Serano
Member
The roar of turbine engines grew from the distance in the sky above before coming to a crescendo over GenCorp headquarters. Broken glass vibrated on the floor as an aircraft made a close pass just above the building. Rashinko had insisted on such a low approach to maintain the secrecy of the operation.
Mr. Windermere stepped up to the broken window and took in the night time breeze as he peered out and watched the Corsair fly low over the tree tops on it’s approach to Hyberdine. The UH-22 Corsair was originally slated for military production before one of congresses budget cutting initiative shut the program down. Lockheed believed in the craft enough to shop it around and PMC’s quickly jumped at it as a fast and stealthy option to quickly insert teams into hot situations. The PMC’s bought the Corsairs in such high numbers, that the aircraft had become synonymous with private security outfits around the world.
“Sir, Rashinko is on the line from the command bunker in Seattle,” Cassandra spoke softly as her fingers danced rapidly on the digital pad in her arms. She had been managing the media nightmare from the explosion, pre-empting any such news stories that would come out. For the moment, she had the story buttoned up tight. But Mr. Windermere knew that the “accident” couldn’t be kept from the public for long. They would require a clever cover story to keep the military out.
Right now, there were far more pressing concerns. Mr. Windermere accessed his neural link and was virtually transported two thousand miles to the Seattle Command Room for Universal Security. They were the private contractors that was responsible for the security of all of GenCorp assets around the world.
Mr. Windermere’s holographic projection stood in the center of a large spherical room that was covered in screens showing dozens of images from around the world. The one of most import to him, was the one that lay directly in front of him that took up several of the large screens; an image from the nose cam of the hovercraft rapidly approaching the Hyberdine Facility.
A tall, brute of a man walked up to Mr. Windermere and looked up at him. This man required no introduction ;only one man reminded Windermere of a walking semi truck. “What have you to report, Rashinko?”
“Nothing yet sir. My advance team is already en route as I’m sure your already aware. They’ll assess the situation, and then I will get back to you.” Rashinko loathed Windermere, thinking the man was a pompous ass that the world would be better without. He had listened to the man’s ranting over and over of the “evils of humanity” and the need to “cure the aggression innate within him.”
As a veteran of the Middle Eastern Wars of the 2020’s, he knew that his “aggression” was all that kept him and his men alive. Although he was required by contract to keep clients informed during a crisis, he would of much preferred to cut the link, as well as other things. And what Windermere said next, only infuriated him more…
“Remember, I do not want any of those subjects harmed! They are the best hope for the future of humankind! So remind those simmed up barbarians of yours to only use non-lethal force.” Windermere said firmly.
“Yes… sir. We will comply as is stated in our contract.” Rashinko turned to hide his fury from the old man. He had heard rumors of some of the strange happenings at the Hyberdine Facility. Conspiracy theories flooded the interweb after all. Reports that Mr. Windermere was growing Vampires and Werewolves within the facility to “cure humanity”. Until tonight, he simply laughed off such rumors as fairy tales. But he had caught some disturbing images before the security feeds were cut from outside the facility. He needed more information about the situation on the ground before he could proceed.
Rashinko leaned over and pressed the glowing button on one of the consoles. “Alpha Team, this is Home Base. You are authorized for Recon Only.” He paused for a moment and turned to look back at Windermere before continuing, “You are authorized to use ONLY non-lethal force.”
“Roger that…” The pilot responded in exasperation. She looked back at the four man fire team crowed in the compartment with their rifles in hand.
One of the younger men mouthed off, “Just flipping perfect! Going into a unknown situation and don’t even have the damn ability to defend ourselves! This is going to be jolly good fun!”
“Can it runt! We’re going paid to get the job done, and that’s what were going to do!” An older man reached back and smacked on the back of the head of the rookie. He was the one chosen to lead the Recon.
From up front, the Pilot was surveying the landscape of the forest below. She could see the thermal images from her nose cam of multiple tangos below. Strictly speaking, there job was only recon. However, bagging a few of these freaks would net them a nice pay day when they got back to base. “Can’t find a good spot to land with all this foliage so you’re going to have to rope down boys!”
The side doors of the small craft slid open and the four men scooted forward and allowed their feet to hang out. They took out their ropes and flung them out of the aircraft as it came to a steady hover over a small opening in the cover. After taking their safety latches and fastening them tight, they all gave the ready sign. The grizzly man called out loud enough to overcome the sound of the engines, “Alright boys… Go! Go! Go!
Simultaneously, the four man fire team fast roped down in mere seconds before landing on the ground below in a diamond formation, each watching the other’s backs. Each man surveyed their surroundings with the only weapon they were allowed to carry; a standard-issue stun pistol.
Mr. Windermere stepped up to the broken window and took in the night time breeze as he peered out and watched the Corsair fly low over the tree tops on it’s approach to Hyberdine. The UH-22 Corsair was originally slated for military production before one of congresses budget cutting initiative shut the program down. Lockheed believed in the craft enough to shop it around and PMC’s quickly jumped at it as a fast and stealthy option to quickly insert teams into hot situations. The PMC’s bought the Corsairs in such high numbers, that the aircraft had become synonymous with private security outfits around the world.
“Sir, Rashinko is on the line from the command bunker in Seattle,” Cassandra spoke softly as her fingers danced rapidly on the digital pad in her arms. She had been managing the media nightmare from the explosion, pre-empting any such news stories that would come out. For the moment, she had the story buttoned up tight. But Mr. Windermere knew that the “accident” couldn’t be kept from the public for long. They would require a clever cover story to keep the military out.
Right now, there were far more pressing concerns. Mr. Windermere accessed his neural link and was virtually transported two thousand miles to the Seattle Command Room for Universal Security. They were the private contractors that was responsible for the security of all of GenCorp assets around the world.
Mr. Windermere’s holographic projection stood in the center of a large spherical room that was covered in screens showing dozens of images from around the world. The one of most import to him, was the one that lay directly in front of him that took up several of the large screens; an image from the nose cam of the hovercraft rapidly approaching the Hyberdine Facility.
A tall, brute of a man walked up to Mr. Windermere and looked up at him. This man required no introduction ;only one man reminded Windermere of a walking semi truck. “What have you to report, Rashinko?”
“Nothing yet sir. My advance team is already en route as I’m sure your already aware. They’ll assess the situation, and then I will get back to you.” Rashinko loathed Windermere, thinking the man was a pompous ass that the world would be better without. He had listened to the man’s ranting over and over of the “evils of humanity” and the need to “cure the aggression innate within him.”
As a veteran of the Middle Eastern Wars of the 2020’s, he knew that his “aggression” was all that kept him and his men alive. Although he was required by contract to keep clients informed during a crisis, he would of much preferred to cut the link, as well as other things. And what Windermere said next, only infuriated him more…
“Remember, I do not want any of those subjects harmed! They are the best hope for the future of humankind! So remind those simmed up barbarians of yours to only use non-lethal force.” Windermere said firmly.
“Yes… sir. We will comply as is stated in our contract.” Rashinko turned to hide his fury from the old man. He had heard rumors of some of the strange happenings at the Hyberdine Facility. Conspiracy theories flooded the interweb after all. Reports that Mr. Windermere was growing Vampires and Werewolves within the facility to “cure humanity”. Until tonight, he simply laughed off such rumors as fairy tales. But he had caught some disturbing images before the security feeds were cut from outside the facility. He needed more information about the situation on the ground before he could proceed.
Rashinko leaned over and pressed the glowing button on one of the consoles. “Alpha Team, this is Home Base. You are authorized for Recon Only.” He paused for a moment and turned to look back at Windermere before continuing, “You are authorized to use ONLY non-lethal force.”
“Roger that…” The pilot responded in exasperation. She looked back at the four man fire team crowed in the compartment with their rifles in hand.
One of the younger men mouthed off, “Just flipping perfect! Going into a unknown situation and don’t even have the damn ability to defend ourselves! This is going to be jolly good fun!”
“Can it runt! We’re going paid to get the job done, and that’s what were going to do!” An older man reached back and smacked on the back of the head of the rookie. He was the one chosen to lead the Recon.
From up front, the Pilot was surveying the landscape of the forest below. She could see the thermal images from her nose cam of multiple tangos below. Strictly speaking, there job was only recon. However, bagging a few of these freaks would net them a nice pay day when they got back to base. “Can’t find a good spot to land with all this foliage so you’re going to have to rope down boys!”
The side doors of the small craft slid open and the four men scooted forward and allowed their feet to hang out. They took out their ropes and flung them out of the aircraft as it came to a steady hover over a small opening in the cover. After taking their safety latches and fastening them tight, they all gave the ready sign. The grizzly man called out loud enough to overcome the sound of the engines, “Alright boys… Go! Go! Go!
Simultaneously, the four man fire team fast roped down in mere seconds before landing on the ground below in a diamond formation, each watching the other’s backs. Each man surveyed their surroundings with the only weapon they were allowed to carry; a standard-issue stun pistol.