Celtic Shipyard
The stack moved along the wharf, Rachel in front as scout/breacher with Robert as cover, then Ben as team commander and Andy pulling drag.
Lee slipped the Halligan tool through a strap across the back of her assault vest to keep her hands free to either fire the MP5 slung across her chest. This would also allow her to use the mirror attached to the telescoping handle that was the stock-in-trade of every ERT or police tactical team.
As they clomped down the wooden planks, wind sighed the trees, rustling the leaves in a sound that burst in the quiet. Birds chirped in the foliage, more flit overhead. Insects buzzed near the waterline.
Maybe it was nerves, but they could all sense unseen eyes looking at them, watching them.
They turned right after exiting the pier, heading for the Easternmost building. It was a massive shed-like structure, used for building fishing and pleasure boats.
There was little sign of exterior damage. Wherever the nuclear strikes had hit the city, this location was obviously out of the immediate overpressure blast zone and escaped the effects of the thermal pulse. Perhaps protected by the bulk of the Arbutus ridge that ran east-west across the peninsula upon which most of the city of Vancouver was sprawled.
The western side of the massive building had a large garage-like door and a couple of smaller exit doors, including a double fire door. Various piles of garbage and raw building materials were piled along the wall. Rusting oil drums sat in clusters.
A rusting forklift sat beside the building, exposed to the elements.
The southernmost side, the one facing the water, featured large hangar-like sliding double doors, although those were becoming overgrown by foliage. There were a few windows in the west side, some broken and gaping.
All the doors were closed. Picking a likely looking entry door on the west side , Lee led them in an oblique angle the prevented them from passing directly in front of any door or window.
Reaching the chosen entry point, she stepped carefully up to the door, avoiding crunching on the pebbled safety glass scattered below the shattered inset window. Letting her SMG hang from its tactical sling, she drew her sidearm and "mirrored" (covertly examined using the mirror) the opening but couldn't see anything inside the cavernous room. The shadows inside could be hiding almost anything.
Slowly trying the doorknob, she found that it was unlocked, having obviously been forced some time in the past.
[OOC: okay Jinny, let me know how you'd like to play this!]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:38, Sun 20 Jan 2008.