The small unit met at the outside door and formed up. Jagelis deployed them in a horse-shoe around the end of the wharf, covering the land sector in all directions.

On-ship, the crew were in the process of winching out the LAV, having attached it via steel cable to the forward cargo crane.

Kelsey stopped them for the moment, then resumed covered the approaching white SUV.

The Russian UAZ remained parked a ways away, near the western shipyard entrance.

It was a GMC Suburban in RCMP Supervisor markings. Passing behind the buildings, it pulled out at the end of the dock and flashed it's roof lights.



The could see the driver was a large Indian (that is, SE Asian) man in his 40's dressed in RCMP regular-duty uniform, wearing a blue turban and with a large mustache and neatly-trimmed beard. Sitting beside him was a red-haired man in camouflage fatigues, and there were a couple more men sitting in back, including what looked to be the fisherman they met earlier. No one was waving rifles or got out.

The Suburban stopped and the driver had some words with his passengers.

Cutting the engine and stepping out to stand beside the truck, he introduced himself.

"I am Sergeant Khandola, 185th Provost Company (RCMP), UBC Detachment. I am pleased to make your acquaintance!"
[Edit: added and corrected a few details for Sgt. Khandola.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:46, Mon 28 Jan 2008.

"Lee, you're up," Ben murrmured into the radio inspite of the fact that she was less than a dozen yards away.
Why raise your voice if you don't have to were his thoughts. Although squatting in cover behind some of the debris the place seemed to be choked with, he tried to look as unimposing as he could. It certainly wouldn't do to anger the locals or instigate a firefight if it could be avoided.

With the approach of armed strangers, Andy underwent an imperceptable transformation from quiet, unassuming young man, to a dispassionate- almost mechanical- killer of men.

From cover, he sighted on the driver of the SUV, ignoring the as yet unverified RCMP officer who'd just stepped out into the open. With the driver dead at the wheel, the others in the vehicle would become sitting ducks. If it came to that. Andy didn't want to kill anyone- not really. But, that was his job sometimes, and he was rather good at it. If these folks did anything to endanger his comrades, he would extinguish the threat.

He spoke in low, cool tones to the Lietenant, whose nervousness was apparent.

"I've got the SUV driver, Lt.

A quick glance at the docks brought Taras some memories. This very same ship, a few months ago has been his passport to a new life. He also found some confidence and anxiously interrupted Khandola's thoughts.

Sargent, this is the very same boat that brought me here from the island! Maybe the same Captain is there too! An old, gentle, pipe smoking fellow. He may remember me as well...

The cold stare of the Sargent appeared to warm a bit after this. The slightly wobbling hull appeared to be full of activity on the deck. Some crew members were hoisting a crane and arranging wires and chains.

Taras could see what he thought was the captain on the Church's bridge.

The old rust-bucket was in about the same shape as when it brought him down from Bella Coola months ago. After all, it was hard to see how it could get any worse and still remain float! There was another female soldier manning a GPMG on the side facing them, although its barrel was not pointed in the SUV's direction.

Sgt. Khandola noted McRae in the bushes off the to side, aiming at him. He raised an eyebrow, putting his hand on the mic that was clipped to his patrol vest and murmuring something into it.

He then adressed Lee in his deep musical voice, noting her (brevet) rank. "Sergeant, kindly ask to have that man stand down immediately. It would be deeply regrettable all around if an incident were to occur. Especially for your mission!" He chuckled.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:05, Sun 27 Jan 2008.

In Fox's eyes wearing any uniform no longer meant with full certainly that people were your friends or not. He looks over at Lee and gives her some added confidence and encouragement, "Go on. If they are not legit we got you well backed here."

"Alright." she says to Ben, and gives a nod to Fox. As she walks over she looks back at Andy and raises a hand as if to say 'its ok.'

Standing in front of the other officer - "I'm Corporal... acting sergeant Lee. We weren't expecting any kind of surprise welcome... at least by anyone like yourselves." She pauses, expecting him to explain their actions and how this meeting came to be.

Pointing back to her comrades, she adds - "There's an army officer in charge of my group. But anyways, after we unload our vehicle we'll be interested in moving back to the university. We're looking forward to working with you and hope what we can offer you will be helpful."

"Shall we meet and sort out our move to your university. My team would like to know about the local situation before we drive through the neighborhood."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:04, Sun 27 Jan 2008.

Sgt. Khandola nodded in understanding.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sergeant Lee.

"I am the NCO in charge of UBC Detachment. The gentleman in the front passenger seat is Taras Shevchenko, a security contractor employed by both the Detachment and the Faculty of UBC for consultation on community defense and special services. He has our full trust and cooperation and is properly authorized under the law as a Special Auxiliary Constable under the National Defense act."

Lee wasn't too familiar with the ins and outs of the National Defence Act, and especially the "National Survival" section of the Act, but as far as she recalled this made Taras a provisional Peace Officer empowered under federal law to assist the RCMP and military in wartimes or national emergency.

In peacetime such "Auxiliary RCMP Constables" aided greatly in rural policing, where detachments of two to four regular mounties may be separated by hundreds of kilometres. Or, such "part-time" RCMP provided regular municipal policing for the suburb of Coquitlam as a cost-saving measure.

"We are quite grateful for all the assistance you can provide for our endeavours here. In turn, we will be as generous as we can with our assistance."

"We are all on the same side!"

"As for how we detected you, there is a large network of coast-watchers and lookouts, including our neighbors here, the good people of the Musqeuam First Nation. All connected by telephone or radio to UBC. There is little that happens in this area that we are not aware of.

"Were we properly informed of your arrival, we would have been more than happy to provide local security, or at least brief you on the local situation, which is possibly quite different than you imagine. While there are parts of town that are quite rough; suffice to say this is not one of them."

"We intended to wait for you at out main checkpoint, on Southwest Marine and 41st, as it seemed logical that is where you would arrive once we learned you had been given permission by the Musqueam First Nation to use their wharf, here at the shipyard."

"However, once you elected to commence entry into the premises here, we judged that the risk of escalation or a misunderstanding demanded our presence. Should you wish to tour these facilities, which we have made good use out of and hope to keep doing so, we may do that now with the assistance of the on-site security."

"Mister Allamby there," he indicated a man in the SUV whom Rachel recognised as the fisherman she met earlier whon was looking quite agitated, "is quite concerned for the safety of his children, which he believes might be in that building. I trust that either you did not encounter them or they are safe?"

At that point Dennis, who'd ignored Taras' prior attempt to calm his agitation, had enough of talking.

The man exited the rear of the vehicle and called over. "Hey, any of you seen my kids? They play in that buildin' sometimes 'cause it's broken into and we don't use it. Are they okay?

The other man, the one in the security guard uniform, stayed put, looking a little uneasy at the armed personnel around 20m away.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:37, Sun 27 Jan 2008.

Chris checked in with Ben via radio to report there was no movement on his side of the ship, on either side of the river.

At Rachel's signal, Andy lowers his rifle barrel an inch or two so that he's no longer aiming directly at the driver, but he can still engage quickly if need be. These folks seem legit, but he's not quite ready to let down his guard just yet.

Like most folks on the front lines of the battle to reunite and rebuild western Canada, he's heard stories of rogue military and police units- or folks impersonating them- committing various attrocities against civilians in the region, and occasionally trying their luck against legit government forces.

Better safe than sorry...

Lee nods as her counterpart from the university speaks. After he is done she introduces each of the other members of her team. She pauses to let Ben take over arranging the move to the university.

When the native fellow gets out and begins asking about his children she walks over to him - "Hey, they are ok. We were just making sure the area was safe. We don't know who lives around here eh? We left them in the last building over there."

The fishermen Lee had met earlier smiled, relieved.

"Oaky, thanks! Well, I'm going to go grab 'em now!"

With that, he disappeared inside the building through the nearest door. They could hear him calling for Terry and Paul.

Sgt. Khandola signaled for the other passengers to get out of the SUV. He nodded towards the security guard, a man dressed in a yellow nylon windbreaker with reflective stripes over a uniform shirt, and baggy bicycle pants also with reflective stripes. He wore a heavy-duty black nylon belt with some pouches and key rings, but no obvious weapons other than perhaps a collapsible baton or maybe handcuffs. Although his coat was marked with "SECURITY" on the back in reflective letters, there were no other identifying patches or flashes.

"Like I said, this gentleman can show you around if you wish."

"Otherwise, feel free to continue debarking. If you like, I can summon backup to provide perimeter security while this occurs. They can arrive in perhaps 5 to 10 minutes."

As it appears that the initial tense situation was unfolding nicely, Taras thought that will be a good idea to speed up the disembarkment, proceed to UBC grounds and give a throughout briefing of the current situation in the Lower Mainland.

Sargent, I suggest to call in for some backup from the Faculty's militia. Maybe a dozen guys. They will secure the perimeter of the shipyard. Our visitors will feel more safe and we can help them with the unloading. The militia will also provide escort for the convoy. The sooner we get back to the University the better.

The red-haired man in the passenger seat got out and made his suggestion to Sgt. Khndola. Unarmed, he was wearing a Russian-pattern fatigue tunic over a black cotton T-shirt and fatigue pants. Typically, he wasn't wearing the issue Russian boots but a pair of good quality high-tech walking shoes.

Khandola thought for a moment.

"Deploying security could be done quickly."

"I do not believe it will be necessary in this area."

"However, our friends still seem somewhat insecure and if this will help put them at ease, then it is a good idea."

"After all, if we are going to trust and work with them, then they need to do the same in return."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:54, Mon 28 Jan 2008.

"What do you say Ben? I think we're ok with just offloading as it is. Thats how were were taking things originally." Lee says.

Fox stands up from his position and slings his rifle. He spits over the side of the wharf and looks across at the other buildings. Giving a curt nod to the RCMP officer he dismisses himself and makes his way back to the boat.

Walking up to the two Militia on the Church, he says, "Fellas... stand down. Leftenent is prolly gonna give the word to haul this beast out of the ship, so lets get ready."

The older mountie spoke reassuringly to his colleague.

"Whichever would make you feel more comfortable, that is for the best."

"You have my personal reassurance that attack here is very unlikely. If anyone unknown to the Musqueam band approaches this area, they will be noticed and we will be warned."

"Leftenant, the decision is yours"



Khandola politely returned the nod as Fox retired to the ship.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:16, Mon 28 Jan 2008.

Kelsey pointedly glanced down at the GPMG in front of her, which was still not pointing at the SUV.

"Don't worry Sarge, it's still in my pants. Easy-peasy."

Being opinionated, she couldn't help but add her own opinion.

"We sure looked all ready to throw down on that cop if he looked sideways at us, and they're supposed to be the friendlies around here! I'm sorta curious to see what's going to go down if any "real" diplomacy is required."

"Anyways, I think I found the radio channel the RCMP is using around here. It's on the police bands. All routine traffic. I'll let the LT know if anything interesting comes up."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Mon 28 Jan 2008.

Wandering over, Chris gave a thumb's-up to show he understood.

"Too easy. I'll still keep an eye on the Airport."

His eyes remained expressionless behind mirrored sunglasses. He had traded helmet for green infantry beret.

He called over to the ship's captain, getting his attention.

"Hey, Captain Kirsch, I think we're ready to get this show back on the road."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:17, Mon 28 Jan 2008.

Bayer stops, and thinks that's right. Talking into his radio, "Lee, don't forget to ask him who is at the airport."

Seeing that a fight wasn't going to break out, the ship's crew resumed prepping the LAV for offloading at Chris' suggestion.

The palable tenseness in the air seemed to disperse like a snapping rubber band. Ben couldn't quite put his finger on anything in particular but he felt the situation on the mainland was much safer than they'd feared. It almost seemed that they were the only problem the city faced!
Murmuring into his radio he gave the order, "Stand down shore party but stay alert. These mounties appear genuine."
"Continue with the unloading please. LAV first."
"Champlain and MacDonald, stay at those positions until the stores are unloaded. I'll send Fox up later to assist with the '19."
Not a bad weapon but certainly more than one person should be carrying. A small man like MacDonald would have great difficulty staggering across the deck with it, let alone climb over the side onto the dock!
"MacRae, move up and join Lee. Find out from the locals where we can and can't go for you to set up an OP."
"I'm heading back to the ship to supervise unloading. Lee, please advise locals I'll meet them once we're unloaded for a chat. In the meantime, liase with them for security of the area."
Standing up, he hoisted the C-9 LMG and trotted back down the dock towards the ship.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Wed 30 Jan 2008.

Jagelis moved down the wharf to help with the unloading.

The fisherman (who they soon learned was named Dennis Lalande) emerged from the building, frog-marching his chastised-looking children in front of him.

"Sorry, I hope they didn't get in your way or nothin'. I should get these little monsters back. Give 'em a whuppin'!"

When asked by Lee and McRae about the people camped out at Vancouver International, Khandola informed them they were a gang that went by the name "The Bridge Trolls".

"These so-called "Trolls" control the Arthur Laing Bridge across the North Arm to Lulu Island, the airport. They are mostly former military personnel, predominantly American. Approximately a hundred in number, posessing some APCs and heavy weapons. They are content to extort tolls from passing river traffic heading to the city of New Westminster and the free market at Annacis Island."

"Our community at UBC, which some call "The Faculty", had some... misunderstandings with them. Parties from UBC attempting to survey the airport for useful materials did so without permission. They were caught and evicted with all due haste. The fact that the Trolls keep all scavengers off their territory, and haven't had the inclination or need to strip it themselves means the airport is quite possibly the best remaining untouched source of salvage we know of in the Lower Mainland."

"They mostly stay on their island except to trade, and we do not go there."

Lee asked the security guard where the best spot for an OP would be.

"Well, uh, anywhere, I guess. You can easily get up on the roof there, and the NE corner should give you a good view up Balaclava and east along Celtic, and most of the yard all the way to the west gate."

He pointed to "Building #5", the one the team had cleared. There was a metal ladder on the SW side that went from the ground to the roof.

"Really, you can go just about anywhere."

"Just, you know, please don't go breakin' into the houses around here. They're all Band property now."

As the crew swung into action, it was clear that the LAV, the trailer, and the team's gear would be off-loaded within the half-hour.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:59, Tue 29 Jan 2008.

Taras was impressed by the new arrival. It's been months since the last time he saw an Officer like him in action. The military visit will certainly help to straight things up and certainly put up to speed the Faculty program to reunite the Lower Mainland communities. But this arrival started in a strange manner and was unfolding a bit fast for his taste.

Sargent, I still insist to get some back up here. Is more a protocolary thing rather than security issue. But I wouldn't discard the last since the size of their party is so small. There is no need to get them inside the wharf. Just let them wait for us outside. This way we can get the route cleared by them while they arrive, we'll show that we respect the native ground and it will also demonstrate some respect for our guests. At the same time you can test the militia's discipline and deployment time. Sargent, I think we shouldn't miss this opportunity. But that's just muy idea...

Taras resented the lack of protocol of the RCMP Sargent. In the Soviet Army, the tradition of respect, and fear, towards military chiefs and officers was always present. He decided to take action and walked towards the young man that appeared to give orders.

Good Morning and welcome to Vancouver! My name is Taras Shevchenko. I used to be a Lieutenant with the 62nd MRD. Now my job is devoted to the UBC community and we certainly are looking forward to work together...As soon as everything is on the ground we'll form a convoy and we proceed towards the Faculty where we brief you about the situation here in the city.

Khandola frowned.

"Taras, Lieutenant Jagelis here has not commented either way on your earlier recommendation."

"I think your idea has considerable merit. Deploying the Reaction Team right now will be an excellent test of their readiness. They have had little experience beyond the perimeter since they were formed and I agree this opportunity should not go to waste."

Again, he spoke into the mic clipped to his vest.

"Dispatch from Tango 1."

"Go for dispatch."

"Deploy Tango 4 from Base to intersection of... Celtic and Blenheim to secure route to Charlie. Be advised do not approach the Celtic shipyard."

"Tango 1, ah, 10-4."

"Very well, Taras, I shall follow your advice. The Reaction Team will not approach close enough to cause problems."

Ben looked decidedly uncomfortable with the Russian. Only a few short months ago he was being shot at by men like him, and now he was supposed to be working with them?
"Used to be...?"
Once a communist, always a filthy socialist pig. It was beginning to sound like the brass had switched sides without telling the troops.

Fox, standing up on the deck listens as the plan is laid out over the radio. He'll then move and take over the Mk-19. He watches from a distance as Ben and the locals confer on the wharf, then goes about keeping a lookout.

Lee presses the RCMP officer for questions and watches as Andy departs to establish an OP. "Well, you want backup to come out thats fine, but either way we're ok."

Nodding her head towards the road which led out of the dock area she asks - "What kind of trouble can we expect on the move?"

When the Russian spoke, Lee offered no change in expression and simply nodded to him. Looking back at the mountie she asks "How many Russians does your organization field?"

As the LAV is hoisted up and shifted out over the dock, Lee jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the armoured vehicle - "Thats how I get to work in the morning?" she joked (without smiling).
This message was last edited by the player at 14:04, Wed 30 Jan 2008.

The older Mountie answered, "no trouble, in all likelihood. If you take the corner onto SW Marine too fast you may roll over. The Piranha has a notoriously high centre of gravity."

"No, we shall be treating this as a readiness exercise. After all, we can't go out to the range in Chilliwack for training, can we?

Rachel remembered the Canadian Forces Base there had been shut down in the early 90's. The federal government converted the installation into a police tactical training facility run by the RCMP, also leasing it to the various municipal police ERTs. When the base was reactivated a couple years later during the Sino-Soviet crisis that eventually led to Canada's involvement in Europe, ERTs still used the expanded base facilities to train.

She remembered many a hard day training there, followed by the long drive back to Richmond. Chilliwack was a farming community located dozens of kilometres up the Fraser Valley, rather difficult to get to nowadays.

As Ms. Lee was currently indisposed with her police laison duties, Andy proceeded alone towards the building indicated by the Khandola fellow, winding his way around various pieces of scrap and debris. It was an obvious spot for an OP- and therefore not entirely safe- but the locals appeared to have the area relatively secure so he figured he'd save the time and trouble and go with it. He ascends the ladder nimbly and crosses the roof carefully, looking for structural deficiencies and making sure not to sillouette himself against the skyline. He crosses the last few meters to the landward side of the building on his belly. Nearing the edge, he lays his C8 down beside him and scans the area along their axis of march carefully through his binoculars.

There is not a single Russian in UBC grounds. Not even myself. I am Ukrainian. As you can see, the Soviet Union is a conglomerate of different republics. And not everybody agrees with this situation. When I enlisted in the Army I thought I was going to fulfill my duties of protecting my country, my people, in the same way that my Granpa did against the fascists. But instead they mobilized the Army to invade yet another country. I decided to defect and I ended up here in Vancouver. That very same ship brought me here!

Taras made a pause to observe the reaction in the faces of the newcomers. He knew that it was not going to be an easy task to convince them of his personal situation. It took several weeks to get a warm approach from the people living at the Faculty. Suspicions, fears, gossip,...A long way to redemption...Steady work and cooperation earned him a good reputation between the circle of professors, RCMP detachment and militia. They will speak for him and will convince them about who really was.

I've been living here for 5 months now. I'm a "Security Contractor". I gave some weapons to the militia and helped them to set the defenses for the perimeter. Currently I'm also involved in different projects involving telecommunications and repair of electric devices. All of them part of the policies of the "Council" towards the future of the city.

Lee nods as the Ukrainian talks. When she hears contractor she says in an accusing tone - "Security contractor... in other words a mercenary, right?" Then in a flash she holds up her hand in a halting or defensive fashion - "Forget it. I'm not looking for a fight here. Perhaps you are doing good here. You no doubt understand how most people will react to you being here. Pretty much everyone here has lost people because of the war."

Changing the subject she says - "Your telecommunications. How far can you communicate out to? Anything further down the valley?"

Looking over her shoulder she looks to see the progress of unloading the LAV. She was anxious to get moving.

On the ground, Khandola excused himself from the conversation, coordinating the arrival of UBC's Reaction Team via radio.

The yard's security guard, Dennis and Desnnis' children retired from the scene, going off towards the western entrance to the yard.

McRae could see quite a ways north up Balaclava, almost all the way uphill to SW Marine.

Khandola reported to Lee the immanent arrival of the Reaction Team.

"Two of the elements are arriving. One will secure the intersection of Balaclava and Southwest Marine, the other at Celtic and Balaclava. Your lookout should be able to see the latter any moment."

Within another few minutes an RCMP SUV (a Suburban like the one already parked there) drove down Balaclava towards the shipyard's east entry.

It stopped short of the access road that led right past Fo's OP, and the SUV parked blocking Celtic drive from anyone approaching from the east. The driver, a uniformed RCMP (daily patrol uniform plus vest) carrying a shotgun got out. So did the passengers, all wearing vests over surplus US camouflage, black ball caps and carrying either shotguns or C7/AR-15 style assault rifles.

The Mountie directed the other members of the element there to deploy spike belts to further block Celtic Dr. to the east. A couple of members were detailed to watch the western approach down Celtic as well.

As the presumed route-of-travel would be noth along Balaclava, this still left their route clear for travel.

Meanwhile on the ship, Captain Kirsch waved at Taras in passing, but was otherwise occupied with the unloading operation, which to Fox seemed to go smoothly but a little slower than planned.


Edit: changed line of dialogue regarding Lee and her liaising with Khandola.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:48, Thu 31 Jan 2008.

Mercenary?

Taras was somehow surprised by that word. A few months ago he was a senior Lieutenant commanding an engineer unit supporting the mechanized regiment. Then he closed his eyes and moved gently his head from shoulder to shoulder with pressed lips conveying an almost peaceful smile.

No. Not at all. There is no war here. There are obvious security problems that have to be addressed and the people living here need advice and much help. The enemy that we face here is more on the criminal side, you see. There are armed gangs and other bandits ready to take advantage of the law vacuum. The limited RCMP force can't do much but protect the Western area. The militia also helps a lot.

For a moment he stopped to catch some breath and looking towards the bridge of the GB "Church" waved his arm, gave a big smile and a "thumbs up" to Capt. Kirsch that appeared to recognised him. "Church" he thought, what an appropiate name for a place to find sanctuary...

And yes. We have a basic land line telephone connexion that links the security posts and the native community in this area. A bigger project is going on to set up a wireless tower that may give us reach to the entire valley. The problem is to reach the far away communities and provide radio equipment, frequencies and operation hours to keep constant link. As you can see there is only that much that we can do from here but we need to reach out for them. We need to identify community leaders. A challenging task.

Khandola listened to his radio, then informed Lee of the transmission.

"we have elements in place covering the east and western entrances to the shipyard."

He then reminded Taras that his vehicle was parked elsewhere, a short walk away.

"Taras, your jeep is still parked a little ways away. You can walk there now to bring it here, or I can drop you off to pick it up when we start moving."
It was still quite peaceful, with birds chirping in the trees and insects buzzing near the river's muddy edge.

Near the wharf, trash like a white plastic pail and truck tire was partially sunk into the black mire.

The ground was still metaphorically shifting under the team's feet. They had landed not unlike like the Canadian troops at Juno Beach in Normandy, prepared if necessary to wage immediate and bloody war in the ruins to restore order from chaos.

It started dawning on them that their mission had taken on a somewhat different slant. Instead of a black and white struggle to oust an invading faceless enemy, the conflict would be what was called after Gulf War II and before the Twilight War "Military Operations Other Than War" or "Effects Based Operations".

They had been briefed along these lines before leaving, but sometimes old habits and mindsets die hard. Of them all, Lee's experience in wartime policing had the most experience dealing in the uncomfortable interface between civilian and soldier.

Simply thinking in terms of firepower and maneuver would be insufficient, and conducting diplomacy down the barrel of a gun highly counter-productive. There would have to be an emphasis on "hearts and minds", non-violent conflict resolution, even working with their former enemies where it served their purpose.

Speaking of that, even the "Russian" guy wasn't actually Russian! Another element that wasn't quite as clear-cut as expected.

Another 10 minutes or so passed as the LAV was winched over the end of the wharf, then gently lowered to the wooden planks. The weathered timber squealed in protest as 16 plus tons settled on them. Next was the trailer, and the crew began preparing that for relocation to behind the LAV.

Up on the roof, McRae came alert as he spotted a blue Chevy van driving south down Balaclava towards the reaction element blocking the intersection with Celtic. The vehicle and occupants seemed to be familiar to the Mountie and the militia waiting there.

The Mountie stepped into the road in front of the van. It stopped so he could talk to the driver, then motioned the van off to the shoulder so that it wasn't blocking the road.

On the hood was the well-known symbol of Canada's public broadcaster, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, aks "CBC" aka the "Mother Corp.". It had been over a year since any one of the newcomers had seen or even heard of the like.



McRae saw what looked to be a woman, an honest-to-God reporter accompanied by a cameraman get out the side and passenger door of the van. While the reporter asked the Mountie some kind of question, the cameraman put his video camera on his shoulder and commenced videotaping the scene. The sound man/driver maneuvered a boom microphone out the window above the reporter's head.

In the yard, again, Khandola listened to his radio.

"It seems the local media has arrived. They are volunteers, mostly former CBC employees and telecommunications students. Their work is supposedly for posterity, and they are fixing up one of the television transmitters here on campus."

"Apparently, this is a historic occasion. They wish to get a statement from your spokesperson regarding your mission, if you have one."

"I have had much experience in dealing with these people, and trust me, telling them "no comment" or ignoring them only whets their appetite and sharpens their persistence."

It seemed there was a note of amused resignation in his voice over the situation.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:31, Sat 02 Feb 2008.

Still manning the Mk-19, Fox rotates it towards the oncoming vehicle. As it nears he releases his grip and lets the barrel slowly angle upwards. "What in the hell?" is says slowly aloud to himself.

Still perplexed and amazed by the sight unfolding, his mouth drops a little when one of the men actually puts a camera on his shoulder. He feels weird but cannot explain it. Maybe everything was normal on the mainland, and everyone on the island had been living in some Twilight Zone. It was surreal, he wanted to laugh but couldn't.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:29, Sat 02 Feb 2008.

Lee just says - "Media? Ahh... ok. Just a second."

Toggling her radio she looks at Ben supervising the offloading the LAV. "There is um... media here. They want to talk to somebody. I guess our operation is pretty public knowledge. You want to give a statement." she pauses uncomfortably, "Or do you want me to do it."

OOC - I'll assume Ben says for Lee to go ahead. I suppose if he also wants to be on TV he can talk after.

"Ok." she says to Khandola. She then makes her way over to his RCMP SUV and inspects herself in the reflection, and side mirrors. Even after a couple years of war, the feeling of not wanting to look awful on camera prevailed. It was completely unavoidable.

"They coming here? I'm ready." she asks. In actuality she wasn't. It was so long since she had to deal with the media she almost forgotten how. Even her last years before the war she was never really in a position having to speak to reporters.

The news team was out of direct line-of-sight from the people on the ground, blocked by the buildings and then the trees at the edge of the property.

However, from his vantage point on the superstructure of the ship, Fox could just make the people in question out through a break in the trees. He peered through his binoculars at this apparition that seemed to be coming from another planet.

As if on cue, the distant cameraman finished getting footage of the reporter and Mountie waiting for an answer, and turned the camera on what little of the ship he could see, including Fox.

This isn't happening...

Andy watches the somewhat sureal scene unfolding on the road towards the docks through his binnoculars. The mountie had already called it in so Andy didn't bother cluttering up the airwaves with a duplicate report.

Why the hell did they pick me for this job?

Thoughts bred by years of surviving countless attempts on his life- instinct or habit- automatically kicked in.

Spies?

Terrorists?

He remembered reading a report in the Economist prewar about an Islamic suicide bomber assassinating a rival using an explosive device hidden inside a functioning TV camera.

After a few minutes during which no one had exploded yet, his brain down-shifted. He exhaled a deep breath and continued to sweep the surrounding area through his binos.

Anyway, even if these folks were legit, they're presence certainly didn't help the team's mission- at least as Andy understood it.

Might as well send the town crier out to announce the arrival of the recce team...

Fucking media.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Sat 02 Feb 2008.

...and here comes the 5th state so the soldiers can have an Iwo Jima moment...

Or the Reichstag flag planting if they were Red Army soldiers...In any case Taras decided to get out of there quickly. He tried to keep a low profile. Not an easy world for a defector. He knew that the footage will be incriminatory for better or for worst. In any case he will not mind leave all the protagonism to the visitors. Waving the crew a smile turned to the trim bearded, turban wearing man:

Sgt. Khandola! I'm going to the entrance and have a chat with the security guard to prepare my jeep. Is a short walk and I need some fresh air and a cigarette. I'll be waiting for you when the interview finish and everybody is ready to go.

Smokes were a luxury. One that he was willing to share with the native and try to barter some for the scrumptious "indian candy" that was prepared in the reservation. The perfect appetizer!

Khandola transmitted a command to the roadblock on Balaclava.

The van was waved through and passed out of sight from Fox behind the buildings and trees, although McRae kept it in sight all the way.

It traveled south down the short rutted tree-lined service road from the intersection of Balaclava and Celtic to the eastern gate of the shipyard. The guard rode over on his ATV, then unlocked the gate. The van drove down between the buildings.

Parking at the foot of the wharf off to the side, the news crew deployed their equipment. The cameraman was an older casually-dressed black man in a safari vest bulging with gear, and he immediately began videoing the shipyard, ship and crew, LAV, and military personnel. The driver/soundman was a young man with glasses, long hair and unkempt beard.

The reporter was a young woman with red hair tied back in a pony tail. She spent a minute or so getting her makeup ready and fixing her hair, then got out to talk to Lee.

Khandola offered some advice to the younger Mountie, going over the basics on dealing with the media. It boiled down to don't treat them like the enemy, cultivate a good relationship with them, and give them what information you can or they will go to other, less reliable sources.

"The reporter is Tricia Todd. Her cameraman is Curtis Forbes and the soundman is Damien Sparkle.

"As I have said, I personally know and have dealt with them many times. They are not adversarial and try to be neutral in the best journalistic tradition. They also wish to see this effort succeed as they have nothing to gain and everything to lose by its failure."

They were expecting the reporter to film some kind of introduction but once the camera and sound equipment was set up, the reporter immediately came over.

Introductions were made. Lee found the young woman to be cheerful, intelligent and perceptive.

"Hi! It's great to see you guys. There have been a lot of rumours for months about something like this. People are really excited that finally the government is sending someone! Hopes are high that we can finally fix things around here."

"Well, let me know when you're ready."

The interview itself was a little anti-climactic.

Lee was simply videotaped giving a statement. Absent any instruction or restriction from Jagelis, she outlined the mission in basic form.

Namely, the federal government was planning on restoring control over the lower mainland. They had sent a task force to survey the area and negotiate with the community at UBC towards that end. This was an ongoing mission and would be based out of UBC, with no timetable set as of yet for the arrival of additional personnel or the conclusion of the mission.

"Thank you, Sergeant Lee, you've been very helpful."

The news team moved down the wharf to where Jagelis was standing by the LAV, helping unload the vehicle and equipment.

"Lieutenant Jagelis, do you have any additional comments about your mission and what you are attempting to accomplish here?"

The blood drained from Bens face as the report came in that the media, of all things, had appeared on the scene. Didn't anybody realise that they were supposed to be sneaking in without attracting attention?
"You have got to be kidding!" he said, white faced and wishing he was somewhere else. Anywhere else, even back on the lines holding back overwhelming odds would have been preferable.
"How the hell am I supposed to deal with this?" he mumbled to himself in shock, forgetting his words had been carried across his small units radio network.
Never one for public relations exercises, Ben initially tried to hide himself amongst the bustle of preparing the LAV to move. Two years before, when he'd had a full plattoon to work with, he might have suceeded. As it was, it was impossible to blend in when you were one of only two actual soldiers on the wharf.

"Ah, no, not at this time," he began, glad not to have started off simply stammering.
"Sergeant Lee has covered everything fairly well for now." And given him the few vital minutes he'd needed to compose his thoughts and not appear completely witless.
"We'll issue further statements once we've been properly briefed on the situation and had time to settle in." Perhaps in a day or two, maybe a week if he was lucky...
This message was last edited by the player at 23:52, Sun 03 Feb 2008.

The attractive young woman's expression didn't change, but Ben could tell she was more than a little disappointed.

However, she also impervious to his suggestion. Ben caught a whiff of perfume and suddenly found it hard to think.

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Well, at any rate, I look forward to working with you and your people! It will be an interesting experience for all concerned, I'm sure. One for the history books."

"Thank you for your time, Leftenant. We don't want to get in your way!"

Already off-balance and starting to feel aroused by her, Ben wondered that meant. He had a sinking feeling he would find out soon enough.

Cameraman in tow, she headed back to the van. Once there, she and her crew did a few intro segments that would be edited in to the beginning of the piece.

Over at the guard house, Taras shared a bottle of beer cooled by the river's water. Pete, the guard, had one himself, and speculated about the newcomers. Taras watched them through binoculars, waiting for the news crew to depart or at least stop filming before he returned.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:10, Sun 03 Feb 2008.

Ben watched Tricia's extremely cute rear wiggle back down the wharf, finally shaking himself free of her spell as she disappeared from sight.
"Right," he called across the radio, trying to take chage of not just the situation but his own thoughts too.
"C-6 and '19 to move to LAV now. Lee, McRae, meet the LAV as we drive past your position."
Finally they were getting on the road, even if they had an entourage they'd not planned for. All they needed now were crowds of school children lined up along their route waving flags as they passed!

"See you at the university." Lee says to Khandola with a small wave. Walking over to the wharf she climbs aboard the LAV. Placing her crew helmet on she turns on the I/C and starts the engine. As the others climb in she puts on her sunglasses and does a final familiarization of the controls.

Starring ahead, she waits until she's told everyone is in and the rear door shut. "Rolling." she says over the I/C. Hatch open, she advances the LAV down the wharf. Slowly at first, but once she gets onto firm ground, Lee guns the engine until its next to the McRae's building then brings it to an abrupt halt.

Once Andy is on board, and the go ahead is given, she'll drive behind Khandola's RCMP SUV.

Fox spends his last few minutes on the Church helping move the heavy Mk-19 to shore. Once everything is offloaded and the LAV is ready he makes a check - the trailer is properly and sufficiently attached, and outside gear is well strapped down.

Climbing up onto the turret he enters the gunners hatch and activates the turret. He looks through his aiming apparatus and selects several random "targets" swinging the main gun onto them. As Lee begins to drive the LAV forward he moves up and goes crew-exposed.

With his upper body through the commanders hatch, Ben assisted in mounting the heavy automatic grenade launcher on top of the LAV. His own C-9 had been secured in the rack behind his position, and hopefully wouldn't be needed at short notice with the '19 and it's awesome firepower at his fingertips.
Checking one last time that everything was in place, he gave a farewell wave to the Church and it's crew before ordering the vehicle forward. As Lee guided the heavy LAV to a halt near McRae, he couldn't help wondering when the brass band would appear - they'd had just about everyone else show up!

There was a flurry of activity as everything got straightened away for transit.

Seeing the show was about ready to hit the road, the news crew ceased filming and climbed into their van, then headed to the far entrance at the western end of the yard.

All business, Tricia spared a second for a quick wave to Ben.

Fox reported that the vehicle weapons all checked out. Kelsey and Chris mounted up. Inside the cramped passenger bay, the closed-circuit TV monitor was switched on, so that those riding inside could see what the turret was currently pointed at outside.

The ship's captain waved back at Ben, although the rest of the Church's crew seemed hard at work, preparing to cast off and start the trip to their next port of call.

At the other, western entrance, the guard opened the gate to let the news crew through, as they were going to travel a slightly shorter route. The driver, Damien, nodded at Taras as he got into his jeep and started it up. He quickly drove back over to the eastern end of the yard area, where the LAV was stopped so that McRae could climb down the metal ladder from the building roof to mount up. The security guard followed on his Honda ATV.

The RCMP Suburban was waiting at the closed east gate, LAV stopped behind it. Taras pulled in behind the armoured (relative) giant. Ben could easily look back and down into the open-topped vehicle, and noted the radio set in back, and AKS-74U, pack and ammo chest-harness sitting in the front passenger seat beside the driver.



The guard pushed open the chain-link gate. Khandola got out, leaving the SUV to idle with the engine running.

He looked up at the LAV's driver, standing on the seat so her head was out the driver's hatch, goggles and CVC helmet on her head. The preferred driver's position was sitting down and looking through video screens (or periscopes if all else failed) but she wasn't quite that familiar yet with this monster.

"Now Sergeant Lee, we are going to go straight north along Balaclave to South West Marine Drive, then turn west down Marine to the roablock we call "Checkpoint Charlie"."

"Once through the roadblock we continue to proceed directly to the UBC campus. You must have been there some time in the past!"

"We will meet 2 RCMP-marked Suburbans and 4 motorcycles waiting along the way, the route security elements. They will fall in, in front and behind as we meet them."

"We will travel between 40 and 60 km/h. There should be no reason to stop. Please have identification ready when we get to the perimeter checkpoint for verification."

Any questions?"

They exchanged radio frequencies and call-signs to ease communications between the three vehicles.

[OOC: Should no one have any input, I will move things along ASAP.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:11, Mon 04 Feb 2008.

Lee stops and takes her sunglasses off, cleaning them on her shirt as the other Mountie explains the road move. "No questions here. We're ready."

The heavily laden LAV together with the trailer dwarfed the Ulyanovskiy Automobilnyi Zavod (UAZ) jeep. First close encounter with this type of combat vehicle for Taras and this time it will be not only in front, but also on his side .

Reminds me of the BTR family in its 8x8 configuration. But this one sure packs a good punch with that automatic gun.

The roar of engines and the plumes of smoke came to fill the atmosphere of the shipyard. A few curious seagulls were circling above. The clouds were making their appearance. A common sight in the city of Vancouver has learnt Taras.

Hopefully will make it to the Faculty before the rain. The red haired Ukrainian was not as happy with this first encounter as he expected. The strange behaviour of the Canadian Forces members in their arrival left him puzzled. There will be time to find out more about this. A chirping bird distracted his thoughts for a moment...

Great, a motorcade, Ben thought to himself as the details of their move were yelled up to Lee. It amazed him that indentification papers were required. Weren't they supposed to be representing the Canadian government, come to bring this small enclave of knowledge back into the fold?

With a small nod to indicate he understood, Ben turned his attention to the surroundings, careful to keep the '19 pointing in a different direction to the main gun.
"How's everything travelling back there?" he called to the three passengers over the intercom. "Nothing shaken loose during the boat ride?"
He spared a quick glance down to the rear deck to confirm one of the passengers had the C-6 in hand and watching a flank. Probably MacDonald, although he wouldn't have put it past Champlain - she seemed very keen to show her masculine side as often as she could....

Champlain gave him a thumb's-up. She was behind him on the right, C7A1 in hand.

"Ready, LT!"

She tied her camouflage bandanna around her neck in case dust got kicked up.

"Ready to go!"

Chris worked the C6's bolt, making sure he was loaded.

"What are the Rules of Engagement? Weapons loaded (round chambered)?"

Were this a peacekeeping type mission, they would have their rifles unloaded (no bullets chambered save the GPMG/vehicle weapons, but not magazines removed) to give them a margin of safety when it came to escalation. However, in some sense this was a recce.

In truth, they seemed to be in some uncomfortable place in between.

"Weapons at the Action^* condition for now," the order was relayed over the intercom. "We still don't know what the true situation is around here."

^* Magazine/belt attached, weapon cocked, sights raised (for those with folding leaf sights), safety catches engaged.
From this condition, firing is a simple matter of flicking off the safety/burst selector with the thumb (or whichever digit is closest) and squeezing the trigger.

In one motion, Kelsey simply thumbed the bolt catch on her C7A1, chambered a round by stripping one off the top of the magazine with a metallic "Clack!", then switched on the safety.

"Loaded and locked!"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:20, Wed 06 Feb 2008.

There was a louder metallic "Ka-CLACK-ping!" as Chris pulled back the C6's charging handle.

"SIXTEEN IN THE CLIP AN' ONE IN THA HOLE!"

He held the GPMG's butt against his shoulder, keeping it firm with his left hand on the bottom of the stock.

Looking at McRae he joked, "any commie squirrels we meet are gonna be dead socialist nut-gathering motherfuckers!"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:23, Wed 06 Feb 2008.