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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4004571" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Welcome to the Show: Part 5a – Joe’s Story</strong></p><p></p><p>NEW ORLEANS, LA -- Albert's was a five-star Cajun/French restaurant on the 11th floor of the Westin Canal Palace. Far below the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Mardi Gras parade blared and boomed, growing in volume as the evening commences. </p><p></p><p>Dr. Volk was running late. One of his shirttails was hanging over his belt, his tie was askew, and his face was flushed. He plopped down, panting, and lay his briefcase by his side. </p><p></p><p>"Mr. Fontaine, I presume." Volk shook his hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." </p><p></p><p>Joe Fontaine adjusted his own tie. He wasn't fond of monkey suits, but X-investigations insisted he dress the part. Work in New Orleans would raise the profile of the company. </p><p></p><p>"That's quite all right," said Joe. "You mentioned something about anomalous seismic activity?" </p><p></p><p>Volk nodded. "Could you order for me? I'm in a bit of a rush and I want to get my papers together." </p><p></p><p>Joe blinked. So much for having the dinner comped. He waved a waiter over and ordered alligator in sauce piquant for himself and sautéed frog legs for Volk. Just to teach him a lesson. Judging from Volk, he probably wouldn't notice he was eating Kermit. </p><p></p><p>Volk spread out seismic data from his team's journey to Tonga. The table was fortunately large enough to accommodate Volk's research, as the place was fairly deserted and probably had been that way after Hurricane Katrina. </p><p></p><p>"As can be clearly seen, the seismic activity is of a distinctly regular nature. The pattern does not resemble that of a natural quake. Instead, it is very similar to the tremors associated with sub sea demolitions. Had I thought to enlarge the originals earlier, I might have been suspicious of the activity before going to Tonga." </p><p></p><p>Next he revealed a processed image containing a strange signal response from his own survey data in Tonga. "This signal here is of the normal non-anomalous Tongan Trench wall. This here is of the area near the origin of the tremors. Notice the giant scale of the anomaly. I suspect that the body of material generating this sensor response is highly ferrous. That is, I think there something very large and made of metal in this region. I would say it is on the order of a fifty- or seventy-five-story building, something along that scale." </p><p></p><p>"Dr. Volk, I'm not entirely sure I understand what this has to do with X-investigations..." </p><p></p><p>"My graduate assistant, Theresa Kent, was piloting a mini-sub off the trench at about three thousand feet. She was testing equipment when she fell ill. At least, I thought she fell ill. She recently explained to me that she had seen something horrible during that first dive at sea." </p><p></p><p>Joe leaned forward. This was getting interested. "What did she see?" </p><p></p><p>"She spoke about something huge. That it looked straight at her. The only coherent descriptions of what she saw was glowing behind its eyes." </p><p></p><p>Joe folded his hands. "That's it?" </p><p></p><p>Volk raised a hand. "Please, hear me out. During my original work at the Tongan site I came into contact with a boat, the Proud Ariane, under the registry of a Mr. Jean LeGoullon of LeGoullon Enterprises. The ship is a marine salvage-type vessel. It was anchored in the area throughout the time that we conducted our study. I feel certain that somehow this LeGoullon fellow and the boat are involved in this. I'm not sure exactly what they're doing there." </p><p></p><p>"What do you think they're doing?" asked Joe. </p><p></p><p>"I suspect they are constructing some sort of modular deep sea exploration environment, or perhaps undertaking a mining operation." </p><p></p><p>Joe sighed heavily. What a waste of time. Volk didn't notice. </p><p></p><p>"At any rate, they should not be blasting at such a depth in one of the subduction trenches of the Pacific Rim. I feel compelled to inform this LeGoullon fellow of the dangers, both to his own crew and to the local inhabitants of Tonga. I've a meeting with him in a few minutes, as a matter of fact." </p><p></p><p>"Look, Dr. Volk." Joe leaned forward as their dinner arrived. "X-investigations is an occult and paranormal investigation firm. I'll need to talk to Miss Kent. The rest..." he waved it off. "The rest is more suited for a Navy SEAL team or something." </p><p></p><p>"Of course, of course. " Volk picked at his frog legs, then checked his watch. "I'm sorry, I have to cut this short." He half-rose to shake Joe's hand. "I'm late for my appointment already with LeGoullon Enterprises. Miss Kent is staying at the New Orleans Hilton. You can follow up with her there. Now if you'll excuse me..." </p><p></p><p>Joe nodded. He was glad to see him go. </p><p></p><p>Joe waited a moment for Volk to leave, then walked over to the window. He was much more interested in Mardi Gras festivities than the ramblings of a boring professor. </p><p></p><p>The parade was passing just outside the main entrance to the hotel. A moment later, Dr. Volk appeared in front of the restaurant. He paused briefly to look both ways over the crowds and then descended down some stairs to his left into the street. At the same moment, a huge dragon float was passing by. The hair stood up on the back of Joe's neck. Something was wrong. </p><p></p><p>The head of the float bobbed stiffly this way and that, and occasionally a little puff of steam escaped its mouth. As it passed Dr. Volk, the head bobbed quickly towards him and then away again. </p><p></p><p>Dr. Volk was gone. Joe looked around for him. </p><p></p><p>He spotted a pair of legs protruding from the mouth of the dragon.</p><p></p><p>The illusion dispelled, Joe saw the float for what it really was: a great viperine creature, with a curiously distorted head, grotesquely great clawed appendages, and black rubbery wings of singularly monstrous dimensions. </p><p></p><p>Joe ran for the steps. He huffed down all eleven stories and ran through the Westin's lobby out into the street. </p><p></p><p>The float was visible in the distance. Joe started to run after it but paused as he saw the lights and torches dim near the float. A heavy shadow flapped up the side of a distant building and disappeared into the night sky. </p><p></p><p>Somebody screamed as a pair of legs flopped wetly to the ground.</p><p></p><p>And suddenly, Joe knew he was exactly the right person for the job.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4004571, member: 3285"] [b]Welcome to the Show: Part 5a – Joe’s Story[/b] NEW ORLEANS, LA -- Albert's was a five-star Cajun/French restaurant on the 11th floor of the Westin Canal Palace. Far below the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Mardi Gras parade blared and boomed, growing in volume as the evening commences. Dr. Volk was running late. One of his shirttails was hanging over his belt, his tie was askew, and his face was flushed. He plopped down, panting, and lay his briefcase by his side. "Mr. Fontaine, I presume." Volk shook his hand. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Joe Fontaine adjusted his own tie. He wasn't fond of monkey suits, but X-investigations insisted he dress the part. Work in New Orleans would raise the profile of the company. "That's quite all right," said Joe. "You mentioned something about anomalous seismic activity?" Volk nodded. "Could you order for me? I'm in a bit of a rush and I want to get my papers together." Joe blinked. So much for having the dinner comped. He waved a waiter over and ordered alligator in sauce piquant for himself and sautéed frog legs for Volk. Just to teach him a lesson. Judging from Volk, he probably wouldn't notice he was eating Kermit. Volk spread out seismic data from his team's journey to Tonga. The table was fortunately large enough to accommodate Volk's research, as the place was fairly deserted and probably had been that way after Hurricane Katrina. "As can be clearly seen, the seismic activity is of a distinctly regular nature. The pattern does not resemble that of a natural quake. Instead, it is very similar to the tremors associated with sub sea demolitions. Had I thought to enlarge the originals earlier, I might have been suspicious of the activity before going to Tonga." Next he revealed a processed image containing a strange signal response from his own survey data in Tonga. "This signal here is of the normal non-anomalous Tongan Trench wall. This here is of the area near the origin of the tremors. Notice the giant scale of the anomaly. I suspect that the body of material generating this sensor response is highly ferrous. That is, I think there something very large and made of metal in this region. I would say it is on the order of a fifty- or seventy-five-story building, something along that scale." "Dr. Volk, I'm not entirely sure I understand what this has to do with X-investigations..." "My graduate assistant, Theresa Kent, was piloting a mini-sub off the trench at about three thousand feet. She was testing equipment when she fell ill. At least, I thought she fell ill. She recently explained to me that she had seen something horrible during that first dive at sea." Joe leaned forward. This was getting interested. "What did she see?" "She spoke about something huge. That it looked straight at her. The only coherent descriptions of what she saw was glowing behind its eyes." Joe folded his hands. "That's it?" Volk raised a hand. "Please, hear me out. During my original work at the Tongan site I came into contact with a boat, the Proud Ariane, under the registry of a Mr. Jean LeGoullon of LeGoullon Enterprises. The ship is a marine salvage-type vessel. It was anchored in the area throughout the time that we conducted our study. I feel certain that somehow this LeGoullon fellow and the boat are involved in this. I'm not sure exactly what they're doing there." "What do you think they're doing?" asked Joe. "I suspect they are constructing some sort of modular deep sea exploration environment, or perhaps undertaking a mining operation." Joe sighed heavily. What a waste of time. Volk didn't notice. "At any rate, they should not be blasting at such a depth in one of the subduction trenches of the Pacific Rim. I feel compelled to inform this LeGoullon fellow of the dangers, both to his own crew and to the local inhabitants of Tonga. I've a meeting with him in a few minutes, as a matter of fact." "Look, Dr. Volk." Joe leaned forward as their dinner arrived. "X-investigations is an occult and paranormal investigation firm. I'll need to talk to Miss Kent. The rest..." he waved it off. "The rest is more suited for a Navy SEAL team or something." "Of course, of course. " Volk picked at his frog legs, then checked his watch. "I'm sorry, I have to cut this short." He half-rose to shake Joe's hand. "I'm late for my appointment already with LeGoullon Enterprises. Miss Kent is staying at the New Orleans Hilton. You can follow up with her there. Now if you'll excuse me..." Joe nodded. He was glad to see him go. Joe waited a moment for Volk to leave, then walked over to the window. He was much more interested in Mardi Gras festivities than the ramblings of a boring professor. The parade was passing just outside the main entrance to the hotel. A moment later, Dr. Volk appeared in front of the restaurant. He paused briefly to look both ways over the crowds and then descended down some stairs to his left into the street. At the same moment, a huge dragon float was passing by. The hair stood up on the back of Joe's neck. Something was wrong. The head of the float bobbed stiffly this way and that, and occasionally a little puff of steam escaped its mouth. As it passed Dr. Volk, the head bobbed quickly towards him and then away again. Dr. Volk was gone. Joe looked around for him. He spotted a pair of legs protruding from the mouth of the dragon. The illusion dispelled, Joe saw the float for what it really was: a great viperine creature, with a curiously distorted head, grotesquely great clawed appendages, and black rubbery wings of singularly monstrous dimensions. Joe ran for the steps. He huffed down all eleven stories and ran through the Westin's lobby out into the street. The float was visible in the distance. Joe started to run after it but paused as he saw the lights and torches dim near the float. A heavy shadow flapped up the side of a distant building and disappeared into the night sky. Somebody screamed as a pair of legs flopped wetly to the ground. And suddenly, Joe knew he was exactly the right person for the job. [/QUOTE]
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