[D20 Modern] Stargate - Part I Recruitment - IC [PG-13]

"Alright, Major. You don't need to wave our flag in my face, consider me on the team." Durant went immediatley to work. "Get me transportation to New York. I want to leave 10 minutes after Sgt. Montoya arrives. He will go with me to get the 3 people in New York and then to Boston. I have a plan from there, but for now we are going to leave it at that. This will also give me a chance to get to know Montoya and how he works."

"Next is weapons," Durant continued as he began to scribble something down on a sheet of paper. "Myself and Montoya are going to need firearms. If you can't get them to us here, we will need them when we land in New York. Something small and concealable. I figure we will be in the civillian world for a lot of this, no need to cause too much alarm. How about an MP5 PDW and an HK MK23. Same for the kid, unless he has different preferences."

"Also," he continued, "I need this note sent to Andreev Ilianov, with his letter. Do you have an envelope I can seal it in. I have not seen him in awhile, but this will help things."

"What about comms?" Durant was feeling comfortable. This was his world, this is what he lived for, building a team at the last minute to save the world. I am going to miss this one day, when they finally take it all away. "We are going to need radios and secure cell phones would be good. Who do we contact and when." Durant smiled, "I'm not going to fast for you, am I Major?"
 

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Originally posted by Sgt. Montoya
"Shouldn't we be going to baggage check," he inquired, "to get my other gear?"

At the question, one airman looked down to the right of the emergenct exit - sitting there were Montoya's other bag(s), with the distinctive red pull tags airports use to get certain luggage quickly.

At that one airman opened the emergency exit and started down the stairs while the other waited for Montoya to make his way down.

As he proceeded down the metal stairs, over the din of an elderly woman saying "He's such a nice young man, I wish my boy was half as nice as . . . " Montoya heard the familiar snap of a clasp behind him. He recognized that as sidearm holster being unsecured for easy weapon access.

OOC: Montoya
 

Washington Dulles International Airport
Sometime Early Afternoon, Late Spring 2003


Major Davis smiled. He leaned forward on the black leather and tapped the security glass twice. It rolled down and a black briefcase similar to the one Major Davis was carrying was handed back and the glass went back up.

When the glass was fully up, Major Davis handed the briefcase to Durant.

"Within the case are three secure cell phones with secure mobile to mobile instant communication within 500 miles. The phones are also PDAs, handle e-mail, and have internet access. My e-mail and contact numbers are on the first phone on the left. Documents are Stargate set-up and operation are included on the third phone/pda. Two Glock 20s and a HK MP5K have been added to your gear. A private jet is leaving Dulles at 1:40pm and will arrive in JFK at 2:50pm - no gear restrictions necessary on that flight as you'll be the only two passengers on board."

"As for the letter," Major Davis said as he reached into his briefcase pulling out a USAF envelope, "I'll make sure it gets delivered. Shall we head over to get Sgt. Montoya?"

OOC= Durant
 

Montoya picked up his rather heavy backpack by the straps with his right hand and headed out the emergency door and started down the steps.

Keia said:


...Montoya heard the familiar snap of a clasp behind him. He recognized that as sidearm holster being unsecured for easy weapon access.

OOC: Montoya

Something about that sound brought the rest of the irregularities of his welcoming committee to the front of his thoughts. Hmmm... overseas flight... no customs... and I don't like the sound of that snap... With a feigned casualness, Montoya, dropped his seabag on the steps in front of him, muttered "Whoops!", and tossed his backpack at the back of the airman in front of him. He then whipped around and went to disarm the airman behind him.

V
 

Craig Durant smiled a wide smile. "Major Davis, I think I am going to like working with you!" Durant opened the case in front of him, took the phone on the left and placed it into his inside vest pocket. He then closed the case and kept it in his hand. "Let's not keep Seargent Montoya waiting."
 

Washington Dulles International Airport
Emergency Exit Stairs


Montoya dropped the sea bag and tossed his heavy backpack at the airman descending the stairs. Catching the airman in mid-stride the backpack strikes his soundly in his mid back and both of the airman's arms go flailing as he makes a rapid, unassisted descent to the pavement.

It is amazing the detailed sounds one hears when the adrenaline is running high. The familiar sound of gunmetal passing through a leather holster is heard as in a smooth action Montoya swung around to deal with the other airman. As the airman leveled his gun at Montoya, a quick grab by Montoya relieved the airman of his gun.

Surprised by the turn of events, the airman swung wildly at Montoya but missed.

Behind Montoya, a shout is heard "Freeze!"

(OOC: Montoya has an AoA on the Airman on the stairs if he wishes. Montoya is now holding a Beretta 92F. Note: first roll by Montoya - Natural 20 on backpack slam.)
 
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Washington Dulles International Airport
Sometime Early Afternoon, Late Spring 2003


"Alright," Major Davis replied and again leaned forward to tap on the security glass. The glass lowered and driving instructions were given.

Driving along the approved ground vehicle routes over the asphalt of the airport, the black sedan weaves its way through the various terminals, cargo carriers, equipment and parked airplanes. On one particular turn . . .

"Holy Sh*t!" Major Davis called out, "Step on it, airman!"

As Durant looked out the window where Davis indicated, he didn't see what had Davis so concerned.
 

Chocktaw Reservation, Oklahoma
Sometime Late Afternoon, Late Spring, 2003


The southwest afternoon sun was not being kind to Jeremiah's exposed skin. With his inherited skin-type and too much time indoors, his skin preferred to turn red before peeling rather than the natural tan that other, luckier people received.

The man handed Jeremiah an envelope. "Eyes Only" was emblazoned upon the outside as Jeremiah ripped it open to see what it might have inside.

He read it through about four times before he looked up at the lieutenant, "You're serious?" Jeremiah looked at the man standing there waiting for the punch line. After a moment Jeremiah realized there was no punch line. "Ok, when do we leave" Jeremiah asked as he sighed and looked back at the letter. “Give me a moment - I have to say good-bye to a few people.”

The airman nodded in understanding and stood in a relaxed stance, awaiting the return of his charge. The airman even looked comfortable in the afternoon sun.

OOC: Grayson (Calim)
 
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Montoya, pumped on adrenaline, took a swing at the airman with his own pistol and jumped over the stair rail to the tarmac below, zigzagging towards the nearest and best available cover. Once there he scanned the area to get his bearings and to see just what he was up against. While catching his breath, he quickly inspected the newly acquired Baretta, checking how much ammo was in the clip and clicking off the safety (if necessary). He called out over the past the intervening cover. "You don't know who you're messin' with, pindejos. Cautiously he peered out of the cover, ready to fire if fired upon. (ooc: He will not fire back, at this time, if the shooter is an obvious security person.)

V
 

Washington Dulles International Airport
The Tarmac


The airman made a deft blocking maneuver against the swing by Montoya, showing he had some skill with hand to hand fighting. As Montoya landed on his feet on the tarmac, an elderly woman could be heard above him, "You leave that nice young man alone" and the thud of an unwieldly purse against a body.

As Montoya darted behind a baggage cart, a bullet *pinged* off of the metal guard of the baggage cart. Looking down at the Beretta as bullet thudded into the baggage on the cart, Montoya saw that the safety was off and the gun appeared to have a full clip .9mm bullets (15 in all).

Looking over the baggage cart, Montoya noted the one airman he dropped on the tarmac previously was firing on him, the other airman ducked down when seeing him on the opposite side of the baggage cart, and the ominous appearance of a black sedan with tinted windows racing across the tarmac at high speeds straight toward him.

OOC: Montoya
 

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