Participants:
Scene Title | Come Maching In |
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Synopsis | These aren't Saints. |
Date | December 22, 2008 |
Jersey City, Vanguard Facility
Under cover of night, they begin their approach to the facility. Only the faint glow of night-vision goggles in the darkened streets herald their approach. Bootfalls are drowned out by the crunch of snow, and in groups of five, these black-clad soldiers make a slow and steady advance.
Using hand signs and operating under radio silence, they sweep into the warehouse, assault rifles at the ready. There, however, they find the old and abandoned storage facility not entirely abandoned. Standing not far from the entrance, two men wait expectantly. One in winter-climate urban camouflage, hands folded behind his back and standing at attention. The other a gray-haired old man in a sleek black suit, blue eyes leveled on the teams making their way in through the door.
But what comes isn't an advanced Homeland Security infiltration team, or a covert federal operation. These aren't enemies, these are reinforcements. The fist fifteen soldiers come in, sweeping the building to make certain they're the only ones present, and then one lowers his rifle and slings it over one shoulder, approaching Kazimir Volken to take one knee and bow his head. "Herr Volken, the Eastern European Branch reports loyally."
Kazimir crooks his lips into a smile, watching the other men as another group slowly makes their way inside, far less covertly than the men behind them once the way is cleared. Dressed not in matching uniforms, but heavy winter jackets of different designs, assorted rifles and pistols, many of them bearded and all wearing black berets. "Senior Volken," one croons in a thick accent, "Ready to go." Rico Velasquez' operatives, fresh from the Columbian jungles.
Lastly, a cadre of some sixty men carrying ammo boxes and munitions crates make their way into the warehouse, dressed in urban camouflage BDUs with body armor worn in heavy, high-collared vests over the top. Hans breaks away from Kazimir and approaches them, and the forerunning man nods his head subtly, no saluting.
"Reese," Hans welcomes in a reserved tone, looking over the unit, "You've been briefed?" One fair brow raises as he speaks to the soldier, looking over his shoulder to Kazimir for a moment, as if to confirm his suspicions. Lieutenant Reese nods his head, shouldering his rifle as well, eyes scanning the other groups of soldiers and mercenaries.
"Affirmative, we're on radio-silence until further notice." He affords a nod to Kazimir that isn't returned, "The Invierno is waiting off of the coast to deliver the hardware, sir. Mattias will be expecting Drake."
Hans nods once, considering things, "Tomorrow. I have a few more loose ends to tie up before we start smuggling bigger hardware over the waters." The Lieutenant frowns for a moment, looking to his men and then back.
"Sir, Coast-Guard activity seemed minimal, but we heard chatter while we were coming in — something that happened is making them tighten up." Hans' eyes track to Kazimir for a moment, then back to the Lieutenant, shaking his head briefly.
"We'll handle it." Even as Hans is speaking, Kazimir makes his approach, the soft click of his cane matching the rythm of his footsteps on the concrete floor. "Lord Volken's plan is still progressing as expected."
"Hans." Kazimir intones, voice rough and impatient, "Handle the remainder of this, and inform Drake that his requested ordinance is ready for pickup. Mattias was only to bring one T-80, he'll have to make due."
There's a narrowing of eyes, scrutinizing and uncertain, and Hans gives one slow nod. "Yes, Sir." Both he and Reese bow their heads to Kazimir as the old man begins walking with quiet steps towards the open bay doors of the warehouse.
In the resulting silence, Hans offers a gloved hand to Reese, "Welcome to America." He says with a sneer, "Let's get everyone briefed." It takes a moment for Reese to accept the hand, but he finally does, and his smooth British accent clashes somewhat with Hans' coarse Russian.
"Glad to be here." The tired-looking soldier says with a shake of his head, then a crooked smile. "Time to save the world."
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![]() December 23rd: Not a Fan, Really |