The Great Filter [IC]

[Voshkod]

February 2, 198X

There are certain constants in briefing rooms. Underlit. Overcooled (or perhaps overheated). Whiteboards. An overhead projector. And, in this case, a tinny sound system.

"Churchill en route, Churchill en route, this is Clipper seven one, over."

A pause.

"Uh, Clipper seven one, this is Churchill en route, we copy, go ahead."

Static. The Major coughs. He seems to be fighting a cold. He's a florid man, a uniform a little too tight. Been putting on weight. Looks nervous.

"Churchill, we have traffic at our one o'clock, over."

The gray man sits silently, like always. Gaunt, bald, gray of suit, gray of skin, gray of eyes. He's watching the Major dispassionately.

"Ah, Clipper seven one, negative on traffic, we have nothing on radar, over."

You are seated in a fake leather chair that's seen better days in the depths of a basement under a nondescript building at Fort Leslie McNair on the Potomac. Behind several locked doors, behind a hundred armed guards. In the belly of the beast.

"Understood, Churchill, but we have traffic, two lights, at our altitude, one o'clock, over."

You don't know the people with you. Yesterday, you were in training. Today, they're about to throw you into a mission.

"Understood, Clipper seven one, wait one. We have no transponder and no, ah, no radar returns near your position, over. Change altitude and heading at pilot's discretion to, uh, avoid collision if necessary."

And now you're listening to air traffic control tapes from Churchill, Canada. You're not sure why, but you know you signed away your life, your privacy, your freedom, to sit in this cheap imitation leather chair and listen to a tired air traffic controller talk to a Pan Am 747 somewhere over Canada.

"Roger that, traffic is parallel to our position and . . . ." Static. ". . . closing, traffic is closing . . . pan pan pan . . . ."

The Major snorts into a handkerchief.

"Roger your pan call, Clipper seven one, please advise . . . ." A long pause. "Clipper seven one, we have lost your transponder, over . . . ." A sound of footsteps on the recording. "I'm getting some secondary radar returns. He's going in . . . . he's down . . . . calling Goa Haven to scramble SAR . . . ."

The Major turns off the tape recorder. He clears his throat again and takes a sip of water. "At approximately 23:14 local time yesterday, Pan Am Seven One, a direct flight from Washington to Moscow, went down over the Canadian arctic. One hundred and eighteen passengers, ten crew. Temperature on the ground, with windchill, is about twelve below zero."

"Very sad," says the gray man with a whisper. "Tears will be shed, I'm sure."

The Major twitches slightly. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure. On board the aircraft was a State Department inspection team. Presumed dead. One of them was one of our people from the Aleph unit."

The Aleph unit. The 'forward-facing' part of the Department. The closest thing to a public face, analysts, researchers. You're in the Bet unit. The operators. And then there's the Gimel unit. The executors.

"The President may even make a touching statement," the gray man says with a dry chuckle. "For our honored dead from Foggy Bottom."

The Major closes his eyes, clutches the bridge of his nose. "Yes. Our man was . . . screened against certain influences we thought might be present in Moscow. We need his body back. Quickly. You'll be going in as part of a crash response unit from the National Transportation Safety Board. They've been informed that we have a . . . national security interest at stake, so they won't ask any questions. You'll meet with a representative from the Canadian services. Give him the cooperation necessary, but nothing more. Secure our man's body, get it home."

"Pack for the cold," the gray man says.

"NTSB is scrambling out of National in four hours. You'll be on the flight," the Major says. "Questions? He passes around some requisition forms.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm Richter

Wilhelm straightened himself in his chair.
He pressed his fingers against his eyes, to try to regain focus.

During the last 15 minutes, he had been on the verge of falling asleep, as it always happened to him during briefing sessions.

I wasn't that he was bored, or disrespectful. He thought it had something to do with the whole situation. The dim light, the off-voice that wasn't really talking to him (Or wasn't refering to him at all), the bad quality cigarettes (Which weren't as bad as the ones he had in East Berlin, save for Cuban cigars)... And the coffee. God, the coffee.


But, despite his stunned aspect, he had been able to listen to the important pointers in the mission. As always.

Wilhelm raised his hand and said:

"Herr Major, I have a few questions"

He cleared his throat and went ahead:

"First, where has ze plane crashed? How far away is it from civilization?"

"Second, is there any authorized information on ze cause of the crash that might concern us to improve the mission's chance of success?"

Wilhelm smiled after that question. American officers shared classified information with almost the same joy than KGB ones.

And he was sure that the cause of the crash was classified.

A flying object that is seen from the plane but not detected by the radar from the Control Tower?
And that coud be blamed for the "accident"?


"Third, are there any guidelines ve have to follow vhen dealing with survivors of the crash, if any?

Fourth, How should we proceed if the Aleph member is alive?"

Fifth and last, if an enemy faction gained access to he body of the Aleph member, should we recover untouched despite circumstances or destroy it?

Wilhelm reclined against his seat, waiting for the answer of his superior officer.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan sprawled in his chair with his eyes closed, chewing on the stub of his cigarette. He listened to the recording with only half a ear, letting the drone of the voices become a buzz at the back of his head. He didn't like to listen to dead men talk, 'specially since finding out the hard way that sometimes, dead men didn't stay dead. Whatever he needed to know, he'd be told after.

So he opened his eyes and sat up a little when the Major turned the recorder off and started talking, nervous and officious as always. Aidan absorbed the info in bite-sized chunks.

Pan Am. Moscow. Canadian Arctic. Temperature 12 below 0.

His eyes flicked to the gray man when he spoke; his lips twitched. Spook. Scared the crap out of Aidan, even after everything he'd seen already. Didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

Aleph Unit. 'Measures Against Influences'. NTSB cover. Retrieval mission.

Aidan sat up proper, stretching the kinks out of his neck and shoulder. He took one of the requisition forms and jotted down his usual - rifle, handgun, backup, cold wear, ration pack, etc. etc., while he kept half an ear on what the German with the ridiculous accent was asking. Russian defector. Double agent? Well, Aidan wouldn't take chances.

He tapped his pen against the form and looked up at the German.

"I'd like to lead on from that." He said and turned to look at the Major. "What kind of enemy presence, if any, are we looking at? You got any intelligence about local terrain? Any beasties we need to look out for?


He paused for a moment and went ahead with the question he had in mind. "What can you tell us about why you need the body so urgently, so far as it would affect our safety and the success of the mission?

[Voshkod]

"Good questions, Richter," the Major says. "The plane is down on King William Island in the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. No population centers for a few hundred miles. The crash is a mystery. The Canadians are on the ground now, starting their air crash investigation but, since the plane was ours, we get to put our people in as well. As for survivors . . . ." The gray man smiles widely, and the Major continues. ". . . as for survivors, there won't be any. If there are, though, somehow . . . well, help them out and find out what they saw. If our boy is still alive, get him to the Dolce Mountain facility. If, somehow, someone else gets him, destroy the body."

"With fire," the gray man adds.

"Yes," the Major says reluctantly. "Greene, no sign of the Soviets being there - if they are, that's an act of war. Not likely. No known . . . other presences there either. Terrain is ice, tundra, and crap." He pauses. "You don't need to know why we need the body so quickly."

"You're not cleared for that program, gentlemen," the gray man says quietly.

[Morbis Meh]

Archibald just merely listens, finding it odd that they are sending a scientist out on a recovery mission but he disregards the matter and begins to think of what useful experiments he can conduct whilst out there. He could certainly test out his nerve and chemical agents to see how they work in sub zero temperatures (which would be useful if they had to go to Russia for an invasion). His interest was slightly piqued at the glossing over of the body... he was rather familiar with biology, more particular the human anatomy and how it reacted with chemicals. He glances down at the form, he muses on what he can get away with requesting: Grenades x10, 5lbs of C4 complete with detonators, 1 Gallon compressed cylinders of VX, Cyanogen Chloride and CX (Phosgene Monoxide), a shot gun and a spray gun that would shoot out the contents of the cylinders. He sighed, disliking government paper work but filled it out nonetheless. Looking up from his form he inquires "Shall we also recover the black box from the aircraft? Also the Churchill area is known for polar bear sightings, should we be concerned?"

Shifting his weight he examines the grey man curiously and says "I believe we should be informed about the body, if it is carrying some kind of contagion we should be aware of it also we should know what it looks like at the very least."

He looked to the others assigned to his unit, a German, and some military type. He unlike others, had respect for the Germans and their scientific works, but he was neutral when it came to soliders... less likely to think for themselves but handy when they were needed.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm smiled. It had happened again.

American, russian, german or whatever, officers and government suits were always the same.

He had learned that he should not be too angry about their (Sometimes outright dumb) reluctance to share information that could be critical to the mission.
It was the Cold War in effect. Everyone was paranoid, because everyone could be a traitor. Hell, even traitors like him could be still be working to the other side, and only pretend to be traitors to...

Of course, that's what the agent always wanted his former employees to think.

And this was a thing that he didn't like about Americans: A lot of grunts thought they weren't grunts. They thought they were entitled to know what was going on. And so, every briefing turned out like this.


He didn't complain, though. In the past, he had accustomed not to ask too much, by seeing what happened to the unfortunate souls who did.

"At least they don't send you to Siberia for asking too much questions around here he thought. "Then again, they are sending us to the Artic"


Wilhelm wrote a few things on the requisition form.

- Cold wear. Sleeping bags, or whatever was good to sleep in the cold.
- A gun (He specified a .38 revolver, his favourite, with a box of 60 bullets).
- A submachine gun (He wasn't really good with those. But hey, if they had to ask...)
- Flares.
- 2 highpowered lanterns.
- An extra can of fuel oil. If they were going to burn bodies, they could at least do it with stile.
- Night vision goggles. The Artic was probably cold, and they may not want to use lanterns all the time.
- Radios (Actually he scribbled over that and wrote "Good quality, long range radios. Battery operated, preferably").
- Rations and drinking water (It was surprising how unhealthy was to melt ice), enough for 6 people, to last 3 times the expected mission time.
- Fire-starting supplies, and fuel (He didn't want to depend on the Canadians).
- Batteries, lots of them.

- A set of lockpicks (He hated to have to ask for those every time, but such were the rules)
- Other tools: An axe, a crowbar, some electrician tools like pliers.
- Some ropes with some grappling hooks.
- Climbing equipment.

Wilhelm didn't sign the list. Instead, he waited to hear Herr Major's answer to the last question (Made by a really quiet man, who looked a bit out of place to Wilhelm. Too... Intellectual).

Of course, that might actually be good.

[The_Admiral]

Walter rubbed his eyes in tiredness, his body aching from being dragged out of bed too early. His eyes started adjusting to the bright light as he heard the major's briefing. Seeing the requisitions form, he wrote down several requests.

- An EM scanning kit.
- Cold weather gear
- A Glock 17 Pistol.
- A Box of Ammunition
- A dynamo
- Radio's that can be powered by dynamo's in a pinch
-Some good Binoculars

Peeking over Wilhelm's shoulder, he scratched out a few redundant request and placed the form on the table.

Raising his hand he ask's Why us?

[Voshkod]

"We have three teams right now in Bet. You're the third," the Major says, answering Walter first. He sneezes. "The second is in the field."

"Looking for the remains of the first," the gray man says calmly.

"They're not cleared for that," the Major snaps. The gray man merely rolls his eyes.

"As for the black box, the Canadians will probably have retrieved that already. Get it from them if you can without causing an incident. Otherwise, make sure you hear what's on it. There may be bears. Bring some large rounds." The Major starts reviewing the forms.

Walter's request is approved in full, as is Wilhelm's, with a comment about keeping the SMG out of sight unless absolutely necessary. He studies Archibald's request with open disbelief. "We're not going to violate the Chemical Warfare Convention by sending that stuff into Canada!" His voice cracks as it rises. "No grenades, no C4, this isn't a war zone!" The shotgun is approved though, subject to keeping it out of sight.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm nodded.

"Ok then... In that case, should ve add some hermetic body bags and a few Bio masks to the list of equipment?" And how will ve recognize our colleagues vhen we find them?"

"Oh, and I'm not fond of big guns. I leave them to more... military tipes. Be sure I vill only use it if necessary"

Wilhelm took a little sip pf coffee thinking:
"Dreadful. Totally dreadful. And this mission is probably worse"

"I have 4 hours before the flight.. Maybe I could use 20 minutes to find out something about this... At least to diminish the surprise when we encounter the devil. I should look for sources around here. Too bad that both Herr Major and Herr Suit seem unwilling to colaborate"

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

"Of course." Aidan smiled and leaned back, having anticipated that response. 'When what we don't know comes back to bite us in the a**, I'll just say I'd told them so. That'd show them.', he thought wryly.

He glanced at the rest of the team. Civilians all, by the look of them. Great. It was going to be his job to babysit the lot of them. It was strange, though. What were so many civilians doing in a retrieval mission? Ideally, this would be a purely military effort. Get out in the field, locate the body, retrieve or destroy it. He didn't see what East German defectors and scientists could contribute to the mission objective. Another irritating puzzle.

Aidan tuned the others out and turned his attention back to the requisition form. He dithered over whether to add his sniper rifle to the list. What could he possibly need it for? In the end, he chose against it.

Weapons -

Ruger Super Redhawk Revolver - 1 (40 bullets)
Smith & Wesson M69 Pistol - 1 (60 bullets)
Colt Assault Rifle -1 (40 bullets)
Switchblade - 1
Hunting Knife - 2

Gear -

Binoculars (Night Vision) - 1
Ice picks
A detailed map of the region
etc. (everything Wilhelm picked out)

He glanced over at the man the Major was berating as he turned in his own form. It was always amusing to see the Major so worked up. He could understand the Major's anger; they couldn't antagonize their allies on their own turf. He did, however, like to be prepared; he'd seen the things that lay in wait out there. Some grenades would have been highly appreciated dealing with that beast they'd captured in Alaska a few months back.

He caught the mild disdain in the German's voice when he spoke of 'military types' and raised an eyebrow. A quip held itself ready at his lips, but he decided not let it loose. It was best not to antagonize team-mates before they even left the briefing room. Besides, both civs and plain-clothes operatives often held a healthy contempt for soldiers. Aidan believed it was 'uniform-envy'. He'd learned to deal with it.

"I expect we'll be dropped over the field? Where do we report to after we've retrieved the body?" He asked as he finally threw the cigarette stub away.

[Voshkod]

"We'll provide you a bioshield bag and equipment," the Major says. "As for recognizing him . . . ." He glances at the other man.

The gray man stands. There's a chain running from under his right sleeve to a briefcase. He pops open the briefcase and pulls out a folder. "Fingerprints. DNA. Hair. Distinguishing physical characteristics. Dental." He tosses the folder on the table and a series of photos and papers spill out. One of them shows the agent's back, a series of dots running up the spine, eight on each side, an inch apart.

Aidan's list is quickly approved. "You'll be flying in with the NTSB team," the Major says. "Once you have the body, work with our Canadian liaison to extract it." Another folder from the gray man's briefcase. A picture of a woman, Chinese-heritage perhaps.

"Brenda Lin. From Canadian intelligence. She'll know you're on the scene, but she does not - and can not - know what you're after," the gray man says. "We'd hate for you to have to kill her, after all."

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan leaned over and picked up some of the spilled photos. He ran through them quickly, pressing the basic details to his memory. He paused at the photo depicting the agent's back and raised an eyebrow. "A tattoo enthusiast, I see. Can't say much for his taste, though." He muttered, passing the photos on to the others. What 'influences' had this guy been modified for? Best he never found out.

He gave a short bark of a laugh at the Suit's morbid little joke and picked up the photo of the liaison, scanning in her face as well. Brenda Lin. If she did have to die, the job would fall to him. Or...he glanced at the German. The Stasi did have a reputation for making people disappear. Their German friend would likely take the job on happily.

"If that is all, sirs, I request permission to take my leave and prepare." He announced to the Major and the Suit, standing up. He had some guns to clean.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"I really don't like that look"
Wilhelm tought.

He was wieving the photos, and catched the American soldier's look.
soldiers tended to be patriots, and patriots didn't like people like him. He would have to be careful.

However, it didn't look like an agressive look.
He obviously didn't like him, but it looked like he was... Measuring him. But what for?


Wilhelm focused on the pictures. This was complicated enough without thinking of his new comrades.

"I'm going to like the guy who asked for the Nerv gas. He would've given the KGB bigjobs a heart attack with a list like that!"


Watching the dots on the target's back, he thought: "Very strange. The dots at every side of the spine... Maybe they are tatoos, like he said, but maybe....

Wilhelm gave a quick look at his new colleagues. Scientists, at least one of them. Maybe they could figure that out.

And Brenda Lin... She was foreign intelligence, and Canada was not reknown for its Soviet agents... But best to be careful. He didn't laugh at the Suit's joke, for he knew it was no joke.
He prefered not to get to that point, but whatever it took to avoid the apocalypse.

He hoped to have a few words with her, to see if he could figure out Canadian agents like he did with Russian, German, and Americans.

However, he did a small mental note...

"Lin. Chinese last name. Careful."

Wilhelm nodded at the last words of the American soldier:

"I agree vith you, sir. I will take my leave too, unless there is something else to discuss"

Can we use the OOC thread yet? I wanted to ask the GM something

[Voshkod]

OOC thread is here. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=235086) Always feel free to ask questions there, particularly when I start using jargon.

"Dismissed," the Major says to the group. "Wheels up from National in four hours."

Please drop a post in OOC thread if you're ready to move on.

[Voshkod]

OOC: Oops - wrong OOC thread above. Try this:

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=236099

[Voshkod]

The Twin Otter is battered by heavy winds, lurching up and down unpredictably, skittering to the side, pushing the packed-in passengers against each other. Even one or two of the experienced NTSB flyers have reached for a bag, much to the amusement of their companions.

National Airport to Winnipeg, Winnipeg to Churchill, and now three hours plus in this cramped Otter, nary a bathroom in sight. Suddenly it's clear why the NTSB crew refused the coffee offered back in Churchill.

"Hey, boss, I bet I can write up the report on this crash - you know, when our plane crahses - before it even happens!," one of the NTSB officals shouts over the noise of the props. A particularly nasty updraft hits, the wind sings against the wings, and the wings bend upward visibly. "Pilot error, continued into inclement weather, aircraft overloaded with spies!" Most of the NTSB folks laugh.

Brian Vetter, NTSB lead investigator, laughs as well, then snaps. "Shut up, Bob. OGA is not on this flight." Everyone laughs again, staring at you all.

Out of the front window (no cockpit here) you see mostly white and black. White ground, black sky, and when the snow builds up too much the black sky turns gray and ground and sky become nearly the same. The pilot and co-pilot seem to be in a constant wrestling match with the controls. "You see that?" the co-pilot yells.

"Yeah, I got it," the pilot replies. "Runway in sight." Out through the snow you can see two lines of bright flares, marking out a smooth patch of ice for the ski-equipped Otter to land on. "This may be rough, people, so belt in!" All around you, the NTSB team starts strapping in even more tightly.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Using the propeller noise and the laughter to his advantage (And while grabbing his safety belt), Wilhelm made a small sign to his nearby companions and said in a low voice:

"Gentleman, I zhink it's time to introduce myself in case you didn't catch my name before. You may call me Wilhelm. If this thing ever lands and we don't die, we need to have a meeting to discuss our affairs ASAP"

Wilhelm locks his belt without waiting for an answer. Now it's not the time.

[The_Admiral]

Noticing the spy's negativity, Walter put's down his head and starts muttering the Hail Mary in German.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan sat clutching the sides of his seat, his face pale and his eyes shut tight. This wasn't his first time braving storms in a flimsy plane; he'd thought he'd gotten over puking his guts out in such cases. But this flight was really taking him to the edge. So far he'd filled two bags and dry-retched into another, before crumpling it up and tossing it down the aisle. Now he sat with an empty stomach that churned and swooped with every tumble the plane took.

The laughter of the NTSB folk was a distant noise. Normally, Aidan would be laughing and joking along with them, but now he was occupied with trying not to feel too sick. Hopefully, the burst of cold that was going to greet them back on land would pick him back up.

He nodded weakly at Richter's words, too tired and sick to be sarcastic. The pilot's words affected a more energetic response. Aidan tightened the belt, unpleasant though the pressure was on his empty stomach and clutched harder at the leather, gritting his teeth. If they did crash, at least he would be free of his misery. That was the only hopeful thought in his head as the plane went careening down towards the ground, fighting the manic winds the whole way.

[Voshkod]

The skis touch down on the ice and the plane begins to slow as the spoilers deploy. A wave of relief washes across the NTSB team as they visibly relax, just in time for the wind to scream. Not howl, not blow, but scream, a primal noise of an animal being torn to pieces. The plane banks hard to the left, the wingtip catches on an icy hummock.

There's a tearing noise as the wing comes away and the airplane begins a spinning skid down the runway. Astonishingly cold air tears into the cabin, ice crystals forming sharply in your nose when you breathe. The lights go out, a pungent smell of avgas floods your senses. You're hanging from your harnesses, looking down at a flare guttering in a snowbank, as fuel drips from the ruptured wing tank, puddling into the snow.

Luck rolls for all, please.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan screamed as the plane banked hard left and with a hollow, ripping noise, the wing tore free. Terror churned in his stomach. The wind that burst into the open cabin was so cold, it choked him. The sudden change in temperature was a shock to his system. That, the shock of the crash and the weakness caused by the motion sickness was too much for him. He lost consciousness.

When he awoke, moments later, his body was straining against the harness. He groaned, not entirely happy that he was still alive. An instinctive attempt to breathe in only induced a coughing fit as the horribly cold air seemed to scald his insides. Aidan tried to focus. He needed to find out if he was injured and if so how badly. It would be a cruel joke if he stayed alive only to bleed to death afterwards.

Aidan's Luck is 50%

[roll0]

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"SCHEEEEE***!!!"

Wilhelm screamed as the plane tore open.
He didn't have time to know what happened next.


Wilhelm's Luck is 60%

[roll0]

[Morbis Meh]

Archibald hated flying, he saw zero reason for him to be here with these people, he was a god damn scientist not a soldier. Hell he been denied almost everything he had requested, but goes to show when you have idiots at the top that have no understanding of the value of experimentation. As the plane is ripped open, Archie curses allowed, this was no god damn Polar bear... damn brass not allowing him to properly equip themselves.

luck roll [roll0] 80% luck rating

[The_Admiral]

As he mutters his prayers he notices the plane falling apart. He grabs the closets object and holds on for his life.


Luck
[roll0]

[Voshkod]

Walter and Aidan, after quick inspection, find that they are uninjured, but shaken up. Archibald is not only unshaken, but is sitting right next to the newly created emergency exit. Wilhelm, not quite so lucky, is have some trouble moving his left arm.

Vetter, the lead of the NTSB team, has pulled out an ugly looking knife with a serrated edge that he uses to slice through his harness. "OK, people, we have a fire hazard here. Let's get the hell out!" He checks out the pilot and co-pilot, who are either dead or unconscious. Outside, the wind has died down. Through the port-side windows, which now face skyward, you can see the clouds rapidly tearing apart, star-studded blackness emerging from behind them, and wispy green and red tendrils moving in the sky.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

He didn't feel very well at all, but it appeared he wasn't wounded. Relieved, Aidan followed Vetter's example. With some twisting, he managed to unhook the strap on his jacket and unsheathe his combat knife. The blade cut through the harness smoothly. Aidan dropped to the ground, the steel chill enough to be felt through his heavy boots.

Aidan swayed a little, feeling weak and nauseous, his body aching after the beating it had received, being jostled about while the plane broke apart. He took a moment to gather his bearings, trying to ignore the hellish cold threatening to freeze his nose off. He stamped his feet and rubbed himself up and down. The warmth was minimal, but it would have to do. They didn't have time to dawdle.

He moved first to Walter, seated beside him, now dangling from his harness. "Hold on." He muttered and started to cut through the straps.

Do I roll for this? Just in case - from the damage stats for my knife

[roll0]

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm Richter

Wilhelm didn't understand what had happened during the crash... maybe he had hit his arm against the window.

He managed to take his knife and cut his harness with his right hand.

"Aaaagh"

He dropped to the floor, in pain.

My arm... It doesn't feel broken, I hope it's not dislocated.

One of Wilhelm's buddies had dislocated his shoulder back in East Berlin. They ended up nicknaming him "loose cannon" (Or something like that, Wilhelm didn't remember exactly) because his arm never really came back to its rightful place.

Every once in a while (Normally when it was less convenient) the arm would just dislocate again.


Wilhelm sat up, holding his injured arm with the healthy one, trying to ignore the pain.

He took a second to put his knife back in its holster, and took his bag from the wreckage, putting it on his right shoulder.

"Iz everybody allright?"
He asked, trying to cover his pain.

However, it was obvious to everyone who looked at him. He wasn't going to be able to move much like that, without tending to his arm.

But they had to get out of there first.

And maybe he could get out of the plane with a little help.

[Voshkod]

"Go, go, go!" Vetter is screaming. The mostly uninjured NTSB crew evacuates like the professionals they are, assisting Wilhelm as necessary. Outside, the cold, still air is a slap to the brain, yanking away any disorientation from the crash. Someone is kicking snow over the flare near the gathering puddle of avgas. Several snowmobiles come roaring from the east, lights blazing. Within minutes, everyone is doubled-up on a snowmobile, rushing back toward the light and warmth of several large polar-style tents, leaving the wreck of the Twin Otter behind.

There are four tents, strung together with poles and ropes at waist height. Behind them you can see several spotlights shining down on the carcass of a 747. You are all ushered into the largest tent, where the smell of hot coffee is a welcome relief.

After a quick examination, Wilhelm determines that he's suffered extensive bruising to his upper arm and shoulder, but no breaks or dislocations.

"I didn't expect you to give us another crash to examine," says a man. "Martin Tadros, Transportation Safety Board of Canada. Welcome to nowhere, population us and a hundred plus frozen corpses. We welcome our American colleagues, but remind you that this is our crash scene and our jurisdiction. Respect that, and we'll all get along."

Hot stew is being served to everyone, and Wilhelm has been given a sling for his arm. "We'll get your gear off the Otter in daylight," Tadros continues. "Our current set-up is this - main tent, which we're in, for meals and work. Medical tent was set up for survivors, but it's pretty empty. We had one survivor, he's in there now. We were going to fly him out on the Otter, but that'll have to wait. One tent for gear, final tent for sleeping. Ice toilets out back. We have twelve on the ground, you have twelve, that's twenty-five with our survivor. When the radio interference clears up, we'll call Churchill for a recovery plane. We'll lead you out to the crash site when the sun rises. As it is, get comfortable, if you have to move between tents keep on hand on the rope line at all times. Always use a buddy system. The Arctic does want to kill you, and it is very good at it."

A woman is standing behind Tadros. She's scanning the faces of the Americans, comparing it with a folder in her hands. You recognize her from the picture - Brenda Lin.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Well, Zat's going to hurt tomorrow"

Wilhelm tried to laugh, and nodded at Tadros's instructions.

He wasn't planning to get on the bad side of his new Canadian "colleagues" unless absolutely necessary.


Wilhelm saw Brenda, and approaching her, said:
"Excuse me, miss. Do I know you from somewhere?"

[The_Admiral]

Well then, I'm going to stow my equipment, Walter said, eager to enter the relative warmth of the tents.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

The cold was unspeakable. Aidan had thought his previous experience with this weather would help him cope, but really it didn't. His teeth set to chattering the moment he hit the ground and all the warm clothes didn't do anything at all.

The snowmobiles were quick, which was a good thing, since the wind only made things much worse. Aidan felt as if his skin had frozen up permanently. The warmth of the tent did little at first, but the hot stew did make a difference.

He'd caught a glimpse of the crashed jet as they'd entered the site. It looked a right mess. The shake-up he'd received from the motion sickness before and then the unnerving crash and sudden cold hadn't exactly gone away, but he felt a little better equipped to deal with the mission at hand. He listened to Tadros' instructions intently and his ears immediately perked up at the mention of the survivor.

Finishing up his stew, he approached Tadros, noting Brenda Lin, their appointed liaison standing nearby, with Richter going up to her.

"Aidan Greene." He introduced himself to Tadros, putting up his hand for a handshake. "You mentioned a survivor, sir. Do you know his identity? Is he stable and conscious? Did you manage to get a statement, maybe? If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to talk to him, ASAP.

[Morbis Meh]

Archibald merely looks around the tent, growing bored of all of the politics and introductions he excuses himself to the medical tent, to see if he can find anything useful for later. He may not have been given anything but he could certainly synthesize something with the right reactants.

spot hidden vs 75 [roll0]
chemistry vs 90[roll1]
biology vs 90 [roll2]

[Voshkod]

Aiden

Aiden approaches Tadros. "The survivor is Vincent Carmelo, U.S. citizen, traveling on a State Department passport. So one of yours," Tadros says. "Unconcious, but intact. Surprisingly so. Must have been thrown clear. We found him wandering in the snow. He slipped into a coma after we got him to the medical tent. Vitals are good."

Archibald

Archibald steps out under a night sky cast in flourescent green from the aurora. The Medical Tent is thirty paces to the left of the Main Tent, connected by a guide rope. It's warmer inside, and there's a distant throbbing noise of a generator. The tent is empty except for one man, lying on a bed. There are a few electrodes connected to him, showing heart beat and blood pressure, all within a healthy range. Archibald immediately recognizes the man as Vincent Carmelo, the Aleph agent they were assigned to retrieve.

Taking a moment to look around the tent, Archibald finds a chemical cornucopia of medical drugs and reagents.

Walter

Walter heads to the right, under the same undulating green sky, to the Housing Tent. Sleeping bags scattered on the floor, gear strewn in quarters. No privacy here, no luxury. People are here to do a job.

Wilhelm

Ms. Lin is short, with close-cut black hair and dark eyes. She smiles slightly at Walter's approach. "I think you might. Did we meet in Washington? Or perhaps Langley?" Her voice is soft and doesn't carry over the hubbub of the crowd.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm smiled.

"It was in Langley, probably. Virginia iz my favourite place in the world, after Essen.
When I'm not busy crashing on planes, I tend to stay around there.
I zink your name was... Lin, right?"

(He makes a quick painful look)

"We have work to do, but right now my arm is killing me. I zink I'll retire to the Medical tent for the night.

In ze meantime... How is the situation? Has the team recovered the black box?"

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm

"They've recovered the FDR - the flight data recorder - but not the CVR - the voice recorder. We're expecting to find the CVR in the morning, as it should be near the FDR in the tail of the aircraft. The plane's a mess, came down in two pieces, pretty widely seperated. We're near the front - need to snowmobile a few miles to get to the tail."

Her face goes guarded. "Your boy was intact. Walking even. And no frostbite. Just what are you people up to?"

OOC: Psychology roll, please.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm

"Well... we have two tasks.
Our main priority is to obtain the flight reports, originals if possible. American plane, you know. National Security and all zat; to avoid to leak any data that might be dangerous outside of America.

Ve are lucky the plane fell here, on friendly lands!! I understand that might be difficult but we can work it out.

I wish I could tell you more.

The second objective is to get any american survivors out and back to american soil as soon as possible. I believe this may be easier than objective one, but I think we will have to check out the survivor to see how he's doing"



[roll0]

Psychology= 90

It was a d100, with no modifiers, right?

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm

"Oh, I understand 'national security'," she replies, with a smile. "But when your crap lands in my country, it's my 'national security' that's at stake. But my orders are to help you out, so let me know what you need."

Observing her, Wilhelm is struck with two things - one, her eyes are cold, distant. Her smiles, her emotions, never reach her eyes. Two, she seems tired, uncomfortable, and has slight ataxia in the hands (trembling). Her movements are poorly coordinated. Perhaps fatigue, perhaps narcotics.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm

"I understand.
We'll discuss it further tomorrow, I'm going to retire to the medical tent. Anyone wants to follow me?"

[The_Admiral]

Walter walks out of the tent, lugging his gear and wearing actual cold weather gear and says Well lets go

[Voshkod]

OOC: Are we down to two, then?

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

OOC: That's what it seems. Too bad...

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan nodded grimly. The only survivor was the man they'd come after. It figured. "I would like to see him now, if possible." It was best not to waste time. He would have to get a confirmation on the identity officially, question the man if possible and secure his transit back home. Tall order, especially now that their plane had crashed.

"I'm coming with you." He responded to Wilhelm asking. He turned back to Tadros. "An escort wouldn't be out of hand, surely. I don't want to be wandering these wastes alone, ropes or no."

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm nodded to Aydan's suggestion of an escort.

He thought:
"Nice to see someone acting with common sense.

I hope I can uze the excuse of our main objective being the documents to get our guy back to the mainland quickly"

[Voshkod]

Aiden, Walter, and Wilhelm, accompanied by Tadros, make their way over to the medical tent. Archibald is already there, alone but for the man on the table. The man's face is intact, and he clearly is Vincent Carmelo, the agent you were sent to recover. He is breathing steadily, and his heart rate is within normal range. For someone who came down in a piece of burning, twisted metal from 30,000 feet, he looks pretty damn good.

[The_Admiral]

Setting up his gear, Walter starts going over the man with a Gieger Counter. Asking him Did you notice anything strange before the plane crashed?

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Tadros himself came with them. Aidan took one look at the guy. It was Carmelo, alright. He was looking surprisingly good, other than the fact he was in a coma. It meant he couldn't question the guy, for now; but in some ways it made things easier.

The doctor didn't seem to be around. Aidan turned to Tadros. "Sir, did the doctor mention anything about moving the patient being harmful?" He hoped not; the faster they got Carmelo out of here, the better. Personally, he was very curious about how Carmelo had survived the crash and would have liked to talk to the man, but he knew better than revealing his interests to civilians.

"I trust you will make one of your planes available to us to take our man back home as well?" He added to Tadros.

[Voshkod]

Tadros takes a seat on a camp stool. "He seems to be OK. Hell, he was still walking when we got here. Hypothermia was pretty bad - couldn't understand a word he was saying - but he's damn lucky. Not a scratch, not even frostbite." He shakes his head. "I've been doing this business far too long that it takes a lot to surprise me. This guy - he's blessed or something. Doc says he can be moved and we were going to fly him out on the plane you came in on. That's not going to work now. When the weather clears a bit, we'll rustle up a new plane out of Churchill and get him out of here."

Walter quietly runs the Geiger counter over Carmelo, who's non-responsive. The counter shows nothing unusual.

"Anyway," Tadros continues, "I thought you were here to help on the accident investigation, not victim recovery."

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Damn. I hope they don't blow our cover"

Wilhelm sat in one of the beds of the tent, and answered to Tadros.
He started in a normal tone, and grew excited as he went on.

"Of course. Our main task is to colaborate to find out the causes of the accident.

But I zink you will understand: This is a commercial plane of an american company, and the case will probably be... Noisy.

Security issues, broken families... We were asked to bring all American survivors back, as soon as it was safe for them.
We thought it was ridiculous, as you must think... Who could survive something like this and be ready to travel to the US in less of a month?

Honestly, I zink we are all excited to find that a man survived a crash and the frostbite...
It says something about humanity, don't you zink?"

Wilhelm smiled and breathed deeply. He looked tired and moved by the circumstances.

"The team... I need to talk to them vithout strange people around... I need to know if I can trust them."

[The_Admiral]

Looking up Walter exclaimed Do you have a transcription of what he said?

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan swallowed in anger, both at himself and at Wilhelm. He'd been too eager asking questions about Carmelo, but he didn't need Wilhelm to cover for him. He wanted to shoot the German a dirty look, but refrained.

Instead, he managed a smile. "Just that, sir. We never really expected survivors. I'm just keen to see the one we have gets home safe."

He looked at Walter quizzically, when he mentioned transcripts. That wasn't exactly diverting attention away from the mission.

"I suppose he might have said something about the cause of the crash." Aidan commented, making sure to inject a note of doubt in his voice. He wanted to make up for his earlier eagerness. "Do you have any theories concerning that, sir? The cause of the crash, that is?" He asked Tadros, hoping to take his attention away from their interest in Carmelo.

[Voshkod]

"Carol Hanley - she's one of our investigators - found the guy. She might remember what he said. As for the crash, first impressions are a midair. Accident aircraft is in two distinct sections several hundred feet apart, implying a catastrophic failure brought about by immediate separation of the aircraft. Usually caused by either a bomb or a midair. Our initial inspection of the plane showed no blast marks, so that points to a midair. Except that we don't have another downed aircraft. We'll get you out to the site in sunlight, I want to get your opinion too." He stands. "Stick together when you move between tents, OK?," and heads out, ignoring his own advice.

[The_Admiral]

Walter say's What kind of medical test you ran him through? shining a light in his eye checking for pupil dilation. He then snapped his fingers at his ears looking for a reaction, asking Where is Carol by the way? Sorry about that but just wanted to check [for myself.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

OOC: The party would be alone, right?

[Voshkod]

"Medical tests?," Tadros says on his way out. "We just made sure he was alive. That's all we're set up for. You'll see Carol tomorrow at the crash site. I'd say you couldn't miss her, but bundled up like we'll be, you just might." He heads out into the howling wind, leaving the party alone - except for Carmelo.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm called the group to the part of the tent that was as far from the entrance and the survivor as possible. When they aproached, he talked to both of them.

"Well... gentlemen, this iz the first time we are alone and able to exchange ideas."

Wilhelm looked at Aidan, aproached him and started to speak in a low voice. He didn't want someone to come into the tent and listen.

"You are... Greene, right? You are a military man, and soldiers tend not to like me. And if half of the looks I got from you during briefing and the trip are what I think zey are, you don't. I wouldn't know why."

Wilhelm smiled.

"I am interested in your asessment of the situation. I like the opinions of people who disagree with me, it helps me not to make mistakes. I apologize for my last intervention, I wasn't showing off or trying to annoy you.
I vill tell you what I think, so we can discuss our attitude towards this trouble in the future.

I believe we can't hide some of our objectives. We are supposed to be working with this people, and we need their assistance. We need their logistics to accomplish our main task, and we need at least a copy of the file.

But we don't need to tell them which objectives are important and which are not, and we definitely should keep zem with as little information as possible.

I told our contact and herr Tadros that our main objective was the file to try to divert their attention a little, but that is not all.

I told them that we were tasked with the quick and safe return all american survivors. It's not that our guy is zpecial, not at all. It's that we need our survivors to fight a PR war at home. And since he iz the only survivor....

I zink that we can convince them easily of giving our guy away to us if they are worried about having to let go of the file. Ve can find a way to gain acces to that on a different way, later."

He raised his voice to a normal tone.

"I believe our colleague, (Walter, right?) should conduct the tests he can now. And pleaze, be careful with your actions when we are around other people.
Remember what Tadros said about a possible explosion?

If the plane had blast marks, he could've gotten a rather bad impression of you testing our hero there for radiation."

"That being said, I'm glad to ve vorking with such distinguished professionals. I'm sure we will be a gret team. If you have any doubts about my words, or any opinions to share, I'm all ears."

Meanwhile, he thought:

"A mid-air crash? Agains't something that doesn't appear on the radar? Could it be THAT something that was mentioned in the tapes we heard?
Are zey sending us UFO hunting???"

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Midair crash? Those radio logs had mentioned some kind of UFO that didn't show up on radar. It wasn't beyond the pale that it was some kind of Soviet secret weapon, but given the things he had learned in the past few years it could very well be aliens. Thankfully, it wasn't in their mission objectives to figure out what had caused the crash beyond collecting the black box. Aidan didn't much like the idea of going up against UFOs, alien or otherwise.

He followed Wilhelm to a corner, along with Walter. He had to smile at the German's speech. The man was straightforward if a little pompous. He had to give him that.

He waved a hand in dismissal. "I understood what you were trying to do, feeding Tadros the bit about the file." He looked Wilhelm in the eye. "My apologies if I've been rude. You're right. I can't bring myself to trust you. You're German for one and a spy. I've had bad experiences with both. But that should not compromise mission integrity. It won't, you can be certain of that.

He took a deep breath. "You have your skills and I have mine. I do respect that. Forget what happened before. I'll keep my feelings in check." But that didn't mean he'd trust him. It was always smart to be cautious. He'd been perhaps a bit too blatant in his suspicions. He'd remember that.

"You're right about the mission objectives. We can't hope to hide them from the Canadians and we don't need to. I don't see why they wouldn't share the contents of the black box with us. If they don't...well, we can deal with that, I'm sure. For now, there's nothing to worry about."

He looked around. "Well, if that's all, gentlemen, I think I will turn in. It's been a stressful day, what with the near brush with death. Walter will tell me the results of the tests later, I'm sure. Wilhelm, will you see me to the tents? You may find someone else to buddy you back here. Aidan walked up to the tent entrance and waited for the German. He would heed Tadros' words about not going out alone. He knew what the Arctic could do.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm noded at Aydan's words. He knew that the american wouldn't trust him yet, but he thought it was fair enough.
He wasn't ready to trust his teammates fully either, not yet.

"I vill go with you, just let me pick up these pain killers"

(He took a tablet of aspirins)

"I feel fine enough to sleep in a normal tent tonight, and it's not like I'll be any better off here. Staying with him would be.... Creepy. You know, with the snowstorm and all.

I agree with you completely, and I feel like a plane crashed around me. We should talk more in the dawn."

[Voshkod]

Walter's snapping of fingers and flashlight to the pupils generate no response at all. "I tried that already," says Archibald shortly. "No one's in there anymore."

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan waited for Wilhelm before setting out into the cold. Hauling himself along the ropes, he managed to drag himself to the sleeping tents. After a quick change of clothes, a visit to the latrine and a warm meal, he was asleep. They had a long day ahead and he needed his beauty sleep.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm followed Aydan through the ropes. the cold wind felt even worst than before.


Wilhelm was exhausted, and went to bed after eating a quick meal and smoking one or two cigarettes in the toilet.

The next day was full of promises, if it ever came.

[Voshkod]

OOC: Giving Walter/Capt_Obvious a chance to post before the next day starts.

[The_Admiral]

Okay, we'll be there tomorrow. walking out behind Wilhelm

[Voshkod]

Dawn comes late and weak to the high arctic in winter, the sun begrudging light and heat to the vast plains of snow and ice. The howling wind is interrupted only by the sound of the snow-mobiles as they tear across the hummocks toward the wreckage of the 747. You arrive at the forward-portion of the aircraft first, laid out in Pan Am's livery, blue and white, the Pan Am globe over the name of the 747: Clipper Freedom.

Even to the uneducated eye, something both localized and catastrophic occured to this aircraft. The forward section, consisting of the the aircraft from nose to just before the wings, has come down largely intact, the end of a ballistic trajectory that started at 30,000 feet and ended here in a snowbank. The ragged edges of the fuselage sparkle in the dim sunlight. There's no sign of carbon-scoring, fire damage. The ends don't jut out at an angle, as you would expect from an internal explosion, and they don't bend inward either, as you would expect from a mid-air collision. Instead, they are shiny and jagged, bringing to mind that popular commercial where the chef with the knife cuts through a tin can to show how sharp the edge is.

Bodies and parts of bodies are scattered about, covered with a thin dusting of wind-blown snow, already frozen, waxy, and stiff. No sign of struggle or of post-crash survivors. Loss of pressure at 30,000 feet. These people were probably unconcious before they hit the ground. None of the bodies are intact, many are mangled beyond recognition.

In the distance, perhaps a mile back, orange flags snapping in the wind mark the fall point of the tail section. From here you can see the tail, proudly jutting from the snow, the Pan Am globe shining blue.

The teams break into two sections. One group starts tagging and bagging the bodies, a process sped along by ice axes. The other group starts to cannibilize the corpse of the aircraft, looking for clues, the CVR and FDR, any piece of the puzzle that once was a 747.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan had been afraid of catching a cold in the night. Thankfully, he hadn't. Working in these conditions were hard enough without physical ailments to worry about.

The day had found him surprisingly fresh and lucid. He felt clear-headed and serene. It was a good mood to be in for the mission.

The ride down to the crash site wasn't as jarring as last night's had been, likely because he hadn't just escaped death narrowly. That thought loomed even larger in his mind when he saw the terrible devastation of the Pan Am crash. A few years ago, he would have had to look away the carnage. Now, he only felt a little sad.

The plane itself was an enigma. Aidan didn't know much about plane crashes, but even he could tell that the way the plane seemed to have been cut in half in midair was not 'natural'. Whatever had happened here, it fell within their purview to investigate.

He volunteered himself for the second team, looking for the CVR and FDR. Maybe he'd get lucky.



Spot Hidden: [roll0]

Skill level: 50

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm was sad by the view.

He had seen his quota of frozen people in Russia and Germany, but he never had seen anything like that.

However, he was intrigued by the plane.


Wilhelm knew little of science or technical skills.

"If I get in there, I'll just get in the way"

Instead, he helped the team with the corpse bags, and tried to talk with them while they worked.
He hoped to hear (Or even better, overhear) some information about the survivor.
What he had said before passing out, specifically.

OOC: Do I require a roll?

[Voshkod]

Aidan

Aidan and the recovery team approach the front of the aircraft. The impact was not kind to the cockpit area, shredding the bottom of it, throwing debris in a wide fan forward. Aidan can see the pilot and co-pilot, still in their seats, death-grips on the controls as if they tried to fly the plane all the way to the ground. "OK, buddy up and start moving out in a line down the debris field," Tadros says. "U.S. CVRs are orange and black. Should be easy to spot."

Brenda Lin appears at Aidan's side. "So let's go, buddy," she says. Aidan and Brenda walk their assigned lane, forward thirty degrees left from the aircraft centerline, in silence. They pass over a small hummock of ice, and Aidan suddenly realizes just how close to the Arctic sea they are. Down from the rise he can see the shoreline, a jumbled parapet of sea ice driven south by the wind and, just beyond it, a scar on the world. A massive hole in the ice, scabbing over with new freeze, dark against the stark white of the north. Underneath the ice he can see seaweed writhing against an unseen current, and tangled amongst the weeds a flash of orange.

"A polynya," Lin says, and the word rings familiar to Aiden from talks of doomsday. A Russian word for a hole in the ice. The sort of hole that the Soviet ballistic missile submarines would seek out, away from the American hunter-killer subs. They'd lurk under the polar ice cap until they found a thin spot in the skin and, when the message came, the submarine would burst to the surface and unleash the apocalypse.

It's too shallow here for Soviet submarines, at least.

Wilhelm

There is a certain jocularity engendered by long exposure to death, particularly among professionals. Doctors will refer to patients that are "CTD," circling the drain. Firefighters talk about crispy critters. And crash investigators, Wilhelm realizes, are not immune to the grim humor. Two bodies, entwined together on the ice, are members of the "mile high and falling fast club." A shattered hand, middle finger extended, is "flipping the bird to Death." But even these people stop for a moment, caught by a singular sight of tragedy, a child's corpse, a finger with a wedding ring.

Wilhelm wanders the corpse field, helping here and there, listening and talking, until he finds a young woman. She's bagging frozen entrails and talking to her compatriot. With all the cold weather gear she has on, her form is hard to discern, but he can see a pretty face and several wisps of blond hair. "Yeah, he was walking and talking," she's saying, "damndest thing I've ever seen. Must have been thrown clear and fallen free, because his seat - window port, just over the wing - was the point of impact. Lucky son-of-a-bitch."

[The_Admiral]

Which one of you is Carol?

[Shieldheart]

Sorry about that.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan gave Lin a brief, friendly smile. They hadn't spoken last night, but he had recognized her from the briefing. The two of them began to move along the path designated.

The landscape was bleak and empty; ice and rocks as far as the eye could see. The scattered remains of the plane and its contents lent a surreal air to the bleakness, giving a human dimension to the emptiness. The land sloped up just in front, hiding what lay beyond.

Aidan kept his eyes on the ground, looking for the CVR. From time to time, he glanced at Lin, but she didn't seem to find him any interesting. He'd overheard the conversation she'd had with Wilhelm last night. Whatever they did, as their Canadian liaison, they'd have to take her into account.

They walked up the slope and topped the mound. The horizon seemed to expand in a sudden rush. A cold breeze chilled Aidan's breath as he looked down upon the scene. He hadn't realized they were so close to the sea. He could imagine he smelled the brine from here, but he knew that it was just that - imagination.

"A polynya." Lin suddenly grew a voice. Aidan glanced at her and then back at the shore, realizing in a flash exactly what it was he was looking at. He remembered the word from reports and briefings. He remembered what scenario those reports dealt with too. Though there was absolutely no evidence of Soviet involvement so far, he suddenly felt a little nervous.

As he looked around, taking in the enlarged vista, something caught his eye. Newly frozen ice extended from the shoreline covering up what looked like weeds. Something was caught in those weeds; he thought he saw orange. He extracted his binoculars and took a closer look. There was definitely something there.

He handed the binoculars to Lin. "Due north, just under the new ice growth over the water. Could that be what we're looking for?"

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Incredible. I wonder what I would say in that situation.What did he talk about?

I'm Wilhelm, by the way. I'm part of the American team."

[Voshkod]

Aidan

Lin takes the binoculars and looks into the polynya. "That's got to be it," she says. "And maybe that's where our missing element in the mid-air is. Something big must have come down there to make that hole in the ice. Unless it's a part of the 747."

Wilhelm and Walter

The woman talking turns to Wilhelm and Walter, brushing a few stray blond strands from her blue eyes. "I'm Carol," she says. "You must be from the Yank team, eh?" Her accent is so perfectly sterotypical Canadian that she might just be putting you both on. "Funny thing is he was talking, babbling really. Couple of words, over and over. 'Sedna' and 'Baba.' Nonesense. But pretty good for a guy that just fell 30,000 feet, eh?"

Walter notices that Archibald, who spent the night in the medical tent, is over at the aircraft fuselage, studying the area of seperation.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Yes ve are. I'm Wilhelm, and my partner is Walter. we saw the survivor last night. He looks great..."

(Wilhelm looks at the mayhem of human remains around them)

"Considering the circumstances. Where did you find him? How do you think he made it?"

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan nodded in acknowledgement. "Let's go report back to Tadros. You'll know better than me exactly what to do, but I don't think we can go in on that ice without special equipment and backup." Aidan turned around and extended a hand towards Lin. "I'd like my binoculars back please." He said with a smile.

[If Lin agrees]

The walk back was quicker. They found Tadros a little way away from the plane. "Sir." Aidan called out to him as they approached. We believe we've located the CVR. He pointed along the way they had gone and come back.

Thirty degrees from the centerline, due forward, over the slope and then some hundred feet to a newly formed polynya. The CVR seems to be trapped under newly formed ice, caught in weeds. Agent Lin here thinks the polynya may have been formed by the cause of the midair. He looked to Lin for confirmation and support.

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm and Walter

"Sheer luck, I'd have to say." Carol looks up at the scattered clouds. "Must have been thrown free, come down in a position to minimize terminal velocity. It happens. Vulovic fell 33,000 feet with only some broken bones. Some bomber crewmen in World War II survived similar falls with minimal injury. Luck of the draw. When he comes to, he should buy some lottery tickets, eh? I found him wandering in the snow. He probably saw our lights and made his way there. Poor bastard was jabbering away and pointing at the sky. We pumped him full of tranqulizers just to get him off his feet and into the medical tent."

Aiden

Lin does hand over the binoculars and walks with Aiden back to the crash site. After briefing Tadros, the whole group moves to the shore. "Damn," Tadros says. "Phillippe, we have diving gear?"

"Yes," says a man with a Quebecois accent. "Back at camp."

"All right, go get it. We need the box and we need to see what else is down there."

While they wait, Lin pulls Aiden aside. "So. What are your rules of engagement here? If there are frozen LGMs down there, what are you going to do?" LGMs - little green men - the absurdist acronym for alien life.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

This close up, there was no doubt that it was indeed the CVR trapped down there under the ice. As Philippe set off back to camp to bring back the diving gear, Aidan settled in to wait. He was about to ask Tadros about a smoke, when Lin took him aside.

Lin's question took him aback. He didn't even need to feign his reaction. Letting out a short laugh, he shook his head, grinning widely. "LGMs, Ms. Lin? I didn't have you pegged as a believer." He looked at her, an amused expression on his face and after a moment shrugged.

"I don't know if you're joking, but you aren't, I can understand. That midair collision was real weird, wasn't it? I haven't seen many plane crashes, but that kind of clean cut can't be the usual fare."

He looked out at the expanse of water. He had no idea if she was just confused, a kook or someone like him. Whatever it was, he knew he'd have to tread lightly. He couldn't risk giving away too much, but he felt he could put her at ease somewhat.

As far as I know, the US Government don't have established rules of engagement concerning visitors from beyond. If LGMs do turn up and they seem to be hostile, well my first concern will be the safety of all you folk and then, if possible, capturing a specimen. I'm sure the boys back at Washington would be thrilled to see a real, live Martian. Or whatever. Might even bag me a medal or two." He gave her a wide smile.

[Voshkod]

Aiden

Lin looks at you for a moment, then says, more to herself, "so that's how it's going to be." Her face convulses suddenly, like a child given a drop of bitter medicine. "Just a little joke for the Yanks," she says.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

That was not the reaction he had expected. He had been playing it light, for her sake as well as his. She really does think aliens are involved. He thought in wonder. Well.

He wiped the grin off his face and turned to face Lin properly. In a quiet voice, he said, "So. You weren't kidding. What do you know, Ms. Lin? Why bring aliens into this?" He also wanted to ask why she was telling him about it, but he held off. If Brenda Lin was in a talkative mood, he had best take advantage of it.

[The_Admiral]

Okay, got to look over the wreck now. Walter says dragging his gear over and running the Geiger counter over the wreck especially over the part that was split.

[Voshkod]

Walter

Walter joins Archibald at the fuselage. There are still some bodies inside, strapped into their seats, frozen solid. He pulls out the Geiger counter, gets nothing more than background radiation as he runs it over the damaged area.

[OOC: Spot Hidden, please.]

Aiden

She seems to struggle with herself for a moment. Not the ordinary facial expression one might expect from a person thinking deeply, but a full-fledged appearance of a near seizure, eyebrows fluttering, rapid blinking, jaw twitching. [OOC: Psychology and Medicine, please]

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"I... zid not know that. Miracles happen, huh."

Wilhelm needed to think, so he gave a quick salute to Carol and kept helping collect remains.
He started to go towards Walter and Archibald, who were checking a part of the airplane.

"Ok, here are the facts:
Miracle my a**. The survival of our target could've been a coincidence, if it was the only strange thing about the "accident".

But there are just too many abnormal (Paranormal?) things.

- The cause of the accident isn't clear, and I believe more in LGM that in commie ghosts in this case.
- Our target was protected against "Influences". Who's or what influences? Probably not gravity
- The canadians may know some things we don't, but they don't seem to be hiding anything important.
- Last, if it was a vulgar accident, the US woudln't have sent us as a team.
- And let us not forget the two teams who came before us"

Wilhelm felt like a dimwit.
The last two teams!! He had not asked about the previous teams!!!

Wilhelm let a storm of german swearing rage inside his head as he walked.
He hated to forget about details.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

OOC: Sorry for doubleposting, I posted at the same time as the GM. I'm letting the post be, becuse it fits what he said.

Spot check:
Spot hidden:35

[roll0]

[The_Admiral]

[roll0]

Spot Hidden 25

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan was alarmed by Lin's reaction. This is not normal. This is not right. Her expressions reminded him of the witnesses in Florida, it reminded him of the videos he had seen of his own debriefing after that disastrous mission in Africa.

"Lin! Hey!" He grabbed her by the shoulders. Leaning forward into her face, he spoke urgently. "It's ok, Lin! You're safe here. What is it? Don't be afraid."



Psychology: [roll0]

Medicine: [roll1]

Skill Level for both: 5 (...this is going to be good)

[Voshkod]

Walter and Wilhelm

Looking at the damaged edge of the aircraft, Walter and Wilhelm both notice that the metal is shiny, almost polished. The "cut" is relatively straight, a few jagged bits here and there, but more reminicent of a welding cut then an impact cut. As they're looking at it, Archibald climbs inside of the remains of the plane. "What a waste," he murmurs as he starts looking under the seats around the damaged section.

Aidan

A stroke? A seizure? Tourette's? Aidan's not sure, but just as quickly as it's there, it's gone. Her face collapses limply for a moment and then regains motion and muscle. "Sorry, been a long couple of days," Lin says. "Forget all that crap about LGMs. Not important. But we need to get to the CVR."

[The_Admiral]

OOC: Was the cutting done from the inside or the outside?

[Voshkod]

OOC: From an "eyesight analysis" and lacking any stronger forensic tools at this point, from the outside.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Once Wilhelm is sure nobody is watching, he says:

"Ok, here iz my theory. It looks like a clean cut, probably done by Odin himself. Mistery solved."

"Ve should check this area more. Maybe we'll find something"

Wilhelm watches the inside of the plain, looking for anything important.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Aidan stared at Lin dumbly for a moment, before letting her go and moving back. "Right." He mumbled, giving Lin a queer look. So she'd been having some sort of nervous breakdown? Was it some psychological problem that surfaced time to time? Whatever it was, Aidan had lost his window. Pushing it now would only piss Lin off, he could tell.

"The CVR, right." He looked around. "Diving kit here yet?"

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm and Walter

Most of the inside of the plane was scoured clean when pressure was lost. Only the people still strapped in remain. Their faces are white, frozen in a final rictus of fear. Archibald is still rummaging under the seats, muttering to himself.

Aiden

"Yeah," Tadros says as Phillippe straps on the dry suit. "Anyone else here a diver?" Others are starting to chop through the ice, and the area now exposed to the wind is frothed into waves. The seaweed writhes faster under the new currents.

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

"Not me." Aidan muttered. He wasn't keen on getting into the water on a warm summer day down in Florida. He sure wasn't going to try his luck here where a misstep meant death. Instead, he slapped Philippe on the back, wishing him good luck. Then he stood back from the ice, laying one hand on his holster. Just in case.

[Voshkod]

Aiden

No one raises a hand. "No matter," Phillippe says with a jaunty grin as he pulls down his facemask. "The line?"

Tadros passes him a lifeline. "You know the drill. Two tugs and we'll pull you back."

"Oui, mon capitan!", Phillippe says, snapping off a jaunty salute. He starts to wade into the polynya. "Cold. Cold as a witch's . . . ." He goes under.

The water is clear enough to see him swim, down, toward the orange and black, trailing the florescent yellow line behind. He snags the box without incident and swims back, dropping it on the rocky shore. "It's the CVR," he sputters. "And I see another one a bit on. Probably the FDR." Tadros nods, and Phillippe dives again.

Aiden watches as the diver vanishes into the seaweed. Two of the Canadian techs check the CVR. "Looks intact," one says. "We can hook it up back out at base."

Tadros checks his watch, frowns, and gives a quick tug on the lifeline. It snaps back at him, suddenly limp.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm looks around in the plane, when suddenly an idea hits him

"Vait... Carol said that the point of impact was the survivor's seat."

He went to the seats next to the cut in the fuselage, and looked for all unnocupied seats. Then, he proceed to look for any clues and evidence that could lead to Carmelo's seat.

Spot check:
[roll0]
Spot hidden:35

"Walter, Archibald: One of the canadians said he was sitting next to the impact zone, We should look for any clues we can here."

While he looked, he thought:
Remember: "Baba and Sedna". That's what he he repeated. I need to find its meaning.
Is it American slang?

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

Crap. Aidan thought as the lifeline went slack. Almost by instinct, he took out his gun, before snapping it back in its holster. It wasn't any use in this situation!

Instead, he jumped to Tadros' side and gripped the lifeline with both hands. "I think we should start pulling, don't you, Sir?"He said, before making good on his word.

OOC:



I think the lifeline going slack is not a 'good thing' and I'm having Aidan respond accordingly. If it means something else, please discount his actions. I don't know much about diving protocol and I don't want Aidan to commit some stupid faux pas due to my ignorance.





I feel like a roll is necessary, but I'm not sure what to use.

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm

Wilhelm is turning over the words Sedna and Baba in his mind as he starts to search through the wreckage. He finds a seat with three distinct differences from the others. One, someone dug their fingers into the armrests so deeply and to leave gouges in the hard plastic. Two, the chair is spattered with greasy, black, fluid. Three, there's a claw, or a talon, embedded in the chair. The talon is easily a foot and a half long.

OOC: SAN check, 0/1d2.

Aiden

Tadros is already pulling. "Come on, people!" he roars, and Aiden and others grab a hold and pull. The slack is coming in, fast. Something is moving toward the shore through the writhing seaweed. A head, an arm, the top of a torso, still clad in Phillppe's dry suit.

OOC: SAN check, 0/1d4.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm tries to hold his breath. This must have been his seat!!

He tried not to think too hard about the world as he knows it while he looked for something to collect samples.

"I must be dreaming, this can't be truth. Maybe I hit my head too hard and I'm in a comma in Berlin."

Sanity check
[roll0]

Current Sanity (Max) 60

Damage to sanity (If check fails)
[roll1]

Walter, Archibald, quick! Ve must take this!"

Wilhelm looks for something to collect some of the liquid and take the talon.

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm

Wilhelm has some sample vials handy, and he focuses on them with shaking hands as he tries not to think about what has half-meter long talons around these parts. Archibald springs over a seat when Wilhelm calls his name. He hisses, a sharp intake of breath when he sees the talon. "No protection against that thing, was there?" he whispers.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

There was not fighting reality.
The talons were there, no use in ignoring them.

Wilhelm reached for one of his vials when Archibald made his question, and stopped for a second. The world froze.

Wilhelm answered:
"If this took down ze plane... Then he had at least some protection against... it. Any idea what it was? This is no bear.

Anybody has a cammera? ve might want pictures."

Wilhelm sat down, trying to cool down before taking the samples.

[The_Admiral]

Walking in, Walter exclaims What were they transporting?

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm and Walter

Wilhelm snaps a few shots with his camera as Walter enters the plane. "According to the manifest," Archibald says, "just standard cargo - luggage, mail, that sort of thing. Nothing that could cause this."

OOC: Presume you have minor equipment (cameras, pencils, vials) if you need them. Just don't pull out an AK-47 or something.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Zey forgot our colleague. This must have something to do with him. Have you found out anything about his tatoos? Zhey must be the key to all this."

"No mistake. The finger marks, the talon... Someone was attacked here.
And no corpse, no blood, no marks that suggest he was taken... So he probably survived.

After taking the pictures. he collected some of the fluid in a vial, and closed it. He examined the substance and asked:

"Is this oil? What do you think this is?"


Wilhelm took the talon carefully, and put it in a small bag, for preservation.

Finally, he whispered to his companions:
"Ve need to erase this... The canadians can't find out about this!"

[The_Admiral]

Why? They need to know about this. That thing could be out there right now. Walter says, looking around.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Still whispering, Wilhelm continued:

"Look, it's a spy thing. The only ones who should know anything it's us.
We don't know anything about this creature. It could be dead for all we know."

"I'm not that lucky. It's probably alive, and thinking of Wilhelmwurst"

The idea of a monster turning him into a traditional german sausage would've normally been funny, but Wilhelm didn't feel like laughing. He continued:

"Anyway, as much as you americans zink of my foreign accent and my previous employer, I care for your national security. Remember opur orders: We can't let foreign Intelligence find out why we are really here. Even if it belongs to an allied country.

How do you know Lin is not a double agent? How do you know that any of them is not?

I'm not taking any risks. This has to go."

Wilhelm starts looking for a lighter, thinking that maybe the oily substance in the seat is flammable.

"Anyone has any other things to do here? We should be getting back."

[Voshkod]

Walter and Wilhelm

"He's right," Archibald says. "This stuff is top secret." He starts rummaging through a carry-on bag. "What's that about tattoos?"

Wilhelm finds a lighter in the debris.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"Carmelo's. You saw the pictures at the briefing, did you? You examined him last night, do you have any thoughts?

Ok, let's get out of here"

Before setting the seat on fire, Wilhelm watches around to see if he was missing anything.

"Is ti convenient to use fire? Can't I clean it with something? Perhaps throw some actual oil to cover this?"

OOC: Roll if necessary

[roll0]

Spot hidden:35

[Shieldheart]

Aidan Greene

"Oh no." Aidan whispered and looked away from the mangled corpse of Phillipe for an instant. It was not the worst mess he'd ever seen, not by far, but you never really got used to these things.

A cold dread settled in his stomach. He continued to pull along with others, but his mind was now on his gun. Whatever had killed Phillippe was still there. It might come out any moment. He had to act quickly.

"Sir." He addressed Tadros. "We need to move away from the shore. Whatever killed Phillippe may come out. I only have one gun. Survival is the issue here."

OOC:



Sorry. My browser was being unreasonable.

SAN: [roll0]

[Voshkod]

Walter and Wilhelm

"I didn't flip him over, if that's what you're asking," Archibald says. "He's still breathing normally, but I don't think . . . ."

Wilhelm really doesn't hear the rest of Archibald's statement, as he notices something about the black fluid on the chair. It's motile. Subtly, but definitely moving. Just like the sample in his vial, he realizes.

Walter does hear the rest of it. ". . . think anyone's home."

Aiden

"Crap!," Tadros yells. "Killer whale. Do killer whales come this far into the Passage?" Most people are listening to Aiden, moving away from the shore, but Tadros just snaps at him. "Whales don't come up here, man, what are you thinking?"

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"The... fluid... is moving. Oh God, the fluid in the seat is moving."

Wilhelm shivers. He needed to get out of there.

After hearing the response of Walter and Archibald, Wilhelm advanced to set the seat on fire, praying that the liquid will burn.

He needed to know there was a way to destroy it.

OOC: Exactly what it says on the post. I'm giving Walter time to do something with the evidence if he wants, and I'll automatically destroy it if I'm not stopped.

[The_Admiral]

Walter steps back in horror as the liquid moves.

[Voshkod]

Wilhelm and Walter

Wilhelm begins to move toward the black smear with his lighter as Walter looks on in horror. Archibald, distracted as he digs through a carry-on bag, turns just as Wilhelm places the lighter. "No!" he shouts. "Don't burn it!" But he's too late. The fluid burns easily. Wilhelm and Walter can see it spreading itself away from the point of ignition. "Damn it!" Archibald snarls.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

Wilhelm was annoyed.

"You know, I zaid I vas going to burn this 2 or 3 times. And you choose to stop me NOW?"

As the flames spread, Wilhelm gets worried about the exit.

"Let's get out of here. If someone asks, ze fire was caused by oil and an electrical failure or something like zat."

[Voshkod]

Aiden

OOC: Did you roll your SAN or just the 1d4? If you made your SAN, loss was only 1 point.

The wind, which had been sullenly still for a few minutes, suddenly erupts in a terrifying howl. Snow and salt water are thrown horiztonally across the beach, blinding everyone for a second. Aiden gets a brief glimpse of the partial corpse sliding across the ice in the front of the hurricane winds. "Whiteout! Storm! Find a buddy and get back to the tents," Tadros shouts, his bellow shredded by the wind. "Get the CVR, too!" A strong hand grabs Aiden's, and Lin appears in front of him through the blowing snow. "Let's move!"

Wilhelm and Walter

Archibald looks furious. "It was evidence, man, something that they'd want back in D.C.!" His face is contorted with rage. He steps forward as if to strike Wilhelm when the wind hits. The entire body of the 747 shudders and slides, and the fire from the burning material erupts into a rage, blowing back down the interior like a blowtorch. Wilhelm and Walter realize that their in a virtual windtunnel with a raging fire, which is blowing flames across the gap in the fuselage they entered through.

[Ragnar Lodbroke]

"You idiot!! Never start a fire indoors, and if you do, get out at once!"

Wilhelm was scared and worried by his mistake, and took a step back to protect himself from the flames.

"Could we leap through the hole? Probably not... It's too narrow."

Wilhelm looks to the back of the plane. Could one of the doors be opened? He wished he had some explosives now.

"We need to get out now or we'll be trapped!! Any ideas?"