|
Jacob listens intently, absorbing every bit of info "Plasma... g@~+~~ned bugs, how did they achieve that? I mean, our science is capable but theirs fiddle with electromagnetic fields capable of charging and maintaining plasma to be fired while keeping it small enough to be portable... our damned best is a big ass hadron accelerator the size of a f@@*ing rugby field, and it would take years of testing so it could be changed to ontain plasma!" he says before blaspheming a couple more times, mixing gaelic, broken arabic and english.
He then raises an eyebrow and looks at Dr. Mori with a grin "Anyway, biometric interface you say? Well, that's more on our league. I wonder if the weapons indeed break when they no longer detext whatever the uglies pass for a life signal, or they are merely inactive. It would seem really useless to break things you could scavenge after the battle and give to other troops... which raises another question: are they locked into a single individual signal or is there a genetic identifier common to all them? I am theorizing here, but having been in the military and supposing their brass isn't so different from ours, I betcha their equipment is also mass produced and meant to be reusable instead of being tailored for every single trooper. Which means someone with the relevant knowledge could study, break and reprogram it so we could use it."
Feeling really happy with his own genius, Jacob takes one of the broken guns and smiles again "I doubt I am that someone, but I guess we lose nothing by trying. Plus it'd be nice making them taste Jacob-made grade-A irish plasma."
"Right..." Rosa says, a little bemused by the doctor's sudden fervor. At least they had someone who was dedicated to the job as their head of research. "Next time we're fighting greys, I'll make sure to take prisoners for you," she half jokes. "But I understand if you need to get back to work. I'll familiarize myself with the medical bay, then I need some shuteye. Good luck with your experiment doctor."
"No, they're plenty broken," Dr. Mori says, shaking her head. She leans down and rummages through another bin of broken bits and pieces, pulling out one of the weapons that were strapped to the arms of the little grey creatures. You can immediately tell the weapon is obliterated; the casing--which looks vaguely like some sort of metallic plastic--is scorched and cracked, and as Dr. Mori pries it open you still get the faint smell of smoke. "I'd guess the things are mass-produced, but we'd need a working one for us to even try and reverse engineer it. For that, we'd probably need to find a live specimen... as if that wasn't a pipe dream." She shrugs, tossing the broken weapon back into the bin. "I'm gonna be up a while, but you ought to get some rest. I think your team's getting shipped out tomorrow."
|
|
Jacob smiles and starts walking to the door. As he is nearing it, the irish turns and says "A real pleasure, Doctor Mori. If I manage to survive those damned ugly aliens, I'll be honored to help you. Good night to you, ma'am."
Jacob then looks for their barracks and sleeps like a baby, dreaming of alien tech repurposed and big f~#$ing explosions.
As the next morning rolls around, your team realizes--if they haven't already--that what is happening is all too real. The compound beneath the U.N. headquarters is even busier than yesterday, with more aides and workers milling about repairing or reactivating old equipment. Still, no one else enters your bunks; it seems they're busy with everything else. However, once you're all up and moving, Lieutenant Winger does make his way into your bunks. "I hope you're all well-rested, because we've got new intel straight from the recovery teams in Basra. I have a feeling General Hatcher will want to fill you in as soon as possible." He does leave you to get ready, telling you to meet him and the General where they met him yesterday.
When you finally arrive, the general sits facing the large holographic projection with his arms folded across his chest. He stands when you enter, giving you each a nod. "Good morning, I hope you've slept well. As I believe the Lieutenant informed you, we have some new information from the recovery teams on the ground in Basra. It seems like local terrorist cell activity has increased in the past few days, and members of our one of our recovery teams were assaulted within the city limits. We have reason to believe that they're also trying to salvage some of this technology, but I... we'll say it's a hunch that there's something deeper going on here."
"Terrorists trying to salvage alien technology? That cannot possibly end well. Do we have any other intelligence, or is that all we know so far?"
Jackalyn's fists tighten slightly at the mention of terrorists, but she says nothing,
Gavril also gives a subtle reaction to the news, his eyes narrowing slightly for a second before he blinks and they open fully again. "Yes, intelligence is good. Is it Daesh? Another group? I assume we're going to give support to the local forces, sir."
Kris nods So, are we going as a Recovery Op, or are we going in as a Hit squad? you get the feeling from the Norwegian's demeanor he'd rather the latter.
Borax smirks, "I'm surprised it's taken them this long. I can promise you that the moment this hit the news, these types were on a plane straight to Basra. The city will be crawling with fortune hunters for months to come. We don't have the numbers to stop them all. I think our best option is to take it first and spread disinformation about where tech is located. If we can develop some type of Geiger counter or metal detector for alien tech, it would greatly aid our efforts"
"That's the thing, Bohan. It isn't on the news, not yet; that carpet bombing wasn't officially reported, and we haven't seen anything about it on the news either. Officially, we won't know the 'cause' of the damage for another few weeks, once we've managed to sweep the city more thoroughly. They've got information from somewhere else... and I want to know where." The general clicks a small remote, and the display changes to a holographic image of a bearded Middle Eastern gentleman. "We don't know for certain who they're affiliated with, but this is a picture of their leader; he's been at every raid as they occur and seems to be directing them. As for your objective, I want you to find out how they knew about the technology in Basra, and who told them... by any means necessary." The general gives a look to Jackalyn, but doesn't say anything. "A hit squad would be more accurate, Lieutenant. I want you to find this information and raze them to the ground when you're done. Not only are they terrorists, but they have dangerous information that someone else could get their hands on."
"Wonderful, I'm part of a hit squad now. Mom would be so proud of me." She bit her lip in front of their commander and nodded. "So recover the tech, take out the terrorists, loot any information they have, and make it back alive. Should we be worried about any aliens, or do we have confirmation that none of them survived?"
Jackalyn clears her throat. "Sir, I have prior experience in this area. Should I take the lead on this?"
"We've all got experience with various aspects of this mission, it's probably why we were chosen."
"With all due respect, Bohan, have you spent three months out in the desert dismantling a terror cell by yourself, with almost no supplies, while taking care of two injured squadmates? I have experience with terrorists."
"I've had plenty of run-ins with terrorists. As I'm sure many others have as well. I've spent the better part of my career attempting to recoverer alien tech in Africa. We done comparing who has got the bigger penus?"
Without waiting for an answer, Borax turns back to the general,
"Sir, terrorist usually attempt to destabilize a government or municipality to create fear. The fear is used to achieve political goals. You can't terrorize a city that has been evacuated. While I don't doubt that these operatives may be known terrorist, this does not fit the MO. So I agree, something else is going on here. "
Jackalyn raises an eyebrow. "I think you've automatically got me beat on that front, Bohan. And in light of that offhanded dramatic revelation, it seems that you are more qualified to lead for this mission."
Borax turns an eye to Jackalyn, "I have no desire to lead the mission. I'll do my best to complete the mission no matter who is in charge. But hopefully we can all agree that this is not about textbook terrorism."
"I thought we had a commanding officer within our own group already?" Gavril folds his arms frowns. "Maybe instead of arguing over who's in charge, we do the job. Or should we all request a new rank within this organization?" The Romanian pauses just long enough to look at each of the others before turning his gaze back on the general. "I'd guess you have dossiers for us, and we can read them on the flight? When do we head out, sir?"
"That's correct; Lieutenant Kristophson will remain as your commanding officer, with Petty Officer Bohan acting as second in command." The general says, after Gavril makes his comment. "However, I would echo your concerns that this isn't 'textbook terrorism', as far as anything is. None of the recovery team have reported contact with anything but these terrorist scavengers, but it's unknown as to whether any aliens may have survived and continue to lurk about the city." The general motions for you to follow him, and for the first time you notice the man's slight limp as he leads you towards what appears to be a sort of aircraft hangar. "You'll be leaving in as soon as possible, and stationed at the US Embassy in Baghdad. Sergeant Wilkes will be flying you," he comments, motioning to your pilot from Basra as he heads out into the hangar. "You'll be in contact with Lieutenant Winger here at Central throughout your mission; he'll be your handler, for lack of a better term." He swipes a key-card to get into the hangar, and the doors hiss open. As he walks, a large aircraft rises up as a hole opens up to allow it to rise onto the flight deck. "You'll be taking the Skyranger. Are there any questions?"
Kris frowns at the duo as they bicker back and forth.
Is enough krangling yes? We will kill who needs killing and take back alien tech.
Borax seems to ignore the inaccurate implication that he's arguing about who is in charge.
"What about weapons and gear?"
"Your equipment will be loaded onto the Skyranger, along with some requisitioned equipment and basic supplies. Anything else you need, you'll have to requisition from the forces already there, or manage to find it in the field." The general says, pointing towards several workers who are loading equipment onto the aircraft. "If there's anything specific you feel you'll need--that you didn't have on you in Basra, at any rate--we can have it loaded onto the Skyranger before you lift off."
Jackalyn nods. "Yes, sir. I would like to requisition a device that could generate an incapacitating electric current and some razor wire, sir."
"Also something that can restrain a live target," Rosa adds. "Just in case we need to take one of the terrorists for 'questioning' or perhaps taking a live specimen for study if any of the ETs are still alive. It depends on our ability to hold prisoners here I suppose."
"That's why I requested the razorwire and electric current generator, Rosa. They are surprisingly versatile."
"How exactly do you plan to restrain someone with razor wire?"
"By cutting and cording it up to make it thick enough that unless we trap a particularly strong alien it'll hold. The original device was created from scavenged primitive perimeter defenses, but it is surprisingly effective. Especially when hooked up to a generator that can create electric currents. They make an effective interrogation device together or alone." Jacqueline's eyes appear distant.
Gavril looks at Jackalyn with a mixture of subtle surprise and affirmed respect. "That would do the job, yes. When it hurts to even try struggling against your bonds, you're less likely to really attempt it."
|
|
Jacob friendly claps his friends on the back "If yall have finished discussing estate-of-the-art torture and retention methods, I would like to ask for a grenade launcher." he says with a smile "Failing that, I ask for permission to provide myself one on the field. I'm asking because I've figured out we may have to maintain a low profile... and in the evet of 'No High Explosives' directives."
Borax turns to Rosa and Jackalyn, "Good thinking you two." Borax then turns back to the general, "Sir, do we have the facilities for live containment? No point in capturing one alive if we have no quarantine."
"As long as we don't have our prisoners bleeding out in the middle of interrogation. I'm ready to ship out I suppose."
"Based on what little we've been able to glean from the bodies you've recovered, we don't have any facilities that are capable of holding them... yet. I've tasked Dr. Mori with devising a sort of containment chamber for any potential live specimens. However, we do have something you can use for incapacitating live targets," The general pauses, thinking for a moment. "Right, yes. They'll be with Dr. Stein, I believe. If you're interested in such a thing, I suggest you stop by his lab before you depart; he was testing them to make sure they had the desired effect. As for your other requests... well, I'll have them loaded onto the Skyranger before your departure. If you're going to stop by Stein's lab, I suggest you all do so quickly."
Borax makes his way to Dr. Stein and retrieves the device. He then checks in with Dr. Mori to determine how many specimens and what size are possible to contain at the facility.
"Understood," Rosa says. "We'll pick it up and get in the air immediately."
As you enter his lab, Dr. Stein is currently aiming some sort of handgun-like device at one of his researchers, squinting as he lines up the weapon with the man's chest. "Oh, hello!" he says cheerfully, not looking away from his target. "I'm assuming you're here for these," he says, clearly referring to the weapon in his hands. "Dr. Mori and I have been referring to them as 'Arc Throwers', and I have to say, that woman has really outdone herself. They're sort of like tasers, but much more efficient; no wires or darts to hit the target, and it's a lot faster. They throw out a targeted electrical pulse calibrated to interfere with a target's central nervous system, specifically targeting the hypothalamus and midbrain structures; in essence, they force a target into REM sleep." Without warning, the doctor pulls the trigger and a singular spark of electricity pops from the barrel for an instant, connecting with the researcher only a second before he loses muscle tone and collapses to the floor. "I've been testing it to ensure they're non-lethal and don't produce any lasting damage, and it seems we've found the sweet spot. The arc thrower induces an abnormally long REM cycle, so don't worry about them waking up; they should be unconscious for upwards of twelve to sixteen hours if you don't wake them up. I don't know how well it would work on non-terrestrial specimens, but assuming they're nervous system is at least rudimentarily similar you shouldn't have any problems." Dr. Stein walks over and opens a small bottle of smelling salts, rousing his assistant before helping him to his feet.
"Don't go using these too often, though. A single power cell is about the same size as a handgun magazine, and it'll only fuel one shot. Not to mention, they only work at fairly close range. Still, they ought to be useful. We have one made for each of you," he finishes, pulling out a rolling table with six Arc Throwers on it, after replacing the one he was holding. "We've got enough power cells for you each to take three of them. Good luck."
"Impressive. So you've managed to create a weapon that can render someone unconscious with a single hit. This is a remarkable piece of technology doctor. And it could revolutionize police and military action as well as the medical field. You have quite the talent." Rose scoops up one of the weapons and absently checks the sights and weight, careful not to point it at anyone. "Thank you. Hopefully these will do the job just fine." She slides three of the cells in to pockets on her vest and holsters the arc thrower.
"Well, I only consulted; Dr. Mori managed to cobble together the prototype from some of the damaged alien weapons. Still, it is rather impressive," he says, nodding as Rosa examines the weapon. "Oh, another thing; I've been told the energy cells are highly unstable, so I would recommend doing your best not to damage them through misfires or the like. We're not sure what would happen, but Dr. Mori seems certain it wouldn't be anything good." He shrugs, looking down at the weapons still on his cart. "I suggest you all get a move on, unless you need something else from me. We're working on a tight schedule, after all."
"Well, then I guess I should be thanking her, though you both deserve the credit for making something this impressive. But I think we need to get a move on. We'll see just how well it works when we put it to a field test."
After acquiring your newest weapon from Dr. Stein, you head back to the Skyranger with the rest of your equipment already loaded and ready to go. The general sees you off, giving you a nod as you board the aircraft. "Central, this is Big Sky. We're ready for liftoff, over." The voice comes through the intercom, with the group of you seated in the rear. The inside of the Skyranger is well-furnished and comfortable, clearly meant to allow for long travel without causing fatigue or discomfort. Still, to either side of the main passenger area is a small door labeled 'Gunnery Bay', leaving no impression that the craft is incapable of defending itself. Looking around, you can clearly see that each of you has a dossier to look through during the flight. "Alright, here we go," the sergeant says as the craft lifts off, its rotors carrying you through an opening in the base's roof. As the Skyranger clears the base, you notice you've risen from a now quickly-closing platform off the coast of New York City. "Quite a view, right? I'd make yourselves comfortable. It's gonna be a long ride."
OPERATION FALLEN SHIELD: 5:25 AM GMT, APRIL 14TH, 2019
- - - - - - - - - -
You land outside the UN Iraqi Headquarters in the early morning, the Skyranger touching down on a helicopter pad as a man in combat fatigues approaches the aircraft. As the passenger bay opens, several UN soldiers are waiting outside, armed and ready for trouble. "Are you with, uhh, XCOM?" The man asking takes a step into the Skyranger, pulling off his helmet. "I'm Master Sargent Mylls, it's good to see you. I know you all received dossiers, but I'm supposed to fill you in on the situation on the ground and show you where we encountered the terrorist operatives." He waves you on out, the soldiers outside on the alert as you head into the UN Headquarters. While the building isn't as grand as the previous one, you find yourself heading down another small maze of passageways before walking through a set of steel doors, the faded paint reading 'XCOM INITIATIVE' as they swing open. The Master Sargent takes you to a meeting room, a picture of a Middle Eastern man holding a rifle and wearing combat fatigues already up on the screen.
"This is Malik Ibn-Ahad, a known terrorist originally operating out of Syria. He's been tied previously to Al Qaeda and Daesh, along with splinter groups... but he doesn't seem to be operating in those circles currently. As far as we can tell, he and whomever he's leading or working for found out about the situation in Basra and are trying to take advantage of it. He's been leading armed raids to scavenge whatever he can from the area, using guerrilla tactics to overwhelm UN forces before absconding with whatever they can carry. There have been seven of these reported raids, with Malik being present for at least four of them." He clicks a small device, and the picture changes to a map of Basra with several paths marked with colored lines, along with marks at various locations in the city. "These are the areas they've attacked, along with anything they managed to find while avoiding us. We haven't been able to establish their base of operations in the area or track them down; they vanish like ghosts once they take what they're there for. It's strange behavior, and certainly not the standard MO for a terrorist cell. Perhaps even more worrying, the news about Basra hasn't hit the press yet, and won't officially for at least another week or two. We don't know where their information is coming from." He sighs, shaking his head. "I'm considering the possibility of a mole."
Jacqueline nods. "Can you show me the locations where they hit? What weapons did they use?"
Borax listens to the briefing, folds his arms and seems perplexed, "What information do we have that would be useful to fortune hunters?"
|
|
Jacob can help but laugh a bit after listening the report "Outsmarted by local bumf~%~s who used to bomb 'heathen' mosques and battle americans? C'mon, it sounds like a joke."
"Those poor bastards couldn't outsmart a local policeman without blowing themselves. I bet y'all they are being directed by someone else. Hundred bucks say it's the ruskies." says the irish, waiting for anybody to take on the bet. "Anyway, you all are more prepared than me in all of this counter terrorist stuff, so I guess I'll try to do my job: are they leaving any kind of explosive devices? Car bombs perhaps? Good ol' mines? I could take care of those, as well as prepare our own if you want me too... but I'd rather load our traps with non-lethal stuff. Both because I don't want to blow a poor idiot who's following orders and so we can interrogate one."
Having said that, Jacob starts to probe and inspect his Arc Thrower to see if he can rig it or weaponize it in trap form.
"The areas where we've encountered them are marked on the map, although if you'd like we can escort you to the areas after we finish here. As for information... who knows? But there's all this salvage lying around that could be potentially world-changing. Or world-destroying, for that matter. Still, we've been marking areas of interest to return to sweep them more thoroughly, and all the attacks have taken place in those areas." The soldier stops to let Jacob speak, shaking his head when the irishman speaks of explosives. "I haven't seen anything yet, but we haven't ruled it out. I would surmise you're right that someone else is pulling the strings--or at least heavily involved--but we don't know who."
"So there's an information leak somewhere... which means there's a chance they know we're coming. This could be problematic. Is there any sort of pattern to the search areas that you've noticed?"
"I doubt they'd know you're coming, at least not yet. At the moment, only myself and my immediate superiors know of your arrival... well, them and my men here." At Rosa's second question, the man gives a frown. "No, I don't know that I've really seen any sort of pattern. I've checked to see if they're localized in specific areas, and I haven't seen anything of note. I've even taken to looking at who was on patrol at the time, and I have nothing. Whoever's leaking them information isn't doing it on patrols, or it's a more organized and widespread problem than I thought."
Gavril muses over the information, trying to piece together a plan of action. He knew something of tracking terrorists, but more in terms of actual tracking or gathering information from locals than piecing together scraps of intelligence to form a better idea. With nothing more than marks on paper and cold leads, he wasn't sure where to start.
"If you don't have ideas of who the mole is, we should go to the most recent site of attack. Maybe we can find a trail, a clue. Something." The big man shrugs. "Or we just follow your next salvage team. Ambush the ambushers."
"One of the next salvage runs is headed past the last attack site, we can hit it on the way there." The Master Sergeant motions for his men to head outside, and he follows along with the team. "For security purposes, no one outside my team was informed you'd be arriving; the first time they'll know anyone's arrived is when we head out. I'll give you all time to get suited up, meet me back here at 0700. That's when the first teams are heading out." Assuming the group doesn't have anything else they want to do, the Master Sergeant is waiting for you to head out back into Basra when you arrive. A few of the soldiers murmur that there's an outside team, but no one seems to be too angry or upset about the development. The team sets out soon after, heading past marked locations already visited, until the sergeant stops and turns to you. "This is where the last attack occurred. We took the liberty of marking what we could; the blue flags are where the insurgents were located, and the green marks items that either we or the insurgents managed to take from here."