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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4933627" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>God Shall Tread: Part 3 – The Week Link</strong></p><p></p><p>Walter Weeks, a ten-year member of the Duxbury community, opened the door to his modest home. He lived on the outskirts of Duxbury in a small cottage with an adjoining farmhouse.</p><p></p><p>More importantly, Weeks was a nondescript white male. When he opened the door, a black man was pointing a gun at him.</p><p></p><p>Weeks dropped his keys. "Take whatever you want! I won't call the police, I promise!"</p><p></p><p>Hammer frowned. "Why is it every time someone sees a black man with a gun that they think he's trying to rob them?'</p><p></p><p>"You're not robbing me?" asked Weeks hopefully.</p><p></p><p>"Actually, we are," said a voice behind him. Cold metal poked him in the back. "Sit down, Walter, we need to chat."</p><p></p><p>Walter sat down on a kitchen stool. Another man with sandy brown hair and eyes with a hint of blue in them sat down across from him. "Walter, we need to know some things." He casually waved a gun in Walter's direction. "You're going to help us right?"</p><p></p><p>"What do you want?" asked Walter.</p><p></p><p>"Answers," said Jim-Bean. "I need to know about you. What do you do at Hunt Electronics?"</p><p></p><p>"I'm…I'm a chemist."</p><p></p><p>"And what chemistry do you do at HE?"</p><p></p><p>"I…I work on chemical samples, looking for valuable substances like gold, silver and platinum."</p><p></p><p>"What kind of chemical samples?" snarled Hammer, edging closer. "We don't have a lot of time here…"</p><p></p><p>Weeks flinched. "Don't hurt me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's hard to focus…" He broke down into a body-wracking sobs. "P-please don't k-kill me…"</p><p></p><p>"Oh for crying out loud…" Jim-Bean turned towards Hammer. "Why don't you go search his bedroom?"</p><p></p><p>Hammer glared at him, but he did as Jim-Bean suggested.</p><p></p><p>"Easy, easy." Jim-Bean holstered his pistol and patted Weeks on the back. "You okay? You want something to drink?"</p><p></p><p>He went over the fridge, poured a glass of water, and filled it with some ice. Hammer and Jim-Bean had the opportunity to make themselves at home while they waited for Weeks to return.</p><p></p><p>Weeks sipped it, composing himself somewhat.</p><p></p><p>"So, where were we? Oh right. Chemical samples. Where are these chemical samples coming from?"</p><p></p><p>"The Away Team. They located three rich veins of gold and silver, and have successfully played out one of them. It's codenamed AUBURN. You're not really burglars, are you?"</p><p></p><p>"Focus," said Jim-Bean. "AUBURN huh? Where is this vein?"</p><p></p><p>Weeks sniffed. "Offsite."</p><p></p><p>"And where's Offsite?"</p><p></p><p>"When, you mean. When's Offsite."</p><p></p><p>"Walter, you've got to be a little more specific." Jim-Bean was careful not to make any threatening moves less Weeks collapse again. </p><p></p><p>"Millions of years ago," said Weeks. "We're not entirely sure exactly when. Offsite is still two to three years from completion, but the capture of Jonathan Emery at La Guardia airport collapsed the timeline. Now all manner of equipment and material are being shoveled through the gate at a breakneck pace from Duxbury; everything is coming back in greater quantities than ever before. More people, more equipment, more food, supplies and tools."</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean sighed. "Wait, wait, wait. So HE is going backwards in time to mine for gold?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, using the gate technology we got from the serpent people—"</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean's eyes widened. "Oh great. The serpent people huh?"</p><p></p><p>"Yes, they want their technology back. In fact, one of them tried to sneak into the facility. Ssruthaa, it calls itself, but its been pretending it was Reverend Lully for months. I've seen it twice with my own eyes. The serpent people can assume perfect human form. They've infiltrated human society. "</p><p></p><p>"How long as has this been going on?"</p><p></p><p>"The gate? Since sometime in the 1980s. A permanent base has been constructed at some point in the past, and millions of dollars and dozens of personnel have been sent back to populate it."</p><p></p><p>"Fanatics," muttered Jim-Bean. "And so you all are getting ready to do what, exactly? Move out of this time and into the past?"</p><p></p><p>Weeks nodded. "The aliens have already taken over everything. The only way you can tell is by looking at their shadow."</p><p></p><p>A cat meowed from the bedroom. "Don't let him hurt Fluffy!"</p><p></p><p>"Don't worry, he likes cats." Jim-Bean examined Weeks carefully, like a bug under a microscope. "I'll need your ID badge."</p><p></p><p>Weeks dug it out of his pocket. "Why are you looking at me like that?'</p><p></p><p>"Like what?"</p><p></p><p>"Like you're…observing me."</p><p></p><p>"Don't worry about it. We're going to leave you with some nice men who will take care of you. One more thing though, any hobbies or interests you'd like to share with me? Anything you tell your coworkers about?"</p><p></p><p>"I-I like to restore vintage cars," said Weeks. "I buy and restore 1950s and 1960s roadsters for resale, been doing it for awhile."</p><p></p><p>"That's great," said Jim-Bean. He patted Weeks on the shoulder. "You did good. You'll get through this fine."</p><p></p><p>Hammer came back into the room. He picked at his teeth with a toothpick.</p><p></p><p>"Where's Fluffy?" asked Weeks, panic-stricken.</p><p></p><p>"Didn't he tell you?" Hammer said ominously. "I like cats."</p><p></p><p>Weeks broke down into another blubbering fit.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4933627, member: 3285"] [b]God Shall Tread: Part 3 – The Week Link[/b] Walter Weeks, a ten-year member of the Duxbury community, opened the door to his modest home. He lived on the outskirts of Duxbury in a small cottage with an adjoining farmhouse. More importantly, Weeks was a nondescript white male. When he opened the door, a black man was pointing a gun at him. Weeks dropped his keys. "Take whatever you want! I won't call the police, I promise!" Hammer frowned. "Why is it every time someone sees a black man with a gun that they think he's trying to rob them?' "You're not robbing me?" asked Weeks hopefully. "Actually, we are," said a voice behind him. Cold metal poked him in the back. "Sit down, Walter, we need to chat." Walter sat down on a kitchen stool. Another man with sandy brown hair and eyes with a hint of blue in them sat down across from him. "Walter, we need to know some things." He casually waved a gun in Walter's direction. "You're going to help us right?" "What do you want?" asked Walter. "Answers," said Jim-Bean. "I need to know about you. What do you do at Hunt Electronics?" "I'm…I'm a chemist." "And what chemistry do you do at HE?" "I…I work on chemical samples, looking for valuable substances like gold, silver and platinum." "What kind of chemical samples?" snarled Hammer, edging closer. "We don't have a lot of time here…" Weeks flinched. "Don't hurt me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's hard to focus…" He broke down into a body-wracking sobs. "P-please don't k-kill me…" "Oh for crying out loud…" Jim-Bean turned towards Hammer. "Why don't you go search his bedroom?" Hammer glared at him, but he did as Jim-Bean suggested. "Easy, easy." Jim-Bean holstered his pistol and patted Weeks on the back. "You okay? You want something to drink?" He went over the fridge, poured a glass of water, and filled it with some ice. Hammer and Jim-Bean had the opportunity to make themselves at home while they waited for Weeks to return. Weeks sipped it, composing himself somewhat. "So, where were we? Oh right. Chemical samples. Where are these chemical samples coming from?" "The Away Team. They located three rich veins of gold and silver, and have successfully played out one of them. It's codenamed AUBURN. You're not really burglars, are you?" "Focus," said Jim-Bean. "AUBURN huh? Where is this vein?" Weeks sniffed. "Offsite." "And where's Offsite?" "When, you mean. When's Offsite." "Walter, you've got to be a little more specific." Jim-Bean was careful not to make any threatening moves less Weeks collapse again. "Millions of years ago," said Weeks. "We're not entirely sure exactly when. Offsite is still two to three years from completion, but the capture of Jonathan Emery at La Guardia airport collapsed the timeline. Now all manner of equipment and material are being shoveled through the gate at a breakneck pace from Duxbury; everything is coming back in greater quantities than ever before. More people, more equipment, more food, supplies and tools." Jim-Bean sighed. "Wait, wait, wait. So HE is going backwards in time to mine for gold?" "Yes, using the gate technology we got from the serpent people—" Jim-Bean's eyes widened. "Oh great. The serpent people huh?" "Yes, they want their technology back. In fact, one of them tried to sneak into the facility. Ssruthaa, it calls itself, but its been pretending it was Reverend Lully for months. I've seen it twice with my own eyes. The serpent people can assume perfect human form. They've infiltrated human society. " "How long as has this been going on?" "The gate? Since sometime in the 1980s. A permanent base has been constructed at some point in the past, and millions of dollars and dozens of personnel have been sent back to populate it." "Fanatics," muttered Jim-Bean. "And so you all are getting ready to do what, exactly? Move out of this time and into the past?" Weeks nodded. "The aliens have already taken over everything. The only way you can tell is by looking at their shadow." A cat meowed from the bedroom. "Don't let him hurt Fluffy!" "Don't worry, he likes cats." Jim-Bean examined Weeks carefully, like a bug under a microscope. "I'll need your ID badge." Weeks dug it out of his pocket. "Why are you looking at me like that?' "Like what?" "Like you're…observing me." "Don't worry about it. We're going to leave you with some nice men who will take care of you. One more thing though, any hobbies or interests you'd like to share with me? Anything you tell your coworkers about?" "I-I like to restore vintage cars," said Weeks. "I buy and restore 1950s and 1960s roadsters for resale, been doing it for awhile." "That's great," said Jim-Bean. He patted Weeks on the shoulder. "You did good. You'll get through this fine." Hammer came back into the room. He picked at his teeth with a toothpick. "Where's Fluffy?" asked Weeks, panic-stricken. "Didn't he tell you?" Hammer said ominously. "I like cats." Weeks broke down into another blubbering fit. [/QUOTE]
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