To the Water and the Wild (IC Thread) [Archive] - Giant in the Playground Forums

BradWhite

2018-06-13, 10:31 AM

Day One - Unquiet Dreams

We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams

The car stops at the top of the bridge, a two-lane steel arch over a greasy green canal. Only fifty feet up, it seems to be highest point around for miles. To the south, you can see the ocean. There's a sign here, faded with age: "DREDGE THE DRAG." The DRAG, the Diversion Route Atchafalaya-Gulf, is the canal beneath you. Water mills about slowly, unsure if it's running to the Gulf of Mexico or up into the bayous all around. Something large and gray breaks the surface, rolling over slowly in the brutal sun, a catfish the size of a dolphin. It lolls there belly-up for a long second, and then the water draws it down. It is late August in Cajun Country, and the air weighs you down like a warm damp wool blanket. Dragonflies the size of sparrows flit around, wings oily and iridescent.

At the top of the bridge there's a small hut. The windows are broken, and inside you can see the controls for raising the bridge, rusted in place. Back in the day, large ships from the ocean would make their way up the DRAG to the Atchafalaya, to the refineries and chemical plants. But the Corps of Engineers has stopped dredging the DRAG after Hurricane Katrina, and the cities and towns along the canal are dying slowing, just like the DRAG itself.

To the west is Bel Malbion, a horseshoe of high ground. Or as high as the ground gets out here, maybe five feet above the water, ready to be washed away with the next storm surge. It looks like the land it sits on was once the bank along a bend of an ancient river. The top of the curve runs along the DRAG, which disconcertingly is a good ten feet higher then the town. A large earthen dike keeps the canal's water from flooding down into Bel Malbion. Built along the dike are docks and a repair and fuel shop for small fishing vessels, and a larger wharf that once serviced the big ships, loading them with salt and chemicals from M'Gee. On the southern side of the horseshoe, you can see the M'Gee salt and chemical works, tall rusting smokestacks and buildings being reclaimed by kudzu. A thin trail of smoke trickles from one stack, a last sign of economic life in the city.

To the northern side of the horseshoe, where the bridge you are on will touch down, you see can see downtown Bel Malbion. Plenty of signs that it was once a booming little city. A three-story brick hotel, the Bell House (or is it Belle House? There's a shadow of an 'e' on the sign, perhaps fallen in some long-ago storm), where you have rooms waiting. City Hall, an old ante-bellum plantation-style house. Several other large houses that the wealth of the city once lived in, first the slave-owners, then the shipping and chemical magnates, and now whatever remains of a gentry in this dying town. A gas station, a diner, a movie theater (one screen, featuring The Shape of Water, months after it left every other theater). A red-brick schoolhouse. At least six churches, counting by the steeples. Further from the center of town, closer to the rusting near-ruins of M'Gee, or down the northern end of the horseshoe, rougher houses, one-story ranch-style, huts and shacks, mobile homes that will become wind-borne coffins with the next hurricane.

And all around the horseshoe heights of Bel Malbion, Bayou St. Isabelle, a low brackish swamp rioting with green and brown, shallow water covered with algae, and cypress trees covered with vines. You can see, toward the end of the northern side of the horseshoe, a set of shacks right on the water with airboats lined up outside.

You've stayed on the bridge too long, and the mosquitoes have found you. Time to drive on into Bel Malbion. Time to go to the opera.

***

Day Zero

The text came in on your phones. "David invites you to the opera." Tickets to Atlanta Hartsfield International Airport, connecting flight to Louis Armstrong in New Orleans. Your flight leaves in a few hours. Not much time to get ready.

Viirin

2018-06-13, 12:45 PM

Ryan had caught up on all the webnovels and webcomics he liked to read a couple days ago and was sitting at home, bored. The work program didn't contact him all that often, but when it did it broke him out of the painful monotony that usually plagued him.
His phone vibrated on the corner of his antique grey lacquered faux-wood desk and its screen lit up. Looking at it, he smiled.

In the restroom he looked in the mirror, seeing his mid-40s face, square jaw, and thinning hair look back at him with a resting look of potentially aggressive condescension, which was just how his face was and it wasn't an expression. The fact that he built a respectable level of muscle mass simply from housework and previous dead-end jobs, like washing dishes at an all-you-can-eat restaurant, didn't help his appearance.

He didn't have much to tie him down, especially since he had his rent on auto-pay a month ahead, so his bank account would have to go two months without paying a bill to even get a notice.
He grabbed a few of his notebooks, partially written in, and a blank one (or he thought it was a blank one, he didn't check and they weren't that well organized) and his art bag that contained various colors of ballpoint pen, highlighter, crayon, and colored pencil. Sometimes a pen wasn't reliable, so it was good to have other means to quickly write notes or draw sketches of what he saw.
The airport's behavior was annoying, but they wouldn't take away his art supplies, as long as he didn't also have a protractor, pencil sharpener, or ruler.
His suitcase could be thrown into the luggage, but the art bag stayed with him to keep him distracted so he didn't bother other people on the plane. He worried for nothing, but he did still keep the doctor's note he had written to sublimate the airport employees in case they whined about his pencils.

As he headed out the door to a waiting taxi, he saw his raised cactus garden. He would be gone for who knows how long, but they were cactus and could take care of themselves. Plus, he had filled the water reservoir the day before, so evaporation would water the plants from below while he was gone.
Most of the cacti had been stolen by him from people who didn't know or care to learn how to take care of them, and once in Ryan's care they flourished. A few days or weeks without him they could deal with. They went years without tending beforehand.

Dark Seeker

2018-06-13, 03:37 PM

Dr. Carl Feldman was a weaselly looking man in his mid to late 30's, of average height and build, with greasy black hair and thick glasses designed for utility rather than style. He carried himself with an air of quiet competence and self assurance that largely made up for his physical unremarkableness. He rarely bothered with the mundaneity of small talk, and when he spoke it was in a soft, measured tone where each word was carefully precise and designed to accomplish whatever he needed it to at the moment. Generally It only took a moment of conversation for one to realize they were dealing with one of the CDC's top doctors, and it only took a minute more to realize that the man lorded that knowledge over others.

Presently Dr. Feldman is in his home office. He had spent the better part of the work week examining a potential outbreak of the latest strand of bird flu and developing various scenarios for the outbreak's speed and efficiency. It was a challenging task, but truthfully the work was beginning to prove tiresome. So he was glad to be home and focused on a disease he has studied in his other “official” capacity. It was a mysterious thing, capable of horrific and wonderfully unexpected effects. An entire town had been laced with a strand of genetic material that began to turn them into something other than human, mentally as well as physically. It was fascinating to study, and the “disease”, if it was such, spread like very few others he was familiar with. In short, it was proving to be quite a challenge to understand.

But despite the frustrations Carl smiled, carefully examining cells underneath a microscope as soft jazz played in the background. Compared to the latest strand of flu, this was far more worth his time in studying. Really, it was a shame the organization had so little time or interest in understanding the things they purported to fight. But what did one expect when faceless bureaucrats dictated policy? He was conducting his own research, using well worn caution and logic to determine more about the specimens he had secretly retrieved from his past operations with the group. However, progress was slow. Even a mind as brilliant as his could only work so fast without official backing and support. But he had hopes he'd have developed a vaccine for this disease by the end of the year. If he could just figure out a way to block the...

The vibrating of his cell phone broke his concentration, and Carl angrily tore off his gloves and stomped to get it. There would be no further progress made today, he knew. What he was dealing with was so unusual that the only way he could understand it was to put himself in a certain frame of mind. It was not easy to achieve such a state, though lately it was becoming slightly easier. Proof he was making progress, he supposed.

Any frustrations he held evaporated when he saw the text. It would seem his services were required once again. Carl was no fool; he understood well the work he did was dangerous. The last operation had made that abundantly clear. But first and foremost, he was a scientist. And he would be damned if he would not understand.

He packs quickly and heads out, ready to work.

Anti-Eagle

2018-06-14, 06:27 PM

"Now open your mouth." The child did as instructed.
"Say ah." The child made an 'ah' noise.
Charles saw slight abrasions as he examined the back of the young girls throat.

He looked quite impressive to the young girl and her mother in his uniform, clean shaven and well groomed he had the effect on most of his patients during his day job. It was rare to see a doctor with a title other than doctor, and even stranger to see one in navy blues.

The FEMA run aid tents were growing by the day and as was the number of patients, in need of help or merely being overprotective in the presence of free healthcare. Well it wasn't FEMA, it was one of their many subdivisions that weren't legally FEMA but that was splitting hairs. The constant storms from the tropics ensured he among many had perpetual work even if the job would be better handed off to locals while he and his compatriots did the germ warfare research the corps was formed to do or better yet the bleeding edge observation of foreign pathogens in action. Not that he had a problem working on Americans. They were his countrymen and he was glad to help them. He just happened to prefer the South where a doctor in uniform wasn't exactly... suspicious. The ones that weren't impressed or understanding tended to see navy involvement in an almost conspiratorial tone. Whether or not it was warranted. He wasn't the CDC so he was in the military. Why was the military here?

David invites you to the opera. He discharged his young patient and it took all of an hour to pack up and leave. A health crisis somewhere else. Not allowed to talk about it. If it ended up in the news he'd see them when they were mobilized for it.

His on hand supplies were never far away. He'd made a habit of keeping anything useful on hand as a sort of operational bug out bag. A shower and shave in a hotel room on the way kept him presentable as he grabbed the last of his things, and had the rest shipped elsewhere so it wouldn't be stolen. Requisitions for the job would be taken care of by the time he was wherever he was headed.

He checked and made sure his pistol got through the airport. It took time after the first job to figure out how to get a gun on and off a plane without anything being questioned but he found most states were reasonable with the right paperwork. The same went with most of his supplies. Being a doctor and holding a rank had perks. If he was ever questioned... He doesn't leave home without it after an incident with a machete further south.

He wasn't sure if he should look forward to the work. But he did sometimes. Certainly straightforward despite the odds.

PossiblyInsane

2018-06-18, 01:09 AM

"…Sure, why we not use lead for piping? It's not like it'll cost you another twenty million dollars to take out of ground in ten years when people start dying, on top of what you pay already for new pipejob, detours and delays when you need block off half of city for emergency replacement, and civic lawsuit when other half find out they drank so much heavy metal they can sharpen own head and sign god damn check to lawyer with it. Twenty million dollars would make accountant laugh his god damn eyes out before trying to kill his liver, twenty years ago…"

"…Who cares, next mayor's problem, and he can just point finger and ask why replacing whole city's sewage system taking FEMA so long? Except don't work in rush hour, else traffic jams all over city, don't work in day, else important people can't shop or concentrate on not doing work, and don't work in night, else people can't sleep. Oh, and don't leave hole and equipment on roads, because we have only one major thoroughfare running through entire city and rest of road planning made to trap god damn minotaur…"

"…No, those are not 'major thoroughfares'. Those are suspension wrecking minefields you get when you auction off job to swamp gargling contractor, then don't penalize failure to meet completion date for year and a half. Which you might have inkling of if you ask for regular progress report, instead of twiddling thumb until people say they can see house from top of auto insurance bill. And then wonder why you need new people for road work when old contractors done such a good god damn job."

"…Well, too god damn bad! You want 'appropriate language', you tell your boss to do more than smile for camera when last mayor runs off to Bermuda and leaves reeking pile on his desk! Now, if you would be so kind, forgive this old man's rambling, run along back to mayor, and politely ask him to let FEMA do it's god damned job."

After making sure the aide had well and truly scampered off, Pyotr Petrovich sighed, and rubbed his weathered eyes. Back in old days, people listened when you yelled at the top of your lungs. Now, they just got frightened by a raised voice. Or yelled back without listening. Or just didn't listen. Just like they always do…

...

…Come to think of it, he was having some trouble remembering when these old days actually were. They all seemed to blend together these days, long, interminably dreary seconds dredging out into lightning fast months and years, speeding ever onwards to decay and decrepitude as the days kept going round and round….

…

…

…He forgot where he was going with this. It was probably the air conditioning. Or something.

….

...Who was he kidding? Look at him. Scarred, beaten skin, too-taught tendons and wiry muscles hanging from creaking bones, all wrapped in a shroud of cheap clothing that'd passed hard worn some twenty years ago. Half the time it felt like the only reason he got up was to fix someone else's mess, the other half to yell at someone for the first half, and the third half just to keep this bag of meat together and spit in the Reaper's eye socket.

…

…The same old thoughts, going round and round….

…

The cell phone rang.

…

Pyotr took the cellphone out of his pocket.

…

David invites you to the opera.

….

....Who the hell was David?

….

Oh. Right.

Pyotr started packing. Apart from the toolkit, the prybar, and the work suits, there wasn't very much.

Young Gustav would just have to get on with the pipe work without him for a while, he supposed. Some jobs just had to be done.

BradWhite

2018-06-18, 10:36 AM

Day Zero

Your various planes land at Atlanta Hartsfield and you step into the airport. Airports are sterile, liminal spaces, and Atlanta is no different. Masses of people shuttling from one doorway to another doorway. You, however, are singled out by a polite TSA officer, who tells you that David will see you now. He escorts you to an interview room behind several doors and a maze of white corridors. The room has four chairs set in front of a table. There's a pane of glass cutting the room in half, right across the table. The glass has been covered with brown paper, so you can't see who is on the other side. A small shelf off to one side has bottles of water, sweating slightly in the warm room, and granola bars.

"Take a seat, please," comes a mechanically modulated voice on the other side of the glass. A hand, gloved in black leather, pushes a tablet across the table. "Welcome to the opera." The tablet is on, open to a still frame from a video. A young girl, maybe twelve, thirteen, dressed in a blood-soaked hospital gown. "That is Katerina McAllister, our patient zero. This is security footage from Saint Mary's Hospital in Morgan City, Louisiana. Kate's mother brought her there when she developed a high fever, followed by convulsions. The blood on her is from the doctor that tried to inject her with an anti-convulsive. According to Linda McAllister, Katerina tore the doctor's right arm off." The hand presses play, and the video begins. Two security guards enter the frame, both talking to Katerina. There is no audio. One approaches her carefully while the other keeps a gun trained on her. As the first guard tries to take his hand, little Katerina McAllister, little five-foot-nothing blond Kate McAllister throws him into the ceiling. The medically trained among you can see he probably dies instantly. The other guard opens fire. You can see puffs as bullets slam into McAllister, her gown billowing from the impacts, and she advances on the second guard, who retreats out of frame, followed by little Kate.

[OOC: I'll let you all decide how hardened you are, and whether this scene would disturb you enough to require a mental stress roll.]

David lets you all think for a moment, before his (her?) mechanical voice begins to buzz again. "Morgan City SWAT put Katerina down. Forty-five rounds. Her body is on ice at Saint Mary's. Her mother is in psych detention at the same hospital. Probably where you want to start. I think some of you are sufficiently well trained to handle an autopsy. If you're not up for it, you can ship the body to a friendly at CDC. Let me know. The McAllisters live in Bel Malbion, a small town south of Morgan City. Right now, the official story is 'synthetic marijuana.' Best we could do on short notice. Cell Tango left a dropbox in Lafayette, about fifty miles northwest of Morgan City, before they . . . uh . . . disappeared. Not sure what's in it, but it might have something useful." She (he?) slides a key and a card for storage unit over the table."

"I'm sorry we don't have much else to give you right now," the voice buzzes. "Questions?"

Viirin

2018-06-18, 12:21 PM

Whether this was another psych test or just someone's practical joke didn't matter, Ryan was getting a paycheck. Who cared how rich people threw their money away? Nah, that's stupid. It was probably just someone that wasn't rich pranking the government to schedule this stuff and buy the plane tickets.
He was sure that it was just some well-made Youtube video like so many others, even BDSM that he'd seen where it really really looked like someone got permanently hurt, but they were on other videos produced a year or more later with perfect health- at least at the start of the video.
The work program probably knew it was all bull****, but it isn't like programs like this could fail to play ball with someone offering them grant money, or whatever it was called when you gave large donations to a non-profit corporation.

A body would cost more, since it had to hold up to close inspection, but Mythbusters had made blood-filled people shapes using old beef, pig blood, ballistics gel, and human bones taken from bodies donated 'for science'. The Area 51 video had a good enough looking gray, but it was an old video and whoever made it probably knew it would look so grainy that they could put in less effort and it would look even more real. Better resolution, more likely you see the puppet's seams.

"How does this have anything to do with the Environmental Protection Agency?" Ryan didn't wait to let others take a turn in asking, he just blurted it out after an obvious exasperated sigh.

BradWhite

2018-06-18, 01:37 PM

"Because if this is not a hoax, not a fake, and something that represents a real and present danger," the digital voice rasps, "the EPA will be part of the contingency story. Rabies, water pollution, whatever we need to claim to shut this down without creating public panic, or alerting our . . . brothers and sisters in other organizations."

BradWhite

2018-06-19, 02:27 PM

Doctor Feldman examines the tape with as much care as a grainy security camera allows. He's seen some things. On his first mission (before he knew he was even on a mission) for Delta Green he saw alien-human hybrids with superhuman strength and resiliency. But those things bled. The bullets are slamming into Kate McAllister, but there's no blood. Her body reacts to the physics, twitching and shifting as bullets impact, but it doesn't react to the biology of high-speed pieces of metal punching through skin. But, as opposed to his first mission, here there's reportedly a body on ice. As any good biologist will say, start with the body, the theory will work itself out.

Anti-Eagle

2018-06-19, 04:25 PM

Charles stared hard at the footage as he sat in the briefing room, muttering a soft "what the hell" as he watched the little girl threw the first guard. He sat thinking for a good few moments before finally saying something intelligible, other than another muttering of "45 rounds?"

"I'd like to take the first crack at examining the body before it's shipped off or destroyed... Are there any known abnormalities with the family? Has the father been located? I'd like to know if we should be expecting any interference on that end."

Dark Seeker

2018-06-19, 06:35 PM

Carl examines the video carefully, but in truth he has little doubt as to the video’s veracity. He had seen things like this in the past. True the transformation was perhaps not as… immediately visible, but the results were just as momentous and far reaching

After the video is over, He removes his glasses for a moment and massages his eyes.

“Oh, I very much doubt this is a hoax. I've witnessed similar in the past. I'm struck by the fact that the subject does not bleed, despite the gunshots. It will be fascinating to understand just what killed her."

RICHARDS speaks before he can, but Carl swallows his pride and agrees. "I would assist in the autopsy. I suspect we're not dealing with a typical human body, and it is necessary to see just how she was modified. Interviewing other family is a useful first step, as I doubt we'll get much out of the mother, not to say that's not worth a try.

"In addition, I'm certain the young lady had some sort of social media presence. Hopefully that will provide clues as to her recent movements and provide us with a list of her closet friends to interview if it comes to it."

BradWhite

2018-06-20, 09:38 AM

David's voice crackles as he responds to Charles. "The body is on ice in Morgan City. We've told the local authorities not to touch it until CDC arrives. The mother," she says dispassionately, "is better positioned to ask questions about family history. She's 38, holds a doctorate in marine biology, and works for a small environmental research center in Bel Malbion that looks at, ah, 'land-water interfaces.' She's in Morgan City as well, under restraint."

"Regarding her social media presence, she had a Facebook page, which we've recovered, and an Instragram account, which we've been unable to access. The Facebook page is mostly pre-teen laments about how 'lame' her mother is, how 'lame' Bel Malbion is, how she has no friends and everyone there is a redneck. The last few public posts implied she had made some friends. Final post is that she was going to see their place on 'Sunday.' That'd be last Sunday (OOC: It is now Wednesday). There are a three deleted public posts after that."

PossiblyInsane

2018-06-22, 01:15 AM

As he watches the tape, Pyotr's face turns from it's usual expression of vague annoyance to one of careful impassiveness. In the bad old times, and especially in his current line of work, this was not the first mutilated child he'd seen. Not nearly the first. Seeing one riddled with holes wasn't the most pleasant of sights, either.

"Tough girl. Do SWAT know which part they hit that stop her moving? Or it just from being more hole than child?"

The police probably didn't deserve that. They were just the executioners, after all. By the sound of it, someone had wound the kid up and tied her noose long before she went in that hospital. Still, Pyotr had some trouble mustering sympathy for groups of armed men with guns. Call it old habit.

Pyotr took stock of the rest of the group as the briefing continues. Familiar looking young man. Ryan? Something like that. Sounds like he thinks whole thing is all crap. Good start. Everything is crap. Only question is which sort. Professional-ish sounding young doctor. Have to see if actually knows what he's doing. The other young doctor...Pyotr's knuckles whiten as he talks. One of that sort. Sees little girl shot to hell, first thought is rooting around inside to see what ticks. Pyotr jumps on the next topic before thoughts of knocking some respect for basic human dignity into his head, preferably with a pipe wrench, become too alluring.

"These posts actually deleted, or pretend deleted you get with messenger app crap and remote hosting? If second, might still be hanging around her or friend's machine, if we're lucky. Since getting stuck with this mess pretty clear sign we're not, any word from friends of girl with no friends who complains about it to Facebook friends who don't really count as friends? Maybe one of them see posts before it go poof."

Viirin

2018-06-22, 09:53 AM

"He's right." Ryan pointed at the old man with his thumb, like he was hitch hiking.

"There's really no way to tell if it was preserved or not. There were some art websites I saw before that would make any copyright protected image invisible when you took a screenshot, so I made sure the image was available on the screen but Chrome wasn't the active program, and I was able to take a screenshot anyway. Plus, there are a bunch of Youtube videos that got taken down because someone copied a video or image directly, so instead they recorded their screen with a camera of some kind, even a VHS that they converted, and those counted as original content. Or you know, those pirated videos that simply reverse everything horizontally."

Ryan used to give notion to some of his peers' government conspiracies, but after enough scholarly thought, he realized they were all far too inept to actually make stuff like that work.

Dark Seeker

2018-06-22, 05:11 PM

"It also may be useful to examine the young lady's home after we've inspected the body and interviewed the mother," Carl muses in agreement with his colleagues. "Maybe she left her phone behind. I also concur; we should try and browse her internet history and get into her social media accounts. If she's as predictable with passwords as many of her generation it shouldn't prove to be too difficult. And I'm willing to bet there are some traces of who these ' new friends' are on one of her accounts."

"First however, we probably should get the autopsy done, and at least better understand what we are dealing with here."

BradWhite

2018-06-22, 07:51 PM

There's a light mechanical chuckle from behind the screen. "Sounds like you're on the case. If you need help, hit me on the encrypted app. Otherwise, move fast and move light. We don't need Delta involved here. Your flight leaves in thirty minutes. Anyway, SWAT says they hit her in the eye. That's what dropped her. You'll have to find friends that may have seen her deleted posts. That's all on you. Final questions?"

Viirin

2018-06-23, 09:09 PM

"I got one. So, there wasn't any blood in that video" Ryan kept going with the stupid video that idiots believed theory, but he might as well milk it hard enough until they slipped up and just told the truth, "so I'm assuming the eye wasn't destroyed but simply fell on the ground or something and you guys have it in a jar somewhere or something so someone that isn't me, whose word I'm supposed to take without question, can look at it?"

He knew he heard this guy wrong. They WERE Delta Green, and his confusion and lack of paying full attention made him think that he heard them say that they didn't want them involved. They were them. These guys were really confirming Ryan's lack of respect for their intelligence.

BradWhite

2018-06-25, 11:49 AM

There's a long silence at the far end of the screen. "I don't know where the eye is. So sorry. I left my omniscience at home. Get to Morgan City and figure out what the hell we're dealing with here."

You hear a chair scrape against the floor, and the a door close. You still have the tablet.

Viirin

2018-06-25, 12:31 PM

Ryan looks at the others, and after a moment, decides to be the first one to get up. He doesn't take the tablet; someone else can if anyone does.

PossiblyInsane

2018-06-26, 12:14 AM

Pyotr, not entirely trusting anyone else present with it or anything else which might be on it, will scoop up the tablet and stand up. "First stop, Morgan city Morgue, then. Anyone with pretext to let us carve up dead girl?"

Dark Seeker

2018-06-26, 01:30 PM

"I believe I'll be able to. All that's needed is to stick with the cover story; We've determined there's a new and dangerous drug out there on the streets and we need to undertake an autopsy to better understand the threat it poses and how to counteract it. If they still appear reluctant I'll show them a few stories about bath salts and talk of a potential epidemic if nothing is done."

BradWhite

2018-06-27, 09:48 AM

A TSA officer opens the door, hands you an envelope, and escorts you to your flight. Ninety minutes later, you're landing in Louis Armstrong International. You get a brief glimpse of the fabled Crescent City before you're tooling your way north in a rented black Suburban SUV. You cross the mighty Mississippi on the Huey Long Bridge ('every man a king!') and head southwest and then west into Morgan City. It's a hot August day, and storm clouds loom to the north. The land on either side is sodden, earth carved by water, water separated by thin berms of earth. You pass a burning cane brake, and all the elements are there, fire and water, earth and air. And then you enter Morgan City as the storm clouds open up and the Atchafalaya River runs high.

The envelope you were handed contains official looking identifications - three for each of you identifying you, one as EPA, as CDC, as DEA (non-law enforcement). They're fake, but look good enough that you should be able to talk your way past most people. There's $2000 in cash for 'incidental expenses,' i.e., bribery, and four credit cards for more official expenses like food and housing. You pull into Saint Mary's Hospital, under an awning. Katerina McAllister's corpse is in the small morgue in the basement. Her mother is in a psych ward on the fourth floor. You open the car door and everything fogs up as the outside humidity hits the air conditioned interior. The rain pounds on the awning like an animal clawing to get in, and a stream of water flows over your shoes. The storm has done nothing to lift the heat.

Dark Seeker

2018-06-27, 04:27 PM

Carl is quiet for most of the trip, reviewing what little they knew and then taking the opportunity to get a brief nap in. He wanted to be fully recharged for this operation. He had learned early on you did not want to go into a Delta Green operation at anything less than peak capability.

When they arrive at the hospital, he frowns as he gets out and promptly steps into a large rain puddle. That and the heat reminded him just why he hated the south.

"At least this is a convenient location. We have two excellent leads to pursue.Dr. Walther, I suggest you and I examine the corpse of our patient. Mr's. Langrave and Petrovich, perhaps you should try to gain access to the mother and learn whatever you can."

A pause followed. Then, added as almost an afterthought "I do not mean to dictate orders to the rest of you, of course. If you have any other suggestions I am listening."

I'm not sure if Carl would know the others real names, so assume if he would not he addresses you via your codename.

Viirin

2018-06-27, 06:18 PM

"The letter they gave me said you're supposed to pretend my name is Daniel. Didn't yours say something like that?"

Ryan started walking around the building's side, looking at the ground and lower parts of the walls. "I'm going to the basement, but I'm not using the prepared entrance." He continued looking for a rusty storm door.

(OOC I can edit this for replies or can post again depending on situation.)

BradWhite

2018-06-29, 10:28 AM

Ryan steps away from the others into the tempest. It's like standing in a warm shower, but he makes his way around the side of the building, quickly finding a door that enters into the lower levels. It's locked, and possibly alarmed.

Dark Seeker

2018-06-29, 11:29 PM

"That's unlikely to be a good idea," Carl notes upon seeing the door. "Our ID's should get us through security. And given the high profile nature of the crime, I would not be surprised if extra attention is being paid to the girl's body."

Anti-Eagle

2018-07-01, 11:42 AM

Charles spent most of his time silently researching what little he could around the girl, her family, and where she came from. Most of it simply being statistics with what little time he had on the plane.

Everything else to the hospital was him on autopilot

"At least this is a convenient location. We have two excellent leads to pursue.Dr. Walther, I suggest you and I examine the corpse of our patient. Mr's. Langrave and Petrovich, perhaps you should try to gain access to the mother and learn whatever you can."

"I do not mean to dictate orders to the rest of you, of course. If you have any other suggestions I am listening."

Charles thought for a moment before responding, "That works for me. Splitting the job should keep us moving."

Then he saw Ryan moving off to find a- back entrance? Where did they find this guy?

BradWhite

2018-07-02, 09:03 AM

Charles' research turns up nothing of great note. The mother works for a small state environmental agency at a research station in Bel Malbion. She's an expert in coastal degradation and seashore loss, i.e., someone who can tell you why hundreds of acres of Louisiana shore vanish every day, but not someone who can do a damn thing about it. The father, according to birth records, was Ben Clarke of Eugene, Oregon. Clarke and McAllister divorced when Kate was two years old. Kate and her mother live in an apartment in Bel Malbion, and she attends the local K-8 school (high schoolers are bussed to a nearby location).

PossiblyInsane

2018-07-04, 11:57 PM

"I am thinking mother of teenage girl least likely person to know what girl was doing. But sure, maybe worth a shot."

Pyotr watched as the young Landgrave headed for the back entrance. Enterprising man, going where he is not wanted. Usually, find out what is not wanted, that way. Still, they were supposedly here on official business. May not be good idea to be caught skulking around.

...

On the other hand, Whatever You Do, Someone Will Complain About It. Knowing local hospitals and crisis mis-managers, would probably drag feet as long as possible before handing over operation. Alternatively, they would try to 'help', and we'd spend half the time telling them what not to poke and shoving them out from under feet. Better to get look at situation in person before hand, before getting filtered through bureaucrats and sycophants.

At the words of Feldman, Pyotr joins Landgrave, unpacking his toolbox. "Then is good thing we are here to assess security and general operations. If found, we have IDs and pat them on back. If not, we get look around place before locals start being pain in ass, and yell at them later for not securing quarantine or something."

BradWhite

2018-07-05, 10:08 AM

The locked door isn't going to be much of a challenge to anyone with some skills, Pyotr realizes upon examination. The alarm is a little more challenging, but certainly can be handled.

At the front, the main door to the hospital opens up as a fat security guard wobbles out. "Hey, folks," he says with a drawl, "ya'll have business here or just waitin' out the rain?" An ambulance, lights off, pulls away from a lower-level loading dock, into the storm. He gives a friendly wave to the driver, a red-haired woman, who nods back. "Huh, must be new here," he mumbles to himself.

Dark Seeker

2018-07-05, 06:35 PM

No time like the present. Seeing they were spotted, Dr. Feldman moves forward and puts on his best professional face.

"Good afternoon," He shakes the man's hand, resisting the urge to wipe it off on his pants. "Is this St. Mary's Hospital?"

When he gets the response, he nods. "Ah, good. I'm Dr. Byran Allen. I'm with the CDC." He holds out the fake badge, lets the man get a nice long look. It should hold up to scrutiny, and he doubted this fellow was particularly eagle eyed. "These are my colleagues," he adds, leaving them room to introduce themselves.

"We're here to examine the body of Ms. Katerina McAllister and perform an autopsy, as well as interview her mother."

Viirin

2018-07-06, 03:04 AM

"My thoughts exactly, Peter. Well, kind of exactly."

Ryan... uh, Daniel pounds police-like on the back door, making as much noise as possible. The guard can be waved away with just the word 'paperwork' and a flash of his ID card... one of them. Should be fine.

Hopefully, someone would answer and be a lower-level person, easily intimidated. If no one answered, then Peter could just pick the locks. No reason to get the guard involved- just send him back to his guard shack to watch for incoming vehicles or something. Poor guy probably didn't even know who was or wasn't supposed to come in- Ryan had a part time job like that once.
Gate security wasn't a quarter as valuable as anyone thought. "Don't let the people whose names are on this list inside." But no mention of their vehicles, friends who might not know not to let them in but worked there legitimately, no pictures of the people's faces, no nothing. Probably not even the ability to talk to the person in their vehicle outside the gate to see who it is until they're already inside, then hope for the best. Stupid, stupid people in charge.

Then again, private security was really just there to decrease insurance premiums. Pay a company $400 bucks a month for security and your insurance costs $2000 less a month. Who cares what the guard does... even if they just rob the place themselves you've still saved money.

Daniel banged on the back doors a second time.

BradWhite

2018-07-06, 09:21 AM

"That poor girl," the guard (the name Wallace is on his tag) says. "Yeah, come on in, you wanna see the mom or the girl first?"

***

A few knocks on the basement door gets attention. A thin man in orderly's scrubs peeks out of the window. "Hey," he shouts through the glass, "main door is around to the left. You gotta go in through there!"

Anti-Eagle

2018-07-06, 05:36 PM

Richard Waters... He resisted the urge to immediately repeat his cover name as Feldman introduced himself, and asked where they were. Though he did introduce himself to the guard in the brief period between Feldman and the guard speaking. Showing his cover badge for the CDC, and introducing himself as Dr. Richard Waters.

"you wanna see the mom or the girl first?"

"We would like to examine the girl first... though our colleagues may want to speak with the mother while we're working." He glanced around slightly as he heard the knocking, noticing that they had left presumably trying to break in. It would be better if he feigned ignorance of whatever they were doing incase they were caught. "Though I'm not sure where they've got off to..."

Viirin

2018-07-06, 09:20 PM

Ryan flashes Daniel's identification. "EPA! I need to check your gas valves, water intake valves, electrical insulation... and backdoor security doors for any signs of breach or wear!"

Ryan Landgrave secretly hoped the guy would resist slightly more, so he could use one of his own weapons- a phone number to one of the guys he met in group therapy that always plays the straight man in jokes. An intimidating person by the deepness of his voice, and his stoic nonchalant manner of speaking, even when talking about eviscerating someone in detail.

BradWhite

2018-07-09, 09:49 AM

At the Main Entrance

"Come on in," Wallace says. The automatic doors open and a wall of frigid air lunges out. It seems the air conditioning is working quite well today. The lobby of the hospital is the same as every other hospital lobby, a reception desk, a gift shop, a café off to one side. A security guard leaning bored against a column. A line of wheelchairs waiting for customers. "Ya'll need to sign in with Maureen at the front desk," Wallace says, "and be good to that woman. Losin' her daughter, hell of a tough time." Behind the reception desk, three elevator doors. The middle one opens with a cheerful bing! and two bulky orderlies maneuver out a wheelchair with a heavily bandaged woman in it.

At the Basement Entrance

[Hidden Roll] Confidence and bluster often win the day, as they do here. He pushes open the door from his side. "Sorry, come on in. No one told me you were coming. Hell, no one ever tells me anything. Life in the morgue, am I right? As long at the customers don't tell me stuff, I guess it's OK. Allan Showalter, country medical examiner. What'd'ya need to see?"

Dark Seeker

2018-07-09, 02:47 PM

"Yes, a tragedy. These new drugs that are out there on the market can turn people into monsters." Carl's mouth curls up slightly at the double meaning of his words, but he suppresses it. He signs in with his fake information, offering a sympathetic look and polite greeting to Maureen as he does so. Then he sets out for the morgue, eager to get to work.

Viirin

2018-07-09, 03:25 PM

Ryan gives his reply as he goes inside. "There are gauges outside, but those are for utility workers to make sure they're billing you properly. I want to see the gauges inside, designed for the boiler tech to keep the place running safely. If you don't know where they are, then they're probably in a basement or store-room or something where no one goes or thinks about, probably with a rusty door."

The game wasn't fun, but appearances mattered. Why would an inspector care about a corpse or woman institutionalized on a 51/50? Ryan could play.

Anti-Eagle

2018-07-10, 08:05 AM

Charles calmly signs in under his false name and follows Carl to the morgue, walking in silence to the elevator.

BradWhite

2018-07-11, 09:38 AM

Charles and Carl walk into the elevator, push the down button, and wait as the doors slowly close. An upbeat pseudo-reggae version of The Girl from Ipanema is playing. Just as the doors close, they see the woman in the wheelchair struggle sluggishly as she's being pushed out of the hospital doors toward a waiting ambulance with a red-haired driver. They can just overhear her thickly shout 'but I just want to see Katerina!' before the doors shut with a lively 'bing!'

***

In the basement, Ryan and Pyotr are escorted by the medical examiner down the hall. "Bad day for you guys to be here," Showalter says. "Feds everywhere, CDC and now EPA. Hey, we run a clean facility." You pass a door to a room where two men in blue racal biohazard suits are running some sort of equipment on the walls and ceiling. "CDC," Showalter says as he walks you past.

Dark Seeker

2018-07-11, 03:27 PM

The conversation catches Carl's eye, or rather his ear, and he quickly attempts to put his hand in between the doors.

Regardless of his success in this action, he turns towards the guard, either for information if the doors remained open or to convince him to radio in and stop the transfer if they had closed. "That's McAllister's mother? Where are they taking her? I'm afraid I must insist on someone with my team interviewing her first; she may have learned who gave her daughter the drugs, and its crucial we trace down the supplier before we have an epidemic on our hands." The E word was always very effective, in Carl's experience.

Happy to roll here if need be.

PossiblyInsane

2018-07-12, 12:45 AM

Pyotr gives the CDC equipment an appraising glance as they pass."Clean is relative term. Our clean is hospital clean. Their clean is "wax already waxed floor because fly breathed on it" clean."

BradWhite

2018-07-12, 09:17 AM

In the Basement: "Yeah, well, whatever that little girl had in her system, I guess they want to make sure there's none of it left. You should have seen the containment unit they pulled the body out of here with. Like, level-4 Ebola biohazard stuff," Showalter says, stopped at a locked door. "Subbasement's down here," he says, fiddling with a ring of keys. Across the hall from the locked door, the elevator bings and opens.

***

In the Elevator: "Ah, crap," Wallace says, "must'a got wires crossed." He pulls out his radio as the elevator hits the basement level and opens up.

With Carl's Rapport and Lies upon Lies, a roll isn't really necessary to convince Wallace.

***

All Together Now: Inside the elevator, Carl and Charles see Ryan and Pyotr and a man in scrubs fiddling with a door. Outside the elevator, Pyotr and Ryan see Carl, Charles, and a security guy arrive in the elevator. Everyone hears Wallace the security guard make his radio call. "Code Yellow, Code Yellow, we need to stop patient transfer at the front now!"

Viirin

2018-07-17, 11:15 AM

"Code Yellow? Sounds like you guys are busy. I'll just run my inspections here while you deal with that."

Ryan ignores whatever is going on, considering it nothing but a distraction. Is there rust on the pipes? Are the wall fittings stable? Are the pipes the code required distance away from each other? These and similar were the only questions he had in mind. The girl wasn't his problem, and neither was whoever was at the door, if anyone. Maybe someone in a mask or with a thousand-dollar costume.

Hollywood special effects people had to do SOMETHING in their off time.

Dark Seeker

2018-07-18, 01:36 PM

For some reason, Carl has a bad feeling. He's apt to dismiss it as paranoia, but given the... unique nature of this case, something struck him as off. True, it could have been a simple hospital mix up. But it was also could have been the group who infected the girl to begin with coming back to silence her mother. He shoots a meaningful glance towards Charles, and then to the other members of his team outside the elevator.

Then he turns to Wallace. "Sorry for the trouble, but we need to head back upstairs."

Anti-Eagle

2018-07-19, 05:08 PM

Charles stands in silence wondering how this op was going to be, letting things flow for the time being. He was mildly concerned that someone was trying to move the mother, it was a good call to immediately go after that. The body could wait.

PossiblyInsane

2018-07-20, 02:03 AM

Pyotr gave the young Ryan a curt nod. "Good. You go continue inspection. I see what fuss upstairs is, make sure it don't get in way." He turns his gaze to the two young doctors that just showed up in elevator. "Not to tell CDC or whatever how to do job, but you maybe want some more people or other watching body that's causing so much fuss. If whoever wants to transfer patient, they maybe get idea and want complete set. Or don't, whatever."

BradWhite

2018-07-30, 11:54 AM

Pyotr, Charles, and Carl wait as the elevator doors slowly close, like an eternity passing. It goes back up to the ground floor and the doors slowly open. The ambulance is still at the front door, under the canopy, out of the driving rain. The patient appears to have already been loaded aboard, but there's a hospital guard carrying on an intense argument with a burly man dressed as an orderly.

"Look, man, we got a Code Yellow, you have to stay here until we get it sorted out," the guard says.

"I don't give a damn about your codes," the orderly says, "I have transfer papers and orders from the Feds to move her, so I'm moving her right . . . ." He sees the doors open and the three of you and Wallace. He looks back at the red-haired woman in the driver's seat, who nods curtly. "Moving her now!" he shouts, pushing the guard hard. He grabs on to the passenger's side mirror and hops on the running board as the ambulance squeals out, sirens blaring.

***

Downstairs, Showalter fiddles with his keys and finally finds one that opens the rusty door. "OK, man, boiler and other scary things down there," he says to Ryan after hauling the door open. "You need a light?" There are rusty metal stairs descending into darkness. Showalter hits a light switch, which does little to improve the illumination.

Viirin

2018-07-30, 05:07 PM

"I have my own." Ryan replies as he reaches into his pocket for a small silver LED flashlight, trying to find a light switch or something inside the room. "Thanks."

The actor probably had a flashlight with some sort of filter on it that made weird images, or maybe sent out a signal from the battery pack if within a certain proximity. Ryan was playing the game, but he didn't need to follow the path that severely. As soon as he gave these people a sufficient run for their money, they'd break character, and that's what he wanted.

BradWhite

2018-07-31, 11:38 AM

Ryan heads down the creaking metal steps into the sub-basement. The air is filled with the smells of rust and damp. Near the bottom of the steps, where the light from the top barely illuminates the gloom, he finds a light switch, which turns on a few weak florescent bulbs that stutter and flicker and whine. He's about to step onto the concrete floor below when he sees them. Worms. Hundreds of ash-gray worms, maybe six, eight inches long, writhing on the floor. A few more worms drop from the ceiling. As he sees them, they appear to 'see' him. One end of each worm rises, bobbing about, as if sniffing the air, and then all of the worms begin to crawl forward toward Ryan, leaving a maze of tracks in the dust behind him.

OOC: Great place for a stability check, I think.

Viirin

2018-08-01, 06:22 PM

"It isn't real." Ryan tells himself. "I'm just imagining things. It's probably just my schizophrenia acting up again. Just something to add to my notes later." But at the same time, it might not be a bad idea to get someone else's eyes on the room whose imagination wasn't so active.

Maybe they went upstairs using the elevator? They were saying something about that earlier... so that's the direction Ryan went. No need to run, but he did start heading that way immediately.

Anti-Eagle

2018-08-01, 06:28 PM

Charles takes off at a sprint towards the orderly and ambulance unsure if he has any chance at all of catching them before they're gone.

Dark Seeker

2018-08-01, 11:08 PM

Carl curses in a moment of uncontrolled frustration, his worst fears confirmed.

As Charles starts to run he turns towards Wallace, and decides to make use of the resource he's been given. "Get security on the line! Those people are not feds, they're our drug dealers!" Then he runs after Charles.

"Get to the car! We need to follow them!"

BradWhite

2018-08-03, 01:59 PM

Ryan backs up the stairs and the worms try to follow, fortunately thwarted by their lack of arms and legs. They gather at the bottom landing, tracking him as he ascends. He gets to the top to find Showatler there. "Everything look OK down there?" the medical examiner says, sipping from a cup. He offers Ryan a cup. "Coffee?"

***

Charles runs for the ambulance as it pulls out. The orderly on the running board starts trying to get the door open when the vehicle takes a hard right out of the parking lot. The door flies open and the orderly hangs on for dear life as Carl runs for the SUV. Behind him, he can hear Wallace on his walkie-talkie, shouting "Code Red!"

Viirin

2018-08-03, 02:29 PM

"Drinking the water isn't a good idea at this point. Nothing to worry about down there, just a few more cobwebs than I'm used to. I'm going to have to mark that a pipe of some kind is improperly sealed and is venting steam, possibly toxic. Not to mention the unsafe flooring and lack of adequate lighting." Ryan begins scribbling in a luckily blank part of the diary he brought, detailing exactly what he saw, and what he told the other man he said he saw. Showatler didn't need to see what was actually being written.

Delusions could be an effect of whatever chemical is in the air down there, and it might not be his schizophrenia. There was a mental patient they were told they were there to see, at least in part. Maybe she was drugged by whatever they released down there, but he got out before his effects became permanent. Maybe not permanent, but no one was standing nearby asking what he saw while the delusions hit though, either. Who knows what the truth was. Maybe they were all actors and the drugs weren't used on a random innocent to sell the story better, but it was a projector on low-rolling fog to sell the bit to whoever went off the beaten path and investigated.

Ryan only knew that the worms that saw without eyes, smelled without noses, and were psychically linked and aggressive towards anything alive in proximity wasn't real. It was one of the other options he didn't voice.

Deciding to go floor-by-floor, Ryan took the elevator and started to search out the other members of Delta Green and have them check. One was a doctor, right? He could figure out if the chemicals present were hallucinogenic.

Anti-Eagle

2018-08-08, 04:32 PM

Charles not thinking he can actually catch the ambulance sprints and attempts to tackle the orderly off of the ambulance while it's within any sort of striking distance in the parking lot.

Dark Seeker

2018-08-08, 09:47 PM

Carl follows after Charles, hoping to assist in restraining the orderly if his cell mate can grab him.

BradWhite

2018-08-20, 10:08 AM

Charles lunges toward the guy on the ambulance running board, grabbing at him, but he's not fast enough [failed Athletics]. The ambulance squeals out into the storm, lights and sirens blaring. As it turns to the main drag in front of the hospital, it almost goes up on two wheels. Clearly the driver is not familiar with ambulances and how top-heavy they can be. [Charles makes Driving roll]. There's still time for the three of them to get to the SUV to give chase if they want to.

***

Ryan gets to the ground floor. As the elevators open, he sees Charles make a lunge at a man riding an ambulance running board. Carl is right behind Charles. Pyotr is standing in the lobby with the guard.

Viirin

2018-08-20, 03:27 PM

"Hey guys!" Ryan yells at the rest of the work program group he came with. No longer yelling, he walks in the manner the EPA trained him- with confidence and governmental swagger, up to whichever of his workmates is closest.

"I found the source of today's joke" he begins to whisper when close enough, "and I bet you five bucks you can't figure out what it is."

Hallucinogens, toxic chemicals, and a fog machine was... well, they could have done better. However, he'd let everyone else see it for themselves. No reason to make the actors get up in a fuss over having their carefully laid plans stripped so bare so quickly.

Anti-Eagle

2018-08-22, 12:54 PM

Charles immediately recovers from his sprint for the ambulance and looks around before making a dash to the SUV they had arrived in expecting Carl to follow in his lead.

Dark Seeker

2018-08-22, 01:15 PM

Carl does so. He lets Charles drive, knowing the man is a better driver than him.

He does not even pay attention to whatever Ryan is yelling at them.

"They're getting away! Get in!"

Viirin

2018-08-22, 06:56 PM

Ryan, disappointed in his coworkers, grabs a seat on the stairs in front of the front door, patiently awaiting someone to give him proper attention.

PossiblyInsane

2018-08-22, 08:01 PM

Pyotr, as the only member of the cell other than Ryan not engaged in a high stakes automotive chase, glances away from the spectacle in the parking lot as his co-worker comes up and sits on the front steps. "Ok. There is departmental mix-up about patient transfer that has hospital staff running around like headless chickens, some Federal go-betweens hanging off ambulances and breaking road laws. Our colleagues decide to tackle people in parking lot, and be starting road chase after improper-right-turning ambulance. Is this joke you be thinking of?"

Viirin

2018-08-22, 08:04 PM

"That about sums it up." Ryan looks at the old Soviet and adds a bit. "You know, except for the fact that the girl and her mother are nothing but distractions and the real situation is in the basement, just like I thought to begin with."

PossiblyInsane

2018-08-22, 08:10 PM

"Oh?" The old man raises his eyebrows. All this fuss above ground did seem conveniently timed, just as they had started their inspection. So, either coincidence, someone had gone to a lot of fuss to stop cell having look at patients, or someone had gone to lot of fuss to stop cell looking around basement. It was certainly one of those things.

Viirin

2018-08-22, 08:18 PM

"A fog machine loaded not only with the normal dry ice and water, but also some sort of hallucinagens. Not sure if it absorbs through the skin or you breathe it, but the damage to the pipes makes it spread throughout the building, but probably only in possibly pre-ordained locations. I thought I saw something else down there, but I'm not one to be controlled by such intoxicants or my own imagination."

Ryan held his laughter back, but the laughing voices he knew only he could hear... probably. Maybe it was the actors at the 'hospital' that were laughing at something else. Ryan couldn't tell the difference.

PossiblyInsane

2018-08-22, 08:49 PM

Pyotr sighs. This was exactly the sort of hack job you could expect at a place like this. Still...the 'something' did not sound too promising. 'Somethings' usually weren't. Especially somethings in same building as girl that walks through assault rifle fire. Smart kid, Landgrave, but....he hadn't seen everything floating around down there. Not by a long shot.

"Fog machine? Ok. So, it sounding like some kid or hack plumber gets down in basement for whatever kids or hack plumbers do to waste everyone's time, hits sewage line or gas or biohazard waste, probably lets in rats or something, and then no-one notices or reports until major case happens, because who cares about regular inspections in small town where nothing happens? Right. We get equipment by access hatch and suit up, do quick test for usual suspects, I rig up controlled burn to get rid of any swamp gas or funky stuff lurking round in air, and if animal too stupid to go out way it came with people stomping around and fire going off, it lost cause anyways. After that, we find out where holes is, mark it, and plug it. Sound good?"

Viirin

2018-08-22, 08:55 PM

"I don't get to do anything fun, just observe, report, fill out paperwork, and nark. Whatever your training tells you to do, I'll support. But as far as I'm concerned, I've done my job for now until the other guys stop playing around. Plus speaking of paperwork, I'm sure I already have an entire packet to fill out just from what I've already seen."

PossiblyInsane

2018-08-22, 09:16 PM

Pyotr pauses at that. Oh, right.This whole goddamned circus. "Packet and a half, if you want guess. While you doing that, I go stop clowns pratfalling all over gas leak. Maybe after you can give hand while I rig up burner or something."

Pyotr stretches, scowls, and strides for the nearest confused or panicked looking man in a hospital guard uniform with the full fury and contempt of a cival servant having his time wasted.

"You! With Walkie talkie! Who the hell let patient transfer go through without proper notice and documentation?"

BradWhite

2018-08-24, 08:54 AM

The rented SUV (good thing Delta Green always springs for a full-damage waiver) barrels out of the parking lot in pursuit of the ambulance. Weather conditions are dreadful; still a driving rain and slick streets. Charles has the wheel, and he has to pour on the gas. The ambulance, lights blaring, is at least clearing traffic for him, and appears to be headed toward highway 90 and the bridge over the Atchafalaya.

[Drive test from Charles, please.]

Inside, Pyotr's voice breaks the tableau of people starting at the rapidly departing SUV. The woman behind the desk shuffles through her paperwork despairingly. "They said they were from the CDC! They had proper identification and everything! But that's our ambulance they took!"

Viirin

2018-08-25, 06:16 PM

"You were saying?" Ryan, not far from the heroic Pyotr, shows his own identification to the receptionist. Not his real one, but the one given to him by the work program as a stage prop or something. Instead of his normal position, he's two ranks higher and not to be argued with. It should be good enough for the actors.

"You thought that my underlings would act on their own with such force while their boss was present and agreeing to their behavior?" he didn't wait for a response, and became more intimidating while she was in shock. "Tell you what. I'll be nice. Show me the water source- the faucet or whatever, that the girl had been drinking from before any of this happened."

BradWhite

2018-08-28, 09:26 AM

The receptionist points at Wallace. "Wallace! Bring these two to the McAllister girl's room!" Wallace nods.

"Come on, guys. It's just over here, ground floor infectious disease ward." He pushes open the double doors and leads you into a bullet-pocked hallway. Crime scene tape is still up. "This is where she went nuts," Wallace says in a hushed voice. "And here's her room." The room is clearly designed to be a negative pressure room - if the door is opened, outside air flows in, as opposed to the interior - and presumably infectious - air blowing out. It matters little, as the door is off the hinges. Ryan realizes that this room is directly above the basement he was just in. The basement with the worms.

***

Charles almost tips the SUV on the wheels as he hits the corner on to highway 90. The ambulance is perhaps 500 feet ahead, lights on, driving far too fast for the slick conditions of a thunderstorm in Louisiana. He'll have to really floor it to catch up.

Viirin

2018-08-28, 02:06 PM

Ryan, in his 'official guy' tone, greets the receptionist again and asks for the directions to the employee break lounge, and makes sure they have a printer that can connect to the internet and act kind of like a one-way fax machine.

Just because the girl's room was there, it doesn't mean the water pipes connect to the broken one- very often pipes crisscross within the flooring and walls of the building. He doubted (as it would be rather ridiculous to even ask) they had the building' s blueprints on file, so he could go online and search for the building's builder and date, and then check sewage, electrical, and waterline code verfication reports since then. If any renovations happened since it was made, he'd know. If what was drawn was not what was inspected, he'd know that too.

If he got what he wanted from the water pipe blueprints of the place, he could probably figure out which patient would 'go insane' next. Stupid hallucinogenic mist-spewing rich people and their toys playing games.

If the rest of the team came back, then he'd have printouts and proof of what he was saying in which to show them. Some photographs might have been nice, but he didn't bring a camera with him. Especially not one that can snap a flash in fog. Luckily, Pyotr probably knew how all this pipe stuff worked too, even better than Ryan did, so that was less work to do.

But obviously Pyotr was better at it! It was his day job, right? Ryan only knew about this stuff from a high concept perspective, but Pyotr actually knew what he was doing.

Anti-Eagle

2018-08-29, 06:32 PM

"****," Charles mumbled as he nearly tipped the car on its wheels. There was only so much he could do to catch up in the middle of the storm, so he would do what he could. He didn't push it all the way but he might as well have.

Dark Seeker

2018-08-29, 11:27 PM

"Go to the right! Watch out, they're going to turn here!"

Carl continues to shout instructions to Charles, doing what little he can to offer assistance. He wishes he had a gun. But he was a poor shot and this wasn't Hollywood, so he doubted he'd be able to do all that much even if he did.

BradWhite

2018-08-31, 02:38 PM

The ambulance driver doesn't seem to be doing much better than Charles in these conditions. She weaves in and out of traffic on the bridge, clipping the rear bumper of a pickup truck that spins out of control. [Dice rolled.] Carl shouts a warning, Charles throws the SUV into a leftward skid, and metal does not meet metal. You're gaining on the ambulance now as it reaches the crest of the bridge. Charles can see the driver, the small red-haired woman, looking back at him in her rear-view mirror. She smiles, and it is not a nice smile. Just as the SUV reaches the top of the bridge, the ambulance hurls itself into on-coming traffic. The driver kicks her door open and leaps, landing back first on the hood of an oncoming sedan as the ambulance smashes head-on into a semi-truck. The semi overrides the front of the ambulance in a spray of shards and shrapnel as the driver bounces back onto the road, where she is promptly run over by a Jeep.

***

Ryan gets all his printers and computers lined up and then realizes something important - if this is in infectious disease negative pressure ward, it's not supposed to share pipes with anyone. All the output should be shunted into a collection receptacle for destruction. After all, if you have an Ebola patient in here bleeding out and shedding billions of viruses, you want them contained. He can see the drains that allow for hosing the floor off. He can also see, here and there on the floor, small holes, like drill holes, leading down.