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Airport
Jan 17, 2011 14:50:58 GMT -5
Post by Adrian Allister on Jan 17, 2011 14:50:58 GMT -5
Adrian did a double take as he heard the screech of the Humvee. This must be one of the agents the commander was talking about, he thought quickly.
As the agent exited the vehicle and introduced himself, Adrian extended his hand in greeting. "Adrian Allister. I'll be looking forward to working with you. Are you ready to depart?"
Although they were waiting on another operative, he wanted to be certain that his fellow operatives were properly equipped. Time was an important factor, and everyone had to move quickly and efficiently. Adrian was fully geared, both his guns and magazines completely loaded.
As he awaited his response, he casually glanced towards the waiting helicopter, which was still being prepped by the pilot inside.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Airport
Jan 17, 2011 18:49:53 GMT -5
Post by Kruger on Jan 17, 2011 18:49:53 GMT -5
"Ill be ready as soon as this other agent comes.", he replied. He looked over at the helicopter and the looked at Adrian. "So where are you from Adrian?", Lee asked trying to make some form of small talk. Dust kicked up as the Humvee he came in drove away. Looked around the hanger and then he checked to make sure that he filled his mag pouches. He then looked back at Adrian.
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Airport
Jan 17, 2011 21:57:30 GMT -5
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jan 17, 2011 21:57:30 GMT -5
Covering her eyes from the blinding dun as the ebony girl stepped down from her patrol car, floaty vision, everything seemed to be over exposed keeping Pan to a harsh squint on the approach to the hanger. There had been a function in a neighboring apartment the night before and she decided to attend; it wasn't entirely clear what the celebration was to her. Several agents she had worked with pushed Pan into some method of cocktail beverage, becoming aware it was alcohol soon after.
She had never been overladen with so much regret in her life waking up to a ear splitting headache. Ever since Pan's alarm went off she had been trying to work out why she had continued to consumed the substance even after knowing it's contents, recalling the faint feeling over overconfidence that had impaired her judgment throughout the night and subsequently forgetting the rest. The ebony girl wasn't keen to try anything of the sort again.
So the rest of the day up to this point had been spent remedying her sore head. Looking up to check the hanger code and make sure she was in the right place. Two agents were inside, one of them a familiar face. Pan shuddered, the last time they ran into each other he had caught her in a rather emotional state.
Ignoring any judgment. The other agent in the hanger must have been their squad captain, "S.T.A.R.S. Agent Pandora Brooklyn, Sir," she spoke in a dreamy monotone, saluting the Captain briefly.
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Airport
Jan 18, 2011 10:07:25 GMT -5
Post by Adrian Allister on Jan 18, 2011 10:07:25 GMT -5
As Adrian was about to respond to Kruger's somewhat personal question, a S.T.A.R.S. patrol screeched into the hangar, expelling a fair amount of exhaust.
Blinking briefly, he turned in time to see an attractive young woman emerge from the car, fully suited in S.T.A.R.S. attire.
As she introduced herself, she had addressed Adrian as "Captain". He hated this sort of pleasantry, but he showed no signs of emotion as he extended his hand in a friendly gesture after returning her salute. "B.S.A.A. Operative Adrian Allister. I'll be looking forward to working with you," he said, sounding as official as he possibly could. But the way she spoke sent chills down his spine.
He stepped back after several seconds passed, gesturing towards the helicopter. "I trust you two read the document pertaining to this mission. We'll reach Jacksonville by early his afternoon. Once there, we'll target key areas and look for any signs of strange behavior."
As he finished his statement, a cloud of unease formed over his head. He hadn't been this nervous for a while. Nevertheless, he still possessed sufficient confidence.
Without wasting any more precious time, Adrian walked up the entry ramp into the helicopter and promptly strapped himself in. "Are you all ready to depart?" he asked.
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Airport
Jan 18, 2011 12:21:54 GMT -5
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jan 18, 2011 12:21:54 GMT -5
"Yes, sir," Pandora replied following close behind up the ramp, swinging her P90 to her stomach before taking a seat opposite and belting up; she kept the nose of the firearm snug between her legs stopping it from flailing about.
A reluctance to admit not reading the mission statement kept Pan's mouth shut tight when Adrian had asked before. It was unusual for an S.O.A. to be sent on a routine check such as this, and from the state Pan had been in the morning the brief may have slipped her mind. Judging from what Adrian spoke of it sounded as if a bio-hazard threat existed in the capitol.
"Pardon me, Captain," Pandora started, raising her voice over the quickly churning rotor blades, "Might I ask what level of reliability these claims stand by?"
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Airport
Jan 18, 2011 16:28:57 GMT -5
Post by Adrian Allister on Jan 18, 2011 16:28:57 GMT -5
Adrian looked grimly at Pandora. "I was given this mission by my commanding officer. I assure you, he is a reliable person. I don't know about the current situation in Jacksonville, though. We're the first surveillence team they're sending."
As the propellers began spinning rapidly, he knew takeoff was imminent. Less than 3 minutes remained, he predicted.
Pandora seemed unwary of her surroundings, a characteristic usually present when working with new operatives. Adrian himself has nervous, but he couldn't afford to show signs of emotion before the mission even started.
Sighing, he looked back at the hangar, watching Lee double-check his ammo supply.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Airport
Jan 18, 2011 19:05:56 GMT -5
Post by Kruger on Jan 18, 2011 19:05:56 GMT -5
After he made sure he was fully loaded with ammo Lee proceeded to the helicopter. He hoped on and secured his Sig 556 on the weapon strap's by the seat. "So what are your thoughts on this?" he asked. "I mean not on this mission in general but I thought Jacksonville was quarantined." Lee said. He tightened his gloves and buckled himself in. He looked out over the horizon as the copter started to take off. The sun was set in the sky and the cloud cover was normal for the weather here. He waited for an answer over the roar of the rotary blades as the chopper was off the ground.
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Airport
Jan 19, 2011 5:28:49 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jan 19, 2011 5:28:49 GMT -5
“Wait!” A voice yelled into the hangar, just loud enough to be heard over the engine and blades of the helicopter. “No take off!” It yelled again. The owner of said voice stopping in front of the chopper and waving his right hand back and forth. The pilot gave him a wave back, and he gave a quick thumbs up as he sprinted to the back hatch of the bird.
It’d been a b*tch of a day, and it only took one little pin prick to f**k it all up. A flat tire on the jeep that was supposed to bring him to the hangar. Without spending the time to yell and scream about it, Richard Kazlov had done the logical thing in his mind. He ran. From command to the hangar. About a mile from the Command Center where they had called him last minute to take place in the operation. Mainly, because he had operated in Jacksonville before. Used it as a base of sorts for his Raccoon operations. He knew the place, knew the people that could be found around it.
He sprinted to the other side, jumping up onto the back ramp as it was closing. He rolled a few times until he was no longer on the ramp, taking a deep breath or two before springing to his feet.
“S.T.A.R.S. Agent Richard Kazlov.” He said, taking another deep breath. He set a land speed record getting here, he would swear that to God. A mile in less than four minutes. He almost wished he’d had time to start a stop watch, find out if he got the world record. He’d try it later…
“Tire…” He started, a whistling noise coming from his lips followed by shooing his finger out following the course the air would have taken from the tire. Out. It came back to him and he shot a thumbs up, walking over and collapsing into a seat. He fidgeted with the buckles for a moment, finally clicking them in place and waited for the bird to take off.
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Airport
Jan 19, 2011 6:44:20 GMT -5
Post by Lunapocalypse on Jan 19, 2011 6:44:20 GMT -5
Cocking her head to the left in curiosity while watching the partially exhausted man procure a seat beside her. What does he mean by 'tire'? She wasn't so sure through his Russian accent. Does he mean he's tired? Improbable; inconsistent use of social dialogue.
She recalled briefly seeing Richard step out of a Jeep, the agent next to him kicking a tire in frustration, before departing herself for the airfield. His current physical status suggested he had ran the distance. Athletic. Pandora mused, calculating her own departure with his arrival to the chopper. Would have required to run approximately 14.75 miles per hour within 3 minutes, 46 seconds, 300 milliseconds.
"You should choose the Hyundai patrol car next time. Bridgestone tires are more reliable in this weather," beaming a friendly smile, happy to offer advice before turning her attention elsewhere.
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Airport
Jan 19, 2011 21:44:19 GMT -5
Post by Adrian Allister on Jan 19, 2011 21:44:19 GMT -5
Adrian cocked his head, resisting the urge to smirk as another operative clambered onto the plane in a huff. He then turned to answer Lee's statement before he could introduce himself to the new operative. "Apparently Jacksonville was recently targeted as a threat area. I don't know what HQ is thinking, but there's no complaining involved with it."
After he finished speaking to Lee, he turned to the fatigued-looking operative. "And who might you be? I wasn't expecting another member to join us. But judging from how you ran onto the chopper so quickly, I'd assume you're eager to help us. The name's Adrian, by the way. Adrian Allister. B.S.A.A. Operative. I'll be looking forward to working with you, Richard."
If Richard was any slower, the chopper would've taken off without him, leaving him behind in a flurry of wind and potentially shot eardrums. Taking a breath of courage, Adrian felt the helicopter rise off the ground, the turbulence immediately shifting.
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Kruger
Zombie Hunter
War cat dose not approve of your actions. 0.0
Posts: 270
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Airport
Jan 20, 2011 14:26:32 GMT -5
Post by Kruger on Jan 20, 2011 14:26:32 GMT -5
Lee looked at the man as he climbed up into the chopper. He introduced himself as S.T.A.R.S agent Richard Kazlov. Lee then listened to Adrian as he answered his question. He then sat there deep in thought as he wondered what could be happening at Jacksonville. "Two S.T.A.R.S and two B.S.A.A something big has to be going on but what? Then again the organization might take special care since Jacksonville is one of the last areas of civilization left. Well that and Las Vegas but Las Vegas is too dangerous to live at." he was too much in a deep thought as Adrian was talking the Richard.
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Airport
Jan 20, 2011 16:11:42 GMT -5
Post by Mikey on Jan 20, 2011 16:11:42 GMT -5
“Da, Hunday.” He repeated, the pronunciation of the word a bit off. Richard was still trying to master the English language. It wasn’t working out too well.
“Da, they tell me who you are.” He said, waving his hand around to each of them. “They tell me to come to show you way.” He said. “I spend long time in Jacksonveel.” He said. His voice getting slightly louder when the engines and the blades started up. He didn’t show any kind of nervousness when the spot of turbulence hit, but noticed that Adrian looked a bit nervous. He didn’t say anything, just sat in his seat and relaxed for a bit. They had a good ride ahead of them, he didn’t have to check anything. He’d come prepared when Command told him to get to their office for a briefing.
Nothing to do but lay back and take a cat nap.
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Airport
Apr 13, 2011 16:25:11 GMT -5
Post by Le Dark Wolf on Apr 13, 2011 16:25:11 GMT -5
Chapter I: Cold Hearted Soldier 19:00 Zulu Time, Two Months after Operation Double U. They had sent a security detail to keep ‘watch’ over him. The Lord of White Umbrella would have none of their nonsense. Having had stepped off his personal Bell-Boeing V-22 Osprey painted in low-visibility camouflage, the newly arrived executive had himself flanked with Black Operations personnel. A fierce wind blew his way, threatening to unsettle his meticulously set silk tie. Once again, he donned a Dolce & Gabbana suit, this time in a shade of midnight. He dressed for the occasion as always. After all, he was an officer in the Global Pharmaceutical Consortium, the same organization responsible for much of the Bio-terrorism Security Assessment Alliance. Such was the nature of power, that everything it touched, it consumed and dominated. If the Division stood for anything, it stood for power. “Byzantium, to Praetorian Unit, requesting status on the Dark Wolf, over.” “Praetorian Unit, the Dark Wolf is en route to target location. Praetorian remains vigilant, how copy?” “Byzantium acknowledges a solid copy; strike package is ready for delivery, good hunting, out.”He heard them through his ear-piece. They were menacing as always. Infrared goggles darted left and right, followed by soft wheezes emitting from gasmasks. Dark and foreboding, they were his Black Operations soldiers, dogs of war, left by a wolf of battle. Armed with P90 submachine guns, they flanked their lord and master, weapons alert, even if they were deemed to be in friendly territory. The B.S.A.A. could not touch him, even if they wanted to. Officially, here was Mizu no Kenshin, a board member of the Universal Welfare Detachment, a company with a seat in the Global Pharmaceutical Consortium. “Welcome Jackson Ville, Mr. Kenshin” A rather large man approached him. There was a B.S.A.A. insignia ironed to his under-armour like uniform. He chewed on a lollypop, as if it was a sophisticated act of exemplifying his masculinity. The beard upon his half-shaven face reeked of unearned arrogance. Here was yet another upstart, so sure of his abilities. Xavier met his gaze with a polite smile. A Venetian masquerade mask elaborately shaped like a fanged canine decked the Lord of White Umbrella’s face. The Dark Wolf wore masks, beneath masks, beneath masks. “And a pleasure it is to be here.” The B.S.A.A. agent had felt sideswiped, if not taken astray all together. By the decisively-corporate newly arrival’s decadent way of dressing, his personal armed body guards, and the nearly over confident way he walked, one would have assumed that Xavier sized the man up. There was nearly warmth in the man’s voice. It was… subtlety unexpected. “I’m here to retrieve the package on behalf of the GPC. I’m afraid that further details are out of the question, even to me. Much like you, I am, but a humble administrator in this time of crisis.” The Dark Wolf shook the man’s hand. It was then he caught sight of the B.S.A.A. man’s nametag-McMullen. “You guys work quickly. We’ve only finished digging the ‘package’ out of France a few weeks ago.” McMullen coughed. It was obvious that Xavier’s ‘liaison’ felt uncomfortable talking about the subject. “We’ve dubbed it 'The Hive', a massive facility just under our noses. When we found it, the place had been abandoned for a while. That didn’t change the fact that the building’s security measures were still operational.” It took a lot of strength for ‘Mizu No Kenshin’ to pretend to be shocked. “It was… a tragic experience. I still can’t believe…” McMullen continued “that so many of my comrades died. Without even a single enemy to fight...” It took a lot MORE strength for Xavier to not have smirked. “I am sorry for the loss.” The Lord of White Umbrella lied. “But we did find one thing. It seems to be some sort of cryogenic capsule of sorts, manufactured by one of the Umbrella branches, White something or other. We were in the midst of attempting to open it, when you arrived.” “Is that so? Well, don’t let little old me stop you. Please, lead the way. Let’s see what Umbrella tried to keep buried, all those years ago.”
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Airport
Apr 14, 2011 9:12:26 GMT -5
Post by Lunapocalypse on Apr 14, 2011 9:12:26 GMT -5
For so long the white, incandescent beacon of life floated in dark, dreamless sleep; a decade of oblivion held it from true illumination. It waited patiently, strangely filled with unanswered reams of remorse. Making sense of it remained impossible as question and reflection didn't exist, at least not this deep down. "4bpm..."Mirages shimmered, painted unannounced against the void. Each held a similar theme, all taking form of a means of escape; simplest of which being a door, hatch or a window, gradually growing more complicated with context. The beacon grew brighter because of this, provoked by some primordial emotion it did not immediately understand. "Thermal stress in cervical vertebra..."Warmth emerged from somewhere far below bringing with it an energetic sensation, giving the beacon a powerful burn. Aggravated by an urge to move, yet not given power to do so. The mirages drew closer; a want - no - a need to reach out and grab something, anything, and escape boiled within. "Cryoprotectants still in place..."Slowly breaking from paralysis, the flick of a finger, wiggling your toes. Dim sky formed overhead in contrast to the warmth below forming a definitive horizon, creating balance as an end result. More and more desire for escape built on top of itself, blinding light erupting from the beacon. "243.12 Kelvin. 19bpm. Stable..."Bursting into an uncontrollable inferno, light splashed onto the mirages turning them solid and true. Fiery might reached out once more, desperate this time, however fully convinced it would make it. Instead of moving towards its escape, escape moved towards it; a sudden God-like feeling encompassing the life, cheating its void of a tomb. "Reverse vitrification complete. Viscosity levels dropping."Even though it could not see itself holding the door handle, it could feel cool brass in the palm of its hand. It turned the lever... She turned the lever. "Molecular revival confirmed..."Pulling open the door, ethereal light flooded into her field of view. Her escape marked and executed. ___________________________________________________ On the inside, looking out, only ghosts could be seen moving about in bleached backgrounds. Their silhouettes cast onto thick, icy glass which had originally separated atmospheres only moments ago. Muffled voices broke through the barrier; no measure of success heard, only estranged whispers of what was on the other side. A piercing hiss filled the air as the capsule's seal broke away, protesting slightly to its removal after years of loyalty to keeping the subject in stasis. Lid sliding open, freezing air passed between her lips as she took the first glimpse at the future.
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Airport
Apr 14, 2011 17:25:26 GMT -5
Post by Le Dark Wolf on Apr 14, 2011 17:25:26 GMT -5
It was a far cry from what White Umbrella had once possessed. The Bio-Terrorism Security Assessment Alliance operated a ‘study facility’ that examined the effects of bio-organic weapons for the purpose of epidemic prevention and control. It was a ‘study’ facility as opposed to a ‘research’ facility. Gone were the white coated geniuses that suffered from god complexes. Here were the bleeding hearts, trying to make a difference in the world, probing bio-organic weapons for their weaknesses. They were far from the brilliant minds he once had the pleasure of working with. And yet, they were toying with HIS weapons. It was insolence, the mind of Xavier darkly commented.
“Right this way, Mr. Kenshin.” McMullen said, as the B.S.A.A. agent lead him through several white corridors of the Raccoon Memorial ‘Study’ Facility. Already, the Dark Wolf had passed a dozen checkpoints using biometric scanners. They all checked out fine. The man also known as ‘Lord Xavier’ had bought out the company which produced these said scanners years ago. Was it Wilpharma? No, no, they did ‘vaccines’, perhaps it was a branch of the European ‘Soldner’ industries. Whatever it was, the matter had been moot. Power corrupted all. The seemingly well-behaved executive stalked after his B.S.A.A. liaison, his leather-clad John Lobb shoes tapping against polished tiles, as combat boots of his minions followed suit.
“Quite a facility you have here.” The Dark Wolf lied. Even White Umbrella’s ‘rented’ research facility from the United States government was better. The U.S. Army Biological Warfare Laboratories (USBWL) had been decommissioned in the early 1970s. It was then that the Umbrella Corporation simply bought it out. Officially it had been rented out for the research of epidemic control. Unofficially, White Umbrella used it as testing grounds for Umbrella Special Operation Command’s augmented toys. One of which was Project Chromium, his objective for today.
“We make use with what donations we get.” McMullen replied with a rather idiotic smile. Xavier noted that the Global Pharmaceutical Consortium was holding back funds. The twilight that could have sounded the end, was for all intents and purposes nearly at hand. It was odd for him not to smile, at least a little bit. The Dark Wolf spoke in metaphors, and used far too much theatrics sometimes for his own good. Sometimes it was all a matter of deterrence, the more people thought you were insane, the less likely they would try and f**k with you.
“I’ll see to it, that more funds come this way.” Jean ‘Shiro’ Xavier was a bastard. But to be fair, it was a prerequisite to his current job. Several more security checkpoints had been passed; complete with one that examined every atom of one’s being. The B.S.A.A. was cautious about what they studied, and for good reason. After the little group had passed a rather sturdy looking metallic hatch, they’ve found themselves stumbling upon an interesting little scene unfolding before them. It was nearly instinctual; the Dark Wolf spotted the Personnel Containment Capsule as soon as he stepped into the room from the observation window. The armoured cylinder flashed several warnings, as its onboard display screen screamed a warning. Molecular revival process completed… then the old White Umbrella insignia with its sword and shield came up. Men in containment suits, lab monkeys, Birkin once called them, began to try and leave.
“Looks like we’re just on time.” Commented ‘Mizu no Kenshin’. The Dark Wolf’s tone was grim, as opposed to delightful just a moment earlier. His men were already equipping silencers.
“What was that?!” The oblivious B.S.A.A. agent had wondered out loud. He was shot in the skull from behind, execution style, before the capsule fully slid opened.
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