OOC: Log
Stryker and Stark initiate the preparation of Alkali Lake for the coming raid.
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Hidden Entrance Hall(#2506RA)
The massive entry door, obviously intended for the half-dozen Humvees parked in this massive chamber, is located not far away from the base's ruins. The steel doors are easily a foot and a half in thickness, designed to prevent something from escaping. The room is brightly lit with new white lights, the polished floor reflecting the things on it in perfect symmetry. On the opposite side of the massive place, a dock runs along the wall, accessible from a small stairway to the left, where a hallway leads into the base proper.
[Exits : [C]orridor, and [B]ack [O]utside ]
Stryker stands in the middle of the entrance hall, hands folded over the head of his cane, glancing around somewhat agitatedly. Around him, several guards move, some carrying plastic containers that are being placed in various locations, others dismantling metal pipes and entire wall segments, revealing the sheetrock beneath; still others hauling them off in Humvees.
"Sir," is the word spoken alongside the salute offered following the sharp, measured footsteps that herald Lt. Stark's approach. "The last of the non combat personnel have been evacuated. Above ground surveilance is a go, and sections twenty one through thirty are stripped down to bedrock. Does the Colonel have time to hear the full report now?"
Stryker turns and returns the salute, dropping it after a few seconds. "Yes, Lieutenant, very good. Also, yes, the Colonel has time to hear the full report." Stryker glances at the Lt. seriously, a note of urgency barely visible in his eyes.
A curt nod. Stark is a taller man, square faced, and solidly built. Crew cut hair going grey. Eyes fixed in a perpetual squint fix upon Stryker's own. "As the Colonel is aware, the lower levels are cut straight into the stone. The fittings and vents.. everything metallic has been stripped. Down to the damn door hinges, sir. We'll concentrate the security squads in these rooms, as they give us the best chance to inflict sufficient casualties on the intruders. The nerve gas in the plastic delivers systems will also be concentrated in these sectors.. I strongly recommend keeping at least three squads in the upper levels, sir. We can put an entrenched crossfire over both the entrances, and unless Subject A," Magneto, "Is in the first wave, we'll still be fully efective. In addition the areas of the uper levels not used by our security teams have been rigged up with claymore landmines. Blow the noses of any of the bastards go sniffing around," Stark comments with a smirk. "We've also got the explosives placed. Activated by remote, which you'll have in the lower stockade, Colonel, or by a suicide switch, that with your assent, I'll be carrying in command of the teams on the upper floors.." A breath is drawn to continue.
Stryker nods approval, slightly reassured that his precautions are coming along as planned. He remains silent for the moment as he waits for the remainder of the report, while various soldiers continue their work in the hall around the pair of officers.
"The explosives on the upper level will set up a real firestorm.. Burn all the air out, as well as cooking anything left alive for a hundred yards in any direction. We've also placed enough slag rock that the explosion will seal off the lower levels.. This should isolate yourself and the bulk of our security teams from further incursion. If not-" A frown, for if things get to this point, Stark himself and every man on the upper floors is already dead, "We've concentrated more gas cannisters, and a half dozen of the ceramic grenades at both points of entry to the lower perimeter: stairs and elevator. Should the second perimeter be breached, we've placed enough explosives to bring the whole damn thing down. Secondary remote function, again, in your hands. We also have this.." A hand is held out to one side, and without looking or speaking, one of the men with Stark puts a small bundle into his empty hand.
Stryker raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Assuming things get this far, of course, Lieutenant?" He glances to the wrapped bundle. "You've prepared very well, with my commendations, Stark, but what is that?"
A tight smile, as Stark unwraps the coup de grace, "Prototype 'Polaris A-2' semi-automatic handgun. Porceilan construction, fine mechanics cast from orbital grade high-density plastics. Metallurgically clean powder composition, Eight shot clip, carrying anti-personnel ceramic rounds. They'll splinter upon penetration.. Effective killing range of fifteen feet." A brief frown, "We could'nt hurry through the longer range models in time for deployment, and this is the only functional model in existance. We even painted it with the same finish as a standard sidearm. Visually identical." A pause, "You're the only one I can figure Subject A will let get that close, and keep alive, Bill." The gun and a spare clip are held out to Stryker.
Stryker pauses for a moment, eyeing the gun before taking both it and the clip in one hand, the other holding on to his cane. "Excellent," he says absently, face downcast a bit, as though in deep thought. He looks from the gun to the Lieutenant, and holds a terrific mental battle, between ordering the Lieutenant to vacate the base with the other personnel, or keep him here. He looks away for a moment, then mutters, "You don't have to stay, George. My concern is keeping the bastard away from /me/, but you're just one more troop to him."
"With all due respect, sir," Stark replies, "I'm the best tactical officer you've got. That sunovabith comes for you, I mean to bleed the bastard white before he does. You mean to send me out of here, then the Colonel can respectfully kiss my ass." Then Stark will crack a smile. "Begging the Colonel's pardon, of course."
Stryker smiles ruefully. "Thank you, Lieutenant, but I wouldn't dream of it." He glances to the men around him, and barks, "All right, men! Strip this room of its metal, then move on to the helipad exit!" As the soldiers begin to move faster, Stryker nods decisively to the Lieutenant. "Thank you, Stark, for everything. Is that all?"
"Yes, sir," Stark replies with his grin fading into a tight smile, to accompany his salute. "That's all." Turning crisply to one side, he hollers, "You heard the man, MOVE! Corporal Tate, that audio link had BETTER be up and running by the time I'm done talking.." And the business of preparing a fortress for it's final siege is kicked back into motion.
OOC: And yes, Stark was spoofed by someone, and I'm not talking to myself. XD
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hidden Entrance Hall(#2506RA)
The massive entry door, obviously intended for the half-dozen Humvees parked in this massive chamber, is located not far away from the base's ruins. The steel doors are easily a foot and a half in thickness, designed to prevent something from escaping. The room is brightly lit with new white lights, the polished floor reflecting the things on it in perfect symmetry. On the opposite side of the massive place, a dock runs along the wall, accessible from a small stairway to the left, where a hallway leads into the base proper.
[Exits : [C]orridor, and [B]ack [O]utside ]
Stryker stands in the middle of the entrance hall, hands folded over the head of his cane, glancing around somewhat agitatedly. Around him, several guards move, some carrying plastic containers that are being placed in various locations, others dismantling metal pipes and entire wall segments, revealing the sheetrock beneath; still others hauling them off in Humvees.
"Sir," is the word spoken alongside the salute offered following the sharp, measured footsteps that herald Lt. Stark's approach. "The last of the non combat personnel have been evacuated. Above ground surveilance is a go, and sections twenty one through thirty are stripped down to bedrock. Does the Colonel have time to hear the full report now?"
Stryker turns and returns the salute, dropping it after a few seconds. "Yes, Lieutenant, very good. Also, yes, the Colonel has time to hear the full report." Stryker glances at the Lt. seriously, a note of urgency barely visible in his eyes.
A curt nod. Stark is a taller man, square faced, and solidly built. Crew cut hair going grey. Eyes fixed in a perpetual squint fix upon Stryker's own. "As the Colonel is aware, the lower levels are cut straight into the stone. The fittings and vents.. everything metallic has been stripped. Down to the damn door hinges, sir. We'll concentrate the security squads in these rooms, as they give us the best chance to inflict sufficient casualties on the intruders. The nerve gas in the plastic delivers systems will also be concentrated in these sectors.. I strongly recommend keeping at least three squads in the upper levels, sir. We can put an entrenched crossfire over both the entrances, and unless Subject A," Magneto, "Is in the first wave, we'll still be fully efective. In addition the areas of the uper levels not used by our security teams have been rigged up with claymore landmines. Blow the noses of any of the bastards go sniffing around," Stark comments with a smirk. "We've also got the explosives placed. Activated by remote, which you'll have in the lower stockade, Colonel, or by a suicide switch, that with your assent, I'll be carrying in command of the teams on the upper floors.." A breath is drawn to continue.
Stryker nods approval, slightly reassured that his precautions are coming along as planned. He remains silent for the moment as he waits for the remainder of the report, while various soldiers continue their work in the hall around the pair of officers.
"The explosives on the upper level will set up a real firestorm.. Burn all the air out, as well as cooking anything left alive for a hundred yards in any direction. We've also placed enough slag rock that the explosion will seal off the lower levels.. This should isolate yourself and the bulk of our security teams from further incursion. If not-" A frown, for if things get to this point, Stark himself and every man on the upper floors is already dead, "We've concentrated more gas cannisters, and a half dozen of the ceramic grenades at both points of entry to the lower perimeter: stairs and elevator. Should the second perimeter be breached, we've placed enough explosives to bring the whole damn thing down. Secondary remote function, again, in your hands. We also have this.." A hand is held out to one side, and without looking or speaking, one of the men with Stark puts a small bundle into his empty hand.
Stryker raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Assuming things get this far, of course, Lieutenant?" He glances to the wrapped bundle. "You've prepared very well, with my commendations, Stark, but what is that?"
A tight smile, as Stark unwraps the coup de grace, "Prototype 'Polaris A-2' semi-automatic handgun. Porceilan construction, fine mechanics cast from orbital grade high-density plastics. Metallurgically clean powder composition, Eight shot clip, carrying anti-personnel ceramic rounds. They'll splinter upon penetration.. Effective killing range of fifteen feet." A brief frown, "We could'nt hurry through the longer range models in time for deployment, and this is the only functional model in existance. We even painted it with the same finish as a standard sidearm. Visually identical." A pause, "You're the only one I can figure Subject A will let get that close, and keep alive, Bill." The gun and a spare clip are held out to Stryker.
Stryker pauses for a moment, eyeing the gun before taking both it and the clip in one hand, the other holding on to his cane. "Excellent," he says absently, face downcast a bit, as though in deep thought. He looks from the gun to the Lieutenant, and holds a terrific mental battle, between ordering the Lieutenant to vacate the base with the other personnel, or keep him here. He looks away for a moment, then mutters, "You don't have to stay, George. My concern is keeping the bastard away from /me/, but you're just one more troop to him."
"With all due respect, sir," Stark replies, "I'm the best tactical officer you've got. That sunovabith comes for you, I mean to bleed the bastard white before he does. You mean to send me out of here, then the Colonel can respectfully kiss my ass." Then Stark will crack a smile. "Begging the Colonel's pardon, of course."
Stryker smiles ruefully. "Thank you, Lieutenant, but I wouldn't dream of it." He glances to the men around him, and barks, "All right, men! Strip this room of its metal, then move on to the helipad exit!" As the soldiers begin to move faster, Stryker nods decisively to the Lieutenant. "Thank you, Stark, for everything. Is that all?"
"Yes, sir," Stark replies with his grin fading into a tight smile, to accompany his salute. "That's all." Turning crisply to one side, he hollers, "You heard the man, MOVE! Corporal Tate, that audio link had BETTER be up and running by the time I'm done talking.." And the business of preparing a fortress for it's final siege is kicked back into motion.
OOC: And yes, Stark was spoofed by someone, and I'm not talking to myself. XD