[Metal Joe d20 Modern] No Rest for the Nameless [PG-17]

[Krizzel]

September 1st, 2015
2021 Hours Pacific Standard Time
Las Vegas, Nevada

The young lieutenant blushed slightly, glancing about with concern. "Oh! Right!" Satisfied that nothing seems amiss with the nearby casino patrons, he nodded to Zeus. "Follow me, please. We've got a plane waiting."

 

[Krizzel]

Los Angeles...

The military man frowned, then marched over to the player with the ball, snagging it out of his hands deftly. "Lemme see that, son."

Then he threw the ball roughly to Drew. "Alright, Borokowski. You've got thirty seconds to get that ball through the hoop and then get yourself upstairs. If you don't make it in time, then you're going to have to run all the way to the base."

"Understood?" he barked, already walking back to the doors.

 

[Krizzel]

Washington State...

"They are, Sergeant," the pilot replied, indicating that he didn't know but that it was someone important. "The army, I guess, right? Or are you a SEAL or somethin'?"

As Wraith got closer, he could see the fighter had Air Force markings, and stenciled neatly on the side under the canopy was

Lt. R. Thompson
'Regal Eagle'

denoting the pilot. Just aft of that was the name and callsign of the unpresent EWO*/navigator.

"Why they got me flyin' up here to get you instead of one of your own I don't know. I guess they wanted the best," he opined with a grin. "Oh, and they said if you had 'baggage' they'll have someone along to pick it up 'round about, oh," he glanced at his watch, "twenty-five minutes from now."



* Electronic Warfare Officer

 

[Ashrem Bayle]

Washington State...

"The army, I guess, right? Or are you a SEAL or somethin'?"

Wraith smirked. "Or somethin'.."

"Why they got me flyin' up here to get you instead of one of your own I don't know. I guess they wanted the best," he opined with a grin. "Oh, and they said if you had 'baggage' they'll have someone along to pick it up 'round about, oh," he glanced at his watch, "twenty-five minutes from now."

"Good. I've been after this big bastard for a while and I ain't about to let no buzzards get him. You ain't got no game warden or nobody like that coming to collect him do you? Hunting at night with my kinda equipment ain't exactly legal you see?"

Climbing into the jet he took a moment to get comfortable then asked, "So where are we going LT?"

 

[Krizzel]

Yosemite...

A fat-bodied plane glided over the campsite with a relatively quiet whirring of its rotors, slowing down as it did so. The large rotor assemblies at the end of each wing tilted upwards with the with the movement, until just as suddenly as the plane had appeared it was now a helicopter, of sorts. Hovering a few feet over the ground, the helicopter waited as a side door opened, and a large man jumped out.

Like the soldier far off in California, this man also was dressed in fatigue pants and an OD*-tee, but he was dark-skinned, with a shaved head. He was also bigger, and obviously strong from his bulging muscles. A combat grade PDA sat in a holster on his hip, along with myriad of other small utility items on his belt.

"McCormick!" the big soldier called out in a deep voice over the noise of the aircraft.



* Olive Drab

 

[Krizzel]

Washington State...

"No, there's an arctic warfare training camp up here somewhere. I was told they'll take the excuse to run a mock recovery op, so no need to worry about the wardens," Thompson assured, lending Wraith a hand and turning around to make sure he got strapped in correctly. "Looks like a beaut!'" he added with a smile.

"Anyway," he went on, closing the canopy and easing the jet up vertically into the air, "we're headed to California, or to Carlsberg AFB* to be precise. That's the new base they built on Allen Island** about ten years back."

Clear of the treeline, the afterburner started lifting back into position and pushing the jet forward as the turbine shut down and it's doors slid closed.



* Air Force Base
** an island just off the coast of southern California

 

[Ashrem Bayle]

Washington State
In route to Carlsberg AFB

Wraith leaned back and stared out the canopy at the passing clouds as the moonlight glinted off of them. He enjoyed flying.

"What is our ETA?"

 

[Jemal]

Zeus follows the lt to wherever he's heading, but keeps a careful eye out for anything out of the 'ordinary'

 

[perivas]

Drew throws the ball at the lithe figure. "Hurry up and check it. I gotta go." The ball is punched back to Drew, who immediately passes it to his left and dashes to his right. He stops for only an instant to catch the ball and immediately shoots it in an extremely high arc. He turns around and runs towards the plane, all the while the ball is still in the air. He gets onboard, just as the ball banks uglily off the backboard and through the hoop. "17 - 15!" Drew yells back. "'Til next time, Joe!"

 

[DM_Matt]

Blaster jogs out into the open closer to the guy who just arrives, stands up straight, and salutes "Sir! Yes Sir!"