Monday 27 JUN 2001
Game Time 1915 Lima

The operation to round up the HA and New America Tier 1 leaders, and disrupt the arms convoy across the border, was scheduled for the following day, Friday 25 JUN 2001. Lots of organisation was needed as many friendly units in the Fraser Valley were involved but not all. For example, those closest to the target area (Abbotsford and Sumas) in Langley were kept out of the loop as their reliability was unknown. Various RCMP and Militia units from UBC and New West would provide the muscle to round up the (hopefully) leaderless biker gangs and Neo-Nazi New America cell members.

It was now the day before and the sun was going down. It had been a dry, warm day. Not too warm.

Preparations continued at the team's base in Ft. Langley were set into motion for the operation next day. It was going to involve most of the CF and RCMP units in the Lower Mainland. Everything was set to kick off the following day at sundown. At the fort, checks were carried out on the team's main vehicles: the Coyote, the Hunvee, and Eric's technical. The 10-ton would be borrowed by Belanger to move a QRF comprised of additional Militia and police in support of the operation.

As well, repairs were made on the perimeter wood palisade to replace sections taken out by the attacking LAV-75 and the IED that had been set off to take out some hostile bikers approaching the vehicle gate.

In the afternoon, the temperature began to rapidly drop, as did the barometer. Ever since the war summers were cooler and weather much more unpredictable. A short coded signal was received by radio. They were to receive flash traffic delivered by motorcycle courier from Commander Clarke-Sullivan at unit HQ in UBC.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:43, Tue 30 Jan.

Those in the fort heard the deep, resonant growl of an approaching motorcycle before they could see it. The rhythmic thumping of the cylinders created a distinctive heartbeat, giving the bike a unique and powerful presence. Then it appeared, turning off of Mary Avenue and approaching the gate, carrying a single rider.

As the cycle maneuvered toward the gate, the whirring and clicking of the transmission can be heard, accompanied by the occasional clunk as the rider downshifted or engaged the brakes. The throaty exhaust note, characterized by a deep bass undertone, adds a sense of authority to the arrival.

The BMW R80 G/S rolled to a stop and the sound gradually wound down as the rider switched off the ignition. The ticking of the hot engine cooling off provided a soothing cadence as the rider raised their goggles and face mask before removing the helmet, allowing his damp, auburn hair to cascade loosely, almost touching his shoulders. His face was weathered and sported a neatly trimmed moustache and goatee. Beneath the mud splattered, leather trench coat, he was dressed in standard Green Combat Uniform trousers and a somewhat rare CADPAT Temperate Woodland shirt. A rucksack rode behind him atop a pair of rigid saddlebags, while a Sterling nestled in the scabbard at his knee.

He looked at the gate guard expectantly, presenting his identification card as he spoke, “Master Corporal Gordon Truex, Canadian Airborne Regiment. I have a message from Commander Sullivan.”

In reply to Gordon 'Gord' Truex (msg # 2):

The fort was a replica of sorts, so the vehicle gate opened onto a parking lot. There were no cars parked there now, but there was a fairly large filled-in crater just inside the entrance. Blast damage to the surrounding area (including trees, nearby houses, the lawn, the palisade and gate several metres away across the parking lot, plus the side of the building behind them) suggested that a large explosive device, possibly an anti-tank mine or IED containing a kilo or more of explosives, had detonated there.

Although the damage looked recent, fresh repairs to the palisade and compound buildings had been made to fix the damage to the siding and roof. Some of the shingles that were blown off the roof were covered with a blue tarp, and boarded-up windows were in the process of being replaced with intact glass, likely scavenged from the adjacent neighborhood.

Referee's Notes:

Gord is at the gate by the parking lot at the south-west side of the fort. The filled-in blast crater is next to the road. If you switch to topographical Terrain view and zoom out you can see the fort is on a rise near the river near McMillan Is. He is aware there is a Native community (aka the "Rez") located there and has possibly visited there to trade in the past. The fort was unoccupied then. He is also aware there is a converted casino riverboat that goes up and down the river, although it usually remains docked in the still-occupied city of New West, near the mouth of the river.

https://maps.app.goo.gl/pm79qsekTmqwJGmH6

In reply to Gordon 'Gord' Truex (msg # 2):

A CF (Canadian Force) soldier armed with a C7A1 stepped out to meet him. Likely he was in the Airborne due to his maroon para beret and  Dennison-pattern camouflage smock over worn OD green "combats". Like most Canadian soldiers in the Twilight War he was bearded but otherwise neat in appearance.

Keeping his rifle at low-ready he asked, "good afternoon. The sign is Blue."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:08, Thu 01 Feb.

“Right then, countersign Thunder.” He replaced his ID in his wallet, which went back into its place in his pocket. “Any chance you can speed things up Sergeant? I’ve been on this thing for hours and need the use of a washroom.”

Mac wandered out to see what the racket was. Seeing that they had a visitor he came over.

"Would you like some coffee? I'll go put a pot on..."

In reply to Gordon 'Gord' Truex (msg # 5):

After inspecting his ID, he introduced himself as Sergeant Fox, or "Bob" (his name tape and chevrons were hidden by his camo oversmock)  then helped Gord walk his bike past the side of the white-painted replica Hudson's Bay Trading Co. house. The side closest to the palisade was the rear side and it seemed to be freshly patched up from the effects of the recent IED explosion in the parking lot. The front side was away from the explosion and in good shape. He noted there was a rear door and a front door, both with wheelchair ramps. The compound had various patches of vegetable gardens and fruit trees. The wood buildings lining the palisade seemed to be in excellent shape. Most were converted from displays recreating frontier BC life to sheds and a garage holding a former US military Humvee and a pickup truck. In the NW corner seemed to be a functioning smithy although there was no smoke rising from the forge at the moment. There was a mule drinking from a trough fed by a hand-pump near the vegetable patches. Somewhere nearby a generator puttered.

Parked in front of Company House was a green CF 10-ton cargo truck. Off to the left, nosed up to the palisade and and nestled in between some wood buildings was the bulk of a LAV-25 hidden under a camo net. Probably with its 25mm autocannon poking through a firing port where it could cover the main approaches from town. It had a large 10m telescoping mast sticking out of the rear deck hatch, with a cluster of remote cameras and sensors with and a radar dish mounted on top. Here on high ground they could probably maintain 24-hour 360-degree surveillance all the way across the Fraser River to the north and to the Trans-Canada freeway to the south.


"Yep, sure do. You can park your bike here at the front of the Company House. We got an outhouse over there, just around the far corner. As well, there is an honest-to-God indoor flush toilet in the Company house. Better use the outhouse, we collect fertiliser. You'll find the unit OIC inside Company House.

"You still live up in Aggasiz? Trade with the monks at the Monastery in Mission?" he guessed, from the addresse on his BC Driver's licence.

He slung the Sterling over his shoulder before he started moving in the direction of the outhouse, responding, “Bob, please hold that thought while I take care of business.” After a few steps, he halted and turned to the Native, “Did you say coffee? Beauty.” With that, he vanished around the corner.

After a brief interlude, he reemerged and approached the Company House, moving gracefully but with a slight limp in his gait, the gravel crunching beneath his combat boots. The trench coat hung over his left arm, and he neatly folded it and placed it on the BMW’s seat. You can now see his name tape ‘Truex’ and the “leaf of grief” on his sleeve.

“My apologies for skimping on introductions, but nature was not to be denied. Name’s Gord and yes, I still have a place near Aggasiz. Dairy farm and a creamery so we trade with pretty much everyone. I think some of the monks have a soft spot for cheese, so they are very good customers.

“Now, I should be finding Sergeant Shevkenko,” he looked Bob in the eye, “You said he should be inside, yes?”

He entered the Company House and asked to speak with the OIC.

Mac showed up with a pot of coffee and several mugs, making sure that everyone who wanted one was taken care of.

From the inside of the compound Taras noticed the German concerto of cylinders and exhaust coming to a halt. Nothing to do with the staccato of a Harley or the firecracking of the Urals, the two, sometimes three wheelers in the Red Army service. He gently tapped the one-piece rear wraparound grip of the Smith and Wesson service pistol instinctively. Too many memories of confronting bikers perhaps. But he also realized that, once inside the fort, this could only signal a friendly.

Once outside, a lonely rider appeared to be already chatting with Mac.

Good day! Welcome to the Fort!

“Thanks, Sergeant. I’m Master Corporal Gordon Truex, Gord if you like, late of the Commandos.” He reached inside his uniform blouse and produced a sealed manila envelope, which he offered to Shevchenko.

“From Commander Sullivan. He left my next task up in the air, I'm hoping this will provide a clue.”

He watched the sergeant expectantly and accepted a mug of coffee and took a swig, letting the hot liquid rinse the road grime from his throat. “Ah, now that does the trick! Many thanks!”

OOC: Switching color for speaking, trying to find one that's not already in use. :)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:42, Sun 04 Feb.

Ah! News from the top! Very well... Lets take a look... please relax, Gord, enjoy your coffee. You're more than welcome to stay for awhile.

Taras took the manila envelope with a smile and motioned the newcomer to follow him inside.

Once inside the Ukrainian will look at the contents of the orders. Being an officer in the Soviet side, he had grown accustomed to motorbike delivery of orders as it was standard practice and felt appreciation for the courageous riders that will defy death in such swift mounts under all linds of fire.

Andrews gave the rider a wave once the formalities had been done and he was ushered into the fort proper. Then he continued with the work, the palisade and associated parts of the fort had been repaired and what could not be was made weather tight.


-

The decoded message was:

Meeting location tomorrow changed to across the river from Abbotsford, near Mission but downriver. There is a boat salvage yard and the meeting is being held on board an abandoned BC Ferries vessel, the Queen of Sidney. Time is still same. Expected are 3 NA HVTs, 3 HA HVTs. Security team is 8 armed bodyguards.

As they had time they could set an ambush en route as the HVTs would still be coming from Abbotsford and therefore crossing the river. The HAs had been infiltrated by law enforcement Undercover Officers (UOs), and at least a few team members could be included in the security team. Lastly, they could also infiltrate the meeting site ahead of time.

GM Notes: There is a lot of information your characters would already be aware of, OOC, but you as players might not. For example, Gord has actually been aboard the vessel where the meeting is being held. To reflect this, please post OOC questions to the "Intelligence Gathering" thread so the OOC and IC threads are not clogged with info dumps:

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