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OMICRON REPORT
Seattle Dynatronics. 010531, 0330
Cutting through the night, the Scout Helo slipped towards its goal. At the control stick, Ian the Mad-Bomber, struggled with several issues. First, the roughly five and a half ton load he was carrying was near the load limit for the Helo. The damnable computer weighed as much as a houst. Agh!! he thought to himself. Second, having an under slung load effectively destroyed his stealth characteristics, and now only massive ECM could protect him. Third, and what irked him the most was that Petyr was paired up with Kham last mission and not him!! He'd have to teach Petyr a lesson for that. And the way I figure it, he doesn't really need all his fingers anyway.
As the first rays of morning were breaking out over the horizon, Ian was within sight of Dynatronics Seattle. Then with a few calls over the radio a heavy-lift fork truck was waiting for him to deliver his cargo. He could see the sleek black ultra-lights being slid into the garages so the rest of the team was there. But back to the job before him.
Ian took control of the bird, and with the precision of a brain surgeon he deposited the gigantic computer directly onto the long forks. When the Retired Op Ground Controller gave him the thumbs up and an unhook command he pulled the release on the cargo hook and immeadietly the Helo sprang up without its burdensom load. Ian waved and banked to the side. The Helo swerved over to the rear parking lot and he set down about twenty yards from the team. The cargo door opened and Ian hopped out, the engine still running. The ground crew of Retired Ops ran up and began re-fueling as Ian walked over to the Team. "Agh!! Howzit goin'??"
Everyone looked at him and smiled, everyone but Kham and Petyr, but he wasn't put off. They never smiled. Masque spoke up first, "We're going to take the rest of the day off and then meet back at the warehouse at 1800 today. Then we'll head out to The Academy."
"Agh! Soundz good to me."
"Remember my plan. Secrecy is important now, but I know you all know what I am talking about." Doctor Payne scanned the group with a stare that blazed down over the top of his nose. "When I say NOW!. Then is our time to act." Everyone just nodded.
The team split up after their brief meeting and requisitioned stolen vehicles from the parking lot and went their seperate ways. The only one who didn't drive was Beggay, he took the Helo. Ian was of course off to the bar to spend his free time. Petyr didn't tell anyone where he went, he just hopped on his bike and took off. Doctor Payne and Otter went to get steak dinners, but unbeknowst to the rest of the team, they had another secret meeting with their anonymous source. Dodger went to the Library; Masque went to Macy's, then to Barnes and Noble; and Kham went down-town to beat up gang bangers. What better ways to relax...
1800.
Everyone met at the Warehouse at the appointed hour, none the worse for wear. Ian was a little topsy, and Kham had a scrach on her oh-so-perfect shoulder. But all in all Team 203 was in tip-top shape. "Redy to load up?" Petyr asked everyone. A collection of nods and one or two grunts were all he got by way or reply. "Den letz not keep Drake vaiting. If ve aren't five minutes early, ve'are late." Everyone nodded, and shuffled towards the chopper. Only Red Moon was in a good mood. She sat in the cockpit and smiled, the sleek spandex that shrouded her body hidden below the canopy. Her helmet was going side to side scanning the sky-line. Slowly the team shuffled up and onto the roof where Red Moon was waiting. Their poor mood was a result of the few short hours of freedom they just had Petyr figured. As soon as people started shooting at them again, they'd return to their normal selves.
The three hour flight to The Academy in New Mexico was pretty boring. Agh! I hate these, Ian thought as he plugged up his bleeding nose. "Whatcha hafta go and hit me for eh?" he said to Kham. She looked at him as if it were the plainest thing in the Galaxy. Otter giggled, sitting right beside Kham.
"Ian, you were playing footsie with me. No one plays footsie with me." Kham said in a deep sultry voice that was as cold as ice.
"Agh!" Ian said with a smile. "So I waz yur first, eh luv?" WACK! SLAP! "OW! Sheet!!" Ian bellowed. Otter giggled again as Kham slapped in on the tip of his nose with a whip like strike from her hand. Kham looked at the youth and immeadietly silenced Otter.
"Ah can't believe you'd give me a bluudy nose over footsie, fuking bich."
SLAP!
"Agh! Damnit bich."
SLAP!
"Ow, wu-man."
SLAP!
"Son-uva-bich."
SLAP!
"Kuttit out would ya!"
SLAP!
"What wuz that fur!?!"
SLAP!
"AGH!! Bich!"
SLAP!!
Ian tried pittifully to dodge or block her slaps but each landed on his face, forhead, or ribs. Otter was giggling so hard he almost fell to the floor, then her powerful elbow-jab to his ribs sprawled him out on the cargo bay floor. He continued to giggle.
Masque and Petyr just shook their heads at the little soap opera going on in the cramped cargo bay of the Scout Helo. "What do you think Drake is going to ask us?" inquired Masque.
"I do not know," Petyr said as he shrugged, "but I assume you are overprepared."
"Oh yeah Commrade," Masque replied. "I've got overheads and powerpoints and pictures and scans and satallite photos and the reams of data we've collected. I pretty much got it all."
"Everything except the one answer he's going to want to hear." Doctor Payne looked up from staring at the floor between his feet. Masque had thought he was asleep. Sitting right in front of him the Doctor continued, "Everything except the answer to where the Grays are and how to destroy their networks in the Northwest."
"Again, as usual Doctor, you are correct," Masque said. "But I hope this should do." The three master-minds shook their heads in agreement and waited for the soft thump of landing, but Red Moon might not even give that much of a sign.
The Academy, New Mexico. 010601. 0700
"Thankyou for flying the Black Op Express. Please exit the plane through the concourse to your right and have a nice day." She could have shouted from the cockpit, but instead chose to annoy the hell out of the rest of the team and use the radio like pilots were wont to do. Otter swung open the cargo door and hopped out, immeadieatly beginning his scan for hostile targets.
Right behind him The Master of the Electromagnetic Spectrum, Dodger, alighted onto the tarmac. His thin frame and light build sagged under the load he was carrying. Two big duffles on his back as well as a lap-top case and a Cyber-deck case bowed his legs and stooped him over. Kham walked up beside him and took one of the duffles, curling it up and setting it on her shoulder. Her bicep bulged out larger than any muscle in Dodgers body. "Here, let me help you with that Geek," she said.
"Oh, thankyou my sweet lady of Death." Dodgers tone was appreciative but the sharp words from his tounge wouldn't have lead you to believe that. Kham just smiled. Ian was drooling as she swagered across the tarmac, one arm at her side and the other clutching the Duffle over her shoulder. Ian never wanted to be a duffle bag more in his entire life.
The walk across the scorching grounds of The Academy had reminded Masque about many things, but none of them Russia. Mostly of his days here as a Cadet and the constant fear that you would end up dead before your next meal. Ah, those were the days. Though he had not had alot of time to reminesce, the walk was long enough for him to break out in a pretty heavy sweat. He wasn't alone as he looked at the rest of the team. As they confidently strode down the hallway to Conference Room 32, Masque looked each over. Dodger sweat the most, dark circles broke out under his baggy skaters shirt. Petyr must have been the hottest in the black leather biker jackets he preferred, but he didn't show it at all. He just wiped the sweat off his brow once. Doctor Payne sweat the least; perhaps it was easy to stay cool when you'd spent three decades on ice, Masque mused to himself. Ian and Otter were about average, both being pretty young and in good shape. Kham though looked the best, even covered in sweat she still looked like a million dollars. The sweat on her skin just produced a shine on her arms and legs that only added to the sexiness of her open white, buton down shirt and tight black dress that would turn any man into butter. Tearing his eyes off Kham wasn't easy, but his mind needed to be elsewhere now. He let it wander over the topics and details he had for the presentation.
Masque found he was taking in the plain dark gray colors of The Academy, and the heavy tile floors. The entire building cried out function before form. With one last thought he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, then they were at the meeting room door.
At the door to Conference Room 32 Otter held the Door and Petyr was the first in. Inside were the familiar folding metal chairs arrayed in rows facing the large black table. This was where we all first met, he thought to himself as everyone filed in and had a seat at the empty room. Just a few papers on the desk and a idle lap top computer. Dodger focused on the computer as if by will alone he could control it. What if he can? God, that's scary. "Petyr, how long do think Drake will keep us waiting?"
"I say ten minutes." He replied in an almost conspiratorial tone.
"Ok. Ten bucks says fifteen minutes," Otter said.
"You're only vastink your money." Petyr looked Otter straight in the eye, but Otter was a combat op and they never backed down. "You'are on."
Masque looked around and wondered if they were being monitored. Probably. "Dodger, get ready with the presentation."
"Will do my High Lord of Disguise," Dodger said with a grin.
Somehow Petyr was right, because exactly ten minutes after they walked in, the door opened up behind them. In strode the walking shadow they'd come to know as Drake. The man moved without a whisper and his totally black clothes didn't even seem to crease as he walked. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat. "Report."
Masque looked over at Doctor Payne and began, "Things have been proceeding well, and we believe we have several very good leads. Just this morning Kid offered to help with a lead on Northrop-Grumman activities in British Columbia. He should be there now and we are going to join him immeadietly after the debriefing." Drake nodded, and Masque continued on for a full two hours. Dodger spoke up intermittently as did everyone else when small details related to them came up.
"Finished?"
Masque looked at Drake and nodded.
"Good--"
"I just have one thing to add," said Doctor Payne. "I've been giving it a great deal of thought the past few weeks." He paused for effect as he was wont to do. "NOW!!" he shouted. Everyone in the room remained seated. "NOW!! We have a plan. NOW!! I said," looking back everyone just looked away or crossed their legs. "NOW! or never!" He sat back down and huffed at the rest of the team. "Ugh..." he sighed heavily.
"Finished?" asked Drake.
"NOW!" he shouted and made to leap from his chair, "I am," he said without getting up. He exhaled heavily again.
"Then you are all dismissed," Drake said witout a trace of emotion. Dodger and Masque grabbed what little electronic gear that was used and followed everyone out into the hall.
Doctor Payne looked at everyone, "I'll remember this," he said with the faintest glimmer of a smile.
I wonder if he is just smiling cuz he's kidding around, or if its because he is contemplating ouf missery... Masque decided not to dwell on it because he wanted to get to sleep tonight.
1000.
After leaving The Academy main building they headed over to the Air Field Cave. Since The Company made exclusive use of VTOL craft and helicopters they didn't have any need for a big airfield. Inside were a collection of Advanced Tactical Fighters, the heavy lift cargo planes and a myrid of Cargo, Attack, and Scout helicopters. Red Moon had traded their Scout for a Cargo chopper and loaded a submersible zodiac raft in the back. As the team walked up, they actually got a look at her when she was out of the cockpit. She seemed to favor spandex; her long legs and limber arms were held in by a tight black suit. Presumably it also served some ulitarian functions but in it she would definetly stand out in a crowd. The only other thing she wore was a light vest and a pistol belt. "Ready to go," she asked in a soft pur. Everyone but Masque nodded enthusiastically. "Damn. Well lets get airborne!"
"Red Moon, we're going til nightfall before we depart and use the time to finish off preperations, as well as our plan. So just sit tight, Kay?" Masque said. Petyr nodded in assent, thus sealing the plan.
"Roger that Masqueman."
2000.
The following hours were spent ironing out the plan and preparing for their trip to British Columbia like Masque said. Then the difference was spent resting, something they had precious little time to do. Petyr, Ian, Otter and Kham would be ready to take action on the raft. That meant they'd be wearing heavy insulated dry suits, and have Draeger diving rigs, as well as backup bubbleless breathing tubes. Underwater Soviet firearms were their weapons of choice. (The Soviets made the most reliable and dependable underwater weapons. So much that The Company didn't think it was worthwhile to out-do them.) The rest of the Team, Beggay, Dodger, Masque, and Doctor Payne would be outfitted for overland operations. Masque also had formal wear as well as factory, and office worker disguises packed along. Doctor Payne brought a vial of Ebola because he was feeling fistey. As Petyr and Ian were double checking the last of the thousand things that could go wrong with an underwater op for the tenth time, they finally pronounced the boat sound-for-operations and rolled it up the rear ramp of the Cargo Helo.
"Welcome aboard the government-toppling skies. We hope you aren't a small third world nation and that you can enjoy the flight." Red Moon rambled on in some twisted paradoy of an Airline pilot as she gently tilted the massive birds rotors. This gave the tilt-rotor cargo chopper just a bit of forward thrust and it taxied out to the door. The Big-Light was green, so that meant there were no Satallites overhead that The Company wasn't corrupting, so it was safe to take off. "We've been cleared for take off by the most evil organization on Earth. Please fasten your seatbelts and don't scream if you get scared." Otter giggled in the back and Ian had a big swig from a flask, but everyone else seemed pretty unamused. Nonetheless she poured on the throttle, and brought the rotors to the full upright position and the Cargo Helo almost jumped into the air. At two hundred feet she pitched over the rotors and leveled out at five hundred feet. Going six hundred miles an hour, they should be there in two hours.
Over Wiliston Lake, BC. 2200.
Red Moon navigated somewhat roughly through the hills and valleys of British Columbia. The seven members of Team 203 rocked from side to side in their canvas web chairs inside the cavernous interior of the Cargo Helo. Just larger than the inside of a school bus it was cavernous when compared to the small-minivan interior of the Scout chopper. Damn I miss Blue Duck, Masque thought to himself as he looked around at his six companions. For a fleeting second The Seven Samurai jumped into his brain. I wonder who the imposter Samurai is, and who Mr. Perfect is?? He chuckled to himself as he looked at Otter. Yup, he's the young kid. But back to Blue Duck. Only a world class pilot could navigate through these hills at twenty feet of altitude at over three hundred miles per hour and not turn him and his craft into a shallow crater. But Blue Duck could do it without making us sick, Masque thought as another wave of nausea washed over him. Shit.
Masque sat looking at the same dumb terminal that Petyr was. A half inch thick color LCD screen with only enough processing power to handle the high speed graphics and communications that it displayed. Each was looking at a camera view: Masque from a Satallite, and Petyr from Blue Duck overhead in an ATF with a micro-spy pod. Masque was taking his time panning around the compound they were going to infiltrate. The main access road came in from the west-northwest. It branched into four gravel roads at the compound mall. The mall had short grass and a eight story tall observation tower. The four roads went north to some warehouses, northeast to the docks, east to four small buildings (each about 3000 square feet), and winding up a hill south to a large, two-story mansion like house (probably over 50,000 square feet). The mansion was an expensive log cabin style with light made to look like lanterns and bright green wood shingles. His team of three were to meet up with Kid somewhere west of the compound. The Satallite showed motion detectors in the forest as well as some passive sonic detectors. Those will need incredible filtering programs to be effective, but if they're there -- they must be effective. Then after the team made it inside the compound, Masque would infiltrate the cabin. While Dodger and Doctor Payne checked out the four small buildings and the warehouses, respectively. That would leave Kid in an overwatch capacity.
Petyr meanwhile was scanning his dumb terminal for clues about the small freighter that was making its way due north towards the compound's dock. It was making a steady seven knots through the cold waters. Their raft could only make nine knots submerged, so they'd have one shot at taking it from the side. If they screwed up they'd have to surface and make a much more dangerous approach to have the time they would need to check out what its cargo was. Ian would also have to attach himself to the large vessel and ride along until he could place the charges that would destroy it. He would wait until it was at the dock then swim out to the middle of the lake after the charge was in place and wait for a pickup. All of this was incredibly dangerous because they would do it underwater, in the cold, at night, and rely heavily on GPS. If the GPS failed, that would mean surfacing and possibly being spotted. But the alternative, finding Ian underwater in the dark, was totally impossible. He grimaced at the thought of it.
"Hey troopers," Red Moon's voice said over the intercom. "ETA ten minutes to feet wet, then two minutes to DZ One."
A few shouts and a bit of profanity from Ian let gave her their acknowledgement. Petyr, Ian, Otter, and Kham moved around in their chairs and checked their weapons again. Then Petyr signaled to get in position as the second clicked away to DZ One. That was where Red Moon would stop to debark the Water Element; Petyr's half of the team.
2213
Everyone felt the helo slow down drastically as Red Moon brought the nose almost seventy-five degrees up into the sky and pulled the engine pods up into their vertical position. Petyr and Masque traded thumbs up as the rear cargo hatch went down and touched the water. Kham and Otter were the first in as the boat slid out the back. Then Ian and Petyr hit the icy cold waters of Lake Winiston. Immeadietly the boat began to submerge and the four of them climbed over the side to take their seats. Ten seconds later the cargo hatch was coming up as everyone got their last glimpse of Petyr's Group.
"Hang on!" Red Moon called over the intercom as she jacked the collective, tilted the nose at the ground, built speed and then brought down the engine pods to horizontal position.
2233.
Red Moon held the chopper in a steady hover with the belly just touching the tree tops below. The rear cargo hatch opened and Masque tossed the fast-rope out the back. He grapped the rope and began the one hundred foot descent to the forest floor. Dodger was right behind him and Doctor Payne was the last man out. Beggay unhooked the fast rope and it fell to the ground. He then dropped back into a canvas seat and the two Spike helicopter robots came to life and flew out the back. Jacked into his Rig he sent a short radio chirp to Red Moon. She recognized it as the Done signal and closed the rear deck. She then brought the helo up into a medium altitude search pattern and looked for a place to set down to conserve fuel. Ten minutes late she found a heavily wooded area with a clearing just large enough for the big bird. She set it down and began deploying the camo netting auto-system. Ten minutes after that she sat out under a tree with the Dyna-Heavy Battle Rifle on the lookout for interlopers.
2220.
Beneath the black waters of the lake the four in the Submerged raft shivered in the cold. It was their enemy now; the cold. A terrible demoralizer that would kill them in minutes if anything went wrong. Petyr was driving the boat and Ian was watching things on the surface through the periscope. Otter and Kham were hunched forward holding onto their handle bars in resistance to the hydrodynamic flow. Petyr was going over the calculations to rendevious with the boat at the proper loaction. Cutting through the inky darkness chilled to the bone Petyr just maintained his setting. When Otter began flapping his right arm wildly, in the signal for Target Ahead, Petyr almost bacame excited. Ian began signaling small last minute changes to bring them up to a good interception. Petyr followed.
Then Petyr saw it, only thirty feet to port. He turned the throttle all the way open and looked at the batteries. The meter showed only sixty percent capacity left. Just one shot at this. Gotta have enough to get out. Petyr then began to change course to come up along side and tapped Ian to lower the periscope.
As he came alongside he reached over to Kham and gave the Surface command. She began to work the ballast tanks and the air tanks to blow them out. Slowly the raft came up towards the surface. Petyr maddly tried to start the closed circuit Outboard, then it started after four pulls. As soon as it started the air tanks began to fill and the battery began to recharge, giving them extra time on the way out. Directly beside the ship their hulls wanted to pull themselves togther because of the dynamics of flow between two hydrodynamic bodies, and Petyr fought to control it. Otter and Ian pulled out the titanium caving ladder and hooked it to the side of the boat. With monkey like grace, Otter pulled himself up to the top and looked over the side. The Thumbs Up meant it was clear and Kham took the controls from Petyr so that he could follow. When he got to the top of the ladder he peeked over to check the situation. He and Otter had agreed that Otter was watch dog and Petyr would check the ships hold. Otter was nowhere to be seen. Until he checked the ships boom. Way up at the top Otter was perched like a cat. Far above the ships lights he sat like a hawk. Petyr, knowing he was safe, hopped over the side and dropped into the hold. Landing on a wood crate, he began searching the steel freight containers.
Ian had just checked the kevlar body suit he wore, the rapelling harness, and the magnets. The strange setup was necessary to be sure that he could stay on the bottom of the ship and carry out his mission; blow up the ship. He wouldn't have attacked such a dangerous mission with this degree of preparedness or determination if he wasn't going to get to blow it up. As Kham was keeping the raft steady he hefted on his four limpet mines. Each weighed fifty pounds: two on his back, one on his buttocks, and one on his chest. He reached over to the boat as Kham brought them righ along side, and attached his first magnet at the waterline. Then with a quick slap of the hand, he swatted Kham's ass, and dropped over the side of the boat with an "ARRRR!" Kham couldn't even kick him. Every limb was being used to keep the boat on course. She damned Ian for taking advantage of her helpless state and concluded she would throttle the little runt when they were back at base.
As Ian was climbing hand over hand using the magnets to get to the keel, Petyr was busting open his fourth steel freight container. Inside they contained scores upon scores of wrapped parts. To an airplane he would guess or a very advanced submarine. He snapped off a dozen rolls of film, the whole time the digital video camera was running attached to his head set. By the end of the hour he had a massive catalog of data. Two clicks over the radio told him the ship was thirty minutes away from the dock so he closed up the container and climbed over the side. Otter was right behind, and when he was in the raft he pulled down the caving ladder. Petyr took the controls and signaled Kham to submerge the raft.
When they were below water they could see Ian, hanging onto the magnets with two hundred pounds of shaped charges strapped to his body. Amazing, Petyr thought. Amazingly brave or stupid. Kham gave Ian the one finger wave. In noticed and returned her obvious show of affection with the come-jack-me-off-now signal. Kham's temperature rose five degrees despite the ice cold waters. Petyr then pulled the boat away and decelerated to save batteries. Quickly the ship disappeared into the blackness up ahead of them and was then gone. Throughout their entire operation not one word or one radio call had been traded. Because of the stealth and their medium they operated at 150%, this was a level not even Navy SEALs or Delta Foce could match.
2245.
Masque, Dodger, and Doctor Payne crept through the forest at a slow stealthy pace. The darkness wrapped around them like a cloak. In that order they split their attention so Masque watched ahead, Dodger both sides, and Doctor Payne the rear. Each walked about ten yards from the other because they were trained to see in the dark and could almost feel each others presence. Thus they had no need to close up and hold each others shoulders. After about a half hour of sneaking Masque's mind wandered, I wonder if Kid will be able to find us, we're being really stealthy.
Just then, as if by questioning, a whispered voice came through from a tree beside them, "Apple."
Masque immeadietly recognized the call word and whispered back, "Crisp." Then to the collective surprise of all three, part of the tree stood up. Wearing a Ghille suit that matched the bark and moss of the tree 100% Kid stepped into their midst and pulled back his hood and opened his vest. They stared at the amount of gear he was carrying. Pouches and pockets were sewn onto everything. The backpack he left by the tree had two rifles on it, a bow and arrows, and was bigger than Dodger. Kid noticed their stares, "When you're on your own, there's no one to help you carry everything."
Doctor Payne nodded in agreement as the other two were just in awe. "Glad to have you with us. I am a super-genius." Doctor Payne extended his hand and Kid took it.
"Glad tomeecha," he drawled out in a thick northern accent.
"Well, lets keep moving," Masque whispered. Everyone nodded, Kid shed the Ghille and rolled it up. Then he grabbed his pack and they continued on their way.
2345.
An hour later they were at the treeline to the compound. Forty-five minutes earlier they had gotten past the sensors with a little help from their friend Dodger. Now they all looked at each other and split up their seperate ways after a short click-click radio check.
Masque spent an hour crawling over the cold grass, and through the damp forest getting to the back side of the mansion. About halfway up the hill a pair of roving guards passed within ten yards of him. Did I forget to mension there were guards? Sorry. They're also armed with the best weapons H&K could provide. These two carried HK53's, which were 5.56mm NATO variants (sort of) the HK MP5. In total, Dodger estimated that there were over two hundred armed guards on the compound, but by and large the Team just ignored them, they were insignificant when compared to the power of the Black Ops.
Dodger had a much longer crawl that took nearly two hours to get back behind the small buildings. He had to stop three times because of guards. But he eventually made it there, though Masque was already inside the Mansion by then. Doctor Payne on the other hand, had the shortest sneak. Only forty-five minutes, most of it spent waiting to cross the main access road. After that he walked leisurely through the forest, spinning his whipit around his finger, on his way to the warehouse. (He knew he was inside the security sensors perimiter, and not guards worked in the forest -- he was a genius, he knew he had it made.)
Outside Compound. 010602, 0045.
Masque was laying down in the underbrush observing the compound below. It was dark tonight. The moon was obscured behind clouds and its platiunum rays neither helped nor hindered him. Scarcly moving he pulled the Longbow rifle from off his back and slid on the telescopic night vision scope. Time to see what's going on in there. Lazily he dragged the barrel across all the windows in the Mansion. Hmmm... Looks like a party goin' on in there, he thought to himself. Ladies in dresses and men in formal wear definetly seemed out of place. But the world is the rich's playground as the saying goes. As the couples arm in arm and waiters with towels over their arms had champaigne Masque decided he should not miss out on a good party. So shrugging out of his combat gear and hastily changing into a pair of black pants and white shirt he got ready to go. He covered himself with his black fatigue jacket and tucked his pair of 9mm Sap Machine Pistols in his belt. Time to bust up this party.
Doctor Payne strolled around the warehouse, peeked in its windows and wondered what he should do next. Dodger, was still crawling towards his target. Back at the Mansion, Masque had hustled down to the back of the Mansion and was crouched beside the dumpster. Its pretty empty, so it shouldn't be too long before a servant takes out the trash. True to his word he only waited ten minutes before the door came swinging open and a servant tossed a bag of garbage up onto the dumpster. Masque made his move. As the garbage bag left his hand at the top of his swing, Masque's blow connected with his temple. The man immeadietly began to crumple, but Masque grabbed his belt and hefted him back bahind the dumpster. Quickly taking his hat and jacket he checked his pockets, nothing. Good. No cards. Using the mans shirt he wiped off his camo paint as best he could. Then stood up, adjusted the jacket to be sure it covered the pistols, he walked inside.
0100.
Pulling open the four foot wide metal service door was easy and immeadietly bathed him in sounds, lights, and noises. All of them revolved around a party. Servers hustled back and forth with hour'de ovres and wine. Trays rolled out with plates of food. Looks like the third or fourth course, Masque thought. Mmmm. Chicken. Then this big fat chef shouted at him, "Hey, Chuck! Finish taking out the garbage!" Masque looked to his left, there were four more bags of garbage. He just nodded and grabbed two. Avoiding voice so he wouldn't give himself away, he took them and went outside. These will hide the body nicely. Then he went back in and got the last two. This time he walked inside with a purpose, and headed straight down the hall past the fat chef. There was where he saw the drink servers. He grabbed a towel, draped it over his forearm, and got into the rotation to get a serving tray with ten glasses of champaigne on it. Gotta get out of this gig if I'm going to learn anything. So, as he went out towards the main area, he kept his eyes open. Nothing back here but storage space and service preperation areas. As he turned the last sharp corner to hide the working serfs from the eyes of the elite, a room decked in opulant furnishing greeted him. A giant banquet hall with a large balcony above all the service area held perhaps one hundred guests. Enough to prevent a feeling of emptiness, but not packed to give a feeling of sardines-in-a-can.
Judging by the jewelery of the guests they were all very wealthy. Many of the decorations on the walls were originals. A Ming vase was over by the string quartet, and those that sat by the fire sat in Ottomans that were good enough for Hapsburgs. Masque filtered out into the crowd, observing all the rules of being a good servant. Eyes down and no speaking didn't give him much chance to mingle, so he got to a side wall. Ditching the tray he headed down a hallway to the bathroom. Two men were walking out, so he hoped there would be one loner.
Unfortunately there were two; on in a stall and the other at the urinal. The good thing is that the bathroom lacked an attendant. That would make my job tough. Masque stood beside the man at the urinal, deliberatly not obeying the silent male code of taking the furthest urinal from the door and any other men at urinals. His hope it would cause the other man to finish fast proved true. During the time Mr. Urinal was washing his hands, no one else entered. Masque then walked into the john with the guy who was using it, and depsite a short "Hey!! What the hell are you..." Masque immobalized him. Then talking his suit jacket, which was luckily black and his shirt, and his ID, Masque then left. It's moments like that, that make this job fun.
Now back out in the party he took a glass of his own champaigne and entered the crowd. Still sipping his drink but having moved through three clusters he realized he was at a high level engi-geek meeting. Gawd! These people are boring. No Sex, no drugs, no violence. Just geeks. Everyone was talking about drag coefficients; compression ratios in engines; blade counts on turbines; field strengths on hugiwitzes. Maybe I shoulda been a geek.
0200.
Outside things were really heating up. Dodger had been interupted four times by guards as he tried to hack into thos buildings computer networks. Actually hacking in was easy. He just cut a small hole in the outside of the wall and mated on a small splitter. Then he was on. It was the security inside that was good. It took him twenty minutes to hack in, but the guards had come by every fifteen minutes. Each time he had withdrawn to the forest in the intrest of security. Then he had reappeared and restarted his hacking only to be interrupted again; four more times. This time he got in quickly thanks to a new program he'd written while waiting for the guards to pass, only leaving a small IR transmitter to keep the network link up.
Doctor Payne was having much better luck. He'd defeated the measly defenses at the building and was now inside parusing around crates and crates of parts. He'd spent some time on their computers looking at the files to whatever was going on here. But one thing was clear to him; the people doing it didn't know what they were doing. The instructions were a step by step type. Like instructions to a four year old on how to tie your shoe written by an MIT Professor. In truth, he didn't know what they were for. That really worried him.
Under the Freighter. 0215.
Ian had just affixed the bombs to the stationary freighter. The propellor had come to a complete halt and he detached himself from the ship. Checking his GPS the ship was at the approximate location of the docks so he was finished. The two hundred pounds were strategically placed to rip the keep, lunch the ship in the air, and then drop it back on the water. The Belly-Flop Effect would snap the ship in half and send it to the bottom of Lake Wiliston in under one minute. Agh!! I'm Great!! Ian thought as he kicked powerfully to get away from the bombs. Being underwater, he'd set a half-hour delay on a sonic detonator. It was like dialing a phone underwater; a version of the radio detonator for limpet mines if you please. When it heard him ring (Ian set a series of pings in it so a natural noise wouldn't set it off), it would detonate. Boom! Surprise! Ha Ha!! Now he just had to meet up with Kham, Otter, and Petyr.
Inside the Mansion. 0215.
Ringing on some expensive crystal pried Masques attention from a wonderfully endowed engineer who definetly knew her stuff. Curses. In a drab and almost nasal voice the speaker said the shipment had arrived and that everyone could proceed to the workshops. Well, looks like I'm going to get a good look at things after all. Masque continued down the hill towards what had previously been called the warehouses. Over his radio he heard Dodger report the Hack was successful, and Kid sending word to Doctor Payne to clear out, guests were on the way.
Masque didn't do any sub-vocalizing, but he did offer the lady his coat, it was cold out. As they stopped and he helped her put it over her shoulders, he looked back and saw what he didn't want to see. Men in plain black suits rushing around with fingers pressed to their ears. Damn, Security found that body. Maybe I should get Tech Dept. to work up a flesh eating bacteria that devours flesh but dies rapidly and that is killed by toilet water... Oh, well, later. "Lori, you're going to have to meet me down there, I forgot my wallet in my heavy coat," he said with a charming smile.
"Sure think Lance," she said and then turned to continue down the hill. Masque stepped to the side to let some people pass, and tied his shoe. He looked up to check the guard in the tower. Ha, his back is turned. Masque dashed to the forest line and out of the few lights that were lit up to guide the engineers down to the workshops. Once in he radioed his Team, "Masque out of the Party. Verify and hook me up."
Kid directed him down the hill to Doctor Payne. There both began peeking through windows to see what was going on. "Not, good, look at." Masque said.
"What, they're just sitting at their desks," Doctor Payne said.
Masque tapped him on the shoulder, "No behind us. Look, they're unloading the frieghter. We'd better get Ian to blow it.
"Right. I mean, I knew it was being unloaded fool. I'm a super genius."
"Then we better depart. Their security is getting fiesty." He nudged the doctor back towards the forest as he opened a radio channel to Ian. "Ian, come in over."
"Agh!! I'm here ya pup."
"Blow, your charges. ASAP."
"I'd be delighted as soon as I'm clear of their blast radius as I don't want to be peeing blood for a month."
"Out," Masque said after their seemingly ten minute conversation on the radio. Hopefully security didn't detect it's signal.
North of the Compound. 0233.
Masque and the Doctor had just hooked up with Kid about a quarter mile from the compound when they saw the explosion. As they turned, they heard the explosion and were greeted by a real fireworks display. Ian had rigged a almost missile like projectile to be shot through the hold as the ship cracked in half. The shaped charge warhead critically weakened the hulls structure, making it crack in half. The molten hot jet of metal was sent fifty feet in the air and the after armor effects were literally fireworks. The blue, violet, red, and white of the burning gunpowder lit the night sky in a perverse fireworks display of carnage. When Masque remembered to breath the ship was already underwater. Ian had outdone himself. Now they just had to meet up with Dodger who had gotten his gear. The last thing was to get back to the helicopter and pick up the other four.
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