sugar.  She wasn't sure where Taras was at the moment (Apparently he is at a cafe?) but in the meantime she would be glad to accept that coffee, with plenty of cream AND sugar, because you didn't know when your next source of any of the three would become available.  Coffee itself was a treat, the only thing in the list that was sustainable was the cream.  Who knows what their source of caffeine was going to be in the future.

"This new boat not bad is it?  I am sure that Alice and I will put those electronics to good use, Darek should be thumping on the main gun, as always."

Once they cleared the the town, Eric slipped off his balaclava.  Now that they were out of the crowded areas, there was less risk of him compromising his undercover persona.  Being outside the town also meant he got behind the gun, watching his surroundings even through it was allegedly a safe zone.  He waved to the passing merchants, the food cart reminding him of how long it had been since he'd had decent tacos.  They made decent time, up to the pre-mentioned detour.  He raised a hand to wave, and they quickly exchanged a few few shouts about the road conditions up ahead, then carried on their way, Eric keeping his position behind the gun as they carried on.

Mac popped up (must have smelled the coffee).

"When do you want your food?" he asked.

"I take my coffee straight, thank you."

Kelsey will snag a cup of 'joe' for Mac and point to the creamer and sugar.

"Enjoy it while you can."

"Mac, we got some people should be here anytime now.  Can you stall so that we can eat together?  Always nice to meet new folks over chow."

"Sure can, Sarge. Thanks..."

Mac took the cup and drank it with evident relish.

Stan finished policing up the billet, he double checked under every bunk, closet, and drawer to make sure that they did not leave anything behind.  He placed Mac's gear next to the door of their room and went out to report to Kelsey.

"We got everything.  Mac's gear is piled up next to the door.", he said.

"Hey, where did you get that coffee? Smells good."

"The coffee fairies came to bless us with their divine... " She chuckles.

"Nice lady with mess came by with a nice big pot, cups, and adds.  She was sort of like a fairy godmother, though, in all the good ways."

"Pull up something under your third point and enjoy some Stan, imagine that Mac is a lovely woman cooking you dinner at some fancy restaurant."

Stan poured himself a cup with a bit of sugar and drank slowly, savoring the rare treat.

"If I'm going to imagine Mac as a lovely woman, there better be some whisky in this coffee."

Mac had a fit of the giggles.

"I don't know about a pretty woman, but maybe I should look for a chef outfit if this is supposed to be a fancy restaurant!" he said when he'd got his breath back.

Eric/Father Nick:

With the newer SE Marine Way flooded, they detoured to go down the older SE Marine Drive. Marine Drive was a narrow 2-lane road along the hillside. Side roads were infrequent.

This part of Burnaby closest to the river was under-developed, with plenty of wood lots uphill to the left and lowlands (mostly farms and a driving range, now flooded) down on their right hand. There was little to see, mostly trees on the hillside side to the left and flooded farmland in the lowlands on the right. Notable was that many of these farms had vegetable and fruit stands along the road, and some had fruit. People waved as they went by. Again, small arms were rare with bows and crossbows predominating supplemented by a handful of civilian hunting rifles and shotguns. Another notable location was the Iscon Hare Krishna temple, again on the downhill side. There was a large vegetable and fruit stand there as well, meaning in drying times it also was a farm. The saffron-robed darker-skinned people manning the booth were unarmed and waved as they drove past. Rachel said, "too bad we can't go along Marine Way because of the flooding. The temple has a 20-foot statue of I guess Krishna out by the road. Swear to God."

Before reaching Southridge drive at the end of Marine Drive they came across a corner grocery store-turned trading post, again with more fruit and vegetable stands outside. Next door was a small gas station with an unfamiliar name, "Fox Gas". They seemed to be running a still of some kind judging from the heavy smell of fermentation and pall of smoke rising from in behind the building. A 1980's era Plymouth Grand Fury in blue-white RCMP livery was getting fueled up at the pump and the uniformed Mountie in an RCMP/GRC vest nodded to them as they rolled by, as did a guard armed with a pump shotgun. There was a radio antenna on the roof and apparently a generator.

</Blue>
Matty, the driver, said, <Blue>"You know, before the war, looking at the map we would have probably taken the freeway, even if it was less direct. But the Trans-Canada passes by Burnaby Mountain. It got nuked due to the Chevron and other refineries all around its base and the freeway is still badly damaged in that area, blocked by trees, debris, burned out vehicles. Believe it or not this way was faster."

At that point they were on Southridge Dr. climbing up towards the checkpoint on 20th St. and the border with New West. Rachel used the truck radio to verify where the team was located and discovered they'd already finished their business at the Westie's armoury and had returned to base outside the New West perimeter. Consequently they avoided entering New West proper, bypassing the checkpoint, and continued along heading towards the team's current base in a prewar high school, Cariboo Hill Senior Secondary.

Main Team Detachment

Having completed their tasks at the armoury, the team grabbed some coffees and hit the road for the quick trip back to their base. This time after they passed through the checkpoint on 6th st. and 10th ave. they continued straight up the hill. There was a strip with some occupied houses and businesses here (India Bombay Bistro, Arwaz Hookah Lounge, Baba Sweets). There were a couple old Sikh men in turbans taking the evening air, walking along the sidewalk as evening fell.

Making it back to base they relaxed for a while as the sun set. They received word the personnel they were waiting for would be arriving soon.

Everyone:

The school was on the crest of a wooded hill (now partially burned out) overlooking a small valley and large hill (Burnaby Mountain) to the north. After being hit by a nuclear strike to take out the several refineries surrounding its base there wasn't a lot to look at anymore.  Sure enough, a green US military Chevy technical with an M2HB mounted on a post in the bed pulled into the school's uphill parking lot. Loaded in the bed was a gunner and a passenger, and... a mule? Lying down patiently. The driver was unfamiliar, but the person riding shotgun was familiar enough.